#He's adjusting to life back home

[fighting-these-demons]

K*s*hu Family New Years in the M/K Toxic College AU

[0rchidm4ntis]

Respite

[pkmoth]

having swap au thoughts. *slaps roof of claus* there's so much mental illness in this guy. im gonna blow up everyone in the room and then myself

[knickynoo]

At what point in time do you think the original timeline McFly family started being dysfunctional? I’m sure George and Lorraine were fully in love at first, and Lorraine even still in the 80s seems to look back fondly when recalling how they fell in love. But I do wonder when exactly it started to go downhill, when they started having kids? Just with age? Or maybe it was never really great to begin with before Marty got involved

This is a really interesting ask, and it's something that I've thought about a handful of times. The Twin Pines McFlys fascinate me.

As for my own headcanons about when the dysfunction started, I think it was always there. Dysfunction within families is complex, though, so it likely ebbed and flowed and morphed over the years. Some thoughts! (hehehe, analysis and theories incoming)

I 100% believe George and Lorraine were fully in love at first and are even still in love when we meet them in 1985. It's just that life has beaten them both down in various ways, and they've lost touch with each other and fallen into a pattern of being resigned to (and maybe even comfortable with) all the disconnect within their family. But there's no mistaking the fondness with which Lorraine begins her story of how she and George met and the way it shifts to such sadness within just a few seconds. Her question of, "It was the night of that terrible thunderstorm, remember, George?" is such a clear bid for connection with him. A hope that he'll smile and recall that night and join in on her story. That's what Lorraine wants! But George doesn't even acknowledge her (not on purpose, I'm sure; he's just so wrapped up in watching The Honeymooners), and you see Lorraine gradually deflate from there.

It's so sad because you can see the emotions shift so suddenly in her! That first gif still holds such affection as she recalls their first kiss. It's like she's a girl again, feeling that overwhelming sense of love and all the possibilities for their life together. But then it changes. She's brought back to reality and all the unhappiness, the disappointments, the realization that life isn't what she imagined for herself.

By the last gif, she's a woman who clearly feels trapped. Now stuck with this guy for the rest of her life. And what makes it so awful is that you can TELL Lorraine still loves him. She longs for that happiness they once had, but it takes two people putting in effort to make a marriage work. She can try to reach George all she wants, but if he can't be emotionally present, it isn't going to work.

Also, I'm sure that George loves Lorraine as well, but he's got a whole plethora of issues that just. Haven't been addressed. George has no self-worth. He's meek and lets people walk all over him and is so completely anxious about everything in life that he's mostly shut down. He's trapped too, with no way (that he can see) to change things. So he does what he can to survive, which consists of doing Biff's bidding and retreating to an inner world at the expense of shutting his family out.

I don't think things were always to this extreme, though. For a while I'm sure things were okay, maybe even good. They were young and in love, and while George was still George, I don't think life had defeated him yet. They got married, really established their little life together, and I can see them as both having hope. And even if there were moments that seemed shaky or hinted that things might be difficult down the road, it was easy to brush it aside. They were still finding their footing, and they were young and had their whole future together to make things better. In all honesty, Dave probably got to experience the "best" versions of his parents for the first several years of his life.

However, each year and every hardship (big and small) likely chipped away at the McFlys and brought about additional dysfunction. I don't know if Biff and George started working with each other right out of high school or if they came to work those jobs later on, but I'm sure that was a huge factor. It offered no escape from Biff for either George or Lorraine. Just a predictable cycle of George having to do whatever Biff told him, Biff invading their home whenever he pleased, and everyone having to watch George immediately tuck his tail between his legs.

As I said, I think things gradually kind of unraveled in their house. As the state of their family became more solidified, Lorraine likely began drinking more and withdrawing. I do think they still had their good days, though! Moments that brought them together and where they felt that happiness they once shared (I mean, they had three children together, and it's clear Dave, Linda, and Marty ARE loved and were raised well.) But the state of the McFly household is probably all Marty has known for the majority of his life. I can see situations arising where maybe Dave has told him, "They weren't always like this, you know."

Dysfunctional as they are, George and Lorraine really are trying. I think they can absolutely see the cracks and the flaws—perhaps even the potential damage being caused to their children—but they just have too much brokeness inside themselves to do better. So, they do what they can, which for George involves trying to protect his children's feelings by discouraging them from taking risks. He doesn't want them hurt or sad or disappointed, and his solution is to have them form shells around themselves. Better to save yourself from all the headaches life brings.

Lorraine does her best to protect and guide her kids by way of warning them away from the very things that brought her to where she is in life. We see this manifest in the form of criticism mostly when she's talking to Marty.

Lastly even with Lorraine seeming as downtrodden as she is, I can see her clinging to the possibility of change. Hoping and praying that eventually, George would say enough was enough and stand up for himself. He'd put his foot down, step up as a husband and father, and things would become what she always wanted. She was the one always telling herself, "Someday. Someday..." until the point we see her at during the dinner scene, where she knows that "someday" isn't going to ever happen. Things are just the way they are, and she has to deal with it.

This was a lot, but I have a lot of feelings about the McFly family and how they operated in their day to day life. Especially the implications of the McFly sibs (Marty in particular!) being raised in such an emotionally disjointed environment. Ugh, those gifs of Lorraine make me so sad. The whole thing is sad.

Thanks for the ask, though! I want to write another Twin Pines McFly fic now.

[pigeonclaw]

Finally got a hold of Star and started reading it and I can't say I'm surprised (given that this became very obvious in Wind), but I am disappointed with the direction they've taken Splashtail.

The reason he interested me in the start of ASC was because he seemed like someone totally disillusioned with the way Clans are running as a result of growing up during AVoS and TBC — AVoS being a time when RiverClan got conquered by rogues, and TBC being a time when everything kinda fell apart for everybody thanks to a StarClan cat running amok (and in both of these arcs Mistystar was terrible at working together with other Clans and actively added more problems to the pile).

Then he became a part of Curlfeather's plot to change things, agreed with her motivations but was disturbed by her still being willing to get power from StarClan, and decided to do things his way instead. If RiverClan has to stop relying on StarClan, then, in his mind, they needed to stop now. No more nine life ceremonies. Curlfeather became a threat in his eyes, so he got rid of her. And he had to scramble to keep things going his way afterward.

That was intriguing. It made Splashtail feel like someone with genuine beliefs and values and strong conviction, someone who believes he's doing the right thing even if he knows he has to get his paws dirty and cause a lot of harm to get it done.

Why they threw all that out just to make him another typical power-hungry dictator who wants to conquer all the Clans — something that's been done over and over and over already — I have no idea. He's even less believable than others of this type. RiverClan has no reason to follow him any more than they did Darktail. In fact, I find it hard to imagine that anyone who lived through Darktail's reign wouldn't start rioting as soon as they got a new leader who murders his warriors and threatens kits. It's bonkers.

That said, I'm enjoying the level of drama in the book so far. Splashtail fully a bad a boring character for me now, which is a shame, but there's more to enjoy and I'm here for it.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Good choice for an upstanding roegadyn husband for Frog to bring home to her parents to impress them: Rammbroes

Hilarious choice for bringing home an upstanding roegadyn husband to alarm and frighten her parents: Rasho the captain of the confederacy in the Ruby Sea.

[canyonmooncreations]

I can’t stop thinking about bratty princess reader x bodyguards 141

Something something your life is ruined now that your father has hired four broody body guards to be with you at all times. They usually rotate shifts, one staying with you at all times.

Sometimes events call for three of them or all of them. So when it’s time for a royal ball and three of them are needed, Simon opts to sit this one out in hopes to avoid the uncomfortable socialization.

After the ball, John stays at the palace with you and Kyle and Johnny join Simon back at their residence. Simon is absolutely baffled when the boys don’t shut up about how bratty you were and the major attitude adjustment you need.

Talking about how you refused to follow directions, even when they were for your safety. Refused to buckle up in the car and struggled so much that Johnny had to hold you down while Kyle buckled you up. Pouting the rest of the way home. Refused to eat dinner at the ball and insisted they stop at a drive through even though that wasn’t on your itinerary. Threatening to get them fired if they don’t take you.

The boys go on and on about your behavior and Simon just listens, dumbfounded.

“What’s that face for Riley? She even worse with you?” Johnny asks with a frustrated tone.

Simon shakes his head. “No attitude for me.”

The boys both start laughing. There’s no way that’s true. You’re truly a spoiled rotten brat, they think. There’s no way that he’s serious.

They never believe him until there’s an event that calls for all four of them. Simon’s with you at the palace while you get ready. The three boys pull up out front ready for you to join.

They watch as you walk nicely to the car and climb into the middle settling in next to Johnny. Simon climbs in after you. The boys are ready for the battle of asking you to buckle up.

“Buckle, princess” Simon grumbles.

“Yes, Mr. Riley.” The car goes silent. Johnny and Kyle look like their eyes are about to pop out of their head. John doesn’t miss the way your cheeks blushed red.

The car ride is silent. The boys are too shocked to say anything. Since when did you have manners and the ability to follow instructions? John drives with a grin on his face. Simon is unphased as you rest your head on his shoulder.

At the event, you are on your best behavior. You eat your food, move when instructed to move, and smile the whole time. The boys are genuinely so shocked at this new side of you. They watch in awe as Simon approaches you and the ever present feisty look is no where to be found.

“Ready to go?” Simon asks softly.

“Can we please stay a little longer?” You ask so kindly. Simon nods and finds his protective position.

“Did she just say please?” Johnny asked exasperated.

“She doesn’t even know what that word means!?!?” Kyle is just as shocked. John just chuckles and shakes his head.

They then watch as minutes pass and you gently tap Simon and tell him you are ready to leave.

When you get to the car, Johnny decides to put this to the test. Simon gets you in the car and closes the door to talk to the event staff before leaving.

“Buckle up sweetheart.” Johnny instructs.

You give him a polite nod and buckle up quickly. John lets out a chuckle and before Johnny can’t say anything before Simon is joining them in the car. “Bloody hell.” is all that is heard as the car falls silent.

On the way home, you lean over the Simon and ask if you could stop for ice cream. He replies with a simple “No, princess” and is met with no reaction from you. A slight nod and your head falls back against his shoulder.

Kyle is about to lose it. You threatening to get them fired if they didn’t take you through the drive through the other day. What the fuck has Simon done to you??

Something something and now it’s the end of the night. Simon has got you settled into bed and walks into the castle living room to review how tonight went with the security team.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Johnny and Kyle stare at him as if he’s accomplished the impossible.

“Told ya, no attitude with me.”

John chuckles and pats Simon on the back as he grins.

A/n: is this dumb?? It’s been eating my brain for a four hour car ride 😭😭

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

[peachylynnie]

you make him lose his cool

word count: 900-1k per lead synopsis: in which you provoke them, and they love it. (inspired by kiss of life's igloo) contains: fem!reader x lads men (separate, non!mc), established relationship, downbad men, NSFW CONTENT MDNI (i'm talking grinding, oral sex implications, etc), song lyrics, and cursing. a/n: UPDATED WITH CALEB AS OF 2/1/25 i feel hot whenever i listen to this song. i hope you do too while reading. enjoy! do not plagiarize or translate. lads men do NOT endorse plagiarism. reblogs & comments appreciated. lads masterlist | tagged: @vvintqz (ik this is technically the reader teasing xavier but u said to tag u when i write xavier so i hope u enjoy)

caleb

What you heard? (What you heard?) But it's never what you think, trust

it's impossible to surprise caleb.

he always knows what you're up to.

whether you're just waking up from a heavenly two-hour nap or going out to get your hands on the latest edition of your favorite blind box series, he's always there.

last time you tried to cook yourself a meal (ever since you started dating, he hasn't let you lift a finger), he came home early and snatched the spatula away from you, insisting that you sit down and look pretty for him while he makes his signature braised wings.

you're not sure how he does it. maybe he has a secret camera or a tracker installed (ha). though, you don't have any complaints. you think it's fucking hot how he's never away from you.

even so, you've been wanting to surprise him for a while now. blame it on your desire to fluster him as much as he flusters you. you're going to surprise him AT LEAST once in your lifetime.

which explains why you're in an apron right now, with absolutely nothing underneath.

to be honest, you were hoping to surprise him with homemade apple pie since he's always cooking for you. but again, you want to fluster him. thus the apron, a long piece of denim fabric wrapped tightly around your waist and hung dangerously low at your chest. you can't deny how delectable you appeared when you looked in the mirror, admiring your exposed arms, legs, back, and neck—anything that would drive the esteemed colonel insane. you felt jittery just thinking about the look he would have on his face when he walked in through the door of your shared home.

however, your joy is short-lived when your phone rings while you slice up some apples in the kitchen.

"what's with the apron, pipsqueak?"

you put the knife down with a sigh. "do you have a camera installed in here or what?"

caleb chuckles into the phone. "wouldn't you like to know?"

"i would like to know so i can turn the damn thing off and actually surprise you for once, dipshit," you retort playfully as you adjust your phone between your ear and shoulder, picking up the knife to continue chopping. you suppose you should still make the pie since you already got the ingredients out.

"aw," he mocks, his voice dripping with arousal. "did my little pipsqueak dress up just for me?"

"yes," you snap, rolling your eyes. "but this little pipsqueak is about to change since you ruined her surprise."

your threat does little to faze caleb, as evidenced by his endearing laughter.

"don't be upset, pips," he teases into the phone. before you can scoff at his audacity to tell you not to be upset, your ears catch the hurried footsteps in the background of the call. it doesn't take long for you to hope your boyfriend is on his way home—on his way to you. sure enough, his next words cause heat to pool between your bare legs.

"keep the apron on. i'll be home soon."

after he hangs up, you put your phone down with a giggle, eager for what's to unfold once he arrives. however, you still can't help but wonder if he actually has a camera installed because how the fuck does he always know what you're up to? you frown as you turn your head left and right. you don't see any red flashing lights in places that could provide him an optimal view. nope. nothing in the corners of the ceilings and nothing in the walls either. before you can convince yourself your boyfriend is somehow omniscient, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

his dog tag. seems like he forgot to put it on after putting on his uniform. you pocket it, hoping to give it to him when he gets home.

but your mind is truly one of a kind. as caleb likes to put it, resourceful during the most critical moments.

because when he's balls deep inside of you, coaxing your second orgasm out of you, you get the bright idea to fish your shaky fingers into the pocket of your bunched-up apron and put. it. on.

caleb's eyes widen upon seeing his dog tag on you. there it was, the important item he forgot this morning, resting between the delicious valley of your breasts, bouncing up and down while jingling an enticing melody.

"fuck—pipsqueak, you—" he thrusts harshly, pistoning into your sopping heat. you throw your head back at the sensation, allowing him an even better view of his chain, mingling with the beads of sweat on your collarbone. shit, he's so turned on right now. not only were your swollen, sweet lips adorning his name, but so was your pretty little neck. it filled the young colonel with pride. and enough vigor to bring you to your third release, as evidenced by the endless slamming of his hips and the clenching of your thighs.

"good girl," he helps you through your high before letting go of your waist, hoping to give you a break. "i'll go get a towel. stay here."

but when your pilot of a lover goes to leave, you wrap your legs around him and pull him to you, causing him to collide with you. caleb hisses at the contact, sensitive more than ever.

"don't push it, pipsqueak," he warns as he plants both of his arms on the kitchen counter, caging you in. "you need to rest."

"i don't think so, colonel," you prop yourself on your elbows, meeting his eyes boldly. "i don't think so at all."

caleb swears he feels his mechanical arm short-circuit because what you do next is just fucking tantalizing.

you pinch his dog tag and bring it to your mouth.

his breathing quickens substantially when your teeth take the shiny piece of metal as their prisoner. it's not long before his dog tag is trapped between your seductive canines and your thighs are tightened around his waist.

with a shameless smile, you jut your chin towards the man, signaling to him to make his move.

caleb growls, seizing the chain with both hands and bringing you to his face.

"i warned you, pips."

extra (in honor of his official installment)

as you munch on some apple pie in caleb's embrace on the couch, you can't help but ask.

"how did you know about the apron but not the dog tag?"

your boyfriend sniffs before answering, a little bit of pie still in his mouth.

"i couldn't check the cameras on the way home."

"oh that makes sense."

"…"

"wait, what?!"

sylus

Glass room, perfume, Kodak on that lilac (alright) Slipping on my short dress, know he like that (like that)

there's nothing like getting ready in sylus' bathroom. not because of the sheer size of it (it takes at least a day to explore his residence), but because of how good you look in the mirror right now. you can't help but smile as you step back to get a full look at yourself.

sylus went all out for tonight's auction.

he gifted you a tight-fitting ebony dress, its gorgeous silk straps accentuating your shoulders perfectly. he also gifted you a pair of evening gloves, its velvet fabric wrapping around your arms flawlessly. of course, the dress came with priceless jewels and heels. as you twirl in front of the mirror, the scarlet gems on your ears glimmer, and the cherry kitten heels on your feet click. oh, you look so good, you can kill.

but what seals the deal is the neck accessory he got you.

an intricate, black choker made out of lace. fucking lace. a scoff leaves your mouth when you notice the ruby medallion hanging at the center. his taste is as clear as day.

as you reach behind your neck to clip the choker, the man of the hour walks in. you meet his eyes through the mirror, your hands still at the back of your neck. "sylus."

"miss," he acknowledges in return, an unmistakable smirk appearing on his lips. his eyes trail down your figure. "you look stunning."

"thanks," you giggle as you hook the choker clasp. "you don't look bad yourself."

and you're absolutely right. although he has his usual dress shirt on, his outerwear is completely new. a gorgeous red blazer, adorned with inky brush strokes, sits proudly on his shoulders. moreover, his accessories are new (he's never worn any before). cuffed around his right hand is a sleek platinum watch, spotlighting his forearm deliciously. hanging from his left ear are silver chains, shining unashamedly. you can't help but bite your lips as you admire your lover in the mirror.

yeah, sylus went all out tonight.

catching the hazy look in your glittered eyes, he tilts his head before grinning, "like what you see, sweetie?"

you roll your eyes playfully before returning to the sink. "yes, actually. didn't know you were capable of wearing something other than black."

sylus chuckles as he leans against the wall, arms crossed. "i've worn colors other than black before."

"if you're talking about the two outfits that have the belt around the sleeve," you list nonchalantly as you pick up your lip gloss. "they don't count. they have black on them."

"i'm talking about the red cardigan, sweetie," he counters smoothly, eyeing the lip gloss in your hand.

"ah." you run the wand over your parted lips, enjoying the feeling of gloss on them. "touche," you say, bending over the sink to see if you missed a spot. you do, however, miss the way sylus' fingers tighten around his arms when your dress hikes up. smacking your lips together, you lift the wand to reapply. "but you barely even wear that. so that doesn't count either."

sylus hums, barely paying attention to what you just said. his eyes are transfixed on the wand. he's mesmerized by how it travels across your lips, slathering them with sticky, shimmery syrup, leaving him thirsty for a taste. not to mention the sounds leaving your lips whenever you press them together. sweet, squelching sounds that have him pressing against you in mere seconds, his hands gripping the edge of the sink.

at first, you were taken aback by his sudden proximity. but after feeling something prod at your back, you smile amusingly before placing the wand down. "i'm assuming," you swiftly turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, his eyes widening as you pull him closer. "there's been a change of plans." you slowly lick your lips, collecting some excess gloss. as it drips from the tip of your tongue, you ask with a tilt of your head, "how late are we going to be?"

that's it.

sylus crashes into you, his tongue desperately trying to lap up the excess gloss. his hands haphazardly roam all over your body before lifting you onto the sink, pinning you down as his lips smear your lip gloss everywhere. you moan, trying to match his fervor. the sinful mixing of breaths, saliva, and gloss floods your mind, causing you to wrap your legs around him and bring him closer to you. he welcomes the action, gasping and grinding into you.

by the time he pulls away for air, both of you are left panting like dogs, mouths and chins smothered in sheen.

your eyes never leave sylus' as you wipe your chin, a string of gloss and saliva hanging prettily from your gloved palm. with a groan, he dives into your neck and sinks his teeth into your collarbone. you throw your head back at the pain, whimpering when he soothes the spot with his tongue.

but when sylus traces a finger up your back, you freeze immediately.

why?

oh, because he's unzipping your dress.

"sorry, sweetie," he chuckles into your perfumed skin, savoring your surprised reaction when he drags the zipper all the way down. "we won't be late."

you look at him in confusion, barely processing the silk straps falling off your shoulders.

he leans in and whispers into your ear.

"we won't be going at all."

xavier

Heart attack, IV when I walk the street Vitamins that D, I'm good, I'm healthy

your starlight of a boyfriend collapses onto the bed, his legs hanging off the edge and his pants dangling pathetically from his ankles.

you giggle at the sight, wiping your lips clean of his release. as you rub a drop between your index finger and thumb, you notice the texture's a bit thick, almost like jelly.

"xavier," you call lovingly, rising from your knees and crawling on top of him. he barely responds; his eyes are screwed shut with beads of sweat trailing down his face, neck, chest, legs, everywhere. shit, what did you do to him? he can't get his chest to stop heaving, his mouth to stop watering, and his ears to stop ringing. he can't do anything. not with the way you looked so pretty on top of him, especially after making him release so intensely in your mouth.

"xavier," you repeat as you cradle his face, making his dazed eyes meet yours. "when was the last time you drank water?"

"water?" he pants. "i'm not sure. why do you ask?"

"well," you show him your fingers. he gulps, flushing a deeper shade of red. "this tells me you haven't been drinking enough water."

you get up to retrieve some water from the kitchen. xavier whines at the loss of contact. although he tries to stop you from leaving, you easily slip out of his weak embrace (he literally got his life sucked out of him; cut him some slack). after you reassure him with a kiss on his forehead, you open the door. "i'll be back soon."

he responds with a whimper before closing his eyes. before he knows it, he falls asleep.

not even five minutes have passed when you return to the room, a glass of water in your hand and a packet of vitamins in the other.

"xavier?" after placing the items down on the nightstand, you sit on the bed to admire the view. there he is, sleeping soundly with his shirt unbuttoned and pants unbuckled, his chest slowly rising up and down and his cute nose scrunching every so often. you almost feel bad when you wake him up. almost. as much as you like watching your boyfriend sleep, he needs his water and vitamins, considering how much energy he uses to fight wanderers.

"wake up, xavier," you coo. "you need your vitamins."

he stirs, peeking one eye open to look at you. cute, you think. "i'm too tired, angel." he whines before closing his eye again. "i'll have some later."

"come on," you chuckle. "at least drink some water. you're dehydrated."

hoping to keep him awake, you litter his face with kisses, repeatedly pecking his adorable features. his droopy eyelids, his button nose, his fluffy cheeks, his moist forehead, his small chin—not a single spot is missed.

his little laughs repay your efforts. before you can continue your bombardment of kisses, his arms wrap around your shoulders, successfully pinning you down to him. you're surprised by how quickly he replenished his strength.

"you're trapped," he points out cheekily. "now we can both sleep."

"xavier," it's your turn to whine. "you need to drink some water. besides," you try to get up but fail miserably due to his tight embrace. "you need to scoot up, and i need to lay down properly if we both want to sleep." still no signs of letting you go.

you sigh before poking at your boyfriend's waist, causing him to yelp.

he immediately lets go of you, rubbing the spot you just touched. taking the chance to escape, you stand up and reach for the glass and vitamins.

"meanie," he pouts. "i thought we agreed to not tickle each other for today."

"that's because you try to tickle me all the time," you retort playfully, opening the packet of vitamins. "besides, i only tickle you as a last resort. unlike you, i'm nice." you pop the vitamin in your mouth and bring the glass to your lips.

"as if." he yanks up his pants and crosses his arms. "last time i checked, being nice means letting your boyfriend sleep peacefully," he quips as he turns away from you, hoping his grumpy little act will coax more kisses from you.

instead, a hand comes into his view and grasps the sheets. furrowing his brows, he shifts back to ask what's wrong but is startled to find your face hovering above his. 

"angel, what—"

you press your lips into his, your free hand gripping his chin. on instinct, xavier opens his mouth, expecting your tongue to greet his. however, his eyes widen when he feels something pour in. oh. he greedily swallows the water and vitamin, his fingers weaving into your hair.

you pull away abruptly, a drop of water trickling down the corner of your lips. before he can say anything, you grab the glass of water and drink from it again, your hooded eyes never leaving his. xavier groans at the sight, his chest heaving for the third time today. and it's barely afternoon. oh, you're going to be the death of him.

he's sure of it when you return to his lips, water flowing into his mouth so sensually as his tongue reaches out for more. this time, you rest your entire body on top of him, allowing him to grab at your hips and thrust upward, desperately rubbing against your clothed core and seeking any type of friction that could relieve him of this growing desire you satiated with your mouth less than ten minutes ago. he never wants to drink water alone ever again.

“a-angel,” he moans when you pull away again. “why?” 

“you need more water, xavier.” you tease with a lick of your lips. “gotta make sure my boyfriend is hydrated, ya know?”

with that, you go to stand up and reach for the glass. however, the room spins as xavier pins you down, your positions switched and your wrists restrained above your head. your eyes widen, realizing you might've pushed your boyfriend too far. 

"angel," dark, cerulean eyes burn into you before glancing at the glass. “that's not enough water.”

rafayel

Yeah, white tippy-toe summer, I make him go dumb, duh He doubled down on that text, says that I'm the only one

(heads up, reader doesn't have to be mc but they know about rafayel's identity as the sea god and he calls you his beloved bride)

rafayel isn't sure how he got here.

you, on top of his bare chest, nibbling at his neck and dragging a finger down his clenched abdomen.

"c-cutie," he stammers. "someone might see."

he's not wrong. you're at the beach after all. but it's a private beach, one the artist rented for a date. so really, what's the harm in pinning your boyfriend down in the sand and showing him how much you appreciate him?

"you're the one who said this place was private, raf." you giggle before sinking your teeth into him, eliciting a moan. "besides, we both know why you suggested a date at the beach. don't tell me you forgot." you trail your finger along the waistband of his swim trunks. he jolts, his half-lidded eyes meeting your misty ones.

of course, he didn't forget. but considering the current, scandalous situation he's in right now, his memory is a bit hazy. as you twirl the drawstring with your index finger, rafayel bites his lip and tries to remember how exactly he got here.

last thing he remembers is you excitedly texting him about your package coming in.

a package, pft. no big deal, right?

wrong.

he almost dropped his phone when you sent him a picture of the package, more specifically, you wearing its contents.

a gorgeous two-piece swimsuit in the color of his hair. fuck, lavender has never looked so good on you. the way the tight, skimpy fabric hugged all the right places, making you seem so so malleable. the way you posed in front of the mirror, your face bridling with innocent excitement but your body positioned so so temptingly. shit, he hopes this exhibition ends soon because his slacks feel suffocating all of a sudden.

it wasn't long before he spammed you with a hurricane of texts consisting of flattering emojis and praises about how you're the only one he'll ever love (dramatic but heartwarming) and how he would love to take you on a date at the beach as soon as this stupid exhibition is over so you can swim in your new set to your heart's content (totally not because he wants to see the real thing).

yeah, now he remembers. he got himself into this situation. you even tried to stop him.

"uh," he recalls you hesitating through the call. "aren't you tired from your exhibit?"

"nope," he immediately answers, causing you to raise a brow. "not at all, cutie. i'm in tip-top shape. what better place for us to test your swimsuit than the beach?"

"us?" you repeat amusingly. "since when was testing a swimsuit a two-person thing?"

shit, he got caught.

"raf," you giggle at his silence. "if you want to see me wear this in person, you can always just ask, you know?"

"w-what?! no!" he acts as if you insulted his artwork. "i just thought it'd be a good opportunity for us to go on a date and to test the quality of your swimsuit! what if one day you go into the water and it gets untied or something? what if i'm not there to protect you from prying eyes? you can never be careful enough with swimsuits, especially shipped ones!"

"uh-huh," you drawl skeptically. "i'm sure a triple-knotted bikini will SOMEHOW get untied by the waves."

"come on, cutie," rafayel whines. "i know a perfect, private place! i'll even bring the food, the blankets, everything! please?" (he purposely emphasized "private" because no way in the seven seas is he going to let anyone look at you in a bikini)

you sigh before observing yourself in the mirror once more. the bikini DID look good, and you DID buy it for future swimming dates with rafayel. might as well, right? besides, you can't say no to him, especially when he begs so cutely like that.

"fine, raf," he remembers you giving in with an endearing sigh. "send me the address of the beach once you're done. i'll stop by your place to pack your swimming trunks."

and here you are, resting on top of him and drawing figure eights with your fingertips IN his swimming trunks.

he would laugh at the irony if it weren't for your provocative actions. you were the one who brought him his swimming trunks, and now, you were the one making him wish you didn't bring them so he could see how pretty your fingers looked right next to his—

yeah, he definitely got himself into this situation. he has no one to blame but himself for his predicament. it's his fault he's currently twitching and throbbing underneath you as you breathe into his neck and tease doodles into his thighs.

"oh fuck, cutie—" rafayel jerks his head back when you suck on his adam's apple. your mouth felt so good. you felt so good. 

after pulling back with a 'pop,' you trace the red mark with your free hand, admiring your artwork on your artist of a lover. unfortunately for him (fortunately, really), this causes him to squirm uncontrollably. the simultaneous stimulation from your right hand on his thigh and your left hand on his neck was just too much for the lemurian. he swears he's this close to bursting all over the sand like a messy, wet bubble. 

suddenly, you stop, withdrawing both of your hands from his body. 

"c-cutie?" he lifts his neck to look at you but finds himself confused as to why you're sitting up. though, his confusion is quelled when you reach behind your neck. 

oh. 

your hands come into view, each one tugging on the strings of your top.

oh fuck. 

he doesn't even see your top fall. no. he's completely frozen (and hard) when you lay back down on him, smushing your now-exposed chest into his abdomen, allowing him a view that brings roses to his cheeks. (he can feel your nipples rubbing against him).

"oh, god of the tides," you purr with a smirk as you press your ear into his chest, relishing in his rapid heartbeats. "you promised you would test this swimsuit with me." before he can deny your reminder of his mistake from the earlier call, you grab his hand and bring it to rest against your swimsuit bottoms, causing his breath to hitch. "won't you make good on your promise?" 

rafayel swallows shakily before nodding. 

"anything for my beloved bride." 

zayne

Mm, yeah, I make him lose his cool Yeah, I make him go mmmmmm ah! ah!

doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, reduced to this.

a red-faced mess, losing his cool in a rocking chair, thanks to his lover shaving his chin on his lap.

his lover, who just so happens to be wearing a nightgown, a silk, sapphire nightgown with lace ruffles and ribbons that drove the man insane.

to make matters worse (better), your bare thighs were on either side of his hips, caressing and stroking him whenever you would move to shave his chin.

don't even get him started on the fact that you're sitting right on top of his crotch. he prays to any merciful soul out there that you don't feel him growing down there-

he inhales sharply when you reach behind him for a towel, your chest mere millimeters from his face.

"you okay, zayne?" you ask with faux concern.

"yes," he clenches his jaw. it's taking him everything to not dive in and lick, suck, bite—anything to relieve him of this torment. "please hurry."

"hurry?" you pout with a tilt of your head. "but why?" you lift his chin to wipe some excess shaving cream. "do you not want me to shave you?"

"no, darling. it's just—" his hands fly to your waist for stability when you place the towel back in its place. shit, every time you lift yourself onto your knees to reach behind him, the chair moves more and more, resulting in a pattern where when he leans back, you press into him, and when you lean back, he presses into you. it's not helping that this pattern deliciously resembles a certain rhythm in bed.

"it's just?" you repeat to him, stroking his jaw to inspect for stray hairs.

he doesn't say anything. how can he? he can't just spill about how badly he wants to kiss your sweet lips, squeeze at your delectable chest, rip your enticing nightgown apart, and take everything you have to offer. no, he can't. not when you approached him so innocently with a cute smile on your face after he came home, asking if you could shave him. (he almost fell to his knees when he saw what you were wearing). not when you look so beautiful gazing at him from above, handling his skin with addictive yet gentle touches, and glowing underneath the moonlight from the open windows. shaking his head, he grips your waist with renewed resolve.

"it's nothing," he closes his eyes. "please continue." he would rather drink alcohol than misinterpret your innocent intentions.

except there was nothing innocent about your intentions at all. you admit, it's fun to tease zayne like this. the way his lips would chase after your fingers whenever you traced them, the way his eyes would falter whenever you leaned in, the way his breath would hitch whenever you moved your hips, oh it all made you feel wanted. and who could want more than a gorgeous, capable doctor who looks at you as if he's going to die if he can't have you?

you. you want more. you WANT him to have you, take you, right here on this rocking chair. you thought teasing him with a few shifts of your hips and some purposeful closings of distances between his face and yours would relay the message. but no. he's either completely oblivious or has the will of a steel that's been fortified ten times over. because even though he's made it incredibly clear that he wants what you want (his blushing cheeks and shortage of breaths are hard to miss), all he's done is sit there and take your teasing.

you frown, retracting your hand. what's it going to take for doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, to give in?

a lightbulb flashes in your head.

"hang on, i missed a spot," you lie, lifting yourself up once more to reach for the shaving cream next to you. "i'll make this quick."

and with that, you slam your hips down.

he groans out loud, eyebrows furrowing and fingers tightening around your hips. he still hasn't opened his eyes though.

"are you sure you're okay, zayne?" you ask innocently, twisting left and right. "i'm worried about you."

"w-why," he starts hoarsely, his fingers gripping for dear life, trying to stop you from moving so damn much. "why would you be worried?"

"oh, i don't know," you smear shaving cream all over his jaw before trailing your fingers down to his neck. "you just seem so…" you slowly trace a heart on his collarbone, eliciting a pretty gasp from him. "out of it."

zayne's eyes jerk open, glaring at you with unprecedented focus. you smile cheekily before pressing yourself deeper into him, eager to bear witness to what he'll do and say since he finally opened his eyes.

though, your smile doesn't last long. in an instant, his hands pin yours behind your back, causing your back to arch and your lips to part.

"i'm starting to think," he secures your wrists in his right hand and brings his left to his face, wiping away the mess you made. "you're doing this on purpose."

you grin. finally. he finally got the message. unable to hide your excitement, you lean in next to his ear and whisper, "what are you going to do about it, doc-tor?"

he inhales sharply, yanking your wrists.

"perhaps," he growls. "it's time you get a taste of your own medicine. prescribed by yours truly."

[noonecareslol]

𒀯𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

Anaxiphilia: love for or attraction to unsuitable mates; an act of falling in love with the wrong person

Hwang In-Ho x Fem! Reader

wc! 7k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you move away from your childhood best friend (and first love), the last place you expected to see him was stuck with you as a “player”.

TW: Violence (duh its squid game), cursing, smut 18+ pnv, unsafe sex, probably pregnant lol

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Classical music filled your ears as your eyes adjusted to the bright lights. It played throughout the room as you woke slowly and attempted to make sense of your surroundings. But, as you looked at the number placed on your tracksuit you remembered where you were.

Or at least why you were there.

You were never uncomfortable growing up. You were actually quite wealthy. Your father owned a very successful company, your mother invested money intuitively, and life seemed to improve daily. That was until you were 17 and news broke that your father’s company was a front. A money laundering business that cleaned his filthy money from years and years of fraud. When they died, they left you a monumental amount of debt. And when a suspiciously attractive guy handed you a little brown card, you couldn’t help but call the number on the back.

You knew the games were too good to be true. And you realized you were right after the first one. It took you 30 minutes to wash the blood off your face and out of your hair.

Now you were standing next to a girl with the number “222” written on her tracksuit, watching as an older lady and her son begged the guards to let them go. You fiddled with your hands, flinching at the rawness after scrubbing them relentlessly. Your attention was grabbed when another person stepped through the crowd.

“Clause three of the consent form!” Your eyes trained on him as he spoke angrily, “The games may be terminated upon a majority vote.”

Your heart stopped. You could go home and be safe. But you would still be drowning in debt. You bit your lip, remembering about the share of money you would receive. Would you have enough to cover it?

As if the guards could read your mind, a large piggy bank lowered from the ceiling, “The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.” Every eye watched as the piggy bank began to fill, “If you quit the games now, the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

Another man shoves past the crowd, “And how much is that?”

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won.”

Exasperated sighs and annoyed words broke out amongst the crowd. But your eyes stayed trained on the man who first spoke, “456” written on his chest.

The pink guard spoke loudly, “The rule is that a hundred million won will be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”

The crowd stayed silent, “The total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won.”

The crowd erupted again, full of enthusiastic words and motivated cheers. The girl next to you placed her hands over her stomach, almost cradling it closer to her body.

If you went home now, you wouldn’t even have enough to cover a third of your debt. But if you stay and continue the games, you could die.

The doors opened and two guards wheeled out a metal podium with two buttons, a red X and a blue O. “Now, let’s begin the vote. If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button. The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers.”

“Player 456.”

The same man from before stepped forward without hesitation. As he walked to the podium his stride was filled with wrath and as he slammed his palm against the X, his eye contact didn’t break with the guard.

The voting continued, each person stepping forward to decide whether to live or die. Each time either button was pressed you silently celebrated, still not sure if you should stay or go.

“Player number two.”

Your face fell as your eyes centered on the podium. And with each slow step you took, you became more sure of your decision. And as you reached the podium, you had made up your mind entirely.

A high beep rang through the room as your face reflected the blue button. You decided to continue. Flinching at the sound of defeated sighs from behind, you took the patch embroidered with an O and joined the other voters.

“Player number one.”

You hadn’t cared to look at the man when he was standing next to you earlier. But now that he was about to break a tie, your eyes were locked on him. You didn’t catch his face but you studied his figure. He had a tall frame and dark brown hair that seemed to be styled perfectly. He walked with a thick sense of confidence and you hadn’t failed to notice how his tracksuit clung to his biceps.

You watched intensely as he lifted his hand and hovered between the two buttons. The room held suspension and your eyes were locked on his hand. He hesitated for a few more moments before pressing his hand down. Blue light illuminated his face and the surrounding crowd cheered as he walked from the podium.

He had selected to stay. To play another game where you, or him, could die. You voted for that too. So why aren’t you happy about winning?

Because he’s turned around now and you’ve seen his face. And you would recognize that face anywhere.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I don't understand, you’re moving?” He grasped the sides of your face, afraid to let go.

You looked at the boy in front of you who’ve you known your whole life. You went to private schools together, fancy parties together, and you shared your first time together. And now you’re leaving.

You placed your hands over his, “I don’t understand either In-ho. I want to stay, I don’t want to leave you.” Tears fell down your rosy cheeks as In-ho placed his forehead gently against yours.

You ignored your mother’s frantic yells for you to come and pack your things. You didn’t want to leave him. You loved him, and you knew if you left now you wouldn’t just be leaving your house. You’d be leaving your life behind. Your father would be arrested and your mother would have to work while taking care of you herself. You would move from Gangnam to Daegu. And you would have to start a new life. You just didn’t understand why In-ho couldn’t be a part of it.

That was the last time you saw him.

Well, until now.

You kept your distance, watching him talk to player 456. You recognize him from before as the man who’s already played.

You observed intensely, not bothering with your food. You watched how he exchanged words with 456. How his hair moved slightly as he used his hands to talk. You didn’t understand why he was here. The last you heard about him, he was married and his wife was expecting.

What could’ve gone so wrong for him to be here?

The girl next to you shuffled in her seat, setting her empty dosirak-tong on the ground. You knew she was pregnant just from how she walked uncomfortably with her hands supporting her back.

“Here, take mine. I don’t like dosirak.” It was a lie, dosirak is one of your favorite meals. But she was eating for two, and you didn’t have an appetite.

She looked up at you before gently taking the metal box from your hands, “Thank you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and you smiled in return.

Your eyes searched for In-ho again to find him walking towards a fight you hadn't noticed had broken out. His frame was large and towered over the boys as he approached them, “Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime There are elders present, mind your manners. Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too?” In-ho’s jaw clenched as he tilted his head at the boy, “Dude, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids.”

You knew where this was heading, In-ho always knew how to fight. You smirked as he grabbed the boy, turning him around and twisting his arm behind him.

Forcing him to the ground with a thud as he whined, “Wait! I’m sorry! Please, let me go!”

He let go of his arm and stood up straight, adjusting his tracksuit. As he looked around the room while walking back toward player 456, his eyes suddenly met with yours. And he froze as he scanned your face. He was so caught up in Gi-huns plan that he had failed to realize you had entered the game. The girl he fell in love with. Who he shared his first kiss with, who he has thought about every day for 20 years since you were 17.

Your heart ached as old feelings rushed over you, watching as his eyes softened slightly before player 390 dragged him over.

You couldn’t sleep that night. You were too busy trying to figure out why he was here. Plus, you caught word of the next game being Dalgona. Which worried you because you had always sucked at cutting out the tiny shape, always giving in and eating the cookie whole.

You spent the night staring tiredly at the piggy bank, the soft yellow light casting across your face. What you didn't know is that 50 feet away, In-ho watched you. His mind also trying to understand why you were here. He stared at you, his eyes tracing the curve of your jaw, remembering when he would trail kisses on your pretty little face.

When he met your eyes earlier, he froze. Not because he didn't expect to see you, which he didn't, he froze because his heart did. He marveled at your beauty, and you took his breath away. Just like the first time he saw you all those years ago.

And now as he lays in his bed, his pillow propped up on the opposite end so he can see you, he can't help but address the elephant in the room. You know his name. You know his identity. You could ruin everything, his plan that he had focused solely on for the past three years.

As the lights turned on and classical music rang out from the speakers, his eyes stayed on you and only you.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Welcome to your second game. This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of six in the next ten minutes. Let me repeat."

Sand kicked behind you as you walked into the room. The speakers repeated the instructions as you whispered to the girl next to you, "Is Dalgona played in teams?" She shook her head and her hand caressed her belly. You've grown somewhat protective over the girl, whose name you learned is Kim Jun-hee.

You take her hand as you look to find a team and your eyes try to pick out In-ho from the crowd. You think you spot the back of his head and start to pull Jun-hee towards him when she makes a be-line to a group. Your protests go ignored as she reaches them. Your eyes still search for In-ho as she inquires about joining their group.

"Of course, you can join." The voice snaps you from your search as you meet familiar piercing brown eyes with your own. Your breath hitches in your throat as he doesn't break eye contact.

"Time for team selection is up." The PA system breaks your stare, but In-ho holds his. You look around the room, scanning over the tall blue walls and the rainbows painted on the floor, "The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a minigame at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the minigames: Number one, the Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gonggi. Number four, Kendama. Number five, Spinning Top. Number six, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the minigames and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide on players for each minigame."

Your team divides the games between you. You get stuck with Kendama, a game that is played by tossing a ball into the air and attempting to catch it on a wooden stick point. You're fairly confident in yourself. You and In-ho grew up playing games like these.

You sit with your group as each team competes. You sat at the end next to Jun-Hee, checking on her every once and a while. You flinched every time a gunshot rang out, anxiety bubbling with every elimination.

In-ho could not stop looking at you. It was as if you had a magnetic pull, and he couldn't look away. You were a piece of art, crafted with the hands of God himself. And he was jealous of God's hands, wishing it had been his very own that created such beauty. Every time you looked his way, he looked elsewhere.

"Final two teams, please get ready." You help Jun-hee stand up, 390 stepping in place next to her. Standing on the other side of 388 as you all line up at the start. You lower your gaze as In-ho steps in line next to you. He's always been intimidating, especially with his large frame towering over yours.

390 chuckles, "It's weird to be the only ones who don't get an audience, isn't it?" His attempt to lighten the mood works a little, a small smile forming on your lips.

"I think it will help us focus more!" You rub 388's shoulder in comfort while he repeats the motions of throwing and catching the Gonggi.

The guard finishes locking In-ho's and 456's shackles before you feel an arm snake around yours. In-ho's bicep compresses your own as your face heats up. You glance up daringly meeting In-hos sharp gaze. You should say something. Anything. Ask him why he's here, or where his wife is. But before you can speak, 456 starts the chant and steps forward.

"Hana dul! Hana dul! Hana dul!" You chant as you approach the first game. Jun-hee slams the red ddakji down, successfully flipping the blue one on the first try.

As you chant and walk to the next game, 388 breaks the pace and steps forward quickly. Without hesitation In-ho's hand moves from your arm to your waist, effortlessly steadying you "Hey! Keep the pace!"

388 steps back into pace as we reach the next game, "Back when I used to pitch, I never threw very fast, but the ball always went where I wanted." 390 steps one foot back before aiming and throwing the stone precisely, hitting the target on the first try!

You all cheer before continuing forward, quickly approaching three minutes. As you sit on the ground you feel In-ho steadying you again, allowing you to lean slightly against him to give 388 more room to play his game.

"Okay, just take your time. You got this." I reassure 388 as he grabs the gonggi. With a quick hand, he tosses one in the air before collecting them one at a time. Then two at a time, Then three and one. Then all. He flips them on the back of his hand before catching them effortlessly.

Your cheers were quick as you stood up and rushed towards the fourth game. The guard hands you the Kendama and you can feel In-ho's gaze on you intensely. You held the Kendama out in front of you, tossing the ball up, quickly moving your hand to catch it. You close your eyes as you feel the ball land on the spike.

"Yes! You did it Y/N!" In-ho grabs your shoulders and shakes you, you shake his back as he beams a smile at you. And for a second, you forget about the timer and you're both 17 again, in love.

He wraps his arm around your waist again as you move to his game. He takes the spinning top in his hand and begins to wrap the rope around it, confidence radiating from him. We have this in the bag! -oh.

The rope fell off.

You feel his body tighten as stress began to build. He wraps the rope around once more before tossing it, praying that the top spins. It falls to its side and In-ho curses under his breath. You remember him using his left hand when growing up to play this game. You wondered why he was using his right, but you didn't ask him. You could tell he was getting annoyed at himself.

"It's okay! Just try again!" You let go of In-ho's arm to give him more room. He flings the spinning top with too much power and it flings backwards.

In-ho freezes, too embarrassed to move. The man next to him, 456, grabs his shoulder firmly, "It's okay, we'll get it. All right, backwards. Ready, set."

In-ho holds my waist tightly as we walk backwards in step, "It'd be boring to win everything fast." The group nods in agreement at 390's words, " 'Cause if you're ever gonna grow, you need to fail first, right?"

In-ho picks up the spinning top and we trek back to the line. He wraps the rope around successfully, "Okay now take it slow, wait- no don't rush it!"

In-ho interrupted 388's instructions by quickly, and messily, throwing the top. It falls to the side and you feel In-ho throw his head back and laugh. You quickly remove your hand from his waist, knowing what's about to happen.

"You piece of fucking shit! You ruin everything! You're worthless!" In-ho drops the piece of rope in his hand as he hits his head against his hands. "You're so pathetic!"

The group stands shocked as he hits himself angrily, stomping in the dried blood below him. You bend down and pick up the rope, glancing at the clock.

50 seconds.

"Hey!" You slam the rope against his chest and pull his face to look at you, "No one's blaming any of this on you! Now, take a deep breath, okay?"

In-ho nodded slowly, the feeling of your touch burning on his face as he placed his right hand over his chest, something he would do when you were younger. As the group shuffles to pick up the top, you place one of your hands over his and slow his breathing, "You can do this In-ho. Use your left hand like you did when we were kids. And if I die because of this I will kill you myself."

In-ho gave a small smile at your sarcasm as he wraps the rope around the axel, then the top. He places it in his left hand and looks at you quickly before throwing the top.

It spins.

You erupt in cheers as In-ho succeeds! He gives a quick hug to you, that you wished had lasted longer, and your group moves to 456's turn. In-ho's gaze darkened as he focused on 456, and you failed to notice it, still flustered from the quick hug.

"One! Two! Three! Four!" You all counted as 456 bounced the jegi on his foot, watching him and the clock as it counts down. For a split moment it seemed that he wouldn't be able to get the last hit in, but suddenly In-ho swoops in and reaches with his foot. "Five!"

You all cheer as you practically run to the end, crossing right as the timer hit zero. The heavy shackles get removed and you are immediately engulfed in a bear hug from In-ho. His arms wrap around the small of your back as he pulls you closer to his frame, if possible. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you stay frozen. Not from the near- death- experience you just had, but because you realized you had forgotten what his hugs had felt like. You threw your arms around him in return, deepening the hug you have longed for every day for 20 years.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You sat closely next to In-ho as the group chatted and complemented each others moves from the game. You were looking forward to catching up with In-ho, but you were too engrossed in 388's retelling of 390's stone toss, "And, sir, you were incredible at Flying Stone!" He proudly stood up and pretended to throw a stone, "You just lined it up and... Boom! First try!"

You giggled as 390 proudly shaked his head, and In-ho turned to look at you. God, that laugh. He had forgotten what it sounded like, and he frowned when you stopped, "I was thinking, what if we go around and say what our real names are? I'll go first, my name is Kang Dae-ho. Dae as in 'huge' and ho as in 'tiger'!"

390 laughed as Dae-ho gave himself tiger fangs with his fingers, "Now that's a cool name. My name is Park Jung-bae. It means 'righteous' and 'double.' So, I should be living twice as righteously."

"My name is Kim Jun-hee. I don't think I know what it stands for." Jun-hee smiles as she pushes a stray hair from her face.

"Jun means 'talented' and hee means 'star'. You are a talented star Jun-hee!" You ruffle her hair as she beams at you, "My name is Y/N. L/N, Y/N."

You can feel In-ho's stare as he watches your lips move, "My name is Young-il. You know, like 'yeong il.' 'Zero one' in Korean." You whipped your head towards him. Was there a reason he was hiding his name? Did he not trust anyone? He gave you a reassuring look, you'd just ask him later.

"My full name is Seong Gi-Hun." You looked away from In-ho's gaze as you watched 456 introduce himself.

"Seong Gi-hun. Like our un-'Seong' hero?" Everyone laughed but you. You were still pondering about In-ho. There were so many unanswered questions running through your mind. In-ho must have noticed your distant look, because he gave your hand a squeeze. A promise that he'll explain everything.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After another failed vote to go home (you had voted to leave this time), Gi-hun warned about the possibility of an ambush. It plagued your mind with worry as you laid on your mattress. Another night of no sleep adding to the eyebags growing under your pretty E/C eyes.

Gi-hun stood from his watch as In-ho took over, and headed to bed. Now was your chance to fully reconnect with In-ho, "Can I sit here?"

In-ho turned to you, "Cant sleep?" He asked as he scooted over a tad, making room for you. He didn't make a whole lot of room though, which you didn't mind.

Your thighs touched as you sat next to him, "No, never could when my mind is running like this." You dusted off your pants as you placed your legs out in front of you, fingers avoiding the blood that plagued your bottoms.

"You shouldn't be anxious about the game tomorrow." He watched your face intently, trying to read you. You were always so easy to read.

You stifle a small laugh, "Oh i'm not anxious, 'Young-il'. " You tilted your head towards him as you dragged out his "name", smirking as he nodded defeatedly.

"Ohhh, okay." He leaned in close, making your heart flutter, "I just don't want anyone to know my name yet. In a game like this there's a lot of... betrayal."

Your spine shivered as his words tickled your ear, "Oh, I guess I didn't think about that..." You turned to look at him but failed to realize how close he was.

Your lips were now inches apart, barely. You could feel his breath fan across your lips and his eyes remained focused on yours, "It can be our little secret? Hmm?" You found yourself nodding before you could even process what he said.

You didn't move, instead, you tested the waters. You leaned in closer, tilting your head slightly, "Last I heard you were married?"

He shook his head no, not caring to explain as he quickly licked his lips, his eyes now focusing on your own. Your breath caught as your heart beat at an unearthly rate, he was so close. If either of you moved your head even a centimeter, his lips would be on yours.

But you weren't able to find out. The small metal door slammed as Jun-hee, Hyun-ju, and Ae-sim walked in, and you pulled back quickly. "I should try and sleep."

In-ho nodded as you walked away, his eyes trailed the curve of your ass and he adjusted his pants slightly before going back to his watch.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Players, welcome to the third game. We will begin momentarily. The game you will be playing today is Mingle." The beady-eyed horses caught your attention first. The black, soulless, painted eyes boring into your own as you followed behind In-ho. "I will now explain the rules of the game. All players will step onto the platform in the center of the arena. Once the game begins, the platform will spin. Shortly after, a number will be called out. You must then form a group that matches this number, enter one of the surrounding rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds, or be eliminated."

You stopped in front of the red platform, In-ho stopped next to you, "The real crucial thing for us to do is to stay calm and don't panic. Trust each other. And we'll all get out of here in once piece." He looked down at you, a need to protect you suddenly clear, "Deal?"

You looked up at him, "Deal." And he took your hand as you both stepped on the platform.

"With that, let the game begin!" The woman over the PA system was replaced with a nursery song, "Round And Round". The platform jolted before starting its spin, and you grasp onto In-ho for support as he steadies you.

"Ten."

The lights were replaced with flashing red as In-ho pulled you close. Gi-hun grabbed a group of 3 people as you searched for an open door, "Room 44!" You pointed to the light green door before dragging In-ho and Dae-ho with you. Hyun- ju grabbed a stray woman while running through the green door, barely making it.

In-ho placed his hands on the sides of your arms firmly, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You breathed out, trying to catch your breath.

He took one hand and cupped your face, "Just stick with me. You'll be okay." You nod as the door unlocks and he grabs your hand, leading you back to the platform.

You spin for another few agonizing seconds with your hand still firmly grasped in In-ho's. "Five."

Your face fell, there were six of you. Who was going to leave? In-ho quickly pushes you into Jung-bae's grasp, "Watch her, i'll go! Hurry!" In-ho takes one more glance towards you as he runs through the crowd.

Jung-bae drags you with the others as you call for In-ho, "Young- il! Young-il!" The door locks behind you and you break from Jung-bae's hold.

"Im sure hes okay. He's smart Y/N." You press your face to the door, peering out of the small window, searching for his tall frame. You know he's smart, but you were so scared of losing him again you couldn't even register the other players getting shot in front of your door.

It unlocks and you push it open, rushing out and onto the platform. You whip your head around as you scanned for In-ho. When you lock eyes with his brown ones you make a beeline towards him, pushing past other players as you jump into his arms, "What ever happened to, "Stick with me"?"

His hand wrapped protectively behind your neck, cradling you in his arms, "I know, im sorry. But i'm okay." He pulled your head away to look at him, a small smile resting on his face.

The platform began to spin as you and In-ho stood next to Jun-hee, "Attention, players. The final round will now begin." The God forsaken nursery rhyme plays again, and this time, your eyes were glued to In-ho.

"What do you think the number will be?" Jun-hee asked curiously while clinging onto Dae-ho.

"It will be two." In-ho looked towards her.

"Wait, why?"

He squeezes your hand, "We're at 126 people, and there are 50 rooms. Even if there's two in every room, then there's still only enough for 100 of us. If you don't find one fast, you're done for."

The platform comes to a halt. "Two." The lights flash again and In-ho pulls you on instinct, running to a yellow door.

In-ho was going to keep you safe, at any cost.

You look back towards the group for a split second when your body meets the ground, you look up in slow motion as the man who pushed you runs to the door. You took a staggered breath before grabbing onto his ankle, slamming him to the ground and buying you enough time to run in behind In-ho and close the door.

Relief washed over you only momentarily as your eyes met with a third person in the room. In-ho steps in front of you, "Out."

"But, we were here first. Why don't you put her out and I stay?" In-ho tilts his head at his last remark before wrapping his biceps around the man's head.

The door behind you shook as the other man tries to push it open, you are quick to press your body weight against it to hold it close, "In-ho, what do we do?" Your voice was frantic as the countdown continued.

In-ho's arms tighten around the mans neck as he pulls and pushes at his grasp, but In-hos eyes never faltered. Not once. They stayed piercing yours, full of determination.

"Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two..." The cracking sound of the mans neck made you flinch, his lifeless body hitting the floor with a thud.

I did say in-ho would keep you safe. At any cost.

"One."

The door locked behind you as you pressed your back against it, In-ho's stare stuck on you as he stepped over the man's body and towards you. He pushed your body against the door, his hand finding the flesh of your waist as his other hand pulled your neck into a desperate kiss. You became putty under his touch as he dug his fingers into your skin, he craved your touch as much as you did. And it was taking every muscle in his body not to take you and fuck you right now.

Your hands traveled from his chest and up to his neck, pulling him closer. A small whine escaped your pretty lips as he slid his hand up and under your shirt, the same hands he just used to kill for you.

For you.

You felt the door unlock with a click behind you. And In-ho pulled away reluctantly as your head fell back against the door, "I need you Y/N." He brushed his thumb over your red and swollen lips before taking your hand, and leading you out of the door.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Attention, all players. Lights-out will be in approximately 30 minutes. With the remaining half hour, please disperse, and prepare to return to your beds for the night."

You sat next to Jung-bae who was excitedly talking about the next vote with Dae-ho as you watched In-ho move your mattress next to his. You hadn't dared to tell a soul about what happened in the yellow room, the kiss or the dead guy.

And you weren't going to tell anyone.

You should be concerned, right? Concerned over how easy it was for him to snap a guys neck without breaking eye contact? He was emotionless, cold, really attractive. You had witnessed many fights between him and other men while growing up, especially when it came to fighting over you.

But he never once killed for you. Until now, at least. Were you wrong to think it was really hot?

"Once the lights go out, the ones who wanna stay are gonna come for us." Gi-huns voice broke you from your thoughts, "Killing us would mean they win the next vote. It would also increase the prize money."

In-ho sat down next to you, his hand immediately finding your back, "We have to attack first then, it's our only chance. Those guys assume we're just waiting it out till the next vote. When the lights go down, we should hit them first since they won't expect it." He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, watching is you nod in agreement.

Gi-hun shook his head and leaned in closer to the group, "No, we can't. We'd be playing right into their hands if we did."

"Who is 'they'?" You tilted your head as you asked, failing to notice In-ho's gaze darken.

"The ones who built this whole place. The ones who created the games and who watch us play." The group listens closely, "If we're gonna try and fight anyone, we should be going after them instead."

"Sure, but where are they?"

Gi-hun looks up, "They're up there. At the top of the staircases. They keep everything here running from up in their central control room." He looks back at the group, "There's a man in a black mask who's the head of the operation. If we can get to him, we finally can end this."

In-ho sighs in disagreement, "It's too risky. Even if we manage to get a few guns they'll outnumber us when we try to get out." You feel his hand slide from your back and wrap around your waist.

"What are you suggesting? That we fight the other group through the whole entire night, and hope that we all make it? Is that it, Young-il? Do you really think that's a good plan?" Gi-huns voice is a little raised and you feel In-ho's grip on you tighten.

"Do we... stand a chance?"

"If we can manage an ambush, yes. Those bastards up there, they'll never expect our side to attack. They'll be focused on other things. This is it." You nodded with Dae-ho, ready to fight, "This is our last chance to put an end to these games and make sure they never happen again."

"Lights out in ten seconds."

"Once the lights are off, we have to get under our beds as quietly as we can. We can't afford to get caught by the other side. And we know they'll be out for blood." Gi-hun whispers as he slides under his bed.

You and In-ho follow suit, laying on your stomachs as you peer out from under your bed. You feel the contrast between your shaky breaths and his own steady breathing, and you can't comprehend how he could be so calm.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

"I have a plan." In-ho's voice was barely above a whisper, and a shiver runs down your spine at the sound of a woman yelling.

You look at him, "But, what about Gi-hun's plan?"

You didn't miss the small smirk that played on his lips, "Just stay by my side." Without a word In-ho swiftly moves from out of his bed, pulling you with him.

"Wait! What are you-" His hand came to your mouth as you both hugged the wall while discreetly moving towards the small metal door.

In-ho removed his hand to place a short knock. The small window opened, a guard peering through the flap. Without a single question, the door opened, and In-ho was quick to push you through.

You watched as the guard swiftly opened the bathroom door allowing you and In-ho to enter. You turned to the door as it shut behind you before looking at In-ho, "How did that guard just let you through? I don't understand, we have to go back In-ho."

"Or we can stay. We're safe here- you're safe here." He stood on the opposite wall in front of you, watching as you rested your hand on the doorknob.

He knew you were thinking about going back. But he also knew you weren't going to. He had you wrapped around his finger, just like all those years ago. And you knew it too.

You dropped your hand from the doorknob, biting your lip as you feel him slowly stalk towards you. Need courses through your veins as his hand comes from behind and wraps around your neck, his other hand pulls your waist against him. His lips find your neck and you've melted instantly.

His bulge presses harshly against your ass as he sucks and bites your neck with unhuman desire. This wasn't like when you were younger, when you were flustered and shy. No. You were hungry with want and your eyes were filled with lust.

He whips you around, lips on your own now as he moves you backwards to the counter. Your knees go weak and he lifts you with ease, as if you weighed nothing, and places you on the counter. Your fingers dug into his back, desperate for more. Hungry for him.

In-ho bites your lip roughly, and you give him what he wants, opening your lips wider and letting his tongue fuck your mouth. You were intoxicated, In-ho was the man you thought of each night as you fucked yourself, screaming his name into oblivion. And now here he was, hiking your shirt over your head.

"Y/N." Your name slipped from In-ho's mouth swiftly as he lifts your shirt over your head before his lips find your exposed skin. A small whine escapes your lips as his hot mouth gives your cold skin goosebumps.

It was like that small little noise ignited something animalistic within him, a grunt fell off his tongue as he bit your skin. He loved the way you squirmed as he dipped his tongue into your collarbone, his eyes looking up at you.

Sweat slicked your forehead as your head throws back, your bra falling from your tits, landing on the floor. How did he take it off? His hand didnt even-

oh.

Oh.

You looked at the bra, the back was still clasped.But the straps, the straps were ripped. He had ripped your bra off of you with hunger. But, you couldn't focus on the bra anymore as a moan escaped your mouth, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as In-ho rolls your nipple under his tongue.

He trailed sloppy kisses up to your mouth before stepping back, observing you. He pulls his shirt of with ease, "Take off your pants." It was demanding, and you obeyed. Your fingers trembled as you slipped off your bottoms and panties.

In-ho presses his tongue against his cheek, cocking his head as he takes you in piece by piece. You were sprawled out on the counter, your back resting against the mirror and your chest heaved, "What. What are you looking at In-ho."

"I'm thinking about all the bruises your pretty body is going to have after I fuck you."

He sinks to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he delves his tongue into your folds. You gasp, your legs involuntarily locking around his head. His tongue laps as he looks up at you. His nose perfectly brushes your clit, and he knows it as you rock your hips, "Oh, f-fuck. In-ho please."

He smirks against you as you sputter his name. He feels himself growing harder each time you whimper under his mouth. He drinks you up, your taste slicking on his face as you his tongue finds your clit.

One of your hands remove from the edge of the counter and find its way to his hair, "In-ho please," You pull his hair up to make him look at you, "If you stop now, I-I will kill you."

A small chuckle vibrates through your core as his lips latch your clit, rolling it under his tongue. Your legs pull him closer, if possible, and you feel your climax building. You arch your hips, rolling against his mouth as the need to cum grows louder. In-ho roughly laps on your swollen clit, desperate for your release.

And suddenly the earth stops spinning as you dissolve into pleasure, letting yourself unravel under him. Your body jerks as shockwaves move throughout your body, and you let his name roll of your tongue.

"Scoot down." You do as you're told and wiggle your ass until its slightly off the counter. In-ho watches as you still attempt to steady your breathing, smirking as he dips the waist of his pants down.

Your eyes widen as he places one of his hands on the side of your body, letting him tower over you. Your eyes trailed to his other hand that was busy lining his dick up with your core, but his eyes are on you. Waiting to watch your reaction as you take his cock.

He sinks into you, your breath catching and your eyes closing as he doesn't ease you into it, stretching you out. A grunt escapes his mouth at your reaction, you were so beautiful like this.

In-ho leans back and takes a hold of both of your ankles, holding them above you as he sets the pace. Your knuckles turn white as you grip the counter with one hand and cover your mouth with the other.

In-ho quickens the pace with each thrust, pounding into you like a toy. Animalistic grunts escape his mouth, "Y/N, you're so good for me. I've missed this so -fuck- so much."

You whine at his words, desperate attempts to buck your hips failed. He had you pinned down under you, controlling everything. He can feel the way you grip him, lustful tension building in the air, "Atta girl."

Oh fuck, he feels so good. He fits perfectly in you, just like all those years ago. The passion was still there, and god, he made you know it. You're drunk with desire, clenching around him as the pace picks up. His thrusts are sharp, deep, and you can tell he's close.

Your hands find his face, forcing him to look at you. His eyes met yours as his cock hit every. right. spot. His eyes softened, a contrast to his pornoraphic thrusts. In the middle of everything, all the death around you, you rekindled a love you never thought you would experience again.

Your eyes stay locked as the grip on your ankles tightened, In-ho's head dropping slightly as he came, time slowing as waves of electricity engulfed him. Warmth flooded over your body as he pulsed inside of you, gently laying your legs back down before leaning forward.

He pulled you close to him, his hands cupping your face and his thumb gently lifting your chin, "I love you Y/N." A smile displayed on his lips as he kissed you softly.

You bit back a sob, "In-ho... I never stopped loving you. You've been my person, even when you weren't mine."

He kissed you again, this time with promise. A promise of making it out of the games, a promise of love, a promise of hope.

In-ho never thought much of a future. He always saw himself living for the games. He expected to die as the front man, he didn't have anything to lose. But now he does. He has a future now, and it's you. He is not living for the games anymore. He is living for you.

Would you still love him when you find out the truth?

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

A/N: Hey pookies!! Tysm for all the love recently it's definitely motivated for me to come out of retirement. Pls lmk who I should write for next! I'm in a squid game mood so maybe Gi-hun?

@tsarinaaaz @flowersbloom8787 @vixtyhu @dottoremybbg @fnl9zer @cdej6 @galadoesart @watasinekoru @icantcryicantstopcrying @seasaltrasp @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @gurjxxpp11

[wild-jackalope]

NSFW links

Including :: Satoru, Choso, Kento, Toji, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Toge, Yuta.

warning :: everything sex.

note :: can you guess who my favs are? All characters are of age.

Satoru Gojo

how he moans — He’s so damn cocky and breathy. Gasping whenever you brush over his sensitive spots, deep chuckling at every cute face you make. You couldn’t make him shut up even if you wanted to, he’s always going to be in your ear telling your what a good girl you are and letting you hear just how amazing your pussy feels.

he just won’t latch off your tit — when you’re riding him he has perfect access to your beautiful tits, how could you expect him not to suck them? He knows you love it when he can feel your cunt flutter around his cock.

he can barely control himself when you first have sex — he’s been waiting so long to have you like this, sitting naked on top of him. He might usually be smooth but now all he can think about is making sure he gives you a good fuck.

vanilla — sometimes vanilla sex is the best kind. He just loves the sight of you riding him with he idly play with your tits. So what if he wants it all the time?

videos — Satoru knows how flushed your get when he sends you videos of him jerking off and moaning your name. He’s away all the time, so he knows it’s the best reminder that he’s coming back to fuck you soon.

joining the mile high club — you’ve fucked almost everywhere. Almost. A plane now happens to fall upon that list.

Choso Kamo

how he moans — chanting please and curses. He’s a sensitive man, so they come out easily when you fuck him. Even when he’s the one on top, driving his cock deep into your soaking chasm, he still moans sweetly. He just loves you so, so much and you make him feel so fucking good. He can’t deny you the sound of his pleasure even if he wanted to.

treating him well — he goes so red in the face when you kiss him while palming his dick. Each time your lips reach his neck he shivers, so happy to have someone treat him so well it’s almost euphoric. Of course he’s stuttering “W-What about you?” Just make out with him until he sees stars.

foreplay — feeling your naked body against his, having his hands slide through your hair and lips move fluidly against yours makes him yearn for you in ways he didn’t know was possible, sure he was already hard the moment you touched him but now he’s aching and twitching for you, leaking pre cum.

he’s so big, but you take him — Choso is always slow, making sure you adjust to the feeling of him being inside you. He kisses your cheek and neck, mumbling praises. ‘You’re too big, Cho.’ You grunt, holding onto his arm. He shakes his head, disagreeing. ‘You’re the perfect size for me, my love, you take me in so perfectly. So well.’

Kento Nanami

how he moans — so lazy and deep. He just can’t stop praising you, loves to tell you how perfect you are between aimless grunts and breathy exhales. He’s a composed man, always aware of how good he’s making you feel so he’s never too lost in his own pleasure to moan so loudly, he’s quiet (unless you’re sucking him till he cums down your throat, then you’ll hear the best of his grunts).

he knows exactly how to get you crying for him — He might never openly admit it, but Kento is obsessed with your meek little moans and he knows playing with your pussy is the best way to squeeze them out of you.

perfect house wife — domestic life makes his heart truely happy, so when he comes home to you wearing nothing but an apron it makes his dick happy too. He just has to touch you and tell you you’re the perfect wife.

playing with you in front of a mirror — he enjoys seeing you quiver and your face scrunch up when he toys with your pussy, in front of a mirror means he can see it all perfectly.

Toji Fushiguro

how he moans — you have to be doing one hell of a good job to get this man to shut his mouth and moan for you. He’s a dirty talker, not a moany little sub. Still, his grunts are quiet and gruff. He’s most loudest when he slides into your gummy pussy for the first time and when he cums inside you.

favourite position — he just loves to pull you onto his cock. After a while, your legs begin to shake so he has to hold you upright and that’s how he knows you’re about to cum. Missionary comes in close second, just because he loves to feel you claw his back.

hate sex — you’re both pissed at each other, so what better way to rid yourself of your anger than to fuck it out? Straddle him, don’t give him the chance to top you, slap and ride him till he cums. Then maybe he’ll learn to respect you more.

when he tells you to ride his face, he means ride it — his lazy ass still wants you to do all the work, rolling your hips against his stunted tongue. He’s grinning, loving the moans you work out of yourself.

the only time he begged for it — you had been sending him some pretty saucy picture whilst he was away. It had been weeks since the two of you fucked and he wanted to see more of you’re perfect body. ‘I want to hear you beg’ you sent, then received a video from him.

Sukuna

how he moans — deep, deep moaning. The type of moan that hides a growl in the back of his throat as it rumbles against your chest. There are times he can get a little breathy, but he’s confident and never loses his cool. He mostly talks you through sex, so you’ll mainly hear grunts between his filthy dirty talk. Sometimes you swear you can hear a bit of Yuji coming through when he moans.

learn to shut your mouth while he fucks you — he calls you brat for a reason, because you love to talk back. When his hand wraps around your throat, you only have room to gasp for breath which is how he prefers you.

gently touching you after sex — post-sex is often when Sukuna is the sweetest. He admires your body, gently grazing his sharp nails over your skin and watching you retract at the tickling touch.

messy sex — there have been times where Sukuna burns for you, needing you in every possible way. He needs your scent, your skin, your hair, your body, your voice. He craves you, leading to a rough and messy quickie that’ll leave you utterly raw.

he has no patience — sure, he might like the idea of watching your fuck yourself on his cock, but in practice you’re much too slow. He needs to fuck you at his own pace, not let you work yourself off agonisingly slow.

keep quiet, brat — you need to learn to control your voice, but no matter how many times he tells you off you just keep hollering his name. So he decides to smack his hand over your mouth to cover up the noise.

even when you’re on top, you’re still a bottom — you were so excited when Sukuna agreed to let you top him. Although you were suspicious that he grunted a ‘yes’ so quickly, you didn’t read too much into it. Only when he had your hands bound behind your back, fucking up into your cervix did you understand he would never let you dominate him.

Yuji Itadori

how he moans — loud and messy. Once Yuji feels your cunt sucking him in the rest of the world disappears. All he can babble out are swears and compliments on how hot you are, how good you make him feel, how much he loves you. If the sex is softer (which is hardly the case), he can maintain composure a little better. He still grunts and swears, but at least the neighbours won’t hear.

favourite position — the way your ass collides with his hips and the defined arch of your back is like a work of fucking art. The sound of your moans muffling into his pillow is something he thinks about all the time. He just hates that he can’t see your perfect face, so please look back at him while he fucks you.

He waited all day to fuck you — you had been riling him up since the early morning; grazing your hand over his thigh and crotch, texting him lewd things, whispering sweet things in his ear. The moment you two got home he cornered you from behind, pressing lustful kisses to your neck and stripping you of your clothes until you both were naked and he had laid you over him.

cant get enough of your butt — he just loves your curves, flat or fat he admires you either way. Planting sweet kisses and mumbling how you were ‘built to make him hard’, whatever that means. He just runs his mouth when it comes to your body.

loves seeing you have fun riding him — the way you playfully hold his hand while you grind into his hips, or the way you break into a laugh when he grabs for your boobs, he just loves to see you have fun, especially on his dick.

no condom? — he’s always forgetting to buy condoms, you guys fuck like bunnies, how is he supposed to remember how many you two use up? You refuse to have a pregnancy scare, so you’ll just fuck him over layers of clothes.

Megumi Fushiguro

how he moans — Megumi starts off pretty balanced, but when things start to get intense he fluctuates between high and whiny to low and gravely (he’s especially embarrassed about moaning so high, so he tries to hold it back). He also doesn’t particularly enjoy being vocal, but a few physical and verbal prompts from you will get him in your ear.

you asked so nicely — he tells you he’s close and that he’s gonna cum, and how could he resist the urge to fill you up when you ask him so kindly to cum inside you? He’s surprised, but when you beg again he knows he can’t deny your sweet request.

nervous to touch you — he isn’t used to much physical affection, but he wants to touch you so badly. He loves to hear your gasps when his hands start to wander, so despite not being exactly sure what to do he’s eager to learn and memories the feeling of your body.

so kind to your cunt — the way he drags his tongue across your wet lips, making his saliva mix with your slick and creating a sloshy noise each time he repeats the motion. His narrow eyes gaze up at you, watching you throw your head back before closing and letting his sense of taste take over.

fucking you slowly — he’s never ruthless, especially when you want him to be. He moves his hips at his own pace, playing with your clit and enjoying the way you squirm for more.

Toge Inumaki

how he moans — He makes up for the lack of talking by grunting deliciously each time you make him feel good. The louder he is, the better you’re doing and the closer he is to cumming. Even when the focus is on you he’s still making noise, grunting each time you grind against his tongue, or tighten around his fingers.

sucking you sweetly — it’s pretty clear Toge has an oral fixation by the way he sucks your neck, your pussy and especially your tits. He especially loves your boobs, so they get special treatment.

pause your game — ‘I’m busy’ you say, that is until he’s parted your legs, hot breath patting your clothes sex. You try to keep playing, just to tease him further but his mouth feels so good that you can’t help moan and watch him eat you out. You’ll finish the level another day.

payback — you come over to spend time with him, only to be met with the back of his gaming chair. You’ll just have to give him the same treatment he gave you when you were too busy for him.

helping hand — leaning against his naked chest, going weak against him as he rubs your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers inside your pussy.

Yuta Okkotsu

how he moans — loud, weak moans. He’s so sensitive, he can’t help but whine in your ear as you fuck him. It’s not like he’s embarrassed either, Yuta loves to lose himself in your pussy and let you know how good it feels. You tell him he deserves to feel this good and it makes him sob pathetically.

shivering underneath your grip — he’s just too sensitive, you might go slowly for him just so he can relax but your skin is so soft, you’re gripping him so firmly and your breath hits his cheek. It’s all too overwhelming that he can’t help but tremble.

next best thing — you weren’t planning to end up fucking Yuta, but the two of you had gotten so heated whilst kissing. Neither of you had brought any condoms, so you decided to give him the next best thing and grind your pussy onto his cock whilst he moaned your name.

you fit perfectly on top of him — nothing else can compare to your lips moving like honey against his whilst his cock sits safe and warm in your pussy.

[fushitoru]

so i know who i'm looking at! a sukuna ryomen oneshot

pairing ⸺ ghostface!sukuna x reader

summary ⸺ on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives.

warnings ⸺ smut, fluff (at the end), pre established consent but dub con just in case, cream pie, lots of degradation and praise, “good girl,” oral sex (m!recieving), recording and pictures, suggested infidelity (but it’s not actually infidelity), exhibitionism, reader gives him a show in exchange for her life, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, mdni, pls help me find artist for credit :(

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

you stretch, yawning as you adjust the blanket you had on you to cover you and give you warmth on the chilly october evening. gazing forlornly at the balcony window outside, you see kids and college students alike in their halloween costumes visiting homes for treats and bars for booze, respectively. tonight was a night you were supposed to get dicked down by your boyfriend in the bathroom of a frat, but you’re stuck instead with a last minute call to babysit yuji because he’s sick. 

you love the kid too much, like he’s your own baby. which is why you couldn’t refuse playing babysitter, even if that meant forgoing pictures for your instagram with the slutty angel costume you had bought a month who in anticipation of halloweekend. instead, you’re tucked in and cozy, watching scream for the nth time just to fangirl over how hot ghostface is. 

so you’re in your tank top and boy shorts, relaxing and chilling (that is, as much as you can while locked in on your movie). and, as if on cue, the moment the phone rings in the movie, the itadori household’s phone number gets a call.

you jump at the noise, a bit on edge because of the movie and definitely regretting the idea of setting the living room pitch back in spirit of mood lighting. groaning (albeit a bit freaked out), you get up to answer the call, as yuji babysitting protocol required that you answer any call in case it may be an emergency.  

picking up—but a bit on edge—you drone, “itadori household, how can i help you?”

there’s heavy breathing on the other end and you hate your scaredy cat tendencies because your heart is picking up at the distorted and low pants. “h—hello?”

“hey.” the voice is low, just like the breathing, and for a moment, you hate your brain for immediately recalling the nsfw audios you watch to masturbate because the guy on the phone sounds exactly like them. it’s a little freaky that you’re getting such a weird fuckin call at this time, but regardless you persist, in case this was relevant. you kind of need this job.

feigning cheerfulness, you ask, "what can i get ya?" as your fingers absently toy with the thin strap of your tank top. the cool air from the nearby vent sends a shiver across your skin, but the silence on the other end of the line is more unnerving. you're met with nothing but heavy breathing, and each exhale seems to scrape against your eardrums.

shifting uncomfortably, you feel the sweat beading at the nape of your neck as impatience builds. your fingers tighten around the receiver. "are you gonna talk or should i hang up?" you finally snap, agitation bleeding into your voice.

but before you can slam the phone down, he speaks.

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

a groan escapes you, the kind that rises from deep in your chest, exasperation overtaking any lingering nervousness. "look, buddy, this is soooo corny. like, i was literally just watching scream, so you’re not doing shit. if you wanna prank call a girl, try somewhere else because—"

“you got a boyfriend?”

“i do,” you quip back quickly, a hand on your hip as you stand straighter, eyes flicking to the doorway of the kitchen. shadows dance in the dim light, your heartbeat subtly picking up pace. you move to hang up the phone, more irritated than frightened now. “so you better not try anything funny and waste more of your time, you fu—”

“but he’s not sleeping upstairs with the kid?”

the world freezes. you pause, the phone hovering mid-air. what did he just say? your pulse quickens, each thud louder than the last as dread claws at your chest. "what?"

a laugh, deep and guttural, slithers through the receiver. it’s the kind of laugh that makes your stomach drop and your legs feel weak. his voice is smooth, velvety even, and it curls around your ear like smoke. despite the creeping fear, something primal makes your thighs clench involuntarily. “okay, now that i’ve finally got your attention, let’s try this again. what’s your name, baby?”

that word—baby—the way he drags it out, rich and slow, makes your heart stutter, even as fear wraps tighter around your ribs. you grip the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cool surface. “why do you wanna know?”

“so i know who i’m looking at.”

the room spins. your breath falters, shallow, barely there. it’s like the walls are closing in, and your throat feels thick with fear. you lick your dry lips, throat tightening painfully. “wha—what do you mean?”

a soft coo hums through the phone, mockingly sweet. “no need to be afraid, pretty baby. you don’t want the kid upstairs to die, do you?”

your blood turns to ice. the words don’t make sense at first, but when they do, it feels like the floor’s been yanked out from beneath you. your mind races, every nerve in your body screaming. “what the fuck? is this some kind of prank call? this isn’t funny.”

but the man just continues, as if he didn’t just say something so horrifying that your stomach churns. his voice remains steady, eerily calm. “the kid, how old is he? five, six? he’s dozin’ off in those stupid iron man pj’s of his.” you swear you can hear his smile through the phone, a wicked curl of satisfaction. “and i love those shorts on you. parading your ass around like the slut you are. how’d your boyfriend leave you alone tonight?”

the walls feel like they’re closing in. a cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and suddenly the room feels too small. your eyes dart toward the darkened stairs. every creak of the house becomes louder, sharper. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you swallow, mouth dry as cotton. it feels like someone is watching—someone who shouldn’t be there.

for a second, you digest the information he’d bestowed upon you—information about yourself. not-so-subtly freaking out, you get out a “please, please don’t do this.” 

 “then gimme a show. follow what i say.”

“o—okay. what do you want me to do?” you’re trembling, your realize, in your fear. or was it arousal?

“come closer to the window,” the voice purrs. you tentatively walk up to the balcony window facing the itadori garden, awaiting instructions as you stand shivering with the chill of the air.

“now,” the voice instructs, “take your top off. gimme a show, alright? better see that fucking back arch when you’re talking it off like filthy stripper slut you are.”

you whimper in humiliation but follow his instructions anyways, slowly becoming more and more of a slave to your arousal, caused by his assured and suave voice. when you take your tank top off, back arched just like he asked, the man groans and you hear distant squelches on the other side of the line.

“good girl. now when you take that bra off, pull up your cups, but don’t take it off, leave it bunched. those tits better bounce for me.” pulling up the cups of your bra, your tits recoil and bounce and the squelching gets even louder as you feel eyes rove over your tits. “fuck, i love those tits. get on your knees and bounce em for me like you’re riding cock.” 

you clench so hard as you move to do as he says. part of you is soooo aroused to be forced around like this, so you’re easily giving him the show that he wants, getting on your knees and moving your chest so that they start rhythmically bouncing, synced up with the squelches you hear in the other side of the phone.

“stick your tongue out. drool on your tits.” you moan, your tongue lolling out as a glob of spit starts trailing down your body.

 “fuck!” he exclaims, aroused by the sight. “you like being bossed around this baby? like my little bitch?”

“no!” you sob, tears springing out at the utter humiliation you were experiencing. “please let me go, please don’t do anything to yuji!” 

the voice chuckles. “really? i think you’re lying, baby. i know that pussy is wet while you’re giving me a show. matter of fact, why don’t you show me? make sure i get a really good look at that cunt, okay?”

slipping your shorts off, you turn so that your backside is facing the lawn and uncover your traitorous pussy—glistening wet—to him. taking a few steps back, you breathe heavily—like the person on the other side of the phone—as you press your pussy against the glass, the heat and humidity originating from your inner walls fogging the area on the glass. you hear a snap! on the other side, indicated that he had taken a photo. eyes widening in panic, you ask, “what are you doing? please, i’m doing whatever you wa—”

“i can’t let everyone think you’re some innocent virgin, can i? parading your ass and pussy for me, when anyone in the neighborhood can see? matter of fact,” and you start panicking at his next words, “i’ll post this online if you don’t grind that ass back for me.”

you swallow and start to do as he says. the glass is cool as you rub your folds along it, your slick dirtying the glass as you move your folds on the glass door. of course, the glide isn’t smooth—your clit keeps catching on the glass, but the fact that you’re bare to the world, any stray eyes being able to see you on display arouses you to no extent. you’re ashamed of being aroused at having to perform for a stranger, but you continue regardless and clutch the phone in your hand as he speaks to you again.

“the fuck you so wet for?” the voice mocks you. “you get off on this shit?”

“fuck you,” you moan, continuing to rub yourself. “i hate you.” 

the man laughs meanly. “for someone you hate, you’re getting pretty wet for me, baby.” the sounds of him stroking his dick are even louder as you grind against the door at the same tempo that he moves his hand at, grunting as you continue moaning into the mic. “look at how you’re clenching—good girl. want me to come in and make you cum?”

“real fucking cocky,” you hiss into the phone, “really fuckin cocky of you to think you can make me cum. with the way you had to threaten me, i just know you have a micro.”

as soon as you say that, the call hangs up and you look at your screen in confusion. that is, until you feel hands on your bare hips, knees–covered in black fabric—pressing against the junction between your thighs. “say that again,” the voice whispers.

you turn, eyes wide and heart speeding up as you turn to see the very figure that showed up in your movie. reminiscent of the killer, a tall man in a mask is hunched over you, now moving his hands to grip at your hands. “let’s take this to the bed, shall we?”

“oh shit,” ghostface curses, continuously snapping photos of your lips, the flash going off in the dark room. “look at this,” and he brings the camera closer and closer to your pussy, using his other hand to spread your lips as you helplessly lie on the bed, forced to spread your legs for him. “this pussy clenches everytime the flash goes off!” and he’s laughing, mocking you as slick leaves your hole in drops as the utter way you’re being humiliated. he grabs your cheeks roughly with the hand that was spreading your nether regions, squeezing them together and focusing the camera on your face. “this is the slut i’m going to fuck. gonna suck my cock, right?”

“mhm,” you whimper, resigned to your fate. making quick work of his robe, he takes them off completely, still leaving his mask in place. as he uncovers his pelvis, your eyes immediately rove over the hardened muscles on his abdomen. there’s a pink happy trail leading down to his dick, which is furiously red and standing. he grabs it, pumping the length as he moves closer and closer to your face until his precum is smearing against your face.

 “fuck,” he curses, as he takes in the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him dumbly, lips puckered as he slaps his cock against your cheeks until your cheeks are turning red. you’re giving kitten licks to his tip every time he alternates between slapping your two cheeks, not knowing what do to with yourself except focus on your oral fixation telling you instinctively to suck his cock. he then uses his fingers to pull your mouth open and slowly feeds his cock inside, eyes rolling back as soon as he feels your warm breath and hot tongue encompass him. 

you’re sucking at his tip and alternating between licking the rest of his dick, and he’s lost in the tight, wet heat of your mouth hollowing around him. you then prop yourself on your knees, using your hands to grab and play with his balls, stimulating him even more and causing him to rip out of your mouth and growls, “on your hands and knees. now.”

he doesn’t give you sufficient time to turn around and fully adjust in your position as he’s slamming into your roughly, the wet plush of your pussy too enticing. because you didn’t see it coming, your face is smushed against the pillow, and he grabs at your hands, using his free hand to hold them together at the small of your back. 

“you like my cock, baby?”  he pants, sweat beginning to run down his torso. when you don’t respond, he lets go of your hands to smack you consecutive times on your ass. “answer me.”

“i love it sooo much,” you babble, too lost in the pleasure to form more coherent thoughts as you ramble. “it’s splitting me—oh my god.” your eyes roll back—in pain or pleasure, you can’t decide—as his cock kisses your cervix. the masked man keeps thrusting in you, the sounds of his hips smacking into yours echoing throughout your room in a series of plap plap plap’s. 

“yea? fuck, i’m so close. you wanna live baby?” he grabs your hair and pulls, giving you a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. “let me come inside. you’ll let me dump my cum in you, right?”

you only clenched tighter at his words. “please,” you sobbed. “please come inside. please paint my walls. i want your cum so bad.” 

you were so close, staving off your orgasm until he filled you up. at your words, the intruder laughed mockingly and kept thrusting into you, but the telltale sloppiness of his hips indicated that he was close. “god, what a slut—” he was interrupted by his own climax, and as soon as the thick ropes of cum filled you, you came with a squeal, your back arching impossibly further as your thrashed on his dick because of the intensity of your orgasm. both of you rid it together, panting as you came down. 

he pulls out of you, and before you can catch your breath, the man flops his entire weight on top of you, making you laugh as you let out a startled exclamation, “ryo!”

you squirm beneath him, trying to push him off, but it’s futile. he’s far too big and heavy, and he knows it. with a low, lazy chuckle, your boyfriend, sukuna ryomen, removes his mask—tossing it carelessly onto the floor—before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.

“did you enjoy that stupid thing you wanted, brat?” he mumbles, slightly panting in exhaustion.

his words are snarky, but you can hear the affection laced beneath them. your heart swells with a sudden rush of warmth, the fondness you feel for him almost overwhelming. it’s moments like this—where he does something ridiculous just because you asked, despite all his grumbling—that remind you why you love him so much.

you wrap your arms around his broad back, fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “you didn’t have to go all out, you know,” you whisper, smiling into his hair. “but i really appreciate it. you’re kind of the best, even when you pretend you’re not.”

ryomen grunts, but there’s no bite to it. he tightens his hold around you, his large frame practically cocooning you in warmth. you feel his lips brush softly against the skin of your neck, a tender gesture that contrasts with his usual roughness.

“yeah, well... you’re lucky i love you, freak,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. despite his usual bravado, there’s something undeniably soft in the way he says it, as if the words are meant just for you.

you hum contentedly, feeling the weight of his body press you into the mattress. it’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. you trace circles on his back with your fingertips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, where it’s just you and him—no roleplay, no teasing—just the quiet aftermath of love.

“lucky, huh?” you tease back softly. “i’d say we’re both pretty lucky.”

ryomen huffs a quiet laugh against your skin before lifting his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. then, he gets up and makes a move to walk out the door. at first, you thought he was heading towards the bathroom door to give you a towel to clean you up, but he’s heading towards the door—soft cock swinging, butt naked—and you’re only left in confusion as to what he’s doing.

“ryo, where are you going?”

“fixin myself a sandwich, i’m hungry,” he grumbles over his shoulder, leaving you dumbfounded. you’re left sitting on the bed as he continues the trek down the stairs to satiate his post sex hungries. 

“hey!” you shriek, “your balls are out! what if yuji sees?” 

later, when yuji walks deliriously into the kitchen to see his uncle’s cock and balls, he almost wishes he could fully succumb to his fever.

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n hehe i love fluffy sukuna. consider joining my kinktober taglist if you'd like!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto

[beloveds-embrace]

The “Shared wife” trope and you’re John Price’s darling little housewife. The light of his life. His precious angel. The home he keeps in his house.

You are truly the best thing that has happened to him; all soft smiles and sweet words, a warm embrace he can melt to and shed all of the sharp edges he must bear whenever he’s deployed and carries the weight of the world across his shoulders.

The same world outside your little home was a cruel one, one where John had made more enemies than he cared to count. Each mission, each order barked into a comms unit, and each bullet fired carried a price- one that weighed on him more heavily than the tactical vest he wore.

But there was you, and he’d do it all again if it means having you safe and sound.

His darling. His beloved. The soft warmth of your hands, the sweetness of your smile. You were his sanctuary, his reprieve from the shadows of his work. And because of that, he could not- would not- allow anything to take you from him.

It wasn’t just him anymore, though. They were always there, watching. Protecting- for you belonged to John, and so did they, but you weren’t sharpened like them and you didn’t have to be; they’d be sharp enough for you, too. Guard dogs, their leashes held by John.

Especially when John tugged on those leashes and had them stay with you while he was away on a different mission. As if he’d ever leave you alone, all by your lonesome.

Kyle was the easiest to adjust, his role almost seamless. He lingered in the background, watchful but not intrusive and never forceful in joining your space, his easy charm disarming to anyone who might venture too close. He’d follow John’s orders without hesitation, his voice steady over the phone and comms after Price sent him to patrol the property’s edges.

“It’s quiet out here,” he’d murmur, voice a low hum in the radio. “No sign of trouble. As it should be.”

Soap, of course, tugged harder on the leash. He had energy to spare, bounding about the property like an overzealous hound. But it wasn’t just his sharp instincts that made him invaluable; it was his ability to diffuse tension with a grin and a joke, to make you feel like the safest person in the world, and coax you back inside while distracting you from whatever lingered outside.

It shouldn’t be for you to worry. All you needed to do was stay your lovely, content self, curled up all warm and cozy in your favorite spots like a particularly cherished kitten.

“Dinnae worry, lass,” he’d say as he hefted a bag of groceries from your car, muscles flexing under his shirt. “Nothin’ gets past us. We’re like the bloody Buckingham Palace guards- but more handsome. What are you making for lunch? How about I show you a family recipe, eh?”

And then there was Simon.

Ghost was quiet, his presence as much a shadow as his name suggested. But you always knew when he was near, the subtle shift in the air around you as his dark eyes followed your every move. He was the one who lingered just a little longer after everyone else had gone to bed, his massive frame nearly invisible against the darkened walls and only showing himself just so you wouldn’t get frightened.

“You don’t have to do that.” You’d tell him softly, catching sight of him through the kitchen window as he circled the house, even though you were so sure John was overreacting and these men needed to calm down. “Si, please. It’s cold tonight, too.”

But he would only shake his head, low and unyielding. “It’s my job to keep you safe. Don’t worry about me. Let’s get you back inside, Price’ll have my head if you catch a cold.”

And John truly kept them in line, orders sharp and precise. It was a dynamic they understood instinctively, honed from years of serving under him. He was their captain, their leader, their handler, and when it came to you, his commands were absolute.

But you were the one who softened them.

It started small: a hand on Kyle’s shoulder when he seemed tense, massaging the knots out, a gentle laugh at one of Soap’s outrageous jokes with his hand on your lower back, a quiet “thank you” murmured to Ghost as he handed you something you hadn’t even asked for yet ended up needing. They responded to you as if they were attuned to you, sharp edges dulling in your presence until they were handing you the leashes themselves.

Soap once joked about it- how they were like a pack of loyal dogs, their ears pricking up whenever you entered the room.

“You’ve got us all wrapped around your little finger, love,” he’d teased, earning a gruff “Shut it, MacTavish” from Price. Because they stayed, even when John returned. Because they belonged.

But it was true.

They followed John’s orders without question, but when you asked something of them, it wasn’t obedience- it was devotion. Ask them for the world, and they will drag it to your doorstep bleeding and heaving. Ask them for the sun, and they will tear it out of the sky to present it to you on burnt palms.

“Simon, will you check the garden gate for me? I think the latch is loose again.” You’d say, and he’d rise without hesitation, broad shoulders brushing the doorway as he left. And then he’d return, and patiently wait until you’d kiss his cheek.

“Kyle, do you mind grabbing the mail? It’s pouring out there.”

“Anything for you, darling.” Gaz would reply, already pulling on his jacket, and when he’d return he’d make sure you wouldn’t get wet while he leaned down and stole a kiss on your forehead.

“Johnny, help me with this jar, will you?”

“Aye, lass, but only if you kiss me.” Soap would tease, though he’d already have the jar in hand, his grin softening when you rolled your eyes. Still, he’d obediently lower his head for you to peck.

And John watched it all with quiet pride. They were his men, and he trusted them with his life. Now, he trusted them with yours. Because they were his, and you were his, and all of you should have been together from the start anyways.

You were worth protecting. Worth loving. Worth the world itself, because you were one and the same to them.

The first time you teased him about it- about how he seemed to have the entire Task Force at his beck and call- he simply pulled you into his arms and kissed you until you were clinging to his shoulders, breathless and warm.

“They’d do anything for you,” he murmured against your hair, then. “Same as me. You’re ours to protect.”

It was possessive, yes, but not in a way that stifled you, not like shackles that bound you to a prison. It wasn’t a cage; it was a fortress, each of them a stone in the walls that kept you safe.

And you, their sweet, lovely little wife, were the center of it all. Safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Nanami wants you to ride his face...

It was no secret that Nanami read books. Any kind of book. But sometimes he would read something not so wholesome…

Laying on the futon of his home office, eyes half lidded, glasses sitting low on his nose. As he reads, his mind wanders to you. His cock growing tighter in his pants, thinking about what it would be like to reciprocate these acts in the bedroom with you. One specific part caught his attention though. His hand absentmindedly wanders down to his hard erection, his mind racing with the thought of you sitting on his face.

A soft knock on his door puts him out of his trance. “What would you like for dinner, Ken?” you ask softly from outside the door. Nanami froze. His face reddening as he shuts the book. Not sure if he should be more embarrassed about what he was reading or what he was imagining. He adjusted himself before walking up to the door himself and opening it. He appreciated how you were always respectful of his personal space and knocked.

“Oh, hi honey…” your face brightens as he opens the door. The sight of your smile filled Nanami with love, but it wasn’t helping his erection. He doesn’t say anything besides wrapping his arms around, bringing you into a tight embrace. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you returned the hug. “Someone feels a little clingy today?” you chuckle, running your hands over his back.

Nanami burrows his face into your hair. Inhaling your sweet scent he adored. His fingers run over the natural curves of your body, as he presses gentle kisses to your cheek. “I apologize, I feel… I need you right now.” Nanami murmurs into your ear, his declaration runs a shiver up your body. The way he was leaning onto you caused you to hold onto his shoulders, exposing your neck to him. He wastes no time in attacking it, placing his “needy” kisses on it.

Nanami had many ways he liked to kiss you. You have his sincere kisses when he wants you to know he's there for you and he loves you. Peck on the cheek and hand kisses in public. But your favorite kind he gives you are the ones that always lead to more. Where he becomes a little more flirty, nipping at your skin, digging his teeth in, hands roaming all over your body. Squishing anything he could get his hands on.

It’s not long before you both stumble into the room, not being able to get your hands and mouths of each other, until Nanami breaks the kiss, his expression now restless, with desire behind those honey-brown eyes. “I have a request…” he clears his throat. You smile at the way he breaks eye contact with you because he’s nervous. “What kind of request?’ you bat your eyelashes at him. Nanami swears he could die then and there if he wasn’t already embarrassed enough. He walks over to the bed, awkwardly laying flat on it.

“You want me to ride you?” you laugh at how he just lays down. Nanami shakes his head. “Sit. On my face. Please.” he stutters out, giving you a quick glance before he breaks eye contact again, leaving you speechless, this wasn’t something you had tried out before. The desire in his eyes told you he was desperate for this. He looked like he was on the verge of getting on his knees and begging you. “We haven’t tried that yet…” you smirk at him, leaning closer to him. “Is that a no?” he looks at you again, eyes urging you to give in.

Nanami couldn’t help himself once you were hovering over his face. He takes in your scent, closing his eyes, his nose tickling your entrance. Your breath hitching as you look for something to hold on too, eventually resting your hands on the headboard in front of you. Nanami’s breath catches in his throat, he could not believe it was actually happening. His hands find purchase on your thighs, groping them like his life depended on it.

“Keep your eyes on me Kento…” You coo as you look down at him. He could moan at just the sound of your voice, he couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense as he begins to worship you with his tongue. Savoring the taste of you, hands roaming all over your hips and ass, devouring your cunt desperately.

The moment you think he is finally satisfied, he’s not. Only pulling you down more on his face, sharp eyes still on you just like you told him. He didn’t want to miss anything. Music to his ears the way you say his name like a spell, your victim being him and only him. The way you cried out when he would tease your clit just right. And the way you grind against his face was all he could ever ask for. He could die a happy man right then and there.

“Fuck…” you whine, your hand coming down to grip his hair, only driving him more insane. His grunts grow louder as the pleasure and pain mix together delectably. His tongue lapping you up with a new found energy, with confidence you didn’t know he could possess. Eager to chase your orgasm so you cream all over his face. His own arousal building up every second you're on his face.

"Oh god Kento… i'm so close,” you continue your ministrations on his face. His fingers tightening around your ass. He gazes up at you with the most sexy bedroom eyes filled with adoration and desperation, his just pleading for one chance to watch you fall apart on and all over his face. To make a mess on him. “Go ahead, sweetheart…” he mumbles against your sopping, sensitive cunt.

A cry of ecstasy echoes the room as your orgasm finally takes over your body, holding onto the headboard again to stabilize yourself. The man under you is still lapping up everything you are willing to give him. You continue to grind yourself on his face, riding out your orgasm. Nanami’s eyes rolling back in complete and utter bliss, your slick coating his chin and cheeks. Waves of pleasure run through your body, your only thought being Nanami. The way he looked under you, making you hot all over again. Intimacy so intense you could burst.

Realization hits you after your orgasm, finally deciding to remove yourself from his face so he wouldn’t suffocate. Nanami gasps for air as you lift off him, a small giggle escaping your lips. His chest heaving with the exertion that just happened. His eyes still glazed over with lust, taking in the sight of you.

“So where did you get this idea from?” you tease him, poking his shoulder.

A dorky smile spreads across his perfect face as he climbs on top of you, meeting you face to face.

“I read about it…”

[pseudowho]

You hadn't heard Kento arrive home, but moved from garden to living room like a moth to the flame, when you heard the telltale clink-clink of him removing his harness.

You sidled up behind him, a tease in your voice, dragging one languid finger down his spine.

"What's a guy like you, doing in a place like this, huh?"

A low chuckle. "I'm sure I'm meant to be here."

You bit your lip. "Me too. It must be fate. Does your wife know you're here, Mr...?"

"Nanami. And I certainly hope she does."

You weaved your way round to face him, now, sliding your hands from broad chest to shoulders, all peaks and valleys of stone.

"And what would she say," you whispered, circling one fingertip over his chest until he shivered, lifting one knee to brace against his hip, "if she knew there was someone like me, here?" Kento looked down at you, honey-rich eyes narrowing, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"That's what you want, is it?" He whispered back, low voice barely audible in the moonlight-flood living room. "A little...roleplay?" Your eyes glimmered at him in confirmation, and he chuckled. "Alright, then." You felt yourself tremble with anticipation.

Abrupt and firm, his smile replaced by a scowl, Kento removed your leg from his hip.

"Get your hands off me."

You gawped at him. Kento stepped back, clearing his throat, and adjusting his tie, the wedding ring glinting on his finger.

"I'll excuse you, just once, but I'm a married man. Happily."

"Kento, I--"

"That's Mr.Nanami to you. I don't recall us ever meeting, and I don't enjoy such intimate familiarity with strangers."

"--you are just so--"

"I'm sorry for whatever has happened in your life, for you to have such little self-respect, or respect for others, that you have such ill-intent towards a married man--"

You withered onto the sofa under his cool tirade.

"--but I wish you all the best in your future endeavours, while I wait for my wife."

"You are a fucking nightmare--"

"And how did you get in my house? I'll give you ten seconds to leave, before I call the police--"

You screamed into a sofa cushion.

"--do you have somewhere safe to go? Are you hungry? Thirsty, certainly. I can pay for a taxi--"

You felt your soul leave your body.

"--I do hope we don't meet again--"

You laughed, humourless, face down in the pillow.

"-- good day to you."

Kento walked away to the bathroom, leaving you prone and mortified on the sofa. You heard the shower start to run. You lifted your head, shouting at him, furious in your laughter.

"Fuck you for being so fucking pure, Mr.Nanami! Your wife is a lucky woman!"

A deep laugh from the bathroom. "Yes, she is."

[reyalvr]

SHE’S MINE | 00

CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series

word count ┊ 798

author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!

prev. | next

SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.

He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you. 

It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right. 

“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”

Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…

…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next. 

“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?” 

Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?” 

“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…” 

“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining. 

The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up. 

“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”

Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. 

He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.