#I can just imagine the meetings with clients where they do their best to do the bare minimum

[opisasodomite]

On a semi related note, digital accessibility can be an incredibly boring job, most of the day to day is tedious review of the same pages and documents, but all the same it’s one of the few things you can do professionally that objectively, with no qualifications, makes the world a better place. And that’s pretty cool :)

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin 

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you. 

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it? 

Fuck me. This shit is highschool. 

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it. 

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now? 

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos. 

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy. 

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize. 

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy. 

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?” 

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning? 

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Tch. Omegas.” 

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?” 

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?” 

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?” 

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?” 

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not. 

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.” 

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually. 

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad. 

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck? 

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.” 

“Okay, cool. When's your next–” 

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.” 

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.” 

“M'not. Fuck you.” 

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?” 

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm. 

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never. 

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today. 

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now. 

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!” 

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him. 

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?” 

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly. 

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention. 

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents. 

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy. 

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked. 

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?” 

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha. 

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?” 

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna. 

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.” 

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little. 

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons. 

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?” 

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.” 

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.” 

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise. 

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.” 

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit. 

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.” 

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore. 

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–” 

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.” 

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor. 

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features. 

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose. 

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?” 

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up. 

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.” 

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.” 

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.” 

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.” 

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–” 

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted. 

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes. 

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–” 

“I'll take you home.” 

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.” 

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature. 

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.” 

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh. 

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe. 

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–” 

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?” 

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first. 

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control. 

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash. 

“Fucking–wait, just–” 

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door. 

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone. 

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him. 

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges. 

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?” 

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast. 

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.” 

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled. 

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.” 

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat. 

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.” 

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?” 

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.” 

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?” 

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue. 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.” 

“Wow.” 

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door. 

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face. 

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad. 

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.” 

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away. 

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard. 

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.” 

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?” 

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?” 

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you. 

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–” 

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did). 

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really. 

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail. 

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else. 

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt). 

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry. 

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it. 

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches. 

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath. 

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing. 

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink. 

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.” 

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire. 

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.” 

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.” 

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time. 

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though. 

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked. 

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?” 

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.” 

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?” 

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.” 

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.” 

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes. 

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it. 

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?” 

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly. 

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.” 

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go. 

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.” 

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that. 

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched. 

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?” 

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in. 

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more. 

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.” 

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide. 

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest. 

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it. 

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun. 

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once. 

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey. 

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed. 

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.” 

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you. 

But maybe, maybe, you had a point. 

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up. 

“Ow. Gross.” 

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.” 

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.” 

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst. 

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

[min-imum]

ceo mingyu and office siren reader?? 😍😍😍

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: afab!reader, size kink, reader is smaller than mingyu, office sex, semi-public??, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), tit fucking!!!!! omg, spit as lube because mingyu never imagined he’d be having sex in his office…, crying from pleasure!!!!, let me know if i missed anything, i realised i didn’t really emphasise the office siren part sorry :(, not proofread forgive me

anon this was honestly such an interesting ask to receive. i took so long to write this because i’ve been thinking about how i want this to go (on top of the crushing guilt i felt for skipping earlier asks but my writers’ block is, unfortunately, selective) but i’m ready now because i saw mingyu in office attire…... he’d make such a hot CEO, blazer always folded neatly over a chair, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, just enough buttons left open to be sexy but not inappropriate, expensive watch wrapped around his right wrist.

mr kim is probably the best boss you’ve ever worked for, too — he’s kind but not too giving, he makes sure everyone does the work they’re supposed to do, he resolves problems amicably as much as possible, and he’s not an ass about taking time off work. he feeds the staff sometimes, ordering surprise catering or bubble tea for everyone. he delegates work fairly and doesn’t dump too much on an unlucky underpaid worker.

additionally, the pay he offers is really good, enough for you to splurge every now and then. it hadn’t been this way at any of your previous jobs, where you slaved away to make ends meet. now, even in your upgraded apartment (with it’s upgraded rent), you’re able to spend money to take care of yourself with new products and spa days and branded bags.

he’s unbelievably charming — strong eyebrows and a pretty smile that works wonders during meetings with clients, a superb memory that ensures he knows his staff’s likes and dislikes, and compassion and empathy that makes him a wonderful superior.

so, naturally, you fall for him.

just a little bit. maybe. he’s nice, and all, but you’re sure you can find someone better somewhere else. besides, that’s your CEO, the one and only kim mingyu. he wouldn’t choose you even if you chose him.

you keep your head down and do your best to be a good employee. you’ve never missed a deadline, and you work doubly as hard to cover your sick days (even if he tells you you really don’t have to, he’s got it covered, seriously), and you try to limit the cost you incur from the company’s unlimited coffee policy. you proofread all your reports three times just to be sure. you’re friendly with all your coworkers. you drink at company parties, just enough to fit in, never so much that you’re anywhere close to being drunk.

you stir your coffee slowly, yawning — you’d slept late last night, so today you allow yourself to have an extra cup or two of coffee. the creamer you added swirls into the coffee and fades.

“didn’t take you for a no sugar type of woman.”

you nearly jump, and turn around to see your boss standing next to you, teasing grin on his face. you hold your hand to your chest. “god, you scared me,” you huff. “sugar makes it too sweet and that makes me sleepy.”

“so you do like sugar, just not during work?” mingyu asks, eyebrow raised. you nod.

Do Not Look Down, you tell yourself. Absolutely Do Not Look Down.

ha. too late. you catch yourself staring at his chest straining against his shirt, biceps filling up his sleeves, and blush bright red immediately.

“s-sorry,” you stammer, picking up your coffee and making your escape. “i have a report to get to. nice chat!”

he snickers as you scuttle off, coffee clutched in your hands.

—

good bosses don’t pick favourites, especially not when all their employees work equally as hard and produce decent results.

mingyu, unfortunately, might not meet that criteria. (fortunately, though, it seems like he’s not the only one that likes you. he sees the eyes following you through the office, and he definitely also sees the guy that intentionally takes the long way around the office to the lift just to pass by your desk.)

you’re a wonderful employee that also happens to be absolutely gorgeous. you submit your work on time, you’re civil with all your fellow coworkers, you do your job well, your hair is always tied up neatly, your shirt is always tucked properly into your pencil skirt, your skirt makes your ass look good—

he runs a hand over his face, huffing at himself. you’re his employee who has shown him nothing but respect. he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

but god, he’d be lying to himself if he said he hasn’t thought about your pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his cock, or about tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging, or about playing with your tits until you’re sensitive and whiny.

“come in,” he calls, when he hears a knock on the door. his composure promptly flies out the window when it’s you that steps in. your skirt makes your legs look like they go on for miles, even though he knows you aren’t all that tall. he towers over you easily. his cock twitches at the thought and he immediately files the thought away for later, shaking his head to clear his mind.

“i just wanted to bring you these documents,” you say, handing him a stack of files. he nods dumbly as he observes the difference in size between his hand and yours. your lips, soft and inviting, curve around the words you’re saying. he might be a little distracted.

“—earth to boss man,” he hears you call. he jolts back, then chuckles sheepishly.

“sorry, i was distracted,” mingyu rubs his neck. “could you repeat that?”

“sure,” you agree easily. you tell him — again — about a new potential company partnership, then about a little feud that seems to be starting between two of your coworkers, and finally you offer to make him coffee.

“you look tired and out of it,” you observe. “maybe coffee will help. i can bring you some.”

he wants to laugh. he’s not tired, no, he’s just horny and his wet dream is standing in front of him.

“coffee sounds nice,” he says instead. “thank you.”

you step back out of his office to make him his coffee, and he slumps back in his chair, groaning. you’re perfect. he might be a good boss, but a large part of it is because he has you — you point out all the little, blossoming problems that may become major issues over time so he can stomp them out before they even start, and you’re more than competent at your job. it helps that you’re easy on the eyes, too, always presentable and pretty and looking like someone he wants to ruin.

—

when you return with your coffee, you expect to hand it over and return to your desk.

what you’re absolutely not expecting, however, is for your boss to ask you to stay.

you stay frozen in place as mingyu stands and rounds the table before finally stopping in front of you.

“i have to admit,” mingyu says, hands clasped behind his back. “you’re… quite captivating. you’re a hard worker, you’re a sociable person, and it’s been wonderful having you here.”

you nod, confused. he steps closer to you, and oh — now you can smell the scent of his cologne, musky and masculine, and now you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

“am i making you uncomfortable?” he asks.

you hesitate. the mature, correct answer would be yes, please step away from me, sir. but is that really the case? his scent permeates the air. his choice of cologne matches him well. subtle but memorable, powerful but not overbearing. you press your thighs together, swallowing.

“no,” you squeak.

“then, may i touch you?”

you nod, but his eyes narrow. “words, darling.”

you shiver. “yes. please.”

“good girl.” satisfied, he rests his hands on your waist, and one hand moves up to stroke your cheek gently. “you’re beautiful, you know? captured my attention since day one. my attention, and everyone else’s. i think half your coworkers might have a crush on you.”

you lean into his touch, eyes fixated on his, not really paying attention to anything he’s saying. you’re certain you’ve had a wet dream just like this before.

“can i kiss you?”

in lieu of an answer, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss. you moan when he squeezes your waist, and he licks into your mouth. his tongue tangles with yours. it’s sloppy and disgusting and wet and you love it.

“mr kim,” you whine. he shushes you.

“just mingyu.”

“mingyu… please touch me.” you guide his hand to your chest, and he gropes your tit through your clothes, groaning.

“shit, it’s even better than i imagined,” he murmurs.

“do you wanna fuck them?”

his eyes go wide and he moans loudly. “fuck, yes.”

the two of you make quick work of your shirt — he nearly sends the buttons of your shirt flying with how frantic he was, and he snaps the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. you tug your shirt out of where it’s tucked into your skirt and pull it off, throwing it onto a nearby chair. your bra follows and he eyes your tits greedily. he unbuttons his own shirt, then his pants too, and pulls his hard cock out of his pants.

the size of his cock makes you salivate, excited to have a taste. and his body… his body is sculpted by the gods, all muscle and defined lines. the thin sheen of sweat makes him glow.

he places a cushion on the floor for you. you kneel on the cushion and press your tits together with your arms.

“fuck, baby, you’re perfect,” he moans. he spits onto his cock a few times and strokes it, then positions himself between your breasts. he clenches his abs desperately to hold his orgasm at bay.

slowly, he starts fucking between your tits, grunts leaving his lips with every thrust. he whimpers when you lean your head down to lick at the tip whenever it pokes up between your tits. you allow your own saliva to dribble onto his cock and your tits to ease the slide.

it doesn’t take long — this is probably the hottest situation he’s ever been in — and soon, he’s coming all over your face and breasts with a groan. “shit,” he curses. “you’re too sexy, baby.”

with a thumb, he swipes up all the cum on your face and feeds it to you, and you accept it with a dazed smirk. mingyu helps you stand again, and starts sucking hickeys onto your breasts, licking up his own release and leaving his marks behind. then, he presses his lips back onto yours, passing the cum in his mouth to you. it’s so hot and dirty that it makes you dizzy.

his hands slide down to your skirt. he grabs two fistfuls of your ass and moans into your mouth.

“mingyu,” you whine. he coos at you. with one swipe of his arm, he clears his table, folders clattering to the floor.

mingyu lifts you onto the table, then tugs at your skirt hurriedly. you try lifting your ass to help him take the skirt off, but he simply shoves your skirt up your thighs and drops to his knees. “fuck,” you moan. “are you gonna—”

he responds by pressing his nose against your core through your panties. his nose bridge bumps your clit, making you whimper, and the deep inhale he takes nearly makes you cum on the spot.

“smells so good, baby,” he praises. “bet you’ll taste even better.”

he peels your soaked panties off your cunt and slides them off your legs. “can i keep these, darling?”

you moan. “yes,” you reply. “anything you want.”

he slides your panties into his pocket, then presses his face directly into your pussy. there’s no preamble before he’s eating you out frantically, licking and sucking and nibbling, and you grab his hair to ground yourself, nearly screaming in pleasure. “yes, yes,” you chant, whining loudly. “fuck, i’m going to cum so fast.”

soon, you’re fucked dumb, his tongue putting you into a daze, and all you can do is babble mindlessly and cry.

with a shout, you cum onto his face, and he licks you through it, nose pressing insistently at your clit. you jerk in sensitivity for a minute before you finally push him off.

mingyu looks absolutely pussy-drunk, eyes glazed over with a dumb smile on his face. “so good,” he murmurs. “can you go again?”

“i would, but i really want your cock inside me now, mingyu.” you pant.

he springs into action. mingyu stands from where he’d been kneeling and shoves his pants down his legs. you watch, dazed, as he steps out of them and steps towards you.

then, he grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your front, making you squeal.

“mingyu?!”

“been wanting to bend you over my desk,” mingyu says gruffly. “fuck you from behind. can i, baby?”

you moan. “please, yes, give it to me—”

you hear him spit again, and then the head of his cock presses against your entrance. he’s so much bigger than you’d anticipated. you scramble to grab the edge of the table as he rocks into you slowly, a long, loud whine forced out of you. his spit may not have been enough lube, but there’s more than enough of your slick to ease the slide.

his cock bullies into you, stretching you out deliciously and almost painfully, and it never seems to end.

“what a pretty pussy,” he murmurs. “taking my cock so well.”

“a-ah, love your cock,” you babble. “‘s so good.”

“god, i’ve barely even started and you’re already fucked dumb.” he growls. “aren’t you just so perfect for me, doll?”

he hisses when your cunt clenches around his cock. “yes!” you cry. “all for you. all yours.”

his hips buck at your words, and the remaining couple of inches are shoved into your cunt, making you cry out in surprise. he rubs your back in apology, and as soon as you give him the go-ahead, he starts fucking you earnestly.

he gropes your tits and your ass and admires the view of you sprawled out across his work desk, naked save the skirt bunched around your waist, face plastered sideways onto the tabletop. he leans forward and fucks you harder, and you scramble desperately, trying to find something to hold onto, fingertips clawing at the table.

“ungh, mingyu,” you moan. “s-so good, so good—”

“yeah? tell me how much you like my cock, baby.”

“so big, so warm,” you cry. “harder, harder!”

he pistons into you and the pleasure overwhelms you. your cunt clenches around his cock as you try to hold back your orgasm.

“fuck, baby,” he swears. “so tight and warm around me. i’m not going to last long.”

you’re sobbing now. “g-gonna cum,” you whimper. “wanna cum.”

he slides a finger over your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to cum with a scream. he fucks you through your orgasm into oversensitivity, and you clench around him sporadically as you twitch, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

“where d’you want it?” he asks, teeth clenched.

“inside, please give it to me inside,” you answer quickly.

with a growl, he starts to cum, shooting hot semen into your pussy. it makes you cum again, arching violently, and he fucks you through both of your orgasms.

finally, he slows, and pulls out gingerly. he flips you onto your back, then watches the cum start dripping out of your pussy with a dopey, satisfied grin.

you pant, chest heaving enticingly, as you recover from your two orgasms in record time. “well shit,” you mutter. “that was probably the best sex i’ve had in my life.”

“guess it needs to happen again, then,” mingyu says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. you laugh, slapping his arm, and he giggles too, fending off your attacks.

“but for real, though, i do really like you. and. i know we kind of fast-forwarded a little bit, but i’d like if we could try getting to know each other and maybe try dating…?” he asks, suddenly shy.

“i’ll agree to that,” you say, watching him perk up. “on one condition.”

his eyes are bright with puppy-like excitement. “what is it?”

you point down your body at the cum pooling on your pussy and dripping onto the table. “find a way to clean that up.”

with a smirk, he drops to his knees again.

“with pleasure.”

[henry7931]

TF NBM/Head Swap Shorts I

Personal Trainer

Zach:

I think most people really push to meet their personal body goals but it takes a lot of motivation. My client Bradley puts in the work but I know sometimes it can be exhausting especially after a long day. That’s why I offer my customer’s a once a week head swap where I let them have my body for a day while I work out with theirs.

I actually really enjoy having Bradley’s body, he’s exactly my type! Thick and hairy. So it’s an extra bonus that I can work out naked since Bradley’s not here.

I even reward myself with a jerk session using Bradley’s thick cock. God this fury chest and these stinky pits… I’ve been working hard.

I run Bradley’s fingers over his sweaty hairy balls and bring them up to my noise.

“Yep… it’s time to have some fun now!”

I get up go over to Bradley’s bed and start sniffing his big smelly hairy feet. God, I sometimes just look forward to this all week.

I lay back and start jerking his meat.

I look over at the clock and notice the time. I still have 2 hours.

Hell, I could get loads done in that time! Woohoo!!

Bradley:

God I love my personal trainer, I don’t even give a shit about the work out. I just love that once a week, I get to have his body for a whole day.

I love exploring every inch of him. His nice bubbly ass, his thick cock, the muscles, oh I can’t forget about his big sexy feet!

I’m so glad that I really don’t need to do anything when we swap heads. Zach thinks that I work remote from his home but I haven’t told him that my day off is the same day we swap.

I’m just glad that I can send my entire day playing with his cock. I’ll spend hours stroking it and edging it. When I’m ready for it to bust, I’ll pull my head off and plant my mouth right on it.

It’s the best feeling, using your own head like a toy. And I get to swallow all of Zach’s load.

Hmmm I wonder if we would be open to swap for more than one day….

Roommate’s Condition

Mitchell

My roommate and one of my best friends Felix was recently diagnosed with a special condition where his body parts uncontrollably become detached.

Most of the time, it’s just his head separating body and it will wonder around our place. Sometimes it’s just his lower half of his body. Every now and then I’ll find his hand or his foot lying around on the floor.

I feel bad for him since he can’t really help it.

It’s been over a month since his diagnosis and I think he’s starting to accept it since they don’t have any kind of cure.

But one day he said something to me that I wasn’t ever expecting.

“Mitch, I know you’re gay and single. You’ve done a lot for me. I want to offer you something. You’re more than welcome to use my body parts to explore and enjoy. Just not my head lol”

I was stunned by his words, I knew Felix was straight so I could never imagined him making such a crazy offer.

So the first time I took him up on his offer was after I came home from a party just a little bit tipsy. I went to take a piss when I saw his lower half stuck in the shower. They must have fallen in at some point and I knew Felix was already asleep.

So I pick up his lower half and started to take them back to his room.

But I looked down at Felix’s sexy legs and feet…

I could feel a nervous excitement rush through me.

I turned to my room with his lower half and laid it down on my bed.

I took his feet into my hands and smelled them. I could feel his toes wiggling in excitement on my cheeks. I ran my tongue up and down his soles…

I was so turned on that I couldn’t help myself. I unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off along with his briefs.

I held his briefs in hands taking a huge whiff….

I looked down at Felix’s hairy balls and semi hard cock.

I start to toy with some until it was standing rock hard and leaking out a bit.

I reached into my drawer and pulled out my lube. I run it over his hairy hole and start gingerly inserting my fingers into it. It’s so tight…

Once I knew it loose enough, I pulled off my pants and started inserting my dick into it.

It’s so much easier getting it into him with an upper half. I positioned him to where I’m laying down and it’s on top of me.

I start showing it by guiding his hips on how to ride my dick.

Soon Felix’s lower half was becoming a pro at bottoming.

It felt so good! I would toy with his dick while letting his legs and butt do all of the work.

It started to most faster and I kept up with his speed on his dick. Started yanking at it and hurt a popping noise. His was now detached in my hands.

So I started sucking it back and forth like a lollipop.

I could feel myself getting so close!

I started to cum inside of him and what was so crazy was that his dick started to squirt in my mouth all at the same time!

I stuck his wet dick back into place and turned his ass around only see my cum leaking out.

I cleaned it up before bed and brought it back with me to cuddle with in bed.

Weeks later of hooking up, Felix’s body goes to bed with me every night knowing I’m going to get it off at night. I think his body not only enjoys the sex but also likes the companionship. And I do too.

Maybe one day his head will join us but for right now, I just love having his body with me!

Uncle Franks Out of Town, But His Body Isn’t!

Caleb:

God I love it when Uncle Frank gets me to watch his body for him.

He does this weird job where he had to wear certain bodies for it. He can’t tell me too much about it.

Although, I couldn’t care less! Because now I have an entire week where I can wear his body as my own.

Uncle Frank is about 6,2’, muscular, and has an ungodly size cock. You see how big his feet are?

Yeah, imagine what his dick looks like…

This time I started my morning off lying in his California sized king bed butt ass naked. It’s so comfy, I hardly want to move.

Then I fondled with his morning wood until I’m so close to cumming…

That’s when I got a very evil idea. I went to guest bedroom and picked up my 19 year old, petite body and brought it into his room with me.

My body was naked and covered in dry cum (mainly from the fun I had last night fulling around with uncle franks headless body) . I carried it back to his room where I placed it bed with me.

I positioned body to where my ass was easily accessible and started to lick my clean hole.

Once good and wet, I carefully inserted uncle Franks massive dick into it. But I only went half way scared I’d hurt myself.

I began thrusting which became kinda hard to do.

That’s when I got another idea, I pulled out of myself and repositioned my body.

I had both of my soft smooth feet in uncle Frank’s manly hands.

I spit on both of them and cupped them around his dick.

The softness of my soles felt soooo good on his dick.

I was turned on that could only last a few minutes before squirting loads of cum all over them.

Afterwards, I carried my body to the bathtub and started the water to let it soak.

I immediately had to piss but uncle franks dick was still so hard.

So I sat down on the toilet and peed, I can’t help but be so obsessed with my Uncle’s hairy legs and feet. They’re just so big and powerful.

I walked back over after my piss to my body, I noticed my cock was throbbing still from thrusting into my hole so I figured I’d help it out a bit. I jerked my body off and licked all of the excess cum off of uncle franks fingers.

God my morning has already started out great!

I walked back to franks room and saw my phone going off.

It’s my friend Jeremy FaceTiming me. I answered it not thinking about the fact that I still had my uncles body on.

“Dude… wait what the hell?”

“What?” I say back still not realizing.

“Caleb, whose body do you have on?”

Oh shit!

“Oh it’s um, well it’s my uncle franks.”

“You’re hot uncle???”

I rolled my eyes at the camera.

“I’m coming over now!”

Jeremy seemed so excited to come see my uncles body. Jeremy’s a good looking guy and I wouldn’t mind fooling around with him some time.

I wonder if he’d be open to it with uncle franks body on 😜

[yamumsyadadd]

different

Part of the Marquita universe. Others can be found here:

Marquita, mama and mami, accident

A/N: talks of homophobia, bullying. this was fun to write! If you have any more questions for Marquita or if I should make another universe let me know!

It was hard growing up with parents like Alexia Putellas and Jenni Hermoso. Both were incredibly talented footballers, attractive and smart, add Olga into the mix and it felt like you’d never reach the same level. 

Olga went to university, graduated top of her class and then went on to her masters, Alexia got a degree in business, and Jenni in economics. There were a lot of high expectations, in school, in football, in life in general. 

To be the daughter of two of spains best players in history, well it was back breaking work. Football was not a sport you enjoyed, at all. You weren’t horrible at it, but you weren’t at the same level as your parents or Tia’s. It was to be expected since you were only twelve. There was time to get better, to showcase your skills. Skills you didn’t have, nor did you really want. 

School wasn’t much better. You weren’t horrible but you were a dreamer, the teachers complained you were always off with the fairies but in honesty, you couldn’t care less. Maths was the only subject you cared about, you’d need it if you wanted to study engineering at university. 

The kids at school often picked on you for being that way, but you didn’t care that much. It was same with the football team. It was almost like the universe was conspiring against you. 

It was mid week, right before Christmas when you finally had enough. Your Mami was away for the UWCL game in Sweden, mama had just gone back to Mexico after spending her break with you. Olga’s work had died down a bit due to the holidays. 

Your relationship was still a bit strained since the accident but it was slowly repairing itself. 

“How do you do it?” You asked Olga as she closed her laptop for the night. 

“Do what?”

“Everything? Work in Madrid, Manuela’s, your relationship with Mami and your friends. It’s a lot to juggle.” 

“It is. It’s a bit easier now I’m in the routine but essentially my life is split in two. One half in Madrid, the other, more important half here, in Barcelona.” 

“You went to university, spent six years studying to do what? No offence but don’t you want more?” 

“In what way?”

“You have a degree in communications, you could be a journalist, a public relations person or I don’t know, in marketing but instead you work in social media?” 

“You don’t think I’m doing enough?” 

“Why social media Olga? Why not something more interesting, more meaningful?” 

“Why do your Mami and mama play football? Why do you? Because you all love it. Sure, I could be doing something else, stuck at a desk for nine hours a day, unhappy and bored. But by doing what I do, I get to travel the world with my clients, get introduced to people I’d never imagined meeting, help people became what they want.” 

You nodded your head, content with the answer, then stood up and packed up your homework, heading towards your room but not before turning to Olga, “I don’t love football. Not like Mami and mama. I am not like them and that’s okay.” You gave her a sad smile before turning out. 

“Mari-“ Olga started before hearing your door close. She let out a sigh, wondering where she went wrong this time. You had asked a question, slightly rudely, but she had answered. Given appropriate reasoning and yet, you seem sad about it all. It was truly baffling. 

Going to school the next day was hard. You were stuck in your head all day, wanting nothing more than to climb into bed and cry alone. But that wouldn’t happen, not when it was this close to Christmas and it seemed that every other day there was a Christmas event to be attended. 

When Pedro Diaz continuously threw his rubber at you in Spanish class, you ignored him. When Maria Santiago called you a freak in gym class because you could run the 3km, you ignored her. But when Diego Cruz said your Mami and mama were going to hell, you lost it. 

You weren’t dumb, everyone around you had talked about what it was like for them being gay, the good, the bad, the ugly. You heard it all, but the stories were from when they were kids, not from now. Now is supposed to be more welcoming, more accepting, but people like Diego and his parents exist. 

Alexia, Jenni and Olga had all received the same phone call. There had been an incident at school and they were needed as soon as possible. Obviously Jenni wasn’t able to make it, but both Olga and Alexia raced there. 

Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it, your Mami had bought two of her younger teammates. She was supposed to take Vicky and Jana home after they got to the training centre but she didn’t have time and they didn’t mind. 

Alexia and Olga arrived at the office at the same time. You were sitting there, hair a mess, a soon to be black eye and a bite mark on your arm. 

“Mari? What happened?” Alexia crouched down in front of you, hands on your knees. Just as you were about to reply, Diego and his parents walked out of the office. He looked a lot worse than you did. A blood nose that had dripped down onto his shirt, scratch’s around his jaw and neck, not one but two bruising eyes. 

“Ms Putellas, Ms Rios, please come in. Y/n, wait out here.” 

The tension in the office was palpable. Alexia was fuming, Olga was slightly confused but also mad, Diego’s parents look like they were ready to fight themselves. 

“There was an incident during afternoon break between your daughter and another student, Diego.” 

“An incident? That’s what you’re calling this? She’s sitting out there with a black eye, and a bite mark on her!” Alexia blew up. 

“Ale.” Olga put her hand on alexia’s forearm, trying to calm her down. 

“Diego was the instigator, however, your daughter threw him up against a locker, punching him repeatedly until she was pulled off him by two teachers.” The principal let it sink in for a moment before he continued on, “I am aware of a few issues that y/n has been facing, the bullying that other-“

“I’m sorry, bullying? You’re telling me my daughter, our daughter, has been getting bullied here and you haven’t been bothered to call one of us? That’s ridiculous!” Alexia said. 

“We were told by y/n that she had spoken to you. We have sent letters home, tried to call you and Jennifer. I must tell you, school isn’t the only place she’s been getting bullied. Y/n told the guidance councillor that at football she gets bullied too.“ 

When the words registered in Alexia’s head, she felt like she failed. Failed you as a mother, a person. You were getting bullied at school and football and she didn’t notice. 

“Where do we go from here?” Olga spoke up, noticing the battle her girlfriend was currently going through. 

“The school has a zero tolerance for violence, while Diego has been bullying her, and he will be dealt with, y/n was also apart of this fight so unfortunately I have no choice but to suspend her for the rest of the week.” 

“A suspension! No that’s not fair on her!” 

“I’m sorry. My hands are tied. I suggest you take her home, and have a conversation with her. We can’t do much more than what we are already doing. If you get anymore names, or it’s via social media, we can take further action but for now this is the only option.” 

When Alexia walked straight out of the office without saying anything to you, you knew you were in trouble. Olga gave you a sympathetic smile before motioning for you to get up. 

The car ride home was quiet. Your Mami hadn’t arrived back yet since she had to drop the girls off. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

“Not really.”

“Your Mami is going to ask, probably in a not nice way.” 

“She’ll be mad. Mad that I didn’t tell her, that I’m not strong like her.” 

“Mari, you’re strong. You’re so strong!” 

“No im not! Otherwise this wouldn’t have happened! I’m not like them, like you!” You yelled. Trying to get her to understand. “Mami and mama are world class athletes, you’re smart and pretty but I’m- I’m just me.” 

“You’re smart, you’re pretty. Sure they are world class athletes but it took them a while to get there, it doesn’t happen over night. You need to train-“

“I don’t want to train! I don’t want to play. I do it because of them Olga. Because of who they are. Everybody tells me how different I am, how I won’t be as good or amount to them. I just want to be enough!”

Olga pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly as you cried into her. Alexia could be obvious to some things, and this was clearly one of those things. 

After a while she coaxed you out of the hug, putting her hands on your cheeks and wiping away the tears, “can you tell me what he said to you? I know you, and I know you wouldn’t just hit someone for no reason.” 

“Him and his friends say stuff all the time. I don’t usually respond, and today I didn’t. I guess it just made him angrier. He said.” You took a deep breath, knowing that it would hurt Olga’s feelings as much as it hurt yours, “he said you, Mami and mama were going to hell because you were filthy lesbians, he said something else and so did all his friends. I ignored him and when I went past he pulled my ponytail. I just lost it.” 

You heard Olga have a sharp inhale of breath and then pull you towards the couch. For a while you both just sat there, Oga never letting up on the hold she had. When the front door sounded from Alexia getting home, Olga pulled you up and told you to go shower, needing to have a conversation with alexia. 

“Amor? Mari? I’m back.” Alexia kicked her shoes off, throwing her keys into the bowl. She knew a conversation was needed but to be honest, she didn’t have the energy. 

“Ale.” Olga all but threw herself into her girlfriend’s arms. 

“Woah, what happened?” 

“They say horrible things to her ale and she doesn’t even do anything.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“She told me all about it. Everything they say at football, at school, everything.” 

Alexia pulled Olga through to her room, wanting to know everything that was said. It took a while for alexia to understand why Olga was upset but once she did, she was equally upset. 

You had showered, thrown your clothes in the hamper and unpacked your bag. You looked towards your mami and Olga’s room for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. You knew what you did was wrong, incredibly wrong but after spending the last year being constantly picked on, it got to you. 

It was dark by the time they emerged from their room. Both in different clothes and with damp hair. 

“I’m going to order dinner.” Olga said as she headed toward the kitchen. 

“Marquita, I need to talk to you.” You nodded, tucking your legs into your chest, scared about the outcome of what is to come. “Olga told me what you said. Do you have anything to add?” 

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re sorry?” 

“Yeah I’m sorry. I thought, I thought I could handle it, that I was strong enough like you and mama but when he pulled my hair I just got so angry. They always say things about you and mama but this time they were talking about Olga too.”

“Olga also said you didn’t like football, why don’t you tell me? Or mama? We wouldn’t have forced you to play.” 

“Because you’re the Alexia Putellas. Imagine what people would say and think if I didn’t play.” 

“I don’t care about what people think or say, what I care about is your happiness, you aren’t happy at school or at football. I’ve spoken to your mama, we will change your school and remove you from football.” 

“Are you mad at me?” 

“No! I’m sad for you, I’m sad you didn’t tell me what was going on, I’m mad at those boys and their parents, and at the principal.” 

“I was embarrassed. You and mama are able to ignore everything negative people say and I thought I could do the same.” 

“But we can’t.” You gave her a confused look, “since the World Cup, mama has been getting extra mean comments and messages on social media, I have too but not to the same extent. It affects her, it affects me, Olga gets them too. The way we get through it is because we know they are wrong. If two girls want to love each then they can, if two boys want to they can, a boy and a girl? They can. If Jenni and I want to have a family, we can and we did. If Olga and I want too, we can. No one is allowed to tell you or anyone else who they can and can’t love.” 

“You and Olga are going to have a baby?” 

“That’s all you got out of that?” Alexia laughed, “maybe, do you want a baby brother or sister?” 

You launched yourself at your mami, “yes! Both! Twins!” 

You were grateful for Olga, the act of telling you mami what had happened seemed like a ginormous task, she made it easier. The more you thought about it, Olga made a lot of things easier. When she was home things ran smoothly, but when she was gone it was like a missing puzzle piece. 

As the night drew to a close, you had to call your mama in Mexico. Mami had already told her everything that had happened, so when you two spoke over FaceTime she promised she also wasn’t mad, when the next school holidays were on, you’d fly to Mexico and spend the week with her. 

Over the course of the winter break, you and Olga were able to spend more time together. She shared her life story, including the times as a rowdy teenager. She took you shopping for your new school uniform and even bought your first set of makeup. 

While you were sad to be leaving the friends you had made, you were glad to be in a new school, a school where you would hopefully be okay. 

[ccarlislecc]

♡ in another life pt. 1 ♡ ♡ in another life, where would you two meet? ♡ nanami kento, ijichi kiyotaka, gojo satoru, kong shiu, geto suguru, sukuna ryomen author's note: guys these are my pookie babies & I love them <3 anyways enjoy!!

nanami wouldn’t consider himself a sensitive man, but he is methodical, traditional, & good at what he does. baking is so soothing to his poor head, overwhelmed with thoughts of the future, financial stability, how on earth he’s going to work up the courage to ask out his favorite regular customer. . .you know, important, crucial things. but that all melts away when he bakes: of course, bread is his favorite, but he’s capable of nearly anything, you imagine. he knows that you have a soft spot for his sweets, so each morning he arrives at his little café so, so, so early to provide a new freshly baked good for your choosing. scones, cupcakes, croissants, cheesecake bites. . .he’s a simple man, but for you, he’s imaginative, creative, loving. 

& when he does finally ask you out, of course you’re over the moon. he’s so stoic that you really couldn’t tell whether he liked you or if he was just being polite, but he clears the air on your first date, telling, or rather showing you how serious he is about his affections. to nanami, actions have always spoken louder than words. 

kiyotaka, in his heart & soul, cannot be anything but who he is, & that is a personal assistant. some men have aspirations to run companies, prosecute criminals, create laws, scam poor people out of money, etc. but not kiyotaka. he doesn’t find it emasculating in any way, he just is a subservient guy. he’s never more comfortable than when helping someone else. he loves a checklist, a set of goals, organization, all his pens in order of favorite to least favorite, a fresh legal pad on his desk each morning, errands to run, things to do. the chaos of it is oddly soothing to him. he’s one of those people that goes stir-crazy if there isn’t something to be doing constantly. he reads, he gardens, he takes care of a cat probably (a dog is just too irresponsible of him, at least that’s what he says, really he just loves cats). 

but you teach him the joy of slowing down, relaxing. “the world isn’t going to end if you take a day off of work, kiyo.” wow, he thinks. that thought had really never occurred to him. would it really be fine? probably not, but you have him convinced. not with his preferred method of logic & reason, no he’s far too head over heels for that. all you have to do is bat your lashes & smile & he’s putty in your hands. 

attention seeker 101. the world has to know satoru somehow, if not as the best sorcerer, then surely taking his clothes off will do the trick. satoru practically invented the term striptease. he’s a natural performer. think sleek designer suits, custom-made costumes, & perfectly tailored outfits that cling to his body just right before he dramatically sheds each layer. 

he’s lazy with it, too, not really pole dancing, not really doing the routine, just prancing around on stage, showing off. puts that stupid body glitter on ‘cause he always has to pull attention from anything & everyone else. gets upset when his regular clients don’t show up & tip him. never gets fully naked, at least not for free, & not in front of all these people. but if there happened to be a pretty girl who happened to want a private show, he happened to be willing to oblige. 

shiu is too good at his job, excelling in high-stakes situations, that’s his gig. poker games for the rich & famous. he’s so calm & cool no matter the tension at the table, probably hiding a gun somewhere in the perfectly fitting suit. he takes his role seriously & always dresses impeccably, whether it's in a sleek, tailored suit or classic casino dealer attire. he can always tell when a player is bluffing, always. 

he’s not looking for a relationship, but a friends-with-benefits situation with one of the cocktail waitresses is right up his alley. that little dress you wear—if you can even call it a dress—has him uncomfortably shifting his pants. right at the table, too, so unprofessional. probably makes you double date with toji & his girl of the week, then argues with toji for hitting on you, not only when you’re on the date, but right in front of toji’s girl. 

suguru is a scuzzy man who associates with other scuzzy men in order to get his scuzzy money. on the surface, suguru is the perfect politician—charming, eloquent, seemingly dedicated to the welfare of his constituents. has a vast network of informants who gather dirt on everyone around him. he knows every weakness, every secret, & every skeleton in the closet of his political opponents. loves making those cringey commercials degrading his opponent. ultimately, he’s the dirtiest politician, he believes idealism is futile. dark money & shady business is what geto deals in. but don’t worry, he keeps you safe from all of that. 

he is a master of shifting the blame; if & when something goes wrong, it’s never his fault, except for sex scandals. . .he welcomes those, if anything. especially yours. it’s not necessarily scandalous, but he is unabashed when it hits the news. 

sukuna will kick your ass, I know you’re surprised by that because he totally doesn’t give off those vibes at all, not in the slightest. that’s why he became a bouncer at some high-end club, because he is a nice, sweet guy that doesn’t haunt your martini-infused nightmares/wet dreams. hates the fake id kids, not ‘cause they’re drinking, but because they’re so fucking stupid. 

“really? 123 tokyo street, tokyo? you’re a fucking moron, get outta here.” 

sukuna doesn’t tolerate any kind of nonsense. if a fight breaks out or someone gets too rowdy, he’s quick to step in & settle things with minimal effort, in fact, he almost likes it when fights happen, gives him something to do besides checking id’s.. his intense gaze alone often stops arguments before they escalate, but if things get physical, he can easily throw someone out without breaking a sweat. sukuna may seem like he’s always brooding or annoyed, but he enjoys the control & authority of being a bouncer. he likes being the one in charge of keeping the peace—or rather, maintaining his version of peace. it’s a power play for him, & he thrives on it.

he’s not approachable, & yet that doesn’t stop you from approaching him. he’s not as easy as you hoped he’d be though; he’s hesitant to date someone from the bar he works at. it takes him quite a bit of convincing for him to even take you on a date, but once he does, he’s hooked. 

♡ fin ♡

thank you for reading! comments, likes, & reblogs are so, so appreciated, but I love you non-interacting people, too ♡ here's my masterlist! mwah 🩷 xoxo, carlisle

[acasualcrossfade]

London Calling

Rating: M | CW: mention of sex | Words: 875

Tags: Steddie, Rockstar! Eddie, Art Dealer! Steve, Max is Steve's Daughter, Steve and Eddie

Prompt: for @steddielovemonth day 5:🎥 The Idea of You 🎥

Divider graphic by @saradika-graphics

Steve never cleared his calendar for anything other than an emergency. There was the time his daughter, Max, got sick at school, that time Max broke her leg at the park, and the one time he was sure he had food poisoning. That time he’d told his assistant, Marie, to also field any incoming calls. Yet, as Steve stared at Eddie's message on his phone, his first thought was to clear his calendar and that terrified him.

And sure enough, those words on his phone didn’t change and stared right back at him. The words were still there after he glanced up at his view of his gallery across the street from his office.

I want you in London.

Steve did his best to misinterpret the text first, thinking Eddie switched words around or meant to say something else, something other than exactly what he typed. Steve almost wanted to respond with question marks, but the words were there, clear as day. And, with the lack of follow-up messages in the last two minutes, could only mean that this was exactly the message Eddie meant to send. 

Steve wanted to say yes, but the impulse terrified him. Who was he to just get on a plane and go? He couldn’t do that. Besides, what happened that night after Coachella was a one time thing. Nothing serious. Eddie was on the road most of the time and Steve knew he couldn't just abandon the gallery to go off after some fling. He took a breath, needing clarification. He typed back.

What do you mean you want me in London?

Eddie’s instant reply came and Steve wondered if he was on the tour bus. Eddie usually had uninterrupted time as the band traveled between cities.

I want you here

Steve’s phone buzzed again.

With me

Steve blinked at the messages, his heart pounding. His office suddenly felt too warm and he leaned against his cluttered desk as the world tilted. Could he really go to London? Now?

The voice of reason nodded, reminding him it was a Friday with no meetings. And, Max had two sleepovers this weekend. She would be too tired on Sunday to do much of anything but nap. Since he kept his weekends free for Max, he didn’t have other plans, or any last minute client brunches to attend.

His impulse hummed with possibility, but still, he had one call to make. 

Another message came through from Eddie.

I’m not above begging ;)

Steve rolled his eyes as a warm shudder went through him. He remembered the sight of Eddie on his knees, begging, his eyes glassy, curls tangled. Steve's heart stuttered; there was no denying how badly he wanted it. Him. 

Again.

That part that scared him. He yearned to drop everything and go somewhere new, a luxury he’d given up when he took custody of Max. And if there was a weekend to spend with his lover, this was the best it was going to get. But there was a sinking feeling he couldn’t quite push aside. There was only one person he trusted with Max and Steve was thankful she was on speed dial. 

She picked up on the first ring.

“Dingus, hey,” Robin answered, her voice louder than the overlapping chatter in the background. “Sorry, school just got out.”

“Busy day at school?”

“Nah, this was a half day for the kids. So, what’s up?” 

Steve listened as the chatter fell away, and he imagined her moving through the school hallway to find a quieter corner.

“I need a favor,” Steve started. “Can you watch Max this weekend?”

“Yeah, where are you going?”

Steve paused. “London.”

"LONDON?!" Robin squealed. “This has to do with Lover Boy!”

Steve winced. She knew him too well. “It does not,” he denied. “There may or may not be a last minute client meeting and I’m uhm, meeting them there. In London.”

Robin mmhmm’d through the phone, a sound that carried sarcasm, skepticism, and disbelief in one breath. “Client meeting, of course,” she agreed. “You’re in luck. My weekend is completely open."

"You're a saint and I love you," Steve breathed with relief.

"Does Max need to be picked up from school?”

“Yeah, at 3. And there’s leftovers for dinner. And the menu to the good pizza place is on the fridge. And don’t forget–”

“She’s allergic to fish,” Robin finished for him. “Stevie, I know. You can check in anytime.”

“Thanks, Robbie.”

“You got it. And I expect all deets as part of my payment,” she added before hanging up.

Steve felt shaky, unsure if it was excitement or nerves or both that rattled him like this. His body zinged with apprehension and excitement at the prospect of seeing Eddie, all of Eddie, again. Finally, he typed back a message to Eddie.

Okay, I’ll come to London

Steve’s phone buzzed again and again, no doubt with Eddie’s messages of exclamation and excitement, but Steve waited to read them. There was one thing left to do.

Steve walked with purpose out of his office, passing his assistant at the front desk. She looked up in surprise, but he kept walking. 

“Marie, clear my calendar for the day and field my calls. Something just came up.”

[bubuslutty]

alt!gf x comics nerd!könig

Imagine an awkward comic book nerd König with an alt!gf way out of his league (according to him).

He works part time at a comic book store when he first meets her, he's in a corner arranging comics and manga when she walks in and his eyes widen behind his messy ginger long hair.

She's the prettiest girl he's ever fucking seen in his life and he can't take his eyes off of her. And so do the rest of the clients and workers in the shop.

She's wearing a tiny black baby tee with Miles Morales' Spider Logo on its front, the tee was tight and it looked like she didn't wear anything underneath it, and it was very short, that if she kept stretching her arms above her head too many times to reach for comics in the higher shelves, her shirt is bound to ride up to expose her nipples. Her stomach all down to a few inches below her belly button were naked, and a pair of tiny jean shorts hugged her waist and ass.

Then there was the jewelry, the chains, the arm warmers, gloves, leg warmers, mismatched socks with a pair of white and red Jordans, the headphones, hair clips and cute earrings that tied her outfit together.

She looked like a doll, like those pretty girls you'd see on Pinterest (König doesn't know that, though, bold of you to assume he uses Pinterest).

And König? Well, he was wearing a green t-shirt with the store's logo on the back and front, with a white long sleeved shirt under it, paired with a pair of loose ripped jeans and we'll worn white trainers. And finally, a black mask covering the lower half of his face.

She walked straight to the Marvel shelf, looking around with her hands crossed over her chest while humming until she gasped and got her hands on a comic with Spiderman 2099 plastered on the cover.

König tried his best to stop staring like a creep but she was just so hypnotising, he wanted to keep looking at her, maybe ask her name, what she likes to read–

Don't get ahead of yourself, König, have you seen her and seen yourself?

König's shoulders slumped as he watched her flip through the comic with a smile on her glossy lips, and his heart jumped when she met his eyes.

Shit.

König internally panicked and turned his head towards the shelf he was organizing and adding in new comics to be sold while his heart beat quickly in his chest. He gulped and his hand trembled when he heard shuffling and footsteps getting louder towards him over the sound of some random anime opening from the speakers in the shop.

"Excuse me?"

König tried not to flinch and slowly turned around and looked down at the owner of the voice, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face when he was face to face with the same girl he was gawking at.

"Yes?" König replied, masking his nervousness with a monotone voice.

"Can you get me a comic from the top shelf? I can't reach.." She asked, looking him over not so subtly and tilted her head to the side, adding a small, "Please?" at the end of her sentence.

"Where?" König asked and her eyes lit up. She turned around and led him straight to the shelf and told him the comic she was after as König easily reached for it and handed it over.

"Thank you," She smiled and took the comic from his bigger hand, their hands brushing as he kept watching her through his hair.

"Do you read marvel comics?" She asked and König was surprised, what is she doing?

Making conversation with him?

But girls usually got intimidated by his build and his personality.

König cleared his throat and shoved both of his hands in the pockets of his loose ripped jeans, "Sometimes."

"Do you have a character you like reading about? You don't have to answer if you have work to do, by the way! I'm just curious and want to read more comics about different characters!" She said, toying with the Lego spiderman keychain hanging off her belt hoop, pulling her shorts a bit lower and König looked away when more of her lacey red panties were visible.

"No it's alright. I have time. I like reading about Venom and Moon Knight. And you? Who do you like reading about?..." König answered, his voice not wavering, not even once even if he was screaming in his head.

He hopes he won't scare her away due to the lack of emotion and interest in his voice, but he was internally nervous and that's the only way he knows how to hide it.

But it seemed like the pretty girl wasn't phased nor intimidated by König's tone of voice, or how he literally covered her in his shadow.

"I really like Moon Knight! And Venom too! But obviously, Miles Morales' Spiderman is my favourite…" She excitedly told him and pointed at her chest, where Miles' graffiti Logo was.

"What's your name, by the way?" She quickly asked, and König was a bit overwhelmed.

"König." He answered without thinking and blinking, staring at her with his pale blue eyes.

"Hey, König." She giggled and told him her name as she hugged the comics to her chest.

König didn't know what to say except give her an awkward nod.

"Nice to meet you. I'll go pay for these. And uh, thanks for the help." She said, biting her lower lip and fluttering her pretty eyelashes at him.

"No worries." He said and stepped aside so she could make her way to the till.

König was left buzzing and slightly breathless, he blinked and turned around to face a shelf with Batman runs to compose himself while she paid for her comics. Then he felt a small tap on his back and turned around.

"Sorry I just wanted to give you this." She said while holding a hair band in her hand.

König stared down at her hand without saying anything then back up at her face.

"It's for your hair…" She said in a small voice and König didn't say anything, just stared at her.

Then she coughed, "I just thought– I'm so sorry for overstepping, I'll go now."

König moved without thinking and held her wrist, making her eyes widen like a deer caught in the headlight.

"Thanks." He said and took the hairband, making quick work of tying his hair in a manbun, and now she could see more of his face, his pale eyes, eyebrows, freckles and small scars.

She smiled a bit and gave him a nod, "Bye, now."

"Bye." König said, smiling behind his mask.

[jisunghannie]

Save Me Now

PAIRING: Hyunjin x fem!reader

WARNINGS: Hyunjin being “toxic”, sweet apologies, pet names, unprotected sex, mentions of cheating Hyunjin, Felix is your cousin!, confessions

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend of 1 and a half years has been acting differently lately and you aren't sure why. But you know it's definitely due to a weird reason. When you found what it was, you were heartbroken only for him to pick back up the pieces. Or does he?

WORD COUNT: 3,087

A/N:

Gahh, sorry this took so long!! I was on the heaviest writer's block along with getting sick back to back. Hopefully, this will make up for it!

This is not proofread! You can get sneak peeks of that piece and other pieces of my works on @mr-hanjisung ! Also, apologies if there are grammar mistakes or anything, I hope you guys enjoy this piece!

“Did you ever get the girl who owed you debt?” You asked as he shook his head. “Funny story, Chan covered her expenses because that's his new fiancée.” He said as you laughed. “Imagine having your client as your boss's wife. That's actually so funny.” You laughed as Hyunjin nodded. “So funny indeed.” He said sarcastically as you kissed his cheek.

“I'm gonna go see if anyone else needs help, okay Jin?” You said as he just nodded. “Okay, love you.” You told him, giggling. “Me too.” He said, waving his hand to you as you left.

You felt, awkward. You and Hyunjin had been dating for 1 and a half years already. Yet he still couldn't bring himself to say, ‘I love you’ back. You didn't feel hurt by it, just wishing that he would return the words.

As you left for your work which was more “civilized”. He continued doing his own thing. You were working as your best friend walked in and gave you a big squeeze. She knew about Hyunjin, well, she knew about your boyfriend, but you never told her his name or what he did. That’s why she is skeptical but she trusts you.

“So when can I meet your mystery man?” She asked as you laughed. “We’ve been dating for a year and a half already, you know?” You reminded her as she pouted, “Exactly, a year and half and I’ve never even met the guy. I hardly know anything about him.” She said as she then gave you a serious look. “Have you guys even said the, you know, the L word?” She asked as you shook your head. “I have but him, not yet, but then again I’m his first girlfriend.” You told her as your best friend frowned. “He’s your first boyfriend too, don't forget.” She reminded you as you nodded. “I know don’t worry.” You told her as a couple came in and you served them.

You were a server and or waitress at a famous restaurant. Unfortunately, you then saw that, that couple was none other than your boyfriend and another woman.

You frowned but shook your head then immediately smiled. “Hi, welcome in. My name is y/n and I’ll be your server today.” You told them, giving your boyfriend a dirty look as he blew you a kiss. The woman he was with smacked his arm as he jerked lightly. “Yes, we'll take a table for two.” She said, her voice delicate and sweet. You nodded and led them to a table as you handed them menus. “Let me know what I can get you and call me over when you are ready.” You said as he chuckled.

You walked back as you didn't understand what was going on. You were so gonna-

“-kill him! I'm gonna kill him when we get home!” You shouted in the worker's lounge with your best friend as you sat on the couch, huffing and puffing. You were angry, which was normal. Your friend, Lily, walked over and patted you on the back. “There, there, it's okay.” She told you, “He's nothing but a lying cheat. I knew he was no good.” She said, sounding like your mother. “What's his name?” She asked as you shook your head, “It doesn't matter.” You told her as she insisted. “Are you gonna break up with him?” She asked, but before you could answer, she bombarded you with questions.

“Where are you gonna live?”

“I-”

“Are you still going to be able to work here?”

“Lily-”

“What does he do for a living?”

“Lily I-”

“How are you going to break up with him? Maybe-”

“Yang Dahee!” You shouted.

That shut her up. She knows you only use her Korean name when you are really upset. “Yes, I'm listening eomma.” She teased. “I'll deal with it.” You replied as she nodded. “If you guys end up breaking up and need somewhere to stay, call me.” She said as you nodded, walking back out to serve Hyunjin and the mysterious lady.

“Are you ready to order?” You asked as the lady giggled and looked at Hyunjin as he looked up to meet your eyes. “I'll take my usual.” He said as you gave him a fake smile as you looked at his mistress. “And for the lady?” You asked as she looked up at you, “I'll have what he's having.” She replied as you nodded and walked off, your smile faltering.

Something she didn't know was that you made his usual so if she made it to perfection and handed it to them she would've lost. But she knew better to deny service to an innocent woman when it was Hyunjin at fault. As you went into the break room, you were on your phone as you got a text from Hyunjin.

Jinnie <3: Are you jealous?

y/nnie: Of course I am!

Jinnie <3: Sorry, I had no choice. I'm marrying her due to business contracts.

y/nnie: What about me?

Jinnie <3: You are and always will be my girlfriend. My lover. My number 1.

y/nnie: Then why are you marrying her?

Jinnie <3: I'll explain when we both are home okay?

y/nnie: Why not now Hyunjin?

You were crying now for sure. Tears ran down your face as you waited for his response.

Once you finished his meal, you opened your phone.

Jinnie <3: Because it's better to talk in person about this.

You left him on seen as you wiped your face and walked out to face him. “Here are your meals.” You said as he ate and fed the woman. She got all the treatment you wanted. It wasn't fair.

“I'm sorry, I need some fresh air.” The woman said as she walked outside as he motioned for you to sit but you turned your heel to walk away as he grabbed your wrist. “Why are you running away? Aren't you gonna fight for your spot?” He asked as you flicked his arm away. “Go be happy with your fiancée. I'll get my things tonight.” You told him as he gripped your wrist tighter. “I have an event I need you to attend. Once you're there you'll understand why I have to marry her. Understood?” He said, his voice laced with danger as you nodded silently. He then kissed your cheek. “Good girl.” He said as he released you.

You walked away from him, rubbing your wrist. You sighed and wondered how you even ended up liking him. But you couldn't help the fact that you would meet him one way or another. You were Felix's cousin after all. Once Felix owed debt, Han kidnapped you all for his induction. Once he succeeded you were taken to convince Felix to join. Now it made sense why he was able to buy you such an expensive gift for your birthday.

In exchange for your life being spared, Felix had to work for them. He regretted what he did but he told you that he’d be lying if he told you that he didn't enjoy doing what he does.

After your shift, Hyunjin texted you to go home and wear the dress, bag, and heels he had bought you. You frowned, still mad at him of course. You then took a deep breath in and out as you got dressed. As you did your hair and makeup. The minute you finished, Hyunjin knocked against the door frame. You glared at him as he walked over to you.

“I knew that dress would look good on you.” He said as you sighed. “Hurry up, let's go.” You said as you walked right past him, to the car. You sat next to your cousin as he chuckled. “Let me guess. Hyunjin pissed you off.” Felix assumed as you laughed, smacking his shoulder lightly. “Is it that obvious?” You asked as Felix nodded. You then laughed as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “Good. Let him know.” You said as Felix leaned in to your ear. “To be honest, I don't think you're gonna like the event we are going to.” He whispered as he continued, “It's literally Hyunjin's engagement party.” Felix finished as he pulled away.

You looked horrified as Hyunjin saw your face across from the limo. He immediately texted you.

Jinnie <3: You okay?

y/nnie: I'm fine

Jinnie <3: Are you sure? You look like Felix just told you that someone died

y/nnie: I said I'm fine Jin.

Jinnie <3: If you say you are then I believe you

y/nnie: Thank you

But it was still eating you up inside. You didn't understand why it was but when you guys walked in, Hyunjin walked over to the mysterious woman who was at the cafe with him. He then linked arms with her as they walked in. You took a deep breath and exhaled trying to calm yourself.

Felix knew what was wrong as he massaged your shoulder lightly. “I know it hurts but you should've known. He's rich behind his loan sharks business. He's only doing this so we have more connections through his family though. Once he inherits everything he'll divorce her.” Felix whispered as you wiped your teary eyes. “What if she gets pregnant by then…” You said, really thinking the worst as Felix sighed. “If you really do love him and trust him, you would believe in him.” He said as you nodded.

As you guys went through the night, you saw him feeding her and holding her dress from dragging, he was holding her close and whispering sweet nothings in her ears. Then, he kissed her. You couldn't believe your eyes. You couldn't take it anymore so you left. You just walked out of the estate and went back to your shared home with Hyunjin. You then cried on the couch.

After an hour, Hyunjin came home, his lips smeared in lipstick. You scoffed as you packed your things. He ran over to you and grabbed your wrist. “What the hell are you doing!?” He said, his voice raised. “I can't handle this Hyunjin! I can't see you with another woman even if it's not real love!” You shouted as you tried to resist, his face furrowed. “Just stop and listen to me!” He said as you stopped resisting. “You have 3 minutes.” You said blatantly as you both sat. “Listen, I know it hurts to see but I assure you that I only have space for you in my heart and nobody else.” He said as you scoffed. “Don't give me that bullshit.” You said as he stuttered, trying to find the right words. “Exactly.” You said.

You then took off your heels and grabbed your bag that he had bought for you and threw them at him. “Keep your stupid heels and bag for your fiancée. I don't need your stupid gifts.” You told him as he smirked, “That dress is a gift of mine as well.” He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't know how to respond, but before you could turn around he snaked his arms around your waist. “So take it off.” He said bluntly as your face was now flushed. “Go ahead…” He whispered in your ear. “Strip it off…” He whispered as you bit your lip.

You knew that you shouldn't give in. But with Hyunjin saying that, you felt weak to your knees. You didn't know what to think. “Jin… I-” He stopped you and hushed you as he tugged on the string of your dress lightly. “Take it off or I will for you.” He huskily said. You don't know what happened or how it even got to this point but he was on top of you, his collar shirt unbuttoned and his tie on the floor now. Your dress was completely off. Let's just say, at least now you knew his goal wasn't to get back the dress.

“You must seduce all your women with your words…” You whispered quietly as his lips barely grazed yours. His lips now smeared in your lipstick. “Don't give me that. You know you love me.” He whispered as he pulled you in for another kiss. You waited for this moment for a while. Sure, you guys had showered together before but nothing to this extent. “Hwang Hyunjin.” You spat at him as he sighed. “I'm sorry for hurting you… really… but I promise nothing will change my feelings for you… I love you and only you. That I can promise you.” He said.

Wait, were you hearing things… “What did you say Jin?” You asked. “That I can promise you?” He answered.

“No, before that…”

“Nothing can change my feelings for you?”

“No after that.”

“That I can promise you?”

“No!”

He then chuckled lightly as he kissed you again. “I love you and only you.” He repeated as you gave him a happy gentle smile, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, wiping your tears. “I'm just really happy… I've waited so long to hear you say those words…” You said as he kissed your cheek chuckling. “I'll say it as many times as you want as long as you stay with me.” He said as you nodded, pulling him closer to you, your bodies touching, skin to skin. His breath hitched as he composed himself. “Where were we?” He asked, running his hands through his hair. You bashfully smiled as you covered yourself lightly with your hands.

He then smirked as he ran his fingers against your inner thighs. “So you've been waiting for this or I assume?” He asked as you nodded. “How cute…” He said as he kissed your inner thighs. “I'll leave my mark on you good.” He said as you stayed silent. He then moved your hand, covering your breasts. “I've seen your whole body baby… no need to hide it anymore.” He whispered against your inner thigh. “I know you get off to me seeing you naked.” He said as he chuckled.

“No I don't…” You replied, squeezing his shoulders as he kissed your clit gently. “It’s okay baby… you are so cute when you squeeze me like that…” He said as he hovered over you. “You seem wet enough.” He said rubbing his fingertips against your wet folds. You then looked away, feeling embarrassed. He then kissed and bit at your earlobe gently. “Can I put it in… please..?” He pleaded in your ear. His voice husky and low but whiny as you gave in and nodded gently. You could feel him smile against your ear.

You then felt his cock smack against your stomach. You then looked down and blushed, realizing just how big he really was. “Will it even fit?” You asked as Hyunjin shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.” He said as he aligned himself against you. Your breath hitched as you felt the tip hit your entrance. “Make sure to loosen up.” He told you, he then placed your hands on his shoulders as he looked at you reassuringly. “You ready?” He asked as you nodded. He then pushed himself inside as you just gasped, not knowing what to really say.

“You're so tight…” Hyunjin said as you dug your nails into his shoulders. “Jin…” You squirmed out as he gave a gasp. “Don't clamp…” He said, massaging small circles on your stomach. “You're doing so good…” He whispered as his long hair covered half of his face. You pushed the hair out of his face as you nodded. “I'm ready…” You whispered back as he kissed your forehead, beginning to move slowly.

“Jinnie…” You moaned out as he held onto your hips. “Shh… I know… you're doing so good…” He hushed as you kept moaning. He then began to speed up as you looked down to see how it looked. God, you didn't realize that you had been holding back on such a good feeling. “Hey, my eyes are up here.” He said squeezing your hips, causing you to look up. “There are your pretty eyes, enjoying the… hah… view..?” He groaned out as you nodded. “You're lucky that I gave you that dress… but I knew you looked better without it…” He said as you nodded.

After a while he then shifted and did deep and slow thrusts. “Jinnie…” You moaned out. With how slow he went, you felt every little part of his cock inside you. You felt how big he was and how he reached in every-

“Right there..!” You moaned out grabbing the sheets as he smirked. “What's right there hmm?” He teased. “Jinnie… stop being mean…” You whined as he chuckled. “Honest, honest, what do you need there..?” He asked, still obviously teasing. “It feels good…” You told him as he smirked. “What feels good?” He teased, still hitting your g-spot. “The way you hit that spot…” You whined as he traced his fingers on your stomach still slowly moving inside. “What spot?” He asked, feigning innocence. You whined as he just laughed at you. “Fine, how do you want it baby?” He asked as you pulled him close. “I don't care, just hurry up…” You said as he smirked, ramming into you at such speed.

“My abilities as a dancer help a lot, you know…” He groaned out. He then felt you tighten up around him as you moaned out in ecstasy that he had to kiss you to quiet you down. “Shh…” He hushed as you giggled. “God, you're cock drunk.” He said as you nodded, tracing your fingers on his chest. He chuckled as he pulled out and came on your stomach. “I swear. You are crazy for that being your first time.” He said as you nodded. “It's not that impressive.” You replied as he ruffled your hair and you pushed him. He got back up and took you to the bathroom. “Let's wash up and go to sleep.” He said as you nodded.

After a long bath together, you guys got ready for bed. “Oh please, you almost fell asleep because I was massaging the shampoo in your hair so good.” You said as he continued to deny it. “No, you were so embarrassed because I had to clean you up because you were too tired.” He said as you gasped, faking hurt feelings as he laughed and shoved you lightly. “I love you.” He said as you smiled, “I love you too.”

Taglist:

@annybah @softkisshyunjin @queenmea604 @hyunmikim @stayceebs97 @boi-bi-ahaha @lilinaskzz @cookiesandcreammy

[princessbrunette]

popes new gig as a driving instructor was meant to be easy money. he was a good, safe driver — and you were his first ever client. but from the smile you’d given him, all glittery and pink as you bounce over to his car and lean over to his driver seat window to greet him, giving him a direct look down your cleavage — he knew you’d do more than learn driving from him.

you preened under his praise everytime. it was distracting. he was trying to teach you how to safely drive, but everytime he’d let “you’re doing really good, keep going.” or a simple “good job.” leave his mouth you’d nearly swerve off the road. his subtle tips and adjustments would be met with flirtation, and giggly “yes sir”s to the point where he’d forget the rules of the road in an instant.

this went on for weeks, and due to his best friend jj’s constant lecturing regarding; ‘dude, you’ve got a hot ass girl in your car, practically begging for the D — you’re telling me you haven’t swooped on that yet? do better, man.’ pope decided enough was enough. this was either going to fix his problem, or make things really awkward— but it was a risk he was willing to take.

“pull up right here, in this parking lot.” he’d been extra tense that day, rather quiet the entire lesson with a stiff jaw and eyes hung low. you figured he’d been in a bad mood, and even went easy on your usual routine of finding reasons to touch his bicep at each stop light and flirting with him. you did as he said, pulling into the empty lot and finding a space somewhere in some dark corner where it would be easy for you to park.

without the humming of the engine filling the silence now, you turn and look at him in the dim lighting. pope often had two ways of going about things with women — either ultra nervous, or ultra to the point. with you, he’d started off a nervous wreck — practically jizzing in his pants every time you’d graze your manicure against his arm for the first few lessons, but due to the constant teasing he’d been driven to being directly upfront with you.

“look, i can’t take all this teasing anymore.” he stresses, brows creased. your giggly smile drops a little bit, seemingly switching on the innocent act. “every week, you hint and hint that you’re tryna get into something with me— and then at the end of the lesson, you just get out and walk away like it never happened.” he sighs hard, and you have to admit it’s rather cute.

“i’m sorry…” your brows knit together, guilt evident in your expression.

“and that’s fine — i would never pressure you to do anything like that, and believe me — i know this is completely unprofessional to be proposing on the job, and yeah — this could get me fired,” he rambles, working himself up. “but look, i’m a man okay? i am biologically programmed to have a bodily reaction to girls like you who can’t stop touching on me and being all adorable and sexy. that being said — if you wanna fuck, let’s just get it out the way, right here right now— and if not, we can drive you home, and never talk of this again. but you gotta stop acting like that, ‘cause i’m in pain.” he finishes up with his rant, sucking in a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding the entire time. you stare at pope. pope stares back.

“oh fuck, oh pope!” you mewl into his neck as the car jostles violently from the backseat beneath the dim lighting on the parking lot. you’re naked from the waist down, and his shorts sit pooled around his ankles as you bounce on his cock, dick impaled through you. “s—so big, just like i imagined!”

“you imagined?” he pants, two hands planted on your waist as he helps you fuck down on his lap, staring up at you hopefully as he lifts his hips to meet your movements.

“every night! pictured you punishing me for bein’ such a tease!” you cry out in admission, halting the bouncing technique to roll your hips instead, the two of you groaning at the sensation.

“jesus, okay… well, i can definitely make that happen. you for sure deserve to be punished.” he babbles, pulling you closer — his eyes fluttering shut as you grind on him.

“are you g’nna punish me pope? for teasin’ you in our lessons?” your voice cracks desperately as you feel him repeatedly jutting against your g-spot, making your legs shake around him.

“yes. totally. i’ll punish you real good.” he spits out. it had been a while since he’d got his dick wet, especially from such a perfect princess — so all his concentration was going into making sure he didn’t bust right there and then. he simply agreed without thinking, he probably would have agreed to anything in that moment.

[yanaleese]

hear me out... Karma with a silly incubus/succubus MC? :) but MC doesn't drain Karma of his energy/life when they get freaky

Ok so first of all i attempted to a gender neutral MC here. However the first one looked a little too fem so I did a more masculine look to balance things out! I also don't mean to offend anyone here!

But let's get back to brainstorming together!!! <3333

SO FIRST OF ALL - VERY WHOLESOME. They'd be super cute together!!!

Incubus/Succubus! MC in Karma's world would have a hard time facing discrimination since they're seen as promiscuous, flirtatious, manipulative, dangerous, and useless. Not even werewolves get such bullying and/or harassment compared to these type of demons. It's even worse if sucubi/incubi do not fit the beauty type displayed. I honestly see this MC having a lot of challenges just being themselves, that they put on multiple facades.

Therefore, this MC would be distant upon first interaction, and distrustful of others. I can imagine multiple types of Incubus/Succubus! MCs:

(1) A sly, ‘mean’ MC within the sex industry. Their main job would be (but not limited to) helping wives test their husbands without making them suspicious. But little did the wives know, MCs getting extra money thanks sleeping with these cheaters. When the cheaters are then caught red-handed, MC would taunt them and be like “Oh my gosh? Really? You had a husband???” In the fakest way possible. They enjoy serving karma (👀), since MC couldn’t serve karma due to the abuse and injustice they got growing up. I imagine them meeting Karma when he becomes the new boss of MC’s company, replacing their actually kind, caring boss and best friend they loved to have company with.

While yes, it is a desperate move, he knows it will be worth it. After all, why would vampires, who are welcomed into society - stoop so low for sex work? That would enrage that MC that they’ll look for any and every good reason to tear Karma; cue the haters to lovers arc (lol).

(2) A ‘play dumb’, approachable MC. This MC would use their bright smile in the day doing odd jobs, and use their sex appeal in nightclubs, hostess clubs, strip clubs. As a result, MC either has serious networking or serious drama underneath their belt. To not catch unwanted attention, MC would act like an airhead, cutesy, or just plain innocent like 😇🥺🥹😜🥸🫢. Karma and MC’s first interaction would happen if MC gets framed, blackmailed, and just anything that puts them in danger lol, so basically the Superman option. The other option is the “casual client” scenario, where Karma’s always been their client on the day or night side, until something goes to shit LMAO

(3) The most interesting one here is Incubus/Succubus! MC meeting Dark! Karma. Maybe Karma went on a trip overseas, saw you and boom. Hooked. After that, he does his best to meet you, but under the pretense of keeping your affair a secret with NO sex involved. Realizing you’ve hit jackpot, you think life will be easy. But note that, sometimes the biggest diamond requires the biggest risks - and maaaaaybe that risk will cost your freedom and sanity.

There are so many ideas to come out of this; so feel free to choose which route you wanna go, Anon!!!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hey I was wondering if you have any plans or mini ideas on the bnha cyber au. Last post was a while ago and was curious if you're still interested in the au.

Mustofelese Rope Thoughts | Yandere BNHA

Reference to this post

Oh do I! 

It’s been so long but it was going to be a tug of war among all the different people you come across in this cyber world

In your home you’d have your roommate and friend Bakugo who is just waiting for you to realize he isn’t the kind of guy to build a house for just anybody

If that wasn’t worse he’s not even going to mention the two arficials he can’t imagine life without

Which are Kirishima the house AI and the retro android Izuku 

The latter is a living mystery, that may or may not harness the consciousness of a former human being

Either way he’s devoted to his morals of justice and protection of you and Katsuki 

Heavily relying on Katsuki for the latest add-ons and adjustments

You and katsuki suspect he’s a prototype of some kind, weirdly advanced and with so much potential 

That’s why you both have made an effort to keep his existence secret

Which may explain why he has such a hard time ever leaving either of your side

Kirishima similarly is mean to focus on those within reach 

His whole body is the innerworkings of the house so everyone who goes to rest there is in his care

And boy does he care 

Unlike Izuku he never has a set down time 

So he’s free to constantly mull over the same facts and footage he has of the occupants in the house

Should any of you return home injured from the outside world you can forget ever leaving again

Shouto is someone you meet while on a job

The most recent and best creation the Endeavor Tech giant can create he’s always offering his creator’s wares to see a smile on your face

Due to the similarity of his existence you’ll let him meet Izuku 

of course the two hit it off 

He becomes a good friend to you two 

such good friends it’s not immediately clear that he’d like to lock you both away 

Far away from his greedy father, the violent underbelly of the city, and that ‘selffish’ roommate of yours

And Shigaraki Tomura, a dealer for coveted parts and the best mechanic known to the underground

He’s also your employer

He delights in your visits and pleas for old parts, before sending you out to help a client

But just because he sends you away everyday doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you to stay

You really won’t find out how many times he’s hired his contacts to abduct you for him until it’s too late

Your job specifically is about building things and helping deliver unapproved inventions

Which is where you’ll meet most of your clients, who just can’t let get enough of you

But that was some of the plan with the cyber universe 

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader | Teaser!

#NSFW in full, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is a performer, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), teaser not edited lmao

Note: This is just going to be a one-shot since it's already pretty much completed, just need to finish off the tail end and then go back and edit. Wanted a break from writing the other stories for a bit, so I hope you'll enjoy the full story when it's out

tags: @better-imagination-9 @better-imagination-9

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the beat up, rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and  you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed Words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. Thw fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised With a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

[archangeldyke-all]

idk why i didn’t think of this sooner but bodyguard!Sevika 👀

her being overly protective, saying it’s bc of “her job” when it’s really bc she has a fat crush on her beautiful, celebrity client and doesn’t want anyone to lay a finger on her girl 😩

this is SO cute like SOOOO cute omg

men and minors dni

sevika's the best body guard you've had. and you've had plenty.

she isn't afraid to push people around when they're crowding you, and she isn't afraid to get in a fight or two.

she's always got a protective hand on the small of your back as she escorts you to and from appearances-- a comfort you've grown accustomed to.

in the mornings she picks you up from your home or whatever hotel room you're staying in, always prepared for you with a warm drink just the way you like it.

she's always got snacks tucked away in her pockets that she shoves into your hands when you've gone too long without eating, in between interviews and meetings.

she's not afraid to step in when journalists and interviewers get too comfortable or run on too long. inappropriate questions are often lobbed at you, about your personal life, your love life and your appearance, and each time sevika's there to witness them, she'll glare at the reporter until they take the question back or move on.

she's always ready for any problem you might face. raining? sevika's opening an umbrella over your head already. randomly got your period? she's subtly passing you a pad or tampon, then two painkillers and some water. tired? sevika's already wrapping her strong arm around you to let you sleep against her chest during the car rides to and from gigs.

she's been by your side as your personal guard for a year now, and you've never been happier. there's just one thing.

you've kinda got a crush on her.

how could you not? she's protective of you, kind to strangers, strong and beautiful and always touching you.

it's starting to drive you a bit crazy.

last week, she was hanging out in your house while you got ready for a red carpet, helping you lace up various dresses and clasp necklaces as you picked your outfit, looking handsome as hell in her all black suit.

there was a moment, as you were applying your makeup and she was fiddling with your television, where this wave of clarity washed over you. you watched in the mirror as behind you sevika huffed at the screen and mashed buttons on the remote, and you thought, 'oh. i think i want her here with me forever.'

three nights ago, she was dropping you off at home after you hosted the opening night of a new club, slightly sweaty, black buttonup shirt unbuttoned low enough you can see a little bit of her cleavage, hair slicked back, lips and eyes painted black, a smile on her lips and her hands on your hips to steady your drunken stumbling; and when you got to the door you could've fucking sworn she was about to kiss you goodnight. she was staring at your lips, licking her own, slowly leaning in, and you smiled. she froze, blinked, then pulled away.

"don't forget to lock your doors." she said. she's been saying it to you every night since she was hired. you rolled your eyes.

"text me when you're home safe, sev." you replied like you always do. she huffed as she began stumbling backwards so she could keep her eyes on you as she crossed your front yard.

"i'm a bodyguard for fuck's sake!" she said, exasperated.

she still texted you a 'home.' twenty minutes later.

you couldn't sleep that night, replaying the moment over and over again, butterflies in your stomach keeping you tossing and turning all night.

and then, the next time you saw her (last night) you decided to turn the charm on a bit, see if you were just delusional and drunkenly imagining things or if maybe the feelings you were having for sevika were... mutual.

you were at a gala, sevika sitting next to you in a tux as ballroom music played. you gulped down the last dregs of your drink and turned to her. "let's go outside." you whispered in her ear. she smiled, and followed you out to the empty smoking balcony.

sevika covered your exposed shoulders with her jacket before you could even shiver, then pulled a cigarette and lighter from her back pocket. you laughed, then pulled a joint from your cleavage, waggling your eyebrows at her. she chuckled.

you snatched the lighter from her hands and lit up as sevika tucked her cigarette away. you took a long puff and passed it over to her. she grinned, and took a drag.

when the joint was gone, you turned to her. "i've got kinda a stupid question but..."

"go ahead." she said with a chuckle.

"okay. but you have to be honest, promise?" you asked. she nodded. you took a deep breath, then whispered, "were you gonna kiss me the other night?"

sevika blinked. "i... don't know what you're talking about." she said.

you blinked, nodded, then went back inside.

neither of you talked the rest of the night.

and now things are weird.

you haven't heard from sevika. you haven't had anything scheduled, so there's no need for you to hear from sevika, but still. you can't remember the last time you'd gone more than 6 hours without a text or call. just to check in.

it's only now that you've gone so long without talking to her that you're starting to realize just how much she's become for you this past year. shit. you really need to give sevika a raise.

you've spent the day in bed, wallowing in self pity and heartbreak. your pajamas are wrinkled, your eyes are puffy from crying, and you're laying in a pile of crumbs from the cookies you've been munching on all day.

your doorbell rings. you freeze, mid munch on your cookie. there's only ten or so people who know the code to the gate around your property, who can get close enough to ring the actual doorbell.

you scramble out of bed pulling a robe on over your pajamas and running toward your front door. is it your mom? your manager? you tug open the door.

it's sevika.

you blink. "hi." you say. "do i have something today?" you ask. she shakes her head no.

"no, i--"

"i think i should give you a raise." you blurt. sevika blinks.

"what?"

you shrug. "do you wanna come in?" you ask. sevika shakes her head no. you freeze. "...okay?"

"here." she says, shoving flowers into your grip. you look down at them, a bouquet of your favorite colors. "i lied to you." she whispers.

"...about what?"

"i did want to kiss you. i'm sorry. if you want me to resign..."

"what!?" you shout. "why would i want you to resign?" you ask. sevika blinks up at you and shrugs.

"i have feelings for you. it's unprofessional." she says.

you laugh. sevika cringes, like you're laughing at her. you reach out and grab her hand before she can spiral.

"i have feelings for you too. i was really hopin' you were gonna kiss me. i spent all day in bed today 'cause you said you didn't want to. it's beyond unprofessional." you admit. sevika's jaw drops. "i don't want you to quit. i was serious about the raise. i just wanna say that before i kiss you so it's not, like, nepotism or something." sevika blinks at you. "is that okay?" you ask. she nods. you grin.

her arms have always inticed you, the steady way they guide you through crowds, the powerful way they push and beat off people who try to get near you, the way they fill out her blazers and button ups. but your new favorite, by a mile, is the gentle way they wrap around your body to hold you closer to her as you kiss.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights

[cryoculus]

— imagine being loved by me! ⟢

pairing: xiao | alatus x reader

summary: the one where your best friend gives you ten tattoos over the next ten years. the problem? you fall deeper in love each time the ink stains your skin.

word count: 7.1k words

tags: modern au, tattoo artist!xiao, childhood friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, relationship study, non-explicit smut

warnings: emotionally stunted xiao but i fink everyone knows that already, mentions of needles, there's smut but it isn't detailed

notes: this blog's been dead for Months but i thought i'd revive it with this fic that my beloved @delvalentine commissioned me to make! i love u to DEATH, v, i hope i did your requests justice :')

header art cr: yuca7302 on twt

01.

“Ow, fuck! Can you be more careful?!”

“I am careful. You just have a shitty pain tolerance.”

“Wow, that’s not something you should say to your first willing client,” you huff, trying not to pull away as Xiao repeatedly punctures the skin of your forearm with pen ink and a not-so-sterile sewing needle. “My family could sue you if I die from a blood infection, you know.”

Xiao rolls his eyes. “Something this small won’t kill anyone. Plus, you came here on your own volition, so stop complaining.”

“Are you saying you’re just going to let me die of sepsis if everything goes to shit?”

“Pretty much.”

You didn’t know what to expect when your best friend of several years asked if you wanted a tattoo of your favorite constellation. It’s been a running joke between the both of you that the two moles on your forearm looked a lot like two-thirds of Orion’s belt, and that maybe, in another life, you would’ve been born with all three of its stars on your skin. 

You should’ve known that Xiao likes to blow your expectations out of the water—whether he intends to do so or not.

It’s sundown when he finishes embedding black pen ink beneath your slightly inflamed skin. Xiao doesn’t comment when you repeatedly complain about how much that fucking hurt, and that you’re never agreeing to do it again, but you don’t miss the way his eyes occasionally flit up to the starry sky before shifting to your new ‘tattoo’ as he walks you home.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget that night. How you admired the amateur handiwork in the soft glow of your nightlight while thinking about the boy who gave you a star fashioned with his own fingers where others would’ve given flowers instead.

But then you remember Xiao is nothing but your best friend, and it’s a little…weird to be thinking about him like that. 

Must be the sepsis fucking with my head, you muse before flicking off your nightlight, and the room is plunged into pitch black darkness. 

02. 

You’re eighteen when you realize Xiao is completely serious about this tattooing business.

It comes as a not-so-pleasant surprise to you one day when your high school’s guidance counselor approaches you while you’re hurrying over to your next class—asking if you’ve seen Xiao around these days because apparently, your best friend hasn’t been attending his classes for a better part of the semester. 

Of course, you receive the news with a scowl. While you don’t exactly see him all that much at school because of how different your schedules are, you never expected to find out he’s been playing hooky all this time. 

You don’t particularly like sticking your nose into other people’s business—especially not Xiao’s, since you know how he likes to keep to himself better than most. But for some reason, you aren’t able to resist, and end up calling him after excusing yourself from your two-hour Biology lecture. 

Once your classes are done, you head over to a nearby tattoo parlor whose address Xiao texted to you right after you squeezed his whereabouts out of him during that phone call. It’s located in one of the more run-down parts of town that your parents would’ve detested Xiao for inviting you to. But whatever prejudice you might’ve had about the denizens of this district all go up in smoke once you meet the owner herself.

“You should’a seen Xiao practicing with our machines a few months ago!” Beidou, as Xiao had sheepishly introduced earlier, barks out a laugh before slinging an arm around your best friend’s shoulders. “Said there’s someone he wanted to give permanent tatts to. I’m guessing you’re the guest of honor?”

“Beidou,” Xiao groans. “It’s not a big deal. I already practiced on her before.”

You don’t completely catch it when Beidou makes an inappropriate joke as a response to what Xiao just said—eyes trained on the fading dot on your forearm. It’s been two years since Xiao gave you your first ‘tattoo’, and even if the receding ink makes it look like one of Orion’s stars are starting to die out, it’s still there.

“Okay,” you say in the middle of their bickering, startling both Xiao and Beidou in the process. “I’ll let him ink me if he wants to.”

Xiao stares at you with brows furrowed. “You sure?”

No, you’re not sure because as much as you want to support Xiao in what seems to be a budding passion of his, you’re certain that your father is going to kill you when he sees a full-blown tattoo on any part of your body. You barely got away with the artificial mole that Xiao did for you a few years back.

“Positive.” You back your words up with an indignant huff before sifting through the pre-made designs on Beidou’s catalog. “You just have to put it somewhere not everyone can see, I guess.”

Beidou snorts out another jarring laugh when Xiao clicks his tongue to alleviate the embarrassment that’s painting his face just a touch of red. 

Earlier in the day, you intended to scold your best friend for not taking his studies seriously, but ended up going home that day with a new piece inked onto the skin of your left hip: a little spruce twig that you last remember seeing in your old hometown—years before you even met Xiao. 

There’s no particular meaning behind it, apart from a hint of sentimentality and rebelliousness. It’s your first actual tattoo, and one of your best friends gave it to you, free of charge. Even if it hurts ten times more than Xiao’s novice needle method from two years ago, you end up loving it more than you thought. One time, you stare at Xiao’s intricate handiwork in the mirror for so long that you nearly run late for your first class of the day. 

(Another thing that makes this particular piece memorable is the process itself.

Xiao is a person who’s always been startlingly precise in everything he decides to put his head into. When you learned that he wanted to become a tattoo artist, you instantly felt like there’s no other path more perfect for him than this.

Yet you couldn’t help but notice how his fingers sometimes trembled as he gave you your first piece—with you lying chest-down on Beidou’s tattoo chair in nothing but your shirt and underwear. It shouldn’t have been strange. Xiao has seen you dressed down like this dozens of times before. 

But when all’s said and done, he refused to meet your eyes, and you don’t have the slightest clue why.)

03.

You just can’t stop staring when you see Xiao’s half-sleeve for the first time.

It’s meant to be a phoenix, he said, but you can’t really see it because the patterns are too abstract to make sense of. Still, the azure ink sits nicely on top of his built bicep, and you have to tell yourself that you’re just trying to find the stupid phoenix as an excuse to keep ogling him.

Thankfully, your weird fascination lasts for only about a week until you’re back to shitting on him like you always do. 

By some miracle, Xiao manages to graduate high school despite being on probation from his excessive absences. He’s actually smart if he makes the effort to hit the books, but you’re not sure if he’s planning on going to college with how comfortable he is with being one of Beidou’s most in-demand tattoo artists. 

You ask him about his future plans at a party being thrown by the previous captain of the football team in his parents’ lavish penthouse somewhere uptown. It took a great deal to force Xiao into tagging along with you as your plus one, and you’re going to make good on his acquiescence by interrogating him about things he normally skirts around.

“I told you, I didn’t take any entrance exams,” he grumbles against the rim of his red cup. “I’m managing just fine working for Beidou, so I don’t see any reason to go to college.”

You’re about to argue that Beidou’s tattoo parlor won’t be open forever, and that he needs to think about broadening his career options until a bunch of girls with linked arms shuffle closer to where you and Xiao were lounging on the couch. You don’t talk to them a lot, but everyone in your grade knows the infamous Pyro Trio.

“Hey, Xiaooo,” Hu Tao drawls with a smirk, pushing up her sleeve to reveal the branches of a cherry blossom tattooed on the delicate skin of her arm. Behind her, Xiangling and Xinyan snicker like it’s some sort of inside joke. 

You intend to shift your gaze elsewhere. Clearly, you’re not the person these girls want to speak with. But the sight of the ink on Hu Tao’s skin makes the back of your neck prickle with misplaced irritation. Xiao must’ve been the one who did her piece, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Though he’s this year’s most notable absentee, rumors about Xiao’s handiwork haven’t gone unnoticed among the students in your (now) alma mater. 

That doesn’t mean you have to like the idea of your best friend inking other people that aren't you, though.

You decide to excuse yourself from Xiao’s company—given that Hu Tao is giving him plenty of attention already as is. Your best friend utters something you don’t quite catch as you walk away, and you don’t bother turning around to ask him to repeat himself.

(As you stuff your face with shot after shot, you force yourself to just keep dancing to the rhythm of whatever song is blaring to the speakers. You didn’t give two shits about the fact that Hu Tao keeps feeling up the stupid phoenix tattoo on Xiao’s arm. Nor did you care about the fact that your best friend—who’s normally evasive when it comes to casual contact—seems like he doesn’t mind at all.)

The night ends with Xiao begrudgingly getting behind the wheel of your car, since you’re obviously in no state to be driving anyone home. When he announces that he’ll bring you back to your apartment, you slur out a drunken protest—asking if he can take you to the tattoo parlor instead.

“What?” he asks incredulously. “Why?”

You huff, curling in on yourself on the passenger seat. “The cherry blossoms you gave Hu Tao were ugly as shit. You can do a better piece on me. Y’know, as practice.” 

Both of you know that you’re bluffing. Xiao’s pieces are one of the most intricate you’ve ever seen, even if he is a rookie tattoo artist, and that you don’t have a lot of points of reference to compare to. But instead of taking offense at your mindless jab at his work, Xiao slots the keys into the ignition with a defeated sigh.

“Fine. You mentioned wanting spider lilies a while back,” he says before propping his arm against the car seat as he backed up on the street. It’s the perfect angle to moon over his not-so-phoenix tattoo, and if you were any more intoxicated, you would’ve reached out and squeezed his arm. 

“Where do you want it?”

You know he meant to ask where you wanted him to put your prospective tattoo, but the question sends your mind straight into the gutter. Thankfully, you still have some semblance of coherence lingering in your drunk thoughts, and you answer with:

“Right hip. Opposite end of the spruce twig.”

When Xiao heaves another sigh and steps on the gas pedal, you don’t think much of it—still convinced it’s completely normal to expose such intimate parts of yourself to your best friend so he can tattoo a fucking flower just above the swell of your thigh.

04.

“You have been watching way too much anime.”

“Come on! At least I’m not having you tattoo the names of my shitty ex-boyfriends on my ass, right? Just give me my modified Tanjiro hanafuda and Fullmetal Alchemist flamel!”

“...Is this your way of coping with taking up a nursing course? Is it that stressful?”

You whine as you hold your phone closer to your ear, already picturing the look of disbelief in Xiao’s face when you asked when he’s free to give you your next tattoos. You still go to college in the same city, but it’s been weeks since you last saw him. 

“You have no idea,” you groan. “It’s like my first year, and I’m already burned out! How is that even possible?”

Your best friend grunts on the other line. “Maybe if you stopped being such a perfectionist, then maybe you’ll learn to be more content. Less stress on your part, too.”

“Ah, no can do. I never do anything that isn’t perfect,” you chuckle. “

“Yeah, I saw you score at the top of your class during your, uh… what was it again? Biochem exam?” 

For someone who doesn’t exactly give a damn about anything outside tattooing and other similar forms of artistry, you find it endearing to know Xiao actually remembers all the things you rant about in the wee hours of the morning. You don’t hate biochem, but if you have to draw another chemical configuration, you might just pop a vein. 

“Okay, let’s say I agree to tattoo those weird doodles you sent,” Xiao propositions, “do you even have any free days? You usually study on weekends, right? I don’t think you’re free to drop by the shop even if you wanted to.”

Fuck. He’s right. You still have a few major exams coming up in the next two weeks. If you wait that long until you get your silly weeaboo tattoos from Xiao, you would’ve already gotten over your momentary hyperfixation on the TV shows that were salvaging your sanity in the middle of the semester. It wouldn’t feel as thrilling to get them anymore.

“I’m free…” You trail off, eyes darting to the digital clock by your desk then to the course notes you have opened on your laptop. You haven’t studied as much as you wanted to for your upcoming anatomy test, but…

“Right now, actually. Can you pick me up?”

You can hear him frowning. “Don’t you have a car?”

“I do, but I don’t wanna drive when I have plastic wrap all over my body.” 

“You’re exaggerating. It’s not all over your—”

“Jesus, get the hint, Xiao. I miss my best friend, and I want to have a quiet evening cruise on his motorcycle before he gets me inked again!” 

Xiao falls silent, and this time, you’re having some difficulty picturing what expression he’s wearing on his face. You like to think you’ve startled your un-startle-able best friend, but that’s pushing your influence too much. 

“Okay,” he says, more agreeable than you thought he’d be. “I’ll be there in thirty. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

05. 

When you introduce your first serious boyfriend in a while to Xiao, you’re a bit annoyed with how prickly he’s being. 

Sure, it’s wired into his system to be the snarky asshole everyone knows and loves, but if there’s anyone else who knows about the tragedy that is your love life better than yourself, it’s Xiao. When you finally land a decent guy to settle down with, you at least expect him to be a bit more supportive.  

“Actually, we came here ‘cause we planned on getting matching tattoos,” your boyfriend, Yin, explains with a dimpled smile. “Isn’t that right?”

You stifle a soft laugh, a bit embarrassed to agree, but too in love with your boyfriend to protest. 

A few years ago, you distinctly remember drunkenly rambling to Xiao about how stupid it is to get couple tattoos especially when relationships these days are built on flimsy foundations. 

If you break up, what then? You have a physical reminder of that person on your body for eternity? No fucking thanks!

“Sorry, we’re closed right now, as you can see,” Xiao grunts before jabbing his thumb at the sign he just turned at the door. “You can try some other time, though.”

At the time, you were pissed at Xiao for denying your little request. He always agreed to ink you during ungodly hours of the day, but now he’s playing the ‘shop’s closed’ card just because he doesn’t like your boyfriend?

But then, you end up grateful for his attitude exactly a month later. 

“Fucking cheated on me with some bitch from his Physics lecture,” you sniffle on Xiao’s ratty sofa as he makes you some tea in his kitchen. “I can’t believe I nearly tattooed our anniversary on my wrist! I would’ve had to fucking amputate it in the end.”

Xiao sighs before placing a piping hot cup of honey lemon in front of you on his coffee table—crossing his legs together. He doesn’t tell you I told you so, like others probably would if they were in his shoes. Your best friend just stares at you with withering understanding, no matter how stupid the choice that got you here in the first place turned out to be.

That’s one of the many things you loved about him. 

“You were supposed to have ‘XV’ inked together, right?” he asks. 

You huff before tossing some of the soiled tissues you used into the bin. “Yeah. We made it official on September 15th.”

“Well, if you still want the tattoo, you could just give it a different meaning.”

Scowling, you stare at Xiao as if he just grew a second head. “What the hell are you talking about?” Is he really suggesting for you to get the same tattoo that he denied you and your ex a month ago?

Xiao shrugs noncommittally before taking a sip from the tea he prepared for you. “It’s been fifteen years since we became best friends. That’s worth commemorating, at least. Unless you suddenly don’t give a shit about that, too?”

Your jaw hangs agape at the sudden reminder. October 15th. When you were four, you accidentally spilled orange juice all over Xiao’s teletubbies backpack, and when he forgave you on the spot, you crowned him as your first bestie. 

That was fifteen years ago. Holy shit.

He startles when you abruptly shoot back to your feet, earning yourself a perplexed stare from Xiao who just wants you to sit down and drink your damn tea—

“Is Beidou’s shop open?” you ask. “I want her to do our matching tatts.”

Xiao grimaces. “Our?”

You nod brusquely, tugging at his arm. “Yeah, I’m allowed to have matching tattoos with you, ‘cause you’ll never walk out of my life, right, Xiao?”

He’s always been a stubborn little shit, so you don’t really expect Xiao to relent as quickly as he does. You nearly stumble to the carpeted floor when he lets you pull him up—faces hovering so close to each other, you nearly choke on your own breath.

It doesn’t help that Xiao has definitely…put in a few inches of height. Back then, you used to tease him a lot for being taller than him, but now?

“Never,” he whispers so softly, you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren't as close to him as you are. “Now drink your stupid honey lemon tea so we can head to the shop.” 

About two and a half hours later, you’re sitting on the vacant seats in the shop’s waiting lounge—a familiar sting still sizzling beneath your ribcage from where you had your first matching piece with Xiao permanently inked. You made him swear to have his own ‘XV’ tattoo made on the same place, and he makes good on his promise when he emerges from the workroom, wearing nothing but his dark-washed jeans.

Unlike yourself, you rarely see Xiao in various states of undress. The most skin you could get out of him on most days is the lean muscle of his tattooed biceps, and sometimes those are enough to have you staring dumbly at him for several minutes.

Now, though?

You learn that he has several tattoos on his torso—spread across his skin like patchwork. It makes you wonder if he did some of them himself, or if he had Beidou work on them for him. Still, despite the plethora of new ink stains to gawk at, his weird phoenix tattoo remains as your personal favorite.

Along with the newest piece he got not five minutes earlier—the tattoo he shares with you.

“Are you happy now?” he grumbles, letting you marvel at the perfect roman numerals just below the jut of his ribs. “It’s a good thing Beidou gave it to us free of charge, you know.”

You giggle. “All of my tatts so far have been free of charge.”

“That’s only because you’re special to me,” Xiao sighs before freezing up in the next moment—like he didn’t mean to let that slip aloud.

You smirk. “Mm? What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck off.”

06. 

Much to Xiao’s disappointment, your shitty taste in men doesn’t exactly end with Yin.

About three months after getting the tattoo to commemorate your fifteen years of best friendship, you meet Kaeya. He’s an exchange student, and you know better than to form any sort of attachment to someone who isn’t going to be in the same continent as you by next year. 

But you let him in anyway. 

You allow Kaeya to get to know you in ways that not even Xiao is familiar with. The smooth-talking foreigner likes to kiss every single one of your tattoos—lamenting the fact that they’re all inked in spots hidden from view. You laugh every time he brings it up, saying your parents are going to kill you and Xiao if they saw any of the pieces your best friend did for you over the last six years. 

“That best friend of yours…” Kaeya muses once he’s done bringing you to paradise and back, smoking a cigarette that makes you wrinkle your nose with distaste. He would’ve been perfect, if only he wasn’t such a chronic chainsmoker. “He’s in love with you, isn’t he?”

You nearly fall off the bed at his bold declaration.

“W-What the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer. Xiao? In love? With you? 

Kaeya shrugs. “I dunno, sweetheart. If I was a tattoo artist, I wouldn’t let anyone freeload my craft as many times as you did—even if you are my best friend. Unless I was down fucking bad for you, of course.”

Xiao doesn’t like Kaeya, but the reasoning behind it is a bit different from why he doesn’t like your ex. He knew Yin wasn’t a good match for you. Kaeya, though? The two of you had inarguable chemistry. The only problem was he was a free spirit that didn’t like to be tied down by commitments—something you clearly struggle with. 

When you reassured Xiao that Kaeya is nothing but a way to scratch a passing itch, he merely scoffed and told you to do whatever you wanted.

Could his dismissiveness be because…he’s in love with you? 

That can’t be right. You’re the one who knows Xiao best. If he hypothetically does catch feelings for someone—much less, you—you’ll surely be the first to notice, right?

Right?

Kaeya chuckles before tracing the XV tattoo along your ribcage with a cold finger—almost like he’s teasing. You roll your eyes before crawling back on top of your midnight lover, kissing him just to shut him up. 

When you drop by Beidou's the next day, Xiao is nowhere to be found.

“Didn’t he tell you?” She gapes. “Our boy’s starting his own shop downtown! He had the soft launch and everything a week ago. I was wondering where you were.”

“Uh…” 

You’re not sure how to break the news that Xiao has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got together with Kaeya. But finding out that he put up his own tattoo parlor without even telling you? 

If Kaeya turns out to be right, and your best friend really was in love with you, he sure as hell wasn’t acting like it. 

Deciding to play along with whatever game he’s playing, you make an appointment to get a new piece inked under a fake name. Xiao accepts it right away and schedules you for an early evening slot. You make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late just to get a rise out of him. 

When he sees you at the entrance to his shop, you almost let yourself feel smug about the unadulterated surprise on his face. Almost. You’re still pissed off that he didn’t invite you to one of the most important milestones of his life.

He fulfills your request in silence—the French word for green inked unassumingly on the underside of your shoulder blades. Xiao doesn’t say a word about his evasiveness, nor does he address the fact that you, his literal best friend, are standing in the shop he’s kept a secret for god knows how long. 

When he still refuses to talk, you slam your payment on top of a nearby table—intent on storming out of the building even if he hasn’t wrapped your newest piece in a protective layer of plastic yet. Xiao barks that he doesn’t want your fucking money, and you end up throwing your hands in the air, asking:

“Then what the hell do you want?”

You expected him to blow up in a fitful of rage. He’s never been good at anger management, you knew this well. But instead, he crosses the distance separating the two of you and crushes your mouths together.

“You,” he whispers hoarsely, desperately against your lips. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Kaeya calls you multiple times that night—even leaves a text message asking where you are and if you’re free. You aren’t able to answer any of them though. Not when you’re busy being railed into the next life by your best friend of fifteen—going sixteen—years in the same bed that Kaeya just had his way with you a week ago. 

When Xiao’s lips graze each and every tattoo he personally inked onto your pliant body, it’s leagues different from when Kaeya does it. It’s like your best friend is leaving a trail of fire sizzling beneath your skin everywhere his mouth trails along your hypersensitive flesh. 

Even the way he makes you fall apart from a blistering orgasm is ten times more intense than every session you had with Kaeya and Yin combined.

There’s no affection nor is there adoration in Xiao’s gaze as he fucks into you—golden eyes fueled by something carnal and zealous, but you knew better than to call that love. 

When morning comes, Xiao isn’t here with you, and you don’t know which emotion to feel. 

Kaeya, at least, has the decency to leave a note whenever he has to depart early. But all that your best friend leaves you with is a sinking feeling in your stomach, and a glaring realization that you did not want to make when you’re crying all alone in your apartment at the crack of dawn.

Kaeya was wrong. Xiao isn’t in love with you.

You’re in love with Xiao, and you immediately know you’re in deep fucking shit because of it.

07.

It’s two weeks into your mission of complete radio silence when Xiao finally breaks.

You’re in the middle of a pharmacology lecture when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You knew it wasn’t Kaeya because he’d already packed his things last week and headed back to his home country. The bastard even asked you for a quick farewell fuck, but you turned him down right away and gave him a kiss goodbye instead.

When you find out it’s a text message from the same person you’ve been trying to avoid all this time, you’re all too quick to parse through its contents.

Xiao: I'm sorry. Can we talk?

That’s how you wind up standing right outside of his new tattoo parlor. 

You haven’t been able to take a good look at it the last time you were here—too frustrated with your best friend to really make sense of your surroundings. But he’s put up his new shop in a pretty good part of town. You wonder how Xiao managed to afford it all. 

Then again, he’s been working at Beidou’s shop for years. You knew he had a decent number of regulars, as well as potential clients that are highly interested in his work. 

For once, you let yourself be proud of him. Even if he didn’t put your name on the guest list for his soft launch.

Xiao looks a little sheepish when he lets you inside and flips the sign on the front door to give the two of you some privacy. You aren’t faring any better. The last time you saw him, he was balls-deep inside of you—fucking you like you’re the most despicable woman in the world.

“So there’s this…collage piece I wanted to try,” he starts, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

Of course when Xiao invites you over to talk, you shouldn’t have expected any actual talking to take place. That’s just not his style. He’d rather make up for whatever mistakes he made by inking another stupid tattoo on your body, but honestly? You’ll take whatever you can get.

When you saw his sketch of a Statue of David peppered with four-leaf clovers, you couldn’t even dream of parsing the meaning behind the piece. The only thing that makes you relent is an old memory of you and Xiao hunting for four-leaf clovers in your mother’s garden—even putting the effort to plant whatever you could find in a pot in hopes that they would grow bigger.

It takes him hours to complete the entire thing. This one is probably the most realistic piece he’s done for you, and you can’t help but watch the intense concentration on his face through the mirror on the wall as he inks it a few inches above the last tattoo he did for you. 

You’ve never really realized how…breathtaking he looks like this.

His fringe falling across his pretty gold eyes, the comfortable set of his jaw as he focuses on his work, and the soft slope of his cupid’s bow despite how harsh the words that come out of his mouth can be.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You really are in love with this guy.

When he’s finally satisfied with his work, Xiao puts down his machine before wiping a sheen of sweat off his brow. He already looks so fucking good while he’s working. How is it fair for him to look even more gorgeous right after the entire process?

“Come on, let’s wrap it up,” he says before stretching his limbs. The action makes the cropped shirt he’s wearing ride up his torso a little, and you’re teased with a glimpse of the tattoo he matches with you.

Your heart nearly leaps to your throat, and if it weren’t for the dull sting of your newest tattoo, you would’ve been entranced by the sight of him entirely.

“Sure,” you say, even if your heart is begging for you to just be honest with him. To let him know how you’ve felt all this time because frankly, you can’t keep carrying the weight of your own feelings for much longer.

But then you remember how…apathetic Xiao looked like the night he dared to tell you he wanted you. There was no love to be found in his animalistic gaze, and you fear that he’ll turn you even further away at the slightest hint of more-than-friendly affection from your end. 

You can live with this. His fleeting yet heated touches. His deep, piercing stares. 

You’ll do anything to preserve what you have with him now—even if that means sacrificing everything else you could still dream of.

08.

Sometimes, you think Xiao is making you hope on purpose.

Sure, your friendship was more or less salvaged after offering your Statue of David tattoo as a quiet apology. You’re back to teasing him for all the most minuscule things, and Xiao is back to being your voice of reason in no time.

These days, though, you don’t really have much time to hang out with him like you usually do. You’re in the last year of your nursing degree, and your shifts at the hospital on top of your regular academic workload render you much too exhausted to catch up with any of your friends. Xiao included.

But there comes a night when he visits you in your apartment when you’re busy studying for a tricky surgery exam—a bucket full of fried chicken, and a bottle of sparkling water in hand. What kind of fiend would turn away an unannounced blessing like that ? 

You munch through the midnight snack Xiao brought for you all while forcing him to do your flashcards with you. He knows the drill, anyways. Though he’s been out of school for years, Xiao is still familiar enough with your study habits to be of substantial help during these trying times.

While you’re in the middle of differentiating the different types of sutures, though, he proposes an idea.

“It’s been a while since I inked you with a sewing needle and pen ink, isn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes, taking a swig of your carbonated drink as your gaze flickers to the pseudo-Orion’s belt on your right forearm. The third star has all but faded from view over the years.

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

Xiao rummages through his knapsack for a few seconds before bringing out what seems to be a small sewing kit, and a jar labeled ‘Indian ink’. You gulp in equal parts dread and anticipation.

“I figured out how to make the tatts stay longer,” he says, a gentle smile settling over his face. “You want me to give you a new one? I can even revive good old Orion, too.”

You sigh. Who are you to turn the love of your life down anyway?

Xiao gets to work while you’re lying sideways on your bed, flinching every now and again because he decided to outline the spitting image of the flower vase sitting on top of your nightstand along the curve of your waist. 

Unlike your first experience with manual needling, your pain tolerance is much better. The only reason you’re squirming every time Xiao embeds the ink into your skin is because you’re fucking ticklish. All those years of being intimately acquainted with Beidou’s tattoo machine were all the sensory training you needed, it seems. 

When Xiao is done with this piece, he pulls you into an upright position, making you hold out your arm so he could resurrect the first tattoo he ever gave you. You roll your eyes, but let him do as he pleases anyway.

At this point, you’ll let him do anything with you.

It’s nearly three in the morning when you’re putting away the dishes and glasses you and Xiao used for the night. He’s kind enough to throw out the trash while you clean up in the kitchen, and when he meets you back in the living room to exchange farewells, you don’t really want him to go.

“You have morning classes tomorrow, right?” he murmurs as he pulls you into a firm embrace, careful not to press down too hard on your new tattoo. “Take care. Don’t burn yourself out too much. All your hard work will be for nothing if you end up keeling over before graduation.”

You can’t help it. The soft timbre of his voice coupled with the fond look in his eyes tears all your defenses asunder. As you look up to meet Xiao’s uncharacteristically doting gaze, your chest twists more and more as you keep yourself from lunging in for a kiss.

“You’re such a pessimist, it’s almost funny how caring you sound,” you chuckle. “Go on, now. Shoo. It’s late.”

Before you can push him out of the door, however, Xiao catches you by surprise when he leans down to peck your lips. You stay frozen in place even as he pulls away—smiling so prettily, you can hardly believe this guy is your perpetually pissed off best friend.

“Good night.” 

Unlike the last time he left you all alone in your apartment, you’re filled to the brim with an emotion you can’t quite name. It’s far from the emptiness that made a home in your heart when you thought you were in love with someone who didn’t love you back. But you’re not about to call it happiness either.

Whatever this strange feeling is, you let it sit in your chest for a while longer, and it lingers even when the memory of Xiao’s lips stops prickling against the skin of your own.

09.

On the day of your graduation, Xiao asks you to drop by his shop after the rites have concluded. You tell him that he’s self-centered as fuck, and that this is your day, so if he wants to use your body as a practice canvas again, he’s going to have to wait tomorrow.

You don’t tell him that you’re sulking because he didn’t even show up to congratulate you for surviving four gruesome years of nursing. But you suppose that someone who never went to college in the first place wouldn’t be the best at sympathizing with this particular milestone in your life.

He shows you his latest sketch when you make it to his shop the next morning—and you can’t contain the look of disbelief that colors your features when you realize what it is.

“A bouquet that’ll never wilt,” he chuckles, one finger expertly pointing out the flowers he’s drawn on the neat page. “Orchids and hydrangeas: your favorite. Violets: you press a bunch of these in books every summertime. Pink baby’s breath ‘cause you wouldn’t stop gushing about them at your sister’s wedding.”

You aren’t able to stifle the flattered giggle that spills from your lips. “Can’t believe you actually remember all that. What’s the lily of the valley doing there though?”

“Oh, this?” Xiao hums with one brow raised. “Your mom had lots of them in her old garden. Those are my favorite.”

“And, pray tell, why is your favorite flower going to be permanently tattooed on my body?”

Xiao doesn’t humor you with a verbal answer right away. Instead, he wheels his revolving seat closer to you so that he’s close enough to press your foreheads together. Your breath hitches when his mouth curves into a loving smile you’re starting to get used to seeing.

“Because you’re mine,” he says simply. “Now, are you going to tell me where you want me to ink your eternal bouquet or not?”

10.

You’re a complete sap when it comes to weddings. Everyone knows this.

It’s for that reason that none of your guests are surprised when you end up crying in the middle of exchanging vows with your fiancé. Xiao sighs before taking out a handkerchief from his front pocket, dabbing at the tears streaming down your face. For someone who comes on so tough to other people, you’re awfully sentimental.

“Sorry, sorry—” you sniffle, thanking every single god out there for the invention of waterproof mascara. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

The rest of the session proceeds swiftly. You get to kiss your best friend of more than two decades and call him your husband in front of some friends and family. The matrimonial rites were held in a private resort at the base of a mountain. Both you and Xiao wanted to preserve the intimacy of your wedding as much as you could. After all, you didn’t need all that flashy and grandiose wedding prep to prove to the world just how much you want to spend the rest of your life with Xiao. 

Your thoughts stay the same even as he lays you down in the king-sized bed of the cabin you had to yourselves. He sighs in between kisses as he strips you off your wedding garbs. You’re surprised he’s taking his time with you. Xiao has been eye-fucking you since you started walking down the aisle. It was so bad that even Beidou made a few off-hand remarks about the sexual tension during the reception. 

“I was thinking,” you breathe as he grinds his hips against yours, “of getting another tattoo. My last one.” 

Xiao lifts his head for a moment, one brow arched. “You’re married to a tattoo artist, and you think the tattoo you’re getting after the wedding is your last one? You’re dreaming, princess.”

“Fine. Point taken.” You roll your eyes. “But anyway, I want a dragon tattoo riiiight…here.”

Your husband watches with rapt attention as you guide his hand to the spot you’re talking about—just below the collection of your favorite flowers inked above your waist is a blank stretch of skin. Xiao’s lips twitch into a fond smile as his calloused fingers graze your flesh.

“Still against having showy tatts?” he asks before pressing a soft kiss on the spot you pointed at. 

“Mhmm. You see, my dad doesn’t care if I’m married and have my own life. If he sees that I have tattoos, he’s still going to murder me,” you chuckle. “So yeah, tatts are staying under my clothes until he grows old enough and forgets that he hates seeing ink on other people’s skin.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

When Xiao ravishes you for the first time as your husband, your chest overflows with love for him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their best friends by their sides for as long as you did, yet you ended up tying the knot with yours. Although the entire process was more than twenty years in the making, you suppose there’s no point in rushing anything.

After all, Xiao is as permanent in your life just as much as the ink stains on your body.

“Look,” you chuckle once Xiao is done cleaning up in the bathroom and settles down right next to you on the bed, “Kaeya sent us a postcard. He says congrats on overcoming the emotional constipation.”

“Throw that thing away,” your husband grumbles, pulling you away from the pile of postcards on the nightstand. “Why are you even keeping touch with him still?”

“So I can use him as an excuse to get you jealous, and have you fuck me rough?”

“Oh, princess. If you wanted it rough…” he starts with a sigh, rolling his neck with a smirk. You gulp, wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time around.

“All you had to do was ask.”

⟢ end notes: it's been a while since i wrote for genshin, so i hope you liked it! thank you sm for reading ^^

[homestuckreplay]

Pagecount: Over 900

(page 886-902)

With 17 pages, 11/22/2009 is the longest Homestuck update by number of pages to date. It contains not one but TWO huge story developments: the ominous planet and the Peregrine Mendicant.

Ominous Planet

Just as WV told us, the ominous planet is bright purple and lies ‘beyond an impenetrable veil of darkness’ (p.704/886).

Dad is here!! I think a lot of the sudden character transitions in Homestuck actually make sense – we went from John thinking about going into his dad’s room, over to Dad himself. He barely appeared in Act 2, getting kidnapped by the imps at the start and breaking out of his trick handcuffs at the end, and now he easily bests them. Clowning is a physically demanding pursuit so Dad must be well in shape beneath the business clothes, because he launches one imp right through the wall.

We also meet an imp security guard (?) who’s wearing similar but more intricate harlequin gear.

They’re watching Dad fight the imps and somehow also watching John battle the ogres, through a pair of windows similar in design to ‘one of [Jade’s] GRANDPA'S more mysterious inventions’ (p.790), the freestanding window on Jade’s gadget table. There is apparently no end to the number of people watching John.

He looks kind of familiar. On page 833, we’re introduced to the full Midnight Crew as the sky switches from blue to bright purple. And comparing these face shapes and designs side by side, these two characters feel like they could have something to do with each other. They’re both really angry, as Spades Slick’s answer to everything is violence, and this new guy refers to the other imps, John and Dad, or both as ‘graveyard stuffers’ (p.891). It’s the only text we get in relation to the character. The narrator apparently has nothing to add and no witty comment on that thought of theirs. There’s then a quick cut where seeing the next page title ‘You are now…’ suggests that we’re about to become this guy, but we instead suddenly become-

Peregrine Mendicant

THE MAIL HAS ARRIVED. Mail, packages and deliveries are a recurring motif – there have been several important colorful packages, several envelopes containing discs, and now there is a letter to Dr. David Brinner, ATTN: SERIOUS BUSINESS. Serious Business is of course the messaging client that Dad uses to keep in touch with his troupe, and we just returned to Dad in the story, so is this finally the moment that wellPressedAttire or officeurchin1280 take their starring role in the narrative? It’s definitely a person in John’s neighborhood but not Dad himself, as we’ve seen the insides of the Egbert mailbox.

PM’s mail based tirade (p.894-896) is of course reminiscent of WV’s mayoral calling (p.686) and PM’s adoption of the hat is just like WV making their sash. So there’s something to say about these chess pieces arriving at these Skaian bunkers and immediately adopting an institution of society as critically important. Both PM and WV’s monologues read as very idealistic, imagining these overly simplistic societies that function like textbook diagrams, as though they know about these things from books similar to WV’s Human Etiquette tome and have never been part of an actual human society. Comparing the two, WV’s monologue feels more peaceful, as it’s focused on everyone getting along, mutual respect, civility and a kind leader. PM talks of soldiers, a crusade, defenders and hope among the ashes; it’s far more violent and adventurous, and feels more grounded in harsh realities even while it maybe overestimates the mail’s capability.

Which is not to criticize the mail or PM’s speech, because I think they’re both great. I agree that mail is very important, highly underappreciated, and I think it’s beautiful to explore an empty wasteland and to think ‘if there are any people left here, I need to make sure they can communicate with each other’.

Looking stylish in their new hat, PM loads their terminal and tries to greet Jade the same way WV commanded John. Jade is already covered by a lot of green static, but it appears to be snowing where she is, with flakes and drifts behind her. Which is weird in itself, because Jade is close enough to the equator that a quick search suggests it wouldn’t snow in her area no matter the time of year, especially not with the geothermal power near her house. But it gets weirder, because when John resisted a command he just felt frustrated and got a headache as he tried to ignore a weird voice in his head. When Jade resists a command, she apparently blows up the command station with lightning that she transmits through time and space. Yet another way that Jade is weirder and more powerful than the other characters.

> PM: Sacrifice yourself to save the mail.