#I have spent ENOUGH time reading that story

[hungermakesmonsters]

(It Is) What It Is

Sneak Peek

Plot Summary : When Billy Russo realises that there is a certain class of wealthy clients who refuse to contract with Anvil because of his playboy reputation, he decides to alter their perception of him. You’re just a down on your luck PA, just trying to get by so when Billy offers to pay you to pretend to date him, you can’t refuse. But the last thing you expect is for Billy to pull you into his secret world of lust and debauchery.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

A/N : Here's the first little sneak peek at my next Billy fic. I'm going with something slightly different for the reader character this time, so I hope you like what I've got planned. The first chapter will be posted on the 31st of January, and I'll be updating weekly. If you've already asked to be tagged, I'll tag you in the first chapter!

Sneak Peek

“Good morning, Mr Russo,” you said, heading towards his desk. “I’ve got your morning coffee and a couple of bear claws, and Mr Castle is waiting outside for your morning meeting.���

“Thank you,” he said, lingering at the window a moment longer before finally turning towards you. “Can you send Frank in and grab the files I asked you to prepare yesterday?”

“Of course, sir.”

You did as you were asked, sending Mr Castle in while you got the files from your desk. By the time you made it back into Mr Russo’s office, both men were perched on his desk, drinking their coffees and eating bear claws.

“However much he’s payin’ you, it’s not enough,” Mr Castle grinned at you, and that had the forced smile on your lips becoming something far more genuine.

It wasn’t so much that Mr Russo didn’t appreciate what you did for him - you knew that he did - it was more that he wasn’t particularly vocal about it. But you’d heard the horror stories of the PAs who’d come before you, the ones who’d quit mere weeks into working for him. At first you’d feared that it was him, that he was impossible to work for, but you’d quickly figured out that he wasn’t impossible, just... difficult. 

There was a lot of reading between the lines when it came to Billy Russo, and a lot of your time was spent trying to anticipate what he might want or need at any given time; when he was in a bad mood you’d found that food often helped, and frustration was usually mitigated by redirecting him towards smaller, easier to deal with tasks to distract him.

It wasn’t easy but you’d figured him out and, now, things ran pretty smoothly.

“Here you go,” you said, placing the files on his desk beside him. “I took the liberty of colour coding them; the green tabs are the ones most likely to want to engage Anvil’s services based on the research, orange means they could be convinced, and -”

“And what about red?” Mr Russo asked, pulling a file from the bottom of the stack.

The only file with a red tab.

“Red means it’s extremely unlikely that they would choose to offer Anvil a contract and that they’re probably not worth the money and resources that it might take to change their mind,” you explained, trying to sound as clinical as possible.

“And why do you think the Van Der Koy family wouldn’t be interested in contracting with Anvil?” He asked.

Immediately your cheeks started to heat as you tried to find the easiest (read: safest) way to explain it.

The Van Der Koy’s were old money, with dozens of high end resorts, hotels and casinos across North America. They were a literal goldmine for anyone who got to work with them. Landing a security contract with them would be worth millions of dollars, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that that was the file that Mr Russo wanted to concentrate on.

But how were you supposed to tell him that he was the reason the Van Der Koy’s would never work with Anvil?

“Well, the Van Der Koy’s have very old fashioned family values - it’s not about the money, it’s all about appearances and reputation...” you said.

“And what’s wrong with Anvil’s reputation?” Mr Russo prompted.

“It’s not Anvil...” you tried to explain, your voice turning quiet.

“Then what?” He asked, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone.

“Jesus, Bill,” Frank said through a mouthful of pastry. “She’s tryin’ to be polite.”

There was a silence for a few moments before Mr Russo finally seemed to realise what was being said.

“You’re saying that they won’t contract with Anvil because of my reputation?” He asked, and you gave the smallest of nods. “What’s wrong with my reputation?”

“Sir, I really don’t think -”

“You can’t expect her to answer that,” Frank said, speaking at the same time as you.

He looked from you to Mr Castle and back again, as if he really had no clue what you could possibly mean.

“I won’t get angry or blame you,” Mr Russo said. “I just want to know what you know.”

You didn’t want to answer, but you knew that you had to.

“Well, from what I was able to learn, it’s... it’s everything,” you said, unable to even look him in the eye as you explained. “The parties, the women - it sends a certain, uh... message...”

It felt like his gaze was burning into you as you fixed your eyes on his desk and the stack of files.

“What message?” He asked.

“She’s sayin’ the uptight, old money folks don’t like that you’re a fuck-boy who spends all his time with bimbos, Bill,” Mr Castle answered for you. “Now, could you stop makin’ her feel uncomfortable about it and let her do her damned job?”

[academicdisasterfic]

Writing Interview

tagged by the inimitable @lqtraintracks 💗

What’s your total ao3 word count? 181,945

Your top 5 stories by kudos?

- Sourdough with 3692

- Half Awake with 1333

- In the Shape of Things to Come with 1133

- A Melody of You & Me with 1023

- Career Day with 866

Do you respond to comments?

I try, but honestly, I’ve spent the last two years so burnt out and exhausted that it’s fallen to the wayside. I read and appreciate absolutely everything and try to respond when I have the energy; I still get flutters at Ao3 comment notifications in my email and I am fervently hoping one day to make up the slack.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

lol I absolutely am allergic to anything but a happy ending: I’d say a tolerance for pain but it has a sequel so not quite! Some of my microfics are quite angsty.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

All of them lol - I think the one that makes me the happiest is Half Awake. Objectively A Melody of You & Me or Sourdough is much fluffier but something about the way H&D learn each other in Half Awake feels closer to my own idea of what finding happiness feels like.

Do you write crossovers?

Not yet! Never say never - I’m thinking all the time of how much fun it’d be to write Drarry in various other universes.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes and it’s hilarious to me every time. Girl who’s got the energy

Do you write smut?

I try but I am absolutely no connoisseur. I tend to write sex scenes more quickly & with less detail than I intend, but it’s something I’m working on!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes and it made me so happy! It’s such a huge compliment.

Have you ever co-written a fic?

An absolute banger that will never see the light of day with @cavendishbutterfly

What’s your all time favourite ship?

There’s Drarry, obviously, but Wolfstar is equally as sacred to me.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I started writing a longer fic about three years ago that was intended to be a very slow burn friends to lovers and was kind of processing my own divorce. I think I just moved on, both in my own life and as a writer. I ended up using some bits of it for When the Flood Comes - the description of Hogwarts at the start and the Golden Trio’s dynamic is from that other fic, particularly the part where Ron wakes up and has to reassure himself that Harry came back from the forest.

What are your writing strengths?

I’m definitely a character focussed writer - I love writing dialogue and emotions, and I think that’s probably what I’m best at. I also love writing setting & atmosphere but I’m not quite where I want to be with it yet - that being said, none of my writing is where I want it to be, I’m chronically dissatisfied with all my words.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I am not a plot guy. I struggle with holding suspense over longer works and I think I rush too much. Sometimes I worry about being autistic and the way I express thoughts and emotions: I’ll read other work and think mine is too simplistic. I’m not very good with descriptions either, I don’t tend to describe appearances too much.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

Big yes!!! So many fic writers speak English as their second language and have to write in English all the time; I love seeing mother tongues being written in. I probably wouldn’t feel confident enough to write in a language I didn’t speak but I’ve seen people do it really well with betas who can translate.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I think I’ve written everything I really want to - perhaps one day a short angsty Narcissa/Pansy, I’ve loved the idea of them for a while but I’ve not had the time.

What’s your favourite thing you’ve ever written?

My favourite fic I’ve written is When the Flood Comes - political intrigue was a new beast for me, but I loved writing it, and I also love Harry and Draco’s dynamic in it. Outside of fic, my original novel is my favourite overall, and I’m so proud that I finished it. I didn’t really believe that I’d be able to write a full novel until I actually did it, and it changed how I thought of myself as a writer. It’ll always hold a special place in my heart.

Tagging @cavendishbutterfly @saxamophone @saintgarbanzo @nv-md @sleepstxtic @oknowkiss @basicallyahedgehog @moonmanateee and anyone who wants to participate - I love reading these, please tag me!

[louisaland]

SVU Season 16-17 rewatch

Season 16 is really good as a way to get to know the characters if, like me, you stopped watching after Season 12 ended and weren’t sure if it was worth continuing with.

I am very glad I did!

Amaro is just Stabler 2.0, as far as I can tell, but with a little more self-awareness as he realises he needs anger management classes and realises he needs to get out of the force for his physical and mental well-being and that of his kids. 

Olivia was obviously very attached to him, so I felt bad for her as she just keeps losing people. Working with Amaro evidently helped her get over Elliot leaving, and it seems like her relationship with Amaro was healthier than the one she had with Elliot. 

Amaro’s been linked romantically to Amanda, I believe? They are very similar from their upbringing and the way they internalise everything, so I c1n see why they would be drawn to each other.

When the two of them are talking/working  together and Carisi comes to give them some info/an update and they simultaneously answer that he’s not interrupting was funny. 

There’s a courtroom scene where Amanda is being questioned/cross-examined and she is asked about doing the right thing/having enough emotional support/what it means to be a good person and she’s looking in Carisi’s general direction. Very subtle, but made me squee!

I love that he hangs out with her and Fin outside of work, at the video games convention. Fin is still calling him noob/newbie at this point, so perhaps Rollins invited him? Those two always know all the celebrity gossip and who the famous people they need to talk to are. It ties in nicely to their later hang outs where they watch trashy reality TV together. Carisi I can see reading all his sister’s magazines and going to the movies with them to watch rom-coms growing up, as he seems to know a lot about them/says he loves them in the ep with the former teen actress and the producer.

Do we ever get the story about how Sonny was saved by the priests at his Catholic church? He mentions it in the big vlogging/TV religious family episode. I always saw him as a good student. For example  he’d be top of the class but would always ask questions so the other shyer kids who might not have understood and didn’t dare to ask would understand. Or he would tutor them. He seems to work very hard and be very focused, so I think he would be a favourite of the teachers. 

We know he was bullied physically and probably verbally too ( by Bobby Bianchi, at the very least), maybe because he was a bit of a goody-two-shoes. I really can’t see him ever getting into trouble at school or at home. We know he wanted to be a priest, so maybe he just spent a lot of time at church events to escape the bullying/find some real friends.

I was so prepared to hate Mike Dodds but he is very humble, is a bit annoyed to be there because of his dad’s nepotism and he refuses to be a tattle-tale. He apologises when he oversteps his boundaries, listens to feedback and generally gets on with everyone on the team. If he hadn’t had a fiancée, I’m sure he would also have fallen in love with Olivia too! 

Olivia is a very good Lieutenant. I see a lot of Cragen in her, as he would often give the team one-on-one pep talks and always tried to do the right thing when it came to members not doing things by the book. 

Maybe it got lost in translation, or I just struggle to pay attention to and understand the courtroom scenes, but Barba apparently says “Booyah, Fordham Law!” as a comeback/closing argument in a Season 16 episode, but I have never seen it though this is my second time watching. 

He was funny too when Carisi gives his personal and legal opinion on something and Barba says “That’s just your opinion, but yes, it’s correct”. 

Barba also wears fun, brightly coloured socks which are visible when he puts his feet up on the desk. I thought that was a fun way to show that he’s got a soft/emotional/fun side. Maybe because I know how he behaves in later eps towards Olivia, but I definitely find him less cold/unlikeable than I did during my first viewing. 

Something I read about was that potentially the show was going to have Barba and Carisi become romantically involved. Apparently the actors and writers were on board, but the network head said no. 

This would have deprived us of Rollins and Carisi though, and that would have been a big loss. Maybe someone like Dodds could have been gay and had a fiancé, thus having an openly gay member of the team and maybe some tension with Dodds Sr there. However,  Fin’s son Ken gets a storyline in that vein, when he and his husband have a child. 

On the tu/vous ( informal and formal you form) thing, Carisi uses tu with Amanda when she is at the hospital. This may be because they are of the same rank, but it definitely shows a level of friendship/closeness. 

Olivia, on the other hand, uses vous with everyone! Even Dr Huang, who she runs into with Barba, and she’s not in the office. She uses vous with Dodds Jr, even though she outranks him! 

[sandwitchstories]

Dango and Dragons

Hey hey everyone! Its been far too long since I shared some new Daddy Duty content regularly, so here you go! I give to you all this silly little story about Dad!Sukuna and Mouse

If you prefer to read it on AO3 click here !

WC: 1800+

Summary: To distract the toddler climbing the walls in her father's absence, Reader and Mouse decide to have a picnic. They are pleasantly surprised by the duo's return and a gift Sukuna bought for Mouse (and Uraume).

AN: To anyone new to my Daddy Duty series- Mouse is Sukuna's two year old daughter. Welcome to Mouse's Mini-verse!

Quick note about a couple of terms used in story: Shiroshi = what kites were called durin the Heian era. It translates into basically 'paper bird' Takoge = kite flying festival (along with kite flying they also sometimes included a night parade and kite battles!)

CW: Reader is not described but referred to as Mama, reader is pregnant, there are several suggestive comments made between reader and Sukuna (they are lowkey obsessed with each other- but it's okay- they are married, your honor), family fluff

You smiled as you carried the basket full of food and snacks with one hand as Mouse held onto the other. She was happily singing a song she made up as she went, pausing occasionally to look at something or ask you a question.

Sukuna and Uraume had been gone for several days and Mouse was climbing the walls. The weather was nice and you had no obligations to attend to. It seemed like the perfect day to go for a picnic. 

The two of you had spent the morning making and packing up a basket full of your favorite things, including extras of everything as Mouse had insisted, stating that the other two members of your family could be back at any time and they would probably be hungry too. You smiled and happily agreed. Whatever was not eaten now could be eaten later. Waste not want not!

The two of you had just finished laying out the blanket and setting out little plates of the food when Mouse shot upright and looked towards the horizon. She rushed to the basket and grabbed out a cookie for each hand. You were about to ask her what she was doing when two figures came into view. One a great deal larger and broader than the other. 

Her abilities to sense her father were even more attuned than yours were. You smiled as she got excited. She waited, bouncing back and forth between her feet. She knew the rules. Until Papa said it was okay to come to him, she had to stay by Mama. It was for her safety and she knew that, but she could only muster so much patience at 2 years old. 

“Mama! I think he walking too slow,” Mouse almost growled at you as she squatted down cookies still safely clutched in her tiny hands. “I gonna fix it.”

“And how are you going to fix that?” You asked, amused and curious just what she thought she could do to ‘fix’ the speed at which her father was walking.

“Like this,” she said, standing up. She carefully set the cookies down on the blanket and cupped her hands around her mouth. She proceeded to yell at the top of her lungs, “Faster, Papa! Please and thank you!”

You choked down a laugh, covering your mouth with your hands. “You think he heard you?”

“Don’t seem it,” she pressed her lips together in a frown and called again. “I said FASTER PLEASE AND THANK YOU, PAPA!”

“Why should I?” Sukuna’s voice called back, you could hear the amusement in his tone from where you sat and it made you smile. 

“You taking too long!” She called back.

“Then you come to me, brat!”

She snatched up the cookies and took off running at the speed of light towards him. “I coming, Papa! I bringing cookies, Papa!”

You watched as he handed something to Uraume as Mouse approached and he grabbed her up into his arms. You were impressed with Mouse’s hold on the cookies as her father tossed her laughing form up into the air and caught her. 

You couldn’t hear the exchange from the distance they were still at, but just the sight of the three of them walking towards you was enough to make your heart swell with love. Mouse, Sukuna and Uraume- your beautiful little family. Your everything.

You rose to your feet to greet them as they drew near. Sukuna set Mouse down as Uraume moved to set the things they were holding by the picnic basket. Mouse was happily telling Uraume about all the goodies you had brought with you. Sukuna’s eyes, however, were on you and you alone.

He pulled you closer with an arm around your waist and gave you several soft kisses. “Miss me, precious one?”

“A little,” you teased, cupping his face and kissing him again.

“I missed you a lot, Papa!” Mouse said, plopping down on the blanket and taking a bite of a cookie. She looked at Uraume and said, “I missed you too, Urau-rau. You cook better than Mama.”

You sputtered even though you knew it was the truth. “What was that?”

She turned towards you and gave you a giant smile before saying in a comforting tone, “It okay, Mama. You tried.”

While a part of you wanted to wipe the smirk off Uraume's face, a larger part of you was looking forward to a little alone time with a certain someone’s Papa. You and Mouse both being on Uraume’s good side would make things a lot easier to negotiate. 

“Uraume is a very good cook,” you agreed, sitting down as Sukuna did as well. 

“You just want me to watch her tonight,” Uraume said in a soft tone, shooting you a side glare.

“I do! You know me so well!” You agreed, giving them a wink. “But you are a good cook.”

Mouse started emptying out the basket, personally hand delivering the treats to each person. She grabbed a skewer of dango in either hand before moving to plop down in Sukuna’s lap, leaning her back against him. She grinned up at him and held up one of the skewers. “Want some, Papa?”

“I have my own, brat. Those are yours,” he said, ruffling her hair with a free hand while he smirked down at her. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but you could see by the look in his eyes and the way his fingers combed through her hair just how much he had missed her. How much he loved her. It made you tear up a little. Damn these pregnancy hormones. 

“What brought home, Papa?” Mouse asked, using the dango in one hand to gesture towards the parcels Uraume had set down.

“Why? You think there is something there for you?” He asked, eating one of the cookies Mouse had given him.

“Yes,” she said with a grin. 

“What makes you think you deserve it? Hmm?” he asked, poking her chubby little belly with his finger, making her giggle up at him.

“I been good. Please and thank you, Papa!” 

“Have you though?”

“She has been,” you replied. “She has been a big helper the whole time you were gone.”

“I take good care of Mama, Papa!” she chirped up at him as she finished her snacks in record time. 

“Alright… Uraume, give it to me,” Sukuna instructed, eating another cookie.

Uraume set aside their snacks and grabbed the securely wrapped package and brought it to Sukuna. He used two hands to help Mouse unwrap it. Together they reveal a beautiful, brightly colored shiroshi. The diamond shaped bamboo frame held together a stunning fabric that depicted the image of a red dragon with bright blues and yellows behind it. 

“What this Papa?” Mouse asked.

“It is called a shiroshi. It flies in the sky in the wind,” he explained.

“It windy! We do it now, please and thank you, Papa!” she looked up at him excitedly, her chubby hands laying lovingly on the material.

“I don’t know…” he drawled out.

“Don’t be a tease. Go on and show us your skills, King of Curses,” you teased with a smirk.

“Oh, I’ll show you my skills alright,” he said in a low tone, smirking right back at you.

“With the shiroshi,” you rolled your eyes even as your heart fluttered at his blatant flirting. Still got it!

“Yeah, Papa! Show meeeee!” Mouse said, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

“Uraume, would you do the honors?” Sukuna asked, cocking his head.

Uraume’s eyes got big and they hurried to swallow the food they were chewing. “You want… me to fly it, Master Sukuna?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it. I mean, you are the one who picked it out…” Sukuna shrugged.

“Urau-rau, you pick it for me?” Mouse’s face lit up.

“I merely pointed them out,” Uraume answered. “But if it would please you, Master Sukuna, I will be happy to.”

Sukuna moved the shiroshi so that Mouse scrambled off of his lap. She bolted to Uraume’s side. She hugged their arm, looking up at them with a big, toothy grin. “Thank you, Urau-rau!! Lets go fly it now, please and thank you!”

Uraume sighed and rolled their eyes, feigning annoyance even as their eyes softened just the slightest bit and the smallest smile ghosted on their lips. They moved to stand, taking the large object from Sukuna’s outstretched hand and walking a bit away with Mouse in tow, skippin beside them. 

Sukuna took advantage and moved to sit beside you. He wrapped two arms around you and pulled you close, one large hand holding your shoulder, the other moved lower to splay and rest over your slightly distended belly. The thumbs on both hands immediately began mindlessly tracing a pattern. He kissed the top of your head as you laid it on his broad shoulder. 

You reached over to take one of his other hands, locking your fingers together and bringing them to your lips. You placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles before lowering your hands to rest idly, fingers still locked. 

You smiled as you watched Uraume battling the wind and Mouse before getting the shiroshi flying high in the sky. They held onto the rope, concerned the wind would be too strong for Mouse’s hold. It was an adorable sight to see, and even from here you could see the enjoyment on Uraume’s face.

“During our travels, when Uraume was a child, we came upon a Takoage festival. They have never really asked for anything, you know this about them, but I could see the enjoyment in their eyes as they watched the shiroshi soar above our heads. We stayed for the duration of the festival. The next day I bought them one, and they spent hours… and hours flying it. I threatened to dismantle the damn thing if they didn’t set it down to fulfil their duties and train,” Sukuna recounted to you, a small smile on his face as he watched them.

“Really? Huh,” you said, taking it in and imagining it with a smile on your face. “Admit it… you just wanted to take a turn flying it, huh?”

“If I had wanted to take a turn, I would have take a damn turn,” he grumbled, causing you to chuckle.

“Mama! Papa! Look! We gots a real dragon! It flying! It going WOOOOOOSH!” Mouse called, spreading her arms wide and running in circles around Uraume, imitating a dragon in flight.

“Be careful or it might get you!” you teasingly called out.

“Silly Mama! It not a real dragon, it no eat me!” Mouse’s laughter carried as easily on the wind as the shiroshi flying high above her head.

Sukuna relaxed against the tree behind him, fully at peace. How could he not be? The weather was nice. The snacks were delicious. His beloved was in his arms and his daughter was happily harassing his disciple just a few yards away. Soon there would be another welp causing mayhem alongside their sister. He couldn’t wait.

[luvashli]

DANCING WITH GHOSTS

SYNOPSIS -> After a painful breakup, Y/N and Jake struggle to move on, haunted by memories of their love. She clings to the life they shared, while he tries and fails to forget her.

PAIRING: nonidol!ex!jake x fem!ex!reader

GENRE: oneshot, exes to lovers(?), angst

STARTED: 1/23/2025

STATUS: complete

WC: 2.6K

Note: this story is based on the song “Ghost of you“ by 5 seconds of summer, I advice you to listen to it while reading :)

Also I wrote it for a friend of mine, cause she is a huge 5sos fan hehe.

Click here for the song

The house was too quiet. The kind of silence that didn’t offer peace but instead carried the weight of memories. Every creak of the floorboards echoed like a whisper of the past, tugging at your heartstrings in the cruelest way.

It had been months since Jake left, yet his presence lingered in every corner. His laugh still bounced off the walls in your mind, his touch still warmed the spaces he used to claim as his own. You stood in the middle of the living room, the coffee table still bearing faint scratches from one of his clumsy stumbles.

Your eyes fell on the couch, where the two of you had spent countless nights. There was a time when his arms were your home, his heartbeat your favorite melody. Now, the silence swallowed you whole.

"Here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side..."

You muttered the words under your breath as you wandered into the kitchen. His coffee cup still sat at the back of the cabinet, untouched since the day he left. You didn’t have the heart to throw it away, even though the lipstick stain you once teased him about had faded with time.

If you closed your eyes long enough, you could almost see him. Jake, leaning against the counter, his messy hair and lazy grin the first thing you’d see every morning.

"If I can dream long enough, you'd tell me I'd be just fine... I'll be just fine."

But you weren’t fine. You hadn’t been fine since he walked out, his words cutting through you like shards of glass.

You didn’t blame him, not entirely. You were both too young, too dumb, to know what love truly meant. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

The rain was pouring outside as you decided to clean up the bedroom. You hadn’t dared to touch most of his things, but today, something in you urged you to. Maybe it was time.

As you pulled open the drawer, your fingers brushed against fabric. You tugged it out, your breath catching when you saw it—his old Led Zeppelin shirt. The one he wore the night he ran away from everything, from you.

You clutched it to your chest, the familiar scent faint but still there, like the last remnant of him refusing to fade.

"Cleaning up today, found that old Zeppelin shirt you wore when you ran away..."

The tears came then, hot and unstoppable. You sank to the floor, the shirt in your lap as you cried for what you had lost, for the love that slipped through your fingers.

Jake wasn’t faring any better.

He sat in his apartment, the dim light of the living room casting shadows that only reminded him of what he’d left behind. His phone sat on the table, your contact still pinned at the top, though he hadn’t dared to call.

He thought about you every day. How could he not? You were everywhere. In the songs he played, the movies he watched, the quiet moments when he was left alone with his thoughts.

He had tried to move on, but no one else felt like you. No one else made his heart race the way you did.

"We're too young, too dumb to know things like love. But I know better now."

Jake ran a hand through his hair, his mind replaying the last time he saw you. The hurt in your eyes as he walked away was burned into his memory, a reminder of the mistakes he couldn’t take back.

Back in the house, you stood in the living room, the old Zeppelin shirt now hanging loosely on your frame. It was far too big for you, but it felt like a hug from him, even if it was a ghost of what you once had.

You turned on the stereo, letting the music fill the empty space. And then, as if guided by some unseen force, you began to move.

Your feet shuffled across the floor, your arms wrapping around yourself as you swayed to the beat of the song.

"So I drown it out like I always do, dancing through our house with the ghost of you..."

The tears didn’t stop, but you didn’t care. You danced, remembering the nights you and Jake would spin each other around this very room, laughing and tripping over your own feet.

But now, there was no laughter. Only the memory of him, and the ache that wouldn’t leave.

Jake stood outside your house, the rain soaking him to the bone. He didn’t know why he was there, or what he expected to happen. But his feet had brought him here, as if they knew what his heart wanted even when his mind tried to deny it.

He peered through the window, and his breath caught in his throat.

There you were, dancing. Alone, but not alone. He could see it in the way you moved, in the way your arms wrapped around yourself. You were dancing with the ghost of him, and it broke his heart all over again.

"That my feet don't dance like they did with you..."

He wanted to go to you, to pull you into his arms and tell you he was sorry, that he’d been a fool. But he didn’t move. He stayed rooted to the spot, watching as you poured your heart into every step, every movement.

And when you finally collapsed onto the couch, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you afloat, Jake turned away.

He wasn’t ready to face you, to confront the mess he had made. But as he walked back into the rain, one thing was clear: he would never stop loving you.

And maybe, just maybe, someday he’d find the courage to tell you.

It wasn’t one singular moment that broke you and Jake; it was a collection of little cracks in the foundation. Tiny misunderstandings, unspoken fears, and the unrelenting pressure of life slowly ate away at the love you thought was indestructible.

Jake had always been the kind of person who wore his heart on his sleeve. He loved loudly, recklessly, and without hesitation. You loved him for that. But love, no matter how passionate, can sometimes falter under the weight of everything else.

It began with the arguments—petty at first.

“You’re always busy with work,” Jake had said one night, his voice tinged with frustration as you sat hunched over your laptop at the kitchen table. “It’s like I don’t even exist anymore.”

You sighed, trying to keep your temper in check. “Jake, I have deadlines. I don’t have the luxury of just sitting around and waiting for inspiration to hit like you do.”

His jaw tightened at your words. You didn’t mean for it to sound cruel, but it did. Jake was an aspiring musician, chasing dreams that seemed so far out of reach sometimes. You admired his dedication, but there were days when it felt like he was still a boy while you had to be the responsible one.

“I’m not sitting around,” he shot back, his voice rising. “Just because my job doesn’t look like yours doesn’t mean I’m not working hard.”

The argument spiraled from there. Neither of you really wanted to hurt the other, but the words came out anyway, sharp and biting.

Then there was the night you missed his big performance.

It was supposed to be a milestone for him—a showcase for local artists that could have opened doors to something bigger. He had begged you to come, to be there in the crowd cheering him on.

But your boss had called an emergency meeting, and by the time you made it to the venue, the show was over. Jake was sitting on the curb outside, his guitar case by his feet, the smile he’d worn earlier completely gone.

“Jake,” you said, out of breath. “I’m so sorry. I tried—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, standing abruptly. “Don’t bother. You didn’t try hard enough.”

“That’s not fair!” you exclaimed, tears stinging your eyes. “You know how much this project means to me.”

“And what about me, Y/N?” he shouted, his voice cracking. “Do I mean less than your job? Because that’s how it feels.”

You froze, your heart shattering at the pain in his voice. “Jake, that’s not true. I love you.”

“Do you?” he asked quietly, his shoulders slumping. “Because I don’t feel it anymore.”

The final blow came weeks later, during a late-night argument that neither of you saw coming. It wasn’t about work or performances this time—it was about the fear that had been building in both of you, unspoken and festering.

“You don’t even see me anymore,” Jake said, pacing the living room. “I feel like I’m just... here. Like a placeholder in your life.”

“That’s not fair,” you snapped, exhaustion and frustration bubbling to the surface. “Do you think this is easy for me? Balancing everything? I’m trying, Jake!”

“Are you?” he shot back. “Because all I see is someone who’s already halfway out the door.”

The words cut deep, but you refused to let them show. “Maybe you’re right,” you said coldly, your voice trembling. “Maybe we’re just holding each other back.”

Jake’s face crumbled, and for a moment, you wanted to take it back. But the damage was done.

“So that’s it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

And with that, he left.

The days following the breakup were a blur. You threw yourself into work, trying to fill the gaping hole he had left behind. But no amount of deadlines or distractions could stop the memories from creeping in.

Jake, on the other hand, buried himself in his music. His songs became darker, rawer, filled with the pain of losing you. He played at dive bars and small venues, pouring his heartbreak into every lyric.

Both of you pretended to move on, but the truth was, neither of you did.

You still reached for him in your dreams, only to wake up to an empty bed. Jake still caught himself glancing at his phone, hoping to see your name light up the screen.

And so, the two of you drifted further apart, held together only by the memories that haunted you both.

As you stood in the middle of the living room, his old Zeppelin shirt in your hands, the weight of it all came crashing down.

"We're too young, too dumb to know things like love. But I know better now."

You whispered the words to yourself, tears streaming down your face. You had loved him. You still did. But love wasn’t always enough to hold two people together.

Jake, drenched in rain outside your house, couldn’t stop thinking about the last thing you said to him.

"Maybe we’re just holding each other back."

He wondered if it was true. Or if you had only said it because you were scared—just like he was.

As he walked away, his heart ached with the knowledge that no matter how far he tried to run, he would always find himself coming back to you.

Jake thought she would help him forget.

He met her at one of his gigs, a girl with a warm smile and a laugh that filled the room. She wasn’t you, but maybe that was the point. He was desperate to move on, to stop seeing your face in every passing thought, to stop hearing your voice in every song he sang.

At first, she was a distraction. Her presence was easy, uncomplicated. She laughed at his jokes and told him his music was amazing. She never argued with him about late nights or missed texts. She was everything you weren’t.

And yet, she wasn’t you.

The first time Jake realized it wouldn’t work was when she sat beside him in his apartment, humming along to a song he had written.

“That’s beautiful,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “Did you write it for someone?”

Jake hesitated, his fingers faltering on the guitar strings. “Yeah,” he said softly, his mind immediately going to you.

She didn’t ask for more details, but the guilt that weighed on him was suffocating. He was using her, trying to patch a wound that only you could heal.

One night, she invited him out to dinner. He agreed, thinking that maybe if he gave it enough time, his feelings for you would fade.

But as they sat across from each other, her laugh ringing out, he couldn’t help but notice how different it sounded from yours. How her smile didn’t reach her eyes the way yours did. How her perfume wasn’t the one he’d memorized from all those nights you fell asleep in his arms.

He was quiet the entire night, his mind drifting back to you. To your shared moments, your arguments, your laughter.

By the end of the evening, she looked at him with sad understanding.

“You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?”

Jake’s heart sank. He couldn’t bring himself to lie. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

She gave him a small, bittersweet smile. “Then go to her, Jake. You’re wasting both our time trying to convince yourself otherwise.”

The walk to your house was long, the cold night air biting at his skin. He had no plan, no idea what he would say when he saw you. But he couldn’t go another day pretending he didn’t still love you.

Jake’s thoughts raced as he approached your front door. His heart pounded in his chest, each step heavier than the last.

What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you had moved on, just like he had tried to?

But the thought of not trying—of letting you slip away for good—was unbearable.

When he reached your door, he hesitated, his hand hovering over the wood. The light in your living room was on, casting a warm glow that reminded him of all the nights you spent curled up together on the couch.

He could hear faint music playing inside. It was one of his songs.

Jake swallowed the lump in his throat and knocked.

The sound was soft, tentative, but it was enough to make your heart stop.

Inside, you froze, your breath catching as you stared at the door. No one else knocked like that. No one else could make your pulse race with three simple taps.

Slowly, you stood, your legs trembling as you approached the door.

When you opened it, there he was. Jake, drenched in the cold night air, his hair slightly messy, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy, but not empty. It was full of everything you had left unsaid.

“I couldn’t do it,” Jake finally said, his voice shaking. “I couldn’t move on. I tried, Y/N. I really tried. But it’s always you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. “Jake…”

“I’m sorry,” he continued, stepping closer. “For everything. For leaving. For not fighting harder. I was scared, and I let that fear ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Your heart was a mess of emotions—anger, love, sadness, and relief all blending together.

Jake took another step forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me it’s not too late. Please.”

And in that moment, you didn’t care about the past or the mistakes or the pain. You only cared that he was here, standing in front of you, asking for another chance.

You stepped aside, letting him in.

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[tragicallyuncreative]

Chapter five soon queen? Hope all is well!

Consider this my T-minus 12 hours or sooner announcement!!! I WILL be posting Chapter 5 tonight. Whether it be before or after midnight, I can't tell you, but I have tomorrow off and nothing due in the next 24 hours so I'm determined not to sleep before it's posted.

Thank y'all SO much for being so patient. All is well, just been so insanely busy that I haven't had a time to breath, let alone finish editing the chapter. I have learned so much in the last few weeks during my ICU rotations. Spent today managing hemorrhagic shock in a GI bleed patient (original bleed had been repaired and was about to be discharged when it was suddenly like a massacre 😬) and we gave 2 units of blood over the span of 1 minutes through a line in his internal jugular, then watched as they did a bedside emergent colonoscopy and put in 2 endoclips. Coolest shit I've seen in a while (well, not for him, poor guy). @fangirl-docintraining have you had your ICU rotations yet? As my fellow medical nerd who gets so excited/ enthusiastic about new stuff, you will love it!

The biggest reason this chapter has taken so long is my balance between keeping it completely accurate to 1960s medicine vs. incorporating modern elements in a realistic way because it's just hard not to and I really want to keep my plot/ outline intact. If anyone wants clarification about what elements are modern or not that I don't specify in my chapter notes, don't hesitate to ask. There are two articles that I would really love everyone to read before or after reading my chapter. For years, I have been so passionate about St. Jude Hospital and several specific doctors and the work they did/ continue to do to treat pediatric cancer. Dr. Emil Freireich essentially eliminated bleeding as a cause of death in leukemia patients after experimenting with his own platelets and finding the correct way to infuse them. He then proposed that the method of treating tuberculosis (using multiple drugs at once) could also cure leukemia. In 1962, pediatric leukemia was a death sentence. People thought it was crazy that Danny Thomas and these doctors were stating that they would find a way to cure it. Kids diagnosed would die within weeks of diagnosis from infection or bleeding to death. Their experimental treatment of combining two or more chemotherapeutic agents was seen as inhumane by many doctors, who thought that would make these children sicker and it was better to let them die peacefully. To everyone's shock, they saw success. This treatment was trialed in the early 60s, but didn't become something doctors would refer patients to St. Jude to until 1968ish. In 1970, the man behind this extraordinary discovery, Dr. Don Pinkel, was able to officially proclaim that childhood leukemia was no longer a fatal disease, with the cure rate at 50%. Today, ALL has a 94% cure rate, but the treatment remains harsh and lasts approximately 2.5 years. And despite all the hard work of researchers, other pediatric cancers such as Wilm's tumor, Ewing's sarcoma, osteosarcoma, rhabdomyosarcoma, medulloblastoma, DIPG, and more have high relapse rates and higher fatality rates (DIPG is something I encourage everyone to research and support higher funding for- a pediatric brain cancer with 0% survival rate). I actually went to a conference at St. Jude when I was 19 for childhood cancer advocates as I was a top fundraiser that year and interested in a future career there. I cannot say enough positive things about it!

So obviously, my story will deviate the timeline a little and the fictional Children's Hospital of Oklahoma (which in reality was not established until the 21st century) will be offering this experimental treatment in '65. Some of the medications and medical devices I include were not available until after '65 (for example, ports/ central lines in this particular model were not a thing), but I also make a point to use meds that were more common during the time, not include certain devices such as heart monitors, pulse ox, etc.

This has turned into a really long ramble. The point is, I hope everyone is ready to learn a lot this chapter and I encourage you to let this motivate you to learn more about childhood cancer, the fact that it is not as rare as many think, and that it is severely underfunded.

So far, this chapter is 15K words. My last few hours of edits may result in more or a little less. So get comfy and settle in when it's time to read- it's a big one with a lot going on!!

[bullet-prooflove]

The Destroyer of Men: Declan O' Hara x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989

Declan doesn’t intend to fall in love you. It happens over a series of months while you work alongside each other at Corinium.

The destroyer of men is what Rupert Campbell-Black calls you because it was you that tanked his first marriage with pictures of his numerous affairs.

The best damn private investigator in the country is what Declan calls you after you dig up the truth behind that film star’s sex tape.

Tony hires you exclusively after that, sends you delving into the sordid lives of the rich and famous. Your official job is Research Consultant but they call you The Hound because you have a knack for sniffing out a secret. After all you were the one to learn that Maud was going to leave him, it was you who had run into her outside the solicitor’s office when you were hunting down information on another client.

The divorce should make him bitter, closed off, but it doesn’t because Declan comes to understand he didn’t fail at his marriage, he gave Maud everything he could. It just wasn’t enough, because nothing would ever be enough for Maud. He should have learned that early on especially after the first time she fucked Malhar.

His life, he finds is infinitely better without Maud. There’s no forlorn ghost haunting The Priory with it’s insane moods, driving the family further into debt. His girls are much livelier, much happier especially Taggie who starts to flourish with her catering career without her mother’s cruel words. Every morning he wakes up to a smile on his face, his daughters laughter ringing in his ears as Taggie creates something wonderful and Caitlin reads out the newspaper.

He tells you about it one night when you’re tucked together in his office, going through the information packet on Rupert Campbell-Black, days before his interview.

“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and that’s because of you.” He whispers as his thumb trails over the apple of your cheek. “Thank you.”

“Well that’s the first time anyone has ever thanked me for ruining their marriage.” You tell him, your lips brushing over the base of his palm as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “I suppose it did come with some benefits.”

He fucks you that night, your legs spread in front of dressing room mirror, his face buried in the curve of your throat as he watches you take every inch of his cock. Fuck you’re beautiful, a little wild, a little untamed, everything he’s spent entire nights imagining. The noise you make when you come, it’s the most exquisite sound he’s ever heard. His grip on your throat tightens, his eyes locked on yours as he spills his release, hard and deep.

He keeps you spread in front of him, his cum leaking out of you as he kisses a heated trail along your neck until your clenching around him and Declan, he has no choice but to fuck you all over again because you, you make him completely insatiable.

“Come home with me tonight.” He murmurs into your ear, his arms wrapping around you, cradling you close. “My girls are away and I want…”

He wants more than just a fuck in the dressing room, he wants you, all of you.

“Tell me.” You mumble, reaching behind you, your fingers threading through his unruly curls, tugging just enough to make his hips arch, his cock thrusting deep.

“You.” He whispers, his eyes meeting yours once more in the mirror. “I just want you.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[maxdibert]

Am I the only one who thinks the Marauders Era fandom was a cool concept, but the ships ruined it? Like, I'm not against ships at all, but I have seen what random pairings and ship wars can do to fandoms. I was in the mha fandom, and lemme tell you...the way these ships made the community look like pure shit is disappointing.

When I was first grazing my little curious fingers through the aisle of fandoms and stumbled across a video explaining the Marauders Era, I was understandably intrigued. "Woah! A fandom where my fannons can be cannon ? A fandom where I can write cool fics about teen wizards in the 90s? Awesome!" And for a very short period of time, it was like that. Then I came across jegulus. I didn't agree with it, so I ignored it.

Then Wolfstar. Didn't agree with it, so I ignored it. Lily x Marlene or Mary. At this point, I was just respecting the ships and sharing my innocent opinion on them. What happened after? Death threats, people bashing on my writing I had spent MONTHS making. I wanted to do something like atyd and create my own characterization of the characters and the plot so it could connect close to the cannon and fluidly move into what would become Harry Potter.

Apparently, that was blasphemy. I've yet to leave this fandom because, thank Yahweh, there are people with brains, but I must admit, the potential was wasted.

I’ll tell you a story. Not too long ago, back in 2008, 2009, 2010, or even earlier, the Marauders Era fandom also existed, and it was actually pretty fun. People were very canon-compliant, and even if a ship was a bit crack, they tried to stick to the characters’ actual personalities instead of making them excessively OoC. There were mlm and flf pairings, but there were also hetero ships, and no one bashed anyone for shipping Sirius with other characters or even with women. No one tried to turn James into some kind of cuddly clown; he stayed the egotistical jerk that he was. And no one invented random OCs, slapped names from the books onto them, and pretended they were canon like “Pandora Nobodycares.”

The Slytherins we knew were the ones mentioned in the books—they didn’t hang out with the Gryffindors and had their own space to be terrible jerks (but fun). No one tried to pinkwash them and turn them into “precious uwu martyrs of the LGBT struggle.” People didn’t bash Snape or exclude him from the fandom; the haters just briefly mentioned him in their fics and moved on because there was an unspoken rule that character bashing was out of place. Everyone coexisted in harmony—the fandom didn’t make you cringe or fill you with rage, and no one showed up to spew garbage at you for not shipping their faves or for daring to represent characters true to the books instead of some pubescent fantasy version in need of cyber hand-holding.

Even I, who now throw plenty of shade, used to hang out in groups and forums full of James Potter fans without any conflict because people could debate civilly, and they didn’t say insane things like someone “deserving” to be sexually assaulted. I don’t know if it’s because people back then had actually read the books and respected the characters or simply because they had brains, but the current state of the fandom clearly lacks either of those things.

It’s honestly barbaric that there are people dumb enough to attack other people’s creations. There are Severus pairings I don’t like at all, but you’ll never see me talk trash about them, their fans, or go into a fic to bash them. I wouldn’t even consider it. Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me that these people admire and justify bullying—they’re just a pack of bullies. And worse yet, they’re the kind of bullies who don’t even have the guts to do it in real life, so they hide behind anonymity to do it.

[i-bring-crack]

A–Aventio TGCF idea?? Wherein Civil God Veritas Ratio meets the infamous Ghost King Aventurine during his first mission cuz cuz like— The "live for me" paralels?!? The one who has all the luck partner as well?!? The villain who was actually not the Villain this whole time!?!? The loving humanity a little too much it causes their downfall !?!?!?

Rant AU in the tags proceed with caution

[luna-loveboop]

@skyloftian-nutcase I want Power Link merch

Getting invested in others ocs is so fun, like there's an awesome amount of content and updates and random memes, it's just like this little fandom between an author and their followers for their trauma blorbo and it's fun to spend immense amounts of time reading and rereading about them the only downside is there's no merch

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

obsessed with their different reactions to being called starcrossed lovers

[eternal-reverie]

got the posting anxiety bad tonight

[kaisollisto]

i'm just saying I think it's more interesting if exile alien bea has an x amount of time to live and grapples with is it worth living was my life worthy of life? meets ava who is need of a host (because halo is very unstable) and doesn't know how to stop running and they smooch and fall in love and bea is like take my body as a host, you are full of love and you have taught me love and I want my love to continue to live through you and my body will be able to sustain your host so take me on adventures and show me the world that I never got to see and live through. Make me love the world through your eyes so I may possess a fraction of your love for the world that has failed me. And then bea dies and ava does that and that's the end

but i hate sad endings and cannot be what I sought to destroy.

[echojedis]

How do people do OCs, I can never get them to click properly

[emberfaye]

You know what?

I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.

I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)

I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.

I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.

I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.

I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.

I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.

I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.

I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.

[s0dium]

𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘

A/n: For all my weird tumblr smut AO3 girls Synopsis: No one expects the weird girl to have such a good pussy. Warnings: Male whimpering, squirting, pussy drunk men, pervert y/n, unprotected sex

No one suspects the weird girl to be a perverted fiend.

No one suspects the weird girl who reads AO3 and Tumblr on the bus and has key chains of their favorite chibi anime guy. No one suspects the girl who fumbles over their words during a presentation, the girl who goes to classes in sweaters and sweatpants, the girl who spends her time daydreaming about fictional scenarios. No one suspects the girl who always seems shy and sweet, only to have a secret stash of explicit fanfiction hidden on her phone, the kind that would make even the most confident person turn red.

And of course, no one expects the weird girl to have such good pussy.

So when the confident, smooth-talking guy gets you in his bedroom, how the hell is it possible that he is trembling from pleasure just from slipping his tip in?

"Fuck, I c-can’t—" he groans, his voice breaking as he stumbles over the words. His usual cool demeanor is completely shattered, replaced with breathless gasps and desperate sounds. His head is thrown back, neck taut, and his eyes are screwed shut like he’s trying to hold onto every ounce of composure, terrified that if he opens them, the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through him will slip away. Every time your pussy squeezes around his aching dick his body trembles uncontrollably, muscles tensing and relaxing in waves as he tries to keep himself together.

"Look at me," you coo, your voice steady despite the pounding of your own heart. You may be practically a virgin, but you're by no means an idiot. Hours of reading smut, scrolling through Twitter porn threads, and indulging in endless fantasies have taught you more than you'd ever admit. You've spent too many nights alone, lost in stories and scenes where you imagined yourself in control, learning every filthy detail in your mind until it felt like second nature. So now, laying here with him unraveling over you, you're anything but inexperienced.

He locks eyes with you, big and desperate and you cup his perfect face with trembling hands.

"You're mine tonight ok?" you whisper, bringing him in just enough for your breath to tickle his lips, your voice low and dripping with confidence you didn't know you had. "Every sound, every breath—your mine."

"F-fuck, y-yeah I'm yours" he groans, accentuating his words with a sharp thrust right into your cervix, knocking the wind out of you.

"Mmm!" You cry. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides in and out of you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making him let out a low groan of his own as he thrusts even deeper into you. 

“Y/n I-I can feel you doing it to me,” he says hoarsely.

His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot makes your brain go fuzzy. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as he rams into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.

Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.

"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" He grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. "Because this is how we were doing it in mine." He felt good? Try euphoric. How could it be possible that pussy feels this good?

You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion he makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.

And of course, no one expects the weird girl to be a squirter.

You don't know whats happening and you don't have enough to warn him. Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to him as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.

He stills his motion and watches through wide eyes as clear liquid sprays onto his abdomen and you tremble and moan. As you floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breath came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.

"Why did you stop?" You whisper.

Sukuna, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro

#weirdgirlpussy