#I just don't know when to shut the fuck up! ever! and always make a complete fool of myself!

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Hello I was wondering if you could do Jackson ellie x bestfreind reader and like they have had a crush on eachother for a while and have a sleepover where they smoke or drink maybe or play some type of game like truth or dare and find out they like eachother and get kinda freaky idk. Thank you!

EEE I am so excited for this one watch me cook on this request. This is a rlly good request and I wanna write something just as good!! Also I want to recommend you an ao3 fic with this EXACT plot it's tagged here actually my favorite Ellie fic ever.

Content: 4k words, bestfriend reader, Jackson setting, pent-up feelings, nipple-play (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), tribbing, Ellie puts a finger into your mouth how fun!, a lot of dialogue before the actual sex sorry but I loved writing Ellie to be funny, reader likes pink a lot (couldn't help myself) and is afab, reader and Ellie 18+, NOT PROOFREAD LMAO

You're far from safe from liking people you shouldn't like.

That doesn't even cover the multitude of feelings! Like doesn't cover it. You're pretty sure you love Ellie.

Maybe in another lifetime, you and Ellie could've met and went on a date. You could've loved her freely. In this universe, she is your childhood best friend.

You know it could ruin the best thing that has ever happened to you if you tell her, or if she finds out in some way, but fuck; when she looks at you, it's like you forget how to breathe. You just wanna breathe her in, you want to share the same air and feel her lips on yours.

Ellie is unlike anyone you've ever known. She's sweet for you. She's impulsive to others, and honestly sometimes an asshole. That only makes you fall more and more in love for her. You didn't know it was possible to be attracted to someone's flaws, but you want every piece of her, even the bits that others in Jackson label as "annoying."

Ellie has always been there for you since you were just 15 and she moved to Jackson right by Joel's side. You just seemed to click. She was brash, foul-mouthed, and told ironically funny dad jokes. You were the type of person who liked having adventures and never shut up. Ellie always listened. She held you while you cried, let you borrow her book of puns, and volunteered to do patrols with you just so she could have fun adventures with you.

You couldn't ruin a good thing. You don't know what you would even do without Ellie in your life. You didn't wanna freak her out or make things weird. You feel like such a coward, but even thinking about Ellie distancing herself from you because of your stupid crush on her? It just makes your stomach churn with dread.

Little did you know Ellie was equally obsessed with you.

You're like a fucking ball of sunshine to the girl, always there laughing at the stupid things she says, defending her when she gets in trouble for something minor, and your smile should be considered warfare for how easily it could kill her. She tries to keep her feelings to herself, but it is so hard to when you look at her with bright eyes and the sweetest smile like you're trying to give her a toothache.

It's a recipe for a bomb, and it only takes one game to set it off.

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You're sitting criss-cross on your bed and Ellie is in your floor. It's a Saturday, which means both of you get to have a sleepover. No patrol, and no major chores to be done around Jackson.

Ellie just got back from a multiple day lasting patrol and she missed you so much while she was gone, it's not even funny. Seattle is beautiful, but boring when there isn't a sunshine girl in awe about how the verdure clings to the buildings. But at least now she is here, back in your bedroom which she loves so much.

Ellie's room is vastly different from yours. Well, her garage is. Her bedsheets are grey and minimalistic, and her make-shift kitchen is lined with posters. Her favorite is the one with the punk green-haired man holding a guitar. Her closet, however, it quite impressive. Her shelves are lined with comics and space movies, and her hangers are lined with flannels, of course.

Your bedroom, in contrast, has white bedsheets and a cozy pink blanket. You have a few raggedy plushies from scavenging around and your shelves are filled with lighter-colored clothing. White curtains decorate your windows and frilly pillowcases (that end up in the floor most of the time) compliment your bed. You have a full-length mirror in the corner of your room and a shelf of DVDs you usually just bring over to Ellie's garage, since she has a much nicer tv than you do. Ellie glances up at you from the floor, squiggling her eyebrows.

"I'm so fucking bored!" You groan, making Ellie laugh in the process.

"And how is that my problem?"

You flip her off and she clutches her stomach.

"Seriously, Ellie. I wanna actually do something and not just eat grilled cheeses and read your nerdy comics."

She scoffs.

"Excuse me? It's not my fault you have bad taste in literature."

You snort at that. "Starlight Savage and Raven Mouse are not literature."

"Oh, then what are they, huh?" She stands up, amusingly offended.

"Comics!"

Ellie grabs one of your pillows and pretends to suffocate you with it. You're laughing and trying to pry it off of your face.

"Hey, quit! You're actually gonna kill me!" You giggle, your voice muffled from the cushioning.

Ellie finally relents, laughing along with you.

"Better think twice before disrespecting Starlight Savage." She is wearing her signature shit-eating grin.

"Oh, whatever.. Hey!- You got me off topic." You groaned.

Ellie laughs at that. "And what was the topic?"

"I am bored out of my fucking mind," you complain, your voice rising in pitch to sound whiny, which she pretends to absolutely hate.

Really, she just hates that it makes her stomach clench when she hears your cute complains, and the tone of your whines only makes it worse.

"Okay, okay, fine. We can do something fun." She feigns reluctance, setting down on the bed beside you.

"Great!! So, what should we do?"

"Seriously? You don't even know what you wanna do and you gave me whiplash bitching about being bored?"

You scoff, jumping to your own defense. "I was tryin' to get you to come up with something," and then you add to complete your argument, "I wouldn't be bored if I knew what we could do."

Ellie sighs, and you smile because you know that means she has had enough of your bullshit and she just wants to throw in the towel.

"Fine. Well, we can play a game perhaps?"

You groan in protest at the suggestion. "You're a dirty cheater when it comes to Monopoly!"

Ellie only lets out a sheepish laugh at that, because she knows that you're being 100% truthful. "That is what makes the game fun!" When she sees your glare, she sighs once more. "Fine. How 'bout Truth or Dare?"

That sounds intriguing; the game begins.

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You and Ellie sit across from each other, and the game has been going on for around 10 minutes now. It's getting quite boring - always questions like "What's a secret you haven't told me?" or Ellie dares you to do something she knows you won't do, like lick the toilet bowl.

Then, she asks a question that brings the game onto another level.

"What's your favorite sex position?"

You stare at her, your jaw practically in your lap. You don't wanna talk sex positions with the girl you secretly wanna do sex positions with.

"What the fuck, Ellie?!"

She looks a bit guilty, but shrugs with a smirk that doesn't go unnoticed.

"What? I wanted to spice things up. C'mon, don't be a pussy."

You think it over, but finally, with a heated face, you say fuck it and give into her bullshit. "Missionary."

Ellie bursts out laughing.

You're sitting there not knowing what to do! She is laughing like a hyena at this point, tears in the corners of her eyes. She slaps her knee. What the fuck?!

"What's so funny?!"

Ellie just laughs, falling over and she is snorting like a pig now before she finally settles down. "It's just.." she tries to stifle a giggle, "that is the most boring thing you could've possibly said.”

You know that, but you're keen on defending your word. Ellie loves that about you, how you're always quick to stand up for yourself. "It's romantic!"

"Okay, okay," she shrugs. "Enlighten me on how missionary is more romantic than any other position that actually feels good."

You don't hesitate to list off the facts. "First of all, it does feel good! You just haven't tried the pillow method. Second of all, you can kiss your partner and actually talk to them." You sigh, getting a bit flustered (and turned on) by the conversation at hand. "Imagine fucking someone and getting to kiss all over their face while doing so, or on their neck or their tits. It's about the intimacy."

Ellie looks just as flustered as you now. She is silent for a moment before giving you the benefit of the doubt. "Okay, I guess you can rest your case now. But there is much more intimate positions than missionary, you know. You're just thinking vanilla ones like riding the strap-on, or from behind."

You raise an eyebrow at that. "Okay, I'll bite. What's more intimate than looking into someone's eyes while they cum?"

Ellie laughs at your vulgar question, pink tinting her freckled cheeks. "Tribbing." Her voice is more quiet, and that only makes you more aware of the slight tension.

You quickly brush it off with a laugh.

"Of course your gay ass would say that."

She grins and sits up at that, quick to defend herself. "Hey, you have no room to be talking, little miss 'my gay awakening is Rose from Titanic.'"

Your jaw drops and you look at her like she has said something crazy. "Hey, Rose is hot!"

She giggles. "Yeah, Sherlock, thanks for pointing out the obvious."

You roll your eyes. "Okay, okay. Can we get back to the game?"

She nods, and it continues.

As time passes, the questions grow more and more...uncomfortable to answer. You're still asking her the more casual things, but Ellie is daring you to do stupid, impossible stuff, or to answer questions like "what was your first time like?", "do you have a friends with benefits situation with anyone in Jackson?", and "if you could kiss anyone in Jackson, who would it be?" (which you brushed off jokingly by saying old man Eugene. She didn't press any further, only mocking you).

Then, she leans forward after you choose truth, and she whispers something you can't really brush off.

"Who do you like?"

You're fucked. If she asked "do you like someone?", you could answer without revealing who it is. She knows she has you trapped. Sneaky cunt.

You don't answer right away. Ellie is so close, your knees touching. The air in the room is insanely hot, and you want to leave your own house, you want to hide under your blankets or cover your face, but you can't.

Ellie doesn't wait for you to answer.

"I know you like someone, I can tell when my best friend is in love. Who is it?"

"That's way too personal, I.."

She scoffs, but it's not a rude sound. Just shocked, maybe slightly hurt. "You have always told me your crushes. Why won't you tell me now?"

You feel guilty now because she doesn't understand. She doesn't get why you won't tell her. She can't understand that it's because you like her. You want to scream it: I'm in love with you, Ellie! But those words won't be the next you utter.

"I just...I feel like this time it should be private." You know that your reasoning is weak, for once in your life, the defense is slipping and it's ugly. You internally wince.

She just stares in silence, not really meeting your eyes. It makes you panic, and then, then the words slip from your mouth seeing the hurt on Ellie's pretty face.

"It's you."

She stares at you like she didn't quite hear what you said, even though it was shaky, nevertheless loud and coherent.

"What...?"

"I..I'm in love with you, Ellie." You repeat yourself.

She leans into you. "Fuck.." Her breath hitches. "You better not be fucking around with me, I swear to-"

"No!", you shout loudly and quickly try to compose yourself. "I mean..I'm not joking. I like you. I hope this doesn't fuck with our friendship, or like.." You trail off, not wanting to think about what could happen now.

"I'm in love with you, too." There, now Ellie has gotten it out too.

Ellie didn't even fully understand why she asked you that. She knew she could've gotten her feelings hurt, that you could've liked someone else or that it would definitely mean you did like her, and then she had to be vulnerable and confess it back. Still, she was so exhausted, so fucking tired of pretending like hugs and casual touches were enough. They were never enough.

"Can I kiss you?" She doesn't even give you the proper time to react to her shared confession before she springs that onto you. You don't complain, only nodding quickly.

Her breath is warm against yours, and you can tell how shaky it is. You've never seen her so nervous, it makes your own stomach flutter with butterflies. Then, Ellie's grasping onto your face and smashing her lips against yours. Her mouth is warm, and the kiss doesn't even start out gentle. It's all devouring, all need and passon.

You quickly move into her lap, thighs on either sides of hers, and both of you are desperately pulling each other closer, finally sharing the same air. She tastes like everything natural, something so unique it can't be described but you immediately know you need more of it. Her tongue moves inside of your mouth, devouring you just like how she has been dreaming of for who knows how long, and when you're forced to pull away for a breath, her lips are sloppily trailing down your jaw to your throat, her hands grasping your hips to pull you closer.

"I've wanted you for so long, you know that?" Her voice is warm against your sensitive skin, and you think you could just burst with how it feels to be practically intertwined with her.

"Show me how it feels, Els.." You gasp and tilt your head back for more, but Ellie pulls away to look at you.

"How what feels?' She doesn't sound rude, only confused with her lips swollen and wet.

"The intimacy..the intimacy you talked about.." Oh, that.

She nods quickly, and her mouth is all over your shoulders, leaving soft pecks between words, "We can do that, but I wanna do something first..is that okay?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

With that, she pulls your shirt over your head and stares at you like she has never seen a pair of boobs before. Her eyes are wide and she takes you in before her.

"You're so pretty," she mumbles with conviction, kneading your tits through your bra. You can only moan when she sticks a hand into your bra and rubs her palm over your nipples, her other hand deftly undoing the clasp of the fabric.

That was the hottest thing you could do for a woman, Williams..

Her lips quickly find a nipple, pulling it into her mouth to swirl her tongue around the bud. Your fingers tug at her hair, begging for more. You need her closer. She reluctantly pulls her mouth off off of its new favorite place and leans back up to face you, planting an affectionate kiss on your cheek before smiling sheepishly.

"I'm gonna say something I want to do to you, but you can't laugh.."

That makes you already giggle, despite the heat building between your thighs. That is something you love about Ellie, the way she can make you laugh even when you aren't supposed to be.

"I'll try my best. What is it?" You ask, and she fiddles with her fingers nervously.

"I wanna use my fingers on you," she says it so quietly, voice nervous but filled with hunger before she quickly adds, "if you want me to. It's okay if you don't wanna go any further-"

"I want you to finger me, Els."

That was easier than she thought it would be.

She nods now, slowly unbuttoning your jeans and watching with an intense gaze as you hop off of her lap to shimmy them off. Now you're in nothing but a cotton pair of panties and you look so gorgeous.

Ellie has always found you to be beautiful. During patrols and on lookout, your hair had a shine to it that most people wouldn't care to think too much about, but Ellie always noticed it. Ellie always noticed the way your lips parted when you were zoned out, or how you walked like you always knew where you were going even on the paths that were mainly uncharted. You were so lovely-looking.

Now, nearly naked for her, she doesn't know if she can bare to blink even for a second. She is currently having a never-ending starting contest with your body, and she has to stop herself from pouncing on you. She wants to love you, not just fuck you.

Ellie is on her knees between your legs, hooking her fingers into the waistband of your underwear. Her eyes flicker over your body before looking to yours for confirmation.

"You sure you want this?"

"Please, Ellie. I want you." You know you sound desperate for her, but it can't be helped. You were soaked through your underwear, clit beating with need, and Ellie is just eyeing you like she wanted to devour you. She probably would, but she wants to save your clit for later.

She nods and slips your underwear down your legs, pulling them off of your ankles and throwing them behind her. The action made you giggle, but Ellie quickly squashed your outburst.

"Somethin' funny?" She asks, slipping a finger through your slick folds. You gasp and jolt.

"Hey, where the fuck is the warning, you cunt?"

She has to stifle her own laugh at your outburst, but she is growing tired of the cute giggles; if you laughed one more time, she'd be fucking you until you were limping-

"Sorry, pretty. I'm gettin' impatient." Her tone mkes you involuntarily clench. You rarely hear that tone, the serious one when she is either around someone she doesn't know and is keeping it professional or just not in the mood to joke. Now, you discover it's her horny tone, too.

You nod, tilting your head back to rest it on your frilly pillow. Finally, she slips two digits past your lips and you resist the urge to let a whorish whine slip past your lips. When she easily slides into your heat, you then can't resist.

Ellie's eyes are glued to your pussy like it's magic, watching your hips try to rise for more, feeling the way your walls tighten around her intrusion.

It's too much for her poor, fucked head to bare.

She is already as wrecked as you are. She wants to taunt you for the way you already look like you're going to cum from her barely brushing at your spongey g-spot, but she can't. She is probably in rougher shape right now.

"You feel so warm." It's all she can manage to get out, and she curls her fingers inside of you into upward, making you moan.

"I wanna cum, Els..please, more. Give me more." Ellie has never seen you this dumb for pleasure before, but who is she to deny you?

Her fingers aren't thrusting in and out or finger-banging you, just slowly sliding through your cunt, her fingertips stroking where you need them to. You feel so full, so complete. You hope she does this every single day from here on out.

It doesn't take long to get you into a state of complete bliss, and you haven't even climaxed yet. Your legs aren't clamping down, rather spreading wider as if you're begging for her to take you in the most obscene ways possible, fill you up with more than just her fingers. If only she you two were currently at her house, she has that unopened strap-on box... maybe for another day.

The knot that builds in your stomach, the temperature of it overheating your insides is about to snap. You're begging as if Ellie is teasing you or something. You're whining, and you look like you're about to start sobbing if she pauses her pace even for a nanosecond. She just wants to gives you everything, thinks you deserve the whole world, so she leans forward and intertwines her fingers with yours as her other fingers pump deep inside you, and you swear it's rearranging your guts. You wanna be wrecked so damn badly.

"You keep fluttering around me, gonna cum?" She asks, and you whine and nod.

Your orgasm soon hits you like a tsunami, once in a crash and then it simmers throughout you in waves. This is probably the hardest you have ever came. You gasp onto her hand tight, squeezing her fingers. You can't even speak or you'd be howling her name. It feels so euphoric and you wonder how it can get any better than this.

When you come down from the peak, she eases her fingers out of your tender insides and licks her ring finger clean. Then, she settles her hips between your legs, bringing her soaking middle finger to your lips.

"Open up."

You do so without question, tasting yourself on her digit before she swiftly pulls her finger away with a "pop!"

"I taste weird," you mumble and she rolls her eyes, mumbling a little "fuck you" before sitting up to strip out of her flannel.

You feel maybe a little nervous before. Something about the thought of feeling her in such an intimate way makes you feel even more fluttery inside. You've been with women before, you are far from a virgin, but you've never clashed clits before (omfg what). Most girls thought it was just a porn thing.

"You okay?" Ellie pauses, her flannel on the bed and a black t-shirt layer underneath it.

"Yeah," you mean it, "just a little nervous."

Her eyes soften, and she takes your hand and squeezes it. "I promise I'll be slow with you. I'm not gonna rush you into this, and if you want, we can always stop."

You feel more assured now, and you smile. "Okay."

When she finally strips out of her clothing, you take her in. She is breath-takingly beautiful. Her body is pale but covered in tan freckles, and her nipples are perky with arousal. Her shoulders and collarbone look so fucking kissable. You're still in a daze as she hooks a leg over yours, her warm cunt only an inch or two away from yours. She hovers.

"You ready?"

"I want you, so yes."

That makes her smile, and she slowly eases down onto you, her folds rubbing up against yours and both of your neglected clits finally getting the attention they deserve. Both of you are already moaning and Ellie leans down onto you, her tits brushing against yours as she kisses you deeply.

This kiss is slower than the first, less desperate but just as emotional. It's hungry and consumes you in a sensual way. Her hips grind against yours, her slick mixing with your soaked pussy to make you only whine into her mouth.

Now you understand how intimate this is. You feel so connected to Ellie in a way you hope you never get to feel with anyone else. You wanna always be this close. You think that even after this ends, you'll feel that tie to her body and heart, always leading you back to her.

When you both cum together, it's much different than what she gave you before. You can feel her tense up with you, hear her shaky breaths and moans, and you feel a warmth inside of you reminding you that she feels this way because of your pussy, because of her feelings for you. It's making you obsessive to feel this way.

When the high fades, she collapses on top you. You're both breathing heavily for a few minutes. Her breath is against your neck and it feels like a kiss. Your brain is thinking of something stupid now that the horniness is over.

"Isn't it obvious that I'm your girlfriend now?"

Ellie laughs and squeezes you tightly.

"Yeah. You're my girlfriend now, and I'm not letting you go."

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[vezpr]

------------------------ toxic. ]

SUKUNAxF!READER ☽☾ COLLEGE AU ☽☾ ONESHOT ☽☾ AO3

☽☾ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Gojo shows you a video of your boyfriend, Sukuna, making out with another girl at a party, so you decide to get revenge. Poor Nanami.

☽☾ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+MINORS DNI, smut, porn with feelings (not necessarily good feelings), sukuna x reader, nanami x reader, ft gojo for as long as I can stand him :b, human Sukuna, college au/ no powers, toxic/ mutually abusive relationship dynamics, cheating, spanking, hate fucking, face slapping, throat fucking, hair pulling, light choking, no aftercare, degradation, name calling, drug and alcohol use mentioned, size difference, oral sex, piv sex, I suck at tags

☽☾ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.3k

"Satoru, can you at least pretend not to enjoy this, please," you say, holding your phone away from your face as it rings. 

The man is glowing, his lanky frame sprawled across of one of the mismatched sofas in his apartment, one boot propped on a coffee table littered with the controlled chaos of his studies. He looks as if his head might actually explode with the force of unexpelled I-told-you-so's. "He's an asshole. I told you that before you ever hooked up, right? Forget him!"

"Damnit," you hiss, pausing in your frantic pacing long enough to redial your asshole boyfriend's number after being sent to his full mailbox half a dozen times. 

"Why don't you try cool down a little before you talk to him," Nanami says from the opposite side of the room where he sits hunched forward, elbows on his knees, watching you pace. Always the reasonable one. "Nothing productive can possibly come of talking to him while you're like this."

You shoot the blonde man a withering glare, but hit the end button on the call, shoulders sagging, chin to chest as you cross to his side of the room. "I know you're right, Nanami," you reply as you slump, defeated, onto the sagging cushion next to him. He clears his throat when you splay your legs and your knee brushes his. You lean your head against the back of the couch and turn your face towards him, lips pursed in a pout as you feel the stinging threat of tears in your eyes. "It's just that... right now, I don't feel like I can cool dow-"

You sit bolt upright as your phone buzzes in your hand. The screen lights up with his face, framed in soft salmon waves that contrast with the hard black lines of tattoos tracing the angle of his jaw. You've been together for a year, practically moved in together right away, and still, even the digital representation of his garnet eyes makes your heart stutter just like it did the first time you saw him. 

"Hey, I really don't think you should-" Nanami begins.

"Sukuna," you answer, rising from the couch and crossing the arm that isn't holding the phone to your ear over your ribcage, as if that will prevent your heart from beating out of your chest.

"Who are you with," he asks, apparently hearing Nanami, who continues to lecture you in the background. But, fuck, if the rasp of his voice doesn't make your insides squirm in a way they definitely shouldn't right now.  Why do you have to be so hopelessly obsessed with him?

You shoot your friend a pleading look and wave your hand at him. He sinks back into the couch, shaking his head, but he shuts up. 

"Who's throat did you have your tongue down last night," you demand, voice rising already. When your question is met with silence, you add, "Go- someone showed me a video."

"Nothing happened," he replies, his voice steady and calm, as if he were ordering a coffee, which really makes you start to lose your shit.

"Do. not. fucking gaslight me right now. It was you, I fucking saw-"

"I mean nothing happened after that. You didn't see a video of me fucking anybody. Didn't even hear about the possibility of me fucking anybody. Because I didn't fuck anybody. I mean, shit, I got home before you." He pauses and your heart starts to slow just a little. Maybe it really didn't go any farther than that.  Maybe this doesn't have to be a big deal... but then he opens his stupid mouth again.  "Couldn't stay hard because of the molly."

"Fuck you, Sukuna," you scream-sob, holding the phone under your chin. "Fuck you! If you were here I'd slap your motherfucking face so goddamn hard I swear to god!"

He laughs, of course. "Calm down, baby. I'm kidding. I knew that white-haired prick was watching my every fucking move. I just did it to piss you off after you left with that blonde guy that's always limping after you like a lost puppy."

You glance up at Nanami, wondering if he heard, but he is studiously examining his cuticles. Even Gojo looks uncomfortable as he busies himself with straightening the papers on his desk, his luminous eyes peeking at you through the platinum locks that have fallen over his forehead in the process.

"I left because you were so fucking high. Laughing at everything, grinding your teeth like a crackhead, going on and fucking on about how you feel like a god among men or somevweird shit like that. It's embarrassing as hell! I ask you to go to one little party-"

"Exactly, you bitched and moaned until I agreed to hang out with your loser friends - who just so happen to all be men that want to fuck you-" 

He is getting loud now, apparently loud enough for your companions to hear because Gojo, with a flourish of his wrist, cheerfully interjects, "I don't want to fuck you."

"Shut up Satoru," Nanami hisses.

"-It's like you get off parading yourself around them in front of me... but I digress. My point is that I don't know what the hell would make you think I would be willing to endure that shit sober."

"Oh, so now it's my fault you fucking cheated on me?"

He's quiet for a minute and you hear him sigh into the receiver. "I got a question for you. You didn't get home til late, where were you?"

"Well, I was hungry so we stopped to get something to eat..."

"For like... had to have been at least four hours?"

"I guess we lost track of time talking..."

"Talking. Okay. Well that sounds fucking fantastic, babe but-"

"Well at least I didn't tongue wrestle him in front of half the fucking campus!"

"You know what... I can't do this now, I'm at work. That whimsical motherfucker had all day to start this shit and of course he waited until I'm at work. When I get home tonight, we're gonna have a nice long chat. Maybe not four hours but..."

"I'm not going to be home when you get home tonight."

Another tense silence. "Don't fuck with me, babe. You really don't wanna do that."

"Don't fuck with me, babe!" You echo in a shrill, mocking tone. "You know what kind of people say that? 'Don't fuck with me?' Weak, scared little bitches. And you should be scared, because you're never gonna find somebody who will want your worthless, piece of shit ass like I did. Ever."

"Baby."

"Please fuck with me, babe, find out what fucking happens," you spit out before hanging up on him. 

When your phone vibrates, you're still rooted to the spot. You lift your shaking hands to read the message.

you better be there when I get home

You scoff. 

"Nanami, can I stay with you tonight?"

He had been watching you, but now his eyes slide away behind the glare reflecting off his glasses. "You really think that's a good idea?"

"Please? I don't want to be home and I don't want to be alone," you must look quite pathetic, because he nods begrudgingly.

"Great," says Satoru. "This man has been needing to get laid for decades."

"Shut up, Gojo," you and Nanami both say at once.  

Although he is the same age as the rest of your friend group, the man has his shit significantly more together than anyone else. He had skipped most of the partying, failing, switching majors, and the rest of the general fuckery and graduated first. Got himself a good job, something to do with stocks. He's got a mortgage, while the rest of you are struggling to pay rent. He's too good for the rest of you, truth be told. 

You look at your phone, as you had approximately every  ten seconds since you left Satoru's apartment, but nothing from Sukuna. He wouldn't be off from his job until almost midnight, anyway. Maybe he really doesn't care what you do. You pull down the menu from the top of the screen and hover your finger over the location toggle. Nah, let him suffer, you think to yourself as you decide to leave it on. Or come get me if he actually gives a fuck.  Sliding the device into your back pocket, you walk up the driveway to Nanami's door and knock.

Too good for you. But he doesn't seem to know it.

"Hey," you say with a tight smile when he lets you in. "I come bearing gifts," you hold up a bag of takeout and a bottle of wine. There's actually another one in the trunk, just in case.

You're pretty sure neither of you are watching whatever movie is playing. You don't even remember what it's called.  Gradually you notice that he relaxes, softens into the couch, turns his head to look at you, smiles a little. You smile back. It's easy to just be with Nanami like this, quiet.

You do end up retreiving it after the first one is empty. The man is wound tight like a spring. And you swear he clears his throat everytime you accidentally brush against him grabbing food from the coffee table, or refilling you glasses. What does that mean? You wonder silently.

"You sleep with those on," you tease, poking his calf with a socked toe.

He looks down, "What my shoes? No." He smiles, warm. Tipsy maybe, both of you. 

You laugh softly. "Take em off. You live here, you know."

He shrugs and toes them off. "Happy?"

"No," you deadpan.

His smile falters and you laugh.

He lets his head fall against the back of the couch and rolls his eyes. Looks at you and smiles again. "I don't drink much," he says.

"I know," you scoot closer, knees pressing into his thigh. "You drunk?"

He looks down at the point of coat, then back into your eyes. "No. Are you?"

"Nope." You reach out and lift his glasses off of his face.  He lets you. Doesn't even clear his throat or look away. When you lean back to set them on the coffee table, you begin to lose your balance, but he catches you around the waist and pulls you back.

"You sure?" He asks, resting his hand on the small of your back. 

"I'm sure," you smile, reaching for his tie. "Don't you ever get comfortable?" You ask, loosening it. 

"Not really," he says, pulling you towards him. 

"Hm," you hum, straddling his lap as you pull the tie free from his collar. You smile at how nonchalant the two of you are, as if this isn't happening. Like he didn't pull you into his lap. Like you aren't brushing a blonde fall of hair off of his forehead as he looks up at you, honey eyes half-lidded. Like his hands haven't slid under the hem of your tank top, warming the skin of your back.

You're just friends. Yeah. Just talking.

His mouth is warm and soft, wine-tart. He smells like cedar and ocean salt. When you hear your phone ping softly, he's got a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to press his mouth into your neck, tongue gentle against the tender flesh. No teeth. Without looking you know the unique little tone means your device has been gps located. You moan when he pulls the strap of your tank top down and takes your nipple in his mouth. You hadn't worn anything under that. 

Oops.

You had been working on the buttons of his shirt, palms sliding across his pecs. He pulls away to let you slip it off. "I could take care of you," he says, breathless, as he loosens his watch and works his hands out of the sleeves. "You wouldn't have to ever have another day like you had today."

"I know," you say as you wrap around each other, mouths fastened together, moving like you have years rather than just the next handful of moments. Him the living sea, rolling over you, the shore, a dead thing made of dirt. I can take care of you, his hands whisper. Your atrophied heart clenches, and, for a moment, you wish it could be true.

A car door slams outside. 

He pulls away and looks at you, ugly realization dawning in his eyes. "Oh," he nods grimly. "I get it."

He sighs raggedly and shakes his head as pushes you off of his lap gently. His hands a soft suggestion, unlike Sukuna's demanding touch. You feet hit the floor just as the first splinters fly from the doorframe.

How many kicks, you think bizarrely of a little cartoon owl with a sucker. How many kicks does it take to break down Nanami Kento's door? Three. Three kicks.

You are frantically feeling in between the couch cushions for your discarded top when Sukuna shoulders through the broken door. 

"It was unlocked, jackass," you hear Nanami say, "That's gonna be expens-" then a couple of thumps, the soft crush of bone and cartilage, and the loud thud of a body crumpling to the floor.

Trying to pull Sukuna off of him is like trying to move a mountain. You pull at him and scream in your panic sharpened voice, "Please, Kuna, stop! Please stop! Don't hurt him!" Although, you can see that it's too late for that. 

You reel backward when he rounds on you, but you need not worry about falling. He catches you by the hair and pulls you up. He looms over you, his vastness swallowing you like his pupils swallow the blood of his irises in the blue flickering light from the television. He is every inch the monster you know he can be. "Don't fucking call me that, woman," he growls into your ear.

You crumple to the floor when he lets you go. "Been too soft on you, brat," he toes at Nanami's limp form before stalking to the coffee table. "Gonna have to re-educate you. Lucky i don't just fucking destroy you both." He picks up an empty wine bottle and hurls it at the TV. The crash has you flinching as the screen spiderwebs and the speakers sputter. His belt buckle clinks as he unfastens it and your cunt drools like pavlov's dogs at the sound. You wonder if he knows how completely he has you.

You watch wordlessly as he pulls himself out of the fly of his jeans and pisses all over the flickering set. He turns his gaze on you and tucks himself away. The leather of his belt hisses against denim as he pulls it free of the loops.

"Now what am I going to do with you," he says, stalking towards you, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily trailing the belt behind him. The grin on his face is cold and sharp as a knife edge. He must be feeling better already. 

He brushes past you and seats himself on the arm of the couch.  Elbow on the back of it, he leans his cheek against his fist as he looks down at you. "Come here," he says.

You look over at Nanami's limp form. You can just see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

"Don't look at him. He can't help you. Never could. Now, I won't say it again. Come. Here."

You begin to get to your feet.

"No," he says, eerily calm, and you freeze midway to your feet. "Crawl."

"Come on Kuna," you coo, voice sticky sweet. "I'm really sorr-"

"Shut the fuck up. Nobody wants to hear your sorry's. Now get over here."

So you drop back to your knees and start to crawl. You sway your hips and smile up at him, ever defiant. He snorts and shakes his head. "You are such a little slut."

"Stand up," he says, when you arrive at his ankles. Even seated as he is on the arm of the couch, he towers over you when you obey. 

"Strip," he says, then, "faster," when you are to slow to peel your clothes away. He leans forward and slides his fingers through your folds. 

"Wet," he says.

"For Nanami," you retort, only half a lie. You are still mad at him, after all. 

His hand flies so quick you barely see him move before the back of his hand connects with your cheek. Seeing stars, you're reeling backwards, but he catches you, draws you across his lap. The belt burns across the fat of your ass as he brings it down on you over and over in fast, hard bursts. Tears sting your eyes as you squirm and bite at your bottom lip, but he's strong and has little trouble holding you in place with his one free hand clasping your wrists together behind your back. 

"Told you not to fuck with me," he's growling, and your pussy clenches around nothing. You wish he would just fuck you already.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sob, "Please, please, please!"

Finally, he relents, the belt slithers to the floor. "Are you really sorry?" He asks, his voice softer now, some of the aggression soothed out of it by the burst of violence. "Actions speak louder than words, you know." You fail at biting back a moan as he suddenly shoves his fingers inside you, growling as he feels you clenching around him. "You want my cock?" He asks. Craning your neck you look up at him over your shoulder, nodding frantically.

"On your knees then," he says, releasing you. 

"You're a sick fuck, you know," he says as you crumple to your knees between his feet. "Might even be worse than me." He lets his jeans pool around his ankles before stepping out of them. Grasping the base of his cock, already rigid and leaking, he smacks it lightly against your cheek, smearing your feverish skin with precum. "That's why he-" he nods behind him at Nanami's unconscious body, "-could never do it for you."

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, which you drag along his tip murmuring, "can you take this off too-" you tug at the sleeve of his hoodie, "-I wanna see you."

He grunts and pulls it over his head, groaning as you pull his cockhead into your mouth, tongue tracing his slit, the ridge if his glans. You know that he is at least partly right, you are sick. But you wonder if he brings it out of you. Could you be different with Nanami? You think of his mouth on your neck, your hands on his chest.

"If you want to see me, open your eyes," Sukuna says, something jagged in his tone, like suspicion. So you look up at him, run your fingers up the fronts of his thighs to the dips of his abdominals as you take his cock deeper. Your eyes follow the lines of tattoos outlining his chest until you find his face, jaw slack, eyes heavy as he looks down at you.

You release his dick with a wet pop, sucking in air. "You're perfect."

"I didn't say stop," he grasps, fisting a hand in your hair, using his other to pry your mouth open unnaturally wide until you are drooling down his tattooed wrist, eyes shiny with tears as you look up at him. He slides his cock between your lips, controlling the angle of your head with his hands, sinking in until your nose is pressed against his stomach. "Told you to fucking be home when I got home," he growls, smashing ypur face against his groin so that you can't breathe.

You sputter and gag around his cock as he stays fully seated inside you. "Ssh, ssh it's okay," he soothes as his fingers wrap around the soft column of your throat, feeling the bulge of his length there. "Oh, fuck, baby, you are really lucky you feel so fucking good, 'cause you really fucking pissed me off," he moans as uses your hair to bob your head up and down on his cock until your jaw burns and tears spill out of your eyes. "You really are sorry, huh?"

You do your best to signal in the affirmative as he continues to fuck your throat, but you find you have little control at the moment, so you just hope he gets the message. When he finally pulls out, and stuffs the strings of drool that stretch between your lips and his cock back into your mouth with his thumb, you nod, gasping. "I am. I am sorry," you manage to sob out in broken syllables around his prodding fingers.  Although your brain is a little too wine blurry and cock drunk to accurately recall exactly what you're sorry for. And weren't you mad at him for something? 

Your muddled thoughts are interrupted as he yanks you up and bends you over the arm of the couch as if you weigh nothing. "Tell me who you belong to, baby," he growls as you feel the fat head of his cock bully it's way between your folds from behind. "Because it seems like you forgot."

"You, I belong to you," you answer dutifully, drawing out the final vowel into a long moan as he sheaths himself inside of you with one hard snap of his hips. 

"Fuck," he growls, twitching inside of you, "say it again."

"I'm yours, Sukuna," you whine, peering over your shoulder to look at him. 

"Yeah," he moans, rolling his hips into you, his cock dragging along every tender aching inch inside you. "You're mine," he pounds into you faster, harder, pulling you back into him by your hair. "I'm gonna stuff you so full of cum, baby." He always talks so much when he's fucking you. Now he's babbling something about making you pregnant. You're too stupid with lust to even begin to reflect on what an almost comically bad idea that is, although you suppose you understand it. Another way for him to stake his claim.  Then his teeth are bruising your shoulder, marking you, and you're arching into him, your walls beginning to flutter around the sweet, familiar shape of him.

He pulls out as soon as he feels you starting to squeeze down on him. "Want you to look at me when you cum," he rasps. You guess you know why.  You make it a point not to look over his shoulder as he threads his arms under your hips, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist before he impales you again. 

"Oh fuck, Sukuna," you whine as he stretches you, a perfect pain.

"Say it again," he murmurs, pistoning up into you with more speed now, but less control as he nears his end. 

"Yours," you manage to choke out before he slips a hand around your throat, stealing your breath, making your vision darken as you seize up around him, milking him as he spills inside of you. He is clawing and biting at you everywhere he can reach as he devours your lips, pouring a muffled string of curses into your mouth. You wonder vaguely, if any small part of him cares about you, or if he only cares to own you.

You are intertwined, leaning against the wall, twitching and gasping. You're too busy murmuring nonsense into each other's ears to notice when Nanami sits up and slides the remaining wine bottle off of the coffee table. The one the two of you didn't quite finish off. 

You've got your chin hooked over Sukuna's shoulder, your fingertips tracing the circles tattooed there and he's panting, "I want to tell you something," when you see Nanami walk around the couch, holding the bottle by the neck. 

"I don't know why I could never say it before," Sukuna whispers as Nanami raises the bottle. You lock eyes with him, but you don't say anything. 

"I-" There's a soft thud as the bottle connects with the back of Sukuna's head. His eyes roll back as he falls away from you and hits the floor hard. 

Nanami barely looks at you as he shoulders Sukuna's limp body and carries him outside. You are pulling on your sweats when he comes back, gathers the man's clothes and tosses them outside. You cross your arms over your bare chest as he walks past you into the kitchen. "Get dressed and get out, please. I'll get you an uber," he says, pressing a bag of frozen peas to his face. He sinks into the couch, wine bottle between his knees and uncorks it with his thumb. His back is to you.

"Nanami?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't find my top. Maybe you're sitting on it?"

He sighs and leans forward to set the bottle and the makeshift icepack on the coffee table. Then he's wrapping his shirt around your shoulders, it smells like the cedar and the ocean. You look up at him through damp lashes, bruises already starting to bloom in the hollows of his eye.

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks," he says before he returns to the couch.

Sukuna is standing, although weaving, in his boxers, looking dazedly at his pants when you shoulder through the broken door.

"Hey," he mumbles, stumbling forward. "Where the hells my belt?"

Nanami sinks back into the couch, frozen peas pressed to his face. Takes a long pull off the bottle before deciding that's probably not going to help much. He stares at the broken TV screen, the flickering bars of light reflecting in his eyes.

Maybe after he works this job a few more years, he could just start over somewhere else. 

Like Malaysia.

Yeah.

That'd be nice.

[junedenim]

to say good night

sleep can happen anywhere

warnings: fluff, smut, blowie, piv, and raspberries

word count: 3.6k

You watched him make the bed. He was always slow and careful with this kind of thing. It was rhythmic, second nature to tuck the duvet under the mattress and fluff the pillows just right. It was weird for a man to be so careful after sex. The sheets had been a mess covered in each of you. He still spills out of you now, trapped by your underwear. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself but got trapped in the doorway watching this meticulous routine as he changed the navy blue sheets to baby blue ones. You wonder if he has any different coloured sheets or if they are all blue.

He's fixing the nightstand now. His alarm clock that your hand pushed off when he was going down on you. His spine curves, little rivets showing through the skin of his bare back. You get to drag your hand down it tonight when you lie side by side and go to bed with one another. Not just fucking bed but sleeping bed.

And he's so lovely. You're not sure you've ever seen something, especially a man so lovely as he sits down on the bed to fix the time on the clock. His eyes shine back at the glaring red digits. Your hand curls around the doorframe, trying not to give yourself away to him. He's so cautious when he knows he's being watched, but here, he's loose, uncaring, and serene, so serene.

His hair is a fluff mess. One that swirls and makes cascading waterfalls as it tries to fall forward on his face. He slightly jumps at the beeping noise the clock makes and a giggle escapes you, impossible to hold back at his cute, jolting, meticulous, lovely, serene self. No hand covering your mouth hides the giggle. His eyes snap up with the fear he's been caught out like you've accidentally caught him masturbating in his childhood bedroom, not fully grown fixing his alarm clock.

But then he releases, not everything, but just enough to lightly chuckle. "You snooping on me?"

Part of you wants to shrink behind the bathroom door and hide but his laughter is solaceful. "I'm just going to the bathroom," you say as you slowly shut the door.

He laughs, this time more boisterous. It's easy for him to let go when he's making fun of you. "Uh-huh, yeah, right."

"I swear!" You yell back through the closed door as you drop your panties and wipe him out of you (disgusting but not and that almost disgusts you more about how you can be so affected by a person that you start to cherish their semen) and dispose of it. Your cheeks are flushed red in the mirror and you splash water to temper the fire burning its way out.

Exiting the bathroom, he stands by the dresser having covered that gracious bare back with a T-shirt. It makes you want to yell at him for the crime he's committed. It was horrible that he covered his butt with his boxers but this. "Why'd you put a shirt on?"

Alex once again jumps at a surprising sound. He turns around and smirks. "Why'd you put a shirt on?" He counters.

Fair. But it's his shirt and your underwear, isn't that what most guys find sexy? He's in his pajamas, very cutely, but five minutes ago he was coming inside you so a tad more explicit behaviour tonight shouldn't be out of the question. So, if he needs something from you then you'll trail your hands down the shirt, fiddle with the bottom—teasing, of course—and take the garment off, dropping it at his feet as an offering.

His lust-filled eyes work as encouragement, straying you from an insecurity. His hands move from his side and meet the bottom of his shirt. He's slow, much more than you were. You ripped the Band-Aid off, and he's easing it slowly away from the skin. He nearly gets trapped in its collar and has to twist his head back and forth to withdraw from it. Then, he tosses it at your feet, a slight chuckle of embarrassment rippling through him. "Now get in bed," he tells you.

You look toward the pristine sight, something off of HGTV or an Ikea catalogue. "But I don't want to ruin it," you candidly reply. It even has one of those small useless pillows sitting there for merely display purposes.

He walks toward you. "Get in bed," he says with a smirk. He pats your ass giving a light squeeze to your right ass cheek before heading into the bathroom. You look behind you at the closed bathroom door and inch your way to the bed, carefully taking off the small useless pillow. You pull back the duvet and slide into the sea of blue and then you wait.

You see the light spilling out from the bottom crack of the bathroom door. You hear him turn on the sink, the sound of him brushing his teeth. The water shuts off but he doesn't come out immediately. He takes his time and you wish you could peek in on whatever he's doing. Washing his hands, styling his hair, psyching himself up in the mirror, whatever it may be you want to be witness to it.

The door clicks open and he walks out, making his way to the bed and under the covers. He pulls the blankets over both of you and moves close by means of huddling for warmth. Your nipples rub against the blanket, shielding them from his view, but not his imagination. "Are you cold?" He asks.

You shake your head but tighten your hold on the blanket. You are a little cold but mostly nervous, just a tad. He nods and you can see the hesitance spilling from him. There's something intimate about sex but in comparison to this, it's nothing. The personal laying of your figures side-by-side. Your boobs are exposed and his chest is so close your palm can almost touch it. Instead, you two sit in silence, scared to be the first to speak because it's the first time you've done this with each other. 

Because it's not just spending the night or a hook-up, it's something far greater that you can't name. Something you want to work so badly it could kill you. Because he's looking at you like that: eyes warm and shiny, perfect for falling into. Him. Him. Because he's right up against you without touching you and now you have to relinquish yourself to him in a far more vulnerable way than sex. But the idea of falling asleep in his arms seems so nice that you can't bear any distance, even if it is small. 

"Do you always make the bed like that?" You ask him. You relax down into the pillow, turning onto your side to face him more clearly.

His smile grows warmer and it makes your insides feel less cold. "No. I'm neat but I'm not that neat."

"Why'd you do it that way then? Special occasion?" You smile back knowingly. He's always been one for silent gestures. Only the little things you notice way down the line. The little things you know now and the ones you have yet to discover.

He blushes, turning bashfully away from you. "Maybe. Yeah. Thought I'd make it look more homely."

You giggle, not because it's very funny, but because he's very charming. Enough to make any girl giddy. "It looked more like a display room to me but it was very pretty to watch."

Alex turns onto his side now, smirking in such a delight that it pierces through you. "Yeah. And you like to do that stalking thing?"

You bite your lip from mild embarrassment and in an attempt to hide to smile he's forcing increasingly on your face. "You're very cute to watch. I'm sure you know that."

"Well..." He trails off but his hand moves under the covers, landing on the curve of your side, just under your ribs. He's delicate, not trying to make a big deal out of it, the same with everything he does. But you notice. It's hard not to notice that warm touch.

"I don't even think I made my bed this morning," you tell him. Not that it matters much when you're lying in his.

He chuckles and gradually leans closer and closer. "I like to be organized." That's plenty nice under these nice sheets but his lips are far greater as he comes toward yours. He hovers before latching on. It's a smooth grip, nothing harsh as you lock lips. Everything about it flows.

His hand moves up your figure, his thumb lightly caressing the bottom of your boob. Your hand steadies on his shoulder. He feels firm as your hand grazes down his arm before shifting over to his chest, feeling him beneath your hand.

The kissing becomes harsher, not aggressive, but determined passion from both sides. You were drawn together and it felt impossible to ignore, even as things became more rushed. You rolled over and he followed with his body on top. His hand massaged your side and your bodies smushed together, your boobs stuck in between each other in that small space.

"You just changed the sheets," you mumble in the chaos of attached lips.

His lips strayed, moving down from your lips, kissing your chin, and down the column of your neck on that tender part of your throat. "Fuck that. I don't care," Alex kissed into your skin. He paid tribute to your right collarbone, briefly sticking out his tongue and running a line across it. He kissed your shoulder and moved down further to your breasts. 

He licks his way to the nipple, already sensitive from the cold and rubbing up against him. Suddenly, he makes a loud smooching noise and blows a raspberry on it. It's ticklish, erupting impossible to avoid laughter as you push his head away from the affected spot.

"Stop it," you manage to get out. "So much for being sensual."

Alex kisses one of your ribs like it's him and it may be what created you. "I never promised sensuality."

"I thought you making out with my breasts implied that." He laughs and kisses the untouched boob. His lips hover like he's threatening to do it to the other one. "I'll leave if you do it again. What if someone did that to your dick?"

He thinks about it, tossing his head back and forth. "It'd probably feel good." His eyes look away like he’s imagining the pleasure.

Your hands reached down, snaking in between your two bodies. You grab a hold of the waistband of his boxers, snapping it against his skin. "You want to bet?" You push him onto his back, gazing down at him.

"You don't know men very well if you think the threat of a blowjob is gonna scare them off."

Still, you descend him. Your fingers dance on his hip bone. He delightfully protrudes onto you. He conflicts with himself whether to revel in the feeling with his head on the pillow or watch you as you tease him. His eyes remain on you as your pointer finger grasps onto the elastic of his boxers. Edging him in anticipation. A dance between the dainty and the robust. 

You send him a mocking grin, displaying your teeth, latching onto that waistband, dragging it slowly, revealing the bottom portion of his stomach before stopping. You kissed the newly exposed skin as he sucks in a breath like he hasn't taken one in minutes. You press your face into him. Your nose inhaling him into you, the smell of him plain, only a simple bar of soap has passed this area. Yet, however plain, it calms you. You wish to rest your head here for a little while, maybe fall asleep here because he isn't restless here. This is where things calm.

You resume. Your hands drift further down, dipping into his boxers, giving a slight touch to him. Your hands are cold against the warm skin. It might turn him on even more. Finally, you pull his boxers down fully, letting his erection pop out on display. Your hand grabs a hold of it. He shivers from the cold, anticipation, and the soon-to-be relief.

You hold him carefully in your hand like you're observing him scientifically. You need to cover every surface with your eyes, every vein needs to be noted, and the way he twitches should be put in the records. "Come on," he just barely mutters.

It's the complete opposite from earlier when he was quick with you. When you were messy with each other. When alarm clocks were pushed on the floor and sheets were left with no choice but to wash. You're careful now, if not, torturous. Alas, you lick up the side of him to the tip. Your tongue grazes over the slit, enjoying the way it makes him stiff. 

You seal a kiss on it before your mouth covers the top of him. You suck on him, pleasurable for both him and you. Then, you blow a raspberry on him. You wish to capture the way he wiggles around and groans but you're too busy laughing at him. "How was that?"

Alex brings a hand to his head. He rubs his fingers between his eyebrows to calm that distress in him. "Not very sensual." You share a laugh before taking him off guard with how quickly you return to the task at (or in your) hand. 

You stroke him, moving the salvia from the top down to lubricate the bottom. Your mouth covers him again, but this time takes him fully in a slow controlled manner. The pressure pushes against your throat as your nose rubs that spot on his stomach again. You pull yourself off, wiping the string of spit that connects you. Your hand continues its work as you kiss his hip, then the top of his thigh, then his pelvis, then his penis.

His hand stops you from taking him completely in your mouth again. "Get on me."

"What?" You question.

"Let me fuck you again." He's almost begging, his eyes fluttering shut and his grasp on your upper arm strengthening. "Please."

"What about the bed?" It was so nice moments ago but the blankets have been thrown and the sheets exposed, a trace of your spit already covering them.

He shakes his head on the pillow, trying not to lose the moment. He pinches that glabella. "Let's just fuck on the fucking floor."

You hesitate on the bed but he's quick, already has his knees pressed on the cold wood floors. He reaches a hand up to you, which you take, kicking your feet out and meeting him on the floor. "I'm gonna get a splinter from this."

He laughs, placing his hands on your waist, his thumb stroking up and down. "How do you want to do this?" He doesn't hesitate, dragging your panties off as soon as he can.

"I don't know. It was your idea. Just fuck me, I guess."

"Okay," he mutters like he's still trying to figure it out himself. He looks around, trying to place the space on the floor, and then kisses you, overpowering you. You're on your back, your shoulders grazing the floor's rug. You could start a fire with the way your skin brushes against it. You clutch his neck to grasp on something desperately as he moves himself through your folds, soaked up in you.

Now, it's sensual as he eases slowly into you. It's barely anything but then it's barely nothing. Everything is touched and you were just like this less than an hour ago but it already feels different. The way his eyes land on you is much softer and his touch is caring. There's no rushing, roughness, or scratching. It's tender, graceful, and clutching. He's powering but not overtly. His hips snap but not aggressively.

It's fulfilling. He kisses every nerve ending in you. It's making love in all those stupid, cheesy, romance movie kind of ways but it's him and it's you, something yet to fully be explored and you get to be a first-hand witness to every touch he lands on you. His thumb strokes you so carefully but it lights you up completely. 

You arch up into him and you know he's much closer than you are, so, you reach up and smooth your hand over his cheek before wrapping your arm around his neck. You whisper into his ear for him to let go and give himself over to you. It's late and tiring, it's like falling asleep in each other's arms as he lets go into you.

Everything in him is sensitive. He shudders as everything comes over him. He buries his head into your neck, rubbing his nose against your jugular. Your hand runs through his hair as he groans the last bits of relief into your skin. It's content. Your heart rates settle against one another as if you're beating in time with one another. 

Alex starts to move again, even slower than before, but he's not willing to let this go. He doesn't like it just being about him. He doesn't like all that attention. So, he gives it, gives it all over, fucking you with the remnants of him still inside you. 

His overstimulation settles as he begins to rush forward. The thumb stroking picks up right over your clit and it's cold hands on warm flesh. It's so divine, an enhancement. It's not just a regular touch, it's an imprint as the cold seeps into you and he drives himself into you. He groans and you moan but it's all whispers for just one another. No soul will ever hear each other this way because it's never been like this before and you're not sure it will ever be like this again, even with him. It's a sliver of time for just the two of you.

Each of your breathing grows heavy and your hips lift. It all moves quicker and you can feel the rug burn forming on your skin as you come. It overrides anything. You clutch onto him in any way possible. Your hands in his hair, your legs around his waist, him still sitting inside you. It's a release. Completely. 

When everything relaxes just enough, your grasp loosens and he rolls beside you onto his back. You tilt your head slightly up to look at his profile, even with barely any light in the room it's scenic. It's like looking out at the ocean from the cliff. 

He has steadied himself when he turns his head over to meet your eyes. "Good?" It could mean a number of things. If you're okay, if the sex was okay, if you're alright staying here on the floor forever.

Either way, you are. "Good," you answer in the affirmative. You reach out to him, pushing his hair back so you can get the best view of his eyes. "You?"

Alex nods. His eyes are obviously tired, fluttering with the wind. "We should get back in bed."

"Or stay here for a minute more," you suggest because the moment will be gone, ending forever, the second you stand up from this small cocoon of space.

He doesn't reject the idea. His body is so relaxed against the wood. "When I was younger," he tells you, "I used to sleep on the floor because I was scared of my bed."

It's a privilege to know these small stories about him. To run your fingers through his hair as he tells you a childhood story that has him smiling. "Why?" You ask.

Alex shifts closer, his arm landing over your waist. He tugs you closer to him as if he wants to absorb you, live in one body with you. It almost feels like that in this small space where your breaths duel one another. "I don't know. It was my first big kid bed. I think I thought monsters lived in there."

You squint. "So you slept closer to where they lived under your bed?"

He chuckles and gives a light squeeze to your side. "I was four, I had no logic."

You recall, "I used to just sleep in my parents' room. Might've caused their divorce." Your hand drifts away from his hair and down to his back, at long last rubbing down his spine, feeling those notches in him. If he sleeps on his stomach, you might wake him up tomorrow by kissing your way down those vertebrae.

"Why?" He questions just like you.

"They could never have sex 'cause I was in there all the time." There's laughter shared, an increased amount, maybe because you just had sex and you'll have plenty more sex but for now you'll lie here. You want to squeeze him in between your fingers, pinch a piece off of him, and carry it around with you in your bag, in your pocket, in your skin.

His hand moves to your back, moving along your spine, massaging the muscles around it. "I walked in on them once. I think I'll take your side of things," he said. He pulled a disgusted face before dusting a smile. "I thought they were wrestling."

Your laughter is loud, infectious and it makes him laugh too and you'll get up off the floor at some point but for now, you'd like to stay here in a world with just the two of you.

*

a/n: i like this one. maybe because i was more relaxed when i wrote it. excuse yet another 'perfect sense' title, it just fits so well. thanks, bye.

[backpackingspace]

Okay but consider post Canon over protective Athena who is sick to death of her most devout being raped.

Athena sticking close to the whole family and promising penelope that she'll keep a close eye on odysseus the first time he has to go into the market and penelope can't go with him. (She was going to go anyway. She's never actually going to let any of them out of her sight ever again. And it's an easy promise to her dearest weaver who seems so distressed to have odysseus leaving her side.)

Athena fully manifesting in the market when someone grabs odysseus with godly flashes of snakes and owls and the drums of war to scream /release him/ (odysseus is feeling indulgent for both his patron and his wife it's so cute that they're this worried it's not like he couldn't defend himself just fine. Especially from whatever poor fuck just grabbed him who definitely doesn't deserve a goddess screaming in his face. Hes trying so hard not to laugh if he did athena would send him flying.)

Athena telling all the other gods that yes she knows odysseus is the favorite barbie doll she choose him well after all and to back the fuck off if any of them bother him again they will have made an enemy of her.

Athena disguising odysseus only as an old beggar from here on out instead of an irresistibly tall and handsome man. Because she saw how uncomfortable nausicaa's attention made him.

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

i know that when carlo suddenly decided that he needs to marry guy made a whole list in his head n like had a deadlines n shit. like it was some kind of a task he needed to do

[suffercerebral]

me having gone to bed at 6 am every day for the past week and generally spiraling mentally while rotting in bed waking up this morning: a 4 mile hike in the heat is a really good idea right now, and while we're at it let's start like 3 art projects

[my5hiningstars]

.

[robotpussy]

when you express your feelings to one of your parents and they take it as a personal attack..................

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

this is a very venty post don't mind me :D

that nintendo direct was so horrible.

it was literally like 80 percent remakes and remasters.

never in my life have i seen an announcement video exist just to say "every game you've ever known since the 90s is being remade/remastered, sorry, we ran out of originality".

literally like all the video game market is anymore is remakes and the movie industry is just as bad.

the nso releases are fine because they're not like, remakes taking up full game slots. they're old games that are being made accessible and that's great... but there's no need to remake this many games when they can do that. remakes used to be rare. remember stuff like the wii u shop and stuff? with all the games they had on those things? now it's a tiny selection and everything else is a remake :/

also I feel like a lot of new rpgs are just like... lowkey fe knockoffs now instead of original rpgs.

i'm happy for like... two existing remakes, but one of them is mario rpg which people wanted waaaaAAAAAYYYY before the remake and remaster era, and the other is baten kaitos which im not actually happy about remaster-wise (the updated ui is trash, they took out very specific charms of the original ui), just happy that it will get more recognition/notice from people since it was never popular.

they also completely removed the english voice acting which like okay yeah it wasn't always that great but the voices fit perfectly and it wasn't as bad as fans meme on it for! it just sounded like they were talking through a tube and that was actually the worst part of it lol.

someone suggested to me that they may have just lost the data for it, but idk. i wish they'd just admit that somehow if it was the case, because it bugs me that the english audio is just completely gone when ultimately i really liked it. i wanted the game to be accessible to newer players, sure, but i also wanted the english audio there. ig that's because i grew up with it and i liked it, but it's still such a bummer for me!

paper mario being put on the nso and tyd getting a whole remaster does make me sad tho bc it feels like they're leaving the original in the dust when it was so good. if you're gonna do tyd, at least do them both.

good for innersloth though, i'm sure they never imagined being on a nintendo direct. they're the real winners here.

[inkedlove]

so frustrating when you wanna be someone's friend and they just are not cooperating. I'M INTERESTED IN YOU AS A PERSON. PLEASE INTERACT WITH ME.

[slippery-minghus]

x

[loverboybrightsideghost]

they should invent a way to ask if you have felt suicidal or have had suicidal thoughts at the doctor when they ask where you'll answer truthfully. i am fine and i always fight the suicidal thoughts but i went to the urgent care the other day and they asked and i said no no nothing like that. but i lied! of course i have! i've been vaguely fantasizing about getting hit by a car the past few days!!! i truly hate suicide for Reasons, it makes me incredibly sad and distressed, and for myself sometimes i don't even realize it's started creeping into my head again (i'm fine i genuinely promise) but like. as much as i hate it, it's there in some of my friends and me and i have to wonder about the fact that "yeah, but doesn't everyone at least a little bit?" isn't the right answer.

[jimingyue]

Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

🖋️ meowful-musings Follow

🕊️ birdwatching Follow

what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine

💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204

op wheres the natural feeding option

🌲 outdoorsy Follow

you guys are getting fed?

#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look

7,192 notes

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3

🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow

as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3

#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....

154,688 notes

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right

❤️ loving-paws284 Follow

um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...

🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow

OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD

🐟 tunafeesh Follow

also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks

anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse

#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now

32,456 notes

🍃 naturalliving Follow

BORN TO DIE

WORLD IS A FUCK

猫神 Kill Em All 1989

I am trash cat

410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS

#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly

48,971 notes

🎣 salmonpurina Follow

can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther

#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks

34 notes

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!

🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow

evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

make your own pawst

💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721

umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...

👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow

Nyaverage shelter cat behavior

#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up

545,460 notes

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo

💡 discourse-meows Follow

hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

1. i was making. a joak

2. i'm literally gay???

#literally what's your pawblem

7 notes

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

i know you fuckers are lying

🍭 gaykittens Follow

this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

shut the heull up

988,653 notes

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise

🐁 ladymouser Follow

op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us

[devilmaydick]

I WANNA PULL MY FUCKING TEETH OUT!!!!

[dokjaism]

why is reading men's comments on the internet always so exhausting. do u not think what you're saying

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.