#I just have to make sure not to push her too hard

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

reader getting injured because she slipped in the shower, sukuna has to help her get to the hospital, where reader gets some pain meds making her kinda high. she confesses to him while being high

content: fluff, crack. reader is in the hospital and blood is named but there’s no gore. yuuji and sukuna are siblings. i love sukuna and i need him in my life so bad… someone PLS be my sukuna

“So, just to be sure: one margherita for me and one with sausage for you?” Asks you Yuuji while putting on his shoes.

“Yup,” you answer, popping the p. “Can I just have a quick shower while you’re gone?”

“Uhhh, sure, let me go ask Sukuna,” your friend tells you smiling and rushing up the stairs of his home.

You and Yuuji have been best friends since forever. You remember the first time you both cried your eyes out at the park in kindergarten because a lizard had just eaten the ladybug you had been watching for half an hour. Since that moment you’ve been attached at the hip, your homework filled afternoons in high school turning to pizza nights when both of your work schedules allowed you to now.

“Big bro said sure,” comes Yuuji’s voice from the end of the staircase.

“I did in fact not say that,” growls Sukuna from behind him. Sukuna is the same age as you and Yuuji, but he always seemed older. Sometimes wiser, but sure as hell more annoying than his brother. Hotter, too, but that’s a topic for another time.

“I didn’t ask you to join me, big boy,” you say sarcastically, fake smiling. He crosses his arms, leveling you with a bored look.

“Yuu, if you aren’t fast enough you’re not going to find her corpse when you get back,” he tells his brother, still staring you up and down. Yuuji sighs, tired, then opens the front door.

“Make sure to not kill each other. I have a shift after this, stop bickering. You two act like siblings more than I do with you, Sukuna,” he reprimands you both. You and his brother roll your eyes at the same time, then you push him out, closing the door in his face. You turn around and find yourself face to face with Sukuna's menacing grin.

“You have 5 minutes before I come knock at the bathroom door with a kitchen knife, doll.”

You’re scrubbing yourself clean with a random pine body wash you found in the shower when the playlist you put before entering the stall stops. You’re annoyed, because now you’re forced to listen to Sukuna’s ugly songs from the bathroom wall (that he’s blasting just to annoy you), so you try to reach your phone. You’re on your tippy toes, not wanting to get out completely, when you trip and fall since you didn’t wash the soap away from your body. You bump your head on the sink in front of the shower, hard, and you muffle a whine. You close your eyes as hard as you can and open the shower head with the room spinning inside your skull.

“Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes or you’ll fall… fuck, it hurts so bad,” you tell yourself while you speed run the end of the shower and blindly put your shirt over your head. It’s not the first time you've bumped your head on something, you were a crazy kid, so you’ve learned to open your eyes only when you physically can’t function anymore or you'll start seeing stars immediately. You barely get to put your pants on when you notice your forehead feels wet, and you didn't even wash your hair. As you get out of the bathroom wobbling you touch your head. When you open your eyes, you see blood on your hand. The room spins. You barely have time to look up and watch Sukuna coming out of his bedroom frowning before seeing black dots in your vision.

You try opening your eyes, but they feel so heavy. Your body feels rather stiff. What's this smell?

"Oh, she's waking up," a female voice softly says from somewhere next to your right.

"Thank you, miss, I got it from here," a rough voice responds.

"Make sure she drinks a lot, and keep a couple of painkillers near you. The scans show she doesn't have any internal damage, but she hit her head pretty hard. She's going to have a big bruise for a couple of days," the female voice continues. You hear the man making a sound of affirmation.

There’s a brief pause. "Your wife is very lucky. It's not every day that a man takes a woman up four flights of stairs by simple arm strength," the woman concludes sweetly, getting out of the room after he responds with a grunt and closing the door behind her.

"Your ass is lucky I lied or they wouldn’t have let me in, dumbass. Open your eyes, I know you're awake," the voice you now recognise as Sukuna says, getting closer. You try opening your eyes, managing to focus your gaze on him. Everything feels so fluffy, apart from your throat. You cough, and you think you see him rolling his eyes before getting you a glass of water and sitting beside you on a chair. You gulp it down, still feeling fuzzy, then you blink a couple of times.

You gape at him. He's cute. “You look funny,” you say, poking his cheek. He’s so squishy. Like a little mochi. A little mochi filled with strawberries. Strawberries and cream. He slaps your finger away, and you put on a hurt expression. He huffs.

“Why am I here?” You ask. The more you look at him, the more heads he seems to have.

“You fell in the bathroom,” he says, straightening up from the chair and covering your right leg with the duvet the hospital gave you. You raise an eyebrow at his gesture, and he just rolls his eyes again. “Don’t want you to also catch a cold. Yuuji would kill my ass.” You just hum.

“I caught ya when you already fainted. Yuuji came back home and panicked, but he couldn’t back out from work, so I was stuck with your ass. Took ya here but the elevator broke down. And I ate your pizza, by the way. All this is gonna cost ya 200 dollars, cash,” he lists, sprawling back onto his chair, deadpan.

Silence engulfs the both of you, and you don’t know what to say. You heard what the nurse said and you are searching for a way to bring it up, but the words in your mind are all scrambled. It’s probably the morphine that you realise they gave you, IV still attached to your left arm. You open your mouth to say something along the lines of “I’d like to thank your gym membership for this,” but instead the words that leave your mouth are-

“I’d like you to be my husband.”

His eyes snap to your widening ones. “Wait that wasn’t what-“

“Huh?” He just replies, dumbfounded. You panic, waving your hands in the air between you two.

“No, what I meant was- like- thank you for getting me up here- can you stop looking at me with your weird 16 eyes?- not that you aren’t attractive! You’re super hot! But that’s not- oh god,” you whimper, rubbing your face, noticing how you’re just making the situation worse. You prepare yourself for his snarky comeback, closing your eyes, but everything is silent.

Suddenly, you hear him snort. You crack your eyes open, touching the big cotton gauze they put on your forehead. You must be hearing things. It’s definitely the morphine, there’s no way Sukuna is actually laughing.

“Yes, I’m laughing, doll,” he says, chuckling. You widen your eyes.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You cringe.

“Yeah, you kinda did,” he responds, smirking. You groan.

“Take me out to dinner first, damn,” he yawns. You jut your bottom lip out, frowning and giving him your middle finger. Then you register his words.

“You’d come? I mean, if I asked you out.”

“Well, if you’re paying,” he responds, shrugging. That’s still a yes, isn’t it?

He ruffles up his pink hair, black t-shirt straining across his bicep. You can’t contain the urge to poke the muscle.

“Stop touching me like I’m made of play dough, doll,” he sighs, slightly less annoyed than 5 minutes ago.

“Would you let me play with you if you were made of play dough?” you ask, words a little slurred, still poking his arm, and he flexes it. “Don’t show off,” you mumble.

“You’re even weirder when you’re drugged,” he grins. He kinda looks scary, though. If you didn’t know him, you’d piss yourself by looking at his sharp teeth.

“But would you or would you not?” You whine, dragging out the last word, letting your hand fall next to you. He misses the warmth of your hand, so instead, he just puts his on your thigh. To be warm, of course. The room is so cold. Yeah. Definitely because of the missing heat.

“Yeah doll, I would.”

[beloveds-embrace]

so i have a habit of calling be love/babe/darling as a term of enderament (even in friendships) and was wondering how the dukedom guys would react to being called love or darling by the reader for the first time? I grt it probably wasnt as socially acceptable back then but the thought still plaques my mind

Historical accuracy who? We don’t know her shhh

Original post

But they’d love it! At first, you had tried really hard to stop yourself and semi-succeeded by only calling your maids like that. Your parents always hated that habit of yours, a leftover from your nanny’s own habit. They had warned you again and again and again to not let your tongue run, to keep your words polite and demure, only fallen women working in brothels would speak so freely.

And you did keep it under control for a good while; with your interactions few with John, you could remind yourself not to let your tongue loose and call him honey right off the bat when he simply calls you by your name. It’s harder with Kyle, you almost slip and call him darling, same with Johnny. With Simon it’s easier because on the times he visits, you leave him to his meetings with John and don’t bother them. (Or what you thought were business meetings at that time lol)

But once they start getting closer to you, it’s inevitable that the nicknames start slipping out.

“Kyle, darling-“ you are rushing today, and the words slip out before you realize. You just spare a thought to wonder why he’s frozen solid like that. “Where is my hairpin? I was so sure we left it on my vanity?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you say to Johnny when he brings you a platter of fresh deserts while working, not lifting your head from the papers in front of you other than to flash him a quick, grateful smile. You don’t notice how long it takes before Johnny stutters out a ‘welcome, m’lady’ and leaves you be.

“Simon, honey?” You ask on another occasion, voice too worried to notice what you’d called him. No maids around, and no one would question you calling you husband’s ‘close friend’ by his name in your home. “Is your leg okay? You are leaning on it too much, shall I call the doctor?” His silence is typical to you, but too busy fussing over his leg, you don’t see his face. Until you look up, eyes widening at his averted eyes and red-tipped ears. “Are you sick, Simon? You should be resting instead, you know?”

And at last… “John, love,” you sigh softly, controlling the tremble of your limbs. You look away from the newspaper, though you believe it should just be called a glorified gossip magazing, and close your eyes. Duke Price’s Duchess remains barren of a child! Is a divorce in their future? “It’s alright, it is what it is-“ you try to calm him.

Up until now, from the moment you’d both read the headline, John had been fuming. He wasn’t loud in his anger, but it was clear in his ticking jaw and clenched fists. So you expect him to continue in his anger.

“…I will deal with it.” John promises, voice low but no longer a rolling thunder. He sits down calmer now, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. He’s simply gazing at you, and his hands clench in the air before he sets them down on the table. “They won’t be slandering you any longer, wife. I promise you.”

You wish you could pinpoint what soothed him, but alas. Though you know he will try his best and maybe this news agency won’t make anymore comments like this about you, others will still continue to do so.

“It’s alright.” You repeat, but the words ring hollow and the smile on your face is empty. You push your plate away. “Now, if my husband permits it, I don’t believe I can stomach much more.”

“You never need my permission for such things,” he tells you; a sentiment he’d told you from the very first day. His face softens. “Go rest. Today, I will take care of everything that needs to be done.”

Darling, sweetheart, honey, love… they wonder if you know how much those words repeat in their minds.

[xazse]

mr compress x kittygirl hybrid! reader and i will worship the ground you walk 😣😣🙏🙏🙏

SWEET GIRL

Synopsis: Mr.Compress feels a certain inkling and intensity within himself.

Notes: this is great I know you just submitted this really recent but I wanted to let some of my fans know that I will now write for MHA!!! SEND ME SOME STUFF (don’t worry to my others who have sent jjk requests I’m working on them<333)) (sorry I just had to do something with the league and them meeting kitty girl)

Pairings: Mr.Compress x KittyGirl!Hybrid

Warnings: Smut + mean!League Members + rough handling + rough kissing + fingering + penetration + Fem!reader + Hybrid!reader

Mr.Compress had dragged in another stray: you he had known for at least a month before introducing you to the league. He found you digging through some rubble searching for food. He had felt extremely bad and just felt the need to take you.

So that’s what he did, he took you and you didn’t fight at all he just went, scooped you up. You looked a tad bit confused but when he gave you some food you were attached, he gave you plenty of opportunities to leave but every time you’d look around for him and once you found him you’d loop your arms with his and follow. It was downright adorable.

After some time had passed he chose to introduce you to his beloved league.

“She looks stupid, get her out.”

“That’s so mean Tomura! I think she looks adoreable!”

“You are very right Toga, Shigaraki isn’t used to cutesy things.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The blue haired man exclaimed from the bar.

“Why not give er’ a change Shigaraki? She could prove to be useful.” Spinner is always trying to be the middle man, Mr.Compress can certainly rely on him to get you in good with everyone.

“Useful my ass.” Dabi’s the one who speaks up.

“It wouldn’t be wise for you to talk, you’re in the same boat as her.” Shigaraki backfires.

“Tried to help you, dick.”

It hadn’t even been 40 minutes sitting as the league chats and discusses various things, Toga and Twice won’t leave you alone they insist on playing with your tail and rubbing your pointy ears: pushing them back just to watch them pop right back in place.

You aren’t complaining one bit, you love the extra attention they’re giving you, you can’t quite make out what they’re saying but nonetheless you know it’s nothing but sweet words minus twice sometimes blurting random crude things.

Leaving them proves to be the worst, “tears” are exchanged when Mr. Compress is ready to depart and you have to leave the new friends you just made. He reassures you that you’ll be able to see everyone again very soon.

Mr compress loves you a tenth fold you’re impressed by his tricks others find to be unfunny but you will sit for hours and watch him show off, clapping with the biggest smile on your cute face. It drives him mad to have his own personal fan.

It makes his cock throb when he’s doing one of his tricks and you look so curious to find out what’s next, he can’t focus on finishing it when you’re swooning right in front of him, he basically attacks you with sloppy kisses.

His thick tongue invades your mouth, his actions aren’t careful, he needs to be inside you right now.

He sits on his hind legs and traps you with his thighs on either side. He takes his hard cock out and jerks himself a few times right over your exposed stomach. you’ve all of a sudden gone shy on him, trying to avoid the intense way he’s staring down at you.

He stops for a moment to rid you of your bra, then your panties whilst also undressing himself fully too.

Even after all this time you’re still hiding your body from him like he hasn’t explored every single inch of you. He pays that no mind and moves to rub your cunt, he makes sure not to directly touch your clit.

He moves his skillful fingers around your lips, dipping in and out of your hole to get you used to the feeling. Sweet moans slip from your throat, your breath hitches everytime he so much as grazes the englared bud.

Impatient Compress starts full on fucking you with his fingers, he has to use a little of his strength to keep your leg nice and still for him. You’re full on moaning, it feels so damn good, the way his fingers abuse your wet hole in the meanest motions he can muster.

He makes eye contact with you when he pulls his fingers out and licks them, making sure to clean them dry.

He’s got you plenty wet, he rubs the tip of his cock in between your lips even touching your sensitive clit, he hadn’t even made you cum and you’re already so jumpy.

His thick cock starts to push inside you, slowly filling you of him, taking him is no walk in the park, he’s more long than anything, you grip whatever you can as he pushes past your tight hole.

Atsuhiro lets you adjust to him, he can hear slight sniffling from you, poor thing, he’ll make you happy in just a moment: that moment being now, he pushes your legs a little towards your torso angling his cock more snuggly.

Atushiro is never one to rush sex with you, he likes to be in the moment so he can enjoy and really feel you but now he can’t wait, he starts thrusting fast and deep, your fat cunt accepting every inch so easily now.

He’s been obsessed with your pussy the first day you and him had sex, you’re so tight and warm, he draws his hips back all the way letting his cock fall out to admire the slick it’s covered in, just to slam right back into you.

“Nnng..”

“Feels… so good Sako..” your moans sound so choked up in your throat, making you all the more desperate for more clearly.

His face is a beautiful shade of pink, groans mixed with yours slipping from his bitten lips, you truly don’t know the effects your cunt has on him, everytime he pulls back you suck him right back in.

Your tail has a mind of its own when it wraps around his torso, moving along with the rhythm of his hips.

You wipe the tears that have found their way to your face, your body spasms in that familiar way, along with your pussy tightening even more around him. He holds you down by your tummy, securing you in place so you don’t thrash everywhere.

He slams down in you one last time, pushing you right over the edge you cum with a loud yelp followed by quiet whines that die down, through this whole thing he’s praising you, kissing your soddened cheeks.

Your chest rapidly tries to calm down, feeling the aftershocks of a nasty orgasm.

Later that night he makes sure to rub your pointy ears and cuddle you as close as possible.

[nakylvr]

— SÃO PAULO

daniela avanzini (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: going to a rave in the middle of the summer wasn't exactly on your to-do list. but when your best friend dani offers to take you to one, you have a hard time saying no

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, rave setting, drug usage (acid & molly), switch!daniela, switch!reader, semi-public sex(bathroom), oral, fingering, praise

wc: 2,5 k

now playing: são paulo by the weeknd & anitta

minors do not interact

this is pure fiction for fun, do not come at me 🫵 but it is accurate descriptions of the drugs so pls don't do drugs cause i wrote this, i aint responsible for what u do🙏

for the past week, you had been dealing with your best friend, daniela’s, attempts at trying to get you to go out to a party. well, not exactly a party, but a rave. you have no idea how she found out about this, but you didn't care at the same time. you didn't bother asking how she found out that there was a rave on saturday night, knowing she would counter it by saying “so you're interested?” 

so here you are now, sitting in your car in front of the big warehouse, mentally preparing yourself. unfortunately, you ended up giving in to dani’s consistently annoying manner of asking you every day if you were going to go. you couldn't lie and say these environments weren't your thing, because they really weren't. you only came along because you wanted to make sure dani would be okay. but, you didn't say that. with a sigh, you turn off your car and get out, walking up to the door and pushing it open. you're immediately met with bright strobing lights and booming loud music, and your nose scrunches up in discomfort at the sight. this was going to be a long night.

you swerve through the sweaty bodies, thankful you were wearing a short crop top and shorts with how hot it was already growing in there. your eyes wander around the place, trying to find daniela when you suddenly feel arms wrap around you, causing you to jump.

“calm down, ‘ts just me,”

you can barely hear her voice over the music, but you know it's daniela by the way her arms subtly curl around you and pull you closer to her. her words are slurring, and you can smell the alcohol on her.

“‘m glad you came,” she murmurs into your ear. 

“how drunk are you, dani?” you question, trying to ignore her words, but not being able to meet her glossed over eyes. 

“only a little,” she answers, but she’s swaying from side to side, giving a different answer. “c’mon, you need to have some fun, yn,” she pouts at you. “you want something?”

“excuse me?” your eyebrow arches, looking at her now. “dani, i’m not going to drink-” 

“hold your tongue out.”

“what?” you look at her with even more confusion. “dani-” you glance down at what she's holding in her hand, two small pills and two tiny pieces of paper. “oh my god, what else are you on right now?” you hiss out, almost angry. 

“it's just half a tab of acid and the smallest dose of molly possible,” daniela ignores your question about her, telling you what's in her hand. “everyone here is on this shit, you’ll be okay, trust me. ‘s long as you stay with me. ‘m taking it too.” 

your first thoughts are being angry at the fact she was obviously on what “everyone” was on, but the way she's talking to you, saying that you’ll be fine as long as you're with her, the anger fades away. “okay, fine,” you sigh. 

dani smiles at you, taking the pill from her hand and handing it over to you. you take it from her and quickly swallow it before she holds the paper near you.

“hold your tongue out,” she tells you. “it's gonna taste weird, but keep it in your mouth for as long as you can, then swallow it. you’ll feel it within the hour.” 

you comply, holding your tongue out and letting her place the small paper on it. you aren't really listening to what she's saying, too busy trying not to stare at her, your heart racing at the sight of her. you feel the paper touch your tongue as she pulls her hand away, closing your mouth by your jaw, her thumb grazing over your lips. 

“let's have some fun, yeah?” she grins at you, quickly taking both the pill and tab for herself. 

all you can do is nod your head, not trusting your voice to respond. she grabs your hand and pulls you through the bodies, stopping in the middle of the warehouse and smiling at you. 

“you look really good,” she tells you, her eyes shamelessly eyeing you up and down. 

your cheeks grow hot at her gaze on you, averting your eyes from hers. she grabs both your hands, starting to sway around which causes you to do it also, and you're doing your best to not feel like you're gonna panic within the next hour when it kicks in. you know dani has done these things before, seeing as you've had to help her the morning after when she would call you in the early hours saying she was having a bad trip and needed someone. one too many times have you drove over to where she was to pick her up and bring her back to your apartment with her almost nonverbal as she stares wide eyed at every light she sees. yet, here you were, not being the one helping her, but doing it with her. you trust her more than anyone, and you know she wouldn't give you anything that could possibly hurt you, which is enough for you to let your anxieties fade away. 

within a few minutes you find yourself enjoying this. the edm music isn't terrible, and the colorful lights distract you from the crowded environment that you're in. daniela’s eyes haven't left you for one second, and she's asking you every now and then if you're okay, which you just nod, smiling and continuing to dance. 

time flies by quickly, and you can start feeling the weird effects of what you assume is the drugs you were given. your body feels hot, and the lights feel 10x brighter than they were earlier, almost blinding you as you sway around. your back is facing daniela, who is eyeing you with hungry eyes while watching you let go and finally enjoy yourself. she can hardly think with the mixture of alcohol and drugs in her, but all she knows is that she wants you. she's known it for a while now, but didn't want to fuck anything up with you and lose you. she's surprised she hasn't accidentally blurted it out yet on the many times you've taken care of her while she was high. 

her arms snake around your waist from behind, pulling you so close that you're pressed against her. she stares at you as you sway to the hyper music, your eyes closed relishing in the feeling of everything. she wants to kiss you so badly, her eyes flickering to your lips every other second when you suddenly turn your head and open your eyes to look at her. 

you smile at her, your arm hooking around her neck, hand grasping her nape as you pull her in to kiss you. dani’s eyes go wide when you kiss her, but she instantly kisses back, her arms tightening around you. your lips feel soft against hers, and she can taste the lipgloss you put on before arriving. you practically melt into the kiss, moaning softly when she manages to pull you even closer. all you can think about is how good her lips feel pressing on yours, and you're desperate for more. you part from the kiss, panting as you rest your forehead on hers, staring into her eyes. 

daniela can barely process what's happening before she realizes you’ve dragged her into the dimly lit bathroom. you close the stall door and push her against it, leaning in and kissing her deeply. she can't stop the little noise that comes from her throat as you do so, a bit embarrassed by her own reaction with her cheeks flushing bright red. she doesn't know what to do, her hands shaking before finding your waist and grabbing you to hopefully ground herself some bit. your hands trail up and down her body, fingers grazing against her skin under the shirt she was wearing, your touch feeling like a burning sensation with the mix of the drugs. 

dani gasps into the kiss, her eyes closing when she feels your hand dip into her jeans and start circling her clit with two fingers, gripping your waist tighter. her head leans back and hits the door with a quiet thud when you pull away from the kiss, her mouth falling open as quiet whimpers come from her. 

“f-fuck, yn,” she whines your name. “more, please,”

you don't respond, instead taking your hand out of her jeans and unbuttoning them, tugging them down her legs onto the floor. you drop to your knees, pushing her legs apart with your face inches away from her dripping core. you stare up at her as you lick up her folds, hearing her gasp and grab your hair. your hands hold her thighs as you slowly push your tongue inside of her and quickly start thrusting in and out of her, moaning at the taste. 

“o-oh my god,” daniela moans, pushing your head further into her. she whines loudly when you switch to suck on her throbbing clit, tugging on your hair. “keep d-doing that- f-fuck!” 

you move one of your hands from her legs, lining two fingers up to her entrance before slipping them into her, causing a loud moan to come from her at the action. her hips start rocking against your fingers as you build a quick pace, long whines and moans falling past her lips as her head leans back against the door. your eyes remain looking up at her, watching the way her face contorts with every movement you make, her eyebrows scrunched together and her eyes squeezed closed. 

dani can barely think about anything at this point, except the fact that it feels so good with you finally touching her like this. she’d been craving it for so long, and it was almost overwhelming with the amount of pleasure she was feeling. her chest heaves up and down, breathing heavily as she feels the knot building in the pit of her stomach while grinding against your hand. she isn't even trying to be quiet, her moans echoing in the room without any care. it was feeling too good for her to be quiet, her noises becoming more whiny as she feels herself growing closer to the edge. “fuck, you're gonna make me cum!” she whines. “don-don’t stop- shit- please,” 

you don't say anything, speeding up your fingers and curling them inside her leading her to let out more higher pitched moans at the feeling of you hitting her g-spot. she finally opens her eyes and looks down at you, whimpering at the dark look in your eyes as you watch her come undone before you. her eyes lock with yours, and you curl your fingers again, making her let out a long whine as her eyes roll to the back of her head, cumming on your fingers. 

you slow your fingers to a stop, leaving little licks on her clit before standing up again. you bring your fingers to her lips, which she parts instantly as you put them in her mouth. she moans around your fingers at the taste of herself, gagging lightly when you prod them further into her mouth, her hand grabbing your wrist. you pull them out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting when she suddenly spins you around and presses you against the door, kissing you roughly. you let out a noise of surprise at the sudden action, kissing back as you feel her hands roam up and down your body. 

dani’s hands move under your shirt, fondling one of your tits and smiling at the moan you let out into the kiss. she parts from the kiss, panting through her words. “you're s’ fucking hot,” she mumbles. “be mine, please,” her voice almost sounds pleading as she says this. “please, i’ve been wanting you for s’ long. just-”

your hands cup her face, causing her to stop talking as you smile at her. “of course, dani,” you reply. “i’m all yours.” 

she smiles back at you, kissing you again as her hand trails down your body to under the waistband of the shorts you were wearing. she dips her hand in, pushing your panties to the side and dragging her fingers up and down your wet folds, collecting your wetness on them. “you're so wet,” she murmurs against your lips. without another word, she slides two fingers in you, your walls swallowing around them.

a moan escapes your lips at the feeling, your arms wrapping around her neck and pulling her close to you. parting from the kiss, you put your face in the crook of her neck, moaning into her skin as your hips subconsciously roll against her hand. “fuck, d-dani,” you whimper pathetically. 

“keep makin’ those noises, you sound s’ pretty, mi amor,” daniela mumbles into your ear, thrusting her fingers in you at a steady pace. 

you can't help but whine at her words, clenching around her fingers at the petname she calls you. she slips a third finger in you, stretching you out as you bite down on her neck while moaning. “oh m-my god, dani,”

dani hisses quietly when you bite into her neck, but doesn't stop or even slow down her fingers one bit, her unoccupied hand around your waist holding you against her. she smiles at the way you moan her name, and she wants to hear it more. she needs to hear it more. she didn't think you’d sound this pretty while she makes you feel like you were on cloud nine. “you're so tight around my fingers, fuck,” she breathes out. “mi hermosa niña,” she mumbles affectionately. 

you feel like your head is spinning with the mix of everything you’re feeling. her body feels hot pressed against yours, her touch electrifying as she draws circles on your lower back, her affectionate voice as she talks, her long fingers curling their way inside of you as your mouth is agape with loud noises coming from you. you can't think anymore, the only thing on your mind being how good you’re feeling at the moment. you know someone could come in at any moment, and dani knows it too, which is why she speeds up the pace of her fingers, leaving you whining loudly into her neck. “f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” 

hearing your whine, daniela curls her fingers in you again, hitting your g-spot with you rocking your hips with more desperation. “cum for me, mi buena niña,” she whispers into your ear, using her thumb to rub your clit quickly. 

your eyes squeeze shut as a scream-like moan leaves your mouth when you cum on her fingers, clenching around her tightly and pulling on her hair. you whimper quietly as she pulls her fingers out of you slowly, not moving your head from her neck as you pant heavily. 

“are you okay?” dani asks you softly, glancing down at you. 

“yeah,” you answer in a mumble. “can we go home?” 

“yeah,” she nods. “i’ll get us an uber or something. i’ll pick up your car here tomorrow.”

“okay,” you say quietly. “i love you,” you whisper.

“i love you too,” daniela replies in a second. “let's get out of here, yeah?”

“yeah.” 

[razorblade180]

Inspiration

Ruby:Yo-yo?

Carmine:Hmm?

Ruby:Ren told me you paid a visit to him for some training. Said you did pretty good.

Carmine:Not really. Stances were okay but aura manipulation is weird. Probably won’t rely on it too much.

Ruby:Seems like you’re drawing inspiration from everyone you can. If that the case, I have something for you.

The reapers reveals a long weapon’s case. She puts in the ground in front of her daughter and taps it with her foot, causing it to open up. Two curved blades lay brightly inside. Their detail is so intricate in the engravings and design. It’s obvious they’re meant to combine. Carmine picks them up to find they have little heft to them but are drastically lighter than her own sword. She might as well be holding nothing.

Carmine:Wow, these are crazy looking. Not necessarily my style but I can see how they could be useful.

Ruby:They’re what Cinder uses.

Carmine:…….What? How did y-

Ruby:These are replicas I made and trust me when I say they’re identical. If you put them together then it can fire arrows.

Carmine:Why would you ever make these?

Ruby:Because, my little huntress, I can be as petty and spiteful as anyone else when pushed far enough. Use these on patrol and missions for the next month; study them well. Utility, movement, reach, all that you can.

Carmine:“Know thy enemy” right? I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting this from you considering our differing views on how to handle the situation.

Ruby:I made a vow to you the day you were born that I will be a mom before a huntress when it came to making sure my family was safe. I still plan on finding and taking out Cinder myself, but if for some reason you find her first or she finds you, then by all means, give her every layer of hell you can.

Carmine:I don’t suppose you’ve made me a parasol blade too?

Ruby:If only that’s all it took to learn Neo’s moves. I mean this, just avoid her. She’s at least a three person job and two of them need to hate her.

Carmine:Heh, okay then. Mind if we go a few rounds then?

Ruby:…It’s better if you ask Ren?

Carmine:C’mon. I know you don’t like training me but-

Ruby:No, it not that. I just…I might go too hard if you’re using those.

Carmine:So? Honestly you’d be doing me a favor. Everyone always talks about how intense you can get, all the stories of your passion and hardcore moments. I don’t get to see that. I actually feel weird for never seeing you angry. I get angry all the time!

Ruby:Sweetie, what kind of a parent would I be if I took out repressed rage on my child in a sparring match?

Carmine:…Better than Raven. Better than your mom too.

Ruby:!? Wha-

Carmine:I think you’re pretty cool, despite everything that’s happened. We always try to our feelings out but honestly it never really works well. I get you’re trying to be an example, but it’s okay if normal being a mom doesn’t come as naturally as a huntress. Mix both. I don’t care. I kinda need both. I mean if I can survive you then Cinder would be easier by comparison. Plus…it’s not like I could stop myself from swinging at you seriously either.

Ruby:Did you..are you saying I piss you off?

Carmine:You’re my mom. Every daughter gets pissed at their mom.

Ruby:That’s not…inaccurate. Sigh Are we really doing this?

Carmine:Are my eyes silver? *points blade out* Well, Mrs. Hero? Show me why Cinder is too chicken face you head on!

Ruby:Fine, but name a restaurant first. You may think I prefer being huntsman 24/7 but I’d like to have some regular quality time with my daughter after this.

Carmine:Hmmm, how about your home cooking?

Ruby:…*smiles* Deal.

[skiitter]

Ellana looked for Solas everywhere, in every shadow and alleyway of Thedas, at every ephemeral border of her dreams. She hunted him through time, through the annals of her own ancestral history, down through the last long decade of her too short life. She searched for even the echo of his presence in places too old and too broken to be named. And in every corner, through every door, across every dusty room, she found nothing. He was a ghost of a memory, something she stole and kept pressed to the edge of her ribs, just painful enough to remind her it happened.

As the years and the emptiness of her life shuffled on, Ellana's loneliness blossomed outward, consuming the gentler parts of her, until all that was left was bitter and ugly, the refuse of all her wasted hope. And so, for the sake of what life she had life, she set aside that aching desire, and refocused her grim determination on solving problems that he created. If Solas would not have her now, just as he did not keep her then, then so be it. He broke her heart, but she would not let him break the world.

She never expected to see him again, not in this life anyway, and most certainly not in the face of a stranger, in a tavern far, far away.

"This," Morrigan said, "is Rook."

Afterwards, her hand shook for want of something to cling too. The wolf statue she'd given to Thedas's newest champion was all she'd brought on her journey, and so it was to her own miserable shock she was forced to clutch.

"So, what did you think of her?" Morrigan asked upon their return to the south.

'I hate her' was the very first thought in her head, but Ellana pushed it aside for something appropriate, something fair. "She's so young."

Morrigan nodded. "Tis true, she is. But so was the Warden Amell, so was Varric's beloved Hawke," she paused. "So were you."

Ellana felt every second of her 36 years hit her all at once and she failed to keep the grimace from her face. "She's not Dalish, despite her name. I was expecting her to be more..." She could hear the word 'elfy' in Sera's voice as clear as day. "It must drive him mad."

"Oh, I'm sure many things about her do. She's quite obstinate, I'm told." Dorian stepped through the Eluvian after them, brushing imaginary fade-dust from his tailored robes. "Harding says she reminds her of you, all spitfire and stubborness."

It wounded like nothing had in a decade. It was a feeling so far removed from her repertoire of emotions, she didn't dare name it until safely alone in a room, far from prying eyes and clever sight.

Jealousy.

It's so base, so sincere in its immaturity, Ellana smiled despite the revelation. Jealousy, now, at the end of the world. How small it felt before the onslaught of things sure to come, how useless. But it was felt all the same. What a ruin the last decade had made of her pride, the irony of which she was unable to ignore. It would be better, she knew, if she did not love him. It would be easier, she knew, if she hated him. And yet.

And yet.

"El, darling, I've brought you some very expensive and fancy wine that you will pretend to enjoy and I--" Dorian trailed off at the sight of her hunched over in bed, sobbing quietly into her hands. "Oh, Ellana." He did not ask, no one ever did anymore. Instead, he sat down and drew her to him.

"It's not fair," she said into the crook of his neck. "It's not bloody fair."

"Love never is."

"It should be me, sifting through his fractured thoughts, demanding answers and receiving none. A decade of my life, Dorian. A decade. And it's just some--some girl instead." Ellana scoffed in disgust at her own fallible heart. "Her people, they live in his--his home--they--they are sat among his things. They--" She scrubbed at her face, pulling away. "I am so sick of missing him, of wanting answers to a question I asked years ago."

"I know."

"Does this make me foolish? All these years, and I'm still so heartbroken. I'm responsible for the safety of a thousand people and one man, one stupid and prideful man, has weakened me so utterly I cannot help but hate what I've become." Ellana looked at him. "I hate that I hate her. I hate that she was able to succeed where I failed."

"She's only where she's at because of Varric--"

"I spent years thinking of ways to make him stop, for just moment, to just listen to me. And now, she's got him trapped. Trapped and unable to run and I cannot even demand an audience after all this--this searching. He's just as unreachable to me now as he's ever been."

Dorian was at a loss for words, as nearly everyone was when presented with the ugly wound of her heartache. She did not begrudge him such things, nor did she push away his attempts to comfort. Instead, she cried for a while more, just for the posterity of feeling.

"Sorry," she scrubbed at her face after some time. "It's been a long day."

"It's been a long decade," he said gently. "Would you like some company or is this a 'wallow in your own loneliness' sort of evening?"

In response, she grabbed the bottle from him and took a heavy swig. It was impressively dry, like all Tevinter wine. With a grimace, she handed it back. "Company, definitely."

Several cups and not enough food later, the two of them sat before the small fireplace, having lapsed into companionable silence. He had just finished telling her of his recent run in with Vivienne and at the mention of their old friend, her thoughts were inevitably cast back in time to the Dread Wolf.

"I can see him in her," she said softly. "I see Solas in her expression, in the way she carries herself. It's...it's agonizing."

Dorian reached out and took her hand.

"She's so young and the weight of the entire world is on her shoulders. I know that feeling, I know how hard it is going to get," Ellana sighed. "I cannot begrudge her for things wholly out of her control."

"It is okay to hate her, even if it is only a little bit," he replied. "I won't tell."

"I know." She gave him a sad smile. "Maybe at the end of this, on the other side of all this carnage, I can ask her to tell him that I..." There was no word to properly encapsulate the sumtotal of everything she felt for Solas. "That I miss him, even now. And that if he ever wanted to talk, I will always be here to listen."

"He doesn't deserve your heart, Ellana, he never has."

"I know, but it's his anyway."

[sugarushwriting]

bad idea, right?

frat boy sunghoon #5

part(s): one two three four

gonna start off breaking y’all’s hearts, but then happy ending yay

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

you really thought things were going well between sunghoon and you. three months and you both still argue like an old married couple. kiss like it’s the first time. fuck like it’s your last day together. comfort each other like best friends.

maybe you both started this relationship or situationship too soon.

although you both never thoroughly said “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” to one another, he was yours and you were his. you both weren’t seeing other people.

or at least you thought.

you hadn’t seen sunghoon for about 4 days as you had to force yourself to stay away to study for an exam, and finish a 5 page research paper for separate classes.

sunghoon would’ve just distracted you with his good looks. so you made the difficult choice to stay in your own dorm, in your own bed.

currently it was saturday night, and as usual the frat was having a party to end the football season and begin the basketball season.

you had originally told sunghoon you wouldn’t be able to make it.

however, you had the best roommate who helped you study for the exam (which you passed the day prior) and helped you with your paper (you did all the hard work, she proof read and made sure you had all materials). so, you finished your paper a day earlier than you planned.

with a big smile, you hugged minnie and literally skipped to the frat house to surprise sunghoon. sadly it was cold as fuck, so you wouldn’t be wearing a mini skirt that sunghoon claims to hate seeing you in but he secretly loves.

you wore tight flare jeans, and a off the shoulder knit black top, with black boots. you rather be warm and comfy than cold and uncomfortable in clothes that your man (?) would rip off anyway.

but your heart sank when you searched for sunghoon throughout the party, his own roommates and friends not having seen him for the past 30 minutes.

you tried one last door quietly, and immediately cusped your hand over your mouth, holding in a gasp, shutting the door back.

inside, sunghoon pulled away startled, “what was that?”

“nothing baby.” a female voice purred and brought her lips down to the hockey player once again.

he kissed her a few times back, hands resting on her hips until he pulled away, wiping his lips.

meanwhile you, your vision blurred fighting back tears and a sob. running down the steps, you ignore jay and the others calling after you.

“are we done?” sunghoon said, pushing the girl off his lap, she pouting.

“hoonie, i thought we were having fun?” she tried her best to seduce the boy, but he pushed her hand away from touching him.

“don’t call me that.” he spat. “this stays between us, and you lay off my girl.”

“we’ll see about that, sunghoon. hopefully she’s still your girl after this.” the girl twirled her fake red hair in her fingers, biting her lip.

you ran back to the dorm, cursing at yourself for even liking a guy like sunghoon.

he was a fuck boy for sake. a hockey player. a frat boy.

then you cursed at yourself once again for leaving like a baby. why didn’t you go in there and yell at him? yell at her?

because you were vulnerable with someone for once.

walking into your dorm room, minnie was surprised to see you back so early, and her face fell witnessing the tears fall down your cheek.

“oh baby, what happened?”

you sniffled and let out the biggest sob, running into your roommate’s awaiting hug.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

sunghoon had a raging headache the next morning. after leaving whoever that girl was behind, he drank himself unconscious.

he didn’t like kissing lips that didn’t belong to you. but he felt he had to. to keep you protected.

however that didn’t last when an unknown number had sent photos of him and the girl in close proximity and the girl on his lap, kissing him.

not only to his number but yours as well. the unknown person literally created a group chat to rub it in sunghoon’s face.

after seeing those pictures, you showed minnie, who immediately deleted the text and blocked both the unknown number and sunghoon.

sunghoon drive himself crazy, nearly pulling out all his hair on his head when you didn’t answer his texts or calls.

“she blocked me.” sunghoon swallowed. “no, no, no.” he threw them covers off of himself, slipping on sweats and a random shirt, for once not caring about his appearance.

he quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face, before running down the steps of the shared house, ignoring his roommates calling for him.

he had one thing on his mind and that was getting to you.

his peach.

“peach, baby, please open up!” he nearly cried himself knocking on your dorm door. “i can explain peach, please!”

you laid in your bed, wearing a hoodie of his, crying while hugging a pillow.

minnie walked up surprised to see the boy at the door.

“can i help you?” she crossed her arms. “this is my dorm.”

“you must be minnie,” sunghoon choked out. “please, please let me in to see her. i need to explain.”

“why don’t you explain to me first?” minnie asked standing her ground.

sunghoon sighed. “i—i can’t.” he shook his head. “just know i was doing it to protect her. protect us.”

“how does making out with another girl protect you both, huh?” minnie shot.

sunghoon hung his head in shame. “i didn’t know someone would send her photos.”

“she knew before the photos sunghoon. she went to the party to surprise you after finishing her work and caught you in the act.”

sunghoon snapped his head up, mouth open, eyes blurry. “wh—what?”

minnie nodded. “she came back crying to me, blaming herself.”

“no, no, no, it’s not her fault! it’s mine. i shouldn’t have taken the blackmail seriously.”

that’s when you ripped the door open, stopping the bullshit. “oh please! blackmail? seriously sunghoon? that’s the best you can do! if you wanted to end whatever this is between us you should’ve just said so!” you spat.

sunghoon and minnie were taken back from your outburst. (minnie was secretly proud though).

“peach—,”

“don’t call me that! you lost your privilege when you put your lips on another bitch!”

you pulled minnie in by her arm and slammed the door in sunghoon’s face, heart pounding.

sunghoon raised his fist to knock but decided against it. he’d go to the ice rink.

on the other side of the door, you let more sobs fall.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next few days, sunghoon felt like a zombie. a recluse zombie. he went to class and to the rink, that’s it. no extra curricular activities, no parties, no gatherings, nothing.

you became a recluse yourself, which actually was your usual self. back to keeping your nose in the books, in your own world, ignoring men around you.

you hate to admit that you missed sunghoon so much. you missed his touch, smile, laugh, the little beauty moles on his face. the softness of his hair.

you missed the sex too, of course.

you sighed, unable to concentrate on the book in front of you as you sat comfortably in a chair in the student center on campus.

it was pretty quiet besides the few students scattered around on this floor.

trying to get back into your book, a shadow peeped over the book and you were startled to see karina.

“hi.” she waved, biting her lip.

“hi karina.” you looked at the girl confusingly. you hadn’t spoken to the girl in months, so what was up now?

“i heard what happened between you and sunghoon.” karina said and took a seat next to you.

you raised an eyebrow. well, rumors spread fast. “that was fast.”

“well i saw you running out the house party. it seemed you were about to cry. before i could run after you i saw sunghoon with another girl.” karina pouted and reach to hold your hand. “i’m sorry.”

one thing about karina was she was good at acting. you didn’t know if she truly felt sorry or was faking. you had to tread carefully.

“it’s fine, i’m way out of his league anyway.” you sighed, pulling your hand away.

“nah babe, he’s out of your league.”

yeah something was definitely up. the karina who you used to hang out with would have definitely agreed with the first statement and never made the second one.

later that evening, karina found sunghoon after his game and cornered him after he came out the locker room.

with a wicked smile, she looked at the boy who seemed to haven’t slept in days.

“aw, poor sunghoon. missing his peach.” karina mocked, stalking towards him.

“what the fuck do you want karina?” sunghoon spat. karina just stared at sunghoon with a smile. sunghoon wasn’t dumb. it instantly clicked. “you set me up didn’t you?” he narrowed his eyes.

karina slowly clapped. “took you long enough. who else would know your peach’s deepest darkest secret?”

sunghoon still didn’t know himself, but if it was bad enough to be blackmailed about, he would do anything to protect you.

“why me?”

“i couldn’t go after her, in no way would she dare kiss another guy in exchange for blackmail. plus, you’d be too hard to sway away from her. on the other hand, all it took was one kiss with another girl and poof. bye bye peach.” karina chuckled.

if sunghoon wasn’t a gentleman, he would’ve punched karina by now.

sunghoon scoffed. “all it takes is for me to talk to her and she would understand i was set up.”

“tsk, i wouldn’t do that hoonie.”

“don’t call me that.” he spat.

karina laughed. “unless you want me to tell a certain someone your dirty little secret, i would stay away from her.”

sunghoon looked at her confused, scratching his eyebrow. “wh—what dirty little secret?”

karina smiled. “oh, nothing. i just happened to talk to two girls. one named minji the other named, what was it?” karina tapped her chin, in a deep fake thought. she snapped her fingers, “oh, jiheon!”

sunghoon’s own heart dropped hearing two names he hadn’t heard in forever.

“you really were a terrible human being in high school and during your first year in university, sunghoon.”

“i’m not that same person anymore!” sunghoon exclaimed. “and the second one, i didn’t know she was—,”

karina cut off the boy, “do you really think she’d care about that?” karina stalked closer to him. “don’t think i don’t know you also only slept with my best friend in the first place was to get back at me.”

sunghoon’s nostrils flared, “ex-bestfriend.”

“ha, is that the only part you’ll respond to? why? because you know the other part is true.”

“was.”

“doesn’t matter.” karina crossed her arms. “i’ll be seeing you around hoonie.” she smiled and walked off giving him the peace sign with her back turned.

sunghoon leaned against the nearest wall, leaning his head back. did he just lose you forever?

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

another month passed, and the first time sunghoon had seen you was just now. looking in your eyes as he found you in the crowd at his hockey game.

he was currently in the penalty box for fighting.

“sunghoon has been getting in trouble too much lately. if he keeps it up, he won’t be able to play in the finals!” sunoo gasped.

“that’s if the team makes it then. they play worse when their co-captain is in trouble.” jay added.

you shook your head, sitting next to the group of boys closest to sunghoon.

you hadn’t wanted to come for obvious reasons, but sunoo and minnie both encouraged you. one, sunoo didn’t want to come without you.

minnie had told you, “if you still find yourself having feelings after seeing him, you need to talk to him. hear him out, and find closure.”

minnie was right. even if you had no plans going back to sunghoon (which honestly broke you), you needed to find closure.

“how long has he been getting in trouble?” you asked sunoo softly.

he looked at you with a soft expression and a sigh. “about a month.”

“he won’t tell us what’s going on in that mind of his.” jay said, resting his chin in his hand. “the boy usually is able to control his anger either by being on the ice or you know,”

“fucking other girls.” jake leaned from beside jay finishing his sentence.

jay shook his head. “i don’t think the boy has been laid in about a month. actually more than that. you were the last girl he was with.” jay turned to you.

the boys knew you and sunghoon were no longer together. they just didn’t know what happened.

you looked at the boys who all were staring at you. sunghoon still looking at you from the penalty box.

“are you gonna ever tell us what happened?” sunoo asked grabbing your hand.

you sighed in defeat. “maybe one day. i need to talk to hoonie first.”

eventually sunghoon was welcomed back in the game, and his team won it, sending them to semi-finals next weekend in the city next over.

the arena slowly emptied out, leaving you sitting on the bleachers. before sunghoon walked to the showers with his team, you told him you would be waiting for him on the bleachers to talk.

about 30 minutes later, sunghoon walked out, dressed nicely with his hair still damp.

you looked up with a smile and patted the spot next to you.

you both sat quietly next to each other, scared to talk first.

in the end, it was sunghoon who talked first. and explained everything. don’t the time he was cornered at the party, up to karina’s threat a month ago.

“i should’ve tried to explain—,”

“you did hoonie, i just ignored you.” you sighed. “i’m sorry.” you apologized with a smile.

“nothing to apologize for peach.” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. his heart fluttered when you didn’t push him off and tell him not to call you peach.

even more, you called him hoonie.

“i should’ve known karina was behind it. i should’ve had more faith and trust in you.”

“it’s okay. i’m a frat boy with a bad rep.” he kissed your hair line.

what you both knew what needed to be discussed was your secrets that were threatened to be revealed.

you inhaled deeply, needing to get this off your chest to sunghoon. “i’ve only told karina—regrettably, and minnie.”

sunghoon tightened his grip of your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “it’s okay, i promise you can trust me.”

you explained how you indirectly killed an old friend of yours in high school. “she was so drunk, i should’ve fought harder to take the keys away from her!” you cried into his chest.

“peach it’s not your fault.” sunghoon soothed you by rubbing your back.

“it is! if i would’ve just taken her keys, then she wouldn’t have been able to drive! i just—i tried to fight back, but i was more inebriated than her. turns out someone spiked many drinks girls had when they weren’t looking.” you clutched his shirt in your grip.

sunghoon let you cry for a good 5 minutes until you calmed back down. “i’m a bad person, hoonie.”

sunghoon shook his head. “not worse than me, peach.” he sighed. sunghoon was nervous to tell you.

he swallowed, and you waited patiently to hear what his secrets were.

“the first girl, minji, um,” he scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “minji was a sophomore, i was a senior in high school.” sunghoon sighed closing his eyes. “i was a stupid, stupid teenager, peach. i knew she had a crush on me, and so did my friend group. there was an ongoing bet on how many girls we could mess around with, which bases. bonus if she was a virgin.”

you gasped, “sunghoon,”

“i led her on, knowing she had a crush on me, telling her that i didn’t want anything serious. she let me take her virginity and then i just ignored her.” sunghoon said. “at first i didn’t care, i had told her i didn’t want anything serious. she followed me around and i got so mad, i don’t remember what i said, but it was bad enough minji ran away in tears. few days later she attempted to take her own life.”

you held in a breath. “is, is she—?”

“she’s alive. after that, i sought her out and apologized. apologized to her almost everyday for the rest of my high school years. don’t think she ever really forgave me, just told me okay and to move on.”

you held tighter. definitely disgusted by what he did to the girl, no way excusing his behavior. “what about the other girl?”

sunghoon’s vision threatened to become blurry with tears, but he stated to himself he had no right. if anything, he was angry with himself.

“it was my freshman year in college. one of my first few frat parties i’ve been to. i walked in on two people, quickly apologizing and walked out. turns out she was being assaulted. she was barely conscious, her mouth covered by the guy.” sunghoon spat the last part disgusted.

“sunghoon—,”

“don’t say it’s not my fault because it is.” he said. “i could’ve stopped it! i could’ve beat that guys ass for disrespecting a girl. for hurting a girl. if i just had paid closer attention, i could’ve stopped it.”

“sunghoon, it’s not your fault.” you said.

“it is!”

“did you give her to this guy, knowing she was barely conscious?”

sunghoon stared at you like how could you even imagine something like that? “of course not.”

“then no, it’s not your fault, sunghoon.”

“the girl says the same thing.” he sighed.

“you’ve talked to her after the assault?” you asked and he nodded.

“yeah, i testified as a witness. although i quickly walked out, i was quick to recognize the guy. i had seen him earlier in the night wearing the same jersey and jersey number.” sunghoon explained. “i took her out for coffee to thoroughly apologized, and she told me it wasn’t my fault only the guy who assaulted her fault.” sunghoon closed his eyes. “even though i understand she says it’s not my fault, i am still disappointed in myself.”

“where is she now?”

“she moved away. dropped out of college. haven’t spoken to her since.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you both arrived to sunghoon’s place after an intense conversation. you both had demons in your past that you all had to work on. but also agreed you both should’ve just tried harder to communicate.

it felt good to be laying in sunghoon’s arms, wrapped in his scent.

“just so you know, i’m making love to you tonight peach. nice and slow.”

you pouted. “aw not hard and fast? thought i found someone who matched my freak.”

“your freak? what about mine?” sunghoon laughed.

you playfully pushed his shoulder. “i match your freak!”

sunghoon quickly hovered over your body. “matching my freak would be letting me fuck you until you can’t walk in the middle of the ice rink.”

sunghoon leaned down to kiss the soft spot on your neck, immediately causing you to moan.

kisses trailed down to your exposed thighs as you only wore one of sunghoon’s shirts. nothing else.

“i will rent out the entire rink if that means i get to fuck you all over it, peach.”

sunghoon wasted no time to find his favorite place between your legs, your thighs immediately wrapping around his shoulders due to sensitivity.

you’ve missed his tongue.

it seems like sunghoon miss you, or shall you say cunt, because he inhaled your scent from below.

his tongue lapped up all you had to offer, his hands keeping your thighs now pushed apart. back arching off the bed, your fists gripping the sheets, you weren’t going to last much longer.

sunghoon knew your body like a map, and he knew you were close.

he removed his lips hesitantly, kissing back up your stomach, dragging the shirt with him to pull it over your head.

he kissed your lips once, nibbling at your bottom lip. “we’ll come together, peach.”

his nose touched yours, both of you looking into each other eyes, as you felt sunghoon trace his fingers over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its path.

as smooth as always, sunghoon pulled his pants and boxers off with ease, his shirt already being discarded. he eased in slowly to you, your body needing to readjust to the stretch.

“a month too long, peach.” sunghoon groaned once his full length was inside you.

“never again.” you groaned. “fuck sunghoon, please move. i don’t care if it’s fast or slow.”

your nails scratched his back, for sure leaving marks. his right arm wrapped around your stomach, leaving his arm as a barrier between the bed and your back.

sunghoon kept his promise as he fucked you slow. he had to be sure to get his point across. you were his. he was the only one that could make you feel this good.

his left arm kept sunghoon’s body from fully resting on yours, your eyes screwed shut, with your legs resting on each of his side.

this was the first time you and sunghoon ever took it this slow. not even lazy morning sex was this slow.

“hoonie, i—i’m close.” you moaned out, back arching more.

sunghoon bent down best of his ability to attach his lips to your neck. “come with me peach.”

soon you both came together, sunghoon not even worried about pulling out.

─── ᯓᡣ𐭩 ─── ─── ᯓᡣ𐭩 ─── ─── ᯓᡣ𐭩

authors note

≽^•⩊•^≼

the dirty little secrets could’ve been better but oh well

i love frat boy hoonie 🩶

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

If you're up to do a request I got an angsty one. Feel free to pass this with of you're not comfortable;

Swapfell Papyrus and Sans (separately) are in a really solid relationship with s/o. Everything was going great until one day s/o announced they were pregnant!

The skeletons did not believe them, since well s/o is human, and believed they cheated. S/o tried so hard to convince them the baby is theirs but was unsuccessful. Sans and Papyrus left them, heartbroken.

Months later after the relationship is over, Sans and Papyrus randomly came across S/O whom is now sporting a babybones in their arms. Oops turns out S/O was telling the truth and somehow survived the pregnancy!

I love this. And I love you traveler for gracing me with this idea ;)

Featuring: Sans, Cash.

Masterlist

Sans

By all scientific means this couldn't be possible, you two were different almost completely different rares, and by what he remembered of the old studies of his years of being a scientist, monsters and humans could not breed..

He didn't want to believe it, have you been cheating on him all this time? Were all of your love words fake?

He wasn't mad, he was disappointed, he always thought you deserved better than a pack of bones like him anyways..

He didn't make a scene out of it, simply grabbed his things and moved out. That was it.

He still loved you, dearly, but he couldn't be with someone who cheated on him.

Imagine his surprise when he accidentally bumped into you almost a year later, his sockets going black when he sees you holding a babybones almost identical to him.

You just murmured "excuse me.." and walked away. He stares at seemingly nothing, rethinking his decisions.

Sans goes to Toriel for advice, he needs her words right now.

Lather that day, your phone lit up with a message from Sans, "Can we talk please?".

He understands if you didn't respond, but is happy when you send a "sure. My house?" back.

It doesn't take long for you to hear a knock on the door.

When you open, you see Sans with a bruise on his cheek caused by Undyne.

"So..."

"I'm.. sorry (_____). I-i shouldn't have acted the way I did based on my old studies. I understand if you don't want our relationship to be back, especially after what I did... But.. I'll be here if you ever consider it.."

It's your choice now traveler, will you accept him back?

Cash

Wants to believe in you, but can't. Even after you and his brother saying it's his baby, he just can't.

He was a royal scientist for.. maybe a year? He doesn't remember correctly, but the time he was there he saw some.. "studies" being done in humans, and with his own sockets he believed humans and monsters breeding was impossible.

And knowing himself, he wouldn't really blame you for cheating on a dirty, greedy monster like him.

Yet he still felt betrayed, he placed his trust in you, told you about things he swore never to dig up again, and you repay him by cheating!?

People who passed by him could never imagine he'd spend his nights crying on his mattress while holding things that you gave him.

Even after bumping into you, seeing his own skeleton child in your arms, his ego is way too big to admit he fucked up.

But shit, there's no other skeleton Monsters on the underground and that kid looks just like he did when younger. Fuck.

His first instinct is to go to his brother.

"Berry I fucked up!"

"You Saw (_____)'s Kid Didn't You?"

Berry still stayed in contact with you, pretty secretly but he did, no way in hell he'd miss his nephew/niece growing!

Of course that made it easier for him to help his baby sibling, telling him to go buy your favorite flowers and candy. Oh and some diapers as well just in case.

You're surprised when seeing a pretty well dressed Cash holding flowers and chocolate at your front door, it's not really a sight you'd see every day.

He takes a deep breath, pushing his ego behind and finally apologizing after months.

"So... I just wanted to say I'm sorry I thought ya cheated months ago... I brought your favorites to recompensate you..?"

It took him a lot of effort to let this simple phrase out, please just tell him if you still want him again or not..

[silverynight]

Addiction

One thing he didn't know about Fushiguro was that despite his cold demeanor, the boy was actually very physically affectionate. Right now they're sitting on Yuuji's bed and Fushiguro has his arms around the pink haired boy's waist. Yuuji can feel the other's cheek on his shoulder, but it doesn't bother him at all.

Although Yuuji hasn't seen him do that with anyone else, but it's not like he's with him all the time.

"Are you still with me?" Yuuji asks after a couple of seconds of complete silence; he doesn't mind it, but right now they're supposed to be studying for their finals.

"I'm not asleep if that's what you're asking," Fushiguro grumbles back, nuzzling against Yuuji's shoulder.

"So if you're trapped in a place that doesn't let you get out, that makes you walk the same hallway over and over... how do you break that type of curse?" Yuuji asks, genuinely confused, he doesn't like to make calculations; most of the time he punches his way out of any situation.

Finals are the worst. Can't they just send them to different missions instead of making them use their brains to solve something that isn't actually happening to them?

"You're pouting, Itadori," Fushiguro tries to look serious, but Yuuji notices the amusement in his eyes when he turns his head around. "Too difficult for you?"

"Shut up, Fushiguro!" Yuuji chuckles, trying to push his friend away. However, the dark haired boy just growls and tightens his grip on Yuuji's waist. "Come on, solve it!"

Before he can do that though, Kugisaki rushes into the room like it's her own. She rolls her eyes as soon as she notices their sitting positions on the bed.

"You should knock before you walk into a room, you know?" Yuuji scolds her, although it's mostly to bother her because he actually doesn't mind.

"Tch! It's not like I walked in on you two having sex or anything, calm down!" Kugisaki says, making a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"Why would we be having sex?" Yuuji asks, genuinely confused, as Fushiguro chokes next to him. He hasn't moved from his side though, not even after Kugisaki arrived.

"It doesn't matter because you two are going to go shopping with me!"

Fushiguro growls, but Yuuji perks up immediately because he's tired of studying; he needs a break.

Yes, they end up carrying most of Kugisaki's stuff, but Yuuji doesn't mind at all. However, Fushiguro keeps one of his hands free the whole time so he can grab Yuuji's waist.

He does that a lot lately. But it's fine, Yuuji doesn't mind and it seems to help him in social situations; Fushiguro doesn't like to be around people at all, it doesn't matter if they're complete strangers and they're not talking to him.

He hates crowded places.

"Hey, stay here with these while I take Itadori to the next store. I want his opinion on a dress I saw the other day."

Fushiguro doesn't seem to like the idea to be out there on his own, but he eventually nods a lets go of Yuuji.

"Jeez, it's like he's glued to you today," Kugisaki rolls her eyes after walking into the store with Yuuji. "I knew he had it bad, but this is a little bit too much."

Yuuji is not exactly sure what she's talking about, but he supposes it's about their friend.

"He's a little bit clingy now, but maybe it's because during our last mission the three of us almost died..."

"And he's afraid of losing you," Kugisaki cuts him off, surprising him.

"It's not just me–"

"It looks like he's addicted to you now," she says, looking around the store until she finds the light yellow dress with flowers; it's very cute.

"He's not!" Yuuji chuckles, having a hard time imagining Fushiguro getting addicted to something.

"I'm serious... He's in love with you, but in a weird way."

"What do you mean weird way?"

"A boy doesn't look at another boy like Fushiguro looks at you; it's like he is ready to marry you or something..."

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about! We're just friends!"

"Sure, Itadori."

***

When they walk out, there's a girl with Fushiguro, curling up her own hair with her finger and smiling at him.

"Poor thing," Kugisaki snorts. "Thinking she has a chance. Although I must admit she's brave and very persistent because Fushiguro looks like he wants nothing more than for her to disappear."

Yuuji agrees that he looks certainly uncomfortable, although maybe it's just because the girl is not his type.

He considers for a moment making the same joke they did when Gojo was around, but he reminds himself that it seemed to make Fushiguro even more uncomfortable and embarrassed that time.

"Perhaps we should let him handle–"

"Fushiguro!" Kugisaki ignores the pink haired boy completely and waves her hand to catch his attention.

The other girl narrows her eyes, but Fushiguro looks absolutely relieved.

"I didn't know you had a girl–"

She shuts up as soon as Fushiguro walks towards Yuuji and wraps his arms around him, before burying his face in the curve of his neck; it makes Yuuji giggle.

"Uhh, hi, I'm Itadori..." it's too late; the girl is gone.

"You should buy a t-shirt that says 'no, thank you, I'm gay' and save the girls the trouble." Kugisaki chuckles.

"Are you gay, Fushiguro? I didn't know! Good for you, man!"

His friend has to move a few steps away from him in order to properly glare at him. Yuuji doesn't quite get it.

"You're an idiot, Itadori," he grumbles, cheeks turning slightly pink before he pulls a very confused Yuuji into his arms again.

The physical affection increases a lot after that.

It doesn't matter where they are, Fushiguro always manages to wrap himself around Yuuji. When the pink haired boy is watching a movie, lying on the couch, after a couple of minutes Fushiguro walks into the room and lies on top of him; he doesn't even bother to ask for permission.

Which is more than okay with Yuuji, they're friends after all, it doesn't matter what Kugisaki says.

However, even he finds it a little bit weird when Fushiguro starts holding his hand and intertwining their fingers together whenever they go out.

People start looking at them in a funny way, like that girl who was trying to flirt with Fushiguro before she found out he was gay.

When Fushiguro starts taking him to different places without Kugisaki and she outright tells Yuuji they're basically dating, he decides to finally ask him about it.

"Fushiguro," Yuuji mumbles, looking at their hands, feeling the warmth coming from his friend's skin and realizing that the waitress is treating them like a couple. "Are we dating?"

Choking on his coffee, Fushiguro stares at Yuuji before turning his head away and releasing Yuuji's hand. His cheeks have turned slightly pink.

"I'm sorry."

Yuuji rolls his eyes, but he realizes that he doesn't mind going on dates with Fushiguro, actually he's had so much fun and he finds him attractive.

"When you were planning to tell me?"

"I wanted to properly ask you out, but then the shopping center happened and you were so surprised after finding out I was gay I thought you were going to turn me down and I panicked. So I thought that maybe I could take you on a couple of dates and if you didn't like it you'd tell me to stop or to fuck off eventually."

Yuuji can't help but feeling charmed at Fushiguro's shy confession, he leans over the table and cradles his face.

"We can keep dating, but try to tell me what you want next time, okay?"

Fushiguro nods immediately, looking like he can't quite believe what's happening.

"You were sure I was going to turn you down or why are you–"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I thought you were straight."

"Oh," Yuuji moves back into his seat, but Fushiguro walks around the table to sit right next to him. "Well, I thought that too, but the truth is that I like you."

"Works for me." Fushiguro's voice sounds different this time. It almost like he's desperate, it makes Yuuji chuckle because he knows his friend is just being dramatic.

Right?

"Itadori, can I kiss you when we go back to our dorms?"

"Uhh, sure," Yuuji looks around and notices there are a lot of people in the cafeteria so it's probably a good idea to wait.

They still have lunch, but Fushiguro looks particularly impatient that day. It never occurs to Yuuji that it could be due to the promised kiss until they're back in jujutsu high and Fushiguro basically shoves him into his room and closes the door quickly.

"Hey, why are you–" lips crash into Yuuji's before he can even finish the sentence. A gentle hand cups the back of his head and pulls him closer.

Fushiguro kisses like he's starving and although the kiss is good it's a little bit overwhelming for Yuuji at first. When he feels a tongue sliding inside his mouth, he pushes his friend away gently.

"Calm down," he chuckles when Fushiguro chases his lips anyway. "I'm not going anywhere."

With his face completely red, Fushiguro nods before pulling Yuuji into a tight embrace and burying his face in the curve of his neck.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, just try to be gentle."

This time is Fushiguro the one who cradles his face and for the first time Yuuji looks into his blue eyes enough to notice the want and the need behind them; it sends a shiver through his spine but in a good way.

Sure, the kiss starts gentle and since Yuuji is prepared this time he kisses back and surrenders into it.

However, it quickly escalates to something more desperate and heated; Yuuji moans at some point and Fushiguro hums in approval before pushing him towards the bed.

"Wait. Slow. I want to go slow." He says, breathing heavily and blushing when he realizes Fushiguro eyes are a lot darker now.

"Okay."

They sit on the bed, cuddling and watching a couple of videos. It helps Yuuji's heart to calm down a bit.

"There's something you need to know about me, Itadori," Fushiguro says after a while.

"Yeah?"

"I'm very possessive." Fushiguro whispers, before pressing a soft kiss against his neck.

It's not his words, but the way he says them what makes Yuuji think that he might not survive this relationship. And yet, his heart is very happy at the moment.

***

Patreon

[multimilfs]

Agnes O'Connor x Fem!Reader: Beginning & End

Summary: Taking a late drive to get your mind off a few things, you get more than you bargained for from a not-so-routine traffic stop.

AO3

A/N: Wasn't sure how to tag this since Agnes is technically an Agatha... variant? persona? Also I didn't tag the Agatha taglist since this isn't technically Agatha? tricky tricky... This is basically just pure smut with a sprinkle of plot.. enjoy xoxo (also let me know if you want more of Agnes?)

Words: 6.2k

Included: Established relationship, Jealousy, Smut; choking, spitting, bdsm, possession, semi-public sex, car sex, fingering, cunnilingus, daddy kink, roleplaying, power dynamics, dom/sub, teasing, begging

Tag List: @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix

You sigh as you lean into the leather seat. The music is loud enough to hurt, but you don’t turn the volume down, glad of the noise even if you don’t feel like singing along. Trees fly by outside the window as you drive. 

A sign passes in a flash but you catch the number; 45. Your speedometer reads 55. 

Making sure you’re alone on the road, you push it to 57 just for kicks. Even as the dark scenes on either side pass in a blur, the road ahead is clear. The moon hangs low and bright above, reflecting off the filled-in parts of the pavement. 

The song changes and you sigh again upon hearing the familiar tune. It only reminds you of your wife; who should be home and in bed with you, but ended up on night-shift instead after hassling a suspect a bit too hard, canceling your planned evening. 

Which leads you to driving the backroads between Westview and Eastview, hoping the journey will tire you out enough that you can sleep. Instead it lands you in the position of blowing past a hidden cop. 

Just your luck. 

You groan as you turn the music down and pull off the road into a flat area of grass. With the lights, you can’t tell if it's a Westview or Eastview officer at first. You have pretty good chances of getting off with a warning if it's one of Agnes’ coworkers. 

But it’s not one of the regular officers. It’s the Chief’s car. You hit your head against the steering wheel. He’s been riding Agnes’ ass for months and will likely give you a hefty ticket just to spite her. 

While you’re hitting your head against the wheel, there’s a knock on your window. You roll it down without looking, “Look, Chief, I know the deal. You can just write me a ticket and I’ll pay it tomorrow.” 

“Oh, will you now?” 

You pause. 

Looking up in disbelief, “Agnes?” 

“That’s Detective O’Connor to you.” Her face doesn’t change from the stern facade, “You were driving pretty recklessly back there. Have you been drinking tonight, ma’am?” 

Subtly as you can manage, you check your side mirror to see if anyone else sits in the police cruiser. It wouldn’t be unlike the Chief to put Agnes through some insane test. No shadows lurk in the other car. 

You drag your eyes back to Agnes. She’s waiting, still just as stoic, but you see the mischief in her eyes. Well, if she wants to play, why not up the stakes?

Tilting your head and smiling, “Of course not, detective. I’ve been a good girl.” 

A split-second pause tells you she wasn’t expecting that. She licks her lips before the act slips back into place. She scoffs. 

“That’s what they all say. Wait here.” Her hand pats the open window before she’s heading back toward the cruiser. 

You watch her walk away in the side mirror with a grin. Her confident gait stirs something in you, always has. 

For a split second you consider throwing the car in drive and peeling out of here. You’re curious to see what Agnes would do. You hope she’d chase you all the way home; that way when you get there you could finally have a taste of what tonight was meant to be. 

You want Agnes painfully. Between work deadlines on your end and long hours on hers, you’ve been too tired to do more than cuddle, or some heavy kissing on a better day. You miss the connection that comes from baring yourselves to one another. And the orgasms, too, of course. 

Agnes is back at your window, breathalyzer in hand. You make a split second decision. 

“Please, detective, I can’t afford another ticket, and my wife will be so mad.” You plead, using that innocent, wide-eyed expression you know turns her on, “Is there anything I can do to… pay it off, per se?” 

To her credit, she doesn’t crack this time, “Are you soliciting an officer of the law, ma’am?” 

“No, of course not! Unless that’s what you want.” 

“Step out of the car.” 

The commanding note in her voice goes straight between your thighs. You open the door and step out, watching her brows raise at only the long nightgown you’re wearing. There’s a chill in the air that makes you shiver. Her eyes are drawn to your chest before she shakes away whatever is going through her mind. 

While you’re enjoying the game, you do hope she’ll let you get back in the car soon. The cold is unmanageable without more substantial clothing. 

Agnes holds up the breathalyzer, “Open your mouth.” 

You do so without thinking. A blush races up your face. Agnes can’t help but smirk. 

It’s not the breathalyzer that finds itself between your lips, but two fingers that settle on your tongue and press. You jolt at the pressure. Tears come to your eyes as you gag, but the weight of her fingers doesn’t ebb. You fight against your gag reflex to curl your tongue around the digits. 

Closing your lips around them, you swirl your tongue like one would around a piece of candy. Even through blurred vision you can see how Agnes’ eyes darken. She leans forward, staring at your lips. 

Her fingers move deeper, pressing harder, fucking your throat. You swallow around them. 

You find your mouth and throat empty as Agnes pulls out. Her hand grabs your face before you can close your mouth and holds it open, fingers wet against your cheek. She grins meanly. 

“Stick out your tongue.” 

The second you do, Agnes spits in your mouth. You whimper. It’s humiliating and you feel yourself clench around nothing. You leave your tongue in the position she demanded, obedient as ever. 

Agnes laughs, “Swallow.” 

Humiliation, in combination with your startling need for her touch, forces the tears to spill over and down your cheeks. The sight of them seems to please her. She’s always loved seeing you thoroughly debased; loves knowing only she can break you down like this. 

Partners in the past did try. Yet they would hesitate, hold back, believing they knew the limits of your desire instead of trusting you. A few would panic when they saw tears in your eyes and pull out of the scene completely. You often found yourself pretending; toning down your desires to ‘acceptable’ levels and leaving yourself unsatisfied to avoid that worried look in your partner’s eyes. 

But you’ve never had to pretend with Agnes. From that first time, she went as far as she wanted, knowing that you were an adult capable of safe-wording if it was too much; it wasn’t. You had been dripping and needy the entire time. You had cried while she sat back and watched you polish her boots with your tongue, and had nearly come undone from the act alone. It was everything you craved—Agnes was everything you craved; trusting, dominating, cruel when it suited, and the most loving partner you’ve ever known. 

You had vowed then and there that you weren’t letting her get away. And how lucky for you that she put a ring on your finger; the ring that is so much more than a symbol of love; but a brand, too, just as you desire. 

“I wonder what your wife would think of you offering yourself up to me,” Agnes muses, “but you’re so eager for it, I can’t help but wonder if she’s not satisfying you properly.” 

“Only you can satisfy me, detective.” You flutter your lashes. 

That draws a real laugh from her. Something inside you preens. You lean forward into Agnes’ space, angling your head for a kiss, but she pulls back. 

“Be that as it may, soliciting an officer is a crime, as is reckless driving.” Her hands reach for her belt, where her handcuffs rest in one of the holsters, “I’m going to have to take you in.” 

Though the idea of being cuffed and fucked however she pleases excites you, you’re not entirely pleased with how your original plan was ruined. Agnes knew where the line was during interrogations and she crossed it. Knowingly. It’s safe to say you’re a little pissed she acted out. 

A mean-spirited voice in your head considers pushing Agnes away entirely, leaving her wet and turned on for the rest of the night shift while you go home and find solace in your favorite toy. The rational part of you knows that no toy can replace your wife, and it’s her you want. You’re just not going to make it easy for her. 

You fall to your knees before she can work the cuffs off her belt. She jolts at the unexpected change. You slam against the ground pretty hard and wince, but don’t dare stop. 

Your hands find her belt buckle. Deftly, you start to undo it, “Please, I can make you feel good. I’ll do anything.” 

Agnes raises her brows. She doesn’t stop you from undoing her belt or slowly lowering the zipper of her pants. There’s a tenseness in her jaw as she thinks over the request. Intent on sealing the deal, you move your hands from the front of her pants; instead leaning forward to place a kiss where they’d just been. 

Looking up through your lashes, you beg, “Please.” 

“Well, since you’re so eager for it.” 

Ignoring the screaming in your knees, you shoot to your feet, capturing Agnes’ lips in a hard kiss. You attack with lips and teeth and tongue. At the same time, you slip your hand inside her pants and past the waistband of her panties. 

She groans against your lips when your fingers play in her wetness. Your fingers ghost over her clit and you grin into the kiss. Two hands settle on your hips and shove, your back hitting the side of your car; it hurts for a moment before you’re once again lost in the feel of your wife, how she’s using her position to grind against your hand, the obscene noises leaving her throat.

Your clit throbs with every roll of her hips. It’s intoxicating that she’s just taking what she wants, using you as a toy to achieve her own pleasure. But the desire between your own legs reminds you of the end goal. 

Agnes’ hips pick up speed, her usual low groans evolving into panting, high-pitched whimpers. She’s so close. You consider letting her have what she wants. 

Moments before she can fall over the edge you pull your hand from her pants. Hands settling on her chest, you shove her back. She jolts and stumbles. Her fucked-out expression from seconds earlier shifts to confusion, then anger. 

“What the fuck?” Agnes snarls. 

“You’ve been bad, detective.” Still leaning against the car, you cross your arms over your chest, “Or should I say Daddy.” 

Agnes stands straighter. There’s steel in her spine now, jaw taught as darkness comes over her expression. Amusement alights inside your chest. 

Her hands begin to unravel the belt from the loops of her pants, “I’m going to paint your backside blue.” 

“I don’t think so.” Your voice is hard. “You see, I had a lovely evening planned for us. Dinner, a movie, clean sheets for us to spend all night ruining. And we didn’t get to enjoy any of it because someone couldn’t control her temper. So you, daddy, are going to fuck me until I decide I’m ready to forgive you.” 

“It’s cute that you think you’re in control, baby.” 

Agnes steps into your space, belt in her hands. You stop her with a hand on her chest before she can get close enough to do anything. 

“I am in control.” 

“Those with the upper hand don’t usually have to state the fact.” 

You tilt your head, “If you don’t give me what I want, you’re not going to touch me for weeks. I’ll fuck myself and all you’ll be able to do is watch. And I’ll stuff all the pairs of panties I ruin into your bag, your pockets… everywhere you go, you’ll be reminded of just what you’re missing.” 

The smug expression slowly slips from her face. She tries to push forward again, but you’re unyielding; clenching your fist in the fabric of her shirt until she feels the subtle bite of your nails. There’s fury and a small trace of fear in her eyes. 

It’s rare that you have the upper hand. Usually Agnes is twelve steps ahead of everyone—you included. But this time she miscalculated, and she’s going to pay for it. 

“Your choice, daddy.”

She scoffs. Shaking her head, a few pieces of her hair free themselves from her low ponytail. They lay in and over her face before she blows them out of the way carelessly. She hasn’t been taking care of it, you can tell; and briefly, you consider if you can get away with commandeering her into taking better care of herself. 

You likely shouldn’t push your luck. Agnes is going to punish you enough for this stunt, you’re sure. 

The belt is tossed onto the ground a few feet away in a silent show of surrender. Her eyes are dark, churning with a mixture of fury and arousal. A brief moment passes where you wonder if you’re taking this a bit too far, but you shove it down; Agnes is an adult just as you are and will tell you if you cross any hard lines. 

“Is the heat on in the cruiser?” You ask. 

She pauses, taken-aback, “Yeah, of course.” 

“Good. You’re going to fuck me in it later. But first—” 

You open the back door of your own car as wide as it can go, just so you can perch on the seat with your feet still outside. With a smile, you open your legs wide. You hadn’t considered this outcome when you left the house for your drive, so your panties are relatively plain, but it doesn’t matter since they’re soaked through. 

Agnes takes a step forward and you hold up a finger. She pauses. You point at the ground. 

Her face goes red, “Not fucking likely.” 

And then she’s on you. She’s holding herself up with one hand on the seat, the other dragging your face to hers. Her body rests perfectly between your legs. With a low moan, you roll your hips against her front. 

Her grip on your face is painful. Thank god her nails are clipped short. 

Agnes pulls away from your mouth to bite and suck at your throat. You throw your head back, still grinding up against her, moaning with abandon. The friction is nice but it isn’t what you wanted. 

“I want you to eat me out.” You force out. 

“I don’t care what you want.” Agnes growls. 

“Oh? Well, I guess I should be prepared to handle my own orgasms for a while, then.” 

As you say that, you stop grinding, and lay fully against the seat, one of your arms snaking its way down your front and between your thighs. You’ve only circled a finger around your clit twice before her hand catches your wrist in a punishing grip. 

“Try it and I’ll tie you to the bed everyday when I go to work.” 

“I made my terms abundantly clear.” 

“You know what you forgot though, brat?” Agnes taunts, lips right next to your ear, “You’re too greedy to settle for your hand or your little toys. It’s only a matter of time before you get bored and come crawling back to me.” 

“Maybe I’ll just crawl to someone else. Agent Vidal has been hanging around.” 

A hand closes around your throat and you whine. She squeezes, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. You roll your hips. 

“I’ll lock you in the house if you even think about it.” Her voice is hard, promising, “You’re mine, baby.” 

“Prove it.” 

That’s the wrong thing to say. 

Agnes pulls back completely. Her hands leave you, the pressure of her body is gone. You look up and she’s standing just far enough away that you can’t touch her. You growl. 

The look on her face is one you’ve seen a dozen times; the very same one she wears when you’re about to endure something you don’t like. But you vow not to let her have the upper hand. Not this time. This time, you’re going to make her bend. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She says. 

The words are like a bucket of cold water over your head. You don’t spend long dwelling on the threat, there’s no time. 

Agnes is halfway back to the police cruiser when you worm your hand into your panties and bury two fingers inside without preamble. Despite being the source of your own pleasure, you jolt, back bowing off the seat. The moan that leaves your lips is exaggerated; pornographic. 

“Oh, yes!” 

You hear her footsteps come to a stop. You don’t dare open your eyes, not yet. The pleasure you’re experiencing is real, even if it is half of what it could be with Agnes’ help, but you have to keep up the act—have to make her jealous of your own fingers. 

Though she hates to admit it, Agnes is jealous in all aspects of life. There’s a bit of healthy competitiveness worked in there that you can admire. Yet some days… some days she comes home fighting mad, hair a mess and muscles clenched tight as she recounts the events that made her that way. And lately they’ve all had the same person involved—

Agent Rio Vidal. 

A loaner agent from the FBI, here to figure out some of the more poignant details of a murder on the Westview-Eastview county line. She’s confident and cutting and painfully attractive. Somehow, she knows how to push every single one of Agnes’ buttons, in work and play. 

You’ve only met her twice and each time Agnes was an animal afterward. The appreciative glances and suggestive words made you blush—and though you won’t admit it, turned you on a good bit—while Agnes could barely hold herself back from attacking the woman. So possessive. So jealous. 

You can use that. 

The door on the other car hasn’t opened and you know she’s watching with rapt attention. You put on a good show, rolling your hips into your one hand while pinching at your chest with the other. You could get off on her watching. 

Another exaggerated, high-pitched moan, “Oh, Agent Vidal!” 

Though the woman is attractive, you can’t imagine anyone but your wife. Agnes doesn’t need to know that. 

Strong hands grab your calves and pull you half-way out of the car. You squeak, eyes snapping open. Agnes looms above you and oh fuck you’re in trouble. 

“You little bitch.” She snarls, hand coming to wrap around your throat.

You try to moan but she doesn’t give you that much air. Another deft hand rips your own from your panties, even going so far as to rip the fabric off completely. There’s the ghost of her fingers above your center. You roll your hips. 

The sensation of loss and blurry edges is usually a huge turn-on; maybe it’s the intense change from oxygen to no oxygen, but you’re struggling more than normal. You tap her wrist three times. 

Agnes pulls away completely. Her hand is off your neck, the other gone from between your thighs. You take in large lungfuls of air and feel your heart-rate slow just a little. A little whine works its way from your throat, though it’s mainly a result of the throbbing between your legs that’s still driving you crazy. 

Your wife’s hands hover over you, eyes concerned, “Honey?” 

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.” You assure, sitting up and kissing one of her palms, “The quick change just… startled me. I’m okay.” 

“Should I… Do you need me to take you home?” 

“Oh no, Agnes O’Connor, you’re going to finish what you started.” Spreading your legs offers an obscene picture of just how soaked you are, made even more tantalizing by the ripped panties clinging to your thigh, “Unless you want me to find someone else who can finish the job.” 

It’s like flipping a switch. 

Overwhelming is a word that could be used to describe Agnes in bed—smothering, even. She has a way of overtaking every single one of your senses at once. Your skin is on fire with her touch, with the faint strands of hair tickling your face. The scent of burnt break-room coffee clings to her jacket. You even taste it when her tongue invades your mouth, moaning obscenely against your lips. 

You like being smothered, though. You crave it; aching for anything that will let you turn your mind off and just feel. 

Agnes pulls back. Her breath is hot against your lips, “You’re such a brat.” 

“Only for you, daddy.” You murmur. 

A shudder passes through her at the name. Her grip tightens on you, near bruising. You moan. 

“Where do you want me?” 

“With your mouth between my legs.” 

“Fingers?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Agnes chuckles, “So you do remember your manners. Interesting.” 

You roll your eyes. To your luck, Agnes doesn’t see—if she had, you would have been punished accordingly. Though you realize things are a bit off-balance with your threat hanging in the air; any other time, Agnes would have you bent anyway she pleased, taking all she wanted until you couldn’t handle any more. 

Being in control is… odd. Not unwanted, but odd. You have to be more aware of yourself, confident in every command that leaves your lips. You’re glad that this is Agnes’ preferred role even if you’re enjoying the change. 

Lips kiss the inside of your thighs and you shudder. When she sinks her teeth in, you squeal, jolting at the change. Your hand falls to the top of her head. 

“Not what I meant!” 

“Oh, then what did you mean?” She taunts. 

“If you don’t make me come right now so help me—” 

The heat of her mouth on you is enough to shut you up. Her tongue drags up your slit with agonizing slowness. She teases at your clit for only a moment before repeating the slow drag, making you whine, pressing her head closer. 

You feel the rumble of her laughter and god help you the vibrations feel amazing. Yet when you try to move your hips for more, her hands keep them pressed firmly to the leather seat. 

Another threat sits on your lips that never comes to pass. With the last slow lick, she fastens her lips around your clit and sucks, hard. It’s painful and wonderful and your back bows off the seat, hands scrambling for anything to clench into. The weeks have been long and you know you’re not going to last. 

“I’m going to come.” You force out. 

She laughs again. That, in combination with her attention focused solely on your clit, sends you straight over the edge. You feel wild, unhinged as your hips move without any guidance from your mind, chasing the waves of pleasure that make your every muscle go taut. 

But when the pleasure subsides, Agnes doesn’t stop. She pushes two fingers inside and curls them in that way you like so much. You clench around them, though you ache, not ready for more so soon. 

“I can’t—Please, I can’t.” You beg. 

“One more, baby. You can give me that, can’t you?” 

“I can’t.” 

“You can.” 

And you do. Her fingers know every inch of you well, her mind cataloging every spot that makes you whine, every move she performs that sends you over the edge. She calls on that knowledge as the pads of her fingers rub against that spot inside you with abandon until you can’t breathe, shrieking and moaning loud enough that you worry someone will hear you miles away. 

The pleasure tenses your body so tight that you worry the muscles will never relax again. It hurts in that delicious way only Agnes can bring out. 

When you do relax, she’s licking gently at you, collecting the flavor on her tongue and savoring it like a fine wine. You twitch. The hand you have in her hair pushes as you attempt to slide further onto the seat, away from her mouth. 

“No more,” you beg, “please.” 

“Am I forgiven?” 

You laugh, breathless, “Not quite.” 

You tug her up wordlessly until the weight of her is draped over you. It’s nice, comforting to feel her close. Her warmth helps fight against the cold biting at your lower half. Sighing, you bury your face in her neck, your hand coming up to lazily play with her hair. 

Agnes accepts the touch. She traces little patterns on your hip over the nightgown, soft and quiet. You can still see the red and blue lights from your hiding place in her neck. 

“Why do you have the Chief’s car?” You ask. 

She scoffs, “Mine broke down three hours into the shift. Had to call the Chief and walk all the way to his house to get the cruiser.” 

“What? Agnes, why didn’t you call me?” 

“I wanted you to enjoy your night in, honey.” 

You think about arguing, but you recognize the exhaustion in her voice, and decide not to push it—for now. It’s an argument you can save for later. 

“So what was it, the battery? I thought we just replaced it.” 

“I think the old girl might just be done for. We’ve had her for a while.” Agnes shrugs. 

“But that’s… we brought Nicky home in that car.” You whisper, chest aching. 

Another piece of your life—connected to your baby—that you won’t get to keep. Agnes tenses, her breathing growing ragged, and you feel terrible; she’s likely already thought about this the whole shift, spent all these hours remembering it alone. That’s why she didn’t call you—she didn’t want to drag you bag into the deep end of the pain, too. 

You press a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. No wonder she took the first opportunity to play with you, she needed the distraction. 

“I’m sorry, my love.” You murmur.

“Not your fault, honey. These things happen.” 

She sounds less and less like herself with every moment. You don’t want to shove the grief aside—the grief counselor said that only made things worse—but this isn’t how you want to handle it; Agnes draped over your freshly-debauched form in the backseat of your car. 

This is a conversation, a breakdown for home, where the two of you can take all the time you need to soak in the new loss. You need to distract her away from this. 

“Will the force offer you one of their vehicles?” 

“Yeah. They should.” 

“Where did you break down?” 

“By the bridge on Old Forest.” 

Perfect. 

“Let’s give her a proper sendoff, then.” 

Agnes pauses. The look she gives you is questioning, as if not quite believing your suggestion, but she knows better—knows you’re serious about this. 

“Alright.” 

Which is how you find yourself halfway across town, on a back road with no streetlights, pulling off perilously close to a ditch. Agnes' car is unmistakable even in the dark—from the extra mirror on the hood reflecting the moonlight to the dent in the back bumper she never got fixed. You feel suddenly overwhelmed as you trace your fingers over the body. 

So many memories, good and bad. Your late-night trysts in the back seat. Bringing Nicky home. The back seat full of his stinky sports gear. Agnes’ old case files winding up on the floor. 

Agnes comes up and drapes her jacket over your shoulders. The warmth of her body has seeped into the cloth, now blocking out the chill in the air, “This might not be the best idea.” 

You raise a brow, “Cold feet, detective?” 

“Mine are nice and warm. Yours, however...” 

She looks up and down your scantily-clad form with a worried furrow of her brow. It’s sweet, but not needed. 

“I don’t think our plans will keep me anything but warm.” You smile, leaning back against the car while pulling Agnes close, until every inch of her is pressed against your front. Her hands settle on your hips as she kisses you with a softness belaying the vulnerability she still feels, “Unlock the car.” 

“Honey—” 

“Agnes, would you rather I went home?” You murmur. 

“Of course not.” 

“Then what do you want?”

“Beats me.”

“You know what I want?” 

Using your leverage against the vehicle, you draw one of your feet up the inside of Agnes’ leg, careful to press every part of yourself against her. Her warmth radiates through her flannel and jeans and you smile. 

She raises a brow, “I’m sure I can guess.” 

“I want you to bend me over in the backseat of this car like you did that first time. You remember, don’t you? How pissed you were that I’d been teasing you for five dates.” You laugh at the memory, “You couldn’t even make it out of the restaurant parking lot.” 

“You were so loud we almost got caught.” She recalls, voice low, gravelly. 

“There’s no one around to catch us now.” 

Agnes wraps one of her arms around your waist and uses it to tug you sideways, making quick work of unlocking the car. With the hand not on your waist, she opens the back door, and eases her jacket from your shoulders. She lays it out on the cold seats with the warm side up. 

Not for the first time, you’re moved by her consideration of your comfort. It would be so easy for a partner to disregard the little things if it meant getting to the end goal faster; but not Agnes. You reward her with a long, slow kiss. 

When she pulls away, there’s a fond little smile on her lips. She pats your hip, “On your hands and knees.” 

You obey without question. Crawling onto the backseat, you’re reminded of just how confined the space of a car is. You have to keep your head bowed so as not to hit your head on the roof. It’ll be worth your while, but you know the two of you will be feeling the adverse effects of this choice for days. 

Agnes follows and shuts the door behind her. She works her way into the backseat until not a bit of space exists between the two of you. Every inch of her front is pressed against you, draped over you like a warm blanket. You push your backside back into her crotch, teasing. 

“I should’ve sent you home to get your purple.” You say. 

“Be good and you can have my cock later.” 

Warm fingertips trail up the back of your thigh until they snake under the hem of your nightgown. The soothing heat of her touch is lovely compared to the bite of the cold air. You lean into it. 

“Yes, daddy.” You sigh. 

Her body pulls away from yours and you turn, confused. A sharp slap to your backside makes your breath stutter, your core clenching around nothing. Your toes curl. 

“Interesting that you want to be good now, when you’ve been testing me all night.” 

“What can I say? I’m motivated by rewards.” 

You’re satisfied that Agnes seems to be in the moment, rather than locked up in the memories in her head. Intent on keeping it that way, you lean back into her, arching so you can match her entirely. Her muscles go taut and relax and being able to feel it makes you ravenous. 

Two fingers push your ripped panties aside and begin to drag up your slit, teasing. It should be noted that you are trying to be good for her, offering the control she takes to so well. You like to think she can tell, too. 

When she slips her fingers inside you without torturing you further, you’re sure she knows. 

You push back, desperate. You want more of her and bad. It’s as if the orgasms she gave you less than an hour ago never happened. Every muscle in your body quakes with the knowledge of what only Agnes can give you. And you want it so deeply that it threatens to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Please.” You beg without prompting, “Please, more.” 

A split-second hesitation belays her surprise, but she does slip another finger inside, stretching you even wider. You can’t stop how you move, nor the noises that come out of your mouth. You feel cursed with hunger only she can sate. 

It’s this car, this backseat, and the memories here that are driving you so mad. It’s the life attached to it that you never thought you would get; a family, a future, a wife who loves you despite all the ugly parts others had run from. It’s the years you haven’t had to live out alone, the pain you’ve shared. It’s the fact that this act was once a beginning and now it’s an end. 

Her lips press against the back of your neck, impossibly gentle, so unlike the role she’s meant to be playing. Something inside you breaks. 

“Agnes—“ You choke out. 

“It’s okay, honey.” 

You let go. 

You let go from holding yourself back—fucking yourself on her fingers until you shriek with pleasure. You let go of the ball of emotions in your chest, of hunger and pleasure and guilt. You let go of the pain and let tears spill over onto your cheeks. 

It’s not the best orgasm you’ve ever had, but it doesn’t need to be. It’s a goodbye to this piece of your life. It’s an end. And it hurts just the same as it feels good to embrace the potential of something new. 

Agnes holds you, steady as ever. You feel the dampness of her own tears on your neck. 

You turn and lay on your back, welcoming the weight of her. You use your thumbs to wipe away the tears coming from her beautiful blue eyes. 

“Am I forgiven, or do we have to go another round?” She asks.

You grin, not taking your hands from her face, “You’re forgiven, my love.” 

“Thank god.” 

Agnes drops her head until it rests on your chest. You laugh, extracting the hair tie so you can run your fingers through the length of it. Her arms wrap around you as much as they can. 

She presses a kiss to your chest, over where your heart is. You gently work through a knot in between your fingers. The windows are clouded with perspiration. Beads of water reflect what little moonlight peeks through the trees. Moonlight or no, you know every dip and curve of your wife’s form, and could identify every part of her without sight. 

The stale coffee smell has worn off, replaced by the faint undertones of the cologne she wears each morning. It’s deep and musky and comforting. 

Maybe it’s the weight of her head on your chest in combination with the memories that makes you speak, “Have you ever thought about us trying again?” 

She tilts her head so she can look up into your eyes without lifting from her resting place. Her brows are furrowed.

“Trying again?”  

The weight of her beautiful eyes on you almost makes you change the subject. These conversations are so much easier without that layer of intimacy. But you’ve started something and you’ll be damned if you don’t finish it. 

“To be parents.” You whisper. 

“I’m a little past due on that, baby.” Her smile is self-deprecating. 

“I’m not.” 

“You never wanted to carry. I remember that much.” 

“That was then.” You continue smoothing through her hair, “Now… If you want to try again, I’ll do it. I want to do it.” 

You can’t decipher the look in her eyes. She doesn’t pull away, but she’s tense. 

“We don’t need to decide right now. We have time.” 

She nods, “Alright.” 

“You’ll still be daddy, even if you aren’t my baby-daddy.” 

“That was terrible.” 

It doesn’t stop her from grinning, nor does it stop you from laughing. Something in the tension eases. You can’t lean down and kiss her like this, so you press a kiss to the pads of your fingers, and press them to her lips. She nips at them playfully. 

The quiet is nice, but you can feel the cold settling into your bones. You need to be back in a heated car before you get sick. 

“When is your shift over?” 

“In a few hours.” 

You nod, figuring out what time she’ll come home and how it fits into your schedule, “I have nothing after work if you want me to make good on those orgasms I owe you.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

It takes some time, but you and Agnes manage to untangle yourselves and worm your way out of the back seat. She sits, keeping you wrapped in her coat, until the inside of your own car is nice and warm. That earns her a few lingering kisses. 

She trails you on the drive home before speeding off to do god knows what during the last few hours of her shift. And when you fall asleep—already feeling sore—an eagerness sets in your chest of what awaits. With an end, a new beginning. 

[blasphemous-lies-and-deceit]

absurd terms of endearment

"Delivery time!" Gerry called out as he barged into the Archives. To his delight, he seemed to have caught Michael unawares, his head jerking up from his papers to look at him with wide shocked eyes. His surprise turned into happiness as a smile spread across his face, the exact expression that had made Gerry fall in love with him the first time he'd seen it lighting up the gloom of the Archives.

"Oh," he squeaked in delight. "I don't remember ordering out."

"That's because this is a surprise, you silly sausage," Gerry teased, setting the container of homemade soup on his desk and rounding it to give his boyfriend a hug. Michael spluttered a laugh, his cheeks turning adorably pink.

"Silly sausage," he snorted. "Like you're one to talk, sugarplum."

"Oh, that's how it is?" Gerry sat on the corner of Michael's desk, a fluttery happiness in his chest at the lovely back and forth. "Careful, my warm cinnamon churro, you might be starting something you can't finish."

"And what might that be, my sweet boba tea?" Michael asked, fluttering his eyelashes as he leant back in his seat. "What am I starting?" As if he didn't know already, as if he didn't have a glint of mischief in his eyes that Gerry loved so much.

"It seems like you're trying to out-nickname me, mister fairy floss." Gerry's words drew a snort out of Michael, covering his mouth with his hand to hold back his giggles. "But if you can't handle a few sweet epitaphs, I don't think you can keep up with me."

"Now listen here, you vanilla macaron-" Michael started, but stopped when Gerry burst out laughing. "See, you can't handle it either!"

"Fuck," Gerry gasped, trying to pull himself back together. It was too fun to stop. "You're pushing it, cream puff," he warned, sending Michael into another round of giggles. "Don't make me switch to another food group, you deep-fried mozzarella stick."

"Oh no you don't, you Sunday roast," Michael shot right back with a grin. "I'm sweet, you're savory."

"Yeah, you'd know that, wouldn't you, my iced lemon cake." Gerry added a lewd wink to his words, and Michael shot forward in his seat, a determined glint in his eye.

"You greasy morning fry-up, you don’t know what you've gotten into," he said, words loaded with warmth. "My succulent steak with potatoes, I could eat you for breakfast."

"Wish you would, my chocolate truffle," Gerry chuckled, leaning in as well until they were nearly within kissing distance. "All these foody endearments are making me hungry."

"Don't you worry about that, my tender soup dumpling, I'll make sure you're very well fed," Michael purred heavily, his lustful eyes heavy as they trailed over Gerry, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Just you wait til I get you home. I'll load you right up with my sweet cre-"

"Enough!" A sharp yell cut them off, followed quickly by Gertrude appearing in the doorway of her office, looking incredibly cross. "Enough," she said again as Gerry toppled off the desk, laughing so hard his sides hurt, as Michael crumpled in his seat giggling just as hard. "No more. Pet names and euphemisms are no longer allowed in the Archives!"

"Oh, come on, Gee Gee-" Gerry started, only to be stopped by her accusing finger.

"Gerard Keay, I will banish you from these Archives, do not test me," she snapped, even as he continued to laugh. "And Michael, you can not eat that in here, no food is allowed near the documents."

"Oh, do we care about that now, gumdrop?" Michael shot back brightly, getting to his feet to help Gerry up from the floor. "Fine, I'll taking my break now. Since we're so hungry." He pulled Gerry close and pressed an obnoxious kiss to his cheek, earning another disgusted noise from Gertrude. Gerry grinned wickedly and wrapped his arms around Michael's middle, tugging him in tight.

"Careful, love, we don't want to offend Gertrude's delicate sensibilities," Gerry teased, earning an eyeroll and scoff from both Assistant and Archivist. It was over the top, but it was fun, and Gerry loved being able to joke around like that. Even if their lives were dark and horrible, at least he had some brightness to keep them going.

[hvrtbroken]

I'M DRUNK . defne realises it like a light's been turned on inside her . it makes her want to giggle but that'd be a VERY obvious sign that she's drunk . a foggy part within her wonders if thomas is drunk too . he seems slightly more chatty . more smiley . SHE WANTS TO KISS HIM . the feeling is unreal . it's a desire she's never had before , not this strong . she's staring at him and all she wants is to lean against him . she likes this moment with them . every moment with him really . it shines so bright . it leaves her feeling warm and fuzzy and SATED . defne's grin only gets bigger at how he endears her over the condom talk . her eyes flick down and over him , trying not to check him out as painfully obviously as she wants to . she's sure her tipsiness only makes it more clear than ever , but the alcohol thrums within her and ensures she doesn't feel it . not yet . that's a tomorrow problem . he looks both laidback and shy all at once . " so . . . what else do you like ? or not like ? " defne drags the words out , her tongue slightly heavier than usual , making her words sound flirtatious and suggestive and mortifying all at once . she doesn't care if he won't answer . she likes that she got this far .

defne laughs loud and hard , her eyes squeezing closed as she does . she can't imagine ever doing ANYTHING without thomas by her side . let alone TO thomas . she's not ready . she doesn't think so anyways . defne reopens her eyes , eyeing him up and down yet again but this time more discreetly . she tries not to linger on any part of him but it's hard when he's so strong and sturdy and BUILT . the clothes fit him well - it's not fair . " what did you usually cook for yourself ? " she asks . she can't quite picture a thomas in the kitchen . she wants to see it but can't just yet . mainly she only sees thomas she knows him . she'd love to know him in any other way as well , though . him in a kitchen . him with a car . him with her . " HMM " defne considers his question back to her . " anything with rice i could do a good job at . " she admits , and tries to ignore the way her stomach wants to grumble in desire . she misses warm rice , slivered almonds , meat falling off the bone and warm , thick sauces . she misses being in a kitchen . " middle eastern food was my thing. mansaf . tagine . " she smiles to herself , unable to stop the memories flicking through her brain like a picture book . " are you good with spicy food ? " defne asks , trying not to imagine a world in which she'd cook for him and they'd be in a kitchen together and it's NOT the end of the world .

THE WAY THOMAS LAUGHS . he has no idea . she's never met someone so frustratingly clueless , yet smart all at the same time . " you're humble . " she retorts , with a playful eyeroll . how can he not know the effect he has on people ? how he makes her feel ? NOT JUST HER , EITHER . it's so painfully obvious . " you're the kinda guy who never knew when a girl had a crush on you . " she's speaking from experience as she points her index finger at him . defne's eyes can't stop drinking in his every move . his hand on the glass . the way he sits . she wants to memorise him , paint him , sing and talk about him . it's such a lame crush that she even wants to cringe at herself . defne tries not to feel happy at the way he dismisses ghosting people . she wants to dig more and ask if he's a ONE NIGHT STAND GUY . but that's not quite part of the game . she doesn't care that it's not her turn . she picks up her glass again , body fully turned to him , leaning in slightly closer . " never have i ever . . . " ok the alcohol is VERY clearly working now . she pushes the envelope more . " had sex in public . "

alcohol has made him bolder... or more like completely shameless, somehow. in any other case he would be appalled at the way too personal information being thrown his way. right now, his imagination is running WILD and he's more than okay with LETTING IT; as if toying with it in his mind he imagines her below him: her body, warm, wet and inviting. his common sense ends up winning the battle and a shiver runs down his spine which he plays off as being cold by taking a quick sip of his drink, though he does feel a very different kind of heat traveling all over his body... pooling on the tip of his ears ( not one to blush but that's his telltale sign of embarrassment. ) " a lot of people don't, for some reason. i don't really mind. " he can tell she's being serious too, which doesn't make things ANY easier but... that's all he's going to give. it's been more than what he'd be comfortable with sober, and he DOESN'T want to feel awkward when this liquid courage isn't going through his veins. " can't be the first... i still need to show you what to do. maybe third? " he retorts with a grin, feeling happy to settle back into non - dangerous conversation. even more so when she distances even FURTHER from it, allowing him the chance to think about something else, something inconspicuous such as cooking of all things. " hmm... i wouldn't really know, " he says first, but is still thinking about it. he DOES know how to cook, had to learn at some point. he considers it to be an essential skill for anyone. most of the time though he would do it for himself, to fit his own palate. he RARELY cooked for more than two people but when he did he didn't get any complaints. didn't get that much praise either so... he's not sure. " only cooked for myself back then and if it was up to me i'd say i'm excellent at it. i can follow recipes too but if you put me in the kitchen and said i need to come up with something to feed an entire group i'd be lost. " he shrugs, everyone has their own skills. " you said you were good at it, no? what's your favorite thing to make? or... what got you the most compliments? " he's curious now and it shows. most of the time they talk about HIM, his skills; or he's teaching her something new so they talk about things she's not familiar with. this was her forte and he's eager to see how she speaks about something she actually likes. thomas can't help but chuckle softly at her comment, completely missing the implications of it, how she's bundled herself up with the rest. " i don't think that's the case. there's implicit trust between people and most medics... plus you kinda have to be nice to the person that could potentially save your life if something BAD happens, no? " he's humble enough to try to look at it a different way. he doesn't say it's always been like this, even back in the hospital. he laughs again at her remark, " takes one to know one? " he replies, though he knows it's childish but all for the sake of having a good time. he shakes his head this time, hand wrapping around the glass while fingers tap against it absentmindedly. " nope, completely innocent. i don't ghost people... " one night stands WEREN'T something he did too often either but he thinks it's obvious too, almost implicit with how casual sex isn't his thing.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

it was just going to be a few warmup doodles but then she infected the rest of the page like the ever eternal and spreading spores. hod!!! hod. hod :)

[squorttle-pox]

please. i need alastor with his hair up so we can see the side of his head. second set of ears or smooth flesh prairie?

[sysig]

Now that they can, would they want to spend a lot of time together? (Patreon)

[pokemon-ecologist]

The biggest challenge is that her flesh is very absorbent without the membrane to protect her, any product used to help her moisturize has to be benign enough that it won't cause harm if it leeches into her system...

I've found that a dilute non-toxic silicone jelly works well, outside of just making sure she's regularly soaked in clean water. Vaseline would be ideal, but unfortunately after the oil spill she developed an insensitivity to petroleum based products.

Other than all that, she has an odd calcium deficiency that some doctors think might be another result of whatever genetic defect she has. She gets supplements for that though.

You're a professor specialising in genetic conditions (among other things), yes?

I thought you might be interested to learn about my Gastrodon, Moran. I rescued her as a Shellos from a reef that had experienced an oil tanker spill, and was quick to discover that she was affected very acutely. More so than most of her peers in the area.

I came to discover that she lacked the protective membrane of mucus that most Gastrodon have. Instead, her squishy flesh is just porous and open to the world.

Come to find she has a genetic mutation that causes the glands that would produce said mucus to instead just grow odd crumbly keratinous cysts.

To prevent constant invasive treatment, her glands were injected with a solution that basically solidified them and stopped their function.

Now, after recovering from the spill, her only real symptoms are being very dry and even weaker to fire types than the standard.

Thought you might find that interesting.

Oh, wow! Sorry, for the delay in response, but that IS quite fascinating. Have you noticed any other symptoms? And that poor dear, those cysts must have been awful. I’m glad she was able to get some kind of relief. Have you been able to find any way to protect her skin? None of my ‘mons have that specific problem, but a couple, like my eevee Joan, have sores and I have to use Vaporine to protect their skin and things