#LOOK AT HOW PRETTY THAT FIRST SHOT IS COME ON

[rafesangelita]

♡ after receiving sex dice as a gag gift from your girlfriends, courtesy of your early galentine’s day party, you decide to bring them into the bedroom and rafe is surprisingly on board..

warnings: sex dice lol, established relationship, flirty banter, laughing during sex, oral sex (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex, so many descriptions of positions please bare with me, slight degradation, praise, rafe’s d game is a1 (!!!), marathon sex (?), overstimulation, crying, squirting, multiple orgasms, cream pie

a/n: now presenting… ‘ROLL THE DICE!’ 🤍 i felt like i was at war while trying to explain these positions in clear detail lol, just know i tried my best!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 2.4k

rafe had been eyeing the pink gift bag you brought back from your best friend’s house, his curiosity only growing when you refused to let him see what was inside. “just let me see! what is it? girl stuff?” you laughed, taking the bag in your hands. “you could say that..” your teasing tone was torturing him, the anticipation making rafe groan. “come on!” he finally reached for the bag, snatching it at the same time you pulled, making everything in the flimsy gift bag fall onto your bed. “well, that’s great..” you whispered, watching as your boyfriend inspected the contents.

“pink condoms.. we don��t use those. chocolates, a face mask, a sephora gift card, some earrings, and.. hey, what’s in this red pouch?” your cheeks heated as he pulled on the drawstring, two pink dice falling into his hand. “oh.. babe, this is sex dice!” he laughed, glancing up at you incredulously as you hid your face in your hands. “it’s just a silly little gag gift, nothing more.” you waved it off, taking a seat next to him on your shared bed. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think it’d be fun to try out, but knowing rafe, you knew he wasn’t really one for games.

he studied them, flipping the many facets of the dice. “..i don’t know, they have some pretty good positions on here,” he shrugged, “what do you think?” your eyes shot up to meet his, a pang of excitement lighting up in your tummy. “r-really?!” you smiled, your boyfriend pulling you on top of his lap before he nodded. “yeah, look in that pouch for what the number dice means.” you obliged, taking the small folded up piece of paper that was the instructions. “oh, wow.. the number dice determines how many rounds we go.” rafe looked down at the small thing and laughed.

“it goes up to twelve,” your eyes widened as he handed you the acrylic piece, “go ahead and roll it.” you rolled onto your side, tossing the dice for both of you. “three.” rafe was starting to get excited now, his lips trailing along your neck as he gave you the dice with the positions on it. you two were easily doing more than that amount regularly. you giggled when his breath tickled your skin, your head moving to the side to allow him more access. rafe palmed you through your top, a moan leaving your lips as he ran his tongue along your flesh.

“roll the dice before i decide the positions for us.” he groaned, pressing a kiss to your jaw. sighing, you did as he said, reading the positions out loud for him. “the first one is..” you trailed off, “sixty-nine.” you laughed. rafe hummed approvingly, moving his gaze down to the comforter where you tossed the dice again. “next one is.. butterfly?” rafe mumbled a ‘we’ll look that up in a second.’ before you announced the last one. “which leaves us to do.. full nelson.” rafe might as well have jumped up and cheered by the way he excitedly shook you by your shoulders. “full nelson?! fuck, yeah!”

deciding it would be best to go in order of the dice, you and rafe found yourselves settling into your sheets, both of your clothes long gone as you turned your back to him, swinging a leg over his torso. rafe was shameless in staring at your glistening cunt, the sight of your wet folds making him take his bottom lip between teeth. “you’re so fucking pretty down here..” he marveled, taking the pads of his thumbs on both of your puffy lips before spreading them open, your needy clit revealing itself to him. you moaned, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock as he squeezed the globes of your ass.

you adjusted yourself a little bit so you were more comfortable, scooting up closer to rafe’s face as he groaned at the proximity. he was already hard just by looking at you up close like this. “can we start, baby? i need to taste you already.” you hummed sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to his tip. while you started off slow, rafe dove right in, wrapping his large arms around your thighs to keep you in place. you gasped when his tongue circled your sensitive bud, your hips bucking at the sudden intrusion. “that feels so good, rafe!” you whined, deciding to put your mouth to better use and finally wrap your lips around his aching length.

“fuck!” he cursed, his fingertips digging into your skin as your tongue worked him skillfully. you knew what drove rafe over the edge, you knew what made him lose his breath and what made his chest feel like it was going to cave in. “ah, shit, you’re so good at that.” his eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head when he felt himself hit the back of your throat. rafe landed a harsh smack to your ass, the stinging sensation making you whimper. swallowing around his cock, you waited until you had tears running down your cheeks before pulling off of him with a sharp intake for air.

rafe could just imagine how much of a mess you looked like right now. swollen lips, watery eyes, spit and precum dribbling down your chin.. fuck he was tempted to drag you back up just to admire your pretty face. “you’re driving me crazy.” he huffed out, sucking your clit into his mouth where his teeth very slightly grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves. “please don’t stop!” rafe had no intentions of doing so, your boyfriend’s bruising grip on your thighs making you unable to move away from him. rafe knew you were close to cumming whenever you tried to run away from it.

swirling your tongue around his throbbing head, rafe felt the familiar tension start to build up in the pit of his stomach. he continued lapping at your sweetness until you started bobbing your head up and down his length, basically fucking your face with his cock. the wet sounds mixed with your moans was about to make rafe paint your face, but he decided against it last minute. “stopstopstopstopstop,” he pinched your side, “wanna’ save my cum for when i fill up this perfect cunt.” despite wanting to make him finish anyways, you did as he said, mumbling a ‘okay, ray..’

in almost no time, your thighs were trembling around his head, your nails raking down his skin as waves of pure euphoria washed over you, your orgasm hitting you deep in your tummy. with the side of your face resting on his thigh, you whined helplessly as your hips moved on their own accord, your hand still languidly stroking his length. you were begging him at this point for him to slow down the work on your poor overstimulated clit, your pleas going through one ear and straight out the other. “please, no more— i can’t do it!” you shrieked. rafe’s chest filled with pride knowing you were most likely ‘fucked out’ already without actually getting fucked yet.

you were struggling to move as rafe didn’t slow down his movements on your clit, another rubber band in your tummy snapping as he made you cum again, back to back. you laid there, completely at his mercy as you convulsed in his arms, your mouth open in a silent moan while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you felt like you had transcended into another dimension, your body simply floating away somewhere else. it wasn’t until you let out a choked sob that rafe gave you a final lick, his face shining with your succulence as he massaged your skin to bring you down from your high.

how, how were you supposed to go two more rounds after that? while you were laying there, your limbs feeling like jelly, rafe was googling the butterfly position and smirking to himself as he pulled up the visual. you had something else coming if you thought you were done for right now. rafe on the other hand was just getting started. gently rolling you over, rafe stood at the edge of your bed before yanking your ankles and securing your legs to his shoulders. you moaned when you felt his heavy cock sitting between your folds, your eyes meeting his as he pressed kisses to your ankles.

“you good?” he rested his hands in the crease where your thighs and your hips met, rubbing soothing circles there until you giggled softly. “not really..” rafe smiled, threading his fingers through yours. “tell me when you want to stop, baby, it’s all you.” you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt him teasing your clit with his tip. you loved how attentive rafe was. not only towards your wellbeing, but to the little things that made you whimper and squirm. “son of a bitch..” he cursed, slowly sliding into you with ease. your back arched off of the soft sheets, your eyebrows knitting together as he filled you to the hilt.

“fuck!” no matter how many times you and rafe had each other like this, the feeling of him filling you up and your velvety walls welcoming him in was unlike any other. rafe pulled out before thrusting back in with full force, his head rolling to the side as you cried out. you kept your eyes trained on his face, occasionally stealing glances at his toned stomach and biceps. he was truly a sight to see. your tits bounced with every thrust, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as his lower abdomen smacked the back of your thighs. “you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, “always so fuckin’ perfect.”

rafe picked up his pace, the force of his thrusts pushing you further up the bed until he had to pull you down to the edge again. you moaned as his cock continuously nudged that sweet spot inside of you, your legs now shaking around his head while he managed to get his fingers on your clit again. you were still so sensitive from your last orgasm, you couldn’t help but jolt at the hard circles being rubbed on your sensitive bud once again. rafe was so close, but he wanted to hold off from cumming for as long as possible, preferring to make you finish around him first instead.

“i can’t!” you gasped, “it hurts, rafe.” as soon as you said those words, he stopped. “yeah? it’s too much for you?” you nodded, your thighs shutting around his hand in response. he leaned down, keeping your legs on his shoulders as he kissed you sloppily. “would it make you feel better if we stopped?” you laughed, stroking the underside of his jaw with your finger. “do you hear me tapping out?” you shot back, “let’s try full nelson.” rafe has been waiting for this moment for a reallyyyy long time. the only reason why you two never got to it and made it a point to try it was unknown to him, but thank goodness for sex dice, right?

you didn’t have to tell him twice. he was already pulling you on top of him as soon as he got the okay. “i can’t believe this is happening.” you smiled as you lifted your legs, rafe wasting no time in bringing his arms up and over until his hands rested on the back of your neck, securing your thighs to your shoulders. your eyes widened slightly as you realized just how exposed and compromising this position was. your cunt was on full display, your folds threatening to open on their own as your head was forced to be faced down. “you alright?” rafe grunted, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“uh huh..” you sounded uneasy, a laugh falling from rafe’s lips as he adjusted himself to prod at your entrance. “don’t worry, i got you.” was the last thing he said before you watched him enter you agonizingly slow. your lips parted at the sight. rafe kept going until he bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. you swear you’ve never felt him this deep before, it was almost like he was in your tummy. “oh my god..” you whimpered, your eyes watering at how full you were. rafe was fighting every urge not to spill into you, his eyes screwing shut as he began a steady pace.

“shit, you’re wrapped around me so fuckin’ tight, m’not gonna last.” he said through gritted teeth. you were hiccuping and panting as he thrusted into you from below, the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin bouncing off of your bedroom walls. rafe angled his hips in a way that made you shriek, a knowing smile making its way to his lips as you now had tears streaming down your face. “i bet you look like a fucking mess right now.” he cursed, using one of his hands to snake down your side before giving your clit a small pinch. your head shot back while you looked up at the ceiling helplessly.

“r-rafe..” you were barely able to get his name out, your hands flying to hold onto his arm. you felt an unfamiliar pressure building up in the pit of your stomach as he continued rubbing your poor bud into your second orgasm of the night. “let it go go for me, ‘pretty, let me feel it.” you couldn’t even shut your thighs because of his strength forcing them open, a shaky breath emitting from your throat as your high ripped right through you, rendering you speechless almost immediately. rafe made sure to watch you intently, the sight of you unraveling making him follow suit.

it wasn’t until you felt a stream of wetness flow between your thighs that your eyes shot open in surprise. “did i just—” rafe let go of the grip he had on your neck and instead forced you to look up at him while he finally painted your walls with his seed. he was so turned on right now he couldn’t even think straight. rafe kissed you as his movements came to a stop, your thighs still trembling in his arms while he pulled out. he groaned when he felt you clench around him, both of you feeling absolutely spent. “i think i made a mess.” rafe laughed softly, nodding his head. “yeah? that makes two of us then.”

[charmed-quill]

The Bet// F.W x Reader Part 2

authors note at end

Summary: Fred Weasley and y/n make a bet: whoever gets a date to the Yule Ball first wins. But what starts as harmless competition devolves into full-blown war.

Word count: 4.7k

Previous Part

Look, Fred Weasley wasn’t the worst person in the world to go to the Yule Ball with.  

Not y/n’s first choice, not by a long shot, but also not the worst.  

Still, standing in her dorm, adjusting her dress for what felt like the millionth time, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off.  

It wasn’t like Fred had never seen her in a dress before. They’d been friends for six years, of course he had. 

But this? 

This was different. The whole "dressing up" thing was throwing her for a loop.  

The last time she wore something this fancy was her cousin’s wedding when she was ten, and even then, she had hated every second of it. She still remembered the way the lace had itched against her skin, how uncomfortable the frilly socks had been inside her too-tight shoes.  

But this dress it wasn’t stiff or scratchy, wasn’t something her mum had picked out last minute. 

It was hers.

 And it looked…good.  

Angelina had swept her hair into an elegant bun, leaving just a few soft curls framing her face, while Alicia had carefully applied her makeup, just enough to highlight her features without making her feel like she was wearing a mask.  

Y/n barely recognized herself.  

It was uncanny, looking in the mirror and seeing someone who actually—Merlin forbid—looked pretty.  

She swallowed, fingers tightening slightly on the fabric of her dress.  

It was just one night. Just Fred. Nothing had to change.  

Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself, ignoring the way her stomach flipped at the thought of heading downstairs.

—

Fred stood by the fireplace, hands stuffed in his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The common room buzzed with energy, students heading off to the Great Hall in clusters, adjusting dress robes and exchanging last-minute compliments.  

George, Lee, Angelina, and Alicia had left just moments ago, after much teasing and knowing smirks thrown his way.  She’ll be down in a moment, they had assured him before disappearing through the portrait hole.  

But it had been more than a moment.  

Fred huffed, glancing up the dormitory stairs. Had she changed her mind? He wouldn’t blame her. Their whole arrangement, or whatever you’d call it, was far from ideal. A last-minute   truce  , born out of mutual stubbornness and sabotage. He knew y/n hadn’t exactly been   thrilled   about going with him.  

Still… part of him didn’t want to be left standing alone in the common room like some abandoned fool.  

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and took a step toward the stairs. If she wasn’t coming down, he’d bloody well—  

The door opened.  

Fred froze.  

His words, his thoughts,   everything   slammed to a stop as y/n stepped into the warm glow of the common room.  

She looked…  

 Merlin.   

Fred wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, he’d seen her in dresses before, plenty of times. 

But this? This was something else entirely.  

The firelight cast a golden hue over her, catching on the delicate fabric of her dress as it moved with her. Her hair, swept up with effortless elegance, framed her face in soft tendrils, highlighting the curve of her jaw and the brightness of her eyes. Her makeup was subtle, just enough to make every little detail stand out, her lips, her cheekbones, the way her lashes fluttered slightly as she scanned the room.  

She was beautiful.  

And Fred?  

Fred was stunned.

He barely managed to school his expression before she looked up, meeting his gaze.  

"Got tired of waiting?" she teased, stepping forward, smoothing her hands over the fabric of her dress.  

Fred cleared his throat, forcing himself to breathe properly. "Thought you’d done a runner," he said, managing a smirk. "Was ready to heroically charge up the stairs and rescue you."  

Y/n rolled her eyes. "You just wanted an excuse to break into the girls' dormitory."  

Fred chuckled, but it came out almost   nervous, and since when was he, nervous   around her?  

His eyes flicked over her once more, like his brain was still trying to process that this was   actually y/n standing in front of him.  

"You clean up alright, y/l/n," he said, voice lighter, teasing, though there was something else beneath it—something even he wasn’t sure he wanted to acknowledge.  

Y/n raised an eyebrow, tilting her chin slightly. "Just alright?"  

Fred grinned, stepping closer, offering her his arm. "Don’t get a big head about it."  

She huffed, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes, something challenging, something thrilling.  

As she looped her arm through his, Fred couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, this arrangement wasn’t as terrible as he had thought.

—-

Fred and y/n stepped through the entrance to the Great Hall, and for the first time that night, neither of them had anything to say.  

The entire space had been transformed.  

The usual long house tables were gone, replaced by elegant round ones draped in shimmering fabric, flickering candlelight bouncing off crystal goblets and golden plates. The ceiling was enchanted to reflect a breathtaking winter sky, soft flakes of snow drifting lazily down before vanishing just above their heads. Ice sculptures lined the edges of the hall, carved into delicate figures that seemed to move when you weren’t looking. The chandeliers overhead twinkled like a thousand tiny stars.  

It was… stunning.  

Fred let out a low whistle, eyes sweeping over the scene. "Blimey," he muttered. "They really went all out, huh?"  

Y/n didn’t answer right away.  

She was still taking it all in, her gaze moving from the enchanted icicles hanging from the balconies to the grand staircase leading to the raised dance floor. She had never seen the castle look like this before, so ethereal, so dreamlike.  

It almost felt unreal, like stepping into some sort of fairytale.  

Fred glanced at her, catching the way her eyes shone under the candlelight, the soft parting of her lips as she stared in quiet wonder.  

Something shifted in his chest.  

"You alright there, y/l/n?" His voice was teasing, but noticeably softer than usual.  

Y/n blinked, snapping out of whatever spell the Great Hall had cast over her. "Yeah," she said, glancing up at him. "It’s just… I dunno. I wasn’t expecting it to be so—"  

"Romantic?" Fred finished, raising an eyebrow, his smirk playful but his voice lighter.  

Y/n scoffed, nudging him with her elbow. "I was gonna say impressive, but sure, Weasley. Whatever helps you sleep at night."  

Fred chuckled, but he didn’t tease her back. Instead, he let his gaze linger for just a second longer than necessary.  

The music swelled in the background, students filing in around them, laughter and chatter filling the air. The entire evening stretched before them, full of possibilities neither of them had really considered until now.  

Fred shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on her arm before tilting his head down toward her. "Guess we better get on with it, then," he murmured.  

Y/n met his gaze, something flickering between them that neither of them wanted to name just yet.  

With a quiet breath, she nodded.  

Y/n stood beside Fred, her hands clasped in front of her as she watched the champions and their dates take to the center of the dance floor. The music started soft and elegant, a slow waltz drifting through the air, filling the Great Hall with something delicate, almost fragile. The enchanted ceiling reflected the winter sky, stars glittering overhead like they had been placed there just for this moment. Snowflakes spiraled lazily down before vanishing into shimmering wisps of light.  

It was beautiful.  

She had never seen Hogwarts like this before. Had never felt this kind of stillness, this quiet anticipation that wrapped around her like a whisper. The usual laughter and chaos of the Great Hall had been replaced by something softer, something weighty in its beauty.  

She stole a glance at Fred.  

He was watching the dancers, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth like he was amused by the whole thing, but there was something else there, too. A quietness she wasn’t used to seeing in him.  

And that was when it hit her

Something felt different tonight.  

They had been friends for years, partners in crime, rivals in pranks, always pushing and pulling, always toeing the line between bickering and camaraderie. But this, standing here beside him in a ballroom full of flickering candlelight, the warmth of his arm just inches from hers, the way he had looked at her when she had walked down those dormitory steps,   

It didn’t feel the same.  

It wasn’t uncomfortable, not exactly. But it was new. Like she had stepped into something she hadn’t expected, something unfamiliar but thrilling all the same.  

The music swelled, couples twirling across the dance floor in graceful, sweeping movements, and suddenly, she was hyper-aware of Fred beside her. Of the way his fingers twitched slightly at his sides, like he was debating something.  

She swallowed.  

"Getting bored already?" she asked, keeping her voice light, teasing, as if nothing in the world had changed.  

Fred turned his head, his gaze flickering to hers. He smirked, but not in his usual way, not in the way that made her roll her eyes or shove his shoulder. This was something softer, something amused and knowing all at once.  

"Nah," he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "Just waiting to see if you trip over your own feet when we dance."  

Y/n scoffed, nudging him with her elbow. "Bold of you to assume I’ll dance with you at all."  

Fred chuckled, looking back at the floor. "We’ll see about that, y/l/n."  

And something about the way he said it sent warmth curling through her chest.  

She exhaled slowly, turning her attention back to the dancers, pretending she wasn’t thinking about the way his voice had dipped just slightly, or the way her stomach had flipped at the sound of it.  

Y/n barely had time to protest before Fred was tugging her toward the dance floor, his grip firm but light as he grinned down at her, mischief dancing in his eyes.  

"Come on, y/l/n," he teased, his voice low enough that it sent a strange, warm shiver down her spine. "Let’s show them how it’s done."  

She rolled her eyes but let him lead her anyway, her fingers curling against the fabric of his robes as they moved into the sea of swirling couples. The candlelight flickered overhead, casting soft golden glows against the ice sculptures, the music swelling around them in a gentle rhythm.  

Fred slid a hand to her waist, his touch lighter than expected, and lifted their joined hands. "Try not to step on my toes, yeah?"  

Y/n huffed, settling her free hand on his shoulder. "I’d worry more about your own coordination, Weasley. We both know you’re all limbs and recklessness."  

Fred chuckled, the sound low and warm, and for a second, she forgot they were in the middle of a crowded ballroom, surrounded by students, teachers, and swirling magic.  

"You know," he mused as they moved to the beat, "I don’t think we ever settled our bet."  

Y/n raised a brow, amused. "Oh? And what exactly needs settling? I’d say it was a draw at best."  

Fred scoffed, spinning her suddenly, pulling her effortlessly back into his arms before she even had time to process it. "A draw?" he echoed, shaking his head. "No, no, no. I clearly won. You were the one who asked me, remember?"  

Y/n narrowed her eyes, her fingers tightening slightly against his shoulder. "That is not how I remember it."  

Fred grinned. "Sounds like selective memory to me, love."  

She huffed. "Fine. Even if I asked you first, which I didn’t, you were already on your way to ask me."  

"Exactly!" Fred said triumphantly. "Which means I still would’ve won in the end."  

Y/n rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it.  

Because the truth was, she wasn’t even thinking about the bet anymore.  

She wasn’t thinking about the competition or the weeks of sabotage.  

She was thinking about the way Fred’s hand rested so easily at her waist, how effortless it felt to fall into step with him, how his grin softened when he looked at her now—like maybe this wasn’t just about winning anymore.  

And that realization sent her stomach flipping in ways she wasn’t prepared for.  

She exhaled slowly, focusing on keeping her voice steady. "You’re impossible, you know that?"  

Fred smirked, tugging her just a little closer as they turned with the music. "And yet, here you are, dancing with me anyway."  

Y/n swallowed, feeling that damn warmth creep into her chest again, curling beneath her ribs, making it increasingly difficult to remind herself that this was just Fred.  

Just Fred Weasley.  

Her best friend.  

Her rival.  

Her date.  

And, Merlin help her, something about that last word felt different now.

Dancing with Fred Weasley was dangerously easy.  

Y/n had expected him to be all awkward footwork and dramatic spins meant to throw her off balance, but instead, he led her through the steps effortlessly, his grip firm but light, his movements confident without being cocky.  

The warmth of his palm at her waist sent a slow heat curling in her stomach, something she tried desperately to ignore.  

Because it was just Fred.  

Fred, who she had spent the last several weeks sabotaging. Fred, who had annoyed her beyond reason since they were twelve. Fred, who, despite all of that, made her laugh more than anyone else ever had.  

And maybe that was the problem.  

Because something had been shifting between them, something she had been too stubborn to see before tonight.  

The music changed to something slower, couples swaying close, and Fred leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear.  

"Alright, y/l/n," he murmured, his tone far too smug. "Who do you reckon is shagging who by the end of the night?"  

Y/n snorted, instantly snapping out of whatever ridiculous romantic haze had been creeping up on her.  

"Subtle, Weasley," she said dryly, shooting a glance around the ballroom.  

Her eyes landed on Jack Carmichael and his date, who had definitely been sneaking off toward a shadowy alcove near the back of the hall. She nodded toward them.  

"That one’s a given," she said. "He’s been trying to get her out of here for the last half-hour."  

Fred followed her gaze, chuckling. "Bet you ten Sickles he barely makes it up the stairs before she tells him to piss off."  

Y/n grinned. "You’re on."  

Fred twirled her unexpectedly, pulling her back in a little closer than before, and she hated the way her breath caught.  

Get it together, she scolded herself.  

Fred’s eyes flicked toward the table where a few sixth-years were gathered, drinking out of goblets that definitely weren’t filled with pumpkin juice.  

"Alright, new bet," he said. "Who snuck in the booze?"  

Y/n scanned the room, eyes narrowing. "I’d say Nathaniel Burke, but he’s an idiot and would’ve gotten caught already."  

Fred smirked. "True. So?"  

She exhaled through her nose, thinking, then grinned. "My money’s on Lillian Moore. She looks too innocent. It’s always the innocent ones."  

Fred laughed, his grip at her waist tightening briefly. "You know, y/l/n, you might be onto something."  

Y/n opened her mouth to throw another sarcastic remark his way, but something in her chest twisted unexpectedly when he smiled at her.  

Something warm, something alarming, something that had been creeping in for weeks without her permission.  

Because suddenly she was remembering every little moment leading up to this

The way he had looked at her when she first stepped into the common room tonight. The way he had teased her but never once insulted her. The way he had waited for her reaction before taking her hand, before leading her into this dance.  

And, Merlin help her, she realized all at once that this hadn’t just started tonight.  

It had been building for weeks.  

Every time he had grinned at her, every time they had gone back and forth with playful insults, every time their arguments had felt more like flirting than fighting

She had been falling for Fred Weasley.  

And she hadn’t even noticed until now.  

The thought was so overwhelming that she nearly stepped on his foot.  

Fred raised an eyebrow. "That hesitation, was that you losing the bet already?"  

Y/n blinked, snapping herself out of it. "Absolutely not."  

Fred chuckled, shaking his head, completely unaware of the internal crisis she was currently having.  

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on the banter, on the laughter, on anything except the fact that she was looking at him differently now.  

Because the second she acknowledged it?  

She knew there would be no going back.

—-

Fred leaned back against the wall, his butterbeer warm in his hands, the golden glow of the Great Hall flickering over y/n’s face as she took a sip of her own.  

She was grinning, her lips still curled in amusement from whatever ridiculous bet they had just made, her eyes bright despite the dim lighting. She was leaning slightly toward him, like it was natural, like it had always been that way.  

And maybe it had.  

Fred took a slow sip of his drink, pretending he wasn’t completely distracted by her.  

By the way she looked tonight. By the way she always looked, if he was being honest.  

And suddenly, it hit him.  

This wasn’t new.  

This feeling, this warmth curling in his chest, the way he kept catching himself looking at her longer than necessary, this hadn’t come out of nowhere. It had been building, sneaking up on him so slowly he hadn’t even noticed it.  

It was there in the little moments, moments he could suddenly recall with sharp, stupid clarity.  

Like the time she had shoved a stolen Chocolate Frog into his pocket during first year, grinning as she whispered, “Take the fall for me, Weasley.”  

Or the time she had patched him up in second year when one of his own pranks had backfired, muttering the whole time about “how much of an idiot he was”, but her hands had been so gentle as she wiped the blood off his chin.  

Or the way she always seemed to understand him, even when he didn’t say anything.  

The way she could read his moods better than anyone else could, the way she knew when he needed a joke and when he needed quiet.  

The way she never treated him like a joke, even when he made himself one.  

Fred swallowed, staring at his butterbeer like it held all the answers.  

He hadn’t meant to feel like this.  

Hadn’t meant to notice how pretty she looked when she was focused on something, or how her nose scrunched when she was thinking, or how her eyes lit up when she was about to start an argument with him.  

But here he was.  

And for the first time, he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.  

"Oi, Weasley," y/n nudged him with her elbow, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.  

Fred blinked, forcing himself to smirk. "Y’know, y/l/n, if you wanted to get close to me, you could’ve just asked."  

She scoffed. "Please, I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t passed out. You looked a little dazed there."  

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. "Just thinking."  

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous habit for you."  

Fred snorted, taking another sip of his drink.  

Yeah.  

Dangerous indeed.

The Great Hall had gotten too much.  

Too crowded, too warm, too many couples tucked into corners, whispering to each other like the entire world had disappeared around them. Everywhere Fred turned, there was some overly romantic display, some sickeningly sweet gesture, and Merlin help him, he needed fresh air.  

So, naturally, he grabbed y/n’s hand.  

"Come on," he muttered, already tugging her toward the doors before she could argue.  

Y/n let him, though he could feel her curious gaze on him as they slipped out of the hall, the sound of music and chatter fading behind them.  

"Where exactly are we going, Weasley?" she asked as they stepped into the cool night air.  

Fred inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill his lungs. "Anywhere but in there. Too many people snogging like their lives depend on it."  

Y/n snorted. "Jealous?"  

Fred rolled his eyes, nudging her with his shoulder. "Oh, absolutely. Watching Kevin Whitby nearly eat his date’s face off was thrilling."  

Y/n gagged. "Disgusting. Alright, lead the way."  

And so they walked.  

The path leading away from the castle was quiet, save for the faint sounds of the ball still drifting from the open windows. The stars above were bright, the sky clear, and the lake stretched before them like a dark, endless mirror. The wind was cold but pleasant, ruffling the edges of their dress robes as they followed the stone path toward the water.  

It was… nice.  

Comfortable.  

Like they had done this a hundred times before.  

And maybe they had, maybe not in fancy dress robes, maybe not with the weight of something unspoken pressing against Fred’s ribs, but it was still them.  

Still easy.  

They fell into natural conversation, talking about nothing and everything—making fun of McLaggen’s tragic dance moves, placing one final bet on whether or not Olivia Davies had smuggled an entire bottle of firewhiskey under her cloak.  

But beneath it all, Fred could feel it.  

That… thing.  

That stupid, frustrating thing that had settled in his chest hours ago and refused to leave.  

Because every time y/n laughed, something in him twisted.  

Because every time she nudged him, teasing and light, it sent something warm rushing through him.  

Because every time she looked at him, really looked at him, he felt like she was about to figure him out.  

And that, that scared him more than anything else.  

He had spent so long not noticing. Had spent years thinking of her as just y/n—his best friend, his competition, the one person who could match him beat for beat.  

But now?  

Now, all he could think about was the way she looked under the stars, how the silver light caught in her hair, how her lips curled when she was about to say something smug.  

Now, he was noticing everything.  

And he wasn’t sure he liked it.  

Y/n nudged him again. "You’re quiet."  

Fred blinked, forcing himself to smirk. "Unusual, isn’t it?"  

"Extremely." She shot him a suspicious glance. "You sure you’re not getting emotional over all the romance in the air?"  

Fred snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Oh yeah, I’m the emotional one. Not the girl who gasped at the ballroom decorations like she walked into a bloody fairytale."  

Y/n gasped again, but this time out of offense. "I did not—"  

"Did too."  

"Fred—"  

"You even twirled, y/l/n," he teased, his smirk widening. "Don’t try to deny it, I saw it with my own two eyes."  

She groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. "I hate you."  

Fred grinned. "No, you don’t."  

Y/n turned to shove him, but he caught her wrist before she could, laughing as he held it up between them.  

And suddenly

The laughter faded.  

Not completely, not abruptly, but just enough.  

Because suddenly Fred was staring at her, and she was staring back, and something about the night felt too still.  

Her wrist was small in his grip, her pulse just barely thrumming beneath his fingertips.  

For a second, just a second, he almost didn’t let go.  

But then

He did.  

And whatever had settled between them slipped away before it could take root.  

Fred cleared his throat, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Anyway. Should probably head back before George accuses me of running off and eloping."  

Y/n snorted. "I dunno, Weasley. I think we’d make a pretty tragic love story."  

Fred smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.  

"Yeah," he muttered. "Tragic."  

And as they made their way back up toward the castle, Fred ignored the fact that something about that word didn’t sit right with him at all.

They were just steps away from the castle doors when Fred couldn’t hold it in any longer.  

It had been building all night, all week, really, if he was honest. Maybe even longer than that.  

Every glance, every laugh, every stupid little moment that had felt so normal before had suddenly taken on a different meaning.  

And now, standing beneath the stars, the castle glowing softly in the distance, it hit him all at once.  

He loved her.  

Maybe he always had.  

Maybe he had just been too thick to realize it until now.  

But now, now it was all he could think about.  

Y/n was walking just ahead of him, her dress shifting with the breeze, hair slightly undone from the night, still looking as effortlessly beautiful as she had when she first stepped down the dormitory stairs.  

And Fred, heart pounding in his chest, suddenly realized he couldn’t go inside without saying it.  

Without doing something about it.  

"Y/n."  

His voice was quieter than usual, but she stopped immediately, turning to face him with a curious tilt of her head.  

She hadn’t expected him to stop. Hadn’t expected his voice to sound so… careful.  

Fred took a breath. Now or never.  

"I—" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, trying to find the words when really, there was only one way to say it.  

"I like you."  

Silence.  

Fred barely noticed the cold anymore, heat rushing through his chest as he watched her eyes widen, her lips parting slightly in surprise.  

Maybe he should’ve eased into it. Maybe he should’ve said it differently. But hell, there was no stopping now.  

He took a step closer.  

"I like you, y/n," he repeated, voice steadier this time. "And I—I don’t mean in the way we joke about, or the way everyone always thinks we do. I mean, really. And I think I have for a while, I just…" He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "I was too much of an idiot to see it."  

Her lips parted like she was going to say something, but nothing came out.  

She just… stared at him.  

Fred’s heart dropped.  

Oh, hell.  

Maybe he’d messed this up. Maybe he’d just ruined everything

But then

Y/n moved forward so fast he barely had time to react.  

Her hands curled into the front of his dress robes, pulling him down as she kissed him.  

Fred’s mind blanked.  

For a second, he didn’t breathe.  

Didn’t think.  

Didn’t do anything except feel.  

Because Merlin’s bloody beard, he hadn’t expected that.  

But then, instinct took over, and his hands were at her waist, tugging her closer, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it.  

It was slow, softer than he ever thought a first kiss between them would be. No teasing, no sarcasm, just… her.  

Just them.  

The night was silent around them, the only sound between them the faint hitch of breath, the quiet shift of fabric, the snowflakes drifting through the air like the universe had planned this all along.  

When they finally pulled away, Fred’s forehead rested against hers, his grin so wide it was almost ridiculous.  

"So, uh…" He exhaled, still catching his breath, his hands still resting firmly on her waist. "Can I take that as a yes?"  

Y/n laughed, arms still wrapped around his neck, eyes shining with something he had never seen before but desperately wanted to see again.  

"Fred Weasley," she murmured, shaking her head fondly. "You are such a bloody idiot."  

Fred smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Yeah, but I’m your idiot now, yeah?"  

Y/n grinned, tugging him down into another kiss.  

And Fred?  

Fred was completely okay with that.

A/n: so I wasn't planning on writing a part 2 for this but so many people asked so I hope you enjoy this!!!

[i-dared-myself]

Sick Day

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: can u do a ninth member one where she’s feeling sick but is forced to go on stage but is like coughing and not giving it her all or something like that? I don’t know just I love your writing and I would really love if u could do that :)

You throw your legs over the side of your bed and pad over to the door. You push it open and sniffle as you go down the stairs, throat aching.

“You look pale,” Changbin remarks once you throw yourself onto the couch with a groan.

“Don’t feel good,” you mumble back. You toss an arm over your face. “I feel so gross.”

“Who’s ready for this?” Jisung screams as he rushes into the living room. You cover your face and bite back a whine at the headache he causes. “Big performance today!” 

Changbin hushes him, motioning to you. “She’s sick.”

Jisung freezes, eyes widening. “That’s not good. We’re supposed to have that-“

You cut him off. “I know! You think I wanted to be sick?”

He throws his hands up and slowly backs out of the room. “I’ll go find some medicine.”

Changbin presses his hand to your forehead. “You feel warm.”

Felix walks by, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Does she feel warm to you?” Changbin asks.

“Is this a trick?” Felix suspiciously questions. He narrows his eyes at you. “You’re… smoking hot. Sexy.”

“No!” Changbin snaps. “Does she have a fever?”

Felix’s mouth forms an ‘O’ as he approaches. He puts the back of his hand to your forehead before nodding. “Yeah, kinda.”

Hyunjin scoffs, leaning on the doorframe. “You just have cold hands. Let me see.” Hyunjin checks, before recoiling. “That’s a fever! Someone put a mask on her!”

“Has anyone used an actual thermometer yet?” Seungmin demands, hovering in the doorway. “Idiots.”

“Do we even have one?” Changbin asks. “Is it in the cabinet or…?”

Seungmin holds it up. “I heard you all shouting and grabbed it.”

Hyunjin winces. “Is it… an ass one?”

You duck behind Changbin. “It better not be!”

“It’s not! It goes under the tongue!” Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Come here.”

You reluctantly walk over, opening your mouth. He sticks it under your tongue, eyebrows pulling together when it beeps and flashes red.

“Fever,” Seungmin confirms.

Jisung sprints inside, juggling bottles of medicine. “What are your symptoms? We need to find the one that matches exactly with it.”

Felix peers at the bottles before taking one and inspecting the label. “This one is just vodka.”

Minho shuffles in, rubbing at his eyes. He yawns before noticing everyone. “Whats going on?”

“She’s sick,” Changbin announces. “Don’t tell Chan.”

You perk up. “Why not?”

“He’ll worry the whole time,” Hyunjin chimes in. “If you take some medicine you’ll be fine. Okay, maybe not fine, but he’ll worry himself sick if he hears.”

“And we don’t need two sick members,” you agree. “Okay, no one tell him.”

Minho clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Nonsense,” Jisung says as he pours some medicine for you. “Now take these drugs.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Felix pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s so- Just don’t do that.”

Jeongin wanders into the living room. “Who’s making breakfast? We leave in an hour and I’m hungry. I could eat a horse. Or Hyunjin would work. Pretty much the same thing.”

Hyunjin smacks the back of Jeongin’s head. “Careful. I haven’t had my coffee yet and am not in a good mood.”

Chan tugs at the strings of his hoodie. “What’s going on?”

You force a smile and push away the pounding headache. “Nothing.” You turn around and take the cup of medicine from Jisung, downing it like a shot. 

Chan scratches the back of his neck. “Okay then… Is everyone ready for today?”

You nod confidently, although it’s definitely not how you feel inside. “Yes. Very.”

Chan smiles softly. “Good. You’ll be great.”

Your stomach tumbles at his words. You really don’t need another reminder. This is your first time taking such a main spot. You’ll be in the front for the majority, being main vocalist.

And you’re sick.

Chan rolls up his sleeves. “I guess I’ll cook breakfast, then. You all be ready to go when it’s time.”

Felix grins, freckles scrunching up. “Sir yes sir.”

Chan points a finger at him. “You. You’ll be my kitchen helper for that.”

Felix sighs and his shoulders slump, but he obediently trails after Chan into the kitchen. “Sir yes sir.”

“Stay strong,” Jeongin whispers to you. He clenches a fist. “Fight the patriarchy!”

You bury your face in your hands. “Jeongin… No…”

Changbin grins, seemingly intent on making you suffer. “Down with the patriarchy!”

Seungmin pumps his fists, eyes glinting with mischief. “Up with the matriarchy!”

Jisung eagerly joins in. “Mommies rise up!”

Everyone stared at him.

Minho breaks the silence. “What?”

Jisung laughs nervously. “I was just… doing what everyone else was.”

“You really weren’t.” Hyunjin shakes his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You grip your microphone tightly. You’re fairly certain that the medicine has worn off by now. You keep flashing between too hot, and too cold. Your head is pounding and your throat burns.

You adjust your belt before stepping out onto stage. The rest of your group follows shortly behind, waving enthusiastically to the crowd.

You take your place at the front, listening to the introductions. When they come to an end and the music begins, you raise your microphone to your lips.

And your voice rasps.

You quickly push it aside, continuing with the song. Your voice thankfully clears, but your head is growing light.

Chan shoots you a worried look a you stumble over a step. You ignore him and push through the movements.

Felix and Hyunjin rush past you, using dramatic hand gestures. Hyunjin had designed that part of the dance and was very proud of it and you’re so tired and-

You twirl in the wrong direction and Jeongin barely manages to slide around you. He plays it off with an extra movement that’s honestly impressive.

You hold off a cough long enough for Jisung’s lines to come up. You dart behind Changbin to cough, grimacing when it tastes like mucus.

Seungmin’s upper lip curls and he offers you a sympathetic look.

The rest of the group parts so you can make your way to the front. You sashay as the choreography expects, only to crumple as soon as you reach the front.

Minho falls to his knees next to you and loops his arms under yours. He drags you off the stage as the others continue with what little remains. You distantly hear Seungmin take over for you, too busy blinking to really pay attention.

Minho props you up, stroking your face gently. “Come on. Deep breaths and I’ll get you some water.”

You take a sip from your bottle when it’s offered to you. “I don’t feel good. I wanna go home.”

Minho hums and presses the heel of his hand to your forehead. “I think you have a fever.”

Chan springs backstage, eyes wide with panic. “What happened? Are you okay? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

You cough into your elbow. “I’m fine. Just sick.” Your voice is nasally and you can’t possibly imagine how bad you just sounded on stage.

Chan’s expression shifts. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me? Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“Told you,” Minho whispers as he glides away.

“It was their idea!” Your voice is gesture to the others. “They made me! I’m just sick and you should take pity on me!”

Chan crosses his arms. “That’s no excuse. You need to tell me these things so stuff like this doesn’t happen again. Got it?”

You nod. “I got it. Totally understand.”

Chan sighs and holds out his arms. “Come here.”

You bound towards him and bury yourself in his arms. He squeezes you once before releasing you.

“Now let’s go home.” Chan takes your hand in his and guides you out the doors. “The public and press are being dealt with now. You have nothing to worry about.”

You can barely keep your eyes open by the time you reach the company van. You fall asleep on Changbin, and he carries you inside the dorms.

“Wake up,” Chan softly says. “You need medicine.”

“Drugs,” Seungmin pipes up to make you laugh. “She needs drugs.”

“Mm,” Jisung wiggles his eyebrows, “I love drugs.”

Felix spins around and marches off. “I’ll go get some juice boxes.”

Jisung cheers and runs after him. You sit up to take the medicine you’re given. It’s disgusting and you gag.

Hyunjin jumps away. “Don’t vomit on me!”

You shoot him a dirty look. “Thanks, Hyunjin.”

Jeongin pats the top of your head. “You’ll be okay. Just don’t think about how no one thinks they’re going to die because of a cold, then bam they’re dead.”

“Let’s not talk like that.” Chan swoops in to place a hand on the small of your back. “Go up to bed and get some rest. When you come down we’ll have your juice boxes and maybe even some takeout.”

You cough into the crook of your arm. “I don’t wanna sleep by myself.”

“Ew.” Hyunjin curls away from you. “Don’t infect the rest of us! You’re a walking biohazard!”

“Here.” Changbin hands you a Dwaekki. “Just throw it in the wash when you’re done covering it in disease.”

Minho clears his throat. “Or we could just burn it.”

“Did someone say bonfire?” Jisung pokes his head into the room, a crazed look in his eyes.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret

[romanhughesy]

GRAVITY - andrei svechnikov x fem!reader

summary: you meet in spring. andrei is confident, easy-going. deeply casual. summer’s long, but you’re around again when andrei comes back in the fall and ‘casual’ shifts into something fonder, something taking shape around the edges. a mid-season injury brings things to a breaking point, but the longest night only comes once a year.

wc: 3k

warnings: suggestive (like pg13), angsty?, emotionally unavailable!reader<3

a/n: im so sorry it’s late, but this is my fic for @wyattjohnston’s winter fic exchange, written for @sydnikov !! i LOVE your writing and was so inspired by your preferred tropes/figure skating background, so i hope you love it!! ive never wrote anything quite like this before, so feedback is 10000% encouraged bc this is also my first fic in awhile :’) title is from ‘gravity’ by my queen tinashe, that song and her other song ‘cross that line’ PERFECTLY describe the relationship i was trying to capture here.

-

somewhere along the way– far too late– it becomes apparent you and andrei misunderstood each other. maybe even from the very first moment.

on an unseasonably humid early spring night, in a dark gritty bar with shitty lighting and shittier beer, a spark ignited between the both of you. he approached you, half-drunk and put up to it by the rowdy teammates commandeering a booth with a great view of the bar. of you and your friends. he offered to buy a round of shots for everyone– if your friends would take them back to the booth and leave the two of you at the bar. your girls, who absolutely did not need anymore shots, practically ran across the bar with the tray; not before elbowing you and patting your shoulder, of course. maybe one hockey player could fly under the radar, but certainly not this one, and the table full that were now hosting your friends were the talk of the little bar. even some of the other girls nearby looked at you enviously; like you’d been chosen, or won some sort of prize. it was an unpleasant kind of feeling that you tried to shove aside in favor of easy, tipsy conversation. after talking around the elephant in the room for a minute, the liquid courage helped you decide to name it. you praised his performance in their game earlier that evening. months later, you can still remember how his smile took over his face, wide and prideful.

“thank you, pretty,” he slurred, shuffling a bit closer, “i can teach you how to skate good like me.”

you also remember your own prideful scoff, rolling your eyes on pure instinct. that unpleasant feeling sharpened. “i could carve you up, svech.”

his jaw dropped, the disbelief seeming more honest than his boastful smile, somehow. “you play? you are… small.”

“i’m a figure skater. i coach, too. maybe i should teach you to skate better.”

andrei’s wolfish smile came back in full force then, large hand draping over yours on the sticky bar. “perfect figure skater– pretty and small. i’m sure you skate well, but not like me.”

he raised his drink to signal the bartender, but you slid your hand from underneath the bar to rest on top of his and tapped the back of his palm lightly, stealing his attention with a head tilt.

“should we go and check out each other’s skills?”

one night set the stage for a loose kind of routine, spring nights slipping away in the back of seedy bars, in andrei’s bland luxury apartment; bodies coming to an understanding on rumpled grey sheets in his california king bed. your friends wouldn’t shut up about him, but you insisted there was nothing to tell. and there wasn’t. neither of your lives had room for anything more than what you already had. when he was gone, or just not around, your life passed by more or less the same as when he was there. you weren’t going through the motions to pretend there was anyone else, to him or to your friends, but you knew where you stood. and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. what you and andrei had was good, easy. you didn’t want a boyfriend anyway, so why would you complain about a steady hookup who wasn’t getting attached?

as the days got warmer, the nights got shorter, and andrei’s games became more meaningful. he slipped away— as much as you can really slip away when you aren’t being held at all. he more or less disappeared from your life once their second playoff series went south, and you refused to give chase.

-

summer was a blur. long days full of early morning practice, the smell of the ice invigorating your senses and bringing relief from the oppressive heat. it was a year too hot to be outdoors much, so you holed up, binging reality tv and redecorating your bedroom. your friends brought you out of your shell every now and then with a couple of weekend beach trips and many more coerced nights out. they’d switched from seedy sports bars to cocktail lounges, or dance clubs, and were good enough to not mention why, at least to your face. things felt simpler this way, dancing into the night with a rotating cast of strangers and cutting out early with the excuse of your sunrise rink time. you started landing a new trick, and even the heat couldn’t dull your mood about that.

seemingly in the blink of an eye, the dog days of summer had passed, and banners started cropping up around downtown boasting the shiny newcomers and fan favorites returning to town for training camp. you saw andrei’s face on the house-sized poster hanging on the outside of the arena and pretended to yourself that you’d never met him, because, really, what else were you supposed to do? go back to that same bar, with your same friends, and pretend you knew him at all?

-

well, you did do that– not of your own volition, to be sure– and he was there, because of course he was. you saw him the second you walked in, tall, broad and smiling, just like you remembered. you pointedly looked away, sharp eyes almost daring your friends to say something, but they didn’t have to.

you were fumbling through your purse to pay for your drink when he approached from behind, resting his hand on the bar. your bodies weren’t quite touching, but you were enveloped by his stature.

“you can put all of their drinks on my tab,” you could almost feel the vibrations of his deep voice through your chest. your friends raised their eyebrows, but said nothing, taking their drinks and deserting the bar. that deja vu, memory-on-the-tip-of-your-tongue feeling washed over you, heightened by his next words.

“how was your summer, pretty girl? mine was long, without seeing you.”

you sidestepped his hold to be able to look up at him, to take his features in for the first time in awhile. in person, that is. there was a boyishness, an almost clumsiness, about him like this that never came across in his media. you tried not to let it persuade you.

“i landed my axel for the first time.” you answered, not bothering to address his flattery.

“triple?” andrei asked, eyebrows raised.

you rolled your eyes. “i’m an amateur, andrei. not all professionals can land a triple.”

his eyes flashed, that challenging look that always dragged you in, “i’m a professional. i bet i could. i do lots of hard things.”

“i doubt you could even stand on figure skates, much less jump.”

he tilted his head, and you felt pulled back in time, “can i show you my skill?”

“andrei…” you tried to pull your gaze away from him, but he grabbed your hand, gentle as can be, and you locked eyes with him again.

“please, pretty girl. i missed you.”

looking back, you still aren’t sure what you thought he’d say, but it wasn��t that. the shock stirred up some of the unpleasant feelings of the past few months, the severed connection that was barely tangible to begin with. you lightly scoffed, “yeah, right.”

“i did. i’m glad to be back, to see you tonight. let me show you.”

what else could you say to that?

so you let andrei take you home, and tried to tell yourself you were just imagining the difference in his behavior, projecting softness, maybe even fondness, where there was only lust. tried to explain away his gentle hands on your cheeks, your hips, his quiet praise and adoration. you slept over, that night, and tried to turn a blind eye again in the morning. and again a few days later.

as fall crept in, the two of you start texting more often, meaningless chatter and jokes, and began foregoing the pretense of having to go out to the bars to “coincidentally” meet up. he’d ask to pick you up after leaving the stadium most nights he was in town, and more often than not you’d stay over. andrei didn’t seem to mind that you were often gone before he woke up; flying across the ice to try and leave your emotions behind, heart crawling a little further up into your throat every day. you knew it was unnatural, yet you couldn’t help but try to build your walls a little higher with every step you took forward towards something different with andrei. you just couldn’t help but feel like letting your guard down would be a fatal mistake.

his time on the road helped, in a lot of ways. it gave you a sense of normalcy, you went out with your friends and didn’t look over your shoulder. you could give andrei a bit of a cold shoulder over text and pretend he was the busy one, the one not responding. until he came back to town and kissed you breathless in his sports car, taking off your jacket with his big but deft hands and mumbling into your neck about missing you while he was gone.

it wasn’t that you didn’t like him— certainly not that— but it was hard to feel like you stood on solid ground when his life moved at such a fast pace. he never intentionally made you feel small, but his world, spanning millions of miles and millions more dollars, was dizzying, and so entirely divorced from whatever you two had that you still felt as though you didn’t know him, really, even though you held all of these small pieces of him close to your heart. you felt constantly at a loss, not sure how to best express yourself in any given moment, caught between honesty and protecting your feelings, unsure how to do both at once. the leaves turned, then fell, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were also waiting for the other shoe to drop.

andrei, apparently, had none of the same hangups. he was simple, straightforward and never shy to go after what he wanted. his interest was more than clear, but you could never bring yourself to ask just how far it went. he never asked you to go to dinner, or one of his games, and even though you guys weren’t just hooking up, in fact there were a couple of hangouts late fall without having sex at all, you couldn’t find any other name to call whatever you two were doing. so you stopped trying.

-

somewhere around the first frost, things changed. andrei had his first injury of the season, having to sit out a short road trip, and you found yourself out of your depth with the version of andrei that reminded you of unpleasant early-summer heat. you didn’t know how to comfort him, scared to cling or insert yourself unnecessarily into his personal life, so you thought you should just mirror his attitude. maybe that’s what brought things down.

one late november night, you started shrugging back on your clothes after leaving the bathroom until andrei’s voice, thick with sleep, gave you a momentary pause.

“where are you going?”

you looked up at him, and immediately regretted it. his high, strong cheekbones were softened in the dim light, eyes dark and confused, but you refused to believe the furrow of his brow held any traces of disappointment

“home. i have an extra-early skate tomorrow.”

“you know you can stay here,” andrei assured in a low voice, but you just shook your head and sat at the edge of the bed to put your socks back on.

“it’s fine, andrei. it’s not that late.”

he sat up fully, then, long arm reaching across the bed to try and touch you, but you were too far away.

“what’s going on?” andrei asked, not letting you answer before another question sprung from his lips. “why are you not comfortable with me?”

you froze, looking up slowly but deliberately avoiding his eyes.

“it’s nothing. i’d just rather be at my place tonight.”

“it is something,” he insisted, voice still quiet, but more firm than you’d ever heard him speak to you. “you don’t want to be honest with me. why?”

“i’m being honest with you,” you argued, even though you knew it wasn’t true. “why are you upset? it doesn’t matter.”

“i like spending time with you. i’m alone, i’m hurt, and you make things better.”

it somehow stung, the sweet words only serving to remind you what he could say instead, what you wished he’d say.

“we spend plenty of time together, svech. i can’t put my plans aside for you just because you couldn’t travel with the team.”

you didn’t have to read a different emotion into his furrowed brow any longer, it was set in a very clear frustration, now.

“don’t say that, don’t call me that,” he insisted, “what did i do? why are you angry?”

you stood, at that, pulling your sweater over your head hastily. “i’m not angry. you’re the one making this a big deal.”

“you are leaving and trying to hurt my feelings. i am just trying to figure out why.” he rose from the bed, trying to catch your wrist as you went to button your jeans, but you took a step back.

“we already fucked, andrei. you had plenty of my ‘quality time’ for tonight. i’m leaving, now.”

he stepped into your space, shaking his head and grabbing both of your wrists, not forceful, but firm.

“this is not about sex, pretty. you know it’s not. why are you saying this?”

“well, that’s all we have. we’re not dating, i’m not your girlfriend, so you should call someone else if you need comfort.”

it was his turn to take a step back, then. dropping your wrists, hurt clear as day across his face.

“that is not true. we cook together, work out together, watch movies together, talk on the phone while i am gone. is it all just about sex, to you?”

your insides twisted, hurt and anger shifting into a kind of guilt, a panic. you’d been so painstakingly, yet fruitlessly, trying to protect your own heart, trying to push yourself away. blind to the fact that the whole time, he was reaching out to you.

“i… didn’t want to ask for something you couldn’t give,” you hedged, eyes down and picking at your nail beds.

andrei shook his head again, but his expression softened, closing the gap between you.

“i have been trying to date you since i came back, beautiful. but you have been hiding from me, even when you’re this close. i’ve been waiting on you.”

you stared up at him, eyes wide, hands dwarfed in his grasp. you couldn’t even begin to find the right words to say.

“let me show you, gorgeous,” he continued, one hand coming up to rest on your cheek. “let me cherish you how you deserve.”

“andrei…” you breathe. he bends down, captures your lips in a kiss so tender it makes tears well up in your eyes.

“it’s okay, pretty. we’re okay.” he kept mumbling assurances to you in between soft kisses all over your face, across your jaw and down your neck. you couldn’t contain your sigh as his faint stubble brushed against your neck, hands finding a gentle perch on his broad back. andrei pulled back the slightest bit, soft smile and mischievous eyes making your heart flutter.

“can i show you, my darling? or do you need to go home?” he teased, hands absentmindedly trailing up and down your sides.

“please, drei,” you plead, hand stretching up to the back of his neck to pull him back down to you. andrei doesn’t move a muscle, his own strength so much greater than yours, but you couldn’t complain because you got to watch his soft smile grow, eyes alight like he just scored the greatest goal of his career. he lifted you with seemingly no effort at all, laying you back down on his grey sheets, hovering above you, bicep bulging next to your head. it was distracting, but you couldn’t look away from those gorgeous eyes, locked on yours.

“can i come to the rink with you in the morning? want to finally see how my pretty girl skates. probably puts me to shame.”

you were pulled from your daze at that, searching his face and finding nothing but openness, happiness, satisfaction. but you still can’t help but ask, “are you sure? it’s an open skate. people will see.”

“see you ‘carve me up’?” andrei joked, caressing your face. that spring night felt so far away, a version of you that could never conceive of where you would end up. “i don’t care. just want to see you.”

you couldn’t hide the shock on your face. the pit in your stomach hadn’t exactly subsided, the heaviness of wasted time and self-admonishment lingering, but you tried to push it aside, letting yourself reveal a gap in the armor you’d woven so tightly around your heart. you wouldn’t be able to just let yourself fall overnight, but you could do this. you could give him an opening, a glimmer of warm sunshine on a cold winter’s night.

“sure, but we’ll need to go to bed soon. it really is extra early,” you conceded, hand raising to brush some of his hair back from his forehead.

his sweet smile turned that wolfish, boastful grin you knew too well, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“soon? maybe not, pretty girl. i have been waiting for this. might take awhile. but don’t worry, i know great stretches for sore muscles we can try in the morning, too.”

and, well, what else could you say to that?

———

[xo2dee]

NOW LOADING. .

JJK MASTERLIST

OPIA/GOJO NSFW WEEK 2023 - DAY TWO: FACE-FUCKING

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x (Fem)Reader WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Oral sex (male receiving), deepthroating, face-fucking, dirty talk, slight degradation. WORD COUNT: 3,171 SUMMARY: He was the one to bring it up first, you just wanted to fulfill his wishes. Or: Gojo uses your throat.

A/N: id unhinge my jaw like a snake for this man

Your neck was slightly hurting from craning it so much, looking up at your lover from beneath your eyelashes with a coy smile and a lash of heat slipping across the expanse of your stomach. He looked no worse for wear, perhaps a little flustered if the red in cheeks spoke anything to you, yet from the fascinating way his pupils kept dilating and retracting back inwards you already just what was going on in that pretty little head of his. Head pressing back against the wall behind you the same time he licked his lips, you only waited patiently for his sign to go.

“You’re dead serious about this?”

“Yeah, but I remember you’re the one who said, ‘God, I wanna use your throat like I use your pussy’, soooo…”

Satoru’s throat cleared, lustrous eyes darting from your face and the random spot on the wall as he played back that particular time in his mind when balls deep inside of you and he had whined that out whenever you started to suck on his fingers. He was only torturing himself by beating around the bush, his arms coming up to brace himself against the wall just above your head, a frustrated huff leaving him as the strands of his hair bowed across his face, “Right, I did, but I didn’t think you were listening…” he shot an accusatory glance at you as you only cheekily shrugged, a sigh pushing out of his chest as the ever-growing presence of his arousal only seemed to grow in his sweatpants, “Okay, but you gotta tell me if it’s too much, y’know?”

You rolled your wrists to place your palms up atop your thighs, a placate gesture to soothe him before you eyed the dark stain forming on his sweats, “I’ll be okay, but if you want blue balls –”

“Alright, alright – sheesh,” Satoru nagged for a moment, sniffing like a snob before he rolled his wrists and one hand came down to toy with the elastic of his sweatpants, snapping it against his skin once before he reached inside and pulled his cock out. It bounced once, pretty pink on the tip and precum leaking that area as you could see he had already gotten excited at mere idea of the act. His hand returned to wall, his hips pushing forward enough to let his dick nearly kiss your lip as he spoke, “If I had known you’d wanted it this bad…”

“You call the shots.” Normally you didn’t necessarily like for people to take leads into what you were doing, but with how he was looking and acting towards you and how bad you wanted to watch that cocky expression to fall into bliss just from you alone you decided then you would listen to exactly what he wanted. You rose a brow again as you looked up through your lashes and gestured for him to continue.

Perhaps he was getting a little impatient.

“Spit on it.”

Oh, wow.

Your brows then curved upwards from his bold admission, but the pleasurable tingle coiling down into your abdomen and electrifying your clit were a different story on how the words made you feel. Nevertheless, from the way he kept his eyes on your form mere inches away from his hardened cock with that non-nonsense twist in his face, you obliged – gladly.

You sent Satoru one last grin as you readjusted yourself, angling your upper half forward as your hands came to rest on his hips while you pulled your face to hover just above his dick. The plush carpet was easy on your knees but did nothing to quell in the throbbing of your pussy and the dampness of you only growing to make of a mess of your lower regions. You already had saliva in your mouth from the earlier rough kissing that led to the moment, so swishing it around was easy enough until you got a considerable amount and let it come to sit at the breach of your mouth. You pushed yourself closer, his impossibly hot cock briefly ghosting in-between your tits as you let the slobber you conjured up slowly leak out of your lips to fall into his dry, awaiting, sweltering cock.

Once the first round of the spit came into contact with him, Satoru stirred above you. His hips slightly jerked and you heard a low exhale leave him as more of your drool began to coat him, all the while you grew increasingly aware of the searing imprint of his eyes watching you do the obscene action. You casted a glance up at him as you finished off with drooling all over his cock, your eyes meeting once more in a fiery fight for dominance as his hand came down to curl gently around the sides of your head.

Satoru’s chest was heavy with his breathing and you watch a small tilt of his lips angle upwards as he regarded you for the job, “Such a good girl… So ready to let me fuck your throat?”

Did he even have to ask? You were about to give him the best head of his goddamn life.

You sent him a patronizing look as you snorted, enjoying the way his expression twitched and he sighed while pressing the tip against your lips again, tracing them as he shook his head, “What am I gonna do with you?” You rolled your eyes and gaped when he slapped his tip atop on your bottom lip, “Aht, aht, aht, don’t be like that. Now stick your tongue out.”

Your insides curled at the command, fire licking up your spine, as you did as he asked and the reward of his cock slapping the tip of your tongue had your clit throbbing. A dab precum saturated itself on your tastebuds, more spreading as he slid his dick across the expanse of your tongue and chuckled to himself whenever you batted your eyelashes and shifted on your knees, the dampness in your panties causing more of a problem than you thought.

“You’re so desperate, it’s cute. Now why don’t you really make me happy?” Both of his hands returned to the wall, pushing his hips forward to emphasize his point for you to really get on with the show.

You decided then you were more than ready to watch him fall apart, one hand rising to smear the rest of your drool over the expanse of him. Your fingers tickled the underside of him briefly before you traced that one vein protruding outwards as you watched his cock finally stand to full attention and leaning your body back far enough so that the reddened tip of him was inches from your awaiting lips. You sent him one last look before curling a hand around the whole of him, and you started off by pressing a kiss to the tip of his dick.

The skin of it was hot against your closed lips, the presence of him all but completely invading all five of your senses as you grew hungry for more. You pulled away from the chaste kiss and parted your mouth open to let your warm tongue slide across the slit of him so slowly and wet, lapping around the spot in kitten licks that had him twitching underneath your hand. He stirred above you again, his arms folding into the wall and one hand reaching pack to grasp your head, slightly pressing harder into it. You took that as to remove yourself from tonguing away in jabs at the slit of him and twisting your wrist to angle his cock upwards, letting your tongue sluggishly slide up the underside of his cock as he began to throb in your hand and the vein you paid extra attention to bulge more outwards.

Another breath left Satoru, yet that time noisier and spurning you on to continue to hear more of him. The sound made you puff out a breath of hot, humid air against him, kissing back up the length of him until you were back at his tip and circling your tongue about in rotation as the taste of his precum dissolved onto your appendage and into your tastebuds. The taste of him let you hum, your eyes finally closing as you firmly wrapped your lips around the top half of him. That action got you more movement as he seemed to buckle somewhat from the entrance of your warm, wet mouth around his cockhead. A hum you hadn’t ever heard before vibrated out of his chest as his fingers tightened onto your head, but they made no move to pull you forward more onto his cock.

He was waiting until you gave the get-go.

“Keep going… Fuck,” he breathily let out, his tone betraying his body on just how he was feeling with part of his cock in your mouth. Your mind fogged for moment at his voice as you thought hard about your next effort. 

Your toes curled into what they could of the carpet below you, your face feeling hot and dizzy from lust as you began to stroke what you could of him in your mouth with the tip on your tongue. It was deliberate strokes to the underside of his tip, more precum oozing out of him the more you licked and sucked away. However, once you realized you were only getting harsher sounds of his breathing you picked up the pace, something that made you hollow your cheeks outwards and taking a sizeable inhale as you pushed your head further down his cock to let more his hot skin take up the place of your mouth. Once you were far enough to where your nose was pressing against to where your hand was wrapped around the base of him, you hummed.

Satoru’s reaction was instantaneous; his hips rocked forward as a louder more groan-sounding grunt pushed past his lips and his cock slid down further into your throat. You gagged only once, and a flutter of your eyelashes upwards let you see his forehead had come to press against the wall yet he kept his eyes on watching you sucking his cock. However, meeting your eyes that still held that glittering, teasing tint in them pushed another low gravelly noise from him as he ended up closing them and biting his lip. You feasted eyes on the tendons of his neck straining against the skin as he swallowed and huffed about to keep control inside of him.

You wanted more.

The arousal coating your cunt was growing harder to ignore, yet you pushed it away in favor of watching him come undone as you began to focus more on sucking the soul out of him through his cock. It was a gradual bobbing as you started, your hand taking the space you didn’t have in your mouth to pump away at his cock while the part inside of your grew more layered in saliva as you started to slurp at the appendage trying to suck through his skin until you got to the very nerves of him. He was hot (literally and figuratively) and the smell of his natural scent along with still hints of his cologne combined with the taste of him was driving you mad, the pulsing inside of you begging for attention as you eagerly suckled away at his cock.

You pulled back off of him for a brief moment when he grunted and jerked his hips forward again, taking a long inhale as a string of saliva latched from your top lip to his tip when you released him from the hot, wet cavern that was your mouth. You watched his head lull around and heard the cervical vertebrae in his neck crack after doing so, a long shuddering breath leaving him as canted his hips forward in a plea for more of your mouth around him. You treated him in letting your tongue swipe back up the slit of him, taking off more precum as you went and moaning when you licked off the dab of it on the corner of your mouth when it dripped a little too much.

He had opened his eyes then and watched the entire action with flushed cheeks and knotted brows, while you got to watch his eyes slightly widen before you laid another kiss to the tip with another taunting glance back up to him. That time, you wanted to go further.

You leant your head back, pressing more into the wall as you opened your mouth and gave the get-go to all but fuck your throat.

“Fuck.”

You gave a moan at the expletive, though it was quickly smothered by his cock sliding its way back into your mouth, however that time pushing past the area you had been in and eagerly finding its way to slide down into your throat. You gagged the same time Satoru moaned, his hips pushing forward more to completely pin you against the wall so that he had leverage to move his hips and fuck your face as much as he wanted. Your own hands fell to grip onto his pants, nails digging through the fabric and pricking the skin of his thighs as he groaned and readjusted his stance for what he was getting ready to do.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this… Remind me to eat your pussy after this,” his hips canted down further, another inch into your throat as drool began to seep out of your mouth and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

There were no other words exchanged and he was setting a leisure pace to fuck your throat, before it wasn’t doing enough for him and moved faster – harder, until you were all but gagging on his cock with each well aimed thrust and drool slobbering out of your mouth which each whining gasp he made when he pushed himself in and out. You shifted your thighs as the obscene noises flooded the bedroom, having your heel pressed up the span of your soaking cunt through your underwear. The action caused a brief grind of relief but doubled down into more pleasure you wanted as you moaned around him again while he began to push into your face enough that you were able to feel his tip slam into the back of your throat with each push inwards. His cock jerked inside of your mouth and began throb in intervals from your increased speed, humid huffs leaving his mouth as you only continued onward whilst rocking your cunt against your heel.

Apparently Satoru had caught onto your actions, a groan falling out his chest when you opened your eyes to meet his flushed face as he watched you rock back and forth on your heel. “Getting yourself off because I’m fucking your face? God, that’s what I love about you; not afraid to be an overeager slut.”

The words made your clit throb, a whine garbled by the intensity of his cock in your throat as you only managed a gag and a squeal leaving your lips as his balls began to bounce back onto your chin. Your neck was aching as he bent your head more, curling your thumb into your fist to hope your gag reflex would kick in while a pool of tears began to blur your vision. He groaned above you again, his voice growing more whiney and smoldering you at your core the longer it went on and your throat gaped itself open more to allow room his cock.

Your gagging was in a rhythm by then, saliva bubbling itself at your lips with each push in and out of his cock and you could only open your eyes to a blurred vision of him with his eyebrows pinched together his mouth opened in a, ‘O’ before you got to watch it slowly fall apart and his groans became keening gasps. Satoru’s thrusts became sloppy; hips jutting into you as the back of your head pressed firmly into the wall behind you began to knock into it slightly, and you only had a few seconds before you realized that he was about to cum.

“I’m –” Satoru started off, breaking off with a low hum and shaking his head as though to clear his thoughts, “God, I’m gonna cum – Fuck, please swallow.”

You resisted the urge to laugh at how high-pitched the last part came out, mentally retorting with, ‘Well, where else is your cum gonna go?’ before he was pulling out of you with a, ‘pop!’ and his hands were cradling your head in a different way to maneuver how he wanted. You could only manage a raspy keen of ragged air, huffing through your mouth only an option for a second before he was pushing himself back inside at a near ninety-degree angle to fully situate his cock all the way into your throat. Your nose was pressed against the pubic hair of his groin, his musky scent sending your nerves into overdrive as you rocked forward onto your heel with a low hum and Satoru seized up with loud moan as his cock only throbbed once with the intent to cum.

And cum he did.

Your tongue wiggled underneath the expanse of his cock as it spurted out his cum in intervals, your eyes rolling back into your head at the taste as you could only wait for it to seep down into your throat so you could swallow it. His cum spattered against the roof of your mouth, your gums, onto the back of your molars as you let him continue to ride through his orgasm with patience. Satoru always seemed to cum a lot as well, finally pulling off of you after ropes of it with a sigh as you swallowed greedily as much as you could, wiping the rest from your mouth with the back of your hand while he tucked his cock back into his pants and leant down next you.

A warm hand came to rub at your throat, the other using a thumb to wipe away any stray tears as his switch flipped, “You alright?’

Sagging against the wall, you cleared your throat with a coy smile, “Never better.” A little raspy but it was doable, something that made him laugh and pinch your cheek.

“My little trooper,” he snickered at your disgruntled expression, swatting his hand away as he suddenly moved off of you and in-between your legs. You eyed him warily as he laid down on his front, coaxing your thighs apart as his fingers curled into the waistband of your shorts and panties. You sighed and let yourself be pulled further down.

“You don’t have to –”

“It’s not a have to, it’s a want to, babe. Now,” he kissed the inside of your thigh and began to slide your clothes down off of your legs, “Think your throat can hold out while I eat your pussy?”

[dross-the-fish]

Love Never Dies- Thoughts and Reactions

This might end up being split into multiple parts but I am not finished talking about Love Never Dies. I did give it a rewatch to refresh myself and...oof. This play needs to be taken out back and shot because that is what it did to every single character in it. NO ONE looks good. Not even Christine. Let's start there. Let's talk about what this show does with Christine because we have completely reduced this character to nothing but her voice. What does Erik miss about Christine after ten years of pining? Her voice. He just wants her to sing for him one more time. The only thing he ever really mentions about Christine is her voice. Though I can't really fault him because if we're being serious about Christine's character...

What does she have outside of her voice? Nothing. Somehow LND Christine has even less personality than she did in the OG musical. She is a cardboard angel that other people pine over, try to control, or envy. She has almost no agency. I said before, I suspect that Andrew Lloyd Webber hates women and Christine does not come out of that unscathed. She spends pretty much all of the musical being bullied by Raoul, mothering Gustave, or being threatened by Erik when he and she aren't reminiscing about that one time they banged 10 years ago. Seriously what even the fuck was "Beneath a Moonless Sky?" For a song about how two characters couldn't resist each other neither of them seem particularly filled with desire. Christine is recoiling in horror and disbelief and Erik looks like a 15 year old who thinks sniffing his crush's hair is peak sensuality.

Mmmm....sexy. But whatever. Christine says at the end of the song she woke up to swear her love and was ready to dump Raoul but Erik had skedaddled so she ran back to Raoul. You read that right. Christine was going to pick Erik after they banged it out and he left and that is the only reason Christine is with Raoul. Seriously Andy? You're going to make her regret picking Raoul over Erik when she didn't even actually DO that? Erik made the choice for her?

*internal screaming* Erik, seriously, how are you going to be upset that she's moved on with Raoul if YOU left HER? Do you really think you have the right to coerce her to sing for you one more time when you were the one who broke it off? The hell is wrong with you? Of course when Christine resists he immediately goes to threatening her child.

When I say Erik is the WORST I mean it. He is reprehensible in this.

But this is about Christine. We'll get to Erik later. LND Erik deserves his own post.

There's honestly not much more to write about Christine. She spends a lot of time cowering from or trying to appease Raoul. She worries about her son and her death is honestly so unwarranted. When I say ALW's work has an undercurrent of meanspiritedness I mean shit like this. Christine hasn't really done anything wrong. I guess she cheated on Raoul 10 years ago? But well she was going to leave him and only stayed because her first option bailed on her? She didn't do anything to Meg. She's been living 10 years in an abusive marriage and her crazy ex who kidnapped her came back to threaten her kid and coerce her to sing his music one more time. Then she just...gets shot. She dies. It adds nothing to the story that she dies. It doesn't feel earned or justified in anyway. It just feels miserable for misery's sake. It's almost unceremonious the way they ax her off because it's not even intentional. Meg misfires the gun because Erik fucks up in trying to talk her down. Christine's death isn't even about Christine herself. It's about Meg and Erik. It's such a useless and stupid death to give this character. How old even is she? Supposedly she's around 18-20 in the original musical (we're ignoring the 2004 movie that puts her at 16) and this is 10 years later? She's barely 30 but she ends up a casualty to everyone else's vanity, jealousy, and selfishness. I feel like we're supposed to find it tragic but it doesn't hit. It's a meaningless and undignified end to a character that was given no agency over her own life or her death.

[sadnightforus]

[6:48 PM] “Can I sit with you?” 

 His voice startles you out of your concentration that was on your work earlier, but you look up to find the source of the voice and you find that it’s a guy, a handsome one indeed. 

 You’re at your comfort café (although it has been open for just 2 weeks), but it quickly becomes your spot to go to chill at, whether you’re doing assignments, which is something you’re doing right now, or wasting your time away. 

 You have your green tea frappe by your side, a laptop and a phone, focusing on your work until a person came along and shot you a question. 

“Uhm.. yeah sure. Take it easy.” You respond, ashamed by your obvious potential starstruck expression you must’ve made like you’ve seen a god in real time. 

 He pulls the seat, then sits down, dropping his bag onto his lap too as he seems to be in rather hurry mode to finish it. He pulls his iPad out, with a pen and it’s when you notice that he drinks an iced latte. 

“Sorry about that. It’s just, there are no other table and yours is the only one with an empty seat. I hope it’s not troubling you.” He profusely apologizes for disturbing your peace and you ought to scream that you’d let him do that any time as he wishes. 

“It’s no problem with me.” You smile, trying to show that you’re more than welcoming for his presence. 

“I think as a thank you, I should learn my savior's name, if you don’t mind me asking?” He questions, and you think to yourself, smooth. Real smooth. His attention has been pulled from his iPad to settle his eyes on you instead. 

“Y/N, what about you?” Your eyes have a twinkle of amusement, which he can’t help but compliment on it. 

“That’s a pretty name. You’re pretty.” He then clears his throat. “I’m Taehyun.” And he is so pretty, with his eyes, nose, lips and gentleness like that. 

 Pretty boy with a pretty name, that’s what you think. 

“Your name is as beautiful as you too.” You return the smile, although this time you take the initiative to flirt first. 

“You’re much cuter.” He comments. 

“Hmm not so sure about that pretty boy.” And then you ask him. “What major are you in?” 

 You both ended up chatting for a little while, discovering that he took environmental science while you took finances and that you both attended two different universities that happened to be located near each other. You both talk about your common interests; which are music and comment on how good the shop owner’s taste in songs is— the reason why you keep coming back.

 You look at the time, and realize that you both have been talking for almost an hour. 

“I hate to cut the conversation so short.. but I have the work due. If you want to ask anything, don’t hesitate to throw it myself.” And he nods, understanding it as he too, goes back to work on his own notes. 

 The table falls silent, a comfortable silence between two strangers that happened to encounter tonight due to Taehyun unable to grab a table at a famous café shop. He, too, is quiet and doesn’t ask questions. Occasionally, you can hear the pen making noise against the screen as an indication that he too, is also studying. 

 You don’t know how much time has passed, but you’re now done with your assignment. You finally look up to see that the shop has customers coming in and out, never making it quiet. You realize that it’s probably very late too and you want to go home and finally relax. 

 You shut your laptop down and sip on your drink, then put everything into your bag, rechecking to make sure you didn’t leave anything. Taehyun notices, knowing you’re about to leave and he hates the small talk you both had when he wanted to extend that. As you zip your bag, stand up and ready to leave, he stops you by calling out your name. 

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You quirk your eyebrow in confusion, an adorable kind of confusion from Taehyun’s view. 

“I hate to make this talk so short, so I was thinking if I can get your number.” 

 How is he so smooth? It’s unfair that someone who is as handsome as him also is that charismatic. 

 But you smile before you give your response, after looking at his piercing eyes that eventually turn soft overtime and you think that he must’ve been really shy. You hear his “You’re pretty.” thrown to you mindlessly but you pretend that you didn’t catch it. 

“Sure. But give me your number too.”

 You both end up exchanging each other’s phones to type the number before handing it back to one another. As you brace yourself and finally get his number, you lock your phone, then look up to see Taehyun smiles at you. 

“See you later.” You wave to him, heart is full of a feline-appearance who manages to charm you tonight with only his smile. 

“See you.” He waves back, his eyes never losing its sparkle as he watches you turn around and start heading out of the café shop, then disappears out of his sight. 

 You consider tonight a win as you get to drink your favorite order, complete your work and get a cute boy’s number. 

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2025

A/N: know by meyou... i believe in you. also, my second fic of taehyun to thai's song. a coincidence? i think not. also i wrote this in june last year lol

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

[gretagerwigsmuse]

Hola!

Imagine Smart Aleck and Bradley having a conversation on what they like (sexually) and Bradley being really cagey before answering 'women in the hot maid uniform'. He would immediately follow it up with a speech on how much he respects women and how he doesn't think that its only a woman's job to clean the house. Smart Aleck would just stare at him, before smirking a bit and asking "what would you do if you had a hot maid? 😏" Bradley would be REDDD before, during and after having given his answer.

okay we’re very in sync on this because when they’re in mexico this is actually part of their pillow talk one night! and ofc they’re both very into it (i’ve been planting the seeds!!). i love talking about this aspect of their relationship so i’m so excited you sent this in!

idk if you remember, but in an old email, she asks bradley how he takes care of himself on the boat (which is a valid question and one he kind of skirts at the time!). and so they get to talking about it one night and he’s walking her through what he does and thinks about and lo and behold it’s a very descriptive and very domestic fantasy of him coming home from work one day to his very pretty and proper partner in all her housewife glory 🤭 and in true them fashion, i’m trying to make it equal parts hot and funny. i love your idea of him getting super red and flustered when it’s first brought up, def gonna work that in!

i included a bit of what i have of that upcoming scene below - thanks again for this ask, it was so perfect for a monday 🥰

“..It always starts the same. It’s a gorgeous day out, I come home from work exhausted, and I can hear the music coming from the kitchen before I even get inside.” You hummed and Bradley continued on.

“You have the prettiest little dress on, cinched waist, it flows down to just above your knees-”

“- Can it be white?”

Bradley shot you a sidelong glance. “I always picture floral, but I guess white is -”

“- Ooo! With a little apron and pearls, too -”

“- Is this my fantasy or yours?” You looked contrite, but Bradley wasn’t completely convinced. “But yes, as it so happens, there are pearls and an apron. And sometimes that’s all there is,” he finished matter-of-factly.

The pearl necklace was his favorite part, actually.

“And what am I doing in this pretty little dress and pearls?”

Bradley slid his hand higher up your thigh. “We can’t forget the heels.”

“Heels?” You kissed his neck.

He hummed. “Tall ones. Your hair’s all done up just how I like. And god, the smile on your face when you see me walk in? Fucking gorgeous.”

While Bradley was talking, you took the hand inching up your thigh and sucked on his fingers before placing them back between your legs.

“Mmm keep going.”

It took a herculean effort on Bradley’s part to hold back a groan. He couldn’t lose it, not yet, not when he’d barely started.

“Then you prance over towards me, an old fashioned in hand, and say welcome home, lieutenant commander bradshaw…”

[mask-of-prime]

VG: Mystery of the Outlands - PART 1

Previous | Next (Next Month)

________________________________

Years Ago…

“You… You wouldn’t! We’re lions!”

An enraged roar reverberated throughout the land. The winds and ground acted with it, as if the heavens and its residents were helping it.

Terrified screeches filled the sky. Pretty soon, the miraculously-airborne lions plummeted to the ground, each with a loud thud and pained groan.

"Uhhh..." Nuka moaned groggily as he shakily got onto his feet. His whole body ached from the near-fatal fall. 

"Where are we...?" he asked, glancing side to side at the wasteland.

Zira sighed irritably as she shot up from the ground. Nuka was either dazed from the fall, or just being his typical, clueless self.

"Our new home." she sarcastically replied.

She glanced toward the horizon, her face clenching hard with rage.

Back to square one…

Later that day…

Night fell across the Outlands. The buzzing of termite wings was soon replaced with the sparse population of crickets, whose chirps were still enough to break the deafening silence of the barren wasteland.

Atop a prominent rock amidst the flat land was a lioness that sat sternly, looking out into the rather empty and drab escape. She may have been looking, but she wasn't seeing, as she was too deep in thought.

'That miserable brat...' she thought, 'All hyenas know is deception and lies. The hyena only got her way because she knew royalty. If she were alone, she and her kind wouldn't stand a chance...'

A small, adolescent cub timidly approached. She tried not to make a sound, as she debated even bringing up what was on her mind at all.

Mother told her to go to bed with her brothers, as she did every day once it was dusk. She wanted to obey her mother, but countless questions buzzed through her head following what had happened earlier that day.

What was a 'Lion Guard'? What was this 'Roar of the Elders'? How did it work? Were they really just going to experience first-hand what might've been the craziest, supernatural event ever, only to just get up and never speak a word of it again?

"I can hear your footsteps, Vitani."

The cub's heart nearly leapt from her chest. The jig was up.

"Oh..." she mumbled, coming out of hiding.

"You need to work on your stealth. We'll go over that starting tomorrow morning." Zira dryly said.

No going back, now. If Vitani had a question, she'd better ask it now before it gets ignored in favor of endless training. She ascended the rock, gulping.

"Mother...?"

"Do speak up, dear. A soldier doesn't mumble."

"Um..." Vitani quickly cleared her throat to talk louder, minding her mother's comment, "Mother, how do you know so much about the Lion Guard?"

Zira stared off for a moment, images of her budding friendship with her beloved Scar raced in her mind. He was without his shoulder mark, a fresh, bleeding wound over his eye. He looked like he had been struggling internally.

“Well, it’s like I’d said earlier.” Zira began, “Scar told me all about what the Roar could do, and what he’d done to lose it. Oh, had his pompous brother not ticked him off, he wouldn’t have wasted it on his fellow lions…”

The preteen tilted her head. She didn’t remember this part at all. Zira saw her cub’s confusion, and continued.

“Yes… it had been the final straw. His father swiped Scar over the face, and Mufasa gave him a cruel nickname to top things off. And what for? Scar had done nothing!” she huffed, “And that mother of his. She was no help, I could tell. She was my hunting teacher. She never gave me so much as one glance. Always had her eyes on that Sarabi. That goody-goody little nerd saw herself as a miniature version of the Queen! I –”

She glanced down at her daughter. Realizing she’d gotten off-track, she quickly regained her composure.

“You’re a very astute listener, Vitani. That will serve you well as you grow.” her mother grinned, “You get it from me, of course. If only the Queen hadn’t picked favorites, she would’ve seen the greatness in me as I see in you. I care about you, all of you, when no one else in this world will.”

Vitani smiled softly, despite still reeling from her mother’s sharp mood shifts. Compliments like that didn’t come often, she cherished what she could of it.

“Anyway,” Zira cleared her throat, “Scar would always turn to me for comfort, and trusted me with the secrets of the Roar. He would tell me about the way it had controlled the wind, the ground, the sky… and animals…”

Vitani gasped. That last part reminded her of her other question. 

“What did the Guard do that made Scar kill them?” the cub asked.

“They refused to help overthrow Scar’s tyrannical family.” Zira scowled, “I wish Scar had reserved it for his family, but he’d instead lost control, and used it on his unruly Guard. The little sycophants favored Mufasa over their own leader… It didn’t stop there, either. Scar’s newfound hyena friends he made had replaced his Guard – and me. Those slobs almost made Scar’s reign unenjoyable, what with their insufferable complaints and endless appetites.”

Vitani’s face fell as her mother continued to vent at her. Quality talks with her had never lasted long.

“They’d always steal his attention from me up until Simba came along.” Zira spat, “Had he not come back to steal the throne, those ravenous heathens wouldn’t have torn my beloved Scar to shreds!”

Zira teared up as her claws gripped the rock she had lain on. The edge now sported eight streaks that briefly sparked upon contact.

“If only I’d been there to protect him…” she turned to her daughter, “Just as you protected your brother back there.”

Vitani opened her mouth. She didn’t know what to say.

“Yes. I saw you stand up against that hyena. Excellent work. That’ll come in handy once you become an enforcer of Kovu’s, one day.”

“R-Really?” Vitani smiled again.

“I can see it now! You, with your very own Lion Guard protecting Kovu’s place as King. You’ll be far better enforcers than Scar’s hyenas, my pet. You won’t even need the Roar! Why, I see a great reign in our future atop Pride Rock…”

Vitani followed suit and gazed at the faraway Pridelands as her mother had. To be a strong leader, just like her mother. She didn’t think herself to be the type, but Mother saw it in her. She wondered what lions she would someday lead.

"Now, off to bed with you." Zira said softly, but still with command, “You need to be well-rested for what lies ahead…”

Vitani understood, and trotted to the main termite mound fortress where her brothers had already been fast asleep. 

Inside the den was a sight Vitani distinctly remembered, and one her older brother would to this day refuse to acknowledge ever happened. The brothers had embraced each other in their sleep, Nuka had a long arm draped around Kovu, and Kovu hugged said arm. Both snored in their own ways, Nuka with his obnoxious, nasally snorts, and Kovu, a soft buzz. 

For a moment, the preteen stole one last glance outside, her eyes reflecting the deep red sunset at Pride Rock, the peculiar lighting making her look not so different from her cunning, ruthless mother, whom she'd been shaping up to be more and more like for years to come...

________________________________

Present Day...

The fully-grown lioness stared off towards the Outlands. Her eyes were her usual electric blue color, as she'd faced away from the sun.

She looked deathly drowsy from a night of no rest due to her intense fixation on her cave paintings. Everything made her drowsy. Everything that had ever happened. Her mother had conditioned her into quite the restless and fidgety lioness, and it showed as she had looked twice her actual age.

Still, she had a territory to patrol. The one she'd inevitably end up guarding like Mother said she someday would, just not like how she'd imagined. 

A familiar sight had grabbed her attention mid-patrol – the termite mounds that she and her family once begrudgingly called home.

But before she knew it, her eyes wandered West, towards a prominent structure that towered over many locations of the Outlands – besides the volcano, of course – the cave that took on the shape of a lion's head. A cave that stood just beside a luscious watering hole, possibly the best one that could be found in the Outlands. One that had been protected for years... by hyenas.

Glancing back at the lion-shaped cave, she saw a leonine shape that stood in front of the mouth. Sporting a dark bluish tint, it had a large, red mane, a head stripe like her mother's, and a bulbous snout like her older brother's. 

"Who goes there?!" Vitani barked.

It walked back to the mouth, and faded away as if it weren't solid.

"Hey!" the Fiercest charged, the rest of the Guard far enough along the patrol route to even notice her leaving her post.

As she bounded, her ears rang from overwhelming glimpses of voices of the past she'd recently heard.

"Get up before I give you a real reason to cry!"

"Lions Over All!"

"What's wrong, my little Moonlight?"

Vitani stopped in her tracks from the sudden migraine that had taken place, but not before crashing into something: An animal that yelled for her to stop, just before impact.

In shock, the lioness quickly shifted to combat mode. She charged as fast as she could, and body slammed the animal with full force before climbing atop of it and pinning its forelegs down to not let it escape. Her snarl lessened as the animal's form came into picture.

"It's... You." was all the lioness could make out.

"I have a name, you know..." the long-haired hyena playfully scoffed.

Before Vitani could think, she was flipped on her back, with far less force than what she, herself, had used. 

"..and a few moves up my sleeve." the hyena giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember you... Prime Minister."

Vitani rolled, and the hyena responded mercifully by gently releasing the lion.

"It's Jasiri, or something, right?" Vitani groaned, "Never bothered to really get to know you."

"I can see that." Jasiri deadpanned.

"I GOT YOU, JASIRI!" a male voice yelled.

"Janja!” Jasiri hopped in front of him, “There's no need."

“B-But that’s –” “I know. She’s welcome here.”

“Alright.” he grumbled, “It… It’s time for my shift at the cell, anyway.”

“Good boy.”

“Cell?” Vitani’s brow arched.

“He’s one of my trusted enforcers. Head warden of the Kizimba Caverns.” “‘Trusted’...” Vitani balked.

"He'll get the hang of it, eventually." the matriarch rolled her eyes, "So... what brings you to the Outlands?"

Vitani rubbed the back of her neck, "Ah, thought I saw something. L-Like, something I recently saw in a dream. Had to chase it. But... I can't explain it, it's too ridiculous."

"You look like you haven't gotten a wink of sleep. Animals' minds tend to go wild without rest."

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Vitani trailed off, staring onward as her eyesight no longer had a trace of blue. How much of that Zamani stuff did she take?

Realizing she had found herself near the entrance of Jasiri's Watering Hole, she looked to the left, then upward at the lion head monument towering over the region.

"Jasiri...?" she broke the silence, "Do you ever wonder what that thing is? My mother wanted to live nearby it so badly. She said she knew of it like the back of her paw, but, never went into how..."

"I’ve peeked at it a bit on my patrols. I haven’t really been wanting to go in, since, well, what happened when we were younger…” Jasiri said, “It seems like an abandoned arena of some sort, by the looks of it. Could’ve sworn I saw paintings in it."

"You're kidding?" Vitani's eyebrows flew upward.

Jasiri smiled. Beyond the paintings, she had a lot of things she wanted the former Outlands resident to see on the way.

"Why don't we find out?"

This had better not been a trap. Vitani had only ever known deceptive, fickle hyenas in life. But, only because of everything Mother had talked her ear off about. She jotted that down as one of the many questionable things Zira had believed, given what she’s recently seen of Jasiri and Janja. Not only had they claimed to be Prime Minister and head warden of the Outlands, respectively, but she’d remembered their collaboration to fight beside Kion. Perhaps Mother was wrong about all hyenas…

But, she had to know about these paintings, if there were any. What could they tell her? 

Semi-reluctant, the lioness followed the Prime Minister of the Outlands.

The two passed the Watering Hole. The older hyenas looked welcoming enough, but the younger ones found the lioness' presence odd. 

The girl had long hair and purple eyes, like Jasiri. The boy with only a few strands of hair and blue eyes. Both sported a wary look at her.

Vitani subconsciously returned the gesture with a puzzled look of her own. What was their problem…?

Vitani digressed. Meanwhile, she noticed something different about the Outlands. She felt something soft under her paws. Grass.

Throughout her trek across the Outlands was an overall pop of color and biodiversity. The Lioness could smell flowers she didn't know had grown in the area, and she observed more potable water sources outside of the notable one in Jasiri's territory.

"Here we are!" exclaimed Jasiri.

Vitani looked up, and saw the lion-shaped cave. It had been overgrown with moss, and even more flowers, funnily giving the cave a mane, somewhat, like it must've been meant to have. A dense, flourishing colony of bats flew from the cave, almost making the lion head look like it breathed fire.

Jasiri smiled warmly at the sheer surprise in Vitani's face.

"A lot has changed since you left the Outlands." the hyena began, "I heard about the monsoon at the Pridelands. The Outlands were in just enough reach to get some of it. We needed it for decades. The lands were so thirsty, that I had to help evacuate the animals from floods. But... It worked itself out, eventually."

Vitani was nearly moved to tears at the potential beauty that finally showed throughout the Outlands. Why couldn't she live in something like this all along? She had to wonder what became of the particular home she survived through every day. Had the Termite Mounds turned many colors, too?

Jasiri tilted her head towards the prominence, “Shall we?”

Vitani gave a quick nod, and soon enough, they walked towards the unexplored section of the Outlands.

________________________________

At the Northern Pridelands Outskirts…

“Would you believe the nerve of some of these animals around here? You’d think the herds would be over this whole separation thing after that old rhino keeled over.”

“Guess he set the blueprint.” Imara shrugged, “All he had to do was set an example for the next animal. There will always be a bigger, scarier successor.”

“Maybe,” Kasi huffed, But, wouldn’t they just leave the Pridelands instead of trying to change – OOF!”

Before she knew it, Kasi found herself briefly sandwiched between the heavy Imara, and another lioness who had stopped dead in her tracks long before her own group partner did.

“Tazama?! What’s going on?”

The Keenest of Sight stared off toward the Outlands, “Vitani’s not with you. I’d like to think –”

Kasi gasped as she looked where Tazama was looking, “Oh, no… She didn’t…”

“I’m afraid so…” the aqua-eyed lioness frowned slightly.

Pretty soon, Shabaha could be seen bounding from the distance, on her way to catch up with the group.

“Taz, why’d you stop?” the Bravest panted, “I know you’re quiet, but I didn’t think I was actually talking to nobody, this time – What’s everybody staring at…?”

“Tazama saw Vitani wander off to the Outlands.” Imara said.

“Was she snatched up, or something?”

“I didn’t see anything from here,” Tazama answered, “but within the Outlands, she could’ve been…”

“We’d better hurry,” Imara stepped forward, “c’mon…”

The Lion Guard headed Northeast, crossing the river that bordered the two territories. Pretty soon they ended up in an escape that was fogged and illuminated by geothermal gases and their periodic explosions.

“Hey! Who goes there?!” a voice barked, “No animal is allowed beyond this point!”

The fog cleared a bit, revealing a clan led by Janja, old enemies who once had their share of territorial disputes with the Outsider pride.

“Really? No animals allowed?” Cheezi tilted his head.

“Guess this means we gotta go, then.” Chungu muttered.

“Not us, furbrains!” the leader groaned.

“Hyenas!” Imara bellowed, “We know you have Vitani!”

“What? No we don’t!” Janja cried. Irritably, he whipped his head toward his fellow clan, “Alright, which one of you’s talked?”

“Enough talk!” Kasi snapped, “Get them!”

Shabaha loved that part of every fight. She couldn’t contain her eager cackle as she went to execute the order.

Janja remembered that laugh. Horrified, he glanced around at the lionesses that had surrounded him and his dimwitted squad of enforcers.

“Uh-oh…” he groaned, not liking their chances.

WHAM! Imara tackled Chungu.

SLASH! Kasi’s paw swiped Cheezi.

WHOOP! Tazama tripped Nne.

Janja’s hackles raised in defense as Shabaha slowly made her way towards him.

PUNCH! BEAT! POW!

Before the hyenas knew it, they were knocked to the ground. The hyenas that remained conscious moaned, saddened and confused as to what came over these lionesses.

What did they do wrong…?

Without a word, Imara took the lead towards the fog. The rest followed.

“Yeesh, we’re in the Elephant Graveyard.” Tazama shivered a bit.

Kasi looked around, “Is it me, or does this place look a little more organized than I remember?”

GROWL!

The Guard paused, hearts nearly leaping from their chests. They looked towards the location of the noise. It had come from one of the ribcages from a pile of elephant carcasses.

"Vitani..." Kasi slowly turned, "Is that you?"

“What are you guys doing, here?” said a gravelly voice.

Squinting to see past the large, petrified elephant ribs, Imara recognized the lion pacing back and forth in his enclosure. He had a scruffy, dark brown beard, a well-muscled body, furious auburn eyes, and a lack of a mane due to it once being burned off by Vitani’s Fire Roar.

“...Kiume?” she finally guessed aloud, taking a step closer to be sure.

“Watch your step.” Kiume smiled.

Imara glanced down and noticed the molten liquid that formed a moat around the maneless lion’s prison cell. Gasping, she placed a large arm in front of the rest of the Guard to keep them from inching any closer and getting badly hurt.

“Molten metal.” the lion clarified, “Keeps me from escaping with my life. A good backup when the hyenas aren’t awake to watch my every move…”

“The hyenas were…? –” Shabaha cringed hard, “Ooof…”

Imara's heart dropped, body going numb. There was no undoing the damage they'd inflicted.

She leaned against the cage bars for a moment and breathed deeply. They hurt animals who were doing good. The Prime Minister would banish them, and rightfully so.

“So that was the commotion outside? Thought the hyenas were up to no good, just because they’re hyenas? Looks like you guys got some prejudices to work out…” Kiume chuckled.

Kasi balked, “Oh, you would know –”

Imara waved a paw to quiet her down, “Look, Kiume. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… We were hoping you could help us find Vitani…”

“Why would I wanna help you, and how?” Kiume continued to pace.

“Well, we figured that since you’re the only one available, right now.”

“No thanks to us… Shabaha muttered in regret. 

“We just wanna know if you might know where she might’ve gone, and who with.” Imara continued.

“Well, I can’t exactly just give you pointers.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know this part of the Outlands like I do, I’d have to walk you through it. You’re not gonna understand if I just tell you.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Kasi glared.

“Girls, trust me, I know the Outlands. I spent a good while here with my boys. We studied up on paintings we saw around here.”

“Paintings?” the Strongest raised her brows.

“Sure. Some paintings you lionesses ought to take notes from. It’ll show you the way a lion’s pride is meant to be. I’m telling you, it’s always been males that have led prides.”

“Whatever.” Imara glanced sideways, “Well, haven’t you tried busting out now that the hyenas aren’t watching?”

“You’re stronger than me – Well, I mean, I’m not saying you’re any stronger than a man, of course.” he said with a passive-aggressive whine that grated the lioness’ ears, “I’m a little out-of-shape since, you guys, you know, imprisoned me here. The hyenas starve me and hardly give me any water to live.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it.” Imara cut him off.

“Not to mention, these bones?” he knocked them, “Solid. Gonna need something hard and heavy, like that plank the hyenas use to give me water, over there.”

They all looked. It was a heat-resistant slab of rock that must’ve been occasionally slid across the ground by the hyenas. They looked back towards the maneless lion.

“How about this, you get me out, and I'll help you straighten this whole hyena mess out. Have we got ourselves a deal, girls?” he grinned, offering a paw for Imara to shake.

Imara scowled at Kiume for a long time before looking at the rest of the Lion Guard, who were seen exchanging uncertain looks.

The Strongest looked back towards him, glancing rapidly as her mind raced.

She continued to hesitate.

________________________________

Pride Rock...

The Future Queen tried hard to think her own thoughts, but a force kept her from it. Something, or someone, with their own memories had taken over her very mind and movement.

The Lion Guard vanished from Pride Rock, and the possessed lioness did not know where they could be, she sniffed around for the scent of any Lion Guard member. The trail led her to the Lion Guard Lair. 

Empty. Of Course…

The Water Spirit within Kiara remembered this place, however. She would often lounge in the once abandoned underground lair, discussing her points of view with her fellow lionesses – her original followers. They didn’t seem to live in the Pridelands, despite earning their right to live here.

Suddenly, her focus was broken by the sound of a young mandrill rushing to another section of the Lair. She watched the mandrill from the other side of the wall, well-hidden behind a dense patch of vines.

“Okay, okay, okay…” Makini breathed, “If I were paint restoration materials, where would I be…?”

She brushed small vines out of the way to reveal a shelf holding orange powder.

“Oh, hello, Baadaye powder! Right where I left you. Good thing Rafiki told me to keep this stuff out of the wrong hands. I’m definitely the ‘wrong hands!’”

Something to be kept out of the wrong hands sounded exactly like something Zira’s spirit probably needed. Ever so silently, the golden lioness inched closer to inspect the powder.

“Oh, there’s the restoration stuff!” the mandrill beamed, still not noticing the lioness.

In her excitement, her hand accidentally brushed by the powder on the shelf. Like another lioness, recently, the powder shot into Zira’s eyes. She grunted, but pretty soon, her world took on an orange hue.

Opening her eyes, she could see her perspective change to the top of Pride Rock. She looked down on various animals who leaped and cheered. 

The Pridelands looked drenched. Grass was saturated, mud was everywhere, everyone looked heavily rained on, and yet, they looked elated.

“Our Queen! Our Queen! Our Queen!” the swarm of animals chanted.

Could this be…? Was this Zira’s destiny? 

Will she have won whatever war was coming?

To Be Continued...

________________________________

Author's Notes:

In order to make sense of that chronological mix-up that happened at the end of Lions of the Outlands, I decided to make the exchange Zira and Nuka have be out of confusion and frustration that they were sent back to the Termite Mounds, rather than Disney implying that this is how they discover the Termite Mounds.

Kizimba (Zulu for "cage") is what I call this makeshift wild animal equivalent of a prison. It's comprised of centuries-old, petrified elephant ribs, a pool of molten iron/nickel, and would usually by guarded day-and-night by Janja's hyenas, who volunteered to be Jasiri's enforcers, and had constructed the prison cell (I figured they'd mastered that since they did something like that in the Morning Report episode).

I know Vitani and Jasiri (and the Guard and hyena clan by extension) should be on good terms by the finale of TLG, but something made me feel they weren't quite: Vitani didn't recognize Jasiri and she saw her as a threat first thing in S3E19, which gave me the vibes that she never bothered to befriend her, so I felt that she and the Guard have some more teachings of Zira's to unlearn.

Kiume's passive-aggressive remarks are based a little on how Butterscotch Horseman always laments every minor inconvenience. I can see Kiume being a lot like Butterscotch in a lot of ways: The constant complaining, generalizing women and just about any vulnerable group, etc.

Where would the hypothetical musical number be? I was kinda thinking, since I was going for an evil We Are One type of scene in the first image, perhaps Zira and Vitani would have a sweet yet sinister mother-daughter duet of some kind.

Artist Notes:

This subconsciously came to me as I was drawing it, but I found the first panel slowly looking like something out of the We Are One scene. Fitting considering that this is about unifying, but for sinister and rather eugenicist reasons instead.

The whole idea for the shot in Image 2 may look like something out of a certain other movie. When I very first saw the mouth of the Outlands cave in TLG, I instantly thought of the serpent-shaped cave formation from Road to El Dorado, but instead of butterflies, we have bats, since they're shown to reside in the Outlands.

Did Kiume get some design tweaks to his face and colors along with that noticeably absent mane? Yes, because it has to do with a big lore drop I plan to write/post art of sometime, something I think would bulk up the story retroactively once I start writing the Ao3 Novelization of VG.

Panel 5 was super easy and cathartic to draw, all it took was scratchy, warped cloud patterns and a mostly monochromatic color scheme. It's very much based on the future hallucination sequence in the Disney Villains: Scar comic.

[motheroffeline]

Daddy's Home

MINORS DNI 1️⃣8️⃣➕‼️

Mean Husband Aaron x brat wife black female reader, dirty talk, daddy kink, spanking, drunk sex (reader agreed to it beforehand so consensual), jealous Aaron Pierre, bratty reader, fingering (f receiving), brief orgasm denial, creampie, and oral (f receiving).

Aaron greeted you warmly as he walked into the house with a big grin on his face. But, when did he not have that childlike smile? It was practically plastered on his face at all times. He walks over to you kicking off his shoes and hanging his coat up while staring at you with those calculating eyes of his. He then slides next to you on the sofa and kisses you on the forehead. "Been a long day... You look comfy." You yawn before you can catch yourself and you both laugh at the sudden outburst.

Just when you're starting to feel good Aaron tells you that he has to go to an after party tonight. Him go by himself? *Hell no!* You thought to yourself. All of those women would be throwing themselves at him and besides you haven't been out in a while. You proceed to put on your best puppy eyes and he agrees to let you come with him.

*"You gotta wear that red dress I like though."* He says confidently as though you'd even listen to him. "I don't like that dress so I'm gonna wear that silver one I bought last year." You can see a visible chill go down Aaron's spine at the mention of that dress. That dress that outlines every single curve you own, that has a split near your thigh showcasing your glowing chocolate skin and those chains in the back binding all of it together.

*"You playing with me, you wouldn't wear that shit."*

30 minutes later....

You walk out of the bathroom with the silver dress on and before you can get a word in Aaron says, "absolutely not" because he knows that he'll damage the dress trying to get to your body. Assessing his clear arousal, you spin around and press your ass out which is contoured by the tight fabric of your dress.

As a result of your dress choice, the ride to the after party is silent. You sit in the passenger seat like an innocent dove knowing that he's being driven wild by you.

When you get out of the car, he steps in front of you making sure that none of the other party goers can see your body. Looking at the crowd of unfamiliar faces you finally see someone you notice: DeMarcus. A long time friend of Aaron's that he's known since highschool. An intrusive thought then strikes you and you decide to go with it.

"Hey, I'm gonna go talk to DeMarcus real quick." You take a sip of your cognac while internally laughing at the begrudging look on Aaron's face.

*"The fuck you wanna talk to his ass for? You don't even know him like that. Besides he won't even be talking to you, he'll be too focused on that as-."*

Before Aaron gets a chance to finish his sentence you walk to DeMarcus with a sway in your hips. You begin jokingly flirting with DeMarcus and in the midst of it you can feel *his* gaze on you the whole time. After getting so nervous that you drink around 5 shots of cognac you decide to make your way back over to Aaron who looks beyond furious. The grey of his eyes now mirror that of a blazing moon.

"It's time to go home you drunk as fuck." Aaron practically spits the last part out and you flinch because you know what's going to happen next.

...

"First of all," he starts, his voice stern. "You're not allowed to flirt with other men. Ever. You're mine, and I don't share." You drunkenly lolled your head back and forth trying to replicate a nod. Deep inside, the power he held over you turned you on like nothing ever. Your pussy was so wet you were almost sliding out of the bed when he sat you on it.

"You pretty." Slips out of your mouth faster than you can catch it and a chilling grin cuts across his face.

"Flattery won't work tonight beautiful," he takes a long gulp of the liquor that he keeps on the nightstand. "You know how many niggas wanted to fuck you tonight? Hm?" You drunkenly comment again and he just stares at you.

"How much did you drink, do you even know my name?"

"Yeah, it's Aaron piss air." He laughs but the darkness still lingers in his eyes. "Baby, it's Aaron Pierre, Aaron Pierre, *Aaron Pierre*". Every time he says his name he reaches down to stroke you through your underwear. You find it in yourself to cuss him out and in record time you're over his lap.

His palm smacks down on your left ass cheek, making you yelp. He spanks you again, harder. "Shit talks," his hand comes down hard on your ass again. "Gets spanked". He laughs darkly at your whimpers and mewls.

You drunkenly struggle against his slaps. "You sick you ain't right." Comes out of your mind and his eyes turn even darker with intent.

*"Oh, I'm sick and right baby. And I'm about to give you a consequence for that sick little mouth of yours."*

He spreads your legs apart and kneels, his face inches from your pussy. "I'm about to eat this pussy until you can't say shit." He begins eating you out without warning, those plump lips blowing raspberries into your clit.

You moan unabashedly, "Shit, what's this for?" You say between whines.

"This is for disrespecting me and thinking I wouldn't do shit about it."

"Fuck, you don't gotta do all this..." You nearly scream as his lips suck on your clit.

"That's right. Stop fighting it." He increases the pressure with his mouth, his fingers sliding into you. "And stop fuckin' complaining about how I'm putting your ass in check." "This pussy wet as fuck."

"Daddy..." You whimper as you feel yourself on the cusp of an orgasm but he pulls away.

"Fuck this, I wanna feel you squeezing my dick. You so damn beautiful with that curly hair and that dress... Damn, that dress..."

He hooks his arms under your thighs, lifting your legs up. Aaron rubs himself against you teasingly before sliding inside, filling you up completely. *"Daddy's home,"* He whispers, his voice muffled against your neck.

He begins with a languid pace that soon turns into a punishing thrust that has you forming a white circle at the base of his dick. The grey in his eyes seems to look through and pick apart at your soul. Hazel, that hazel of his eyes seems to know every single desire you've got. And that green is the lecherous part of him that knows he owns your pussy. After a while, your pussy tightens around him.

"I'm gonna cum daddy, ah-!" You say as you feel your orgasm starting to come.

"That's it, baby, cum for daddy." He grunts as he fucks you through your orgasm and finally cums inside of you.

He kisses you on the forehead and says in a gentle voice: "Don't you ever do that shit again."

[jade4956]

From Then to Now

Tahlia Bliss stood in front of the camera, the Chelsea crest shining on her chest, her fingers lightly brushing the fabric of the kit she had once worn as a teenager. It felt surreal. The bright lights, the hum of the cameras, the quiet excitement in the air it was all part of her official return to Chelsea.

She adjusted her stance as the photographer gave her instructions, her body moving naturally despite the nerves swirling in her stomach. This wasn’t just another photo shoot. This was a full-circle moment.

“Alright, Tahlia, give us a smile,” the photographer called

She grinned, unable to stop herself. She had waited years for this.

After a few more shots some serious, some playful she was ushered over to a chair in front of the Chelsea media backdrop for her interview. The microphone was clipped to her shirt, and the interviewer smiled at her warmly.

“Tahlia, welcome back to Chelsea. How does it feel to return to the club where it all started?”

Tahlia let out a breath, her emotions catching up to her. “It’s honestly incredible. Chelsea has always been home to me. I joined the academy when I was 12, signed my first professional contract here at 17, and even when I left for UCLA, this club was always in my heart. To be back now, wearing this badge again, it just feels right.”

The interviewer nodded. “You took a different path, going to UCLA after your first professional contract. How do you think those years shaped you?”

Tahlia smiled, thinking back to her time in Los Angeles. “UCLA was a challenge in the best way possible. It pushed me as a player, as a person. I had to grow up fast, adapt to a different style of play, a different lifestyle. But I think that experience made me a more well-rounded player. And I got to play with some incredible teammates, including someone who’s now here at Chelsea.

The interviewer perked up. “Yes, Jessie Fleming! You two played together at UCLA. Have you spoken to her since coming back?”

Tahlia grinned. “Yeah, I messaged her the moment everything was confirmed. She’s been amazing, helping me settle back in. It’s crazy that we started as teammates over in the U.S. and now we’re back together at Chelsea. Feels like things have come full circle.”

The interview wrapped up, and as soon as she stepped away, she spotted Jessie walking toward her with a huge smile.

“Look at you in Chelsea blue again,” Jessie teased, pulling Tahlia into a hug.

“Can you believe it?” Tahlia laughed. “We really went from UCLA to this.”

Jessie smirked. “You always did say you’d find your way back here”

Before Tahlia could respond, a group of players she hadn’t met before and had played with had stopped to watch her interview.

“Wait, is that Tahlia Bliss?” A blonde pretended to whispered, loud enough for Tahlia to hear as well as the camera.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure she face planted on her first goal for Chelsea” another one said pretending to whisper to the group

“Alright thanks for that it’s a new time let’s not focus on my past” Tahlia said getting up and going over to Fran and Millie hugging them

“We missed you” they both said hugging her back

“We had national camp 2 weeks ago” “At Chelsea we missed you at Chelsea” the girls all laughed

Tahlia shook her head with a laugh. “Unreal. I come back after all these years, and that’s still what you lot remember?”

Fran grinned. “Course. It was legendary.”

Before Tahlia could fire back, a voice called from across the room. “Tahlia!”

She turned just in time to see Erin Cuthbert jogging over, arms wide. “I was starting to think you were just a myth!”

Tahlia barely had time to react before Erin pulled her into a tight hug. “Welcome home, mate.”

Something about those words settled deep in her chest. Home. She had spent years chasing growth, experience, something new. But now, standing here in Chelsea blue, surrounded by old friends and new teammates, she realized she had found exactly what she had been looking for.

She smiled, squeezing Erin back. “It’s good to be home.”

—————————————————————————

Yes it’s a short one but I wanted to be able to get into the Chelsea fics quicker and so I wanted to get this out to show her interviews and stuff like that. make sure to request more fics

[coconut530]

I CANNNNNNOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTTT THEY’RE AMAZING 🩷🐦‍⬛🖤

Other WTs today:

[loveanddeepdick]

nerd!choso who is so unknown at school that people go, “who?” when he’s mentioned. you’re pretty sure that only five people knew who he even was.

nerd!choso who is most definitely the president of some club like chess or dead poets society. he saw you at the club fair and fell in love

he thinks he went to heaven when you approach his table at club rush. yuji, although not in chess, was helping choso recruit people since his poor brother was too shy to talk to anyone. you go up to your friend yuji, making small talk with him.

“i’ve never played chess, yuji”, you giggled

“my brother can teach you!”

you glanced over at choso, not even noticing him at first. he was.. pretty. not pretty as in a way your friends would giggle at you when they saw you in a new outfit, not pretty as in the comments you got under your instagram post, but he was a natural beauty.

yuji had to snap you out of it. of course he noticed though, the way you two looked at each other.

nerd!choso who teaches you how to play chess, not letting the two other members of the small club play with you.

nerd!choso who helps you study, helps you carry textbooks, and helps you with midterms and any exams you have.

nerd!choso who has a nosebleed when you give him a small peck on the cheek when he finally confesses to you after months of pining for you.

you two had been studying in his dorm, comfortable with each other as your head was leaning against his shoulder as you two relished in each other’s presence.

“i like you.”

“oh! i like you t—“

“no. i like you.”

you turn to him. a small smile creeping onto your face. you didn’t say anything, only pressing a short kiss on his cheek. he immediately freezes up, his hands turning clammy and sweaty.

“i—uh..”

then, a trickle of blood comes from his nose, dripping onto his cupid’s bow.

“oh my god, cho!”, you gasped as you jump up, running to grab a tissue from his nightstand where he also kept a picture of you two and a bottle of lotion

you leaned in, wiping his nose attentively. as you chide and nurse him while mumbling, choso can’t help but stare down to take a peep at your tank top. he could see the valley of your boobs and the top of your bra. he choked, letting out a startled gasp before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

he knocked out cold on the spot

nerd!choso who keeps a special picture of you in his wallet. he’ll be at his chess club meetings, at lectures, out with his family, and he keeps a hand on his wallet, knowing you’re in there.

the picture was a polaroid he took with your camera, your eyes were just out of frame but he could see a portion of your fucked out face, his cum dripping from your mouth and splattered on your cheeks. you were completely naked and sprawled out on his bed in his childhood home

it was almost funny how a hot goddess of a girl was naked, covered in his cum, and sprawled out, pussy on display on his old lego ninjago bedsheets.

nerd!choso who dedicates every single one of his orgasms to you. if you were with him, he’d find a way to cum inside you. in your mouth or your pussy, he’s find a way inside. of course, he’d also opt for cumming on your tits or on your face, he wasn’t greedy. but what he really wants, is to cum inside your cute little ass! he’s too shy to ask, of course, but the day would come eventually

if you weren’t here though, he’d pull up his personal secret album for you, filled photos and videos with shots of under your skirt, through the crack of your bedroom, from your window, when you just walking around with a tank top. he loved it all.

but his favorites were videos you’d allowed him to take while he was fucking you from the back or in missionary. he loved watching them on repeat, never getting bored of them. after a while, he gained the courage to show you as well.

you checked your phone to see a notification from your boyfriend and gasped when you opened it.

it was an image of the picture he kept of you beside his bed, covered in his semen. in the corner of the photo was his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

‘i miss you 🖤’

[webism]

pornstar!choso has a curated look that throws off a lot of his costars. strong build, straight-set face, hands made to choke and tear… most of those he film with don’t expect to be doted on the entire time.

people joke that pornstar!choso falls a little bit in love with every costar he fucks or gets fucked by. that glossy look that always pulls at his face by the time a scene ends, how his lip trembles with a need to be kissed raw when he cums. he says it's just the bliss of his orgasm—that he gets emotional in the moment, but it doesn't mean anything. well, until he meets you.

pornstar!choso who looks you up before his shoot because your name sounded vaguely familiar when it left his agents lips. he could have sworn you'd fucked before, because when he rolls the syllables of your name on his tongue they're nostalgic and taste like the sweat and laboured breaths of a long night between satin sheets. had you shot a scene together before? or had it been a one night stand?

pornstar!choso who realises that no, he hadn't slept with you before. but the familiarity of your name isn't a coincidence—he's fucked his fist to your videos more times than he can count. your name hits him like lightning, he had typed it into his search bar late in the night, cock hard and in need of instant relief. it's almost scary how well he knows you, what sounds you make when you get close to cumming, how you often arch your back and try to run from the overwhelming pleasure, how your eyebrows knit together when you're feeling so good it almost hurts.

pornstar!choso who realises with a now-red face that you probably don't have a clue who he is, and yet he's cum in time with you for months now. he's pretty sure he's drained his wallet at least twice on your cam shows... what if you recognise his name and piece it together with his username that he donates under? he debates cancelling the shoot, faking covid to get some time at home to hate himself endlessly.

but pornstar!choso realises that this is his chance to get to know how you really feel. he's imagined it so many times, as he fucked fake pussies or his closed fist using spit or his own cum as lube. you'd be warmer, undoubtedly tighter... so much prettier. and he wants to know more: would you prefer to take control and turn him into the toys he so often pretends are you? would you lay back all pretty and let him ruin you on his cock? how deep could you take him he knows he's big but you seem so eager, would you take him to the base with ease or would he have to force it in? bully your pretty pussy until it stretches to his shape?

pornstar!choso who hates the fact that your first, and possibly only, time together would be in front of a production crew and under the unsympathetic lights of a porn set. but he'd fuck on a stage in front of thousands if it means a taste of you.

pornstar!choso who makes it to the shoot before you do, comes ten minutes early to settle his anxieties and get a feel for the scene ahead. the director tells him its a simple shoot, that choso is meant to let you ride him for a while until you pull off and suck his cock for a nice close-up facial shot. the way the director speaks so clinically about sex with you makes choso grimace, he feels pathetic for feeling like this. like he'll be a changed man after feeling you around his cock, which is already painfully hard.

pornstar!choso who hates himself for stumbling over his words when he meets you. he wishes he had never looked you up, though he doesn't doubt seeing your pretty face like this would have wrecked his confidence regardless. you're kind, greet him with a shy smile as if he isn't about to slip balls deep inside of you.

pornstar!choso who, once he has you sitting on top of him on that bed—cameras pointed dutifully as you start to play your role and hike your skirt up so you can sink down on his cock—he can't handle the thought of fucking you like it's nothing, like it's not been the crux of his fantasies in the dark hours at night.

pornstar!choso who, probably to the detriment of his career, pushes you backwards onto the bed and connects his lips to yours in a kiss that surpasses every single fantasy he's had in his mind. you taste good, and he wants more. he speaks against your lips, asks whines a question that makes your stomach coil. 'can i eat you out first? please?'

pornstar!choso who is chided by the production team as he gets his head under your skirt and laps at your pussy in the most desperate act of need he thinks he's ever displayed. those that claim he falls in love with each shoot would be wholly correct in this case: he is in love with the taste of you, with the way your legs trap him in and ask for more. he could eat you for hours, run his tongue from your clit to dip it inside of you in reverence of the goddess he believes you to be. and you laugh at the absurdity of his hunger, at the courage it takes to run off script, and the pure need in which he eats you out.

pornstar!choso who only stops once the director threatens to cut the scene entirely. his cock hurts with how hard it is though, and he thinks the redirection of blood has made him lightheaded, because when he's made to sit back and let you sink down onto his length he swears he meets god.

pornstar!choso who can't help his whines as you ride him, an addiction already laying down roots in his brain. he has to try and think of anything less godly than you to hold on to his orgasm though, because the combination of your body and having subconsciously trained himself to associate you with climaxing is all too strong, and he's a hairs breadth away from cumming prematurely and ruining the scene.

pornstar!choso who realises as you continue, however, that your moans arent the same as he's heard them before, though the speakers of his phone. you're more breathy with him, your moans are less honeyed, more raw—as if coming from your chest rather than your throat. he wonders for a moment if he's not good enough, if you're having to fake your pleasure to save face for the cameras. but you're soaked, and even above the sounds of your shared pleasure he can still hear the squelch of his cock rutting in and out of you.

but before pornstar!choso can question himself further, your eyes are widening and you're latching a hand onto his throat as your pace increases. he can feel the way you tighten impossibly around him, the way your hips stutter and your pupils blow out with lust—you're cumming. and of course he remembers his instructions, to let you climb off of him and take his load over your face... but you're not climbing off of him.

pornstar!choso who understands the pointed look you manage to give him, that it's your turn to bypass the scene direction. you want to be greedy, to feel him finish inside of you, even through the confines of a condom. your moans arent fake, they're the first real ones you've let sound on a porn set—and choso is pulling them from your lungs like a choir's conductor.

pornstar!choso who can't last a minute longer, now with the way you lean in and coax him to climax with your voice, the soft praise that leaves your lips is an aphrodisiac and all too powerful. he sees stars when he cums, full blown galaxies too complex to imagine. call it an out-of-body experience or not, but choso is lost in his orgasm for long enough to warrant you bringing him back down with a soft kiss to his lips. he looks sinful: his hairs come loose, messy and stuck to his forehead. his eyes, though, are what's going to be the subject of a few screenshots taken by his fans: he looks totally infatuated.

pornstar!choso who, after taking a few minutes to settle himself after the shoot, watches as you walk over to him, a very pretty smile pulling at the corner of your lips before you lean down and peck his lips goodbye. he assumes it's the last he'll see of you, that there's no way he's worthy of every tasting you again. that night, he's scared to brush his teeth, to lose the way you linger on his tongue.

pornstar!choso who debates fucking his fist to the memory of you in bed that night. he thinks you've ruined masturbation for him, or sex in general: nothing could quite be the same. and as if its a sign from god that he's done enough good in his life to deserve some positive karma, his phone dings.

a photo of you, a pretty vibrator laid over your stomach. your laptop open in the background, his porn playing on the screen.

attached, a message that makes the poor boy cum in his pyjama bottoms. 'lets meet up again. i want to tie you up and film how stupid you get with a vibe strapped to your cock—a movie just for us, though. no audience.'

pt 2 in the works :p

[tonycries]

I Lasted Ten Rounds!

Synopsis. Marathons - they’re better in bed.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, marathon séx, major overstím, pússydrunk boys, CÚMPLAY, creampíes, mean Geto, squírting, innappropríate use of jujutsu (Gojo and Sukuna), pússy-slappíng, best friend!Choso, aphrodísiacs, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, BRÉEDING, making them cry, full nélson, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hope y’all have a good leak day mwah <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 5 rounds

“Raw.” he breathes, and there’s a strained - almost whiny - shudder being wrenched out of Toji’s hulking body when he sinks inch after long, hefty inch into your plush cunt. Bullying past the barely-there resistance of that first ring of muscle with such a harsh tug of your pliant body down his swollen cock. “R-raw. You- fuck- you finally let me–”

No, it wasn’t the first time you let Toji fuck you into these silken bedsheets without a condom - that was a few hours ago. But that didn’t stop him from spitting out that same, strained accusation, the same greedy little push and pull of his toned hips smacking sloppily against your clingy pussy. 

He was addicted. 

“O-oh, Toji–” you’re babbling, swollen lips glossed with tears, thighs burning at just how long he’s been pounding into you like this. “S’already the- the third? Fourth? Or-”

“Fifth.” he’s cutting you off, with a hoarse chuckle - voice shot already. “Fifth n’-” Head lolling drunkenly into the crook of your neck, it’s all he can do to bite out brokenly, “-oh, my girl- hope y’know m’not hahhh- letting you go until I physically can’t anymore.”

Fifth, huh?

Oh, it was setting in - fuck, was he feeling it. You were so pretty underneath him, sweat-slicked body splayed out all shamefully for him, slurring words barely coherently. And Toji couldn’t even keep his eyes open, stars popping up behind his lids at every one of your velvety clenches, abs burning with each ravaged mash of his overworked, weepy head against your ravaged g-spot.

Fingers jittery where he’s hauling your body desperately to his muscled one. Clinging onto you so close - like a lifeline - that you could hear every tremoringly quiet ah! ah ah! following those long, solid glides, feel his happy trail scratching against your sluttily arched back. 

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good, that even after painting your gluey, sloshing insides white four times tonight already, Toji wanted more more more-

A bludgeoning knee comes down to shove your thighs spread even wider, spreading your puffy pussy lips so gapingly around his thick shaft. 

“Oh sh-shit.” he’s hissing. And Toji Fushiguro never stutters, he never throws his head back to let out such pained whimper like this.“Such a f-filthy pussy.” His pretty pink lips purse to spit a languid wad of his spit down on the bullseye of your slobbering cunt. The chilling dredges oozing a slow trail down your split-open pussy. “The fifth time- n’ y’pretend like this cute cunt of yours can’t handle more of me.”

“Ngh-” your teeth are clamping around one of the cushiony pillows, trembly fingers scrambling jerkily at the headboard, the plush mattress, anything- “You’re in s-so deep- feels like m’gonna pass out. How the hell are you still going?”

Toji rolls his eyes, acting for all the world like those whiny little words of yours don’t have his red, angry tip painting your insides with another honeyed coat of his sweltering precum. “Told ya not to hah- test me doll- just had to run that pretty mouth, huh?”

You’re keening when all five of his calloused fingers come up to smush your cheeks together embarrassingly, “Saying m’not gonna last going in raw- look where ya are now.” Toji’s craning his head to leave wet little kisses up your spine, your jaw, your forehead. Fully bending you in half to meet his lips, angling his riotous hips to graze his sensitive slit right against the swollen, bruised divots on your cervix. “Look where I am- I can’t stop.” 

And your hypnotized hips can only manage to give a last sticky heave meeting Toji’s drunken staccato before splaying limply down on the bed. Moaning around the lewd sucking of his lips around your heavy tongue. 

“No- no come back- shit, m’not-” He’s slowly losing control of those lingering thrusts, desperation bleeding into the way his big arms frantically circle around your weakening waist. Dragging you up, up, up like some glorified ragdoll, “How are ya n-not able to keep up when you hah- came up with the idea, ma.” And for all how gentle he’s being suckling on your pouty lower lip, one hand of his glides down easily to cup at your bulging pussy. Smearing in another quick, branding stream of saliva on your struggling, swollen folds spread so lewdly open around his thick hilt, “Ohhh, gonna make a man lose his sanity with a pussy this heavenly. Doesn’t seem so fair now, does it?”

That delirious little shake of your head makes him bare his canines in a grin, smiling at how utterly fucked-out you were on his mean cock. There’s a lazy, glistening trail of drool at the corner of your lips that Toji idles out his hot tongue to lick away, “Now now. Why don’t you- ah- use those words like a big girl, huh?” 

“Hah- didn’t-” those wet gurgles bubble at your throat, dying down after each harsh clash into your most sensitive spot. He’s reaching every nook and cranny inside of you - drilling cock expanding even girthier with each heady second. “Didn’t think you’d get so-” Another pretty glob of spit onto your cunt, “-addicted!”

“Well, what can I- hah- say?” Each taunting word is pushing you further and further up the bed, Toji’s tense hips hammering into you with no rhythm and rhyme now. Just lingering, mindless grinds chasing that painfully good smack! of his heavy, cum-filled balls at your ass, “When- ngh- when life gives you a wife this cute-”

You think he’s cumming - you think you’re cumming. But you can’t even be fully sure at this point, your own high nothing more than a few white-hot tingles, Toji’s overwhelmed cock straining to squeeze out a few more wispy strings of his milky seed. Until you were drenched in a silky coating down your inner thighs, beading pearly drops of his seed and your sweet sweet juices. To stuff you full even more.“-fuck her at least five times.”

“At- at least?”

Toji grins, “At least.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - As many as you can take (and a lil’ more!)

“My love.” Two soft pads of Nanami’s long fingers tap gently on your cheek, lingering when he lovingly cups your glossy pout. “My love.”

Biting your lip, you whine at his heated intrusion at your pretty cunt. Free hand thumbing open your soppingly wet slit to spread even wider around his thick hilt, scratching up so rawly against those neat tufts of blond at his sharp pelvis. “N’nothing, s’just that- hahh–” cocking your head to nuzzle his large palm, “You’re not- not tired, Ken?”

“Doesn’t matter.” he breathes, minty hot breath fanning your face when he leans in. And you think he’s going to kiss you - to maybe mouth away those big fat, overstimulated tears rolling down your face - but instead, Nanami’s stern lips wrap around your lolling tongue. Sucking. Moaning so depravedly. “All that matters is that- hngh- that–” Splaying out all five fingers on your stomach, pressing down hard where he can feel the divot of his very head, “-the mother of my future kids s’doing alright.”

He can feel that rotund clenching of your snug channel, the way your pussy grows increasingly more soaked with every stuttering nudge at your g-spot. 

When the heady bedroom air is only punctuated with a few sticky squelches from your cunt Nanami has to grit out - to force himself to speak. “Please-” hissing at the velvety silk or his seed swirling around your hole, it makes his toes curl, overworked balls squeeze achingly. Shit. “Give me an answer- please, darling, your cunt s’driving me insane. Fuck- I’ve- I’ve lost count at this point how many times I-”

At this, you can’t help but giggle. Reaching up to lick at the stray, glistening tear falling down his sharp cheekbone, “Are- are you crying, Ken?” The heels of your trembly feet curl tightly against the sinful dimples at the end of his spine, plunging him even deeper into the gloopy bottom of your pussy. “Can’t take any more?”

“No!” Nanami’s usually steady voice just cracks pitifully at the end. “No no no- just- hngh! I can take it- can give y’more. Anything for you, ma.”

Each of his hammering thrusts are slowly getting meaner. Slowly losing control. They’re haphazardly alternating between long, thorough slams of his entirely swollen length to mere jutting, half-thrusts - as if it just pained him to part with your clingy pussy more than that. 

And, shit, he’s so thick - so jaw-slackingly hefty when he twitches animalistically against all your sensitive spots. Gliding in solid, wet smears of his leaky tip against your cervix reminding you of the sheer strength he held. Fucking you so mean, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it - tired, fatigued body moving on animal instinct.

“Darling–” Nanami’s wet croon has you blinking away the lusty haze in your pupils, locking them with his own blown-out ones. “Eyes on me- have to make sure you can- ngh-” You can hear his jaw click with strain when you’re giving an experimental squeeze of your velvety cunt, “-m-me. Hafta make sure you can take it- you can take it, right?”

You’re gasping out brokenly, nodding in response to his question - thighs jittery and you don’t know whether you want to run or fuck yourself back down for more more more-

“Then why are you running, ma?”

Just as those billowing words leave his mouth, Nanami’s falling back onto his thick thighs, grabbing your body right along to seat you prettily down his brutal dick. It was devastating. It was sloppy how silky, stringy ropes of cum were rushing down in a glossy coat. Smacking so sluggishly down below.

“Wh-what?” you’re batting your teary lashes, jaw hanging open at just how much this didn’t sound like your usually gentle husband. Deep voice jagged, gutturally dangerous - he was talking to you in a steady, hard tone as if you were some prey. Setting his lewd sights on you to mash up even harder into your pretty cunt. 

He’s breathing out shakily in a way that told you he was getting close, thighs aching, red tip so angry and flinching in such a dizzy way. “Why- are- you-” The metal band of his gold wedding ring burns into your heated skin, digging possessively when he hauls you close. “-running away? Don’t- don’t think you can escape, darling.”

Those drenched silk sheets bunch up messily behind you at just how firmly he was halting your escape. “S’jus’-” you’re whining, in that syrupy sweet tone that makes him only grow painfully harder. Stiffening his back to drill copious inches, he’s tracing his fingertips back across your stomach. “-you’re in so deep. Think m’- hah, think m’getting close.”

“A-ah– of course you are.” he whimpers, tone lilting upwards at the end. It was just so stimulating how you were taking him so well despite being stuffed to the brim, overflowing in a creamy sheen. “Gotta- gotta get my pretty lady to cum- ngh! Breed her pussy full.” And oh, despite how composed Nanami seemed on the outside you could sense the waver in his words, the way his ruthless pace was evening out to something more messy. Untamed. “Make her the most beautiful momma.”

Brows knitting deeper and deeper every, it hurt - fuck, but it hurt more to not stuff you full until you were round and glowing. To leave even the tiniest chance of you being carried out of this bedroom without carrying his future kid. 

“You can do it- cum f’me.” It’s almost like he’s whispering to himself at this point, stamina withering. One hand of his guides your other own down from your searing grip on his unkept strands, down past his tear-slicked cheeks, down past his wobbly plump lips. Wrapping your fingers tightly around Nanami’s pale neck, forcing your nails to dig into the sweat-beaded skin. “Cum f’me- jus this once, because after this time m’not gonna be playing nice, my love.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 7 rounds

“Shhh, gorgeous.” Geto’s hushed, smooth voice in your ear would almost be soothing, his large thumb gliding against the very peak of your puffed-up clit almost distracting- “S’all part of your special initiation.”

If it wasn’t for the rest of the cult standing behind those semi-sheer watching all of this happen to you, that is. 

Ah, you didn’t know whether that syrupy sweet idea of a special initiation - a rite of passage “just for you” - had you joining Geto’s religious association even sooner.  

Because here you were - your thighs burning with the relentless stretch of Geto’s forearms hooked underneath them, spreading you so fucking shamelessly towards where the countless others in the group were stood behind the covering around the creaky bed. A barely-there sense of privacy while he just ravaged you into the meanest full nelson possible. 

“Oh- fuuuck–” Geto’s groaning at your drunken little squirms on his cock, mouth salivating at the wet squelches being wrenched out with each pressurized thrust. “Just one more round now- come on, seven’s my lucky number. And y’wanna hngh- finish the initiation- right, pretty girl?”

His two strong legs plant even more vice-like on the absolutely drenched sheets, seeping into the creamy puddle of cum and honeyed slick spreading further and further each obscene second. 

That lolling nod of your delirious head has him crashing his sensitive, throbbing tip against your spongy g-spot, already so branded with the bruises of his divot. Holding back each whine after whine threatening to drag out from his throat when your swollen lips meet his in a sloppy graze of a kiss.

Shit, you were so cute - no wonder he had the fucking brilliant idea of fucking you like this. Even if it hurt - even if his achy cock was rubbing raw, over and over and-

“Aww, my pretty baby wants a kiss?” Geto’s leering grin only grows when he glides a dripping coat of wispy precum right across the back of your cervix, it’s so hot inside you - and you feel drunk off of every ooze of his cum from before, sloshing down in a milky white sheen. “Well not until you hngh-” He’s moving to bite down onto your earlobe, pussydrunk mind wondering whether your gummy walls were shaping around every ridge and vein of his shaft by now. “-cum f’me once more.”

“S-Sugu–” your eyes are rolling to the back of your head at the warm, wet cascade of his juices down your thighs, slipping and sliding you easily down his girthy length. “Don’t know if I- if I can cum- hah-” That admonishing smack! on your achy clit is taken in stride, gaping your gummy entrance even wider to swallow his every fucking inch greedily. “But- but I wanna. Wanna cum f’you so badly.”

There’s a muted shuffling from behind the curtains that have Geto’s darkened eyes narrowing in hostility, and he’s possessively turning his head to take in that sinful view of you down below. 

Shit- he could’ve almost came from just the sheer sight. The sight of your glisteningly puffy folds stretched to their limits around the creamy translucent ring around his thick hilt. Velvety walls contorting to massage his attritioning veins, grinding in thorough, purposeful gyrations against his heavily twitching balls. 

You were taking him so good.

And Geto’s never been more happy you couldn’t see the full plane of his face. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the mere sight, teeth biting down on his plump lower lip as if to draw blood. 

“Then do it.” Geto’s biceps just bulge against the small of your waist when they dig into a restraining loop around your body, pinning you down so helplessly to his sculpted front. “Cum f’me like a good girl then. Show me, show them-” The hand not rolling over your sensitive clit dips upwards to angle your face towards the still-watching crowd. His lips are drag so slowly at your heated ear, “-show them what a good girl you are f’me.”

Your cute, wobbly lips cry out in a broken little whine - and then your slutty cunt is just gushing down the entirety of Geto’s furious front. Slobbering a glossy, glossy sheen that coats his milky skin, syrupy and sticking - meshing your bodies so close together he doesn’t know where you begin and where he ends. 

”Good girl- good- hah- good girl.” Geto’s gritting out, trying for all the world to not sound as wrecked as he feels right now. Fuck, ignoring the spiking sensitivity, the stars behind his eyes to chase every little suck of your sopping wet walls, thighs trembly, eyes crinkling with such pathetically big tears. Shit, he’s pussydrunk. Only babbling out, “Ohhh- so perfect f’me, right? Even squirting- too generous f’me, gorgeous.”

It only takes a few more gasps from his ragged chest - heaves even. Delicately pink tip stuffing you so wholly full it’s like you’re about to explode, and Geto’s not too far behind. 

Not at all, in fact, with the way a final, harsh nudge against your springy cervix has him spurting out ribbons of creamy white cum. Oozing out in a thick, viscous polish that drools out of your bulging slit. Leaving a lewd trail of evidence where Geto’s fat cock was rummaging your poor insides. Over and over until he’s shooting nothing but blanks.

And it’s so hot, that you can almost feel it in your lungs. Limbs twitching mindlessly, he’s finding it easy to pull out - to display the gloopy filling lazily trickling out of you. Those slender fingers of his on your clit dance just downwards to circle the ring of your sloppy hole, swirling around that messy gloss. He coats his fingers until they just gleam in the dim lighting. Around and around. 

With a look of pure, unfiltered pride Geto clears his throat authoritatively. Jolting, you realize he’s not addressing you this time, “Everyone, say hello to your new second-in-command.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 6 rounds

Choso thinks he’s cumming - Choso thinks he’s crying, begging out such broken little pleas in your open mouth. He’s wrapping five pale, jittery fingers of his around the furiously red base of his cock, angling the bulbous head of his fat tip just right to press deeply into your greedy entrance. 

“Oh!” you’re smirking down at your best friend, biting back a wrecked moan at just how much he was stretching you, barely even reeling back at the brief resistance. His shredded patience can only wait a beat - two - more watching the snug channel of your cunt gush down in thick, hot streams of his seed from earlier, before bucking his hips up, up up- “Even five times wasn’t enough for you? What did I hah- tell ya about th-the-”

“I know I know, m’sorry, baby–” Choso cries, dark lashes batting at his cheeks when his eyes scrunch up into a pathetic bawl. “M’sorry I accidentally ate your- your ‘special chocolate’ but I fuck- it feels like m’burning all over. Like m’gonna die if I don’t fuck your cute cunt.”

And yet his bruising grip on your hips don’t waver, he’s still prying down your sticky body onto his, strong arms wrenching open your thighs to straddle him even wider. Still so needy - so hot all over with the itching greed to fuck you until one of you breaks.

Truly, it was a surprise to come home and find out your sweet best friend had raided that joke stash of aphrodisiac chocolate gifted by your coworkers last week - a welcome surprise. 

Because here he was - splayed out on your drenched silken sheets, big fat tears glistening across his cheekbones, toned body jolting so harshly at each one of your touches. So pussydrunk that you almost wondered whether it hurt, how his poor, overworked cock wasn’t fucking seizing at this point.

And even if it did, Choso wouldn’t complain - not one bit. 

“Please-” his breath comes out in a feverish puff, as wild as the fingers now toying with your swollen clit. Smearing the creamy dredges of his seed all over your puffed-up folds in tight little circles over and over and- 

Slam!

In a split-second, Choso’s hands are being pinned above his head. It would’ve looked almost comical - your much smaller ones restraining his own, fingers twitching animalistically with every sloppy drag down his pulsingly needy length - but oh, was Choso letting you. Letting himself be used like your favorite toy. 

“You’re being real greedy, Cho–” your teasing voice sends shivers wracking down his entire body. Powerful thighs bucking up in pressurized ruts up into your squelching cunt. “First you ate my- hah- secret stash, n’ now you’re being so hasty makin’ me cum.”

Each one of your words are punctuated by a sticky slam down onto his slowly-reddening pelvis, the fat of your ass being smacked with his sharp hipbones. You were riding him to insanity. 

“Yes!” Choso’s jaw hangs deliriously open, rosy red lips forming around your name again and again like a mantra. “M’so greedy- so greedy for your pretty pussy.” He whines, and just the feeling of your velvety walls milking his fat length for so long has his syrupy mess of a mind thrown into such a primal frenzy. “Can’t help it when you’re so heavenly, baby– K-keep wantin’ to fuck this cunt forever.”

The painful pull of your fingers weaving into his dark strands have him keening, latching onto the very tips of your sensitive nipples bouncing temptingly onto his face. “Can’t help it.” he echoes, swirling his hot tongue around your sweet areola, looking up at you with his gorgeously glassy, dark eyes. “Really can’t help it.”

There’s such a sickly, syrupy sweet staccato of Choso’s probing tip pressing deep into the drippingly wet g-spot inside you. And slowly - but steadily - your deft fingers find themselves dancing a path down to wrap around Choso’s heavily gulping throat. Breath hitching when they squeeze-

“Cum f’me, Cho-” he raises his lolling head up to meet yours, meshing back into a messy excuse of a kiss. Your teeth sink down to tug on his pouty bottom lip, fingers tightening, “Cum f’me- s’all to cure you of this chocolate after a-all, right?” 

At the reminder of that, his wrists try to wrench useless in your other hand’s vice-like hold. And honestly, Choso doesn’t know if he wants to cum again - he doesn’t know if he can. But the soft clingy feeling of your walls against his girthy shaft have him gasping, poor, overworked balls so raw. Tight and clenching painfully with every crashing push into your g-spot. He’s absolutely ruined. 

And both of you know it.

Oh, his head was so light now - your fingers vice-like around his pale throat. The only thing that Choso can seem to urgently choke out right about now is a honeyed, dragged-out drawl of, “Spit-” His wild cock leaking hot precum in another drippingly saturated wave everywhere, “Spit in my mouth, baby–”

And you do - that translucent wad of saliva barely hitting right in the middle of Choso’s lolling-out tongue before he cums. That ravaged divot on the very tip of his fat head stuttering out only one, two tiny beads of milky seed before he’s riding out such an addictively dry orgasm. 

Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head, body sweat-slicked and clinging onto yours with creamy strings of cum and spit. So desperate when he’s fucking into you so filthy, pummelling you along the curve of his length like he was trying to drag out another milky stream of seed. Again and again and-

It takes only a split-second to break out of your hold - of course, it does - and you’re barely even registering it when Choso pins you back onto the sloppy mess of your soaked sheets. Hips still relentless, voice still ragged- “Think we’re gonna hafta hah- skip the dating n’ go straight to marriage after this, baby.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 8 (and a half) rounds

If there was ever a time that the infamous king of curses would let out raspy little whimpers of his baritone voice - muscled just heaving deep gasps, looking at you all four eyes glistening with wet tears, hearts in his gaze - it would be right now. 

When the day sitting around his throne had been too long, when there’d been just a few too many scum curses groveling at his feet. 

When you were sprawled all prettily on his muscular, manspread thighs, your expensive robes pulled up just enough for that gummy cunt of yours to stretch open gapingly around his two matchingly rock-hard cocks. The plush of your ass on full, obscene display for him, limbs twitching with each swallowed-up inch down his fat, throbbing lengths. 

“Fuuck- take it easy, woman.” he’s hissing, powerful hip rutting upwards to skim his sensitive tip over the ends of your slobbering pussy. 

That has you pouty tearily, huffing out a low, “W-well- jus’ want you to hngh- be right-” Skittish fingers fluttering over to where you could feel him coating every hidden spot of your insides in his potent seed, angry cockhead bruising your taut channel more and more open around him. It was such a delicious stretch. And you’re pressing down where you can feel the divot of his head knock feverishly on your womb, splattering around milky dredges inside you, “-here.” 

Sukuna’s hips just surge forwards, like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. 

“Kuna- wh-wha-” you’re barely able to get out, whirling your head half-lucidly over your shoulder. But you don’t get very far - because one domineering palm hastily turns your face right back. “What are you-”

“No.” he’s letting out a strangled moan, leaving neat little indentations of his black, sharpened fingernails on your skin. “No you don’t get to- oh–” In a flash, sharp canines are digging menacingly right above the pulsepoint on your throat, and his hot breath fans over your ear. “Ah- y’don’t get to see me hngh- like this- fuckin’ embarrassing. I can’t even-” 

Sukuna’s cutting himself off by getting up onto two unsteady feet, holding you plastered so close onto his bowed body. The position is so precarious that for a second you’re worried, wondering how the hell the two of you haven’t broken any bones these past eight rounds. 

It’s his reversed curse technique, you later learn - but for now all you can do is gasp at your legs dangling in midair, spine arched back against his bulging pecs in a perfect arch, raising your head up, up, up and oh-

His eyes are aflame, glowing through the hypnotically dim lighting. Teeth bared into such a vicious grin one which only curls wider when you ask, “C-can’t even what, Kuna?”

He hisses down at the absolutely sultry look on your face - kiss-bitten lips falling slack into a soft oh! eyes half-lidded and miles away, your moans ringing through his ears like his favorite melody. “Heh- the fuckin- ah-” Another staggering push past your clingy sopping walls have him spitting out little swears, vision blurring dangerously at the corners. “-the fuckin’ audacity t-to ask me that, knowing what yer doing to me. S’pposed to help me relax but you’re hngh- driving me insane.”

You swear, you could feel his bulbous heads grow even thicker, expanding their way into contorting your gripping walls around his very shape. The even deeper intrusion has him throwing his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing with a dragged out moan of your name. 

A limp hand of yours dares to thread its way into Sukuna’s, tugging - pulling, “Look at me, please–?” And when he finally does - though, not before punishing the curve of your ass with such a stinging smack - you smirk, “Look so- ngh! pretty when you’re ruined like this, Kuna.”

That makes him falter - it makes his eyes grow just a bit wider, the insides of your elastic cunt being inflated open with another fresh wave of his furiously leaking precum. 

“Don’t-” Sukuna clears his throat of any traitorous dredges of a whimper, “Don’t push your- your luck, brat.”

But he couldn’t hide the fondness in his tone, that tiny little drawl of a whimper in his words. Heavy, pink lashes clumping up together with his overstimulating tears. It only takes a few more solid rams into your sweet hole - milking the bloated ends of his lengths for something delicious - a few more sharp, branding slams of his curving balls against your cunt. So large and aching for release that when they do, the sheer volume of Sukuna’s cum makes you dizzy.

Double the amount. It overspills, splattering half the thick, silky contents onto the decadent throne room floor. Soiling a sinful little puddle that he just can’t help but smile at, tutting mockingly, “Now now, look what you’ve done- making things even- hngh! even more stressful f’me now with this to clean up.” 

Out of his four beefy arms, two of them pin your own easily behind your back, the other dipping down to roll your puffed-up clit between his thick index and thumb. And the last one- fuck, the last one was pooling all the milky white ribbons of cum slobbering out of your stretched-out entrance. Velvety spurts dousing your walls once more - and he’s having so much fun, molding out your gummy cunt around to squeeze his fingers right in-between his two cocks. 

Still rutting into you - still cumming from both heads - every jackhammering thrust sparks stars behind his eyes. Back muscles curving deeper and deeper into you when he replaces every dredge of cum oozing down your saturated slit with a new one. The thrumming hum of his jujutsu making you keen-

“So messy. Such a filthy cunt my woman has-” he sighs, in a dark little way you knew meant he was just seconds away from tearing you apart. “Hmmm…wonder if it’ll be more relaxing. if I cum dry?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - RIP.

The strongest looks up at you with big, teary blue eyes, long lashes twinkling his pretty cheekbones every time he’s batting them. “Please. Just the tip-”

“Toru-”

“Please.” Gojo whimpers out, two of his massive hands laying at rest on the curving globes of your ass. Squeezing. Kneading you desperately in shallow, lazy grinds up and down his furiously leaky cock, “Please, sweetheart, don’t think I can handle cockwarming.” His abds are aching when they flex upwards towards you, “Haven’t had my hngh- fill just yet.”

You’re gasping when he has the audacity to give your plump clit a sharp smack! the pressurized buzz of his jujutsu from earlier sending white-hot electricity running down your arched spine. Splaying your cunt so deliciously to massage against your bulging g-spot. “N-nice try.” you grit out, legs trembling at the feeling of his thick, potent cum sliding out of your surprised entrance. “But I don’t think you’re ready- you’ve already set the lights off with your jujutsu being overstimulated, Toru.”

“Jus’ the tip- m’kay? Just the tip, I swear-” If you were of a clearer state of mind maybe you’d have pointed out that Gojo was well past the tip at this point. Feeling his fat head curve at your womb, knocking in a merciless, methodical pace. “Just missed you so much today- hah- gotta make up for lost time.”

He flashes you a devilish grin - one you’re somewhat ashamed to admit has your sopping cunt drip down a fresh sheen of your sweet sweet juices down his curvaceous length. Pooling at his frantically, painfully squeezing balls. 

And Gojo notices - of course, he does - even with his six eyes getting a bit too bleary right about the eighth? ninth? round. Ah, fuck, it didn’t matter anyway- 

“Then- then that’s good, isn’t it? Lights out- across all of hah- Tokyo, I bet.” His wretchedly strained tone is so different from the incessant pace of his bullying cock. Bludgeoning deep into your most secure spots, he’s nudging apart every velvety crevice of your walls, making such a mess of the creamy white seed of his dripping from the inside. Gliding his nose up the sweat-slicked column of your throat, “So really- we have nothing better to do. How about you- hngh- let me paint this pretty pussy white all over again?”

Of course, you wanted him to - but it was so fun how your barest tease makes Gojo fall apart. Pouty lips running a mile a minute.

His words are almost sleepy, and both of you aren’t even lucid enough to do anything about the ever-spreading puddle of cum and slick right below you. Meshing your lips drunkenly in an intoxicatingly sloppy kiss, “Come onnnn–” he’s babbling at your pointed silence. “One more? M’begging- begging, sweetheart. You got the strongest on his ah- knees n’ unable to use his powers.”

You knew so many people - so many curses - would kill to have Satoru Gojo all helpless like this. His lips moving faster than his overstimulated mind right now, drool dripping down the side of his rosy red mouth. So sensitive right now - unable to fight back. The only show of his previous prowess of strength being a stray flicker of blue lightning at his eyes when you’re cushioning his fat length with your clingy walls just a bit too hard, 

He’s heaving now - gasping deep, lungfuls of air every time his bruising grip is just bouncing your pliant body erratically down onto his. Wreckless, lunging slams that have your knees weak, stars flickering behind your lids. 

“Come on- come onnn–” He spits so syrupy sweetly into your panting, open mouth. Slender fingers wrapping around your clit, and it just throbs with the steady hum of his reversed curse technique. Stopping the two of you from breaking bones - because shit, how the hell is Gojo going to fuck up into you like an animal. Desperate little pleas of yes! yes! yes! wrenching from you at the stimulation. “Give it t’me, missed so much when you were gone out today. Please-”

“Hngh! S’too- too-” you’re drawling out incoherent sentences to match his. “Yeah- fuck yes- jus’ like that, Toru–” 

It’s only because of Gojo’s ungodly stamina that he was even able to last this long - the fact that he hadn’t fucked himself into a stupor at this point. And that’s the only thing, along with a few fumes of his reversed curse technique that have him careening smacking away your pathetic attempts to meet his thrusts.

The sensitivity too much, that he’s bawling - unable to handle the saturated drags of your slobbering pussy down his raw shaft. Mouth lolling open when you feel two big arms circle around your waist, mumbling tearily, “Wait- fuck hold that- think m’-” Like something snaps in the air.

Because then he’s cumming - at least, Gojo can feel himself cumming. This time, there’s no shattering of lightbulbs, no gleaming power in his pupils, because his poor body was too fucked-out for this. Too tired to do anything but have his heavy, strained-out balls just clench, shooting up wispy blanks into your readily swallowing pussy. 

“Oh!” he’s throwing his head back at the sheer overwhelming pleasure, beading out only a few, pearly little beads of sticky seed. But fuck, was Gojo riding out his high - riding out yours. Fucking you through each convulsing little clench of your silky cum-slicked walls, a high you’ve barely even registered still. “I don’t- I don’t know if I-”

“Don’t, Toru.” you warn, but it’s too late - only one, fleeting glance at your prettily stuffed pussy, the creamy little outer ring on your entrance, the way your puffy folds are just quivering like you’re in need of more - has Gojo intaking a sharp gasp. 

His wrecked eyes widen, looking almost afraid. Breath hitching, his words are shrill - barely audible, “Think- think we haven’t made up for lost time yet, sweetheart.”

“Toru, I was gone for five hours.”

“And?”

A/N. Gojo nation will we get a comeback today plsplspls?!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[arolesbianism]

The Joshua section of my oni playlist is looking great so far