#Out of a desire to have spent more time with him

[that-one-girl2020]

Role Reversal Pt. 4

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: Oh my gosh, this one was a doozy. The reader and the boys’ personalities are just the slightest bit different from them in the original series because they have different experiences now. So Jum is less curious and childlike and the reader is more proactive in getting to know them instead of the other way around. Also, I promise I see all of your guys’ requests, even the ones in comments, I read all the comments. I just take time to get to each one depending on my inspiration, I have like fifty requests sitting in my inbox right now and I will try my best to get to each of them.

Synopsis: With Gwi Ma’s orders hanging over your head and the girls not being much help, you take your own steps to get to know the boys on your own.

CW: Low self esteem, insecurity, suicidal ideation (?), violence, bug eating (yes, you eat a bug), swearing/cursing.

Word Count: 6.1k

<< Part 3 || Master List

(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, Abby = Kwan)

The competition began. The two idol groups clashed fiercely, promoting their music and performing with a ferocity that would be more apt for a gladiator ring and not what was viewed in the industry as friendly rivalry.

Not long after you had met with Jinu and Jum, the other girls made their own reluctant moves. Your sister sent Jinu a note to meet—when she came back she seemed more thoughtful but when asked, she said that she felt like she would have a hard time dealing with Jinu. Mira, in her own passive aggressive way, ambushed Abby and Romance which led to a two hour long chase through the city where she cackled and taunted the boys. She had fun, but it didn’t seem very productive. Zoey had crashed into Mystery’s room—not literally—and bombarded the man with nail polish, random movies she had grabbed at the store, and a desire to know all the gossip that he knew. Also not very productive.

The girls spent more time with each other than working on their mission so you decided to broaden your task.

Before the end of the week, you had Arson and Sprite tailing the boys, keeping watch on them. So when they told you that one of the boys had left the Tower on their own, you jumped at the opportunity.

You teleported into an alley and easily slipped into the crowd of people on the sidewalk, walking beside the quiet man. Ever the observant one, he didn’t even need to turn his head to notice you there.

”Jinu and Jum have been acting weird.”

”Who?” You asked before really thinking about it.

“Baby. They’ve been off since the bathhouse. What’d you guys do?” Mystery asked you bluntly.

“Why didn’t you ask Zoey?” You dodged the topic, stuffing your hands in your pockets casually. It seemed like the two men hadn’t told the others about what had happened or about their meetup with you. Interesting. The boys didn’t fully trust each other, it seemed.

Mystery’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile, “She was a little too energetic. Couldn’t get a word in edgewise before one of the guys came to ask what all the noise was about.”

You nodded, a hesitantly fond smile pulling at your lips, “Yeah, sounds like her.” The two of you walked along quietly for a few more minutes. You found it surprisingly peaceful. The people around you were just going about their own days and the sun was shining down and warming your skin. It was nice.

Hyeon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. It was a little jarring to see you in casual clothes since he had really only seen you in your idol persona. Especially since the scars he had thought you and your sister had been hiding with makeup were actually demon patterns glamoured to look like faint scarring.

Hyeon didn’ t know that you and Rumi were actually unable to fully conceal your patterns with demonic means, even now. Gwi Ma’s idea of a joke since you both had tried so hard to run from them in the past.

“Can I ask?” You spoke, shaking you and him from your thoughts. “What’s with the stagenames?”

Mystery turned his head to look at you, not that you could tell. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, they just feel a little… off?”

Mystery turned his head to look forward again after watching you for a long moment. “They give us personas, safety nets when we’re performing or interacting with fans. At least, that’s what the company told us. Some of us picked our names and some of us didn’t.” You nodded at his answer, mulling the information over in your head and trying to guess which of the guys chose their names and who didn’t.

“Why don’t you guys have stage names?” Mystery asked curiously.

“I’m not sure,” You shrugged again, rolling your head back to look at the sky thoughtfully. But then you almost tripped over your own feet so you looked straight again. “The girls didn’t want one so I didn’t either. They’re trying to be more human, I guess.”

Mystery hummed for a moment. The two of you fell into a peaceful silence again. You paused when he turned into a building with dark lights inside, “What is this place?” You asked curiously, looking around at the game boxes and flashing lights curiously.

“Arcade,” Mystery answered simply and you followed behind him. “I come here to destress and get out of my head when I’m thinking too much.”

“Oh,” was all you said. Your head was turning this way and that as you tried to take in everything around you.

“Jum sometimes comes too, but he usually prefers pc and console games.”

You nodded, pretending like you knew what any of that meant. You were surprised when he handed you a plastic card full of prepaid tokens. You weren’t sure what to do with it so you just followed him.

It was surprisingly fun once you got the hang of it all. You won yourself a cute keychain from a claw thing. You didn’t win against Mystery though, not during any of the games he showed you. He let you pull him curiously into a Photo Booth, letting you choose the border and the effects. Though you weren’t sure, but he might have growled at some guy who was staring for longer than you felt comfortable with.

Hyeon didn’t know what to make of you. He couldn’t help but find it endearing how you looked at everything in the arcade with open curiosity and how you smiled unrestrained when you were focused on a game. Even when you pouted, sulking when you lost, he should’ve felt nothing for you, a demon, but his heart was light with you.

By the time your tokens ran out—after the second time he refilled your cards—it was late and the two of you had called it a day. Before the two of you parted, you held out the keychain you had worked hard to get from the claw game, “Here.” He held out his hand and you dropped it, giving it to him as he blinked down at the keychain. “Thanks for today, Mystery.”

“Hyeon.”

You tilted your head in surprise that he had given you his actual name. It wasn’t like their actual names were secret, they were online and on their biographies. But you and the girls stubbornly called them by their stagenames as a reminder that this was a mission and they were just targets. However, if Mystery was insisting you call him by his actual name, that meant you were getting closer to him, like you were supposed to, right? It…made you feel…warm.

You smiled, “Thanks Hyeon.” You teleported away.

Hyeon lingered, watching the spot you had just disappeared from for a moment longer. Somehow, he found himself missing your presence. Your perfume lingered in his senses. He looked down at the keychain again before carefully tucking it away in his pocket.

Maybe he would try and find what perfume it was that you were wearing. Just to have around…

~~~

Your time with Mystery—Hyeon, went surprisingly well, in your opinion. Though, there was tension when at an award ceremony, Huntr/x was awarded the most listened to of the week thanks to the climbing popularity of ‘The Baddest.’ Plenty of demonic charm helped with your growing popularity as well.

Your next chance to become closer with the boys came just after the award ceremony. Sprite was covering for you with the girls by making an illusion of you sleeping in your room. Abby—according to Arson, your precious baby boy—had left the Tower on his own to get some air since he was so frustrated at losing to you girls that day.

The man was heading towards the river to clear his head and you teleported ahead, sitting on the edge of the river with your legs dangling over the water. It was a peaceful place. Especially at night when there weren’t a whole lot of people around. Looking out, the city lights reflected off of the water like a wobbly reflection of the night sky.

You heard footsteps approaching you and looked up, locking eyes with the startled Abby. Neither of you said anything. Honestly, you hadn’t really thought this through.

Abby grit his teeth and suddenly leapt at you, summoning his battle axe while you scrambled to dodge the brutal strike with a yelp. You took off running down the sidewalk. “WHAT DID I DO?!” You shrieked. You weren’t Mira. You didn’t enjoy running for your life as men with rainbow star weapons chased you.

Kwan continued chasing you, his teeth grit and his muscles flexing as he pumped his legs as hard as he could. He was sick of these demon girls putting their fans in danger and keeping them from sealing the Honmoon. The pink haired demon girl had been annoying enough when she had led him and Chungae on a chase through the city, mocking them the whole time. “You existed!”

You groaned, your mouth running before you could really think about it, “Ugh, you’re just like my fucking Aunt!”

Abby came to a screeching halt, completely thrown off by what you had just blurted out. He almost fell over with how hard he braked but he was able to catch himself. “Wait a fucking minute, you have an aunt? Demons have families?” He questioned incredulously.

You also slid to a halt, turning to look at him but still ready to run if you had to. “Uhm, yeah? Obviously. Rumi is my sister, you know. Did you seriously think we didn’t?” You couldn’t help but deadpan at him a bit. Hunters really didn’t know anything about demons besides how to kill them.

“No,” Abby shook his head, denying it like it was obvious to assume that living creatures had no other relatives or familial relations of any kind. “I thought it was just a ruse. How do you have an aunt?”

This time you really did deadpan at him. “Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much—“

Abby snarled, cutting you off, “You know that’s not what I meant!” Abby took a deep breath, settling his temper so he could get the answers that he wanted. “Demons don’t have families,” He said stubbornly.

You shook your head, “Most demons come from human souls in one way or another. It’s just a matter of if they remember their human lives.”

Abby made a skeptical face, his grip on his weapon never wavering for a second. “And you do?”

You nodded, re-explaining what you had already told Jinu and Baby. “Three types of demons: first, the kind that are created from the souls Gwi Ma consumes are more inhuman because they don’t remember their human lives. Second, the kind that are born to two demons, they don’t know anything else besides the demon realm. And finally, the kind of demon that humans are turned into after they make a deal with Gwi Ma out of desire or desperation.”

Abby scoffed, intuitively knowing which one you and the other three girls were. The four of you were able to mimic human emotions much better than the other demons the boys had killed. “So what? You made a deal with Gwi Ma for fame? Power?”

Your face fell flat. You didn’t want to talk about it. It still hurt. But it wouldn’t hurt for much longer as long as you fulfilled your mission. “Love, actually,” you answered stoically.

Abby actually did falter, his axe lowering just the slightest bit before he steeled himself and lifted his axe back to aim at you. “You were so desperate for love that you asked the demon king to make someone love you? What? A guy didn’t love you back or something?”

You frowned at Abby’s intentionally cruel words, snapping back at him, “Nobody loved me! Just because I was born different, because I didn’t look how they wanted, nobody loved me.” You looked away from him, a stupid move to make as he still had his weapon. But the old bitter memories choked your throat and left you aching and vulnerable in a way that made it feel like you couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t see his reaction to how pitiful you were.

Meanwhile, Kwan slowly lowered his axe, letting it fade away. It was too familiar. It brought to the surface his own memories that he did his best to keep out of thought, reasoning that it was in the past and didn’t matter anymore. But it still did.

When he was younger, he was the outcast no matter where he went. After he lost his parents when he was young he was put into foster care. All the other kids always avoided him due to his taller height, bigger frame, and frightening features. As he got older, it got worse. Even adults started avoiding him, labeling him a violent delinquent just because of how he looked and how quiet he was. Dance had been his only reprieve.

So he got it.

Quietly, he spoke, “Sorry…” He didn’t know where to look or what to do now. At that moment, you were just a girl that he could relate to.

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I…” Abby sighed, clenching and clenching his fists, frustrated at himself. “I do get it.”

He didn’t say any more about the matter. So you simply nodded slowly, “Okay.”

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Abby blurted out and you could see panic flash through his eyes. He was cursing his own impulsivity. But you chuckled and nodded, “Sure. Anywhere in mind?”

He nodded, “Yeah, c’mon.” He gestured with his head and you slowly joined his side, the two of you walking together, quietly to wherever Abby had in mind for food—his own small peace offering after saying things he did.

You guys ended up at a street market. It seemed like he came there often as he talked to the elderly stall owners as familiarly as one would with their own grandparents. The two of you had a few different dishes like chicken skewers and tteokbokki. You grimaced when he stopped to get a cup of beondegi. Silkworm pupae.

He noticed your look and held them out to you, chuckling when you stepped back, “What? Never had them before?”

You just eyed them skeptically, “They came way after my time.”

Abby snorted, “Okay, grandma. Here, just try it once.” You whined unsurely but he merely held it out closer to you. “Come on, granny, just one.”

You slowly took one in your fingers, eyeing it with a grimace. Finally, you bit the bullet—or, well, bug—and popped it in your mouth, biting down. You flinched slightly when all the juices came out but then you actually tasted it and calmed down. You hummed.

“And?” Abby asked curiously. “How is it?”

You swallowed. “Not bad. Kind of nutty. But I’m not eating it again.”

Abby shrugged, “Fair enough. At least you tried it.”

The two of you continued on, eating different foods. Whatever you didn’t finish went to his never ending appetite, which was slightly disturbing to see. Eventually, you both were full and had to part ways or else your groups would come looking for you. That is, if the girls realized it was just Sprite back at the apartment.

“Thanks,” You told him softly, not looking directly at him. “For giving me a chance, Abby.”

He didn’t respond for a moment so you started walking away. But then his voice stopped you. “Call me Kwan.” You turned to look back at him in surprise but he put on an air of nonchalance, like it wasn’t that big of a deal. “Don’t think this means we’ll go easy on you. We’re still gonna crush you and those other three at the next awards.”

You chuckled, “Sure, Kwan. See ya,” you waved and walked off to find a good spot to teleport from.

Kwan watched you go, conflicted. It was weird how normal and…understood he felt with you. Maybe it was because you both had similar experiences with your appearances. But he didn’t know why nobody would love you, you were beautiful. You must have been gorgeous before your demon patterns.

~~~

Things were going well for you. Almost frighteningly so.

You had made close contact with four out of five of the boys. Well… Jinu and Baby had come to your meetup and hadn’t tried to kill you. You hadn’t really done any actual bonding like you did with Hyeon and Kwan. You might have to do some one on one interactions…

Anyway, you were at least glad that you were able to turn Kwan trying to kill you into him empathizing with you and getting food together. The girls were working on another song to release in case their one song wouldn’t get them high enough on the charts. You also made some progress with your own ideas when you had free time.

But today, Sprite had let you know that the other male pinkette had ventured outside of the Tower on his own. So you changed out of your practice clothes and teleported over. Said male was at the park, breathing in the fresh air and people watching. While also sitting on the most picturesque bench in the whole park since it was surrounded by flowers and shaded trees.

So, you picked a flower and made your way over from behind, leaning your arms on the bench while he was too distracted to notice you. You poked his cheek with the flower and he practically jumped a mile into the air, ending up on the other end of the bench.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Hey.”

Chungae looked at you with wide eyes, his gaze darting from the civilians around the park and then to you. You were here. Why were you here. With a flower. He wanted to summon his fans—his weapons fans, not his fanatic fans—to kill you before you became a bigger problem than you already were but he couldn’t do it out in public like this.

“What’re you doing here?!” Romance hissed as you rounded the bench to sit on the opposite end from him.

“Getting some air,” You shrugged your shoulders, fiddling with the stem of the flower.

He narrowed his eyes at you dubiously, “Y’know, you can get in trouble for picking the flowers here.”

You eyed him, “Really? And who’s gonna yell at me?”

Romance deadpanned at you. Then he nudged his head to the side, “They will.” You turned your head to look and, sure enough, there were some park workers walking down the sidewalk.

Your eyes widened and you cursed, “Here, you take it!” You shoved the flower into his hands. “Happy birthday!” You spat out the first words that came to mind, ready to run so you could avoid getting in trouble.

Romance blanched, pushing it back towards you, “Birthday? It’s not my birthday! Take back your felony!” He hissed at you.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” You gritted at him, pushing the flower back towards him.

“It’s not Valentine’s Day!”

“Well, just take it!”

“No!”

The two of you froze a little comically when the park workers walked past the two of you. They were chuckling but they didn’t give the two of you a second glance. When neither of you faced the wrath of the workers, you both sighed a breath of relief, Romance actually taking the flower, “Well, in that case, thanks for the flower, darling.”

You snorted, “No problem, handsome,” You cooed in return jokingly.

You weren’t prepared for the man to blush, looking away shyly to cough into his fist.

Chungae quickly changed the subject, stiffening as he reminded himself that you were a demon that wanted to suck the souls of his fans. “What’re you doing here, again?”

You leaned back against the bench. “I told you, I wanted some air,” You repeated yourself.

“Right,” Romance drawled, looking at you suspiciously. “And I’m here to slaughter children.”

You gasped dramatically, looking at him scandalized, “You are? And here I thought you were this morally upright demon hunter!”

Romance couldn’t help but snort at your dramatics. “It’s called sarcasm, darling. I’m people watching.”

The both of you turned to look around. You looked at the people going about their days, peaceful and content for the most part. “Why? What’s so interesting about it?” You asked.

It’s not that you didn’t people watch either. But you did it because you wanted what normal humans had. Love, happiness, acceptance, safety, comfort. Take your pick, you wanted at least a sliver of one of them. You were curious why the man did it though.

Romance was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. “They have something I don’t,” was all he responded with.

And you could understand that.

You merely hummed in understanding, the two of you sitting in silence for a while as you both watched the people around you. There was a woman on the swings with a baby in her lap. Some girls were having a picnic, taking pictures and giggling over their phones. An elderly couple was shuffling down the sidewalk arm in arm. A married couple was sitting at a table with their kid.

Chungae was uncertain about you. He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You were just quietly sitting there, watching people go by about their days. There wasn’t a glimmer of demonic plotting in your eyes, you were just watching… He wasn’t sure what, but there was something about you that he recognized in himself. He should’ve hated it, hated that he could see a part of himself in you, a demon. But, he couldn’t. Because it was a part of him that was still a child on the inside.

“Why are you doing this?” Romance broke the quiet between you.

You didn’t look at him, your eyes on two little girls running through the trees. “I have my reasons.”

He scoffed, “That’s not an answer.”

“It is, it’s just not the one you wanted.”

Romance huffed, the two of you falling into silence again. Despite the slight tension between you, it wasn’t a stifling silence. It was just thoughtful.

You sighed, reminding yourself that in order to succeed you had to have some semblance of vulnerability. “Gwi Ma said he would get rid of a certain memory if I do this.”

Romance turned his head to look at you in surprise. “A memory?” He echoed questioningly.

“From my human life. Before I was a demon,” You explained to him. It was just another point in your theory that the boys didn’t communicate with each other very well. “Not all demons were demons forever. A lot of us still remember our human lives.”

“And…” Romance drawled unsurely, “What’s the memory you want gone?”

You answered vaguely, “Somebody I thought loved me betrayed me.” Everyone you thought loved you ended up betraying you.

“Oh,” Romance answered dumbly. “Well, then it wasn’t real love.”

You looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Love isn’t like that. If someone really loves you, then they would never betray you,” Romance explained.

Chungae hoped he sounded sure in his words because he absolutely was not. How could he when he had no idea what love was like? He didn’t remember familial love, friendly love, and he had never experienced romantic love. He was just using his own flawed fantasies and media he had consumed as his expectations for love. That was all he could do.

You weren’t aware of his thoughts as you took his words in. They were comforting, in their own way. You felt validated in your anger and frustration but the hurt was still there. It was okay though. The hurt would go away soon, you reminded yourself.

For now, you simply smiled at the pink haired man, “Thanks Romance.”

“Chungae,” He found himself correcting you. He was surprised at himself but he didn’t take it back, “Call me Chungae.”

Your smile became more genuine, “Thanks Chungae.”

The two of you turned back to watch the people in the park around you. You two were still enemies, but right now? You two were comfortable in the soft space that had formed around you.

~~~

You decided that you should try and get some one on one time with Jinu and Baby.

But it seemed like the two didn’t leave the Tower often—on their own or otherwise. So you would have to have them come to you or you would have to go to them. Your choice was made when Arson left Sprite alone.

You followed Arson to the Tower and teleported up to the balcony. Sprite’s eyes were glowing faintly, a sign that he was using his illusion powers. “What’re you doing?” You muttered to the bird quietly. Sprite merely made his little ko-aw noise. So you peeked through the glass to see what the mischievous little bird was doing and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter.

Jinu was standing on top of a chair in the middle of his room, swinging a pillow pathetically at the floor every now and then before instantly regretting it and going back to using it as a shield. On the floor, maybe a dozen or two dozen spiders were crawling along the floor. They weren’t that big, maybe an inch or so big, but they were black and fuzzy with little pincers. One stopped at the base of the chair, looking up at the man. The two stared at each other for a moment, Jinu’s eyes wide and his pupils shrunk. Then the little spider hissed and Jinu jumped, shrieking.

You snorted, sliding the balcony door open easily, “Okay, Sprite, that’s enough. Don’t want to make too much of a ruckus." Jinu’s head whipped around to you as Sprite made a rattling noise that kind of sounded like a laugh before all the spiders faded out of existence. After a moment, you spoke again, “Y’know, you should lock your balcony. Never know who might just come in.”

Jinu still didn’t say anything.

“Nice pants.”

Jinu looked down, his face turning red when he remembered that he was wearing his custom Derpy and Sussie lounge pants that had little hearts and hats around their chibi figures. He tried to scramble down from the chair, “What’re you—“

You winced when he tripped and tumbled from atop the chair as the desk chair with wheels rolled while he was trying to get down. “…Are you okay…?”

He continued to lay face down on his carpet. “…Yeah.” After he took a deep breath, Jinu pushed himself up and looked at her. “What are you doing here?”

You nodded to where Arson was sitting at the bottom of Derpy’s cat tower, the two animals in a strange staring contest. “Arson came to get me when Sprite started his mischief. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Jinu shook his head, habitually answering, “It’s fine.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. He had never had a girl in his space like this before. He wasn’t sure if you being a demon made it better or worse.

You pursed your lips awkwardly and wandered further into his room, “So… what’cha doing?”

Jinu stuttered, darting to his desk to shove some papers in a drawer. For some reason, he didn’t want you to see the draft of lyrics for the Saja Boys’ new song. And not because he didn’t want to ruin the surprise of the diss track. But because he…didn’t want you to see the hateful lyrics. “Nothing. Just, uh…just working on some songs.”

The two of you froze when there was a knock on his door. “Jinu? You alright in there?” Kwan’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Hide!” Jinu hissed at you, grabbing Arson and shoving the two of you into his closet where all his casual clothes were kept. He slammed the door behind you and you heard him open the door, greeting his member.

You were a little frazzled, turning the flashlight on your phone on so you could see where Jinu had shoved you. You stopped when your light shined on a bookshelf against the wall across from you. It was full of containers. Full of tiny hats.

Meanwhile, Jinu was trying to smile normally at his fellow group member, “Hey, Kwan, what’s up?”

Kwan dubiously lifted a brow at his leader’s shifty behavior. “I heard you screaming like a girl.”

Jinu flushed at the reminder, “I saw a spider…” He admitted quietly.

Kwan snorted, teasingly pushing at his shoulder, “Dude, seriously?”

“It was big!” Jinu defended himself, “And I was working on the song so I didn’t notice it until it was two inches from me!”

Kwan just shook his head in amusement, “Do you need me to get it for you?”

“Nah, Derpy ate it,” Jinu fibbed. The two boys grimaced at the mental image of the cat eating a spider.

“Okay, well I’m heading to bed,” Kwan dismissed himself.

“Kay, night man,” Jinu waved him off.

“Night.”

Jinu shut the door with a sigh of relief, leaning his head against the door as he took a second to calm down. Then he went to the closet to let you out, only to pause when he opened the door. You were sitting on the ground with one of the containers from his shelf next to you, your phone flashing as you took Arson’s picture. The demonic canine was wearing one of Derpy’s crochet mushroom hats. It was too small for the dog but it was still absolutely adorable. Your delighted giggles were quiet and your smile was illuminated by the light of your phone screen.

It was endearing. Cute. Adorable even—and he didn’t mean Arson.

Jinu couldn’t help but smirk fondly and cross his arms, leaning against the doorframe, “Having fun?”

You nodded without looking at him, switching hats so you could take more pictures of Arson, “Yup.”

Jinu chuckled and shook his head, “Come on, you should go before one of the guys catches you here.” He ignored your little whine and pouty lips as he put the hats away and slid the container back into place on his shelf.

Despite your whining, you still stood with a little huff, “Fine. But I will be back for more tiny hats.”

“Sure,” Jinu agreed easily enough and walked you to the balcony, scratching Arson’s head in goodbye.

“Bye Jinu,” You waved with a smile.

He waved back, “Bye (Y/n).” Jinu watched you teleport away and Arson leapt from the balcony, Sprite flying off as well. He slid the balcony closed slowly, pulling the curtains shut once he did.

It was strange how normal he felt with you. His whole life revolved around hunting demons, sealing the Honmoon, and being an idol. But, with you he somehow felt like just another guy.

Sussie chirped and he looked at the bird. Sussie gave him a judging look.

“What?”

Sussie sighed.

~~~

The next time the awards rolled around, the Saja Boys ended up winning as most listened to that week thanks to their new song, ‘Stay Gold.’ As they were given flowers, the four of you clapped with smiles while the boys looked at you smugly. You girls remained unbothered though.

You finally got your chance to talk with the maknae of the boy group when the man left the Tower on his own for once and made his way into the city in disguise. He ducked into a grocery store and you followed him in, the maknae making a B-line straight to the snack and candy aisle.

You wandered past him casually, looking at all the different candies and snacks that you had no idea what they were. You grabbed a bag of rosé topokki chips. He was looking at spicy candies. “Those can’t be good,” You couldn’t help but remark.

Baby looked at you, surprised at your presence. But then he shrugged and went back to deliberating spicy candies. “I like it.”

You shrugged as well, going back to looking at the shelf full of candy for something sweet next. “To each their own.”

The two of you stood there, quietly for a long moment. You kept glancing at each other. “Any recommendations for something sweet but simple?” You eventually asked him, lost in all the flavors and brands.

He sighed like you asked him to do the most difficult thing in the world. He scanned over the options for a second before grabbing some chocolate, “Here.” He tossed it to you and you barely caught it, your heart stuttering at the sudden panic that you would drop it. He chuckled and finally made his own choice, putting one of the bags of candy back. He grabbed a drink, pointedly avoiding the Saja Boys themed soda just in the other cooler. The two of you quietly went to check out.

Jum didn’t have a lot of thoughts about you. You were very human but some moments reminded him that you were a demon. Like, struggling to choose what to get out of a sea of modern flavors. But he couldn’t get that look out of his head. When you had given up fighting them at the bathhouse or when he had asked you why you gave up when you asked them to meet you.

The two of you found a quiet spot to eat your snacks. He chuckled when he heard you hum when you first tried your chocolate. It seemed like you liked it. “We’re writing a song,” He found himself blurting out. “About demons.”

“Oh,” was all you could respond with, chewing slower. “Can’t imagine it’s a very nice song.”

Baby snorted, “It’s not. I can’t say I’m very happy about it.”

You looked over at him in surprise, “Why not?” You asked curiously.

He shrugged, “I worked hard on ‘Stay gold,’ we all did. It’s a song meant to bring us closer together and to our fans but…” he trailed off, shrugging again. “And I work hard on my rapping, our lyrics and a lot of it gets censored or shut down by production because it doesn’t ’fit the image.’” Baby rolled his eyes, citing words it seemed like he had heard a million times over. “The trainers’ idea.”

“I get it,” You told him. He turned his head to look at you dubiously, “I do. I understand some of how you feel. You gotta play a part, a role you don’t like or really fit but you still have to play it.”

Baby was quiet for a moment, just looking at you. Observing and analyzing your expression for a sign that you were lying. But you weren’t. So he nodded, “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Can I call you Jum…?” You slowly asked him, fidgeting with the wrapper in your hands. With the other guys, they had given their names to use, but with Baby, after what he had just told you, it didn’t feel right to refer to him as the role he didn’t like to play.

His lips twitched up into a smile, “Yeah. Just when we’re alone though.”

You jokingly rolled your eyes, “Obviously.”

He snorted fondly, “Obviously.”

The two of you continued to eat your snacks contently.

~~~

That night, you ended up staring up at the ceiling above your bed for a long while, mindlessly running your fingers through Arson’s fur.

You were doing good. You were getting closer to the boys like you had been told to do. You were one step closer to finishing this and forgetting all the memories that still gripped your heart like barbed wire. But… there was a growing sense of wrongness.

It was hard to hear yourself think over the quiet hiss of old memories and whispers of Gwi Ma’s voice. However, with the boys, the volume became quieter, duller and easier to ignore somehow.

You felt like you were going crazy.

You couldn’t let your mind linger on them like this, not when the next step of the girls’ plan was coming up. The Saja Boys were having their first fan event in a while soon and you all planned to crash it and take it over. You had to be ready to see all of them at once, to watch for the little cracks in their group so you could split them open when the time came.

You ignored the twisting in your chest.

A/N: When Kwan says that you must’ve looked gorgeous before your patterns, he’s not trying to be an asshole, he’s just thinking in the context that you must’ve grown up in where society wouldn’t have accepting any ‘deformities’ like the patterns. If that makes sense…?

Outtakes:

…

Bobby: “So what’ve you guys been up to lately?”

Hyeon: *Spending time with you*

Kwan: *Spending time with you*

Chungae: *Spending time with you*

Jinu: *Spending time with you*

Jum: *Spending time with you*

Saja Boys: …

Saja Boys: “Nothing much.” “Boring stuff.” “Gym.” “Sleeping.” “Song stuff.”

…

Zoey: “Hey, should we be doing our jobs and trying to get closer to the boys?”

You: *Emotionally conflicted, struggling, juggling five men*

Polytr/x: *cuddling on the couch watching romcoms*

Polytr/x: “Nah, it’s fine.”

…

Saja Boys: *side eyeing each other while contemplating sharing that they’ve been spending time with you but don’t want to admit they have for fear of being yelled at for not killing a demon*

You: *narrowing your eyes at the idiots* “Guys. Communication.”

…

Tag List: @jaybbygrl @aurorab-0-realis @minthoneynbasil @thatonegrimm @n0tbelle @reverie-sxno @gremlinartstudio @littlepotaaatosimp @mvskedxrtist @lluxentzz @closehereyes @lyunsafebubble @ashleygryffindor @whimsiecat @towfuu1 @thesimpbella @fries11 @lov3ly-3m @teenyfinds @arieslucy @boldlyenchantingfox22 @mel3484 @lizzymizzy-blogg @fastleopard1521 @cultish-corner @kitkatpattywack2808 @tsukimoon-chan @alleakimlala @yandereobsession @sherzzzzz @otherworldlover @hawarun @f1shst1xx @avadakadabra93 @moonthesleepyhead @sra7riddle-malfoy @beautifulpeoplebeautifulpr0blems @boo-shalala @venommie @magical-spit @neverending-animelove @nerdsconquerall @eli1412 @imjusthereforthecake @moochiwoochi @a-writer-with-anxiety @sexually-attracted-to-pans @katzline @uniquecutie-puffs @forgetfulsmols

[pinkpuppipawz]

DRUNK

°ᡣ𐭩 . Poly! Saja boys x GN! Reader

CONTENTS ꒱ ➜ Fluff, some suggestiveness, mentions of puking, Abby’s abs, reader eating a shit ton of chocolate, reader being a mess, the boys don’t know what to do (send help)

CREDITS ꒱ ➜ Saja Boys belong to KPOP Demon Hunters (Sony) on Netflix

AUTHORS NOTE ꒱ ➜ hiii! Sos I haven’t posted anything in seemingly years, I’ve been busy with life and such. Haven’t written in a while so may be a bit rusty. I have only been drunk once so this may not be accurate. Also this is my first time writing for Saja Boys! Planning on writing for them more in the future bc yes, feel free to request if desired!

You had promised them it would only be one small drink, and they decided to trust you. Never again are they doing that after what occurred tonight.

You were currently stuffing your face full of any chocolate you could get your hands on, seemingly in a trance of some sort. The boys didn’t know if they should stop you or just leave it.

Jinu tried, key word tried, to stop you from indulging too much just in case you threw up later, only for you to turn around, give him the nastiest glare you could muster in your not so sober state whilst growling like a dog.

Mystery may or may have not found that kind of hot, and may or may have not had to go to the bathroom real quick to get rid of his problem.

Abby tried distracting you with his abs, to see if you would just maybe turn away from the chocolate for enough time for the others to snatch them from you. Nope! Did not work, for once. Abby felt his ego deflate like a balloon, muttering something along the lines of ‘my abs have failed me for the first time in my life’.

The boys were lost at this point, they didn’t want to make you cross yet they didn’t want you to be sick later, plus Baby didn’t want all of his snacks to be gone (he didn’t want to go to the shops bc he’s lowkey lazy). At this point they had tried everything, or so they thought.

Out of the blue (pun intended), Derpy appeared from the floor, his eyes unfocused per usual. The bird was sitting atop his head, donning the usual hat that he stole all the time.

In the blink of an eye, you practically rugby tackled the tiger, causing him to slightly budge a bit from the sudden force. ‘Oh my god you are so CUTE!!!! Why are you so cute???’ You cried out, petting the tiger all over whilst cooing a bunch of unintelligible words that probably didn’t even exist.

The boys sighed in relief. Finally! Something to distract you from finishing all their chocolate in one sitting. They are never letting you drink again. (Not without someone to supervise you whilst you do so).

BONUS

Baby and Romance spent the night with you on the couch, as you were too stubborn to haul yourself to bed or let them carry you, so you all agreed to compromise. When asked why you didn’t want to go to bed with the others, you claimed that you wanted to pat the squishy kitty all night long. Only to end up falling asleep on top of Derpy not long after, with the blue tiger seemingly purring in content at the affection. The boys may or may have not taken a bunch of pictures at the sight.

© Content belongs to @ pinkpuppipawz, do NOT re-post my work on any other social media platforms (I only post on tumblr)

[thirteenheavens]

AAAAAA BEEN MISSING UUUU and also missing dk so much, can i req dk smut with oral (me receiving) n somno because he feels guilty for being busy n away for too long 🥲 thank u

You’re too irresistible|| Lee Dokyeom

Word count: 800

Notes: so glad to be back hopefully I can finally get in the swing this time :)

Dokyeom quietly enters the apartment, his eyes immediately landing on your sleeping form. He smiles softly, relieved to finally be home after a long day of work. He tiptoes over to the bed and sits down beside you, admiring how peaceful you look in your sleep. Dokyeom gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch feather-light.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I've missed you so much." He watches you for a moment longer, his eyes roaming over your body. The sight of you lying there, defenseless and vulnerable, stirs something primal within him. Dokyeom sighs softly, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest. He knows how often he's been coming home late, leaving you alone and waiting for him.

"I hate that I can't be here more," he mutters to himself, gently stroking your cheek. "But I promise I'll make it up to you." He carefully moves down the bed, positioning himself between your legs. Dokyeom knows he shouldn't do this while you're asleep, but the temptation is too strong. Dokyeom's eyes widen as he notices the wetness seeping through your panties. He licks his lips, his desire growing even stronger.

"Looks like you've been having naughty dreams," he whispers, his fingers tracing the outline of your pussy through the fabric. "I wonder what you're dreaming about." Dokyeom slowly pulls your panties to the side, exposing your glistening folds. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, and lets out a low groan.

"You smell so good," he murmurs, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. "I can't resist you, even when you're asleep." He leans in closer, his tongue darting out to taste you. Dokyeom begins licking and sucking on your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. Your body responds to his touch, even in your sleep. Dokyeom can feel you getting wetter and wetter, your thighs trembling slightly.

"That's it, baby," he mumbles against your pussy. "Cum for me, even if you're not fully awake." He slides two fingers inside you, curling them to hit your g-spot as he continues to work your clit with his tongue. Dokyeom is determined to make you feel good, even if he knows it's wrong. Dokyeom's fingers pump in and out of you at a steady pace, his tongue swirling around your clit with expert precision. He can feel you getting closer to the edge, your walls tightening around his fingers.

"You're so close," he pants, his own arousal evident in his voice. "I can feel it. Cum for me, my love." He sucks harder on your clit, his fingers pressing firmly against your g-spot. Dokyeom wants to feel you fall apart on his tongue, even if you're not consciously aware of it. Your body tenses up as you approach your climax, your breathing becoming heavier. Dokyeom can sense that you're about to cum, and he doubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync.

"That's it, cum for me," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "Let go, baby. I've got you."

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, Dokyeom sends you over the edge. Your pussy clenches around his fingers as you cum, your juices coating his tongue. Dokyeom groans as he tastes your release, lapping up every drop of your essence. He doesn't stop until you're completely spent, your body limp and relaxed on the bed.

"Good girl," he praises, gently pulling his fingers out of you and wiping his mouth. "You taste so sweet, even when you're asleep." He carefully adjusts your panties back into place and pulls the covers over you, making sure you're comfortable. Dokyeom watches you for a moment longer, a mixture of guilt and satisfaction on his face. Dokyeom leans down and kisses your forehead again, his lips lingering there for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, even though you can't hear him. "But I couldn't help myself. You're just too irresistible." He stands up and heads to the bathroom to clean himself up, his mind still reeling from what he just did. Dokyeom knows he shouldn't have done it, but he can't deny how much he enjoyed it.

[levshany]

Feel free to ignore this ask if it makes you uncomfortable. I've gone through all your posts of Belos/Philip and I really like the way you draw and write him. In the process I have also begun to think of him in a more lighthearted characteristic, with ideas of my own about him. However during most of my time as an owl house fan I've held great dislike towards him because of his actions as a villain, and now I find it hard to reconcile my predisposed idea of him as an evil emperor with my newfound perspective of seeing him as a funny weirdo grandpa.

I really want to be able to enjoy and maybe even create something out of my newfound liking for Philip, but it just isn't working and I would hope you could provide some insight or advice. I would like to be clear I don't think you are amoral in any way for characterizing Philip the way you do, I'm just trying to get to the same wavelength you are.

I was going to answer this ask the moment I received it, but this question turned out to be more complicated than I initially thought, so I spent a few days thinking about it

You see, the attitude I developed toward Philip is the result of several events that happened to align perfectly. It’s a pretty personal story, but in short: I watched the first season of TOH spontaneously, and I didn’t feel anything toward Belos until he showed his face and started talking about how he missed home. That was the moment I started liking him because he reminded me of Goodwin

Then the third season happened, which traumatized me with its treatment of Philip. I went to read fanfics and met two girls who shared my opinion about Philip and the ending, and who later became my gfs and co-writers. We bonded over our hatred for the original show, and by throwing ideas at each other about aus and stories, we fed our shared hyperfixation. It started to feel like we understood this character better than anyone else, which makes sense because, due to the huge number of plot holes, unanswered questions in the series, and moments we simply disagreed with, Philip became about 70% our own oc in our hands. And because of the colossal amount of effort and attention we poured into him, our feelings toward him became almost parental

In the end, it all became this nuclear mix of sympathy, immense effort to refine and rework the character, personal trauma that turned Philip into my fav. And now I’m sitting here, trying to figure out how to condense this vision into a few takes...

I’ll try! Sorry for all the rambling - I’m finally getting to the point

So, here are some subjective takes on why Philip has "funny weirdo grandpa potential"! remember that this isn’t about canon Philip (because he’s an asshole) and doesn’t imply any romanticization of toxic relationships, proship, or other crap. We’re talking about those qualities of Philip that, in an alternate universe, could’ve been the foundation for interesting and healthy interactions with other characters!

1. Philip enjoys spending time with kids 

It just so happened that in the show, the people Philip spends the most time with and genuinely enjoys talking to are kids - Hunter, Luz, and the Collector. Collie was Philip’s companion longer than all the grimwalkers combined. Hunter is, roughly speaking, the result of an attempt to cope with his trauma. And with Luz, Philip feels a kinship bc they’re both from Human Realm. The mere fact that all the emotionally significant people in Philip’s life are kids gives me a huge foundation to develop their relationships as a found family

2. A sneaky little cookie

Philip is a smart and sneaky cookie - he was smart enough to deceive the entire Boiling Isles, and he fools the kids more than once or twice. In my ideal world, where only ponies live, he could use his intelligence for harmless mischief - be a trickster who plays pranks on the kids, but in a friendly way! That’s what he does in Hamayun and Shadow House aus

3. The desire to be loved and to love, or found family therapy 

Continuing the theme of emotional connection with kids, Ludwig has a wonderful drabble called "Golden Family," where none of the grimwalkers betray Philip, but he just couldn’t stop at one golden head. He kept making more until there were about a hundred fluffy golden heads in the castle! And these grimwalkers, with their genuine love and desire for their uncle’s attention, became a form of therapy for Philip. As a child, he wished Caleb would pay more attention to him, and now he sublimates that into caring for his nephews. This therapy ultimately softens his personality and erases his hatred for witches! 

In "The Axe" (I feel like a scholar citing my own works and those of my colleagues), Philip creates Hunter because, despite Caleb being nearby, Philip isn’t satisfied with his company - the idealized image he built in his head during their separation shattered against the real Caleb, who was cold and bitter toward him. Philip needed unconditional love. He needed someone to love and live for. And he created Hunter so he wouldn’t hang himself in his own workshop (not so "funny weirdo grandpa" moment, yet very impactful)

4. Philip values family 

Just appreciate the fact that Philip went through literal hell (a world full of creatures he was told horror stories about as a child) to find his brother?? Isn’t that selfless??? Isn’t that a story about love and the importance of family??? Yes, it ended badly, BUT SOMEWHERE IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE, PHILIP COULD’VE SACRIFICED HIS OWN LIFE FOR HIS FAMILY, U KNOW?

5. He’s just cool. All kids (me (even if I’m not a kid)) want a cool grandpa like that 

Have you seen how Hunter looks at Philip? I just want the same thing, but without the toxicity - I’m not a big fan of spicy food, thanks

As you can see, my point is - Philip has a ton of qualities that, under different circumstances, could’ve made him that "weird but nice grandpa." Yes, many of them developed because of trauma, BUT YOU GET WHAT I MEAN. This whole text can be summed up as: "Philip could’ve been a funny weirdo grandpa if his life hadn’t gone to shit". he could have been a good person.. he could have been a hero. it's just- something went really wrong at some point

I really hope I managed to answer your question - thanks for asking it! I had a lot of fun thinking about this topic and responding to it >< good luck with your art and ideas!!✨💕

[pantiesandpamperssissypart2]

"Diaper butt." Those were now the two most important words in Kevin's vocabulary.

In fact they now defined his existence, at least in the town of 10,000 where he'd taught community college English for the past five years. Well, on the internet too, but that only meant another, what, 5 billion people or whatever?

He'd been SO good at hiding his perverted desires from everyone in his life and in the town. Sure, at home he liked to tape himself into his Pampers and jerk off into them, but no one knew about that. He told folks he was just looking for the right gal to meet, not that he had a one-inch clit that could only shoot sissy shampoo when encased in crinkly diapers. And the one time he went to a professional domme he drove eight hours away. Made sure to maintain his anonymity.

And then, one weekend, when he had to finally indulge his need for some public humiliation, he made sure to drive to a mall a whole four hours away where absolutely no one would know him. He had on his thick diapers and tight leggings and posed for some pictures outside his car in the parking lot.

Then he really got brave and worked up the guts to waddle into the big mall in the city. He then got exactly what he desired: snickers, smirks, smiles, outright laughter and a few verbal taunts like, "Fucking diapers," and "Your Pampers are full."

But it was the folks who didn't see who were the most important people in the mall that day. How was Kevin supposed to know that Kristen Johnson and Alicia Berry, two sophomores in his English class, both of them loud-mouth, arrogant party-girls, had taken that weekend to visit Kristen's cousin in that very same town four hours away. They'd spent the weekend partying at the four-year college in town and before heading back home had hit the local mall.

That's where, as they ate in the food court, they saw...Mr. Jensen? Their English prof? Wait...is that him? It is! Oh my god! And is he...wearing diapers?! Yes, look at that diaper butt. Holy shit! Holy shit. They secretly followed and recorded him waddling around. They recorded people reacting to him. They recorded him adjusting his shirt to make the diapers even more fucking obvious. When he started walking toward them they avoided his glance and recorded his diaper crotch as well. What in the actual fuck. For 20 minutes they recorded this diaper faggot waddling around and then followed him out to his car and watched him drive off. Of all the things.

The next day in class neither could contain their laughter. They'd talked for about 24 hours straight about what to do with the video and the knowledge. Kristen, a bit more evil of the two, suggested blackmailing him. But eventually they decided that everyone needed to know about the diaper-wearing weirdo in the town. First they’d have some fun.

When they walked in together with Kevin clearing the chalkboard Kristen said loudly, “God why does it smell like a fucking diaper in here? Who filled their pants?” Alicia laughed while Kevin stopped writing. No way they knew. Maybe someone had farted before the two walked in. Ten minutes into class Kevin asked a question and Kristen raised her hand to say, "Well, Kevin, I think..." and Kevin stupidly interrupted to say, "Um it's Professor Jensen, Kristen. You remember."

"Oh," she replied, acting confused. "Okay, if you don't want me to call you Kevin I can call you by your real name. Professor Diaper Butt."

Alicia burst out laughing while the rest of the class was confused. Kevin stared slack-jawed. Seconds later Kristen uploaded a YouTube link to the class's Slack channel. "Kevin Jensen, aka Professor Diaper Butt, walks around in Pampers."

There it was. A 20-minute clip of Kevin waddling around in his thick, humiliating diapers, exposing himself, humiliating himself. Soon enough the class erupted in laughter and "holy fucks." Kevin checked the Slack group. Watched three seconds. He heard the calls of "Diaper Butt" from other students

Soon enough they'd tell their friends about Professor Diaper Butt. The administration would know. The townsfolk would know. The internet would know. Everyone would know about his diaper butt. His defining feature. The only thing that now mattered for a diaper butt faggot who'd gotten exactly the humiliation he thought he wanted...right up until he didn't.

[pascaloverx]

FRIENDS

Summary: You, Theo, and Guy grew up together. Over time, your feelings for Theo changed, but he only ever saw you as a friend. One night, after some wine, he suggested you should marry — out of pity, not love. Unwilling to accept that, you left England for nearly two years. Now you've returned. Can your friendship with Theo survive? Or will something more finally bloom between you?

Author’s Note: I’m not sure if this fanfic will have multiple chapters, that depends on how readers engage with it. But I truly hope that those who love Theo will read and enjoy this story.

ONE

A memorable night for your return. It had to be — an unforgettable evening. You try to steady your breath, but every time your eyes close, memories of Theo flood your mind. The way he taught you to ride when you could barely stay upright on a horse. The nights spent speaking of distant lands and wild adventures you might one day embark upon. But privacy was never afforded to you for long. Society would not allow it — always quick to judge, to assume he was taking advantage of you. And Theo would never dare. There was too much respect… and affection. A friend’s love, never anything more.

“You’re far too quiet. Soon we’ll be surrounded by potential suitors — you ought to practise being agreeable,” your mother remarks sharply, eyeing you from across the carriage. Forcing a hollow smile in her direction, you return to reality.

“I shall behave as the daughter you raised me to be,” you reply with a touch of cynicism, your thoughts drifting to how deeply your father’s presence is missed. He had supported your longing to explore the world rather than chase after marriage. But the moment he passed, your mother packed your trunks and ordered your return to London.

Returning, in itself, is already distressing. To now be expected to appear desirable to eligible suitors feels nearly unbearable. But nothing compares to the weight of knowing you’ll soon face Theo — not after the way things ended.

You left without a single word, after refusing his proposal. If only your mother knew the Duke of Tintagel had once asked for your hand…

“We’ve arrived!” your mother announces the moment the carriage comes to a stop. You glance outside and see a crowd pouring into Tintagel Castle — the very place where Theo resides, and where you last saw him.

“Conduct yourself properly tonight, and you’ll leave this ball with more suitors than you can count,” she says, fussing over you, smoothing your hair and adjusting your gown. She wants to be certain that you look precisely as a proper young lady should.

You step out of the carriage in silence, knowing that nothing you say will make the slightest difference. As you walk, you find yourself quietly wishing something, anything, might happen to free you from this place. Moving toward the elegant crowd entering the ball hosted by Theo’s mother, you hear a familiar voice.

“Well, look who we have here,” Guy Thwarte says, making his way toward you the moment you cross the threshold.

“Mr. Thwarte, I do hope you’ve missed me,” you reply, greeting him formally while feigning a genuine respect for society’s expectations. He chuckles, clearly amused.

“Miss, I’d say I was the gentleman who missed you most — if we both didn’t know the Duke likely felt your absence more,” Guy remarks with a sly smile. At once, the weight of seeing Theo again settles heavily upon your shoulders.

“He likely has no wish to be in my company,” you reply softly, aware that Theo may not want to see you at all. Perhaps you should have left a letter, some explanation for your sudden departure.

But how does one confess to their dearest friend that they ran away because he proposed out of pity and because they were hopelessly in love with him?

Or that your father had fallen ill and required treatment abroad, and made you swear to keep it secret?

None of it, you knew, could be written plainly in a letter, not without sounding either foolish or unforgivably dramatic.

“Do not speak falsehoods, my dear friend. Our gracious duke has waited for you all this time,” Guy says as he gently pulls you into the throng of ladies and gentlemen preparing to dance.

For a fleeting moment, you nearly forget that you could have refused — that you still might have avoided what was to come.

“And how can you speak with such confidence about something you cannot possibly know, Guy?” you reply, turning your back to him and readying yourself for the dance that is soon to begin.

The music swells, and as Guy approaches to take your hand, he leans in and murmurs, “Something tells me we’ll have our answer soon enough, my dearest Y/N.”

His gaze shifts behind you, and instinctively, you turn to see what caught his eye. There he is — Theo. And at his side, a striking young woman, smiling up at him. Your heart falters the instant your eyes meet Theo’s. Where he had just been laughing, his expression now hardens.

You miss a step in the dance, stumbling slightly. Guy catches you before you fall, but the motion draws curious glances from those nearby.

It feels as though every eye is upon you, from the moment Guy caught your fall to the moment you rose again and struggled to regain the rhythm of the dance.

“Shall we step away?” Guy murmurs, as the two of you begin to move more closely together, though always maintaining a respectful distance. He has been your friend for far too long to invite gossip, and yet, you are well aware that in the eyes of society and your mother even the faintest familiarity can be easily transformed into the illusion of romance.

There is, perhaps, a quiet irony in the fact that you have always regarded Guy as a brother, while your heart continues to long for Theo. Both men were raised beside you, both know you intimately, yet only one ever truly claimed your affection.

“No,” you reply softly, steadying your breath. “That would only draw unnecessary attention. Though I do believe it is time we change partners.”

Guy offers a brief nod, then silently shifts his posture, placing himself between you and the gathering crowd, ensuring that you are spared the sight of Theo and the beautiful woman who stands beside him.

Of course, you had considered the possibility that he might fall in love during your absence — why wouldn’t he?

He has no idea that your heart has belonged to him for years.

“If you need a friend, I’ll be the gentleman by the wine,” Guy says gently, his voice laced with genuine care. The music then fades.

The moment to change partners arrives with such suddenness that you have no time to think, no time to prepare. In the space of a breath, you find yourself standing before the man who was once your closest friend — perhaps your forever-unrequited love. Theo. He should not be here, and yet, he is.

He places his hands upon you with a familiar ease that nearly undoes your composure, guiding you seamlessly into the next dance, while you struggle to process the nearness of him after so long.

“I suppose you thought you could avoid me at my own ball,” Theo whispers, his voice low and smooth, the warmth of his breath near your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

"If I had any intention of avoiding you, Duke, you may rest assured it would not be difficult, for just moments ago, you appeared rather preoccupied." You resist the urge to mention the striking young lady who had accompanied him — it would be far too bold, and besides, whomever Theo chooses to involve himself with is not, and never will be, any of your concern.

He gazes at you with a familiar sharpness, then leans in slightly, his voice low and laced with quiet provocation as he replies, “You’ve gone to great lengths to avoid me, that much is clear. We both know that a simple conversation with me might compel you to flee to another continent like a frightened child, so I shall do my best not to startle you.”

His hand tightens around your waist, pulling you nearer. His body presses against yours as you move across the ballroom, surrounded by other couples spinning and stepping in practiced rhythm.

“And are you holding me this tightly because you fear I might run from you…” you say daringly, meeting his gaze as you try to pull back — just slightly — “…or because you’ve missed me, Theo?”

You attempt to put some distance between your bodies, just enough to steady your breath, but not enough to disrupt the rhythm of the dance. He does not release you, not entirely and for a brief moment, the world around you blurs into music, candlelight, and the silent weight of everything left unsaid.

“You will not escape me this time, Y/N.” Theo steps into the library, his presence sudden and commanding, the tension in his features betraying a touch of irritation.

“I am not trying to escape you,” you reply, your tone measured, though you keep a cautious distance between you. “At least not at this moment.”

He closes the door behind him and turns the key in the lock, his gaze never leaving yours. Slowly, he begins to approach, one deliberate step after another.

“Then you admit there was a time when you wished to escape me?” His voice carries a subtle challenge, as though daring you to confess something left long unsaid.

“I admit no such thing,” you respond, your voice calm but firm. “What I do acknowledge is that if we remain here much longer, whispers will begin, and we shall be—”

You falter, losing the thread of your thought as his eyes, clear and impossibly blue, hold yours with quiet intensity.

“Obliged to marry?” he finishes for you, his words cool and tinged with irony. “That would be your worst nightmare, would it not? Enough to make you disappear from the face of the earth. I would never allow you to be condemned to such a fate.”

There is something in his expression — not quite cruelty, but a deliberate reminder of the last time you were this close. The memory of a proposal offered without love still lingers.

“If you think I might take offense, let me assure you I am grateful,” you answer, stepping forward until you stand directly before him. “I never intended to marry out of pity.”

For a brief moment, silence settles between you. His eyes linger, studying your face — and just for an instant, you think he glances at your lips. Or perhaps it is merely your imagination.

"Nor did I, Miss Y/L/N. Never, in all my life, have I desired or intended a marriage born of pity," Theo replies, his gaze locking with yours in a way that seems to capture your very soul.

He takes a step closer, then reaches out, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face with quiet intention. In that moment, it is as if he has taken hold not only of your gaze, but of your thoughts — of your heart itself — claiming them as his own.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[flower-of-the-desert]

I finished this bad boy 🤗👇 the other day and as per usual I have MANY feelings about it. Spoilers under the cut of course. But before that can I just to say one more time THIS COVER IS SOOOO GORGEOUS LANZHOU MY MOST BEAUTIFUL DEADLY PRINCESS!!!

I need to know what kind of drugs was t97 putting in this novel while writing it because it is soooo addicting I'm not even kidding. I'm not a fast reader by any means but each volume of qjj so far I've read in like a week tops. And like considering the fact that most of my day is spent at work and other house chores I'm mind-blowed at myself lmfao.

I just. I love loooooveee the progression of the story and the characters. I dont find the politics part hard to follow especially when there is always a point where someone explains clearly what is happening at the current moment (like at the end of this vol when Yao Wenyu laid out Lanzhou's whole plan clearly) so it makes it quite satisfying to follow along. If there is something I hadn't understood before, these sort of check-in moments are very helpful.

I love how we're moving along all over the empire along with the characters. Like we started only in Qudu like they were. Now we're in Cizhou and the other surrounding cities as Lanzhou works to take control of them while Libei is getting more and more spot lights as XCY returns there. If the cover of vol 5 is any indication next vol we're gonna spend some time in Qidong too? I love how this makes the world of the story feel so expansive and lived in. And how we're following all these different characters as they go on their journeys and how their paths are connected at certain points.

Speaking of connected paths tho. Cezhou?? CEZHOU!!!!!!!! oh my god when I tell you I'm obsessed with them. They're literally giving me everything I've ever wanted in a couple and I'm going a little insane ngl. I dont even know what to say to describe my feelings and thoughts other than feral animal noises. Seeing them continue to deepen their relationship is soooo good. The mutual understand that keeps growing between them, how they can understand each other's intentions without a single look or word - when XCY sent that milk back from Libei and Lanzhou understood immediately what he was trying to say or when XCY reads Lanzhou like a book even tho Lanzhou is still skittish and trying to hide the depth of his feelings and thoughts from him... so. fucking. good.

Dare I say their sex scenes are THE best smut I've read in danmei so far klsjdskj. Granted, I havent read like THAT many novels yet but I don't think I'll be able to find another novel with sex that is THE DEFINITION of tenderhorny smut that would make the best AO3 writers proud. It's got feelings, it's got character traits, it's got horny through the roof, it's got sensuality and kinks and desire, it's got everything. XCY's insane possessiveness and need to be as close to Lanzhou as humanly possible, Lanzhou's seductiveness and coy tactics when he wants to distract XCY but also ALSO!!!!

I adore the fact that Lanzhou takes and controls his sexuality as much as XCY. Like you can see without a doubt that he also feels the same way about XCY, he wants him, he gets horny for his man, he wants to be fucked by him and even more than once, he's the one edging XCY to keep going because Lanzhou is also as much in love and in lust with this man as XCY is with him and I just fucking love how that is freely expressed in the text. Lanzhou isn't just laying there going "well if you must 🙄🙄" which is kind of the vibe I used to get from a lot of other bottoms in bls. Makes cezhou soooo unbelievably hot to me.

And no end that part pf the chapter with them so so reluctant to part. Lanzhou clinging to him so tightly and XCY "had never found standing up so difficult before" - they're so needy for each other. Absolutely perfect.

I need to give a shout out to XCY again - that man is so HNNGGG I FUCKING LOVE HIM SO MUCH. When he kowtowed to shifu to apologize for hurting Lanzhou in the past and promising to take care of him always and forever, the way I had to put the book down for a moment pls. When he begged shifu to look after Lanzhou and just to scold him a little if Lanzhou gets hurt again and then if he must, to whip XCY instead?? like sir!! he adores Lanzhou so much, he can't bare a single moment of pain to be inflicted on him and he will not allow it. The other thing I really love is how his character arc is shaping up in regards to Libei and his family. I love that he loves his brother and father so much but he is also not without his own ambitions and he is prepared to fight them for the throne in Libei and come out as the new alpha. Him being given the lowest position in the army right now makes me so excited for the next vol when he's gonna keep fighting his way to the top.

Idk if I've said this before but I looove all the supporting characters. They're so fun and interesting and I can't believe how quickly I got attached to them. Like the way shifu and the kids love Lanzhou so much, the way he takes care of them, the way Qiao Tianya teases him and looks after him like a little brother (after Lanzhou lost his big brother! 😭) - it's all so precious. If any of them dies, you're gonna hear my crying from half the world away ngl.

Speaking of Qiao Tianya ok, that man is so damn sexy and I gotta say the way the gang found Yao Wenyu at the end in the state he was in (ouchie 😭😭) and Qiao Tianya's thoughts on it gagged me. I'm vibrating so hard in anticipation of how these two are gonna interact from now on, I know this ship will bring me pain but I'm here for it.

ALSO ALSO LASTLY BUT NOT LEAST, the way the tragic old men yaoi in this vol came out and kicked me in the teeth and left me screaming in my friend's DMs was iconic tbh. QJJ really has everything you could ask for - old men yaoi, young men yaoi, doomed yaoi, happy yaoi, lesbians, found family, adorable animals, FROGS, XCY being the angry wife with the kneeling husband meme. Cannot wait for the next volumes pls I need to inject this novel in my veins.

[historybunnny]

It was 1814 when Luigi enlisted in the war, but he knew telling Amma would be harder than any amount of bloodshed waiting for him at the borderlines.

"Why?! Why would you do this?" She yelled, slamming her fists hard against his chest.

He sighed, not moving an inch to defend himself from the blow. "Amma, I've told you. My mother and I need the money." He said patiently.

She lowered her head, unable to meet his gaze. "My uncle was right." She said, thinking back on the argument between her father and her uncle just two years before. "There is no honor in war."

It was at that moment she remembered Luigi's puzzled expression during the argument. Once she realized this was a fight she would never win, she turned on her heel to leave.

"Amma, don't-" Luigi pleaded, reaching out for her. "Please don't leave like this."

For a moment, her eyes faltered, revealing the emotions she was trying to hide behind her anger. But her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at his face, searching for any hint of returned fury. She found only tenderness, which only vexed her further.

He tried to brush his fingers against her cheek, to soothe her with his gentle touch and to plead with reason once more. When it didn't work, he could do only what had worked in the past.

He pressed his mouth against hers, hesitating for any sign of resistance from her. She only relaxed into him, sighing against his lips.

They fell into the grass, onto the blanket they'd spent many nights on. But they'd never kissed each other quite like this before. Every movement was driven by fever to be closer, though somehow it still didn't feel like enough.

"We don't have to." Luigi whispered, suddenly self conscious over his desires.

She bit her lip hesitantly, trying to think of any reason not to. Refusing to believe she was powerless against Luigi's giant chestnut colored eyes looking down at her, she told herself it was the hum of the cicadas from being able to think straight. All she could focus on was the thought that tomorrow he was leaving and the possibility that she could never see him again.

"I want to." She finally said, a tantalizing grin pulling at the corner of her lips. And there in their meadow, they made love for the first time. 

[accidentalmistress]

Snzfic - Sparks Between Brothers

[I wrote this for a prompt exchange that was originally due on Valentine's Day, so I'm really sorry about it being five months late 😅 But better late than never?]

A few months after first meeting the tall, sneezy nerd who works in the same office as she does, Lynette Sparks has cultured something of a friendship with the awkward guy. In fact, now Zayne even wants to introduce her to his brother...

Word count: 3,910

Content and warnings: male snz (allergy)

--------------------

Despite being employed on the same university campus, Zayne Reynolds rarely frequented the place where his brother worked. As a research immunologist, Zayne spent much of his time either in the lab or in his office. His half brother, on the other hand, worked in Special Collections and was steward to a wide array of old manuscripts, records, archives, rare books, and even musical scores and comics.

All of those old books and papers, however, meant that the stacks were perpetually inundated with one of Zayne's worst allergy triggers: dust. Any time Zayne even attempted to visit his brother's workplace he’d barely set foot inside before his nose would start to run, then his eyes would itch, and it wasn't long after that when the sneezing would start.

“At this point he's all but banned me from the place.” Zayne fiddled with the buttons of a fidget cube with a rhythmic clicking as he reclined in his desk chair. “He says it's for my own good, but… I think it might also be the noise. It's, um, hard for me to stifle when it comes to dust.”

Lynette, perched on the corner of his desk, nodded slowly.

“So that's why he's coming to meet us?”

“Mhm.”

She caught the hint of a flush in the tall scientist’s fair, freckled cheeks. So much for her suggestion to go check out the collection while they waited for Zayne's brother to finish his work. Not that she could really blame Zayne, of course. Lynette had witnessed his allergy attacks firsthand, and to say they were rough on the poor guy was an understatement.

“God, just thinking about going in there is making my nose i-itch,” he muttered, squashing his prominent nose between thumb and forefinger. “He’s lucky dust isn't one of his allergies… huh… hhp’kkt! Ugh, damn it.”

“Bless you,” Lynette offered as she watched him pinch his nose to stifle the small sneeze.

“Th-thank you…” Zayne's reply was little more than a flustered mumble behind a handkerchief he pulled from a pocket, though the cloth could not hide his deepening blush.

Lynette suppressed a smirk. She wasn’t sure why he was always so bashful when she blessed his sneezes, but it made her want to tease him more. She almost made another comment, but then something he had said caught her attention.

“Did you say ‘one of his allergies’? Does he have allergies like you do?”

“Oh, um… Not as bad as mine. I don't think. But yeah, I guess it runs in the family…” His voice dropped as he added, “Though I’m pretty sure I got the worst of it.”

“Hm?” Lynette tilted her head, as though she hadn’t heard every word.

“N-nothing, nothing. Uh, we could go to the front of the building and wait there, I guess. Better than just… hanging around here.”

Zayne's gaze flicked sheepishly aside, and Lynette followed it to a high shelf displaying some of his personal effects: a row of mecha robot figures, a model of a science fiction spaceship, a statue of an anime girl with long pigtails, and several other geeky knickknacks.

“I don't mind hanging out here for a while. I like your office.”

“B-but it's… dorky.”

This time Lynette didn't bother hiding her smirk.

“Well, maybe I like dorky.” She leaned closer until they were barely a foot apart. “Did you consider that?”

The way his entire face reddened was absolutely delicious and served to further fan the flames of her desire to tease him. So she stayed there, barely two hand spans away, getting the perfect view of his mouth moving as nothing came out but flustered stammering for several seconds.

“I-I-I wasn't sure,” he finally choked out. “I mean, I-I didn't want to, um, assume— Y-you know, not everyone is… into that kind of stuff…”

“You wound me.” Lynette placed a hand on her chest in mock indignation. “How long have we been hanging out at work now, and you still don't believe I'm actually into nerdy shit?”

“Um, it's been… t-two months, one week and, uh, three days.”

Lynette held back a snort. She hadn't expected him to actually be keeping track, let alone have the answer ready at a moment’s notice.

“Well, there you go. We've seen each other almost every day for over nine weeks, and you still don't believe me.”

“N-no, I believe you—!”

She knew that he did, of course, but she wasn't done having fun with him. Not when he was getting even redder by the moment.

“Do I need to prove it to you?” She cut him off and held out a hand to point towards the shelf, leaning ever so slightly closer as she reached past him. She singled out one of the mechs, a black and gray one. “That Gundam is Deathscythe from Mobile Suit Gundam Wing, though it looks like the design you have is from Endless Waltz.” Her hand then moved to indicate a spaceship shaped like an arrow head. “Next to that is a model of a Venator-class Star Destroyer, which was the Republic predecessor of the Galactic Empire’s Imperial-class Star Destroyer.”  Her pointing finger moved to the girl with pigtails. “And next to that… Well, I didn't initially peg you as a Hatsune Miku fan, but honestly? It makes sense in retrospect.”

Zayne's face was beet red by now, so, as the icing on the cake, as Lynette brought her hand back, she lifted his necktie and ran it gently through her fingers. Oh, but this was too much fun. He even dropped his handkerchief.

“So… How's that? Did I pass?”

Even if Zayne could have made any reply besides a breathy squeak, he didn't get the chance, because it was at that moment that the door to his office opened.

“Hey! I finished up a little early and—”

They both snapped their heads towards the door as a young man with chin-length brown hair stopped dead in the doorway. He regarded them with green eyes blinking owlishly behind his glasses, which Lynette noted were very similar to Zayne's round frames. That wasn't the only thing similar about him, actually, and Lynette had the sinking suspicion that this was—

“J-Jake! I- Th-this is—” Zayne stammered.

“Uh, am I… interrupting something?”

Belatedly, Lynette realized that she was still holding Zayne's tie, which she dropped as though it were made of hot lead.

“Oh, uh, no! No, no, I was just, uh… helping Zayne fix his tie.”

She hopped off his desk and smoothed her skirt, extending her hand as she approached Zayne's brother and tried not to act like her heart had taken residence in her throat and decided to turn it into a dance club.

“You must be Jakob! I'm Lynette Sparks.”

He didn't seem entirely convinced by her lame excuse for the slightly compromising position they'd been in, but he smiled and took her hand all the same.

“Hi there. Jakob Steiner. Pleasure to meet you.”

Lynette took the opportunity to glance him over. He was not nearly as tall as Zayne, but six and a half feet was hard to compete with. He did have the same slender build, though, and if she had to guess, Jakob was still six or so inches taller than Lynette’s own five-foot-three. His hair was a lighter shade of brown than his brother's, and, though it was of a similar length, Jakob seemed a touch more clean cut and well groomed. Another difference was that he did not have the same prominent aquiline nose that Zayne did. Rather, Jakob’s nose was just on the larger side of average with a slightly upturned tip.

The eyes, though. That was where the two men were most similar. They bore the same shape, and the color of Jakob’s, although completely different from Zayne's brilliant blue, was no less striking—a vibrant, almost yellow, green. The fact that they both wore round glasses highlighted the similarities even more.

Lynette realized she was staring and laughed nervously. “Uh, Zayne's told me a lot about you.”

Jakob quirked an eyebrow as a half smile tugged at his lips, and he glanced at his brother.

“Really? Because the first he mentioned anything about you was when he invited me along on this little excursion.”

“Oh, is that so?”

Now it was Lynette’s turn to raise an eyebrow as she, too, turned to look at Zayne, who anxiously shot to his feet. God, it still kind of threw her when he did that. One of these days she was going to tweak her neck from looking up so fast.

“Oh, come on, d-don't gang up on me! It never came up, and I couldn't figure out a way to bring it up organically in conversation, so… I mean, isn't that kind of the point of all this? So I could introduce you?”

Jakob laughed.

“Okay, okay! I was just teasing you. I'm glad that you want to introduce me to your friends, really.”

Something warm fluttered in Lynette’s chest at that. Zayne’s friend. Was that what she was? They were certainly more than just coworkers or acquaintances by now, and, well, she was even meeting his brother. True, it was mostly because they all worked in the same place, but still. It felt… special, somehow.

“So, where is this sushi place we’re going to?” Jakob asked, “Should we carpool, or…?”

Zayne stepped out from behind his desk to grab a jacket hanging on a coat tree. “Oh, it’s within walking distance, actually! I, um, thought it might be nice since it hasn’t been too chilly this week and the weather is nice today. Plus, y’know, winter is kinda the only time of year we can go outside without dying…”

“True,” Jakob agreed with a small chuckle, “Still, I think I’ll mask up anyway to be safe.”

He held up a mask he pulled from his coat pocket, and Zayne patted his own pockets with a nervous laugh.

“Oh. Right. A mask. I, um… I just need to go grab one from the lab.”

Jakob’s expression went flat.

“Don’t tell me you forgot one.”

“N-no, I just… don’t have one on me.”

“Zayne. You’re an immunologist. You of all people should—”

“I know! I know! And I usually do have one! I just… The one I was wearing earlier in the lab today, it got all, um… I-I had to throw it out, okay? I just haven’t replaced it yet. I’ll go grab one now.”

Jakob waved a hand and reached back into his pocket. “I have an extra you can have. Here. It’s unused.”

As Lynette watched their little exchange, she couldn’t help a little giggle that bubbled up.

Zayne looked at her askance. “What?”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… are you sure you’re the older brother?”

Jakob sighed and shook his head. “I ask myself the same thing constantly.”

Zayne rolled his eyes and headed for the still-open door. “Oh my God, can we just go, please?”

As they all walked down the sidewalk on their way to the restaurant, Zayne kept fiddling with the mask on his face and muttering.

“This thing… I can’t…”

Lynette looked up at him beside her. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. It’s just… I, um… I-I have a hard time getting some masks to fit.”

Jakob piped up from Zayne’s other side. “Really? I'm sorry about that. I’ve never had a problem with these, myself.”

“Well, you didn’t have to inherit the Reynolds nose. Your dad has a normal-sized nose.” Zayne pushed the mask up the bridge of his nose again and sniffled. “Ugh, maybe I should have gotten that nose job…”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Lynette thought. “I like your nose.”

She looked over and saw the look Zayne was giving her, eyes wide with a bright crimson flush coming to his cheeks again, and realized that what she’d intended as an internal thought had indeed come past her lips.

“Y-you… do?”

She turned her attention ahead, suddenly unable to look at him, her own cheeks warm. 

“Oh, uh… yeah. Is that weird?”

“No, no, I’m… uh… Thank you.”

Into the awkward pause that followed, Jakob said, “You two are cute.”

Zayne cringed. “Come on, Jake. Don’t make fun of us.”

“I’m not! You are cute. But if it bothers you, I’ll leave it at that.”

They walked a little longer in increasingly uncomfortable silence. Zayne’s sniffling grew more frequent and urgent, until Lynette heard his breath quietly hitch.

“heh’ktch! S-sorry, excuse me. It’s the m-mask, it’s rubbing my n-hehh-! hh’GKCH! my nose and m-making it ihhiihtchy- heh-NKTCH!”

Lynette heard Jakob sigh next to Zayne.

“Maybe you should take it off until we get to the restaurant. It seems like it’s doing more harm than good right now.”

“S-sorry,” Zayne mumbled as he unlooped the mask from his ears.

“No apologies necessary. I’m sorry I didn’t have one that fit you better.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t forgotten to replace mine—”

There was a bright jingle as the door of a shop flew open and a woman hurried out right in front of them. It all happened so quickly that Lynette didn’t even have time to call out a warning, with the woman about to collide with Zayne. Somehow, though, Jakob managed to interpose himself between them, reaching out to grab the woman’s arms to steady her as she realized her mistake and stopped short.

“Whoa, c-careful there.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright, as long as you’re okay.”

“Yes, I’m fine. God, I wasn't paying attention at all. It's just— I’m running late, and I was distracted by these.”

She hefted the large bouquet in her arms, a bouquet that was almost getting crushed against Jakob’s chest. He let go of her quickly, although he couldn’t really step back with Zayne right behind him, looking down at the bouquet a bit like it was some kind of venomous animal.

“Y-yes, well. It seems like they’re alright. No harm done.”

The woman nodded with a breathless chuckle. “Yeah, thankfully. So sorry again! I gotta run, though. Have a good night!”

She waved and hurried on, and Lynette looked up at the shop the woman had just bustled out of: a florist.

“Are you okay?” Zayne touched Jakob’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I-I know, but you took your mask off, and- a-and your allergies are worse than mine. If she had crashed into you with all those f-flowers, you would h-have—” He started to sniffle. “Y-you’d have had an allergy attack.”

“What about you?”

“I'm fine. I h-have my mask on.”

“You're obviously not fine! You're- y-you’re hh-hehh-hH'TNCHH!”

The taller man pitched forward with a harsh sounding stifle.

“Maybe we should have this conversation somewhere other than standing by the door of a flower shop?” Lynette suggested with a pointed look at the colorful blooms in the store windows.

Neither of the men replied, only nodded as they hurried away from the storefront, Zayne holding his nose to pinch another stifle. It wasn’t long, though, before Jakob paused and placed his hand on the wall of a building they were passing. As Lynette slowed next to him, she could hear his breath catch behind his mask.

“eh… heh… hhh’CHXT!-CHXT!-CHXT! Nhuh… Excuse me.”

Zayne rubbed his own nose and sniffed. “I knew it! It is getting to you.”

Jakob waved a hand. “Oh, stop. It was just a couple of sneezes. I’m f-fine… heh’eshht!”

“I d-don’t- don’t thi-hh- hehEHh! heh’chgt! hEH’TCHT! heh-cht!-tcht!-tch-TCHIEW! Oh c-crap- hehh-KCHT! eh’KNXTchiuhh! Oh God… now it’s getting to m-me- hhih-kddshh!!”

Jakob removed his mask, revealing the pinkness of his own nostrils as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to rub at the glistening wetness that clung to them.

“Ugh, my brotherly sacrifice, all for n-naught- hh’heh! eh’nxtch! hh’nxt! hEH’CHXT!”

Lynette looked back and forth between the two of them, feeling oddly warm. God, even their stifled sneezes sounded similar.

“Um, bless you both. A lot.”

Zayne nodded his thanks and sniffled wetly as he searched his pockets.

“It’d be even worse than this if you h-hadn’t stepped in, Jake. Besides: once you gehehht started, I… I usually get going t-too— HEH-tcchht! Guhh… Damn it, where is it?”

His brother sniffed. “Where’s wh-what? Hh’nxch!”

“My hh-handkerchief…”

The image of it fluttering to the ground in Zayne’s office when she’d been teasing him flashed through Lynette’s mind.

“Oh no… You dropped it back in your office.”

Zayne groaned.

“Aw crap… D-do either of you have a t-tissue or something?”

“Um, actually…” Lynette shifted her purse on her shoulder and reached inside. “I have a handkerchief you could borrow.”

She rifled around until her hand touched cloth, then drew out the handkerchief that she definitely was not going to admit she had purchased because of Zayne. He always carried one, and so when Lynette had seen the cloth with its bright yellow chrysanthemum print in a secondhand store, she couldn’t help but think of him.

“A-are you sure? It’s so p- hh- pretty… I don’t want to r-ruin it.”

She lifted it towards him insistently.

“Please, go ahead.”

He seemed to be reaching his limit of holding back the next wave of sneezing, so he nodded and took the cloth.

“Um, okay. Thank you s-so much.”

She nodded, feeling a little self conscious as she handed him the handkerchief with Jakob watching their little exchange. She might be imagining it, but she got the feeling that Zayne's brother was smirking behind his own handkerchief. Why was teasing Zayne in his office so easy, but giving him her handkerchief made a little thrill run across her skin as their fingers touched?

Zayne turned aside in an adorably bashful manner and brought the cloth up to his face, dabbing at his prominent nose, but then suddenly jerked back, gasping.

“Oh G-God-! hh! hhaAH! HAETCHIEW! HAESHIEW! HH’HAHISSHIEW! Nhuhh…”

“What-?”

“I c-can't- Hh-hehh-hH'tchieew! HET'CHIEW! HAESHHIIEWW!” He could hardly speak with how harsh and rapid his sneezing now was, except that, as he thrust the cloth back into Lynette's hand, she was able to make out one word: “s-scented- hh'hehh-TCHOO!”

“Scented? But it's not—”

Even as she denied it, Lynette brought the handkerchief up to her own nose and, sure enough, smelled something floral. But it couldn't be scented; she'd carefully hand washed it in fragrance-free detergent, and it had smelled like nothing then but clean cloth. This scent, though, was familiar, almost like…

With growing anxiety Lynette began searching through her bag, frantically rummaging until she touched something damp that confirmed her suspicions. She withdrew it from the bag: a small tube with the cap flipped open, its label decorated with a bundle of lavender flowers.

“Oh shit. My hand lotion, it… It came open somehow. Oh my God, I can't believe this. Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…”

She trailed off. It wasn't like he could answer her at the moment anyway, hunched over as he was with his nose in the crook of his elbow, sneezes hitting him so hard and fast that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the next began. Guilt rolled over her. Some first impression she must be making on Jakob, first with her teasing and flirting with his brother in his office, and now sending him into the throes of maybe the worst allergy attack Lynette had seen from him yet.

“I… I'm so sorry,” she repeated, unsure of what else to do.

“H-he’ll be alright in a-hih! i-in a minute,” Jakob assured her, his own face flushed. “Oh, e-excuse me agaihehhnnn- hh’chxt! hh’chxt! hh’CHXT!-CHXT! hh-CHX-TCHIU!! ETCHIUU!”

Well, at least he didn't seem to hate her. He was also not much better off than Zayne, so what in the world was she supposed to do now? Were they really going to be alright? How could she show up to the restaurant with two guys sneezing their heads off?

“Um… Listen, maybe we'd better take a rain check on that dinner together.”

“N-no!” Zayne’s sneezing fit finally paused long enough for him to speak up, his face streaked with allergic tears as he turned to Lynette. “I-I’ll be- I’ll be f-fi- I- I’ll be fine- hehh! HEHTCHIEEW! Guhh… P-please, I… d-don't want to- to- hehh’ITSSHIEW! t-to ruin this- hehh! Heh-ISSHHiew!”

That was apparently as long of a reprieve as his nose was willing to give him as he turned back into his jacket sleeve, which Lynette could see was getting damp, for yet another rapid fit.

Jakob snuffled thickly, rubbing his own pinkened nose with a squelching sound.

“I th-think she might have a point, Zayne. heh’tcxh!”

“Besides, you're not ruining anything,” Lynette added. “If anyone’s to blame, it's me and my stupid, leaky hand lotion.”

“I think that woman who ra- r-heh-hh’chxt! heh’cht! guh… ran into me is more at fault than, uh, -snf- than you are.”

“Maybe, but…”

Lynette still couldn't help but feel responsible for making the situation worse. She felt like she was finally getting somewhere with Zayne, getting the introverted guy to open up to her, and she didn't want this evening to turn into nothing but a sour memory. Was there some way to salvage this? Or at least make it up to him? If going out tonight was off the table, then…

“Hey, um, y'know… my apartment actually isn’t too far from here. What if we headed there and got takeout instead?”

Zayne seemed so shocked by her offer that he actually stopped sneezing, if only for a few seconds.

“I c-couldn’t ask you to do tha- th-hahh! HATCHIEW!”

Lynette shook her head. “You’re not asking. I'm offering. Please.”

She wasn’t sure if he was still conflicted, or if he just couldn’t answer, but he didn’t say anything as he spent a good few seconds rubbing harshly at his nose and snuffling thickly. Maybe he was attempting to beat his allergic flare up into submission through sheer force of will. At last, he took a deep breath and fixed her with a small, wavering smile beneath his teary gaze.

“I would l-love to.”

Something in Lynette’s chest twisted with a strange, sweet pain.

“We would love to,” added Jakob, who seemed to have recovered a bit more than Zayne at this point, though his own face was streaked with tears as he sniffled and rubbed his nose.

Zayne looked at his brother and nodded, but already he was gearing up for another sneeze, his eyes fluttering closed as his breath caught once more.

“hehh’ISSHiew! EHTSHiew! Ohh God…”

A smile split Lynette’s face, despite the ridiculousness of it all. Or, if she was being honest, maybe because of it.

“Great! Come on, then, it’s this way. Oh, here,” she added, looping her arm through Zayne’s, “let me help you.”

Ostensibly it was to help keep him balanced, but also… it just felt right. He may have tried to stammer something out, but it was quickly cut off by another round of sneezes. As Jakob appeared on her other side, stifling a sneeze of his own into his handkerchief, Lynette took his arm too, her smile widening into a grin.

“Seems like the sooner we get to my place the better,” she told the allergy-ridden brothers. “And boy am I glad I just bought tissues. I have a feeling you’ve each got a box with your name on it.”

[wesavegotham]

I would have more sympathy for people complaining about "Damian being treated as Bruce's only real child because they are related by blood" if Damian didn't literally spent probably over 75% of his existence doing something far away from his father while Bruce doesn't even comment on the fact that he hasn't seen his son in months and has no idea what he's doing.

[mcalhenwrites]

I'm not going to pretend it doesn't make me angry that I spend months and years trying to peddle my work to make ends meet, that I spend so much time mentioning my books and comms and everything, and people ignore that consisently... But the moment I finally break under the hopelessness - when it's obvious that it's fucking futile, that almost no one deems my work good enough to share with anyone else - suddenly they're concerned and scolding me. I'm working several jobs, bathing, generally keeping things clean, and I do this with several health problems including chronic pain. I found out that one of my cysts is growing and I may need to have it surgically removed. Which means potentially missing work to recover. Which means more money I lose. I spend so much time crawling out of the hole and it goes ignored, but the moment I just give up bc I don't have any strength left, suddenly that's my fault and I'm mentally sick. And that kind of makes me wish my entire situation upon people, and when they whine that it's hard, well fuck you, you thought I could ace it so surely you can, babe! I hate being angry about this, but it's just so exhausting to tell people who accuse me of not trying that I HAVE I HAVE SO FUCKING HARD AND YOU DID NOT PAY ATTENTION THEN Or you know you're attempting to gaslight me by claiming I didn't try despite that I obviously have worked my ass off trying, and that's so much fucking worse

[honorhearted]

Benjamin grinned. "Ah. Well, heaven forbid it be a French horn, rather than an English horn," he teased. "Either way, I don't think he'll be making any grand appearances in a show beyond a drawing room -- hidden behind a potted plant, of course."

To his embarrassment, Amelia continued with her forthright commentary. "If anything, I'd say you are teasing me," he countered, praying the pink in his cheeks had lessened. "Though your claim that my 'wit and charm' might be off-putting is admittedly a source of intrigue. Do women not enjoy sarcasm and...well, I won't say 'charm,' per se, but that was your precise word choice."

Although Amelia admitted to never having been properly courted, Benjamin had a rather difficult time believing it. She was very comfortable and confident in their discussion; but then, perhaps this was because she was already promised to another, and thus, didn't truly have to make an effort with any other gentlemen.

“Before I had a name, I had a fiancé," she murmured, surprising him by the shift in tone. "Before I was an actual person, I was a future duchess. I was never given the chance to be Amelia, and some days I fear I will never be given the chance."

Expression softening, Benjamin asked, "And how do you suppose you would do that, if given the chance? Or rather, what would you do?"

The prospect admittedly intrigued him. He, himself, never truly courted beyond passing flirtation, and with the war so freshly over, he was reacquainting himself with the man he once was -- or rather, the man he had now reinvented in an effort at moving forward.

Mercifully for the both of them, Amelia didn't seem intent to remain on the more sorrowful aspects for long. She mulled over his question, juggling about names with purpose, before settling on a few matches.

Lady Hawksworth admittedly sounded lovely -- perhaps a little too good to be true -- though he laughed at Amelia's assessment about her friend, Grace.

"Obnoxiously selfless?" he echoed, amused. "Is that how you view me? I only ask since you said we may have a lot in common."

Benjamin wasn't actually offended -- how could he be? -- and his eyes twinkled as he pressed, "All right, so what's the catch? Both of these ladies are unattached, and from what you have described, seem perfectly lovely in every way. Does one of them spit when she talks? Or perhaps the other has 'only the face a mother could love?'"

In truth, Benjamin never liked speaking of women in this way, but something about Amelia made him prefer to tease rather than treat her seriously.

She hummed. “I do think any of the Smythe-Smith ladies would be suitable as well, but that would most likely require attending more musicales in the future, so it might not be as enticing an endeavor.”

"Not enticing at all," Benjamin agreed, grinning.

To his surprise, Amelia grew far more personal, and spoke of her betrothed with a bitter yearning. It was clear she desired his affections and approval, but was unable to receive as such.

"Betrothals can be hard," he softly offered. "Perhaps he is being cold out of some sort of rebellion...a phase that, God willing, he will be quick to outgrow. Because I can assure you, madam, after only having spent the past half-hour in your presence, I find you utterly delightful." He smirked. "Well...a bit much at times, perhaps, but only in the most charming of ways. Some men may not like how keenly you observe the room."

Benjamin chose not to address the "other woman" remark. His own best friend had undergone similar drama, and he never wished to stick his nose where it wasn't wanted.

“But tell me," Amelia entreated, drawing him back to attention, "What kind of woman do you imagine yourself with, Mister Tallmadge?"

"Oh, I can't say I'm overly finnicky about the matter, so long as she has a brain somewhere between her ears," Benjamin promised, chuckling. "I enjoy discussion of the arts and sciences, so if she is a scholarly sort, I'm well on my way to being smitten." His smile turned lopsided. "After all: what is the point of having a beautiful wife, if she is but a mere ornament? I wish to engage with my significant other, not have her on my arm as some sort of nodding, fawning bauble."

He waved a hand. "And you're right: there's no need to meddle. I don't have my sights set on any particular woman at this time, and I don't imagine that will change any time soon."

“A happy home isn’t necessarily the way I would describe it. And there were plenty of times I nearly leapt from said tower. Metaphorically, of course." Her smile waned a sliver as she averted her gaze. Amelia knew she ought to be grateful for the advantages she'd been offered in her life. There were many young girls who would die to be in her position, yet it didn't stop her from feeling trapped. She ought to be happy and joyous, but most of the time Amelia felt like a caged bird forced to sing.

“Mr. Horowitz is an odd duck by many accounts, but I assume you've never heard Lord Colbourne sneeze. The man sounds like a French horn. And the type of horn that would well suit a musicale of this caliber, if you know what I mean."

Stealing a glance behind them, Amelia wondered how far into the performance the musicians had gotten. Had a single song passed since they escaped, or had cacophony grown since their departure? She had little interest in returning to the audience, especially when the company and temperature outside was far more enticing. A few more minutes, she told herself. A few more moments of feigning normalcy before she had to return to her own seventh circle of Hell.

“Tease me, if you must, but it doesn’t change the truth. I am not ashamed to acknowledge someone’s outward beauty. As a person who was raised to view a person’s worth by their appearance, I believe you are rather dashing. Your wit and charm merely add to it. Though, to some, it may be a little off putting. Then again, I've never been properly courted, so I'm not entirely sure what the average gentlewoman looks for in a suitor. I, myself, was engaged before I was even born.”

Amelia didn’t dare to meet his gaze, certain that she would see a glimpse of shock or disgust in his eyes—or worse, pity. Amelia knew there was plenty of things to pity her for, but ensuring the betterment of her family couldn’t be one of them.

“Before I had a name, I had a fiancé. Before I was an actual person, I was a future duchess. I was never given the chance to be Amelia, and some days I fear I will never be given the chance."

“Hmm, well,” Her expression brightened as a list of name ran through her mind. “Off of the top of my head, and from the little I know about you, I could think of a few ladies that might be a good match. Lady Hawksworth is kind and demure, a perfect complement for a pastor’s son, I’d say. She’s passionate about charity work and is a rare beauty, but she is a widow, which could make courting her either easier or harder, depending on the gentleman. But, if the gentry isn’t entirely to your taste, my good friend Grace might be an excellent match for you. She is patient and kind, and obnoxiously selfless. I think you two may have a lot in common.”

Amelia’s smile faltered for a moment at the thought of her friend. Grace was perfect and always had been since they were children. If it hadn’t been for her late father’s death, Grace Eversleigh would surely be a crowned jewel even amongst high society. But, as the daughter of a squire and a woman with no real claims, Grace found herself in the employ of the Duchess of Wyndham—a spot Amelia wouldn’t wish upon her greatest enemy.

Augusta Cavendish was a mean, old witch with a knack for sticking her nose into places it didn’t belong. Out of all the things she might inherit upon her marriage to Thomas Cavendish, his grandmother was not one she was looking forward to. The only respite was that Grace seemed to take the brunt of the duchess’s wrath. If Grace were to find a proper husband, she might be able to leave her post as the duchess’s companion and, in turn, Thomas might turn his attention towards his fiancée instead.

“I do think any of the Smythe-Smith ladies would be suitable as well, but that would most likely require attending more musicales in the future, so it might not be as enticing an endeavor.”

Amused and slightly annoyed by the reality of her situation, Amelia let out a soft snort and shook her head.

“My ‘betrothed’ hardly looks in my direction unless his grandmother commands him. I can’t even claim that we’re an ill-matched pair; we don’t know anything about one about her and he is determined to keep it that way. He, undoubtedly, sees his engagement to me as a chore, and we aren’t even married yet. Besides, I believe his affections are reserved for another.”

Amelia tried not to encourage the sour taste of jealousy in her mouth, but it was hard not to envy the way her fiancé looked at her friend. Grace made Thomas laugh in ways Amelia hadn’t even thought him capable of. Thomas sought Grace out for advice and conversation while he seemed to actively avoid crossing paths with the woman he was to marry. It would’ve been easier if he hated her, if his distaste for her company was as obvious as his grandmother’s dislike for Amelia. But it was the Duke’s indifference that hurt Amelia the most.

And such indifference only stung more when Grace seemed to attract all the attention.

“But tell me: What kind of woman do you imagine yourself with, Mister Tallmadge? As a lady of the ton, it’s my job to know everyone. So, if there’s anyone you had your eye on… I could always put in a good word for you. I know it could be considered meddling, but…” She shrugged, biting back a playful grin. “All’s fair in love and war, right?”

[pttucker]

Shin Yoosung raised her head and watched me. This was the person who should be comforted but she was the one asking if I was okay. "Ahjussi… are you okay?" I wasn't able to answer so I avoided Shin Yoosung's gaze. I looked up and all my companions were staring at me. Lee Jihye looked pained while Jung Heewon was anxious. I smiled while moving my lips. "Why are you looking like that? I'm fine. My mother has also recovered." "Are you really okay?" "I'm really fine. And…" I carefully examined every party member. I felt the time that passed from the wounds all over their body. The moment the giant story Gigantomachia was over, they ran to this place first. It was without feeling the aftermath of victory. "Gigantomachia… you all suffered." Perhaps my expression looked ridiculous. For some reason, Jung Heewon burst out laughing. "Are those words the bonus? Dokja-ssi really… we are working here because it is good." Lee Jihye nodded by her side. Jung Heewon kept speaking. "In addition… why did you run away alone again? Do you really want to die? Or do you want to be confined again?"

Dokja's party being there for him in his time of need. 😭

He's trying to apologize "for everything" and they're just like "what is there to apologize for?" and they're all just so worried for him and being so gentle when it's clear Dokja is trying so hard not to completely breakdown. Trying so hard not to allow himself to vulnerable. 😭

The guy has literally been hiding the fact he was speared by Poseidon in order to solely focus on his mother and Sangah and now he's focusing on his party when he almost lost his mother and may still yet lose one of his first companions.

And, oh man, it was so painful seeing Dokja just run into wall after wall while frantically trying to save them both and getting more and more panicked and scared over the fact that this time there's no final secret scheme to save them, especially when he knows that every single time Joonghyuk tried to do something similar he failed.

And Joonghyuk! Trying to act so callous when he was just as internally panicked as Dokja, secretly running around also trying to save them both, also unwilling to show any emotion related to the fact that there's a good chance they've failed.

And this should be a victorious moment! They defeated Poseidon! They changed the course of a scenario that's had the same outcome for thousands of years!

[gracieheartspedro]

You Really Got Me Now

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.2k words

description: your best friend and roommate eddie is pissing you off, per usual. his way of making you feel heard is not very conventional.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, roommate au, lowkey pwp, best friend!eddie, reader and eddie are both in their 30s, a bit of force proximity, reader is awkward as fuck (she just like me), reader hasn't gotten dick lately, mentions of voyeurism (eddie and reader have listened to each other having sex), kind of dom!eddie, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, lots and lots of dirty talk, eddie cums in reader.... annoying ass neighbors?

authors note: yeah i don't know. i'm just horny for this man. all of the time. thanks to lindsey @amanitacowboy who CONSISTENTLY feeds into my delusions. love u.

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

He pissed you off for the fourth time today. 

You had spent most of your day doing yard work, trying to ensure the home you two shared did not look overgrown for your snooty neighbors. They already hated that there was an unmarried couple living next to them. Even worse they were not even a couple. 

Eddie and you had been friends for over a decade. When you two could not find someone to settle down with once you both turned 30, you decided to rent a house together. You were sick of living at home with your parents and everyone else around you was in love. Steve had Kira, Robin had Vicki, and well… you had Eddie. Eddie had you. But not in a romantic sense. 

That’s what you two told yourselves, at least. 

Made crystal clear years ago, you and Eddie knew your friendship meant more than some knee jerk desires. You had kissed once, and you would be lying if you said you did not enjoy it. He was tentative, kissing you like he was trying to melt all your worries away. At the time, it was a desperate attempt to distract your mind from a shitty break up and Eddie had gotten a bit too high. 

That next morning, you sat down with him and discussed boundaries. No kissing, no sex. That was the hard line, and for years, you two had kept that promise to yourselves. 

There had been moments. An evening out with friends where you two would dance all night together and when you parted to go to your separate rooms, you would linger in the hallway just staring at each other. No one ever caved because you both knew you would regret it in the morning. Or the tense nights where one of you said something to rub the other person the wrong way. Sometimes it would turn into you two apologizing in the dimly lit kitchen, hugging and swaying near the flickering oven lightbulb. 

Today was going to be one of those days for sure. Everything he did rubbed you the wrong way.

He had not done the dishes last night, deciding to stay up late and drink himself into a deep slumber. When you woke up, wrapped in your falling-apart-at-the-seams robe and saw the dishes, you wanted to throw an empty beer bottle at him. But you didn’t. You just did them and didn’t say a word.

Then there was leaving his wet clothes in the washing machine. The moment your nose got a whiff of the despicable scent of molding clothes, you slammed the top down and groaned his name. He was not even in the house, deciding as soon as he woke up that he needed to go get a pack of cigarettes from the gas station. 

Then there was him being adamant about washing his van with the hose you were trying to use to water the dying plants in the flower beds surrounding your front door. You just grit your teeth, jerking your head into a nod when he asked for it. 

Now here he is, making you mad again as you sweat all of your body weight over some weeds. 

“I’m having some of the guys over tonight for some burgers-” “No.”

He narrows his eyes at you, swatting a gnat away from his face as you place your hands on your hips. 

“Why not?”

You had a list. A big long list. The house was a disaster. The neighbors called a noise complaint last time. The grill needed propane.

This was the tipping point. “Eddie, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you in our front yard,” You blow up, throwing off your gardening gloves, “You haven’t done shit for this house in months. I am like your own little personal housewife. I am the only person in this house that keeps it nice and clean. I haven’t had a night out in months because I am using my weekends to keep up with this shithole. I haven’t had a guy over in over a year, for fucks sake! No guy wants to fuck a girl who lives with a shitty roommate who can’t even clean. I need… I need your help.” 

His demeanor shifts, his shoulders slumping a bit. You did not mean for the word vomit to come out like that. You sounded vicious, but all of it needed to come out at sometime.

“Sweetheart-” But you do not want his excuses. You wave him off, storming towards the front door and swinging open the glass door, letting it shut behind you. You needed cold A/C on your face. You were about to pass out from anger and heatstroke. Damn Indiana summers. 

Eddie launches the door open, practically chasing you down to the kitchen. You stand under a vent, tilting your face directly towards the line of air. 

“What do you need my help with?” He asks, a slight arrogance in his tone. 

You don’t even look at him. You just hum as the cold air caresses your face. “The dishes. The laundry. Fuckin’ clean a toilet-”

“And what about guys not coming over?”

You finally tilt your head over at him, confused. “Huh?”

He looks at you with this fire in his eyes that you have almost never seen before. Maybe once or twice when one of his ex girlfriend’s said something based. He did not seem angry, per se, but he seemed agitated.

He crosses his arms over his chest, covering the Metallica logo on the front of his black tank top. His arms are toned and sprawling with randomly harsh lined tattoos. You had to thank Steve for the toned muscles as he was forcing Eddie to lift weights with him twice a week. You are definitely seeing the results. 

“You said no guy wants to fuck a girl who lives with a shitty roommate,” He states plainly, leaning against the kitchen island, “How am I supposed to help you with that?”

It’s like he’s trying to hint at something. Eddie was notorious for not saying what he really wanted to say, just simply talking around the subject. 

“Let me have a night off where I’m not cleaning up after you. Maybe I can bring a guy home.”

He cocks his head to the side, pursing his lips as his eyes take you in your sweaty clothing. You had sweat dripping into places you never knew you even had. You felt better being in the air conditioning, but that did not disguise the already stained areas of the front of your oversized t-shirt and biker shorts. 

“You don’t need me to… do anything else?”

Will this be fifth time Eddie Munson pisses you off today?

“Say what you need to say, Munson,” You warn, annoyed by the creeping smile on his face. 

You watch as he uncrosses his arms, leaning forward towards you. “Do you need me to fuck you, princess? Is that what this is?”

Your jaw hits the floor at his offer.

“What? H-how are you getting that from this-” “You just need a good fuck to release all this tension. It’s written all over you.”

He has never been this bold before. It’s blowing your mind. He has never propositioned sex to you, ever. Maybe jokingly. Wait, last week he did suggest it to get rid of your period cramps-

“You have to be kiddin’ me, Munson.”

He shakes his head, dipping his head down to meet your eyes, “I’m deadly serious, princess.”

“You’re just sayin’ this to piss me off even more-”

He presses his pointer finger to your lips, shushing you immediately, “All this talk and I’m not hearing a no.”

You swat his hand away, groaning in annoyance. You gave Eddie props, he was very convincing when he wanted to be. But you knew better.

But then again, it had been a year since a guy pleased you. 

“Eddie, you know the promise we made all those years ago. No kissing. No sex,” You lean further away, your back arching over the counter. “You can’t just propose this because I am angry at you and want you to take some accountability.”

“I’m not proposing this because I wanna weasel my way out of trouble. I’m doing it because you have been so tense these last couple months, I feel like I am walking on eggshells,” He explains, tossing his hands in the air dramatically, “Just let me get it out of your system. I know it’s been a year or so.”

“How do you know?”

You were trying to find a way out. The deepest darkest secret you held in the very depths of your heart was that you did have feelings for Eddie. You have since high school. But Eddie was occupied in every place in life and you got the permanent label as friend before you even had a chance. He dated around and you were stuck secretly obsessing over him, which- whatever. It was fine. 

All his passes at you were just normal at this point. You never gave them a second thought. You were idle in the idea that it was just jokes and that he never meant it. Even when he said he would give you head to make you feel better when the last guy you dated broke up with you. Or when he told you that he liked the way your hands felt pressed against his bare chest when you helped him apply sunscreen. Or when-

Wait... Did friends usually say that to each other?

“How do I know what?” He asks, his voice wavering a bit.

You huff, “How do you know it’s been a year?”

A mischievous smile spreads across his lips, “Because the last time I heard you through the wall moaning and begging, was about March of last year. It’s currently June.”

The heat rises back to your cheeks as you stare at him wide eyed. You did not realize he was even home when you last had someone over, let alone knew he heard it all.

“Eddie! You sick bastard! You listened?!”

You go to smack his chest but he snatches your hand away, the darkness in his eyes only hinting at his intentions. 

“How can I not? You were so loud for that guy,” He almost looks jealous. Almost. 

“I-“

“Just begging for him to let you cum. Did you, sweetheart? Did you cum for that slimeball?”

Your mouth opens slightly, realizing his hand is still wrapped around your wrist. No ease in the tension around it, just white-knuckling it. 

“I don’t remember-“

“Those moans sounded too good to be true, princess. But what do I know,” He sits back against the counter again, pulling your body closer as he does, “You’ve never cum for me. Maybe you actually do sound like that.”

You really should not. You should just yank your arm away from him and mark this down as Eddie just being a perv again. But something inside you, the tension, the annoyance, the desire, is starting to burn a pit in your stomach.

“I can.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling your wrist and hand up to his shoulder so you rest it there. You grip onto his bare shoulder, while his arm snakes around your waist. 

“You can what?”

Your mouth goes dry, unsure if you can actually mutter the words. You usually had no filter with Eddie, but right now you felt like your voice completely cut out. He looks down at you, his head tilted in curiosity. “Say it, sweetheart. You can what?”

You grit your teeth, finally submitting. 

“I could cum for you.”

He arrogantly smirks, his fingers sneaking up under your shirt, “Yeah, princess? You wanna cum for me?”

Coming from his lips, it’s like melted butter. It seems so natural, his voice dropping as he speaks such absurd things to you. You smack your lips together, almost like you are contemplating giving in. But your mind is already made up. 

Before you can even give him a taste of his own medicine, your mind slips.

“If only you make me scream like those other girls.”

Fuck. Why did you say that?

His mouth only widens, shocked at the statement. “So you were listening to me, huh? You called me a sick bastard mere moments ago when you were doing the same thing!”

Your fingers pinch his earlobe, making him flinch a bit. “Eddie, you cannot help but be loud! Neither can they!”

Your defense is weak, but you try to sound convincing. 

“Well they are screaming for a reason, sweetheart.”

You dismiss the comment for a minute, really trying to mull this idea over. Would this cost you his friendship? Was it all really worth it? 

Your nails trail down and dig into his shoulder blade, warningly. “Do you seriously want to do this?”

He shrugs, casually, like this is the most normal conversation you two have ever had. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get you in my bed for years. Seems like I just gotta get you all angry and hot for you to even think about it.”

The revelation deflates you a bit. You mentally slap yourself, thinking back to all the times Eddie has offered you ‘time’ with him in bed. You always took his passes as jokes, because that’s just Eddie. He’s never been serious a day in his life. 

You press your body into him more, your nose getting closer to his, “You’ve wanted this for years?”

He nudges your nose with his, playfully, “Don’t act all surprised.”

The tension is at an all time high. The moment your eyes drop to his lips, you cannot peel them away from them. You have been close to him like this before, but never with explicit intentions. Maybe just to tease him or pester him. One time to inspect a possible bug that flew into his eye. 

Eddie was your friend. Best friend. 

Why was he looking different?

He notes the way you are silent, observing the way his lips curl upward into a toothless grin. 

He shifts down, capturing your lips in a hesitant kiss, testing the waters. When the softness of his lips makes impact on your slightly dry lips, you feel self-conscious for a beat. 

That was until you felt Eddie’s other hand sneak around your waist and pull you even closer. It’s the quiet reassurance you did not even know you needed. 

You lean into it, practically falling into his chest completely. The kiss only progresses from there. Your hand cradles his neck as his hands sneak down from your waist to your ass. You had seen Eddie kiss before, but having it be done to you is a completely different experience. He’s hungry for it, but he’s also so tender and calculated with the movements. 

The groping turns into him leveraging you upward onto the countertop. He slots himself between your legs, feeling up your thighs as his tongue slips past your lips. He’s good at stimulating you in every way, your body riddled with goosebumps. You cannot help the groans leaving your throat.

“God, you’re so hot,” He grumbles between kisses. You giggle into his mouth which makes him shake his head and pull away. 

You hold his face close to yours, smiling up at his lust-blown eyes. “Never thought I’d hear you say that. Well… in this situation at least.”

“Can you just shush and let me make you feel good?” His lips trail down from your cheek peppering wet kisses to your neck, “Lemme make it up to you, sweetheart. Been a bad friend. Bad roommate.”

You roll your eyes for two reasons. One, he’s a dork. Two, his lips feel way too good on your throat.

“Make it up to me by being a good lover.”

He barks a laugh, almost too loud for the joke. “Oh, you want me to make love to you?”

“Can you just keep kissin’-”

His lips touch your collarbones and suddenly your body stiffens. You look down at his sinful expression, his lips dragging lower over your chest. His hand returns to the hem of your shirt, slowly tugging it over your head. Your ratty old sports bra was the least sexy thing you could be wearing, but Eddie eyes you like you are in lacey red lingerie with his name stitched into it. You take it upon yourself to peel the sweaty bra off, luckily the only scent you smell when you lift your arms is your antiperspirant.

“You are more perfect than I imagined,” Eddie mumbles, his hands reaching out to cup your boobs. His hands still adorned with his gaudy rings. Makes the sight even more breathtaking. 

You roll your eyes, not believing him, “You’ve seen me in a bathing-”

His head dips down, catching your nipple in his mouth. The action silences you and instead of continuing your nervous babbling, you moan out his name. He rolls your pebbled nipple between his teeth while hissing in satisfaction. You can not stop yourself from raking your fingers through his curls. 

He pulls away from your chest, pressing a quick kiss to your other tit, “I can’t do this if you continue to give me grief.”

The dig makes you blush. You were always awful when it came to dirty talk. Making it awkward was, unfortunately, your specialty. You nod sheepishly, untangling your fingers from his deep chocolate brown hair.

“I’ll shut up.”

He shakes his head, his lips finding the spot right below your ear. You can feel the smirk on his face, "No, don’t shut up. Just keep making those other pretty sounds for me, sweetheart.”

His thumbs hook around the elastic waistband of your shorts, tugging them down. You lift your hips, using his shoulders to balance yourself. You don’t expect him to have you completely naked on your kitchen counter, but the moment your underwear peel away from your cunt, you realize that the wetness between your legs is not just sweat. 

He pulls away from your neck to look at your bare body before him and the groan he lets out makes your pussy clench around nothing. His hand skips down your body, eventually groping your hips. 

“Eddie,” You hum, tilting his chin up so his eyes meet yours, “I’m very naked and you are not.”

He smiles wickedly, shaking his head, “‘Cause I ain’t fuckin’ you here, sweetheart. This is just a really good place for me to get on my knees and devour you.”

You swallow hard, watching him drop to one knee, making him eye level with your glistening cunt, “And look at how beautiful and wet she is for me. This all for me, sweet girl?”

“You’re not the only one who’s been wanting this for a while,” You admit, your eyes drooping to watch his mouth move across your inner thighs. You are a bit self-conscious, not having prepared your pussy for this kind of activity, but Eddie does not seem to mind. He admires you like a piece of art at a museum.

He flicks his tongue out of his mouth, unhurriedly moving up your slit. Once he has his first taste, that smile returns, “Mmm, there’s that confession I’ve been waiting for.”

Your mind draws a blank as he dives back in, pressing his tongue between your pussy lips. He has never looked so happy doing a task in his life, his beautifully straight teeth bared as his tongue swirls around your clit. His grip only tightens on your thighs ensuring you do not move them together. He needs you nice and wide open while he tongue fucks you. 

He becomes more eager with his movements the moment you try to brace yourself on the edge of the counter. His fingers hook down into your flesh, dragging you to the edge of the surface. He does not miss a beat while he suckles on your clit, wrapping his plump pink lips around it and slurping it like a straw. 

The knot in your stomach is tightening as you study his actions. Somehow it is like he knows your body better than you do. 

The instant he sinks his pointer and middle finger into your soaked cunt, it is game over. Your body reacts before your mind does, vibrating against his mouth and fingers. He does not slow down when you clench around him, instead, he increases his speed and ministrations. 

“Jesus, fuck, Eddie,” you whimper, surrendering to the climax. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting your mouth hang ajar as random moans escape you. Your nerve endings have never felt so electrified in your life. 

Once you feel a slight come down, Eddie comes back up for air. His lips are shiny with his own saliva and whatever escaped you when you came. 

You drop your head back, hitting the upper cabinet. 

“You didn’t even have to beg for the first one,” He grunts, getting back to his feet. He locks his arm around your knees and drags your upper half into his other arm, “But the second one, you have to ask for permission, ‘kay?”

His lips are pressed to your temple, kissing you gingerly. 

“You want me to beg, Eds?”

He chuckles darkly, carrying you princess-style across the house and to the living room. He could take you to bed, but he is not sure if that feels too intimate. You just want him inside you, not caring much where he decides to do it. 

You bounce on the worn-down couch as he drops you down, your bare ass immediately sticking to the leather. His discards his tank top and practically jumps on top of you, his hips resting between your legs. You greedily tug at his basketball shorts, begging to reveal the length behind the tented fabric. 

“Mmm, eager, are we?”

You had seen Eddie’s ass plenty of times. His shirtless frame. But never his dick. His tight pants left little to the imagination most times. But up close, pressed against your palm, you cannot help but gasp about how big he is. 

He grabs your wrist firmly, his curls dropping down his shoulders as he shakes his head, “Wanna hear you beg.”

It spills right out of your desperate mouth. “Please, Eddie.”

“Please what?”

“Let me see your cock,” Your eyes reflecting faux innocence, “Please?”

He cannot help but giggle, assisting you in getting his shorts down his tattooed legs. You had been next to him for the big one on his right thigh, an ode to his favorite Metallica album. You did not completely understand the concept, but the black ink littering his body only added to his appeal. 

His cock is even better than your mind had mocked up before. Long, slightly curved to the left, and not too thick that he may split you in half. 

You truly cannot fathom the fact that this is happening. He is willingly showing you his dick and smiling at you while you gawk. 

He is naked above you, and God is he breathtaking. The mop of curls, the broadness of his shoulders, his very slight tummy from all the beer he drinks, the works of art littering his pale skin.

Your eyes finally make their way back up to his, only to note the serious look he’s giving you. 

“What?”

His lips twitch, “Just can’t believe I finally get to do this. And that it’s real and it’s not all in my head.”

Your heart stutters. 

You lick your lips, searching every crevice of your mind for a response. He realizes that you are trying to muddle up a reply and that he has broken your brain temporarily. So instead of letting you counter his statement, he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. 

He wastes no time after that, grabbing his dick and pushing it between your slick folds. You groan into his mouth, your pussy still very sensitive from the first orgasm he gave you. Your hand snakes around the back of his neck, holding his face close to yours. 

“Eddie-“

He pushes into you before you can say anything else, a hiss whistling between his clenched teeth. 

“God damn,” He throws his head back, shaking your hand away from his neck, “You’re fuckin’ tight, princess.”

The moan that leaves your throat is a whole octave lower than your actual voice. Eddie looks down at you, the widest smile painted across his face. You feel his hips inch closer and closer to you and you realize he is not fully inside you yet. 

You take a breath, trying to relax your muscles, “Please, please, please.”

He snaps his hips forward, a dark guttural chuckle taunting you. “There she is. Beggin’.”

Eddie had changed into a completely different person. Sure, he was always picking on you, but this was a stark contrast from your silly best friend. The man above you, slowly rocking his hips inside you, was feral. His confidence only burning brighter the more you whimper for him. 

“Please, faster.”

The wet squelching noise that emits between your bodies is borderline embarrassing. You had never heard such a sound with any other man. Eddie loves it, though. The idea that you were just gushing for him is enough to send him into overdrive. 

“Yeah? You want me to go faster,” He pushes your thighs apart, spreading you wider. He wants to look at how beautiful your pussy looks stuffed full of him. “Look at that.”

You shift yourself up on your elbows, looking down at the sight he cannot peel his eyes away from. “Jesus, I cannot believe…”

You drift off, watching Eddie slowly retreat back only to sharply snap forward. Your jaw goes slack as he drives himself into you, disappearing over and over again. 

Eddie‘s eyes are now on you, watching your tits jiggle every time his cock pierces your squishy walls. 

“You really needed this, huh, princess?”

You watch as he reaches down between your bodies, swiping your clit with his thumb.

Your eyes roll back, unable to hold yourself together, “I really did, oh my god.”

Your legs stiffen and Eddie’s hands loosen up, letting you squirm and adjust yourself. Your hips burn and your mind is mush. Eddie’s erratic movements against your swollen bud and his rapidly moving hips are overstimulating, you cannot help but lock your legs around him. 

“Yeah, I can fucking feel you clenching around me,” He babbles, licking his lips, “You just take my cock so well, don’t you? Just fuckin’ made for me.”

He does not stop talking as you grunt your response. You have never seen the man so driven to get something done in your life. He wants to cum, but he wants to feel you fall apart on him even more. His words are just pouring out of him.

“Yeah? You want me to make you mine, huh? Gonna make this pussy somethin’ only I can have.“

Your eyes fly open in shock, his words ringing in your ears. You feel his dick twitch inside you, hitting the same perfect spot over and over again. “Please, please.”

“Fuck, say it, baby. Say that you’re mine.”

He is so desperate, his usual calm, cool, collected voice faltering. 

“I’m yours, Eddie.”

His thumb presses hard down on your clit, causing your hips to shift upward. The nerve endings that were ablaze before are now imploding. 

The vibration of your body catches him off guard at first, so he locks his hands on your hips. You lurch your body into a crescent shape as he continues to chase his high. A final scream rips through your body, chanting his name. 

Every snap forward was another word slipping from his practically drooling mouth. He fucked his cum deep inside you, his words bouncing off the walls.

“Yes.” “The.” “Fuck.” “You.” “Are.”

Your body goes completely limp under him the moment your high dissipates. He is panting like he just ran 10 miles as he slowly drifts to his side, positioning his nude body between your body and the back couch cushions. When his cock leaves your cunt, he dribbles cum over your mound and lower tummy. You glance down at your body, completely blissed out. 

You have never felt more appreciated in your life.

He lays his head right on your shoulder, fanning your sweaty body with his warm breath. He does not say anything, just settles next you, throwing his arm over your midsection.

You swallow, trying to regain your composure. You thought after doing something like this with Eddie, you would feel some guilt. Regret, maybe. But none of those emotions spring up.

You felt relaxed and at peace. Like you walked off the edge of a cliff and instead of landing on a rocky bottom, you landed on a sea of fluffy pillows. It was a relief. 

Your eyes fall onto his lazily smirking face, “I did really need that.”

He hums his response at first, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I could tell. I can read you pretty well, huh?”

That’s the understatement of the century. He can read you perfectly. 

You start to reflect on every word that spilled from his lips during the entire interaction, and suddenly your stomach is in knots. You start to wonder if he really did feel those things, or if he was just lost in the moment. You almost don’t ask in fear that he will tell you something you didn’t want to hear. 

“Did you mean everything you said,” You press, your hand absentmindedly tucking some of his hair behind of his ear. His fingers dance across your flesh, eventually swirling around your collarbones.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

He says it so simply. You wanted to believe it was that easy, but there is logistical things that needed to be discussed. Feelings and thoughts that needed further explanation. 

Eddie can see that your mind is racing. Your expression gives you away every time. His mouth slowly opens to further elaborate on his response, but before he can get out a word, there’s a pounding at your front door. 

It is so sudden and loud, you both sit up from the couch. 

“Mr. Munson! You left your hose on! There’s a drought-”

You tune out the rest of the rant from your elderly neighbor because Eddie starts chuckling and rubbing his eyes. He looks down at you as the rant starts to get louder, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips before grabbing his boxers off the floor. 

“You stay there, beautiful. I’ll deal with this.”

You do as he says, the bliss he left you in after the kiss enough to hold you over until he comes crawling back on top of you. He stumbles back into his boxers, going to the front door and cracking it so he can get eyes on your neighbor. 

“Yeah, my fault, Mr. O’Connell. Had to comfort my lady because she cut herself on the shovel. I’ll be right out to shut off that hose and save the rainforest or whatever.”

You hear a scoff from behind the door, the older gentleman taken off guard. “Oh, so she’s your lady now?”

You can hear the smile that spreads across his face. “Always has been, sir.”

[gojoest]

from pregnancy freak to postpartum freak — satoru finds himself in a tough spot while your body is recovering from giving birth to his child. he tries to be patient but motherhood looks so beautiful on you… and unfortunately, after you’re ready to have him again, there seems to be another little issue — one that likes to cry and disrupt the moment satoru has been longing for

MDNI, established relationship, f!reader (she/her), pregnancy and postpartum, you have a beautiful baby daughter, mentions of breastfeeding and satoru being really really weird about it, mentions of male masturbation, somno if you squint really hard (just to be safe), pet names (baby, beautiful, sweetheart), nothing too explicit going on here tbf, but there’s a sweet little hint of a potential breeding sesh at the end, not proofread, wc: 1.8k+

your husband (gojo satoru) and you have always had a marvelous sex life, one that would naturally induce a sense of envy in anyone who came to know of it, accidentally or not — the walls were thin, but sometimes it was the mouth of your husband that was too big.

but in all honesty, there has never been a day in which you didn’t desire each other carnally, even after so many years.

you thought, maybe, this might change after he knocked you up with a baby — you had read a handful of articles on the topic and how some men become more distant during that sensitive timeframe — but as it turns out, you could not have been more wrong. either those magazines sucked or your husband was some sort of mutation. maybe, it was both.

your pregnancy could be, in fact, easily considered the peak of your sex life — that round belly of yours really did a number on him, as well as on you. well, with you it was the hormonal changes your body was going through that made you so borderline sexually insatiable, and the mood to bounce on him would strike you more often than ever. at some point, your sex drive went off the roof — you’d ask him to fuck you multiple times a day and satoru couldn’t be more fortunate — he’d drop everything and oblige in an instant, like that was all he had been waiting for, which was not so far from the truth. it was safe to say that you enabled the freak in him, and he was grateful.

“thank god… i don’t know how else i could survive those 9 months with you glowing like this, becoming more and more beautiful with each passing day”, he’d say to you every time you pressed and rubbed your ass against his cock in the middle of the night, not so innocently waking him up because you had a craving.

you had a lot of sex, but he was always careful with your aches and pains, no quirky positions until the baby was born — your physique didn’t allow it as the pregnancy progressed anyway. but the passion was always there, undeniably so, growing along with you.

but things changed after you went into labor and your daughter was born. the perfect little angel, his and his baby’s baby. satoru has never been happier.

to be honest, he didn’t think about sex at all in the beginning. he was on cloud nine, overjoyed. every second of his day was spent exploring this new light in his life and taking care of the both of you.

after you got discharged from the hospital, he took it upon himself to look after the house and deal with the chores — he handled the cooking, he washed the dishes, cleaned, did the laundry and everything else that needed to be done — while you were healing and navigating through motherhood. he helped you nurse your daughter, there wasn’t a single night where he didn’t wake up along with you whenever the baby needed feeding or randomly started crying.

but soon enough, after he adapted to this new pace, his sex drive started showing signs of its return. it came back strong — in fact, stronger than ever, and once again it was none other than you to blame for it.

…because, being a mother looked so good on you.

you have been his wife for years. but now, you are the mother of his child, and that is a title that somehow makes you his even more than ever. it is so permanent. because, even if you leave him one day — which you never would since he would simply never allow it — being the mother of his child will always tie you to him, he will always have a place in your life. that’s it, you just made it impossible for yourself to run away from him. like it or not, you will be his eternally and irrevocably.

he liked watching you be a mother and couldn’t help but get bricked up each time you held your daughter close to your chest, revealing your breast and holding it to her mouth in order to feed her.

was this normal? to get this hard? now of all times? — he didn’t know, and honestly, he didn’t bother finding out. because, when was he ever normal about you to begin with?

all he wanted to do in those moments was pin you down and fuck himself into you. you could see it in his eyes and in his bulge that he was trying to readjust.

“don’t try anything funny in front of the baby”

“i would never — i am simply watching and engraving this scene into my mind, for later”

‘for later’ obviously meant when he was jerking off.

the doctor said “no sexual intercourse for six weeks”

your body needed time to heal after giving birth, and that was only natural. and it was okay.

but it didn’t mean it wasn’t arduous for him. he had to watch you day and night without being able to touch you in ways he wanted to.

and now it’s been two months. two whole months without him laying a finger on you. his urges were back with full force, but yours? not really.

sure, you cuddled plenty while the baby was sleeping, which made it even harder for him. but you never got sexually intimate after you gave birth. he was well aware that you needed more time, that your body was still not ready, that you were exhausted physically and mentally because, once again, you were going through all these changes — because of him.

he understood that. but still, he missed you so much.

he’d jerk off whenever he got the chance, more than once a day, in fact. religiously so in the shower, it was a must — or else he would find it more difficult to manage himself around you.

sometimes he’d watch you breastfeed the baby and secretly sneak into the bathroom midway through it to rub one out, because if he didn’t — he’d bust right then and there. but can you blame him? you looked so maternal, so ungodly and unapologetically beautiful. the way you hissed whenever the baby sucked too hard on your nipple made him wish it was him dragging those sounds out of you…

fuck. he was becoming a freak again.

there were nights when he would wake up, as hard as a rock, and watch you sleep while fisting himself in the spot next to you in bed. he would be careful not to wake you when pushing the cleavage of your gown down, just enough to take your breasts out. he’d peck you softly on the nipples and that would inevitably and always lead to him uncontrollably unloading himself inside his palm. sometimes he would make a mess of the bedsheets, other times — of your nightgown.

“shit— if simply touching your skin does this to me, then i don’t want to think what will happen to me the second i slide it in”, he’d curse under his nose while washing off in the bathroom. “fuck. i miss you, baby”, he’d brush a hand over his face. “look what you made of me…”, and he would get hard all over again, just because for a split second he thought of being inside you.

luckily, you soon started dropping subtle hints of desiring him — initiating longer morning kisses, biting your lower lip and giving him the look whenever he walked out of the shower, saying his name in that same sweet voice with an undertone of fake innocence you would use in the past every time you wanted him to do things to you, rubbing his chest as you cuddled in bed or on the couch, sometimes your hand would slide a bit lower down his abdomen… but, that was it.

satoru never saw past the pearly gates, because his sweet angel of a baby would always start crying in the most inappropriate of times, as if on purpose.

“you go — i don’t want to face my daughter with a boner”, he’d whine, and you’d chuckle.

he loved his daughter more than anything, but he was genuinely bummed out and he had to do something about it.

one afternoon, after you fed the baby and left her in the care of your husband to go and take a shower, satoru put his daughter in the crib and leaned over with a serious expression of a parent about to lecture their misbehaving kid.

“listen, little miss, because we have a problem”

the baby chuckles in response.

“…and apparently, you know it”, satoru snorts. “but listen here, i know you love mama and you want her all to yourself. but what about papa?”, he pouts. “papa loves her too and wants her all to himself, at least once a day, but you’re not giving him a chance here. it’s not like i am asking for an entire day, just stay put for 15 minutes — 15 minutes is all i am asking for. deal?”

his daughter lets out another sweet chuckle.

“i’ll take that as a yes”, he caresses her cheek before leaving the room with the baby monitor in hand to join you in the shower.

finally. it was happening.

he stripped out of his clothes and walked into the bathroom, placing the baby monitor on the sink countertop before stepping into the shower cabin, letting the hot stream wash down his body as he reached for you.

“hello, beautiful”

“oh—“, you jolt. “you’re here? but what about the ba—"

“shh—“, he puts a finger on your lips, his free hand snaking around your waist to pull you close. “don’t worry, she’s fine. if something happens, we’ll know it from the baby monitor — so just relax”

you smile against his fingertip and softly peck it before sucking it in between your lips. his cock, already hard and squished between your naked bodies, throbs with a powerful twitch. a low growl rolls out of his mouth.

“god… i’ve missed you so much”, his hips involuntarily push against you, a desperate attempt to seek more friction by humping himself on your stomach. with how starved he was for you, he could probably finish just from this. but he wanted to take it slow and savor every second.

“it’s been so long, isn’t it?”

he nods. “i thought i was going to die”

you laugh. “you’re exaggerating”

“i am not… i never thought our tiny little angel could be such a huge devilish cockblock”

“you shouldn’t speak like that about our kid”, you snort.

“but it’s true. she’s a sly one, and obviously she’s obsessed with you”, he pouts.

“i wonder who she took it from…”

“she’s going to cause me a lot of trouble, isn’t she? but maybe, if we gave her a friend, she wouldn’t feel as lonely. maybe then, we’d get to have more alone time — like this. what do you think?”

“she’s too young for a pet, satoru. you know that”

he laughs. “i didn’t mean a pet, sweetheart. but we can get that too at some point”

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

“i hate you” reader x “you don’t feel like you do” simon riley

౨ৎ⠀ׄ⠀. ━ hate sex with simon riley, where your words don’t seem to match your body’s reaction

cw: vaginal sex, degradation, asshole! simon

simon was a cocky man, especially when he managed to turn you into a moaning mess.

“knew sum dick would jus’ turn yer lil attitude around.”

his ego swelled as a moan left your swollen lips, tears streaming down your face as your nails dug into his back, marking it.

“this doesn’t change anything, you’re still an asshole,” your breaths coming out in short and ragged pants as you tried to catch your breath.

simon felt his cock chub at your attitude.

“keep tellin’ y’self that birdie, but yer lil cunnie is sayin’ quite the opposite.”

your attitude filled his desire to wreck you even more, to destroy the pretty little ego of yours.

his cock plunged deep, each thrust hard and calculated as your gummy walls clenched around him, stretched out obscenely like it could barely take him.

“she’s a desperate one i tell ya.”

despite the copious amounts of time you spent telling him to go “fuck himself”, you seemed to enjoy helping him out.

“for a girl sayin’ how much she hates me, yer cunt seems to be a gushing mess.”

his thumb would rub your sensitive clit, abusing the nerve as he watched you whine and shake under him, completely at his mercy.

god he was having fun.

throughout the night he spent his time torturing you, slowly exploring every inch of your body as he found new ways to make you scream.

another finger shoved up your cunt making the stretch burn slightly whilst he spat in your mouth, cleansing it from all the filth you spat onto him.

his large tatted hand wrapped around your throat squeezing the sides gently, whilst the other hand was wrapped around your sides, pulling you flush against him as he thrusted deep inside you.

“after this yer gonna come begging for more, gonna ruin every man for you.”

watching you come on his cock was pure bless, the usual sharp remarks that came from your mouth gone as you moaned loudly, your throat sore from the screaming.

he never thought that the girl who was always talking about what an asshole he was, would also be the girl whose cunt was milking him dry.

“this lil cunnie knows where home is yeah?”

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