#and as someone who does not feel any intense anything about T

[lover-of-mine]

What makes me ???? the most is that how part of the fandom went from "Buck needs to be single for a while" (last season and during the hiatus) to "yay he's going to be canon bi! but he needs to explore lots of things, let him flirt and enjoy himself" to now having some of them asking for his relationship with T be long term ??? like, where did the need for him to be single go to??

(and i also saw people wanting them to be endgame and accusing others to not want them together because of buddie, but i really need to know what's the difference between people wanting his first relationship with a man to be endgame and people who wanted buddie to be together first and endgame 🤷‍♀️)

Anon, I could kiss you (if you want of course). Buck doesn't need a relationship. He didn't need one with Natalia and he still hasn't shown any growth that shows he is ready for a relationship now. I will give him points for actually trying to talk to Tommy after he left but Buck hasn't shown any real growth. Buck needs to learn to be okay with himself and he hasn't. A man is not gonna fix him. And I have been saying that neither Buck or Eddie are ready for each other, Buck is still not ready for a long term relationship now. And it is the exact same people that were screaming crying throwing up about Natalia and how Buck shouldn't date her and how he didn't need a relationship that are saying Buck and Tommy need to be endgame (misogyny and racism much). Tommy is very much still the hamster wheel. Granted a hamster wheel that might get Buck to do some soul searching and actually get him somewhere but he is still in his usual patterns. And honestly, I don't see the difference from wanting Buck and Eddie to be each other's firsts to wanting bucktommy to be endgame. It is all locking their queer journeys into one person. I'm not on the buddie ship only because I wanted to see Oliver Stark make out with a guy. The last thing I'm thinking about is their gender. They have a compelling relationship that could be beautiful if evolved to more and the fact that it would be a queer relationship makes it even better because we don't get that type of rep but I don't want a queer relationship for the sake of watching a queer relationship. Buck being bi is about Buck. It's another piece of the puzzle he's been trying to complete his whole life. But jumping into the deep end is not gonna give him what he needs. With anyone. I've been saying for a year that Buck doesn't need a relationship he needs a therapist and that's still true.

[stnkiconverse]

Hii :3 could I have sum of the creep boys (Ej, Toby, Jeff, Masky and Hoodie) with a reader who likes marking (bites/cuts/hickeys) their thighs? Pls and thank u 💛

This has been collecting dust in my drafts for months, im so sorry bby, i just needed to have my masky and hoodie headcanons in place before posting this😭😭

Also- Ik you said thighs, but i did mention some other places, i hope you don’t mind :3

E Y E L E S S J A C K

Jack is surprisingly unbothered by your habit. He views it with a mix of curiosity and amusement, often analyzing your techniques silently. (like this = 🤨)

"Hmm. Is this an attempt at branding? Or is this just for fun?" His DRY ASS humor makes it hard to tell if he's teasing or genuinely questioning.

He’s not fond of pain but does not shy from it either. The marks don't bother him, they heal faster than you think anyway.

If you center the attack on his thighs, he'll arch a brow and say something quick and sarcastic, like, "I'm honored you've chosen me as your personal canvas."

Jack has super sharp senses, so he's super aware of your touch. If you bite or leave cuts near sensitive spots, hips, or neck, for example, he might tense for a moment but never stop you.

His favorite places for you to mark? His shoulders or his ribs. He finds the sensation grounding in a strange way, though he'll never admit it. (he moaned once)

If you tease him about it, he'll deadpan: "Just don't expect me to reciprocate. My claws aren't…delicate." (😏)

T I C C I T O B Y

Toby is a little awkward about it at first, not used to someone being so physically affectionate in such an intense way. But once he gets used to it? He's all in. (fucking weirdo 😒 / lovingly)

He doesn't actually feel pain like others do, (obv) so he lets you go wild without flinching. "You're gonna have to try harder than that to leave a mark on me," he'd tease, looking down later to grin at the faint bruises or bites.

If you target his thighs, he might giggle a bit, kicking his leg. "That tickles, stop- stop!"

Neck and collarbone marks fluster him the most. He'll try to hide them with his hoodie but secretly love that they're there.

Sometimes, he'll encourage you in his chaotic way: "Oh, you missed a spot. Try here!" and point to random places like his back or ribs, sometimes even shoving his wrists in your face 😭😭

If you ever leave too many marks, he'll grin like a maniac and joke: "Guess I'm your chew toy now, huh?"

J E F F T H E K I L L E R

Jeff would be cocky about it, but secretly flustered. He'd smirk and say something snarky like, "Didn't know you were that desperate to get your hands on me," but the redness creeping up his neck gives him away.

He doesn't mind pain and might even enjoy it a little. If you bite too hard, he'll laugh and go, "Is that all you've got? You're gonna have to try harder."

Loves when you leave marks on his neck, it makes him feel a twisted sense of pride. He'll strut around the manor like a smug idiot, showing them off.

His thighs are a sensitive spot, though he won't admit it. If you target them, he'll squirm slightly and mutter, "Don't get any ideas..." but he won't stop you. (bcs he likes it 😏)

If you leave cuts or scratches, he'll trace them with his fingers absentmindedly, secretly loving the way they look.

"You're turning me into your personal art project, huh? Not that I'm complaining."

T I M / M A S K Y

Masky (Tim)

Tim is not immediately comfortable it, especially if it's in a more vulnerable spot like his neck or inner thighs. He'll tense up and grumble, "What are you doing?" but he won't push you away :3

Over time, he warms up to it, especially when he realizes it's your way of showing affection. He won't admit it, but he finds it oddly reassuring :p

Marks on his shoulders or upper back are his favorite. He won't say anything, but you might catch him subtly glancing at them in the mirror (😏)

If you bite too hard, he'll sigh and mutter, "You know I have to cover that up, right?" while pulling on another layer of clothing (i love him guys)

Surprisingly, he doesn't mind if you mark his thighs when he's sitting or lounging. He might roll his eyes but secretly enjoys the attention.

"You're a little too into this, you know that?" he'd say with the tiniest smirk, though the faint blush on his face betrays him.

B R I A N / H O O D I E

Hoodie (Brian)

Brian is surprisingly chill about your habit and takes it in stride :D

He'll joke, "Do I look like a notebook to you? Or is this some modern art thing?"

He's not huge on pain, so if you bite too hard or draw blood, he might flinch and gently push you away. "Careful, I'm not indestructible."

Loves when you leave hickeys or gentle bites on his shoulders or chest. He finds them oddly comforting and will trace them when he's alone, smiling softly.

If you go for his thighs, he'll laugh and tease you: "That's bold. Didn't take you for a thigh person."

Occasionally, he'll play along and say something like, "You missed a spot," pointing to random areas just to see you flustered.

Brian enjoys the possessive nature of your markings but is too reserved to admit it outright.

Instead, he'll say something teasing like, "Guess I'm yours now, huh?"

I hope this was good enough!! :D

sorry to keep you waiting so long 😭

[gudfornuthin]

Hate is a strong word

Dae ho x gn!reader

Summary: you’re not easily annoyed, but player 388 has been getting on your nerves. Is it hate, or something more intense?

A/N: I want to preface☝🏻I’m not good at writing anything too smutty. I’ve tried my best and hope you all enjoy but yeah this is as far as smut goes for me lmao. Based on this and this request. Feedback is appreciated :)

You hate his guts. Player 388 (you don’t care enough to learn his name) has made it his mission to piss you off any chance he gets. The very first game. Tripping you over. Bumping into your back causing you to almost get killed. Apparently both times were accidents. Then it seemed to get more personal.

He acts surprised and mad that you pass the second game. Rolling his eyes and slow clapping. Hitting your shoulder with his whenever you walk by to vote or get food. You can’t even think about ‘mingle’ without wanting to punch someone. He made it incredibly clear that the group he was in was not picking you. They needed an extra person? No chance, as he does his best to block you from the other players.

You want to confront him about it all. In general, he seemed like a reasonable guy. To everyone else at least. Very polite, enthusiastic and willing to get to know people better. Except for you. There was a target on your back, and player 388 was aiming right for it. Two can play at that game.

It’s late, and you’re in the bathroom leaning over the sink and splashing some water on your face. Like most people, the games have been getting to you mentally, and the only time you have a chance to think is when everyone else is asleep.

Unfortunately, the door opens, forcing you out of your moment of peace. You turn and see the smiling face of the man who’s been causing you trouble.

“Fantastic,” you huff and mumble under your breath.

He spots you by the sinks, the smile on his face quickly dropping. “Oh. Didn’t realise there was anyone else in here.”

“Just needed some time by myself to think,” you respond, hoping he’ll leave the conversation at that.

He doesn’t, as he moves and enters one of the stalls, his voice now slightly muffled. “Why? You ready to give up?”

You ignore him, knowing he’s trying to get a rise out of you. It’s not worth it. Don’t give him what he wants.

Player 388 exits the stall, walking over to the sinks and washing his hands. “If I were you I’d give up. Someone like you will never make it to the end.”

You finally snap. “Alright,” you back up from the sinks, glaring at the back of his head. “Have I done something to piss you off?”

Player 388 turns around, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. He shrugs, looking shocked as if he didn’t expect the confrontation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” you respond. “Since the first game it’s like you’ve had a vendetta against me. For what?”

Player 388 doesn’t say anything, almost lost for words. He shifts uncomfortably, looking you up and down several times. You’re still unsure of his reasons, why he may have formed a dislike for you. But if he wants to get under your skin, then you’ll have to go deeper.

You move closer to where he stands. “Oh I get it now,” he looks up. “You’re threatened.”

“Am not,” he says, sounding like an angry child.

You shake your head, staring at him in the most patronising way you can. “You definitely are. Ex marine, acting all tough, wanting the respect he so desperately craves.”

You can tell your words are getting to him, as his nostrils flare and his brow furrows. You carry on talking.

“You see someone like me, doing just as if not better than you. Braver, stronger, more resilient. It kills you.”

You’ve moved closer, now toe to toe. You can practically feel his breath on your face.

“All that training, and deep down you’re still that terrified little bitch that had to join the marines because you weren’t good enough for anything else.”

Thump!

Player 388’s fist slams right into your jaw, knocking you sideways. You’re shocked, grabbing the side of your face and feeling a painful throbbing. You look up at player 388, a similar expression on his face.

“Oh shit-”

He doesn’t have time to say much else before you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist and pushed him to the ground. You both yell out as you crawl on top of him, throwing punch after punch, hoping one will hit. It feels messy and awkward, and you can already feel the bruises forming all over your body, but this was the breaking point.

You continue hitting player 388, your hips bucking slightly from him writhing underneath you. He lets out a small moan, loud enough for you to hear. You still, as the pair of you look at each other with shock. You move your hips harder this time, another moan coming from player 388.

“Does this turn you on?” You whisper, leaning down closer to his face. “Me beating the shit out of you, or me sitting on you like this?”

You move once more, player 388 now moving his hands to rest on your legs, halting your back and forth rocking. You can already feel something hard poking at your inner thigh, instead taking your hand and moving it to the space in between you. Pressing down, he whines, as you stroke over the fabric of his pants.

Your mouth is hovering over his, as you smirk slightly. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?”

Player 388 nods his head rapidly, as you lean down and kiss him, teeth clashing and lips devouring each other. The taste of blood falls on your tongue, not sure if it’s from the make out session or the aftermath of punching him until he bled. You can’t believe this is how things turned out. Not that you’re one to complain.

Your hand moves into his pants, gripping him strongly and continuing the stroking motion. Player 388 tries to grab your hips, but you swat him away with your other hand.

“Put your hands above your head,” you say in between kisses.

He does so, as your free hand follows them up and grabs both his wrists. You hold them in place as you pump his shaft, his none stop whining rumbling from his throat.

“Pl-please,” player 388 whimpers. “I n-need to-”

You pump him faster now, not letting him say anything else. “You wanna cum?”

Tears well up in his eyes, as your kisses trail down from his mouth to his neck. His legs are shaking and he tries desperately to move his hips higher, thrusting his member further into your hand. You’re both breathless, and you can tell player 388 is reaching his limit.

Just as he’s about to release into ecstasy, you quickly pull both your hands away, leaning back and staring down at him. He lets out a shocked gasp, raising his head as best as he can to look at you. He looks lost and you smile.

“This was fun,” you say, standing up and towering over his body. “I’m sure you can finish without me.”

You can’t help but laugh, as you slowly walk out of the bathroom, looking back briefly to see his disheveled and angry expression piercing into your figure. You still hate his guts, but he definitely hates yours more now.

- - -

Taglist:

@h3ll0k1ttyx @ivanttier @shewanfsrevenge @sugalump3d

(Sorry if it didn’t tag everyone)

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 30 - Yandere!Fallen Angel!Seonghwa + Somnophilia & Body Worship

Anonymous Said: Seonghwa from ateez. Consensual Somnophilia & Body worship. Yandere & fallen angel or guardian angel. A/n: I am SO sorry that this is late, life has just been a bit hectic lately. Again, it's Hwa, so I couldn't help myself. It's not as long as I was originally going to make it, but I like where it ends honestly. He's intense in the best ways imo, and I do really love how this turned out. I also have a yandere angel ateez series planned at some point where Hwa is an archangel, so I'm also really excited about that. It's heavily inspired by his Will To Power solo stage, so I hope you all can look forward to that at some point! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Possession, Monster Features, Yandere, Blood mentioned in brief (not in a kinky way), Lots of religious metaphors, Overstimulation, Oral (fem. rec), Fingering (fem. rec), Squirting, Minor Dacryphilia (if you squint), There's a lot :) Word Count: 4,821 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

Park Seonghwa is a man of many emotions.

Well… technically he’s not a man, but there is no one in this universe that makes him feel more human than you. 

There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you. You are his one saving grace in this hellish landscape called earth, and he will do anything to protect that fact. No one is off limits. Nothing is too much. For when it comes to you, you deserve nothing but the best this world has to offer. 

His best. 

Seonghwa will always make sure of that.

The water feels cool against his skin despite the steam rising through the air. One of his hands is braced against the stone tiles of the shower wall, letting the flow of water cascade down his back and pool around the drain. Red streaks against his skin, little rivulets creating vein-like patterns across his figure as he washes away the horrific events of the evening.

You can never know. You will never know. 

Seonghwa has spent his whole life guarding those most precious to him. Now, you’re the only thing left that matters.

You. Who still sleeps soundly beneath the thick covers of his duvet as he steps out of the bathroom a short while later. Your features rest in a soft expression of pure bliss, chest rising and falling steadily. The light of the moon only serves to make your skin glow, illuminating every inch of you that he has always loved more than anything else in this godforsaken world.

A pleased smile tugs at his lips, eyes shining with nothing but adoration as he observes you through the dark. Lightly, he fluffs his damp hair with the towel held in his hand, the one wrapped around his waist hanging dangerously low. Small droplets of water cascade down his chest which he is quick to wipe away.

After all, you’re expecting him to join you, and he hates to keep you waiting.

With his lips curling upwards into that all too familiar loving smile, he takes a step towards the bed. Large, fluffy wings emerge from his back, deep red in colour. As he fluffs the feathers lightly, he lets the towel fall from his waist. The other is quick to join the growing heap on the floor, knowing you’ll more than likely scold him in the morning for tossing the damp material in the middle of the room.

Sometimes, Seonghwa swears he does these types of things on purpose just to hear you scold him. The way you shake your head in exasperation, muttering about whatever it is he’s done this time makes him all giddy inside. It means you’re paying attention to him. It means you care.

Or maybe he just enjoys making things up to you in any and every way he can.

A massage here. Breakfast in bed there. Perhaps even you allowing him to get lost in that glorious heat that rests between your legs, making you shake in uncontrollable bliss.

After all, it is one of his absolute favourite pastimes.

Seonghwa thought he knew what it meant to worship something, or someone, wholeheartedly. That is, until he met you.

All of the time in the world is still too short of an eternity to be spent with you by his side.

The stars pale in comparison to you, for you hold entire galaxies in your eyes. Your smile warms his very soul each and every time he sees that glorious expression stretch across your face. All music sounds dull whenever the melodic symphony of your laughter filters through the air. Not to mention how strong and intelligent you are. 

Kind, witty, caring… The list of your perfections continues to grow everyday, and everyday he knows you is a blessing beyond his wildest dreams. Seonghwa could spend hours lost within the confines of your mind, learning everything there is to know about you, and so much more. Each new discovery is a revelation of the highest regard, and he strives to satisfy in every way.

Every word you speak is gospel, and he is your most devout follower.

Lifting the covers gently, Seonghwa slides into bed beside you. He’s extra careful to not disturb you, not wanting to accidentally wake you at this time. Still, he cannot help but shift closer, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. The way you subconsciously turn into him, snuggling deeper into his embrace only serves to make him smile.

Even in your dreams, you always know how to find your way home. To him.

Subtly, his arms tighten around you, placing a tender kiss to the top of your head. His wings wrap around you, encasing you in a soft red cocoon and ensuring your safety. Your comfort and wellbeing are his number one priorities, and once he knows you’re settled in his embrace, he fully allows himself to relax. 

Soon, his own eyes are fluttering shut, drifting off to meet you inside of your dreams.

A few hours later, Seonghwa is blinking awake. His head now rests on top of your chest, your arms cradling him to you in your sleep. 

Despite such a short bout of rest, he feels refreshed, having slept deeper with you safely wrapped in his arms. Gladly, he melts into your embrace, breathing in your scent and letting everything you completely surround him.

The moon still rests high in the sky, a gentle breeze drifting through the slight crack in the open window. The room is quiet, nothing but the soft sounds of your mingling breaths filling the space.

Seonghwa holds you tighter. Turning his head, his lips press tenderly against your chest, just above your heart. His hair tickles your skin, and you shiver lightly from his touch.

Peeking his dark gaze upwards, Seonghwa studies your features. Your brow seems to be furrowed slightly in discomfort, and a moment later, you squirm lightly beneath him. Your nails suddenly dig into the skin of his shoulders, a soft, muffled whimper escaping your lips.

Worry tugs at his features as he reaches a hand up to soothe your brow. He’s quick to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently over your skin as he lifts himself slightly above you. Intently, he studies your face, searching for any signs of what may be the problem.

That’s when it hits him. You must be having a nightmare.

Just as he shifts his hand to your shoulder in attempts to wake you up, you let out a sound that has him freezing above you.

His name. You moan his name.

A smug grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he realizes what’s really going on here. Pride swells in his chest at the fact that he could make you dream of him like this, knowing how often he dreams of you. What serves to make this moment ever better is when you let out another small whimper, tightening your hands on his shoulders as your hips jerk upwards against his own.

“Pretty Girl,” His low voice purrs out. “What could you possibly be dreaming of, hmm?”

Cocking his head to the side, he stares down at you. His chest is pressed flush against your own, forearms supporting him on either side of you as he settles more comfortably between your legs.

Leaning into you, he begins to place soft kisses against your cheek. Slowly, he trails his lips down your jawline, tracing over your pulse, then back up again. All the while, that same smirk tugs at his features.

His nose nudges tenderly against your jaw.

“Why live in a fantasy when I can make all of your dreams a reality?”

More kisses are placed upon the skin of your neck as he slowly begins to make his way down your body. His touch is feather light, wings twitching excitedly in the air behind him as he tugs your shirt down gently. The straps of your tank top easily slide down your arms, and with a quick movement, he’s snapping them as if they were nothing but brittle string.

The sound of tearing fabric echoes around the room as he shreds through your shirt, pausing lightly to check on you. He forgot how loud that could be, his mind having been focussed on exposing you to the most pleasure that he can give you. Of course, that meant exposing you, but he doesn’t want to wake you from your blissful slumber quite yet.

Not even his chest rises or falls with breath as he hovers above you, watching you closely for any signs of movement. After a little while passes with your eyes still shut, steady breathing and soft whimpers still falling from you, he breathes a sigh of relief.

Slowly, carefully, he discards your shirt, hands beginning to trace over your sides. His touch is gentle, eyes taking in every bare inch of skin presented to him. Nothing but admiration shines in his gaze, a dark, primal sort of lust hiding within. He’s hoping beyond anything to have you smoothly transition from your dream into reality. For when you do, he’ll be ready and waiting with open arms.

There is nothing more rewarding to him than your pleasure. The fact that he alone is the only one able to bring you to such ecstasy makes his heart swell with so much love and pride within his chest. Only he can touch you like this. Only he lives to serve you, to make you see the far reaches of the heavens each time your eyes flutter shut in bliss. Your pleasure is his pleasure, and he could spend eternity worshipping you, all while making you scream his name.

Ever so gently, he presses his face against your chest, right in the valley of your breasts. His hands come up to cup such tender flesh, inhaling deeply as he nuzzles against you. Again, his lips press a tender kiss directly over your heart, wings fluttering in content as his thumbs tease over your nipples.

Fingers trace languidly against your skin, needing to feel every inch of you beneath his touch. Slowly, Seonghwa begins trailing feather light kisses down your body, heart fluttering in anticipation. Every second that passes, your scent becomes stronger, your thighs subconsciously squeezing around his sides. He knows you need him just as desperately as he needs you, and he does not want to waste any more time than he already has.

Reaching the hemline of your sleep shorts, Seonghwa dips the tips of his fingers beneath the band. A tender kiss is placed onto the skin of your stomach, nose nudging against you affectionately. The corner of his lips quirks upwards as he slowly begins tugging your shorts down your thighs, being extra cautious not to wake you.

Of course, Seonghwa cannot help himself. How can he when he has the most perfect being laid out before him? Temptation wins out as he presses loving kisses against your thighs with each inch revealed to him. Once he fully removes your shorts, he nearly lets out a low moan when the sight of your bare pussy, needy and already shimmering with your arousal, is presented to him.

Tossing your shorts somewhere in the room, Seonghwa is quick to run his hands up the length of your legs. His fingers ghost against your skin, breathing deepening as your scent completely immerses him in everything you. Once he reaches the tops of your thighs, his thumbs begin to softly brush against the sensitive flesh. The way you shiver beneath his touch, even while still asleep, makes him smile.

Again, he leans into you, pressing delicate kisses against the skin of your thighs. His teeth graze your flesh, teasing at you as he continues to brush his thumbs over you.

Every little sound you make, every twitch and shudder of your body, has his cock absolutely throbbing against the mattress. A carnal ache resides within him. A desperation only you can satiate. Yet, when it comes to you, he always wants more.

Finally, unable to wait even a moment longer, Seonghwa presses his face against your cunt. He noses along your slit, inhaling deeply as his whole body shudders from your scent. Teasingly, his tongue flicks out to taste you, and even the briefest touch of your arousal on his lips has him moaning shamelessly against your core.

Something within himself snaps. 

With his whole body shaking in need, Seonghwa buries himself deep in your cunt. Desperate, guttural moans escape him as he drags his tongue through your folds, eagerly suckling at the sweet nectar that flows from between your legs. His lips place a few chaste kisses against your clit before he’s wrapping them around such a sensitive little bud, suckling at you eagerly.

His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head, tongue flattening against your clit before rolling in circles. His hot breath hits your cunt with every exhale, wings fluttering above him as he groans lowly. Desperately, his hands tighten over your waist, pulling you even closer into his touch.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest once he feels your fingers tangle in his hair. The way you hold him to your cunt, tugging him in closer has him redoubling his efforts over you.

Heavy breathing permeates the room, your hips beginning to grind against his face in time with his movements. Sleep still clings to the corners of your vision, eyes barely cracked open to peer at him through the darkness. Each flick of his tongue over your clit has pleasant jolts of pure ecstasy coursing through your veins, already feeling so close to the edge as that familiar pressure builds within.

His movements are desperate, shaking his head back and forth while sucking your clit between his lips. Sharp, hooded eyes glint up at you through the shadows, his hips beginning to grind against the mattress as his fingers dig into your skin.

Again, he tugs you in impossibly closer, tongue slipping down to dip between your folds. Swirling the muscle around your entrance, he hums, pressing himself firmer into your cunt. His nose grinds against your clit, tongue buried as deep as possible within you as he licks and sucks almost uncontrollably.

The sound of your moans create a beautiful symphony around him, urging him on. He can tell you’re close. The way your thighs begin to shake around his head makes his cock twitch. His hips grind harder against the mattress, silently begging for you to fall apart with him as he brings you to ecstasy.

Wrapping his lips around your clit once more, it’s like you answer his every prayer.

Back arching from the bed, you come with a loud cry of his name. Your thighs squeeze around his head, holding him in place as he flattens his tongue against you, letting you ride out your orgasm as you grind your hips against him. Whimpers and moans echo alongside blissful sighs of his name, your heart racing as pleasure floods your veins.

The moment he feels you flooding his tongue, his eyes roll into the back of his head. With your thighs closing around his head, his pleased cries get muffled against your cunt as he comes with you. Hot spurts of his come soak into the sheets beneath his hips, fingers digging harshly into your skin. His wings flare out behind him, shuddering along with his whole body as he keeps himself buried against you.

Slowly, you begin to catch your breath.

Bringing your one hand up, you rub at your face. Blinking a few times to clear your vision, you spare a glance at the seraphim between your legs.

Dark eyes already stare up at you lovingly, a soft chuckle shaking his chest. His fingers smooth over your skin, leaning in once more to place a tender kiss against your clit.

“Good morning, My Beloved.” At the way you simply groan in response, a knowing smile begins to tug at his lips. “Good dream?”

“Mmmh, the best…” Humming, you rub lightly at your eyes. A moment later, you pause in your movements, brow furrowing slightly as you take in just how dark the room still is. “What time is it?”

Seonghwa, who has begun placing tender kisses along the skin of your thighs once more, smiles up at you from between your legs. “Not yet dawn.”

You stretch lightly, brushing a hand over your forehead as you take a deep breath in. “What time did you get in last night? I didn’t hear you come home.”

That single, simple word makes him smile, heart warming inside of his chest.

“Not that long ago.” He noses along your thigh, drifting closer and closer to your core with each movement. “I’m glad my return didn’t wake you. Though, it was a treat seeing you wearing those Tweety Bird pyjama shorts I got you.”

Your face flares with heat, averting your gaze to the side.

“They’re comfy.” You mumble, the cutest of pouts tugging at your lips.

Seonghwa chuckles, a soft expression resting on his features as he admires every inch of you before him. The way your fingers lightly begin to play with some strands of his hair has him leaning into your touch.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest, hands caressing over the sides of your thighs and up your hips. Lightly, his gaze flicks downwards, shifting between staring into your eyes before glancing hungrily at your dripping cunt.

“Beloved…”

The desperate moan Seonghwa lets out goes straight to your core, causing you to clench around nothing. A movement of which he eagerly catches.

“Yes, Seonghwa?”

A shiver caresses his spine as you coo his name so tenderly.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“More.” His voice trembles in need as his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He pulls your closer, chest beginning to rise and fall dramatically as he stares, transfixed, at your weeping cunt. “Give me more.”

“Greedy little angel…” You chuckle, tracing your fingers over the side of his cheek. “Don’t you know that gluttony is a sin?”

“But I made a mess, Beloved.” Wide eyes peer up at you, a dark lust swirling behind the guise of innocence. “A beautiful, intoxicating mess. It’s only right that I clean you up.”

“You can’t fool me, Angel.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards in amusement, eyes shining as you peer down at him. “I know you only want to clean me up just so you can make a mess out of me again.”

A pout tugs at his features, eyebrows drooping dramatically. “But I love making a mess out of you.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, then.” You smile, gently brushing some hair out of his eyes. “I love it, too.”

Seonghwa does not need to be told twice.

Without wasting another second, his tongue is back on you. This time, his movements are a lot slower. More precise. No drop is to go to waste. He wants to take his time, letting you feel every ounce of his love and passion for you. He wants you to know just how much he desires you, and just how much he enjoys this.

Pleased hums escape him as he drags his tongue through your folds, laving his mouth over your entire pussy. Dark eyes lock onto your own as he suckles and licks at your cunt, wings fluttering lightly in the air. His hands creep up your sides, touch trailing against your skin as he shifts to cup your breasts. He pinches at your nipples, rolling the pert buds between his fingers before tugging at them gently.

A low moan parts your lips, arching into his touch. Almost immediately, your hands come up to cover his own, pressing them firmer against your breasts. The content rumble that shakes his chest goes straight to your core, clenching around his tongue as he buries the muscle into your tight cunt.

Curling his tongue, his nose brushes tenderly against your clit. He pinches at your nipples once more, squeezing the flesh of your breasts appreciatively. As your hips begin to grind against him, he smirks. Humming contently, Seonghwa shifts to wrap his lips back around that sensitive little bundle of nerves, suckling lightly before flicking his tongue against you.

Soft moans and whimpers slip passed your lips, fingers returning to his hair to pull him in closer. Your whole body feels as if it’s floating, completely relaxing beneath his touch as pleasure courses through your veins. 

Everything about him is sinful. From the way his dark eyes shine beneath the light of the moon, captivating you in their loving, lustful pools. To the way his hands trace over your skin, burning multiple paths of desire, comfort, safety, and fulfillment all at the same time. You cannot count the amount of times he’s lost himself in you using just his tongue, and you know that tonight is no exception.

Your heart swells with nothing but love as he reaches out for your free hand. Almost instantly, he’s intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently. 

He’s right here, and he always will be.

Using his opposite hand, he parts your folds with two fingers. His tongue licks a long strip up your cunt before flattening over your clit. Now that he’s opened you completely to him, there is nothing in the way for him to be able to give you the most pleasure that he can.

A deep groan reverberates against you, hot breaths hitting your cunt with every exhale.

“Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had the pleasure to worship.” A tender kiss is placed upon your clit. “Perfect, delectable little cunt… Only one I’ll ever want. Only one I’ll ever need.”

Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, thighs shaking from his words. Your fingers tighten in his hair, squeezing his hand in your own as you whimper his name.

“That’s it, Beloved,” He coos, bumping his nose against your clit affectionately. “Say my name. Scream my name to the heavens and tell them who your eternal servant is. Tell them who it always will be. In this life, and the next. For all eternity.”

Your whole body begins to tremble as he wraps his lips around your clit, gently suckling on that sensitive little bundle of nerves. He purposely keeps you suspended in bliss, teetering right on the edge as he watches your whole being flood with ecstasy.

Pride fills his chest at how you whimper and whine for him, your hips desperately rolling against his tongue as he teases at your cunt.

“Tell me, Beloved,” A harsh suck is given to your clit, his eyes flashing as he locks gazes with you. “Who does such a delectable pussy belong to?”

All that you can manage is a desperate moan, chest heaving as that building pressure becomes almost unbearable within you. You can feel your clit practically pulsating, beginning to clench rhythmically around nothing.

“Who’s pretty pussy am I allowed to worship? To devour?”

“Seonghwa-“

“Say it.” Dark eyes flash beneath the moonlight, tone sharp as he growls lowly. “Come on, Pretty Girl. I want to hear you say it.”

Your breath hitches, nearing choking on a whine. Squeezing your eyes shut at the pleasure overwhelming your every nerve, you attempt to steady your shaking form. Taking a deep breath in, you go to speak.

However, the moment the words begin to form on your lips, Seonghwa wraps his own back around your clit, sucking harshly.

“Fuck-“ Inhaling sharply, your eyes fly open. Your voice borders on a scream as you just manage to choke out, “My pretty pussy is all yours to devour-“

Your words get caught in your throat as another loud curse escapes you, tossing your head back onto the pillows.

Seonghwa snarls against your cunt, shaking his head back and forth rapidly as he eagerly continues to suck at your clit. His hands tighten over you, pulling you impossibly closer as his wings flare out behind him.

A scream of his name tears from your throat, whole body shaking as your back arches from the bed. Your orgasm crashes into you unforgivingly, feet lifting slightly in the air from the intensity. Desperate whines and moans of his name escape you, clenching around nothing as your release floods out of you.

Only, Seonghwa doesn’t stop there.

Your cries of ecstasy only serve to spur him on as he slides the two fingers he had been using to spread your pussy open for him into your cunt. The feeling of your walls sucking him in, squeezing around his digits so delicately makes him groan. A shudder wracks his whole body, eyes closing briefly in bliss as his cock throbs against the sheets. Already he’s so close to coming again, but first, he needs to see you falling apart for him again. Because of him.

With practiced ease, he curls his fingers right up against that special spot inside of you. His tongue flicks at your clit, placing delicate kisses against that sensitive little bud before sucking harshly at it once more. The lewd, wet slurping sounds of his tongue on your cunt fill the room, only serving to make him even more feral than he already is.

High pitched moans escape you, tears of pleasure beginning to line your eyes as your whole body shakes beneath his hold. Your thighs squeeze around his head, not even deterring him in the slightest as you wither and whine. Every little touch makes your head spin, pleasure overwhelming your every sense.

You both wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Fuck- Seonghwa!” You gasp out, eyes squeezing shut as you practically curl into his touch. “Don’t stop-“ A catch in your breath as you cling to him for dear life. “Please, don’t fucking stop!”

A snarl of agreement fills the air, adding more pressure to his fingers as he massages over that special spot deep inside of you. His lips never once leave your clit, hooded gaze locked on your figure and practically demanding that you to fall apart for him right now.

With one final flick over your clit, you do.

Like lightning streaking across the sky, your orgasm crackles through your veins like a flash of electricity. Another scream of his name tears from your throat, broken and desperate as you squirt all over his face. Each movement against your cunt has you shuddering beneath his touch, vision blurring at the corners as the first of your tears of pleasure begin to slide down your cheeks.

Your hold on him is like a vice, grounding yourself to him as your chest heaves with every breath. You can feel something warm and wet splatter lightly against your thighs, Seonghwa’s deep moans beginning to harmonize alongside your own.

The way you notice his wings trembling in the air through your blissful haze causes the corners of your lips to twitch upwards. Knowing he’s just as affected as you are right now makes warmth swell inside of your chest, nothing but love flooding your very soul.

Seonghwa rests his forehead tenderly against your thigh while he catches his breath. His head swims with nothing but you, overwhelmed in the best of ways. Every ounce of his desire for you flows beneath the surface of his skin, drowning him in an undeniable ecstasy that only you can bring him. Seeing you like this - your pure and unfiltered form indulging in all that he has to offer - is unlike any other sensation he has ever felt in his entire existence.

He could never tire of this.

He could never tire of you.

Sliding his fingers from your cunt while releasing his hold on your hand, Seonghwa begins trailing kisses back up your body. Each press of his lips against you is soft, taking his time to admire every contour of your body. Every dip and curve of your glorious figure is sacred to him, and he never wants you to forget how beautiful you truly are. 

How beautiful you have always been.

Finally, his lips return to your own, giving you a deep and tender kiss which conveys his undying affections for you. Soft hums are breathed out against you, Seonghwa cupping your cheek gently in one hand while he slides his opposite arm around your waist. Pulling your chest flush against his own, he settles himself comfortably between your legs.

The feeling of his cock sliding through your wet folds, already hard and aching for you once more, makes you smile.

“My insatiable Little Sinner,” You coo, threading your fingers gently through his hair.

“When it comes to you?” His lips quirk upwards against your own, eyes shining with nothing but pure devotion as he openly admires you before him. “Always.”

[spr1ngpvrinbunny]

You should totally write Harley + readers first kiss

First kiss with Harley 💋

ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕖𝕪 𝕊𝕒𝕨𝕪𝕖𝕣/𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣 (ℙ𝕣𝕖 -“𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣” 𝕍ℍ𝕊 𝕋𝕒𝕡𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘) 𝕩 ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕘𝕦𝕖!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Welp...Kissing Harley for the first time was definitely not a sweet or easy experience. He wasn't the type to take the initiative in moments like that—or if he did, it wasn't the tenderness one would typically expect.

Feeling: At first, there might be a moment of hesitation—not because he is afraid, but because he is analyzing. His sharp gaze will sweep over you, as if measuring and considering every detail. But when the distance fades, when his lips touch yours, everything will change.

Harley kisses like he lives—intensely, with a bit of restraint, but also full of things he doesn't say. At first, he was stiff, almost hesitant, as if he didn't trust this.

But then, when he realized that he wanted more than that, the kiss became deeper, full of possessiveness.

Taste: There is a hint of caffeine—he always drinks black coffee, strong and slightly bitter. Mixed in with that is a hint of something sharp and cold, like metal and ozone, like his laboratory—a place filled with machinery, reagents, and ideas that never sleep. There's also something warmer, deeper, a lingering taste that's hard to forget.

But deep inside, there is a hint of something else—not sweet, but the echo of someone who once was something... more than that.

Something that has been lost.

Lips: Not as soft as those who spend all day thinking about love. There is a slight roughness at the corners of the lips, traces of sleepless nights, days spent biting the lips in thought amidst experiments and research.

But that very roughness makes each moment of contact feel more real, more vibrant—as if it were proof that he still exists, still feels, if only for this moment.

Does he have a deep kiss?(🤨) Sure... But it's not just about passion—it's also about desire, about an unnameable obsession. And when he lets go, he will pause for a brief moment, as if he is trying to confirm that it is not a mistake.

But just a moment—because he didn't want to wait for the answer.

───── ⋆⋅✝⋅⋆ ─────

If we consider it realistically, the first time you both kissed each other was probably not an impulsive or classically romantic moment. Instead, it was a slow but inevitable collision—like an equation that both knew the answer to, but neither wanted to admit. Maybe it happened on a late night, after a long shift when both were exhausted. The unfinished reports, the cold light from the flickering screen, the smell of chemicals still lingering on the sleeves.

A small argument between the two—not quite a quarrel, but tense enough to push both into a corner from which neither could retreat.

The silence dragged on for too long, breaths mingling in the narrow gap between you.

Or maybe it happened after some incident, when an experiment almost got out of control, or when one of you got hurt.

Harley is not the type of person to easily show anxiety, but in a rare moment, he revealed his loss of control—by holding you tighter than necessary, with a cold yet confused gaze, and then his lips sought yours as a way to regain control.

Not hurried, not gentle, but an obsession to hold on.

But no matter what, it's not perfect. It could be a hesitant, rough kiss, or too intense as if both were experimenting with something you both weren't sure you all could handle. But after that moment, Harley would be the one to pull himself away, his eyes heavy as if he had just made a mistake he couldn't fix.

Bonus: I don't think he's the kind of person who speaks flowery, overly romantic words... But, have you ever imagined that after you both kiss, looking into each other's eyes, he says something like this-

"Hm you taste like the chemical formula C12H22O11."

:D

Notes: So, if you guys want to make a request or have any suggestions, my ask box is always open, anything but SMUT (I'm terrible at it... I was traumatized when I reread that damn old draft of mine), maybe spicy 16+ would be okay...

[meazalykov]

the number on my back, and in my heart

vivianne miedema x reader

requested by @jackiesunshines from her old blog

summary: a hard launch on the pitch was not expected from either of you

today is a different day. something different from the games you play for the national team and for manchester city. 

this game against the netherlands isn’t just any friendly for you. for the first time, you’ll share the pitch with viv, your manchester teammate, your girlfriend, you confidant, and the woman who’s quietly become the center of your life recently.

vivianne had joined manchester three months ago, leaving arsenal after a bunch of chaos and borderline abuse from the coach. the move had been a fresh start for her, but not an easy one. to be honest, vivianne did not want to leave arsenal at all. however, she needed to leave after no renewal was offered. 

so, when you were the first to make her feel welcomed at manchester.. well the one that was not already her dutch friends like jill and kerstin… it was no hard to catch feelings for you. 

you were steady,  and grounded, something viv needed. 

your relationship had blossomed quickly but naturally, like it was always meant to happen. vivianne was your opponent many, many times while she played at arsenal, but you would have never guessed that she would be your girlfriend at some point. 

your calmness balanced her intensity, and her quiet devotion gave you a sense of belonging you didn’t know you were missing. the two of you fit together seamlessly, even if you hadn’t said the three special words out loud yet.

standing in the locker room before the match in bingoal stadium, your heart thrums with nerves. you fiddle with the hem of your jersey, trying to shake off the weight of the occasion as sam is beside you talking about the matcha she had this morning. 

this match is just a friendly, you remind yourself through sam coffey’s talk. deep down, you know it’s more than that. it’s the first time you’ll play against vivianne as a opponent… and not with her as a teammate.

when you step onto the pitch with the captains band, as lindsey is getting rest on the bench, you try to not let your emotions show. the dutch fans are loud over your thoughts thankfully, their sea of orange vibrant against the evening sky. 

you scan the field and spot her near the center circle. even from this distance, viv is beautiful. she’s a force, her presence undeniable. 

when her gaze briefly finds yours, she offers the faintest of smiles…a shared moment you thought you would not have during this match. 

the first half is controlled. the netherlands presses hard, with viv helping their attack like the player she is. you watch her closely, both as an opponent and as someone who knows her game inside and out. 

every move she makes feels calculated, every pass precise. you can’t help but admire her, even as you work to shut her down in the mid.

at halftime, the score remains 1-1. the same player on the netherlands scoring both. in the tunnel, your eyes meet hers again and there’s a glimmer of something playful in her expression. 

she doesn’t say anything, but the corners of her mouth twitch, and you know she’s enjoying playing this match just as much as you are.

the second half brings more intensity. the netherlands pushes for the lead, and vivianne comes close to scoring twice. 

in the 86th minute, you spot lynn making a darting run down the left and thread a perfectly timed pass through the dutch defense. she takes it in stride, coolly slotting the ball past the keeper. 

2-1, usa.

when the final whistle blows, relief washes over you. it wasn’t an easy game, but it was a good one.

you make your way around the pitch, exchanging handshakes and hugs with players on both teams. when you reach viv, she’s already waiting after she handshaked with naomi, her jersey untucked and a playful smirk on her face. 

“swap?” she asks, holding out her hand. 

you nod, pulling off your popsicle blue kit and handing it to her. she does the same, and when you take her orange jersey, you can’t help but smile. 

it smells faintly of her perfume, a floral one with amber undertones.

the cameras are clicking and recording, capturing every second of your interaction. 

however, it’s when vivianne drapes her arm around your shoulders and leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head that everything seems to freeze. the world narrows to just the two of you, the noise of the stadium fading into the background.

you glance up at her, your cheeks warm. 

“you’re making this really obvious, you know.”

“maybe i want to,” she murmurs, her voice low enough that only you can hear.

the walk back to the locker rooms feels heavier than usual. part of you doesn’t want to leave her, even though you know it’s only a matter of days before you’re back in manchester together. 

outside the stadium, as the team buses line up, you find her hand and squeeze it gently.

“i’ll see you back home,” you say, your voice soft. 

she nods, her eyes holding yours like she’s trying to memorize every detail of this moment. just as you’re about to step away, her lips form the words you’ve been longing to hear.

“i love you.” 

the world seems to tilt for a moment, her words sinking into your chest and settling there, warm and steady. 

you don’t hesitate, a smirk tugging at your lips as you reply.

“i love you more.”

she laughs softly, shaking her head like she doesn’t quite believe you, but you can see it in her eyes….she does. 

masterlist

[cosmiclily]

.ᐟ chapter six: can you figure me out?

wc: 2.1k

cw: swearing, talk about sex (?)

I was in a terrible, horrible mood. I’d just had the shittiest day of the year—everything that could go wrong, did. And now, to top it all off, I couldn’t even sleep because my stupid fucking roommate was having the loudest sex of her life. It felt like they were doing it in my room.

The girl’s moans were clear as day, cutting through the walls as if they weren’t even there. I shoved a pillow over my head, trying to drown out the noise, but it didn’t help. The frustration boiling in my chest was so intense that, for once, the fact that Vi was having sex didn’t even bother me—not in the way it usually did, anyway. No, I was too mad about my lack of sleep to feel anything else.

Who the fuck does she think she is? I fumed silently, clutching the pillow tighter. Does she think she owns the apartment? That the rest of us don’t need a little thing called peace and quiet?

I stared up at the ceiling, my fists clenched under the blankets. Today had been a disaster—work was hell, the coffee machine broke before i had any coffee, and I’d managed to embarrass myself in front of my boss. All I wanted was to come home, collapse into bed, and sleep off the day. But no. Apparently, Vi and her flavor of the week had other plans.

It wasn’t just the noise—it was the audacity. The complete disregard for anyone else in the apartment. For me. I could practically feel the anger coursing through my veins, making my already pounding headache even worse.

I shot a glance at the clock on my nightstand: 2:37 a.m. Are you kidding me?

Another high-pitched moan echoed through the wall, and something in me snapped. I sat up, the blankets pooling around me, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I didn’t know what I was going to do—march over there and bang on her door? Scream into the void? Move out and leave her a passive-aggressive note about apartment etiquette? All three options sounded equally tempting.

But instead, I just sat there, breathing heavily, my hands clenched into fists. My mind raced with anger, frustration, and the exhaustion of a day that had been far too long.

And yet, under all of that rage, there was something else. A flicker of something I didn’t want to acknowledge. Something that had nothing to do with sleep or noise or the shitty day I’d had. Something that had everything to do with the fact that Vi was in there with someone else.

I shoved that thought down as quickly as it surfaced, burying it under my frustration. No. Not tonight. Tonight, I was just mad. Just tired. That’s all.

But as another burst of laughter and muffled voices spilled through the wall, I felt my anger boil over. Before I could even have a coherent thought, I was already out of my room, banging on Vi’s door like a lunatic.

“Hello!” I shouted, not caring if I sounded unhinged. “There are other people in this apartment who need SLEEP!” And for a moment, there was blessed silence. The noises stopped—no laughter, no moans—just dead, suffocating quiet.

I could hear heavy footsteps moving towards the door, each one more threatening than the last. When the door swung open, it wasn’t the random girl who greeted me—it was Vi. And she looked pissed.

“Oh, so now I’m worth your time?” she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm and anger as she glared at me from the doorway. She was standing there in an old t-shirt, hair messy, her usual confidence dialed up to ten as she leaned against the frame, arms crossed like she was ready for a fight.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Excuse me? I’m trying to sleep, and you’re—”

“No, excuse me,” she interrupted, stepping forward slightly, her eyes burning into mine. “For the past two weeks, you’ve been avoiding me for no fucking reason. Blowing me off, dodging my texts, acting like I don’t even exist. But now, suddenly, you’re banging on my door at two in the morning? Spare me.”

Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I was too angry to back down. “Yeah, because you and your latest fuck-toy are treating this apartment like a damn nightclub! Some of us have responsibilities, Violet. Some of us have actual shit to deal with in the morning!”

Her jaw clenched, and for a second, I thought she might yell back. But instead, she let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Right. Got it. I’m just the irresponsible roommate who’s ruining your life.”

“That’s not what I—” I started, but she cut me off again.

“No, it’s fine. You’ve made it pretty clear where we stand, haven’t you? You can’t even look at me anymore, let alone talk to me. So, you know what? Go back to avoiding me, Y/N. I’ll make sure I’m quiet so I don’t disturb your precious little bubble.” Her voice dripped with venom, but behind it, there was something else—something that sounded a lot like hurt.

I opened my mouth to respond, to defend myself, to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. She stared at me for another moment, her chest rising and falling like she was trying to keep her anger in check. Then, without waiting for a reply, she slammed the door in my face.

I stood there in the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind a mix of guilt, frustration, and something heavier that I couldn’t quite name.

Was she right? Had I been avoiding her so much that I hadn’t even noticed what I was doing to her?

As I trudged back to my room, the apartment felt colder, emptier somehow. The silence that I’d wanted so badly felt suffocating now, and I couldn’t shake the look in her eyes before she shut the door. It wasn’t just anger. It was pain.

I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, and let out a long, shaky breath. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. None of it was. But now, I had no idea how to fix it—or if I even could.

──────────────────────

jinx💙

we need to talk

you

?? why are you being so serious

what did i do

jinx 💙

you know what you did, meet me at the campus coffee shop @6pm

you

ok

As I made my way to the coffee shop, my mind kept racing, stuck on Jinx’s cryptic text. She rarely *ever* asked to meet up like this, especially not with such an oddly serious tone. Normally, her texts were chaotic, full of emojis, but this one was straightforward, almost... ominous.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I had no doubt it was about my so-called *brilliant plan.* Of course, Jinx had been skeptical from the start. She made her feelings about my avoidance strategy abundantly clear—loudly and with a side of judgment. But why now? Why was she suddenly being so serious about it?

I replayed the last conversation we’d had in my head, the one where she called me out for acting like a complete idiot. She’d said things like, “This is only going to blow up in your face,” and “You’re miserable, just TALK to her already!” At the time, I’d brushed it off, unwilling to admit that she might be right. But now, with this sudden meeting hanging over my head, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew something I didn’t.

When I finally reached the coffee shop, I spotted her immediately. She was sitting at our usual table near the window, sipping on what looked like a hot chocolate, her knee bouncing anxiously under the table. Her blue hair was pulled into two messy buns, and her expression was uncharacteristically serious as she stared out the window.

The moment I walked in, her eyes snapped to mine, and she waved me over. “Finally!” she exclaimed as I approached. “I was starting to think you bailed.”

“Yeah, well, your text kind of freaked me out,” I admitted, sliding into the seat across from her. “What’s this about, Jinx? You’re being... weird.”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and fixed me with a look that was both annoyed and concerned. “Okay, I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” she said, her voice lower than usual. “Your plan? The whole ‘avoid Vi until your feelings magically disappear’ thing? It’s bullshit.”

I blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Wow, thanks for the insight, Captain Obvious,” I muttered, leaning back in my chair. “What else is new?”

“No, you don’t get it,” she pressed, her tone sharp. “It’s not working. Like, on a catastrophic level.”

I frowned, sitting up straighter. “What are you talking about?”

Jinx sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Vi’s been asking me about you,” she said finally. “A lot. It’s annoying, actually. She thinks you’re mad at her or that she did something wrong, but she doesn’t know what it is. And honestly? She’s hurt, Y/N. She’s really fucking hurt.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

“She told me she misses you,” Jinx continued, her eyes searching mine. “Like, *really* misses you. And she doesn’t understand why you’re pulling away. She’s convinced it’s her fault.”

Guilt twisted in my stomach, and I looked down at the table, unable to meet her gaze. “I didn’t mean for her to think that,” I mumbled.

“Well, congratulations, because that’s exactly what she thinks,” Jinx said, leaning back in her chair with a huff. “Look, I get that you’re trying to protect yourself or whatever, but this whole avoidance thing? It’s not just hurting you. It’s hurting her too.”

“So what do I do?” I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jinx gave me a small, almost sad smile. “You talk to her,” she said simply. “You tell her the truth. About everything. I know you’re scared—scared of losing her or ruining your friendship—but at the pace things are going, there won’t be a friendship left to save.”

Her words were sharp, cutting through the layers of excuses I’d been hiding behind. I opened my mouth to argue, to come up with some kind of defense, but she held up a hand, stopping me.

“Look,” she continued, her voice softening, “I know my sister. She likes to plaster on that tough look, act like nothing gets to her, like she doesn’t care about anything. But trust me, she cares. And right now? I’m worried about her. She’s not herself, Y/N.”

I frowned, leaning forward slightly. “What do you mean?”

Jinx sighed, running a hand through her hair. “She’s... distracted. Off her game. You know how Vi usually is—confident, quick to brush things off? Lately, she’s been... different. Quieter. Like she’s overthinking everything. And I know it’s because of you.”

“Me?” I said, my voice cracking slightly.

“Yes, you!” Jinx said, exasperated. “You’re one of the most important people in her life, and she feels like she’s losing you. Do you have any idea how much that’s messing with her?”

I sat back in my chair, her words hitting me like a ton of bricks. Vi was *hurting* because of me. All this time, I thought I was the only one struggling, that I was the only one dealing with the fallout of my feelings. But I hadn’t considered how my actions—my distance, my avoidance—might be affecting her.

“I didn’t mean to make her feel like that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I know you didn’t,” Jinx said gently. “But intentions don’t matter if the outcome still hurts, you know?” She leaned forward, her blue eyes locking onto mine. “You’ve gotta fix this, Y/N. And not with some half-baked apology or vague excuse. You need to be honest—with her and with yourself.”

The thought of laying everything bare, of telling Vi the truth about my feelings, sent a wave of panic crashing over me. But Jinx was right. If I didn’t do something soon, I was going to lose her anyway.

“Okay,” I said finally, my voice shaky but resolute. “I’ll talk to her.”

Jinx’s expression softened into a small smile. “Good. And Y/N? Don’t wait too long, okay? Vi might be tough, but even she has her limits.”

I nodded, my stomach twisting with nerves. This was it. No more running, no more hiding. It was time to face the truth, no matter how terrifying it was.

──────────────────────

chapters

notes: oohh the girls are fighting, will y/n finally confess?

i feel like jinx in this au is the typical younger sibling that chased vi with a knife but won’t let anyone else hurt her

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 51 || The Resolve

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst if you squint, & heart-tingling fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.5k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE TRUTH, CHOSO deserves to know the truth. After all he’s told you about himself the very least you could do is give him that. He’s earned it hasn’t he?

“Six,” You murmur honestly, your heart rate spiking as the word leaves your lips.

He repeats it as if he didn’t hear you, “Six?”

“Mhm, I’ve slept with six other guys since meeting you,” You explain in full, facing forward and avoiding looking at him.

Choso’s eyes are all over the side of your face and he takes a second, processing what you just said. “A-And that includes Geto… Sukuna, and the other guy you have feelings for, right?”

You nod and things get quiet for a second. The only thing you could hear was the pounding of your heart. He hates you, doesn’t he? He thinks you’re disgusting and is seconds away from kicking you out of his car right?

You should’ve told him earlier, maybe he could’ve helped you. It’s too late now though, the silence told you everything. You basically just told him you’re a wh-

The sound of Choso letting out a relieved sigh is heard, “Thank god.” He mutters, earning the turn of your head.

“T-Thank god?” You whisper, “You’re not… You don’t… Choso, I-“

“I mean, in total, six isn’t terrible is it?” He hums casually, meeting your widened eyes, “If three I already knew about, what’s three more?” He says with a shrug.

You blink, “Choso… You can’t be serious right now?”

He tilts his head innocently, “Why not? I mean we’ve known each other since when, like, September? It’s February now, baby. If you break it down, honestly, aside from me that’s one guy a month, no?”

The way he just responded as if it’s literally nothing makes you feel like a fool for worrying so much, “You’re serious…”

“Plus, we weren’t dating so,” He shrugs.

You sigh, “D-Do you want to know who-“

“Nope, absolutely not.” Choso cuts off, shaking his head instantly.

A slight chuckle leaves you due to his reaction, “Why not?”

“I don’t need any more images in my head.” He hums, “I know who two of those six are so, that’s enough info’.”

“Right…” You murmur, nodding slightly. That went entirely different than you were expecting, “Well uh, your next question, then?”

“That was the main one I think,” Choso sighs, “I can’t imagine there’s anything else I should know that could possibly change the trajectory of our… uhm, situationship?”

“You…” You blink, “You don’t want to know who the other guy I have feelings for is?”

A brow is risen and Choso doesn’t quite understand your offer, “Does it matter who he is?”

“I don’t know…” Your shoulders raise a little.

“I mean,” Choso moves his head and glances away in thought, “I can’t imagine it being someone I know since I only know a handful of people.”

“Uh, can I ask something then?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Does the name…” You pause wondering if you should really ask your question but after a second or two, you get it out, “Does the name Gojo Satoru mean anything to you?”

“Gojo?” Choso echoes, giving you a skeptical look as he smiles a bit, “Gojo Satoru? Uh, didn’t Geto mention him earlier?”

You swallow, “Mhm…”

“Does the name mean anything to me? I dunno, I mean, I know him but-, wait…” His eyes narrow at you, “Baby…”

“Y-Yes?” You squeak out nervously.

Choso tilts his head a little, “Is he…?”

“Is he what?”

He pauses, then he swallows and meets your eyes with an intense gaze, “Do I wanna know?”

“Wanna know what?” You ask for clarification.

“Do I wanna know if that’s my competition?” Choso explains simply.

You’re still not used to such easy and quick answers to your questions, “I d-don’t know, do you?”

He stares for a minute before shaking his head, “Never mind then, I already told you, I don’t care who it is.”

“But-“

“What would knowing who it is change?”

Well, it’d give you an opening to explain the list… But then again, do you want to explain the list?

“Baby,” Choso sighs, “What I don’t know won’t hurt me, right?”

“It might…” You mumble.

His brows furrow, “How?”

That’s a damn good question. If you tell Choso that Gojo’s his competition then proceed to explain how you only slept with all those guys, including Choso himself, because of a list you were blackmailed into completing— how would he react?

No, really think about it. One, Choso might feel like a tool. Even though you know you talked to him that day in the hall because you were genuinely interested in him, he might never feel that way. To any sane human, that interaction will feel set up.

And two, somewhere deep down, you still want to protect Gojo. Why? Because you know there’s more to this blackmailing situation and you can’t tear down his character anymore without knowing the truth, that’s just not in your nature. And hey, you may regret this later when you do learn the truth but, it’s the thought that counts, right?

A man who’s obsessed with you and loves you like Gojo does wouldn’t blackmail you without good reason-

Okay, wait, what good reason is there to blackmail someone? And… What if boredom wasn’t the reason like he said it was… What if this was all done just so that Gojo could somehow trick you into running back to him?

Think about it. He claims the list was done out of boredom but later down the line tells you he loves you. What if he knew Choso hates liars, knew you’d tell Choso the truth after so long, and assumed you and Choso would part, thus leaving you to run back to him?

What if this is some kinda sick game and when the credits roll, the winning option is revealed to be Gojo Satoru? What if-

Choso says your name, “Are you okay?”

“H-Huh?” You breathe out, not knowing the facial expression you hold.

Your eyes were all wide and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.

“What’s wrong?” Choso asks carefully.

You shake your head and snap out of your mind, “Nothing, sorry.”

“After all I’ve told you, you still chose to lie to me?” He teases.

Your heart jumps a bit, “I-I didn’t mean to lie, I just, uhm… W-Well-“

He snorts and you freeze. When you look at Choso you see the way he’s smiling at you for the first time in a while. As quickly as your eyes meet, he turns away and brings his hand over his mouth.

“You… You were messing with me, weren’t you?” You question, narrowing your eyes at the man.

Choso lets out a chuckle, “Kinda. M’sorry, you just got all nervous and it was cute.”

“Well I thought I fucked up again Choso, that’s not funny,” You tell him, frowning.

He laughs, the sound more genuine than ever and making your heart simmer into a state of relaxation. A pout takes over your expression and you couldn’t believe that after all this he still found a way to tease you.

Playfully, you reach over and hit his arm, “Quit laughing, you scared me.”

Choso’s eyes get dramatically wide and he winces, bringing a hand to where you just hit him and sending you a look, “Oh wow, and after I tell you I was abused, you decide to hit me…” He points out, again making your heart sink.

You swallow hard and get nervous all over again, “Shit, s-sorry…”

Choso stares at you for a second and it’s slow how his smile returns, the sight making you realize he was messing with you again. 

This time you frown and turn away from him, “Oh my god, stop doing that, we’re supposed to be serious right now.”

He starts snickering, “Baby, c’mon you know that was a little funny.”

“It wasn’t,” You utter seriously, staring out your window and watching water slide down the glass.

The sound of him scoffing is heard before he moves and a hand is placed on your arm. You turn and look down at his fingers wrapping around your arm and watch how he tries to tug at your arms to get you to unfold them.

“I’m sorry, princess,” Choso hums, “C’mere, I was jus’ teasin’ you.”

You pull away from him, “Making jokes about your childhood trauma isn’t funny, Cho.”

“I laughed,” He says, shrugging.

You roll your eyes at him, “Well I didn’t.”

“Yeah and that’s the problem,” He argues back, “I can joke about my trauma. It’s my trauma.”

You sigh, “But-“

“Baby.” He cuts off, tipping his head to the side.

“What?”

Choso’s eyes grow pleading, “Look at me please?”

With a huff, you steadily lift your gaze to his, “Okay, now what?”

“Come here,” He says.

Your brows furrow and you blink, “What do you mean come here?”

“Climb over to me, I wanna hug you.”

You stare at him, “Choso I’m not climbing over-“

“Then I’ll go out in the rain, walk over to your side, and drag you out of that seat.” He says while finally pulling your arms loose. Then, Choso reaches down and unbuckles your seatbelt, “Either you come over here or I come over there.”

You sigh and look at his area, “Choso, there’s not even enough space for me to-“

He moves back into his seat and immediately adjusts his chair to go back as far as it can, providing you more than enough space to be able to sit on the floor and in between his legs if you wanted to.

“I dunno’ why you’re acting like you haven’t done this before,” Choso scoffs, “C’mon, bring your ass over here,” He orders, patting his thigh, “I’m not gonna ask you again.”

You sigh heavily and start moving, shifting your knees into the seat and then carefully climb over the center console and to Choso’s side. His hand goes to your waist to support you as you move and you soon find yourself sliding into his lap.

Choso’s car was rather spacious so it’s not like it was difficult for you to end up in this position with him, hell, you’ve been here plenty of times before.

Once seated comfortably, Choso settles his hands on your waist, holding you lightly as his head tips up to you, “Hi princess.”

You try not to smile at him, “Hi Cho.”

“Hug me,” He directs.

You pout, “You could at least say please…”

“If I was asking, I would’ve. But,” He tilts his head at you, “I wasn’t asking you, I’m telling you.”

You simply stare into those brown eyes of his for a moment, noticing the dullness from earlier has lifted and his pupils are dilated. After which, you begin to lean in slowly and Choso grows impatient, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to him.

The smile you tried to bite back breaks free onto your face as you move to drape your arms around his neck, burying your face into him and feeling as he squeezes onto you.

Choso lets out a sigh and you feel his entire body relax underneath you as he rests his head back and shuts his eyes, “Now, can we stay like this for a while?”

The crook of his neck smells so good and you were just melting into his hold, “Mhm.”

The two of you nearly molded into one another’s bodies after all the stress that’d been endured. This was so surreal to you— to go from arguing and worrying you may have ruined everything to hugging that same person without being confused in the slightest, god it lifted this weight off your chest.

And as said weight was lifted, another weight took place on your heart. This weight was strong, suffocating even. What did this weight symbolize? Was it trust? Peace? Or… was it love?

Did such a simple yet emotionally present conversation become the breaking point for you? Was this all you needed to acknowledge your feelings? When you realized you felt something for Gojo, it was that time in his car when music was playing and he just looked so damn perfect.

But… With Choso it was different. The physical sensation of falling in love with someone is different for every person. In this case, it’s like the heat emanating from his previously wet and cold body was wrapping around you and smothering you with comfort.

Breathing in his cologne brought nothing but the brightest memories to the forefront of your mind. Choso consumed you with nothing more than a simple hug and he had no idea.

He was completely unaware of how his embrace and faint but gentle thumb swirling over your back made you never want to leave this very moment. Choso didn’t know that you were currently recalling your first phone call with him, remembering how he’d put a smile on your face after Gojo had stripped it from you.

And he’s always been that for you, hasn’t he? In a world where Gojo puts you in a dark room, leaving you frightened, confused, and nervous, Choso is to you the same light he claims you are to him.

Forget Gojo’s claims that you and him are the same. No, you’ve found the person in whom your similarities lay in and that person is none other than Choso Kamo, a man whose only fault with you was falling for you.

And even then, you don’t blame him for doing so because you did too. Your heart is simply swelling right now and you unconsciously started clinging onto his body tighter.

The way, “Choso,” Slips past your lips before you even realize is simply tantalizing to the man beneath you.

He feels as your breath hits the skin of his neck, your warmth giving him chills and making him swallow, “Yes, princess?” He replies.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize sincerely.

He sighs, “Told’ you to stop doing that.” Choso reminds you. Then, his hand slips to caress along your spine, “But, what are you sorry for, baby?”

You weren’t sure just yet. Everything? Nothing? Why is it that you have to apologize for a situation that was never your fault to begin with?

“Earlier,” You come up with, “I think I uh… I should’ve handled things differently.”

He nods a little, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling of your breath against his skin, “Oh, thank you for that. I’m sorry too.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong,” You hum, smiling a little.

“Called’ you dense,” Choso recalls and you feel how his body shifts a little, “Yelled at you, caused a scene, y’know, the list kinda’ goes on, babe.”

“Choso, it-,” You pause for a second. Then, you start moving, your hands slipping down to his chest as you push yourself up to sit on his lap comfortably instead of laying on him, “What?”

He raises a brow, “Hm? What? Did I say something wrong?”

“You called me babe.” You point out, grinning.

He chuckles, “It’s no different from baby is it?”

“It is.” You say.

Choso nods, noting that in his head before asking, “Which do you like more?”

“Doesn’t matter, I like anything you call me,” You tell him, smiling a little.

Choso nods slowly and bites back the mischievous smirk that threatened to show, “Anything?”

“Mhm,” You hum with a slight shrug.

“I’ll…” His words fade for a second and he’s so deep in his head as he processes what you just told him, “Yeahh, I’ll keep that in mind.”

You tip your head to the side, “Why’d you say it like that?”

“No reason, princess, ignore me,” Choso dismisses, “Anyways, I was serious about my apology.”

You sigh and move your hand to caress the side of his face, “Right, well, I forgive you, Cho.”

“You’re supposed to say I didn’t do anything wrong,” He jokes, leaning into your touch and pushing his lower lip out to pout.

A scoff leaves you and you slip your fingers down to his jaw before grabbing ahold of his chin, “Mmmh… You yelled at me, I didn’t like that.”

“Your face said otherwise.” Choso points out, glancing off to the side.

“Hm?” Your brows knit together.

“For a second I thought you were turned on,” He says, so clearly joking with you.

You snort, “If I was turned on, it’s not because you were yelling at me.”

“Yeah?” The way the corner of his lips quips up into a sly smirk makes you shift in his lap a little, “Then what was it, baby? I knew there was somethin’.”

“When you were arguing with Suguru,” You recall simply, sliding your thumb up to trace Choso’s lower lip, “I don’t know why but I thought it was hot.”

He raises a brow, “Oh yeah?”

You just barely meet Choso’s eyes and you could feel yourself folding. Good god, why is this man so damn sexy?

“Mhm.” You hum timidly.

He pushes his lips out a little and kisses the tip of your thumb, “Words baby.”

“Yeah,” You utter, your voice almost breathy. 

“Atta’ girl,” Choso praises and you swear you should not be getting turned on right now. “Anywho, before you get yourself too worked up, I did want to ask you something else.”

You shake away your incoming horny thoughts and return to seriousness, “Okay… What is it?”

His gaze drops down to your torso and his eyes narrow, “Well, I wanted to ask about you and uh… You and Sukuna.”

For some reason, unlike earlier you’re not as nervous, “Okay…”

Choso’s index finger and his thumb are toying with the fabric of your top as the rest of his fingers rest on your hips, “Did you… Did you enjoy your time with him?” He asks carefully.

Your heart jumps, “Uh, I-“

“You promised to answer honestly,” Choso reminds you, lifting his gaze to yours once more, “I won't ask anything I don’t want the answer to.”

“Alright, well,” You look off to the side, “He was sweet to me after we…”

“After you had sex?” Choso fills in.

You nod, “Mhm. He was surprisingly good with aftercare. A-And I think… I think because of that, yes, I did enjoy my time with him.”

He gazes at you for a while without saying anything and you continue to keep your eyes elsewhere. Choso thinks back and he genuinely doesn’t remember Sukuna being like that. Before his last known girlfriend, after he’d have sex with whichever girl he was with, he’d kick most of them out.

But, there were a few he was different with. Those few Choso got to meet. The most memorable was the last known one, the same one Sukuna knocked out. Choso remembers her to be rather rude to him, calling him gross or disturbing whenever she and him crossed paths but, he recalls the woman having Sukuna wrapped around her finger.

Of course, due to Choso’s experience with Sukuna, he didn’t care to point this out to his older brother— if that woman was playing him, he deserved it.

Even so, it makes Choso wonder what about you made Sukuna treat you so nicely. Hell, it actually worried Choso because since the two attend the same university, Choso knows what it’s like to have his love interest taken from him by his older brother.

“More than…” Choso’s voice is soft, scared even, “More than with me?” He blurts out without thinking.

Your eyes snap onto his and your brows furrow, face shifting into something bothered, “What? Hell no.”

Choso releases a shaky breath and nods, “Oh, okay good.”

You tilt your head, “Choso are you worried I may feel something for him?”

“N-No, I know you said you don’t and I believe you.” Choso stammers, “I-It’s just-“

“He’s repulsive,” You snap, “After everything you’ve told me about him, I could never see that man in the same light.”

“Oh.” He chirps.

“Now, it does confuse me why I experienced something different but,” You shrug, “I don’t care to find out.”

Choso’s eyebrows raise and he stops toying with your shirt, “Really? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m not interested in him.” You say.

Choso smiles a little, “Good…” All his worry fades and he returns to his playfulness, “So uh, who are you interested in, then?”

“You, obviously.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes.

“Is it obvious?” Choso questions.

You frown, “I thought so…”

“Mmmh, I dunno’ baby…” He starts looking away with a skeptical expression.

“I’ve said it before but, I do want you Choso.” You remind the man.

His eyes shoot back over to yours, “Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Have me, then,” Choso says eagerly.

What surprises him the most is your response to that this time around, “Can I?” You ask.

He bats his eyelashes at you, “O-Of course.” The words pour out of his mouth and his heart skips a beat.

“You sure?” You question teasingly with an innocent tilt of your head.

“Fuckin’ positive,” Choso breathes, smiling, “Have all of me, princess.”

He’s so clearly happy about this and that makes you just as happy, “Okay…”

“Okay?” There’s a hint of need in his voice, “What does that mean?”

You give a sheepish shrug, “I don’t know…”

“Baby I can’t do I don’t know.”

“Okay then,” You slide your hands down and rest them on his chest, “Let’s make it official, Choso.”

“M-Make us official?” He asks for clarification.

“Mhm.” You hum.

“So,” He can hardly process what’s happening, the entire conversation feeling like a dream, “You wanna be my girlfriend?”

A pretty smile spreads across your face, “Yes, Choso.”

“Okay,” He whispers, nodding, “O-Okay, I can work with that.”

“Work with that?” Your brows knit, “Cho, what're you talking about-“

“Let’s go on a date,” He offers, “Wait-, no. Can I take you out on a date?”

You blink, “We’ve been on dates already-“

“A real one.” Choso urges. Oh he’s been planning this for months now, hasn’t he?

You’re smiling from ear to ear, “A real date?”

“Yes.” Choso says, “We both dress up all nice, go out to eat or somethin’, y’know, do this properly.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

His hands slide up to your waist and he squeezes a little, “Yes or no baby?”

“Yes,” You start smiling and your heart has never felt this full before, “Yes you can take me out on a date.”

“Thank you,” He sighs, suddenly tugging your body closer to his, “This way I’ll never have a reason to feel insecure.”

Your arms go up and back around his neck, “Yeah?” You whisper.

Choso’s voice lowers and his gaze is so intimate with you, “Mhm, I think that’ll solve every problem we’ve had so far.”

You nod, “I think so too.”

Both of your faces near one another and you’ve never in your life felt more content with a person before. Is this what you’ve been craving for months? Is this freedom? Peace? Bliss?

To have such a tough conversation with your heart spiking multiple times, and feeling worried about certain reactions, all to result in feeling more comfortable in a person is something you never expected. Do you deserve this? Such happiness?

Well, why wouldn’t you? What have you done to yourself to not deserve the man looking at you so lovingly right now?

Did you forget?

The list is over. You’re free to experience this without worrying about hurting anyone. You are finally allowed to love with all your heart instead of only half.

Gojo was right about one thing, he could never give you things Choso can because, at the end of the day, Choso will explain everything to you because he knows what it’s like to be confused and hurt. Choso understands you, he actually loves you.

As for that stupidly beautiful white-haired man? You’re not sure what to think of him anymore but, you think you’re done thinking about him.

Sure, you still have a journal to burn with him but, can’t you indulge yourself in the joy that is loving someone wholeheartedly? Is that not what you deserve after everything you’ve been through?

Your head tilts as your gaze sinks to Choso’s lips. Does this man even realize how wonderful he is to you? Does he know that he’s your savior? Is he aware of how much you adore him? How thankful you are to him?

“Choso,” You utter so carefully, your face nearing his.

“Yes?” He replies, his eyes dropping to your lips as they near him.

“Thank you,” You suddenly say.

He smiles a little, “For what?”

“Everything,” Your answer is vague at first but you’re quick to explain a bit more, “For loving me the way you do, being so open to me, telling me everything even though it was hard for you…”

“Baby that’s not something you have to thank me for,” He hums, letting out an amused scoff, “That’s the bare minimum of what I should be doing for you.”

Something sheer glosses over your eyes but you ignore it, smiling at his words, “But still,” Your voice is light and tainted with emotion, “Thank you for waiting for me.”

“If my reward for waiting is you,” He smiles, “I told you, I’d wait lifetimes.”

“Choso,” You breathe out, holding onto him so very tightly before the words slide out of your mouth, “I love you.”

His chest is against yours so you can feel the way his heart throbs. His breathing picks up in an instant, hitching for only a moment as your words caress his ears so beautifully.

“Y-You…” Choso’s at a loss for words. He’s dreaming, right? “You what?” He asks, his voice shaky as his eyes land on yours.

The sight of joyful and overwhelmed tears in your eyes lets him know just how real this is. Then, you lean in and just barely press your lips into his before repeating yourself, “I love you, Choso.”

Those arms around your waist squeeze you tighter and you don’t miss the way he trembles a bit, his own eyes glossing over, “I love you too, princess.”

Another sweet, soft, and lightweight kiss is shared between you two but as you pull away and your eyes meet all over again, Choso sees the way your pupils have expanded. He wonders how long they’ve been that way, having only seen it at such a size once before.

His brows tense and Choso pulls you to him again, muttering the words into your mouth, “I love you so much.”

You smile briefly against the connection before mumbling right back, “I love you too Cho.”

Everything you could’ve ever asked for was within your grasp now. Peace, freedom, happiness, certainty, hope, love— all of which was felt in the midst of you and Choso kissing so passionately.

This right here… This is what one would describe as a healthy relationship. 

Arguments and drama occur but the end result should always be this; peace and understanding.

That’s what he is to you. Choso is your peace, your understanding, and the man you love all in one.

You’ve finally ended the war in your heart. Should someone ever ask you who ended that battle, who healed the plague on you, your answer would remain forever;

Choso Kamo.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

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[atiianeishaunted]

blue writing is lance's notes fyi anyway uhh character bios below !! long ass writing warning but worth it i promise chat pspsp | no notes version AND the transparent PNGS down at the end!

character bios:

Allura [???] | A lone princess who is burnt out and stressed out her mind, her only solace/stress relief being the garden she has where she can have peace and quiet, shutting her brain off while she does the tasks of tending to her precious plants and bugs. She tries her best to remain as friendly and optimistic as possible, if not for her own sanity, however thanks to the stress and pressure put on her, she has a tendency to lose her cool and sometimes shut down entirely. She has a passion for commanding and loves honing her fighting skills as that was one of the ways she bonded with her father. She more often than not can be seen in comfortable clothes, she doesnt mind dresses and does enjoy dressing up but will only do it when shes going out the castle or theres a meeting. | this gal couldve been an burnt out autistic queen DREAMWORKS, YOU COUDLVE MADE HER ICONIC .... let her be a dorky nerd whos a hater sometimes, pretty please

Takashi Shirogane | A garrison commander (no one is really sure of his job title to be honest with you..) who's insanely passionate about his job, to the point where hes willing to sacrifice it all if the garrison wills it. Anything to serve. He tries his best to fit in and be hip with the kids, he tries to come across as the 'chill' teacher, but students of his have reported that after a few months, any amount of chillness is thrown out the window. If not that, hes often not even in class, too busy doing missions he wasnt assigned to. He's intense. Very intense. Knows his way around words though for the most part, can be very convincing and a bit maniuplative, very goal driven. He means well though? Thats what he says. He always throws a quick sorry if someone brings it up with him, so that must mean something. | sorry in advance if you follow along with Sonder's story... unrelated but dreamworks wrote a banger antagonist without even realizing!

"Keith" Kogane / "Morse" | Unknown origins. He was a talented garrison pilot who could practically fly with his eyes closed, a jack of all trades, short tempered and prone to losing it but all things considered, the perfect cadet for the garrison's goals, he came out of nowhere practically, just poofed in like a ghost and wiped the floor with everyone. He really just needed a good guiding hand. No one is quite sure what gender he is, his androgynous appearance and tendency to respond to anything besides being called a girl have people baffled to say the least. He's very clearly not all there in the head either which goes hand in hand with his odd bursts of ego and then odd bursts of whining, these bursts often include talks that could only be described as cult-ish. People have their theories. Beyond those bursts, hes mostly very deadpan and quiet. But despite his strength and that intense feeling of fear and dread people get when they're around him, he's.. popular, somehow. Admired greatly for his devilish good looks. A universal appeal if you will. He doesn't seem to notice. Or perhaps doesnt care. Either way he's far too busy following Shiro around and treating him like the second coming of god to really indulge in romance for now. Lance's self proclaimed rival, Keith is also unaware of this. | also sorry in advance for this one if you follow sonder's storyline Lance McClain | A former Garrison cargo pilot who moved up in rank when Keith got kicked out. Keith is his rival and also all that Lance can talk about, even after the guy got kicked out and left for dead (Lance overheard some things while sneaking out past the teacher's lounge). He has a very noticable personality and loves to be the center of attention, hes still finding his footing and figuring out what he wants to do with his life and who he wants to be. Despite his many claims, hes not all that popular. He can't really flirt with girls all too well. His general goal is to be so well known so he won't ever be forgotten, hence why he begged his mom to let him dye his hair and get piercings (if he used Keith as an argument, thats none of your business.) (he saw keith dying his hair once or twice and instantly wanted to copy, its a bad habit.). He loves LOVES taking care of his appearance and is fairly vain, he has extensive routines and will freak out if he can't follow them. His ego and overbearing confidence is all to drown out his deep insecurities and fears. He tries his best to come across as a suave, cool, charming, awesome, any positive adjective really, person but in all reality he's a mama's boy, a dork, a loser if you will who has a love for the retro and is a huge gamer. If he must admit, he and Keith'd get along great actually, Keith ticks alot of boxes and honestly Lance deeply admires him and wants to be like him. | dreamworks dropped that lance was a gamer and loved retro stuff and then never talked about it again. sigh. Hunk Garrett | Hunk has many passions, mainly inspired by parents, he mainly specializes in cooking and mechanics, he enjoys tinkering with things, taking them apart to see how they work and working from there to see if he can rebuild it with 0 instruction, hes gotten good at it. He's Lance's childhood best friend, they're extremely close and are often seen constantly poking fun at eachother. Its all in good fun though. Hunk struggles extremely with anxiety and has a service dog back home that he left at home when heading to the Garrison as he worried he couldn't take care of it while studying. Despite his anxiety, he quite enjoys talking to people and sharing things he enjoys with them, he often tries to get over his fears by branching out and | I looked up his name from the old show because he deserves an 'actual' name, free my boy, he was done so dirty, also i remember when we all thought hunk had two moms (or was that just me ..) and i live by it tbh, two moms and a dad whos still active in his life, 3 whole parents for the greatest fella ever

Pidge Holt | Not much can be said about Pidge, they keep to themselves and don't share much about themselves. Just like Keith, their gender is often up to debate and when asked, Pidge will never give a consistent answer. They're a major tech wiz and with their talents, they're a complete menace. Pidge is prone to being mischevious and pranking others, often taking jokes a bit too far. They're egotistical and find that robots are their preferred companions in comparison to humans. | loser chronically online 13 year old who would tell you to kys, matt probably has to take away their electronics all the time LMFAO purposely made their outfit look a bit strange bc , theyre a kid whos a NERD /aff let them dress a bit stupid and let them cringe at it 5 years later ty

No notes version and PNGS below :-)

im insane about this reboot!! please reblog and im willing to elaborate if anyone wants me to <333 hrgfhrfg i really want this to take off bwaa

[fear-is-truth]

❛ THE 5 LOVE LANGUAGES ❜ - T. LANGDON

ⓘ love language : a person's characteristic means of expressing and experiencing love

꣑ৎ ‎ :‎ masterlist﹒request / chat w me ! ﹒꒱ note. i love him

words of affirmation ➛ ˗ˏˋ tate relies on verbal reassurance more than anything else. this need to be told he’s loved or wanted traces directly back to his mother—constance offered praise in fragments, conditional and inconsistent, delivered only when he performed well enough to deserve it. tate learned early on that affection had to be earned, and over time, that became the framework. now, your perception of him becomes the baseline for who he believes he is. verbal affirmation functions as some sort of moral buffer—if you still want him, then maybe he’s not beyond saving. ˊˎ-

────୨ৎ────

acts of service ➛ ˗ˏˋ tate will do anything for you, and that’s not always a good thing. he doesn’t just take your side like any supportive boyfriend does, he eliminates the opposition—if you so much as complain about someone, he’s already planning what to do to them come halloween. “i did it for you.” and he’ll wait, eyes wide and almost innocent, for your approval. in his book, love means devotion without limit. when tate does something awful in your name, he doesn’t expect you to be upset; he expects gratitude. maybe even a kiss. you don’t get to be mad. not without hurting his feelings. because in his twisted logic, you asked for this. you trusted him with your anger, and he handled it the only way he knows how.

────୨ৎ────

quality time ➛ ˗ˏˋ this one’s especially intense. tate has nothing but time—literally—and he wants to spend most of it with you. not necessarily doing anything, simply existing in the same room is enough. when you tell him need space, he interprets it as rejection.

jealousy is instant. tate doesn’t trust your friends. in fact, he fucking hates when you spend time with anyone who isn’t him, and he doesn’t always lash out. sometimes it’s this withering silence, bottomless, brown eyes slowly blinking, saying “you forgot about me” without words. that insecurity mutates into guilt-tripping & manipulation. “it’s just better when you’re here,” or “you’re the only light i’ve ever known.” he’s super possessive of your time because it’s the only currency he has left. ˊˎ-

────୨ৎ────

physical touch ➛ ˗ˏˋ tate has little concept of personal space. he’s constantly seeking some form of contact, and that need tends to override any awareness of your boundaries. this behaviour oscillates between harmless gestures such as holding your hand, sitting beside you on the stairs, resting his head in your lap, to slightly more calculated acts of intimacy: sometimes during arguments, he’ll kiss you mid-sentence, press his forehead to yours when you’re trying to think. when he spoons you, he presses so close like he’s trying to merge himself into you. other nights, he asks you—softly, almost embarrassed—to hold him instead. he likes when you wrap your arms around his stomach, tuck your face against the back of his neck. it makes him feel small in a way he doesn’t hate. safe, even.ˊˎ-

────୨ৎ────

receiving gifts ➛ ˗ˏˋ not particularly high on his list—but only because there’s not much tate can offer in the traditional sense. he can’t exactly browse for things when he’s tied to the house. but what he can give, he gives entirely. goes without saying that he he keeps every little thing you’ve ever gifted him. he gives what he can in return. stuff he’s made—love notes, sketches, burned CDs, a rose painted black, or knickknacks from his childhood. ˊˎ-

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[anonmousegosqueak]

Everyone in the 141 (and special guests from KorTac) have something vaguely supernatural about them. (This is a long one so buckle up <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠> )

Price can calm people down really well. That doesn't sound weird at first but there are many situations where he shouldn't be able to. It only works if he's putting a hand on someone's shoulders, and soldiers have reported a 'balm like effect' when he does so. (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Gaz is similar but minus the shoulder thing, if anything physical contact agitated the other person.(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Roach's helmet has wire antenna attached to it, but only when he wears it. This happens with every helmet he wears, antenna will just appear when you blink. He also has survived stuff he shouldn't be able to, got out of a blast relatively unscathed where he should've been a scorched corpse.⊙���﹏⁠⊙

Ghost straight up disappears in dark corners. Like he fell in the void or something. The entire team just lost him once for an hour. Then Gaz looked over his shoulder and he pushed himself of the wall and out of the corner he was last seen in. They all swore to Price that he wasn't there before, but he just gave one of those 'Yeah, definitely believe you...' nods. ಠಿ⁠_⁠ಠ

Soap can tell the worst joke known to man and most will still find it funny. But there is always exactly one person that won't get it. Whenever Soap is doing dumb and his accent really comes out someone/something is playing the bagpipes. Maybe it's coming from a speaker, maybe it's coming from person but it always happens. Everyone thinks Soap is paying someone, Soap thinks someone is just following him around with a bagpipe. I thought of which he finds flattering. (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Other soldiers swear that the few times Horangi has bitten into and enemy soldier that his teeth were strangely sharp. Same with nails (that look more like claws) popping out of his gloves. His clothes are always usually pretty intact minus general scuffing from being on a battlefield. (⁠=⁠｀⁠ェ⁠´⁠=⁠)

König never takes of his hood (did you know it's actually a t-shirt?). Which doesn't sound too odd, privacy is fairly important in their line of work. But whenever he lives it up no one can ever see any facial features, it's like a void. Minus the occasional mouth peeking out to eat something. A recruit swore they saw König lift it up once and there was nothing there besides the big shape of a mouth and eyes. This same recruit also had a deathly high fever so who knows? ┐⁠(⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠)⁠┌

I mean, I think you literally wrote it perfectly. I dunno what to add so I'ma just write what it would be like from the perspective of someone experiencing all these things.

John- one second the world feels like it's ending, bullets flying, death everywhere. You can only watch another person die right in front of you so many times before you wonder when it's your turn. Right as you think it's all over, a warm presence washes over you. It's not even clear what happens at first, you just feel... Safer. Yeah the adrenaline is still very much there but it's calmer, less intense. It's only when you see that smile that everything seems to click into place. You're still breathing, heart still pumping, you're not on the field right now. You're alright, soldier.

Kyle- I think it's a similar effect but not exactly the same. While Price can help calm someone down, Gaz can basically make someone... Smart? A solid hand on your shoulder and it feels like the cloud in your mind is cleared. Like you can think again, remember what you were doing and how to do it. Strategies are back and everything seems more clear and doable. You know what you're doing and y'know what? You *can* do it.

Gary- Roach... Roach is bug. Nothing else to say. You could literally give him the helmet you were JUST WEARING and somehow once he's put it on it'll have those silly little antennae on it. Don't ask questions, just let him be bug. AND HE'D NEVER BURN TO DEATH SHUDDUP

Simon- I think at this point the 141 no not to ask questions. Yeah at the beginning it would freak the Sargent's out but at this point they're used to it. Can't find Lt? Eh, he's in the shadows somewhere. Relax, he'll show up when he wants to. If you can't find him that means he doesn't want to be found.

(⁠☞ﾟ⁠∀ﾟ⁠)⁠☞

Horangi (I'm sorry I can't call him Kim, it sounds wacky) - I think it kinda became a rumor amongst recruits, "yeah Horangi is actually a tiger irl". It was a joke and all, everyone took it like that, especially when someone was talking about Horangi biting a guy's throat out, but uhh- yeah that actually happened. I mean König has been bitten enough that he'd literally believe it, even if he didn't see it. Also Horangi purrs. The end.

König- imagine you're just eating lunch, looking at that one huge, spooky guy who never takes his mask off, and he pulls it up slightly to take another bite of his sandwich and... There's just nothing. Darkness. Like deep shadow that can't be illuminated. The sandwich literally disappears and he pulls the mask back down, only giving you a little look before turning back to whatever paper he wants reading.

Okay that's all! I've been feeling slow today (I haven't slept well since... Ever) so it might not be top notch. Hope you enjoy anyways!

[aftxnrxbxtics]

midnight motorist

William Afton x f! reader

Summary: after committing one of his first crimes, william comes home later than usual, high on adrenaline and ready to take advantage of you.

Warnings: established relationship, blood, slapping, domestic violence, blowjob, deepthroat, dom/sub dynamic, degradation, misogyny kink.

A/N: lately i’ve been obsessed with the midnight motorist minigame so yeah, i did a fic out of it :3 and i hope that you all enjoy this!! <3

It’s late, already past midnight, and there’s a heavy thunderstorm outside that seems endless, shaking the ground and windows with loud lightning strikes.

Usually, at this hour you are already asleep, cuddling with your husband, safe and happy under the warm covers of your bed. But tonight he hasn’t arrived home yet, and that makes you grow worried with each passing minute.

Almost an hour ago, Henry called you, he didn’t talk much but he managed to tell you that an accident had happened outside fredbear’s. He didn’t give you any details, but his voice sounded extremely sad and hurt, at the verge of tears. So that only fueled your anxiety. What if something bad happened to William? or both of them?

Even if you wanted, you can’t go to the restaurant, you have no car of your own and the heavy rain makes it almost impossible to go outside by yourself. There’s nothing you can do. So you decide to stay in the living room, sitting on the couch with a little blanket over you shoulders, just waiting for a call or anything that helps you to understand what’s going on.

Time passes agonizingly slow, and your mind keeps overthinking, imagining every worst escenario possible. You think that maybe you should turn up the tv, just to distract you for a little bit, but you don’t dare to do it, your eyes stay focused on the rain droplets running down the window.

That’s until you see some bright headlights making its way through the front yard.

Excited to see who it is, you take the blanket off and then run to take a better look outside. It’s dark, and the storm is still intense, but you quickly recognize William’s purple car and your heart finally feels at ease.

You rush to the door, throwing yourself at him the moment he steps inside, not even caring about his wet clothes. You’re just happy to have him at home and knowing that he’s fine and out of danger.

But something feels… off. You realize that a few seconds later, when he doesn’t hug you back or asks how your day was, like he always does. Maybe it’s just because he had a bad day? you still don’t know much about the accident at fredbear’s so that could be what got him in a bad mood.

Taking a step back, you immediately notice his bloody clothes. Something bad definitely happened. He got into a fight? Someone was injured? you have no idea, but the stains are very notorious even after the rain washed away most of it.

“Will? what happened?” you ask him, worried again, slowly looking up at his face, just to realize that his glasses are cracked.

“Nothing important” he answers, trying to brush it off, as if it meant nothing to be covered in blood that obviously isn’t his.

“But what about the blood?” you drag your fingers over the wet stains, wanting nothing more than to know exactly what caused them. However, he’s way too irritated to deal with your questions, so he just pushes your hand away. “Please tell me what happened at the restaurant, Henry called me a few hours ago and he-“

Before you can finish what you were saying, you feel an intense burning pain on your left cheek that forces you to look the other way. William just slapped you without hesitation. And even though he didn’t use all of his force, it’s enough to leave a mark and make you shut up.

“Don’t ask questions” he grabs your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks. “Whatever i do at my job is none of your business, you understand?”

“Yes”

“Yes what?” his grip gets stronger, digging his fingers onto your soft skin.

“Yes sir” you answer, letting out a pained moan that brings him satisfaction. There’s something about your cute sounds that he can’t quite resist, and you know it, that’s why you let him treat you so roughly.

William grins at your correct reply, pleased by how compliant you get when he acts in such a violent manner.

“Get on your knees” he demands, removing his hand from your face.

And of course, you know better than to tell him no or ask what does he plan on doing to you. But you can imagine. It’s not the first time he comes home acting like this, completely different from the calm man that he usually is, getting some kind of sick thrill just by inflicting pain on you, whether it’d be physical or emotional.

So after all this years, you’ve learned to do whatever he tells you to, without complaints, letting him use you however he wants. You get on your knees, looking up at him with puppy eyes, praying for him to take it easy on you but at the same time craving the aggressiveness.

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, just enough for him to quickly pull them down and free his hard cock, springing out in front of your face.

He doesn’t need to tell you what to do, you already know what he wants, so you grab his thick velvety cock, wrapping your fist around it. You start slowly, moving it up and down, feeling all of his prominent veins and the underside ridge.

But he’s not in the mood for teasing. A handjob does nothing to him, so he grabs a fistful of your hair and forces your head to come closer, poking your lips with the pink tip of his cock, smudging precum all over them as if it was lipgloss.

You instinctively open your mouth, allowing him inside, taking inch by inch until he reaches the back of your throat. And he leaves it there for a few seconds, just watching as you gag and struggle to breathe.

But you don’t dare to try to push him away with your hands… do you? even less when he’s enjoying the way you choke on his cock, getting teary eyes while he grins in a sadistic manner that makes you sick to your stomach.

“See? you look much prettier when you put that little mouth of yours to better use” he mocks you, slowly dragging it out.

Once his tip is on your tongue, you try to catch your breath, but william doesn’t let you. He pushes his cock inside once again, this time thrusting at a quick pace, using you as nothing more than a fleshlight.

“I hate it when you talk” he continues his deranged ramble. “Even if you’re my wife, you’re just a whore who keeps my bed warm and my balls empty… don’t interfere in my business, you don’t belong there.”

Sure, his words hurt, but you can’t help the tingle between your legs. Your mind is a mess, a part of you wants him to stop and the other one wants him to keep going.

Maybe that’s why william married you, because you’re just as sick as him, and no other girl would stand his violent tendencies. Or maybe, just maybe, he did a good work at brainwashing you. You’ll never know.

“Fuck” he grunts, throwing his head back in pure pleasure, and you know that he’s not going to last longer.

His thrusts start to lose rhythm, his grip on you hair grows stronger, and if it wasn’t for his plaid shirt you’d see his scarred abdomen tensing to the core. However, the tears in your eyes make your vision blurry, so there’s not much for you to enjoy anyway.

Suddenly William reaches his orgasm, slamming his cock into your warm mouth, all the way to the base, spurting thick ropes of hot cum directly to your throat.

“This is your only purpose in life..” he says as he keeps your head in place, with your nose against his grayish pubes. “Being my personal cumdump.”

You can feel his cock twitching, milking himself dry to the last drop. And once he begins to soften, he finally pulls out, letting go of your hair just to immediately fix his pants again.

He doesn’t even ask if you’re ok, and you don’t really think he cares at all, so you stay there for a few seconds, using the back of your hand to clean your tears and the mess of cum and saliva running down your chin.

Now that the rush is over, you regret every second of it. You don’t know why you let him use you in such a rough way, that’s just gonna cause you to have a sore throat for days. And his mood remains the same, taking out all of his anger on you didn’t help to calm him down. It was a useless effort.

“Now go and make me something to eat” William tells you, clearly as an order, taking his belt out of the loops on his pants. “I’m so fucking hungry.”

Before you can say something, he just leaves you there on the ground, making his way through the hallway and then up the stairs. Probably he’s going to look for your step-son, Michael, but you already know that he’s not in his room, you heard him sneak out of the window a few hours ago.

And you know for sure that will make William even more mad, so you get up and go straight to the kitchen, planning to cook something quick so you don’t end up with belt marks all over your body…

[its-time-to-write]

Hello! Maybe one where Nate kisses the reader like he did Keeley but they’re dating Jamie and he gets very upset but then they call him down and it’s sweet at the end ❤️

This one got real intense, real fast. Deals with some trauma after an unwanted kiss, so be discerning when deciding if you want to read this. Jamie’s really sweet, but this mostly ends up as a look at how it feels when someone does something you have a hard time laughing off.

i can’t breathe without you

It all happens so fast, really. One minute you’re alone in the boot room, talking to Nate about his day, and the next his lips are pressed against yours. Your entire mind freezes and all you can think is Jamie, and you must say something to that effect because Nate is bumbling through an apology, something about misreading signals and being an idiot, but what you’re really hearing is that he thinks any girl who is nice to him, is attracted to him. 

You’re not. 

He should have known, your mind reasons. He should have known you were with Jamie. 

All rational thought is overshadowed by tears threatening to fall. You say, “I have to go,” and then flee the boot room, leaving Nate standing there all alone. 

You’re not really sure where you’re going, but you’re running, pushing past people in an effort to just get out and get away from the feeling of his lips on yours. 

I didn’t want it, you tell yourself. Didn’t want, didn’t want, didn’t want. 

You knock into Ted in your rush. “Hey there, darling, you alright?” he asks, all fatherly concern. You nod your head once and then are gone, pushing through the door and out into the parking lot. You’re running, running fast. Anything to have control over the way your body feels, to hit the reset button, to forget. 

Jamie will understand, he loves you, he’ll understand, your mind tells you. 

You push it away, because now is not a time for hope. Jamie is a man, and they are all the same. Your ex, Connor, broke up with you when a boy kissed you at a frat party. Never mind that you were shoving him off you before his lips even made contact. Never mind that you had been trying to turn your head away. Never mind that he had seen the whole fucking thing and still decided that you were, in his words, “too easy.”

You’re so distracted by your thoughts and your desperate escape that you barely register Sam’s voice and sprint to catch you until his hand has reached for your arm and you violently shake it away, saying, “don’t touch me,” voice hoarse. 

He instantly lets go and backs up, hands in the air. 

You must look feral, eyes wide, hair flying. Face white. 

Sam’s face has concern written all over it as he asks, softer, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you say, just a bit too forcefully. “I’m fine, I just, his lips and I didn’t want it, I swear I didn’t, I didn’t even do anything, but I feel them, and I didn’t do anything I promise, please, please don’t tell Jamie.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until tears fall onto your shoe. Sam’s previous concern has nothing on how he is now. He is downright worried. 

“Do you need me to call someone?” he asks. 

“No!” you reply. “No. I’m fine. It’s just- Nate kissed me, and I promise I didn’t want him to, he just did, and it’s probably my fault but I love Jamie, not Nate, and I need him to know that, ok? I can’t, how am I supposed to keep going, I can’t-” You’re beginning to hyperventilate now. Sam’s hands are up, like he’s calming a wild animal. 

“Hey. Hey now. Why don’t you sit down. It’s alright, it’s just you and me. Take a deep breath for me, alright? Follow my lead.”

You follow Sam’s directives and sit with your head between your legs. Sam takes a moment to type out a message to Coach Beard, while you’re distracted. It says, Find Nate before Jamie does, because who else would it be, and Sam knows Beard will be able to assess and handle the situation properly. Meanwhile, he’s got to calm you down. 

—

Inside the locker room, Beard’s phone dings. He looks away from where Ted is talking to Jamie and then frowns. What are the odds this text is related to you bumping into Ted? Beard, betting man that he is, is sure they’re good. He goes to find Nate. 

Nate is still in the boot room, acting as if nothing’s wrong. 

He looks up in surprise when Beard walks in. 

“Oh, um, hello,” he says. “Is everything alright?”

So he’s clocked Beard’s angry face. At least he’s not a complete imbecile. 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Beard replies, arms crossed and face stony as ever. “What happened to Jamie’s girlfriend?”

One stammer from Nate is all Beard needs to hear. 

—

Ted tells Jamie, and Jamie is livid. Ted’s phone dings with a help please text from Sam because he has no idea how to help you, and Jamie’s anger reaches a whole new level. 

Beard thinks they should let Jamie have a go at Nate. Roy agrees, and thinks maybe Jamie could use some help. Nate isn’t present, Beard says something about being stuck in the boot room with the handle broken off. Ted knows Beard well enough to know exactly what happened, but now isn’t the time to comment. Beard has both punished and protected Nate, and there are more pressing things at hand. You, for starters. And Jamie, with murder on his mind. 

“Jamie,” Ted says, “I’m gonna need you to listen real good. I don’t know your girl very well, but I do know she has a sweet spirit. You go out there guns blazing, and it’s just going to validate every crushing thought she has about herself.” 

Jamie opens his mouth to speak but Ted puts up a hand. “Doesn’t matter that you’re not mad at her, she’ll take it that way. Things like this are tricky. You want her to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are 100% on her team.” Ted stops. “You are on her team, ain’t you?”

Jamie stares at him. “You think I fucking blame her for that prick mistaking her bein’ nice for flirting?” 

Ted shrugs. “She ever told you ‘bout her last boyfriend? Matter of fact, she ever tell you about any of her other relationships? You might be surprised what kinda boys are out there pretending to be men. Now, I gotta go make sure she’s gonna be ok. You,” he points to Roy, “don’t let Jamie out till he’s calmed down. You,” he points to Beard, “go figure out a way to get Nate unstuck from the boot room.”

Beard says, “consider it done, Coach,” and Roy just grunts. 

Ted is gone, and it’s just the three of them and their separate manifestations of their anger. 

—

Your head is still on your knees when you hear footsteps approaching. Sam has been sitting on his haunches, two feet away from you. Close enough so you’re not alone, far enough to give you some space. 

The footsteps make your head jerk up. The fear in your eyes is enough to break Ted’s heart. He’s never had a daughter, but he’ll be damned if this isn’t how a father must feel. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, crouching down, voice soft. “What can I do you for?”

His voice is just reminiscent enough of your own father’s that you launch yourself into his arms, crying. 

“Sh, sh, it’s alright, I’ve got you,” Ted says. You have a death grip on him. “Just let it out.”

You’ve almost completely cried yourself out when Ted says, “What do you want to say?”

You pull away and sit back on the curb, hand covering half your face. You shake your head. 

“It’s alright, darlin’. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just want to know what’s wrong so I can help.”

You choke out “Jamie,” and both Ted and Sam are surprised enough that neither of them know what to say. They wait for you to continue. 

A few more tears fall before you say, “I just love him so much. I don’t want to lose him. I need him to know that I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want it. I wasn’t flirting, I swear. He just kissed me out of nowhere and I can’t get rid of the feeling, I just can’t-” You start wiping your lips violently with the back of your hand. 

“Hey, hey listen- listen to me,” Ted says. You lower your trembling hand. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that your whole body is shaking. 

“None of this, and believe me when I do say ‘none,’ is your fault. Jamie ain’t like those other boys you were with. He knows who you are. You did nothing wrong. He’s hopping mad, sure, but not at you. His hearts in the right place. He loves you, and I’m pretty sure if you gave him half a chance, he’d love you forever. There’s nothing that’s going to change that.”

You’re beginning to register Ted’s words. You’re glad he and Sam are out here, and that you’re not alone. Vaguely, you hear the building door open from across the parking lot. There’s a different set of footsteps now, running ones, that come to a crashing halt in front of you. 

You flinch. 

You hear Jamie inhale jerkily and dare to look upward. 

He looks a mess, eyes red and hair mussed. He kneels down slowly to where you’re curled up. 

He doesn’t even know where to begin with you flinching, but by god every breath Nathan Shelley draws is just one closer to his reckoning. 

Jamie breathes out your name, and finally, finally, you make solid eye contact. He reaches for you, and you take his hand, letting him draw you into his lap.

He holds you and rocks back and forth, whispering into your hair while the others quietly get up and back away. 

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. It’s just you and me. I love you and I’ve got you.”

He’s got you, you tell your mind. 

Yes, your brain agrees, he’s got you and he loves you.

[ohmtoff]

Shots, shots, shots (Part 1)

Nick Sturniolo x Masc!OC

Summary: Nick is most definitely not having fun at a frat party Madi dragged him to, but this boy who’s staring at him hungrily may help him to have a good time (or: a very cliche and very self-indulgent fic of Nick getting it on with a frat bro)

WC: 4.8k

Contains: college!AU, frat bro!oc, drinking games, making out

Disclaimer: no smut yet, smut is in the next part. not an american, idk anything ab frat culture and the american college system in general, so there’s gna be some inaccuracies. this is just based on the frat fics ive read and my own college experiences.

a/n: was supposed to be a one-shot but i suddenly wrote 10k words💀 although i know nothing ab frat culture, how my american friends describe it is basically like any faculty organization in an indonesian uni lmao so hope my knowledge of how those orgs work help this a slight bit. anyways hope you enjoyyy <333

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Nick is most definitely not having fun.

He frowns as he feels the bitter burn of his fifth (or was it sixth?) shot going down, tipping his head back to get it to go down easily, well and truly smashed at this point. Madi would be proud. Speaking of… he hasn’t seen his best friend since they arrived at the party, the girl pestering him for hours earlier in the day to come party with her. Madi is tired of listening about The Breakup, and to be honest, Nick is too, but he didn’t agree to come with Madi only to have his supposedly best friend ditch him at the door, leaving him alone at a frat party where he knows absolutely no one. Especially not just so she can run off and suck face with some junior.

Nick spies his best friend making out with a boy he doesn’t know, back to him through the haze of the crowd, barely visible in the shitty purple LED lighting, especially with everyone packed into the house like sardines, the place filled to over capacity so that no one can move without being pressed up against someone or another. Well, unless they are sticking to the wall like Nick currently is. And he’s about to go give his friend a piece of his goddamn mind when he hears the voice beside him, his irritation still visible on his face as he turns to look.

“Hey.” The boy is staring at him with an intensity that is disarming, dark eyes set in an intense unwavering gaze as he looks, just enough light to make out the half-smile on the other boy’s face, only one corner of his mouth upturned slightly. The boy’s hair is half in his face, looking damp and mussed like he’s just stepped out of the shower. And Nick trails his gaze downwards, appreciating the other boy’s outfit, a black t-shirt with some obscure band logo, sleeves cut-off hastily, clearly homemade, the edges ragged, showing off the nice curves of the boy’s shoulders, the definition of his upper arms from hitting the gym obvious. All thrown over a pair of oversized black jeans.

The other boy is looking at him like he wants him, and Nick is too far gone to stop the delicious pit of arousal churning in his stomach, the euphoria going straight to his head, making him dizzy with desire. He’s not the type Nick usually goes for, in fact, the boy is the exact opposite of his ex, but that doesn’t stop his body from screaming fuck me now. “I haven’t seen you around before. Transfer or something?”

The question makes Nick give out a little snort of laughter. “No, not at all. Just not my scene.”

“Oh?” The boy raises an eyebrow questioningly, his tone clearly teasing as he slides in closer to avoid another boy trying to make his way past the two of them squeezed into the corner. Nick inhales sharply as the boy moves in closer, trapping him, his back pressed up against the wall with no room to go back further, the other boy bringing his arms up to brace against the wall, forming a makeshift barrier around Nick, casually caging him in. As he does, the smell of beer hits his nose, a smell he normally despises, but it’s mixing with something the boy is wearing underneath, something sweet and woody, and the combination is fucking intoxicating. “And what would be your scene then?”

He ignores the question, not wanting to say that maybe his scene is in his room, pitifully stuffing himself with fast food and crying into Madi’s shoulder about his ex months after the breakup, choosing instead to shift the topic, mumbling.  “You smell like shitty ass beer.”

“Shit, sorry.” The boy relaxes his arms, his face softening into a sheepish apologetic look that Nick finds almost endearing, backing up a step so that he’s not so deep into Nick’s personal space, and Nick takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartrate. “Got doused with beer earlier when they were spraying it into the crowd.”

“Seems like a waste of alcohol if you ask me.” The unexpected response makes the other boy’s eyes go wide, a moment of silence before he bursts out into raucous laughter.

“Yeah, shit, it probably is.” Nick hates that his breath hitches automatically as the other boy runs his hand through his black hair, shaking his head in apparent exasperation, looking unfortunately all too attractive in the process. “Imagine how many people could be more drunk than they already are if they hadn’t wasted all that beer.” The boy shoots him a grin, which he finds himself returning, or at least he hopes he is.

“So how did you get here?”

“My best friend, Madi. She dragged me here.” Nick admits, a slight eye-roll accompanying the statement. “Otherwise there’s no way I would come to a party in a dump like this. Complete shithole. Floor is disgusting, and the whole place looks like it’s going to collapse in on itself if they throw another couple of parties.” He finds himself having to yell to be heard, the music playing far too loud, the bass turned up so that he can quite literally feel the floorboards vibrating underneath his feet.

To Nick’s surprise and appreciation, the other boy appears to take an interest in listening to him, craning in closer and cocking his head to the side to hear better. His ex was an asshole that wouldn’t bother to make sure he was comfortable at parties, even after knowing Nick didn’t love large crowds, preferring to hang out with small groups of people instead. Plus points.  “Oh, I know Madi, met her at a general ed class last semester. She’s also friends with one of the frat bros here, I think. Nate. Anyways, enough about your friend. I haven’t even gotten your name yet.”

“It’s Nick.”

“Nick.” The other boy repeats it, long and drawn out as he rolls the sound around in his mouth, and the thought of the other boy saying his name as encouragement flashes in his head, mentally kicking himself for even thinking about blowing this complete stranger already within ten minutes of meeting. It’s the alcohol talking, definitely the alcohol. He desperately tries to repeat it to himself and believe it as he watches the other boy bite his lower lip in thought. Fuck. Yeah, so maybe it isn’t the alcohol making him want this boy. Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t been fucked since The Breakup. Which was 3 months ago. Nick scowls. Fuck Madi for telling him he needs to get laid, and double fuck Madi for being right.

“And yours?”

“Evan. My name’s Evan.” The name sounds familiar, but Nick can’t quite place it, putting aside the feeling for now, instead choosing to concentrate on his plan of perhaps getting laid tonight. Which shouldn’t be hard considering the way Evan is looking at him right now. Like he wants to ravish Nick. With maybe a touch of possessiveness. Nick doesn’t mind the possessiveness, as long as they don’t go overboard. Possessive makes for a good fuck.

He gives in.

I’m here already, might as well have a good time.

He turns on the flirtiest smile he has, his lips curling into a natural irresistible pout as he keeps talking, his hand coming up to brush Evan’s arm, his fingertips lightly grazing the other boy’s bicep. Very obvious, very forward. No one would ever accuse Nick of being subtle, especially when it comes to getting what or who he wants. “Well, Evan, since this does seem to be your scene and not mine, what would you say to being responsible for me having a fun time tonight?” The words have the desired effect, Nick tracing the tightening of the other boy’s jaw with his eyes, pleased at the barely veiled show of restraint.

Nick feels a shiver of anticipation run up his spine as Evan leans forwards, tilting his head downwards as he speaks, the other boy’s hot breath against his earlobe, pressed in so close that Nick can feel the ghost of a touch from Evan’s lips. He isn’t able to prevent the gasp from escaping when he feels the other boy’s tongue, teeth giving him a quick nip. “Well, tonight’s your lucky night, baby. I am at your service. For anything you want.”

The words make Nick bristle, bringing both palms up to push at the other boy’s chest, startling Evan into stepping back off-balanced. “I don’t like being called baby.” He mutters. “Don’t do that.” His ex had called him baby, as an insult, somehow managing to insinuate every time that Nick was too demanding, too high maintenance, turning the word into a mocking reprimand each time. “My ex used to use that.” He pauses a beat. “Not in a good way.”

“Oh, shit.” Evan frowns, his eyebrows drawn together giving almost a menacing look, and Nick feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of Evan losing interest. Maybe I came off too strong. “Your ex sounds like an asshole.” He lets out the breath he doesn’t even realize he was holding, a ripple of relief running through him. “And all I meant…” Nick’s breath catches as the other boy slides his hand underneath his chin, tilting it upwards as he speaks. “…is that you look pretty. Delicate. Like someone who deserves to get everything they want.”

Everything they want.

The words make Nick flush, the heat crawling up the base of his neck, stinging his cheeks. I want you. And his first instinct is to throw all caution to the wind and regret his decisions tomorrow morning after the alcohol has worn off, when there isn’t a buzz in his veins making him want to throw himself at this boy. And he desperately wants it to be just a physical thing, after all, he doesn’t really know this guy. He could turn out to be some weirdo psychopath for all he knows, but damn it if it doesn’t make him feel good that this boy thinks he deserves everything. But before he can open his mouth and resign himself to his fate, a hand appears on Evan’s shoulder, accompanied by the loud voice of another boy.

“Hey, bro.” The hand on Evan’s shoulder becomes an arm pulling the taller boy into a half-headlock of sorts. “Not like you to hide away in the corner for so long. Don’t you miss being the life of our party?” The boy turns slightly, catching a glimpse of him, and Nick becomes acutely aware that he’s probably gaping. “Oh, I see now.” The boy gives him a salacious and knowing wink, casting a sidelong glance at Evan. “You must be the reason our leader here is hiding instead of greeting the guests.”

Leader?

The new boy smiles at him, bringing his free hand up in a little wave of acknowledgment. “I’m Nate, by the way.” Nate squints, giving him a careful once-over, and Nick feels like squirming, getting the distinct feeling that he is being sized up though he doesn’t know for what. “You’re Nick, aren’t you?” Nate grins excitedly at the realization. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Madi.”

Nick furrows his brows thinking how does he know Madi and why Madi’s talking about him, getting more lost within the conversation by the second. “Madi said he’d be your type, and it looks like he was right. Fuck.” Nate lets out a string of profanity, “Fuck me, Evan. That means I owe her fifty bucks. So really, fuck you.” Nate narrows his eyes at Evan, who isn’t even trying to hide his mirth, chortling at his friend’s distressed expression. “Unless, you two dickwads set me up.”

Evan shakes his head. “No, man, I didn’t even know who he was until he gave me his name.”

“Fuck.” Nate lets out one last swear in a drawn out sigh, smiling fondly at Evan. “Well, I hate to interrupt the overwhelming sexual tension between you two, but I do think our new president should give a speech at our first party of the year.”

“President?” Nick echoes the word without meaning to, the sound of loud buzzing in his ears drowning out the sound of everything else around them, noting the shit-eating grin on Evan’s face that is getting wider by the minute.

“Yeah, president of Chi Alpha Omega. You know, the ones hosting this party right now.”

Nick can feel the color draining from his face, accompanied by some wooziness in his head. Madi had told him about the president of ΧΑΩ before, about how he “got around” quite frequently, always with someone new every other weekend. And apparently in no short supply of people who want to casually hook-up with him. In short, a player through and through. And Nick can’t tell whether he’s disappointed that Evan is probably not interested in any type of relationship or just excited that the boy is likely a really good fuck. Or both.

But none of that really even matters because he had literally called Evan’s house a shithole.

Fuck.

Evan winks at him before turning to Nate. “Yeah, I can definitely say a few words. And by the way, Nick here thinks we should probably stop spraying beer into the crowd to hype up the party.” He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the overly serious and solemn expression on Evan’s face as he says that. “Apparently we’ve been wasting alcohol when we could be using it to get everyone even more drunk.” Nick wants to sink into the floor at the other boy’s next words, hoping desperately that the ground can swallow him up.

“And he’s also made me aware of the fact that apparently, we live in a shithole.”

Nate’s eyes go wide. Nick wants to kill himself.

“Well, not exactly a lie.” Nate laughs, clearly bemused by his worried expression. “We’ve been trying to get administration to move us out of this shithole for ages. They just won’t do it. So we figure if we throw a few extra ragers this year, and this dumpster fire of a house finally breaks, maybe they’ll consider letting us have a different building for the frat house.”

“Wait, so…” Nick says the words slowly, his head slow to catch up, not quite believing what he’s hearing. “…you all actually want to break this house. Like that’s your actual plan, and I’m not stuck in some weird-ass twilight zone time warp imagining this.”

“Correct.” Evan nods.

“You all are fucking crazy.”

“Correct.”

“Sooo, about that speech Evan?” Nate asks, stealing another glance at Nick. “Any time soon? Or am I assuming that you’re gonna be busy for the next hour or so?”

The implication makes him half-cringe on the inside. Is it that obvious?

“Yeah, of course, now is fine.” And then Nick feels the other boy’s hand around his, Evan’s fingers settling to interlock with his naturally as if they belong there, warm and inviting. A little overly warm, probably the alcohol. But it feels nice, gives him the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest for the first time in a long time. “You’re coming with me, baby.” Nick wants to protest the nickname, but he isn’t given the opportunity to, finding himself being dragged along by the taller boy, weaving through the crowd of people deftly, trying to keep close to the other boy’s back, his free hand reaching out to grab the untucked edge of Evan’s t-shirt. The other boy heads to the kitchen, passing by the crowd that is busy dancing, flirting, and Nick reminds himself to yell at Madi tomorrow, spotting his best friend out of the corner of his eye still attached to the face of a guy.

The kitchen is slightly less crowded, the only people slipping in and out to grab more beer or shots, the entire kitchen counter covered with half empty alcohol—rum, vodka, gin, whiskey. God, how much booze do they have?  Evan doesn’t let go of his hand as he opens the fridge, rummaging around before finally coming up with another handle of vodka. The taller boy just shakes his head as Nate gives him a questioning look. And then Nick follows as he is dragged along again, making their way back to the living room, heading straight towards the epicenter of all the noise in the house. Evan finally lets go of his hand, and Nick feels a twinge of concern as he watches the other boy climb up onto the ping pong table, ignoring the cry of protests from the people playing beer pong. No way he’s sober enough for this.  Somehow Evan’s voice is louder than the music, his voice floating above the noise.

“Hey, we having fun tonight?” The cheers and hoots rise up from the crowd, Evan clearly reveling in the attention, waving his arms to tell everyone to pump up the noise, and they do. After a minute or so of cheering, the other boy puts his finger to his lips in a shushing motion, quieting the crowd.

“Here’s to the first party of many this year for Chi Alpha Omega. As the president for this year, hope to see all of you underclassmen at rush in the spring.” Evan grins, and Nick hates that the other boy is so charismatic, everyone in the room turning to hang on to his every word. “And to kick off a good night, how about yours truly start off a round of body shots?” The crowd hoots and hollers. “First up, my newest friend, Nick.” He feels himself outright blushing this time, Evan looking downwards to wink at him, some of the people in the front of the crowd turning to stare.

He startles as Evan jumps down from the ping pong table, landing unevenly, grabbing on to his shoulder for balance before scooting back on to the table to take a seat, his legs hanging off the edge. “How about it, baby?”

And he’s about to object, but his mind goes completely blank as Evan crosses his arms over his chest, gripping the hem of his t-shirt in order to pull it up over his head, the other boy’s arm muscles tightening. The skin above Evan’s jeans comes into view first, the white band of the other boy’s Calvin Klein boxers just peeking out from the top, a sharp contrast from the smooth tan of Evan’s skin on top and the black of his jeans on the bottom. Nick can see a glimpse of the other boy’s hip bones, sharp and defined, and his gaze trails further upward to his belly button, abs slightly visible as Evan moves, and all the way up to the other boy’s chest.

But it’s the tattoo that makes Nick stop breathing.

It’s intricate, clearly well done and by a tattoo artist that cares about how the finished product looks, a revolver with its barrel pointing downwards, the tip disappearing under the white of the other boy’s boxers. And Nick doesn’t think he’s ever had a specific thing for guns. But fuck. Because he wants to think that he’s better than this, better than having the only thought running through his head being it’s pointing to his cock. And the overwhelming urge to find out just exactly how true it is.

“You’re up, baby.” The words make Nick snap his glance upwards, tearing his gaze away from the ink on the other boy’s skin, the embarrassment flitting through him as he realizes how long he had been staring, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Evan, who is grinning at him, definitely amused. He’s already poured the shot, messily spilling at least two shot’s worth of vodka on the ping pong table, and Nick experiences a stroke of utter insanity, the words coming out before he can stop them.

“You should probably clean that up.”

“Hmm, maybe later.”

“It’s going to get sticky.”

“Maybe I like sticky.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that the whole scene is probably bizarre as fuck, talking about cleaning while the whole room is waiting for him to take a shot off a boy he doesn’t even know. But Nick feels as if he’s in a haze, entirely blocking out the rest of the room as Evan crooks a finger at him, motioning for him to get closer, the other boy’s legs parting on the table, stretching apart to give him room to fit in between, and Nick is uncomfortably aware of Evan’s jeans, the material stretching over the other’s boy’s thighs, even tighter now that Evan is sitting.

“Come.”

He comes.

The shiver of arousal runs through him as he gets closer, coming up to the edge of the table, Evan winking at him as he squeezes Nick’s sides slightly with his thighs, making the feeling curl deliciously in his groin. And the other boy lies down slowly, not breaking eye contact with Nick as he does, and god help him, because it only makes the outline of the other boy’s abs deepen. Fuck. The shot glass is placed right over Evan’s belly button, wobbling as the other boy breathes in and out, and Nick winces as Evan starts off a chant of encouragement.

“Drink, drink, drink.”

Fuck it, it’s just one shot.

He doesn’t try to overthink it, leaning down with his head to clumsily grasp the shot glass with his mouth, intending on throwing his head back and downing the vodka all at once. He tells himself it doesn’t mean anything as he braces his palms against the other boy’s thighs, enjoying the feeling of muscle underneath his hands. But he’s not used to the motion, not able to use his hands, and he ends up spilling half of it, feeling Evan’s thighs tense around his waist as the cold liquid hits the other boy’s bare skin, some of the vodka settling into the crevices of Evan’s abs, already starting to slide off his body.

Nick doesn’t know why he does it.

But the next instant, his tongue is on Evan’s skin, feeling the other boy tense as he does it, licking the rest of the vodka off of the other boy, the feeling of burning still in the back of his throat from the half he does drink, dipping his tongue in to run along the grooves of Evan’s abs, the slight saltiness of the other boy’s sweat mixing with the taste of alcohol. And he’s pressing half-kisses, half sloppy licks against the other boy’s skin, the tips of his fingers reaching upwards from where they’re resting against Evan’s thighs to brush against the boy’s sharp hipbones, an inch or so above his jeans.

As he dips his tongue into his belly button, Evan bucks his hips upwards, the wanting movement making the arousal go straight to his cock. And he tells himself it’s because he’s trying to clean every last bit of vodka off of Evan’s body, but it isn’t the alcohol giving him a high as he runs the tip of his tongue slowly down the barrel of the gun tattoo that Evan has, the thought of going further and further down until he reaches the other boy’s cock making him hot and dizzy. The thought of Evan holding his head down and tugging on his hair as he gives the other boy a blowjob. Further, further. Evan squirms as he licks his way downwards over the exposed skin, and Nick wonders if it tickles, his nose already nudging the edge of the other boy’s boxers.

A bad fucking idea.

And he’s just about to pull away, the feeling of regret mixed with horror hitting him as he surfaces from his reckless decision, half-aware that they’re still in a very public room for the first time since Evan had told him Come, when he feels it. Evan half-hard against his palm, his hand accidentally brushing too close to the other boy’s inner thighs as he tries to move back, and before he can process that fact, everything around him moves.

Nick yelps as he feels Evan’s hands on the back of his thighs, dangerously close to his ass, and he’s suddenly being lifted up into the air, his legs coming up to wrap themselves around the other boy’s waist, his hands grabbing at Evan’s shoulders to balance himself. He vaguely hears the sound of catcalls coming from the crowd, his head falling forward, his face buried into the crook of the other boy’s neck, the smell of beer in Evan’s hair and that smell of wood and vanilla. A few quick strides, and Nick finds his back up against the wall for the second time tonight, Evan’s hips pressed into him, grinding him up against the wall as he plants kisses against Nick’s neck.

The other boy is definitely completely hard now, the feeling against his thigh each time Evan moves his hips making the arousal tighten in Nick’s groin. And it’s a fleeting thought, that he is grateful for wearing a white tank top, giving Evan free access, the other boy’s tongue darting out to run itself along the top of Nick’s collarbones, sucking likely-to-be-hickeys into his skin hungrily.

His fingers curl themselves into the other boy’s hair for purchase, needing something to grab onto as he writhes in Evan’s embrace, his eyes closed, his breath coming out ragged. An unbidden moan comes forth as he feels Evan sneak his hands underneath his tank top, the other boy’s fingers splayed against the skin at his waist, his thumbs digging into the spot just above his hipbones. Evan’s hands feel hot against his skin, burning into him more than he thought possible, and Nick’s eyes flutter open only to remember that everyone is still there, that they’re not alone.

“W-wait,” The words come out weakly in between little pants and far too soft for Evan to hear anyway, and Nick wonders if the idea of the other boy fucking him against the wall in front of a crowd of people should turn him on as much as it does. Fuck.

“Get a fucking room!”

The loud jeer seems to snap Evan out of it, the other boy stopping his attack against Nick’s neck long enough for him to catch his breath. Most of the room has gone back to whatever they were doing before, and it’s nearly impossible to pick out whoever had yelled it. “Don’t mind if I do.” Evan grins at him, not waiting for a proper response. “Hold on.” Nick just manages to get his arms around Evan’s shoulders before the other boy starts moving, hoisting him up slightly to get a better grip on the underside of his thighs, Evan’s chin nestled into his shoulder, the other boy’s breathing hot on his neck.

The sounds of the party slowly start to fade away as they ascend the stairs to the second floor, the stairway narrow and not lit, and Nick winces as he is jostled against the wall a few times on their way up, Evan’s steps not as steady he would have hoped. All he can hear now is the other boy’s breathing, slow and deep, the sound comforting, and Nick breathes in and out to match the other boy’s. I wonder if Madi was right, and I’m his type.  And he’s sure that he’s Evan’s type physically, the whole display downstairs has convinced him of that, but for the first (okay, maybe second or third) time tonight, he has the niggling suspicion that he might like it if he is Evan’s type for more, the way the other boy puts him at ease so naturally and effortlessly perhaps giving him more butterflies than he’d care to admit.

His mind unwillingly flashes him scenes on what it would be like dating Evan. Would he like his eggs scrambled or poached? What shows would they binge together? Would Evan show him off to his frat brothers?

Evan licks a stripe behind his ear where he’s most sensitive. Ah, fuck it. Who cares about dating? Nick knows he’s going to get fucked till he forgets his own name tonight.  

tags: @thenickgirl @mybelovednick @sukiipjs

[leejenowrld]

Hello pretty 💕

Your brain is so f r e a k I n g sexy omg 😮

Also I feel like this us so late B U T

I remember reading one anon dropping an thought about I think my first and last ( MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE BTW! I RE-READ IT WEEKLY LIKE ITS MY BIBLE 👀 NO OFFENSE SO ANY RELIGION!!!!) and it was about how Jeno and y/n had a one night thing : so like jeno had a fith some(?) and like once he was like inside of y/n OUR SEXY MAN got obsessed like he pushed of the other girls and only cared about being intimate with y/n ( SORRY I AM SO AKWARD AT WRITING SEXY STUFF 😭) and after that he grew even more obsessed and couldn't get hard by anyone else and just is such a silly lil cutie for her.

DO YOU REMEMBER THAT? CAUSE IT DOES NOT LEAVE MY MIND! I AM OBSESSED EITH THAT.

Do you think you could still my hunger and elaborate/ give some headcanon or thoughts on how this could turn out based on your characters?

Love youuuuu

hiiii thank you so much 🥺 i honestly can’t believe how much love mfal gets… it’s always gonna be so incredibly special to me <333 and im so happy you guys love it as much as i do. i haven’t written mfal content in a while so here you go :) enjoy

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jeno’s wild reputation was something everyone knew about. his sexual past wasn’t just a whisper—it was a loud, unapologetic legacy. he’d been the guy who didn’t think twice about hooking up with random girls at parties, the one who’d dive headfirst into orgies, threesomes, or anything that fed his insatiable appetite for thrill and pleasure. his body count was high enough to be a campus joke, but jeno didn’t care. he thrived in the chaos of it all—the quick fucks, the anonymous hands on his skin, the breathless moments that meant nothing the second they were over. he was confident, cocky even, and the attention only fueled his endless hunger.

but then there was you.

you weren’t just another face in the crowd, another fleeting body to conquer. you were different, even before he could fully understand why. it wasn’t about sex at first—not at all. it was the way you challenged him, how your presence lingered in his mind long after he’d walked away. as the two of you started getting to know each other, forming a tentative friendship, something in jeno began to shift. the nights he used to spend tangled in someone else’s sheets started feeling empty, meaningless. for the first time in his life, he found himself hesitating, turning girls down without even realizing it. he didn’t want them anymore—not when his thoughts were so completely consumed by you.

and then there was the first time he had you.

jeno had thought he knew everything there was to know about sex—every position, every way to make someone come undone. but with you, it was entirely different. it wasn’t just about the mechanics or the thrill. it was about the way your body molded to his, the way your soft gasps turned into desperate moans, the way your fingers dug into his back as if you couldn’t bear to let him go. sliding into you for the first time was like nothing he’d ever experienced. you were so tight, so warm, and the way you clenched around him had his head spinning. it wasn’t just sex; it was consuming, overwhelming, addictive.

he couldn’t get enough—the slow roll of his hips, the way your nails raked down his skin, the broken cries of his name spilling from your lips. the way your body responded to his every touch, the way you surrendered completely but also met him halfway, made him feel like he was drowning in you. jeno lost himself in the rhythm, the heat, the sheer intimacy of it all. he couldn’t stop whispering how perfect you felt, how you were made for him, how he couldn’t believe he’d ever settled for anything less.

and it wasn’t just that first time. every time with you was like that—intense, raw, and utterly consuming. no matter how many times he had you, it was never enough. he’d memorize the way your body reacted to him, the way you’d moan his name like a prayer, the way your legs would tremble around him when he pushed you over the edge. it wasn’t just sex—it was connection, obsession, and love all tangled together in a way that left him breathless every single time.

jeno didn’t just stop sleeping around because of you. he stopped because no one else even came close. the idea of touching anyone else, of letting anyone else touch him, made him feel physically ill. you were it for him—the only one who mattered, the only one who could make him feel alive in a way nothing else ever had. he was addicted to you, to the way you made him feel, to the way you let him be himself without judgment.

and now, jeno wasn’t just the guy with the wild past. he was yours—entirely, completely, and without hesitation. he’d trade every meaningless hookup, every fleeting thrill, for just one more night with you, for one more chance to lose himself in everything you were. you weren’t just his lover; you were his anchor, his obsession, his everything.

[exaltedfuzz]

Someone already pointed out that you always tend to draw Lana tired and I agree, it feels just right!

Because Lana takes care of Ema and the household since she was a She cooks healthy because of Ema, listens to Ema‘s school day, plays with her, helps her when she has a question because of her school work.

All of that while remaining the top of her class in law school. She has so much responsibility and Lana doesn‘t even seem like the person that complained at least once because of it. And also remember that a lot of colleagues, like Angel Starr, used to look up to her. She endures the responsibility and she‘s honestly such a great role model for me!

Not to put Mia Fey down, but consider this: in contrast to Mia, who had at least her aunt Fey to teach her all of this stuff, Lana probably had no one. In contrast to Mia, who actually left Maya live alone, Lana took care of Ema.

Lana Skye is underrated, so f* underrated.

Thanks for liking the way I draw Lana! I think, yeah... She'd be exhausted. Full-time everything. I don't know that I'd call her a role model, considering how RFTA goes, though... Admirable, sure! But, you know... The whole evidence forgery and desecration of a corpse deal might lose her a couple points in the role model department.

It is super nice to imagine what it was like for Ema growing up! I really wish we got to see them interacting outside of RFTA. Maybe in AA7, though I'm not sure I'd trust the AA5-6 team to pull it off. More hopefully, maybe in the anime! I can't believe RFTA just didn't get an adaptation. I guess it is a bit of a sidestep from the trilogy narrative. Hopefully when (if?) AJ gets adapted, they'll do RFTA as a primer to introduce Ema. Maybe we'd get treated to some filler fluff, to make how Lana is in RFTA really punch you in the gut.

I don't know that Lana was as profoundly alone the whole time as she could have been, either. It says in RFTA that Jake was very close to her and that Neil was like her own brother (and that Jake was nice to Ema), so I figure they would have been some help. And Lana has that coroner friend in Germany who Ema lived with between RFTA and AJ (really wish we got to meet her! All we know is that she's a top coroner, a woman, and in Europe, from Lana's end credits of RFTA dialogue), so it seems like she had a bit of a support circle, which is nice to think about.

It's interesting what you say about Mia. I have some thoughts on that, actually. I wouldn't say what she went through would have been much easier. I think that while Lana's approach is to grin and bear it, and take the path of least resistance, which involves just getting on with it and looking after Ema without searching for any help in that, Mia's is very confrontational of her circumstances. The reason she leaves Maya is to find Misty, to clear her name and to try to reclaim that family she's lost. I imagine Maya would have lived with Morgan too.

A thing I've been thinking, actually, is that Morgan would probably have been delighted to see Mia go off to become a hotshot lawyer, in some ways. Gets the number one heir to the Kurain channelling school out of her hair if she ends up acclimatising to city life and settling down. This would probably be why Morgan never tried to kill Maya until 2-2, since there was the chance Maya would go off and join her sister, just leaving Pearl to take up the mantle.

I guess after Mia dies, it'd be reasonable to assume Maya would get scared off from leaving the village, so Morgan would have to take things into her own hands. So I think Maya probably, though lonely, didn't get off too badly. Morgan wouldn't hurt her if Mia was alive, either, because we see that Mia does get crazy intense at times. There's that little comic (not sure where from) where she snaps the (kendo?) sword over Nick, for one, and there's also her (IIRC) punching Grossberg in T&T... Or, at least, that piece of official art where she's dragging Nick around by his scarf. If anything happened to Maya, Mia would probably strangle Morgan. Then, as well, Pearl says she met Mia. So Mia must have been visiting a bit.

It's a very different context that both Lana and Mia operate in... At the end of the day, the most important thing for both characters is their family, and what they see as the best thing to do for them. Don't pit two GOATs against each other...

Anyway, whoops. Most of this was about Mia. Super glad you like my Lana stuff! I think she's a wonderful character, and definitely underrated.