#and it sounds like he’s just being nice

[misswynters]

Ma Meilleure Amour

featuring. ekko x fem!reader

a/n. doing my duty as a writer to fill the ekko tag with fics of him only (it’s translated to my best love)

inspired by. the song Ma Meilleure Ennemie and the scene with ekko and jinx in act iii (listen to it while reading)

Everything felt different. The streets of Zaun had the ever-present haze of smog seem softer, its grim edge dulled by the warm hum of neon lights. The streets bustled with life, as they always did, but the night gave the chaos a certain charm. The glow of green and pink signs reflected off damp cobblestones, while the occasional flicker of a malfunctioning lamp sent ripples of color through shallow puddles.

You walked side by side with Ekko, your steps slow and aimless, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. You didn’t, of course. With how Zaun always had a way of reminding you that the clock never stopped ticking. But right now, under the swirl of lights and the faint hiss of steam vents, it felt like time had paused just for the two of you.

Ekko’s hand brushed against yours every so often, and though he wasn’t one to initiate touch easily, you could tell he didn’t mind the closeness. He always had this way of being effortlessly cool, his swagger and wit making it seem like nothing fazed him. But you knew him better than most. You saw the weight he carried, the pressure of being a leader, a fighter, and a kid all at once. And tonight, you were determined to remind him what it felt like to just…be.

“Ever think Zaun’s kinda pretty at night?” you mused, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ekko glanced at you, one eyebrow raised, before looking around. “Pretty? Dunno if I’d call it that. More like…gritty with a side of a green glow.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the one waxing poetic about this place,” he shot back, his grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, maybe I’m seeing it through rose-colored glasses. Or maybe I just like walking around with you.”

That earned a chuckle from him, the sound low and warm. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned closer to you. “Well, when you put it that way…” The two of you wandered through winding alleys and across rickety bridges, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil. Every so often, Ekko would point out a shortcut he’d used for one of his time-bending escapades or share a story about an adventure with the Firelights.

But then he led you down a narrow path you hadn’t noticed before, his fingers brushing yours briefly to guide you. At the end of the path, you stepped into a beautiful hidden oasis. A rooftop garden tucked away from Zaun’s usual grit and grime. The first thing you noticed was the lights. Strings of mismatched lanterns crisscrossed the space, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. Tiny fairy lights were woven through the vines that climbed up makeshift trellises, their warm flicker like little stars in the night. The plants themselves were a mix of scrappy greenery and surprisingly vibrant flowers, their colors popping against the muted tones of the city below.

“Woah…” you breathed, turning to him with wide eyes.

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the faint blush on his cheeks gave him away. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a spot I’ve been working on.”

“Are you kidding? It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with awe.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting away from yours. “Figured it’d be nice to have a place to get away, y’know? Somewhere quiet.”

You stepped forward, taking it all in. A small wooden bench sat in the center of the garden, its surface worn but sturdy. Around it, the plants swayed gently in the cool breeze, their leaves catching the light just enough to shimmer.

“Come on,” Ekko said, his hand lightly brushing the small of your back as he guided you to the bench. “I didn’t bring you here just to stand around.”

You sat down, the wood creaking softly under your weight. Ekko settled beside you, close enough that his knee pressed against yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the lights and the distant sounds of Zaun filling the space. It was a working pattern. There was always a comfortable silence between the two of you.

“How long have you been working on this?” you asked softly.

“Couple months,” he said, leaning back with his arms stretched across the bench. “Takes a while to get plants to grow in a place like this. But I dunno…it feels good to build something, y’know? Instead of just tearing things down.”

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the softness in his voice. Ekko didn’t let people see this side of him often though. I mean this was the boy who dreamed of a better Zaun, the one who carried the weight of his community on his shoulders.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. “Just like you.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and a little shy. “You’re laying it on thick tonight, huh?”

“Just telling the truth,” you said, closing your eyes as his warmth seeped into you.

The two of you sat like that for a while, wrapped up in the stillness of the garden. Ekko’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that felt natural, like you were always meant to fit together.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For, y’know…being here.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. “Of course,” you said softly while winking. “You’re worth it, Ekko.”

His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, the golden light casting shadows across his face. Then he smiled. It was real, genuine smile that made your chest feel light and full all at once.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. His arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as you leaned into him.

“This is nice,” you murmured, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little muffled. “It is.”

There it was again, the comfortable silence. The garden was quiet, bathed in the golden light of the mismatched lanterns. You rested your head on Ekko’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against you. His fingers were still intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing small, absentminded circles against your knuckles.

It was peaceful, almost too perfect for Zaun, where tranquility was a rare luxury. The hum of distant machinery and the faint chatter of the streets below were a backdrop to your own private world. You thought this was it, that the night couldn’t get any better. But Ekko had other plans.

Suddenly, he shifted away from you, his weight leaving the bench as he stood. His warmth leaving your body. You blinked up at him, confused as he turned to face you, his signature grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He extended a hand toward you, palm up, the glow of the garden lights reflecting in his dark eyes.

“Dance with me,” he said, his voice soft but brimming with an irresistible playfulness.

You tilted your head, a laugh escaping you. “Dance? Here?”

“Why not?” He wiggled his fingers, urging you to take his hand.

You hesitated, glancing around. “Ekko, there’s no music.”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

Reaching into his pocket, Ekko pulled out a small, beaten up speaker, a relic salvaged from some forgotten corner of Zaun. He fiddled with it for a moment before a warm melody crackled to life, filling the air with a gentle rhythm.

You stared at him in disbelief, your lips parting in surprise. “You planned this?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing miserably as a proud smile broke through. “Maybe.”

Shaking your head with a soft laugh, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his palm grounding you. “Alright, Clockstopper,” you teased. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Ekko pulled you to your feet, guiding you to the center of the garden. The music swelled around you, soft and sweet, a contrast to the chaos of Zaun. His other hand found its place on your waist, and he held you close, his movements easy and unhurried. At first, you tried to match his rhythm, your steps tentative as you followed his lead. But it wasn’t long before your foot accidentally landed on his.

“Oh, sorry!” you gasped, pulling back slightly.

Ekko winced dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “You’re killing me here,” he said, his voice laced with mock pain.

You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“Baby?” He laughed, spinning you unexpectedly. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, the sound of your shared laughter echoing in the garden.

The two of you continued like that, swaying and spinning under the lanterns. Every so often, you’d step on his foot again, and he’d exaggerate his reaction, making you laugh until your cheeks hurt. But then, as the song shifted to a slower melody, Ekko’s movements became gentler, more deliberate. He pulled you closer, your bodies impossibly near. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the faint scent of zauns atmosphere lingering on him. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The golden light reflected in his eyes, making them shimmer like they held their own constellation. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something raw and real that made your heart stutter.

“Ekko…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.

He didn’t say anything, just leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft and sweet, filled with everything words couldn’t express. Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around your waist. The world seemed to tilt, the glow of the lanterns and the soft hum of the music swirling around you in a haze of light and sound.

Time felt irrelevant—ironic, considering who you were with. All that mattered was the way he held you, the way his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure.

Your heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the lights around you. Smiling, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too,” you said, the words as natural as breathing.

Ekko grinned, his hands tightening around your waist as he pressed a series of quick, playful kisses to your face—your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. Each kiss was accompanied by a soft giggle from you, his affection spilling over in a way that was so uniquely him.

“Ekko, stop,” you laughed, trying to pull away as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Never,” he said, his voice full of mock defiance as he caught your lips in another kiss.

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. The music played on, the lights flickered, and Zaun’s ever-present hum seemed softer, almost distant. As the night stretched on, you found yourselves back on the bench, your head resting on Ekko’s shoulder as he absentmindedly played with your fingers. The garden felt like a dream, a little slice of peace carved out of the chaos. And in that moment, with Ekko by your side and the glow of the lanterns above you, everything felt right. Almost perfect.

banners. @anitalenia

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights

[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, but I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[chosok-amo]

FILM 01. OOPS! WRONG ROOM!

☆ sum. because of yuuji’s stupid prank, you decided to give him the taste of his own medicine and prank him in the middle of the night. but, because, sometimes, in the middle of the night you lack common sense, you accidentally climb the wrong room and end up in his older brother’s room.

warning. non-sorcerer au, fluff, harsh-words (curse, etc), crack, sukuna accidentally slap you :').

☆ , DECEMBER, WHEN WINTER FINALLY COMES

11 PM.

you stand in front of the two-story house, a determined look on your face and a backpack slung over your shoulder, weighing heavily with the tools of revenge you brought along. the night has fully settled, with the sky draped in inky darkness, only broken by the faint glow of the moon. a cool breeze brushes against your face, making you pull your jacket tighter around yourself as the branches of nearby trees sway and scrape against one another, filling the quiet night with an eerie creaking sound. in the distance, the faint chirping of crickets echoes through the silence, adding to the sense of stillness.

you glance at your reflection in the darkened window of a parked car, catching sight of your hair in the moonlight—a sickly shade of blue that catches your eye and makes you clench your fists. “yuuji itadori,” you mutter under your breath, teeth clenched. the anger flares up in your chest again, hot and insistent. it was all his fault. that idiot and his stupid pranks. you’d thought you could trust him, that he was just being nice when he suggested a “fun” hair treatment. but now, thanks to him, your hair looked like a mess, a ridiculous blue that was nothing like the color you’d agreed on.

tonight was the night for revenge.

you sling the backpack higher on your shoulder, its contents shifting slightly, and mutter to yourself, “say goodbye to your precious hair, you fucking bastard.” you know yuuji’s going to regret the day he ever thought of pulling a prank on you. your feet carry you to the side of the house, stepping lightly over the grass as you survey the windows. in all your visits here, you realize you never actually paid attention to where yuuji’s room is. that oversight might slow you down, but it won’t stop you. the anger bubbling in your chest is more than enough to keep you focused.

determined, you scan the side of the house, eyeing each window in turn. your gaze falls on a room with a tiny balcony, faint light seeping through the curtains. you pause, hearing muffled laughter. a grin spreads across your face—of course, that has to be his room. the laughter sounds like yuuji’s, and who else would be awake and laughing at this hour? you take a deep breath, suppressing a triumphant chuckle of your own.

carefully, you approach the thick, sturdy tree beside the house. its branches stretch outward like bony fingers, offering you a path up toward that balcony. your fingers brush against the rough bark as you grab hold of the lowest branch and hoist yourself up. the tree is old, its bark rough and uneven, making it easy to grip, but the branches are high enough that you have to stretch and carefully pull yourself from one to the next. the creak of wood under your weight fills the air, and for a brief moment, you freeze, afraid that you’ve made too much noise. but the house remains silent aside from the faint sound of yuuji’s laughter filtering through his window.

one branch at a time, you climb higher, your heart pounding harder with each step. the wind catches your hair, making the blue strands sway in the breeze, reminding you exactly why you’re here. the closer you get to that balcony, the more your grin widens. this is it. you’re almost there.

as you near the last branch, excitement pulses through you, but it’s quickly overshadowed by a rush of fear as your foot slips on a patch of moss. in a split second, you’re thrown off balance, and your heart skips a beat. you gasp, feeling yourself sway, and instinctively, you blurt out, “oh shit!”

your hands fly to the trunk, gripping it tightly as you hug the rough bark, holding on for dear life. your heart hammers in your chest, pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, the reality of what almost just happened sinking in. the cold bark scratches against your cheek, but you don’t dare move, frozen in place, caught between relief and lingering fear.

after a few seconds, you force yourself to loosen your grip slightly, taking a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart. glancing up, you see the branch you were aiming for, just a bit higher. it’s within reach, but now, your legs feel a little shaky. the thought of slipping again makes you hesitate, but your anger and determination to get back at yuuji push you forward.

with renewed caution, you carefully adjust your footing, triple-checking each step, and finally manage to reach that last branch. once you’re stable, you let out a sigh of relief, silently thanking whatever luck you have left. hugging the trunk one last time for reassurance, you shift your focus back to your mission—yuuji’s room is just within reach.

at least that’s what you thought.

finally, you reach a branch that stretches close to the balcony. it’s a little risky, a bit of a jump, but you’ve come this far. you steady yourself, crouching on the branch as you judge the distance. taking a deep breath, you lean forward and make the jump, landing on the narrow balcony with a soft thud. you quickly grab hold of the railing to steady yourself, glancing at the window to make sure your entrance hasn’t been noticed.

through the gap in the curtains, you can just make out yuuji lying on his bed with his back on you, his phone in hand, laughing at something on the screen. completely oblivious. perfect.

you reach into your backpack, pulling out the can of temporary neon green hair dye. it’s obnoxious, bright enough to be seen from space, and will make yuuji’s hair look ridiculous. it won’t be permanent, but he’s going to have a hell of a time trying to wash it out. satisfied with your plan, you pop open the lid, taking a quick glance through the window to make sure he’s still distracted.

you carefully, silently ease the window open just enough to slip inside. his laughter continues, completely oblivious to the danger creeping up beside him. your footsteps are soft as you step onto the carpeted floor, your eyes locked on yuuji as he scrolls through his phone, still chuckling to himself. you can’t help but roll your eyes—of course he’d be laughing when he’s about to get pranked himself. irony at its finest.

but. . .

your heart stops as the person on the bed snaps around, and before you can even react, a startled scream tears from his lips. his hand flies out in reflex, catching you square across the cheek and sending you sprawling back onto the carpet with a sharp, stunned yelp. pain radiates from your cheek, your vision blurring slightly as you clutch the spot where he struck you.

“oh, fuck!” you groan, the sting spreading across your face. you struggle to sit up, blinking away the dizziness. the reality of the situation hits you hard as you finally look up and realize… this isn’t yuuji.

no, it’s his older brother, sukuna.

he sits on the bed before standing up in quick motion, his eyes narrowing as they bore into you, a mixture of irritation and dark amusement flickering in his gaze. his face is almost identical to yuuji’s, but the atmosphere is entirely different—cold, intimidating, and absolutely confused.

sukuna’s eyes rake over you, taking in your presence in his room. it quickly changes from surprise to annoyance. “what the hell are you doing here?” he snaps, tossing his phone aside. he crosses his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing. “and how did you even get in here?”

you can feel the tension in the room growing palpable. he’s clearly not happy about your unexpected entrance, and your cheek is still throbbing from where he hit you. you swallow hard, struggling to find your voice amidst the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

sukuna’s eyes are fixed on you, his brows furrowing as he takes in the sight of you, sprawled on the carpet. his irritation is apparent, but there’s also an underlying hint of curiosity, like he’s trying to figure out what to make of this unexpected intrusion. “care to explain what you’re doing in here, sneaking around like a damn rodent?” sukuna growls, his voice sharp and impatient. “yuuji didn’t invite you here tonight, did he?”

sukuna stands there, hands planted firmly on his hips now, sharp eyes taking in every detail of your appearance. he recognizes you vaguely; he’s seen you hanging around his house on occasion, always with yuuji and his usual group of idiotic friends. though he’s never bothered to learn your name or really acknowledge your presence, your face has become familiar enough to him that he can place you instantly. he watches you carefully, as though trying to piece together why you would take such a risk to sneak into his room, of all places, with such an audacious plan.

your head shakes in small, hurried movements, your hand still pressed against your cheek, trying to muffle the sting from his slap. “n-no… yuuji didn’t invite me,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tumbling out awkwardly as you bite your lip to keep from wincing aloud. your fingers press gently against the sore spot, feeling the heat rising under your skin where his hand had connected.

“i thought you were him,” you admit, the explanation sounding weaker with each passing second. sukuna’s gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes flicking from your cheek to the blood at the corner of your lip. he just stands there, one hand on his hip while the other falls flat on his side, eyes narrowed, sizing you up like he’s assessing a stray cat that’s somehow wandered into his territory.

sukuna’s eyes narrow, watching every move you make, his irritation not softening in the slightest. he moves to sit on the edge of his bed, crossing his arms over his chest once again, looking down at you with a mixture of annoyance and mild interest. his gaze flickers from your swollen cheek to the faint trace of blood on the corner of your lip.

“you thought i was yuuji?” he repeats, voice laced with disbelief, as if the very idea of being mistaken for his younger brother is an insult in itself. “how do you even confuse the two of us?” his tone drips with condescension, his gaze searing into you as you struggle to sit up, holding your cheek to ease the throbbing pain.

the adrenaline is still making your head spin, and your cheek stings with every slight movement. “i don’t know, i…i just came to prank him,” you mumble, voice barely above a whisper as you bite your lip, trying not to whimper at the soreness radiating from where he slapped you. “i thought you were him.”

sukuna scoffs, clearly unimpressed with your explanation. he stands up, towering over you, placing his hands on his hips once again as he gives you a once-over. “right. and now you look like a kicked puppy,” he mutters, almost like he’s annoyed that he feels the slightest bit of guilt over the reflexive slap. he rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, as if your injury is an inconvenience to him.

“you’re bleeding, you know,” he says with a grimace, nodding toward your lip. “might want to do something about that.”

your hand flies up to your mouth, fingers brushing over the blood at the edge of your lip. you wince as the pain flares up, and sukuna watches with an unreadable expression as you dab at the spot, failing to hide the pained hiss that escapes your lips.

“for someone sneaky enough to climb a damn tree and break in, you’re pretty fragile,” he comments dryly, his eyes still fixed on you as if trying to make sense of the situation before fixed to the spray hair dye beside you on the floor for a second. “what the hell were you planning to do, anyway? spray yuuji’s hair while he’s sleeping and hope he’d just laugh it off?”

you nod, feeling a little foolish now under his intense gaze, the can of hair dye still lying on the carpet where you dropped it. “it was just supposed to be harmless fun,” you mumble, glancing down, feeling a bit exposed under his scrutiny.

sukuna’s lips twitch into a smirk at your explanation, his annoyance softening into amusement, though it’s laced with a hint of disbelief. “harmless fun?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “so, you thought it would be funny to sneak into our house and mess with my brother while he’s sleeping?”

his tone is sharp, the words falling from his lips with an edge that stings more than the slap, his eyes never leaving you as you sit there, holding your cheek. it’s obvious he’s not buying your excuse, but he’s too damn entertained to show it.

you let out a long sigh, resigning yourself to the ridiculousness of the situation. shifting to sit cross-legged on the carpet, you look up at him, feeling a spark of defiance flaring back up. “did you see my hair?” you ask, gesturing at the strands of blue cascading down your shoulders. “it’s all yuuji’s fault.”

sukuna’s brow arches, his smirk widening as he watches you, clearly intrigued but still not entirely convinced. “is that so?” he drawls, folding his arms as he leans slightly against the bedpost, his gaze never leaving you. “and what exactly did he do that made you think you could just break in here?”

you roll your eyes, the memory of yuuji’s previous prank making you scowl slightly. “oh, he thought it’d be hilarious to dye my hair neon blue while pretending to help me dye my hair,” you explain, crossing your arms in annoyance. “i was just trying to get him back. didn’t expect the wrong itadori to be here.”

sukuna lets out a scoff, a sound that might be a stifled laugh. “so you wanted revenge, huh?” he says, his smirk growing wider. “and you thought breaking into our house and sneaking into my room was the way to do it?”

he steps closer to you, his eyes scanning over your figure, that smirk still dancing on his lips. “you’ve got guts, i’ll give you that,” he mutters, his voice a mix of annoyance and grudging respect. “but damn, couldn’t you have chosen a less idiotic plan?”

as sukuna takes a step closer, the sudden shift in his expression sends a jolt through you. instinctively, you scoot back, clutching at the fabric of your clothes as if that’ll somehow guard you from the piercing intensity in his gaze. the smirk on his lips is still there, but there’s something in his eyes—something unreadable—that makes your heart skip a beat.

“w-what are you doing?” you stammer, trying to sound firm, though your voice betrays you with a slight tremor. you don’t break eye contact, refusing to let him see any weakness, but your pulse is racing.

sukuna chuckles, low and dark, as he watches you. “relax,” he drawls, tilting his head with that infuriating smirk of his. “if i wanted to kick you out, i would’ve done it already.” he pauses, gaze flicking over you once more, as if he’s sizing you up. “just curious, that’s all. you break into my house in the dead of night, sneaking around like a cat burglar, and then you get all jumpy when i walk up to you? if anything, i should be the one asking what you’re doing.”

you grit your teeth, trying to steady your breathing. “i… i told you, it was just a prank for yuuji. i didn’t expect you to be here.” you try to keep your voice steady, hoping the indignation overshadows the nervousness bubbling under the surface. “and can you blame me for being cautious? you slapped me as soon as you saw me!”

his gaze softens, just for a moment, like he’s remembering the slap—and the faint tinge of guilt flashes across his expression before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. he gives a half-shrug, still smirking. “maybe i overreacted,” he admits. “but you barged into my room.”

sukuna lets out another scoff, this time a little softer, almost amused by your obvious discomfort. he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you even further, and again, you involuntarily shrink back. the smirk on his lips grows wider, as if he’s enjoying how unnerved you are, despite your best efforts to hide it.

“relax,” he repeats, his voice a low, taunting rumble. “i won’t bite.”

his eyes never leave yours, studying your every reaction keenly, like he’s trying to catch every flicker of emotion that crosses your face. “you’re trembling,” he comments, a hint of mockery in his voice. “why, are you afraid of me?”

a pause as he crotch down, leaving just a few inches between you. his hand reaches out, moving towards your face, and you reflexively flinch at the unexpected touch. sukuna pauses, his fingers pausing just a breath away from your skin, before brushing over your swollen cheek. “does it hurt?” he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle, almost concerned.

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you muster up a dry, sarcastic tone. “what do you think?” you snap, meeting his gaze without flinching this time, though your cheek still throbs from the sting. his fingers linger on your cheek for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if contemplating something. the concern in his voice had surprised you, but now you’re more annoyed than anything, wondering if he’s just toying with you for his own amusement.

sukuna’s lips twitch into a faint smirk at your response. “feisty, aren’t you?” he murmurs, clearly amused by your defiance. “guess you’re not as fragile as you look.” you huff, trying to ignore the way his hand feels against your skin, warm and oddly gentle. “did you expect me to just sit here and whimper?” you fire back, arching an eyebrow at him. “maybe you should work on your welcoming skills.”

he chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver up your spine. “i don’t usually have uninvited guests,” he replies, his smirk widening. “especially not ones with the guts to talk back.” the tension between you both lingers, charged and heavy, as his hand falls away, leaving you to realize how close he is, still crouched in front of you.

sukuna reaches into the drawer by his bed, pulling out a small box and setting it on the carpet in front of you. you watch as he opens it, revealing a surprisingly well-stocked first-aid kit—cotton swabs, antiseptic wipes, bandages, and more.

“what… are you doing?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. the idea of sukuna, the one who slapped you moments ago, now tending to your wound feels too surreal. sukuna doesn’t answer immediately, his eyes focused as he pulls out a cotton swab and some antiseptic from the small box. he glances up at you briefly, his gaze unreadable, before he dips the cotton in the antiseptic. “hold still,” he says, his voice quieter, almost like he’s trying not to scare you off.

you feel your brows knit together, watching him suspiciously. “what are you doing?” you ask for the second time, shifting slightly as he leans in closer, his intense gaze making it hard to look away.

“what does it look like?” he says, a slight edge of irritation coloring his tone, though he doesn’t break eye contact. “i’m cleaning up the mess i made.” he reaches toward your cheek, you instinctively tense up, but his touch is unexpectedly gentle. the antiseptic stings slightly as he dabs it onto your skin, and you can’t help but wince. he moves the cotton swab across your cheek, waiting a beat to make sure you won’t pull away.

“don’t be a baby,” he mutters, though there’s a faint trace of amusement in his tone. you roll your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “maybe if someone didn’t slap me…” you mumble, unable to resist throwing some sarcasm back his way.

sukuna lets out a snort, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “maybe if someone didn’t sneak into my room in the middle of the night,” he retorts, the edge to his voice lessening slightly as he continues tending to your wound. “can’t blame me for being startled, now, can you?”

his eyes are fixed on your face, his expression serious and focused as he works, and you struggle to keep yourself from reacting to his touch. despite his previous aggression, his movements are oddly careful, almost as if he was worried about causing you more pain. “i’m taking responsibility, aren’t i?” he retorts, but his voice is noticeably softer than before.

he continues to clean up the wound on your cheek, his gaze never leaving your face. his touch, despite the initial start, is careful and precise. there’s something almost tender about his actions, but his expression remains composed, revealing nothing more than mild annoyance. “you’re surprisingly docile when you’re quiet,” he notes, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.

sukuna’s eyes flicker up to meet your gaze, the hint of a knowing smile on his lips as he continues to gently apply the antiseptic, his touch both tender and precise.

his words take you by surprise, the uncharacteristic compliment causing your cheeks to flush slightly. you open your mouth to shoot back a retort, but for some reason, the words don’t come as easily as they did before. “i… just don’t want to give you another reason to slap me,” you manage to stammer out, trying to sound defiant but instead finding yourself a little flustered.

sukuna lets out a chuckle, his eyes narrowing amusedly as he sees your flustered reaction. “you’re not as tough as you act,” he says, a hint of mockery in his tone. “i’ve seen scared rabbits with more backbone than you.”

he stops applying the antiseptic and sets it aside, his hand moving to grab a small bandage from the first-aid kit. his gaze drops back to your cheek, his expression strangely serious as he carefully applies the bandage. “you lucked out that i was in a good mood,” he adds, his voice quieter.

you roll your eyes, letting out an exaggerated scoff as sukuna’s words sink in. “oh, i feel so honored,” you reply sarcastically, the dry bite in your tone impossible to miss. you lift a hand to feel the freshly placed bandage on your cheek, not sure if you’re more irritated by the sting or by the smug expression he’s wearing.

with a glare, you turn to really look at him, noting for the first time just how much he resembles yuuji—the same face shape, the same strong build. but the similarities end there. where yuuji’s face is open and kind, sukuna’s is sharp, his features only intensified by the black tattoos and those unsettling deep crimson eyes that seem to pierce right through you.

your gaze holds his, and you let out a low murmur, almost daring, “so... what would you do if you weren’t in a good mood, then? eat me?” you quirk an eyebrow, attempting to match his intensity, though there’s a part of you that’s not entirely sure if you’re joking.

sukuna’s lips twitch at your sarcastic response, his smirk widening as he watches your reaction. his eyes follow your hand, watching you touch the bandage. he notices the hint of irritation in your expression, but he seems to revel in it, his gaze sharpening as you meet his eyes.

at your question, his smirk turns into a wolfish grin, his eyes gleaming with an almost feral glimmer.

“maybe,” he replies, his voice dropping to a purr-like grunt, “if you keep testing my temper, who knows what i might do.” he tilts his head slightly, studying you with a mix of irritation and mild amusement.

sukuna’s smirk widens and his eyes roam over you with that bold, shameless look, you can feel your cheeks heating up against your will. his tone is low and teasing, each word laced with a dangerous, sultry undertone that makes your stomach flip.

you feel your cheeks flare up, and you can’t hide the way your body reacts to sukuna’s bold comment and the way his gaze trails over you with that dangerous glint. that smirk of his only gets wider, more amused, as he takes in your flustered expression making your stomach crunches. it’s like he’s toying with you, fully enjoying the effect he’s having.

when he drops his voice and mutters that sultry, “i’ll make sure you feel good, though,” it sends a shiver through you, one that you quickly shake off. ignoring the warmth rising to your face, you roll your eyes and lift your foot, giving him a swift kick to the shoulder. it’s not hard, but it’s enough to send him sprawling back onto the carpet. “ugh, fuck off, you pervert,” you huff, crossing your arms as you glare down at him.

sukuna’s eyes widen slightly at your unexpected kick, stunned for a moment before he lets out a laugh, his body thudding against the carpet. he lands flat on his back, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face. he doesn’t sit up right away, just lies there, the smirk on his lips growing wider as he looks up at you, obviously finding your reaction very entertaining.

“pervert, am i?” he quips, raising an eyebrow as he runs a hand through his hair. “big talk from the one sneaking into my room at night, hm?” the smirk still on his lips as he gazes up at you, his eyes narrowing in a way that’s both infuriating and captivating.

sukuna pushes himself up to leans on his two elbows, looking up at you with that infuriating smirk still firmly in place. “seems i touched a nerve,” he purrs, his voice smooth and low. “all i did was say i’d make you feel good. you can’t honestly say that was perverted.” he pauses for a moment, his gaze flickering up and down your body in a way that feels almost like a caress. “i wonder,” he continues, his voice dropping to a murmur, “what other buttons i could push to get those cute little reactions out of you.”

your eyes widen as his words sink in, a mix of embarrassment and irritation flaring up inside you. with a gasp, you instinctively cross your arms over your body, as if shielding yourself from the weight of his gaze. “are you serious?” you sputter, heat creeping up your cheeks.

you quickly gather yourself, and before he has a chance to react, you reach out and give his shoulder a solid shove, enough to make him fall back onto the carpet with a thud. “you are such a pervert,” you snap, your voice laced with annoyance as you glare down at him.

sukuna lets out another laugh, unbothered by your shove. he lands back on the carpet, his body sprawled out once more. he doesn’t make any move to get up again, just lies there with that irritatingly smug expression on his face.

“you’re so sensitive,” he teases, his tone mocking. “i haven’t even done anything, and you’re already blushing. makes me think you secretly like it when i talk dirty.” he props himself up on his elbow, tilting his head with a smirk. “or maybe it’s just my charming presence.”

your eyes narrow at him, cheeks burning as you bite back the urge to say something that might fuel his ego even more. “shut up,” you snap, your voice laced with irritation as you glare down at him. sukuna’s smirk fades slightly as he looks at you, a curious glint replacing the usual cockiness in his eyes. he studies you for a moment, almost as if he’s seeing you in a new light. then, with a slight tilt of his head, he sits up, resting his elbows on his knees.

“what’s your name?” he asks, his voice a bit softer, though there’s still that edge of intrigue. you blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor. it’s rare to see him ask something so straightforward without a teasing or mocking tone. for a second, it feels almost... genuine, like he actually wants to know.

“why?” you retort, trying to keep the edge in your voice despite the way his gaze makes your heart race.

he chuckles, leaning back slightly. “can’t a guy be curious?” he shrugs, his eyes not leaving yours. “i see you hanging around here often enough. figure i might as well know what to call the bold little intruder.”

there’s a playful glint in his eyes, but underneath it, there’s something that feels almost… sincere. you look at him with a mix of suspicion and surprise, narrowing your eyes as you try to gauge his intentions. why was he suddenly so curious? sukuna’s never exactly struck you as the type to care about formalities, much less asking someone’s name without some ulterior motive. but, still, under that sharp gaze of his, you feel a small sense of obligation to answer.

“…it’s y/n,” you mumble, the words slipping out almost involuntarily as you avert your gaze, feeling oddly self-conscious under his stare.

at the sound of your name, sukuna’s smirk softens into a slight smile. “y/n,” he repeats, testing the sound of it on his tongue. the way he says it makes your stomach flutter, like the smooth sound of a purr. the syllables rolling off his tongue like a low, appreciative rumble. there’s something about the way he says your name that sends a small shiver down your spine.

he eyes you for a moment longer, his gaze unreadable as he studies your face. his expression is surprisingly soft, the usual sharp edge of mockery missing from his eyes, replaced by a subtle warmth. “y/n,” he murmurs again, almost to himself. then, he grins. “a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

the compliment takes you off guard, your cheeks feeling warm under his gaze. you open your mouth to retort, to brush off his comment with some snarky response, but the words get stuck in your throat. sukuna clearly notices your reaction, his smirk widening into a cocky grin. “mmm, cat got your tongue?” he teases, his voice low and silken. “can’t handle a little praise?”

you feel your heart race as sukuna’s gaze lingers on you, his words lingering in the air like a heavy, unexpected compliment. it catches you off guard, and for a moment, you're left speechless, your mind struggling to come up with a response. you try to brush it off, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays the effect his words had on you.

“shut up,” you manage to stutter, but the words come out far softer than you intended. flustered, you quickly grab the nearest pillow and hurl it toward him with surprising force. it smacks him in the face, but you’re already on your feet, desperate to put some space between you and him.

“god, you’re such a pain,” you mutter, though it’s barely audible as you try to walk away, still feeling the sting of his compliment on your skin. sukuna lets out a low, amused chuckle as the pillow hits him. he sits up properly, grabbing the pillow from his face and holding it in his lap. his eyes follow you as you hurry to put some distance between you, a small smirk playing on his lips.

as you mutter your frustration under your breath, sukuna watches you with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. your flustered reaction to his compliment, the way you tried to flee, only piqued his interest further. “aww, where are you going?” he calls out teasingly. “come back here, don’t be shy.”

you pause mid-step, glancing back at him with a raised eyebrow, trying to ignore the way his amused tone makes your pulse quicken. crossing your arms, you tilt your head and give him a skeptical look, masking your own lingering embarrassment with a cool expression. “are you enjoying my company now?” you ask, your voice laced with dry sarcasm. “i thought you were annoyed that i showed up unannounced.”

sukuna grins at your reply, leaning back against the side of the bed, his demeanor relaxed and at ease. he holds the pillow up in one hand, absently tracing the edge with his fingers as his gaze locks on you.

“can’t it be both?” he responds, his tone nonchalant. “i’m annoyed at your lack of respect for personal space, but i gotta admit, you’re not entirely unpleasant to look at. or be around, maybe,” he pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering over your figure. “and it was kind of funny watching you squirm just now.”

you let a slow smile spread across your face, folding your arms as you tilt your head, watching him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “oh? should i stay a bit longer then?” you say, your tone light and teasing, each word a subtle challenge.

sukuna lets out an exaggerated groan, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance as he pushes himself up to stand. he shakes his head, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. “don’t push your luck,” he mutters, but there’s a flicker of something almost playful in his voice that undercuts the warning.

you let out a soft chuckle, uncrossing your arms and let it fall down to your side “oh, come on,” you say, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “i thought i was at least ‘not entirely unpleasant’ to be around. maybe you’re warming up to me.“

sukuna’s eyes narrow ever so slightly as you respond with a smirk of your own, a flicker of amused irritation crossing his face. he lets out a low scoff, not quite able to hide the hint of amusement in his voice.

“don’t get cocky,” he retorts, the warning tone in his voice contradicted by the playful glint in his eyes. “just because i called you pretty doesn’t mean i don’t find you irritating.” he takes a step toward you, his gaze never leaving yours as he crosses his arms across his chest. “and i never said i was warming up to...” he trails off, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a moment before shifting back up, meeting your eyes with an intense look. “i was just stating a fact,” he continues, his voice lowering to an almost whisper. “you’re not bad to look at, that’s all.”

you roll your eyes at him, letting out a small scoff. “asshole,” you mutter, crossing your arms defiantly. but before you can get too comfortable, you feel sukuna’s hands on your back, firm and insistent, as he starts to nudge you towards the window you came through.

a pout forms on your lips as you drag your feet, resisting slightly. “come on,” you whine, looking up at him with a mock hurt expression, knowing it’ll only irritate him more. “i still want to stay. you’re such great company, after all,” you add with a smirk, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

he lets out an exasperated sigh, his grip on your back firm but not rough as he tries to shove you out. “don’t push it,” he growls, his patience clearly thinning. you can see the twitch in his jaw, and the way his eyes narrow, as if he’s seconds away from throwing you out the window himself.

but you just laugh, twisting around to look up at him with a mischievous grin. “why are you so eager to get rid of me, huh?” you tease, leaning back slightly to stall his efforts. “is it, maybe because you just can’t handle my charm?”

sukuna’s eyes narrow at your relentless stubbornness, his grip on your back becoming even more firm as he tries to guide you toward the window. but you resist, planting your feet like a stubborn mule, and his irritation only grows. as you whine and pout at him, throwing sarcastic jabs at his expense, sukuna grumbles, his patience stretching thinner with every word you speak. he leans in, his face close to yours, his eyes locking onto your defiant gaze.

“your charm?” he mutters, his voice low and laced with annoyance. “more like your irritating persistence.” he gives you another forceful shove, pushing you closer to the window. “just go,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of finality. “before i change my mind and shove you out myself.”

you cling to the railing, balancing precariously on one leg as you tilt your head up at him, a playful pout on your lips. even with half your body hanging out the window, you’re determined to get one last rise out of him. batting your eyelashes dramatically, you lean in, giving him an exaggerated, innocent look. “are you sure you won’t miss me?” you ask in a sing-song tone, your eyes glinting with mischief. you can see his jaw tense, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he glares at you.

sukuna’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching at your relentless stubbornness and irritating persistence. he's tempted to throw you out the window right then and there, but your dramatic pose and exaggerated puppy dog eyes give him pause. “oh, please,” he mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. “you’re a headache, a nuisance. what would i miss about you?”

he’s clearly trying to hold back, to keep his emotions in check, but your audacity and lack of fear continue to rile him up. his eyes dart to the window, considering whether it would be better to simply push you out and be done with it, but there’s something about the cheeky sparkle in your eyes that makes him hesitate.

you let out an exaggerated sigh, clutching the railing as you give him your best pleading look. “come on, sukuna,” you whine, batting your eyelashes, “can’t i at least leave through the front door like a normal person?”

his expression darkens, an irritated smirk tugging at his lips as he leans in, his hand pressing firmly on your shoulder to keep you steady but clearly inching you closer to the edge. “you’re leaving the same way you came in,” he mutters, his voice low and laced with annoyance. you can’t help but grin, finding his exasperation oddly satisfying. “aww, don’t be like that,” you tease, “i thought maybe you’d warmed up to me by now.”

his jaw tightens, and he gives you another nudge, his patience clearly wearing thin. “i’m this close to tossing you out myself,” he growls, but there’s a flicker in his eyes, almost like he’s holding back a reluctant smile. with a little laugh, you swing one leg back over the windowsill, making a show of dragging out your departure. “fine, fine,” you say, raising your hands in mock surrender. “i’ll go. but i know you’ll be thinking of me after i’m gone.”

“out!” he barks, finally giving you a proper shove that sends you stumbling backward onto the balcony. as you regain your balance, you can’t resist flashing him one last smirk, blowing him a kiss just to rile him up one more time. his eye twitches, and he slams the window shut with a huff, leaving you on the balcony—but not before you catch the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.

sukuna stands by the closed window, his hands clenching into fists, his jaw taut with irritation. he glares through the glass, his eyes fixed on your smirking figure. the last bit of patience he had snaps as you blow him a kiss, his expression darkening further. he slams his hand against the window, the sound echoing through the room. “get lost, dammit,” he mutters to himself, his voice carrying a hint of frustration.

you roll your eyes at his dramatic display, taking your sweet time as you turn toward the branch you used to climb up. “seriously,” you mutter under your breath, half amused, half exasperated. “he’s such a bipolar jerk.”

with one last glance over your shoulder, you see him still standing there, fists clenched and glaring daggers through the glass, as if you’d somehow infiltrated his inner sanctum and messed with his world. it almost makes you laugh—you can practically feel the annoyance radiating off him even from here.

“goodnight to you too, sukuna,” you mumble sarcastically, stepping onto the branch. as you begin to make your way down, you hear a faint, frustrated huff from inside. with a small, victorious smirk, you descend, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having left him riled up and flustered in his own room.

☆! TAGLIST :

@byerno6 @curtins @creamflix @m00nyt0astforever @starmapz @aerareads @loveperfectionchaos @jinxiewritings @batmanslobster @vitoshi @monic19 @jayathelostdragon @ureuphoriasworld @cvr2mya @satorustorm

© template by readyoregg

[willowed-wisp]

stitches [simon ‘ghost’ riley]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader/you

Hopefully this doesn’t suck and makes sense for the most part. Thanks for anybody that reads this 🥰

WARNINGS: smut, descriptions of injury, body insecurity… a bit of plus size!reader

When you joined the Special Forces, you didn’t want to form attachments.

That was the only rule you held yourself to.

As a medic back at base, you thought it would be easy. Alas, fate had other plans in the form of Task Force 141.

Lead by Captain John Price- who had handpicked you for medical support- to stay back at whatever base looked like- whether it be a van or a safe house.

With that, you lived with the boys. John Price, Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley. You kept yourself to yourself at first, not confident among four SAS soldiers nor in yourself. Knowing of them only.

So you planned to stay huddled in the corner and quiet.

Then in the middle of the night, you came face to face with a black balaclava and a gruff voice, “Ya good?” You only remember the nightmares… more so flashbacks. They were relentless- creeping in the recesses of your mind, waiting for times when stress peaked. Unfortunately this entire ordeal was nerve-wracking.

You only noticed the warm hand on your shoulder, instinct led you to stare past the noir covering the majority of his face and into his eyes. Caring eyes.

He had no need to check if you were okay, he didn’t know you but, nevertheless, it was nice to see the lieutenant as something other than a looming figure.

The seriousness became too much to bear for you, “Do you sleep in that thing?” Using humour to take the edge off- well trying to.

“Soundly,” Earthy, rugged… British yourself, he sounded awfully English. That was when your eyes dawned on the clock- the time more specifically. 02:01.

“Do you sleep at all?” Another attempt but he didn’t laugh- your smile faded, maybe a tad intimated. He wasn’t exactly small.

He stood away, no longer crouching at your bedside. How tall was the guy? You tried to hide the wonder on your face, “Better than you… when I do get a kip…” Some pain in those words. “Better get some shut eye, Y/L/N… see ya at dawn.” You slept better knowing at least someone in 141 had your back.

After that you started integrating more with the lads. You learned that Johnny could clean his messes up exceptionally well, and that’s why he was called ‘Soap’. Price still thought the name was bullcrap but alas, not your problem.

You also noticed that Ghost never showed his face. Black face paint shrouding the skin showing around his dark eyes or his sunglasses. You preferred the face paint.

He had a habit of watching you from across the room chatting with Soap and Gaz- you blocked any possible avenues of relationships. Not that they’d be interested in you (your own thoughts). You didn’t find yourself attractive or good enough. A bit too much weight, you continued to think.

It was a good thing, you couldn’t get distracted.

That was until that day…

Supply checks… stock up on the sterilised needle and stitch thread. You barely had any use to 141, just a glorified nurse who had no business being given a code name.

“Stitches! It’s LT!” The brash Scotsman bolstered his comrade over to the gurney in the impromptu medical van. Blue eyes flashed over into yours, hulking the larger man to lay on his back.

Ghost wasn’t having any of it, attempting to sit up only for more blood to gush from his thigh. You rushed into action, “Soap, get us out of here,” said all too calmly for someone under such pressure. The man did as he was told and they were off. Meanwhile, you had pushed the lieutenant down on the bed. He grunted in pain each time he made a move, “For fuck’s sake, stay still so I can fucking see.” Blue gloves on, as he stopped wriggling, “Thank you.” You were still unimpressed but at least he listened. Unbeknownst to you under the mask he donned a pained smirk- unaware you could be so commandeering. Almost proud of you.

A grunt paused his pride, “Fuck…” Through gritted teeth. Your fingers working the tweezers with expert precision.

He went to sit up, your left hand pressed against his sturdy chest- pushing him down, “Want me to snag your femoral artery, Ghost?” In no time, a red-coated bullet laid in the metal tray and he sat there in his boxer shorts- watching you work and hitching a breath each time the needle breached skin.

They were the gentlest hands that had ever worked on him. “What happened?” Eyes boring into his as you cast off the stitch.

“Someone got the jump on me, should see ‘im,” you smiled at that, able to tell he was too. By his eyes.

The ones you dreamt of every night- except when the terrors returned. Johnny was too heavy of a sleeper to hear you, but Simon’s eyes were what you woke up to. In the flesh. He never asked what they were about, just comforted you.

When your deployment ended, and you returned home… you missed the guys. And his warm eyes whenever you returned to the land of the living.

Johnny contacted you. A pub crawl in Scotland, apparently Gaz, Price and even Simon were game.

Turns out you and Ghost didn’t live too far away. In ten minutes, a knock at your door and you met that deep gaze. “Johnny only just message ya, didn’t he?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m drivin’ us, don’t trust Gaz’s deathtrap…”

“Well… I just need to grab my stuff,” He started to walk away up the path to his 4x4. “You can come in and wait if you wanted?” Who was he to turn you down when you asked so nicely.

He helped you with your bags, “You sure ya gonna get through with that?”

“Haha,” dry humour, there was a reason you seemed to get on, “And if you want me to get more shit…”

You could see a glint in his eyes, “Nah, you’re alright, love…” That went straight down to between your thighs, the look on your face amused the man.

Surprisingly, the two of you weren’t awkward. Quiet here and there.

You assumed he wasn’t used to social interaction in general- especially wearing that balaclava, not good for conversation.

Simon was good to talk to, all waffled speech was redacted with him. Straight forward, sometimes sarcastic and wholly looking for banter- that’s what you preferred.

And there was no chance he would be interested in you. He has the aura of a guy who gets the attention of stunning women. Why would he want you? (You thought)

It was never going to happen.

By the end of that car ride, he learned about your messy string of exes and he had way too much Shania Twain on his playlist (and knew all of the words).

Johnny greeted you both with open arms, a tight hug for you, “You been ta’ing care of yourself, Stitches?”

“Better than you look, use more soap…” The laughs and hug came to an abrupt end- his stare directed over to Simon who loomed behind you. Was it just you, or did Johnny look scared?

“Let me show y’ where you’ll be sleepin’…”You went to grab your bags but Ghost already had it covered.

Poor you, you didn’t know what would await your stay at Johnny MacTavish’s.

The tip was a stretch, your head thrown back against the blanket pillow. Silent screams playing in your throat. He could feel the struggle and see the pleasure striking your visage. Murmurs of his name, “Si- Simon -!” Broken and whimpering. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t on the edge of losing his cool. You were pulsing around him so angelic.

“You’re takin’ me so well, lovie,” His hips took a full stroke, bracing your cervix. Thrumming and dripping wet. Another groan of his name.

The rhythm sank in, strangled moans trapped- your breathing wild against his ear. His thrusts swinging all the way back until they gutted you. Over and over. “Feels. So. GOOD -!” His hand covering your mouth, noting that the owner of the house was just next door and the other two at the end of the hall. Simon’s place supposed to be on the couch downstairs surrounded by Soap’s army memorabilia. Not right there, balls deep inside of you. Loving every second.

Cherishing every inch of you, kissing you in the moment to stay quiet so he could remain there for a while longer. So he may get some sleep, for the first time in a week.

Before you know it, his hand anchored around your ankles- spreading them to hook better. You’ve never moaned so loud in your life. Even echoing off the walls of the room. “Fuck it…” He was too far gone to care what the boys heard or thought. He had been thinking about that moment since he met you, looking so delectable with his cock hammering into you. Taking him so well.

You didn’t know if he would ever tire out, another rush of adrenaline and exhaustion swept over your limp body- numb to anything other than where his thighs slammed against your own and how raw you were going to in the morning.

Your legs fell, his grip focused at your jaw; leaning over- rubbing against sensitivity deep- and claiming your lips in a ravenous kiss that had your head spinning more than before.

Hands falling to your hips, thrusts sloppy as you tightened once again. “Where can I- ,” Drunk on how he tasted, your legs locked around his body.

“Inside,” Your hand found the base of his hair at Simon’s neck, holding on for dear life. Warmth spread downwards as your nails dug into his toned back and neck alike. A thick groan filled the air- enough to become addicted.

Neither of you panted, thriving in the silence. He savoured being hilted inside you, careful not to crush you beneath him. Hot breath spanning your collarbone. “Can’t tell ya how long I’ve wan’ed to do that…”

You felt so small against him, so yearned for. No face covering on his end, no boundaries. Laid bare to him and he wanted you anyway.

Fingers stroked at his thick hair, “Same, Si…”

Neither of you knew who fell victim to slumber first.

The morning came around, the boys had looked proud of themselves… too proud, too giddy. Especially Johnny.

“I think the gutters need check’ng, heard some weird noise last nigh’,” You’ve never threatened Johnny’s mohawk before but that day you grew close.

Price even had a glint of mischief in those clear eyes of his, “Vampires common in Scotland?” You didn’t check your neck, too caught up in the heat the previous night.

Gaz had a smirk on his face, “Not from what I know of, sir…”

Christ, you were never gonna hear the end of it.

______

masterlist

[sanriovin]

hear me out on this one y'all.

imagine yourself coming back home from a hard day at work, right? all overwhelmed, exhausted, annoyed at the world, and so on. as soon as you walk into your shared room though, you see a sight you weren't expecting in the least.

your husband, kento nanami, jerking himself off.

poor man, on his one day off, which were EXTREMELY rare for him, you, as luck had it, had to go to work :( and he was all needy and desperate for you, resorting to masturbating, which he never did often, even more so after the two of you became a couple.

his big, strong, calloused hand from the type of jobs he was involved in, wrapped nicely around his aching, pulsing cock, fisting himself, as pathetic, desperate groans and moans of your name and how good he was feeling left his lips, as his hips bucked up further into his hand from the pleasure he was feeling.

his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, head lolling back into the soft, welcoming pillows, dressed in a gentle linen pillowcase, undoubtedly not even realising that you had came home. the sight before you stirred something inside of you, making the exhaustion and annoyance from the day disappear completely, instead, replacing it with a feeling of your own neediness, and a sense of pride, seeing how your husband could fall apart. it gave you ideas. MANY ideas.

"Kento?" you spoke from your spot at the door, your eyes trailing down your husband's half-nude form; his trousers and boxers gone, his tie loosened, three tops buttons undone from the top.

hearing your voice breaking through the sounds of his ragged breathing, loud grunts of pleasure, and the occasional moan or two, his hand came to a stop, his eyes opened wide, looking at you, with shock, embarrassment, and shame. he couldn't even bring himself to hide his body, in a state of processing what had happened.

placing your bag down on the dresser near the door, you took one step, then another, then another, as you approached your shared bed, your eyes locked onto kento, not looking away for even a mere second, in fear that you would miss even the slightest reaction from your normally composed husband.

he swallowed harshly, audibly, slowly moving his hand away from where it was nicely wrapped around previously, placing it down on the linen clad duvet, averting eye contact with you, his cheeks flushed a soft pink, from either the embarrassment, or the physicality and feelings that masturbation brought, or both?

"I'm sorry, darling, I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon." he spoke a quiet apology, seeming genuine with it, but how could you even be mad at him? or how could he even think you would be mad at him?

shaking your head, you moved yourself down onto the bed, situating yourself in between his thighs, watching how his adam's apple bobbed with nervousness and excitement, how a dribble of precum ran down his dick with every tremor that ran down his body.

"You're sorry for what, Kento?" you asked, the question being more of a chastise for him even thinking that he needed to apologise for this, rather than an actual question. in all honesty, seeing your husband like this, undone into a puddle of desperation and lust, was something you would kill to see on a daily, so you were definitely not complaining.

taking a single finger, you trailed it down his thigh, inching closer and closer to the one spot that was the key to getting rid of all his frustrations and stress, even if just for a day. he let out a quiet sigh, watching you with eager eyes, silently pleading with you to do something, anything, to relieve the pulsing ache.

"Do you want me to help you, Kento?" you, once again, gave him a question. your voice was sweet, soft, as if lulling him into a sort of haze. your voice worked like a siren's, bringing him in and in, with only mere words. having him wrapped around your pinky. true, most of the time, nanami preferred to be the dominating one, the one in control, however, he also knew how to let himself be taken care of by others, specifically, you.

"Please, honey, please, I need you so badly." his voice was strained, barely managing to hold himself back; hold himself out for long enough for you to do something.

taking that as your sign to continue, you put a coy little smile on your face, lowering yourself to lay comfortably between his legs on the soft bed, before placing one, single, chaste kiss to his angry, red tip.

he let out a groan in response, head falling back, peeking at you from under his eyelashes, hands trembling slightly at the feeling. your kiss felt good, so good, but it wasn't near enough for what he wanted, no, needed.

"Darling you, fuck, tease..." he groaned out, situating himself to rest on his elbows, so he could see you better, and see what you were up to.

you would have teased him for longer, but the look on his face, one of love, neediness, pure eagerness and desire, was enough to pull you out of your teasing and cruel state, and you decided to help your beloved partner, help him release all the stress within him.

opening your lips, you slowly lowered yourself onto his aching, hardened cock, lowering yourself further and further, as you attempted to take him fully, with, as you soon found out, ended futilely on the first go, with uncovered space still left at his base. however, that alone was enough to cause nanami to let out a low moan, pressing his eyes shut again, letting the darkness consume him as he focused entirely on the pleasure he felt in the moment.

the scene was messy. your drool dribbling down nanami's sensitive cock, the tip of it pressed and poked against the back of your throat, trying to push further and further, however, it was stopped through the tightening of your throat, and the sounds of gags and chokes on his large size.

he gently moved one of his hands to rest on your head, not pushing, not pressing down, just trying to ground himself to reality from the immense pleasure he felt. "Sweetheart, it feels so good... You're doing so well..."

nanami kento has a way with words. a way that made you feel eager and excited to pleasure him, to satisfy him, in hopes of getting more and more praise.

trying to breathe through your nose, you slowly relaxed your throat, bobbing your head up and down, attempting to inch further and further down his large dick, holding onto his thighs with trembling hands, as your tongue swirled around his leaking tip, which resulted in a loud, higher pitched moan than before from nanami.

the moan was all you needed to proceed with your actions, desperately trying to bring your beloved to the edge of release, as you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking on his cock so well he could practically see stars in his eyes.

taking one of your hands, you gingerly brought it to his balls, beginning to slowly mess and play with them, testing new waters to see if it would have the desired effect on nanami.

and it did not fail.

in mere seconds, nanami was falling apart on the bed, his legs trembling pathetically, his hips jerking up to your mouth, his back on the bed, his arms having lost all strength to support himself. curses, moans, and groans of your name kept spilling from his mouth, as not once did he open his eyes. hot spurts of his cum landed in your mouth, on your tongue, as you began to taste the salty yet slightly bitter taste of it on your tongue.

letting him ride out high long-awaited orgasm, you took all that he gave you, only pulling off once you saw his body laying practically limp on the bed, regaining himself from the experience.

but, of course, he was a gentleman at heart. he wouldn't let such a favour go unrewarded, oh no, he couldn't have that.

"How about you let me pleasure you now, love? What do you say?"

(author's note: finished writing this after finishing AOT S3 - the ending hurt so bad that i couldn't even cry)

[fastandcarlos]

Jealous And Pregnant : ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll

summary: with your hormones through the roof, all the little things send your jealousy skyrocketing

Your heart sunk as you watched Lance be fussed over by the makeup artist, her hands repeatedly brushing through his hair. The smile that was on Lance’s face had you feeling uncomfortable, almost as if you were the one intruding on the two of them. 

There were people everywhere as they prepared for the launch of the new car, with you blending into the crowd, Lance had no idea that your eyes were on him, concentrating on getting himself ready. 

The look on your face though caught Chloe’s eye as she walked through, taking a seat beside you as you placed your hands against your bump, trying your best to stay as comfortable as you could. 

“Just ignore him,” Chloe told you, following your eyes to see where you were looking. 

You wanted to, but the sound of Lance’s laughter pulled you straight back in again. Chloe placed a hand on your shoulder, watching Lance too with a shake of her head, surprised by how close the makeup artist was. 

“She’s always been a little flirty,” Chloe tried to defend, not wanting you to worry. “She’d flirt with a fish if you put one in front of her, I swear.” 

You smiled appreciatively back at Chloe at her attempts to try and make you feel better. “I thought he’d do a bit of a better job of telling her to stop, he almost looks like he’s enjoying it with her.” 

Chloe didn’t quite know what to say as she saw the smile on her brother’s face, part of her wanted to march over and drag him away, but she knew she couldn’t leave your side too with you heavily pregnant. 

“He adores you, he’s probably just being nice,” Chloe whispered, nudging against your side. “Don’t overthink this too much, it’s not good for you right now getting stressed.” 

You wanted to relax, to enjoy watching Lance get ready, with all the excitement to launch the car for the new season, but now you were on the edge of your seat, terrified about what could happen over in the makeup chair. 

“Lance is too nice to tell anyone to get lost, sometimes I wish he’d grow a backbone.” 

Chloe couldn’t help but chuckle as you spoke, “I bet if I went over and told him that you were upset right now, he’d be absolutely mortified, he’s just oblivious to people and their feelings sometimes.” 

“Maybe I should just go, before I end up hurting myself.” 

You stood up from where you were sat, walking out of the room to the front reception of the centre. It was much quieter than the bustle of the makeup room, giving you a chance to sit back and relax and try to forget about the lingering thoughts of what was going on with Lance at the back of your mind. 

Once he was finished with hair and makeup, Lance stood up from the chair, his eyes immediately searching for you. When he found Chloe, he walked straight over to her, noticing the disapproving look that she wore as soon as she saw him coming over to her. 

“You’re an idiot,” she scolded, hitting against his arm. “You could’ve made it a little less obvious that you were getting your hair done by that stupid stylist.” 

“Where is she?” Lance frowned, letting go of a sigh. “I wasn’t enjoying it, but it’s just got to be done. I should probably go and find her and fix things, right?” 

“She’s pregnant Lance, she can’t help how she feels.” 

Lance rushed out of the room and around the centre in search of you. He flew through every room, eyes darting around for you. As he got to the front of the building, he finally found you sat in one of the office chairs, staring out of the window. 

He slowed down as he approached you, grabbing a chair and pulling it over to sit beside you. You didn’t react when you felt Lance’s presence beside you, continuing to look out of the window, pretending that he wasn’t there. 

“Honey,” Lance whispered, placing his hand against your shoulder to get your attention. 

Lance could tell from the look on your face that you were upset, your body was tense, your brows slightly furrowed, breathing much heavier than it usually was. 

“I’m sorry if what happened back there upset you,” Lance added, “I didn’t think anything of it, but I can imagine how it probably looked from the outside. She’s got a bit of a thing for my hair, she keeps fluffing it, I actually find it quite annoying.” 

Your eyes slowly turned to look in Lance’s direction, “are you just saying that?” 

Lance’s head shook as he offered you a reassuring smile. “Honestly, I can’t really stand her, but she’s got a job to do. I don’t know what else you think happens between the two of us, but I promise that that’s it.” 

“I probably look stupid, don’t I?” You sighed, resting your hand against your bump once again. “These stupid hormones leave me never quite sure how I should be feeling these days.” 

Lance nodded understandingly; he’d been on the receiving end of enough of your mood swings to know that you were struggling. One moment you were smiling, the next crying, never quite knowing how to feel. 

His hand moved up to rest over yours against your bump, brushing the pad of his thumb against the back of your hand. Admittedly, Lance knew that he wasn’t the smartest when it came to seeing other people’s intentions, never meaning to upset you like he did sometimes. 

“There’s no need to be jealous of her,” Lance told you, leaning across to kiss your cheek. “You know that you’re the only person for me, there’s never been anyone else.” 

Your head nodded as you tried to stay composed, feeling your eyes begin to well up. Your hand quickly reached up to your eyes, wiping underneath them, which Lance quickly caught onto. 

His expression softened as he watched you, pulling you closer into him. As a tear rolled down your cheek, Lance quickly caught it with the back of his hand, wiping it away. 

“Please don’t cry,” he softly smiled. 

“I don’t mean to.” 

“I know, hormones,” Lance chuckled, knowing exactly what you were like. “All you need to know is that I adore you, and that there’s no reason to be jealous. If you want, I can see if I can get someone else to do my hair and makeup for the shoots from now on.” 

Your head shook as you leaned against Lance’s shoulder. “It’s ridiculous that I’m even getting jealous about something like this, you’re at work, and I know that you’ll always be professional. I can’t wait to have this baby so I can just feel normal again, without constantly feeling like I’m some sort of whirlwind.” 

“It’s alright,” Lance reminded you, “you don’t need to justify anything or explain yourself; I know how you’re feeling, even though it might not seem so.” 

Your eyes flickered up to Lance, “would it be easier if I just went? You’ve got enough on your plate today without having to worry about me.” 

“No, I want you here,” Lance assured you, “you’re a part of the team here and I want you to see the car, you’ve heard me talk about it enough times.” 

“I don’t want to be in the way Lance.” 

He tightened his grip around you, “you’re not in the way, I want you here more than I want anyone else here. I’ll make sure you and Chloe are sat together; she’ll be able to look out for you.” 

“And I promise not to get jealous,” you teased, “although from now on, the only person who gets to touch your hair, is me.” 

“My hair is all yours my love.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

that makes me happy : ) im glad hes having fun. im going to get yelled at for being awake still as soon as i post this though so im going to bed- im just glad it sounds like the filming is fun and entertaining, i really loved the weird animals, cant wait to see what other goofiness comes out of this, i could use something lighthearted and a bit nonsensical, and the children yearn for the mines joke was genuinely hilarious to me, i cant wait to see what this thing turns out like, im gonna watch it with my friends and maybe eat a nice pretzel with nacho cheese : )

this makes it sound like he was fucking sniffing around the set searching for lapis lazuli and that’s so much funnier than reality

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 2)

I was so excited to hear this Takeover since it is only Sonic and Shadow talking to each other and answering question. It is one of those times where you get to see their dynamic without anyone else's input.

Since I feel like I could write an essay about these two, I decided to instead put all my thoughts into bullet points, this being Part 2 of my list:

Obligatory ''Shadow likes Latinas'' joke.

I love how Sonic sees their rivalry as a friendly competition, even describing it as being two sides of the same coin and pushing each other to be better. Shadow points out how he fights because he has a purpose and he will fight Sonic if their ideals clash. Sonic isn't buying it, though. He really wants to make it clear that his presence is important to Shadow and he wants to hear that from Shadow himself. Shadow finally agrees, with Sonic sounding so proud of himself.

Addendum: Considering how the cutscene battle in Sonic X Shadow Generations went, Shadow definitely can't resist fighting Sonic to best him, regardless of his own goals. Their rivalry gives him purpose.

''GO OFF KING!!'' Sonic, what?! X3

Shadow goes on a rant about Super Monkey Ball, with Sonic immediately trying to apologize for the whole thing. It's hilarious!

''THOSE MONKEYS NEED TO PUT ON SOME PANTS!!'' Shadow, you don't even wear pants.

I love how when Sonic and Shadow talk about Jet, Sonic immediately turns the question to be about their rivalry, pointing out how their little competition is why Shadow keeps Sonic around. Shadow just groans in exasperation, but we all know Sonic's telling the truth.

Black Doom really has an obsession with Radical Highway. I suppose Radical Highway is to Shadow what Green Hill Zone is to Sonic. Also, love how Shadow retorts to Sonic's ''Radical'' pun by calling him ''Mr. Green Hill Zone''.

When they're asked to draw something, their immediate response is to draw each other, with Sonic even trying to give some input to Shadow. They're not the best at it, though; something they wholeheartedly agree on.

Shadow is so proud to have his Year, and Sonic likes it too, to the point of showering him with constant compliments. Shadow enjoys it, but claims how he's not ''seeking attention''. Nobody's buying that Shadow.

Sonic Shuffle get mentioned!!

Shadow played chess with Maria, which is really nice. Also, if Sonic ever plays chess with Shadow, he'd totally be the guy who eats the chess pieces, much to Shadow's confusion. Also, the fact that Shadow claims how Sonic would lose on purpose to annoy him is both hilarious and also kinda sweet, considering how Sonic has been acting in this whole Takeover.

Fadel is back and trying to get into either Team Hero or Team Dark... and Sonic and Shadow clearly refuse to have him on their teams. I find it hilarious how Sonic immediately directs him to Team Dark and Shadow claims how applications are closed, then points him at Team Hero and gaslights Sonic into reluctantly accepting Fadel into the team.

I actually watched Games Cage's reaction to that, and he is completely oblivious to the fact that Sonic is being passive-aggressive by mentioning how Tails called dibs on their only parachute, meaning Sonic is cool with letting the guy fall off the Tornado. X3

Sonic is so persistent about wanting to hug Shadow! I get Sonic Prime vibes from this and I'm loving it.

''I don't need... your kind of hugs.'' There's two things I can conclude from this:

Shadow only likes the hugs Maria and Amy gave.

Shadow actually would be fine with Sonic hugging him, but they have to be meaningful rather than fleeting considering his earlier comment. Sonic is totally oblivious to that, though.

Sonic Boom ''Shadow broods in a cave'' reference!

Besides training, Shadow's hobby is reading. He's a bookworm, and Sonic sounds so excited about learning that. I can totally see Sonic thinking about dragging Shadow into another Storybook Adventure.

Shadow's first time turning Super was still him learning how to control that power. It explains why he ran out of energy back then, while Sonic had more experience and could keep it longer. Sonic also keeps complimenting Shadow about looking cool in his Super Form, even calling him wise for pointing out how that power needs to be controlled.

WHY DOES SONIC HAVE ABRAHAM TOWER ON SPEED DIAL?!

Shadow definitely doesn't work for G.U.N. That's something that has been confirmed. I have to say, the whole conversation between the Commander and Shadow was really awkward, but the kicker is Sonic's being oblivious to the whole awkwardness. He is so proud that he arranged a call between them.

I love how Sonic's neutral opinion about Orbot changes immediately the moment he hears Shadow's own thoughts on the robot. Once Shadow says he dislikes Orbot, Sonic immediately agrees with him, and when Orbot offers to get them coffee, causing Shadow to like him, Sonic also agrees that Orbot is fine. This really feels like Sonic wants Shadow's approval by agreeing with his opinions.

Sonic and Shadow are arguing about who is better at raising their Chao. They legit sound like married couple arguing about how to take care of their children. Sonic is definitely the fun dad, while Shadow has to take care of the discipline.

Shadow doesn't believe in ghosts, despite Sonic pointing out how they ran into paranormal stuff several times. Sonic also tries to scare him a couple of times, with Shadow showing no reaction.

Shadow's favorite Doom Power is Doom Morph, and Sonic is a little jealous of that form once he hears more about it. The fact that Shadow just keeps bragging about it and annoying Sonic is hilarious.

''Skill issue!'' Lol, Shadow. I can imagine Sonic rolling his eyes at that comment.

Shadow scolds the person who listens to the Twitter Takeover instead of studying for their exam. He really cares about their education, while Sonic points out how he needs to lighten up.

Let's be honest, Sonic and Shadow definitely love hanging out with each other, admitting it in their own way that they care about each other.

I believe that this Takeover proves that Sonic and Shadow really have a good dynamic when they sit down and hang out with each other. They bicker, they tease each other, they come to agreements and disagreements, they care... It is so enjoyable to listen to them and I'm looking forward to seeing more!

Oh, and yeah, this was a feast for the Sonadow fans, if you ask me. I hope you guys will enjoy my notes, because I'm definitely going to take advantage of all the new information I got. I can't wait for the meal we'll get once the Sonic the Hedgehog 3 movie comes out.

#Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 1)

#Sonic Cyber Revolution (Masterlist)

[jasvtsc]

good girl’s dream

“better? you’re gonna stop cryin’ now?” he asked, keeping his fingers in your mouth.

you sniffled and nodded, however a pathetic whine escaped your lips at the sudden emptiness after he pulled his fingers out.

sometimes, ben had his moments of tenderness where he wasn’t acting like a total dick. you were his little princess, so sometimes you got special treatment—well, you always got special treatment, but the options varied.

cause he would either destroy your pussy and call you a fucking slut or hold you tightly and stroke your hair as you fell asleep in his lap.

and now, you got the more tender side of him.

he sighed and wiped his fingers on his shirt, looking at you with something that resembled both exasperation and amusement. and maybe a tiny bit of concern.

you just fell and lightly scraped your knee like half an hour ago but kept wailing even after coming home. so annoyed with the sound of you crying (and not really knowing what to do to make you feel better) he stuffed his thick digits into your mouth. and that was enough to keep you quiet and calm you down as you softly suckled on them.

but when you started blinking more heavily, your body practically going numb, he quickly withdrew them. which explained the yet another pout on your face, your lower lip slightly quivering.

“come on, baby. it’s just a small bruise. it’s not that bad,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. fuck, you were making him soft. but he couldn’t be angry when you were looking so sweet, with those big puppy eyes that just yearned for his love and attention.

gosh, you were so pathetically adorable, just wanting him to take care of you.

with a sigh, he lifted you up, placing you on his lap and lifting your leg, looking at your knee. your skin was slightly scraped and reddened but it didn’t seem to be anything serious—at least not to him. he started blowing some air on your small injury, his warm breath hitting your skin and making you shiver. he smirked and then leaned forward, placing small kisses all over the spot.

when a small smile graced your face, he pulled away and started stroking your hair.

“there we go. atta girl,” he cooed lowly, cradling the back of your head, rubbing his thumb on your temple. “much better when you’re not being a sniffling baby,” he scoffed and pulled your head forward, kissing your forehead and then your lips.

“i’m not a baby,” you murmured with a pout, and ben swore to himself that if you started crying again, he’d just put a muzzle on you.

“yes, you very much are. such a lil’ crybaby. always crying and sniffling for daddy, hmm?” he teased, his hands slowly going up your legs and under your miniskirt.

you gasped as his thumbs started rubbing your folds, toying with them through the thin material of the pink-ish lace. god, did he fucking love when you wore the things he bought you.

already in a daze-like state, you slumped further into the bed, basically drowning between the pillows as he kept working you up. you let out a soft whimper and he smirked, now beginning to rub your clit.

“these sounds are so much better than you sobbin’ your pretty eyes out, baby,” he drawled, applying more pressure on your sensitive bud and making you gasp, oh so sweetly. “yeah, so much better.”

slowly, he slid your now dampened panties down, but kept them on your ankles. then, he made you cum around his dick seven times, leaving you spent and filled to the brim with his creamy essence. satisfied with himself, he pulled your panties back up and patted your core, giving your messy folds a few strokes with his thumb.

“there we go. all sleepy and filled with daddy’s cum. and we’re gonna keep it there all nicely cause we don’t want it to go to waste or do we?” he cocked an eyebrow, expecting only one answer from you.

“n-no. we won’t,” you slurred, slowly shaking your head.

“good girl,” he smiled darkly, pressing his thumb on your clothed and filled hole, feeling you clench around nothing but your mixed juices.

you were such a good girl for him.

[sturnsrecord]

OVER THE PHONE

— [ex!matt x reader. angst] matt bites the bullet and decides to call you on a lonely night, desperate to just hear your voice.

ʚ part two ɞ

the thought of you often appeared in matt's head. and when it didn't, he'd consciously think about you, all the things he remembered loving about you.

it could be as simple as your smile, or even the way you rolled your eyes at him. 

he contemplated your entire relationship. going over how it ended, as well as every mistake he ever made.

he hadn't been like this with any other girl he'd seen or dated. he'd usually shut all the memories out and move on. convincing himself that it was for the better, which apparently it was. 

but you – you plagued his mind, with both wanted and unwanted thoughts. 

he tries to keep some dignity, acting like he's fine and that he doesn't miss you. but despite the persona he plays in front of his friends and family, he knows the truth. he knows how much he misses you. 

he's considered calling you a few times, mostly on nights where he feels lonely and nostalgic, his memory of your voice not being quite enough to fuel his dopamine. 

so he drops his pride, scrolling through his contacts to find your name. his finger hovers over the call button, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip nervously.

maybe he should just send a text, he thinks to himself. but he knows he doesn’t want that – he wants to hear your voice, and your tone. 

he decides to go for it, starting the call as he brings the phone up to his ear. his heart pounds in his chest, there's a good chance you won't even pick up, or that you'll hang up as soon as he starts speaking. 

but his heart stops as soon as he hears your voice.

“matt?” you question, confused. his mind goes blank, short circuiting. he hadn't really thought about what he was gonna say, now just sat there, his mouth run dry as he listens to you.

“matt?” you say again, now slightly worried. “hello?” you chime, wondering what the fuck was up.

he finally speaks up, his voice coming out in croak. “uh, he- hey.” he mumbles, his palms sweaty. he swallows, trying to calm his nerves.

“hi?” you say, still not understanding what was going on. you sigh when he doesn't respond, considering hanging up on this non-eventful phone call. 

he notices the way you sigh, his heart picking up again. “don’t - just don't hang up.” he panics slightly, taking a deep breath.

“ok.” you mumble, giving him the benefit of the doubt. “i just wanna talk - just about anything.” he mumbles weakly, trying not to sound pathetic. “tell me ‘bout your day.” he says quietly, a meek suggestion.

you sigh again, reluctant to do this. but you'd be lying if you said a part of you didn’t wanna talk to matt. you thought about him sometimes too.

“tell you about my day?” you question, frowning a little at the suggestion.

“yeah.” he breathes out, trying to relax his body a little. “anythin’, just wanna hear your voice.” he admits. you sigh, rubbing your temple. what the fuck were you doing? 

“i've not been doing much - mostly just work.” you mumble out, abiding by his simple request. he lets out a small breath at your words, happy that you'd decided to continue the conversation. 

he smiles to himself, reminding himself that you were in college now, living a whole other life. “right, college. forgot ‘bout that.” he mumbles out, fiddling with the bottom of his top as he speaks. “how is it over there?” he asks, suddenly desperate to know everything about your new life.

“it's ok. hard work, but it's good.” you nod as you speak, trying to respond as casually as possible. “nice change in pace.” you add quietly.

he swallows, listening to your every word. he sat there imagining you in your new life, studying at college. you were always smart, and it made him happy that you were doing something good with your life, something you'd spoken about to him when you were together. 

“they’re not workin’ you too hard are they?” he jokes, keeping the conversation light and interesting for both your benefit.

“what, at college?” you joke back sarcastically. “nah, it's just what i signed up for.” you sigh, smiling to yourself without even thinking.

he nods, biting back a smile. “you happy though?” he asks sincerely, wanting to make sure you were good. 

you think for a second, nodding to yourself. “yeah, i am.” you respond quietly and honestly. “social lifes good, turns out not every girl here is a bitch.” you joke, getting more comfortable in the conversation. 

he raises his eyebrows, chuckling under his breath. “that’s surprising.” he chimes back, amused by your lack of filter that he knew so well. “s’no surprise though, you've never been bad at making friends.” he says kindly, knowing damn well how easy you were to talk to. how you'd effortlessly charm everyone with your addictive personality, in a way he admired and wished he could do.

his compliment makes your brain fizzle with happiness, but you push past it to keep the conversation lighthearted. “yeah, not socially awkward like you.” you retort back playfully, smiling ear to ear as you speak. 

he scoffs at your insult, although he found comfort and relaxation in the light teasing. finding it easy. “wow, rude.” he responds, shifting around his bed to get more comfy. “s’not my fault i like a smaller social circle.” he defends.

“yeah, you tell yourself that.” you snap back quickly, lightly chuckling as you speak. then there's a silence across the call, one where it would feel like a good time to hang up. but neither of you wanted to, that much was clear. 

“you doin’ okay?” you mumble through the phone, knowing that now was probably the only time you'd be talking like this. checking in on one another wasn't exactly a usual occurrence.

he swallows hard, his whole body feeling hot at the caring tone in your voice. “yeah - i mean, i've been better.” he mumbles awkwardly, trying to sugar coat his emotions. he was fine, just not great. but you weren't in his life like that anymore, you didn't need to know. 

your face drops a little at his words. right, so he wasn't doing okay. “m’sorry, ‘bout that.” you mumble quietly, unsure what to say. 

“it's fine” he huffs, fidgeting with the blanket under him, also unaware of what to say. the conversation veering in a slighter deeper direction, a direction he didn't particularly wanna go with you right now.

but his words escape his lips quickly and quietly, his emotions coming out over his logical thinking. “i miss you.”

his words send a thrilling shock through you. you let out a sigh, trying really hard not to say it back and make this whole stupid phone call an emotional breakdown over your past relationship. 

he swallows at your lack of response, knowing it was stupid of him to say. but talking to you on the phone like this was driving him insane, knowing he couldn't just do this whenever. it's like he was on a time limit to get everything off his chest before he went back to his life without you. 

the call is silent, but he knows you won't just hang up without saying anything. he feels his emotions bubbling over within him, the hurt consuming his mind with thoughts and questions, consuming his everything.

one question rattles in his brain, gnawing at him on a replay, so much that he didn't know if he was saying it outloud by accident or if his inner voice was just that loud. but considering the hole he's already dug himself into he stupidly lets it slip, needing to know the answer so deeply.

“are you seeing anyone?”

you shut your eyes firmly, hoping you hadn’t just heard that. “matt.” you whisper, practically pleading him to stop with just the tone of your voice. 

“i know, i know.” he mumbles, backtracking as he realises what he's just said. he knows he shouldn't have pried like that, but the need to know overtakes his pride. “i just.” he begins, sighing to himself. “i just need to know.” he croaks out, voice breaking. 

“matt.” you whisper again, in the same pleading tone that was telling him to stop asking questions he didn’t wanna know the answer to. “please don't.” you huff, practically warning him of the answer already. 

his stomach drops. fuck. you’d just answered his question, and fuck did it hurt. he was taking this a lot worse than he thought he would, jealousy surging into every nerve ending of his body. an emotion he didn't often show because of how ugly it was.

“just tell me.” he mutters, his voice coming out in a rasp of both desperation and pain. you bite down on your bottom lip nervously, honestly debating hanging up, but you owed him at least this. to be honest with him.

“yeah.” you say weakly, your heart rate picking up as you become nervous. “i have a boyfriend.” you mumble out. you know that's not what he wants to hear, but what were you meant to do.

“fuck.” he whispers under his breath, his body relaxing from its tension as the words finally leave your mouth. but what filled in was much worse, the pain and jealousy of knowing you'd moved on whilst he was still sat here thinking about you almost everyday. he felt pathetic in all honesty. 

“matt, m’sorry-” you begin, feeling bad. but he cuts you off quickly. “no, no- you don't need to.” he sighs, rubbing his temple. “you don't need to apologise, for that.” he speaks softly, trying his hardest to rationalise with that part of his brain. the logical part screaming at him to not get upset over this, to not let it completely ruin him. 

“m’happy for you.” he mumbles out, the words catching in his throat, like he's struggling to say them. maybe thats because deep down he didn’t really mean them, some fucked up, jealous part of him cruelly wishing you weren’t happy. but he couldn't act out on that. he was smart enough to understand this wasn't his place to comment, nor let his ugly emotions get the better of him. 

“thanks.” you mutter back, trying to keep the situation civil. you knew he was upset. you knew because if he had a new girlfriend you'd be freaking out, probably hating it more than you'd like to admit. and maybe that wasn't fair, but weren’t gonna dwell on the logistics of the situation.

he takes a deep breath, trying to keep up his calm demeanour, not wanting to pathetically slip up. but it's difficult trying to keep his mind at bay with thoughts of you happy with someone else. a part of him crumbled, knowing that something he had dreaded for a while now was true, and it had been for a while.

“i'm uh- i'm gonna go.” he mumbles, deciding that he couldn't talk to you anymore without practically breaking down. 

“right, okay.” you mumble, mentally smacking yourself for letting the conversation get to this. you scrape your brain for something else to say, something to fix the now low mood. but nothing comes to mind, regret taking over. 

“bye matt.” you whisper softly, the shock of the situation beginning to take over, your eyes brimming with tears as you think about the fact you've just hurt someone you care so much about. 

maybe it had been easier this whole time when you weren't talking to matt, able to keep him so incredibly separate from whatever life you were living now.

the only reason you'd been able to move on is because there was hardly anything else in your life that had any attachment to matt anymore. but getting a call from him, and hearing his voice, it really fucked you up.

“bye.” he whispers back before hastily hanging up, letting out a sigh as his eyes water. god was that a bad idea. he takes a few deep breaths, stopping himself from crying over this.

he felt pathetic and sad for himself. here you were moving on and he was just stuck, stuck on a part of both your lives that you had so easily left behind.

he hated himself for it, because he only had himself to blame.

©sturnsrecord

notes . this was inspired by @pearlzier c.ai chris bot lmao

tag list . @iizzyyy @sophsturns @strnilolover @sturniolossss @hearts4sturniolo @emely9274 @dominicfikeenthusiast

[mr-tony-stark]

Tony nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a good idea,” he agreed.  He rubbed Clint’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. He felt hopeful about this.  It was a feeling he wasn’t particularly used to.  It was scary - but in a good way.

“Your house was really nice,” he said.  “Just needs some TLC.  I don’t mind it being rustic.  I’ll need a space to work.  And the more permanent the stay is, the more serious that space would need to be.  But I’m not opposed to the aesthetic. Or putting in the work to make it sound.”

Tony hummed and ran his hand up the inside of Clint’s leg. “Mmm… just let me finish getting ready for bed.  I’ll be back soon.”

Clint smiled a bit listening to him and nodded softly. “That sounds good,” he whispers before humming and nodded again. “Alright,” he spoke softly. “We can get some pain first and start with that and removing all ruined furniture before ordering the other furniture so we actually have space for it when the new stuff comes,” he spoke and smiled.

“We can make it our home together. Over time,” he spoke and smiled before humming again and stroked his hand up his thigh. “So about that adult stuff we talked about doing..” he trailed off and hummed.

[ninikrumbs]

taste me too

Satoru Gojo x reader. fluff. domestic satoru. teeny weeny bit of angst

Ever since you started dating Satoru, you have never felt that tinge of loneliness you use to feel. Not that you minded being alone. It was peaceful.

You used to go watch a movie in the cinema alone. Eat at that new restaurant with a table for one. Have cozy nights in with homemade face masks and belting out to your favorite singer of the week, self care and whatnot. In your opinion, why miss out on the things you want to do just because you’re on your own?

But now, you look to the side and there’s another hand in your popcorn basket, just as giddy for the Barbie movie. You look down at your plate and you see your steak already sliced for your convenience under the romantically lit restaurant. The man in front of you with bright blue eyes, gazing at you so endearingly with a goofy grin on his face as he listened to you babble about your day. And lastly, it wasn’t just you belting out on your hairbrush with a matcha green face mask on his face and a headband pulling back his snowy white hair.

Maybe you didn’t mind being alone, but with Satoru sitting on top of the toilet seat as he gazes up at you almost reverent like - silently waiting for his turn to try out the new lip balm you bought for the cold winter months-always wanting to be included, your eyes burn.

“Toru, stop staring.”

He pouts, “I’m just waiting for you to be done.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before you continue swiping the new balm on your dry lips, it smells like strawberry. Satisfied, you smack your lips together with a grin. Lips now soft and moisturized. “Wow! its really nice and doesn’t feel sticky.”

You turn to Satoru to hand him the lipbalm. To your surprise, he was already standing up, looking at you expectantly. “My turn, my turn!”

You laugh at his excitement, shaking your head fondly. “Here.”

You missed the mischievous glint in his eyes as his hand reaches up to supposedly grab the lipbalm from your hand. He then seemingly misses and cups your face instead. You were slightly taken aback, confused at what he was doing. “Toru what-”

You were cut you short when he leans down and plants his lips on your newly glossed ones. Your mind somewhat convinced yourself that he was ruining your lipstick so you push him back a bit. “Toru-”

But to no avail, as he pulls you by waist, flushed to his chest. He angles his head and kisses you again, deeper this time. It makes you feel warm and hazy. The smacking of lips echoes throughout the bathroom, the balm only making it more distinct. You grab onto the collar of his sweater to ground yourself. The kiss is slow and passionate and as he licks your bottom lip, his tongue tangling with yours, you forgot why you were protesting in the first place.

To your dismay, the both of you needed oxygen. You pull away first, his lips chasing yours before you hid your face in his chest, breathing heavily. “Let me breath a sec,”

He wraps his arms around your body and you feel his heart thumping fast through his chest making you smile. He chuckles, the sound flitting through you. “You’re right, it is nice- amazing even.”

You lift you head to glare at him but it has no real force behind it. “You’re shameless, you know that? Here I thought you wanted to try it!”

And he has the gal to grin, “I did try it!” He licks his lips and hums in delight, yet you doubt there were any traces of the lipbalm left. “Tastes so good too.”

Despite everything, you feel your face burn. “Youre officially kicked out of self care night!”

“What? Nooo! Baby, I was just teasing-”

Yes, you might not have any shred of peace ever again, but you don’t mind. Not one bit.

^^ comments are much appreciated <3

[writerofjourneys]

So I have a request if it’s alright with you of zhongli x phoenix reader since zhongli is a dragon right and there’s a lot of story’s apparently about a dragon and phoenix being a perfect match and I don’t know if this is true or not they represent Yin and Yang

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐮𝐬

A/N: I think I might make a continuation of this or something. I just love this idea, thanks for this, Anon! I did change Reader’s animal form from a phoenix to fenghuang since I feel is more fitting, so apologies for not meeting your exact request. And I’m also sorry for this ridiculously long wait, uni has been a pain. I don’t know how I feel about this piece, but I’ve kept it for months already and I think it’s well enough to post.

Fandom(s): Genshin Impact

Zhongli x (Adeptus)Wife Fem Reader

Summary: With the longest lasting relationship in all of Teyvat history, the union of Rex Lapis and Regina Lux is widely celebrated and respected across the seven nation than just Liyue. Even living as mortals now, your love remains, in story and in present.

One-shot

Content: Reader is an adeptus fenghuang sometimes mistaken for a phoenix, romance, fluff, Liyue Archon Quest, Liyue lore, Soft Zhongli, Retired/former Archon Zhongli, married Zhongli/Reader.

Warnings: None.

Main List | 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | AO3

Feeling the familiar stir of your rousing consciousness, you sensed the familiar touch of a hand caressing your head. Gently stroking your locks of hairs before rubbing a thumb against your cheek.

Blinking your eyes open, you’re greeted with the familiar face of your husband staring back at you, warmth and adoration in his gold eyes. The corners of his lips rising a little upwards. He always seems to look at you as if you were the most ethereal thing on this planet after all these years together. But you knew that if he were asked that very question, that was already going to be his answer.

“Good morning, my love.” Morax, now Zhongli, softly greeted, voice calm and deep. He pushed a stray hair strand away from your face.

Usually sleeping shirtless, the real colors of his arms were out in the open. A gradient of pitch black from his shoulders to a light tint of gold from his hands, some black scales peeking out. The gold symbol rune lines trailing over his whole arms gave a faint glimmer amidst the dim darkness of your shared bedroom. Or more like nest, where an abundance of pillows and blankets and a mattress as a base were scattered about that looked more like a makeshift nest than a typical bed.

Although he sticks to wearing gloves and long sleeves, Zhongli still finds it nice to have them off, which revealed his gold markings. Visible proof of his godly identity. You liked to trace them with your own hands, twinkling cosmic irises admiring their details.

“Mm, morning..” you sigh, moving to huddle closer to his body.

Zhongli welcomes your presence automatically. Wrapping his arms around your waist loosely as you’re pressed against his chest. Typically preferring to wear his own dress shirts to sleep, as they were big enough to be nightgowns on you. You commonly wore them when you were able to stay at home with your husband.

Zhongli lets out a deep purr within his chest, a sound that came straight from a beast, but its tone calmer rather than aggressive or of warning. He always adored when you’d wear his shirts, the dragon side of him pleased to have you basked in a mix of both your scents and the statement that you were his. His lover, his wife. His one and only mate.

A purr of your own responded back, soft and gentle. A different contrast to his more deeply masculine one.

Being an adventurer for the Adventurer’s Guild meant always traveling somewhere. Which can also be unpredictable about where you’re going to with commissions. Though it was possible to make a request for more local locations. Even as an adeptus posing as a human, you had to blend in with the habits of a mortal.

Of course, Zhongli welcomely offers his own assistance to accompany you when he was available. Another way to spend time with you.

Your husband hugs you a little tighter as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Brushing through your locks of hair and playing with some of the coloured streaks. “Shall we get ready for the day, little mate? We have time to spend together before I must meet with the Traveler in the afternoon.”

It was an endearing nickname he gave you all those centuries ago, with the size difference between you. Though not by vast amount, it was clear in any form your husband’s height was more than yours.

You hum in response, “I suppose we should..” you snuggle closer, taking in his warmth and his familiar scent that completely relaxes you. “I do prefer when we get ready together.”

Zhongli smiles so softly, “You had been away for quite awhile, and I am always affected by your absence.“

A small giggle escapes you, “I came back in time before the Rite of Descension, Mora. Especially to return your Gnosis.“

For a certain period of time, your husband gave his Gnosis to you for safekeeping. Even though he was fully capable of taking care of it himself, for who else would be able to steal from the Warrior God and eldest of The Seven. Though it wouldn’t be so hard to believe the Fatui could try something, their Archon made a contract with the god of contracts. He handed you the chest piece shaped power object to look after in his stead as another gesture of his unwavering trust in you.

You knew already that he trusted you without hesitation, but it was thoughtful nonetheless. Like how going on dates, giving gifts, and doting on a lover were among a list of acts in a loving relationship. To the both of you, this was just one of them.

“Yes, but you should already know, beloved, that when you must leave my side, I miss you every one of those times.”

Now a tint of pink blooms over your cheeks. Honestly, this man never fails to turn you into a blushing new bride all over again. Just like all those centuries ago when your Zhongli began to court you.

“And what is this old dragon to do without his beautiful fenghuang to complete him as his other half?” he chuckles.

“Maybe miss out on something meaningful.” you playfully teased before replying back “I always miss you when we’re apart, too.” and nuzzled his neck. “There’s no better company in this world than yours.”

Your husband looks on with adoration, giving you a light squeeze. “I can’t agree more, my wife. You have always been my blessing.“

The rosy color on your face didn’t escape Zhongli, who chuckles, a sound melodic and soothing. He had a habit of saying that. It was a common remark to describe you all those years ago by the mortals. Being referred to as such without personal connection left you indifferent towards it mostly. Which then changed when Zhongli courted you, and your relationship developed more intimately.

“Should I help style your hair, darling?” he caresses your locks spreading across your pillow. The little few coloured highlights flowing down visibly.

“You know I enjoy it when you do.” you kiss his jaw.

Walking around Liyue Harbor with arms locked together, you and Zhongli strolled over the lively bustling city, browsing over the stands and products of merchants and customers.

Before, the two of you were having breakfast in your own adeptal abode, taking in the scenery of the simulated sky, the ginkgo trees, and the lush green grass. And considering it was just the two of you alone, away from prying eyes, Zhongli guided you to sit on his lap, taking the one seat with a table of some Liyue dishes.

He had a habit of holding you close in private. Which came with the territory of having a relationship during a dominating war between gods. In all the tragedies and conflicts that passed for such long lifespans for both of you, holding each other was grounding, comforting, and reassuring.

“I wonder if the people will continue to celebrate our anniversary now that we’re gone.” you mused, fiddling with your marriage rings on your finger as your arms are between your husband’s from holding it. Sparkling starry eyes admiring some of the city’s traditional decor displaying the dragon and the fenghuang. The nation’s symbol of harmony.

“Lapis Lux is one of Liyue’s biggest festivals that predates even Lantern Rite. The celebration of the longest lasting love between us and inspiration for the people.” replied Zhongli, resting his bigger hand on top of your smaller one, where your glittering rings were worn. “With such a large influence to known to the other nations of Teyvat as well, such a holiday could never be dismissed.”

“Hm, that’s true.” you lean your head against his arm warmly.

Zhongli gives a chaste kiss to your temple, his own gaze drifting to the dragon and fenghuang symbols. He could tire of seeing them. “How does flying together sound after dinner, my Qingxin? Once I’ve settled my errands for today. We haven’t done that for some time.”

You perk up at that, flying together was always an activity you two loved doing since the beginning of your relationship. And while flying out in the open wasn’t option anymore after stepping down from godhood, you still had room to privately fly in your own sub-space home.

“Yes.” you smile. “I’ve missed those recently. We’ve both been a little busy. Speaking of…” you trail off, curious. “How goes the funeral planning? I’m sure you’ve been having a fun time, darling.”

It was ironically humorous and perhaps morbid to have the deceased be the one to plan their own funeral ceremony after all.

Zhongli’s amber eyes gleam with a hint of amusement and seriousness. “It’s been going smoothly. The Traveler has been a kind aid.”

The brunette had informed you of his own meeting with the Traveler and his floating companion as you talked about your latest visit to Mondstadt. Soon, it would be time to meet the Traveler again at Third-Round Knockout after previously settling things at Bubu Pharmacy.

You both did separate for a time for Zhongli to plan the Rite of Parting as part of his own occupation and duty.

“Well, it couldn’t have been easy for him. The Archon he had planned to meet next ended up dead before him the second he arrived.” you mused.

“Yes, while I do feel it unfortunate for him, the time for our departure from our posts had no better timing than now.” he replied. “After all, how dare the Geo Archon perish and leave his wife a widow? It goes against the very vows of their union. The most sacred of all of Rex Lapis’ contracts is with Regina Lux.”

Zhongli gazes at you with humour evident on his face. A teasing smile on his lips. “The whole of Teyvat may smite my spirit for such grievance.”

You gave a small laugh, “Of course, how could he?”

The performance of making both of your deaths in front of a crowd believable was a… unique experience. It went without saying that when Zhongli decided to retire his Archon role, he couldn’t leave you behind, especially to deal with the aftermath of the people’s attention on you because of it.

The Rite of Descension came with Rex Lapis descending upon his people for his divine predictions, while Regina Lux accompanied him with divine counsel for Liyue’s governing structure and measuring of time, seasons. Both greatly respected by their people for their eye for strategy.

And as your husband said, you both made a vow to be at each other’s sides no matter the unexpected circumstances. As the ultimate contract between you, in a mix of desire and responsibility.

“Hey, look!” Paimon says as she and Aether stopped on one of their walks in Liyue Harbor to meet with Zhongli when they spotted you together. “It’s (Y/N)! We only ran into her once in Liyue. And she’s with… Zhongli? Is Paimon seeing what you’re seeing..?” she blinked in confusion and surprise.

Aether gave a similar expression before calmly thinking aloud, “To be so close to each other like that.. Does that mean the spouses they mentioned to us before was each other all along..?”

“Let’s go ask! Paimon wants to know!” she urged with curiosity.

Hearing a familiar voice call out to you both, you turn to be greeted by the Traveler and his floating travel guide.

“Oh, hello Traveler, Paimon.” you casually greet with an easy smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

You first met the traveling pair at the Adventurers’ Guild back in Mondstadt. Recognized as a famous adventurer across the seven nations, your job naturally consisted of going to different places. The three of you made friendly conversation and good terms.

On your last day in the city, you spoke to the pair in meeting again in Liyue. You did run into them as you said when they came for the Rite of Descension, but hadn’t seen them afterwards until now.

Paimon only made a gawking face as she darted eyes between you and Zhongli. Mind still processing.

“Hi, (Y/N). We were about to meet up with Zhongli at Third-Round Knockout.” the blond reciprocated casually, unlike his pixie guide. Aether eyed the wedding rings on both of your left hands intriguingly. It very much complimented each other. Even the designs of your outfits bore similarities side by side, yet individually different; like your color palettes.

“That’s right, it was about that time.” Zhongli responds, hand on his chin.

“Wait-wait-wait! Hold on a second!” Paimon exclaimed with a wave of her arms. “The two of you are married to each other?!”

Your husband was unfazed as he answered her. “Why, yes. We’ve been married for a very long time now.”

Paimon seemed to finally calm down after the surprising fact. “When you guys were talking about being married, we didn’t think it was between each other!” she scratches her head. “And to think that we already met you both without realizing… Talk about a coincidence..”

You and Zhongli look at each other before lightly chuckling.

“Yes, that’s true.” you agreed. “It wasn’t meant to be a secret or anything. But it is a funny correlation.”

You smiled at them, “I also appreciate you helping my husband for the Rite of Descension. It’s a big task to handle alone, especially now.”

“Oh, we don’t mind.” she shakes her head. “It works out for all of us.” she then mumbles to herself, “Guess we know who does the finance in this marriage...”

“Paimon.” Aether lightly scolds.

Paimon immediately tries to correct her words, apologizing for running her mouth like that.

You only chuckle a little at her, Zhongli wasn’t offended and merely brushes it off, “In any case, since we’ve run into each other, why don’t we head to Third-Round Knockout now?”

You then let go of your husband’s arm, much to both of your reluctance. “That’s my cue then. I should be taking my leave anyhow. I have something to discuss with the Branch Master at the Adventurer’s Guild.”

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt you.” apologized Aether, sheepish.

“It’s no problem.” you dismiss, unperturbed.

“I will see you in the evening, then, my dear.” Zhongli kisses your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Mhm, see you.” you hum softly, squeezing his own hand before walking off, the long hem of the back of your Liyuen dress fluttering behind you.

Staring off after you for a moment, the ex-Archon turns his attention to the traveling pair; who tried to adjust to this sudden smitten side of him. “Let’s go then, shall we?”

Standing beside each other hand in hand again, you and Zhongli both watched down at the harbor as Osial, an old foe, rose from the waters, letting out a fierce roar echoing in the skies.

The Jade Chamber flew to the serpent god as adepti and the mortals gathered

together to stop him. Along with the Traveler’s aid.

“Now the real test begins…” you mutter, grasping Zhongli’s hand firmly.

“So it has…” he quietly replies. He then turns to you, “Although I’m confident in Liyue’s own strength, whatever happens from here on out, I’m happy to have experienced this mortal life with you.”

You smile at him lovingly, “For me, too. No matter what, I’m with you to the end.”

Zhongli brings you to his side, wrapping an arm around your back as you both observed the fight unfold.

When Osial was defeated and sealed away once again, proving Liyue’s independent perseverance. You and Zhongli were able to fully let go of your godly lives to mortal ones.

And when Zhongli went alone to Northland Bank to keep his end of the contract with the Tsaritsa for his Gnosis, Aether and Paimon had to adjust to the other surprising fact about your identity once realizing who Zhongli really was.

If Morax was said to truly be devoted to his wife, then there was no conceivable way he’d be with another. There wouldn’t be anyone else more committed to the contract of marriage than the god of contracts himself with the god of light, Alloces.

How, as the two gods fell from the sky to their end, their bodies twisted around each other in an interlocking embrace. Where the Lord of Geo held his beloved protectively even after their vessels were deprived of their divine souls.

You recalled when speaking with Cloud Retainer from a recent visit how Paimon had vocally mistaken you for a phoenix. With your adeptus form being a bigger bird from Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper’s, your bird form lightly glowed with the colour of gold and sunlight, end feathers shimmering like gold mist, some of your multicoloured hair streaks as feathers of red, blue, and green.

The female crane adeptus made a huff of disapproval at the mixup, wondering how many others outside Liyue would always make the misconception and ignorance of the spouse of the only married Archon, the only other god to rule Liyue alongside Rex Lapis being a phoenix. It humoured and intrigued you of this myth some people mistakenly believed.

While it was appreciable to see an old friend and attendant be of defence in your honour, there was amusement in seeing Cloud Retainer’s reaction to it.

There was also the small irony that you carried a fake Pyro Vision on you to blend in. You didn’t actually have the same compatibility to it like your husband, the master of his element, but your power and magic abilities could make them appear pyro.

Zhongli had suggested you could try Geo, but you thought it interesting to be of a different element from him.

“One would think after so many years has passed, the mortals would come to understand the keen difference between a phoenix and a fenghuang.” she says with disappointment. “Especially to the being who taught them the teachings and ways of the stars and light, who brought prosperity and counseling of Rex Lapis’s ascension as one of The Seven. Including the perfect example of marital union! Honestly, the ignorance..!”

“It’s all right, Cloud Retainer.” you assured. “They don’t mean harm or malice by it.”

“While that is true, your leniency is what truly comes out most, Regina Lux.” she responds.

“Well, it wasn’t something I had to worry about. And it’s not a common misunderstanding.” you take a sip of the teacup presented to you. “In any case, with the Qixing, Liyue may turn out just fine.”

Cloud Retainer shifts her gaze to the sky, still begrudging. “If it by your words, may your judgment be sound, Regina Lux.”

“You are not from this land.” A deep male voice spoke a few feet away from you.

Calmly turning your head, you look to see a man who was clearly not mortal. You immediately knew who he was, his reputation and appearance easily recognizable. A white hood over his head, gold rune patterns decorating his arms that traced as veins to gold coloured hands, dressed in interesting garments. In your observation, it glowed and symbolized power.

You meet his golden gaze with your starry ones. “No, I am not. Merely here to view the scenery in front of me.”

He tilts his head a little, gold eyes intense as he searches for anything to be wary of, the eyes of a beast. “Is passing through another deity’s territory common for you?”

“By harmless means, I bear no motive but to cross the lands soundly.”

The deity stares at you contemplatively, tone mildly rumbling and brutish. “Hm, you should exercise more caution next time, a god’s reaction is unpredictable with unfamiliar faces of another.”

“Fair enough.” You stand from your seat from the view of the sky and mountains. “Shall I not disturb you any longer, Lord of Geo? I am not ignorant of your strength.”

His eyes turned half-lidded as he took in the likeness of the night in your irises, “You are aware of me as I am of you, Lady of Light. A being untethered of followers, roaming over the lands. But never claiming, your presence doesn’t deter me.”

“Then I may continue watching the landscape from here?”

“I—”

“As I thought, you were here, beloved.” Zhongli’s voice calmly spoke from behind you.

Turning your head, you looked back to see your husband making his way towards with a sweet smile on his lips.

The hand that was playing with the rectangular diamond shaped Cor Lapis gem hung on the bottom front of your elegantly designed chocker now rested on your lap. The Qingxins around you lightly glowing white from its petals under the moon, blooming in full.

“Hehe, you know me so well.” you say in light amusement, looking fondly at him as he comes to sit beside you.

You both occasionally went to a cliff to gaze down at Liyue Harbor, like spectators of an artwork. Watching from afar to the pleasant view of the busy and prosperous city. Sightseeing from far away to look at how far Liyue had come to be what it is. How both of your guidances and co-rulership led to this nation of prosperity.

“Came to join me, did you?” you tilt your head playfully.

“Naturally so,” he wrapped an arm around you to rest on his side, moving the other to grasp the hand on your lap. “I was deprived of your touch.”

You smile, feeling serene and content as you snuggled into him more, head resting under his chin. “Better now?”

Zhongli hums, “Very much so, but don’t think I’ll be letting go now, dearest.”

A small laugh escapes you, “Oh, I know.”

Taking some moments of silence, the both of you watched Liyue. How the city lights glowed in the night sky, the peaceful atmosphere around you, it was everything you had hoped it would all be.

Taking a breath to sigh, you’re mildly surprised to feel the familiar trace of Zhongli’s hand brushing your cheek before you noticed him tucking a Qingxin flower into your hair, breezing pass one of your dangling noctilucous jade earrings.

While Glaze Lilies were known to be a national flower of Liyue, for its appeasement to song and moon, regional from the land, you always had an affinity with Qungxins among the nation’s flora. While Glaze Lilies could be resided in fields where domestic ones were gardened by people, you found interest in Qingxins locating on cliffs and mountain tops. Like they were trying to reach the sky and view the land below.

Though you found numerous flowers across the seven nations to be just as wondrous. As someone who used to travel place to place without your own territory, your journeying spirit never left. After settling down from your marriage with Morax for the past thousands of years, becoming an adventurer as a mortal brought back this old side of you. But nothing beats the domesticity of marriage with your husband and the land you looked after together.

“You are radiant, baobei…” the ex-Archon gently spoke, lightly touching the intricate hairpin attached to your half-up bun. With the design of your fenghuang form on the back of the fabric of your slit skirt, with hints of his dragon-qilin adeptus form as well. It laid the hidden meaning of your identity and claim to your husband. Details intimate and hidden for both of you.

Credit to Menogias’ keen eye and sense of fashion. Who foound a hobby in coordinating your outfits together.

It only made this god of old before you pleased and content at the sight. Including the chocker necklace you always wore. With gold and silver accents and a rhombus shaped Cor Lapis gem dangling. Matching the rhombus pin on his tie and your ring. Hiding the faint traces of an inhuman bite and the Geo symbol imprinted on the back of your neck, along with another on your navel and an actual tattoo of his adeptus form. The dragon side of Zhongli always carrying a possessive and marking trait, but never against your own will. That also included having your fenghuang form tattooed on him underneath all his layers.

The tattoos themselves invisible to the naked eye unless revealed or with great elemental perception.

Gold amber eyes twinkling with warmth and love as he gazed at you, always able to melt and flutter his stone heart. “Throughout all these years together, I couldn’t have asked for anyone else to be by my side all these years.”

You smile adoringly at him as you press your body as close as physically possible against his, “I love you so much you know..”

Your husband strengthens his hold on you as his other hand sweetly rubs the exposed thigh from one of the slits of your dress and away from your thigh high boot.

“I always know, my sweet mate.” Zhongli leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “And I love you, much more than you are already aware.”

You smile very softly content over your husband’s shoulder. He then pulls you onto his lap sideways, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You are the most precious treasure to me in all of Teyvat.” With both half-lidded eyes, he gazes upon your irises, that move and change like a reflection of the night.

“And I will never stop reminding you that I am yours for eternity, my wife, my love, my treasure. I dedicate my life, soul and heart to you, and only you.” he then pulls you onto his lap, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Even when, one day, we reach the end of our time, we’ll be together.”

You lean against him as you both look upon the city and the landscapes you’ve watched over for centuries.

“To this mortal life of ours now.”

Zhongli smiles softly, “Yes, to this mortal life we have.”

[dark-and-kawaii]

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ — Summary: Gojo Satoru fucks you at a punishing pace deep within the public restrooms. You poor thing~ ♡

Gojo knew how to bully that sweet body of yours, knew how to make your eyes roll back as you begged for him to slow down. He had you in such a mean mating press, your legs swung over his shoulders, dangling helplessly in the air. Your body folded as he pressed his muscular frame against yours, roughly fucking his fat cock into that tight little cunny of yours, stretching you out so beautifully.

“S’too~, Satoooru~ f’wlease~...Mn’hurts~ Slo’w d-dooown!!~”

But your body was so honest, your face giving you away as you made the sluttiest moans while looking at him- your tongue lolling from the side of your mouth. You were drooling all over yourself, you poor thing…

The sorcerer smirked, his hand tangling in your hair tighter, making your scalp ache before slamming his hips forward… His other hand going for your throat as his pace grew more brutal, more savage. The way he was using you was nothing short of animalistic- fucking you as if you were nothing more than a mere glory hole, his cock reaching all the way into your womb as his heavy balls slapped against your ass.

“Y’er body has gotten quite honest, hasn’t it? Begging me to slow down while that cute pussy tries and milks me for all I am worth… I can feel ya tightening around me, you know?” He gives a light chuckle, “Y’er strangling my cock so nicely, Princess.” he gives a grunt, hips jerking up into your fluttering cunt, “and making such a mess- squirting everywhere like the little slut you are for me.”

“Ny-noooo, S-sayoruu~ m-my puss-ssy cannn-nnnt, c-cannnn~t take anym-mooorre~, pleeease!!~” you sobbed as tears fell down your rosy cheeks.

As his thick cock split you open further, churning up your insides while rearranging your guts, his winter like eyes darkened, “Ya can and ya will, because I said so. Because I know ya can handle it, baby girl~ so don't lie to me, hm? Not when your body is already screaming how much it loves this.”

Your fingernails bit into his arms, “Toooru~, mn’ ph’wease- pleaseeee~!!! M-my tummy- i-it feels like yet turning my insides sh’out-~! S’too deep~!!!”

You were shaking your head side to side, begging and pleading him with all your might but your deliciously stupid pussy was practically devouring his cock.

How adorable you looked.

Gojo knew, oh he knew well that you were getting off on being used, getting off on being put in your place, getting off on his words alone. Getting off to him filling your abused pussy repeatedly deep within this public restroom. The sound of your lewd body being clapped echoing off the stall walls, knowing full well anyone in the near vicinity could hear how you fell apart on his cock.

You loved this. Loved his cock. Loved being here for his pleasure~ Loved crying out for him as he spilled himself into you? His hot cum flooding your insides- painting your insides the prettiest of white as you made a mess everywhere with your womanly juices~

And he just adored watching his cum spill from your gapping cunt. How his very own seed made a mess between your thighs, trickling onto the public floor for some poor soul to stumble upon.

He smirked, “What a naughty girl you are, making a mess in public like this~.”

You were too fucked out, too exhausted, to do much of anything as you laid there limply. All you could do was give a tired, pitiful moan as his large hands spread your legs wider, exposing that used up pussy of yours even more.

You were going to make him hard all over again. Seeing you so fuckrf out, seeing the mess you made because of him…

Leaning in closer, whispering huskily into your ear, “I don’t think we’re finished here yet-“ he licked your ear, making you whine pathetically, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your inner thighs.

His cock was already twitching to life again, ready for round two.

Oh and what a fun, pleasurable round two it was going to be~

[ch4nb4ng]

Expect the Unexpected

Pairing: Han Jisung X afab!reader

Word count: 9.7k

Genre: Childhood friends to lovers (stoned college edition

Warnings: 18+ explicit minors do not interact. Substance use, sexual acts under the influence of substance use, Kissing, naked bodies, mentions of genitals, fingering, handjob, orgasm, mentions of semen

Tag list: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree

@kpopsstuffs

Note: HEY guys, its been a while, and like actually a while this time.... Had this sitting in the draft for almost a year. Life has very much gotten in the way but i am back hopefully, with the aim of engaging in writing when I feel like and no pressuring myself. Anyways, it's nice to be back and I hope you enjoy.

Summary: There was a blizzard, resulting in your college dorm being blocked from all human interaction. Things are about to, however change when your childhood best friend, and wall neighbour comes over and has other things in mind to pass the time with weed included as one of them.

The first time living away from your family and by yourself was an experience that you very much valued. No curfews, no worrying about what your parents were going to say when you’ve had several drinks at a party, and definitely no nagging to make your bed everyday. Make no mistake, you loved your parents and siblings a lot, it was just nice sometimes to have the complete privacy that was your dorm room every now and then. 

There were moments that you did become homesick. On the contrary to having your own private, personal space, especially during the trying moments of completing long winded assignments, studying for exams, or even just having the feeling of familiarity when you hugged somebody that was your blood. There were always pros and cons to living an independent college life. At this current moment in time, you were experiencing one of the more annoying parts of living in a college building. 

Deep into the winter seasons of the year, while also living in a state that was known for having extreme weather patterns during this time of the year was your least favorite part. Once the news alerted ‘warning, blizzard storm approaching in the next 48 hours,’ you knew that the college would be sending an official email, urging students to stay in the dorms, and barricade all exits.

This was where you were currently at.

Lying in your bed, phone up to your face as you reassured your family through facetime that you were fine and had no plans of leaving anytime soon.

“You guys know the drill,” you smiled, “I’m fine, two days in and I am alive and well, just a little bored.”

“Okay well don’t forget that Jisung’s mother and I got those rooms next to each other so you guys always have a little bit of company.”

“Yes mom I know,” you laughed, “I might text him later. He had an assignment due this afternoon and I don’t want to bother him.”

“Okay love, we will talk to you later.”

“Love you too, bye.”

The sound representing the end of the call rang through the speaker of your phone. The object fell on your chest as you let out a loud sigh, your boredom growing with each second. 

Jisung. Han Jisung was someone that could be labeled as many different things to you. Friend, confidant, best friend, study buddy; home. Jisung was the jack of all trades in your book. 

Knowing each other since the two of you were 10, meeting at a weekend competition of playing mixed teams basketball bloomed into a relationship you didn't know was even possible to have with a man. Jisung was the friend that kind of just stuck, even planning to go to the same college as you. It was a packaged deal, you and him, but it made you laugh, because the two of you could not be more of the opposite. Jisung was the shyer type. Although you met through sporting engagements, that was more something that his parents put him into to see what he liked. He was very intelligent, a strong preference to have his head in the books rather than going out to a new party every weekend. Make no mistake, Jisung was a very polite individual, always talking to those that gave the time. However, he was much more comfortable with people that he knew. In contrast, you were a social butterfly, able to make friends every corner you turned. Parties and drinking every weekend; anywhere but the was where the majority of your time was spent. 

Therefore, when all the buildings on campus were closed, it drove you crazy. There was nothing that could be hated more than being forced to stay inside in your eyes. The confinement always made you reconsider why it was here, in this state, that you chose to attend college. But it was when you heard a knock on the door that you were reminded why. Leg flopping out of your bed sheets, they dragged you to the door, your body sprinkled in warmth when you opened it to your kind looking friend who happened to be smiling back. Your body turned to the side, hand out as he strolled into your apartment, plopping down on the couch like it was his own. You quickly followed, taking the spot next to him as you turned to face him.

“Are you bored yet?”

“Of course I am,” you sigh, walking in front of Jisung as you walk into the living room of your apartment and sitting on the couch, head in your hands, leaning forward so much that you could almost fall off the couch “as if it took you this long to realise.”

“Y/n, the email was only sent out 4 hours ago.”

“Yeah but there was supposed to be a party tonight at Changbin’s frat,” you whined, lips fully pouted, “I really wanted to go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, placing his hands behind his head, legs kicked out on the small table in front of him, “it’s a real shame that the party is canceled.”

Your best friend managed to avoid eye contact, voice dripping with sarcasm. To be truthful, you knew that even though he would go with you, to make sure you're safe of course, and DEFINITELY for that reason only, Jisung would never choose to willingly go to such a party. It wasn’t that he was a complete prude little innocent boy, no. There had been a multitude of times where you could hear him, or the other girls that failed to stay quiet and not echo through the paper thin dorm walls. Jisung just simply wasn’t the type to go out to parties, especially when everyone there was a slobbering mess on one substance or another, especially you. There was a feeling that if you were merely a stranger to him, Jisung would most likely, outside of classes, be a ghost. A myth that supposedly walks down the hallways of your college. Seeing as the two of you were opposite in that regard, you tried to respect Jisung as much as possible. Not bringing your bong, joints, or excessive amounts of alcohol whenever he came over, because you knew if the shoe was on the other foot, he would also do the same. Jisung only had the occasional puff anyway, much less than you, so the need to have it around constantly felt unnecessary.

“Try not to ooze with excitement,” you raised your eyebrows, a fake smile plastering across your lips as you failed to see his attitude change. Good old Jisung for you.

“I’ll try my best.”

“Anyway,” you replied, leaning forward and grabbing the TV remote, pressing the small red power button in the top right corner, watching the plasma screen light up with the logo belonging to Netflix. You turn again to the man beside you, a warmth feeling in your chest at how placid he looked, patiently waiting for you to put something on.

“Is there anything you would like to watch for the next 12 hours?”

Yes, 12 hours. That was you being optimistic that this storm would be quick.

“Hmm,” Jisung hummed, bringing his index finger and thumb to his chin, thinking about what to watch, “there isn’t anything I’ve been keeping up with.”

“Ah I see. Shall we just scroll until we find something we like?”

“Sounds like a great idea.”

Clicking on your profile, the first row of TV shows were ‘Watch it again,’ followed by ‘Top hits for Y/n.’ Nothing really caught your eye, or his seeing as he would say something if he did. It wasn’t until your ‘continue watching for y/n’ that you gasped, loud. The word ‘Bridgerton’ has popped up in continuing. At first you were confused. Although you were an avid lover of that show, you had not watched it recently. It wasn’t until you selected it that you realized a new season had come out. Jisung remained puzzled, seeing as this was not something he had a remote interest in watching. 

“Oh my god Jisung can we-”

“No man,” he complained, “you know this is the last thing I would want to watch.”

“Please,” you begged, placing your hands in the form of a prayer, remote still in hand, “it’s so good I beg of you please to just consider. I’ll do anything.”

“Ugh fine,” he hissed, “but I cannot be 100% sober for this shit.”

Your eyebrow furrowed, displaying a look of confusion. This was the thing you would expect someone like Jisung to say.

“Hmm ok,” you hummed, still slightly confused, “I’ll get my stash of vodka.”

“Hmmm no,” he shrugged, a slightly suggestive glimmer on his face, “something that will be long-lasting, if you’re catching my drift.” 

Jisung raised his eyebrows repeatedly, leaving your mind to imply one substance only. Weed.

“You want to smoke, really?”

“Yes y/n, I want to smoke weed, is that ok with you?”

“Of course it is,” you reassured, “you know that if you were here or not I would probably do it anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Done.”

“Okay, and we have to watch from the beginning or I will go back to my room.”

“Yes yes okay fine,” you leaned over, pressing a grateful kiss on his cheek, “you’re the best. I’ll get my stash now.”

You scurried off to your room, quickly, opening the small draw on your side table next to your bed. Your stash, the prized possession that was the calm before the storm. Smoking in your downtime was something that you very much looked forward to, especially if you were unnecessarily stressed out. Your face lit up and the clouds of dark green hue clouded the plastic bag that was in your sight, fingers grasping the edge as you wiggled back to your original spot. Although you agreed, it was strange of your friend to want to just smoke out of boredom. The only time you had seen him do it was at small gatherings, and even then, it was one puff and done, usually followed by heavy chest hitting coughs. It always made you laugh. It also made you feel bad, knowing that if he didn’t hang around with you, he probably wouldn’t do these kinds of things. Jisung was an adult who could make his own decisions, but there was always part of you that thought about him, his family; would they approve of him doing this? It was a lot to think about sometimes. 

It was Jisung’s turn to hold the remote, flicking back to season 1 episode 1, before scooching closer to you. Jisung was keen to get in on the action, something you were definitely not used to. He went to reach for the paper, but you grabbed him by the wrist, making him pause for a moment.

“Jisung, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” he smiled, unsure why you were asking such a question, “it’s not the first time I’ve done it y/n, relax.”

“Yeah I know,” you shrugged, “it’s just, I’ve only seen you smoke once, and you looked like you were about to cough up your lungs.”

“Oh,” he sighed, looking away in embarrassment, “you saw that?”

“Unfortunately, I did.”

“Yeah well I can do it,” he barked, somewhat getting defensive, pointing at the TV to deflect from his deficits “you’re making me watch this shit.”

“Okay okay,” you whined, letting go of his wrist, “but please let me show you how to roll and smoke a joint properly so you don’t actually hurt yourself.”

The two of you giggled simultaneously, resulting in Jisung reluctantly nodding in agreement. He watched closely as he watched you open both bags, paper on the right, weed on the left.

“Okay so,” you began to speak, “firstly,” you paused again, using your index and middle finger on your right hand to slide into the plastic, “I like to slide my fingers in like this, touching the least amount of paper possible.” 

Jisung pushed his lenses right up to his face, making sure his concentration was avid; missing a step was not an option for him. Once the sheet was out of paper, you placed it on top of the plastic. You like to take pride in your work, especially being a part time stoner, of your supplies. Seeing as it cost you a significant amount, it felt wrong to not get the best out of your product. 

“Then,” you continued, “you get the bag with the goods, and I like to,” pausing again, opening the bag and grabbing one cluster, “just crush it in my fingers as small as I can, and sprinkle it in a line across the center.”

He nodded again, observing how smooth your fingers were, fingertips sprinkling green across the white square placed in the table.

“Are you following?”

“Of course,” he nodded, furrowing his eyebrows to show his concentration. Jisung swallowed a nervous gulp, remembering that he really had no idea what he was going to do when he coughed his lungs up one more time. Yes, he was concentrating on how you did it, but he couldn’t help it. His cognitions were descending into the gutter, especially watching the two fingers he tended to use when he was in lewd acts himself. It made him nervous. 

Sure, there were intrusive thoughts about you being a part of his fantasies and desires, but Jisung knew better than to act on something that came from pure lust. Instead, pressing his lips together, attempting to stifle the giggle that threatened to erupt from his lips. You, however, were too smart to not notice him suppressing his laughter. Your elbow nudged his side, a sheepish gaze as you began to question him.

“What’s so funny?”

“What,” he questioned, puffing his cheeks and shaking his head, patting your arm, “keep going.”

You decided to shrug it off, not letting his immaturity obstruct you from your prized possession. Next was the rolling. Lifting the paper with the utmost precaution, the material was brought to your lips, tongue sticking out as your lips lay a thin layer of saliva to coat the edge of the paper.

“See what I did with my tongue?”

‘Oh god,’ was all Jisung could think, mind once again heading straight to the gutter. All he could think about was what your tongue, if it was positioned under a different appendage, how different it could be. His testosterone was raging, but once again, he knew better. To Jisung, nothing could be worse than putting his own selfish wants ahead of your friendship. However, the longer he stared at you practically making out with the joint, licking it up and down, side to side, making sure the two ends stuck together, the harder it became to push his thoughts away from such dirty crevices of his mind. The torture was over for him once you withdrew the now complete joint from your lips. You were satisfied with how it turned out, a smile of approval, and a hint of arrogance plastered on your face.

“And that’s how you do it. Now your turn.”

“Ok,” he sighed, “swap spots with me so I can do it.”

“Yes sir,” you mumbled, playfully rolling your eyes you obeyed, allowing your best friend to now sit in front of the two bags. He followed your steps with ease, using great precision with his fingers to eject the weed and paper from each plastic container. He was natural. Only the two fingers, being the same ones you, strategically rolling the two digits back and forth. He was swift, nimble, adjectives you normally liked to use when you felt the touch of a man. It was your turn to swallow nervously, a small pit of arousal brewing in your lower abdomen as the small pelts of green substance dissipated across the center of the paper, just like you did. Holy shit, how could something as simple as rolling a joint be so attractive? Jisung brought a hand to his hair, running it quickly through the brown mop to get it out of his face, aiming to let no obstacles get in his way. He gave you one look, a gaze of concern when he noticed your eyes glued to his hands. 

“You okay?”

Your eyes shot straight to his, attempting to not be mesmerized by the joyful expression covering his features. Fuck, why was his smile having such an impact on you right now? He chuckled, assuming that you were just playing around, but in reality, you were definitely distracted by the attractiveness of your friend with a sudden fresh washed mop of brown hair, glasses, and shining complexion of the side of his face as the light from the window cascaded across the high points of his cheeks. You faked a smile, nodding as you egged him on to continue. Panic began to settle in however when you saw the bare tip of his tongue coating the corner of the white material. Holy shit, he really was a natural. Licking the edge right across in one swift motion, not using too much saliva, yet still using enough. It was almost offensive how much better his joint looked compared to yours. But that was just what Jisung was: a perfectionist with little effort in trying to attain said perfection. He didn’t stray too much out of the norm, yet when he did try something, he was always good at it from the first try. Sometimes it made you wonder what other things he would be good at. But that was for another time, with a similar mindset in the fact that a brief thought of sexual fantasy was not worth more than your friendship. Especially if he didn't reciprocate, the awkwardness after would be something you most definitely could not handle.

“Woah,” you gasped, grasping the joint out of his hand, intensely observing it from each angle, “I knew you would be good at this.”

Your best friend beamed at your approval, eagerly waiting for the next step. 

“Oh my lighter, I’ll go grab it now.”

You forgot before, but this gave you time to completely subtract those devil filled thoughts of Jisung by not looking at him for a brief moment. It worked, because as soon as you opened the drawer and saw your lighter, all you could focus on was lighting that shit up. 

Coming back to the living room once more, you placed the fire breathing object on the table, offering Jisung to go first. He looked hesitant, unsure how or where he should start. It was adorable when Jisung was like this, because he was clueless not very often. You decided to pick it back up, pressing the flicker down once to ignite the flame.

“Do you want to go first, or would you like me to go first?”

“Uhm,” he hummed, “I think you should go first, you know, show me how to do this shit properly.”

“Okay,” you chuckled, letting go of the flicker on the lighter, handing it over to him, “well I usually don’t light my own joints so would you do me the honors?”

“Of course,” he purred, the smoothness of his tone delivering a sudden pulse to your core. You leant forward, completely forgetting that your clothing was completely revealing by all means. The looseness of your long sleeve white shirt was telling, the action of leaning forward exposing the subtlety of your cleavage. You could see Jisung’s eyes travel straight to them, but only for a brief moment. He was trying to be as respectful as he could, but it was impossible when your chest was right there. His thumb dragged with ease, flame luminous as he brought the orange tipped flame to the edge of your joint. The tip turned dark immediately, and the taste of the herb came with that. The sensation was immediate, as you grabbed the joint with two fingers, pulling the object away from your lips and letting the warmth of the smoke spilling, down your chest,  and back up again, eyes fluttering shut as you puffed the smoke from your lips, the feeling of nostalgia hitting you.

Jisung watched you in awe, amazed at how easily smoking came to you. He wanted to try so bad. He wanted to prove to you that he could do something that you did not expect of him. But he was patient, waiting for you to open your eyes before he started. 

“Mmmm,” you hummed in pure bliss, lifting your eyelids slightly, “that is some good shit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yessss,” you hissed, grabbing onto his hands holding the lighter, sliding it out of his hand “your turn. Place the joint between your lips and lean forward.”

Jisung did as he was told, adjusting his positioning to being abnormally close to you. You didn’t pay much mind, the small flame igniting once again, but you paused, almost forgetting that he in fact did now know what he was doing.

“Ok so once I light this,” you paused, using your free hand to squeeze his jaw, “are you listening?”

His eyes widened at your sudden touch, a small nod which was obstructed by your somewhat firm grasp.

“Ok so once I light this, take a small breath in, hold for a second, and blow it out.”

“Yes maam,” he smiled, looking deep into your eyes before you passed him the bud, waiting for him to grasp it between his two fingers. When he does, still keeping his eyes on you, simultaneously feeling your brain drop slightly at how intense his gaze was in this very moment, lips forming into the shape of an o as the paper came to his lips, taking the smallest puff, and blowing it out. You were impressed, seeing this was the first time he smoked anything without coughing his lungs out. A smile came to your lips, proud of your best friend in the moment.

“Woah,” he sighed, finally breaking his stare, eyes changing towards the blunt. His chest descended as he took another puff, turning back to face the tv as his back gently slid into the couch. 

“How was that?”

“Is it crazy that I already feel more relaxed than before?”

His response made you giggle, glad he was enjoying himself. 

“I told you,” sighing as you snatched the blunt from his grip, taking a long drag, “I only smoke the high quality stuff.”

“Sure do,” he growled, sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. Jisung grabbed the remote, pressing play on the TV, greeted by a girl in a royal style gown. He forgot that it was Bridgerton that got him here in this predicament. 

***

It did not take much for the two of you to feel the consequences of smoking. One thing you hated to admit was that you craved the presence of someone next to you when under the influence. But not just like in your orbit no. Like needing a lack of personal space. To be suffocated. Which is why the two of you were sitting the way you were now. Your legs atop of his own, head buried into his chest, with your arms wrapped around his torso. 

The intrusive thoughts always won when you were high, which is how your fingertips came to be not just on your best friend, but under his shirt, skin to skin contact. You couldn’t deny that the texture of his defined build, muscles budding at each ridge was hard to miss. 

Bridgerton had been playing, but if anything, at this point, it had become background noise, the main noise becoming the tension that thickened between the two of you with each passing minute. Although the relationship was close,the idea of  intimacy was never something that had come up as a thought. Sober you, and sober him, would never do such a thing. Feeling that maybe it would cross a boundary. 

But the usual thought did not cross your mind. Or his for that matter, Jisung’s digits generously spread across the outside of your thigh, dangerously close to your behind. It felt nice, honestly. Yes, you had your fair share of one night stands. Male attention followed you, easily, whether you were looking for it or not. With that being said, however, it had been a while since you remembered what a real man's touch felt like. Especially your best friend. Being a biology major, Jisung was consistently practical in the lab, using his hands in the most intricate ways. Whether looking at a small piece of bacteria in a microscope, or dissecting an organ of some sort, he was always using his hands, and boy, was that evident when you felt the texture of his callous palms spreading across the back of your leg. 

The puffing came to a halt, joint burning down halfway to its bud, but it was enough to heighten your senses. The two of you looked at each other, eyelids a little more droopy than usual as the both of you giggled, looking back at the TV. By the time the two of you were actually paying attention to the storyline, Daphne and Simon were getting married.

“So what’s the premises?”

“Premises?” You giggled, finding humor in your best friend’s speaking mishap.

“Yeah like,” he paused, maneuvering your body to be closer to his, leaving now no room on the couch between the two of you, “like what’s the show about.”

“It’s a period romance show based on a series of books.”

“Ohh, I thought you didn't like to read, you fucking nerd.”

“Oi,” you nudged him, completely missing the side of his arm and falling onto his chest, “I don't, that’s why I'm watching the show instead.”

“Right, anyway, go on.”

“Right, so Daphne and Simon basically pretended to be together so this other guy, creepy as fuck, wouldn’t have to marry her. But then they realized they developed feelings for each other but are both inendial about it so they're discussing the topic on their wedding day and just going through with it because it was too late for them to change their mind.” If either of you did not see the irony in this situation.

“That literally made no fucking sense,” Jisung sighed, using his free hand to scratch the back of his head, “but to be honest, I really can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”

“Damnnn,” you gasped, leaning up to look at him, “you’re high.”

“Yeah pfft,” Jisung hummed, keeping his glazed eyes focused on you, “I feel like I can just say or do anything right now.”

“That’s the beauty of smoking Ji,” you smiled, turning away and facing the screen. It was at this point that married TV couples were in their honeymoon suite. If you were being honest, it was hard to keep up with the dialogue due to the speed and the actual content being in old english. It was much less difficult to follow the visuals, their facial expressions, how they spoke. It was still captivating, watching the two actors get close and closer, right until their lips met. As they continued, the room felt silent yet tense. The two of you watched adamantly as things began to heat up, Simon assisting Daphne in undressing herself. It was then that you felt Jisung adjust himself under your legs, brushing him off of you as he sunk back into the couch. You thought it was strange, but you decided it was better to ignore it, remembering how mesmerizing the scene of Daphne and Simon making love for the first time really was. As they moved to their new bed, Simon hovering over Daphne’s innocent body, a new sensation was forming in your lower abdomen, but it didn't stop there, unmistakably flying right to your core, again. While recalling how mesmerizing this particular scene was, you also forgot how much it aroused you simultaneously. This was a mistake. Being high and horny was not a good combination, especially when Jisung, your best friend, was sitting next to you, previously with his hands on you. It was probably better to disregard these lustful feelings, they surely would pass.

“Oh shit,” Jisung mumbled, grasping for the small decorative pillow next to him, placing it over his crotch area, “this is um, wow, it’s uh-”

“Yeah I kinda forgot,” you replied before facing him, noticing the now pillow covering the beginning of his lower limbs. At first you were confused, eyebrows furrowed at why he would do such a thing. Instead of minding your business, and beating the paranoia of not knowing what he was doing that was amplified after smoking, you were now  holding the pillow, the sounds of Daphne’s moans and groans the only noise that could be heard. As soon as Jisung noticed your grip on the pillow, he resisted you, not wanting you to see what was happening underneath the soft object.

“Jisung,” you laughed nervously, genuinely confused at his behavior, “what are you doing with my pillow.”

“Nothing,” he hushed, attempting to dismiss your question with the tone of his voice floating thin into the air, “keep watching.”

He pointed at the screen, head nodding in the same direction as you let go of the pillow and focused on the TV. But that was the worst mistake you could have made, because it was Simon’s turn to undress, and once he did, it really was game over. The two of them there, completely naked as he began to thrust into his new wife. Simon’s grunts were short, staccato like, while Daphne was more graceful, each moan spilling into her husband's ear as the two of them went at it.

“Fuck this is making me really horny.”

As soon as your best friend said that, he brought his fingers to his lips, leaving your jaw dropped. Did he really just say that, or were you hallucinating?

“Woops,” Jisung mumbled, “the weed is really making me lose my filter. Sorry.”

You should have hated that he blurted that out. Letting the intrusive thoughts win, especially when high, was not a good sign. But it brought the ache that momentarily dulled right back. Looking back at the screen, Jisung now removed the pillow and revealed his full hard on through his thin fabric sweatpants: it was becoming too much. Now suddenly, the only thought that stayed consistent was wanting the same thing on the TV. Right here. Right now. With Jisung. Your best friend.

“Don’t be sorry,” you cooed, moving closer to him, “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t either.”

He said nothing, only gasping in a subtle manner as Jisung looked at you, all of a sudden your features projecting to him as illustrious, appetizing. Jisung wanted nothing more than to devour you in the current moment.

“Is this normal?” 

Jisung’s voice was so nonchalant, tone lacking concern or hesitation at your lack of proximity. It was kind of adorable, really. The normal friend you knew was one to freak out if he ever did something like this. Usually so prim and proper in every setting. In contrast, there was something sexy about the way he was acting. Sure, actions had consequences, but thinking with clarity was not a priority.

“I would say so,” you purred, voice soothing as your fingers crept onto the front of his knee closest to you, “weed makes me horny too.”

“O-oh,” his voice shook, suddenly a little nervous by the prospect of you touching him in a possibly arousing way, “Y/n.”

Jisung’s voice was breathy, chest heaving very slowly as his eyes shot down to your body. Suddenly, your best friend was amazed by every single curve and creativity of your figure. As he brought his hands to your behind, it suddenly felt so soft, hands unforgivingly slipping past the waistband of your shorts, making direct contact with your skin. The contact made you hot, using your free hand to fan yourself. Jisung took the hand of yours that was moving deathly slowly along his inner thigh off of him, body now on his side facing you as he withdrew his hand groping your ass. Instead, he moved it around to the front, but rather than dipping straight into your folds, he slipped in the layer under your outer layer, opting for the space inbetween, digits spreading across your core covered by the miniscule fabric.. It was better this way, he thought. The sensation of touch was much more sensitive under the influence as he wanted to feel every texture of your body that was possible. You giggled at the brush of his gentle touch, a small gasp quickly following up once you realized that his fingers, although not making direct contact, were feeding that arousal felt between your legs. Like scratching an impossible itch. His eyes were already on you when your neck turned, facing him. 

“Shit,” you breathed, “you’re really good at that.”

“I’m barely touching you,” he hissed, lips getting closer to your own. What is happening right now? You should be saying no; rejected his advances. Your best friend. Jisung. The shy, little boy you had known him to be all of his life. But the longer his fingers pushed around that sensitive button of yours, the more your legs spread open for him, hips gently bucking to reach for more surface area of his fingers. His confidence was charming, almost too much so. It made you want more and more, so much so that your internal conflict of stopping and telling him to keep going was disappearing with each lingering moment. Rationality, once a perplexity in your mind disappeared the moment his lips landed on yours. God they were sweet, soft; every texture that you know felt pleasant was coming to your mind the moment they moved against your own. His free hand came to the side of your face that was farthest away, index finger spread across your jaw as he moved his tongue, deeper and deeper, maintaining his dominance over you. Fuck he was a good kisser, a whine erupting from your throat at how flexible his mouth was, bending over backwards to make sure that you were happy with the pace.

“Mhm,” you hummed, pulling away from a brief moment to remove all bottoms, panties included. All your best friend could do was chuckle, deeply, the shade of his eyes turning as dark as you had ever seen when he saw your bare pussy out, for him. His fingers latched on immediately, using the index and middle finger on one hand to spread your lips, the other fingers on the opposite hand barely scratching your clit. The feeling almost made you wriggle out of your seat, mouth agape across Jisung’s cheeks in a sloppy effort to maintain composure of any sort.. Everything was happening so fast. All it took was barely one scene for the two of you to let down your guards. Pretending that your friendship meant nothing. It was never friendship. Jisung would be a ghost to you if the two of you had not been friends since childhood. Maybe there were in fact other reasons that the two of you stayed this way. The moans and groans of the girls he would have over, filling up the bare distance between your room and his, always had an effect on you. It was then when you started to question what he did to those girls to make them feel so good that you were doomed. It was easy to act like a crazy party girl in front of him, knowing that he would never want to be with someone like that, and by doing that, it would push those little feelings right down to where you had the ability to forget them. Avoidance was always key.

But then Jisung would bring you food while you were up doing an assignment, buy you a bouquet of flowers when it was your birthday. Even the way he would talk to your siblings back at home was enough. Jisung was enough and maybe now, by getting these hormonal feelings out, which felt like heaven, was enough to admit that this would not be just a high rendezvous for you, but something real. 

“You’re like really wet,” Jisung hummed, sliding his fingers closer and closer to your whining entrance, “always wondering how you would’ve felt like this.”

“You have?”

“Oh yeahhhh,” Jisung replied, sarcastic, as if it was super obvious, “all the time.”

“Fuck that’s so hot,” you moaned, gripping his wrist, bringing the digits specifically up to your lips for a moment,  taking his DNA into a deep thorating motion The two fingers he was about to use now utterly drenched in your slick before navigating them down your body, circling your entrance before effortlessly plunging them straight into your hole. Jisung could have creamed himself then and there. Due to the sensitivity of his first time being high, he knew that if he was going to fuck you today, he truly would not last long, at all. But instead of ruining the moment that way, he decided to make it all about you. Wanting to view you squirm under him, make his best friend: you feel good. It is something he has been patiently waiting for. Jisung was a giver, and if he wanted to give you a toe curling orgasm on your couch to make you happy, he was going to do so, whatever it took.

As soon as he fingers reached the end of your whole, the two of you moaned in unison, the sound of squelch that was your arousal already an intense volume.

“D-don’t think I’ve been this wet before,” you whined, waiting for Jisung to gently pull them out.

“Really,” he questioned, genuinely baffled, “no one ever made you this wet before? Find that hard to believe.”

Your hips wriggled, desperate to feel the friction of him moving back and forth. However he was so mesmerized by the texture of your velvety walls against his digits, that he used his other hand, coated in your slick, to relieve himself, the encounter resulting in Jisung becoming much too impatient to bother taking his pants off. Your eyes shot straight to the small motion you were witnessing of him moving his hand against his cock. Oh, his length must feel so good like this. Once Jisung began to move his fingers that were inside of you, a string of curse words easily fell from your lips, unable to control anything that came from them. The sensory overload was at peak, and if you were sober, feeling overwhelmed would be an understatement. 

With that being said, you were not, and neither was Jisung. The brooding tip that was his cock gently nudged your inner thigh. As he continued to grow, it had nowhere else to go. The simplest of touches felt like a million times more than when under the influence. But it had to be a culmination of things. Seeing Jisung dominate in something, take control. Fuck. Hearing those girls in his dorm had more of an impact on you than you originally thought. 

Your mind drifted to those memories for a brief moment, the faint moans of the girls, but it suddenly occurred that you never knew what he sounded like. Jisung was a silent fuck? There was no way. 

Your gaze drifted, Jisung immediately noticing and pausing his fingers with immediate concern.

“Y/n?”

Your head turned back faster than your eyes, deep in motion. It was silent, the TV pretty much non-existent as you grabbed him by the jaw, index finger and thumb strong on his mandible as your eyes fixated on his lips.

“How come you never moan when you fuck?”

Jisung panicked at first, a laugh following immediately after, the contagious sound making you laugh too. Your body was limp for a brief moment, falling off of your best friend's lap and next to him on the couch. Jisung ripped his glasses off his head, throwing them onto the table in front of him, allowing him to get a genuine look at how hot and flustered you truly were. Solely because of him.

“What are you talking about,” he giggled, fingertips immediately grabbing the flesh of your thigh, any part of you was good to him, as long as he could get his hands on it, right now.

“How would you know if I’m a silent fuck or not?”

“Because,” you smacked him lightly, letting him remove his hand from your skin “I can hear when you fuck other girls, pfft,” you huffed, lifting your legs in the air to discard your bottoms that were puddled around your ankles, “they’re always so fucking loud man.”

Jisung’s cheeks blushed in the tiniest form. It’s not that he was embarrassed. Okay, maybe part of him was a little embarrassed, completely caught off guard and forgetting that the walls in the dorm were paper thin. Part of him felt guilty that you had to hear that. He began to pout, but immediately dropped his lips when he realized that you were half naked. His fingertip immediately wrapped around each hip, forcing you to sit on his lap and face him. You lifted your hips, eyes signaling down to his pants that were overdue in needing to be removed. Jisung complied immediately, whisking his sweats and boxers off in one motion, causing his hard length to meet with your soaked core, his tip prodding gently at your folds. You bit down on your lip trying as hard as you could to focus on Jisung’s face, rather than focusing on how erect his cock was against you. Jisung tugged at your shirt, gawking when you lifted your arms to see no other material supporting your chest. Jisung was mesmerized once again. Another surface area that he wanted his hands on immediately.

“I can’t believe you heard me fuck other girls and never said anyti-”

“Shhh,” you hushed, pressing your folds firmer against Jisung’s cock. Your best friend reach for your hips immediately, in shock of your bold actions, “I don’t fucking care Jisung it’s fine just touch me, please.”

“You don’t have to ask twice,” he huffed, palms snaking past your abdomen and gripping onto your tits hard, firm, rough. Ugh. Nothing had ever felt so good in your life. All this time you thought Jisung was a stupid little pathetic boy, with the occasional fuck here and there. God, it would almost make you laugh at how incorrect your perception was of him in the bedroom. Truth was, he knew what he was doing, because your arousal was doing nothing but increasing with each longing moment that his wood was not inside of you.

“Soft fucking tits,” Jisung mumbled, almost drooling as he slapped one of your nipples, the skin imeediadtely turning hard as he brought his lips to to the bud. His teeth appeared, claws like, as he took the same one in his mouth, not returning for breath as he nippled, licked, sucked; you name it, Jisung was doing that. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, head rolling back in pleasure, “how are you so good at everything you do?”

A chuckle escaped Jisung’s lips, the vibration felt across the entirety of your chest, “I’m not I-”

The two of you paused, freezing entirely when you heard Jisung’s phone ring. He glazed over, noticing the words “Mom” written across the top of the screen. He looked away as he turned back to you, that look of hunger dilating his pupils. The temporary freeze made Jisung long for you even more.

“Jisung,” you whispered, hands placed across his face and upper neck, “you should answer.”

“No,” he huffed, attaching his lips over your neck sporadically, “if it’s an emergency she’ll call me again. I’m busy.”

The phone was silent for maybe a few seconds, before it began to ring again. Jisung scoffed, removing his hands from you as he picked up his phone. 

Your joint and lighter were in arms reach. You ignored the conversation, bringing the material to your lips and lighting it up again, your body relaxing even more as you took a deep breath in, feeling the substance sink into your skin, blowing out the remnants after. Your eyes turned to Jisung, his already on you, eyeing the joint in your hand. He leaned forward, waiting for you to put the joining between his lips. You complied, bringing the flame in unison. Jisung mumbled his words for a brief moment before blowing out the air.

“Yes mom,” he answered, “I’m fine. Y/n is fine, I just checked in on her.”

A small giggle came to your lips, followed by Jisung covering them. Removing his appendages, you decided to stand up, letting go of Jisung on his lap as you dropped to your knees. Like a predator, you crawled over, eye level with his knees. Jisung’s brows furrowed, taking him a bit of time to realize what you were about to do. He was still on the phone, talking to his mum about god knows what. That wasn’t your focus for now. It was spreading his legs wide, Jisung’s hardness evident as it spread across his groin. Your lips curled upward as you situations yourself where you needed to be, Jisung’s eyes widening as he realized what you were about to do.

“Yes I am s-sutdying hard,” Jisung shuttered, the sudden touch being your hand wrapped around the base of him startling him, “j-just finished one a-assignment today.” 

A deep, lustrous chuckle escaped your mouth as you began to pump him, watching your best friend’s sensitivity, squirming at the touch. Jisung was doing everything in his power not to moan, prevent knowing how much effect you had on him, and form his mum knowing what he was doing.

“Mom can I c-call you back l-later, bit b-bust, busy right now.”

Jisung’s body jolts forward the moment he felt your tongue on the underside of him, making its way to his tip. He hung up the phone, tired of this torture as his hands found their way through your hands immediately. His sign of eagerness felt so good, the gentle tug from him begging you to go down on him completely driving you wild. The pain mixed in with pleasure immediately, traveling to your core and pulsating harder than it has ever felt in your life. Jisung was lengthy, but that was no problem. Beginning, slowly, you took him into your mouth, a guttural moan bleeding from his lips as his head rolled back with ease. 

“Holy fucking shit,” he gasped, almost running of out of room to breath, “you’re so fucking good at this baby”

A slight moan fell from your lips at the use of the pet name. Jisung’s head snapped back down immediately to you, catching your gaze in an instant. Your eyes looked bigger to him, doe like. It was driving Jisung wild; he could’ve finished right then and there. Being high and having the elevated physical sensation from your magical touch was something he could live with forever, maybe become addicted to. If this is what life felt like under the influence, he now wanted this all the time.

“Mmmh,” you sighed, a large pop and breath coming from your lips as you replaced your hand, “you taste so good Sungie.” 

Your free hand traveled down your body, descending to the apex between your thighs to satisfy that ache that was growing with intensity with every second passed. The attempt to hide your pleasure was amateur, biting down on your bottom lip as a stifled groan left your lips.

“Y/n, baby,” Jisung purred, leaning forward and grabbing your forearms, “come here.”

You did as you were told, helping him hoist you back onto his lap. The brush of him against you this time is 10x more powerful and intense. Nothing had ever felt like this before; you never wanted this to end. Jisung scanned you again, looking up and down one more time before seizing the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head. You gasped, hands immediately clamping onto him as you leaned forward, reattaching your lips to his.

Above everything, Jisung’s lips felt the best. This symbolized so many times, conscious and unconscious, did you think about how they would feel. What they would taste like. How other girls thought Jisung’s lips tasted and felt like. Jisung smiled as he pulled away, the devilishly handsome smile on his face as he leaned into your ear, “sit next to me baby.” 

It seemed that the only thing you could do was be obedient to Jisung. His orders were like music to your ears. In your friendship dynamic, you tended to be the more domineering one. Making decisions for Jisung, whereas he was the more nonchalant friend. Always happy to go with the flow, as long as he was with you. This time, may things were different.

Jisung sat in the same place with his legs spread. Leaning over, he grabbed you by the thigh closest to him, fingers dancing across the skin on the inside of your thigh as his lips turned upward again. All of a sudden you felt nervous. Watching your best friend ogle you was a strange feeling. Jisung immediately noticed your energy shift.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah,” your eyes widened, looking directly at him.

“You okay baby?”

“Yeah? Yeah! Sorry, let me have another puff.”

Jisung saw you grab the joint and the lighter again, bringing to your lips before he reached for your wrist, pushing the objects away, forcing your attention to be on him only.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“No,” you interjected, bringing the material and lighting the tip once more, “I fucking want you. I just zoned out for a second.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, followed by his cheek, back of the ear and down to his neck, cascading hisdown to the middle of his chest. Jisung giggled at the feeling, the tickling sensation emitting fire throughout his body. He returned the favor, placing a kiss atop of your breast before he reached for his own joint, handing you the lighter, “Will you do me the honors?”

“Fuck yes I will,” you marvelled at his enthusiasm, lighting up the joint without a hesitation, watching him sit back and close his eyes, taking everything in. You did the same, wanting to embrace that feeling that resulted in you buying this in the first place. 

It was as if the last puff recharged your best friend, his eyes reopening, that dark, lustful caste creeping back into them as he reached for you, pushing your leg out of the way, hand clasping your inner thigh. There was no sign of his movement stopping, fingers already pushing your folds across, almost as if they were in the way completely. A sharp gasp fell from your lips the moment his middle finger touched your clit, the sensation overwhelming immense as he began to move in circular motions. Jisung’s touch was gentle, in reality, he was barely applying any pressure. But in this moment, the pleasure you were deriving from his fingers was tenfold. Eyelids were fluttering, it felt like you could barely keep up with him. It wasn’t until you saw Jisung’s cock twitch out of the corner of your eye that you knew what you had to do. 

It was time for your hand to snake around his body, but, in contrast to Jisung, you did not want to wait. There was no time to tease; you were simply too desperate. Fingertips found his weak spot fast, dexterity sloppy wrapped around your best friend once again as you matched the pace he found on you. It was slow, sensual, anything to build the pressure between your thighs, and between his. 

“Y/n, baby,” he whined, a deep groan following, “Your hands are my favorite part of you right now.”

A seductive chuckle escaped your lips, “Your hands are my favorite part of you right now too Sungie.”

“Fuck I love it when you call me that with your voice all fucked up and groggy.”

“Sungie baby, I always call you that,” you paused, bringing short circuiting from the finger that Jisung slipped inside of you, “what’s so d-different about it now.”

“You always turn me on Y/n,” Jisung grogged back, “always,” he smiled, pausing again, “especially right now.”

A small heat came to your cheeks, hips gently dragging across his fingers. God, was this what heaven felt like? Your hand picked up in speed, Jisung reacted immediately with a gentle whine. The noises he made to you were like an orchestra playing its grand piece. Another side of Jisung that you had not seen, but were mesmerized by. It was a whole new world. A whole new territory of risk that the two of you had decided to explore. However, all rational and logical decisions were thrown out the window a very long time ago. Jisung wrapped his free hand around your breast, clasping onto your nipple as he entered another finger into you, index and middle finger picking up their pace, adding the squelching sound of your wetness as another sound that filled your tiny dorm room. Dorm room. You forget momentarily how thin the walls were; but who gives a fuck? It’s not like Jisung was going to hear. He was the one that was making you moan over and over anyway.

“Sungie,” you whimpered, “feels so good.”

“Say my name like that again.”

“Sungie.”

“Fuck,” he growled, pushing deeper into your walls, “your pussies screaming for me.”

“It’s your pussy,” you breathed, the tremors of your release beginning to rumble, “no one has ever turned me on this much Sungie.”

Your best friend had a smirk of approval, curling the tip of his two fingers inside of you. A small shriek escaped your lips, hand flailing from his cock as your jaw dropped at once. Hips bucked up and off the couch, a sinister chuckle coming from Jisung as he watched your hips squirm for him. He was possessed by the way your body reacted to him, reacted to his touch, he did not pay two minds to the throbbing sensation between his legs. All he could see was that you were slowly losing it. 

You did not care. You were waiting close and closer, deeper and deeper, hitting a spot that has never been touched in your life. Your mouth was getting bigger, hips moving with less and less rhythm. There was an impending feeling that you knew was going to happen, it was only a matter of seconds. 

“Sungie I’m gonna-”

“I know baby,” Jisung cooed, eyes fixated on your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline, “cum for me.”

A borderline scream left your lips when your hips plowed to the couch, an rupture of pleasure cascaded of the entirety of your body, legs shaking and howling in pain like they never had before. Your chest was breathing heavy, deep in unison with Jisung’s as he removed his fingers, your pussy aching from the lack of fullness. Jisung leaned over, pressing a kiss to your neck in several places before your lips. He waited until your eyelids stopped fluttering shut for you to see him bring those sinful digits to his mouth, and suck on them, hard, a deep groan leaving his lips at the taste. 

“Fuck you taste good,” he winked, causing both of you to start giggling. 

It did not take long for your eyes to travel to his still very hard cock. Your hands traveled immediately, both encompassing the majority of him before you began pumping, hard. To anyone with an outside view, this was not classy sex. It was sloppy, but the two of you were so high that it was perceived the former way. Jisung needed your touch, you needed to touch him. Jisung wasn’t far off either, and the fact that you were looking at him with vigor, with desire was bringing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“Y/n slow down, I’m gonna cum too quick.”

“No such thing,” you purred, adding your tongue into the mix, flicking your tongue along the slit of his tip.. You leaned over, Jisung resting his hands across your ass as you coaxed one moan after out of him. Jisung’s head snapped back, unable to comply with the amount of pressure he was feeling. In a similar fashion to you, his hips began to buck, tip slipping into your mouth as his sounds got louder, his pleading becoming stronger.

“Y/n fuck, s-shit I’m gonna cum, Y/n I’m gonna cum.”

Jisung’s voice became whiny, the tone music to your ears as you moved your mouth away from his length, bringing your lips to the crook of his neck and collarbone, gently nipping on the soft spot on his skin as his muscles coiled underneath your body, cock getting harder under his hands as he hit his peak. Ropes and ropes of him squirted across his stomach, a deep groan, one sounding of relief bursting from his lips as he gripped your wrist, chuckling to stop you from a sensory overload.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, regaining his compures as he grabbed you by the neck, pulling you into a deep, deep kiss. The pressure on your neck was comforting, a smile turning on your lips as you pulled away. 

“Wow,” Jisung gasped, “That was,”

“What took you so long?”

“Y/n, shut up,” Jisung spat, the fatigue hitting him suddenly, “woah, I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I tend to have that effect on people,” you smirked, the room erupted in laughter as Jisung laid back on the couch, pulling you into him as the two of you looked at the ceiling. Your substance affected mind was starting to wear off, causing your exhaustion tenfold. The two of you drifted off to sleep almost immediately. 

“When I wake up, you're gonna get it,” Jisung mumbled, but you were already asleep. 

Depending on how you felt when you woke up, that would change everything.

[heartinhyacinth]

Ahh this has nuzzled its way into my brain

Now I’m imagining that they’re sentient like the statues and remain that way for the same reasons—Xie Lian doesn’t know how to make it stop and it’ll fade eventually anyway, so they just let it be.

Two or so days later, Feng Xin, Mu Qing, and Pei Ming come over to discuss some matters, and Xie Lian, profusely embarrassed, briefly explains, “you see, it’s like the…statue incident haha…”

While Feng Xin and Mu Qing understand immediately, Pei Ming asks for clarification, but Mu Qing turns bright red and declares that they’re not talking about this. Xie Lian agrees. Hua Cheng is snickering quietly in the corner, lounging on the bed with an arm draped over his knee as he leans against the wall behind him and lazily brushes off the cover that repeatedly tries to tuck him in.

They move on and start discussing business, until half way through when Xie Lian seems to have stopped listening, instead staring anxiously at the broom that’s sweeping towards Feng Xin. Hua Cheng is also staring at the broom, except his expression leans on excited anticipation, a mischievous grin beginning to form. Mu Qing notices first and calls them out on not paying attention.

Xie Lian apologizes, but his eyes remain on the broom, “I am, I am! It’s just…” He pauses and takes a wary step towards Feng Xin, hands outstretched cautiously like he’s trying to herd a snappy dog. Xie Lian hesitates, “you’re…um…you’re in the broom’s way…”

Feng Xin, predictably, rages. “I’m- I’m in the broom’s way?! It’s a fucking broom!”

Xie Lian knows how it sounds, but he and Hua Cheng learned the hard way what exactly happens when you’re in the broom’s path while it’s trying to clean. They could have just tossed it out after, but it’s working so hard and it really just wants to help. “I know, I know, it’s just that it…has a bit of a temperament issue haha, you might want to…”

Feng Xin merely scoffs and squares his feet, pride as stubborn as ever. Seconds later, the broom swiftly floats up, meeting his eye level. Feng Xin glares at it suspiciously, and then it flips and starts wacking him on the head, the shoulders, the face. It still looks like it’s sweeping, just vertically now.

Feng Xin is flailing about, screaming and cursing. It’s not an ordinary broom—not just because it’s sentient, but because it was born from Xie Lian. The broom hits hard. Hua Cheng is now sitting up straight to get a full view of the live entertainment, delighted at getting the outcome he was so clearly hoping for. Mu Qing and Pei Ming are trying to avoid Feng Xin’s flying fists while laughing so hard they nearly lose balance trying to do both at once. Xie Lian is trying to calm the broom and talk it down, while also scolding Feng Xin because he shouldn’t have provoked it. It finally calms only once Feng Xin is in the other corner of the shrine, far out of its sweeping path.

“Bravo—nice!” Hua Cheng claps his hands and then snickers, “next, why don’t you see what happens when you piss off the cooking pot”. Pei Ming, who was standing a few inches from the stove, glances at the pot of steaming purple…whatever it is, then quickly gives a wide berth.

As they go to leave, they announce that next time they’ll just talk outside. Xie Lian chuckles nervously and they all follow his line of sight as his eyes drift towards…the ax.

And they thought paradise manor was the house of horrors between hualian’s homes…

//I’m fairly new to tumblr and don’t rly know the etiquette here (or social rules in general if I’m being honest) so I hope this is alright??//

Obsessed with the idea of Xie Lian getting his spiritual powers back and not really using them outside of like subconscious actions. Like in a fight he spent 800 years just straight up throwing hands so it doesn’t really occur to him to use it. But because he’s literally stuffed full of spiritual energy so it just results in Puqi Shrine becoming the fairies house in Sleeping Beauty. Like there’s a pot stirring itself while truly toxic ingredients are added to a soup. The floor is being sweeped by a broken broom. The laundry is being done automatically meaning all his white robes are now a faint pink. Hua Cheng is sitting in the bed grinning fondly at the chaos around him. Meanwhile Xie Lian is just sitting outside sorting out his junk piles to see if he can find the pretty comb he wanted to give his husband and thinking of the chores he has to do today because they didn’t leave the bed until noon.