#and the cashier is now pissed

[queenboimler]

so i work at a dispensary right now that sees a lot of business in the last 30 minutes we're open so tell me why all my managers love to take drawers away to count them out and only like to leave one register available for the last hour so we can guarantee we have a line of people still in the store after close

[starlooove]

Im actually gonna cry

[rumisgf]

PASSENGER PRINCESS - connie springer x black!reader

summary: your... best friend takes you on your weekly late nights drives. but, this night is different: both of you are aware of the tension between y'all even though neither of you address it- until tonight. warnings: marijuana usage, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, yk car sex, french kissing

you just had got off work, and today really wore you out. it was the usual: your manager was getting on your nerves, there was this lady who tried to argue with you over the counter, and you had to train probably the most incompetent teen who had just got hired. all you knew is you need a blunt and a nap.

as you're laying on your bed ready to kick your clothes off, your phone buzzes. a text from connie, probably the only person you have patience for right now. it reads 'you home?' to which he knows you are, he found out when you get off work (because he listens, of course. totally didn't do his own research before you even told him directly). the minute you text back he's calling your phone, and you roll your eyes a bit 'cause you already know he wants to bother you now.

"hello, sir?" you can hear him smack his lips.

"man, you not even tired! i'm 'bout to head out anyway, just wanted to see what you was doin' right now."

"what, you trynna pick me up?"

"don't ask dumbass questions, you want me to pull up or not?"

you smile to yourself, and get up to change out your work clothes. "mmm... yea. c'mon."

"bet." *click*

soon enough, you see his car pull up from your apartment window and make your way out the door. as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but grin to yourself. no matter how bad of a mood you're in you would never miss an opportunity to chill with his fine as- you mean, the only tolerable dude you know.

you open the car door, the smell of weed hitting your nose. "yooo!" connie greets you with a smile, and a wood in hand. he already had started to roll up before you even made it to the car.

"nigga, what did i tell you 'bout smoking outside here?! if i get in trouble, it is not gonna be my fault!"

"you'on wanna hotbox?" he asks obviously, making you roll your eyes as you buckle in your seatbelt.

he starts the car up and places one hand on the wheel, ready to find an empty parking lot. he notices how you stare outside the window, hand resting on your cheek. "work piss you off?" you simply reply with, "why?" and he says "you not talkin' like usual and actin' all bothered."

he was right, work did piss you off. but for some reason, he was making you especially nervous today. "ion know, just my manager was on dick today. and i had to train this lil' boy he was pissing me off too. i know he a kid but damn, this why i ain't wanna be a trainer in the first place. i already work overtime most of the week i don't be having the energy for that shit, y'know? he keep giving me all these things to do like my schedule not already tight and i'm busting my ass just to still not get promoted yet." it was nice to get stuff of your chest like this because it really calmed you down. better yet, he knew how to calm you down. he knows how to listen while making sure you're still having a good time.

he eventually pulls up to a gas station. "well, don't let that shit bother you. you probably gon get promoted anyway cause you actually do your job. besides, if that don't happen, i been telling you to quit anyway." getting out the car, he pulls his hoodie over his head and comes to open your car door. "now c'mon." "i don't want noth-"

"i said c'mon, mama, i'm getting you snacks! and i want some too i'm not leavin' you in here."

having no argument, you get out and walk with him inside. since it is late, you're the only ones in there and there's only one cashier in sight. the mid aged lady smiles at the two of you as she notices the door bell ring. you both grab a drink of choice from the freezer and make your way to the counter. he sees your eyes dart to a bag of chips, and he picks it up to place it down before you grab his hand. "you don't have to, con." he ignores you, sliding it to the cashier to scan. "oh, stop it, you act like i haven't payed for your hair before."

"your total is $12.59"

he pulls a 20 out his pocket, handing it to her a taking his change. as you both leave, she says "by the way, you two are such an adorable couple!" but, before you can correct her, connie replies

"thank you, ma'am!"

now, you're both sat in the car laughing at the interaction that just happened. "thank you? for real?" you say through giggling. connie simply shrugs, "i ain't wanna make her feel bad!" in your mind, you began to question his response still. why didn't he say no? "i mean shit, you don't look bad so." he stops, furrowing his eyebrows and side eyeing you. "oh, if i was ugly you woulda had a issue?" you look to the side as he pretends to start to be offended. "well, yeah duh." he laughs in response, you following after. "alright, dude."

eventually, he pulls into a random parking lot. you see a bench and a sign, so you assume this is just some park in the area. luckily, no one's here anyway. connie's hand finds the back of your headboard as backs up into a spot. "found this spot like yesterday, nobody really around at night. plus it's chill, i wanna talk to you and ion wanna be bothered seeing other people around."

you can't help but focus on his jawline as he looks back, barely paying attention to the words coming out his mouth. "you even listenin' to me?" he snaps you back into reality. you turn back in your seat as you smack your lips and he chuckles, settling back into his seat. he picks up from where he started, rolling a blunt for the both of you. once he finishes he pulls out a lighter from his glove department, bringing it to his mouth. your eyes pay good attention to his eyes glancing down at the wood, his fingers, his mouth as he inhales, and the way he looks at you after he puffs out smoke.. god he looked fine.

"damn, you gon' take it?" he asks before you even get the chance to zone out completely. you mutter "my fault" before taking it and bringing it to your own mouth. now, its his turn to examine your movements. you don't even notice him eyeing you: the way your acrylics look as you hold it, your makeup still looking nice after a full day of work, your closed lids, the way you're slightly titling your head back... fine as fuck he thinks to himself. he takes off his hoodie as his body warms up. when you look back at him, you see his toned arms in the moonlight and your face begins to heat up. "you feel better, ma?" you nod in response, attempting to contain yourself. however, he can't help but examine you and you begin to notice. "so, what you wanna talk abt?"

he uncharacteristically fiddles with his thumb and looks down. "well shit..." you take another hit, still making eye contact with him. "after that thing just happened it kind of reminded me even more," he takes a pause. he puts his hand out, and you pass the blunt to him before he continues. he brings it to his lips, slowly inhaling. then as he exhales,

"what if we was a couple?"

you take a second, nearly being took out your high that barely started coming over you. "oh.. uhm-"

"not like that, just what if, y'know?" he quickly interjects to save himself from possible rejection. "yeah of course....well, ion know like i said you not ugly." you end up shrugging. sure, you guys are friends, but it would be a complete lie to say you haven't thought about it yourself. you had just never planned on voicing it. "well, what do that mean?"

"i don't know, you not ugly. if we talking hypothetically you my type i guess." you explain, avoiding saying how you actually feel. "i guess is crazyyy." he leans back in his seat, throwing one of arms behind his head as he takes another hit. "so, i'm yo type?"

you feel yourself start to smile. "now what do you mean, sir?" he simply laughs. "i think you pretty too, y/n." his statement catches you offguard, and you find yourself speechless. he only laughs more and looks straight at you, now half-lidded with red hued eyes. "you ain't notice me starin' at you for how many times you been in my car? and you the only girl i really be having in my car, you basically my passenger princess."

the name passenger princess makes you feel warm in a place that you are not willing to acknowledge. "...well, i been starin' at you too. surprised you ain't notice" he's quiet for a second, then looks down at his lap with a smirk. "i did." you smack his arm and he's now in a fit of laughter as he relishes in your embarrassment. after a minute, he smiles at his eyes cant help but focus on your lips. "what?"

he takes a minute to think over the choices he's about to make. and after some thinking, he comes to a conclusion. "...c'mere, mama."

you stare at him for a second, questioning if this is a good idea. but, the way his arms look after removing his hoodie and the way he's manspreading is definitely blinding your judgement. so, you find yourself climbing in his lap just slightly raised up enough so you're not actually sitting on him. but, his hand wraps around your waist and makes you sit down. "aw c'mon, why you bein so shy? it's just me." and he's right. this isn't even the first time you've been this close to him or sat on his lap. your friendship has very little... boundaries. or better yet, you two have a closer platonic relationship than others.

he stares back at you as he raises the blunt in his hand to your lips. you take a hit, blowing smoke directly in his face. you both smile and laugh softly, connie biting his bottom lip. "you so goddamn fine, i swear."

all you respond with a soft giggle as you lean closer into his chest. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds eye contact. finally, you both slowly lean in, closing the distance between your faces. his lips instantly catch yours and set a steady pace. he tastes like soda and indica, but right now that is so delicious to you. subconsciously, you slowly move your hips on his laps in rhythm with the movement of your lips on his. he lowly grunts and pulls away. "woah, what you trynna do?" he mumbles, eyeing your body on top of his. "shit, i been holding in a lot, con... i'm on what you on."

his eyes find your thighs, then comes back up to your red, lazy eyes. "you sure, ma?" you bite your lip, "yeah... you want to?" a soft chuckle leaves his lips and he leans back in, centimeters away from your lips. "i been wantin' to do so much to you, y/n, i wanna make you mine.."

his lips crash onto yours and his hands immediately find your ass, massaging the plush skin hidden by your leggings. your tongue finds it way into his mouth and he matches you, tongues dancing with each other. you can feel his boner from under you, and you hope he can't feel you throbbing on top of him. he pulls away again, and tugs at the hem of your leggings.

"can i move these, baby?" he asks. you nod, and he pulls them down to your knees. you shimmy them off knowing you're better off without them restricting your ankles. in return, he scoots you back and he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his stiff hard dick under his boxers. nearly drooling, you eagerly move back up and kiss him again. you grind your hips on his lap once more, moaning into his lips at the feeling. his hand go to guide you and kneed on your ass. he groans into the kiss, you making him harder than he already was.

then, you pull away. he takes a second to look down and notices the wet spot forming on his boxers. he smirks to himself, "damn, baby you that wet?" you look away, still grinding on him. he laughs to himself at your reaction then slides his hand down, pulling your underwear to the side. this thumb finds your clit and you gasp at the sudden contact. he rubs slowly, eyes glued down. he pays attentions to the way your hips begin to buck upward at his touch. then, he slowly slides two fingers into your entrance. "o-oh fuck-!" you moan out. looking back up to you, he licks his lips and focuses on you. "like that, mama?"

you hum in response, eyes closing with pleasure. grinning, he curls his fingers and earns a louder moan sliding out your lips like butter. the sound of you and your wetness as he plays with you is music to his ears. "c-connie..." as you moan out for him, he perks up teasingly. "hm, baby?" you open your mouth to speak, and cut yourself off with another moan. "i- fuck.. i need you"

"need what, babygirl?"

you whine, knowing he's making you say it. "..need you t' fuck me, bae.."

with that, he slips his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and keeping eye contact as he licks them clean. while he does this he lets you pull him out his boxers, dick springing out. you already had a feeling, but he's big. you stroke him slowly, taking notice of how he squirmed in your touch. "fuck, y/n.." his hips buck upward and his lids close for a second, slightly throwing his head back. you end up throwing off your underwear, leaving you in only your hoodie you left the house in.

"take yo time, okay?" he says softly as you lift up. you nod, and finally begin to sink down onto him. he bites his lips as he feels your slick coating him as you slide his dick into you. your hands grip his shoulders as you sit all the way down, feeling every inch of him. you both moan at the feeling. after a few seconds, you start moving up and down on him. your head falls into the crook of his neck, moaning onto his skin and sending chills down his spine. "f-fuck...baby.."

his hands find your hips, following your movements. "damn baby, just like that.. ride that shit.." you pick up the pace and your grip on him tightens. he now goes to grips your ass, helping move you up and down on all his length. "fuck-! 's so big.." you're whining and moaning into his shoulder, working yourself on him.

connie starts to move his hips in unison with you. "yeah, you like that shit? he starts grinning, looking at your face buried into him. "mhm.. love this dick.." your slick is staining his boxers even more as it drips down while you coat his dick in arousal. "i know, mama, this pussy takin' me so well... you wet f' me." he smacks your ass, earning a small gasp out of you. "look at me, ma."

you lift your head and he smiles at you, admiring your current state. "sexy as fuck.." he moves to massage your hips before pecking your lips. "love you, princess." your heart flutters, as well as your pussy, and your lips form a small smile. "love you, pa" you circle your hips on him and he hums with satisfaction, curses falling out his mouth. "yeah, just like that.. so fuckin' good.."

you ride him with intent, doing it like you had always did in your fantasies. "you feel so good.." you moan, your hole gripping him tighter. "fuck.. i know, ma, i know. takin' this dick so well."

a knot begins to form in your stomach and your eyes squint again as you look back at him. "baby, 'm gonna cum.." you moan, now moving up and down faster. in response, he begins fucking up into you at the same pace.

"mhm c'mon, nut all on this dick." your moans grow in volume and you become putty in his hands. "fuckfuckfuck!" you cry out as your eyes close shut, and you're slamming your ass down on him as you chase your high. he moans as he watches you, holding you tighter. "yeah, there you go mama..." soon, you begin writhing on him as you cream on top of him, painting his dick white. you can feel the strings of your own cum as he continues to thrust into you, reaching his own orgasm. "c-connie! fuck!"

"'m close baby, 'm close, i know." his breathes are frantic and his head is thrown back. "holy fuck, baby.. shit-!" he pulls out as he jerks himself, releasing himself on your ass. you both lay on each other, out of breath as you come down. he looks at you, a smile growing on his face. "don't you go fuckin' somebody else like that, you mine now."

you smile back tiredly, leaning in to kiss him. this kiss is slow, and loving. you pull away, "and you mine."

© rumisgf

[gamblersdoll]

“you ignorin’ me now, baby?” he questioned, looking over to you. what he did exactly? borderline flirt with a cashier so you can get a good deal. granted, you saved one hundred twenty bucks, but still. he embarrassed you to a degree.

you never responded to him, focusing more on whatever was in your phone and kept your composure from socking him. toji licked over his scar, chuckling to himself.

“you must be real mad, huh baby?” he tried to pry, but you havent looked up to him at all. he nods, getting closer to you.

he lowers himself to his knees, keeping his eyes on you. his larger hands rub your knees, sliding up your thighs and playing with the hem of your shorts. “baby.”

you ignore again, not paying him any attention.

he smiles, hooking his arms around and pulling your shorts off. no panties, huh? dirty girl. he knew you sometimes did this, but was it a major turn on for him? yes.

the inside of his mouth watered, the scent of your pussy fanning his nose.. it drove him crazy.

you, on the other hand, were aware of what had happened. you were still pissed at him, yet you ignored. he pressed his face into you cunny, eyes still looking up to you. as much as he could play the silent treatment, he wanted–no, needed you to pay attention to him.

he licks a long stripe, suckling so ever soft on your clit. he forced himself to not roll his eyes back, but he notices the stream of arousal leaking from your holes.

“ ‘m sorry , baby.” he says, mouthful of your pussy. “forgive me?”

you, at this time, had long forgotten your phone and swallowed thickly. you rest your legs on his shoulders. you nod, looking to him. “you must really love eating my pussy huh..” you breathe out, rolling your eyes back when he flicks the tip of his tongue on that sensitive part of your clit.

“i do.” he says, spreading your folds and licking around. “ill eat the motherfucker all day.” he praises, “every. fuckin’. day.” he says in between suckles and slurps.

you grip his hair, playing with a sensitive nipple on your own. you nod in approval, feeling yourself on the brink of ecstasy.

“my body is ‘yers..” he moans into your pussy, sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it. “fuuuck. i love eating this shit.” he praises, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“oh—god youre gunna make me cum!” you cry, raising your hips up and tugging on his hair. you barely hear him say to cum in his mouth, him greedily slurping it up in a sloppy effort.

toji pulls his face away, pulling yours down to meet in the middle and crash his lips onto yours. you taste as expected, like a pussy and a hint of your mango juice.

“sorry for flirtin’, just wanted to help you outs.” he mumbles in the kiss, trailing down to kissing your neck.

“dont pull that shit again.”

[teddybeartoji]

toji is a cat dad. the cat looks so fucking tiny next to him that it's a little comical actually. they spend every morning together – the cat twirls around and between his legs as he's grabbing the food, quietly meowing and purring. toji smiles softly to himself at the little thing's neediness. so cute.

the cat also just loves to follow toji around the apartment. always. he goes to the bathroom? the cat goes to the bathroom. he's cooking in the kitchen? the cat is in the kitchen. he's asleep in the bed? the cat is in the bed. (big man toji stomping around the house with the smallest cat in the world running after him.......... guys i'm melting i'm dying)

ok but he was a little weirded out by the cat's need to be in the bathroom with him lmao. like he's taking a piss and he looks over his shoulder only to find the little kitten just staring up at him with big eyes😭😭😭 toji grumbles under his breath and tries to ignore him but then he ends up looking over his shoulder again, hoping that he left but no. he's still there. sitting like :3 😭😭😭😭

"yer fuckin' weird..." is what toji tells him as he places the cat on the bathroom counter and he just gets a cute meow back as a reply. the cat watches him brush his teeth and toji has to fight the thing because he's now in the sink????? toji needs to spit out the toothpaste but the critter is getting comfortable in the bowl and he actually feels bad abt pushing him away... wahh he's so soft actually guys i can't do this anymore.

if the cat happens to be a big meower, toji's definitely talking back to him. he literally goes "what're ya yappin' about, lil man? 🤨🤨" while looking at the tiny creature. but he loves it, he thinks it's so funny. he picks the little guy up and just stares at him up close O.O (plss the cat is literally like the size of his palm i'm dying it's so cute).

he also likes to carry the cat on his shoulder. i think every cat would actually love toji so much, this is also canon here you cannot argue with me. and i think they'd all find him very comforting? and i think they'd love to sleep on him. so whenever he's cooking and the cat paws at his legs, he just picks him up and places him on his shoulder.

he once did that when shiu was over and he was just ????????? like man what are you doing put the damn cat down ????????? and toji just went. "no. he wants to see." with a blank face. to him it's very obvious. c'mon, the cat is so little, he has no idea what's happening up here, ofc he wants to see??????? smh shiu do better😒😒😒

oh and this was definitely just a stray cat he took in btw. after a long day at work, he was just walking home with a cig between his lips when he heard the teeeniest tiniest little meow coming from behind the dumpster in an alley. and well... the curiosity got the best of him and he went to check it out aaand lo and behold!!!!!!! itty bitty kitty!!!!

big eyes peering up at him behind a thrash bag, he just knew he couldn't leave the poor thing there. he reached out his hand, letting the kitty smell him and he almost dropped his cig when he actually leaned into his touch immediately!!!! that's his baby now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he held the cat to his chest as he made his way home and he even stopped by a little corner store to buy him something to eat. the cashier did look at him with a raised brow bc what the fuck this massive man is holding the smallest cat in the world, but toji didn't mind. he didn't care. the cat slept on his back that very same night.

ALSO. thank u @kentophilia for putting this idea in my head ily<33 during the late hours of the day, toji lays in bed while reading his book with his glasses on – the cat stands on his chest with a determined face. he's already purring even though toji hasn't even done anything. he's just soo comforting and the cat just loves him soooo much okay:((((( toji lowers his book to look at the thing before scratching the top of his head and smiling to himself when the cat closes his eyes and purrs even louder.

the cat ends up trying to make biscuits on him and that makes toji yelp lmao. the tiny little claws dig into his warm skin as the he kneads toji like he's a piece of dough. purring and content – toji doesn't have it in him to make him stop either. it's not like it actually hurts, he was just caught off-guard. he didn't get scared by a cat btw, he didn't. in the end, he keeps reading his book with his one hand while petting the creature with the other. this is their routine. they're family!!!!!!!

anyway. he loves his little kitty cat with all his heart and he would literally kill for him:33333

[kamiversee]

Sukuna’s Fuck Buddy ꨄ

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ You agree to be friends with benefits with Sukuna, not exactly expecting to get ruined in different ways every week.

[ { Need to know } ] ➤ This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, dirty talk, tw; spitting, degrading, manhandling, pet names, fingering, unprotected sex, language, brief/slight exhibitionism, & Sukuna has a filthy mouth.

[ { Paring } ] ➤ Sukuna x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 4.2k

"A whore," Sukuna commented, clearly joking but his words had made you uneasy.

It was oddly specific. You hadn't thought much of it when he called you a whore the night prior, since, y'know, you liked being degraded. But, something about that being his assumption for your occupation was a crazy coincidence.

Especially considering how hellbent Gojo always is on telling you not to call yourself that. The more you thought about it...

Gojo got upset at something from Sukuna's party, he didn't want you to call yourself a whore all of a sudden, Sukuna seems to have believed that was your actual job, and you remember how pissed Gojo seemed as he thought about you sleeping with Sukuna-

Holy fuck. Are the two connected somehow? Is something going on? What does Gojo owe Sukuna? Does Sukuna know you only slept with him as payment to clear Gojo's debt? Is-

A finger had poked your forehead and you blinked out of your thoughts.

Sukuna was chuckling, "I was joking, woman. Calm down." He uttered, "I actually thought you worked at one of those beauty stores."

You raised a brow, still feeling uneasy with the man. "Beauty stores?"

"Sephora, Ulta," He shrugged, "Wherever the fuck. I pictured you being one of those cute little cashiers."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment...?" You murmured.

"Or working at McDonald's, I don't know, I didn't think too hard on it-- jus' wanted to fuck you," Sukuna admitted honestly.

Your expression drops, "Oh..."

His hand had gone to your chin and he tipped your face up, "Do you want me to want something more from you?"

His gaze was intense like always, causing chills to slip down your back. You shook your head, "I mean, no... I only wanted you to fuck me."

"We could keep doing this," Sukuna suggested with a shrug, "Make' it a weekly thing."

You batted your eyelashes at him a few times in thought. At the time, things definitely would've gone differently had you not answered his request but... Somewhere deep down inside, you wanted to make it a weekly thing.

"Really?" You had asked the man, taking him by slight surprise.

Sukuna had wholeheartedly expected you to disregard his suggestion to you but, you didn't. "Yes, really," He replied before stepping closer to his bedside where you were seated and leaning toward you, "Let's fuck every week."

You stared at him with wide eyes for a long moment, contemplating numerous things in your head. Technically, you should've said no. You should've moved on from the topic, y'know, brushed his offer off entirely.

Yet there you were, steadily nodding your head in agreement before uttering a simple, "Okay."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Which takes you to right now, a few weeks after said agreement where you find yourself in the backseat of one of Sukuna's cars, your legs sprawled out over his as you sit prettily in his lap.

Since agreeing to be friends with benefits with Sukuna, you and him have met up once a week, sometimes twice, just to fuck each other.

In Sukuna's right hand was his cell phone, the device up at his ear as he conversed with someone as if his free hand wasn't occupied with toying with your dripping cunt-- thick fingers fucking so deep into you and curling just right against your slick walls.

Your back was against his firm chest, lips parted with heavy pants and soft moans spilling from your throat as the lewd sound of Sukuna finger fucking you filled his vehicle.

Trying so hard not to be loud in courtesy of whoever he was on the phone with, you bit your lower lip, “Mmmh… Sukuna…” You mewl out gently.

He’s been at it for a while and you could even feel how hard his cock was against your ass, his tip leaking and member twitching beneath the fabric of his sweats every time you squirmed.

Sukuna sighs heavily and pulls the phone away from his mouth only to bring his lips to your ear, “Shut the fuck up. If she hears you, I’ll stop…” Pausing mid-sentence as your cunt squeezes tighter around his fingers, he smirks, “Slut.”

“P-Please… hah… don’t stop,” Your voice was filled with pure and utter need, just as he liked.

Sukuna angles his head down a bit, planting a soft and all too teasing kiss below your ear, his breath tickling your neck, “Then shut up.”

You’re nodding, closing your mouth, and swallowing down your own moans as he purposefully shoves his fingers into you at a rougher pace.

In and out and in and out, your pussy was gushing around his fingers— mouth opening and jaw dropping every now and then as he hit all the right spots.

“Fuck,” You curse under your breath as your torso leans forward and you shoot a hand down to grab his wrist.

Sukuna’s speaking to whoever he has on the phone but you only register a few words every now and then. “Mhmmmm,” He hummed and you swore that was directed toward you as your eyes flickered back— he knew you were close.

Sukuna’s fingers slid almost all the way out of your hole just to tease you, his fingertips slipping up to flick over your clit. A breathy moan leaves your lips as he rubs your clit aggressively, drawing circles over the bud and making your legs draw together.

“M’gonna cum,” You whine out quietly, struggling to keep your noises in.

He wanted to make things harder for you so he smirks, “Yeah?” Sukuna taunted, “Gonna’ make a mess? Hm?”

Your head just barely angled back to look at him, seeing that he didn’t bother to move the phone away or mute it so whoever he was talking to heard everything he just said. This overwhelming feeling of embarrassment and arousal shoots throughout your body and your face twists up in pleasure as Sukuna sinks his fingers back into you.

“No, not you,” He spat to whoever he was talking to on call, smirking at you afterward, “I told you I was busy when we first got on the phone…”

Your hips jerked forward a bit as you unintentionally moved to ride his fingers, panting and maintaining eye contact with the man. He nearly felt like he was getting high off of merely watching you grow so stupidly drunk in lust. 

“S’kuna…” You mumbled.

His cock ached in his sweats and he nodded, “Mhm, yeah, y’know what, I’ll call you back— I have a needy whore to take care of.”

You turned your head to face forward as he said that, once again feeling embarrassed and even squeezing your legs together a bit. The sound of Sukuna scoffing is heard and then his phone is, quite literally, tossed somewhere else.

He shifts and his now free hand goes to your hip as his other kneads into your pussy, making you dizzy in satisfaction as you continue trying to keep quiet.

“Look at you…” Sukuna taunts, “You’re about to cum, aren’t you?”

You nod stupidly, feeling the knot in your core build as your orgasm approaches, “Y-Yeah… fuck, please.”

“Hm? Please what?” He scoffs, as if he hadn’t had a tendency to strip you of your climax multiple times.

“Hah… Let me cum, p-please Sukuna,” Your voice was a needy but quiet whine and he bit his lower lip once he acknowledged you were still following his orders of being quiet.

Sukuna snickers, “Uhuh, I will,” He hums, “Jus’ keep squeezin’ around my fingers,” He leans forward so he could speak into your ear, low and rasped voice driving you over the edge, “Yeahhhh, like that— Fuckin’ whore.”

Your jaw drops and your mouth forms an immediate O shape as your eyes flicker, back arching, and whimper escaping your throat— you cum hard while still trying to be quiet, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you do so.

There’s a slick sound of Sukuna still toying with your cunt as you come undone and then he sits back, parting his legs a bit as you readjust into his lap and his fingers slip out of you.

Sukuna coos, “See? Was that so hard? Now here,” He moves one hand to your throat, forcing your back to be against his chest as his other hand goes to your lips, “Clean yourself off my fingers, messy girl.”

His digits that’d just been inside you prod at your lips, tapping your lower one before you part them and Sukuna pushes his fingers in. He was such a nasty man, forcing you to taste yourself and clean your slick off his fingers— you couldn’t stand him sometimes.

Not to mention how he teases you as he does so, “Taste good, right?” Sukuna asked.

You whirl your tongue around his fingers and then pull off them with a hard and firm suck, a slight pop emitting from the action, “Mhm…”

“Good,” Both of Sukuna’s hands go to your hips and he lifts you up. You hardly realize what he’s doing until he forces you to turn around and face him. Then, he makes sure you remain hovering over his crotch as he works his cock out of his sweats, his eyes on yours as if he were seconds away from devouring you.

Sukuna looked ravished for you, tired of the past minutes he spent on some tedious phone call when he could’ve been buried inches into your sloppy hole. His eyes were low-lidded, maroon shade dazed with this feral need for you.

Oh, he was about to fuck the shit out of you— as he typically does. You’d picked up on that much, how his eyes would change, his breathing grown heavier, voice low and pitched with this sexy rasp that made your cunt flutter.

“Do me a favor,” Sukuna suddenly voices out, making you blink out of your daze. Your hands were on his broad shoulders, keeping yourself hovered over him. “Sit on this dick ‘nd make another mess f’me,” He instructed, words causing you to look down at his hard, slightly curved cock that’s been freed from his clothes.

It’s so damn intimidating— the way his veins bulge, how his hand jerks at his shaft in quick pulls, tip sticky and leaking precum as you stare with pretty wide eyes.

Your legs were straddling his already so, after a moment of admiring his cock, your eyes flicked back up to his face. Sukuna was glaring at you, impatiently waiting for you to plop down onto his twitching member.

His gaze sent a chill down your spine and your body was finally moving again. You lower yourself steadily as you glance down again but because of how slow you were living and how needy Sukuna was, he goes to grab your hips and pulls your cunt down to his cock, tip pressing up against your hole.

Both of you let out a heavy exhale in sync and you rock your hips forward just a little bit to ride his flushed tip.

“Don’t fuckin’ tease me, woman,” Sukuna breathes out, voice more airy than he would’ve liked.

You smirk, “Sukuna…” Your gaze lifts to his face once more, “You’re drippin’.” You whisper tauntingly.

His brows tense and his cock suddenly pushes up a few inches into you, a shallow thrust made in reaction to your words. Sukuna’s dirty talk was rubbing off on you and it drove him crazy. The hands on your waist grip even tighter, sure to leave marks as his fingernails dig into you and he slams you down on his dick.

Your eyes widen, face twists up, and a sluty moan leaves your throat, “Oh fuck-,”

“Told’ you not to fuckin’ tease me,” Sukuna huffs out in an aggravated tone. His big rough hands slide up to your waist and he holds onto you tightly before forcing you to ride him at the pace he wanted.

You’re moving to keep up with his motions as best you can, using your legs to lift yourself up and then plop your cunt down on his cock over and over— sucking him in deep and tight each time you go down.

Meanwhile, Sukuna’s forcing you through it, making sure you don’t slow down for even a second. “Needy ass couldn’t even let me finish my phone call,” He grunts out, “Pussy just needed my cock, huh? She’s that greedy?”

Your cunt just flutters and gushes around his dick, walls closing around his shaft as a moan slips past your lips, “I… ah, oh-, fuuck… m’sorry.”

“Aw, you’re sorry?” Sukuna mocks, “No you’re nottt, you wanted me off the phone, didn’t you?”

You shake your head, “N-No…”

“No? Hah,” That smirk of his starts to appear and his hands slide down your body, caressing your skin as you ride him in earnest, “You wanted them to hear?”

Your hips stutter in movement and your eyes widen, “I-“

“Wanted them to hear how desperate you are for some cock?” Sukuna huffs out, hips suddenly snapping up into you, “How dumb you get once it’s in you? Hm?”

“F-Fuck, Sukuna-, ah, mghh.” You whine, hips coming to an almost complete stop as Sukuna fucks his cock up into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as his tip rams up into your cervix.

To make matters worse, he slaps your ass, “Did I say you could stop? Keep fuckin’ ridin’ me.” Sukuna orders meanly, making you whine as you find your movement again, earning a smirk from him in response to how your hips match his thrusts.

There was this slight shake to his car as you bounced up and down on his cock and he kept fucking it up into you, making it hard for you to think or even moan properly.

 He smirks and then holds your hips again, slamming you down slowly but roughly along with his words, “Mmmgh, just. like. that.” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back and breathing heavily.

The sight of him with his head back and neck exposed was so damn sexy, causing you to lean forward and move to his neck, pressing sweet but messy kisses all up and down his exposed skin.

Sukuna starts smiling, “Good girl.” He suddenly praises and your hips begin to rock back and forth, making his brows tense, “Aughhh, fuuuck, keep goin’, m’close.”

Because you had slowed again, you’d assume that he enjoyed it so you continued with a steady rock of your hips, keeping his thick length buried inside you as you did so.

He lets you continue like that for a minute or two but after that, he huffs, “I said ride me, whore. Don’t fuckin’ slow down.” Sukuna grunted.

For someone who was taunting you about being needy, he sure as hell had a thousand demands on how you should be riding him— as if he doesn’t know his dick is hard to take at some point.

Your brows furrow and your lower lip sticks out into a slight pout, one he finds so fucking cute. Sukuna moves his hands to your thighs, somewhat under them to aid you, and then he’s forcing your pussy to slick up and down him again.

You let out a little scoff before looking off to the side, “Shit…” Sukuna was thrusting up into you again, bullying his cock into your dripping cunt and forcing you to ride him through it.

“C’mon,” He smirks, “Take it—, fuck me.” He suddenly breathes out.

A shocked moan exits your mouth and your eyes are glossy as they find his, “W-What? Mmh…” You breathe. Did he just say what you thought he did?

“You heard me,” Sukuna’s smirk widens and slowly eases into a sexy almost fucked out smile “I said fuck me. Fuck me like you wanna make me cum,” He huffs, your body responding through upping your pace, “Yeahhhh that’s it.” Sukuna breathes, head flying back again.

The car creaked and bounced with the frantic movements of sex occurring inside, windows fogged, your tits jumping almost in his face, plush walls clamping down on his dick so good that he felt like he was losing his sanity.

Oh Sukuna was addicted. He can’t have any other woman on his cock that’s not you, not when you ride him so well and certainly not when your hand is abruptly felt on his throat.

Sukuna lets out a groan that’s treacherously close to a moan, his head tipping up from the seat as his eyes find yours, “Oh? You kinky fuckin’ woman, chokin’ me like this…” He grunts, smiling again afterward, “Can hardly feel those small fingers of yours…”

Truth is, he could feel your fingers. Blood rushed to Sukuna’s face and his cock, his mind dazed for a second as you choked him whilst riding him. He would never submit to you but goddamn you were making it difficult.

Your hole just sucked him up like a vice and your walls were so snug and warm, wetness coating his dick and even parts of his thighs. He was about to cum but he didn’t want you to think you’d got the best of him.

So, Sukuna tips his head to the side and brings a hand to your wrist, “This is cute but,” He pulls your hand off his neck, “Lemme show you how it’s done, pretty girl.”

Your lashes bat in disbelief before Sukuna’s manhandling you again, flipping you both over as his large muscular frame looms over yours. His big hands go to your legs and he spreads them fast and wide enough so that he can slam his cock back inside you.

Your back is arching off the seat of the car as soon as he pushes all the way into you, the sudden change in position making his leaky tip reach deeper than before.

One hand is propped up by your head and the other goes to your throat, Sukuna’s fingers carefully wrapping around you and feeling the way broken moans vibrate against your throat.

“Mmph… ah, ‘kuna,” You slur out as his thrusts pick up all over again. Something is mumbled under your breath and he finds it funny how you could barely get it out.

Tilting his head, “Huh? What was that? Speak up.”

You groan, “Harder,” His eyes widen and his hips just ram down into you at a merciless pace before you get out what you meant, “Choke m-me… mmh, f-fuck… h-harder, oh my… ahh, ngh…”

“Harder? You want me to choke you harder?” Sukuna repeats and you nod, earning a slight laugh from him, “Of course you do, slut.” As the last word leaves his lips, his hand is squeezing around your throat, making it hard for you to breathe while he recklessly pounds into your cunt.

“M-Mmmh,” You hum, eyes rolling back as that damn curve of his knocks into you just right, “F-Fuck. Ohmygod, f-fuuck…” You curse between a whine.

His face is hovering over yours, “Feel me in there?” You nod and he bites his lip for a moment, “Yeah?”

Sukuna just thrusts harsher and harsher, and then faster, pelvis crashing into yours over and over as the lewd sounds of sex escape his car with how sloppy it was getting. His cock was covered in you but only greedy for more, plunging in and out of you as he groans at the way you just suck him back in every time he pulls out.

“Want me to slow down?” Sukuna suddenly suggests. Again, you just nod, almost too fucked out to speak anymore. “Awww, but you’re takin’ me jus’ fine at this pace,” He praises, making your cunt throb about him.

“S’too… y-you’re so… hahh… mgh, f-fucking big-,” You moan out weakly.

Those words make his thrusts stutter and he grunts, “What? I’m what?” Sukuna questions, almost like he needed to hear you say that again. His face leans down to yours and his lips ghost your wet ones, “What am I? Say that again.” He whispers.

Your heavy breaths brush up against his lips as both of you hold such intimate eye contact with one another, “B-Big, S’kuna… S-So fuckin’ big…” You cry out, gentle tears beginning to leave your eyes.

The man unintentionally beats his cock down into your messy cunt, “Big? Ohhhh, don’t fuckin’ tell me that.” Sukuna groans, again sounding all too close to a moan, “Take it.” He huffs.

You nod yet again, “Uhuh… m-mmh, oh…”

“Yeahhh, take it you whore.” Sukuna huffed, “Every fuckin’ inch like a good girl, mhm-, fuck,” He finally moaned, eyes flickering for only a moment.

He was too into it, too into you— literally. Sukuna felt like he was in your stomach, the bulge of his cock so prominent with his every thrust. Never was he really gentle with you, not during the sex at least, there was no need to be. You liked him rough and he knew that.

“M’gonna cum inside you.” Sukuna suddenly warns, hips sloppy against you, “Fuck my cum nice ‘nd deep inside you,” He huffs, feeling how you twitch around him.

Then, Sukuna stares down at your face, his hand still around your neck as he gets a sudden thought, glancing down to your lips.

“Open your mouth,” Sukuna orders, his voice deep. Your lips are parting without a second thought and Sukuna looks you dead in the eyes as he spits onto your tongue. First, it’s one messy drip, then another filthy glob.

Oh that was nasty, he was nasty. And the fact that his action only turned you on even more really said something about you.

“Swallow it,” He demands right after, watching as you shut your mouth and do as told. Then, he feels the movement in your throat against his palm and he chuckles, “Fuck, that’s sexy… You’re such a nasty lil’ slut f’me, I like that.”

Sukuna leans down to you and the grip on your throat grows tighter, his lips moving to swallow yours up. It was a messy and heated kiss, your moans and whimpers being drowned out as his tongue slithered into your mouth.

The wet slick and slide of his mouth over yours filled the air and all you could hear was that and the brutal smack of his hips down into you as his cock unforgivingly kissed your cervix. Over and over and over again until your orgasm crashes over you.

Only then does Sukuna pull away from your lips, a messy wad of saliva hanging between the two of you as he speaks slowly and his voice makes you lose it because of that damn breathy rasp, “Pussy’s creaming ‘round me, shit.” He breathes out, slowing down his thrusts just so you can pay attention to it, “Hear that? Hear how she gushes ‘round my cock?”

It was messy, sloppy, and slick as he dragged his dick in and out of your pulsing walls. This is what it was like to be Sukuna’s fuck buddy. Whenever or wherever he wanted to take you, he would— spewing such filth out to you as he did so, no matter who heard him.

He didn’t care, he just wanted to make sure you heard him, heard his every nasty word because he knew you liked it. Hell, that’s why you’re cumming around his cock now, moaning beneath him, legs shaking, and tears streaming down your face.

Just as you’re coming undone, so is he, pace picking right back up as he fucks his orgasm into you— warm seed coating your walls as he leaned to your ear, groaning out a repeated and breathy ‘take it’ as you whined and suddenly clawed at his back.

“Take every drop,” Sukuna moans into your ear. You think he might have a breeding kink-, “Fuckin’ slut,” He adds on.

He’s going and going until he thrusts in hard one last time and stills himself. His breathing was so heavy in your ear, heavy like pants almost-, almost like you’d drained him of everything he had.

Sukuna remains still for a while before he shifts only a little, lips moving to your cheek as he kisses your wet skin. Then, it’s slow but his tongue slides out and he licks whatever's left of your tears off your face.

Your face twists up in slight discomfort due to his wet tongue and the fact that his heavy cock was still inside you wasn’t making things any better, “…Sukuna,” You sigh, “D-Don’t you have a phone call t-to return…?”

He smiles at how you remind him, despite your fucked out state and how ragged your voice was. Sukuna slowly moves to lean up but, he doesn’t pull out yet, “Mhm, I do. And uh,” He sits back a bit and pulls your body along with his, making sure he never once slips out of you, “You’re gonna keep my cock nice ‘nd warm in the meantime.”

His words catch you off gaurd, “But-“

His hand goes to your lower abdomen and Sukuna traces his fingertip over the slight print his dick makes against your skin, “You don’t want to?” He asks, tipping his head to the side.

Blinking, you just let out a sigh after a long moment of thought, “No, I do…”

“Alright then,” Sukuna smiles, “But if you make any noise, I’ll video call instead and show them the needy woman I gotta deal with,” He comments finally with a cocky little wink.

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[ennabear]

I really liked mean!abby, what would it be like shopping with her?

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ EEEE i’m glad u liked mean!abby cause i crave this validation!!!! i’m making this about the kitten because i know she secretly loves it, but if you want something else lmk!!! 100% projecting here because my cats are fucking FREAKS. anyways enough yap i’ll let you read now!!!

“aww, abby, look at this one!” you coo, the small white kitten sleepily stretches it’s arms out at the sound of your voice. abby shakes her head, “we don’t need another one.” she says coldly. the kitten rolls over with it’s stretch, showing off it’s soft white tummy. you reach out to grab abby’s shoulder in excitement, only to find her halfway down the aisle, eyebrows furrowed as she stares at her shopping list.

you give the kitten one last smile before turning to follow her, stopping to gaze at her beefy arms effortlessly lifting a heavy box of cat litter. she catches you staring, mumbling an annoyed “cmon. we have places to be.”

“what, you’re already antsy to get home and see your favorite kitten?” you tease, elbowing her in the side. surprisingly, she chuckles at this. “sure, whatever you say.” you turn the corner, eyeing a jar of catnip with a ribbon tied around it.

“fuck no.” she spits, your hand awkwardly halfway in the air as you reach for it. “oh, stop.” you roll your eyes. of course she has to say no to everything, she’s fucking glued to that damn list. “i’m serious, don’t you remember what happened last time? she jumped on top of the fridge and spilled the whole container, there was glass everywhere.”

“okay?” you laugh. “don’t you think our daughter deserves to get a little zooted from time to time? you do it practically every night, such a hypocrite.” she sighs deeply, debating the pros and cons quietly.

“fine. but if she pisses me off one more time, i’m sending her to rehab.”

“what’s that cat’s name?” you ask the cashier.

“the white one?” he gestures to the glass box behind him. “she’s meowrie catoinette, it’s here last day here before she gets sent to a shelter.” god, you’ve never heard a more perfect name. the stars are all aligning.

you grab abby’s wrist before she can swipe her card, using almost all of your upper body strength to hold it in place. “no. and i’m not gonna say it again.”

“what if they kill her, abby?” you plead. she’s not sympathetic at all, instead shrugging and wrestling against your grip on her wrist. “do they do that at the shelter?”

“there’s really no way of knowing.” the cashier answers. “once they leave here, it’s completely out of our hands.”

the kitten wakes from it’s nap at the perfect time, stretching it’s pouty mouth with a big yawn, then looking up at you and meowing. abby breaks free from your grip, swiping her card and quickly shoving it back into her wallet. “how much is she?” you ask.

“any adoptions within the last week of their residency are free. we wanna make sure these animals go home.”

“great!” you beam, “we’ll take her.”

abby’s mouth falls open at your audacity. no matter how much she says no, how hard she puts her foot down, you always find a way to beat her. she doesn’t say another word to you, not as the young man hands you a small meowing kitten in a cardboard box. not on the drive home. not while you eat dinner, your girls next to you slurping at a plate of fancy feast. not in the shower as you massage her scalp.

and it isn’t until you’re both in bed, half naked and half asleep, that she mumbles a grumpy “so this is our destiny now? to be cat moms?”

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Wolverine x Deadpool x F!Reader

ᯓ★ Being in a polyamory relationship with these two. (A dream inspired this AHAHHA–) fluff, lots of bickering between the two, funny/goofy shit, bit of jealousy/possessiveness, reader is fem!!

This whole relationship is a mess.

I'm talking never getting a moment of peace kind of mess.

For example this one time you drove the Honda Civic.

Nobody understood why you were the one behind the wheels 'cause now you're ramming into everything with Logan grabbing on the handle for dear life while Wade is having the time of his life at the back.

"Stop the damn car before we crash, bub! Yer gonna kill someone!" Logan shouted and at the same time Wade was screaming out the lyrics to "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC.

Did I mention how different these two are with you?

Wade loves it when you run to hug him, he would swing you around a couple of times with your legs wrapped around his waist.

As for Logan, he prefers something less than that. A simple hug is enough and you can't complain much about it because the way he completely engulfs you in his embrace always made your chest flutter.

It's no surprise that they are protective over you.

Like when you were captured by some troops in the void. The fire guy, Johnny Storm, couldn't help but try to flirt with you. He figured why not shoot his shot right?

"Hey..." He'd say, flashing you a cheesy smile.

And seeing his attempt to charm you, you couldn't help but find it amusing and chuckle.

Clearly the two didn't like it.

Which is why that may or may not be the reason why Wade decided to out the man and get him killed 🤷‍♀️ I guess we'll never know 🤔

You and Wade enjoy pulling pranks on Logan.

The sight of him being pissed off pleases you both.

There was this one time you guys swapped his whiskey to a non-alcoholic drink and you can imagine his frustration.

"WADE!!" But he can never get mad at you. He just can't.

Even Wade complains about this privilege of yours.

"Seriously Lo?! You're gonna get mad at me and not our lovely prank partner here? Come on man, we're both guilty parties in this crime scene. If you wanna get angry, at least share the spotlight :("

Cue you sticking your tongue out at Wade as he pouts with puppy dog eyes.

All jokes aside, the two love and support you dearly.

I like to think Logan is more of an old romantic and Wade is the adventurous type.

That's why it can sometimes take a while for them to decide what to get as a present for you.

"Why the fuck would she want a pillowcase with our faces on it?" Logan asked with genuine disgust in his eyes.

"Why wouldn't she?! It's cute as fuck, and you can never have too many pictures of us together. Besides, it's a lot cheaper than buying a life-sized statue of me for her bedroom, although that's an option too, I hear Wolverine-shaped body pillows are all the rage these days" Without realising, he continued on muttering nonsense to himself which had Logan roll his eyes.

"I'm buying her the leather jacket and it's final" Not letting Wade say anything, he'd walk off to the cashier with him left behind. His action causing him to get irritated.

"What about the budget?!?!" He'd raise his voice but Logan simply ignored him. Fed up, he stomps on his feet as he points at his back.

"Fine, you big lug!! I'll let you have your way this time. But don't come crying to me when she dumps us for a pair of more decisive superheroes!!" He'd shout.

In the end you appreciated the gifts you got for your birthday. Each gift speaks for their character.

You guys definitely have lazy days.

Days where you'll lounge around in pajamas and watch cheesy romantic comedies together, complete with a pile of blankets and snacks.

Expect there to be lots of laughter, cringing, and the occasional eye rolling. Not to forget how you three would start making fun of the characters and the cliche plotlines.

Logan clearly struggles to sit through the entire movie marathon and you always have the to be the one to pull his arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Gimme a break, bub. It’s the same damn thing every time— the good guy wins, the bad guy loses. It’s like they think we got the emotional range of a rock"

"Gee, what a buzz kill. But are they wrong though? You practically live like a rock!!" Wade laughed with Logan letting out a scowl.

Thank goodness you're dating them or else they'd be fighting almost all the time.

In the relationship you're the peacemaker

No but seriously Wade calls you that and the nickname has stuck to you.

You enjoy sleeping in the middle with the two on either sides. Half of the time you always wake up with the two fighting over you.

Just imagine Logan pulling you closer to him but before he could even do that, Wade would be quick to pull you back to his embrace despite them both being asleep.

You like to think it's their reflexes. That even when sleeping they're still fighting with each other 😭

However you absolutely adore the two.

Logan will MELT when you kiss his knuckles. Especially when you do it with your eyes locked to his. He will literally go feral for you.

And Wade? He absolutely loveloveloves it when you baby him. It's his guilty pleasure. Hold him close with his face placed against your chest and he swears the voices in his head finally quiets down. That's why you're his angel.

Also, the two really enjoy showering you with kisses. You can barely ever hold back a smile with the two smooching every surface of your face.

Will do anything to get your praise.

The competitiveness is too much.

Oh Logan got you a bouquet? Well Wade got you a bouquet made of tacos. Who's the better one now huh? 😋

To be fair Wade is Wade. There's nothing you can do about it... but that doesn't mean Logan is ever gonna let him get his way.

"Where's Wade?" You'd ask, watching Logan sink on the sofa beside you.

"Don't know... could care less..." He'd say, wrapping an arm around you to snuggle with you. In the other room Wade has been stuffed inside the closet. Completely restrained and duck taped.

All I can say is that dating them is all fun and love. Literal baby girls.

[usedpidemo]

Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)

The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff. 

Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.

At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.

And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.

—————

You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.

“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.

“Shoot.”

She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.” 

Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”

She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.

“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”

At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality. 

“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.” 

You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”

“No, Yuqi. Just go—”

“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”

You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.

“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.

“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.

“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”

Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?

“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”

“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.

You can only sigh in response before closing the door.

—————

Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.

“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”

“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed. 

You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”

“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”

And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.

“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.

She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”

“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”

Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.

“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”

Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.

“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”

“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.

You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”

“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”

To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.

You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures. 

This feels like your first day together all over again.

—————

The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word. 

When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way. 

“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears. 

“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.

“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.” 

“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.

You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?” 

“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—” 

“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”

“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Not even a little—”

“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.” 

You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation. 

The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.

Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.

—————

“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.

“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”

“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“Oof.” 

You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.

“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”

“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”

She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate. 

—————

“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.

Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.

“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.

“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”

“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers. 

“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”

“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.

“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”

—————

At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.

You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”

That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi. 

Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”

“Elaborate.” You laugh.

“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”

“And for good reason. Look at us now.” 

If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.

“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.” 

The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.

“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back. 

“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.” 

Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds. 

“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”

You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”

“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”

“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.” 

If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?

“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.

“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw. 

It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face. 

And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise. 

Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.

The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.

“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”

You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic. 

“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”

“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”

The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.

The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.

“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.

“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”

You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.

“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.

After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.

—————

The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.

In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.

It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.

Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.

To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there. 

“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”

“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.

“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”

“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”

“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”

So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.

“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”

Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing. 

“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”

“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.” 

Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same. 

Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests. 

You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.

“What do you mean?” You take another sip.

“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.

“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek. 

“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”

“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”

“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by. 

The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged  private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.

Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again. 

Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.

You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning. 

Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.

—————

Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:

> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi

Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.

Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable. 

So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.

You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.

“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”

“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”

A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”

“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”

“And what makes you say that?” 

“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”

“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”

Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.

That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.

Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”

“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.

She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”

Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!” 

Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.

Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint. 

The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all. 

There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.

“Fuck—oh fuck—”

You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer.  Way more explicit. Vivid.

“So—so—good—fuck yes—”

There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good. 

As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.

“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”

It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.

There’s no better opportunity than now.

With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself. 

Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.

Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.

Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.

“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”

It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.

She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”

The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.

“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”

Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.

When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.

Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell. 

So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:

“Hey.”

Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:

“W-what time is it?”

Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.

She doesn’t.

“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”

She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.

Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours. 

“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—” 

“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”

Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.

Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.

Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You��re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in. 

“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”

You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought. 

Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”

“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”

“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought  you were—”

“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”

And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.

You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly. 

It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.

And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her. 

“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.

Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.

You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you. 

Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—

Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”

The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever. 

And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.

You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating. 

“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”

“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”

You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.

It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.

And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.

“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”

The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.

It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.

Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.

And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.

“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.

“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips. 

“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”

Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.

And God, it fucking burns. 

You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her. 

She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core. 

You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.

There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.

—————

You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.

And it was.

It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”

This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.

Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.

“So, Yuqi.”

The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them. 

“About last night—”

Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret. 

“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”

“Sorry for what?”

You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.

Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”

You don���t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”

“And that is?”

“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”

It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”

“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”

That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.

“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.

“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin. 

“I think I know exactly how.”

And that’s all that needed to be said.

Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.

All the more reason for you two to stay together.

—————

(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)

(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)

(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)

[impish-baby]

Ahhh can we get that yandere friend group but with caregiver aspects too!! Maybe you’re also one of the friend’s younger siblings or just the youngest one in the group and no matter your actual age they just see you as a little kid no matter what ^//^

Daytrips - platonic yandere friend x agere reader - 🍦

"Ah, Ah, Ah.."

Tyler snickers, swiping the sugary coffee from your hands and holding it above your head. "I think you're too little for that, sweetie! Didn't your big bro say you weren't allowed to have any caffeine?" The older boy only laughs when you huff and protest, refusing to give the drink back.

"No way! Babies like you don't need it, so it's mine now." He hums, smirking at the upset look on your face. "But since I'm so nice, I'll get you a different treat from the menu if you stop pouting."

His smirk only grows when you deflate, patting your head condescendingly. "Aw, what a good kid you are.. thank you for not throwing a tantrum, cutie." Tyler makes you hold his hand as you head back over to the counter together, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

You think he might be done with the teasing until the boy coos at your stuttering attempt to order. "Poor baby, it's scary, huh?" The cashier is giving you an odd look now, you're sure of it. "It's ok.. I know it's tough to be a big kid when you're so little." You're near tears with how embarrassed you are when you finally get your snack, ripping your hand out of Tyler's grip once you're out of the way of the vendor stalls.

"Hey, hey.." He frowns, snatching your hand back. "Don't be a brat, you know I was just playing around." Trying to squirm away again seems to just piss him off further, his grip on your hand quickly growing uncomfortable. "What did I just say? Do I need to tell your brother you forgot how to behave? Do you want to be in trouble?"

Tyler huffs when you stop, giving you a sickly sweet smile. "How cute, you got all scared about being tattled on."

[taiyeoki]

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘? | 𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐎

↳ Kashimo + Reader

Genre . Smut

Warning . 🔞Minors do not interact | Contains breeding/impregnation, face fucking, nipple play, fingering, cancelled orgasm

Synopsis . Kashimo doesn't always show vulnerable emotions but when a man comes around fancying you, his wife, that wall comes crashing down with the simplest jealousy. Now he just wants to fuck you till tomorrow. Maybe putting a baby in you will make sure you're his.

A/N . This was supposed to be finished way sooner but I got too caught up with some other work, causing me to sleep at 4-5am for weeks straight and it physically affected me so I got body ache and inflammation. Turns out I got covid. And then afterwards, which is currently, I'm focusing a lot on art lmao.

You had no plans today but to lay around on the couch all day long. Kashimo didn't mind since he's used to the woman staying at home during his time period anyway. The only difference now though is that you weren't even doing any chores. He never forced you to do them though, but seeing you sprawled out on the couch with a bag of chips next to you had him pushing you to get up.

Which is why you were here now, going into stores around the city. No way is Kashimo Hajime going to let his wife laze around all day. He cared about his wife's wellbeing and he knew the negative effects of being cooped up at home. However, this time he wasn't one bit pleased at all. He just regrets taking you out in the first place.

Your husband held a scowl on his face. He always looked fierce to begin with but this was different. You could feel his stare boring holes into the back of your head.

Going to the counter to order takeaways, the cashier held a rather innocent looking expression. The bright smile and friendly service wasn't fooling Kashimo though. He knew the cash register's true intentions weren't just to serve you.

"That'll be $15.70 ma'am," the man's smile widened in an attempt to be 'friendly'. It felt so disgustingly fake to your husband though. You replied with a polite "thank you," as you took your food, smiling in return but Kashimo saw how he purposely brushed his hand onto yours when serving you your order. He knew that you were too kind for your own good so it wasn't your fault for reciprocating the polite gesture but it pissed him off how anyone would try to fancy his wife.

Unfortunately for him, the cashier initiated a little conversation with you.

"I hope you enjoy your food. You've got great taste based on what you ordered. As expected from a woman such as yourself," his eyes darkened with intent staring at your frame, the smile he held wasn't going to fool Kashimo though.

"Do you come here often? I would love to help serve you again," his tongue darts out to lick his lips, almost as if he's moistening his lips to prolong more conversation.

"Oh, thank you. I guess I'm starting to become a usual customer here huh?" Chuckling, you replied noticing that you do come here more often than you think, appreciative of his kind offer.

"Great! That gives me even more reason to come to work," he laughs a bit at his joke but keeps his eyes on you. It was even more apparent now that he's leaning closer to you, close enough that he could take in your sweet scent which was supposed to be reserved for Kashimo only.

"Aren't you here to do your job? Or are you being paid to flirt with customers?" A smooth, velvety voice cuts in. Kashimo swiftly moves in front of you before you can pay for the food. He wasn't going to let this man touch you a second time, dropping the cash on the cashier's hands without even an inch of being near him so he wouldn't have to touch this 'thing'.

"T-thank you. You must be—"

"Her husband," Kashimo scoffed, a smug smile tugged on his lips handsomely. His agile movements snaked his arms around your waist, wrapping you right next to him to show who exactly you belong to.

Kashimo's presence only made the man look smaller than he was with your husband's dominating height towering over him. At least he wasn't dumb knowing how much more muscular your husband is compared to the guy working behind the counter trying to flirt with a married woman. His eyes zero in on Kashimo's strong hold on the small of your back and it was clear how possessive he got. You aren't bothered, leaning into Kashimo to envelope yourself in his comforting scent. The sight only made the man nervous with fear. He knew you were taken seeing from the beautiful blue ring that decorated your soft finger, both you and Kashimo having matching rings. Just by the looks of it he could tell how expensive it must've been and yet he still had the confidence to try and sway you— right in front of your husband too, who surely made more money than him with his part-time cashier job.

"Come on hun, let's go," Kashimo glances softly at you and his tone is gentle. Much different compared to this stranger who's just grateful that your husband decided to stay civil for the sake of his wife. He wears the look of horror when Kashimo turns around to face him once more.

"We'll be leaving now. I wouldn't expect a guy like you to be keeping their job for long if this is how you work."

Arriving home only meant that you had to deal with the little ordeal that happened, inquiring Kashimo about it. "What was that about? You didn't have to be rude you know."

Your beloved husband only scoffed when you reminded him of what happened. Seeing the sour expression on his face told you how annoyed he was, plus the deep scowl on his lips presented how pissed he was too. He pushes you against the kitchen counter, caging you between his strong arms as his lips latch onto your neck, kissing aggressively. You whine softly from how rough he's being, sucking on your supple skin creating hickeys everywhere while your fingers intertwine with his cyan locks. Your breaths are labored, he knows your body better than you do. He knows your sweet spots and your favourite positions, how you like it done and the perfect pace to do it.

Letting go, his saliva connects to your now bruised skin and he admires it.

"Pretty little mark. Should give you more don't you think?"

"Hajime, were you jealous?" You teased, giggling but your smirk is taken away when you feel his rough hand unclasp your bra, the other pulling your shirt up right above your breasts. Your sensitive skin exposed to the cold air causes your nipples to harden more than it needs to. Seeing this has blood rushing down to his cock as he flicks and tugs on your erect nipple, twisting it with the perfect pressure of his thumb and playing with your tits. Your head tips back with a moan, holding onto the kitchen counter for support while your husband ravages your body as he please.

Suddenly you feel his hot breath against your sensitive mounds. His lips wrap around your hardened nipple, sucking sensually producing lewd sounds from the wetness of your skin. His right hand continues to give attention to your left breast while he sucks on the other. You could feel Kashimo's calloused hand massaging your chest, the roughness of his thumb causing more friction against you as he twists and presses your nipple. God— his hands are too good. The man is skilled in pleasing you, he knows the perfect amount of pressure needed to have you over the edge.

Kashimo's free hand pushes your panties down, rubbing your already wet folds to get you prepped. He pushes a prodding finger against your walls, curling his finger just enough to hit the right spot. The sensation of his long finger abusing your sweet spot while his thumb circles your clit has you instinctively opening your legs further for more. Both his hands working you and his mouth sucking and lapping on your erect mounds already has you feeling like you're about to explode.

Your thighs shook in excitement as Kashimo's fingers slid inside of your already drenched cunt, and you moaned loudly, fingers scraping on the table under you with how your body is attacked by all this pleasure. Kashimo could feel your walls tighten around his digits. He knew whenever you needed to cum but as cruel as he is, Kashimo removes himself from your pussy, walls aching to release the familiar buildup in your abdomen.

You whined from the loss of sensation, feeling empty without him. "Hajime, why'd you st—"

He cuts you off, putting his pussy drenched finger inside of your mouth. "Lick it clean," His smooth, husky voice demanded. You couldn't deny how that turned you on more, sucking and lapping on your own juices off of his finger, making erotic sounds from it.

"There you go, see? Not so hard being a good little slut now right?"

He was enjoying the sight of your pretty lips wrapping his fingers, tasting yourself from it. Now his head was full of perverted thoughts on how you would look if you had your lips wrap his dick instead. If he had you sucking and choking on his fat cock.

Kashimo removes his finger from your mouth, too impatient to have you gagging on his dick. He kept his cyan eyes down on you while he licked his own fingers clean and it made you feel small and honestly inferior, submissive to him.

"Kneel down."

He had a mix of dominance and lust, greed hinted at the edge of his voice. You did as he said, kneeling down for your knees to take the weight while your face is in front of his crotch. Kashimo cupped his hand around the growing tent of his pants, rubbing it as his veins throbbed from the blood rushing south to his erection. "Go on. You know what to do," Kashimo had a smug smirk decorating his lips, eyeing down on you in front of him.

You gulped knowing what he wanted, the thought of his dick springing out of its restraints has you dripping wetter than before. Your hands pulled down on his pants slowly, earning a grunt from him at how you were taking your time in this. "Shit hun, stop teasing already," he grabbed a fistful of your hair and you moaned softly from how good it felt, forcing you to do as he say, rushing you more. Kashimo's left with his boxers on but you wanted to prolong your teasing. The tip of your tongue lapped at his clothed bulge leaving a damp spot, receiving labored breaths of sigh from him.

You continued your ministrations, licking his clothed shaft with the tip of your tongue like a needy slut until you yelped when he gently yanked on your hair, "what'd I say about teasing huh?" Your little fun of taking control was instantly stripped away when he forced you to stop. Pulling down the last of his restraints, his thick cock sprung out, tip leaking with precum.

Scrambling on your knees obediently, humiliation washed over you with your husband still gently grasping your hair. Kashimo's fingertip taps on his cock, smearing the pre-cum around the tip and then on your face.

"Pretty face would look better with my cock fucking into your mouth yeah?" He muses, moist tip rubbing up against your soft lips wanting to enter and just violate your face. You're practically drooling, tongue sticking out and he places his shaft flat onto it. You drag your tongue underneath him in a long and slow pace earning a low moan.

Your husband smoothly slides in his cock deep into your mouth, unprepared by his size even though you've already been married for years. You gagged a bit before adjusting to his length, drooling a bit onto his shaft and gripping on his thigh. His cock pushes through your lips, hitting the back of your throat while you try to breathe through your nose.

"Y'know you pissed me off. Just wanted to make me jealous huh?"

You couldn't respond. Cock deep in your mouth, you could only muffle in denial. It was true though, you didn't mean to make him jealous. What started off with you teasing him about it turned into him face fucking you. His smoothly styled cyan hair falls out of place, bangs sticking onto his face from the sweat forming on his forehead and his buns turning messy.

"Shouldn't my wife apologize? Use your big girl words and say you're sorry," the room resonates with his groans, his girth making it hard to breathe as you try and say sorry.

"Mmph- soh-wee—"

It was all you could say after all with a meaty cock in your mouth, nose brushing against his hair as he keeps you in place with the firm grip he has on your locks. A sadistic smirk curled onto Kashimo's lips as he watches, beginning to quicken up the pace. You hate and love how determined Kashimo is, once he sets his goal on something he'll do whatever it takes to achieve it. At this moment though, he's determined to have his wife deepthroating him.

The friction of each thrust has his dick tattooed in a darker red, grunting at the wet cave that's going to send him to heaven. His movements get sloppier and grow desperate, balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.

"Ah— fuck!" With a final thrust he spurts all his cum down your throat, pushing you right against him to keep you in place as his little cumdump and making sure to leave none behind. "Swallow," he demands, hot seed slides down your throat as you try and swallow while his dick is still in your mouth.

With a huff, Kashimo lets go of your abused throat to let you breathe. Gasping for air, your hand rubs your sore neck but you could see how his dick still stays standing despite how satisfied he was with jizzing in his wife's mouth.

Looking up at him, your husband's lips held the seductive smirk, palming on his wet, still-hard cock in front of you. Standing on his full height, he grabs your waist and pulls you up, laying your belly side on the kitchen counter behind you.

"You want this? Your pussy's drooling for my cock but you're not speaking clearly enough. I'm gonna need my little slut to speak. We can't have my wife suffering now can we?"

"Please.." you pleaded, his firm hand spanks your ass receiving a whine.

"Cute."

Kashimo slides inside with ease from how wet you were from your cancelled orgasm, cock stretching out your plush walls as your thighs shook in excitement. Moaning against your sleeve, you start fucking yourself on his dick. Kashimo doesn't hesitate in helping you, picking up the pace and fucking hard into your drenched cunt. You could feel every inch of his dick, pussy memorizing every pretty vein on him, how it feels like you two were made just for each other while his tip easily abuses your sensitive spot.

Your body glistens with sweat, shoulders littered with hickeys with Kashimo leaving bite marks on you, his teeth biting on your skin just hard enough to draw out pleasure without hurting you. You moaned as his fingers rubbed your clit in circles

Kashimo gets the perfect view of where your bodies are connected, every thrust from your squelching cunt creating a white ring of both your arousals. Your trembling legs were proof of how much you were enjoying it, toes curling and fingers gripping the smooth surface of the table with a muffled squeal.

"Fuck- gonna cum inside, gonna make you pregnant,"

He claws against your waist, the euphoria of him filling you up while your hardened nipples rubbed against the counter from each thrust's friction. Your mouth hung open but no noises escaped your pretty swollen lips. Kashimo loved the idea that his cock was making you feel so good that your brain couldn't even react to it all the while his tip kisses your womb with every push, hitting you in your fucked-out state.

"Can't even speak now? Wanna be a mommy huh? You like that idea?"

You tried reaching back to grab his arm, whimpering to signal that you were about to cum with the familiar coil tightening in your abdomen. Your husband leans down to give you kisses though they were more possessive than caring, giving sloppy french kisses with more tongue than lips. The sweat forming at your skin caused you to slide against the counter with every thrust, trying to grab on to anything for support.

The thought of your belly round with a baby and your fuller breasts being sensitive was enough for Kashimo to cum.

Teeth sinking into your neck to muffle his groans, his hot cum spilled inside of you making sure to paint every inch of your walls white. Spurts of his load fills your belly and he stays there cockwarming until it softens, pulling out.

Your husband's digits went down to spread your lower lips, watching how his cum oozed out of you. He curls his fingers to scoop up his orgasm and pushes it back into you, making sure his beloved wife is full of his hot seed.

"Hajime—"

"Sorry hun, I got too rough didn't I? I was just jealous but I'll make it up to you. I just love you so much," he plants a tender kiss on your back, massaging your sore hips.

Giggling at how he peppers soft kisses all over you, you reassure him. "It's okay, I had fun."

Chuckling, Kashimo nuzzles into your neck, still rubbing your sore flesh and promising to give you a full body massage.

"But hey, you'll make me such a happy daddy."

[sonotpattismith]

I'll Never Cross The Line. (ryomen sukuna x reader)

don't touch, I'll never cross the line, so I pushed you down a million times / if I don't try, then it's my loss- an inch away from more than just friends. word count: 11.2k (SORRY) warnings: bartender!sukuna au, suggestive content, 18+ a/n: This wasn't a request, just an idea I had inspired by Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan. I HIGHLY recommend listening to it to set the vibes. 😮‍💨

You know, maybe retail wouldn’t be the worst option. Sure, you would definitely make significantly less without the steady stream of tips, but surely it would be better than dealing with drunken groups of men every weekend, right? You’ll grow a backbone-- you’ll tell them to quit being assholes. Of course, that was about fifty tables ago, and you knew you would never have the nerve to stand up for yourself, much less piss off a table bad enough to leave you a shitty tip. So, you forced a smile and said ‘of course, I’ll have the bar remake this for you’, and, no, you wouldn’t say anything about the disgusting little nickname that continued to roll off their tongues at you. 

Gulping back the bile that rose in your throat at the feeling of their eyes on your ass as you walked away, you begrudgingly made your way to the bar. It had been almost a year since you had quit your cashier job in favor of something that could make you a little more money. It’s not that you hated your job, but you did wish you had a little more courage to stand up for yourself in instances like these that seemed to happen more and more as your hostess experience grew. In addition to having to suck up their complaints with your non-confrontational, fake smile, it didn’t help that the new bartender that was hired a few weeks back was even more terrifying than the belligerent men you were exchanging drinks for. 

Sukuna, you recalled another hostess saying his name was, never really did anything to warrant such fear from you, or any of the other staff for that matter, but his aura was definitely no sunshines and roses. He stood at a staggering height as he maneuvered nonchalantly behind the bar, intimidatingly bulking muscles flexing under his typical black t-shirt as he shook a drink over his shoulder. His face was littered in mysteriously intricate black tattoos that were complimented by the black studs in his ears. The man was fairly quiet, save for the rare occassions you’d hear his booming laughter echo throughout the dimly lit restaurant when chatting up a customer. Other than the rare small talk with some random customers that happened to catch his interest, Sukuna kept to himself. 

So, realistically, you shouldn’t be so scared to ask him to kindly remake these old fashions so that your table would stop bitching to you about how ‘watered down’ they were. Still, as his brooding figure grew closer and closer, you couldn’t stop the pounding in your chest. Shaky hands placed the three glasses onto the bar before him. His seemingly bored eyes looked down at the full glasses before darting back up to you with a raised brow. As if the dude couldn’t get more intimidating, you now noted with how close he was that his eyes were almost a deep ruby color. Who the fuck has red eyes? 

It was a moment of silent staring at one another before he noted you were too scared to open your mouth and spit out whatever the problem was. Sukuna was used to the timid looks by now. As far as he was concerned, it came with the tatted up, quiet, and large territory. Most of the hosts and hostesses seemed to want to keep their distance from him, but he never took it personally. 

“Problem with the drinks?” 

“Um.. well, I’m sure you made them fine, but…” You chewed on your bottom lip apprehensively, trying to figure out how to not make it sound like you didn’t think he knew how to do his job. His marked up face remained neutral, towel drying a glass in the meantime as he awaited your explanation. You glanced over your shoulder to the offending table, cursing under your breath when you noted they were looking back at you and whispering to each other as if asking ‘what the fuck the hold up was for’. Quickly turning to face Sukuna again, you were unsure which party you were more intimidated by. He had followed your gaze already though, regarding the group of men with an unimpressed expression. Opening your mouth to explain before you pissed either off even more, the bartender cut you off. 

“Those assholes giving you a hard time?”

Your mouth hung open like a fish for a moment, and a glimmer of hope sparked in you. Closing your mouth, you grasped the edge of the bar and desperately leaned closer to him. 

“Yes, they’re total creeps, and they keep saying that you watered down their drinks, and I know you probably didn’t, but they’ve been bitching at me for like ten minutes. So if you could please just remake them, I would forever be in your debt.”

Sukuna stared down at you throughout your desperate, breathless explanation, and you could swear you saw just a glimmer of amusement behind those intense eyes. Without a word, he brought one of the abandoned glasses up to his lips to try it. Licking his lips boredly, he shook his head. 

“Doesn’t taste watered down to me. Does it taste watered down to you?” In an instant, he was holding the drink up to your lips. Already flustered at the predicament you were in, you hesitantly took a small sip, cringing as the bitter liquid hit your tongue. The man before you hummed in question, setting the glass back down between you. 

“Uh… I don’t really drink anything that doesn’t come with a little umbrella in it. So, maybe I’m not the best person to judge?”

A small, amused smile graced his lips, and, in just that second, the new bartender appeared far less intimidating than you previously believed him to be. Shaking his head, he grabbed the glasses and emptied them into the drains, moving to begin remaking the drinks. Usually, he would have sent the drinks right back to the table with a scoff, but it wasn’t too busy at the moment, what with everyone’s eyes glued to the game playing on the screen above him, and he had a feeling you would combust on the spot if you had to return the same, unaltered drinked to the group of degenerates that had been oogling you since you walked up to his bar. 

“I’ll remake ‘em, but do something for me, will ya?” 

You leaned forward, watching the muscles beneath his tight shirt flex with each calculated movement he made. In your head, you were practically floating through air knowing you were dodging the bitch-out you had been positive he was going to give you about bothering him with such a thing. You glanced up at him in question as he began pouring the mixed drink into the three, clean glasses he had set in front of you. 

“Tell ‘em if they don’t stop acting like a bunch of lowlives, you’ll spit in the damn drinks next time.” 

Your eyes widened at his proposal. His brow quirked up in challenge as he pushed the drinks forward. Nodding his chin toward the table, he urged you on. 

“Go on, I wanna see their faces.” 

“I-I can’t say that, Sukuna…” You refused, shaking your head with a nervous chuckle.

“Why not? You the type that lets assholes walk all over you?”

“Well,” You blushed furiously in embarrassment, wishing you could defend yourself against his accusations. He was right though; you should grow more of a backbone. The other hostesses, while they knew how to pick their battles, seemed to have no problem putting their foot down to disrespectful customers like these. You had been like that for as long as you could remember, not speaking up unless spoken to, and certainly not speaking up when you were being spoken against. “No, but I’m the type that at least wants a good tip if I’ve had to put up with borderline harassment for two hours.”

As if on cue, your table hollered at you with a low whistle to question what was taking you so long. Grasping the glasses between your fingers, his large hand quickly stopped you, taking the drinks from you. Your eyes widened in horror as he moved to step out from behind the bar, nodding to a customer that he’d be with them in a minute. From outside his usual post, the large man appeared that much taller as you came face to face with his broad chest. 

“I’ll do it then.” 

If there was one thing Sukuna couldn’t stand-- it was weak people. Even more so, the people that were so weak they prayed on the smaller people, the kind that were too nice to do anything about it. Sure, it pissed him off that you wouldn’t stand up for yourself, but that was a problem for another time. At the present, there was a table of three drunk men calling the nice, sparkly eyed young waitress over like a dog. Not only that, they had already pissed him off by making him redo the perfectly fine drinks he’d finished not even five minutes ago. 

He felt a pair of small hands grasp desperately at his bicep as he moved to deliver the fresh set of drinks. For a moment, you felt intimidated once again as he glared down at you. Without a word, you quickly released him, deciding the dock in your tip was a better fate than whatever was lurking behind that terrifying glare. Chewing anxiously at your fingernails, you watched with bated breath as Sukuna approached the table, slamming the drinks down in front of them. You almost wished you could hear what he was saying to them-- what with the way their faces morphed before the six-foot something beast standing threateningly in front of them. If you weren’t so fucking anxious, you would have laughed. 

Before you knew it, he was making his way back behind the bar with that nonchalant expression back on his face. You stared incredulously up at him in question. 

“Well?”

“Don’t worry, doll. They’re gonna be real nice to you the rest of the night.”

And they were. You weren’t sure what the bartender said to them, or threatened them with, but they were saying please, thank you, and calling you ma’am the rest of the night. Hell, they’d even still left you a decent tip. For the weeks that followed, you regarded the bartender a bit more comfortably-- greeting him with an appreciative smile each time he came in, making sure to wave goodbye to him on the nights you clocked out before him. He was still quiet and reserved, but would engage in the occasional small talk with you when you’d bounce over to him with a bar order. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks after that incident that you found yourself actually requesting his… services again. There had been a few instances when you considered getting the big, scary bartender to come set your table straight for you, but the last thing you wanted to do was annoy him when he was busy enough as it was. This night though, the family before you damn near had you in tears by the time they were done with you. It started with an incorrect substitution, which, okay yeah, that fuck up was on you, but you apologized profusely and even offered to comp the entree for them. It all only went downhill after that though, and you had already been called incompetent, useless, and bimbo all in the span of an hour. 

So, as you tentatively approached the bar that didn’t seem all too busy at the moment, you just felt like that much more of an idiot. Sukuna was speaking casually with a customer as he screwed off the top of a fresh beer bottle and handed it to him. He leaned against the counter, too engrossed in his conversation to notice the timid waitress anxiously awaiting him to finish talking. His ruby eyes drifted absentmindedly to where you were standing, doing a double take when he saw your flushed cheeks and wringing hands. 

As he excused himself from the conversation and walked toward you, you silently set an already half-drank piña colada on the counter. He regarded it with a scoff, nodded up at you in question. 

“What’s with the face? You look like someone killed your puppy.”

“Table three says that you made this a virgin.” 

“And they only noticed after drinking damn near the entire thing? I can smell the rum from here. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

You glanced up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, praying he’d get the hint and go straighten them out for you so you didn’t have to deal with it the rest of the night. Catching on to your puppy-dog eyes, he quickly shook his head, pushing the drink toward you. 

“Uh-uh,” He refused, and your shoulders dropped in disappointment. “I ain’t always gonna be here. You gotta grow a pair, doll.” 

For a moment, you thought he was completely brushing you off when he walked back over to the wall of liquor behind him. After snatching a low level, glass bottle off the shelf along with a shot glass, he made his way back over to you and filled the tiny cup. He shoved it forward and jutted his chin at you. You stared incredulously at him. 

“Go on, take it.” Sukuna urged, resting his elbows on the counter and leaning closer to you. His ruby eyes stared at you with an intensity that was almost making you forget how shitty that table was making your night. “Drink that, then I want you to waltz your pretty ass back over to those degenerates and tell them if they wanted a double then they should have asked you for one before you rung it up.” 

“B-But… they--” You stumbled over your words, not anticipating this turn of events. Hell, you figured he would just have to glare over at them and that would scare them enough to stop fucking with you for the night. His brows rose challengingly at you. 

“I ain’t makin’ anymore of your drinks till you do it.” 

When you continued gaping at him apprehensively, he picked up the shot glass with one hand and grasped your chin with the other. A furious blush spread across your cheeks as you tipped your head back in tandem with his fingers’ urging push. The bitter liquid ran down your throat, burning all the way down to your stomach. You sputtered pathetically as he released his grip on your chin and placed the forgotten piña colada back in your hand with a devilish, yet encouraging smile. Nodding dumbly as you wiped the remaining alcohol from your chin, you turned back around to head toward the table, your fingers trembling with each step. 

Sukuna felt his chest swell with pride as he watched the family’s face contort in shock at the timid waitress finally standing her ground. Cackling shortly in amusement, he shook his head and moved to clean your leftover shotglass.

You were absolutely buzzing as you walked cooly away from the stunned table, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the shot Sukuna had practically forced down your throat, or the thrill of having actually stuck up for yourself for once. With an excited beam, you bounced back over to the bar as soon as you had finished checking up on your other tables. Your smile slowly faded upon seeing that the man you were looking for wasn’t there. 

“Hey, where’s Sukuna?” You asked your coworker who had seemingly taken over as bartender for the time being. He appeared slightly flustered trying to figure out the mixes of certain drinks. Glancing up at you absentmindedly, he nodded toward the back, muttering something about a smoke break. Without thought, you made your way through the kitchen and out the back door. 

The man in question was leaning against the brick wall, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he typed out a message on his phone. You suddenly wondered if you were bothering him by coming out here during his break. It was too late though, and he was already looking up from his phone at the sound of the door opening. Timidly, you slid out from the crack of the door, attempting to find that excitement that had led you out here in the first place. 

“Well?” He questioned, removing the cigarette from his lips and puffing a cloud of smoke out the side of his mouth. You watched as he slid his phone into his back pocket and easily pushed himself off the wall to approach you. Something about his sudden, undivided attention made you forget your shy nature all together, that eager smile lighting up your face once again. 

“You should’ve seen their faces!” You giggled energetically up at the man who somehow looked even scarier under the dim lighting of the back alley. 

“I did see ‘em. I told you, assholes like that only shit on you so much cause you let ‘em.” Sukuna smiled amusedly at the excitement clearly ripping through you, ruffling a hand through your hair. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” You mused, fixing your now frazzled hair before sighing and leaning back against the wall. “I’m definitely not getting a tip though.”

The man beside you scoffed before flicking his cigarette to the ground, smushing it carelessly under his heavy, black boot. 

“What are you so damn worked up over your tips for anyway?” He questioned with an annoyed expression, recalling that being the excuse the last time you refused to confront your less-than respectful table.

You looked down at the ash left behind under his boot, shrugging nonchalantly before glancing back up at him with a shy smile. 

“Oh, I’m saving up the tuition for a program I really wanna get into.” You explained, light pink dusting your cheeks. He hummed gravely beside you, regarding you silently. “Almost there, too. The sooner the better, y’know?”

It had been silent for a beat too long, and you were suddenly very aware of his intense, unwavering gaze on you. His head leaned against the brick wall as he stared down at you thoughtfully. Your head span a bit under the pressure, seemingly trapped within his shadow. 

“What about you?” You squeaked out, desperate to break the unexplainable tension that had risen between you. He quirked a brow at you. “Y’know, why are you working here?”

You sighed in relief when his eyes drifted to the side pensively. It was almost impossible to think clearly with those intoxicating ruby eyes bearing into your soul as if he meant to rip it out and eat it. 

“Told my brat nephew I’d stay outta trouble if he got into college.” Sukuna explained, casting a sidelong glance your way as he crossed his bulky arms over his chest. As you watched him now, you noted that the designs that defined his face and arms were also poking out the neckline of his shirt, and you wondered if he was completely covered in them. A small smirk tugged at his lips upon noticing your stare, but he didn’t mention it. “He’s a smart kid. Helluva’ lot smarter than I ever was, anyway.”

Warmth spread in your chest at the way he spoke so fondly of his nephew, even if it was in his own, guarded way. It made you want to learn more about him. The longer you spoke to him, the more you realized all those assumptions you’d held about him were quite possibly completely false. Maybe it was guilt that had you digging for more-- at least that’s what you would tell yourself. 

“What kind of trouble were you getting yourself into, Sukuna?” You pressed teasingly, but the dark, guarded smile that fell upon his lips told you that you probably shouldn’t have asked. Leaning down till his face was a mere centimeters away from yours, he tutted. 

“You don’t really wanna know the answer to that, doll.” He whispered challengingly at you, revelling in the way your cheeks lit up under his gaze. It wasn’t very nice of him, he knew that; you were that shy, bubbly type that never had a chip on your shoulder-- the kind that you couldn’t really joke around with cause you were too gullible to tell the difference. Sukuna just couldn’t help himself though, he found himself wanting to test you, to break you out of that shell. His eyes dropped to your lips, the ones that were currently being abused between your anxious teeth. Reaching up to cup your chin, his thumb gently pulled the irritated, plump skin to safety. 

“I have a boyfriend.” You quickly stammered out, heart pounding against your chest. In the back of your mind, you knew you probably should have said something earlier, but there was just something so alluring about the mysterious aura that shrouded him. 

He paused, an amused smile lighting up his face once again as he allowed his hand to drop from your chin as he backed up a respectable amount. 

“‘Course ya’ do.” He laughed lightheartedly, running a hand through his pink hair that had become tousled with the wind. “Shoulda’ started with that. I wouldn’t have been so damn nice to ya’.”

A surprised expression struck your face, words getting stuck in your throat. 

“C’mon, I’m just fucking with ya’.” He laughed again, shoving gently at your shoulder as he began walking back toward the door of the kitchen. Slowly, you began laughing too. He was sending you on a rollercoaster of emotions you could barely keep up with, but he did it so effortlessly it was as if it was second nature to him. “Geez, you were gonna let me get away with that one too, huh? Hope you don’t let your little boyfriend walk all over you like that.” 

Despite the teasing undertones in his voice, he was seriously thinking about what you’d allow from a partner if you let him and all the lowlife customers throw you around like a ragdoll without complaint. Looking down at your shoes, you let that comment slide with a shake of your head. Quickly trying to collect your thoughts, you followed him as he opened the door for you. 

“So, you’re trying to stay out of trouble.” You recounted, desperately trying to change the subject. He hummed in acknowledgement as he made his way back behind the bar, nodding to your coworker who appeared eternally grateful to put down the drink he was making and allowing Sukuna to take over. “Why bartending then?”

“Why? Think I could’ve made it in insurance?” He quipped with a knowing smirk, watching you shrink down, not wanting to answer his question for fear of offending him. The man shook his head, placing the now finished drink down on a napkin for the customer beside you. “No mornings, decent pay. Probably easier than whatever the hell they got you doing.”

You hummed in thought, watching him expertly pour a round of shots to place on one of the host’s awaiting trays. Sighing tiredly, you looked around at your tables, noting you’ve probably already been away for too long. Brushing the hair from your face, you grabbed your notepad from your apron to get back to work. 

“You should let me train you back here.” Sukuna suddenly suggested, not looking away from his concentrated mixing to see your shocked expression. “Don’t gotta be running around all day, rack up helluva’ lot more tips too, ‘specially with a face like yours. Have the money for your school crap in no time.”

You blinked up at him when he finally turned to face you. 

“The boss probably wants more help on the floor.” You explained dejectedly, despite the hope still hidden in your tone at the prospect. 

Sukuna tutted dismissively with a roll of his eyes.

“I’ll talk to ‘em. Asshole’s scared of me anyway.”

He wasn’t sure why he was doing so much for you. After all, when he had fulfilled his end of his promise to Yuji and gotten himself a real job, he said he’d keep to himself. People pissed him off too much, and they usually had a bad impression of him anyway upon first meeting. It was easier, and less obnoxious, for him to allow their imaginations to run wild about what could be lurking under that quiet, brooding persona of his. Maybe it was that beam of sunshine personality that reminded him so much of his damn nephew, or maybe it was that ambition to keep on getting bitched at everyday just so you could make it through school. It was admirable, that type of determination. 

Either way, the excited expression that washed over your face softened his hard-ass heart just a little. So, when you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck from across the counter, he let you, hoping damn well he knew what he was getting himself into. 

For the coming weeks, you came in an extra shift each week to train with Sukuna behind the bar. He taught you the basic drinks all bartenders should know, the various terms that would likely be tossed your way that you’d be expected to recognize, the sanitary procedures. Surprisingly, the monstrous looking man was actually quite patient with you when you made seemingly stupid mistakes. Sure, he’d tease you endlessly over the time you asked him what kind of alcohol went into a shirley temple, but he certainly didn’t get pissed off as easily as you thought he would. 

Even on your regular floor shifts, you found yourself gravitating toward the bar during your downtime under the guise of watching what he was doing. Truthfully though, you had become a bit attached to the way the brooding giant was clearly warming up to you. Despite his previous insistence on you learning to hold your own against bitchy customers, he was always the first to swoop in when a drunken customer’s voice got a little too loud for his liking. Sukuna made you drinks without your having to ask (non-alcoholic on shift, of course, though you wouldn’t be surprised if he snuck a shot or two into a couple of them after a particularly grueling shift). 

You attempted to press further about whatever the hell it was that he was doing before becoming a bartender, but he was always quick to dismiss the question with a guarded joke or roll of his ruby eyes. While you were kind enough to change the subject each time, there were certain times when he seriously made you wonder about his past life. Today, for example, when you were working the floor and came to drop off an order with him with your usual, peppy smile. 

“What’s with the pigtails? You in fucking grade school or something?” Sukuna questioned with a scoff, flicking one of the strands between his fingers. You grinned shyly, twirling your hair with sudden apprehension. 

“No, they’re…” That typical red hue flooded your cheeks again, and he was beginning to find the color synonymous with you in his mind. He raised a questioned brow at you, and you looked down at the counter. “They’re supposed to get you more tips, y’know?”

Something about that prospect unsettled something deep within the pits of his stomach. Not hiding the way his top lip twitched up in disgust, he glanced down at the ticket you handed him before getting to work. 

“And is it working?” 

“So far, so good, captain!” You beamed with a mock salute, bending over the counter to whisper your night’s total thus far into his ear. He whistled lowly, shaking his head in disbelief. His lips parted to make a snide remark about the kinds of creeps that frequented this restaurant, but he was cut off when one of the aforementioned creeps hollered out to you something alluding to your captain comment from earlier. Sukuna couldn’t hear it though-- not over the sound of the distinct smack of the man’s hand on your ass. You quickly straightened your posture, cursing yourself for remaining bent over in such a way to invite such unwanted behavior. 

Before you could turn your head to face the offender though, Sukuna’s intimidatingly large form was hopping over the bar with an ease you would have assumed impossible for someone so bulky. You yelped out in surprise when you were pushed back, watching in horror as the bartender grasped onto the back of the man’s shirt with vigor and dragged him out the front door. 

“Sukuna--”

“Stay here.” 

You had no choice but to comply with his barked order, because in an instant, a crowd had formed around the door to watch the incident with bated breath. Part of you wanted to push through the crowd to either see what the hell he was doing to the man, or to attempt to stop him before he got himself into trouble. A larger part of you, like most of the time when it came to this infuriatingly guarded man, wondered if you really even wanted to know. There wasn’t much time for you to ponder on this decision though, because just a short two minutes later, he was bursting through the front doors once again, shooing everyone back to their tables in aggravation. 

Without so much as a word, he walked back behind the bar and took a shocked customer’s order. You awaited as he finished the interaction, staring at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. As if sensing he could no longer ignore you, he looked back up at you nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just leaped over the very counter he was standing behind like a bat out of hell. 

“Asshole said he’s sorry, by the way.” Sukuna huffed out, clearing a few empty glasses from the bar. Looking down at his hands as he quietly gathered up cups, you noticed his red, split knuckles. 

“Sukuna…” You began, but you weren’t sure where it was going. One part of you was touched that he would stand up for you in such a way without hesitation. While you would have preferred he hadn’t gone to such… extreme measures though, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t found the whole thing, after the fact, extremely attractive. You shook your head quickly, dismissing those thoughts from your wandering mind. You were in a relationship, after all. In the midst of all the excitement though, you were beginning to draw your own, new, more informed conclusions about the bartender. “What was it that you said you did before this?”

He made you wait until he was on another smoke break to explain himself to you. You both sat, squatted on the ground of that back alley as he blew his smoke away from you, looking up at the flickering, fluorescent light above you two. 

“You… you were a hitman?” 

“C’mon, now you’re giving me too much credit, doll.” 

Your mind whirled with this new information, but, to be fair, you had already come to a similar conclusion just an hour prior when you watched him drag a full grown man out of the restaurant with ease. Chuckling half-heartedly at your wide eyed expression, he continued with a sigh. 

“I got paid to scare some dudes off. Didn’t kill nobody. Just… roughed ‘em up a little, y’know? Debt collectors, landlords, weirdo boyfriends. Paid good. Got Yuji through school.”

“Yuji?” You questioned, peering up at him curiously. Suddenly recalling your previous conversation about his reasons for being here, you continued. “Your nephew, right?”

He nodded firmly, a fond smile on his face. 

“His folks didn’t have the money to send him to college. I didn’t want him to end up like me. So… whatever paid the bills, know what I’m saying, doll?” His eyes shifted to peer at you with a sidelong glance. Even without direct contact, his eyes sent shivers down your spine. 

You nodded softly, a small smile gracing your own lips. 

“You're kind of a badass uncle, Sukuna.” You teased, playfully bumping your shoulder into his. His boisterous laughter bounced off the walls of the dark alley before he shook his head dismissively. “Pretty cool if you ask me.”

“What? Your man boring or something?”

For a moment, your mind short-curcuited again in the way Sukuna was so good at doing. You pondered his question for a moment, shyly looking down at your feet. 

“I mean, he’s no ass-beating vigilante if that’s what you’re wondering.” This made the man beside you chuckle at your perception of his past occupation. 

“How long ‘ya been together?”

“Seven years.” 

A low whistle echoed in your ears, and Sukuna snatched your left hand from its place on your knee to inspect your fingers. 

“No ring?” He scoffed, setting your hand back down with a smirk. “You seem like the type.” The joking nature in his tone helped to disguise the fact that he felt someone had just taken a knife to his testicles. When you told him you had a boyfriend, he figured it was a short thing, something that would pass eventually, and maybe he’d get a chance to swoop in soon. Seven years though? He was starting to feel as though he may have been holding out hope for nothing. 

“He’s finishing school first.” You defended deftly.

“Yeah? What’s he gettin’ his degree in? How to fumble 101?” 

You couldn’t even try to suppress the amused smile that fought its way onto your lips. The truth was, your relationship hadn’t been the same for a while now, and, by a while, you meant a few years. The two of you had been highschool sweethearts. So, when you graduated, it almost just seemed right to continue the still budding relationship. It was fairly textbook, graduating together, moving into your first, modest apartment with one another, but things quickly became very routine. 

It’s not that he was a bad guy per say, but sometimes you felt as though you were the only one trying to keep that spark alive. Granted, he was a busy man, what with his graduate program and internship taking up most of his time, but even on his free days, he was often either holed up in front of his computer or with his friends. The stress of all his responsibilities had definitely been catching up to him. When you tried to confront him about the way you barely even felt like friends anymore, let alone lovers, he was far too irritable to hold a conversation with about it. 

Sukuna watched you get lost in thought, and he wondered if he’d crossed a line. Throwing on a casual smile, he bumped your shoulder as you had just done to him. 

“Hey, all I’m sayin’ is if you get tired of waitin’, I’m next in line, ya’ hear?” Deep down though, he wasn’t joking, and you knew it too. Despite this, you chuckled along with him and shook your head. You stopped him with a hand around his large wrist as he moved to stand. 

“Thank you, by the way.” You said sincerely, being selfish in the way you allowed yourself to drink in the manner in which the dim lighting hit his dark features. He looked like he was crafted with a magical pick to cater specifically to each of your hidden desires. “For… roughing that guy up for me.”

For the first time, the smile that graced his lips wasn’t teasing, or sarcastic, it was genuine. It made him look far softer than his harsh appearance let on, and you wanted nothing more than for him to look at you with such care forever. Reaching up to grasp the back of your neck, you tensed a bit as he pulled you forward. His warm lips only pressed against your temple though, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or not. As he pulled away from you, he ruffled your hair. 

“Anything for my favorite girl. Now take your hair out those damn pigtails.”

Safe to say, you never tried that little tip-grabbing trick again. Well, except, you attempted it just once more. It was a week when your shifts had been slower than normal, so you were a little desperate. All it took was one pointed glare from your favorite bartender, and you were making a beeline to the bathroom to take them out. After the last week though, you didn’t have to worry about it so much since you finally began taking over some shifts as a bartender with your newfound training. 

Sukuna was right, the influx of tips you recieved as a bartender was incomparable to what you were pulling in on the floor. The only downside to this arrangement was that they never scheduled two bartenders at the same time, so you didn’t see your mentor as much as you once did. Maybe it was for the best though, because your sudden, schoolgirl crush on the man that you swore was just a workplace fantasy, was beginning to bleed into your own relationship. 

You found yourself comparing your boyfriend to him each chance you got. It wasn’t fair- you knew that- comparing him to a man he didn’t even know existed. So, you tried to bring it up to him. Of course, you didn’t bring up your incredibly attractive, overwhelmingly cool, and strong coworker who had made it very clear that he was into you. You did ask him if he could be a little more attentive when you would tell him about your day, leaving out the way Sukuna would completely ignore customers until you finished whatever story you were babbling to him about your current tables, his chin propped up on his fist in feigned boredom. In addition, you pleaded with him to take himself a little less seriously than he had been since beginning his internship, not mentioning the way Sukuna let you paint his nails black in the breakroom after you joked about how it would complete the edge-lord look he had going on. 

Each time though, you were shut down. Even more mortifyingly so, you had been branded as the ‘nagging girlfriend’, and although you tried desperately not to, you took it to heart. You were more hesitant with the manner in which you’d even ask what he wanted for dinner, worried he may snap back at you the way he’d done that night. It felt as though you were back in front of those difficult customers, too afraid to stand up for yourself and your expectations as you knew deep down you should have. 

So, when you walked into your shift that day, tying your apron around your waist since you’d picked up to work on the floor tonight after a desperate call from your manager, your breath hitched when you saw that familiar presence behind the bar. Biting back a smile lest you appear too excited, you moved to punch in. From across the room, he caught your eye, his bicep flexing as he maneuvered the shaker aggressively over his shoulder, and his movements faltered for just a second. It was long enough for you to notice though. His blinding white canines shone under the light as he flashed you a wolfish grin. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you went about your shift. It wasn’t until your third table that someone finally ordered a drink from the bar, and you had an excuse to make your way over. He was busy with another customer. The restaurant was fairly packed tonight, but you figured that much when your boss practically begged you to come in. Waiting patiently on the side, you noted with a fond smile that he still had that chipped, black polish on his nails from when you painted them about a week or two ago. 

“If it isn’t my replacement.” Sukuna tutted as he finally made his way over to you. He slid a shirley temple over to you, something he had begun doing every shift since your little hiccup behind the bar. Unable to hold back your grin, you popped the cherry still floating at the top between your teeth, humming in satisfaction. Leaning against the counter, he tilted his head at you in amusement. You didn’t miss the way he dragged his eyes down your face appreciatively. “Heard you’re becoming a fan favorite, doll. How’s that tuition fund coming along?”

“Piggy bank’s almost full, Kuna-Kuna.” You informed with a beam that had his hard heart melting. If he wasn’t so engrossed in the way you smiled so sweetly at him, he would have been just a tad bit mortified that anyone else would hear that nickname you had given him. Despite that, he didn’t have the heart to tell you to quit calling him that in front of people. “Even submitted my application last week.”

“Yeah?” He smiled proudly at you, drinking in the way you were looking at him like he put the stars in the sky. You nodded softly, taking a sip from your drink in hopes it would cool the heat rising in you. Leaning in closer to you as if he had a secret, he winked at you. “Shoulda told me earlier. Would’ve made it a dirty shirley.” 

You would be lying if you said your shifts didn’t flow a lot more smoothly when Sukuna was there with you. Whether it be the pick-me-up drinks mid shift, or the teasing banter each time you set down another ticket for him, he brought a blinding excitement to your days that were noticeably darker when he wasn’t around. Then again, he couldn’t stop all misfortunes from coming your way. 

You waved a quick goodbye to him and the remaining host as you punched out of your shift, a fond smile seemingly stuck permanently on your face as you got into your car that night. As you turned the key in the ignition, the car sputtered pathetically before turning back off. With furrowed brows, you attempted it again, only to get a shorter, more concerning response from your barely-hanging-on vehicle. Groaning softly, you banged your head gently against the wheel. A frightened gasp escaped you as you unintentionally honked the horn. Cursing under your breath, you sent a quick text to your boyfriend explaining your predicament. 

Talk about timing :( You okay to call an Uber? I’ve got an exam tomorrow I’m in the middle of cramming for. 

A small lump began to form in the back of your throat as you read his message. Realistically speaking, there was no problem with you calling an Uber to come get you, but, in combination with all the rest of the shortcomings that have been popping up in your lackluster relationship as of late, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the dread of it all. You thought about what your future might look like, and what you wanted so desperately for it to look like. A tear slipped down your cheek, and you suddenly felt as though you were mourning the loss of how your highschool self envisioned yourself-- your relationship, your self worth. 

A sharp rap on your window had you gasping out in between your quiet sobs. Looking up, Sukuna’s large head was peering in through your window, his eyebrows pulled together in a way that made him look absolutely terrifying. You shook your head at him, waving dimissively as you tried to quickly wipe your tear-stained cheeks. His expression deadpanned, and he only knocked again, more purposefully this time. Sighing in exasperation, you hesitantly rolled your window down. 

“The fuck are you crying for?” He asked before the window was even all the way down. Your abrupt change in mood almost gave him whiplash, seeing as you were all sunshines and roses as you closed the restaurant alongside him just a few minutes ago. 

“Nothing--”

“Oh, don’t bullshit me.”

You dropped your head into your hands, another sob forcing its way up and out your throat. Sniffling pathetically, you mumbled into your palms. 

“My car won’t start.”

It was silent for a beat as he assessed the situation with an exasperated expression. He wasn’t buying it. 

“Your car won’t start…” he questioned as if asking if he was following along correctly, to which you nodded, still unable to face him. “So you’re boo-hoo crying in the parking lot?” You hummed in agreement to his words, not caring how pathetic it made you sound. Anything as long as you didn’t have to explain the shambles your relationship was currently in. “Your man can come get you though, right? Not the end of the world, doll.” 

Your silence made him lean in closer, prying your hands from your soaked face. Now forced to face him, there was a look of defeat on your broken face that made him want to beat your boyfriend’s ass to a stone-cold pulp. 

“He’s… he’s got a big test tomorrow.”

He tried to bite back his irritation at your poor attempt at an excuse, but he couldn’t help the way he sucked his teeth and took an extentive breath out to calm his temper. Casting a forlorn glance to the side before taking one more look at your once sweet face littered with pain, he reached in to unlock the door and then swung it open. 

“C’mon,” Sukuna urged as gently as he could, grabbing your arm to help you out of the car as you stared at him in question. “I’m taking your sorry ass home.” 

“No, Sukuna, I’m ordering an Uber. It’s--”

“Like hell you are, it’s almost midnight. Let’s go.”

Before you could protest further, your car door was being shut behind you, and he was walking you toward his bike. Turning toward you, he wiped at your tears haphazardly before placing his bulky helmet over your head. 

“What about you?” You questioned with a still shaking voice as you watched him mount the bike with no protection. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’m already dumb as rocks. Gotta protect that brain of yours so you can get into your program, yeah?”

You were grateful for the heavy contraption covering your head so he didn’t see the small smile that sliced through your previously pitiful expression. He nodded for you to get on. Grasping his shoulder for support, you carefully slid on behind him. The warmth of his back set you ablaze as your body slid forward to meet his. You nervously wiped the palms of your hands on your jeans as he started the motorcycle, the roar of the machine rumbling in your sensitive ears. 

His head tilted back to look at you with a raised brow. Pink hair rippled gracefully in the wind in the most picturesque way as he smirked at you. 

“You gonna hang on, or should I let you fly off as soon as this thing takes off?”

With a thick gulp, you leaned forward in an attempt to grasp at his hips in a way that could ensure you maintain your composure throughout the ride. He tutted softly, grabbing your wrists and wrapping your arms firmly around his waist, shoving your cold hands into the pockets of his jacket. As he took off, the rumbling of the bike beneath you did nothing to help your flustered state. Against your frigid fingers, you could feel the taut muscles of his prominent abs flexing as he leaned forward on the motorcycle. 

It took everything in him to concentrate on the road before him. As he felt your small fingers timidly exploring the expanse of his abdomen in a way you surely thought was subtle, the task at hand was proving increasingly difficult. And yeah, maybe he did speed up just a little bit to feel you tighten your arms around him. God, he could have moaned at the feeling. Some primal urge deep within him wanted to pull this bike over and tell you that you didn’t have to act so shy, he’d let you touch him anywhere your pretty little heart desired. What he’d give to have you explore all of him with those small, timid hands of yours.  

Sukuna had to clear his throat as he rolled up in front of your apartment complex. For a minute, you both just sat there, allowing each other to be so close for just a minute longer. You wondered if he could feel your heart pounding against his back. In the end, you were the first to pull away, wrangling the heavy helmet off your head. As you did this, he maneuvered off the bike with ease, only to grasp his large hands over your waist to lift you off and onto the ground. Unnecessary, but a little showing off never hurt anyone, right? 

“Thank you, Kuna, really.” You mumbled as he took the helmet from your hands and settled it on the bike. You were peering up at him through your lashes, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were begging him to kiss you. Hell, maybe you were, but he knew deep down that’s not a line you would be able to live with yourself if you crossed. Still, you reached up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. It took everything in him not to lift you up and just take you home with him right then. So, he swallowed the feeling of sand running down his throat and opted to press a soft, safe kiss against your temple. 

As you reluctantly pulled away from the now overly familiar and comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smoke that clung to him, you smiled softly as you began walking away. You turned upon hearing footsteps behind you, following you. 

“What… are you doing?”

“I’m taking you up to your apartment, the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” He stated obviously. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t…” Your words drifted upon seeing the challenging look that settled over his face. Picking anxiously at your fingernails, you found it within you to continue. “It’s just-- I don’t want my…”

“You don’t want your boyfriend to see that someone else took his girlfriend home since he apparently had something better to do?” Sukuna guessed, that familiar irritation creeping up in his chest, and he had to tell himself to cool it. You could only nod dumbly. “Yeah? Well I ain’t fucking scared of him. I’m walking ya’ to your damn apartment.”

With the finality in his tone, you had no choice but to allow him to trail menacingly behind you all the way up to your apartment door. The blood was rushing in your ears with anxiety, and you hoped he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you unlocked the door. Sukuna stood in the hallway outside, but that didn’t prevent your boyfriend, who was sat on the edge of the couch alongside his friends with a card game sprawled out on the table, from seeing the intimidatingly large, tatted up man who’d just seemingly dropped off his girlfriend through the crack of the door. His brows furrowed at the sight, his imagination running a mile a minute, and he slowly stood up from the couch. 

God, in all his years being paid to rock the shit out of some seriously sketch people, Sukuna had never wanted to knock the teeth out of someone so badly. The dude was approaching the door as if he was really going to try something, and the bartender almost actually laughed at the thought of him trying. Before he had the chance to get questioned by your pussy-ass looking boyfriend, you had quickly shut the door in his face after muttering one last thank you. 

You sighed shakily as you locked the apartment door. Without the looming threat of Sukuna causing a scene about what had transpired that night, you were able to take in the sight before you. His friends, the card game, the drinks surrounding them. Your brows furrowed. 

“Who was that guy?” You heard your boyfriend question skeptically, but you were shaking your head in disbelief. Ignoring him all together, along with his friends that waved to you in greeting, you pushed past him to get to your shared room. “Hey!”

You attempted to shut the door in his face, just wanting to be alone for the night to process that your boyfriend just ditched you to play cards with his friends, and, worst of all, he lied to you about it. The door quietly shut behind him as he slid into the room, that suspicious look still everpresent on his face as if you were the guilty one here. 

“Babe, who was that guy out there?” He asked again. His voice was level, but you could hear those undertones of fierce defensiveness-- the kind you hated feeding into. You wanted to brush him off, tell him he was just a coworker of yours, and that he should get back to his friends who were waiting for him. In the back of your head though, you could hear Sukuna’s gravelly voice.

Assholes like that only shit on you so much cause you let ‘em

That night, for the first time in your seven year relationship, you let your boyfriend have it. You stood up for yourself, and you confronted him about lying to you, about not being decent enough to come make sure his girlfriend was okay when her car broke down in the middle of the night, about how you’ve turned into someone he only seems to be annoyed with. It was the first and last time you had ever stood up to him. When you came to work the next afternoon, you were almost an hour late, but you had two duffel bags worth of your things in the back of your Uber. 

As you pushed in through the double doors, you kept your head down as you made your way to the break room to drop off your bags. You heard your name being called, but you couldn’t face him right now. It was too embarrassing, the thought of having to tell him it didn’t work out after defending him for months. Your feigned ignorance to the call of your name didn’t stop Sukuna from bursting into the break room just seconds after you, watching incredulously as you hauled in two big ass bags.

“What the hell happened to you?” He questioned, grabbing the two, large duffel bags from your shoulders and setting them carefully on the ground. “Fuck, I almost clocked out and went over there myself.”

His irritated rambling only ceased upon seeing your swollen eyes and red cheeks. You didn’t have to say it, he already knew. Already feeling guilty for having raised his voice to you in such a state, he pulled you in by your shoulders, wrapping his arms tightly around your small frame. Sobs wracked your body, but he thought maybe if he held you tight enough he could squeeze all the tears out for you. Your arms hung limply at your sides as you pressed your face pathetically into his chest once more before pushing him away. 

You shook your head, frantically wiping your face and attempting to fix your hair. His red eyes were still intently on you, waiting with bated breath for you to either tell him what happened or snap, whichever came first. Slowly sinking down into one of the chairs, you brought your knees up to your chest. 

“You were right, Kuna.” You cried out with a bitter smile, unable to look him in the eyes. “He only walked all over me ‘cause I was letting him. I’m not gonna let him do it again, alright?”

“The fuck did that asshole do to ya’?” Sukuna snatched a chair out to face you before settling down with his chest pressed against the back of it. Your eyes drifted to the side, and he felt his jaw click with how roughly he was grinding his teeth together. “Huh?”

“He…” Your bottom lip trembled again, but this time it was out of sheer embarrassment from what you were about to tell him. “He asked me if you were the reason I had been questioning our relationship.”

That caught the usually quick-witted bartender off guard. He didn’t even know that you had been questioning your relationship. Had he been the reason for it? He couldn’t help the thoughts that began racing in his mind. 

“What’d you tell him?” It was all he could muster out, watching you with bated breath. 

“I told him to fuck off.” Through your blubbering tears, you managed to laugh, and Sukuna felt himself smiling along with you, a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest at the thought of the once timid girl finally growing a backbone. “Just like you taught me, Kuna.”

Abandoning any thoughts of fleeting hope that maybe your possible attraction to him was the straw that broke the back of your already straining relationship, he reached out to ruffle your hair. 

“That’s my girl.” He quipped, now working to smooth your hair down for you. His teeth caught on his bottom lip as he tried to suppress his next question, but he just had to know. “Did he cry?”

“Sukuna!” You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his eager question. Sniffling back your tears, you shoved at his hands and fixed your face before standing up. “Maybe.”

A victorious, villainous sounding cackle fell from his lips, and he high fived you. 

“Fuck yeah, he did. C’mon, heartbreaker, I’ll make you a dirty shirley to get you through your shift.”

It was definitely one of the harder shifts that you had had to brave through, but Sukuna was there each time you needed to take a breather. Hell, he had even gone as far as to run most of your drinks for you despite your boss’s demands for him to stay behind the damn bar for once. It only took one pointed glare from the bartender to straighten that situation out quicker than it had started. 

Still, no matter how many marashcino cherries he snuck over to you during your shift, or however many time he pulled you out back for a smoke break when he could tell you were about to lose it, the end of your shift was drawing near, and you were about to be faced with the reality of your decision once again. 

“Your car still acting up, doll? Need a ride?” Sukuna’s cool voice questioned from the bar as you got done wiping down your final table. You sighed, turning to lean against the now squeaky clean table. 

“No, I’m gonna stay with a friend. She lives kind of far out, so I’ll just take an Uber and call a mechanic to come take a look at that piece of crap in the morning.”

“How far out? You ain’t on the schedule for tomorrow?” He asked, walking back with you to pick up your bags from the break room. You watched him tuck his helmet under his arm in addition to your hefty bags. 

“About an hour or so. It’s alright, I just have to leave a little earlier than usual. Living the dream, am I right?” 

You heard his tut softly, and his steps out of the break room halted. 

“That’s bullshit, come stay with me.”

In an instant, your face flushed at the implications, and you were quickly shaking your head at him with a scoff. Sure, you would be lying if you said you weren’t extremely attracted to the man. Getting yourself into a situation that sticky only a day after exiting a seven year relationship though? A situation in which you’d be depending on said attractive man for the roof over your head? That sounded like a recipe for disaster.

“C’mon, I’ve got an efficiency that the brat uses when he comes to visit. Nice little kitchen and everything. You’d have your own space. It’s just sitting there, don’t be so proud.”

It wasn’t your pride getting in the way though. It was the fact that this man had made it very clear on multiple occasions that he was ‘next in line’ should your relationship fail. You weren’t sure accepting a room with those kinds of conditions was the best idea for you at this point. 

“Sukuna…” You murmured, kicking a scuff of dirt off your shoe just so you didn’t have to look at him as you explained yourself. “I… I need some time. Thank you for being so nice to me and all, but… I’m just not ready for--”

“Jesus, I’m not tryna cash in your ass for rent, doll.” He explained, and there was almost an underlying tone of offense in his usually cool voice. Although, even he had to admit that he couldn’t blame you for assuming such a thing-- what with the way he flirted relentlessly with you, but that was more so just to be able to see the way you blushed for him. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder. “Look, you can take the efficiency, and you won’t even have to see my dumbass if you don’t wanna. Separate door and everything. I’m not asking you for anything in return, just wanna make your life a little easier till you get back on your feet.”

It did sound like a romantic enough offer, you thought as you chewed on your lip pensively. Additionally, it wasn’t as if he’d ever advanced on you inappropriately, and he always turned it down a notch if he noticed his teasing was making you uncomfortable. After all, you could always reach out to your friend should things go south.

“No conditions?” You questioned apprehensively. 

“Eh, might make you take some of my weekend shifts to make it up to me.”

An amused smile fought its way onto your lips despite yourself. You were disciplined enough to live with your extremely attractive, fit, and funny co-worker right after a bad breakup, right?

Wrong. You were not disciplined enough. It had been three days since you moved into the small efficiency at Sukuna’s modest home. You figured his little gig as a makeshift hitman must have paid him a decent amount to be able to afford a house on his own, but you weren’t gonna ask any questions. The space he offered you was neat, neater than you’d expected when he said his teenage nephew had been living there. There were photos hung up in the tiny living area, and you were shocked to see what looked to be a spitting image of the bartender, save for all the piercings and tattoos of course, beaming brightly at the camera alongside his larger, more brooding counterpart. 

Sukuna meant it when he said you didn’t have to see him if you didn’t want to. You hadn’t heard so much as a peep from your neighbor except for when he’d offered to carpool with you to work. Even then, he would wait outside the front door for you, never once stepping into your space. You were grateful, you seriously, seriously were. Still, the thought of him being just a wall away from you every night was driving you a little bit crazy, and you were beginning to feel a bit like a freeloader. 

So, that Sunday morning when the restaurant was closed, you got yourself up bright and early and began cooking. Waffles, eggs, bacon-- the whole nine yards. Once you were satisfied with your spread, you packed everything up and tried to appear confident when you knocked on his door. You waited. One minute. Two minutes. Was he even home? You peered out and saw his bike still parked out front, a large, black tarp covering it. When you turned back to the door, it was abruptly swinging open. 

Oh, right. Sukuna mentioned something about taking the bartending position to get out of working mornings. You were reminded of that little fact as you took in his dishevled appearance. His pink hair was messily strewn out in every which direction, complemented by the way his eyes squinted down at you to adjust to the light. The only thing he currently donned was a pair of baggy, black sweatpants that clung dangerously low on his hips. Your previous assumption had been correct; those intricate little tattoos did cover his entire body, most notable being the two that accentuated his already defined v-line. 

“Oh… I’m sorry. I just--”

“That for me?” He asked brashly, pointing lazily to the three tupperware containers stacked haphazardly in your arms. You could only nod, afraid of making more of an idiot of yourself than you already had. A rough grunt slipped past his lips, and he opened the door to let you in. “You coming in or what?”

You really had just intended to drop off breakfast for him, say your thanks, and leave, but this worked too. His space was neat, a little lifeless in your opinion, but what could you expect from a guy like Sukuna? Unlike the little efficiency you had settled into, there weren’t any photos hung around anywhere for you to pry into. As he set the tupperware down on the table and moved to grab some plates, you looked around his tidy kitchen. Hung on the fridge with a plain looking magnet was a letter of acceptance into a local university. Upon closer inspection, you noticed his nephew’s name on it. Jesus, he was making it really hard to not swoon. 

As you two shared your homemade breakfast on his small dining nook, he asked you about how you had been holding up, and you were honest with him. It was definitely an adjustment, but you felt as though you had been mentally checked out of the relationship for some time, and maybe that was why you felt a little more put together about it than you probably should have. Despite this, you told him how the hardest part was not having that person around that you always felt comfortable telling everything to. You couldn’t gauge what the look on his face meant upon hearing this confession. 

“You know… I got an email on Friday.” You began, deciding you needed something to break the sudden tension between you two. He hummed in question as he moved to clean your now dirty dishes in the sink. Your fingertips grasped the counter top in anticipation, and part of you questioned if he would be as excited as you were. “I got into the program.”

The dish he was holding dropped into the sink with a concerning clatter, and he spun around to meet your gaze. 

“No shit?” Sukuna gasped in disbelief, suddenly appearing more awake and alert than he had in the past hour. Grasping at your shoulders, he smiled excitedly down at you. “No shit! Why am I just hearing the damn news now?” 

You squealed in surprise as he lifted you up into a bear hug. His bare skin was warm against yours, and you took advantage of the proximity to trace your finger curiously down the tattoo on his neck. With a breathless laugh, you hoped he couldn’t feel your face heating up. 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly in the celebrating mood three days ago if you can recall, Kuna…”

“Right, right,” He groaned, setting you down atop the counter so he could look you in the eye. His gaze was glimmering with pride, and you found yourself once again seriously questioning what dimension this man had fallen from. “So, what now? You gonna quit your job? Is it close by?”

“No, it’s local. I’ll probably see if they can keep me on part-time at least. Can’t leave my favorite bartender behind, can I?” Your voice was soft as you stared down at your lap shyly. With your gaze turned away from him, you missed the way his eyes softened at your words. 

Throughout the past few days, Sukuna wanted nothing more than to pound on your door to check in on you, but he knew these next few weeks would be sensitive for you. He didn’t want to cross that line-- make you regret agreeing to stay with him. Your story stuck in his mind every night though, what your asshole boyfriend had asked you just before you left him. As you sat in front of him, eyes shyly cast down and talking so sweet to him in that way you were so good at, he felt his resolve slipping. 

“Can I ask you a question, doll? And you don’t gotta answer it if you don’t wanna.”

This made you peer up at him in question, not anticipating how close he’d be when you did. You nodded with an inviting smile, almost scared of what he was about to say. 

“That asshole… he asked if you were questioning things with him ‘cause of me.” Sukuna began, and he watched the knowing look fall upon your face. It was too late now though. Leaning a hand against the counter, he tilted his head sincerely at you. “Was it? ‘Cause of me?”

The thinning barrier between friends and more was disappearing right before your eyes, and you found it increasingly difficult to tear your eyes away from his. They captured you with a fierce presence, begging you to prove him right, to let him know it wasn’t just him. Your entire mind was being clouded by Sukuna-- his eyes, his scent, his aggressive dominance that demanded to be felt. So, against your better judgement, you inched forward. 

“If I said it was… what would you do?” You questioned, your voice just above a whisper. His heart leaped into his throat. Something switched in his expression in just a second, and it almost darkened as he regarded you intensely. The hand he held beside you twitched, threatening to graze against the plush flesh of your thighs that spilled out from your pajama shorts. 

“Nothing unless you asked me to.”

“And… if I asked you to?

You felt it then, his rough fingers creeping up to grip your thigh. A small gasp escaped your lips, and he watched the motion with a smirk. Leaning in until his lips brushed dangerously against the shell of your ear, he whispered lowly. 

“I’d reach places in you that lowlife didn’t even know existed.”

No matter how badly you wanted to reach out to grasp at his tattooed shoulder for support, your hands seemed to remain superglued to your lap. Still, as your chest heaved softly, you could feel his firm pecs graze against your breasts teasingly. The proximity, the teasing, the anticipation-- it was damn near making you lightheaded. 

“Sukuna?” You whispered, and he hummed in question. “Please… please, touch me.”

As his hand dove into the front of your frilly shorts, and you gasped so sweetly into his ear, Sukuna made a mental note to thank his brat ass nephew for telling him to stay out of trouble while he was gone. 

masterlist | requests | talk to me ❤︎

I love hearing everyone's thoughts! ◝⠀(ᵔᵕᵔ)⠀◜

[ghastlyfilters]

Pleeease write some headcanons of Art trying to cheer up a GN reader who's stressed over school/work/etc. 🥺🥺🥺 pretty please 🤧🤍🙂‍↕️

art with a s/o who’s struggling with work!!

pairings; implied art the clown x gn reader

warnings; mentions of violence (this is what ya get when your fictional crush is a murderer babe 😔) stress, and gotta add in fluff

gifs made by me!! :)

THE HEADCANONS:

• If there’s one thing about Art that everyone should know by now, is that he is INCREDIBLY curious. However, when it comes to anyone studying, this man is bored out of his little clown mind.

• He thrives off your happiness when you’re in a good mood, but when you’re stressed.. Art’s kinda at a loss..

• Despite Art absolutely living for other people’s misery, seeing you so stressed actually freaks him out in a sense. He’s a ticking time bomb. And his brain can’t handle shit when your brain also cannot handle shit 😭

• His horn’s practically his best buddy at this point, and if it cheers him up, it’ll maybe cheer you up? Right?

…. Right??

• Yeah, him honking his horn in your ear whilst you were trying to study your ass off did not seem to sit well with you. When you told him to stop, he gave you that sassy judgemental look, raising one drawn on brow. He knows the power he has over you. Art could’ve honked that fucking horn all day if he liked. It’s not as if you could stop him.

• But.. your boyfriend has respect for you.. sometimes. And he did in fact stop honking his horn whenever he noticed that you were studying.

• Art is awake literally ever single hour of the day. He doesn’t necessarily need to sleep, he more so sort of lounges around. But he can sleep if he really wants to. This makes him literally ideal for going out and getting you food if you’re up at three in the morning studying.

• He did it so much now that you didn’t even ask anymore. You’d be up in the early hours of the morning on your macbook, and Art was already out the door. He could care less if anyone saw him. Most people think he’s some asshole just dressing up as the Miles County clown.

And that’s the mistake the cashier at Subway made that night.

• Art is so SO prone to being insulted easily. So if someone does think he’s trying to dress up as himself, it pisses him off. BAD.

• You learnt this very quickly when he came home with two blood stained Subway bags. And when you went to open one.. dawg.. it wasn’t your food.. ☹️

• It had been the severed head of the cashier he killed. But at this point you weren’t even squeamish anymore. Art always walked around smelling like someone’s insides. But it just made it incredibly awkward when he stood in the doorway blinking at you, making that O shape with his mouth, realising your food was in the other bag..

• One night you’d fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from filling out all the files your professor had sent you. Art smiled down at you before waltzing past with his usual looney tune, cartoonish looking walk. He wanted to raid your snacks again from the kitchen. Art could be a fat shit when he wanted to be. Your laptop was on the dining table, wide open. He hadn’t noticed at first, before a notification sound filled the room in under a second. Art had snapped his head round and squinted, noticing your professor’s name pop up. The prick sent an email lecturing you regarding not enough work being sent back, despite the fact he was sending a shit ton of files. This caused Art to type a very lovely little email back. And when you awoke, he was gone.

… So was your professor apparently when the head of your college sent everyone emails that morning to note that he would not be returning.

• When Art came strolling back in, covered head to toe in that familiar red liquid, you immediately knew.

And this was your long awaited break.

• At last you weren’t having anymore documents sent to you for a while. Atleast until they found a replacement for your old professor. So finally you could relax, watching your lanky boyfriend on the couch across from you, grinning like the madman he is at the horror flick on the TV.

Maybe that clown could cheer you up with everything after all.

HII! this was so fun to write. i adore art so much and i’m desperate for more requests for him!! (also ik a 24hr subway isn’t that common, don’t come for me 😭)

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

I think if Soos got a glimpse of the kind of home life Pacifica has he would be like "Nope!" And do his best to yoink her right out of there. Cue chase sequence starring attack peacocks!

I would like to present for your consideration- The Mystery Shack Crew: Fall, Winter, and Spring Edition!

Soos Ramirez!

Mr. Mystery himself! Owner, tour guide, salesman, chief handyman, and proud boyfriend of Melody! He's living his best life. He takes the crew out on adventures every once in a while to find inspiration for new attractions, and often they come back with evidence of actual cryptids. Not that the average tourist can tell the difference. There's a lot of classic Stan-isms around the Shack, but he's running it all in his own Soos-y way. The place has become a lot more popular with kids since he took over.

Melody Lastname!

Cashier, bookkeeper, and proud girlfriend of Mr. Mystery! Soos insists that she fits right in with this place because she's "literally too awesome to not be magical, dude". It's a weird job, probably the weirdest she's had, but she has fun and she likes the people there. She adapts to the supernatural incredibly fast, and she and Soos are working on making an updated version of the journals based on Ford and Dippers notes. This time it's more in the vein of an instructional guide to safely interacting with the various phenomena in Gravity Falls. (Candy has insisted that they make pamphlet versions as well as guidebooks.)

Wendy Corduroy!

Same as always. She stays working at the Shack through her last years of high school, and is having a blast working for Soos. Her job performance has gone way up since he took over lol. Stan totally isn't bitter about it. She and Melody both man the cash register, but mostly Wendy works on operating and managing the attractions and shows. She and the Multibear have a whole deal where they pretend to wrestle to the death in a bimonthly performance. The Multibear doesn't really want or need money, so Wendy pays him back by playing bodyguard whenever the Manotaurs send a newbie to go and kill him. She has tons of deals like this set up.

Pacifica Northwest!

Pacifica is doing both better and worse. Her parents have gotten more strict and tense since they lost their fortune, and Pacifica has looked for more ways to stay out of the house. She worked at Greasy's for a while with Susan, but that really pissed off her parents (they're even more stringent with their public image now, and are offended that their daughter would be working at all, let alone at a diner like some common townsperson.) It stopped being a safe space for her after they found out about it. Luckily, Soos was there! He offered to let her hang out at the Mystery Shack, explaining how crucial it was in his own childhood. She was reluctant at first, but agreed. Turns out the environment cultivated at the Shack by the other three is exactly what she needed. She hangs out with Wendy a lot, she's basically her "being a normal kid" tutor. Soos and Melody also insist on giving Pacifica the full dumb kid stuff experience, everything from tacky animatronic restaurants to Lazer tag. She's not the best at expressing it, but she's super grateful for everything. Also turns out she's a natural with numbers, so she helps Melody with the books sometimes. It feels good to be good at something beyond the surface.

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

8 | for you to say

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, fluff, tension, lesbo vibes (heh), etc.

❧ Word Count | 5k

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Here’s the thing, you can go a decently long time without even laying a finger on Choso. Yet when it comes to the man in question touching you or feeling the need to, things are quite different.

Speaking of different, everything is different after that night you spent with Choso.

For starters, you do everything in your power to avoid Gojo at all costs. It’s not that you didn’t want to see the guy or anything but, every time you ran into him, his hands would be all over you and he’s such an attentive man that when your body is covered with hickeys your best friend left on you– it’s hard to manage properly without being caught and questioned.

As such, things become a bit of a battle between who gets your attention more. At home, you’d run into Choso and he was all over you within seconds, snaking his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent like it’s the only thing keeping him sane, and planting these needy little kisses against your skin.

Then there was Gojo who was basically the same except you had to deal with him whenever you were out. You couldn’t really avoid him on campus because he seemed to be everywhere and whenever he saw you, he’d drag you off to the nearest secluded place, and then his lips were on yours before you even realized. And with Gojo, it’s hard because it almost feels right to kiss and make out with him.

Gojo is truly indescribable for you. Being around him just gives you this entirely different feeling in your chest in comparison to other people you’ve been around. And although deep down you kinda disliked how whenever you were around him things started to always lead to the same thing– his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body, etc… you can’t say you hated it.

It was rather excessive though. Whether it be in that cafe storage room, his car, his apartment, your place (when Choso wasn’t home), or anywhere else, things with Gojo always resulted in him touching and kissing you.

Then, the thing with Choso is that it all felt so wrong in contrast to things feeling ‘right’ with Gojo– and in the weirdest way, it was like a good kinda wrong. You didn’t hate his touches or his kisses either but it made your body burn with guilt. Even so, it’s not like you ever pushed either of the men off of you. 

And on top of that, only Choso was aware of the fact that you were basically switching back and forth between him and Gojo but, he didn’t seem to care.

Sure, he said slick shit like, “Think he would be mad if he knew you let me do this?” while having you pinned to the living room couch, grinding his semi-hard cock down against you instead of finishing the movie you two were supposed to be watching but, what can you say? Choso has a weird way of seducing you.

It’s all in the way he teases and taunts you, the way he’ll piss you off just to ‘make up’ for it with a sensual hug and an ‘apologetic’ kiss– all of which always leads to something more. Never sex though.

You took that one morning with Gojo as a warning. Perhaps the universe had been trying to tell you something at the time and whatever it was, you weren’t going to ignore that sign and go and sleep with Choso again. Yeah, you and Choso make out and you let him dry hump you every now and then but you always find some sort of excuse to make him stop (or just tell him to stop and he does).

Choso doesn’t question it either. It’s like he was satisfied with the fact that he could even get you to the point where you had to tell him you couldn’t sleep with him. He seemed content with his privilege of kissing you alone, knowing that every time you go out to hang with Gojo, you’re probably still thinking of him since it all makes you feel guilty.

It’s a bit fucked up, sure, but Choso doesn’t care one bit. Whatever the two of you had going on, he liked it and didn’t want it to end. You could go out and do the same with anyone else but it didn’t matter, Choso knows you’ll still come home to him at the end of the day.

A real problem only came about when the relationship between you and Gojo finally progressed. 

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

October had rolled around and whatever you had going on between the two guys was still happening. Somedays you let Choso be all over you and other days you let Gojo be the lucky guy. Then there were days where you just didn’t want either of them all over you but still, you were switching from guy to guy and you couldn’t really escape that fact.

Now, the month of October is a particularly important month to this story because that’s the month when you finally decide to start putting your foot down with Choso. No, you didn’t completely stop letting him flirt with you and touch on you but things would only go so far.

To put things in perspective, you hadn’t had sex since that night with Choso. It was almost like you couldn’t. You had opportunities to do so with either of the guys at any point but with Gojo, there was always a hickey on you that you didn’t want him to see, and with Choso, you didn’t want your guilt of it all to consume you even more than it already was.

You juggled all this rather well up until the end of that fall month, or, more specifically, up until the day before Halloween.

It was yet another Friday afternoon and you and Gojo were currently seated inside that lovely cafe he works at. The establishment was rather lively but Gojo was taking his break and in doing so, he decided to sit with you while you study on your laptop for some test you have.

There wasn’t much talking between the two of you at the moment but neither of you minded the lack of speech, it was comforting to simply be in one another’s presence. Given that, Gojo was pretty occupied on his phone since the last time he’d said something to you, tapping away at his screen just as you were on your laptop up until he glanced up at you with that little glint in his eyes.

You barely get the chance to acknowledge his gaze on you before his mouth was opening, “Hey, are you busy tomorrow?” Gojo questions as he clicks his phone off and places it down, leaning in a bit to really gain your attention.

You’re slow to lift your eyes from your laptop and to his face but when you’re finally looking at him, he smiles at you. “Uhm, I don’t think so, no. Why? You wanna do something?” You reply and quiz in return before sitting back in your seat.

The sudden conversation was a perfect distraction from the draining schoolwork in front of you so you were silently thanking Gojo for talking again, even though his rambling does get on your nerves from time to time. “Yeah, actually. There’s this party tomorrow, wanna go with me?” He offers.

Brows lifting in curiosity, you reach for your nearby latte and question the man further, “Isn’t tomorrow Halloween?”

“It is,” Gojo nods as he moves to rest his cheek against his knuckles.

You’re quick to put two and two together, “So, is it a Halloween party?”

“Yeah, a costume party,” A smile spreads across his face and you can tell he’s clearly excited about this.

“Ohh, sounds fun!” You exclaim. Gojo watches the way your eyes light up whilst you begin to ramble on a bit from there, “I can’t really remember the last time I went to a party buuut dressing up and dancing for a few hours with you doesn’t sound so bad.”

Almost in awe, his smile deepens and those dimples of his begin to present themself, “Yeah?”

You nod, “Mhm, what’re you gonna go as?”

“Not sure yet,” Gojo shrugs and his eyes fall on your lips wrapping around your straw as you take a sip of your drink, “I was gonna go shoppin’ tomorrow for somethin’.” He hums casually with little to no attempt to avert his gaze.

Nodding again, you swallow your small sip and swipe your tongue across your lips, “The chances of you finding anything good on Halloween night is really slim, y’know that right?”

He can’t help but smirk before lifting his gaze to your eyes, “Nahh, I have my ways.”

“Uhuh…” You muse skeptically, “Well, I don’t know if I’ll be able to find anything decent so-”

“We can go costume shopping together, silly girl.” He interrupts.

A smirk plays against your lips, “Y’know Satoru, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a thing for spoiling me…”

Gojo is quick to laugh at that, “Huuuh?” He breathes out dramatically, “What on earth makes you say that?”

“When you invited me to that gala, you offered to buy me something to wear then too,” You remind him, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly as you both smile at one another.

“Okay, perhaps I like buyin’ you things,” As he says that, he goes to elaborate a little more– explaining how he likes seeing the way a woman’s eyes light up whenever they’re given the opportunity to having things purchased for them. And when it comes to you specifically, Gojo is more than happy to buy you anything you could ever think of. 

You steadily move to shut your laptop and focus yourself on the small talk with Gojo, happily listening to him go on about how much he’d love to watch you try on different outfits for him. 

As the conversation carries on, you soon begin to think back to the start of the talk– the Halloween party. “Okay so, who’s party even is this?” You ask once the laughter from whatever Gojo’s last silly comment was dies down.

His brows raise a bit, “Uhhh, that’s a good question actually.”

You scoff, “You don’t even know who’s hosting the party you planned on attending?”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal and glances away in thought, “Nono, I know whose party it is, I jus’ forgot her name.” Gojo explains, his eyes steadily landing on something somewhere behind you, “I think it was-”

“Hori!” Some voice shouts not too far behind where you and Gojo are seated, “Please, shut up about the guy for just one second.”

Naturally, given Gojo’s lack of finishing his statement and the way his eyes are locked on something behind you, your first instinct is to turn back to the source of the voice and person in question– Hori.

Once your eyes land on what he’d been looking at, you spot two women walking toward the rather long line at the register, your eyes quickly moving to study the faces of the two individuals.

Blonde hair is the first thing you notice, accompanied by the prettiest doe-brown eyes (second to Choso’s when he’s pleading for something from you) you think you’ve ever seen. You almost couldn’t take your eyes off the woman despite her looks being rather generic. Perhaps it was the amount of pink she was wearing or the picture-perfect smile plastered across her face but either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away just yet.

Next to her was a, noticeably short, woman with deep violet-shaded long hair, bangs, and a large unique scar running across her face. Now she was gorgeous. She had this pretty bow accessorizing the back of her hair, was noticeably stylish, and-, well, despite the frown on her face, she was quite the sight for sore eyes.

Your heart practically thumps out of your chest when you and her meet eyes from across the cafe for a mere moment.

“Utahime please, jus’ hear me out for a second longerrr,” The blonde exclaims in an attempt to gain her friend’s attention once more, “He hasn’t texted me back in like, three days but-, I’m telling you he’s interested in me!”

The darker-haired woman, who you now mentally note as Utahime, shakes her head in disapproval, “Guys are really simple, y’know. If he hasn’t texted you in three days, he’s probably not as interested in you as you think he is.”

“But he is,” Hori whines, “I was even with him the other day trying to get him to come to my party, and he-”

“That’s her,” Gojo suddenly says to you, breaking you away from your eavesdropping and earning a turn of your head. The rest of that bubbly blonde’s sentence goes unheard as your attention is set back on the man in front of you.

You blink, “Which one?”

Gojo’s expression seems dimmer than it was moments before, “The loud blonde one, Hori,” He explains with a nod of his chin toward her.

“Oh,” You hum in response.

Something about that name seemed familiar but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it just yet. Hori. Where had you heard that name before? It feels like you should know who she is but you’ve never even seen the girl ‘til now so-

All at once, it hits you. Hori, the name of the woman who’d texted Choso that one morning. She’s the same person you think Choso’s been hanging out with a couple of times lately. 

You spend a moment longer thinking about her and how small of a world you seem to live in with the way everyone’s connected up until the sound of your name slips from someone’s lips. Blinking out of your thoughts, you’re quick to glance back yet again and listen in on the person who’d just uttered your name.

“That’s her name right? That one girl he’s always walking around with??” Hori asks Utahime blindly, having not noticed you sitting not that far away from where they’re standing in line.

Utahime groans, “Could you be any louder,” She huffs before nudging her ignorant friend on the arm.

Hori blinks, “Wha-” She’s cut off by Utahime nodding her head in your direction, “Ohhh!” 

“Idiot,” Utahime sighs and then glances at you, meeting your gaze for yet a second time and making you swallow thickly.

Her stare is unwavering, as if making eye contact with you doesn’t bother her in the slightest. Meanwhile, you’re quick to revert your eyes back to Gojo and whatever he’s saying to you.

Despite your eyes on him, your ears can’t help but twitch as you continue listening in on the conversation taking place between Hori and Utahime, “Damnit, she’s even prettier than I thought she was,” Hori mumbles to herself.

Utahime shrugs, “Bit of an understatement but, alright.”

Looking to her friend, Hori tilts her head, “Huh? What do you mean ‘understatement’?”

“I mean,” Utahime clicks her tongue, “She’s kinda h-”

“Oh my God, wait, is that Gojo with her?!” Hori interrupts rather loudly as her feet move seconds later and she begins to approach the two of you.

Left alone, Utahime groans while she keeps her place in line and watches her friend skip over to you and Gojo.

“Gojo! Hi!” Hori greets as she stands to your right and Gojo’s left, smiling brightly at the man.

You move to quietly sip on your latte as your eyes travel back and forth between the two– noticing that the normal sparkle in Gojo’s eyes is gone completely.

“Hey,” He hums, his voice filled with a clear disinterest in wherever the conversation was going.

Hori is so clearly oblivious to his soured mood due to her presence because her smile only widens, “You never answered my text,” She says casually before tilting her head, “Are you coming to my party tomorrow or not?”

“Uh,” Gojo breathes out, glancing at you, “That depends.”

The woman raises a brow and slowly follows his gaze to you, making you stiffen as all the attention lands on you. You gulp, “D-Depends on what?” You ask, confused as to why he’s staring at you like he needs your permission or something.

He doesn’t move his eyes from yours for even a second, “Are you gonna come with me?”

You never really answered him earlier, although it was implied so, you just shrug, “I dunno,” Your eyes flicker over to Hori, “Am I invited?”

Hori just stares at you for a moment, her eyes all over your face and the way you’re staring up at her. You can’t really tell what she’s thinking since she has this airhead look on her face so your brows furrow after a moment of no response.

To which you lean a bit closer and blink a few times, making her snap out of her little daze, “Y-Yeah, of course! Anyone can come-, sorry. I just-,” She smiles and looks down for a moment, “You’re really pretty.”

Your heart warms in your chest at the sudden compliment and you’re quick to return a smile, “Aw, thank you.”

She lifts her gaze from the floor and then brings her hand up a bit to fidget with her nails, “No problem. And uh, are you friends with Choso Kamo?”

You arch a brow at the mention of your best friend, “Yeah, why?”

“Well… I was actually wondering if you could uhh..” She trails off as if she’s nervous to ask her question.

“She wants you to convince Choso to come to her party,” The sound of Utahime’s voice startles you a bit and your eyes are quick to snap over to the woman who now has two drinks in her hand. Even up close, it’s like she only got more attractive, a waft of her floral perfume simmering into your nose as she stands beside her friend, “You’re the one he’s always with, right?” Utahime asks you.

All you can do is hum, “Mhm..”

She openly allows her eyes to trail up and down your seated figure, “I can see why he won’t shut up about you.”

Alarms go off in your head at the sound of that and your brows twist up, your lips parting to say something, only to be cut off by Hori turning to her friend, “Wait what? You talk to him?!”

Utahime shrugs like it’s no big deal and hands the blonde one of the drinks in her hand, “Uhuh, I have like three classes with the guy.”

Dropping her jaw dramatically, Hori gasps, “You never told me that.”

“You never asked,” Utahime chuckles.

“But-”

“Anyway though,” Dark brown eyes focus on you once again and Utahime grins kindly, “Think you can do her a favor and convince him to come?”

You smile, “Mind if I ask why?”

Utahime sighs and her explanation sounds almost as if she were pleading with you, “Cause’ this girl won’t shut up about him ‘nd I’m so tired of hearing her complain.”

At that, you chuckle. In the strangest way, she and Hori remind you of you and Choso. “Then yeah, I’ll try. But, fair warning, he doesn’t like listening to me so…”

She shrugs, “Trying is good enough for me, thanks.”

You nod and the two of you hold eye contact for a moment longer than normal, to which Gojo clears his throat obnoxiously and earns the attention of the three of you, “Ahem, if you two don’t mind,” He huffs, sizing Hori up and down and then glancing to Utahime, “We were in the middle of talking before you guys came over here.”

He’s so clearly bothered by their presence but his distaste toward them goes entirely over Hori’s head as she opens her mouth to say something to keep the conversation going.

Luckily for Gojo, Utahime hooks an arm around her friend and speaks before she gets the chance to, “Sorry for interrupting you two. We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” She dismisses, moving to drag Hori away from you guys.

Hori tries to pull away but it’s no use, “H-Hey! I still wanted to-”

“Read the room,” Utahime huffs as she drags her away and toward the exit of the cafe.

You laugh softly at their dynamic as you watch them walk off, your eyes lingering on the two for way longer than they should’ve been. Up until Gojo groaning catches your attention once more…

“She’s so fucking annoying,” He breathes out, folding his arms over the table and dropping his head down.

You turn your head to him, “Which one?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He mumbles, his voice muffled by his hoodie, “Hori.”

His antics make you giggle, “Then why’re you goin’ to her party?”

Gojo sighs, “”Cause, unfortunately, she throws the best parties.”

“Does she now?”

“Yeah, me ‘nd Suguru have been to a few.”

You nod, “Oh…”

Gojo shifts the way he has his head so that he can look up at you, “Mhm.”

Only his eyes are peeking out from his folded arms and he does nothing more than gaze at you for a while. At the angle he’s looking at you from, it reminds you of when he was in between your legs with his mouth latched to your cunt. Gojo’s so pretty it’s almost unfair. He just stares at you with those diamond-blue eyes of his, the little twinkle in his irises returning as he admires you.

You can’t help but smile after a minute or two, tilting your head and trying to ignore the way his unwavering gaze makes you self-conscious, “What?”

It’s slow but, Gojo lifts his head from his arms and raises a hand up to your face, taking your chin in between his thumb and index and pulling your face a bit closer to his. Then, his eyes slip down to your mouth and he slides his thumb up to trace the outline of your lower lip.

Your eyes wander elsewhere to see if anyone is paying attention to his sudden public display of affection– he doesn’t usually act like this when there’s people around so it was kinda strange for him to-

“I wanna kiss you,” Gojo voices out to you.

Your gaze is quick to return to him and you smile against his thumb, “Something stopping you?”

He lifts your chin slightly and then weighs his thumb on your lower lip, dragging it down and revealing your bottom row of teeth. “Yeah,” He whispers, “If I kiss you now I’ll only want more of you.”

Gojo lets his thumb slide off of your lip completely just to watch the way it falls back into place perfectly. 

You then smile, “And what’s wrong with that?”

“I gotta get back to work in a few minutes,” He reminds you as he draws his hand away from your face entirely.

“Riiight-”

“Plus, you’ve been cockblocking me lately so uh,” Gojo shrugs before slumping back into his seat and lifting his arms up into the air to stretch.

You scoff, “I have not.”

He laughs, “You have. Jus’ last week when we were in my room, your excuse was that you had to get home to finish some paper…”

“It was due in an hour!” You exclaim, smiling at the man.

Gojo tilts his head, “Coulda’ finished it while I ate you out or something.”

You roll your eyes, “I wouldn’t have been able to focus, Satoru.”

“Yeah you would’ve,” He argues.

“No, I wouldn’t have,” You refute in return.

“I mean,” His shoulders lift into a casual shrug, “We can always test that theory tonight.”

Your voice falls flat, “No.”

Gojo tosses his head back and groans dramatically, “Seeee? Cockblocking me again.”

“You’re being dramatic, no I’m not.”

“Y’know what, you’re right,” He huffs.

“I know I’m right-”

“I can jus’ go find someone else to satisfy my needs.”

You choke, a cough escaping your throat as your words fall from your lips in a stammer, “W-What?”

Gojo raises a brow and looks at you, “You heard me. I’ll go find someone else to sleep with,” He repeats, biting back a smirk, “There are plenty of women I’ve been rejecting for you.”

Those words give you this weird feeling in your chest. You couldn’t help but feel some type of way at the mere thought of Gojo being with someone else. And yes, you are well aware of how hypocritical that is but, in that moment you couldn’t care less.

“I mean, hey, if you go sleep with someone else, I’ll jus’ go fuck Choso,” You blurt out faster than you had time to think.

Tension fills the air in an instant and you probably shouldn't have said that but by the time you realize, the words were already floating in the air and echoing in Gojo’s mind.

The male noticeably freezes, “What?” He asks as his face shifts to a scowl.

You swallow but try to stand your ground, “...I said what I said.”

It’s quiet for a second until Gojo laughs, clearly annoyed, “You won’t.” He hums lowly, eyes darkening as they settle on yours.

Matching his energy completely, you fold your arms, “Are you testing me?”

Gojo glares at you, “No, sweetheart. I dare you to.”

Your lips part to say the words ‘I already did’ but you’re thankfully cut off by someone chiming in.

“You could always sleep with me, sweet thing,” Shoko suddenly chimes in, attempting to lighten the mood and revealing the fact that she’s been listening in on your conversation.

Both you and Gojo look over at her and she smiles innocently at you, “No? Hah, alright then, my bad..”

With a sigh, you shake your head and then move to grab your laptop and bag on the nearby floor. Gojo returns his attention to you and your sudden movements. He eyes your facial expression down, noticing the pinch of your brows and the clear annoyance etched onto your face.

He can’t help but smirk at the realization you’d grown jealous of something he hadn’t even done yet. “You mad?” He hums almost provokingly.

You pause in your movements and send him a blank look, “No.”

Gojo tilts his head, “You look mad.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

You groan, “I’m going to be if you keep saying stupid shit,” You huff as you swipe your bag up and slip your laptop inside, moving to stand to your feet and zip your bag closed.

Then, you’re quick to toss the bag over your shoulder and turn. Gojo stands when you do, quickly stepping to your side of the table and planting himself right in front of you before you even get the chance to walk away.

All you can do is sigh and look past him, “Move.”

“Why’re you upset?” Gojo asks.

“I’m not.”

He rolls his eyes, “You’re a terrible liar, sweets. Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Slowly, your eyes trail up to his face, “Nothing.”

He puts this little pout on his face and leans closer to you, “I was just jokin’, y’know…” Then, Gojo reaches for one of your hands and brings it up to his face, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “I only want you.”

The combination of his soft-spoken words, the intimate eye contact, and his gestures make your heart throb.

“I’m serious,” Gojo continues, “I know we’re not dating or anything but, I’m not interested in anyone else aside from you. I only said that to mess with ya’.”

“Prove it,” Leaves your lips faster than a thought forms and it makes Gojo halt.

He blinks, “Prove it how?”

You shrug, “I dunno, jus’ prove it.”

At that, he lets out a little hum before dropping your hand. Then, he moves to place his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in close and leaning in to kiss you. Your lashes flutter shut as his lips soon press into yours.

Gojo’s lips are gentle against yours and you slowly realize this is his first time kissing you in public like this. Normally, he pulls you off to the side where barely anyone can see you two but right now he was kissing you in the middle of the cafe he works at like it was nothing.

His lips steadily detach from yours and his voice is quiet in a whisper, “I only want you,” Gojo repeats.

You can’t help but bat your lashes at the man for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his lips having been on yours in public. Oh, you felt like you could dissipate into thin air with the way that just made you feel.

Grinning, you shrug, “I’m sorry about what I said.”

Gojo shakes his head, “Don’t be, I was the one tryin’ to provoke you anyway.”

All at once, you’re reminded why your feelings for the man began to develop in the first place. Everything in the way he touches you, looks at you, understands where and when he’s wrong, every interaction, and literally his entire being gave you butterflies and throbs in your heart you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Gojo leans in to give you one more peck and when he pulls away, he smirks, “Plus, you wouldn’t do that anyway, right?”

You give him a dumbfounded look.

“…Sleep with him, I mean,” Gojo clarifies.

To which you clear your throat, “Oh… No, I’m uh, I’m not interested in Choso so…” You shrug, “And he’s an asshole who gets on my nerves.”

Those blue eyes linger on you for a moment longer than necessary and you almost feel like he’s studying you closely…

But, after a second he nods and pulls away from you.You really shouldn’t have ever mentioned sleeping with Choso, even if it were only to get back at what he said to you. It only led to you lying to him and that made your chest burn with guilt all over again. You hated lying like that but the truth would’ve only ruined whatever it is you had going for you thus far so… for now, you’ll avoid telling him about it.

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[kaytheday]

Things that were a Culture Shock for Dallas Winston from New York to Tulsa

Being able to see the stars for the first time. He is so surprised about how full the sky is, not that he would ever tell anybody that.

No public transportation (there is no way baby Dally ever learned how to drive and no way that he has a drivers lisence now) Buck probably taught him to drive.

He probably misses the subway and hates the bus system that Tulsa operates under (which is why he’s stealing Bucks car all the time).

Lowkey the rats. He is probably overestimating quite how much vermin there is.

The first time Darry caught him stuffing a towel in the sink drain at like 10:00 pm before they go to a drag race he was very confused.

"Why are you doing that Dal?"

"I’m planning on sleeping here tonight and if you don't keep these things plugged up when you go to bed you're gonna have a full rat invasion on your hands. They can get through pipes smaller than these you know Darrel.”

"Ratvasion up in here!"

"Shut up Two-Bit!"

Streets with nobody on them and less crowded spaces in general. Dallas is constantly asking where all the people are. Everyone else just keeps telling him that this is a normal amount of people?

Another thing that I think about is how Dallas was probably on high alert right after he moved. He was constantly used to the noise and the fighting and he was pretty paranoid about people following him and things like that because of the crime he was involved with in the city.

He was jumpy and always ready for a fight. He also thought that most of the neighborhoods in Tulsa were run by gangs. They are not (if anything they are loosely run)

The prices of things? In New York things are just more expensive. This is why he is always treating Johnny and Ponyboy because he sees that paying for three people in Tulsa is as much as paying for himself in New York.

Also the first time he got paid for barrel racing by Buck he thought he was getting gypped because it didn't seem like a lot compared to what he was getting in New York. He literally almost punched Buck's teeth out on the spot.

The accent. He would always get annoyed with how slow people talked.

"Come on! Spit it out and get to the point! I don't got all day!" He's done this on many occasions to store cashiers, people at the bar, and so many others. He gets so sick of waiting for them to say their bit.

Also the southern manners piss him off as well. He hates responding to ‘how are you?’ Or the stupid ‘have a nice day’. He’s complained more than once on the unnecessary small talk and manners.

This could also be why he comes off as rude and cold to Ponyboy especially and many others. He is blunt and says what’s on his mind and he hates small talk and unnecessary interactions. (as most New Yorkers do!) He will almost always cut an interaction short doing anything he can to get out of it. This is often what differentiates him from other southern hoods.

New Yorkers talk fast and they use a lot of complicated slang that the rest of the United States doesn't use. A lot of people get confused when he's talking to them and we know how Dallas is easily frustrated.

"I've been schleppin' your stuff around all day Buck, it's brick out 'ere and I come home to this Schlock? I gotta go lie down!" (love you and your New Yorker accent Dallas 🥰)

Let me know if you guys have any more. I love this concept.

This is inspired by some tags left on a post by @damthosefandoms