#and then I stumble around in complete darkness

[wcnderlnds]

drive ins and twinkie kisses | peter maximoff

・❥・ summary: peter takes you to the movies and uses his favourite snack to make a move ・❥・word count: 1.2k ・❥・warnings: none really. just kissing. ・❥・ authors note: i haven't wrote in a week because i've been sick but this idea came to me after some shenanigans in the evanverse server so <3

The new drive-in opening had been the latest buzz around town. Anywhere you went, everyone was talking about it to the point that you needed to go check it out yourself. All your friends had already been and were raving about it but you? Well, you didn’t exactly have anyone to go with. The night your friends had gone, you’d been on a mission with the X-Men so, although they’d invited you, you’d had to decline. The frown on your face anytime someone brought the drive-in up was enough to melt even the coldest of hearts including Peter Maximoff. Now, he wasn’t heartless – not at all but he wasn’t one to cave in just by seeing a pretty face. He had resisted for as long as he could but he couldn’t take it anymore when he saw you sat looking miserable when you had yet to pass up another opportunity to go.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed heavily, arms folded across his chest as he appeared in front of you in a blur of silver. “I’ll take you but don’t make a big deal about it or anyth- oof.”

Peter stumbled back slightly as you threw yourself at him, arms wrapping around his midsection while you hugged the life out of him. His hands hovered in the air, awkwardly wondering what the hell to do with them. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone - other than Kurt because for some reason he liked to tell him everything - Peter wasn’t the best when it came to physical affection or relationships. Maybe it was the lack of experience. Or maybe he was just a complete idiot whose brain short circuited at the feeling of another person touching him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in relationships before. He had but they hadn’t lasted longer than a few months before he lost interest or they got fed up with his consistent need to be moving. With you, you seemed to have captivated his interest the moment he met you. He remembered the day so vividly – how you’d walked into the mansion looking lost, almost scared. He’d been zooming through the halls but had come to a comedic halt when he spotted you. Introductions had been made thanks to him worming his way into Hank who had been giving you a tour of the place and it had gone from there. 

Peter found himself wanting to make you smile. On those dark, dreary days where he got lost in his own mind, the image of you smiling could always make things seem a little brighter. The fact you’d been moping around the mansion for the last week just didn’t sit well with him at all. If he had to take you to the drive-in himself then so be it. He could totally sit through a movie with you. Totally.

…so, maybe he couldn’t. Being in a car in the first place was enough for him to go on a rant about how he was much faster and cars were pointless to him but then there was the fact that he had to sit still for at least two hours. It was enough to drive the poor man crazy. A form of torture. His eyes darted around the place, the car full of all the candy wrappers the two of you had been eating since you’d first drove in. His deep brown eyes zoned in on you, the corners of his lips quirking up into a soft smile. Just watching you focus on the movie was enough to calm him, the knee he’d been bouncing up and down slowly coming to a halt. How was it you could make him such a mess yet so calm at the same time? Realising he should probably stop staring at you before he seemed like a creep, he eyed the last Twinkie sitting in the middle of you both.

His hand reached out to grab it but you must have had the same thought because he felt your fingers brushing against his. Peter instantly looked up, his eyes catching yours. “You tryna steal the last Twinkie from me, huh?”

“You were trying to steal it from me!” You protested, cheeks flushing. The feeling of his fingers touching your skin still sending shockwaves through you.

“Me, steal? Never. Can’t believe you’d accuse me of such a thing.”

“Okay, Mr Kelpto.”

Using his super speed, Peter quickly snatched the Twinkie, unwrapping it. “Okay, here’s an idea. I’ll eat from one end and you eat from the other. I won’t even cheat and use my super speed to eat more than you,” Peter stuffed one end in his mouth before you could reply, his hand gesturing for you to take the other end.

Peter could feel his heart beating a mile a minute as he began to chew the sugary treat. The closer the two of you got to the middle, the more he realised how stupid of an idea it was. Like, really? What did he think was going to happen? That was the problem – he didn’t think. Peter got an idea and rolled with it without really thinking next. He was almost certain his heart was about to beat out of his chest and fall into his lap as his face got closer to yours. Then he felt it, your lips gently brushing against his as the two of you ate the final piece. That was all it took for his brain to once again short circuit. Throwing all caution to the wind, his hand reached behind the back of your neck to pull you closer, eyes closing at the sensation of your lips against his. The kiss was cautious at first, Peter’s soft lips moving slowly against yours but when he felt your hand resting on his thigh, he gained the confidence to test the waters a little bit more. His tongue darted out across your bottom lip hoping and praying you wouldn’t push him away. When you parted your lips, he felt like he was actually going to ascend into the heavens. There was no way this was actually happening. Was he about to wake up and find out he was dreaming the whole time? He damn well hoped not.

Peter finally, eventually pulled away. His forehead rested against yours, a breathless laugh passed his lips. He took in your face, the slight red tint to your cheeks, your swollen lips and messy hair – he was making sure to take a mental photograph to look back on. This wasn’t something he wanted to forget anytime soon. Not that he wanted to ruin the moment but he had to speak. The silence unsettled him.

“Lady and The Tramp ain’t got nothin’ on us, babe,” he finally pulled away. He gently smoothed your hair down, reluctantly pulling his hand away from you. The music playing in the background caught his attention. His eyes darted to the movie screen seeing the credits rolling. “Oh, shit. We missed the end.”

“...eh, I’m not complaining,” your hands rested on the steering wheel as if you needed to ground yourself from that Earth shattering kiss. The only thought in your brain was how badly you wanted to do it again.

“Yeah? Should I start carrying Twinkies around with me everywhere now?” He raised his brows, leaning back against his cheek with a smirk.

“Yeah, you definitely should.”

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ldydeath @jazz-berry @lemoniiiiiii @bohnerrific69 @lacucarachapisser @honeymoon8 @evanpetersbf

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 100)

The sound of light snoring filled a 16 year old boys bedroom in the wee hours of the dusk, the wall adorned with guitars on racks and band posters displaying men with long hair.

His blankets were a charcoal black, his sheets a dark grey. On his desk lie a machine glowing with RGB, and whirring softly, and his seating options consisted of haphazardly arranged bean bags.

“Nico! ¡Levántate! ¡tienes tu turno en la puerta del búnker hoy!” Came harshly from the living room, and a drone with a mop of black hair grumbled, emerging from his nest of blankets like a member of the undead.

His purple eyeslights flickered on just to display his groggniess- another night of fitful sleep.

“Comin abuela!” He calls out in return, throwing the blankets off him and stumbling into the bathroom where he brushed his shoulder length hair and cleaned his teeth.

The only thing he was wearing was a pair of long black shorts, his hair was a mess, and when he looked at himself in the mirror he looked like a disheveled shelter dog.

“Ugh. Fuck me…”

He sighed as he gathered up clothes to wear for his shift guarding the front door, with everything going on, older students had the choice to volunteer to help with different projects instead.

And he'd take security work over a stuffy classroom any day.

He slid on a grey shirt and green cargo pants before fumbling around in his room to find his brown aviator jacket and matching goggles, then dug in his nightstand to find his service weapon- a 9mm pistol that would do nothing against a threat that wasn't a normal drone.

He strapped it to his hip and opened the the door to the living room where his grandmother was watching some kind of reality TV show, her legs covered in a knitted blanket.

“Morning.” He gave a half grin to her slightly yellowed frame, she smiled back, faded blue eyelights blinking at him.

“Buenos días mijo. Casi pensé que no te levantarías” She hummed, gently taking his hand as she couldn't quite see him even in his close proximity.

“Nada…No me iría de casa indefenso.” He replied before sighing. “Por favor, usa tus gafas abuela…”

She shook her head. “Ah, no. Not like it will help anyway.” She switched to english, probably not even realizing she'd switched at all. “You be safe mijo! Don't be a idiota!”

He chuckled softly. “Done enough of being stupid… no worries. See you when I get back.”

He shut the door behind him, stopping to stand just in front of his door to watch several people walk by- a deadpan expression seeping onto his face.

“Let's get this over with…”

He traipsed down the hall towards the bunker doors. Getting shoulder checked and ignored all the way through; he was decently tall for a worker drone but that didn't stop people from not caring enough to get out of his way.

It was kind of his luck. Hell, his whole families luck it seemed. He should've been named Murphy, because every single bad thing that could happen; did.

His father was murdered outside the bunker before he was even born, and his mother only took care of him for the first four years of his life before dumping him on her mother and bailing. He couldn't parse her out from the crowd even if she was still around.

So it was just him and his dear Abuela, and it had been for most of his life, which he was fine with, she was a lovely woman and had raised him well. Though recently her opticals had begun to fail…

Just another thing added to the list of mundane and shitty aspects of his life.

Why couldn't his problems be more fantastical? At least then he could be miserable and interesting instead of miserable and bored to fucking death.

He reached the front of the bunker on complete autopilot, settling into his post next to the open door, snow blistering around him while he leaned against the frozen concrete.

Despite how lonely it often got, he did find himself enjoying his time out here, one earbud in his audials while he watched the ship that would take them all away from here be built.

He'd actually begun as a welder, and was pretty good at it too- the only problem being that he was too impatient for it, he would get into a flow and then burn his hands because he wasn't paying attention… so now he was put on simple security.

“Hey Nico. Just get here?” His watch partner and now, one of his close friends patting his shoulder as she walked by with a piping hot cup of gasoline for the both of them.

“Hey Nellie. Yeah. Kinda slept in…” He replied, looking into the girls green eyelights and near silvery hair that hung down to the small of her back.

“Boss should be back from the expedition today with the ‘cords. All that's left after that is preparing that monstrosity to go.” She pointed to the ship, now being coated in heat shielding for its cone and underbelly.

“You think it'll actually work? Some of that shits starting to get in our pipes now… it's gonna get impossible to clean out soon.”

She shrugged. “If it don't, I say let's have one last hurrah until we all munched, if the planets gonna take everything; let's not let it take our joy too…”

“And if it does?”

She laughed. “Then I'll kiss you. How about that?”

He blushed at that, looking away sheepishly. “I think I'd take you up on that.”

The air cracked with supersonic pressure, alerting both drones to a yellow blur quickly decending, preparing to land just in front of them and they both braced themselves, snow getting flung everywhere as something big and mechanical landed with a loud thud.

After everything settled, what remined standing before them was tall, formidable, and had a long tail with a stinger. A Murder Drone…

Carrying a small, feisty, visibly pregnant little worker, and both were smiling like idiots.

“You said slow.”

“That was slow!”

“You broke the sound barrier!”

Nico felt his features soften. Good, they were both back in one piece, and it seems to have went well If their playful bickering was anything to go by.

…

There was one more reason he really enjoyed being out here, instead of in there.

“Mama! Papa!” Little Tera was calling from the arms of a drone with blonde hair and white eyelights, reaching out for her parents as N nearly ran to take her out of the workers arms.

“Oh hello my baby bat! Papi missed you yes he did!” He spun her, making a cascade of happy giggles escape her mouth.

Nico smiled at the sight, feeling his heart swell before a pang of deep regret hit him like a truck.

It wasn't supposed to be this way…

That night with Chloe was supposed to be fun, no consequence. She'd told him she was sixteen too, acted like she'd never done anything before right up until she absolutely blew his mind- but he'd chalked it up to it being his first time.

Then; nothing. Radio silence, he didn't see her in his classes, didn't see her in the halls or any other party he'd went to, like she'd been a ghost.

Until she called him five months later to meet her at the nursery.

He thought the meeting place was odd, but at the time didn't seem to care, he was just excited to see her again, being unable to wipe the night from his memory- he'd wanted something more substantial ever since then…

What he arrived to, was her holding a pillbaby put with one hand- which she dropped unceremoniously into his arms before just walking away without explaining a damn thing.

He didn't need one though. He knew the moment the babies eyes opened and he was staring into his own eyelights, when her mouth opened to let out a coo and she weakly rolled into into him.

He held her close, alone aside from Mrs.Rayn in the nursery, having to sit down because his legs threatened to give out underneath him.

At first… he just admired her, she was mostly inert now having been just transferred and having no life experience other then him in that moment. But she was perfect in every way.

Then he… thought about how he'd have to adjust, he'd have to drop out of school, move out- but… he couldn't move out, abuela couldn't see very well and without him she could hurt herself…

Okay… so he couldn't move out, that's fine. So it was drop out, keep taking care of his grandmother and the new addition, and get a job so he could make sure she'd have toys and extra bottles and all the oil she needed.

But… taking care of the both of them would be a full time job- he couldn't be out all day and expect his grandmother to help raise yet another baby.

He started to tremble when he made that revelation. How absolutely upset his grandmother was going to be at him, how utterly impossible it would be to try and juggle everything this little baby would need at the age of 16.

And he started to cry uncontrollably, hugging her tightly as his heart unraveled out onto the floor. Ugly sobs wracking through his body as he went through the last… and most viable option. To leave her here.

Yet he still stayed for another hour, basking in his daughter's presence, memorizing it to the best of his ability.

He'd given her a name- even knowing it would never be used.

Mariposa, his little butterfly.

And then, he went to the front desk, legs feeling like lead and with shaky breaths, and handed her to Mrs. Rayn.

She didn't even have time to ask a question before he was gone, not being able to bear being there a second longer without breaking down into more tears.

When he got back to his room, he collapsed in a heap of despair. Sitting on the edge of his bed just staring into space, the weight of what he'd done threatening to crush him.

After an hour of that. He called Chloe, she didn't pick up but he didn't exactly need her to. He just needed to fucking scream.

So he did.

He left a thirty minute long expletive filled rant as a message before throwing his phone in fit of absolute rage and then collapsing as tears ran down the inside of his visor again.

He had a daughter, a pillbaby with his code and the circumstances of her birth and his life had made it impossible for him to be there for her in the way he wanted to be.

He knew, realistically, this was the best choice for both of them, he wouldn't have to uproot everything and she would have a much higher quality of life, she'd have two parents who'd love her instead of just him, a 16 year old boy who barely knew how to take care of himself.

The next morning, and the day after that, and the day after that he went to visit her secretly, giving her tickles or admiring her before he went to school. His heart hurting knowing that there was going to be a day soon where she'd be gone.

And then the day came.

And she was gone.

He was brought back to the moment by a happy laugh, Tera pulling her mother's beanie off as she climbed her head, looking overjoyed to be with her parents.

She was so happy now, so energetic, so wild and carefree, he felt cemented in his choice, that it was the right one. But sometimes he was simply just jealous of her new parents; despite the fact they seemed wonderful.

They got to experience her first words, first steps, spoil her rotten. All the things he wanted to do, to be the dad he never got to have.

“Papi! Happy! Mama!” She yelped out a short string of words, beaming happily as the family went inside. Resting on her mother's shoulder- they made eye contact.

She recognized him, not as her dad but… as someone she knew. Her mouth tilted upwards and she gave him a happy wave, kicking her feet.

He gave a small, bittersweet wave in return.

[solarenchanting]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎

❙ because she was there too.

── .✦ IEIRI SHOKO x FEM!READER

“you know, it’s okay to admit that you’re hurting, my love,” you murmured softly, fingers tracing small circles on her back.

shoko hummed in response. tired and relaxed, resting her head against your chest with her ear directly over where your heart was, listening to each steady beat.

it soothed the tension in her shoulders. she stayed silent, laying on top of you, nestled between your legs with her arms wrapped lazily around you.

if she were honest, you were the only person who ever saw her like this: completely at ease, putty in your hands as you ran your fingers through her long hair, one arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. moments like this, as rare as they were, meant everything to her.

she had only ever shown this kind of vulnerability to you twice in her life—at least, according to her.

“yaga told me that he caught you smoking,” you murmur, glancing down at her. your gaze softened at her exhausted figure. “i would have appreciated hearing it from you, you know?”

of course, shoko knew.

she’d promised herself—and to you—to leave her vices behind years ago. she knew you weren’t angry—at least, but not really. but the quiet disappointment lingered, a gentle ache that reminded her of all her past failures, harder to face than anything else.

her fingers tightened ever so slightly around your waist, a silent acknowledgement of the slip, as if she was bracing for your reaction. but you don’t say anything more, simply let your hand move through her hair with slow, comforting strokes.

“mmh,” shoko hummed softly, her voice barely a whisper as her head remained on your chest. “i know. ‘m sorry. was just… feeling nostalgic.”

a sad sigh escaped your lips, your chest rising and falling briefly. you couldn’t bring yourself to let the disappointment linger, not when you understood what she meant.

nostalgia.

that was her shorthand for the memories she rarely spoke of—memories that lingered like the smoke of her cigarettes, clinging onto her long after they were gone.

you remembered how casually she revealed everything that transpired between her and her best friends—gojō satoru and getō suguru—in the few months of your relationship.

despite knowing that you’d never fully fathom the weight of the pain she carried beneath her words, you still found yourself asking how she was processing those events.

her reaction to your question ingrained itself in your mind. it happened in a split second, yet it replays in your memory in slow motion: the widening of her eyes, the slight shift of the dark circles beneath them.

the way her fingers flexed as she held her cigarette, as though they recoiled from some unseen touch. even the gentle stream of smoke wavered, disturbed by the lapse.

the way her lips parted, as if she’d speak, before curving itself into that familiar smirk—a quick retreat back to her practised nonchalance.

it was all you needed to know.

you’d learned, almost by habit now, never to push her. instead, your hand moved in gentle, steady circles along her back, hoping she’d feel how deeply you understood without needing to say a word. she didn’t need to speak—the quiet rhythm of your touch was enough.

“it’s okay to admit that you’re hurting.”

you murmured again, breaking the silence with a quiet yet steady conviction. as though urging her to honour the depth of her pain—the years she’d carried it, hidden beneath her skin.

“because you were there too, shoko.”

❙ a/n: my second fic?? and it's literally after a month and a day after my geto suguru one?? crazy !! but also, i'm happy i finally got to post something for once! now it's out of the google docs :) also, i apologise if the pacing feels rushed and out of place—i just wrote it on a whim !!

nonetheless, may whoever stumbles upon this piece enjoy it ! much love from me to you ! <33

[moonperil6]

Shut up, doofus, and just kiss me already

A/N: For someone so chill, Jason is really fun to write fanfics about. (No I don't have a crush on him what are you talking about)

Pairing: Jason Grace x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Reader being possessed, mentions of knocking the bad boy supreme out.

Requested?: Nope!

Jason watched as you squirmed in your bonds, pure golden eyes darting around as the eidolon inside of you searched for an escape.

He felt his heart leap into his throat as you focused on him, narrowing your eyes to slits.

Then you gasped, the gold clearing from your now wide eyes as you sat up straight and stiff.

“J-jason?” Your voice was barely a rasp from all of the screaming and shouting at your friends to get away from you before the eidolon made you hurt them. 

When they didn’t back off, the eidolon stuck true to its word, evident by the scraps on Jason’s biceps, and the gash right below his jaw. Frank had had to carry Leo out -though unwillingly, he made sure everyone knew that- for the Latino was knocked out cold.

You winced at the memory, remembering how Jason had to hold back Percy from knocking you out.

“No one is hurting her,” he had stated firmly, though through gritted teeth as he held Percy back by the shoulders. “Not now. Not ever. Not under my watch. Eidolon or no.”

Your eyes had softened, just for a millisecond, but Annabeth had taken the opportunity, crashing the hilt of her dagger into your skull.

You had crumpled to the floor, darkness crowding your vision, eyes flickering back to normal.

“What did I just say?” Jason demanded, crouching in front of you, looking over your shoulder at Annabeth, who only shrugged. 

“It seemed like the best option,” Annabeth had tried to defend herself, though rather halfheartedly. 

You had reached out, gripping Jason’s hand. “Probably was the best option.” It was true, you did believe that knocking you out was the best thing anyone could do.

Then you had blacked out.

“Hey.” Jason’s voice was gentle and angelic, and you cursed yourself for thinking the latter. “It’s not your fault.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could, your throat seized up and you felt yourself lose control of your body as the eidolon returned. “I don’t know what this halfblood sees in you,” you sneered, and you inwardly curled into a ball, not wanting to hear the rest of what the eidolon would make you say. “Because you’re right. It’s not her fault.” You watched as you narrowed your eyes. “You should have protected her better, and then maybe I wouldn’t be here,” you hissed.

Jason stumbled back like you’d struck him. You wanted to scream, ‘Don’t show your pain. It’ll only make it worse! Where did your poker face go?!’ 

But you couldn’t. You could only watch as the eidolon inside you chuckled, pleased that he got a reaction out of Jason. “You’ll never be a good enough hero for her. For anyone, actually. She’ll never look to you to protect her. Never trust you, nor give her faith. She’ll never love you.”

Jason opened his mouth, hurt etched clearly on his face, but just then, Piper burst into the room. She gave you a long, concerned look before turning to Jason. “Is she ready?” Your friend asked. 

“Yes.” Jason’s voice was heartbreaking to listen to. “Do it now please.”

Piper took a deep breath before starting. She looked you right in your golden eyes. “Eidolon, stop possessing this demigod.”

“N-never.” The once proud eidolon was falling to Piper’s charmspeak. 

With renewed confidence, she continued. “You’ll leave and never come back, never possess any other person on this ship, and most importantly, you’ll leave now.” 

There was so much force in her words, you felt the eidolon slip out of your mind almost immediately. Your eyes returned to their normal color and you groaned, shutting them almost completely. 

When you opened them back up fully, you found Jason kneeling in front of you, clutching your now untied hands. Without a second thought, you threw your arms around his neck and rested your chin on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Jace,” you said, pulling away again.

“Don’t apologize,” he responded, glancing down briefly at your still interlocked hands. “If anyone should be apologizing it’s me. What the eidolon said- he was right-”

You didn’t let him finish, instead leaning up to put your lips on his. He took that as a shut up, doofus, and just kiss me already.

He gladly complied.

[novankenn]

Jaune Arc of Orleans

Words of Woe Tidings

Jaune found himself walking through a quiet forest. The air was still, but cool. The foliage surrounding him was vibrant shades of green. Jaune had been in this place before. Many times in fact. It was here that he conversed with the Light. This was a place of reverence to Jaune. A sanctuary from the harsh realities of his reality.

He continued to walk through the glade, following a well worn foot path, that cut through the mossy undergrowth. There was no sound. Not the buzz of insects nor the chirp of birds. Not even the rustle of leaves in a soft breeze. No there was only peaceful grave like silence.

Jaune never could fathom the distances he would traverse in this place. Sometimes he was but a couple steps from the clearing. Other times, much like this it felt as if he had been walking for minutes if not hours. Yet, like always he entered the small clearing, and at the nexus of multiple worn walking trails it sat.

A stone chair, much like how a throne would be depicted in fantasy artwork. It's glossy black surface speckled with flecks of white. It resembled a discarded fragment of the night sky. However this time, unlike the others the Light was not seated upon it. In fact there was no sign of that ethereal being, within the confines of the clearing.

Jaune was confused and concerned. Never in any of his travels to this sacred place had this happened. Never had he ever been in the clearing alone. The rustle of leaves and the snap of branches startled Jaune, causing him to whip about and look behind himself.

His eyes grew wide as he stumbled backwards the color draining from his terror twisted face. It was a massive creature of ink-like flesh, blazing violent red eyes, and bleached bone colored plates. It's great maw was open, displaying fouled dagger like teeth, a twisting sinuous tongue and dripping viscus drool.

The creature stepped from edge of the clearing into full view, and Jaune's body collapsed to the ground, all his strength having fled him. It stalked forward, it's great hooved feet crushing the vibrant grass into the dirt.

Jaune wanted to scream. He wanted to cry for help, but his voice was trapped with in his dry throat. Completely helpless he watched as the abomination closed upon him.

Jaune noticed a blur of motion out of the corner of his right eye. A fraction of a moment later an equally as tall, but not nearly as massive being of golden light slammed into the monster's side. The massive antlers forming a regal crown upon its head. Jaune knew who if was... there was no doubt. The Light had come to save him.

Still unable to use his voice Jaune just watched as a pitched battle ensued between the the Light and the monstruous beast. A fist composed of golden light slammed into the creature's jaw filling the air with the sound of snapping bone, followed by an agonized howl. Yet still the beast fought. Curved claws of bone slash and racked the air, narrowly missing the Light, as it ducked and weaved around the brutally powerful strikes.

The Light ducked to the side, under a wild slash of the creature's claws, and locked its sleek but powerful arms about the beast's neck. Jaune swallowed as corded muscles flexed, the abomination squealed in rage and pain, then fell silent. Jaune found some of his strength returning and quickly climbed to his knees and bowed low before the being of gold.

"The darkness even now still tries to invade my sanctuary." the Light spoke its voice sounding like the light chiming of bells. "Are you well, Jaune?"

"I am, thank you for saving me, my Lord."

"I would be indeed a poor host if I were to allow harm to befall those who I invite to refuge. Look upon me, Jaune."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Flesh of shadows, armor of bone, and eyes a burning red approach you." the Light spoke, his featureless face aimed directly at Jaune.

"Are we going to be attacked?" Jaune asked.

"Awaken Jaune, darkness encroaches..."

"My Lord?"

"Awaken Jaune, death approaches..."

"My Lord, I..."

"Awaken Jaune, awaken..." the Light passed one of its great hands past Jaune's face.

Jaune's eyes snapped open and he bolted to seating upon his bed. He was drenched in sweat, and gasping for breath.

==> Table of Contents <==

[ribbonsaikeaux]

Fragment Reaper: Humanity

"Now, I have to ask this darling, are you ABSOLUTELY sure about this? This is no going back, and you will be irrevocably mine. There is no way to back out after the process starts." Madeline asks pointedly.

Sara looks up at her from the uncomfortable chair she was sitting in through her tired eyes. She looks down, anxiously rubbing the bandage on her wrist, wincing.

"Yes, im sure" she responds in an empty voice. No feeling or emotion behind it, just a statement of fact. This is what she wanted.

Madeline smiles warmly, resting a hand on her head. Sara instinctively flinches in response and Madeline frowns, crouching down.

"You've been through a lot haven't you dear..." the sentence was phrased as a question, but it was a statement.

Sara stared back with her lifeless eyes and nods.

"Oh dear... may I hug you?" Madeline asks, opening her arms.

The idea of being touched made Sara recoil. She shook head head so hard her brain hurt. "No!" She caught herself and softened her tone. "Please don't..."

Madeline smiled reassuringly and nodded; dropping her arms. "As you wish dear." She says as she stands, walking out of the circle. "Are you ready?"

Sara simply nodded blankly.

"Then here we go." Madeline said and started chanting.

The runes beneath Sara started to glow a pale white, engulfing her. She could feeling the energy passing through her body, twisting and warping it, her skin hardening into porcelaine. She felt a momentary sense of vertigo as her body shrank, leaving her standing around three feet.

Suddenly, it was as if everything stopped. The wisps of light hanging in the air. Madeline frozen in position. Sara looked around, confused.

From the corner of the room, emerged a cloaked figure; its face hidden under a large hood. Frightened, Sara stood and stepped back.

"Wh-what do you want?! Wh-who are you?!" She asked frantically, stumbling backwards. She paused a moment, confused, as she had just stepped backward through... herself?

"Wh-what's going on?! A-am I... d-dead?!" She screamed, looking around frantically, trying to get a grasp on the situation.

The figure approached slowly. A soft, lilting, voice came from the darkness. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

Sara wailed. "No! I-I didn't WANT to die! That's why I came here!" She shouted as she backed away from the approaching figure.

"Shhh. It's okay. You're alright. Your soul isn't dead. Just the part of you that was human." The figure reached out a pale, snow white, hand. "I'm simply here to let you rest."

The voice of the figure felt so calming, so reassuring. The tension dropped from Saras' spirit. "What... do you mean?"

"You're humanity has only ever hurt you. I've seen your scars. Even the ones you hide. You were never meant for a human life. That part of you is in the process of dying. Once the spell is complete, you will be no more. However," it said, reaching out and resting its hand on her cheek. "You have suffered much, and deserve a proper rest."

To her own surprise, Sara didn't flinch. The hand on her cheek was pleasantly warm. Soothing. For the first time, in what felt like her entire life, she felt at peace. The feeling radiated through her and she smiled.

"I-is... is this what happiness feels like" she asked.

"Yes sweetie." The figure responded, a hint of a smile in its voice.

"Thank you..." Sara replied astonished.

"Of course hun" the figure said grasping her hand; a white portal appearing in front of them.

"Wait. Please. I-I wanna ask something..." Sara said nervously.

"Yes, dear. That one will be fine. It will be happy, and loved, and given Purpose. Everything you desired."

Sara nodded and smiled, tears whelling in her eyes. "Thank you for that." She said as they walked towards the portal. She took a brief moment to look back, speaking to her new self. "Good luck little doll." With those last words, the pair walked through the portal.

Time restarted once again, the spell coming to its conclusion. As the light faded, the new doll looked around stretching and flexing, adjusting to its new form. It smiled, looking up at Miss Madeline and jumping up excitedly; running over and giving her a tight embrace.

"Miss! Thank you so much!" It exclaimed happily.

Miss Madeline smiled and squeezed the doll so tight. "Of course little one!" Giving a final squeeze, Miss Madeline rested her hands on the dolls' arms. "Hmmm... you need a name, don't you... what do you think?"

The doll giggled and nodded exuberantly. "Yes Miss! That'd be great!" It said excitedly.

Miss Madeline chuckled, gently stroking the dolls hair. "Hmm... I think I'll call you... Star!"

Star looked up at its witch in amazement. "It loves it Miss!" It exclaimed happily.

Miss Madeline hugged the doll close, smiling at it lovingly. "I'm so glad that you do.

When the emrace ended, the bandages unvravelled from Stars' smaller arm, exposing a set of cracks on its wrists. It stared at it for a moment, a pang of sadness filling its core.

Miss Madeline frowned, but quickly regained her composure and smiled, covering the cracks with her hand.

"Don't worry about that dear. We'll get that filled in. I'll even let you choose the metal."

Star bounced excitedly. "Really?!"

Miss Madeline giggled. "Yes little one."

"Yay! It wants silver. Can it have silver?" The doll asked.

Taking her new dolls' and and guiding it up the stairs, the witch responds. "Very nice choice! We'll go do it right now!"

"EEEEEE!" Came Stars' excitedly reply. It paused amount on the stairs, looking up at its witch.

"Miss?"

"Yes star?"

"This one loves you so much!" It said adoringly.

"Ohhh!" Miss Madeline said, leaning down and kissing it head. "I love you too little star!"

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

I love it when I get this kind of hint while playing a horror game because it immediately makes me go

[chimerafeathers]

[ on youtube ]

a concept for the type of OP i'd love to see for the second season of Dungeon Meshi! both s1 OPs are great, but i'm really hoping for one that captures both the "dangerous fantasy adventure" and "comedic cooking adventure" aspects of the series in equal measure, because it's the integration of those two concepts that makes the series special to me. the joyous whimsy and the dramatic horrors are equally important!!

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Deep in the Bowels of Gluttony

I am forcing more CAVE WHUMP into your enclosure (with an added dash of inspiration from my favorite national park that I can never visit ✨)

Suggested Vibe: Duma’s Scourge from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (youtube)

←Previous - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: a lot of gore. eating is involved in the goriness if you couldn’t tell. it is also very gross. Wow! Oh and there is a little bit of burning

By the time Erebus finished crying, his hand had grown back.

He hadn’t even realized it at first, too caught up with gut-wrenching sobs to be aware of anything else besides how much his head hurt, how hard it was to breathe, how terrified he was to be in this strange place all alone, how he might never make it back home, or even back to his cell, how hopeless he felt, how-how-And then he’d noticed the stump of his left hand, no longer ending in a jagged tear, little strings of skin dangling off of it, but a-it was growing, it had to be, those little white nubs poking out of the mass of muscle had to be the bones of his hand, bones that had definitely been…Before he knew it he was crying in earnest again, his body’s sudden strange capability to repair itself overshadowed by the trauma of the past hour, fear and exhaustion replacing awe and relief, because even if he could heal, it didn’t change the fact that he was stuck here, now saddled with the possibility that not even death could set him free.

If there was one good thing about this world, it was the fact that he was more alone than he’d ever been, and no one knocked on the door to interrupt his crying, no one commented on the redness of his eyes or asked him if he was okay too soon after he’d started to calm down. He caught his breath slowly, peacefully, washing the tears off his face using the fresh water from one of the pools near the sea, scrubbing the dried blood from his perfectly healed arm, revealing a ring of scar tissue around his wrist. The thought that neither of these hands were the ones he was born with almost sent him into another spiral, but he shook his head and put it out of his mind. That was enough for today. 

Today…Frowning, he looked up at the sky. Its blackness hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d arrived here, and something told him it wouldn’t anytime soon. Even back in the windowless cell, he’d had meals and Neteri’s visits to help him keep track of the passage of time, but now there was just…nothing. It was all down to whatever cycle of waking and sleeping he fell into, and given how tired he was now, he was ready to get that started. 

Walking back to his pack, left at the base of the cliffs, he noticed his leg was no longer in pain, either. Once he arrived, he pulled the knife out and used it to slice the stitches still woven through his flesh, wincing a bit as he pulled the thread out. The holes left behind healed quickly enough that he could ignore them and busy himself finding a good place to lay his bedroll for the…night? For now. 

He ended up settling down along the cliffside, too afraid to lie out in the open despite how quiet it was here, and it wasn’t long before his exhausted body gave in to sleep.

When Erebus woke up, the sky was the same empty black as before, and it was impossible to tell how long he’d slept for, but he felt rested enough despite the circumstances. So now he was just supposed to…wander until he found something? He considered flying to get a better idea of what was around, but he decided it would be better to save his strength for the next fight. Since crossing the sea was out of the question, he headed back into the rocky maze he’d first arrived in. Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a cave, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain rising even higher than the cliffs around him.

If the demons were tied to elements like their counterparts, the dragons, then whatever one was tied to the element of earth was definitely in that cave. His instincts screamed at him not to go into the dark, cramped space where his wings likely would be more of a hindrance than a help, but if he was going to get out of this place, then he’d have to go in eventually. So best to get it over with while he was here.

Erebus had never been inside of a cave, but he’d heard about how beautiful they could be, and…how dangerous. But he’d be okay. He could heal, for some reason. He’d be fine. He could handle this. He had to.

Burying his doubts, Erebus headed inside the cave, almost immediately tripping over a small, rounded protrusion of stone. They littered the ground, and the ceiling, too, their lengths varying. He’d have to take care to avoid them, then. 

Soon enough, though, the ground began to slope downwards, and the dim gray light streaming in from the cave’s entrance began to fade, not enough for even his new eyes to see with. It wasn’t long before he was stumbling along in the dark, unsure how much progress he was making, or if he was even headed in the right direction. He could be a couple steps away from a dead end, for all he knew. Or even a cl-At that moment, Erebus’s boot caught on a rock, his desperate grasps for something to catch himself on meeting empty air, and now he was falling, spinning, bouncing off the uneven stone, everything was slippery enough to slide out of his grasp but hard enough to break his bones, faster and faster until-

Cold. Deep cold, water, he was underwater, he had to get to the surface, had to find it in this spinning dark void, no way to tell which way is up, which way is death, swimming flailing reaching-his hand broke the surface, and he worked his way up desperately, his sodden clothes and heavy sword making it difficult, but he made it, he breathed, he coughed, he dragged himself out and laid on the bumpy stone next to the water’s edge, panting as his body throbbed and stung with a hundred cuts and bruises. Of course he hurt himself before even finding the demon. Of course. If only he had some way to know if he was even going in the right direction, but no, he was just supposed to stumble around in the dark.

One of his horns hurt, and upon poking at it gently, he found that the tip had broken off, exposing the tender flesh inside. Not like they served any purpose, besides telling him where…wait. What he wanted most was to get out of here and go home. To get out of here, he’d have to fight all the demons. Starting with the one hidden somewhere in this cave. So, by that logic, what he wanted most was to find the demon in these caves. He closed his eyes, not that it changed anything, and drilled that thought into his head. He needed to find that demon. Wanted to. Had to.

Erebus couldn’t help but smile as his horns started to tingle ever-so-slightly. 

It took some time to get used to navigating the cave based on the feeling in his horns. The changes in sensation were rather subtle, so it was difficult to tell immediately after changing course if he was heading the right way. It would have been much easier if he could take a direct path, but the twists and turns of the cave forced him to switch directions constantly, sometimes leading him to dead ends or passages he was too large to squeeze through. Progress was slow, but he was making progress, he was, the tingling was stronger now, his scrapes and bruises from his fall earlier had healed, and his clothes were beginning to dry, despite the cave air being rather cool.

Well, now that he thought about it, the air had grown warmer than when he’d first entered. He’d been so freezing from his wet clothes that he hadn’t realized it until now, but it was definitely getting warmer. That had to be a good thing, right? It wasn’t getting any lighter, unfortunately, so he was still stuck feeling his way along through the darkness, nothing but the tingling sensation in his horns to guide him, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.

It was getting warmer and warmer, hot now, and humid, the stickiness of the air reminding him of summers back home. Were caves supposed to be this hot? He’d been grateful for the warmth at first, but now he was sweating profusely, the thick, moist air making it somewhat difficult to breathe as he clambered up slopes and squeezed through small gaps, the feeling in his horns growing so intense he was starting to get a headache, made even worse by the slightly rotten smell that was starting to permeate the air.

Erebus stopped at the edge of some sort of drop-off. It was impossible to tell how far down it went, only that it was longer than his arm. He’d been scared of this, of having to fly while blind. Out of breath, he sat to rest for a moment, letting the slight breeze cool him off a tiny bit, wishing it didn’t smell so rancid.

Wait…breeze?

The air was moving, pulsing past him in a hot wave, and then a cooler gust in the opposite direction. It was rhythmic, over and over, back and forth, in and…in and out. 

Breathing. It was breathing.

If-if Erebus could feel its breathing, and the intense heat from its body, its stench, then it must be close, just off that ledge maybe, after all this time wandering around in the dark he’d finally found the next demon. With renewed energy, he stood and drew his sword. He’d have to approach this carefully, making sure he didn’t fly straight into the wall instead of hitting his target. After waving his hand over his head and not feeling anything above him, Erebus carefully took flight. It was difficult to move so slowly in the air, especially as he started to head down, but he didn’t want to risk falling who knows how far and landing on who knows what. 

Feeling his feet catch on something, he tried to land, but the ground beneath was slippery and almost gave way beneath him, causing him to fall for the second time today. Thankfully, he landed on something soft, though it was weirdly wet and sort of slimy, like…Erebus cried out and scurried back, but everything he touched was the same, squishy and warm and smooth and…and…It was flesh. All around him. He-he’d somehow flown into the demon’s mouth, he must have, its breath was rushing by him with even more force now, the nauseating scent of rot all around him. He had to get out. He just had to fly up. He could do this. He’d be fine. 

But…where was his sword?

He’d dropped it in his panic, like an idiot, and now he needed to find it. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the demons without it, and then he’d never be able to go home, never see another person again, he couldn’t accept that, he had to calm down, had to focus. He wanted that sword more than anything. It was his way out.

His stomach sank when his horns told him his sword was below him.

There wasn’t any choice but to fall further into the belly of the beast in order to kill it.

He took his time lowering himself, but it was more difficult than before. The heat was making his head throb, not to mention the toll all this flying was taking on him. Being unable to glide was putting a lot more strain on his wings than he’d realized, and though he couldn’t quite feel it through the sheen of sweat covering his face, he tasted the blood dripping out of his nose. By the time the buzzing in his horns peaked and his hand wrapped around the cool hilt of the sword, the world was starting to spin, and he all but collapsed next to the blade, which had buried itself partway in the fleshy ground. 

Erebus didn’t know if he had the energy to stand. The heat and all of that careful flying had sapped all of his strength, leaving him sprawled on the hot, soft flesh of the demon’s insides. Was this it? Was he just stuck here until he fell further and ended up digested? The healing he had for some reason was slow, probably too slow to keep up with stomach acid. He breathed in deeply as the slightly cooler air coming in rushed past him, trying to calm himself down. The demon’s breaths were deep and long, so they were difficult for Erebus to match perfectly, but he tried anyway, the less rancid-smelling air coming in making him feel a little better somehow. But why would…memories of dust, Neteri’s forehead against his, the puff of her breath against his cheeks. Sharing breath. He was sharing breath with this huge demon, gaining a little of its life force as he did so. 

Once he felt well enough to stand, he did so, holding onto his sword for support. He could do this. After bracing himself as best as he could, he started to pull, wincing at the awful squelching sound the blade made as it slid out of the flesh it was buried in. It came out with a sickening pop, squirting what Erebus could only assume was blood all over him. Some of it even landed in his mouth, and it…it tasted good. Really good, like a rich, meaty stew. 

His empty stomach started to growl.

This was a demon. Not a person.

He hadn’t eaten in over a day.

No one would ever know.

He needed energy.

Hands shaking, he pulled out his knife.

Just a little bit. 

It was warm, wet, chewy, almost rubbery, the texture making him gag slightly, but he didn’t care, not when it tasted this good, buttery and savory, little hints of spice dancing through it, shifting from one flavor to another, and he was powerless to stop, grabbing more and slicing it off, shoving it in his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last bite, his hands and face slick with that delicious blood, the perfect sauce to go with his meat, the fingers on his right hand had grown claws at some point, and now he was tearing away at the walls with his hand, ripping chunks off with his teeth, continuing to slice and shred long after he’d eaten his fill, even as the ground below started to shake, a guttural roar drowning out the sounds of flesh tearing and blood dripping, the force of it sending Erebus to the ground, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

What…what had he just done?

How could he be sure there wasn’t anyone else out there in the blackness? 

He could feel the ghosts of his parents watching him, watching their son turn into the monster he looked like. 

He had to get out of here. 

The walls shifted and pulsed as the demon’s breath sped up, roars and moans sounding out so loudly around him it made his head hurt. Its mouth might be closed now, trapping him inside. He’d have to find another way. Or just…make his own.

A large section of one of the walls had already been ravaged, cut and torn away during his frenzied eating, so he resumed work on it, slicing away chunks with his sword now, tossing them to the side instead of bringing them to his mouth. Progress was faster when he could focus, but it was almost impossible to tell how far he’d come, how much he’d carved away, how close he was to breaking through the skin. He came across a more rubbery section and ended up having to almost saw away at it, blood spurting all over him as he went, as if he wasn’t already covered in it. How whole body felt so sticky and sweaty and gross, and all he could think about was washing off somehow after he got out of here.

Blood was flowing out steadily now, coming out with more and more force, and soon enough it was all Erebus could do to hold onto his sword, his anchor buried in the fleshy wall, praying he wouldn’t get swept away by the jet of hot, sticky, delicious-smelling blood. H-he must’ve cut into a major blood vessel. Those shot blood out like crazy, from what he remembered. Maybe this would be enough to kill the demon? Then he’d just be…trapped inside its corpse. For now, it was still very much alive, its roars and moans starting to get louder, more desperate.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath him lurched, and Erebus’s sword slipped out of the cut it was in, sending him tumbling backwards, the river of blood sweeping him away before he could try to stand up, stab the floor, do anything to save himself, but he had to, he couldn’t fall any further down, couldn’t lose the tunnel he’d carved out in this sweltering blackness, couldn’t sink into the sea of blood and digestive acid that was likely waiting for him below, he had to stop somehow, the sword was too long, his wings couldn’t generate lift, nothing to do but desperately scratch at the slippery ground below, dig his claws in, deeper, deeper, deeper, hold on, arm trembling with the effort, he couldn’t afford to let go, to fall, the blood was coming with less force now, the tremors not as frequent, just a little bit longer until…

The great beast fell silent, fell still, its blood merely trickling by now, dripping in imitation of the water in the cave surrounding it. 

Erebus dragged himself to his feet, coughing up blood. He’d tried to keep his mouth closed during the whole ordeal, but some had still made its way in. Was the demon actually dead? It was hard to tell for sure, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He had to get out of here regardless, and any other escape route besides his tunnel was out of the question. Nothing to do but resume work, then, and hope he could get out of here soon.

Time crawled by as Erebus hacked away at the wall, and just when he was starting to think he wasn’t headed towards the surface of this thing’s body, his sword met with a different sort of resistance than before. It wasn’t like the blood vessel, more stretchy and tough, but he was pretty sure he was able to poke through, and soon enough he’d made a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t realize how hot it’d been in there until he was sitting outside it, the cave air unbelievably refreshing after being swallowed up by that rancid heat. 

After feeling around a bit, Erebus decided he must be on the demon’s back or something. The slope down was pretty steep, enough that he wasn’t sure he could walk down effectively in the dark. His wings were still exhausted from flying earlier, so…scooting down very carefully it was. For the first time today, he was able to move downwards at a reasonable pace, not having to be careful of random rocks jutting out of the floor or ceiling. He was starting to get a bit excited to leave these caves and be able to see again. The water in the sloth demon’s domain would be perfect for washing all of this blood off of him, and there were few things he loved more than feeling clean. Already, he was starting to realize everything he’d taken for granted in his previous captivity.

He’d taken light for granted, too, and the moment he saw it, the moment he could see at all, he teared up a bit, but that might have just been because it was bright. Navigating the rest of the way down the demon’s body was much easier now that he could see, and it wasn’t long before he was back on solid ground, nearly running towards the cave exit. Finally. 

The dark, starless sky was a welcome sight, almost as beautiful to him as the small pools of water a little ways away. He was lucky this exit dumped him out closer to the water than the entrance he’d originally gone through had been. Curious, Erebus looked down at himself, and couldn’t help but wince in disgust. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it dried to a brownish-red, cracking a bit around his joints, little pieces of the demon’s flesh caked on here and there. His hair was sticky and matted with it, and the coppery, still tempting tang of it was all he could smell and taste. He’d never been so revoltingly filthy, and he was secretly glad no one was here to see it. 

It was a quick walk to the nearest pool of water, and while it looked a bit different than the other little pools from before, he paid it no mind. Water was water. He fell to his knees in front of it and stuck his hands in, ready to-HOT! Erebus pulled his hands out of the fiery water, screaming as they burned so intensely he could feel it in his very bones. All he could do was lie on his side and wait for them to heal, tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed. None of the water in the sloth demon’s domain had even been warm, so why was it nearly boiling all of a sudden? Unless he wasn’t…

“You really wanted to make a good first impression on me, didn’t you, intruder?”

Blinking away tears, Erebus looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his blood running cold when he saw who had spoken.

It was Shiori.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump

@redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog

@whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump

@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryox

[terpia]

Had an unexpected celebrity encounter

[famewolf]

I want to play Dragon's Dogma 2 so badly!!!! it sucks there was no pre-download option for PC, but thankfully Percy said he'd turn my computer on and download it for me while I'm at work today

probably won't start playing until tomorrow, but I've got my vacation hours all sorted out and I'm rearing to go!

[duckduckngoose]

The urge to go back downstairs to play rlcraft all night instead of sleeping is real

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

[stunie]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”

WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader

sfw. wc: 2.6K. oh how i’ve been wanting to write this since i finished the manga! but individual warnings are below <3

KAJI REN. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ comments about your outfit

“My boyfriend’s real scary y’know.” Your voice falters a bit as you take another step back, hands coming up defensively. “And he’ll be here any moment.”

It’s a lie that you hope sounds convincing— because Kaji coming to save you today may be nothing more than a desperate wish of yours. How would he even find you in a place like this? You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed since you’ve started running, but you’re certain that by now, you and Kaji should have already been inside the bakery, finally getting to taste test the new fruit pastries you’d been dying to get your hands on.

It started off as just a loud whistle your direction, then led to an uncomfortable conversation about how you’re not interested— and that you have a boyfriend. One thing led to another, and somehow you’ve ended up here, out of breath from speed walking and completely lost— and to top it off, the only person near you is the one you’ve been running so desperately from.

You wish Kaji was here already.

“Oh yeah?” The man in front of you takes a step towards you, lips contorting into a sick grin when he sees your hands trembling. “I don't see him.”

Your lips tremble a bit when he reaches you, towering over you with ease. “Don’t you dare touch me.” You warn, “My boyfriend will beat your a—” you yelp as you’re suddenly pulled to the side, stumbling into someone’s chest as they pull you flush against their front.

The familiar scent of candy melts away your fear in a split second.

“Kaji!”

You can tell when you glance at him just once that he isn’t happy. His forehead is damp with sweat, and he looks disheveled, chest rising up and down with labored breaths— he must have been running around trying to find you this entire time.

Your boyfriend clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the man in front of him. “Problem?”

He rips off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck as the man feigns an apology, unapologetic eyes looming over your figure again seconds later. “But y’know man, you should be keeping a closer eye on your girl,” he points to you with a smug smile, “she was practically begging for me to say something with the way she’s dressed.”

“I wasn’t!” You protest, face burning as you tug on ren’s coat. You thought your outfit was cute— and definitely not anything crazy— you double checked. You really did. But he’s pointing at you now, rambling on about how you wanted this— and you can’t help the way tears start to blur your vision.

“Huh?” Kaji snarls, head tilting to leer at the man. The arm around your waist pulls you tighter against his chest, and you hear the angry thumping of his heart. “What'd you say?”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” The man chuckles in defeat. “I was just joking. Wasn’t gonna actually do something to your girl.” he waves him off. “You should lighten up—”

He chokes when Kaji grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him off balance before knocking him backwards, your pursuer falling roughly onto the floor as he winces in pain. “Then get outta here already.” Kaji glares, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand is pressing against your lower back to guide you away.

“And don’t let me catch you looking at my girl again.”

TOGAME JO. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ you wear his jacket

Togame gives you a sleepy smile as he watches you from Miniso’s entrance, excitedly sorting through the newly restocked blind boxes. He was resting his back against the wall behind him when he caught his first glimpse of that guy.

He’s wearing a dark hoodie, head turning back to shamelessly stare your direction as he passes by slowly. It’s enough to get togame back up on his feet immediately, quickly heading your way just as the man reaches to get a feel of your thighs—

“How shameless.” Togame laughs, big hand squeezing painfully into his wrist. “Tryna bother my girl?”

In any other situation, Togame would chuckle at your obliviousness, your headphones cancelling out any noise as your eye catches the cinnamoroll section, letting out an excited gasp as you head that way. You really had no idea.

“M-my bad man.” He stutters, ripping his arm from Togame’s grasp. “Just thought she was my sister— was just gonna tap on her back to grab her attention.”

Togame raises an eyebrow at the lazy excuse, leaning down until the man takes a nervous step back, eyes darting to the side to avoid Togame’s glare. “Sister? That’s my Shishitoren jacket she has on, no?”

The man feels heavy beads of sweat roll down his face when Togame’s hands curl into clenched fists. “You mean to tell me your lil sis is from Shishitoren?”

“I said it was my bad,” he repeats, chuckling nervously. “It won’t happen again okay? I won’t bother her again.”

Togame’s hands return to his pockets. “Won’t let you off so easy next time,” his voice is low as he steps aside to let him off, “so you’d better keep your distance.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. referred to as she/her, ‘your girl’

Umemiya instinctively perks up when he hears two voices behind him, momentarily tuning out your gushing about how cute the little plant kits at barnes and noble are.

“….She's probably taken.”

“Is that her boyfriend behind her? Think she's talking to him.”

There's a chuckle between them. “Doesn’t matter. Go tell her what you just said to me when she's alone.”

“What?” The man laughs. “Ask her if i can grab a handful of that ass?”

More laughter.

Umemiya’s jaw clenches, eyes darting back at you in a flash, and he’s relieved when he sees you’re still gushing about the flower kits— completely oblivious to the two men just beyond this aisle. He’s by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh.” You turn to press a quick kiss against his temple, smiling when he melts into your touch. “Hi, Haji. Did you find a book?”

“Nothing here.” He sighs dramatically, his embrace around your middle tightening just enough for you to barely notice. “But we can grab some of those flower kits.”

“Really?”

“Of course—”

“Hey.” A familiar voice interrupts him with a stifled laugh, followed by a tap on his shoulder. With the roughness, it’s more like a jab— but he lets that slide.

“Ah— your friend, Haji.” Your voice comes off as a mix between a question and a statement.

“Hey, my friend has something to ask your girl.”

Umemiya’s jaw clenches again, and your eyes widen a bit at the sudden change in the atmosphere. The first friend’s hand is swat off of his shoulder in a split second, Umemiya straightening back up to look back at them.

Their first thought is that he’s a lot taller than they had pictured. A lot more muscular too— and they take note of the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “What, you have business with her?”

They flinch at the tone.

“Ah— sorry.” The second friend stutters. “We got the wrong person.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“Ah— what happened?” Your hands delicately cup Sakura’s face, ignoring the way his cheeks instantly turn into a deep shade of scarlet. “N-nothing happened!” He weakly swats at your hand, a futile attempt to dissipate the heat spreading through the tips of his ears.

“I was only in the bathroom for five minutes.” You laugh. “How’d you manage to get into a fight so fast?”

He stiffens when your arms come to wrap around his bicep, resuming your ramble about some recipe you wanted to try tonight. Macarons…or something. He doesn’t pay much attention, because he knows whatever you end up making will be good anyway.

“—Are you listening, Sakura?”

The clueless look he gives you confirms it. “So you weren’t. I had a feeling— but it’s okay.” You giggle. “But you didn’t answer my question from earlier either. How’d you get into a fight?”

His eyebrows furrow deeply as he decides whether or not he should tell you. “They were….” he clicks his tongue angrily, “they were talking about you when you walked by.”

You can feel his muscles tense as he deepens his scowl, still trying to fight off the blush plastered across his face. “I just gave ‘em what they deserved.”

HAYATO SUO. referred to as she/her, mentions of how you’re dressed

“What a bitch. She was totally asking for it.”

I know— dressed like a whore.”

Suo stands up from the bench outside your local convenience store, hands dusting off the dirt on his pants. You had asked him to wait outside earlier because ‘you wanted to grab him a super delicious snack that he would most definitely love.’

He had a feeling the two dirty men who entered the store minutes later were bad news, so he was already on high alert before listening in.

“That whore— you mean my girlfriend?” Suo’s voice comes out calm, a stark contrast to the sickening anger and pressure he feels building up inside his chest.

“Huh—oh. Yeah.” One of them chuckles, jutting their thumb at the entrance. “That bitch inside your girl? You let her prance around with her tits hanging out for everyone to see?”

He's calm and composed as they size him up, their chins tilting up to look down at him. “She's pretty, isn't she?” and Suo fails to stifle the chuckle that escapes his lips. “Did she reject you too harshly for your liking?”

One of them balls his fists, muttering profanities under his breath as he leans closer to him. “Now how'd you know that? You should really teach that bitch some fucking manners.” He reaches forward to grab Suo by the collar, eyes blinking in confusion when he finds himself spun behind Suo seconds later, feet struggling to find their balance.

“—The fuck did you do?”

“It’s a bad habit of hers,” Suo continues. “I understand it though, not wanting to be around a pathetic thing like you.” The edges of his lips tug into a faint smile.

The other man’s eyebrows twitch, spitting empty threats as he he throws a wide swing, only to find himself reduced to his knees seconds later. “T-the fuck...” he grumbles to himself— he could have sworn he could practically see his fist connect. What happened?

“You'd be better off looking for someone to protect yourself the way I do for her.” His words are mocking as he heads towards the store’s entrance. “And— it'd be really unfortunate if i see something like this happen again.”

TOMA HIRAGI.

“H-Hiragi? What are you doing?”

Your lips are pressed in a nervous line as your hands come to shyly rest on his chest, sucking in a breath when his arms come to roughly cage you against the train’s walls, strong body towering just over yours.

“Do you…need more space?” You whisper, heart racing at the proximity. You can smell his cologne so well at this distance.

Hiragi simply shakes his head, distracted gaze shifting between you and something behind him every few seconds. “It’s okay.”

He swears his stomach isn't churning like this without good reason. It’s not just a coincidence that the same person who he had noticed eyeing you at the boba shop had gotten onto the same train. He could let it go at that, but the same man had been slowly worming his way through the crowd to get closer to the two of you. And while he’s not certain, he thought he saw the man take out his phone and try and angle it beneath you, but not before jolting and dropping his phone onto the floor when Hiragi's hands abruptly slammed against the wall beside you.

The train suddenly rocks, sliding his phone to the other side of the train, and you’re knocked off balance, face slamming against Hiragi's chest. “S-sorry!”

“It’s okay.” He gives you a smile, hand coming to cradle the back of your head and pull you closer. “You okay?”

“I’m okay...” you mumble, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Your chest is hard.”

He responds with a light chuckle. It’ll be okay like this, he thinks. He’ll protect you with his body for now, and figure out what to do with that guy later.

KIRYU MITSUKI. ‘pretty thing’

“It’s no wonder she doesn't like you,” Kiryu sighs. “You're gross.”

Your mouth is ajar as you stare at the state of the man who was harassing you only moments ago, his unconscious body resting neatly against the wall after Kiryu had dragged him there.

“Sorry you had to watch that, pretty thing.” His hand comes to gently interlace with yours. “But he didn't leave me with much of a choice, did he?”

“It’s okay.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “That was so cool of you.”

His eyes widen a bit before his lips curl into a small smile. “Oh? You think so?”

“Mhm. I don't know what would’ve happened to me if you were there...” your voice trails off a bit.

You really don't know what would have happened, because it's not like you know how to fight or anything. Getting hit on is enough to make you nervous, so a pushy guy like that was too much— you froze up as soon as he started spitting threats after you expressed your disinterest.

There’s a light squeeze around your hands, and you’re reminded of this gentle warmth that Kiryu always brings with him. “Don't worry about it.” He gives you a small smile. “I’ll just need to accompany you more often when you go out. It’s no problem.”

KYOTARO SUGISHITA.

“You’re like a bodyguard, Kyo.”

You giggle at the huff beside you. “How’d you even react that fast?”

It all happened within a second. You were walking beside him, stopped for a brief second to bend down and peer at the plushies lining the shop window, not noticing the man approaching you— his grimy fingers coming to take a peek under your skirt. Before you had even registered the feeling of the cloth moving, there was a loud crack, and the man was on the floor, groaning with his hands covering his bloodied face and a very angry Sugishita on top of him.

“He made me angry.”

Of course he would be. And if you weren’t with your boyfriend, it would be an entirely different story. You’d bring along your assortment of self defense items, ranging from pepper sprays to taser lipsticks— and you’d be a thousand times more cautious. Pay extra close attention to everything around you.

With Sugishita, however, it’s different. You think of it as being able to turn off your brain… or something like that. Whatever lets you truly relax and enjoy your time with him, and it’s always okay because your boyfriend is there to protect you. “Well, don’t be so mad, cutie.” You smile, your fingers reaching to interlace with his as he tenses at the nickname.

“Everything is okay— I’m okay. I’ll even get us smoothies to help lighten the mood.”

He lets you drag him to your favorite smoothie shop in silence— still fuming about the incident. He wonders why you’re not shaken up. Ifnhe had been one second later, that piece of shit would have lifted up your skirt. In public. His jaw clenches at the thought, angry eyes darting at any anyone who dares look your direction.

“Why’re…” his voice trails off, remembering what Umemiya said about toning down his choice of words around others. “Why’re you so happy?”

“Hmm? I’m not too worried.” You laugh. “You’re my bodyguard right? Nothing will happen if you’re here.”

part 2

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Had a thought: reader has a hand-print bruise on their arm — like they stumbled and were caught or pulled out of the way of a curse or smth and the helper accidentally left a bruise when they grabbed reader. Jjk men see it b4 reader can / thinks to tell them so they just see a clearly-handprint bruise with zero context 🙃

Hand Print

Tags: Drabble, Fluff, JJK men getting angry, JJK men getting protective 🫦, smut (Suguru’s, Choso’s, and kinda Sukuna’s), dark content on Mahito’s, mdni

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Toji, Sukuna, Mahito

SATORU

You had forgotten it even happened. Silly, clumsy you — nearly falling while exiting the subway onto the station platform. Thankfully, that good samaritan was right behind you.

His hand clasped onto your upper arm tightly as he pulled you back up to your feet to find your balance. You didn’t even give it much thought-! You thanked him and went on about your day.

Satoru’s six eyes can immediately spot the bruise before you’ve even taken off your coat after getting home.

“Baby —“ Satoru’s voice was bone chilling when he spoke. He’s normally got such a happy tone, but when he uses that baritone that comes out during fights, you’re frozen out of fear.

“Wha..?” You weren’t even able to get your words out before Satoru has your arm up in the air. His eyes wandering over the bruise that was wrapped around your upper arm.

“Who the fuck touched you?” His heart is slamming into his ribcage. He doesn’t know what happened, but he knew enough. You were hurt, and he wasn’t there to protect you.

He wishes he could extend his infinity out to you at all times, but even he has limits unfortunately.

“Satoru- My arm-“ You whine while your lofty boyfriend with his abnormally long limbs is nearly holding you up by your wrist. You looked pitiful — dangling from his grip.

“Who.” He demands again, and those stormy blue eyes meet yours. His mind is racing — thinking of who he’s going to kill. Will he snuff them out like a cigarette with his infinity? Or maybe he blow a whole in them with hollow purple. Maybe he could figure out a new technique to rip them in half on an atomic level.

“It was an accident!” You cry as you try to pull your arm aways from his unrelenting grip. “I was about to fall off the subway, and this guy grabbed me so I didn’t fall and break my neck.”

Satoru’s face stays cold, and his eyes look back at the obvious handprint bruise on your arm. Judging by the way it’s awkwardly positioned, he knows you’re telling the truth.

“Oh! Well baby, why didn’t you just say that?” Your entirely too happy boyfriend is immediately back with a coy grin as if he wasn’t just fantasizing about murder. “You got to be more careful when getting off the subway, silly goose.” His finger lightly thump you on the forehead.

SUGURU

You’ve always been so clumsy your entire life: tripping over your own feet, bumping into the corners of tables and walls, accidentally stubbing your toe, the list goes on…

You were racing down the broken escalator at the mall to try to get to your favorite store before it closed for the day. You were just so focused on getting to your destination that you weren’t paying attention to ahead of you.

You barrel straight into this guy who miraculously grabs onto you and the railing before both of you take a nasty fall. The two of you pant in each other’s arms for just a moment before you’re backing away — professing your deepest apologies for not being more careful. The guy just awkwardly smiles and waves you on, knowing you were probably trying to get to a specific store.

You didn’t even think about the little incident afterwards. You have so many “near misses” in a day that you just completely black them out.

Suguru’s lips are clasped to your neck, giving you sloppy kisses right on the sweet spot of your neck.

“Fuuuck, pretty girl… can never get tired of this pussy.” He groans softly into your ear. Both of you are so lost in each other, feeling your essences mix with each time his massive cock slips into your clammy entrance. You’re practically sucking him in at this point — greedyyy.

“Sugu- Ah~!” You’re breathy as your hand reaches up to clasp the pillow behind you. The way your pussy flutters around him as you’re nth orgasm is about to take over has him nearly seeing stars.

Nearly.

His eyes normally focus on you while he fucks you until you’re nothing more than a puddle in his arms, but right now, that damn bruise has his attention.

“What fucking monkey touched you?” He asks in a low growl before he’s pinning both your arms above your head. He slips his cock out of you — eliciting a frustrated whine from edging you.

His eyes are too busy scoping out the rest of your body. How did he miss the fresh bruise that was so blatantly displayed on your arm.

“Sugu..” You whine — still mindless and cockdrunk. Your thighs part as you try to seduce him back between your legs.

“Hey.” He snaps his fingers in front of your eyes. “I need my girlfriend right now — not my slut. Who touched you?”

“What are you talkin’ about?” You lazily whine as you look over towards your arm, and you think for a moment of how the bruise must’ve gotten there..

“Which fucking monkey touched you?” He grits again. His temper is only building. How were you unable to remember who touched you?

“Hmm.. oh! I was running down those broken escalators at the mall, and I nearly sent me and this guy down the entire flight. Thankfully, he was able to grab us both.” You’re finally able to recount the memory to Geto.

Your poor stressed boyfriend pinches the bridge of his nose. He instantly knows that you’re telling the truth because this is just so damn like you.

“What have I told you about being aware of your surroundings? Now you’re going to make me have to punish you.”

Great! Now you’re not getting to finish at all tonight! :(

NANAMI

It was another normal Sunday evening in your home. The lights were turned down low, and the curtains were drawn so the golden hour sun could pool into the kitchen and dining room. You and Ken were listening to your playlist while cooking dinner together.

Cooking dinner with Nanami wasn’t like some normal, ordinary task. Cooking with him was almost as intimate as having sex with him — the way his hands so carefully massaged into your hips. Your back was pressed flush against his toned chest, and his chin was either resting on yours or resting on your shoulder.

He wasn’t dead weight either. Nanami could cook his ass off. You were the one who needed the extra help, so right now, Nanami was guiding your hands on how to perfectly and evenly chop zucchini.

His eyes grazed over your hands, taking in your form to see if he needed to correct you in any way. That’s when he saw the bruise peaking out from underneath your shirt sleeve.

Nanami’s hand is quick, and he swiftly disarms you so you don’t accidentally cut yourself before he tugs your arm sleeve. His usually calm face slowly twisted into a scowl.

“Who did that to you?” He asks lowly with an intimidating glare. Of course, he’s not mad at you, but he is mad that someone touched his wife.

“What…?” You ask with a small pout, not knowing what he was talking about in the slightest. You had clearly forgotten about that nice stranger who pulled you back onto the sidewalk when a car decided to ignore the pedestrian walking symbol. They had saved your life.

“The name of the person who grabbed you.” Nanami demands as he gestures to your marked up wrist. “Now.”

“I- wait, Ken… That’s not what it looks like…” You try to explain with a small frown.

“Then please, do tell me what it is before I go find them for myself.”

When you explained to him that the person who grabbed you actually saved you from severe injury, Nanami let out a sigh — partially of relief and partially of stress.

He brings your wrist up to his mouth before he places light kisses around the bruise. “You have to be more careful, darling… I need you here with me.”

CHOSO

Yuji was the one to grab you harshly and pull you back, creating that nasty bruise on your arm. He really didn’t mean to grab you so hard!! He just forgets his superhuman strength sometimes.

You were about to run into someone while at the school. Yuji was just trying to be a good brother-in-law and protect you. He was nearly in tears when he saw the huge handprint on your arm.

“Please don’t tell Choso. He’ll kill me if he finds out! Please! Say you swear!” He pleads as he clasps his hands together and grovels at your feet.

You tried reassuring him that his brother wasn’t going to kill him, but Yuji wouldn’t rest until you promised not to tell.

“Hi baby.” Choso greets you as usual, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple as he casually strolls towards the bathroom to shower. He’s glistening with sweat from training with Yuki and Todo all day.

“Mm! Wait for me!” You call out, trailing behind him like a horny dog (it’s okay girl me too). Choso happily waits for you in the shower. His dark hair comes down to his shoulders as he lets his hair down and steps into the hot water, immediately rinsing his body of the filth and grime.

“Missed you, baby.” He hums as he slowly corners you against the shower wall. His hand gently cups your chin to press a passionate kiss to your lips.

You softly giggle as you feel something already poking at your leg. “So sensitive~” You tease as you go to wrap your hand around his length.

Choso quickly grabs your arm, going to pin it above your head. He wanted to touch you first. You’re always taking care of him. He wanted to return the favor.

When you softly hiss in response due to him pressing on your bruise, he freezes. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No- no, you did nothing.” You try to reassure him with a wave of your hands. Your bruise catches his eye.

“Did I- Did I do that?” He immediately asks as he takes your arm and cradles it gently into his oversized hands. His face slowly shifts to a guilty pout.

Your eyes widen as you realize your poor boyfriend doesn’t understand the concept of human bruising. He truly thinks he grabbed you so hard that your skin immediately started to bruise.

“No, nonono, baby, you didn’t do that. ‘s okay.” You go to reassure him, gently holding your hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb over the small tattoos under his eyes.

“Then… who did?” His voice shifts to a less panicked one, and his gaze hardens slightly.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize just how quickly he can turn on that more dominant, powerful side of him. “Uh.. well.. it was an accident.. We shouldn’t go on a witch hunt or anything like that…”

“Right. Who grabbed you so hard that they left a mark on you?” He doesn’t relent, towering over you with such an unamused gaze. His eyes are angry while staring at you.

“You have to promise me you won’t hurt him, Cho. It was really an accident. He was trying to save me.”

Choso stays quiet. He’s learned not to make promises that he can’t keep, and all of his thoughts are about how he was going to hurt this mysterious guy who laid a hand on you.

“Choso… It was Yuji. He was trying to keep me from running into somebody! He didn’t mean to hurt me-“

Your boyfriend’s face shifts to one of surprise. He didn’t expect Yuji to be the culprit of the bruise on your arm. His eyes flick over to the bruise, and he lets out a hefty sigh.

“Sometimes… older brothers have to be the one to teach hard lessons…”

“Choso, it was an accident.”

TOJI

“Mmm.. shit…” Toji hums before he goes in for another bite. You watch him with a playful gaze. He always gets so hungry after a completed hit, and when the job takes more than one day, he misses your cooking almost as much as he misses you.

“Toji, slow down. No one’s going to take your food from you.” You gently chide with a laugh. Little three-year-old Megumi is in his high chair, eating like an animal because he’s mimicking daddy.

You’re happy that your husband appreciates your cooking because you did nearly die while trying to get the ingredients to make this stupid dinner.

You were in the parking lot of the grocery store with Megumi in your arms, and while walking towards the store’s entrance, a car nearly backed over you and the small child in your arms.

Thankfully, a stranger was behind you, and he was fast enough to yank you and Megumi back away from the car. It was honestly a miracle that you and Megumi made it completely unscathed.

Well, almost unscathed. You did have a pretty nasty bruise on your hip where the stranger grabbed you with such strength.

“Look at what kind of table manners you’re teaching your son.” You continue on while wiping Megumi’s face clean with a baby wipe. The small child whines and tries to break free from your grasp.

“Can’t help it, doll. Your cooking’s too good.” Toji finally lifts his head up from his plate, and with almost lazer focus, he immediately notices the bruise on your hip due to your shirt hiking up a bit since you’re bent over dealing with Megumi.

“What the fuck happened?” He immediately asks, gesturing his fork towards the bruise on your hip. “Did some fuck touch you?”

You look at him with a hint of confusion for a second, but as soon as you look down and see the bruise, you immediately remember the event that transpired earlier today.

“I-“

You don’t even get the next word out before Toji’s on you, lifting your shirt up to see the perfectly drawn out handprint bruised into your pretty skin. The scar on his lips twitch in frustration, and your heart begins to stutter — understanding exactly what it looks like.

“Toji-“

“What the fuck happened?” His voice is a low grumble as he eyes you closely. He’s itching to hear a name — someone to kill for touching you like that. Only he gets to touch you there.

Your words are choked up in your throat, misunderstanding Toji’s possessiveness for anger towards you. You can’t even think of what to say before your son speaks up for you.

“Mama and I saved by a man!” Megumi shouts, looking up at his dad, even your toddler understood the gravity of the situation.

“Saved?” Toji questions as he shifts his gaze over to Megumi with a raised eyebrow — still angry but albeit a little amused.

“Yeah! Car almost hit mama and me! The man grabbed us to save us.” Your toddler explains it as if it’s a fond memory for him.

Your eyes meet Toji’s, and you nod your head slightly, agreeing with your son. “I was going into the market, and a car nearly backed over Megumi and I. The guy grabbed us up before it completely hit us.”

Toji takes a big breath, and his large palm finds the back of your head, guiding you to lie on his chest for moment. He just needs to he close to you after the gymnastics his brain just did.

“Christ, mama. Don’t worry me like that.” He mumbles lowly before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

“Daddy, ew! Gross!”

SUKUNA

It was time for nightly worship for you and the other concubines, except here recently, it’s only been you attending nightly worship. The concubines had been dropping like flies recently… like actually dropping dead.

Why would Sukuna need concubines when you were already his most devout follower? Not to mention, he immediately made up his mind once he felt your precious cunt for the first time — so fucking tight and wet, begging to be bred by him — he didn’t need anyone else. You were the solution to all of his problems. Hell, he might even give you his heir one day.

He was sat in his throne with a mere red and black silk robe covering his monstrous body. One of his hands was occupied with a chalice of… well, you don’t really want to know what he was sipping on.

His other oversized hand was tenderly resting on your head. His palm was as big as your head, covering the crown completely, while you had your chin propped up on his thigh — on your knees in front of him. This was his favorite sight. He could really appreciate your beauty when the other concubines weren’t making so much racket. It was the right decision to have them disposed of.

You’re so pliant with your head in his lap. He finds it amusing how comfortable you look before him — as if he isn’t the literal incarnate of evil. He almost finds you adorable like a small kitten.

“What are you thinking about, woman?” He asks, surprisingly breaking the silence between you two. He’s the type of man to value the quiet, and he hates small talk, but he can’t help but want to hear your voice.

“Hm?” You hum lazily, being broken out of your daydream. Your eyes meet his as you look up at him. “I’m just thinking about bedtime… It’s been an eventful day.” You answer softly before a yawn escapes you, earning a small snicker from Sukuna.

“You shall retire in my chambers tonight. Go dispose of your clothes and slip between the sheets. I’ll be in there in just a moment.” He pats your head, signaling you may get up now.

Scurrying off to Sukuna’s chambers, the King of Curses narrows his eyes. He could’ve swore he just saw a bruise on you, and it’s definitely not one that he left…

Once he was inside his chambers, his eyes rested upon your small, frail body. You looked so cute, curled up in his massive bed. He slips his robe off, revealing his sculpted body. He looks like more than a king. He’s no less than a god.

Slipping between the sheets so he can finally feel your flesh against his, Sukuna can’t help but check. One of his hands captures your arm, and he looks at it. A deep scowl forms on his face as he sees the mark of another on you.

“What fool dared to touch you?” He demands, blood pressure already rising.

“What-?” You ask a bit confused, but you’re quickly reminded when Sukuna presses down on the bruise, making it worse. He’s sick in the head, thinking that if he can’t remove the bruise from you, he’ll just make his own mark right on top of it-

“Ow-! Kuna-!” You whine as his thumb presses down firmer. “Why are you- oww! please! I’m sorry, my lord! The gardener was just trying to save me from tripping and falling-“

His hand releases. “The gardener, huh?” He muses before making a few hand symbols. You’ll never see that gardener again. He should’ve known better than you touch you. You watch Sukuna with a slightly fearful look, and Sukuna feels his stomach twist with detest.

“Don’t look at me like that. It displeases me.” He frowns when he notes your fear does not simply vanish. Releasing a tense breath, he carefully brings your arm up to his mouth, and he presses a gentle kiss to the darkening bruise on your arm. “I had to make my own mark. I forget how fragile you mortals are… I… apologize.”

MAHITO

His eyes were wide and filled with utter rage as he saw the bruise displayed on your arm. He didn’t know how to cope with these new… emotions. Mahito didn’t believe he could feel a thing such as jealousy until you came around, his pretty pet. you just didn’t know it yet.

His foot was tapping violently against the ground as he tried to think of a way to bring it up casually in front of the others. He didn’t need Kenjaku on his case again for “falling for you”… whatever that fucking meant.

“Did you have a run in with the sorcerers, pet?” He finally asks as you and Jogo are playing Mahjong.

You look down at your arm at the blue and purple bruise that was welping up on your skin, and you nod your head at Mahito’s question.

“One of them got me good… He barely touched me though, so it caught me off guard.” You finally respond, and Mahito feels his very soul light on fire. Another man dared to touch you? You? His pet?? Even worse, it was a sorcerer.

“Did you kill him?” Mahito asks as he has to place his hands underneath his thighs to keep from reaching out to grab you up. Last time he did that, Kenjaku threatened to swallow him up like an uzumaki, but he can’t help it. He constantly feels an overwhelming urge to just touch you. If he could, he’d merge your soul with his so you’d be bound to him for life.

“No… he got away before I could finish the job.” You pout as you place your next tile down on the playing board.

“What did he look like?” Mahito’s heart starts to race. The thought of killing the guy who dared to touch you is intoxicating. He wants to hear the man cry and beg for mercy. He wants to coat himself in the man’s blood then fuck you until you cry.

“Oh, um, he had pink fluffy hair, and a jujutsu tech uniform on with red sneakers.”

“You ran into Sukuna’s vessel, Yuji Itadori???” Kenjaku perks up from the newspaper he was reading, and he immediately stomps over to you, needing more information.

“Yuji Itadori…. I’ll kill him.” Mahito mumbles to himself before breaking out in a small laugh. The thought of it— it’s so euphoric.

[ja3yun]

Sweat for Me | P.JS

stranger! jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, alcohol consuption, tipsy ynjay (all consensual), strangers to lovers, creepy men in clubs, but jay saves the day, not proofread anything else lmk! w.c: 7.8k synopisis: after a stressful week you go to the club to let loose and forget your problems, and jay is there to lend the perfect helping hand

a/n: hi! this is pure self indulgence because i saw jay at the prada event and went feral so, this is for my jay girlies! also, please do not have sex w strangers in clubs !! take it to a hotel and save yourself the embarrassment of getting caught. as always, comments, reblogs, and feedback is all appreciated! i love you guys, and see you at halloween for serial killer!jake <33

Walking into the club, the heat envelopes you first, thick and heavy, clinging to your skin like a warm, damp cloak. Fog from a nearby smoke machine waves across the air, softening the strobe neon lights above, and the bass from the DJ pulses right through the building, shaking the floor under you and setting your heartbeat to a new rhythm.

Every breath you take is a cocktail of scents - alcohol, sweet perfumes, musky cologne, with faint notes of sweat and cigarettes threading through. Ahead, bodies sway and stumble, arms flung over each other’s shoulders, laughter and shouts lost and misinterpreted in the pounding music. Faces are flushed, eyes are glassy, and heads are thrown back in abandon. 

And you need to catch up.

For a lot of people, this is their place of hell and you completely understand why; it stinks, people are rude, and alcohol turns people into caricatures of themselves that are less than flattering. But for you, this is the perfect way to unwind after a stressful week. 

You feel at home here, because it’s the one place where everyone is allowed to embarrass themselves and no one will bat an eye. You can let loose and just forget who you are, even for a minute. Sure, you need to avoid the creeps who think they’re entitled to touch you just because you exist and it’s a dark club, but just escaping reality for a night? It’s worth it in your opinion.

You weave through the crowd, brushing past clusters of people lost in their own worlds, and head straight for the bar with your two best friends, Yuki and Dosie. You’re already rehearsing the orders in your head, knowing exactly what they'll go for. Tonight’s plan is simple: drink hard and fast, percentage over pallet, because if there was ever a week that called for it, it’s this one. 

Dosie’s been grinding through double shifts as a nurse, Yuki’s buried under her endless university schedule, and you…well, work’s a whole mess you’re not about to think about right now. All you need to think about is forgetting every bollocking from your boss and get fucked up.

Reaching the bar, you lean against it, the girls just behind you as you order three double vodkas and cranberry - a dash of lemonade for Yuki since she hates the tang of the cranberry. You always ask her why she orders it if she hates it, but she insists that she needs to get more fruit in her diet, that and the other reason every woman drinks cranberry.

When they arrive, you dunk the black paper straws into each glass and pass them back, clinging to yours for dear life. It takes you all your strength not to down it right there and there, but you’ll be civilised since it’s your first one. You’ll leave the chugging for your third or fourth drink.

As you weave through the crowd, following your friends to the dance floor, someone brushes against you. It’s not a hard bump - thankfully not enough to spill your drink - but it’s just enough to bring you to a halt. Your pet peeve is people who push past without so much as an “excuse me,” and you’re definitely not about to be that person. So, you look up to apologise…

And that’s when the world around you slips away.

The man is beautiful, stunning, shaggable, and every other adjective for hot that your brain can muster, which right now is not a lot because you’re stuck in a trance.  The dim light catches on his features, casting soft shadows on his face. His black hair is parted and finger-brushed out of his face in a way that seems effortless but perfect, framing his sharp jaw that you’re sure is only obtainable through the hands of Michelangelo himself. His lips, pink and oh-so-soft looking, curve into a smile, showing deep lines and crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He must smile a lot, you think, suddenly taken by this unexpected warmth, by the friendliness in his expression. If you were to bump into anyone else in this club, you’d be hit with nothing but arrogance and pissy attitude.

The flush on your cheeks deepens from mild embarrassment to a warm, undeniable craving of lust. You’re stuck, words caught in your throat as you realise you’ve been staring a bit too long. His expression shifts, his friendly smile turning slightly puzzled, as though he’s caught you mid-thought.

“Uh - sorry,” you finally manage, forcing out a small, sheepish laugh. 

“For staring or for bumping into me?” He says it so casually, his eyebrows raised and lips smirking.

You swallow hard and laugh again, shaking your head to set yourself straight and form a coherent sentence, ridding your mind of the Boggle-like state it’s in. “For both, sorry.”

His eyes flick down and then back up, trailing over you with a calm, easy confidence. It’s the same gesture you’ve seen from at least five other men in the past 10 minutes you’ve been in this club, but somehow with him, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. There’s something about his gaze that makes your pulse quicken instead of setting off your usual alarms. 

You pray to the heavens that he isn’t a creep.

But before you have the chance to find out, you’re yanked by your arm, stumbling as Yuki pulls you toward the centre of the dance floor. Her smile is innocent, and to be fair, she’s just here to have a good time with her girls, she doesn’t know that she’s just ripped you away from the possible man of your dreams.

Yuki drags you deeper into the crowd and you look back over your shoulder, your eyes finding his one last time. He’s watching you, hands casually in his pockets, a small smile playing on his lips. With a faint nod, he raises a hand in a playful salute, a silent goodbye as he lets you slip out of sight as if you were just a passing thought to him. But that look - the way his eyes linger for an extra second - stays with you as you’re swallowed up by the pulsing lights and music, unable to shake the feeling that this won’t be the last time you see him.

_____

As the hours fly by, you lose yourself exactly the way you’d hoped. Your arms sway above your head, a massive grin stretching across your face, every bit of stress and worry vanishing with each beat of the music. Adele’s beautiful and should-not-be-remixed-voice pulses around you in an EDM beat, but honestly? You’re having the best time, the way you intended to.

Tipping your glass back, you drain the last drop of your fourth drink tonight. You’re careful with your limits, always pacing yourself just enough to feel the buzz without going overboard and even though you wanna get plastered to the point you can’t see straight, you’re lacking right now.

“I’m gonna head to the bar,” you announce, raising your voice far too loudly over the music, alcohol dulling your sense of volume along with everything else. “You guys want the same?”

Yuki and Dosie nod eagerly, eyes gleaming with the effects of the night. They’re much faster than you with their drinks, and you can tell by their happy, slightly unsteady grins that every percent is hitting them. While this will be drink number five for you, they’re well into their eighth rounds, but you all seem to be on the same page, perfectly balanced in your shared state of i don’t give a fuck vibes.

Making you’re way to the bar, you slide into an open spot, nudging your way in beside a guy to your left and a girl to your right. You’re barely settled when you feel someone lean closer, just a little too close. You glance to your left, and sure enough, the guy next to you has turned his full attention on you.

“You good?” he drawls, his voice low and dripping with a forced charm. He’s got a smirk on his face and it’s obvious he’s had one too many. “Haven’t seen you around here before. You here alone?”

You try for a polite smile, keeping things neutral as you shake your head. You hate that you developed the habit of being nice even when uncomfortable just to avoid conflict. “No, I’m here with friends.” 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” He’s unfazed, his eyes roaming over you, lingering a little too long. “You know, a girl like you shouldn’t have to stand here waiting for a drink. I could get the bartender’s attention for you,” he offers, leaning even closer. His breath smells faintly of ciggies and rum, and you have to fight the urge to lean away.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” you say, keeping your tone light but firm.

He doesn’t seem to take the hint. “Come on, don’t be shy. A girl as gorgeous as you? You must get free drinks all the time.” His hand drifts to rest on the bar near yours, his fingers brushing too close for comfort.

The interaction is setting off all kinds of alarms, but you keep your cool, just begging the bartender to come over. “I appreciate it, but I can handle it.”

Still, he persists, his eyes flicking up and down like he’s sizing you up. “You know, you should really give a nice guy a chance. Not everyone out there’s gonna treat you as well as I would.”

It takes every bit of patience to keep from rolling your eyes. Luckily, just as he opens his mouth to say something else, a man stands impossibly close behind you, dragging you away from the burden to your left.

“Why are you talking to my girl?” the boy behind you says, voice low and dangerous, clearly warning the man away. His hips are placed respectfully on your waist and you can feel him hover just slightly, a little sign to show you that he’s just trying to help you and not add another dick to your problem.

Scoffing, the man eyes your saviour up. “Yeah, like I’d believe that. You’re punching, mate.” 

Honestly, you feel a flicker of offence on behalf of your unexpected saviour, but he doesn’t flinch, no reaction whatsoever; his entire stance relaxed as he stares the other man down. “I think you’re the one out of your depth, mate,” he replies mockingly. “You look like a fucking rodent that’s been flushed down the toilet.”

You bite down on your lips, fighting to hold back a laugh. The last thing you want to do is rile this man up, but the person grabbing your waist seems to be doing a good job of that already. 

The creep’s face flushes in anger, stepping an inch closer and you instantly take one back, your backside colliding with the boy behind you. Only then do his fingers dig into your hips, that protective instinct coming in full throttle. Considering he’s someone you’ve never met before, you’re surprised at his actions; no, you don’t expect every man to turn a blind eye when a woman is uncomfortable, but you don’t expect a stranger to step in as hard as this.

“Look, mate,” the creep sneers, trying to regain some of his earlier bravado. “You think you can just play hero and get laid? That doesn’t work, ain’t that right, kitten?”

He’s directly talking to you and your skin crawls with dread. First of all, the kitten has thrown you off and made you gag internally - if you had maybe one more drink and two shots down it would have been actual vomit. Part of you wishes you did so it would get this creep away.

“Um-”

“You’re arguing with me, not my girl. Don’t speak to her.”

The creep’s eyes darken as he takes another step forward, puffing his chest out to look bigger. “You want to go, then? You think you can take me?”

“Is that what you want?” your saviour replies, not backing down an inch, his stance firm and unwavering. “Because I’d be happy to show you just how far out of your depth you really are. You clearly can’t handle rejection, buddy.”

“I’ll fight you right now.”

“Try. Me.”

The next thing you know, the boy’s arm is instinctively shielding you, pushing you back and stepping in your place. His height finally comes into focus…in fact, you recognise him. It’s the guy you bumped into earlier, the one with the stunning smile and eyes that seemed to sparkle even in the dim light of the club. The heat of the moment makes your heart race, but not from fear. It’s a mix of adrenaline and something more exciting.

The invasive man glares, but you can see uncertainty creeping into his expression as he comes to terms with the fact that he’s not dealing with an easy target. He only signed up for a little back and fourth with you, seeing you as lesser than him. “You think you can just walk around like some tough guy? You’re nothing,” he spits, his bravado faltering slightly.

The boy in front of you rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “And you’re just a pathetic loser trying to hit on girls - my girl - if I need to repeat that. Seriously, just walk away before you embarrass yourself any further.”

The creep’s fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to throw down. But as he glances between the two of you, you can see the gears turning in his head, weighing out his options. Finally, he huffs out a frustrated breath, taking a step back. “Whatever, man. She’s not even that fucking pretty.”

With that, he turns and pushes his way through the crowd, leaving you and your unexpected knight standing there. You’re still processing what just happened when he turns to you, his expression shifting from fierce protector to something softer.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and genuine, the protective intensity still lingering in his gaze. 

Again, just like earlier, you’re stuck for words, that pretty face sucking out any form of capacity you have. You open your mouth, but the response you intend to deliver is swallowed by the rush of heat that floods your cheeks.

You manage to nod, your voice barely above a whisper, your answer probably being swallowed by the music. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks to you.” The words feel inadequate, a mere echo of the gratitude swelling inside you. God knows how long you would have had to endure that man’s presence if it wasn’t for… “What’s your name?”

“Jay. You?”

“Y/N.”

He nods, humming and trailing those beautiful eyes across your features. “Suits you.”

You laugh, not fully understanding what he means by that but thankful as you accept it as a compliment. 

He flashes a grin, a bit of mischief sparking in his gaze. "Do you get that often?" he asks, leaning in slightly to be heard over the pulsing music.

You shake your head, still feeling a touch flustered. "No, actually…"

"Good," he says, his smile softening. "Then I’m glad to be the first."

He is so good at catching you off guard, leaving you with a warm glow that tingles down to your fingertips and toes. For a moment, there’s only the two of you, his steady gaze holding yours as if trying to memorise every detail.

Finally, you find your voice again. “So, do you always swoop in to save strangers?” you ask, a small smile playing on your lips.

He chuckles, shrugging a little. “Only when they look like they’re in need of a rescue.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And I looked like I needed rescuing?”

“Not exactly.” His eyes flicker over you again, a hint of admiration there that he doesn’t bother hiding. “You look like you could’ve handled him just fine. But, you know...couldn’t hurt to step in.”

Something about the way he’s looking at you makes your heart beat a little faster. Before you can stop yourself, you reply, “Well, let me buy you a drink as a thank you, yeah?” you ask but you’re already back to facing the bar, waving down the bartender. “What’s your poison?”

Jay chuckles and puts his hands back in his pockets. While you find the action hot, he actually does it so he doesn’t place his hand on the small of your back and make you feel uncomfortable. Last thing he wants is you comparing him to that fucking weirdo who can’t read a room. 

“How about you dance with me instead?” he suggests, tilting his chin up to the bartender as he grabs his attention and speaks to him. “Aperol spritz and a vodka cran, please.”  

The order surprises you, causing you to tilt your head in wonder. “You know my drink?”

Shrugging casually, Jay picks the wallet from the back of his pocket and fishes out his bank card. “Not many red drinks out there,” he leans down to your ear, eyes still focused forward and not on you, “plus you smell sweet, just like it.”

Your pussy might as well be a mouth with the way it’s drooling all over your panties. It’s not what he said, but how he said it. So much control, his words barely above a murmur, each one landing with a precision that sends a shiver down your spine. He’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath near your ear, but he maintains just enough distance to keep things respectful. His subtle confidence makes the whole interaction feel like a slow burn, igniting something electric between you two without crossing any lines.

As he straightens up, the bartender holds out the card machine and he doesn’t even glance at it before tapping his card, his gaze finally meeting yours not caring about anything or anyone else but you. The hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips shows he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you, yet he doesn’t exude any arrogance at all. 

"So," he says, handing you the drink once it arrives, "is this good enough for a dance? Saving you and buying you a round?"

You raise the straw to your lips, letting the drink cool you as you take a sip, hoping it’ll calm the heat simmering inside you. "I’d say it’s a solid start," you reply, managing to hold his gaze even as your heart thumps in your chest.

Placing his hand out in front of you, Jay waits for you to accept his offering and guides you to the dance floor. You completely forget that you’re supposed to get your friends drinks and leave every thought of them behind, your sole focus now on the man who has your fingers locked in his. 

The music comes back into focus as he twirls you around to place you in front of him, a grin reaching from ear to ear as he watches you get into the beat of Levitating by Dua Lipa. 

Jay’s eyes glimmer with excitement as he matches your rhythm, moving in sync with you as if this moment was something you’d both been waiting for all night. He keeps his touch light but undeniably close as his free hand finds its place on your waist as the beat pulses around you. You sway together, laughter bubbling between you both as he smoothly guides you through each beat, his own moves filled with the same easy confidence that’s had you hooked from the start.

You learn one thing about each other in this moment is that while Jay can dance and hold a beat, you absolutely cannot. Whatever you want to call the poor attempt of a hip sway, causes Jay to chuckle.

With his smile stretching wide as he watches your attempt at swaying, it’s obvious he’s clearly amused, but there’s nothing mocking in it; instead, he seems genuinely charmed. Shaking his head with a playful grin, he downs the last of his drink, tipping it back in one smooth motion, his eyes rolling back and making you think the worst thoughts before he reaches for your empty glass. With a quick, appreciative nod, he hands them both off to a passing floor staff member, barely glancing away from you.

Now with all his focus back on you, he gently takes your hands in his, guiding them around his neck. “Here,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing softly over yours as he brings you closer, “maybe this will make it easier.” He settles his hands on your waist again, the warmth of his touch grounding you as he guides your movements with steady confidence.

Your arms are now wrapped around his neck and the space between you all but disappears. He’s close enough that you can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong against yours, and his gaze holds yours, unwavering. “Better?” he asks, his voice low, just loud enough for you to hear over the music.

A little breathless, you nod. “Definitely.”

He chuckles softly, his eyes flickering down to your lips for just a split second before meeting your gaze again. “Let me lead you, yeah?” he murmurs, swaying gently to the beat, guiding you with such ease that you can’t help but fall into the rhythm with him. The room around you fades once more, and all that exists is Jay’s closeness.

Jay is so fucking good looking you could almost pass out in his grip. There are so many beautiful men out there, yet you can’t rhyme off a single name that compares to him. Granted, you cannot trust club lighting with anyone - even you look like Bella Hadid in dim light - but there’s no denying that if the lights came up and blinded you from your alcohol-induced haze, you would still be awe-struck by him.

But you’ve been so busy with his face that you’ve failed to notice his outfit, the softness of his cardigan tickles your fingertips and it makes you want to explore further.

Your fingers graze over the fabric of his Prada cardigan, marvelling at its dip against his firm chest beneath. The subtle luxury of his outfit stands out even here; the cardigan, perfectly fitted, highlights the breadth of his shoulders and the line of his torso, while his straight-cut jeans hint at his natural, laid-back confidence. And then there are his shoes - a little too fancy for the club you would say, but somehow just right on him, adding a touch of elegance to his casual charm. 

Maybe that sums him up as a person. You don’t know for sure, but you suddenly want to. 

"Aren't you warm?" you ask, your hands sliding down from his neck, fingers trailing over his chest as if drawn by some magnetic pull. The cardigan might be fine for any other occasion, but under the club lights, it seems almost criminally hot. Both figuratively and literally.

Jay shakes his head, his gaze darkening just a little as he leans in, his voice dropping to a low murmur, the musk of his perfume making you dizzy. “It’s okay,” he says, his eyes holding yours with a spark of mischief. “I’ve got nothing on underneath.”

The words, paired with his subtle smirk, hit you just as Sweat by Zayn begins to blare through the speakers, almost as if the song has been queued up for this exact moment. The sultry beat wraps around you both, amplifying the tension in the air, the lyrics speaking directly to the spark between you. You let your fingers trail along the fabric at the collar, testing his words, the barest hint of skin underneath sending a thrill through you.

It’s either the alcohol or the need that pulses through you that drives you to do what you do next, but your hands slip underneath his cardigan, palms splayed over his chest as you feel around his electrifyingly warm chest.

Jay’s breath catches just slightly, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of your hands exploring his chest. The smirk from earlier is gone, replaced by something deeper, more intense and daring, as he watches you with hooded eyes. He doesn’t say a word, but the way he leans into your touch, his body instinctively pressing closer, speaks volumes. 

His hands grip your waist tight, taking your exploration as mutual consent to feel one another. Even if he asked, you would have given him it in a heart beat. You need this man in more ways than you care to admit right now. Call it the vodka talking or your heart, you need this man.

The intensity between you builds, the space between you shrinking until there's nothing left but expectation. You’re close enough to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flicker between your lips and your gaze, as though he’s searching for confirmation.

His hand moves from your waist to cradle your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your skin, sending a shiver through you. His breath mingles with yours, warm and steady, and before you realise it, you’re both leaning in, meeting in the softest, most tentative kiss - like a promise whispered against your lips. It’s gentle, exploring, with the hint of a smile on his lips as he pulls back just a fraction, eyes meeting yours as if to say, Is this okay?

You answer by closing the gap again, lips pressing against his, melting into the warmth of him. The kiss deepens, but neither of you rush; it's a slow, consuming pull that leaves you both breathless, savouring every second. His fingers slide into your hair, your hands still resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch as your nails dig in just enough to pinch him. Every shift between you is perfectly attuned to the other, until the world beyond the two of you fades completely, leaving only the feeling of being right here, lost in him.

The rhythm builds gradually, his lips parting slightly to fit with yours in a way that feels like a perfect match, every movement is crafted to fit yours. Your fingers curl against his chest, caught between pulling him closer and steadying yourself, and he responds by shifting his hand out of your hair and to the small of your back, tugging you flush against him. Each tilt of his head, every brush of his lips against yours, feels effortless but charged, growing warmer, more assured.

Eventually, you break away, both of you a little breathless, foreheads nearly touching as you stay close, neither willing to fully pull back. You look up into his eyes, dark and filled with a quiet intensity that mirrors the rush in your chest. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you murmur, “Do you want to go somewhere…quiet?”

Dosie and Yuki would hate you for this recklessness. But then they would also hate you for not at least trying to bag a man as fine as him so, you can’t really win, and no winner means endless roads to take -  so you’re choosing the one that gets you laid.

Jay’s lips tug into a small, understanding smirk, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, dragging it down as you see him contemplate whether to kiss you or give you a verbal answer. But obviously, he’s a gentleman - at least for now - and just simply nods.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he breathes out, letting you pull him from the middle of the dance floor.

You have no idea where ‘somewhere quiet’ could possibly be in a club in the middle of the night on a Friday, but you’re determined to find it. All these passing moments without him on your lips are torture; now that you’ve had a taste, you don’t ever want to stop.

You spot a secluded nook tucked away from the pulsating lights and eyes of the clubgoers. The dim, almost non-existent lighting creates a sense of intimacy and secretiveness that beckons you both. As you manoeuvre through the throngs of bodies, your heart races with anticipation, each beat echoing the exhilarating moment.

Once you reach the corner, you take a moment to catch your breath, your back pressed against the cool wall, a slight rush of adrenaline coursing through you. Jay stands close, his presence magnetic, and you can feel the warmth radiating off him as he leans in, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“This works,” he murmurs, a playful smile playing on his lips. His gaze flickers down to your mouth, and you can’t help but feel a rush of heat as you lean into him, closing the gap that feels impossibly charged. His lips are more of an addiction than the sweet treats you help yourself to after every lunch break.

You reach up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, relishing the feel of his soft skin against your fingertips. His breath hitches slightly at the contact, and you can sense the tension building, a heady mix of desire and uncertainty hanging in the air. As he tilts his head, giving you an inviting look, the moment feels suspended, filled with unspoken possibilities.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low and husky, laced with a hint of mischief. You nod, emboldened by the intoxication running through your veins and the undeniable chemistry crackling between you.

With a swift motion, he closes the distance, capturing your lips with his. The kiss ignites like a spark in the dark, deepening as he pulls you closer, the rest of the world slipping away. You lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him simmering, sending electric thrills through your body. 

The kiss intensifies, his breath hitching as your hands grip his neck, thumbs brushing softly over his adam’s apple. The sensation of your touch there sends chills all through his body, and he lets out a deep, throaty groan that vibrates against your lips, raw and hungry, almost desperate for all of you. It spurs something inside, making your pulse race as his hands slide down, settling firmly on your hips before curving around to your lower back, guiding you even closer.

He presses his hips against yours, his mouth on yours fierce and wanting, as if he can't get close enough, as if this kiss is just the beginning. 

“Is it fucking awful for me to want to fuck you right now?” he laughs out into your mouth, the scent of his multiple Aperols brushing over your vodka-induced state. Is the question warranted? Yes, because it is silly to try and fuck a stranger in the back of a club. Will you tell him that? Of course not.

“It’s not,” you begin, pecking his lips multiple times just to keep his taste on your lips, “I think it’s actually perfectly acceptable.”

He genuinely laughs as he presses his forehead to yours. His hands wander, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, lingering at the line where your top meets your skirt. Each peck you steal from him seems to make his restraint fray, and you feel the muscles in his arms tense as he holds back, as if he's balancing on the edge of control.

"Perfectly acceptable, yeah?" he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your jaw, inching towards the hollow below your ear. He nips gently, his teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver, and then he kisses the spot softly, relishing in every second. The hand at your hip shifts, sliding over the curve of your backside, fingers splaying possessively, pulling you firmly against him. You can feel his heartbeat racing under your fingertips where they still rest at his neck, matching your own, quick and hungry.

"Good," he breathes out, his voice husky, a little breathless, "because I don’t think I could stop myself if I tried." His other hand threads into your hair, tilting your head back just enough to capture your lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more insistent. You lose yourself in it, the world spinning around you, each kiss adding fuel to the fire between you, every touch making it harder to remember that you’re standing in a club with the thrill of anyone discovering you at any moment.

Jay’s hands seem to trace their own path, gliding from your hips to your lower back, settling briefly before sliding even lower, each touch sending a thrill through you. His fingers drift to the hem of your skirt, teasing along the edge as if testing your boundaries, watching for your reaction. It’s important to him that you don’t just get caught up in the moment, each of his movements are deliberate in asking for consent.

When you don’t pull back, his fingers dip down, skimming along your bare thigh, igniting your skin. He’s barely holding back, you can tell, and it makes your pulse quicken, knowing that a man so beautiful could want you so badly. His gaze flickers up to meet yours, eyes heavy-lidded, his pupils dark with intent. He lets out a small groan, mouth parting as he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, slow and tantalising, as though savouring each second he’s got his hands on you.

“You really wanna let me fuck you in this place?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours with each word, his fingers inching a fraction higher. The grip he has on you is firm, almost possessive, and you feel him hold his breath, reining himself in, barely keeping his restraint intact until you tell him yes.

Your lips curl into a faint smile as you nip at his bottom lip, voice barely more than a murmur against his mouth. “I would let you do it in the middle of the floor if it meant I got to feel you.”

The last of his restraint crumbles. His fingers dip further beneath the hem, his hand sliding along the curve of your thigh, gripping you with enough urgency to leave no doubt about what he wants. The air between you thickens, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, everything around you melting away as you sink deeper into this reckless, exhilarating moment.

Finally, his fingers brush against the fabric of your underwear, and the sensation is electrifying, a mixture of thrill and pleasure that has you pressing your hips instinctively into his hand. His lips curve into a smile against your neck, feeling your reaction, enjoying every moment of it as he nudges the fabric aside. His fingertips glide over your skin, exploring, teasing, before slipping between your folds, finding you already warm and wanting.

God, you are so glad you didn’t wear your M&S granny panties tonight.

A low groan escapes him, and he shifts his body closer, pressing you against the wall to shield you from the view of others, his free hand bracing beside your head so you don’t wack it against the wall behind you. He’s right there yet the careful control of his movements leaves you on the edge, craving more. His fingers trace a slow, deliberate path, flicking over your clit before moving lower, entering you with a gentle push that has you gasping. He’s watching you closely, captivated by the way your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting in a soft moan as he begins to move.

He works his fingers in slow, rhythmic circles, each stroke drawing a new wave of pleasure through you, His other hand slips from the wall, finding your waist again, pulling you closer, urging your body to mould to his as he holds you in place. The rest of the club feels a world away - there’s nothing but his touch, the tension coiling tighter with each movement of his hand, the low hum of his breathing mixed with your own.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, his lips grazing your ear, voice roughened with desire. The sound sends a pulse of heat through you, your heart quickly matching the lust, and you can’t help but roll your hips in response, pushing yourself against his fingers, craving more of that delicious friction. He shifts slightly, angling his hand, and his thumb brushes over your clit in a gentle, teasing caress that has your knees buckling.

Jay senses it, his hand tightening on your waist, supporting you as he picks up the pace, his fingers moving with more purpose now, deeper, each thrust building you closer to that edge. The rhythm he sets is perfect, each stroke drawing a new sound from your lips, each touch sparking with pure desire. His name slips from you in a breathless whisper, more like a spiritual chant, and he lets out a soft, satisfied chuckle, clearly revelling in the effect he’s having on you.

“Just like that?” he murmurs, his voice a warm rumble that makes you tremble. His thumb moves again, circling over your clit with just the right pressure, and the sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within you. You don’t know if it’s possible, but if some thumbs on earth are soulmates to a specific clit, but you’re pretty sure you just found yours.  

Your hands grip his shoulders, fingers digging in, clinging to him as he brings you closer to the peak, his fingers curling inside you, finding that spot that makes you gasp, your entire body tensing as waves of pleasure wash over you. You’ve had boyfriends that took years to find your perfect spot, yet this man found it in 0.02 seconds.

With your climax coming in a desperate rush, every nerve tingles and every breath is shallow as he drives you higher. But before you can hear that orchestra in your ears and feel that flutter in your chest, he withdraws his fingers.

The look in his eyes is unmistakable, dark with intent lust, and he swallows hard, his gaze flicking down to his fingers, seeing your essence covering them like a delicious glaze. “I can’t…” he starts, his voice rough, thick with desire. “I need you. Right now.”

Before you can register the rush of frustration and want building up inside, he’s lifting you, pressing your back against the wall, his hands as his hand roam every inch of you, obviously desperate. You taste his need, his hunger, in the way his lips move over yours, the way he presses into you as though he can’t get close enough.

Your heart races in excitement as you wrap your legs around his waist, his hands gripping your hips, positioning you exactly where he needs you. You have never fucked in a club before and you would scold any of your friends who did, but right now, all you care about is Jay. 

And the feeling is mutual on your tango partner’s shoulders. Every ounce of restraint he had is gone now; nothing is holding him back as he lowers his mouth to your neck, murmuring words between breaths that are nearly incoherent but fill you with a thrill.

He shifts, undoing his belt and pushing down his jeans and boxers just enough that he can still pretend he’s clothed and not raise suspicion, his hips press into yours, and the anticipation is electric, his cock throbbing. “Ready?” he breathes, his eyes locking onto yours, waiting for the slightest nod that will shatter the last of the resistance between you, bringing you both into the heat of what’s been simmering throughout the night.

Your heart thuds wildly in your chest as you nod, feeling every nerve in your body poised, waiting and he holds you steady against the wall. He adjusts his grip, his hands sliding under your thighs, lifting you a little higher, and the way his body aligns with yours makes you feel like you’re floating - that could also be the alcohol but quite honestly, you might just be drunk on the idea of his cock right now rather than the vodka. 

Then, in one fluid motion, he pushes forward, filling you completely, and a gasp slips from your lips, the sudden pleasure stealing the breath from your lungs. His jaw clenches as he feels you tighten around him, his grip on your hips firm as he holds you steady. He doesn’t move at first, just stays there, feeling every inch of you wrapped around him, as though grounding himself in the sensation. You’re easily the most perfect pussy he has ever had, he’s tempted to say that you’re made for him, and while his heart might feel that way, it’s far too soon to think it. 

A shiver runs through you, the stretch of him catching you off guard, and you can see it in his eyes too - the struggle to keep himself in check, the restraint that’s quickly slipping away. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he lets out a low, guttural groan. “You feel…incredible,” he breathes, his voice cloaked in nothing but pure lust, with the potential for something else hidden in there. But your mind is lost in a forest of thick and long cocks, wishing you could have had a glimpse of it before he stuck it inside of you.

The first pull back and thrust is slow as he takes his time, savouring every second, while also trying not to get caught. But as he moves, each stroke becomes more intense and that careful control unravels quickly. His rhythm fastens, his body pressing into yours with a growing urgency that matches your own. You’re completely at his mercy, and he at yours, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you, building until you’re lost in it, your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close, pulling him deeper.

He kisses you hard, a collision of lips and teeth, both of you too consumed to slow down and make sure no one is watching. His hands roam over your body, fingers digging into your skin with a possessive edge as he moves faster, quick to claim you. It might not be the best spot to prove it, but he wants you to think about him for the rest of your life, each time you have someone else’s cock inside of you, you should just think about how his tip kisses your cervix and bumps against your pretty walls in the most delectable way. Although, with how he’s feeling right now, he will try and make sure that you never have another person inside you again, this spot reserved for him only now.

He breaks away from the kiss, his mouth moving down your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin, and you can feel him fighting to hold back, to make it last. The sounds between you - his heavy breathing, the low groans slipping from his lips, the soft moans you can’t hold back - create their own rhythm, blending with the thump of the club’s bass in the background. 

He shifts slightly, angling his hips, and suddenly, he hits that spot deep within you, sending a shockwave of pleasure that makes you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He tightens his hold, pressing you harder against the wall, his rhythm relentless as he focuses on that spot, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Your body feels electrified, every nerve on fire as he pushes you closer and closer to release.

“Jay…fuck, right there,” you moan into his ear, tongue swiping over the shell of his ear.

“You’re driving me mad,” he mutters, his voice strained, breath coming in short gasps. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” But he doesn’t slow down; if anything, his movements become even faster, his need matching yours, both of you racing toward that peak, that release that feels so close, just out of reach.

And then, finally, you can’t hold back anymore. The pleasure curves in a wave that crashes through you, leaving you gasping, clinging to him as your body shudders with the intensity of it. Your core tightens and body stills, a contrast to the people around you who are mindlessly and drunkenly swaying to the beats. You have never been more thankful for people being blottered with booze. 

Jay groans, feeling you tighten around him, and with a final thrust, he follows, his body tensing as he spills into you, his face buried in the curve of your neck, lost in his own release. The spurts of his seed fill you and it’s only then do you realise that no condom was involved. Normally, you would curse yourself out, the stupidity of the act more reckless than driving a gold buggy on the M8, yet, the hot glisten of his cum filling you up feels so right.

For a long moment, you both stay like that, pressed together, breathing hard, the world gradually coming back into focus. His grip loosens, and he leans back slightly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he meets your gaze, a mix of satisfaction and warmth in his eyes. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, gentler this time, a quiet contrast to the urgency that had consumed you both moments ago.

With each of you staring at one another in wonder, the dawning of realisation that you just had sex in a grotty, overpacked club finally hits you both, you just laugh, and Jay follows, placing his head on your shoulder as his move up and down in amusement.

Gently, Jay helps you steady yourself as you find your feet, his arm around you as he watches you carefully, making sure you’re all right. As you both adjust, smoothing clothes and buckling belts, you scan the room to see across the dance floor, Dosie and Yuki are still dancing, blissfully unaware of your absence for what’s been at least two hours now. You snicker, nodding in their direction, and Jay follows your gaze, his smile widening as he takes in your friends, clearly oblivious to your escapades.

“Hey,” he says, pulling your attention back to him, his eyes bright with a glint of hope. “Do you, uh…wanna grab something to eat?”

You raise an eyebrow, amused, feeling that flutter in your chest at his sudden shift from club fling to something more. “Eat?”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “I mean, might as well get to know each other considering I owe you a Plan B, and then maybe a coffee?” He trails off, eyes dropping with a hint of boyish embarrassment and hopefulness.

A laugh bubbles up, and you give him a playful nudge. “Alright, let’s grab a bite…maybe some condoms.”

Jay’s eyes light up at the prospect of more with you, not just physically, but getting to know you, to learn everything about you, to just be with you.

“Sure, let’s go.”

_____

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