#and they usually contain alcohol

[rainbowgod666]

Fuckign mug

cauldron is such a good word

[akuma-tenshi]

BOY PUT THE WHITE WINE DOWN BAD THINGS HAPPEN WHEN YOU DRINK THAT SHIT

[svt17-imagines]

𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍʙɪɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏʙꜱᴄᴇɴᴇʟʏ ʜᴏᴛ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ꜱʟᴀꜱʜ ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ, ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴏᴊᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ?

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 14ᴋ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ʟᴏᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ꜱᴇx, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴏʀᴀʟ (ꜰ. ʀᴇᴄɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ)

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜰᴜʟʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴɪɴᴇ ʏᴀʀᴅꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴜᴄʜ, ʜᴏᴘᴇꜰᴜʟʟʏ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ᴏᴋᴀʏ ʟᴏʟ ɪ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴡʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜɪʟᴅ ᴜᴘ ꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ɪꜱ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ꜱɪᴅᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ!<3

—

You couldn’t contain the maniacal laughter that escaped your throat as Wonwoo choked on his drink, a coughing fit erupting as he reached for the closest napkin he could find.

“I’m sorry… what did you just say?” He held his forearm to his mouth, desperately trying to contain any remaining coughs still threatening to escape.

“You heard me.” You leaned back against the foot of the couch, your legs sitting criss cross on the floor while you knocked your head back to take another shot. You giggled afterwards, wiping any leftover soju from your lips. “No man has ever made me come. Not even Si-woo.”

It was an embarrassing thing to bring up in retrospect, especially to your roommate of three years who up until now you’d only ever sparingly told the details of your intimate life to. But who the hell even cared about pride anymore? 

Certainly not you… and certainly not the copious amount of alcohol currently traversing your system.

“But… you two were together for so long?” The confused expression on Wonwoo's face was downright adorable, and the subconscious urge to pinch his cheek was immediately pushed down. 

“All relationships take sacrifice, mine just so happened to be any chance of ever achieving orgasm.” You cringed outwardly as you thought back to a particularly tough memory. “I remember one time he rubbed my inner thigh for like fifteen minutes thinking it was my—“

“STOP!” He croaked out, cheeks flushing brightly as you released a loud cackle, your eyes tearing up at your precious best friend.

You and Wonwoo had first properly met at the start of college, which was baffling considering you both had gone to the same highschool for four years without uttering so much as a single word to one another. It wasn’t to say you'd been completely blind to his existence that entire time, he had just always been much more reserved and quiet back then.

Not to mention way too handsome for you to even think about approaching. 

If anything, the only people he ever really spoke with was your current mutual group of friends. You remembered meeting Seungkwan junior year, but it wasn’t until you were actually partnered as lab buddies in college that you’d grown close enough to get invited over for a pool party at his friend Soonyoungs place. Kwan had been in the middle of introducing you to Jihoon when a few people shouting from across the yard had stolen your attention, you could hardly recognize the goofy grinned boy who was getting flicked after losing a punishment game to be the same shy Wonwoo whom you’d only ever snuck spare glances at for the past four years.

The first thing you noticed was just how effortlessly funny he secretly was. Never in your life would you have guessed that Wonwoo, who only a few years prior refused to even make eye contact as you borrowed his pen, would’ve been right in front of you borderline screaming his lungs out into a karaoke machine. You and everyone else couldn’t breathe laughing as he strained to sing as high as his uncharacteristically deep voice could manage, all in an attempt to beat Soonyoung's high score. The entire night he continued to crack the most absurd one liners, which somehow felt even funnier because of just how impassive he usually was at school. You couldn’t contain the fit of giggles that escaped you practically every time he spoke, all while his hyungs encouraged him and wheezed in fits of laughter by your side.

The second thing you noticed was just how much the two of you actually had in common, your first real conversation sparking from an in depth discussion of FPS games, resulting in a borderline nerd off between the two of you for the rest of the party. You both got along so well that you had made plans for a duo match later that night, which then led into exchanging numbers, and then discord tags. You soon discovered a mutual love of classic movies, which turned into weekly film nights, then sleepovers, which led to grabbing breakfast together, then lunch… The two of you eventually spent so much time together that Wonwoo suggested you become roommates.

It was an offer that you agreed to almost instantly.

It worked perfectly. You each liked to have your own space, but not too much as you both got lonely pretty frequently. And the best part about two introverts living together meant that you also understood each other's social battery, which for some reason never really drained around Wonwoo. It wasn’t uncommon for one person to knock on the other's door out of boredom, asking to have a movie night or a meal together, or even just relax quietly in each other's presence. He was easy to talk to, listened to your ramblings and never judged. You’d rant to him whenever anything bothered you or made you upset, but you always made sure not to take it too far as you never wanted to risk making him uncomfortable.

But you were feeling a bit too loose tonight, maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through your system or the fact that you had just dumped your boyfriend a few days prior. Maybe it was the frustration you’d been bottling up at how shittily your, now ex, treated you for the past year. Everything was slipping through your lips a lot easier than usual, even the information you typically kept close to your chest was pouring out without any filter.

As was evidenced by the abrupt confession about your sex life.

“I thought things were, um, really good between you two on that front?” Wonwoo let out, his brows furrowing together in pure confusion. “I mean you never really talked to me about that stuff, but the noises coming from your room—“

“Fake. All of it.” You snorted, and the look on Wonwoo’s face was so comical you had to force your dizzy head not to fall over laughing. “What can I say, I’m one hell of an actress.”

Wonwoo had to practically wrench his gaping mouth shut, taking a swig of his beer as he seemed to mull over that information. You knew he wasn’t a big drinker, but after you came home practically begging to have a few drinks together to get your mind off of the hellish week you’d had he couldn’t just say no. Letting him have a few beers was the best you could compromise, as you were left to down the harder alcohol sitting in front of you both.

“Is that why you guys broke up?” He asked carefully, testing the waters. Your eyes widened slightly, realizing you’d never actually explained the details to Wonwoo, partially because the wound was still fresh but also because it was yet another embarrassing situation that made you feel small and vulnerable. You gave him a gentle smile and shook your head no, allowing the alcohol to explain for you.

“He’d been texting other girls for the past three months.” You sighed, pouring yourself another glass. “Wasn’t even careful about it either, he got a tinder and a hinge notification while I was over one night. What a dumbass.” 

You downed the shot, this one burning your throat slightly more than the rest and you scowled at the feeling. It pissed you off, the fact that you wasted a year of your life with such a shithead and there was nothing to show for it in the end. Wonwoo’s silence might’ve been your cue to shut up if you’d been sober, but your inebriated brain just took it as an invitation to continue.

“I think the part that confused me the most was that I actually felt so relieved when I found out.” You put the shot glass on the coffee table, Wonwoo raised a brow in surprise. “I mean yeah, I was fucking furious about it. Woke that asshole up by dumping a cup of water directly on his head, packed my stuff and didn’t look back once.”

You fidgeted with the soju bottle, thinking over all the conflicting feelings you’d been working through the past few days. “But once I saw those notifications on his phone it really just kinda put everything into perspective for me, I guess. I don’t think I ever once actually imagined a future with the guy. I think, secretly, I always wanted some kind of excuse to end things.” 

You adjusted your hand, even all the alcohol in your system suddenly wasn’t enough. “It probably makes me a bitch to say this, but I don’t think I meant it a single time I told him I loved him.” You winced slightly at your own words, a sliver of guilt trailing up your spine. “I would’ve felt bad if I didn’t say it back, you know? We were together for a while, and it’s not like I’m getting any younger.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “You’re not a bitch.” Your eyes shifted to study his face, his expression concerned but his eyes soft. “I’ve been here the entire time, every fight and every argument. The guy was a douchebag.”

You offered him a grateful smile, Wonwoo was always there. He comforted you and listened to you during even the absolute worst moments of your relationship, but never once did he tell you to break up with him. It confused you, since most of your friends came to that very same conclusion any time you so much as brought Si-woo’s name up. 

“... Why don’t you ever… talk bad about him?” You remembered sniffling into a crumpled tissue, leaning into Wonwoo’s shoulder after finishing a particularly rough venting session. You’d just bawled your eyes out after the usual spat with Si-woo, and Wonwoo was rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back.

He furrowed his brows together and paused his motions. “What do you mean?” 

“You listen to me cry and complain about him so much, usually Hao or Jihoon get sick of it and tell me to just dump him already.” You hiccuped slightly, and you noticed his lip curl up in amusement. “But you never say anything… Doesn't it bother you? That I still stay with him even after all of this?” 

“I hate that you’re hurting, and I don’t like seeing you sad.” He frowned slightly, and brushed a strand of hair from your tear stained cheeks. “But if you have to cry, I’m just glad I can be here so you’re not feeling these things alone.” 

He playfully placed his index finger between your eyebrows and pushed your head back softly, you laughed and another hiccup escaped “I trust that you would leave him if you felt like it was the right thing to do. I don’t think offering up solutions and badmouthing him while you’re in so much distress will help anything.” His gentle smile practically froze you in place, the genuineness in his tone melting away any lingering tears. 

“I’m always here, if you ever need someone to just listen.”

That singular moment provided you more comfort than you could ever remember receiving from someone. You weren’t scared to talk about your feelings anymore, you didn’t have to hide your emotions around Wonwoo like you might’ve done around the other guys. But it also disappointed you to a certain degree, because in all honesty if there was anyone you wanted to tell you to end things with Si-woo… It was him.

You knew you’d developed feelings for Wonwoo about a month after meeting him. It wasn’t hard, with how easily the two of you had bonded and how breathtakingly handsome he was. It was more difficult to actually keep it a secret, as you were both practically inseparable and he was always looking at you with such kind eyes and the prettiest smile. 

The thought of confessing never so much as crossed your mind. You never dared even speak about it aloud, not even to your friends, but the feelings involuntarily stuck around longer than you anticipated. One month of friendship turned into two, then three turned into four, and when you hit a year was when it all came to a crashing stop.

Your friend Mingyu had set Wonwoo up on a blind date with someone from his job, and they ended up becoming official not long after.

Hana was her name, gorgeous with long dark hair and wispy lashes, she had a model figure and the most charming Daegu dialect. She suited Wonwoo well, the two of them immediately becoming an absolute powerhouse of a couple in terms of visuals. You congratulated your friend and his new girlfriend with smiles and squeals of course, but it did nothing to stop the silent cries you’d given your pillow the weeks following. It took time, it took effort, and it took a lot of strength, but you eventually got past it. 

Si-woo was your first venture into dating after properly getting over your little crush, about a year after Hana and Wonwoo got together. He treated you like a princess in the beginning, and you had to admit it helped soothe that leftover ache.

It was the small moments, the good moments with Si-woo where you felt yourself properly moving forward, moving past all those lingering feelings. But it was the bad moments that made you regret it, the ones where he would search through your phone while you went to the bathroom, the ones where he would ignore you for days because you were laughing a little too much at one of Dokyeom’s jokes, the ones where he wouldn’t take you on any dates unless you agreed to pay for them.

It wasn’t right, all your friends knew it and you did too, but routine can be a scarily addictive thing.

You remember being proud of yourself for not feeling much when Wonwoo had told you he and Hana had broken up, roughly a month into your own relationship with Si-woo. Obviously you felt concern for your friend’s wellbeing, for his mental state and whether or not he was heartbroken over it all. But you didn’t squeak in concealed excitement, you didn’t jump for joy behind closed doors, and you didn’t go to bed picturing yourself and Wonwoo’s first date like you probably would have a year prior.

You might’ve felt a little bit of happiness. But only a little.

“Look at you, finally saying something bad about him.” You chuckled, watching your own hand pour soju into a glass as if you had no control over it. “I’m surprised you held back for so long, Hao always had lots of creative words to describe Si-woo. “

“I’m not gonna lie, keeping it in was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” You snickered outwardly as he exhaled. “But you needed someone to listen. That was much more important than making it known how badly I wanted to shove his head into a wall.”

“Tell that to Cheol, he almost strangled the guy when I told him half the shit he did.” A sigh escaped and you softly swished the soju against the shot glass. “I mean honestly, when he used to get mad at me for hanging out with the guys? Calling the video games I played childish, nagging me if I wore something even slightly revealing to class, the list goes on and on.”

Wonwoo shook his head with a huff. “I never knew how you dealt with him, I respected it, but I never understood it.”

“I honestly have no idea either, dude.” You exhaled, your cheeks puffing as you leaned your head back to look at the ceiling fan. “What’s even worse is I faked so many orgasms for that fucker just so he wouldn’t feel bad, I gave the performance of a goddamn lifetime too!”

“You were doing charity work honestly.” He chuckled, sipping his beer once more. “I don’t think I remember you ever saying a single good thing about the guy while you were together, isn’t that crazy?”

“That’s because there wasn’t.” You snickered, your eyes glancing to look at Wonwoo once more. “The worst was when we fought about you, though.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Me?” You nodded, smiling at his expression. “You never once mentioned you guys having arguments because of me?”

“I never wanted you to feel bad because of it.” You shrugged a single shoulder, the rest of your muscles completely relaxed. “You’re my roommate. You’re also an attractive guy. He was a controlling and jealous asshole. It’s pretty easy to put two and two together with how he’d react.” 

Wonwoo seemed conflicted, as if unsure whether to apologize for causing issues or to agree with the sentiment of Si-woo being a terrible partner. Your next words came out like an echo, and your mind was much too slow to stop them from spilling out before they reached your tongue.

“To be fair, he was right to be worried.”

A stifling silence fell upon the cozy living room, and you weren’t even able to fully process what you had actually said because you were too busy taking another shot. The movement of it made you feel fuzzy, and the look Wonwoo was giving you made you giggle.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes were slightly narrowed, and his mouth looked oh so attractive at the moment you just wanted to crawl over and nibble on it. A stray laugh escaped your mouth.

“I had a crush on you, dumbass.” You hiccuped, using your hands to emphasize something large. “A biiiiig one, a long time ago~”

You reached down to pour another shot but Wonwoo stopped your hand. You frowned, watching as he brought the soju bottle and glass to his side and away from you. 

“If you’re just gonna sit there drinking your little beer like a baby, one of us has to at least finish all the real alcohol!” You whined, pushing your arm out and attempting to snatch the bottle back weakly.

Wonwoo was still for a moment, and instead of giving in to your complaints proceeded to take a long swig from the bottle itself. You couldn’t hide the dumb grin growing on your face as he drank it all down in one go, a couple of coughs escaping to show his unfamiliarity with the drink.

“There, all gone. No more for you.” He spoke while clearing his throat, and your head was barely able to comprehend the fact that he was right. The bottle Wonwoo had just finished was the last, everything else on the table being empty or with just enough to fill a cap full. You groaned.

“We should go get moreee, you need to get on my level so we’re even.” You grunted, attempting to stand up from your seat on the floor but stumbling and falling back down in your original spot. 

“I don’t think any amount of alcohol would ever get me to the state you’re in right now.” Wonwoo chuckled, his voice low and deep, practically giving you goosebumps. “You should get ready for bed before you black yourself out.”

“You promised you’d distract me from my shitty week, if you send me to my room all I’m gonna do is drive myself insane thinking about everything.” You pouted, swaying slightly and giving your roommate a questioning brow. “Are you going back on your word? Abandoning your drunk, sad, pitiful friend like this?”

Wonwoo let out a deep sigh and you knew you had him, he grabbed his beer once more and took his final sip of it before placing it on the coffee table. “Fine, what do you want to do?”

“Games.” You clapped excitedly, shaking your head when Wonwoo started crawling over to set up the PlayStation a few feet from you both. “Not video games, board games! Or a card game or something.”

“I’m pretty sure we left all our physical stuff at Jun’s place last time we all hung out.” Wonwoo frowned after peering through the glass cubbies of your media cabinet. “I’m not sure we have anything here to play with.”

You thought for a moment, eyeing down the empty shot glass when the idea sprang up almost instantly. “What about ‘Questions’? We haven’t played that in so long!”

“A drinking game? Did you forget that I just downed the rest of the alcohol?” Wonwoo motioned to the table, scratching the back of his neck. “The whole point is to drink if you can’t answer.”

“We can just answer everything then!” You snickered, watching as Wonwoo rubbed his eyes under his glasses, no doubt exhausted by your behavior tonight. “Orrrr we can bet. Whoever doesn’t answer first has to do whatever the winner wants.”

He looked at you for a moment, considering. Those spare seconds allowed your delirious mind to subtly ogle your roommate, your mouth drying up just from a mere once-over of him. He picked out the most basic, comfortable clothes he owned, a plain cotton black tee with loose fitting black sweats, and yet it always baffled you how he still managed to look runway ready. His long black hair was messy, and the itch to run your hands through it all was interrupted when Wonwoo moved to settle in and leaned his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his palm.

“Fine, deal. You first then.” He nodded towards you and you couldn’t help the feelings of excitement and happiness that bubbled up in your stomach. You sat up straight to think.

“If you had to make out with one of the guys, who would you choose?” You cackled loudly as Wonwoo scrunched his face in disgust at the question. He hesitated for a while, and you grinned thinking you might’ve already won.

“Jeonghan, but specifically when he had his long hair.” You let out a noise of approval but he visibly shivered at the thought. “I’d simply close my eyes and try not to think about it.”

“Hot.” Wonwoo threw a stray couch pillow at your face in retaliation and you snorted a laugh. “Jokinggg~ It’s your turn.”

“… So, when exactly did you have that little crush on me?” You rolled your eyes.

“Not letting that confession slip past, I see?” You scoffed at his small self satisfied smirk, the urge to kiss it off fighting every nerve in your intoxicated head. “You’re so obvious, trying to fluster me… but I’m over it buddy. Those dazzling charms don’t work on me anymore!”

“I’m not hearing an answer.” Wonwoo hummed, the corner of his eyes crinkling to match his smile. “Should I take that as me winning? Or~”

You sighed and gave in reluctantly. “A few weeks after becoming friends.” His smile turned to a look of genuine surprise and you suddenly felt a bit self conscious at airing it all out.

“That early on?” He spoke uncharacteristically gently, and you nodded slowly. His brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you ever tell me—“

“Woah there buddy, not your turn anymore!” You laughed a bit anxiously, already trying to think of a question that would get him to lose lest he keep pressing the subject. “My turn now!”

Wonwoo appeared disappointed but motioned a hand for you to continue. The hammering in your chest was a little too hard, and you weren’t sure if it was just because of the soju anymore.

“Why did you and Hana break up?” You spoke softly. In your head it was a sure fire way of winning, he had never told anyone the reason, not even the guys. You respected his privacy enough not to prod the subject, but you figured if there was any time to casually ask about it, it was while the soju was still thrumming strong in your veins. He stayed quiet for a few beats, and right when you were sure you had won, he sighed before answering. 

“We never actually loved each other.” He spoke quietly, almost to the point where you had to strain to hear him. “We distracted each other for a decent amount of time, but that’s pretty much it.”

You knitted your brows together, shocked at how his one answer managed to cause a million other questions to run through your mind. What on earth did he mean by that? Him and Hana were a match made in heaven as far as you were able to see, both of them practically glowing whenever they had each other around. They never fought, always went on dates, hell she even stayed over at the apartment a few times.

“When did it stop?” Wonwoo’s voice tore you out of your own racing thoughts, and you looked at him dumbly.

“What?”

“The feelings you had for me.” He specified, his tone a lot more serious compared to when you began. “When did they stop?”

You swallowed dryly. If you were to be completely honest with yourself, they never went away. The overwhelming crush you had on him had been gone for a while now, but nothing ever really stopped those lingering feelings that still sat heavy in the back of your chest. If they were gone, why were you still finding him as gloriously kissable as the day you’d met.

“When you started dating Hana. I officially gave up around that time.” You let out whatever the liquor allowed you to, trying not to ponder too hard on it. “I mean, I couldn’t exactly have feelings for a taken guy, what would that make me?” An awkward chuckle escaped as you did your best to diffuse the tension a bit.

Wonwoo’s expression was unreadable, and your brain wasn’t even focused on the game anymore. Your head simply became muddled with questions, barely able to remember that you were only allowed to ask one at a time.

“What do you mean by ‘distracted each other’?” It was an odd thing to say no matter how you put it, and there was no guarantee that even if Wonwoo felt that way that Hana did as well. And maybe it was a delusional one track minded bias towards your roommate, but you didn’t want to think that he was just using her either.

“When Mingyu set us up, I had feelings for someone else at the time.” Your eyebrows raised in surprise at the new piece of information, Wonwoo distracted himself by picking at his fingernails. “And when I met Hana, she told me she had feelings for someone else as well. But she said that it would never work out, she was extremely resigned to that fact.”

It took you all but a minute to put the pieces together.

“… Mingyu?” You asked, Wonwoo nodded.

“The person she liked most set her up on a dozen blind dates, how much harder can you really friendzone someone?” You nodded in understanding, feeling a heavy amount of pity for the poor girl. “My own self confidence was pretty low at the time, so we kind of just saw ourselves in one another. We did actually try dating at first but it never really felt right, it became more like a mutual partnership than anything else. We talked a lot, mostly about how hard it was to bottle everything up. We’d go out but would never hold hands, we’d sleep over but I would always take the floor, I’d pat her back while she sobbed over Mingyu and she’d listen to me vent till we knocked out. We just… helped each other. Distracted ourselves for a bit.”

You nodded in thought, noticing a small weight lift off your chest. What he had with Hana was companionship, it was sweet and caring but never romantic. It slightly fascinated you that they were able to maintain such a platonic relationship for an entire year, and baffled you even more that neither even came close to falling for each other when they were both such attractive people inside and out.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Wonwoo’s voice came out slightly strained, prompting you to give him your full attention. He suddenly seemed… frustrated? Upset? You weren’t sure, but the tightening of his jaw and downward gaze made your heart clench just from looking at him.

You could’ve lied, you could’ve said a half truth like being scared of ruining your friendship or that you just hadn’t thought about all that in forever. The alcohol flowing through your bloodstream had other plans though, and you had no restraint as you felt the real answer pour out without a second guess.

“What? And embarrass myself?” You laughed airily, watching Wonwoo’s expression tighten slightly. The most you could offer him was a shrug. “It was more like a fantasy to me, something I used to daydream about. Trust me, I am very self aware of where I rank on the attractiveness scale, especially compared to you. Telling you would’ve done nothing but humiliate the shit out of me, and getting rejected would have sent me spiraling.”

Wonwoo frowned, looking up at you with his brows scrunched in concentration. “Did I do something to come across as unapproachable to you? I hope you know I’d never ever make you feel bad over something like that.”

You shook your head immediately. “Nothing like that at all.” The fuzziness in your brain made your words slur a bit, and you paused before continuing. “I just meant I’ve always thought of you as way too out of my league to even consider—“

Silence.

Wonwoo’s conflicted expression dropped altogether, a small smile forming not too long after. Fine, maybe you’d just hinted that you still thought that way now. But what did you have to lose at this point? He knew about the crush, and there wasn’t much else for you to really expose about yourself. The feeling was oddly liberating, not having to hide or keep it all in anymore. Surely your sober self will be mortified in the morning, but right now you were simply enjoying the freedom that came with your inebriated state.

Just when you were about to scoff out something about never boosting his ego like that ever again, you noticed that the smile that had appeared faded just as quickly. You held your breath, his gaze becoming stone serious.

“I never want to hear you bringing yourself down like that, you have it completely backwards.” The sudden sincerity in his tone took you by complete surprise. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever come across as indifferent to you, but I do think you have severely underestimated just how breathtaking you are.”

Your eyes widened, utterly dumbfounded by the abrupt admittance. In the past three years Wonwoo had only explicitly called you attractive a handful of times, each one forever being burned into your memory as something to cherish. Granted it wouldn’t exactly have been appropriate for him to constantly be calling you hot while he had a girlfriend or when you had a boyfriend, but it just made the flattery he did give that much more heartfelt and genuine. 

You felt your cheeks burn warm and you suddenly became incredibly overwhelmed by the temperature of the living room, pressing the back of your palm to your forehead briefly in a half-assed attempt to cool your face. You offered him a small smile, trying to play off how affected you become just from his praise alone.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” you begin, a mock warning in your voice. “You’re not sly, I know you’re still trying to fluster me.”

“Maybe my goal is to get you to fall for me all over again~” He wiggled his brow, and you felt your eyes roll back for the millionth time that night. “Your turn, go.”

You tried to think of anything other than the one real question that kept stubbornly pushing its way into the front of your mind. You knew it had the power to either help you move on, hurt you, or… something else. You weren’t sure, but one look at Wonwoo and it felt almost as if he knew what you were thinking. Without wasting another second, the question tumbled out without a spare thought.

“You mentioned having feelings for someone when you started dating Hana…” You licked your lips, trying to sound as casual as you could but failing miserably. “Who was it?”

The stare you gave Wonwoo was anything but subtle, but you didn’t care. Your heart pounded, palms sweated, face heated as you found that you didn’t care to hide it anymore. It had been years since the “end” of your crush and you had already spilled everything tonight, the least he could do was give you the closure you’d been craving all this—

“You.” 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as Wonwoo offered a genuine smile. You simultaneously wanted to smack it off and kiss it off at the same time. You had to remind yourself that this was years ago he was talking about, not now. It was the only thing grounding you to the spot and keeping yourself from lunging at him.

“You’re such a dumbass.” You let slip, making Wonwoo’s smile fall slightly from his face. “What kind of idiot gets into a relationship with another girl when he has a crush on someone else? Talk about self sabotage.”

“Now how the hell was I supposed to know you liked me too?”

“Dude, you really think I actually enjoyed just sitting there and watching you play League for five hours straight?”

“Do you think I enjoyed driving you to the official Sanrio store every week to look at the same five plushies you were never gonna buy?”

“… Touché.” 

You both let out a stream of chuckles, but your muddled mind couldn’t let go of the fact that at one point in time, you both had feelings for one another. The guy who you dreamt and fantasized about for a year straight had liked you. Not only that, but he’d liked you even when he was with Hana, one of the most beautiful girls you’d ever seen. Your heated blood combined with the temperature of the room grew to be almost unbearable.

“If you don’t mind me asking, then…” You picked at a stray thread coming from the bottom of your shorts to keep yourself busy. “When did the feelings stop? On your end, I mean.” 

You looked up at Wonwoo when he remained quiet, his expression unreadable. You raised an irritated brow at him when you couldn’t handle the silence anymore, and he grinned mischievously.

“I would answer, but it’s not your turn~” He hummed, you groaned.

“Fine, go.” He didn’t even hesitate to ask his next question, your entire body tensed.

“You said the thought of us together was like a fantasy to you,” your finger that had been picking at a thread pulled it out a little too harshly, “what kinda stuff did you fantasize about?”

The copious amount of alcohol in your bloodstream wasn’t nearly enough to answer any easier than if you were sober. You couldn’t quite look at his face, but felt only a portion of the truth slip past your lips. It took every ounce of strength in your body to restrain yourself from exposing more than needed.

“Just, you know, stuff that everyone thinks about when they like someone.” You shrugged, fighting the blush creeping up your neck. “Going on dates, holding hands, sometimes kissing…”

“Being intimate?” Wonwoo asked and you froze, indirectly answering the question for him. “Was I good at it? In those fantasies?”

You didn’t need to look at him to realize he was probably just messing with you now, and you suddenly felt a small rush of regret for the potential ammo you’ve just given him to tease you for the years to come. Sure, he’d confessed his past feelings too, but that was still nothing in comparison to just how much you’d spilled about yourself tonight.

“Have you ever thought about me? When you were—“

“It’s my turn!” You interjected, eager to get a break from embarrassing yourself further. “You need to answer my question first.” 

He shut his mouth and nodded, sitting back slightly with his hands relaxing in his lap. Perhaps it was wishful thinking or the soju clouding your brain, but after finally looking at his face again you noticed he seemed to be more genuinely curious than joking. His posture was straight, and his demeanor was surprisingly serious for someone who only meant to tease you.

“Same question I asked before.” You spoke softly, looking him up and down. “When did your feelings stop?”

Your heart practically stopped beating when he shook his head, his posture still stiff and seemingly anxious. You crinkled your brow, unsure if you actually understood the meaning of his response.

“They didn’t.” He spoke a bit shakily with a nervous grin plastered on, you felt a clump form in the back of your throat. “I ended things with Hana because I started feeling bad. We used to be pretty balanced when it came to communication, but after you started dating Si-woo… Let’s just say she listened to me vent a lot more than was healthy for either of us.”

You stayed quiet and unbearably still, afraid that moving would wake you from the potential dream you were currently experiencing.

“No matter how hard I tried, I’ve just never been able to stop thinking about you.” He mumbled carefully, eyeing your reaction. “But that’s not to say I can’t suppress it, as long as I have you in my life at all I’m more than happy. Even if it’s just as friends—“

“I used to go to sleep imagining what your lips would feel like.” You croaked out before you could stop yourself. Wonwoo’s eyes widened. “They just… they always looked so soft… I wanted to kiss you until I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore.” 

“Wh— What…” He stuttered out, swallowing loudly. “Um, what else did you think about?”

“Whenever I went into your room while you were playing a game, I’d imagine you grabbing my waist and pulling me into your lap.” You shuddered slightly, watching Wonwoo’s eyes darken. “I thought about h-how your hand might feel squeezing my thighs, my waist… brushing under my shirt.”

“You remember that heat wave we had a few months ago? The one where our AC broke for a week straight?” He tilted his head slightly as he looked you up and down, you nodded your head slowly. “I lied about the maintenance guy being booked. I just wanted to see you walking around the apartment in that skimpy little tank top and those silk short-shorts a little longer.”

You smiled at that, your blood pumping faster at the thought that you might’ve affected him just as much as he affected you. Your eyes locked on the pair of lips that had plagued your mind for years and your mouth went dry.

“I used to think to myself a lot, about how hot you look in those glasses.” You spoke dumbly, biting your bottom lip as if to reign it in for the time being. “I always wanted to know if they stayed on. Whenever you…“

His brow raised almost instantly at your question, he smiled a little and adjusted the pair of glasses almost instinctively. You all but drooled at the sight, finding it nearly impossible to control anything at this point.

”They tend to either fall off or fog up, so I typically just take them off.” Wonwoo said, seeming to think over his next sentence carefully. “But I guess I wouldn’t mind trying to keep them on, if it was something my partner was into.”

You had to force yourself not to nod subconsciously, your veins thrumming at the very familiar fantasy of a half naked Wonwoo holding himself above you in his dorky little glasses. Instead you chose to shift your position to sit on your hands, lest your arms decide to reach out and touch the very tempting man seated across from you.

“Have you ever thought about me?” You scrunch your nose at Wonwoo, making it clear you didn’t fully understand his question. He let out a slightly shaky breath but spoke in a voice that oozed seriousness. “When touching yourself… Did the thought of me ever make you…”

You grinned and bit down the blunt ‘orgasm?’ that attempted to spring from your throat haphazardly. You looked towards the floor, still a slight bit anxious despite everything already having been aired in the open.

“I’d say nearly every time.” You chuckled softly, the silence that followed not going unnoticed. “I felt really guilty and awful, especially since I was dating Si-woo at the time and I also felt like I was objectifying my best friend. But then somehow it kinda ended up being the only way I could get that release, it’s fucked up I know… I should’ve just tried porn or something—“

“I thought you said you stopped liking me after I started dating Hana?”

You froze, gaining an entire arms worth of goosebumps at the note of realization in Wonwoo’s tone. You licked your dry lips, willing your voice not to crack.

“Uh, y-yeah. I did.”

“But you started seeing Si-woo after me and Hana got together.”

“O-oh, yeah you’re right I was probably just confused—“

“So you lied then?” Wonwoo’s posture was arrow straight, not a single hint as to what could possibly be happening in his brain. “You still liked me, even after I started dating Hana?”

You looked him in the eyes, mouth opening and closing but the words remained stuck in the back of your throat. He waited patiently, eyes locked in and tracking every move you dared to make, from the ragged breaths you took to your fidgeting fingers gripping the carpet fibers.

“… I lied.” You nodded, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. “I-I mean the enormous crush I had on you disappeared but… those feelings are still—“

Wonwoo didn’t wait for you to finish, he stood from his place across the coffee table and walked over to sit next to you. Your eyes followed his movements nervously, shifting awkwardly to give him a few inches of space.

Both of you now sat with your backs to the foot of the couch, your bodies facing forward with your heads turned towards one another. Wonwoo studied your face carefully and you swore you felt your cheeks burn an impossible shade of red.

“You know I won, right?” Wonwoo smiled softly, causing your intoxicated brain to stutter at the sudden shift in topic.

“What?” 

“You lied to me. That counts as refusing to answer a question.” He shrugged slightly. “That means I won the game.”

You huffed out in mild annoyance, acknowledging that there was some validity in his reasoning. You were the one who rattled on yourself, there was no sense in fighting him.

“Fine, you won.” You admitted with a sigh, pouting out your bottom lip. An act that immediately caught Wonwoo’s gaze, and you felt your heart pick up its pace slightly.

“I believe there was a bet in place too,” Wonwoo spoke slowly, inching slightly closer to your side, “the loser has to do whatever the winner wants,” he brought his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his finger grazing your cheek and causing you to shiver, “do you remember?”

You nodded softly, anxiety and nervousness and excitement all bubbling up together in one big mesh of feelings within your chest. The proximity of your face to Wonwoo’s was close, but he was hesitating slightly and you were itching to pull him into you already.

“Is this okay?” Wonwoo asked shakily, cupping your chin and pressing his forehead to yours. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You nodded once more, a little too enthusiastically this time. Your hands slid up to wrap around his neck and lock him in place, as if subconsciously terrified of him changing his mind.

“God yes…” You practically whispered, Wonwoo smiled softly at your words. “Please, I—“

The kiss was gentle, at least at first. Nothing but the soft feeling of pressing lips together and the closeness it provided. And yet at the same time it felt like a gong being smacked in your head, ringing throughout your ears and reverberating throughout your entire body. The motion of his lips moving against your own combined with his scent, the feeling of his calloused thumb stroking your cheek so carefully, it made you feel lightheaded. It was as if you were floating on nothing, completely weightless, the only thing grounding you being Wonwoo’s lips on yours.

He pulled away too quickly, looking at you seemingly for some kind of confirmation that what you both were doing was still okay. You gave him another quick nod, and he immediately dove back in.

The second time was much more intense, both of your eagerness quickly surpassing Wonwoo’s original intent to keep it slow and steady. Your lips moved languidly, opening slightly in an attempt to deepen the kiss to which he hungrily accepted. His hand hurriedly shifted to the back of your head to grab a handful of hair and tug it gently, it lowered to your neck, to your shoulders, to your arms, your waist. He gave you a squeeze and pulled you closer, almost like he couldn’t feel enough of you as quickly as he wanted. You clung on to the back of his neck like your life depended on it, relishing in the firm grip of his hands on your waist.

Your blood was on fire, every inch of you burning to be touched and to get closer to him. Your head grew dizzy from the very thought that any of this was actually happening, that Wonwoo was kissing you like he needed it to survive, that you were kissing him back. You almost didn’t believe it was real, that any moment now you’d wake up in a puddle of sweat in your bed and panting like a damn dog. If your hands weren’t the only thing steadying you from the exhilarating feeling of Wonwoo’s lips on yours you might’ve tried pinching your thigh to wake yourself up.

After a few breathless moments Wonwoo pulled his mouth away, moving to kiss your jaw up and down, his favorite spot being right below your ear. The sound of his heavy breathing caused your entire body to shiver and you practically felt his smirk press into your skin. His mouth moved to the crook of your neck, licking slowly and sensually before sucking the places he especially liked. His mouth trailed back up your neck to nibble on a particularly sensitive spot and you involuntarily let out a small whine. 

Wonwoo froze, and you started panicking.

“Oh god I-I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I sound like that I’ll be more quiet—“

He dove back in to kiss you with a renewed fervor, his hands gripping your sides as if to anchor him as he let out a muffled groan. You gasped into his lips as he kissed you roughly, drinking you in as much as physically possible.

You couldn’t stop the satisfied smile that grew on your lips as you climbed yourself into Wonwoo’s lap, causing him to release an incredibly strained moan. His arms tightened around you, and his hands dipped under your sweater to make skin to skin contact with your waist. You arched into it, encouraging him as those same hands trailed up your back and down your spine, sending waves of tingles throughout your body. 

The two of you continued to kiss heatedly as Wonwoo proceeded to explore your stomach and upper ribs, not allowing himself nor you the pleasure of touching just a little higher and causing you to whine repeatedly. He seemed to partially enjoy being a tease, partially hate torturing himself by holding back.

“I-I can’t… Touch…” Wonwoo mumbled out between wet kisses, you eventually detached yourself from his mouth to return the favor of sucking and licking his neck, somewhat allowing him to get a few more words out. “I can’t touch you…”

You frowned slightly and nibbled on his collarbone before pulling away to face him. His hair was a wreck and sticking up everywhere, his glasses were fogged and barely hanging off the edge of his nose, his pale skin was beginning to flush and his eyes were lidded and dilated. If you hadn’t known that the guy had been sipping the same beer for the past two hours you might’ve thought he was completely hammered.

“Why? Why not?” You crinkled a brow, placing your hands around his own that had been gently stroking the skin just above your stomach. “It’d feel so nice, soft, sensitive…” You slowly inched his hands higher, and felt his fingers subconsciously brush against the underside of your breast. Wonwoo let out a surprised grunt and you silently celebrated your choice of going braless beneath your oversized sweater. You tilted your head all the way back and leaned into his touch with a whimper, trying to get him to do it again.

“Fuck, fuck…” Wonwoo practically whispered, his breath hitching as he closed his eyes in an attempt to regain his control. He took a few deep breaths but froze his motions completely much to your irritation, you huffed out in frustration and wiggled in his lap impatiently causing whatever remaining strings were left in him to snap.

He removed one of his hands and used it to pull you closer to him. His hand roughly gripped the back of your head to rest on his shoulder while his other traveled to your sternum, still not quite close enough to touch your breasts but enough to make you audibly groan out. 

“Are you trying to fucking torture me, huh?” He choked out, his already deep voice managing to go two octaves lower. “I’ve thought about this moment for years. You know how easily I could make you come right here? Right now?”

You whined and nodded quickly, feeling his hand sliding back downwards toward your navel. His mouth was pressed right against your ear, and the sound of his heavy breathing was fueling the boiling ache between your legs like nothing else.

“But no. I’m gonna take my time. I want to spend hours on you. I want to make sure you come back begging for me to touch you again.” His fingers trail the outline of your panties, causing you to shiver. “I’ll fuck you so good and dirty that it’s all you think about for months. You’ll be coming to my room in the middle of the night craving my tongue, and I guarantee my face will be buried between those thighs till you’re dumb and limp.”

Your entire body tensed up as the fire in your blood burned hotter, your whimpers became desperate as the desire to grind down on Wonwoo grew exponentially stronger. He seemed to catch on to this, immediately moving his hands to your hips to stall any movement. You groan out in irritation.

“But, I refuse to do any of that when you’re drunk.” His once incredibly lustful tone turned into one of gentleness and patience. You moved back from his shoulder to meet his eyes, gleaming with sincerity. “I need you to be completely aware of what we’re doing. I need you to be one hundred percent certain that this is something you want. And you definitely can’t do that right now.”

You pouted and were about to argue when you felt a spell of dizziness hit like a slap to the face. You gripped his shoulder to stabilize yourself, and his hold on your waist hardened to help steady you. 

“See I know you’re right, but part of me is even more turned on that you’re being a good person and not taking advantage of me.”

Wonwoo laughed audibly, his goofy smile warming your heart and instantly reminding you of how you came to fall for him in the first place. You leaned in to offer another slow, languid kiss to which he accepted. The fact that you could do that now, just kiss him whenever you wanted to, it was genuinely like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. You sneakily attempted to escalate the kiss before you felt your head being tugged back.

“That’s enough, bedtime.” You whined.

“Now tell me why the hell you riled me up that much if you were just going to send me to bed.” You frowned, pouting as Wonwoo chuckled.

“I held back for three years, do you have any idea how much self control it’s taking just for me to stop?” He smiled, fidgeting with a loose strand of your hair. “I can wait one more day, but first I need to make sure you don’t wake up regretting all this.”

You shook your head quickly, not wanting that thought to plague his mind for even a second. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned in to hug him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

“Never. I could never regret any of this.” You murmured, feeling your eyes flutter shut. A rumbling from his chest that indicated a soft laugh reverberated through your body, and you distantly felt yourself getting picked up off the ground and taken into your own bed.

As you felt the familiarity of your blankets and sheets being tucked in tightly around you, you realized he had no intention to stay. It took ninety nine percent of your inebriated brain’s capacity, but you managed to quickly snatch one of his hands before he turned to go to his own room.

“Stay tonight..” you mumbled out without even opening your eyes, you felt his hand tense. “I won’t do anything, just stay…”

The last thing you felt was the feeling of the bed sinking in next to you as you drifted into a dreamless sleep.

-

You were hot.

Extremely hot.

Did you forget to take off your clothes before bed last night? You typically slept in your underwear for that exact reason.

You shifted your legs slightly and grunted out when you felt the thick lining of your favorite sweatpants rub against one another. No wonder.

You adjusted your position in an attempt to remove the pants when you suddenly found yourself locked in place, a heavy weight over your shoulder pressing down and restricting you from moving freely. Not only that, a warm, soft hand was gently wrapped around your own.

Your eyes flew open as you suddenly became extremely aware of the predicament you’d put yourself in. His breathing felt slow and steady, indicating that the former still hadn’t woken up yet. His mouth seemed to be directly behind your neck, if the warm air continuously tickling the back of it was any indication. You let out a small shiver at the feeling.

And to make matters even worse, the hard length that seemed to be poking into your leg definitely belonged to none other than the guy you viciously made out with last night. 

IT WAS REAL?!

The splitting headache you’d initially felt completely dissipated as you instead focused on your actions last night. Your first thoughts began with denial, the truth that you’d spilt the entirety of your guts and more to your roommate and best friend who’d just been trying to cheer you up… it was humiliating. Not only that, you practically threw yourself into his lap and shoved your tongue down his throat.

You closed your eyes tightly as you held back the urge to sneak out of bed and run to the nearest airport. Maybe you could vacation to America for a bit, you spoke a decent amount of English, you could get by. Just long enough for Wonwoo to forget how desperate you had behaved last night—

I will never recover from this…

Next came the anger at yourself for drinking that much in the first place, what did you think was going to happen?? You were freshly single, drinking an absurd amount of alcohol around the guy you’d been fantasizing about since you MET him. You could barely control your hormones when you were sober, nevermind when you’re completely wasted.

Yeah, big genius you were.

Not only that, the two of you are roommates. What if things got awkward now? What if you had to avoid each other, what if he’s grossed out—

Wait.

…

He wasn’t grossed out.

In fact, if you remembered correctly, he had muttered absolute filth into your ear about what he wanted to do with you. He’d even been encouraging it as much as you were egging him on, he liked you back. He admitted it himself—

OH MY GOD?!

WONWOO LIKED YOU BACK?!

Your eyes opened once more and your jaw dropped slightly in realization, the soft snores from the man behind you had slowed to a halt and you felt your body tense. His limbs stirred and he lifted his head groggily to check if you were awake.

“Good Morning…” His raspy morning voice caused a tingle to run through your spine, and he didn’t even hesitate to offer a small kiss on your temple before laying back down. Your heart melted, and you slowly moved to pinch yourself slightly just to double check.

It seemed he was hit with a reality check of his own too though, because not long after the kiss you felt his entire body stiffen. He stuttered out, trying to form a sentence but struggling.

“I— uh… are you? O-OH!! Oh I am so sorry—“ 

He cleared his throat and shifted back slightly, enough so that you wouldn't be able to feel his “morning problem” against you. Your face flushed as you found yourself disappointed by its absence.

“I—it’s okay…” you coughed out, voice hoarse and mouth dry from all the alcohol you’d consumed the night prior. “I didn’t really mind…”

Wonwoo hesitated for a beat but never removed his arms from being wrapped around you, which you took as a good sign. You placed your free hand atop his and squeezed, boldly snuggling further back into his arms to let him know you were okay with being held by him. His muscles relaxed, squeezing you tightly in return and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Do you… Remember last night?” Wonwoo mumbled into your skin, goosebumps prickling your arms at the feeling. “You drank so much, I wouldn’t be surprised if you blacked any of it out…”

“… I remember everything.” You confirmed in a small voice, still a bit anxious for some reason. “At least I think I do? I could have definitely just imagined some portions, I’m not too sure what was fantasy and what was reality.”

Wonwoo laughed softly and you had to admit it was a bit embarrassing, knowing that he was practically sober all night while you had drowned your sorrows in soju and were unable to trust your own recollections.

“How about you tell me what you remember and I’ll let you know if it happened or not then?” Wonwoo suggested, and you felt your heart rate quicken at having to say it all aloud again. You knew that at least some of your memories had to be real, judging from the forehead kiss he’d given you and the clinginess he’d been showing, but what if you had completely imagined the steamy parts? It would be even more embarrassing…

You were way too sober to go through this again.

You sucked in a breath and started easy. “I confessed that I used to have a crush on you last night.”

“Wrong.” Your heart stopped briefly. “You confessed that you still have a crush on me last night. Present tense.”

You elbowed his side softly, causing a deep chuckle to escape his chest. “You know what I meant.” Still, a small bit of pressure was slightly lifted off your shoulders at his confirmation. “You told me you have feelings for me too.”

Wonwoo nodded his answer, his head still buried into your neck. You smiled at that, never once thinking that him returning your crush was even a possibility in the past.

“We—“ you paused, treading into dangerous territory. “We kissed… a lot. I got on your lap.”

You felt him clench his fingers around your own slightly. And before he could confirm or deny the claim, you rushed to get the rest out as well.

“You said some things… Some really, really dirty things…”

“I did.” Wonwoo spoke stiffly, probably embarrassed in his own way. You felt a rush of excitement at the confirmation, and a bit of nervousness as his rigid body tensed up behind you.

You both stayed that way, still and quiet for a few minutes, processing everything that had happened and where to continue from there. It was a lot easier and a lot less nerve wracking when you were drunk, but you gathered enough courage to softly press your behind into Wonwoo’s front.

A grunt of surprise escaped his throat and you sucked in your lip, hoping that it wasn’t too late to collect on last night's promises. You pressed back again, this time rolling your hips slightly in encouragement.

“Y-you… you still want…” Wonwoo groaned, his hand instinctively clinging on to your lower waist to pull you closer into him.

“Yes.” You sighed, wiggling slightly as you heard him suck in a sharp breath. “And for fucks sake touch me this time.” 

Wonwoo didn’t need to be told twice, his hand immediately dipped under your sweater, once again exploring your navel, your sternum. An incoherent moan forced its way from your throat when his hand finally cupped your breast, kneading and prodding.

“It fits so perfectly in my hand, doesn’t it?” He gave a soft squeeze, using his index finger to play with your perked nipple. “God what I would give to see them bounce while I pound into you…”

You couldn’t do anything but whine when he moved his mouth to kiss your neck, never once stopping his ministrations on your chest. The feeling of his tongue traveling up to your earlobe then back down to your shoulder was almost enough to make you scream into your pillow, you clung to his bicep desperately as you practically melted into his arms.

You could barely register this was actually happening, hell you would’ve thought you’d been dropped directly into one of your dirty dreams if it weren’t for the fact that his physical presence around you was so strong. His scent, his weight, his voice… God you would have never imagined Wonwoo would be so vocal in bed.

.. Not that you were complaining one bit.

“Speaking of…” He spoke directly into your ear, causing a pool of heat to rise in your lower belly. His hand released your breast, finally exploring lower and dipping beneath your underwear. “Let me see just how fucking wet you get for me baby.”

You were practically panting at this point, and the soft pressure he provided as he prodded your folds almost made you come on the spot. You were getting impatient and he knew it too, proceeding to circle your clit with a deliberate smirk as he moved his hand faster, his eyes observing every detail of your desperate expression.

“Are you gonna look like this when I put my dick in you? God I bet it would just slide right in…” He let out a hollow chuckle as he inserted a single finger, making sure to also put pressure on his palm. You instinctively attempted to grind into it, shivering when he let out a deep groan. “What kind of noises do you make when you come, huh? I wanna hear them all.”

You gasp as his hand picks up its pace and he curls his fingers inward to find the perfect spot. You attempt to ground yourself by gripping the sheets, crying out and pleading for any kind of release from the intense pressure threatening to burst.

“Wonwoo… fuck! Pleaseeee!” You whined out, any leftover teasing in his voice seemed to dissipate at that.

“You’re gonna come on my fingers, then on my face, then on my cock.” He spoke carefully, inserting another digit and causing you to hum out in relief. “Then we’re gonna repeat it, over and over until you’re completely satisfied and your legs can’t even function anymore.”

You were gasping for air, eyes screwed shut as you focused in on the strings in your body tightening enough to snap any godforsaken second. He used his other arm to shift you from your side to your back, his face right above yours as you involuntarily spread your legs even wider to grant him better access. He chuckled darkly.

“You look so fucking good all desperate like this.” He mumbled, slamming his digits into you as he watched your reactions. “Open your eyes. I want you to look at me while I make you come.”

You struggled to focus but eventually your lids fluttered open, finding Wonwoo’s direct eye contact nerve wracking at first but soon realizing how much more intense it made everything feel. His finger curled once more and you arched instinctively, reaching a hand up to grip onto his muscular shoulder as an anchor.

“You like that baby?” He smiled slightly, eyes darkening with every small reaction you let out, you nodded quickly. “When you told me no one’s ever made you come I took that as a challenge, you know?”

You whimpered as he shifted to use his free hand to lift your top, nipples hardening as they made contact with the cold morning air. He took a moment to quietly admire their shape and size, but before you could begin to feel even slightly self conscious Wonwoo had leaned down to take one eagerly into his mouth.

You squeaked in surprise as the pleasure began to overwhelm you, your eyes screwing shut against your will and your mouth forming a giant ‘o’ as Wonwoo flicked his tongue around your breast, nibbling softly all while pressing his palm onto your clit.

“F-fuck!!” You cried out, moving your hand to grip the back of Wonwoo’s hair in encouragement. “Please please pleaseeee!! You’re gonna make me comeee!”

Wonwoo picked up his pace and sucked harder, causing you to scream out as all the sensations combined into a height you’d never even come close to replicating with your own fingers. You tugged Wonwoo’s head back suddenly to pull him off your breast, opting instead to pull him into a sloppy, messy kiss that was all tongue and teeth.

Your breathing staggered and an embarrassingly throaty noise escaped as the pressure finally burst into a feeling of complete euphoria. Your entire body twitched involuntarily and you groaned as Wonwoo pulled away from your lips to watch you ride through the sensation.

His fingers never stopped toying with your clit and his whispers of encouragement kept coming, creating an orgasm that felt more intense than anything you’d ever experienced before.

“That’s it baby, I want you to feel so fucking good, I want you to feel everything.” He muttered softly, not once slowing his fingers' pace. “I’m gonna make it so you feel this good whenever you want. You look so perfect like this, you’re so good for me.”

You whimpered when the stimulation grew too intense, and Wonwoo removed his fingers carefully. He leaned down to kiss you softly, sweetly and your heart fluttered at how gently he placed his hand on the back of your neck to pull you into it.

“Did you feel good?” He asked, pulling back to observe your face, scanning for any sign of regret or hesitation. “Was that okay for you?”

You breathed deeply, body limp with barely any energy remaining but you managed to nod enthusiastically. He chuckled and you immediately leaned in to kiss him once more.

“God, yes.” You murmured into his lips, using both your hands to pull him in deeper. “I could’ve probably come just from you speaking to me like that.”

He laughed heartily into the kiss and your chest warmed as he held you close, as if afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You bit his bottom lip and prodded his mouth open, meeting each other's tongue once more. 

A needy whine escaped your throat when his mouth's pace remained steady against your own,  you decided that he was way too calm for how hard he had just made you cum. He finally let out a deep growl when you gripped the back of his hair tightly and you felt the corners of your lips quirk up into a satisfied smirk.

“I want you to feel good too…” you muttered in an attempt to be sultry, moving your hands down his body to graze his hard length. He groaned loudly, pulling you in tightly as you ushered him on to his back, moving to straddle him.

“I thought I told you.” He grinned and pulled back from the kiss, using his own hand to stop yours from unbuttoning his pants. “This is for you. You already came on my fingers, now I want to taste you.”

You tensed at the idea of Wonwoo putting his mouth on you, a spark of both excitement and nervousness flooding the pit of your stomach in a dangerous mixture. The instant pooling of moisture between your legs was your body’s own indication that it had no qualms with his suggestion, but Wonwoo could sense your hesitation almost immediately and sat up to look at you.

“I hope you know I would never do anything you’re uncomfortable with though, are you okay?” His concerned expression softened your resolve almost immediately, and you nodded your head.

“I’m okay, it’s just… No one’s actually ever done something like that to me, down there…” Your face reddened slightly and Wonwoo’s eyes widened in pure shock. “I'm just worried it might, you know, smell or taste weird or something.”

“So it’s not just that Si-woo was bad at sex, but he never even tried something as simple as that either?” Wonwoo questioned in disbelief, you nodded with an embarrassed chuckle. “… Two years together, and the guy never even thought about eating you out?”

You felt your neck beginning to flush at his reaction. “I asked him if we could try once or twice, but he was kinda grossed out by it. I just gave up on the idea after a while.”

Wonwoo’s jaw went slack in a mixture of horror and incredulity, and you couldn’t help a stray giggle from escaping as he didn’t even hesitate to flip the two of you around. Your back was once again flat against the mattress, and you bit your lip in anticipation as he wasted no time in pulling your sweats down.

“I’ve wanted to do this for three fucking years…” He muttered, his tone giving your arm goosebumps at how deep and serious his voice was. “The amount of times I’ve thought about how you might taste… And that fucker couldn’t even be bothered to— You know what, I’m not going to bring him up right now.”

Wonwoo leaned down to take your mouth in his for a desperate kiss, his tongue circling yours and tingling deeply as if cherishing the closeness and intimacy. He pulled away slowly, trailing his tongue down your cheek to your neck and up to your ear while nipping at your most sensitive spots.

“Right now, all I want is for you to think about how good I’m making you feel,” he whispered, you let out a pathetic whimper as he traced the outline of your soaked panties with his fingertips. “I want you to scream out my name while I fuck you with my tongue.”

He leaned back and pulled up your sweater, taking a moment to blatantly admire your chest once again before diving in to take your left breast into his mouth, his hand palming the other. You squeaked at the sudden stimulation, arching into his wandering tongue as he proceeded to lick lower, and lower.

His kisses peppered along the top of your underwear and you tensed, he looked up at you reassuringly and brushed his lips softly along your inner thighs, squeezing and licking. You held your breath in anticipation but noticed his kisses had softened as if to soothe your very obvious nerves. You held his gaze as he nuzzled his cheek into your thigh, he was very obviously waiting for your approval to proceed any further and all it did was turn you on even more.

“Please…” You whispered, nerves on edge and the heat in your stomach only growing hotter. You wanted him to rip your underwear off already, to finally feel what someone’s mouth would feel like down there. His warm breath grazing against your heat was already exciting you even more, and you held your breath as a teasing grin bloomed on his face.

What you weren’t expecting was Wonwoo to lick you directly over your panties, right where your lips were. Your eyes widened and a guttural groan left your throat without meaning to. The feeling sent an electric shock shooting straight down your spine, and you braced yourself as he teased you, pressing his hot mouth and wet tongue against the already soaked barrier of your underwear.

“Oh… oh my god…” you gasped, shocked that simply feeling his mouth kissing you down there could elicit such a strong reaction from your body. Your mouth was stuck open in silent screams as he finally pushed your underwear to the side and began devouring you without restraint.

You barely even recognized the noises you made as your own, mind going completely blank as your muscles tensed at the vibrations of Wonwoo humming into your pussy. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself, lapping up from top to bottom, swirling his tongue and licking up every single crevice like he was a man starved. 

It was an experience you’d never felt anything like before, your skin and blood on fire from the heat his mouth emanated. Every lick stoked a flame that burned hotter and hotter until you were practically chanting his fucking name over and over again.

“Fuckkk, Wonwoooo!!” You cried as his pace slowed down, his desperate slurps turning into long, slow licks right down your slit. The tip of his tongue circled the nub atop your sensitive folds and you were groaning at how you could feel him smirking into your cunt.

“Hmmm.. I love when you say my name~” He mumbled darkly as he continued to flatten his tongue over your folds, chuckling as you blindly reached for the back of his hair to steady yourself. “When you come I want you to scream it out for me, okay baby?”

You nodded exasperatedly, eyes practically rolling into the back of your head when Wonwoo decided to insert a single digit. You cried out as you felt your walls clench around it, the feeling of something filling you almost enough to send you over the edge. His pace quickened, and you swear stars blinded your vision once his tongue began to flick your clit in time with his finger.

If your brain wasn’t currently MIA you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he was about to make you come again.

“Pleaseeee, Wonu!“ you opened your eyes to look down and realized he’d been observing you the entire time. You arched helplessly and released a strained moan. “Please I’m so fucking closeeee!”

His speed picked up slightly at your desperate tone, but it was him inserting a second digit along with his tongue lingering a little too long over your clit that sent you finally careening over the edge.

And fuck did you feel weightless.

Your entire body shuddered, your eyes scrunching shut as you felt your orgasm plummet you off a cliff and free falling into the air. Waves of unbridled pleasure crashed through you as Wonwoo continued his ministrations the entire way through it, and you heard in the far distance the sound of your own voice screaming his name out deliriously.

Your eyes opened to a blurry ceiling, your head and body still reeling from the aftermath of bliss you’d just experienced. Wonwoo remained between your legs, peppering soft kisses against your thighs and you couldn’t help the actual audacity this man had to be so talented with his tongue.

“Come up here before I ask you to do that all over again.” You pant out, completely spent and only half serious. Wonwoo smiled giddily and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“You might need to pry me away… Because fuck if I could eat this every day—”

You tugged on his shoulder insistently with an exhausted giggle, and he reluctantly came up to your side to wrap his arms around you. You burrowed your face into his chest with a content sigh, smiling to yourself as you timed your breaths to the sound of his heartbeat.

“Good?” He questioned as if he didn’t already know the answer, you scoffed but nodded anyway.

“Phenomenal, outstanding, unparalleled!“

“Same goes for how you taste~” Wonwoo grinned. “Delicious, exquisite, absolutely delectable—“

“Next time I want to taste you too~” You teased, tracing the outline of his muscles, watching them tense up as you neared his nipple. You looked up as his expression suddenly strained, and you mentally smacked yourself as you noticed his obscene hardness poking into your side.

“Please don’t worry about it.” He shrugged casually, snuggling you further into his chest with a happy cat-like grin. “Close your eyes, let’s enjoy the rest of the morning and sleep in.”

You frowned, you knew he was trying to allow you ample time to rest and recover. Two orgasms back to back was practically unheard of when it came to your sex life after all, and your body was definitely not used to it. But three years of sexual tension was a long time to wait, and you were not about to blue ball him after everything he just did for you.

“I thought you said you were gonna make me come three times?” You questioned boldly, reciting his words from earlier this morning. Your hands trailed down to the top of his sweats and you noticed his jaw clench. “First on your fingers, then your face, then your cock—“

His mouth was back on yours instantly, his fervent kisses already winding you up and sparking a dim heat in your belly once more. You knew it wasn’t likely for you to finish again, but you also knew your body was aching to feel Wonwoo inside you. It was a carnal desire that went past pleasure, you just needed him as connected to you as physically possible.

“We don’t have to, we can just relax if you want instead.” Wonwoo mumbled out as he pulled away from your lips. His eyes were dark and heavy but there was still enough clarity in them to show he was still able to control himself. “I know you’re tired, if this is just for me I don’t want you to feel obligated—“

“I want you.” You interrupt, watching his molten eyes dilate and most of the clarity disappear all too quickly. Your hand reached lower, gripping the hardness of his length through his pants and he inhaled a sharp breath. “I need you inside me. I’ve never needed anything more—“

It was the last confirmation he needed to hear before attacking your lips again, crawling above you while sliding his sweats off easily. You grinned into the kiss and let out a gasp as he prodded your entrance with his finger, swirling your clit with his thumb.

A mewl escaped you as your sensitive bud was played with gently, you released his mouth and he immediately dipped down to flick your nipple with his tongue playfully. He kissed and sucked at your breast until you were careening into him once more, a faint rush of heat pulsing in your core as he slid his finger inside.

“It’s so soft in here.” Wonwoo breathed out, his patience very obviously wearing thin. You shivered at the sound of his voice, knowing that he definitely felt the swell of wetness that came just from hearing him talk. “Are you gonna let me fuck you nice and good, baby?

You cried out at the overbearing stimulation combined with his words, moving your hips in time with his fingers thrusting inside you. He entered another digit and you immediately knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

“Put it in. Fuck!” You groaned as he put a bit more pressure on your still recovering clit. You felt him shuffle with his underwear, kicking it off somewhere that you couldn’t be bothered to think about at this moment. “Put it in me right now. Fuck a condom, I’m on birth control.”

Wonwoo stuttered in his motions and let out a shaky exhale, muttering curses under his breath as he tried to keep his composure at the new information. You needed him raw, you needed to feel every inch of him pounding into you and you needed it immediately.

You relaxed your body when you felt him lining himself up to your entrance, and you both moaned cohesively as he rubbed his tip along your folds to moisten it up. He pushed in softly, slowly, carefully as you felt yourself fill up inch by inch.

He was big. Not too girthy but exquisitely long, and the further he entered you the more you were shocked at how easily your body allowed him to slide right in. You could feel the veins pulsing alongside his length and your walls clamping down around him, effectively keeping him locked in place. The two of you breathed out deeply as he finally bottomed out, and you’d never felt more full in your entire life.

“Oh… fuck! Oh my god…” Wonwoo gasped shakily, his hand gripping your waist so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if it was bruised in the morning. You groaned as you clung to his shoulders, itching for him to move already. “You’re so fucking tight… I can feel everything…”

“Wonwoo please…” you all but begged, he took one more deep breath and proceeded to thrust downward, resulting in an obscene moan from the both of you. “Please! Fuck meeee!”

Any semblance of self control remaining in Wonwoo seemed to have snapped at that, as he proceeded to drill you into the mattress furiously until you let out the most animalistic groan either of you had ever heard. It did nothing to quell the fervor in which he rammed into you, if anything causing his passion to escalate tenfold.

“Oh yeah? You fucking like that?” He grunted out, the slapping noises of your bodies meeting making you feel lightheaded. “You like when I fuck you like this? Raw and hard?”

You whined out and nodded exasperatedly, gasping as he paused to lift your legs over his shoulders, grabbing you by the waist to lift and pull your body up into his. A strangled cry escaped at the new angle, his length deliciously hitting you right in the sweet spot as he plunged himself into you full force once again. 

“Tell me you fucking want it.” He panted out, a light sheen of sweat forming on his chest and his eyes locked in on where your bodies were connecting, in and out, in and out. “Tell me you want me to fuck you like this over and over again.”

You screamed as he brought his hand down to play with your clit once more, and you found yourself absolutely overwhelmed by the fact that you were yet again on the brink of orgasming for the third time this morning. 

“Pleaseeee Wonwoo, I want you to fuck meeee!” You begged out, your words pitching up with every thrust he gave. His free hand reached down to play with your breast, your other one bouncing liberally as he proceeded to pound into you.

“You look so fucking hot like this…” He muttered, practically to himself which only fueled the ever growing knot in your stomach. “F-fuck!! I’m gonna—“

“Cum in me, pleaseeee fucking fill me up—“ You cried out, and it was the last thing both of you needed to hear before finally climaxing together.

If your last orgasm was like a free fall, this one was like being hit with a freight train. Wonwoo’s thumb on your clit combined with his last full force thrust shoved you over the edge so hard and fast you swear you stopped breathing for a moment. The added feeling of him filling you up simultaneously was so intoxicating that you swore from then on that you would always let him come inside.

Wonwoo collapsed atop you, panting heavily into your shoulder as you stroked his back, equally as breathless. The aftermath of your body spasms calmed down after a few minutes, your simultaneous heaving settling down into long, deep breaths.

Taking a second to gather some energy, you couldn’t help but wince as Wonwoo pulled himself out slowly and slumped to your side. You nuzzled up to him, throwing your weak limbs around his body and practically melting into the mattress. You heard him exhale loudly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Wonwoo murmured tenderly, obviously still dazed and reeling. You let out an airy laugh. 

“And now we have all the time in the world.” A cheesy grin grew on his face at your words as he squeezed you tightly, and you’d never felt more comfortable and safe than you felt in his arms at that moment.

“You’re right.” He smiled, gently stroking the back of your head. He ran his fingers through your hair sweetly, kissing your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut and his last words echoed in the distance. 

“And I’m never letting another second with you go to waste.”

[princesssmars]

better leave your man at home!

mini stories of vi, sevika, abby, and ellie showing you your true worth.

wc : 7.306

contains : sfw and nsfw. fxf. fem!reader. cheating on the men's part until ellie's part lol. ellie’s is a modern!au the rest are in canon. mentions of violence and alcohol. silco but he's chill. owen but he's not chill. reader can be interpreted as bi or comphet i think!

a/n : ladies if you're reading this...cheat on him. or cheat back. yknow what just leave him.

VIOLET ꨄ

ʚɞ ever since getting out of prison and restarting her life, vi had been looking for a new purpose.

ʚɞ she had found a solid job, managed to reconnect with wither last siblings left alive, and started to build up a life for herself, but still, she felt...aimless. she longed for a deeper connection than the ones she had, someone she could yet again.

ʚɞ and then she meets you, a sweet little store owner with a voice that sounds like a symphony and an attitude as sweet as cookies. the first time she even met you she bumped into you on the street outside your bakery, knocking you supplies for your treats all over the ground. she's expecting that usual zaunite 'watch where you're going!' but instead you tell her not to worry, that you were carrying too many things anyway.

ʚɞ it was almost instinct for her to assure you she was at fault, downright demanding she help you carry everything that dropped inside and that it was the least she could do. you call her a sweetheart and tell her if she does you'll send her home with a plate of her favorite dessert. how could she say no?

ʚɞ she cant help but to quickly hang out with you whenever she can. after her shifts she stops by to help you close up, telling you its the least she could do for someone who was oh-so sweet. you seem to welcome her affections, whispering one late night when making some extra batter that you always appreciate when she stops by. she goes home on a high that night.

ʚɞ but then the worst thing ever happens. you get a boyfriend.

ʚɞ apparently he's some old family friend who moved back to the city when he found a small fortune overseas and was ready to come back to 'win you over like he tried years ago'. you told the story with a slightly wistful voice but all vi could do was nod along with wide eyes and a shut mouth.

ʚɞ eventually, she meets the guy, a tall and rather weasly looking guy who was waiting impatiently outside the store. she gave him a simple greeting and all he could do was tilt his head in recognition that she was there, apparently. she passed him and went to the back of the store and asked you what he was doing standing outside looking all suspicious. her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when you told her he was waiting to take you out but had to stand outside because he couldn't stand the smell of bread.

ʚɞ yeah, this definitely wasn't gonna last long. she’d just have to get you to see that.

ʚɞ sadly, she didn't have to do much work. ton a sunny day when the two of you were walking through the upper city levels together you stopped in your tracks, a talking vi whose arm was wrapped with yours questioning what made you stop before following your eyesight to see your boyfriend in the arms of another woman, way too close for comfort. vi wanted nothing more in that moment than to go and knock the bastard's lights out, but she had to prioritize you first.

ʚɞ you go into a depression for a week, your shop closed and your apartment locked as you skulk and cry in your home. but thankfully you gave vi a key not too long into your friendship, and she wakes you up one afternoon and demands you go and clean yourself up while she takes care of your chores.

ʚɞ you come out of the shower feeling rejuvenated and refreshed, your mood only lifting higher at the smell of cookies in the air. you pad out to the kitchen and cant help but smile when you see vi standing with a tray of perfectly made chocolate chip cookies on the island counter.

ʚɞ you sit up on your counter and moan at the taste of the cookies, vi accepting your praise of her baking skills with pride as she rubs over your bare thighs. eventually the topic steers to your recent heartbreak and vi makes sure you can complain and vent to her all you want.

ʚɞ but the last thing she wants to hear is you blaming yourself, teary-eyed and mumbling about how maybe you were too overbearing in your affections. she gently but sternly brings your attention to her, making sure you look her in the eyes when she goes on about how you’re the nicest and most soft-natured person she’s ever known and he was a fool to not see what an amazing woman he had in front of him.

ʚɞ and you cant help but feel even worse at the clear effect her affection has on you, unconsciously biting her lip at her praise and closeness. her eyes dart down to your lips and back to your eyes, slowly inching her head forward for permission. as soon as you slightly nod your head she’s kissing you with months of pent-up adoration, warmth, and lust.

ʚɞ a small part of you feels guilty for moving on to your close friend only a week after you broke up with your boyfriend, but when her fingers are drifting down to your cunt and making you cry as you cum over and over again, you can't find it in you to care.

ʚɞ “he was an idiot to give up on someone as sweet as you. but down worry muffin, i’m not gonna take that chance.”

SEVIKA ꨄ

ʚɞ sevika had made a promise to herself years ago: don't mess with married women.

ʚɞ she could give herself some grace, she was young and dumb, and the woman was incredibly gorgeous. and when a woman with legs that could bring any person woman or man to their knees comes up to you and asks you your plans for the night, you cant exactly pass up the opportunity. though she wishes she did after her partner caught them together in bed and she got in one of the worst fights of her life.

ʚɞ but she had to admit things in her life were getting a bit…stale, to say the least. her schedule was a steady routine of doing tasks for silco, reeling in jinx, and keeping the last drop working like a well-oiled machine. she didn't want anything drastic that would screw up their plans to happen, just…something.

ʚɞ and oh, does she get it. some out of towner got too rowdy in the bar and started a bar fight and before she could come in and get things under control theirams leg gets broken. so now she’s tasked with finding a good enough replacement to cover him for the few months it gets healed since he for some reason couldn't just take a shimmer dose and get back on his feet in no time.

ʚɞ she goes through dozens of recruits, all either too disobedient or downright atrocious behind a bar. she’s just about to give up and force one of the goons to do it when you come through the door. you’re rather unassuming, and at first she things you’re joking until you travel behind the bar and instruct her to give you any drink and you can make it. after ten different drinks she’s more than convinced.

ʚɞ she doesn't talk to you much at first, you’re just another cog in the machine that keeps the enterprise running smoothly. obviously she’s noticed that you’re attractive, surrounded by a stern but easy-going aura that makes most customers sit and want to talk to you for hours on end. it amused her when she watched how you convinced three different patrons to buy some more drinks so you’d continue telling them a wild story of some adventure you apparently had in bilgewater years back.

ʚɞ she can't help but ask you if its true later when the bar is closing and you’re wiping everything down, rolling her eyes when you call her out for listening to your conversations. you reveal that all your stories of adventure and excitement are true, but that you gave that life up when you decided to settle down after you get married.

ʚɞ she scoffs that the woman you married must be a hell of a catch to get you to leave behind such an exciting life, and she sees your eyes drop when you reveal that life with your husband is a nice and quiet alternative to your days of danger. sevika’s always had a good poker face, and she’s really glad she has it now after hearing you gave up all of that for a guy. and that her gaydar was apparently wrong, which never happens.

ʚɞ but its almost like this is the challenge her mind has been looking for, because after that conversation she keeps having late-night talks with you when no one else is around. you’re disarmingly easy to talk to, able to show a compassion and understanding that isn’t common for the folks down here. its only a few hours after she gets a bit too tipsy and accidentally lets slip a story about her upbringing that she lays in bed and slaps her human hand to her forehead in frustration when instead of being embarrassed all she can think about is your soft hand gently rubbing her shoulder as she poured her heart out.

ʚɞ she is so screwed.

ʚɞ eventually, you draw silco’s attention. mostly because the profits from the bar have nearly doubled since you started working, partly because he can tell a certain someone is distracting sevika. he gave her a list of tasks one day that he could tell she hated doing and she went off with a nod and without a word, and she either had a new woman in her life or she was about to snap. he made sure to find out about you a few minutes later, and asked/demanded to know more about your life. in particular, any outside connections you had.

ʚɞ sevika doesn't know whether she wants to thank silco or kill him when you’re given a more permanent position at the bar and finally introduce the crew to your husband, a man who silco has apparently given a job in his booking department. when sevika pulls him aside later to ask why he would od something like that, he just. shrugs. silco never just shrugs.

ʚɞ now that you’ve basically part of their little crime family it's even easier for sevika to spend more time with you. unfortunately for you jinx has taken a liking to you, but you handle it well and always make sure to give the girl her favorite drink in her favorite cup whenever she stops in the bar to babble on about some new weapon of mayhem she’s decided to make.

ʚɞ but after a few weeks she notices your mood start to sour, how you start getting snippy with some of the more rowdy drunks who stumble through the bar. she catches you a few hours after closing sat behind the bar with a half drunken bottle in your hand and mascara running down your cheeks. normally if this was anyone else she’d scoff to herself and quickly make her exit but instead she plops herself down next to you and demands you tell her what's wrong. through hiccups and tears, you tell her that you’re pretty sure your husband is lying to you. about a lot. in particular about where he spends his nights and comes back grumbling about ‘unfair bets’ and losing cash.

ʚɞ sevika assures you she’ll get to the bottom of it, and it only takes her a few hours of trailing thee guy to find out the problem. it seems your betrothed has been gambling your money away in seedy gambling circles, with some guys she swore she told to cut it out months ago when it came to rigging their dice when playing with tourists. but the amounts he’s using are definitely more than what either of you are making on a salary.

ʚɞ she tries not to smile when she picks the excuse of a man up by the back of his neck with her mech hand, reveling in the horrified look on his face as he makes up excuse after excuse for why he’s been stealing money from you and the boss, that he swears he’ll make it back up to silco-

ʚɞ you come in the next day as confused as ever, whispering that your husband packed up his things in the middle of the night and disappeared. sevika sits you down and explains that your husband was a thief, stealing hundreds from silco rather sloppily under his nose, and was dealt with in a timely manner. but she assures you that you won't be affected by any debts he may have had, she’ll make sure of it and make sure none of those gamblers come after you.

ʚɞ you only grow closer and closer after that night, and its no surprise you start to catch feelings for the gorgeous woman who constantly makes sure you’re safe and protected. its on one of the bars rather more exciting nights that you relent and play a drinking game with some members of the crew, and in a moment of weakness accidentally admit that since your husband left you haven't been laid in weeks, and in an additional moment of weakness admit that the first person you’d like to rock your world would be none other than silco’s second hand.

ʚɞ it was just your luck that the woman was walking by when the words left your lips, and fueled by her own dose of liquid courage came up behind you and whispered that she was free at that moment.

ʚɞ you expected many things when you settled down in zaun, and getting bent in half for hours on end by the second in command to the rule of the underground was not one of them. but when sevika groans in your ear and moans about how you have the tightest pussy she’s ever had the pleasure of taking, you’re really glad it happened to you.

ʚɞ “god, i’m really not gonna be able to stay away from you now. promise that the next time you get married you’re not gonna have to worry about being disappointed ever again.”

ʚɞ (when sevika walks in the next morning with a rare smile on her face silco does admit that he hired your husband knowing he’d be an idiot that she’d have to get rid of. you’re welcome.)

ABBY ꨄ

ʚɞ abby never saw herself as a jealous person. she’d only been in one relationship before, and even though it ended rather sourly she knew it was only natural that they’d both eventually move on. but when she sees you, a new wlf recruit walking and smiling side by side with owen, she feels…weird. really weird.

ʚɞ she does feel bad that as soon as he introduces you all to the group at a small party thrown by some of the soldiers all she can manage is tight-lipped smile and a small wave. you visibly deflate and smile it off, immediately pulled away by nora and leah to grab some drinks. manny butts her shoulder with his, giving her that ‘what the hell?’ look he loves to do. she defensively apologizes, because how should she react? her ex-boyfriend clearly has a thing for you, is she supposed to be all buddy buddy with you?

ʚɞ it doesn't help that its clear to everyone that you’re pretty. like, weirdly pretty for someone in the middle of an apocalyptic setting. crystal clear skin, smooth lips, and eyes of a beautiful shade. she caught herself staring once in the gym as you laughed with one of the trainers and had to quickly get herself together.

ʚɞ isaac must be playing a sick game because you then get assigned to go with her on patrol. she initially resented, questioning why you were tagging along when you mostly worked with the medics and mel was already trailing along. he said that apparently you had asked for the chance to get some more field practice and left it at that, dismissing her with a wave.

ʚɞ she was quiet for most of the ride to the patrol spot, hands tight on the steering wheel as you sat in the back of the truck with the others in the group and laughed at some story one the guys was talking about.

ʚɞ god, even your laugh is cute, she thinks as she carefully maneuvers the truck around a downed tree. youre like if a dream girl was placed down in this wasteland to torture her, a giant sign to tell her of course owen went after you, you were perfect. more perfect than she could be.

ʚɞ it isnt helpful that shes left partnered with you as you clear out the abandoned store in the strip mall they've all been sent to check and re-clear the spaces if necessary. she finds herself frustrated when you very reasonably and very smartly stick to her side the whole time. she swears she almost trips over an overgrown branch when she catches a whiff of your soap and she doesnt know where the hell you managed to snag vanilla flavored anything.

ʚɞ everything is fine for a while. you both remain vigilant as you walk through the barely lit aisles of the department store, the only action when a clicker jumps up out of nowhere and nearly tackled you before she’s roughly pushing you out of the way and kicking out its knees before bashing in its head with her boot. she’s panting and catching her breath before roughly asking if you were alright and reminding you to stay vigilant, taking your wide eyed stare for shock at a close encounter to what would be a rather painful death.

ʚɞ but despite her rather abrasive attitude you try your best to be friendly with her. you reveal that owen did confide about their past relationship, and as awkward as the situation sometimes was you wouldn’t let it drive a wedge between you, that you in fact wanted to be friends with abby. you had heard a great many things about her, how she was a loyal friend, a courageous leader, clearly an incredibly strong soldier-

ʚɞ her brain. short circuits a bit. the way you called her strong, like it was fact that was so obvious that she’d already proven it to you just by being out here. sure she’d pushed you of out the trajectory of that clicker but that was normal, anyone should and would do the same. she realizes you wouldn’t get the chance to see any displays of strength like that back in the base save for the visits to the gym, and a foreign voice in her head laments what a shame that is.

ʚɞ she doesn’t realize until a day later just how screwed she is.

ʚɞ whatever weird…feelings she has for you don’t even get a chance to go away or settle, just fester and multiply with your constant presence. where abby is her friends are close by, and that now includes you. at small get togethers, shared gym workouts, breakfast lunch and dinner hangouts, you’re always there with a bright smile and a warm greeting for her. she thinks she’s hiding whatever it is she’s hiding pretty well until nora pulls her to the side and asks why she just keeps staring at you whenever you’re around, that she understand there might be some lingering feelings of jealousy and resentment towards owen but that’s no reason to treat you rudely.

ʚɞ abby stumbles over her words, insisting that she’s not treating you rudely, that’s the last thing she would want to do. who would ever do that to someone as nice and sweet and gorgeous as you? she ends her mini explanation with a stiff chuckle and looks at nora who’s now staring at her with an open mouth and a flabbergasted look on her face.

ʚɞ so it’s clear that abby likes you. she doesn’t know how to grapple with the fact, and decides its best to just deal with it privately and wait for it to just pass as most things do. the only person who knows is nora, who after not talking to her for a few hours after their last encounter came back to abby’s room to apologize for walking out on her in a moment where they so clearly needed to talk more about what was just revealed. she assures abby that she’ll help her through this but it’s very confusing to herself as well. it’s not every day you have to deal with your best friend falling in love with her boyfriends new girlfriend.

ʚɞ she doesn’t agree with abby’s method, frequently telling her that dealing with this in private will only have the opposite effect. and just like normally she’s right, abby’s increased attempt at distance from you only peaks your worry and drives you to constantly check in on her to make sure she’s okay. one day you come by her room after one of your workouts, and the sight of you covered in a thin sheen of sweat in shorts and a tank asking her sweetly if she’s feeling okay and if she’d like to join you for lunch let’s her know for sure that she really can’t do this for much longer.

ʚɞ so she’s tries her best to try a different approach : exposure therapy. as bad as it sounds, she’s sure once she starts spending more time with you she’ll realize you aren’t some mythical girl of of her dreams and are just a normal person who’s dating her ex and who she can totally just be normal friends with. she comes up to you in the halls a few days later and asks if you’d like her to help you train for more field work and you beam up at her before wrapping your arms around her neck and thanking her a multitude of times before composing yourself. you go one about how you were so eager to prove yourself and you’d do no better than to have the abby anderson teaching you the basics. she zoned out as soon as she felt your skin against the back of her neck, nodding along to all of your words with a doe-eyed blank look.

ʚɞ it’s really nice bonding with you over the course of a few short weeks. you quickly pick up on the things she teaches you, and whatever you don’t she’s more than eager to help you learn. she hates to admit it but her conscious cheered a little bit when you told her you needed help aiming one of the bigger rifles, and it nearly screamed when she got to place herself behind you and helped you aim at the target practice. maybe she’s a bit delusional at this point but she swears she felt your body relax into hers, felt your breath stutter just a bit when her chest met your back.

ʚɞ and she knows it’s serious when she trusts you enough to share her space in the library. it’s a night when manny has a girl over so she’s in her usual cozy spot surrounded by the book shelves when she shears your gentle footsteps and call of her name, remarking that you initially went to the room out of loneliness about owen being gone for the night but came here when a breathless and shirtless manny told you her usual sleepover spot. she invites you to settle in with her in her heap of old blankets surrounded by dusty novels, trying her best to remain calm when you lean your head on her shoulders and insisted she keep reading her current book aloud.

ʚɞ she wakes up to the early morning light with her head rested on top of yours, snuggled up to battle the chill of the stadium air and your hand clamped around her arm. when she looks down at your face and wishes she could see you like this every day she realizes that she is really, really screwed.

ʚɞ luckily she doesn’t have to wait long to see you like that again. well, the circumstances are rather horrid. yet another soldier was having small secret party ok one of the larger stadium dorms and you were glued to abby’s side. everyone besides nora was confused but happy that the two of you seemed to be getting along so well, and nora herself kept giving abby looks that were a mixture between pity, worry, and just a bit of ‘you need to just get this off of your chest to anyone else but me’ annoyance.

ʚɞ abby was your designated drink manager, constantly making sure you weren’t too drunk and were drinking enough water to stave off any of the negative effects of the smuggled in alcohol they brought in for the party. you’re both sitting on one of the couches and observing the party when you make an off handed comment about not seeing owen for a while and abby decides to sit you down snuggly on the couch while she goes to look for him to appease your tipsy haze. her search leads her down the hallway, and it’s only when she hears an object drop in a nearby maintenance closet does she find out the truth.

ʚɞ she whips open the door to see owen and mel in a rather…well, let’s just say a really lewd position. in the midst of being disgusted and infuriated she finds a bit of amusement at mousy mel of all people doing a drunken hookup in a dingy closet. owen hurriedly tries to fix himself and his pants, insisting to abby that it’s not what it looks like, and suddenly his eyes lock on an object behind her and she turns around to see you, teary eyed and clearly betrayed before you silently stoop off to the direction of your own room.

ʚɞ abby is normally a calm person. as a soldier she isn’t afforded the luxury to let her emotions get the better of her in moments of stress. but seeing you with tears in your eyes and a wobbly lip makes her wish she broke owen’s nose on the spot. collecting all of her composure, she slaws the closet door in his face and quickly runs after you.

ʚɞ she quickly chases after you, making her way down the stadium halls until she finds your bedroom door agape, quickly knocking and entering when she hears your quiet cry demanding owen leave. she makes sure to announce who she is once she settles in beside you on your bed, gently extending her hands to make sure shes allowed to physically comfort you before pulling you into a tight hug once you let her know it’s okay.

ʚɞ she had again struggles to keep her composure when you cry into her shoulder, not minding the tears staining her t-shirt when she hears you weep about what a fool you wer, how you were such an idiot to believe that someone like him could truly care about you.

ʚɞ in the morning, she can blame the weeks of pent up feelings, or maybe the cup of beer she had an hour before, but she can’t stop herself from grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards her, commanding your attention before she reveals that should’ve warned you about owen earlier, that she should’ve known he would take advantage of someone with as sweet a nature as you. She’s always known he was a fool, but to ruin his chances of someone like you is the dumbest thing he ever could’ve done.

ʚɞ when you sniffle and look up at her with those shiny eyes and puffy lips and ask her if that’s true she feels her composed facade slipping, hands shaky as she reaches up to wipe your tears away before letting her palm letting her fingers trail down your face, biting her lip when she sees your eyelids flutter closer when her hands start to ghost down your neck.

ʚɞ she doesn’t feel sorry when she watches you take off your top, doesn’t feel guilt when she pushes you down to the bed and lets her lips bite and kiss from your neck to her chest and draw out all manners of whines and gasps from your throat. and when she feels your hips lift up and grind into her crotch, when her hands attach themselves to your hips and forces you to bring yourself to an orgasm in your pants, she doesn’t give a shit how it’ll seem when she parades you around the stadium tomorrow.

ʚɞ manny and nora are open mouthed and shocked when you walk hand in hand into the cafeteria the next morning, both starry eyed and covered in love bites as you sit together nearly attached at the hip. when owen walks in a few minutes later and quickly storms out after seeing the two of you, abby can’t help but shrug when manny asked her what the hell is going on.

ʚɞ “owen had his chance, and he should learn that jealously is a monster.”

ELLIE ꨄ

ʚɞ in moments like these ellie remembers laughing at how her fellow lesbians would fall for their straight friends in middle and high school and end up with broken hearts and broken friendships. and now as she sits across from you and listens to you lament about your boyfriend, she realizes that karma is real and she is totally a bitch.

ʚɞ truly, she has no one to blame, but herself the moment she saw you walk into the record store she worked at she knew that this would only lead to trouble for herself. It was obvious to Dina, who lightly pushed his shoulder and told her to stop drooling and to focus on her work and not fall into another relationship so soon after her catastrophic breakup with cat. she had rolled her eyes at the brunette and assured her nothing would happen, that she’d politely introduce herself, help you buy a product, and never think about or see you again.

ʚɞ god, what an idiot she was.

ʚɞ as soon as she introduced herself, you complemented her tattoo, mention that you had wanted one but were too indecisive about a design and placement. before she can even think of what she wants to say she’s telling you that wouldn’t mind hooking you up with her tattoo artist who could help you decide what you wanted. hell, she wouldn’t mind helping you decide what kind of vibe you were going for when it came to the body art and where exactly on your body would be best to showcase it.

ʚɞ you’re beaming up at her and thanking her, telling her that she really is just too kind. she’s even kinder when she continues to talk to you as she helps you look through the store, helping you decide which record would be best for your collection.

ʚɞ and helping you pick out another record as a gift. for your boyfriend. she can hear dina snicker at the counter all the way from three aisles away, passing it off as allergies when you turn to look at her.

ʚɞ but it’s not like she’s gonna fall for you. she gives you her number, but that’s because she already promised she’d help you with the tattoo stuff. and sure she talks with you for hours the following week and even goes with you to the parlor for moral support, but that’s because she’s a good person! and you even told her she’s a great friend for helping you with this! she’s just being friendly.

ʚɞ soon enough she basically becomes your new best friend. she doesn’t know how it happened really, somewhere between helping you when your car broke down in the middle of the road and having dinner with your parents when they demand to meet the person who’s been taking up an extra chunk of their daughters time. it’s frightening how easy it is to just be with you, to talk to you about any and everything. she remembers it took dina pestering her at work for weeks for them to become friends, and here she is laughing with your dad over roasted chicken after a month.

ʚɞ dina and jesse call her delusional. when the former shows the latter a picture of you on the instagram account you have to ellie he folds over in laughter and tells ellie oh so eloquently that she’s definitely going to fall for you, it’s only inevitable. but she remains vigilant that she wouldn’t do something so dumb. i mean yeah you’re basically exactly her type, like a deity went into one of her wet dreams and plucked the woman she manifested and placed you in the real world, but she was strong. there were plenty of fish in the sea. plenty of gay fish, to be exact.

ʚɞ she tries to go on dates, scrolls through tinder and likes every other attractive viable woman she sees. she even manages to have a few hookups. its really just a coincidence that they have some of your similar characteristics, truly. she’s not actually looking for you in any of these girls, that’d just be weird.

ʚɞ but then it happens. she has a girl over, her leg thrown over her shoulder as she grinds herself into the pretty girl’s cunt. she’s lost in a high after the blunt they’d shared earlier and her heads thrown back as she’s letting out expletive after expletive, and then she does it. she moans your name. she pauses, the girl pauses, and its silent as they remove their entangled limbs from each other and rigidly lay in bed side by side. it hurts even worse than the embarrassment when the girl pats her shoulder with a smile after she’s put her clothes back on, wishing her luck with whatever’s goin on between the two of you.

ʚɞ there’s no point in denying it then. she doesn't even get the chance to keep it to herself, the next day when she’s watching a movie on your couch you poke and prod at her until she reveals what’s got her in such a sour mood. she doesn't tell you the full story, of course, just that something absolutely mortifying happened last night when she was riding some girl. she groans that she didn't even get to finish and that was way worse then what she said, hoping the joke will ease some of the embarrassment she has telling the story and the guilt about passively lying to you.

ʚɞ she doesn't notice how you hips shift in your seat, how your teeth bite at the skin of your lip. she does notice when you question what she meant by riding a girl. she cant help but think about how adorable you are before explaining the position in the nicest way possible. you hum and turn your attention back to the movie and she thinks that's the end of the conversation. but only seconds later you’re asking her to show you.

ʚɞ she thinks she's dreaming. no, she knows she's dreaming. its happened before, weird dreams she has after a strong high where she swears her dreams become all the more vivid and lifelike. it was super annoying the second time it happened, she woke up to a world where she in fact did not win the lottery and get to make out with her celebrity crush. but this is just cruel, she didn't know her brain could be so masochistic. but no, the feel of your hand shaking her shoulder and shyly asking if you’ve made her uncomfortable is real, your big eyes flitting to anywhere but hers is real.

ʚɞ she stutters over her words, asking if you really mean it. and you say yeah, you’d been curious about this anyway. it wouldn't hurt to do it with ellie, you were friends, right? and god what an idiot she was because she’s nodding along like of course, this couldn’t make your friendship weird at all, right? so she gets to work, not doing anything too lewd except for gently pushing you to lie on your back as she maneuvers her body over yours, placing her crotch over yours until she can feel the heat of you through her jeans. she tries not to show a reaction to the sight of you looking up at her, curious and flushed as your hand briefly comes up to rest on her hip. its only when your hips delicately press up into hers that she abruptly removes herself from on top of you, stiffly chuckling before recommending you get back to the movie.

ʚɞ neither of you bring it up again.

ʚɞ it’s so much more difficult to be around you now. before she was resolute in the fact that she was alone in whatever weird feelings she had towards you, but eventually she might move on. but with only a few actions you threw that whole viewpoint out the window. now it was clear that you were interested. maybe not in ellie but in sex with another woman. a small part of her is upset at the fact it might not be her. its only cliche that if you started having these feelings you’d fall for your gay best friend, who the hell else were you thinking about? whatever, that wasn't important.

ʚɞ what was important was what occurred over the next few weeks. it happens slowly but surely, your complaints about your intimate troubles with your boyfriend. now ellie had met the guy before, and it made her feel slightly better that she had a valid reason right from the start not to like him. the man was clearly an ass, looking her up and down the first time they met and giving her a ‘yeah you’re weird’ look that he apparently didn’t think she’d recognize. luckily she didn’t have to see him often, only seeing him in passing when she spent time with you at yours or picked you up to go hang out.

ʚɞ but now his weirdness is apparently front and center. she nearly chokes on her chipotle when you tell her that he questioned why the two of you were spending so much time together, feeling like ellie was going to make a move on you.

ʚɞ and yeah, it was offensive. just because she was a lesbian didn’t mean she wanted to jump the bones of every woman she met. unfortunately that didn’t apply here because she very much did want to jump your bones. not like he knew that. hopefully.

ʚɞ but she doesn’t want to get in the way of your relationship, begrudgingly recommending that maybe the two of you should spend some time apart so he can chill out and realize he’s being paranoid. she’s very happy to hear your quick rebuttal, remarking how you’d rather dump him then spend any more time away from her.

ʚɞ god you are making this so confusing. and it only reaches a head the next time she sees you. you’d texted her to ask if she could come over late at night and obviously she said she would, along with a bag of your favorite drinks and snacks just in case you got peckish. so she’s sitting on the couch as you both eat some shareable m&ms when the topic becomes a bit more…intimate.

ʚɞ she notices your rigid shoulders as you sit stark straight on the couch and laughs about how pent up you must be. your following laugh is awkward as you agree that you have been a bit stressed lately. so she tells a joke, that your boyfriend isn’t up to par in bed. she expects you to laugh and hit her shoulder but you nod your head.

ʚɞ you…nod your head. and then you turn to her, and she’s getting flashbacks to the last time you were this close on your couch. her face is hot as whisper that the past few times you’ve tried to sleep with your boyfriend he, as you eloquently put it, ‘just pumps and dumps’, and brushes you off whenever you bring up the fact that you haven’t had a release. that as much as it ashamed you to say it, once he falls asleep next to you you sometimes find your hand trailing under your shorts and thinking back to her stories of the hookups she told you about, wishing she could show you how all of that felt.

ʚɞ ellie has always liked your bedroom. its soft and sweet, with vines of fake ivy hanging across the ceiling and a large canopy hanging over the bed. you even have an adorable collection of stuffed animals, a few of them gifted to you by her throughout the months of your friendship. all of the little guys have been shoved to the floor now, and for a fleeting moment she things they’re really just going to have to understand before her mind is consumed again with you, how you’re pretty flushed face is staring and moaning up at her as her wrist nearly cramps with how fast her fingers are pistoning into your wet cunt.

ʚɞ you haven’t even touched her and she’s already on cloud nine. your confession nearly made her pass out, and she swore she had died and gone to heaven when you asked her to help you with your problem and grabbed her hand to lead her to your bed. it was like her horniest dream come true to see you undress, to feel over your skin, to lower her head to your pussy and try her best to suck out your soul in the most loving way possible.

ʚɞ she feels her boxers get soaked when you cum around her fingers again, legs wrapping around her waist and head raising to muffle your sounds in her shoulder. she swore she nearly came when you bit into her shoulders, already knowing she was going to look into the mirror later to look at the mark your teeth left on her with a smile. but she didn’t predict for you to be so insatiable, for as soon as she pulls her fingers out of your cunt you’re whining and grinding your hips up into hers, whispering little *‘please, el, need more’*s

ʚɞ “don’t worry, baby, i’ll give you whatever you want. swear once i’m done you’re never even gonna think of that stupid boyfriend of yours again.”

[nanaslutt]

gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk

When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader

this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..

contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.

Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.

Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.

Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.

Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.

Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”

His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.

You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.

This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.

Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.

He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.

He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.

Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.

Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?

See? This was a hundred times better than the club.

But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.

When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.

Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.

“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.

“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…

“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.

“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.

“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.

He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.

“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.

“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”

Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.

You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.

Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.

He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.

The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.

Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.

After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.

He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.

You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.

Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.

Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.

One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.

Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.

Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.

He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.

But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.

He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.

Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.

His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.

Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.

“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.

Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.

“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.

Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?

Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.

“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.

“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.

“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.

“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.

“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.

He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.

You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.

It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.

Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.

Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.

He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.

He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.

He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.

“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.

Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.

The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.

You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.

“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.

“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.

“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully. 

“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.

“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.

“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.

“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.

“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”

You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.

Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.

“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.

“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.

“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.

You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.

"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.

Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."

"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.

"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.

"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.

"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.

He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.

Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.

"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.

He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.

The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.

When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.

Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.

You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.

He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.

Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.

He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.

"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.

The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.

You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.

Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.

Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.

"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.

"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.

Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.

"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.

"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.

You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.

Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.

"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.

Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.

Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.

"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.

His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.

"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.

Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.

Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.

Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.

"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.

"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.

You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.

"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.

"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.

"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.

Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.

“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.

“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.

Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.

Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.

He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.

The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.

His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.

Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.

Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.

“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.

“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.

“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.

“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.

Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.

“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.

“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.

“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.

You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.

His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.

Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.

After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.

He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.

As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.

You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.

“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.

You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.

You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.

Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.

“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.

“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.

Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.

You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.

Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.

He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.

“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.

“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.

You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.

“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”

“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.

“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.

“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.

Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.

“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.

“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.

“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.

“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.

You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.

“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.

Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.

“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.

Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.

Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.

“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.

You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.

The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.

“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.

Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.

Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.

His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.

“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.

“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.

“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.

“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.

He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.

You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.

“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.

Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.

[eveomo]

taking whats mine - joel miller x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ synopsis : you head to the bar to blow off some steam after a petty argument with your boyfriend, joel, but you end up flirting with the last person you should've been flirting with.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ warnings/tags : MINORS DNI, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, begging, crying, spanking, jealous sex, angry sex, rough fucking, pet names, praise, degradation, use of sir, use of daddy (once), age gap (reader is 22, joel is 48), fingering, dom!joel, jealous!joel, no outbreak, no use of y/n, alcohol consumption, pussy slapping, public sex

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ contains : older!joel miller x younger!reader, borderline infidelity, public sex, alcohol consumption, large consensual age gap

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ wc : 3.7k

the bar hums with a steady pulse of low conversation and the clinking of glass while neon lights buzz faintly above the bar counter, casting a colourful glow over people nestled into the worn leather booths and high padded stools. a jukebox in the corner crackles with the opening beat of song 2 by blur, blending with the cacophony of voices and laughter while a group of people begin to cheer after the home team scores, TV’s playing the football game. the air smells faintly of spilt beer, fried food, stale smoke, and sweat, causing your nose to wrinkle slightly as you sink down into the plush barstool. 

normally, you’d be pulled tight on your boyfriends lap, his large, muscular arms pinning you against him as he ordered drinks for the both of you, fingers digging into your plush thighs as you bat your eyelashes at him in gratitude, intoxicated by his scent.

this time, however, you are alone. 

joel didn’t typically feed into your petty attitudes, usually preferring to fuck them out of you and calm you down by pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. but after an especially long week at work where there seemed to be a never-ending barrage of issues with the place him and his brothers team were building and far too many 14 hour days, he snapped. you had been begging him to take you out, promising him it would ease some of his tension and stress but he repeatedly declined, telling you he had a headache and would rather stay home and watch football. 

you tried to understand, really you did. but it was safe to say that after a week of barely seeing him, not being able to wrap your legs around his waist and tug on the salt and pepper curls at the base of his neck, that you didn’t really care how he was feeling, just wanting to spend time with him outside of the house and do anything other than watch sports. of course, it was petty, selfish, and immature, but being 22 will do that to you, you supposed. 

you had left the house with a huff and a slam of the front door after joel had told you to “quit bein’ a fuckin’ brat and pissin’  me off. go out if you want to that badly.” with a mean lilt to his voice that made your stomach simmer with an angry burn. that was the meanest he’d ever been to you outside of your sex life. the two of you had been together for no more than two and a half months, still keeping it private and between you and him. your parents hadn’t a clue, and neither did joel’s brother. you hadn’t met him yet, the only thing about him you knew was that his name is tommy and him and joel still fight like teenage boys, a smile tugging at your lips at the thought.

you white-knuckled the steering wheel the entire drive to the bar, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as his words kept repeating in your head. 

so, that’s how you found yourself nursing a lone star, your black mini skirt hugging your hips and ass while your corset top squishes your tits into your torso, accentuating your cleavage deliciously. you make conversation with the bartender as she cleans glasses, mixes drinks, and wipes down the counter, looking around at the patrons trying to find someone worth flirting with. 

under any other circumstances, you would never even consider batting your eyelashes and giggling for any other man but joel, but you simply knew him too well. you knew the way you huffed and slammed the door, leaving in an anger, had left his cock angry and straining against his jeans as his mind reeled, fighting against the urge to follow you to the bar and fuck you right in his truck, setting you straight. regardless, you knew you were getting fucked tonight, but it would be much more fun if you could bring out the possessive side of joel that made him press your thighs to your shoulders while his cock abused your pussy until you couldn’t even think. the thought sent a pang of warmth straight down to your core and you squeeze your thighs together in an attempt for some semblance of relief. 

as if on cue, an older man, maybe in his late 30’s to early 40’s, enters the bar and a mischievous smile makes its way onto your face. you watch with your bottom lip between your teeth as he approaches the bar, settling down in the only available stool; the one right beside you. he glances over at you and you shoot him a smile, pushing your hair off of your shoulder as you take a sip from your glass, leaning forward to lean on your palm.

“now what’s a pretty young thing like you doin’ at a bar like this?” he drawls, green eyes twinkling as he studies your face before dragging his eyes up and down your body. 

bingo.

you hum, trying to decide what to say while tapping your nail against your lip as you support your head on the palm of your hand. “boyfriends bein’ an asshole so i came to blow off some steam,” you settled on telling him a half truth. 

joel was being an asshole, but because you deserved it, and the only steam you were looking to blow off was with joel. 

the man beside you chuckled, pushing a few stray pieces of dirty blonde hair out of his face, the rest tied back. “naughty girl,” he chided, eyes dragging up your body again and settling on your tits before making eye contact again.

something tugged at you, making your stomach churn anxiously. he looks oddly familiar, you realize, but you shake the feeling, comforting yourself with the fact that you and joel had come here many times, and you’d probably just seen this guy around before. 

“somethin’ like that,” you reply with a giggle, pushing yourself to sit back up after finishing the rest of your beer, turning and ordering another one. you reach for your wallet to pay before you see a card being slid across the counter.

“let me take care of it, darlin’.” he winks, a smile spreading across his bearded face as you thank him with a light touch to his bicep. 

the two of you talk for several minutes, his flirting making you giggle as your hair falls in front of your face before you take a drink of the beer he had paid for, wiping away the foam that had appeared on your top lip with your pointer finger before popping it in your mouth, making eye contact with the man beside you. 

he smirks and tucks your hair behind your ear, out of your face and your stomach twists with guilt. his eyes flit down to your lips, and his thumb meets your bottom lip, swiping across it lightly. 

“what i’d give to see you suck somethin’ else off them pretty fingers of yours,” 

okay, now you feel really guilty. 

you had expected joel to come after you sooner, have him walk in and see you simply talking to someone, but this was bordering on actual cheating. you wriggle nervously in your seat eliciting a chuckle from the man beside you, but before you could truly process your guilt, an angry voice came from behind you. 

“get the fuck away from her, tommy.”

your heart drops to your stomach as the realization hits you. no wonder he was so god damn familiar, he was joels fucking brother. the guilt was eating you alive now as you whip around to face joel, his eyes dark and jaw tensed. 

“joel i-“ you start, but he glares at you with a look you’ve never seen before, pointing a finger in your direction.

“dont.” he warns, and you feel a flood of warmth in your core at his words, thighs rubbing together in your seat. joel looks down at your movement and scoffs, jaw tightening so hard you thought he might break his teeth. jesus fucking christ.

“joel, what the fuck? this is the girl you’ve been seein’?” tommys mouth hangs open, looking between the two of you before standing and putting his hands up in defense as joel’s eyes meet his, glaring. 

“we can talk about it later,” he grunts, looking at his brother before gripping your wrist tightly, yanking you off of the stool. “you, however,” he drawls, voice lowering as he pulls you closer to him, “are comin’ with me right the fuck now.” 

you nod silently, mumbling out a quiet “it was nice meeting you,” to tommy, which only serves to make joel grip your wrist harder as he drags you out of the bar. you can feel yourself getting wetter at the thought of what’s in store for you, following joel in a horny trance as he pulls you past his truck.

“wha- where are we-“ you start before joel tugs you around a corner and into a dark alleyway before pressing your back up against the brick wall, thigh quickly finding purchase between your legs as his torso presses against yours. you whine at the pressure on your clothed cunt, trying to grind down onto his thigh only to be stopped by a bruising grip on your hips. 

“you want me that fuckin’ bad? huh?” joel mocks you, his breath hot and heavy as his mouth hovers over yours, sending chills down your spine and causing more slick to collect in your panties. one hand releases your hip as it snakes up and grips your jaw as he moves your head to the left, inspecting your face before repeating the motion, turning your head to the right. a dark look washes over his face, clearly displeased at your lack of a reply.

“answer me when i speak to you.” he spits out angrily, watching as your eyes widen and a low whine escapes your throat causing his cock to twitch in his jeans.

“y-yes.” you manage to pant out, head buzzing at the sensation of his breath on your face, his burning grip on your face and hips, and the pressure burning a hole into your cunt. 

“yes what?” joel grunts, eyes dragging down your body as a string of obscenities leave his mouth, studying the way the slit of your skirt just barely covers the string of your thong wrapping around your hips and the way your tits press together in your tight top. his bruising grip leaves your face and two fingers press onto your clothed clit, making you writhe against his touch.

“yes sir,” you moan out, brain and body overwhelmed as a groan leaves his lips as he realizes just how wet you are for him, panties thoroughly soaked through, leaving a wet spot on his thigh where he had pressed against you. you whine at his reaction and his eyes flit back up to yours as he quickly flips you around, hands now bracing yourself against the wall as he presses his thick bulge against your ass. 

“think i ‘oughta remind you who you belong to,” joel hurriedly pulls your mini skirt up, letting it sit on your waist as he lets out a low whistle, eyes settling on the black g-string that sat between your asscheeks, a pretty gold heart holding the strings together at the top. 

“what? you jealous that your brother wants to fuck me just as much as you do-” a hand comes down on your right ass cheek with burning strength as you yelp out, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at the mixture of pain and pleasure. “you put these on for me? or are they for whichever guy your greedy self set your eyes on first?” his hand comes down on your ass again, ignoring your snide comment and you push your hips back into him, grinding against his bulge.

“a-ah- i swear joel! i swear i didn’t know he was your broth-“ you stammer before receiving another three smacks on your ass with no soothing rubs to follow, leaving you to stew there with an unbearable burn, sure to turn into welts come the morning.

“dont.” he reaffirms with another smack to your ass before ripping your thong from your body as you cry out.

“joel,” you whine, fingers digging into the brick wall in front of you as your forehead rests against the wet rock. “i really liked that pair…” you mumble as he scoffs at you, fingers tracing delicate lines through your wet, swollen folds. 

“p-please baby i-“ you’re interrupted by another smack to your ass and you moan as you feel more slick pour from your needing cunt, dripping down your thighs. 

“you lost any control you thought you mighta had when you decided to suck on your finger and eye fuck my brother right in fronta’ me, sweetheart.” joel growls into your ear, pressing his body right up against yours as his hair raked itself through your hair, yanking your head back by his makeshift ponytail. 

“joel please, i swear i didn’t know!” you beg, your voice coming out as a breathy whine as your hips grind desperately against him, hoping to find any sort of friction to release the tension coiling in your stomach. 

“ohh it ain’t about knowin’ baby girl,” his fingers make their way back to your soaking cunt, sliding through your folds with ease before rubbing tight circles against your clit, finally giving you what you were craving. 

“you fucked up real good.” joel continues, fingers dragging back up before plunging deep inside of your tight pussy, pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace as your back arches, slapping one of your hands over your mouth in an attempt to silence the broken moan being ripped from your throat. 

“don’t go all quiet on me now darlin’,” he teases, his free arm reaching around to pull your wrist behind your back. “want everyone to know just who you belong to.” joel finishes, his fingers curling up inside you and finding that spot that has you dripping all over his hand, another loud moan being ripped from your throat.

he continues his ministrations, his thumb beginning to rub small circles onto your clit as he adds a third finger into your cunt, your head spinning as your pussy stretches to accommodate his large digits. joels mouth meets your neck, trailing wet kisses down to the crook of your neck where he sucks down hard on your skin.

“o-oh! joel-“ you can feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter, burning hotter, his fingers repeatedly stroke your g-spot, pulling a groan from his mouth as he feels your pussy clenching and fluttering around his fingers. he knows that you’re close, the way your legs are shaking and his name is leaving your lips like a prayer, pulling you closer to the edge. 

“b-baby please, please ‘m so close… wanna come for you baby please,” you can feel it about to crash over you, threatening to make your knees buckle underneath you, stealing your vision. instead of your vision, joel steals your release, ripping his hand away from your dripping cunt as he plants another hard smack on your ass cheek.

“bad girls don’t get to come, baby.” he teases, watching as you cry out and writhe against his body. fat tears start to fall down your cheeks at your desperation and loss of release and joel tuts, his hands finally soothing the red of your ass. 

“think ya needa be fucked till you remember whose you are, ain’t that right?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly with a hint of the same desperation you’re feeling. you nod fervently before receiving a hard slap to your cunt and you cry out, a sob coming from your mouth.

“y-yes! that’s right sir!” you correct yourself, sighing in relief as you hear the familiar jingle of his belt buckle and the zipper of his jeans, wiggling your ass for him while you try to sneakily touch yourself. 

“mm-mm.” he stops you, gripping both of your wrists behind your back as you whine in disappointment.

“dunno why ya think you’re gonna be gettin’ anything ya want after the stunt ya just pulled.” joel grunted, releasing his thick cock from its confines as he tugs his pants down with one hand. a moan escapes your throat as you feel it smack against your ass, warm and heavy. you press your hips backwards, trying to will him into fucking you. 

“ya want my cock baby?” he drawls, lazily dragging his tip through your drooling folds, making you shudder and inhale sharply.

“yes sir,” he hums contentedly and presses forward the smallest bit before stopping, making you whine.

“apologize.” he states flatly, cock unmoving as his hands release your wrists and grip your hips instead, forcing you to stay in place. 

“‘m real sorry baby, please fuck me, i promise i learned my lesson,” you begged, attempting to push your hips backwards despite your clear inability to do so.

“you’re gonna have to try harder than that if you want my cock inside ya, darlin’.” he drawls, going back to rubbing his tip through your folds, making you cry out in desperation as your head starts to spin.

“p-please ‘m so sorry daddy, it’ll never happen again i promise, please jus’ fuck me- i need- i need you joel,” you pant out, crying again as he laughs meanly behind you. “im sor-”

you’re quickly interrupted by him stuffing your cunt with his cock, filling you to the brim in one quick stroke. “atta girl,” he praises, “knew i could get ya to listen to reason.”

you cry out in pleasure as you lose your vision, an orgasm ripping through your body at his words and the feeling of him deep inside of your sopping pussy, body shaking feverishly as he groans behind you.

“thas’ right baby, come all over my cock. show me who you belong to, angel.” he blabbers as he starts to fuck into you, hips slapping against yours as a squelching noise fills the air. joels hands reach down to grab at your ass, kneading the flesh between harsh smacks on your already sore cheeks. 

“f-fuck!” you scream out as he fucks you through your orgasm, sliding his cock in and out of you at a devastating pace. you feel so fucking full, his cock reaching places deep inside you that you hadn’t even known existed until he waltzed into your life. he pulls you close to him, body pressing tightly against his as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“this perfect pussy ‘s all mine… so fucking tight baby, so perfect,” he groans into your ear, biting down on your shoulder as you shudder and gasp, barely able to make a noise with the way his cock pushes deep inside of you with every thrust of his hips. “say it. say ‘s all mine, sweet girl.” 

“mmmm…” you moan as he rocks your body with his thrusts. “its all yours joel, ‘m pussy ‘s yours,” you scream out as he angles his hips higher, pushing the dip in your back further with one of his hands, cock violently punching into your g-spot.

“o-ohh,” you cry out, your wet walls clenching around his fat cock, relishing in the tingling sensation that grows inside of you.

“p-please don’t stop- ah! ‘m so close,” joel loses any control he previously had as he grabs your hips and slams your cunt onto his cock, the only sounds in the alleyway being the slapping of skin, the squelching of your wet pussy, and your loud moans that you’re sure passerby’s can hear.

“yeah?” he grunts, “such a fuckin’ slut for this cock, baby. such a good girl. come on my cock again, sweet thing,” he commands, and you know your body will obey. a burst of tension rolls through your body as he pulls your hips into him desperately like his life depends on it. you scream out again, voice sore and breaking as your second earth-shattering orgasm is ripped through you. 

“fuck,” he groans, “you like makin’ me jealous baby? you like the way i slap that perfect ass of yours and fuck this tight little pussy?” 

“y-yes! y-yes baby oh my god!” you whine out, coming down from your climax only to be greeted with another one quickly approaching. 

“ya think you can come for me one more time baby?” he moans out, slapping your ass as he keeps fucking into you, your body shuddering as you feel the incredible size of him pumping into your cunt. 

you nod your head feverishly and joel seems to be too lost in the feeling of your tight, wet walls to care that you didnt use your words. 

“who else can make you cream on their cock like this, baby?” joel demands, groaning as he feels his own release quickly approaching as your walls flutter around him, your third climax rising up through your body.

“f-fuck, no one joel, no one but you,” you whine, your pussy spent and leaking your fluid as he continues fucking into you, his balls slapping against your clit bringing you even closer to finishing.

“m gonna come baby, right in this pretty little pussy of yours,” he grunts, slapping your ass as tears spill over, again. “c’mon baby give me one more, i know you can. prove to me you wanna be mine,”

joels hand reaches between your legs and he rubs delicious circles into your clit, your huge fucking mistake (being tommy) is now erased from your mind as your insides burst into flames and your hips snap backwards, meeting his thrusts as your cunt spasms around him. he lets out a long, low groan as he spills his release inside of you, fucking you through your third and final orgasm until his hips still, leaving you panting against the wall.

“such a good girl for me,” he purrs, pulling out and landing a final smack on your pussy, making your entire body convulse in overstimulation. you cry out softly and he pulls your body against him, finally holding you against his torso. you whine as you feel his spend leaking out of your pussy, and his fingers are quick to collect it and plug your dripping hole. 

his fingers leave your cunt moments later and you let out a disappointed sigh as he taps your ass lightly, pressing a kiss to your marked up neck.

“now pull that slutty skirt down and get in the fuckin’ truck.”

hoep you guys enjoyed!!! this is my first time writing smut in like 5 years so i hope its good </3 older men have been consuming my head so i wrote this up in a frenzy :P will be crossposted to ao3!

constructive criticism is welcome as always!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Herbal Remedies

References (Capsules & Powders; Compresses & Lotions; Creams; Decoctions; Infused Oils; Infusions; Ointments; Poultices; Syrups; Tinctures; Tonic Wines; Other Preparations)

CAPSULES & POWDERS

Powdered herbs are most easily taken as capsules but can be sprinkled on food or taken with water.

Externally, they can be applied as a dusting powder to the skin or mixed with tinctures as a poultice.

COMPRESSES & LOTIONS

Lotions are water-based herbal preparations such as infusions, decoctions, or diluted tinctures that are used to bathe inflamed or irritated skin.

Compresses are cloths soaked in a lotion and held against the skin.

Both are simple ways to use herbs externally and can be very effective in relieving swelling, bruising, and pain, soothing inflammation and headaches, and cooling fevers.

CREAMS

Making a cream involves combining oil or fat and water in an emulsion. If the process is rushed, the oil and water may separate.

Unlike ointments, creams blend with the skin and have the advantage of being cooling and soothing while at the same time allowing the skin to breathe and sweat naturally.

They can, however, deteriorate quite quickly and are best stored in dark, airtight jars in a refrigerator.

DECOCTIONS

Roots, bark, twigs, and berries usually require a more forceful treatment than leaves or flowers to extract their medicinal constituents. A decoction involves simmering these tougher parts in boiling water.

Fresh or dried plant material may be used and should be cut or broken into small pieces before decocting. Like infusions, decoctions can be taken hot or cold.

INFUSED OILS

Infusing an herb in oil allows its active, fat-soluble ingredients to be extracted; hot infused oils are simmered, while cold infused oils are heated naturally by the sun.

Both types of oil can be used externally as massage oils or added to creams and ointments.

Infused oil should not be confused with essential oil, which is an active constituent naturally present in a plant and has specific medicinal properties and a distinct aroma.

Essential oil may be added to an infused oil to increase its medicinal efficacy

INFUSIONS

An infusion is the simplest way to prepare the more delicate aerial parts of plants, especially leaves and flowers, for use as a medicine or as a revitalizing or relaxing drink.

It is made in a similar way to tea, using either a single herb or a combination of herbs, and may be drunk hot or cold.

OINTMENTS

Ointments contain oils or fats heated with herbs and, unlike creams, contain no water. As a result, ointments form a separate layer on the surface of the skin.

They protect against injury or inflammation of damaged skin and carry active medicinal constituents, such as essential oils, to the affected area.

Useful in conditions such as hemorrhoids or where protection is needed from moisture, as in chapped lips and diaper rash.

POULTICES

A poultice is a mixture of fresh, dried, or powdered herbs that is applied to an affected area.

Used to ease nerve or muscle pains, sprains, or broken bones, and to draw pus from infected wounds, ulcers, or boils.

SYRUPS

Honey and unrefined sugar are effective preservatives.

Can be combined with infusions or decoctions to make syrups and cordials.

They have the additional benefit of having a soothing action, and therefore make a perfect vehicle for cough mixtures as well as relieving sore throats.

With their sweet taste, syrups can disguise the taste of unpalatable herbs and are therefore greatly appreciated by children.

TINCTURES

Tinctures are made by soaking an herb in alcohol. This encourages the active plant constituents to dissolve, giving tinctures a relatively stronger action than infusions or decoctions.

They are convenient to use and last up to 2 years.

Tinctures can be made using a jug and a jelly bag, instead of a wine press. Although mainly used in European, American, and Australian herbal medicine, tinctures play a part in most herbal traditions.

TONIC WINES

Tonic wines are an agreeable way to take strengthening and tonic herbs to increase vitality and improve digestion.

Neither strictly medicinal, nor simply appealing to the palate, they are easy to prepare at home.

Made by steeping tonic herbs in red or white wine for several weeks.

OTHER PREPARATIONS

Steam Inhalations

Steam inhalations are an effective way to clear congestion and relieve sinusitis, hay fever, and bronchial asthma.

The combination of steam and antiseptic ingredients clears the airways throughout the respiratory system.

Gargles & Mouthwashes

Gargles and mouthwashes usually contain astringent herbs, which tighten the mucous membranes of the mouth and throat.

As gargles and mouthwashes are made from infusions, decoctions, or diluted tinctures, they can generally be swallowed for internal treatment. Ensure you do not exceed the daily internal dose of an herb.

Pessaries & Suppositories

Pessaries and suppositories are waxy pellets containing essential oil or fine powder.

They are used when oral medicine is likely to be broken down during digestion before reaching its intended site.

Pessaries are inserted into the vagina and suppositories into the anus, where they melt at body temperature.

The herb is quickly absorbed into the bloodstream, providing fast relief. It is best to buy ready-made suppositories.

Essential Oils

Essential oils can be used in massage to soothe minor aches and pains.

Before use, they should be diluted with a carrier oil as they can irritate the skin.

Essential oils deteriorate rapidly after dilution, so it is best to mix small quantities as you need them.

Baths & Skin Washes

Herbal baths and skin washes can relieve many conditions, including aching limbs and stuffy sinuses.

They are made from diluted essential oils or infusions.

Eyebaths soothe sore, inflamed, or irritated eyes.

Cold Macerations

Heat destroys the active constituents of some herbs.

Thus, a cold maceration might be more appropriate than a decoction.

Juices

The juices extracted from many herbs.

Can be taken internally or applied externally.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[fictionalsweethearts]

THE COMMISSION | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

'The Commission' series: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt.4, epilogue.

Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.

Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn baby 💋, several parts btw

Word count: 1,862

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

Sevika recognized your skills and abilities, you were an intelligent and astute bastard in an environment that being pretty was related to being naive. You knew how to use your looks to your advantage and enchant people with your words, your charisma and your talent. What was your talent? The mechanics, specifically the mechanics with Shimmer. You knew how to use the drug to your advantage, manufacture the best pieces by combining the quality of your products with the functional guarantee of shimmer. You managed to earn loyal customers who were looking for high quality prostheses, weapons and even… other types of products. You were a versatile inventor and Zaunites appreciated it. You came to the Last Drop for that particular reason that night, Sevika had summoned you for a check of her mechanical arm and a certainly special commission. You pushed your way through the crowd, the smell of alcohol and Shimmer in the air, and looked for the tall woman. You spotted her at the back, sitting with three other individuals, gambling with a cigarette between her lips and a confident smile curving them.

"Good night, Sev." You greeted, to which the woman put her attention on you, exhaling the smoke from her cigarette.

"Well, well, well... You're earlier than usual." She replied, gesturing you over. "Come; I have something to discuss with you."

Sevika shooed her gambling companions, her attention focused on you and on that brown overall that you wore at every maintenance meeting. You used to unbutton the top, revealing your arms and torso in a tank top and accentuating your waist. Certainly the fact that you were sweet to Sevika's eyes made the meetings with you more pleasant.

Sevika poured you a glass of whiskey. "Two ice cubes, and with a little soda, as you like." Said the woman, having learned your preferences after two years working for her. You put the toolbox on the table, the exclusive place where you were gave you some privacy and calm to work.

"I see that you remember my whims." You smiled, sitting down.

She pushed the glass towards you, watching you sit down. "Of course I do - I pay attention to detail." Her eyes scanned your attire, taking a quick drag of her cigarette. "You look good, as usual."

"I won't discount for flirting." You teased, leaning back against the cushions with a smug smile.

"It wasn't a flirt." She replied, a smirk playing on her lips. "I'm simply making an observation."

"You either flirt or fight, don't fuck with me." You smiled, sipping your glass. "The arm's acting up again?" You asked, aiming at her mechanical left arm.

"Yeah, it's been giving me a pain in the ass." She replied, rolling her left shoulder. "Not acting like it should; slower than usual."

"Mhm, tell me more." You asked, already putting the glass down to lean and start observing the prosthetic arm.

"It's been slower to respond to movements - and the strength has been weakened. It's also... overheating a little more often than usual."

'Overheating? It must be time for a thermal paste change." You assured, taking a screwdriver to start disarming the arm. "How's the shimmer working?"

Sevika rested her arm on the tabletop for you as you got to work.

"Shimmer supply is fine - no change there." She replied. There was a noticeable difference in the movement of her arm compared to the last checkup. "But I've been feeling a little... on edge lately. Shimmer usually doesn't affect me much with its side-effects... but..."

"Mhm?"

"I've been more irritable, frustrated." She replied, watching you closely. "It's like some kind of... primal urge of something."

"Huh. You sure it's the shimmer's fault?" You asked, you couldn't contain a smile. "Or maybe you need to visit the brothel more often."

"Trust me, I've been to the Pleasure House plenty of times." She responded playfully. "But you know damn well it's not the same thing."

"Huh, really? I thought you had your fair share of girls that could satisfy you."

It was no secret that Sevika was a regular customer in the red light district of Zaun, quite mentioned in the conversations among the people for being a fairly skilled woman in bed. Much more was said about Sevika than her lethality and character, her stamina in sex was mentioned, her fondness for the most vocal women, without preference between slim and chubby, but always testing the resistance of her bed partners. She's tireless said the hookers who had provided their services to her. And with the sexual appetite of a person like Sevika, the task of satisfying her was arduous.

"Oh trust me - they satisfy me, alright." She replied, her voice huskier. "But that's not what I need." She exhaled another plume of smoke. "I need to dominate someone."

"Geez." You stopped working on her arm, you rose your brows. "Getting honest, are we?"

"Only with you." Sevika replied, keeping her eyes on you. "You're one of the few people in Zaun I tolerate."

"Well, I don't think the arm has anything to do with your... sexual frustrations." You stated. "Actually, as soon as I change the thermal paste and grease the joints, your arm will work as usual."

You worked carefully on her arm, noticing the slight tremor in Sevika's right hand.

"I think you're overdoing Shimmer again." You said, unscrewing the last part to unclasp the prosthetic arm and pull it off. You laid it carefully on the table, continuing with your work. Sevika didn't complain, she trusted you enough to end up armless before you.

"That's rich coming from you. You probably have shimmer running through your veins right now."

"Huh." You smirked. "Too much work, too little energy." You excused yourself.

"I guess I can forgive you this time." She responded, watching you work with her prosthetic. "Besides, I need you to focus. I have a commission for you."

"A commission?" Your ears perked up, taking a sip of your drink. "Alright, I'm listening."

"I need you to make me something... special." She said, her voice low and huskier. "Do you think you can manage that?"

You scoffed. "What, a pipe?" You teased, but Sevika's answer dropped your jaw.

"A strap." She replied, her eyes slowly roaming over you. "Can you make one?"

You rose your eyebrows, certainly it wasn't the first strap-on you would make but it would be the first for Sevika. Many inhabitants of Zaun asked for prostheses or toys, you were a good manufacturer and your talent with the shimmer made your pieces reliable and high quality, but you certainly did not expect this type of request from Sevika.

You swallowed. "Sure, sure. I can." You said, your gaze fixed on the prosthetic arm.

"Good." She leaned back in her chair, taking another drag of her cigarette before continuing. "There are a few... specifications I want for it."

"I'm listening." you mumbled, annoyed with the way your cheeks blushed.

"7.5 inches, and it must have ridges along the shaft." She said, casually taking a drag of her cigarette. "Textured veins are preferable. Will you need a cast for that? I have a..." She shifted, pulling out a small pouch filled with coins - a small 'advance payment' for your services.

"A cast?" You asked. Your eyes were exorbitant before the coins that protruded from the bag, it was a good pay. Sevika never asked for discounts for your work, she knew it was worth every penny. "I mean, I don't really know any man I can use for a cast." You said sheepishly.

"You know you can get any Zaunite with a coin here." She teased. "Find a willing candidate - I'm sure it won't be too hard."

You were flabbergasted. "Are you suggesting me to hire someone to take a cast of his cock?" You asked with a subtle blush on your cheeks.

"I'm not suggesting, I'm telling you to." She replied, taking another drag of her cigarette. "This is a commission, and I'm paying you generously for it. You'll find a taker - I know you're a sweet talker when you need to be."

"I can't believe this." You sighed sharply.

"Oh, c'mon, you'll manage." She teased. "Just do what you do best. Seduce."

"What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, can I take a cast of your cock? It's for a commission of mine'."

Sevika laughed heartily, enjoying this way more than she'd care to admit. "That pretty much sums it up, yeah." She replied. "I'm assuming most men won't say no, at least not with a pretty face like that."

"Huh. I think you're observant enough." You couldn't refuse an order to a customer as loyal as Sevika, it was a good pay. You just had to gather courage and find a candidate to take the mold, there would certainly be no shortage of suitors. The only problem is how they would take the offer, they would probably try to take advantage of you. You frowned, tensing at the idea of dealing with horny swines.

Sevika observed your frown, noticing the tension in your shoulders. She leaned forward, catching your gaze.

"Relax." She said firmly. "I'll be there with you. If anyone decides to be... insistent, I'll put them in their place."

Your shoulders relaxed. You trusted her, more than people believed. And you knew that Sevika would protect your integrity throughout the process, since she was a woman who kept her word, and her sense of protectiveness was simply unmatched.

"I'll take the measurements of your hip and crotch then." You finally said, looking for a measuring tape in the toolbox.

Sevika smiled pleased as she stood up from her seat. You knelt in front of her, unrolling the measuring tape to take the hip and crotch measurements. As you moved around, your hands touched her thigh, and your face came a few inches from her crotch.

"Lift your hips slightly." You said, trying to remain professional.

She lifted her hips slightly, watching you closely. "This good?" She asked, her voice betraying no hint of emotion.

"Yeah." You nodded. "Poor women that will have to keep up with you on a strap." You mumbled.

"Oh, the ladies will be fine." She retorted, a smirk on her face. "They'll enjoy it, if they know what's good for them."

"I don't wanna hear any details, thank you."

"Fine, we'll move on." She agreed, her eyes still fixed on you. "You're too focused on the details. I'll handle finding the... talent for the cast then."

"Fine." You finished taking the measurements, standing up. The size difference when you looked up at Sevika was... intimidating to say the least.

"You're too short." she teased.

"You're too tall." you said back, picking up your toolbox.

Sevika smiled, knowing it was time for you to go and time for her to resume her gambling session. "Tanner will walk you out." She said. "Make sure she gets home safe." She ordered.

You followed Tanner out the door, glancing at Sevika who was leaning against the table and crossing her arms with a smile on her lips. "Take your time, doll, I trust your work."

To be continued...

[theragethatisdesire]

scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

-

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

[digiflora]

╭┄───────────── 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐕! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

featuring. hsr men 〆 wc. 1.0k

art creds. 海仑 on weibo 〆 contains. mentions of being drunk/drinking, some suggestiveness but still sfw

gia's notes. new layout bc im allergic to keeping a theme 🏰 also i'm writing this while i procrastinate an essay. which is due in like.. 8.5 hours. and i am 2k over the word limit. joy upon joy.

╰┄➤ ❝ request. anon 〆 What HSR men says when they are drunk. ❞

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re SWEET when they’re drunk.

his voice gets a touch softer, a little lower so that you have to crane your neck and lean in real close to him to catch what he's saying over the bustle of the bar that you went to and the chatter of your friends that you came with. it’s like you’re in your own little universe with him, the sweet pinkish tint to his cheeks and the dilated pupils a look that you could definitely get used to- not that his usual more reserved look didn’t make your heart hammer in your chest, too.

but it's just so rare to see him like this, for him to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like every word that passes your lips is a prayer, whose hands furl and unfurl in his lap like he's itching to touch you (you wish he would).

it's not like he really says much, per se, instead opting to watch your every move wide-eyed and with a slackened jaw. you're growing warm under his gaze, and you stutter out that he'll really have to quit staring at you like that before you get the wrong idea. that does little to stop his actions, though he does flash you a sheepish smile.

"i'm sorry, you just look so beautiful."

you almost choke as you take a sip of your own drink.

gepard, dan heng (imbibitor lunae), moze, luocha

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re FLIRTY when they’re drunk.

it should be illegal for him to be this much of a smooth talker with that many drinks in his system. he's completely and utterly shameless, one arm rested casually against the back of your chair and his whole undivided attention on you as he throws every line he knows right at you hoping that one will land.

you'd be lying if you said that you weren't enjoying this attention from him, though there's the remaining sober part of you screaming how he's just a friend over and over, but when he dips his head low to whisper into your ear you're delighted to find that part of you audibly drown out.

everything about him is just so... tantalising. the way his silver tongue darts out to swipe across his lip, him not missing the way your eyes follow the movement. the way he leans back in his seat, the hungry yet calculating look in his eyes doing something to you. the way you see him deliberating over something before finally opening his mouth to speak.

and when he asks you if you want to get out here with him, it's only natural for you to accept his offer.

aventurine (realistically he gets sad when he drinks but that is not romantical or lighthearted at all) jiaoqiu, gallagher, boothill

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TALKATIVE when they’re drunk.

even on a good day, he's known to just talk, and talk, and talk if he gets going. that particular quality only seems to be amplified by the alcohol coursing through his system. he's been talking your ear off for the past half hour or so, a never-ending flow of words escaping his lips as he seems to he telling you just about everything that's on his mind.

you see the glances from others, the pity edging its way to concern adorning their features, but little do they know that you don't mind one bit.

while he may not be everyone's favourite to talk to, you've always found something within you compelled to sit and listen while he talks. he's always had something interesting to say, always been wary of if you are feeling tired or bored (not that you ever would be of him), and over your few encounters you've grown to be rather fond of him.

he's still talking now, an enthusiastic gleam in his eye as you smile and nod, propping your chin against your hand as you get comfy and study his features unbothered.

he sees the affectionate look on your face and stops for a moment, smiling widely and stuttering a few times before continuing.

dr ratio, sampo, mr reca, argenti

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TIRED when they’re drunk.

it's something that happened once, a few months ago when you had drank with them for the first time. you had all been in a group, and you had been chatting away with your friends rather livelily (i dont think that's a word) until you promptly felt a weight against your shoulder.

your reactions are a bit sluggish, but when you do turn to see just what it could be you're surprised to see a head of hair, and your tipsy brain just about manages to realise he's slumped over, dozing off on your shoulder, much to the amusement of everyone at the table.

you find it rather funny yourself, sneaking your phone out of your pocket to snap a rather unflattering-angled photo of him (which he still manages to look good in) that you send to him the next morning (he smiled to himself as he saw your grinning face in the corner of it and saved it to his camera roll).

you don't quite have the heart to wake him up or shrug him off, so you sort of just... let him be and continue talking like nothing had happened. some nondescript amount of time later he wakes up, blinking uncertainly as he gains his surroundings, before jolting up ramrod straight and apologising to you.

you giggle, tell him it's alright and tease that he must be getting old to be asleep this early, which is met with an unimpressed look from him.

but from that night onwards, it happens a little too... often to be some chance.

every time he drinks, without fail, his head drops onto your shoulder. it's somewhat of a routine to snap a photo of him like this, to admire it in secret before sending it to him, and it's somewhat of a tradition now for him to wake up and instead send you a reserved smile before letting himself doze off on your shoulder again.

not that either of you are complaining.

blade, jing yuan, caelus, welt

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

[daosies]

when you get injured

sylus, xavier, rafayel ♡ gn!reader

warnings: alcohol (sylus), graphic depictions of violence, sylus is his own warning he's so freaky (but hes so fine), major story spoilers (all three), blood, mc is the protagonist but gender neutral, lowercase intended

notes: MISTY INVASION GOT ME

sylus always looks forward to your calls.

he likes listening to you ramble about the little nothings of your day, the mindless white noise that echoes from your end whenever you get lost in thought.

more often than not, sylus isn't satisfied with just that. sometimes, he wishes he could witness your expressions for himself rather than through the chirps and retellings from mephisto, to narrow the distance between the two of you.

clink! he lifts a glass of whiskey up to his lips.

sylus eyes his phone before taking a sip, gaze beginning to drift around the vastness of his bedroom. warm lamps illuminate the corners and his attention redirects towards the various plushies that line the shelves.

ever-so slightly, the corners of his lips break into the subtlest of smiles.

his gaze returns to the phone.

later than usual, sylus thinks, staring at the pretentious (according to you) grandfather clock in his room. tick, tick. its tempo mimics his heartbeat, the steady rhythm falling into place.

sylus's days are redundant—they have been for quite a while—but what he always looks forward to is your calls, which always come at this time.

except for today, it seems. even though you're not obligated to call him, and you never told him that these calls would become a regular occurrence, sylus has grown expectant. terribly so.

he takes another sip of his drink, eyes darting back and forth from his phone to his wristwatch.

sylus would like to maintain his image as an independent, mysterious alpha; but you—oh, you—have a knack at dismembering him, at taking apart the chambers of his heart and weaving yourself into its tissue. you tattoo yourself into his skin, permeating into his existence without ever realizing.

you've always been a little cruel. sylus likes that about you.

tick, tick. he half-considers calling you first. when it comes to you, sylus has nothing to lose—from the crimson of his irises to the crimson of his blood, he's surrendered everything, offering all that he has in a ferocious, lovely organ that goes, endlessly: thump, thump, thump...

he thinks of your fantastic beauty. the tempo stutters.

tick, tick. ring! sylus reaches for his phone within an instant, not caring about luke and kieran's spiel about how a "real charmer" would wait for the phone to ring multiple times before picking up. but sylus doesn't have time to play games like that—he wants to hear your voice and he wants to hear it now.

"so, you finally decided to call, hm?" sylus asks, swirling his drink leisurely. he brings the glass up to his lips, unable to contain the way a smirk breaks out onto his face, the way you do so much as exist, the way you radiate and oh, the way you seek him out!

sylus thinks he's never felt so satisfied before, with all that he's ever achieved, you just might be the greatest of them all.

and he hasn't even achieved you yet. he thinks he never will; you've always been volatile, wildly beautiful and wildly free. again, sylus likes that about you.

you don't respond. sylus sets his glass down on the table, unbothered, smirk still fixed onto his lips. that is until he hears a loud crash from your end, the sound of labored breaths following soon after.

"[name]?" sylus calls, standing up immediately. his whiskey remains forgotten, free hand reaching for the leather coat draped across his chair, the fabric still stained red from earlier events.

sylus has no time to worry about how he presents himself, because before you can even utter another word, he's racing out of his pretentious (according to you) mansion and swinging a leg over his motorbike.

the steady tempo of his heart begins to race, beating the rhythm of the grandfather clock that, endlessly, echoes tick, tick... sylus attributes its consistency to the fact that the grandfather clock, in all its glory, has never had the pleasure of knowing you.

if it did, then its flow would be disrupted, its rhythm would stutter and leap, and sylus knows this fact all too well because it's happened to him. because it's happening to him.

thump, thump-thump... "[name]," sylus calls. he says your name just to say it, to feel its syllables on his tongue, to swallow the sound and let it reverberate throughout his chest, easing the spasm of his heart and the fracturing of his ribs.

"[name], talk to me," sylus says, the steadiness of his voice starkly contrasting the tremble of his irises. "[name], i'll be there. count to three?"

one. he revvs the engine.

two. his fingers tighten around the handlebars.

three. the tempo of his heart goes, achingly, thump-thump-thump, thump... for a second, the sound changes. for a second, the sound shifts and utters, in the softest of timbres: you.

black and red tendrils spew from the ground below you, wrapping your figure in a tender embrace whilst the sound of an engine rings throughout your ears.

smoke envelopes the room, your vision becoming blurry while the tendrils shrink away, their absence filled in by the warmth of calloused hands.

sylus lifts you up, pressing your head against his chest before whispering, "go to sleep, darling. it'll all be over soon."

when your eyes lull back, and your body falls limp, sylus goes mad. his hands never leave your figure, his evol forming limbs to strangle your opponent, watching the way they writhe and scream without ever tearing his gaze away.

"report," sylus demands, talking to no one.

"after finding out [name] was closely associated with you, boss, this person tried to get some information about you." still, someone responds.

sylus chuckles. "two corrections." he steps towards the suffocating person, crimson gaze trailing theirs and landing on you. when he notices this, sylus clicks his tongue, tightening the tendrils of his evol and forcing the perpetrator to look away from you.

tenderly, sylus caresses the side of your face, as if to brush away that person's distateful gaze.

"[name] and i are more than just close associates," sylus continues with his previous statement, holding you closer towards him. he finds solace in the way your chest rises up and down, reassuring him of your vitality, your incomparable radiance.

"and," he says, retracting his evol. the person falls to the floor with a harsh thud, and sylus merely tilts his head in the direction of the body, commanding the twins to clean the corpse up.

"that isn't a person. it's just some pest. kieran, don't make that mistake again."

luke snickers.

kieran straightens up, mop in hand. "yes, boss!"

only when your breathing steadies does sylus's heart return to its regular rhythm, matching the pace of the pretentious grandfather clock.

you've taken his bed (he's given it, really), and sylus doesn't bother pulling up a chair; sinking to his knees as he gazes at you fearfully, reverently. his hands come up to cover yours, elbows digging into the mattress. the warmth of your skin mixes with his own.

you've taken his bed, but sylus thinks that that's only one of the many things you've taken. you've taken his mind, his heart, him. you've taken all that he's got to give, all that he's ever fathomed of being his.

"you're always so cruel," sylus mutters to himself, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

(but, i love that about you, he thinks.)

your head and side are wrapped with bandages, tended to by sylus himself. he doesn't trust anyone else—not even luke or kieran—when it comes to treating you; you're too delicate, too fragile for a place like this.

sylus's gaze remains fixed on the bridge of your nose, the cracks of your lips. sweat trickles down your forehead, your brows furrowed from discomfort and nightmares plaguing your sleep. he reaches a hand to brush the sweat away, grazing across your skin until your brows ease up, until your expression drifts into that of contentedness.

oh, you're beautiful. ethereally so.

(you don't belong here.)

still, sylus's hand traces over yours. he feels the callouses adorning your palm, marred by your work as a hunter. filling the gaps of your fingers with his own, sylus's hand locks into place.

(you call it abduction. he calls it love.)

whenever it comes to you, xavier is on high alert.

he's always hyper aware of your location, your status and your surroundings. whenever you fight wanderers together—as partners often do—he's always thinking of you, of ways to redirect everything towards him, of ways to get you as far away as possible.

for the longest time, xavier thought that that'd be enough. he thought that, so long as you're okay, he doesn't care about what happens to him, about what happens to anything. he's always thought that, really. here and philos alike.

"xavier!" you yell, and before he can even react, your figure comes colliding with his, arms wrapping tightly around the back of his neck as the two of you tumble towards the ground.

he doesn't know what went wrong—was it his clumsiness? was it his arrogance? he had always thought that, so long as you were safe, nothing else mattered.

but xavier had never thought of a situation where he was the one at risk, where he was the one who needed saving. he had never thought that you'd be the one to sacrifice yourself, because, ever since he met you, xavier identified himself as a sword, as a weapon at your disposal.

he is your weapon. he is yours.

xavier's hand comes to the small of your back, feeling the blood seep in between the gaps of his fingers. his breath falls short of escaping, shrinking down his esophagus and bringing everything, from the race of his heart to the warmth of his face to a standstill.

primal instincts take over. xavier fights with tooth and nail, forgetting all that he's learned from his swordsmanship classes—but oh, never forgetting his time with you—while his grip around your waist tightens.

his movements are quick and wild as he slices through each wanderer with the efficiency of a machine, running on a code that prints out, endlessly, you, you, you.

after everything has been eliminated, xavier reaches for your neck, searching desperately for a pulse. after confirming that it's there, he teleports away to the nearest hospital, free palm pressing into the center of your wound.

xavier's scared. he's scared you won't make it. he's scared he's failed you. he's scared of a lot of things, really.

when you're wheeled away in a stretcher, tended to by a whole team of medical professionals, xavier's left yearning and waiting, clinging onto nothing but hope and a fragmented memory of you. he's always yearned—back in philos and here, now—but it's a little different this time.

you've always been out of reach, like you were a star and he, an observer. but now, you're so tangible, so delicate and so fleeting despite being right there.

xavier feels like you could disappear within an instant, and he wouldn't put it past you to leave this life behind, to restart anew somewhere else. with someone who was a little stronger than him, a little less selfish.

he's selfish. so what?

you evoke something primal within him, something that makes him forget his etiquette classes and his time at the academy, wasting away at textbooks and duels. you make xavier burn, wildly, fantastically, like a flame—like a star, even.

you make him feel unlike himself, because xavier's used to being calm and collected and oh-so drowsy, but when it comes to you, everything changes. the world reinvents itself anew and presents itself, fogged in a pink lens, as something lovelier than before.

xavier resigns himself to one of the many chairs of the waiting room. he buries his face into his gloved hands, not caring about the messiness of his appearance.

when he closes his eyes, all he can see is your limp figure. he opts to stare at the television screen instead, the reports of the news appearing mute to his deafened ears. xavier swallows thickly, mouth feeling terribly dry, wrapped around the shape of your name. it waits.

a couple hours pass, and a nurse appears to fetch him. xavier says nothing, tongue still stuck in time.

only when he enters your room, and listens to the repetitive beep of the heart monitor, does his mouth free itself from its prison, liberating itself to utter, in the faintest of whispers, "[name]..."

you don't stir awake. xavier's fine with that. he pulls a chair to your bedside, and he sits, and he stares. periwinkle eyes trail across your features, tracing them like a sculptor, desperate to reshape the bandages and gauzes that cover your abdomen.

xavier wishes he could crawl into your body and steal all the pain for himself.

there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him, the kind of instinct that is only ever sung about in epics and myths and tragic, star-crossed plays.

he reaches forward, bare thumb coming to graze over your cheekbone. you're quiet, too quiet, and xavier's paranoid. too paranoid.

there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it takes over xavier's eyes and it trains them to fixate on you.

your image slips into his sight, swallowed greedily by xavier's pupils, remembered fervently by his mind. while his hands cannot have you, xavier compensates with his eyes, desperate and mad and oh, so lovely.

there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.

xavier forfeits his beloved sleep in order to watch over your heart monitor, to watch over your heart.

even when all the lights shut off, and when the device's beeps blend into the white noise of the hospital room, his periwinkle gaze never leaves your figure, adjusting to the darkness and finding solace there.

(a star has landed on earth. it's guided by a great, irrevocable instinct. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.)

once more, xavier's mouth wraps around the shape of your name. it utters, in the softest of timbres, "[name], i love you."

although you aren't awake to respond, xavier is content with just this.

(a star has landed on earth. it stayed because it found you.)

"[name]," he whispers again, finding comfort in the familiar syllables, "i love you." maybe, saying it will make it realer than it already is. maybe, saying it will satiate his soul, providing him with enough sustenance to feast on for the next century or two.

maybe, xavier just calls your name to feel its syllables on his tongue. because he likes the sound of your name. because he wants to hear it, in whatever capacity, whenever he can.

maybe, it's just a great, irrevocable instinct.

whatever it is, xavier is content. he stares at you, and he feasts.

it always goes like this: with rafayel chasing after you.

you have a habit of leaving him behind—rafayel thinks it's just in your nature.

you give him a taste of everything before leaving him with nothing, and even though rafayel hates, hates you for that, he can't help but want everything again.

(he had everything, once.)

"[name]!" the scream that erupts from rafayel's throat is raw, marred by a desperation and anguish that travels across lifetimes. rafayel can't lose you—not again, not like this.

"raf—" you're interrupted by a violent cough, blood spilling from your lips. "just go!"

and there you go again, in all your selfish glory, in all your inconsiderate and shameless heroism. do you like watching his expression drop into that of utter horror, when all he's ever wanted was you?

he can never get his way.

"ugh," he mutters to himself, voice cracking at the end. "i just hate you, you know!?" your gaze is preoccupied by the giant wanderer that looms over your figure, its attention belonging wholly to you.

rafayel has the audacity to be offended. hello? he manages to think, despite all the fear and anxiety. why's it not looking at me? i'm right here!

you aim your gun at the wanderer's head, and rafayel almost wants to laugh. to think you're fighting close-combat with guns—wow, what an accomplished bodyguard you are!

rafayel is half-considering finding a new bodyguard now, because it looks like his current one isn't too bright in the head.

rafayel hates the way you go around, saving everyone, saving everything. he hates the way you save and the way you forget, the way you go around picking up more strays whilst forgetting your first one.

rafayel hates you. he hates you. he hates you!

despite all the pain and soreness in his (self-proclaimed) delicate limbs, he rushes forward, daggers in hand while fire vomits from the ground. rafayel hates you, sure, but hate and love are lawfully wedded, tightly intertwined and fueled by one another.

rafayel hates you. he hates you. but oh, he loves you. he loves you in the way he's willing to let you keep that heart of his, the way orpheus loved eurydice, the way he did everything and anything, only to catch a glimpse before losing it all.

he charges in front of you, occupying the wanderer while you take a couple steps back. rafayel half-wishes you'd run. he half-wishes you'd turn and abandon him so he could find it in himself to abandon you. you did it once before, so why can't you do it again?

when bullets stop flying, rafayel wonders if you left. he wonders if it's really over. so, he looks back.

you're still there. this time, you don't disappear. your eyes meet his, and somehow, you find it in yourself to smile.

he wants to cry.

"rafayel, let's resonate!"

and oh, you're otherwordly. you're so, so gorgeous. it's in the flame that dances across your irises, the determination that settles into your features.

you're so beautiful it hurts, because rafayel hates the effect you have on him, the way you go around enchanting everyone, everything!

when crimson blood trickles down your face, staining your skin a violent red, rafayel thinks you're sublime. he feels insignificant in your radiance, in your marvelous existence, your marvelous world.

"fine, let's!"

your hand locks with his, and rafayel hates the way his heart skips a beat. he hates the way yours didn't. he hates the way he's the only one overthinking these things, the only one who remembers after all this time.

the world is engulfed in flames. and rafayel spares you a glance, your skin illuminated by the warmth, flickering in and out. the wanderer disintegrates into ash, leaving nothing but a measly protocore for all the suffering it put him through.

your eyes fall back. instinctively, rafayel reaches a hand out, catching you in his arms despite hating the way you contort his limbs, the way you make him trail after you like a madman.

he is anything but a madman—in fact, rafayel is perfectly normal.

still, he cradles you in his arms. blood trickles from the side of your face.

"you're not the only one bleeding," rafayel mutters bitterly, feeling lightheaded himself. "who do you even think you are?"

his thumb comes to brush your chapped lips, wiping stray droplets of blood from the dried skin.

you're ethereal. rafayel will never admit that outloud. not like this. but, he thinks that you're something akin to a grecian statue, reflecting all that is lovely and all that is mortal.

rafayel thinks that, when you were crafted—long before this current incarnation—you were crafted with the most delicate of touches, the loveliest of visions.

he looks at you, and he wants to create. he wants to waste away at his canvases, wild and fanatic and looking over his shoulder, wondering if you'll still be there when it's all over.

knowing your nature, you won't be.

still, rafayel can't help but dream. dreams can change the world, after all. dreams are what led him back to you.

his thumb reaches for his own lips. he kisses the skin and he weeps.

rafayel hates you.

he hates you so, so much.

he shrinks into your figure and he follows your heartbeat, the sound so, achingly familiar.

when you regain consciousness, it's in rafayel's studio. your figure is drowned in pearl-white blankets, your wounds wrapped tenderly with fresh bandages.

"good mooorning, sleepyhead," rafayel says, not facing you. his hands are occupied with a brush and palette, head craned upward to fully take in the canvas. "some bodyguard you are, huh!"

"rafayel!" you quickly exclaim, trying to stand up. rafayel is quick to turn around, setting his palette down to wag a disapproving finger at you.

"nuh uh! don't get out of bed! get some rest! and oh, don't even talk to me! not until you've apologized for doing all that dumb, fish-brained stuff!"

rafayel looks back. you're still there.

in this life, rafayel thinks he has everything.

[callsigns-haze]

Family Business

Summary: Hangman finally goes back to top gun and the daggers....well they want the tea

Warning: Contains alcohol, cursing, teasing, mentions of labour, postpartum.

Word count: 2636 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Could be read alone or as part three of Little Life and Silly little life

Three weeks had passed since Jake had set foot on the Top Gun base, and as he walked into the hangar, he could feel all eyes on him. The usual hum of the hangar, the sounds of jets being prepped, filled the air, but this time it felt like he was walking into an ambush. He had been out of the game long enough for them to notice—and that meant one thing: relentless teasing.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Phoenix spotted him and was on him like a hawk. “Well, look who finally decided to show his face,” she said with a grin, crossing her arms. “I was beginning to think you forgot how to fly, Hangman.”

Jake smirked, unbothered as he swaggered toward them. “I don’t forget anything, Trace.”

“Yeah, except how to show up,” Rooster chimed in, leaning against one of the jets. His aviators glinted in the sunlight as he shot Jake a smirk. “Where’ve you been, man? Can’t imagine someone like you being tied up with ‘family business.’ Sounds like an excuse to me.”

Jake rolled his eyes, leaning against a nearby crate. “Family business, Bradshaw. Not an excuse. It’s called responsibility, but I wouldn’t expect you to know much about that.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile spreading across his face. “Responsibility? You? What, did you have to help your mom put up Christmas lights or something?”

Phoenix snorted, nudging Bob in the ribs. “Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, family man. Didn’t think I’d see the day.”

Payback and Fanboy joined in, shaking their heads as they exchanged looks. “Hangman with family business? Did the world end while you were gone?” Payback teased. “Or is this some weird alternate universe we’re living in?”

Fanboy laughed, throwing up his hands. “Seriously, what kind of family business does someone like Hangman even have? I thought your whole life was flying and flirting.”

Jake shrugged, keeping his expression neutral despite the barrage of questions. “Family business is just that—family business. Nothing for you all to worry about.”

“Come on, man,” Bob finally spoke up, his quiet curiosity breaking through. “You’ve been gone for weeks. That’s not like you. We’re just trying to figure out what’s up.”

Jake could feel their eyes all on him, waiting for some sort of juicy explanation, but he wasn’t about to give them anything. Not yet. Not about Y/N, and definitely not about their daughter Ellie-Mae. The last thing he needed was the whole squad knowing about the tiny bundle of joy waiting for him back in Texas.

“I told you,” Jake said smoothly, his hands in his pockets as he kept his tone casual. “Just family stuff. Nothing to lose sleep over.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed as she studied him. “You sure you didn’t get married while you were gone? Or maybe you’re secretly a CIA agent and just can’t tell us.”

Rooster laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, if Hangman was in the CIA, he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. He’d be bragging about it every chance he got.”

Jake shot Rooster a look, but before he could respond, Phoenix waved a hand. “Whatever. It’s not like you’re gonna tell us anything, so I’m not wasting any more of my time.”

The others murmured in agreement, their curiosity still piqued but knowing better than to press Jake any further. The teasing eased up, and they turned back to their tasks, still throwing the occasional glance his way. But Coyote—standing back, watching with his arms crossed—had remained quiet the entire time, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He was the only one who knew the truth, after all. Coyote had been there from the beginning, the one person Jake trusted with everything. He knew about Y/N, about the love that had blindsided Jake and changed his life in ways he never expected. And now, he knew about Ellie-Mae—their beautiful little girl with Jake’s eyes and Y/N’s fierce spirit. Coyote had kept Jake’s secret this whole time, and the amusement on his face showed just how much he was enjoying watching Jake dodge all the questions.

Once the teasing finally died down, Jake excused himself from the group, heading toward the locker room to grab his gear. He could still feel the weight of their eyes on his back, but it didn’t bother him. He was used to the squad’s prying, but he wasn’t ready to let them in on his new life just yet.

As he rounded the corner, making sure he was out of earshot, he heard footsteps behind him. Before he could turn around, Coyote’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he started shaking him playfully.

“Hangman,” Coyote laughed, gripping Jake’s shoulders as he gave him a few good shakes. “You lucky son of a bitch! Walking around here like nothing happened, when you’ve got a damn baby at home!”

Jake chuckled, turning around to face him, though he glanced over his shoulder to make sure the others weren’t following. “Keep your voice down, Javy. You trying to let the whole base know?”

Coyote let out another laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Man, I still can’t believe it. Ellie-Mae, huh? I knew you were going soft when you started talking about Y/N, but a baby? That’s next-level.”

Jake grinned, unable to help himself as the thought of Ellie-Mae filled his mind. “Yeah, well, didn’t exactly plan on it, but… here we are.”

Coyote clapped him on the back, his eyes shining with genuine excitement. “You’re a dad now, bro. That’s wild. How’s it feel?”

Jake paused for a moment, letting the question sink in. He thought about Y/N, the late nights with Ellie in his arms, and the way his heart practically burst every time he looked at her. “It’s… crazy,” he admitted, his voice softening. “Hard to believe I could love someone that much. It’s terrifying, but in the best way.”

Coyote chuckled, shaking his head. “I bet. You better start getting used to diapers and spit-up, man. You’re in for a wild ride.”

Jake rolled his eyes, though the grin never left his face. “Yeah, well, it’s worth it. Y/N and Ellie—they’re everything.”

Coyote’s expression softened as he gave Jake another firm clap on the shoulder. “You’re a lucky guy, Hangman. You know that, right?”

Jake nodded, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, Javy. I know.”

With that, they stood there for a moment in silence, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them. Coyote was right—Jake was lucky. Luckier than he ever thought possible. And as much as he loved flying, he knew that his real world was waiting for him back home.

That evening, the Dagger squad made it their mission to squeeze answers out of Jake—answers they knew he wasn’t going to give up willingly. But their tactics had shifted from teasing to something more strategic: drinks. They’d dragged him to the bar near the base, determined to make him pay for disappearing for three weeks without so much as a solid explanation.

Phoenix nudged him as they settled around a table. “Alright, Hangman, since you won’t tell us where you’ve been, the least you can do is buy the first round.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but his grin never faltered. “Oh, I see how it is. You think a few drinks are gonna loosen my tongue?”

Rooster smirked from across the table. “You never know. Maybe after a couple of shots, you’ll be singing like a bird.”

The whole squad chuckled at that, and even Jake had to laugh, though he wasn’t planning on revealing anything. “Fine, fine,” he said, standing up. “But don’t expect any stories. This is just because I’m a generous guy.”

Payback clapped him on the back as he headed toward the bar. “We’ll take what we can get, man. You owe us.”

Jake made his way through the crowd, ordered the drinks, and carried the tray back to the table where the squad was already lining up a game of pool. The atmosphere was lively, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. He handed out the drinks, then leaned against the pool table, chalking up a cue as Rooster took the first shot.

But just as Jake was about to join in, his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He glanced down at the screen, and his heart did a little flip when he saw Y/N’s name pop up, along with the FaceTime icon.

“Of course,” Phoenix muttered when she saw him glance at his phone. “Let me guess—more ‘family business’?”

Jake smirked, putting the cue down. “Yeah, something like that. I gotta take this.”

A collective groan rose from the squad. “Come on, man!” Rooster protested, lining up his next shot. “Can’t it wait?”

Jake shook his head. “Not this time, Bradshaw. You guys keep playing. I’ll be back.”

He slipped outside the bar, leaving the noise behind as he stepped into the cool evening air. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the sidewalk, and he found a quiet spot away from the crowds before answering the call. As the screen connected, the familiar sight of Y/N’s desk came into view. She was sitting there, her hair tied back in a messy bun, wearing one of Jake’s old t-shirts. But what really caught his attention was the tiny bundle wrapped against her chest—Ellie, snug in her baby wrap, sound asleep.

Jake’s heart swelled at the sight of them, and his usual cocky grin softened into something more genuine. “Hey, darlin’,” he said, his voice low. “How’re my girls doing?”

Y/N smiled, her eyes tired but full of love. “We’re good. She just went down after her evening fuss. Thought I’d call you before it gets too late.”

Jake leaned against the wall, his smile widening as he watched Ellie’s little chest rise and fall with each soft breath. “She’s getting bigger every day,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “I swear she looks different already.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “That’s because she is. You’re missing out on all her growth spurts while you’re out there playing pool and buying your squad drinks.”

Jake winced playfully. “Busted. Yeah, they dragged me out tonight, trying to get me to spill where I’ve been. They don’t know about you or Ellie yet.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Still keeping us a secret, huh?”

“For now,” Jake said, his tone softer. “I just want to keep this between us a little longer, you know?”

She nodded, her hand gently resting on Ellie’s back. “I get it. We’re your secret weapon.”

Jake’s smile softened even more, his heart swelling with how perfect this moment felt. “Exactly. How’s Ellie been today? No more colic?”

“She’s been a little angel today,” Y/N said, glancing down at the sleeping baby. “I think the baby wrap helps. She loves being close like this.”

Jake’s gaze lingered on them, a quiet longing in his eyes. “I miss you both so much,” he murmured. “Wish I could be there.”

“We miss you too,” Y/N said, her voice filled with warmth. “But we’ll be here when you get back. And maybe next time, you can tell the squad the real reason why you’ve been missing.”

Jake chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, maybe. One day. But not yet. For now, I’m keeping you two all to myself.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes soft as they locked onto his through the screen. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They stayed like that for a moment, just watching each other through the screen, neither wanting to hang up. Finally, Jake sighed. “Alright, darlin’. I should let you get some rest. I’ll call you again tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, her voice soft. “We’ll be waiting. Love you, Jake.”

“Love you too,” he said, his voice warm as he ended the call. He lingered for a moment, staring at the blank screen, already missing them more than he thought possible.

With a deep breath, he tucked his phone back into his pocket and headed back inside, ready to face the squad again, but this time with a little more peace in his heart.

The moment he crossed the threshold, Rooster spotted him, leaning on his pool cue with a cocky grin. “Oh great, he’s back. And look at him—moping around like a lovesick puppy.”

Phoenix, already lining up her next shot, glanced up and smirked. “I thought you were supposed to be Hangman, not Hang-up-the-phone-and-sulk man.”

The rest of the squad laughed, and even Bob, always the quiet one, chuckled under his breath. “What was that, your mom calling to check up on you?”

Jake rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t quite muster his usual bravado. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Baby on board.”

Payback, who had been eyeing him from the bar, raised his glass in Jake’s direction. “No, seriously, man. Who’s got you all down and out? You were fine before you left to take that call, now you look like someone kicked your dog.”

Fanboy leaned back in his chair, grinning wide. “I’ll bet it’s a girl. That’s the only thing that ever makes a guy like Jake Seresin go all soft.”

Jake shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it. “You all have way too much time on your hands, you know that?”

“Come on, Hangman, spill it,” Rooster pressed, the competitive glint in his eyes still there even after the teasing. “You’re not this distracted unless it’s something big. Or someone.”

Jake shook his head, not ready to let them in on the truth. He leaned on the pool table, picking up a cue as if nothing had changed. “It’s just family stuff, like I said. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Yeah, we’ll believe that when you stop looking like you’re about to write a country song,” Phoenix said, taking her shot and sinking a ball into the corner pocket.

The whole squad chuckled, and Jake couldn’t help but smirk at that one. “Real original, Trace.”

But despite the banter, it was clear that Jake’s head wasn’t entirely in the game. He took a lazy shot, missing a pocket he would normally nail without even thinking. Rooster raised an eyebrow at the miss, exchanging a look with Phoenix.

“Wow, you really are off your game tonight,” Rooster teased. “First you disappear for three weeks, now you can’t even make a simple shot? Whoever’s on the other end of that phone call must be something special.”

Jake leaned on the table, sighing a little as he looked at the group. “Maybe I’m just tired of carrying you guys all the time.”

“Oh, so now we’re back to old Hangman,” Payback said with a grin. “Nice to see some things don’t change.”

But even as Jake tried to join back in the banter, his heart wasn’t in it. His thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N and Ellie, to the soft rise and fall of Ellie’s chest, the way Y/N had smiled at him through the screen. It was a different kind of responsibility weighing on him now, one that made everything else seem a little less important.

Phoenix narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not buying the act. “You’re seriously going to keep us in the dark, aren’t you?”

Jake shrugged, still playing it off. “Family business, Trace. That’s all it is.”

The squad groaned in unison, but the teasing softened, and the game went on. Yet as the night wore on, Jake couldn’t quite shake that faraway look in his eyes, no matter how many jokes the others threw his way. And though they kept up the ribbing, no one pressed him for more, leaving the mystery of his absence hanging in the air, unanswered.

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[starmapz]

what you know - ch1: fallen angel || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. mutual pining. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic (attacks). mentions of difficulty eating. vomit. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 12.1k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter

You make a point of not judging a book by its cover. So, when paired with the college’s resident bad boy for the literal most important project of the year, you just nod to yourself. Of course, you’re aware of his very poor attendance record among other things you’ve heard about him. At the end of the day, the rest is all hearsay, so you’ll treat him the same as you would any other group project partner.

Searching around the lecture hall until your gaze lands on him, you shoot him a kind smile. You don’t expect him to return it, he practically always sports a disinterested or aloof expression and now is one of those times, it would seem. He’s wearing his usual oversized but fairly stylish shirt, baggy cargo pants and a leather jacket, even though it’s quite warm inside. One airpod sits in his ear, only half paying attention.

The two of you are practically polar opposites. You, who shows up to class ten minutes early, jots down every note you possibly can, and turns in projects a week early, not to mention your fairly preppy style, makes the two of you about as different as it gets. On top of that, there were moments where Sukuna would dip into a room late and you would wonder why he bothers paying for college at all. Does he even want to be here?

Turning back to your laptop, you decide you’ll set up some documents for your project to get ahead of everything and stop worrying about someone else’s life. You’ll just have to make the most of the project. Besides, Sukuna could be the best project partner you’ll ever work with.

Upon dismissal, you wait a moment for the room to clear before slinging your pale pink bag over your shoulder, holding your books to your chest and making your way up the lecture hall to where Sukuna’s seated.

“Hey, nice to meet you, I’m-”

“I know who you are,” he sighs. “I’m Sukuna.”

Rude. “Right,” you swallow, blinking twice as you attempt to clear your mind of the less than ideal first impression. “So, I was thinking since we need to analyze three paintings, I can choose one, you can choose one and we can do the work separately and then work together on the last one-”

“Sure, whatever.”

You purse your lips. That was easy. Or does he just not care? Brushing off the thought, you nod slowly. “Okay. Great,” you mumble somewhat nervously, unsure if the reason your voice is wavering is out of fear that you’re doomed from the project, or the fact that Sukuna is hardly giving you the time of day and it’s somewhat imposing.

Finding the nerve to meet his gaze, you find that it seems he’s barely paying attention. His deep near-crimson eyes accented by tattoos are trained off to the side, one hand in his pocket and the other is fiddling with an unlit cigarette. You have half a mind to wonder if he’s heard a damn thing you’ve said given the airpod still hanging from his pierced lobe.

“Do you, um,” you worry your lip between your teeth as you mentally reset to stop yourself from stammering. “Do you want to go over anything before we do our parts?”

“Nah.”

Nah? Oh my god, you’re doomed. 

“Okay. No problem. Um, why don’t we just meet after class next Friday?”

Sukuna balances the unlit cigarette between his lips, shuffling to pull out his phone and open his calendar. “Sure,” he agrees, his words muffled by the cigarette.

“Great! I think we’ll want to start working on the third piece next week so I’ll choose the first painting and get started on it and then we can choose the last painting next week,” you say, putting the date in your calendar as well. “Oh! And we should exchange numbers.”

He hums in agreement, not even giving you the time for words now but he does give you his number. Realizing you aren’t about to get anywhere else with him, you shoot him a wry smile and make your way out the door.

Oh Shoko is so gonna hear about this.

–

Before you know it, next Friday comes around and when you turn your gaze to where Sukuna usually sits, you realize he just isn’t there.

Well that’s… lovely.

Leaning forward on your elbows, you groan with your face in your hands. This project was sure to be a nightmare at this rate. You could already see yourself going to talk to the professor about how Sukuna hadn’t done an ounce of work and it was all done by you.

Opening your laptop, you stare at the document you’d put together for Persistence of Memory, which may be an obvious choice but you love the painting too much to choose a different one.

Maybe you should just choose the third one on your own.

Maybe you should just choose the second one on your own…

Fuck.

You sigh, glancing back at Sukuna’s empty seat once more, and to your surprise just as you begin to give up hope upon seeing his seat empty, he ambles through the door in an oversized hoodie and sweats as though the lecture didn’t end fifteen minutes ago.

His gaze meets yours and he tilts his chin upwards at you, a silent message for you to take a seat near him.

Gathering your belongings, you take your laptop over to him, setting it on the table beside him in the mostly-empty lecture hall.

“Hey,” you greet him, receiving a grunt in response. “I was starting to think you were gonna flake out on me,” you joke with a somewhat nervous laugh when you meet his striking gaze. His disinterested eyes bore into you as he examines your nervous expression, and it’s then that you notice that- “are you okay?”

He sighs, heavy with exasperation, running a hand over his sharp features. His hair is still damp, not spiked up as usual as it hangs over his forehead, he has dark circles that make him look like he hasn’t slept in years, and his leg is shaking up and down like he’s got somewhere else to be.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, unimpressed that you’ve noticed how horribly disheveled he looks, but he brushes it off. “You got somethin’ to show me?”

“I, um-” you pause, casting him one last uncertain glance at the fact that oh my god, he looks sick? “Yeah, so I chose a Salvador Dalì piece,” you tell him, nudging your laptop towards him so that he can see your analysis.

He casts a glance at it, and it’s then that you realize that he doesn’t seem to have a laptop on him. Hm.

He seems to have noticed your confusion as he pulls out his phone, fiddling with it for a moment or two before setting it in front of you. “Had to do something before our meeting, so I don’t have my computer right now, but here’s what I’ve got so far.”

You flash him a curious glance before staring at his phone screen, reading through his notes quietly. The Fallen Angel painted by Alexandre Cabanel. You can’t say you’re shocked, but it’s a good choice. His analysis is short and needs more detail, but it’s a good start and fairly insightful. Sukuna lacks elegance with his words, but this is just the research phase anyway. Okay, not a bad start.

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

To your surprise, although he’s mostly quiet, he gives you some input on your analysis and hums in agreement when you ask him to write a bit more in certain areas to match your research. He doesn’t even seem that bothered by it, only mildly inconvenienced. You would almost argue that he was agreeable if you couldn’t feel the side-eye you were receiving from him.

When you finally settle on C. Allan Gilbert’s All is Vanity for your final piece, Sukuna excuses himself quite quickly and makes his way out, grunting in agreement when you ask him to meet you at the same time next week. You had hoped to get some research done with him but this would have to do, and hopefully you would have more time next week.

Only… when next week comes, he doesn’t show. You lean over the desk where Sukuna usually sits, figuring maybe he’s just late again, but as the clock rolls past the thirty minute mark, you begin to lose hope. Tapping your fingers rhythmically over the desk as you stare at the clock, you resign to texting him.

3:39 PM || You: hey! just wondering if youre on your way

Another twenty minutes of staring at the sent text does you no good and you can’t really get much done without Sukuna’s portion, so with a sigh, you push yourself up and call Shoko to go out with you. At least now you can make the most of your Friday night, even if it’s a bit earlier than intended.

–

“He just completely no-showed, huh?”

“Not even a text,” you confirm with a groan, keeping your attention on the road as you make your way to the bar by Shoko’s house. The afternoon sun glints on the windshield of your car, warming the interior of the vehicle rather comfortably for the early autumn day.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Shoko hums at the thought.

“I really wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, I mean honestly his research wasn’t too bad,” you sigh, casting a glance at your best friend.

“Could still be salvageable. Maybe try asking him what works for him?” She suggests with a shrug, leaning back in her seat as she stares blankly out the windshield.

“I don’t know. I think if I leave things up to him, he just won’t do it.”

“Oh, because he’s been so good at showing up when you organize things?” She chides with a raised brow.

You suppose you can’t really argue with that, so you groan in response. “At least he has a good taste in art.”

“Yeah?”

“A little edgy, but yeah. He chose The Fallen Angel, you know the one that-” you pause, moving your arm over your face to mimic the famous painting while keeping your eyes on the road and one hand on the wheel.

“Oh yeah, I think I know the one,” she agrees with a chuckle at your description. “I think I’ve seen-” she pauses as your car comes to a slow halt at a stop light. You shoot her a questioning glance when she remains quiet. “Speak of the devil. Isn’t that him?”

“Sukuna?” You question, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of whatever Shoko’s looking at.

Sure enough, the pink-haired man in question is on the sidewalk along with two young kids. He seems frustrated, his hand flying in the air in obvious exasperation and you wonder what his relation to them is. Your first thought is that they could be his, but the older of the two kids is just a bit too old to make that assumption.

Still, you didn’t take Sukuna as someone enthusiastic at the thought of being a babysitter.

“Shit, that is him,” Shoko confirms for herself. When the light turns green, the car jolts forward as you pull through a lane abruptly to turn and grab street parking very suddenly. “Woah, what are you-? You can’t be serious.”

“I-” your words die in your throat. Are you serious? What are you doing? It’s not like you’re friends. Are you here to confront him about not showing up? No, you aren’t really even mad, just frustrated at most. Your mind flashes back to how he’d looked the week before, like he could pass out at any moment, and you wonder if you’re here out of concern. “I don’t know,” you mumble, parking your car and hopping out.

“You are serious,” she mutters more to herself than you as she watches you leave the car with a sigh, following a short distance behind you.

The day is relatively warm for the early fall, the sun shining high overhead and providing a comfortable escape from the brisk breeze. Leaves are losing their vibrant green colors overhead, replaced with beautiful hues of yellows, oranges, and reds, and the sound of them rustling in the breeze is refreshing.

From around the corner, you can just barely make out Sukuna’s words. You were right to assume he was frustrated.

“Give it back to your brother,” he instructs, his voice a near-growl, but as the younger of the two kids whines in complaint, you can tell neither kid seems all that intimidated even by the almost seven-foot-tall man made of pure muscle who towers over them.

“No!”

“C’mon brat, I don’t have time for this,” he hisses out, voice rife with irritation. As you round the corner, lightly jogging up to Sukuna, you watch his gaze slowly turn to land on you and Shoko, his eyes widening for a moment as his expression shifts to surprise. For a moment you even think you see horror flash through his eyes, but he masks it all with his usual disinterested expression before you have time to think much about it.

“Sukuna?”

“That’s me,” he grumbles, running a hand through his tousled hair in exasperation.

“Hi! I’m Yuji!” The younger of the two boys bounds up to you, blatantly ignoring Sukuna as he waves to Shoko behind you.

You grin at him, kneeling down to his height as you greet him with your name. His eyes are filled with delight and as you get back to your feet, you put the pieces together. These must be Sukuna’s little brothers. Although the older of the two doesn’t particularly look like him, the youngest is a near carbon copy of Sukuna, only lacking his tattoos, piercings, and his signature attitude.

“What a cutie,” you coo at the little boy, who can’t be any older than five. The older of the two boys doesn’t resemble Sukuna in the same way Yuji does, with sunken eyes and unkempt long brown hair, he looks to be about eleven… and he also looks like he’s about to burst into tears.

“Don’t feed his ego,” Sukuna huffs, watching you interact with Yuji with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Look! Look!” Yuji excitedly holds his hands out to you. You recognize an old GameBoy in his hands, something you’re sure you have hidden away somewhere in your own apartment from your childhood.

“I had one of those when I was young,” you tell him, glancing up at Sukuna whose left brow slowly raises.

“Really? Do you like Pokemon?”

“Yuji, that’s enough. Leave her alone and give it back to your brother,” Sukuna instructs, his frustration laced within his words.

“No! Choso’s playing it wrong,” he argues.

Sukuna looks like he’s about to burst. If he were a balloon, he’d be floating dangerously close to a pin, and it’s in that moment that you finally get a good look at him. If you thought he looked sickly last week, he looks like he’s about to collapse now.

His eyes are sunken, skin pale, and although he’s making an effort to mask it, his focus seems as though it’s drifting while he simply stands there. His hair is disheveled in a way that doesn’t look intentional and there’s a stain on the abdomen of his shirt. Which, to your surprise, is also a uniform for a local food distribution warehouse. He’s wearing cargo pants, steel-toed boots, and a blue polo shirt. It’s a strange look for him, but you’re more concerned about the fact that he seems to be swaying, he’s so tired.

“I wasn’t playing it wrong!” Choso argues back, leaping at his brother as they get into a scuffle, and it’s barely a split second before Yuji is in tears alongside Choso.

“Fucking-” Sukuna cuts himself off, taking a step forward.

Instinctively, you step in before Sukuna needs to. “Hey, hey!” You coo softly, leaning back down to them. “Why don’t you both play together?” Yuji’s sobs don’t stop at your suggestion, although Choso backs away from the younger boy, listening to what you have to say with a heartbreakingly sad expression over something so simple. Life was so much easier at their age.

“How?” Yuji asks through sobs.

“Why don’t you take turns? It’s Pokemon, right?” You ask, earning a nod from Yuji as he sniffles and wipes his face, his sleeve absolutely covered in tears and snot already. “Why don’t you pass it over between each battle?”

Yuji stares at you skeptically, as though the little boy cannot possibly fathom sharing. Choso quietly waits for his brother to come to a conclusion as his sniffles subside, all the while Sukuna just watches the entire scene unfold with a furrowed brow.

“Okay,” Yuji finally agrees in a small voice. “But I go first!”

To your surprise, Choso seems fine with this as they both crowd around the game.

When you stand back up, you’re happy to find that Sukuna looks absolutely relieved.

“Fuck, thought I’d never hear the end of that,” he mumbles, making you wonder if that’s his begrudging way of thanking you.

You chuckle quietly, crossing your arms over your chest with a small shrug. “I’m good with kids,” you tell him. He eyes you for a moment, humming, but doesn’t say anything. After a brief silence, you glance back up at him to find the tall man’s tired gaze still boring into you.

“Ask,” he instructs.

Your brow raises. “Ask?”

“You wanna ask where I was today, right?”

That obvious, huh? “I did wait for an hour.”

A hint of a smirk graces his lips as he snidely comments, “y’know, I’m sure I’ve had other women wait longer.” You aren’t sure how he expects you to react, but the way you raise a brow and don’t entertain his lewd implications clearly doesn’t encourage him to continue. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he clicks his tongue and turns his head away from you. “Had to pick up a shift at work. Was gonna text but the little brat broke my phone yesterday.”

“Sorry, Kuna,” Yuji’s voice is small as you realize he’s been listening the whole time now that Choso is holding the GameBoy. His cheeks are puffy and red still from crying, but god he sure is a mini Sukuna.

“Kunaaaa?” You coo teasingly at the absolutely adorable nickname.

“He can’t say my name,” Sukuna grumbles, suppressing his irritation as best as he can, given that you did save him from further arguments with his brothers and he did already test his limits with you anyway. Still, his nose wrinkles in distaste at the nickname as he stares at the ground with a huff.

“That’s so cute!” You practically squeal, eyes bright as you grin at the hulking mass of anger and maybe even embarrassment as his cheeks heat up before your eyes.

“Shut up,” he hisses, still avoiding your gaze.

“It’s alright, by the way. We can figure out another time to meet.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll text-” he cuts himself off, blinking at the realization that he has no phone. “I’ll email you or some shit.”

“Email. Right,” you sarcastically tease with a tilt of your head. A muscle in Sukuna’s jaw visibly twitches and he huffs.

“Take it or leave it.”

You raise your hands in the air defensively, unable to help your amused smile. As silence falls over the both of you, interrupted only by Choso’s quiet commentary to Yuji about their game, you let your expression morph to one of concern again. Your lips part to ask if Sukuna’s alright, but he beats you to it.

“I’m fine.” His voice is low and strained and you both know you don’t believe him.

“You look it,” you challenge him sarcastically.

Sukuna’s jaw tenses as he stares you down as if daring you to challenge him again. Luckily for him, you’re willing to let it go.

“Do you guys need a ride somewhere?” You ask, glancing back in the direction of your car. Shoko is probably itching to get to the bar, though surely she won’t mind your offer given that the man in front of you looks like he could melt into a puddle if it only meant he could sleep.

“No.”

“Yeah!”

Sukuna and Yuji stare at one another as they both respond at the same time.

“No. We’re fine,” Sukuna growls, narrowing his eyes at the young boy.

“I don’t wanna walk anymooooore,” Yuji complains, shooting Choso a pleading look. Catching on, Choso shoots Sukuna a pair of puppy dog eyes. God the two of them are just adorable.

“No, both of you. Cut it out. Now.” Sukuna’s voice drops an octave as he hisses the last word.

“I really don’t mind,” you say quietly, leaning closer to him in an attempt to keep your words between the two of you.

“I don’t need your help,” Sukuna protests, taking a step towards you with massive muscular arms folding over his chest as his polo shirt is pulled taut from the movement.

“So if I give you a little push, you won’t fall over and pass out?”

“No.” He scowls defensively as he stares back at his two brothers, not noticing the way you slowly reach your hand out before shoving him lightly. He sways backwards slightly, catching himself before he actually does fall over as he swats at your hand. “Fucking- What the fuck is wrong with you?” He grouses, voice dripping with irritation and anger, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. He just looks tired.

“Let me drive you where you need to go and I’ll stop,” you taunt, moving your hand forward to shove him again.

Now paying attention, he grabs your wrist before you can push him. “Christ, you’re almost as much of a brat as my brothers,” he huffs, fiery eyes hyper-focused on your cheerful demeanor in spite of the fact that he’s been nothing short of snappy with you since you first showed up. “You’ll stop because I said so, not because I’m agreeing, got that?”

You shrug, shooting him a smile that says you won. “Whatever you say, Sukuna.”

He drops your wrist with a dramatic sigh before ushering his brothers after you as you turn to make your way back to your car.

“Can’t say I know what just happened,” Shoko whispers in your ear as she walks alongside you to your car. “But I’m surprised he agreed.”

“I’m not. He’s barely awake,” you tell her as you both cast a glance back at him. He doesn’t seem to notice as he bickers with his brothers, telling them to keep up if they want a ride from you.

“Yeah, he looks like shit,” she chuckles with a shake of her head. Never one to beat around the bush, but she is right.

Unlocking your car, you open the back door as Sukuna lifts his youngest brother into the backseat, grumbling about the two boys needing to behave before he climbs in himself, completely blocking your view through your rearview mirror.

He huffs and puffs as he gives you his address, choosing not to say a word throughout the ride as he listens to you chat with Shoko, muttering only the occasional “cut it out” or “stop that, brat” to one of his brothers.

Rolling up to what you assume is his apartment, you put the car in park and turn your attention back to the boys, putting on your best radio voice.

“Thank you for riding, please exit to your left and have a greeeeeat day!” You earn a sweet laugh from Yuji and a calm smile from Choso for your antics. You can practically feel Sukuna’s exasperation as it comes off of him in waves, clearly done with the world for the day, but you don’t miss the silent relief gleaming in his eyes.

“What do you say?” Sukuna gruffs, nudging the youngest of his brothers who you’re obviously putting on the show for.

“Thank you, miss!” He grins brightly as Sukuna opens the door and lowers him to the ground. He hands Choso a pair of keys, nudging them along to the door of the run-down building. To your surprise, he shuts the door and comes around to your side, knocking on the window.

You tilt your head as you roll down the window.

“Thanks…” he trails off as though the word is sour on his tongue, shooting a glance at Shoko in a silent gesture of thank you to her as well.

“No problem. Go get some sleep,” you tell him softly. Frustration flashes through his eyes as you tell him what to do but he’s not about to lash out at the person responsible for his grade who also gave him a ride home. Even he’s not that much of an asshole.

He sets a hand on your hood, pausing for a moment before he runs a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up more than it already was. “Do me a favor and don’t mention this to anyone, yeah?”

You tilt your head, exchanging a glance with Shoko as he looks between the two of you. “Yeah. No problem.”

His hand slides off your car as he rounds the vehicle to follow after his brothers. He pauses to cast a glance at you, before pushing into the front lobby of his apartment building and out of sight.

Silence falls over both you and Shoko as you watch the tattooed man disappear into the building when Choso holds the door open for him.

“That was fucking weird,” Shoko comments.

“Hm?” You hum as you pull out of the apartment, unsure of what she means. Of course Sukuna would have a life Shoko had never thought about, it’s not like they were close, you aren’t sure what she was expecting.

“He wasn’t a complete dick.”

Shooting Shoko a confused glance, you purse your lips. “Is he known for that? I thought he was just a bit of a delinquent.”

“Yeah, that too, but he’s pretty well-known for being snappy with people and snarky to profs.”

“Oh,” you blink twice in thought, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t know. He’s pretty quiet in Art History, this project is the first time I’ve ever talked to him. I figured I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Huh,” Shoko shrugs, “guess you’re on his good side, then.” She sighs, leaning back in her seat once again. “Oh well, you have blackmail on him anyway, so there’s no way he’s bailing on you now,” she grins with a teasing smirk.

Your eyes widen and you move your elbow to nudge her. “Absolutely not, and don’t you think about it either!”

Shoko chuckles, though you know she wouldn’t anyway. Much like you, she’s too kind to spill Sukuna’s secrets to the school, regardless of her opinions or thoughts on him.

–

As you return home from the bar late that night with a comfortable buzz that had left you needing to keep your car at the bar overnight, you pour yourself a glass of water and open your laptop on your bed, letting it boot up while you change into an oversized cozy beige hoodie with little bows adorning the sleeves.

Pulling the sleeves of the hoodie down over your hands and throwing on a pair of shorts, you run a hand through your hair and log into your laptop, pulling it onto your lap to browse social media, when something catches your eye.

You don’t pay much attention to your email inbox most of the time. Maybe you should, after all the college sends you a fair amount of emails and you’ve missed some in the past, but what catches your eye is certainly not from the faculty.

It’s a response to the document you sent Sukuna via email last week.

Oh shit, he was serious about sending you an email.

Maybe it’s because you're drunk, or maybe it’s because the idea of the nearly seven foot tall tattooed man who you’d watched leave class once just to smoke sending you an email of all things is a truly funny thought, but you snicker to yourself as you open it.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Saturday, 1:17 AM hey. you around this weekend

Your snicker turns to a full laugh as you read the message. You can’t decide if the message feels like a sad attempt at a booty call, an old man attempting to text via email, or an embarrassing attempt to save his bruised ego since he can’t text you.

You’d learned from Shoko at the bar earlier that Sukuna has quite the reputation. Supposedly he’s known for bringing a woman home at every party, for being able to smooth talk his way into the bedroom in spite of his usually grumpy and ill-mannered demeanor, and for being able to always get what he wants even though he has a reputation for being an asshole. So it’s hard not to laugh when that same man is the one who just sent you the most awkward email. At one in the morning. On a Saturday.

Oh my god.

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Saturday, 2:12 AM Hey Sukuna! I’m around tomorrow afternoon and all day Sunday. Did you have time to work on the project?

You hit send and shut your laptop, deciding to brush your teeth and begin getting ready to get some rest. Taking off your makeup and brushing your hair, you finish up your nighttime routine and decide on a whim to see if your project partner has responded to you.

Getting under the covers and leaning against the headboard of your bed, you open your laptop again. To your surprise, your inbox has gone up by one.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Saturday, 2:19 AM cool. come by mine tomorrow whenever

You snicker to yourself as you read the message again. He’s certainly not fighting either the sad booty call or old man texting via email allegations.

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Saturday, 2:23 AM Had to leave my car at the bar, did you wanna come by my place?

To your surprise, it’s only a couple of minutes later when he replies.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Saturday, 2:25 AM uhhh i gotta watch over the brats

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Saturday, 2:26 AM Bring them!! They’re so cute :)

You can practically feel his irritated grumbles through the screen when not even a minute later he responds.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Saturday, 2:26 AM fine. address and time

With a satisfied smile, you let him know to drop by at two in the afternoon and send him your address before shutting your laptop.

As you lay down in bed, you can’t help but wonder what a strange little world you’ve somehow managed to squeeze your way into. Sukuna’s world. Maybe it’s because he’s easy to tease, maybe it’s the undeniable fact that he’s a good looking guy, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s actually surprised you more than once now and you’re somewhat enjoying the project more than you initially thought you would, but you can’t help but find yourself fascinated by him.

Come to think of it, you wonder if maybe Shoko’s comment has something to do with it. You think back to the way that she mentioned that he was oddly agreeable and, well, not a dick, and you wonder if it’s a curiosity to get to know this side of Sukuna that no one seems to know that compels you to be laying in bed at two in the morning thinking about the situation.

Regardless, you fall asleep with a calm little smile.

–

Glancing at the clock, you have half a mind to wonder if Sukuna will actually show up. Sure, he was the one who reached out, but maybe you should have just bussed to your car rather than waiting on Shoko to drive you to it and gone to his place on your own given that you can’t text him to ask where he is and it’s almost two thirty in the afternoon.

You could email him.

No… no. You aren’t about to email him.

You almost laugh to yourself at the thought.

Returning to your coffee, you keep at your work, refining your notes until you have something you think you can confidently write a full thesis about, when finally there’s a buzz at your door.

Speak of the devil. You buzz him up and there's a knock at your apartment door a few moments later.

“Cut that out,” Sukuna hisses practically the moment you open the door. You raise a brow at him and he sighs. “The brat, not you,” he clarifies, nudging Yuji.

You shoot him a sweet smile, suppressing a chuckle. Sukuna is dressed in a leather jacket, a white V-Neck and a pair of ripped jeans. In comparison to his usual baggy cargo pants and hoodie, he almost seems like he’s dressed up a bit and you can’t help but smile at the thought. More importantly though, the dark circles beneath his eyes are just a bit faded in comparison to when you had spotted him yesterday and you can tell he was able to get a bit of rest.

Yuji is excitedly looking up at you and attempting to tug on Sukuna’s hand while Choso stands behind his brother silently, his expression neutral.

“Hey guys, c’mon in.” You grin as you open the door for them, watching Yuji bound in ahead of his older brothers. He begins looking around with wide eyes, so full of wonder and excitement that you can’t help but smile.

“Such sweet kids,” you comment as Sukuna stands beside you, sighing as both brothers practically run to the sofa, looking around your little apartment excitedly.

“Yeah, whatever.”

You giggle at Sukuna, nudging him playfully. The glare he shoots you as he grunts seems to lack the usual malice his expressions hold and he runs a hand through his well-groomed hair, motioning for you to lead the way.

You show him to your little desk at the back of the apartment, pulling up a kitchen chair for yourself as you give him your office chair. He silently obliges, sitting down with his legs spread.

“One moment,” you mumble, heading into your room briefly before reappearing with none other than your old GameBoy, complete with a copy of Pokemon Ruby. Sukuna’s gaze is tethered to you and although his expression doesn’t change, you see surprise flash across his crimson irises as you walk up to the boys, kneeling in front of them.

“Choso, do you want to use my old GameBoy?” You ask the brown-haired young man, holding it out to him. His eyes are wide with surprise as Yuji’s jaw drops open. Choso nods, not saying a word as he flips the device and eyes the game. If it’s even possible, his eyes widen further and he smiles shyly.

“Are you sure?”

“More than sure. I bet there’s some neat Pokemon on that file,” you tell him.

The two boys exchange a grin and Choso thanks you profusely as he turns on the system.

“No problem. There’s a TV in my room, why don’t you two hang out in there and you don’t need to listen to your brother and I talk about boring art, hm?”

Yuji nods excitedly, bounding to his feet and grabbing your hand. Your heart swells at the action as you lead him and Choso to your room and hand them the remote. It takes all of a moment for both of them to begin bickering about what to watch, though you notice their arguments are fairly one-sided, with Choso being much quieter than his younger brother.

Leaving the two of them to their own devices, you make your way back out to Sukuna, who’s set his laptop on your desk and draped his jacket over the back of his chair. He’s wearing a white band tee with a deep V-neck for a metal band you aren’t familiar with, though the sleeves are torn off. With arms crossed over his chest and tattooed muscular arms on display, it’s undeniable just how attractive he is.

The real surprise is when he turns his head to look at you and his sharp eyes are, strangely, filled with… well you aren’t quite sure. Uncertainty? Confusion?

You subtly tilt your head when you take a seat on the kitchen chair beside him. His chair spins to face you as he examines you.

“Is something wrong?”

Sukuna’s adam's apple bobs as he swallows, before shaking his head. “Nah. Let’s just get this shit over with,” he grumbles, opening his laptop and turning his research document towards you. He’s clearly taken a look at yours, because his notes are in a similar format and he has about as much written as you, not to mention he’s put some work into research on the third painting you two had chosen.

Your brows raise as you read through it. “Wow, this is really good.”

He scoffs. “Don’t sound so shocked.”

You chuckle in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to come off that way, I just-” you pause, leaning back in your chair. Aside from the subtle sounds of Pokemon and the TV in the background, the only sound that breaks the silence as you pause is the squeaking of your chair. “I don’t know. When you were late and then you just didn’t show up, I…” you trail off, not wanting to accuse him of something that clearly isn’t true.

“You assumed the worst.”

Your mouth opens but any words you had in your defense die on your tongue, casting your glance to the side as you search for something, anything, to explain your thought process. No matter what way you try to word it, you’re definitely the bad guy here.

“It’s fine. Everyone does.”

Your brow furrows but before you can ask what he means, Choso is surprising you as he taps on your arm. You turn your attention to the young boy, who’s looking up at you with gleaming eyes.

“You have Rayquaza,” he states, arms outstretched to show you a serpentine creature on the GameBoy.

Your curiosity twists to easy mirth as you smile at him. “I guess I do, huh?”

Choso’s arms fall back down in front of him as he stares down at the Pokemon. His eyes flicker up to you briefly, then back down. “You have Groudon too.”

You can’t help your amused laugh. He’s such a sweet and shy little boy, but he talks just like Sukuna. Straight to the point, blunt, and rather short. He may not look like Sukuna like Yuji does, but his speech is just like his older brother’s.

“Leave her alone,” Sukuna mumbles gruffly from beside you. Choso smiles up at him before bounding back to your room. You can hear the two of them gearing up to play the games together from across the apartment, the game’s music heard in mismatched double as they both turn up the volume.

Turning back to Sukuna, your trail of thought is completely gone. “What was I saying?”

“You got any music? The brat’s game’s been drivin’ me crazy,” Sukuna mutters. “Yuji broke my laptop’s speakers,” he sighs.

“He’s on a hot streak for breaking things, huh?” You giggle.

“Don’t get me started.”

You turn in your seat, pointing towards the wall where a table sits with a fairly nice record player on it, and a shelf of records. They’re organized by artist and their sleeves range from new-looking to clearly well-loved.

Getting to his feet, Sukuna follows to where you point, curiously staring at the spines of the records. He’s not exactly shocked by most of the choices, but a few of them do stand out to him, and you’re thankful when you hear him sliding something off the shelf and putting it on the player.

You recognize the melody in the air instantly, and grin when Sukuna sits down beside you again. “The Eagles?”

Sukuna doesn’t move as his eyes slowly trail to you. He hums after a moment. “It’s a good album. You have… alright taste.”

In truth, he doesn’t mind your taste in music. Sure, he may not be fond of all of your choices, many in fact, but it would seem the two of you are making a habit out of surprising one another as he has his next album choice in mind already.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckle at his dry attempt at being nice. The corner of Sukuna’s lips twitches up into a hint of a smile. It suits him.

As Hotel California blankets the air in warm strings and simple drum beats, the two of you are able to get a good amount of work done, putting your research together into one well-written and coherent thesis, one to be proud of.

Of course, you still need to put together an actual visual presentation to go with the thesis to be presented, but at least the bulk of the work is over with and you can feel confident in your project without concern anymore.

You have half a mind to get started on the visual portion now as well to get it all finished, but one glance at Sukuna tells you he’s tapped out, and either way you’ve gone through three records at this point as the final track on a Pink Floyd album comes to a close.

As silence falls over your project group, Sukuna lets out a sigh. It’s fairly dark in the room too as the sun sets, and when you check the clock to find it’s already six, you realize that’s likely why your stomach’s been making noises for the last twenty minutes.

“Why don’t you guys all stay for dinner?” You suggest, mostly out of politeness, but you can’t help but feel as though you’re drawn to him. You want to get to know him, know why he’s late so often, why he stays in school just to not show up for classes when it’s his money being blown. After all, it can’t just be his brothers or work, he likely only takes care of them while his parents are at work, surely.

Sukuna wearily glances between you and the door where his little brothers are, before shaking his head. “Nah, I can just make us somethin’ when we get back.”

“I insist,” you grin at him, watching the way a muscle twitches in jaw. “There are some great places nearby, we can just grab takeout while they play games, we’ll only be gone for a moment.”

He remains silent, arms crossed disdainfully over his chest before grimacing, giving in to your overly kind grin.

You settle on a curry restaurant just down the block and grab the boys’ orders, letting them know you’ll be right back. You’re sure you can trust Choso to look after his younger brother for twenty minutes.

As the chilly evening air hits your face, you let out a content hum, peering curiously back to see Sukuna falling into step with you. The two of you are a sight to behold, your appearance preppy and sweet decorated with autumnal colors fitting for the season, while he’s clad in leather and punk attire, the tones of his clothing purely grayscale.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, keeping his mild gaze locked in front of him.

“How old are they, your brothers?”

“Five and twelve,” Sukuna replies, fighting off a yawn and failing.

Amused, you smile up at him. “I’m glad you got some rest last night. I was worried about you.”

His brow twitches as he meets your kind smile. “Worried? About me?” He shoots you an incredulous look, scoffing. When you pout at him, he’s unable to hold back a smirk. It’s the first time you’ve seen him truly at ease and now that you’re alone with him, you notice that he actually seems to be somewhat relaxed.

“Yeah, maybe I was. Shoot me,” you shrug, playfully rolling your eyes.

He snorts, entertained, growing silent although the air that settles over you is comfortable now. Sukuna’s presence is surprisingly calming now that he isn’t constantly regarding you with disinterested gazes and irritated huffs. His expressions remain mild, but his brooding is more infrequent and the tension in his gruff voice has dulled. You would almost think he likes being around you.

As you come up to the curry restaurant, you lean into Sukuna with a point of your finger, silently telling him to enter the restaurant to your right. He pulls the door open for you, trailing closely behind. The atmosphere of the restaurant is busy, the employees behind the counter moving quickly to fulfill orders. Sukuna can only imagine how good the food must be given the line waiting to order, though you assure him it won’t take long.

He casts a glance up at the menu and frowns as he takes in the prices. He can afford to pay for himself, Yuji, and Choso, but not you. He has half a mind to say something, but his pride causes him to choke on the words. He inconspicuously pulls out his phone to take a look at his bank app to see if he can swing anything, but catches a glimpse of an employee not paying attention as he moves quickly towards you, all the while you’re not paying attention either, idly staring at the menu.

The employee about to barrel into you is holding a massive steel bucket and while Sukuna can’t see what’s inside, he doesn’t love the idea of you covered in water or worse.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, he lowers himself slightly, locking a strong arm around your middle and lifting you off the ground. You yelp in surprise, eyes wide as you latch onto his arm for purchase, head whipping around in confusion until you find the employee now walking past the exact spot you were in with boiling hot oil in a bucket.

Your lips purse, a shiver running from the base of your spine up to your nape just as Sukuna drops you to the ground unceremoniously in front of him. Your heels land with a clack on the ground as you catch your balance, your eyes still trailing after the employee that hadn’t been able to see you over the jug of hot oil they carried.

“Pay attention,” he scolds you with a frown.

“Oh my god,” you mutter mostly to yourself, your heart beating out of your chest as you finally look up at your savior. Your eyes flicker down to his arms. Even covered in leather, the way his muscles ripple beneath the fabric with each movement he makes doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Thank you, S’kuna.”

He shoves his hands in his pocket, nodding. The way you abbreviate his name is painfully close to the nickname he avoids as much as he can, but he can’t bring himself to correct you and in all honesty, he’s not sure why. He lets it slide, clearing his throat as he clears his mind of the way the name seems to shake him.

“Don’t make a habit of it.”

His words feel like they should be scolding, but his tone doesn’t hold the same meaning. As he stares back up at the menu with a stitch in his horribly handsome brow, you can’t help but find yourself confused by the meaning of his words.

You don’t have much time to think about it as your turn to order comes and you find yourself at the counter, giving the employee your order before glancing back at Sukuna. His mouth parts and he hesitates.

“I- uh-”

You’ve never seen him dither in such a way and you tilt your head, blinking in confusion.

“I can’t-”

Frustration flashes through his eyes and you can see his jaw clench as he trips over his words. Flustered isn’t the right word, but his pride is certainly hurt as he finally manages to force out the explanation you need.

“I can’t afford to- uh-”

Again he pauses, his expression burning with irritation as his cheeks heat up, the admission coming at the cost of his ego.

Your face softens in understanding and your soft fingers wrap around his tattooed wrist, pulling him up to the counter.

“I’ve got it. I invited you to stay, it’s on me.” You hold your card out with a kind smile, but Sukuna doesn’t share your sentiment, anger flashing across the crimson of his eyes as he grits his teeth at you.

“I don’t need help,” he hisses, eyes narrowed as his walls go back up right before you.

“That’s not-” your eyes widen as you try to salvage the situation when Sukuna recoils suddenly. You hadn’t intended for him to take your words so personally, you’d just felt it was the right thing to do given that you had invited not only him, but both of his brothers over as well, and suggested the place to begin with. “You can get the next one,” you tell him in hopes of mending the bridge between you.

He examines your expression, finding no traces of malice or ill-will in your features. Frowning, he huffs as he turns to give his order to the poor employee who’d had the displeasure of witnessing Sukuna’s outburst. In his silence, you order for his little brothers as well.

With a dour sigh, the tattooed man moves along to the side to wait for the order, the fact that you paid leaving a sour taste in his mouth. You make your way over to him, leaving a small distance between you.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine.”

“Really, I- I-” you stumble over your words as he glares at you. You suppose Shoko had warned you that Sukuna was notoriously an ass, but you hadn’t witnessed it first hand until now. Still, you can’t help but feel like what you’re witnessing isn’t that. At the end of the day he isn’t lashing out for no reason, it’s clear you struck a nerve and you can’t blame him for being hurt by it, even if it’s not what you intended and you don’t fully understand where he’s coming from.

“Drop it,” Sukuna growls, though his anger has subsided somewhat, his gaze cast to the wall.

You blink up at him, hating the way the world seems to hold its breath around you.

You can’t deny that the man who towers over you, covered in tattoos and piercings is intimidating. Between his gruff voice, his mild mannerisms and his disinterested demeanor, he’s tough to read and you really can’t afford to let a rift come between you when you still have to work on your project.

Your lips part to say something but one striking glance from those crimson eyes has the words dying in your throat. Your mouth goes dry as you wrack your brain for anything to stay, but draw a blank.

Sukuna’s brow knits together at the sight of your anxious expression and he shuts his eyes for a moment, sighing.

It takes him a moment to fully cool off and collect his thoughts, but he can see in your eyes that you genuinely meant no harm and he supposes it’s the right thing to do to give you a break for that. You’re just naturally kind and he finds that he needs to remind himself of that.

“It’s… fine,” he murmurs in a strained voice, nudging you with his elbow. You crack a smile at him, thankful when his body language seems to relax somewhat again.

You don’t dare say anything as you wait for your food, fiddling with your phone in your hands as you contemplate his reaction. You obviously hurt his pride unintentionally by offering to pay, but between skipping school for work and the fact that this restaurant isn’t by any means expensive, you have a guess as to why he might have been so affected, one that makes Sukuna’s entire demeanor and his exhaustion click into place like a puzzle.

Before you have a chance to ask him, unsure if you even want to, your name is called and Sukuna is grabbing your order. You reach out to grab one of the bags but Sukuna swiftly holds it overhead with a smirk that doesn’t quite meet his eyes as you pout playfully. He continues to hold the food overhead as he leads the way outside. Watching you trail closely behind him, standing up on your tiptoes in an attempt to reach the bags, he raises a brow.

“Walk, brat.”

You shoot him a look, brow furrowed, before giving in and falling into step alongside him. He brings his arms down, holding the bags on his arms opposite you.

With your mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Sukuna’s earlier outburst, you bring your lower lip between your teeth, mindlessly chewing on it as you stare at the sidewalk beneath your feet.

Sukuna eyes you from his peripherals, taking note of the way you’re deep in thought. “Just fucking ask your question.”

Much like yesterday, Sukuna easily notices the way you glance at him uncertainly, the question on the tip of your tongue. It catches you off-guard how easily he reads you and you fall out of step with him, taking longer strides to catch up after you falter.

“I- um- do you-” you hesitate, casting a glance at his aloof expression. He seems at ease again and you don’t want to burn the bridge you’ve only just managed to mend, out of fear that another fire wouldn’t be put out so easily.

“Yeah.”

You stop in your tracks, blinking in surprise with pursed lips. Sukuna raises a brow at you, only a short distance ahead as he stops too, turning to face you. You can’t read his expression as it remains mild, his questioning brow the only sign that gives away any hint of his thoughts. In a few short strides, you’re back at his side.

“You’re… their guardian?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Sukuna chews on his tongue piercing mindlessly as he watches the gears turn in your mind, putting together the pieces of the puzzle that had been laid out for you.

Of course Sukuna’s tired if he’s taking care of two young boys, going to college, working, cooking, cleaning, god the list can only go on. You wonder if the reason he seems so at ease right now, so quick to forgive you, is because he’s thankful for the break. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s had time to himself.

“That’s why you missed yesterday.”

He shrugs. “You knew that already.”

“I guess, yeah.” Your turn to shrug. “I just thought it was a temporary thing.”

Sukuna lets out a humorless laugh. “Well it’s not.”

You’re not really sure how to react, in all honesty. You don’t want him to think you pity him, you can’t offer sympathy, you certainly can’t offer help. In your uncertainty, you find yourself continuing to fiddle with your phone, avoiding his gaze.

Sukuna quite simply… turns to leave, deciding to spare you of your discomfort, and him of any more blows to his pride. You jog after him, falling into step again. There are questions left unanswered and sympathies you want to extend, but you can’t bear the thought of hurting him again, even if it’s unintentional, so you bite your tongue.

The sounds of the city surround you, filling the silence. Sirens blare in the distance, trees rustle above you, and casual chatter comes and goes as you pass other groups of people on the way to your apartment. It’s all a welcome distraction as you continue to fiddle with your phone, the air between you two neither tense nor comfortable. It lies somewhere in between and you don’t dare tip the scales out of fear of making your counterpart uncomfortable.

“You play a lot of Pokemon growin’ up?”

Your eyes light up as Sukuna starts a conversation, finally tipping the scales back towards being comfortable.

“My best friend growing up really liked it, we played a lot of Ruby and Sapphire.”

“Same as the brats.” He scoffs playfully.

“Are you gonna pretend that isn’t your old GameBoy?”

He tilts his head in your direction, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “And if it is?”

“Dunno, I might think you’re a bit of a nerd,” you tease, mindlessly chewing on your lip.

Sukuna’s eyes flicker down to your lips. He catches himself immediately, averting his gaze. “Tch.”

You giggle when he doesn’t refute your claim. He shoves his hands back into his pockets, your takeout bags dangling from his forearm.

As you arrive back at your apartment, Sukuna lets you unlock the door before grabbing and holding it open for you. His eyes trace your figure as you tread ahead of him with a skip in your step. When you turn back to him, realizing he hasn’t followed you yet, he blinks in surprise as he realizes exactly what he’s doing, shaking his head to clear it.

Why in the hell was he checking you out anyway? He doesn’t make a habit of hooking up with people who know him beyond face value. He mutters a ‘sorry’, relieved when you don’t seem to notice the way he’d so shamelessly checked you out.

Closing the door behind him, he sets the food on the table, tossing his jacket aside as you call his brothers, setting up a little dinner around your coffee table. Sukuna groans as he slips down onto the floor to eat, remaining quiet as he simply watches the way you cheerfully entertain both of his brothers’ antics.

Shoveling rice into his mouth, Sukuna stares down at his curry, contemplating the strange sense of warmth blooming in his chest. The feeling is so unfamiliar to him that he can’t place it. He has half a mind to drown the emotion in nicotine and the need to smoke grows quickly.

He’s so preoccupied in his thoughts, Sukuna doesn’t realize his little brothers have both run off back to your room, leaving the two of you alone.

“S’kuna?”

Striking pupils suddenly meet yours. He straightens from where he sits across from you on the couch, taking notice of the fact that you’ve already finished your dinner.

“Are you alright?”

Sukuna nods. “‘M fine.” Yet he can’t help but to drink in the sight of you, the way you look at him with so much care and he can’t understand why, the way your lips move so softly when you speak. The way your figure and curves would feel under his hands, the way you keep biting your lip… Sukuna shakes his head suddenly, getting to his feet as he chalks it up to lust. He’ll get over it at the next party he goes to. “Balcony?” He asks suddenly, pointing at the door at the back of your apartment.

You nod, watching in confusion as he rises suddenly and rushes out the door, pulling out a box of cigarettes. You hum to yourself, deciding to give him a moment. You’re not sure exactly what came over him, he seemed flustered even if only for a moment, but there was something else you noticed in his eyes, something darker you couldn’t identify.

Pushing that aside, you put the lid back over his food to keep it warm and check your phone to find Shoko’s been trying to reach you to go pick up your car. You let her know you’ll have to pick it up tomorrow since you’re with Sukuna as you wait for him to finish smoking.

After a few messages back and forth, you glance back outside at Sukuna. The way the muscles along his back ripple just from the act of breathing is eye-catching enough, but when he stubs out his cigarette and leans over the railing of your little balcony, your eyes trail to his shoulder blades protruding from the white material of his shirt.

Catching yourself holding your breath, you take a step forward and decide to check on him, closing the balcony door in your stead as you slip onto the small overlook behind him.

He doesn’t acknowledge you even as you lean beside him, his tired expression fixated on the street below. You rest a hand on his bicep as you tilt your head quizzically. “Are you sure everything’s alright?”

Ever aloof, you aren’t able to tell what he’s thinking as he turns to look at you. You, completely unaware that your touch has set his skin alight. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes have darkened a shade as his pupils dilate at your touch. Unsure what’s come over him, he simply hums affirmatively as an answer to your question.

Your brow knits together but you accept his response. He wonders if you know that you’re rubbing circles into the skin of his bicep and it’s driving him crazy. What the hell is it about you that’s got him horny like it’s his first year of college again? It frustrates him beyond belief, but maybe it’s just been too long since he’s slept with someone. That has to be it. It’s just lust. He swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with the action when you finally bring your attention out to the road in front of you both, removing your hand from him.

“Hey, um, what do you do at the supermarket?” You ask in an effort to create conversation with him.

“Stock,” he replies shortly, his tone as stoic as his expression.

“That’s not too bad,” you murmur thoughtfully, giggling to yourself suddenly. Sukuna’s brow raises. “Sorry, I just can’t imagine you as, like, a cashier or something.”

“Why not?” He sneers, standing up straight and facing you, offended.

“Come on,” you giggle, “you’re not very talkative.”

“I can be,” he insists, taking a step towards you.

“Is that your way of proving it?” You provoke him with a grin.

He scoffs. “I just don’t have anythin’ to say,” he grumbles with a tense jaw, staring down at you. “‘Sides, I work with customers at my other job.”

Another job? You frown at his admission. How the hell is he managing this? How hasn’t he flunked out? “What other job?”

“Mechanic,” he states blandly.

“Really? Are you a big car guy?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Sukuna’s somewhat taken aback by the way you lean in, your full attention directed towards him. You seem to take such a genuine interest in him and he isn’t quite sure what to make of it.

A smirk plays at the corners of his lips as he decides to mess with you, loving the idea of keeping you on your toes and pushing your buttons. “Nah. ‘M just good with my hands,” he drawls as you present him the perfect opportunity to tease you back given how much of a hard time you’ve been giving him.

Your eyes widen at his euphemism, cheeks heating up as you grip the balcony railing harder. You avert your gaze in an attempt to save face, willing your heart to slow down to no avail.

You clear your throat. “I-I um, th-that makes sense,” you stammer, mentally facepalming at just how nervous your words come out. He has no right to be this hot.

“Not so talkative now, are ya?” He chuckles lowly, sliding from his position leaning on the railing beside you to rest his opposite hand on your other side, effectively trapping you.

You flip over to face him, leaning back against the railing with pursed lips. Sukuna grins at your mousey behavior, thrilling in the way you squirm trapped between him and the railing. “Sukuna?”

His heart pounds in his chest at the sound of his name coming from your lips and his smirk falters. Why the hell is his heart beating so fast? He forces his smirk again, moving his face down to your level in an effort to push away the strange feeling blooming in the pit of his stomach. “Yeah, woman?”

Focusing on anything other than the man in front of you, you can only manage to mumble out a few ‘um’s and ‘uh’s. Sukuna chuckles at just how flustered you are, freeing you from the cage of his arms as he rests against the railing beside you again.

You clear your throat, trying to ignore your spiraling thoughts. And boy are they ever spiraling as you stare out at the street beneath you, attempting to focus on the passing cars and not your pounding heart. “Why are you in Art History?”

Sukuna’s lit another cigarette in the time that you’ve used to recover your thoughts. He looks calmer once again as smoke spirals from the glowing embers. “Required class.”

“R-Right.” You swallow, moving past your stammer. “What do you want to do?”

He pauses for a moment, taking a languid drag from the cigarette. A puff of smoke leaves his lips before he replies. “Dunno. I’m a history major.”

You wouldn’t have imagined the college’s resident bad boy to be a history major, if you’re being honest with yourself, but you remind yourself not to judge a book by its cover.

He runs a hand through his hair as you contemplate the idea of Sukuna as a history major and what he might do with that major given that you can’t envision him as a historian or a museum curator, and certainly not as a teacher.

“I’m thinking of swapping majors,” he admits. You examine his expression as he taps the edge of the cigarette with a finger. He shrugs, shifting his gaze to stare at the sidewalk beneath the both of you. “Starting to think history doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, what do you want to do, Sukuna?”

He casts you a glance, examining your attentive face. You’re so wholly invested in his words that it causes a pang in his chest. He subconsciously brings a hand up to his chest, scratching at it as if to cast the strange feeling away.

Setting the feeling aside, he finds himself scowling in thought. When he was considerably younger he’d wanted to pursue graphic design but he hadn’t had the luxury of thinking about his future for a while now. In truth, he’s not even sure why he’s in history right now. It interests him enough to keep him attentive but the career options are… few and far between and he can’t exactly afford to fuck around and swap majors constantly.

His minor in business makes more sense, at least he can do something with it, but… in truth, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. It’s another page filed under ‘uncertainties’ in the book that is Sukuna.

You take his silence as an answer and shoot him a wry smile. “You don’t have to answer, I’m sorry to pry.”

“It’s fine,” he sighs. “I just dunno that either.”

Admitting to it feels shameful, almost, and frankly, Sukuna thinks he’s had enough of making a fool of himself in front of you today. Stubbing out his cigarette, he stands up and makes his way back inside. You follow after him, blinking as he begins packing up.

“I should go,” he mumbles, shutting his laptop and tossing it into his bag. He picks up his keys from your desk, shoving them in his pocket as he zips up his backpack. “Oh,” he stops his movements, hesitating for a moment. “I… Appreciate dinner.”

Your expression softens and you smile wholeheartedly. “No problem. You can take your leftovers, too. They’re still on the table,” you point over to the box you’d set the cover over. He nods, shutting it and tucking it in his bag as well.

With a tired sigh, he gathers his brothers, ushering them towards the doorway.

“Got anything to say?” Sukuna utters, staring down at both kids expectantly.

“Thank you!”

“Thank you, miss!”

You grin at both kids, kneeling down. “I hope you two had fun. You know, maybe you can convince your brother to come over again and I’ll pull out my old GameCube.”

With the expressions of jaw-dropping awe you’re getting right now, you would think you’d revealed to them the secret to happiness or something. Yuji leaps into your arms immediately, nearly toppling you over as he shoots a pleading stare at Sukuna.

Sukuna’s expression shifts to one of irritation as Yuji pleads with him, “Kuna! Pleeeease pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” that has you giggling at the way a vein in his forehead seems to pulse.

“Brat. Brat! Shut up, I’ll think about it, alright?”

Yuji nods cheerfully, counting straight to Sukuna’s leg to hug him, and the clear irritation on your classmate’s face immediately falters. Maybe he’s a bit of a softie after all.

Sukuna sighs heavily, reaching a long arm down to ruffle his brother’s hair. “Yeah, alright, kid. If she invites us.”

His voice is tired, albeit strangely soft. It’s almost like he’s a different person, and suddenly you can see why it is that he’s pulling such a terrible schedule. Despite the clear stress being a twenty two year old parent to two young kids is, he clearly loves them.

But this is Sukuna we’re talking about, so he doesn’t always know how to express that.

It’s sweet, really, and your heart melts at the sight.

“Go wait outside, you two.” Both kids run down the hall to the elevator as they excitedly ponder what games you might have, leaving you and Sukuna alone as he leans on the doorframe.

“You free next Saturday?” You ask once his attention returns to you.

“I can let you know. Depends on the auto shop’s schedule.”

“We can always do another day, whatever works best for you, Kuna.” Your voice holds a teasing lilt as you mimic Yuji’s entirely too adorable name for him.

“Don’t start with that,” he snarls, mumbling something about the name being annoying. Before turning to walk away, he decides to pay you back for all of your teasing with a jab of his own. “Don’t make a habit of getting oil dumped on you, yeah?”

What Sukuna isn’t expecting is for you to be able to match his teasing without a second thought. “What, I can’t email you for help?”

He snorts, smirking at the ground as he pushes himself off of the doorframe and begins to turn away. “See you around,” he says, raising a hand in farewell as he follows after his two brothers. Your eyes trail curiously after him until he’s out of sight, shutting and locking the door quietly.

In truth, you don’t expect to hear from him until maybe next Friday if you’re lucky, but to your surprise when you check your email later that night, your inbox has a new email from Sukuna. It’s still funny, to think that you’re communicating via email, but at least you aren’t giggling to yourself as you open this one.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Sunday, 12:04 AM brat stole your gameboy. meet at the fountain at noon monday

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Sunday, 12:23 AM That’s alright!! He can keep it :)

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Sunday, 12:27 AM no he needs to learn. noon at the fountain

With a sigh, you realize he isn’t about to relent and give in.

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Sunday, 12:28 AM Okay I’ll see you then Kuna lol

And oh if you could see the way Sukuna is guffawing and huffing at his screen, slamming his laptop shut as you call him the nickname he doesn’t want anyone to know. Yet here you are, barging into his life on all fronts and learning more about him than he wants.

The way his heart stutters, it actually stutters when he sees his inbox go up by a notification because he just knows it’s you and fuck why is it actually cute when you use that nickname?

Sukuna rubs a hand over his face and pulls his comforter up over his shoulder, sinking into the plush of his mattress as he tries to get some rest before his shift the next morning. He’ll deal with his other issues later.

main masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter

❦ a/n ; hello!! thank you so much for reading i've been having an absolute blast with this. i've been working on this for a long time and it was initially intended to be about 25k, but after working on it for a month straight it hit that pretty quickly and i'm nowhere near done. aaaanyways, thanks for all the love and support and as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are super appreciated <3

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

@yenayaps @rinachains @aiicpansion @fushitoru @gojoscumslut

@hellish4ever @creamflix @theonlyhonoredone @catobsessedlady @timetoletmyimaginationfly

@clp-84 @coffee-and-geto @candyluvsboba @favvkiki

writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune.

[st4rpiece]

dealing with a rude server

SWF

characters: luffy, zoro, law, crocodile x f! reader summary: how the guys would handle a server being rude/disrespectful towards you in front of them CW: not proofread, killing (law and crocodile), toxic behavior from servers, but mainly fluff [different kinds of reader traits are mentioned in different scenarios: allergies (not specified), height + weight (kind of specified), speech impediment (more specifically stuttering)]

Monkey D. Luffy

luffy doesn't bother reading the menu at any restaurant you guys go to, and that's because he gets the same thing every time; one of everything. you, however, love taking your sweet time examining the menu and familiarizing yourself with the items, especially if you guys are on a new island. 

another reason was because of your allergies, you wanted to make sure the food you were eating didn’t contain anything that could trigger a reaction. unfortunately, a lot of the food served at this particular restaurant contained that exact ingredient, so your options when it came to food were limited. usually, you'd pick a dish you’d like with a couple of new dishes to try, but as a precaution, you stuck to just one. 

while deciding, you noticed how overly friendly the server had been with luffy, answering all his weird questions and agreeing to his even weirder requests. had you been treated the same, you (like luffy) would’ve brushed it off as just over-the-top service, but you weren’t. it was clear that they had a thing for luffy, so clear that they didn’t even bother to hide their feelings towards you. 

while ordering, they would cut you off to properly pronounce a word you had mispronounced, or answer your questions in a condescending tone, a stark contrast to the way they had treated luffy. and although you didn't ask, they began recommending meals they knew you couldn’t have because you had already told them about your allergies. 

the treatment was unfair but not worth fighting over so despite all that, neither of you commented on their actions (although it was clear that luffy was bothered by it). he didn’t like that they would recommend a dish you couldn’t eat as if mocking you. still, he kept quiet, thinking that was all you guys had to deal with.

when your food arrived, and instead of getting what you ordered, you got the exact dish the server had recommended earlier. everything about it was exactly as they had advertised it to be, and while it did look and smelt nice, it wasn't what you ordered. luffy could turn a blind eye to any harm done to him, but he wasn’t as lenient when it came to you. seeing the server stand there with a smirk on their face as if they didn't just hand you something that could kill you pissed him off greatly. 

“is this some fucking joke?” luffy asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and anger as his eyes bore into the server, demanding an answer. 

“you know she didn’t order this,” he said, pointing at the offending plate in front of you. the server's eyes darted from luffy’s intense gaze to the food and back again, their cheeks flushing a deep red as they realized their mistake.

“i-i’m so sorry, i’ll get your order fixed right away,” they stammered, their hands trembling as they hastily retreated to the kitchen.

after the stunt they just pulled, their words do nothing to ease luffy’s anger or anxiety. so despite not being allowed in the kitchen, he still went. demanding he keep an eye on the cooks, making sure your dish was prepared quickly and correctly.

once it was done he would personally bring it out to you, intensely assessing you for any weird reactions as you took your first bite. after giving him the nod of approval and your usually happy smile, his eyes would light up with relief before joining indulging in his own meal.

Roronoa Zoro

zoro never orders his food cause he doesn’t care what he eats as long as there’s some good alcohol. so, by default, you've always been the one in charge of ordering. something you enjoyed doing because of the praise you'd get whenever he liked the dish you picked out. the server, unfamiliar with your relationship dynamic, placed all the attention on zoro, waiting for his order with little to no acknowledgment towards you.

“what are you looking at me for? she’s the one ordering,” he’d say, nodding his head in your direction. his brows furrowed in annoyance, eyeing the server intensely, watching them apologize frantically before they finally turned to you, giving you their undivided attention.

seeing this you began ordering a mountain of food; ones you liked, ones you knew he’d like, and a couple of new things for you both to try. you were ordering a lot, especially for just two people, but with zoro’s appetite and your love for trying new dishes, you knew it wouldn't go to waste. the server, watching you order all this food, couldn’t keep their negative thoughts to themselves. 

“no wonder she’s so big,” they mumbled under their breath as they wrote down the rest of your order. unprepared for the sudden blade aimed directly at their neck, scaring them in the process.

“come again?” zoro asked, his brows still furrowed, but this time in anger as his blade hovered mere inches from their neck.

the restaurant was silent, the usual chatter of customers and clanging of kitchenware had ceased abruptly. the server’s eyes were wide with terror. they truly didn��t think anyone could hear them.

“i-i just meant she’s tall and muscular like she must work out a lot!” they stuttered, their voice trembling.

zoro’s grip tightened around the blade, the insult was clear. you both knew what she meant; still, he decided to withdraw his blade, sliding it back into its sheath.

“watch your fucking mouth,” he warned his voice a dangerously low rumble that sent a shiver down their spine. they nodded fervently, their eyes never leaving the spot where the blade had just been. after apologizing some more, they quickly left to go get your food, not wanting to anger him even more. 

her words didn’t bother you, and if they did you could’ve easily handled it, but the sight of your usually level-headed boyfriend threatening someone’s life for your sake was pretty hot. you couldn’t help but tease him about it, loving the way his ears redden in response.

Trafalgar Law

law doesn’t eat out much, nothing against it he just hates rowdy places, the extroverted personality of his crew was enough for him to deal with. however, after getting together with you, he found himself at a lot of different restaurants watching you gush over a new dish, excited to recreate them back on the submarine. he usually kept quiet while you ordered, trusting your judgment on whatever you picked for him. 

food was one of the few outlets that allowed you to express yourself without words. due to your speech impediment, you tended to avoid talking to anyone you weren’t close with, as it was something you were insecure about. but, when it came to food, you could ramble all day regardless of how many times you stuttered. and it helps that all of the restaurants you've been to had servers who were patient and kind, giving you the time to order without judgment. 

when visiting a new place law would always ask if you wanted him to order instead, usually after assessing the environment of the restaurant or, in this case, the server's attitude. one he picked up on as they gave their introduction still, you insisted on being the one to order. things were going fine with you ordering as you normally would, before becoming aware of the growing look of disinterest and impatience on the server's face. this made you feel like you were taking too much of their time, causing you to speed up, rushing through your words. something you instantly regretted after coming across a word you weren’t familiar with, butchering it along with your stutter.

noticing the sudden shift in your mood, law takes your hand, drawing small circles on your palm as a way to calm you down. but the warmness from his hands was overshadowed by the muffed chuckle from your server. you weren't sure if they were laughing at your pronunciation or at your stutter either way, you were too embarrassed to say anything else. 

“what's so funny?” he asked, a noticeable edge in his voice. the server, however, failed to detect it.

“my apologies,” they said insincerely, mockery evident in their eyes. “what was it that you wanted again?”

you didn't bother answering instead, turning to your boyfriend, hoping he’d take over. unprepared for the sight of the server’s heart clutched in his hands. 

coming face to face with their heart made them realize the gravity of the situation that they were in, but before they could plead for their life, law squeezed tightly around their heart, silencing them with the pain. 

“get us a different server,” he demanded, watching them frantically search for the nearest coworker with a gaping hole in their chest drawing the attention of the nearby patrons. after arriving with their replacement, they began apologizing for their actions, hoping that law would spare them. 

as if he'd spared them after disrespecting you like that. so in front of the new server and all of the patrons watching law, pierced his sword right through their heart, killing them on the spot. the atmosphere in the restaurant completely chilled as everyone was shocked at the lifeless body on the ground while you and law remained unfazed.

“go on baby tell her what you wanted” and that's exactly what you did telling the new waitress who patiently waited for your next words about what you and law would be having that evening.

Sir. Crocodile

despite him being the leader of a wanted criminal group with a bounty of over one billion berries on his head, crocodile always finds the time to spoil you even when he isn't home. you'd wake up to mountains of gifts or a surprise solo trip to one of the summer islands. while being with him, you never had to ask or even lift a finger crocodile's always a step ahead, catering to your every need. 

as someone so used to being independent, dating someone like crocodile made you feel so fragile and princess-like. despite your initial barriers, you loved depending on him for simple things you could easily do on your own. like holding doors, planning dates, tying your shoes/putting on your heels, and choosing your meals. it’s been two years, and you’ve stopped reaching for doors and picking what to eat, always letting him do it. 

but what you loved the most was being able to spend quality time with him, something you couldn't do often due to his hectic "job." sometimes you'd go months without seeing him, so whenever you guys had that downtime, you cherished it.

he had just returned home after being away for a month, establishing a base in the south blue, and while he doesn't think it's something worth celebrating he knows you do. so, he made dinner reservations at one of the fanciest restaurants on the winter island. it was a pretty restaurant with an even prettier view, but despite the warm atmosphere you couldn't help but be bothered by the server's attitude.

while crocodile ordered you noticed the server's lust-filled gaze as they looked at him, but what bothered you wasn't her looking at him (you knew your man was fine) it was how she purposefully ignored your presence while doing so. for the sake of keeping peace, you don't call her out, planning to vent about it to him later.

after the server left crocodile got a call from mihawk and you figured it was urgent since mihawk never calls unless it was.

“i’ll be right back baby, just need to take this,” he said placing a small kiss on your forehead before leaving to take his call.

not long after, the server returns with your drinks with the same flirty smile that immediately drops the moment they noticed he was gone. 

“the sex must be real good if he’s willing to take someone like you here,” they mumbled disgust evident in their voice as they sized you up.

“and what? you think he’d bring someone like you here instead?” you asked. your tone and expression filled with mockery as you returned their heated gaze. it was clear they had expected their words to have a greater effect on your confidence not expecting you to have a sharp tongue.

“don’t get so cocky, i’m sure you're not the only one he’s seeing,” they said with a sneer, their voice rising slightly above the murmur of the restaurant unaware of the looming figure behind them.

while making his way back to your table crocodile had managed to catch the last bit of their words. he didn’t know what they were talking about or who started the argument and honestly he didn’t care. they had disrespected you and to him that good enough reason to kill them. without bothering to make his presence known, he snaps their neck earning a chorus of gasps from the horrified patrons as they watched the servers body drop dead on the floor. his expression unchanged, as he wordlessly looks around looking for the nearest worker, requesting a different table with a new server.

the manager rushes over, sweat beading on his forehead as he frantically apologize for the disturbance the dead server had caused. crocodile calmly hands him a wad of cash, enough to cover the meals of the entire restaurant for the night. "make it right," he instructed, his voice as smooth as the whiskey in his glass.

the man nodded fervently, snapping at his staff to clean up and move them to a different section. the murmurs grew louder as people whispered about what they had just witnessed. but crocodile's eyes remained on you, his hand reaching out to take yours. "you okay?" he asked his grip firm and reassuring.

“oh please,” you said rolling your eyes at his unnecessary worry. “as if her words could bother me. i know you’re all mine,” you said taking a sip from your wine and watching as his eyes narrowed slightly in amusement.

“damn right, i am,” his voice was a low growl sending a shiver down your spine, not one of fear but of excitement.

One Piece Masterlist

having an idea is so much more fun then actually writing down that idea T~T plus i had no time to write these past couple of days due to school. (neuroscience has been kicking my ass).

also i hope i did the reader traits justice or at least done them properly (if not let me know so I can tweak it!)

anyways i hope you guys enjoyed this !! (wrote mini version for the usual people but i ran out of ideas so theres no part 2 :p)

and for those that sent requests i see you and i promise will get to them when i have time 😭😭

[junicult]

!! the bachelors after their first kiss with you

contains ; fluff! gn!(but written with fem in mind)farmer for most. implied male in alex’s. non canon setting (for most). unestablished relationships—pre dating. alcohol usage. smoking (cigarettess).

note ; i had a nice time in my imagination with this one

harvey.

he stares at you, stunned at how easily you were able to do the thing he’s been thinking about for weeks. how soft your lips felt, how comforting your hand on his chest was, and how genuinely intoxicated just one simple kiss from you was already making him feel.

he clears his throat, and almost like you just sucked every word out of him, all he could muster up was a mumbled, “thank you.” he thanked you. for kissing him.

you purse your lips, trying your darnedest not to laugh watching his face just drop, realizing the first thing he said to you after you kissed him for the first time was a thank you.

“oh no, it was my pleasure.” you tease, allowing a small giggle to slip. he sighs like his blood has run cold, too embarrassed to even respond. luckily for him, you’re just too perfect, and you cool his sting by leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. you pull back with a smile, hand cupped over the opposing one, “goodnight harvey. i’ll see you tomorrow. you can thank me for that one, then.”

sam.

he acted almost as quick as you did, the moment he saw your eyes fixate on his lips and lean in, he wasted no time to fill in the gap between you two.

“you kissed me.” he says, face washed in amusement and adrenaline. he remains a solid grip where his hands rest on your lower waist, clear he has no intent on letting you go anytime soon.

“i might’ve.” you murmur, flickering your gaze to and from his. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think—

“are you all shy now? did i make you nervous?” he angles his head to chase your nervously wandering eyes, mischievous grin and tease in his tone. his hand consciously cups the side of your neck, thumb pressing into your jaw to gently force your chin up and maintain eye contact.

you huff, shaking your head. “well, a little! we just kissed!” you try not to sound too whiny—though, the way his grin spreads almost makes you forget that plan.

“aha! i made you nervous! am i so handsome? am i such a good kisser?” he muses, snickering in triumph.

“sam,” you test, narrowing your eyes through your eyelashes.

“what? you dunno know the answer? wanna kiss again to find out?”

shane.

he didn’t actually think you’d lean in, much less keep it going for so long that he’d have to push against you a moment later to give him a second to breathe.

but you shake your head, misinterpreting it all so quickly. “i’m sorry—i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have kissed you, i don’t know why i did that, i’m sorry—“

“whoa, i wasn’t pushin’ you away,” he immediately rouses, “i’m not mad that you kissed me.” and he snickers lowly, “more like pounced on me.”

“you’re not?” you hum breathlessly, straightening your pants and tucking pieces of your hair back. now your chest bubbles with a new kind of embarrassment. you nibble on your lower lip, attempting to ease your breaths. “i—i dunno why i did that. i don’t usually drink…much less makeout with people while i do.”

you slouch back down on the old, creaky dock next to him. he snorts, tilting his head, “‘m just too irresistible, huh?”

you shoot him a glower. “yeah,” you say like it’s sarcastic, but really, you’re well aware you aren’t drunk enough to start behaving irrationally. “i just didn’t mean to do that.”

“i don’t mind that you kissed me.” he shrugs.

you watch as he takes a swig from his beer can. his eyes focus on the overall still lake in front of you both. “you don’t?”

he almost wants to tease you for all your disbeliefs. he chooses to scoff out a laugh instead, shaking his head. “mm-mm.”

you turn to face the water, gently swinging your dangling legs over the edge. “hm,” you hum back, “maybe we should talk about that when we’re both sober.”

sebastian.

he’s borderline shocked at how easy it was for him to kiss you back—no hesitation after your fingers brushed the back of his hair to pull him in. he’s almost loopy, too, and he’s never been the type to swoon so hard from these kinds of affections. but he’s also learned a lot has changed since he first met you.

“you taste like cigarettes.” you murmur as you step back, licking your lower lip as if to repeat the taste. you turn towards the city lights, and for the first time he’s finding it nearly impossible to follow your gaze.

“i’m sorry,” he truthfully says, absentmindedly stepping down on the previously tossed cigarette butt at his shoe. “i’ve been trying to stop.”

“tastes like you, too. mixed in, i guess.” you note with a smile, “it’s not terrible though. but good, you should try and quit.”

he honestly doesn’t know how to take that—in his mind, he can’t imagine that tastes good, much less the combination any glorious. yet you turn to him again, stuffed hands unfolding from your pockets to reach across for his.

all you had to do was to give him a tiny tug, sliding your hands up his shoulders before he repositioned his own back to where they previously sat on your waist.

“let me bask it in while i can, though.”

alex.

you’ve almost never seen him with this soft, content look on his face. you’re half expecting him to burst into laughter, try to justify his actions with a teasing lilt and offer to pretend like it never happened.

but no. all he does is look at you, watching the way your eyes shift between each of his, evaluating. like he’s waiting for one of you to break.

you take the bait. “why’d you do that?” you murmur, quiet enough the wind almost picks it up.

he shrugs. “i dunno. it felt right.” he hums, and despite his uncertain words, he says it with sincerity. “was that the wrong choice?”

you think for a moment. for you, you surely thought about it for weeks. but the timing certainly didn’t feel appropriate. vulnerability changes a man like him most of all, and the last thing you’d want to do was take advantage of that. you absentmindedly swirl the grains of sand under your fingertips.

“no, i don’t think so.” you respond easily.

he nods. you’ve never seen him this quiet, but despite that, you’ve got an idea of what’s exactly going through his mind. when he turns away, you’re certain.

“you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“of course not.”

elliott.

he had almost forgotten why he invited you over—just for inspiration on the last couple chapters of his novel, or did he honestly plan for it to go like this?

“so…what happens after they…kiss?” you coyly murmur, still held in his embrace so close you can smell the drop of pomegranate on his lips.

“well, i haven’t written that far just yet,” he pauses to take a breath, “i was hoping they’d finally confess their love.”

he’s so handsome this close, your head still reels and lips feel fuzzy as you struggle to bring back in your even breaths.

you nod, slow and computing. “yeah—no, that sounds good.”

your plump lips hold him in a trance, as do his, making it so hard to concentrate on his words all the while you feel you’re too fixated on them.

“so you believe they love each other? that they should finally tell the other?”

the kiss rendered you thoughtless—what can you expect from a romantic like him? however, the metaphor is not lost on you. and had he let you go at this point, it wouldn’t have been so easy for you to eagerly nod, “absolutely. two people in love should tell each other they’re in love.”

[cannibaliist]

Pink Matter - Sevika x F!Reader (18+)

One shot | Part 2 soon??

Contains: 18+, sickfic, slight modern!au, smut, explicit content!!, NSFW, mentions of alcohol and weed consumption, established relationship, no use of y/n, nicknames of 'baby girl, sweet girl, etc.' mentioned, dom!sevika, strap ons, oral!s e x reader recieving, rough, vaginal s e x

Word Count: 3.6K

a/n: the Sevika brainrot got too much so here we are lol . hope you enjoy !!

cross posted on AO3

title inspired by Pink Matter by Frank Ocean

Sevika likes you even when you're sick. Because there is no other grown woman or man she'd allow to perspire on her sheets and take up all the space on her mattress on an early Saturday morning when she's finally free from work and Silco's nagging. So yeah, she likes you all right. 

You don't usually get sick often, especially with her watching over you to make sure you're warm during Zaun's freezing weather. 

Your sweat-coated skin soaks through the double layer of navy blue sheets on the bed. It turns the blue almost black and Sevika can only think about how her shit – the one pair of sheets she probably owns – is definitely close to fucked up. God, you are so lucky she doesn't want you to die from whatever you contracted after fucking around all night during the misting rain, laughing and dancing high off your mind from the cheap weed Sevika bought off her coworker. That mixed with what the people called “Shimmer Juice”, you were half out of your mind for the night. 

“Baby get the hell inside,” Sevika had told you last night, but all you did was smile at her. That blinding ass smile full of white teeth and crescent shaped eyes that made her heart start thumping a little faster in her chest. Fuck. She really was in love with you. 

So of course, now you were running a fever and swaddled in whatever blankets she could scrounge up around her room. Sevika likes you like this though, fading in and out of consciousness.

Snoring softly and muttering small words while grasping at whatever body part of Sevika you could reach to keep you warm. You get super clingy when you're sick, one of the only times you are completely super sweet and malleable instead of talking back to Sevika like she won't put you in your place the next moment, but your freak ass is into it so she has to calm herself down another way to not give you exactly what you want. Still, she smiles at your petty actions. Helps to know you really want her in every single form.

She decided to run a few errands while your younger form slept, grabbing soup ingredients – Does my love prefer celery or corn? – bottles of water and a thermometer that she's never bothered to keep in her home before. The things my baby makes me do, she thinks as she puts her things into her grocery basket. 

When she gets back and puts the groceries away she expects for her baby to still be sound asleep but instead you seem a bit off. Hair splayed out everywhere with your chest rising and falling heavily. A flush in your cheeks that's still so visible even with the color of your skin, tinted a steady red even in your sleep. 

Sevika wondered if you were having a nightmare, thrashing and moving in your sleep like you do when your dreams get really bad, fighting more than just sickness.

But instead, your whole body is trembling, your hips unconsciously grinding into the sweat-stained sheets. Sevika walks closer, watching you move your body further into the bed, soft little groans escaping your plush lips. She stills as you mutter a soft cry for her. “Sevika…” She holds her breath, slowly approaching the voice. “Sevi, please.”

Sevika smirks to herself, touching a hand to your warmed skin shaking your awake. “Get up, sweet girl.” She had to take your temperature now before giving you any water. You startle with a groan, whining like you always do. Some nonsense about a “-middle of a good dream. ruin everything.”

“Open your mouth for something other than running it baby.” Even though you're slightly annoyed from being woken up from such a nice dream, you do as instructed, mouth wide and hinting for more than just a thermometer. 

Sevika felt a twinge in her pants. Her desire to slide her strap down your awaiting throat was just too tempting. Instead, she cups your jaw, and sticks the thermometer tip under your tongue. You glare and let out a soft whine of disappointment. “Tease,” you mutter. 

Sevika rolls her eyes at the petulant behavior and pulls out the thermometer at the beep. “101.4, Told your crazy ass to sit down last night and now here we are,” she scoffs. “Sit up and drink some water.”

You groan and turn your head away, letting yourself fall back onto the bed. “Don't want to.”

Sevika sighs, sliding her warm fingers over your sweat-soaked hair, small pieces threatening to curl at the nape of your neck. They feel nice as they start to comb at your scalp. “Listen, you've been playing housewife all week, cleaning and cooking all nice for me, let me take care of you now baby girl.” 

You groan again, weak hands gripping the edge of the blanket, trying to pull it off of you. You sigh into the pillow, words all muddied and unclear. “Speak up baby, I'm not straining to hear you.”

You take a deep, labored breath in, and turn her head towards Sevika, cheeks getting all hot. “Said you want to, so take care of me.”

Her eyes narrow at you, “What do you think I'm doing?” 

“No Sevi, I need you to fuck me. Please.” 

Sevika grips your chin, hard, probably could leave a few bruises if she tried hard enough. You twitch under her touch, ultra-sensitive from the fever. “You're outta your mind right now. You need to rest ”

You bring a hand to Sevika’s thigh as she hovers over you, grasping with more strength than you probably needed to have. “I need it, please. I'll be good.”

Just the thought of your body loose and desperate sends a rush straight to the older woman's crotch. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Fuck me, Sevika.” Your voice was exhausted, but eager, wide eyes staring endlessly into her own dark grey ones. 

She watches the quickened rise and fall of your chest as she goes to take off her vest and her pants. Of course she's commando. Of course. The thing you're waiting for is less than 5 steps away, tucked in the nightstand drawer. Sevika is quick to grab the strap-on and fasten it around herself. It's a beautiful deep shade of purple and thick and practically gleaming as she steps closer to you. You scramble out of your sleep shorts and t-shirt to feel her presence even closer.

“Gonna slick me up baby? Get me ready for you?” She asks as she sizes you up. Her eyes are dark, hungry, for you. 

You nod dumbly. So ready to suck her off like you've done times before. 

She drags her metal hand along your lower leg, up your shaking thighs, over your awaiting ass in your underwear, and up to your back. You twitch at the cold of the metal, too much sensation from such a small gesture. Simply Sevika’s touch – gentle strokes across the skin – was overwhelming. 

Sevika gently tugs on your jaw, testing how pliable and easy you promised to be. She was met with no resistance as your mouth opened with ease, “doing so good already baby.” 

Sevika stepped closer, hovering over your face, sliding in her strap until she hit the back of your throat with no resistance. You were too tired for a reflex, too tired to choke. Fuck, she could do anything she wanted to you right now and you wouldn't even flinch. Something dark coiled in Sevika's stomach, if she was a better person she would've ignored your pleas and doped you up with enough medicine to tire you out but she wasn't an entirely good person, and you liked her that way. 

Sevika worked your mouth, it's as if she could feel the warm back of your throat every time she bottomed out. But the small quiver of breath on the straps cockhead was a reminder that you needed to breathe.

Tears welled in your eyes, and Sevika had to fight coming right then and there. She wanted to fill your throat, make you keep her strap warm as you swallowed every last bit of her. The only fight you had was an involuntary gasp for air. Sevika held you there for just a second longer, slowly sliding out of your mouth, warm and wet. As Sevika’s strap head passes your lips, you groan, trying to get Sevika to put herself back where she belongs.

Sevika replaces the emptiness with her fingers, laying them on your tongue instead. “Not now baby girl.”  

Sevika hovers over you, staring at your parted lips, watching your eyes flutter as sweat drips down your brow. She lowered her hips, slowly dragging her strap along your entrance. Sevika’s other hand traveled down to the leaking pussy between your thighs, mouth watering at the wetness. She thumbs your clit slowly as she grasps your ass with her metal hand.

You gasp at the soft friction, pushing your hips up to meet Sevika, breath heavy. “Need you Sevi, please.”

“Keep your hands up. Just like that.” You cross your arms above your head as you ache to touch Sevika back. Your skin is hot and flushed and you feel like you'll explode any second that your girlfriend isn't touching you. 

“Hurry, please.” 

“Patience pretty girl,” Sevika warns. Your whines were cut short by Sevika’s mouth meeting your own. The kiss was rough, more teeth meeting lips and gasps than anything else but it was perfect. Just like her. 

Sevika pulls away and watches her baby's head lift off the pillow to chase her, falling back almost immediately with a huff. You let your hands move from where they lay against the pillow crossed to pull Sevika back down into a kiss. Desperate. 

Pulling away again Sevika pins your wrist to the mattress with a growl. You stare up at her, eyes shining with tears but overfilled with lust and want. Fuck. “You don't listen for shit, girl. Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.”

Sevika kisses along your jaw and neck, soft nips and bites that you wanted to feel more of. Wanted them to bruise. To show everyone who you belonged to. But all you can do is whine and mumble out whispers instead of words.  

“Use your words, baby.”

You choke on your words. “M-more. Please.”

Sevika leans back down, crashing her lips into yours. “You want more?”

You groan into her mouth. “Please, anything.”

Sevika pulls away, spitting into your mouth, hungry and aching. “Swallow. Want you to remember that taste.” You swallow greedily, heart pumping as Sevika kisses down the soft skin of your stomach, inching closer to your cunt. 

She smirks at the sight, you already so desperate for more, as she runs her fingers up and down your warm entrance. You moan at the sudden intrusion, rocking back onto Sevika’s hand as she slips a finger in, all the way to the knuckle, groaning at the heat and the way you're clenched so tight around her. 

“Another please, Sevika.”

One finger quickly becomes three, and you can't even flinch at the rushed invasion, just blabbering and moaning as Sevika's thick fingers slam into your pussy. Your hips rock against Sevika’s hand as you can do nothing but wordlessly whimper and beg for something.

Sevika hits that special spot in quick little pumps, bringing your muted cries to loud gasps. 

“Almost there, baby.” Sevika tells you, her ability to hold herself back from jumping your bones entirely is slowly starting to crumble. 

When she deems you prepped enough, she takes her fingers away and slides them into her mouth making you moan. She licks her fingers like it's nectar as she sucks them into her mouth. 

Finally, Sevika settles between your trembling thighs, the color a hue she's always loved from all the time you spent tanning in the sun with no worries in the world.

A gentle groan passes by your lips as Sevika sucks a mark into the flesh of your legs, nipping along the skin turning it into a pinkish red that will soon blossom into a deep purple. She grazes her teeth along your inner thigh, biting down hard. She trails her fingers up the backs of both your legs, settling on your ass and grabbing at the soft flesh, sending a shiver up your spine. 

You mewled, begging. “Need you please.” You could feel Sevika smile into the mark she made on your thigh, turned on beyond relief at your begging. “Just a little longer baby.”

Giving you a pat on the head, she lowers her awaiting mouth to your weeping cunt, though you're already close even from her thick fingers inside of you. You moaned at the contact, gripping the sheets as Sevika licks you up clean. You resist the overwhelming urge to clutch at her hair as she works you out, but you promised not to move your hands. You'd listen this once, just for her. 

She works her tongue over your swelling clit, swirling her tongue, and moving back down. She ate you like a pro, taking you deeper in her mouth, breathing in the smell of her girl and the tickle of your hairs along her face. Whether you had a bush or shaved for some occasions, she was very appreciative of the effort, regardless of how you presented yourself to her. 

She fucks you with her tongue and only adds in a single finger. Pistoning faster as she works at your clit. It's all too much too soon and she pulls off to lick you up again, fingers still angled over your sweet spot, when she hears a loud cry. You've already cum. Making the sheets stain a darker shade of navy blue. 

“W-what the fuck?” You say more to yourself than anyone else. The fever makes you even more sensitive, even the littlest bit of stimulation making you come, it's insanely embarrassing to your already dwindling ego. 

“Think you can do one more?” the older woman chuckles. You just shake your head nervously, tears peaking at the corner of your eyes. “No more.”  

Sevika's eyes harden, grasping your hips and digging her nails in. The clutch of her metal fingers into the flesh of your hip leaves you reeling – knowing it's gonna bruise later. “If I tell you one more, then it's gonna be one more.” 

He slicks up her glistening strap with whatever lube she had on her dresser already half empty, and positions her above you. She lines herself up, pushing slow yet unyielding into you. You can't help but scream as Sevika pulls out and slams her strap into you, purposely missing your sweet spot just to make you beg for it. 

You try and bite your arm to quiet your whimpers, it was embarrassing wanting her so bad, wanting her dick, her strap, inside you so bad. Sevika reaches up, grabbing your face until they drift to your throat. “You can be loud, baby, let me hear you.”

She fucks you slow and deep, wanting to savor every second you're so pliant underneath her. Your mind is quieted by the fever, now, basically delirious. She uses just enough pressure against your throat to let you breathe, already labored and erratic.

It feels like your whole body is on fire. Only filled with thoughts of Sevika Sevika Sevika. Those words chant themselves over and over in your mind like a mantra. 

Sevika places your legs over her shoulders and enters again with no hesitation, fucking into you even faster. “Touch yourself sweet girl. Wanna see you cum again.”

You whimper. “Sevika, I don’t think-”

Sevika puts a finger over your mouth. “You don't get to tell me no princess, you wanted this, remember?” It was mocking, less a question and more a statement. Of course you remember, it's burned into the back of your mind. 

Your weak hand reaches for your clit to give it at least a little bit of stimulation. But there's no strength left in your body to bring yourself to come again, your grip was nothing more than a soft coaxing. Tears fill your eyes from frustration, from pleasure, a sharp mixture of both. 

With a laugh, Sevika slaps your pathetic hand away and brings her hand to your clit herself. Sevika continues to stroke you, angling her hips to hit even deeper into your tight pussy. It's all too much and all you can do is sob. 

Sevika moves her vacant metal hand from your hip to your throat, choking you properly now. Sevika’s pace quickens, folding you in half with your thighs against her sticky chest, thrusting as deep into you as she could. Your eyes began to roll, chest heaving from a sob but no words can escape her lips. 

“Please don't stop, please.”

You barely have time to process what’s happening before Sevika folds you in half again. You love the way the older woman makes you feel when she's caged over you. You're not overly short or tall, but you still feel so small in comparison to Sevika’s more broad-shouldered frame. You feel your body shake as Sevika sheathes herself back inside fully with one single thrust. You barely manage to take it, body tightening around her cock reflexively. It's basically an extension of her at this point. 

She lets her hand slither from around your neck to your boobs, fondling them as she fucks you harder. You scramble against the sheets with sweaty hands and weak fingers, trying to get away from the pistoning dick tearing you apart. Sevika is so big inside of you, he can hardly feel anything else. 

She kisses you and it feels like heaven all over again. 

Feels like you're drowning in pure bliss. She keeps fucking you through it, making you cum over and over again, watching as your body writhes in agony and overstimulation. It almost hurts, so fucking much, but it feels so so good. You love that Sevika isn’t afraid to handle you roughly – isn't afraid to slam her hips forward like she wants to destroy your guts with each thrust – but she isn't afraid to truly make love to you either, all nice and slow. Here, your mind finally has the ability to finally shut off and you can submit yourself fully to the older woman.

When Sevika finally comes it's like you can practically feel the strap swell inside of you. 

Sevika pulls out with a groan, as if it really is her own cock and not a toy. Something about it has your stomach swirling into knots again. 

She licks her lips. “Not done with you yet baby.” 

Sevika grabs you by your waist and flips you over, shoving your face deep into the mattress. 

“Fit around this cock so well baby girl. Bet you're wishing it was real huh?”

You can barely process Sevika’s words, only letting out a jumbled, “only yours Sevi” before your mind is clouded by a thick sheen of tears, sweat, and cum. You can't count how many times you come before you pass out from the fever and from working your body so hard. 

————

When you come to, the first thing you feel is emptiness. The emptiness of your cunt and the bed as Sevika is nowhere to be seen. It triggers something in your chest and he can't help the sob that gets stuck in her throat. You want to call out for her, cry, something, but your throat is wrecked and raw. 

“Sevika?” you push out, voice weak from exertion. 

After a few moments of silence, you hear the floorboards creak near the bedroom door. It's Sevika with a bowl of something in her hand and a bottle of water. She smiles at you, her lopsided smile glistening against the window light and it's all too domestic. 

“You aight Bambi?” The special nickname makes you want to jump her bones all over again. Her voice is soft as if speaking any louder would frighten you. But you're strong, already feeling better from your nap. You just nod, reaching an arm out towards Sevika's approaching figure to motion her to the space on the bed next to you. 

There’s different sheets this time, a creamy grey color and you wonder how long you were out cold so that she was able to replace sheets right under you.  

“I'm right here baby hold on.” He grabs the thermometer from the nightstand, motioning for you to open your mouth again. 

“98.9” she says after the beep. She cracks a wide smile, “fucking miracle my strap is huh?” You can only roll your eyes, “don't get too cocky, Sevi. I was right after all.” 

Sevika wraps you in a hug, breathing in the faint smell of sex, and the smell of your shampoo. “Eat your soup and if you're good I'll let you sleep with it in.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively, grinning larger than life. The little gap between her teeth has your heart melting as you kiss her softly. 

“I love you so much Sevika.” She presses your foreheads together and holds the sides of your face with her hands.

One kiss to your left eyelid, one kiss to your right lid, another to the tip of your nose, and finally another one your lips as she clutches you tighter. “I love you too baby.”

You eat your soup with a hunger you've never had before in your life. You go to sleep very happy that night, stomach full and pussy full as she spoons you as you both fall asleep. 

~~~~