#at the end of the day you literally are just a human being like anyone else. i think that's what i like about nightcrawler...

[dekariosclan]

Thinking about God Gale again…(especially since you made a great point about how he still loves you as a god! Which is so good and SO ANGSTY!) You may or may not be able to answer this, but I’d love to hear your thoughts: do you think God Gale would give up his godhood to be with a mortal Tav again? Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

As always: thank you for the wonderful meals about our boy 🙏 Dekarios the Divine bless you

OH DEAR GODS AN ANGSTY ASK

(ok, ok. I can do this. keep it together *hyperventilating into paper bag* just act normal goddamnit—)

Greetings fellow human! Hi! Thank you for this lovely ask, and rest assured that I am an extremely normal person who can totally handle emotional discussions about pixel people! NO I’M NOT CRYING—

Do I think God Gale would give up his godhood to be a mortal with Tav again?

Yes, I do—but only if he was able to be self-aware enough to realize that Godhood was not making him feel as happy or as content as Tav’s love did. Then his scholarly mind might finally begin to question what in the heavens he’d been thinking by giving that up just for ‘divine power’ which, as it turns out, really isn’t all that ‘divine.’

Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

The problem is that Godhood changes Gale (as it would change anyone) from a self-aware mortal to a divine being who can no longer relate to human experiences, including the passage of time. So while it’s confirmed that Gale still loves Tav, that love is now buried under weight of Gale’s hubris and godly ambitions, which would be very hard to overcome.

I know Raphael has the ending monologue where he predicts that Gale will eventually tear apart the pantheon, BUT, I personally don’t take that at face value as a guaranteed outcome. That speech reeks of sour grapes to me, and Raphael just being the smug bastard that we all know and love, so I think it’s less ‘Raphael’s Guaranteed Prediction’, and more ‘Raphael’s Fantasy Fanfiction’. Is it still possible? Sure, and I think if Gale did not romance Tav and did not get to experience their love then it is probably a more likely possibility.

But if Gale did romance Tav, then what I think is the tragic and more probable outcome is that Gale would eventually ‘wake up’ and realize that Godhood is not all that it’s cracked up to be, and decide to return home to Faerun and to Tav—but so much time has passed (and he did not realize it) that Tav and everyone he loved has now passed away.

AH GOD THE ANGST HURTS MY SPLEEN

But let’s focus on the GOOD outcome of him giving up Godhood and doing it in time to be with Tav again. It would be hard, and it would require Gale to REALLY overcome his insecurities and his pride, but I do think it is possible. Just looking at Gale’s ‘Godly Form’ you can see literal cracks in his exterior. He is not 100% unbreakable.

I still think at least a decent chunk of ‘human time’ would have to pass—we’ll say five years or so—before he would come to the realization.

And then one day (assuming Tav had not moved on and found new love) they would open their door, and—

“Hello,” Gale said, softly.

Tav blinked, for a moment trying to find their footing as their entire world spun out from under them.

“…Dekarios the Divine?” Tav asked, uncertainly. Gale’s clothes were simple robes, his skin no longer glowing with divine power. He looked almost as he had in Tav’s dreams, in all of their memories of when he’d still been a mortal.

Only this man’s eyes were much, much more tired. And filled with regret.

“No…I’m just plain old Gale Dekarios now. A most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.” He reached out, hesitantly, and took Tav’s hand in both of his.

For a moment they both stood silently, relishing the warmth of each other’s touch.

“Apologies. I hoped I’d be better at this.”

A smile was beginning to pull at Tav’s lips, even as their eyes filled. “At introductions?”

“At begging for your forgiveness.”

————— *One additional note: I simply must add that @lady-sapphyre wrote this excellent fic that tackles Gale giving up Godhood and I highly recommend it!

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

“even i’m not into that shit”

❤︎ synopsis — the sleep token members being fucking morons and fucking around

pairing: sleep token members x gn!reader (can be platonic or romantic)

theme: crack ✦

a/n: I’M BACK !!!! hopefully i don’t disappear for like a good fifty years after this. this is my third set of stupid ass headcanons. i pulled my shitty humor out of my ass for this one, enjoy !!! (the original ask got swallowed by my dumbass because i accidentally posted the unfinished fic 💀 this is dedicated to my bestie @dead-end-fanfiction)

cw: i think the title speaks for itself

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➵ vessel

i just know this man is the most unhygienic motherfucker to ever exist

more specifically with his teeth. he cannot brush his teeth to save his life

like ??? this all powerful, dark deity, has the most stinky ass breath that if anyone dares to even breath it in, they’d disintegrate on the spot

like what the fuck vessel, you’re better than this

i love vessel but he just does weird shit sometimes

he sleeps butt ass naked

and one time you accidentally walked in on him while he was literally stripping to get ready for bed

he stood there like an npc while you were freaking out

“…. what’s wrong—“ “what’s wrong is that YOU’RE BUTT ASS NAKED IN FRONT OF ME—“

vessel is easily fascinated by human things. i mean - he was once human, so he likes to keep in touch every now and then.

however, out of all of the human things he had to have an obsession with.

… it was rubber ducks

this isn’t even explainable— how do you explain this all-powerful sleep entity to be obsessed with rubber ducks

he literally has a whole room dedicated to his collection of anything rubber duck related. give him a gift that has something to do with ducks and he’s making out with you on the spot

that’s not a joke, he did that with you before

➵ ii

this motherfucker is on his last limb and he’s being held together by paper clips

ii’s not even the leader but he cannot catch a break to save his life

he’s the only one that knows how to cook

one time he left ivy and the vesselettes in the kitchen by themselves. came back to house fires and high pitched screaming that definitely was not from the ladies

ii makes bomb ass banana cream pie though

ik for a fact this man does NOT keep his room clean

you once walked into his room to ask him a favor and there were like - a million drumsticks everywhere on the floor while he sat in the center of it

how does one possess that many drumsticks???

“dude what the f— clean your room!” “it gives me inner peace, y/n. go away.”

ii’s scared of the jollibee mascot

he once went out with his buddies to get some of that fast food. that giant red and yellow fuckass bee then came out of nowhere and spooked the shit out of ii

he then socked the guy in the face so hard the dude wearing the costume had a bloody nose

ii quickly fled the scene to not get arrested

after that he’s had a fear of fast food mascots in general, it’s kinda funny.

don’t bring ii near the jack in the box mascot though, he’s got some trauma from what he’s seen on twitter

➵ iii

zesty ahh mf

plays his bass like he’s fingering someone’s asshole like 🤨 whatcha doin’ iii ??

the type of man to set like fifty million alarms but never wakes up to any of them

however he wakes up everyone else in the process

it gets annoying hearing the “by the seaside” ringtone every morning at 6am. so one day you came into his room and poured ice cold water on him to wake him up

iii didn’t wake up from that btw, you thought it was dead

“…. bro wtf wake up—“

thankfully he wasn’t

biggest kpop stan

he’s a boy group stan and his favorite group is ateez

constantly blasting guerilla too

also i feel like iii owns a tumblr blog too

he’d be out here posting some shih like “pov you’re locked in a room w him for twenty four hours and you have to tickle his balls wyd” 💀

he probably posts also moodboards or some shi and tags them like an actual tumblr blogger

#it took my ahh fifty hours to make this plz repost it

stalks his fans on twitter

gets scared by said fans on twitter

“wdym they wanna get me pregnant”

breaks his bass every four hours during practice and vessel chews his ahh out every time

but it’s funny because you’re always there to help him

➵ ivy

he likes to act like he’s tough shit but ivy is a huge nerd

literally the definition of “magical in bed” except the magic is him explaining the gaming system of magic the gathering

hot asf but has no bitches frfr

also the definition of loser trapped in a hottie’s body

i’d like to believe that ivy has a crunchy ipad kid cough

and i mean CRUNCHY. bro will start choking on his saliva and start coughing like a dying seal

it’s quite hilarious, but also concerning at the same time

the first time you heard him cough like that, you were like 😟

“AEUGH- HEUGH— BEUHSHAK-“ “ivy—“

that pretty sums up the entire interaction

this bitch looks like he ate glue as a kid

more specifically glitter glue. the pink kind.

idk that sounds like ivy

he gets literal death coffee in the morning too btw

no ice. no sugar. straight shots of espresso.

eight shots, btw.

the coffee looks blacker than the black hole.

iii tried some of his coffee one time and spat it all in your face. ivy watched with his hell coffee in hand as you beat the shit out of iii

yeah, safe to say ivy was banned from having that kind of coffee for a while

so yeah. that pretty much sums up the kind of person ivy is

[toytulini]

man the thing about beauty standards and being ugly and being pretty and being insecure is that ultimately you do just kinda have to Decide that youre pretty. like ultimately thats how you become pretty, or hot, or sexy. you have to just Decide that you Are. you have to recognize that its made up, its arbitrary, its subjective, and that people might disagree with you about it, and as much as you are able, you need to completely and utterly disregard their opinions on your appearance, and decide that youre pretty now. and THEN.

you need to find beauty in "ugly". you need to recognize that ugly is made up, that its arbitrary, that its subjective, and you need to be able to find the beauty in it all. and this means you cant bodyshame people. you cant body shame shitty celebs or politicians. you need to base your criticisms on the substance of their character and misdeeds and unhinged horrific opinions and not give a shit about what they look like. you cant go calling people ugly for being shitty. you cant go calling people ugly for looking A Way You Dont Like.

and then if you wanna really galaxy brain this shit you start using ugly as endearment. OBVIOUSLY do not fucking call other human beings ugly. that shit is far too loaded, its just Rude. Dont call specific features of people or even characters ugly cos thats also too loaded. as a term it has baggage. but you can see the ugly in tacky, loud, garish clothing, and it can be Good. you can see the ugly in a distinctive, horrible tiny car from the 90s, and it can be good. you can see the ugly in animals that have evolved to look the way they do, without a single thought of what humans find appealing. you can see the beauty and the freedom in "Ugliness". you can break out of this shit altogether and feel nothing but disdain for anyone who stoops to insulting your appearance if they disagree with you about shit. you can get completely out of the cave of these beauty standards. you can find it so freeing to revel.in letting yourself be ugly. in recognizing that the way you look and exist might be ugly to some people, and youre out of the cave enough to simply recognize. thats just your opinion and it doesnt matter. didnt ask.

you can look at ppl arguing about the correct amount of skincare products to use daily, the Correct Amount of makeup, and whether or not its radical to conform to beauty standards or defy them and argue about is it really conforming if visible makeup pisses men off, and you can say, well I dont care about any of that, I recognize the societal pressures of flawless skin and all that but you see,

I just want to look like a silly little clown :o3

[omarwolaeth]

thinking 'bout how the lads interact with what the bracelets represent, especially in their decks

[gibbearish]

a weird little thing abt me is i will definitely mock shitty ai art but it never feels right doing it about the hands simply by virtue of the fact that a lot of them look indistinguishable from the hands i was doing years ago when i first got a drawing tablet

[yuribalisms]

Essentially what it is all boiling down to is I have fully realized I am bad at being a person, that will always be true, and I don’t know how to handle that

[three-plums]

i forgot how many x-men adaptations there are and how many of them are bad LMAO

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[musical-chick-13]

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[imsosleepyofyourbull]

I firmly believe that Kabru is autistic but masks so hard that he’s convinced himself and (almost) everyone around him that he’s neurotypical.

That man’s special interest is people and how they work, but he just thinks it’s him Being So Good At Socializing — like he doesn’t spend 95% of his time people watching and adjusting his personality in response to the traits he witnesses and obsessing over the intricacies of human interaction while mapping an ever growing relationship chart in his head. For fun. He even admits it in the manga!

Like, look at him!!!

It’s such a shame that — because he’s the narrative foil to Laios and his interest is generally considered more “socially acceptable” in both their world and our own — more people don’t realize this about him. He’s constantly misinterpreted as a horribly manipulative person who only acts the way he does to use the people around him, when that’s explicitly shown to not be the case at all. Kabru is naturally empathetic and is almost always thinking about other people, regardless of whether or not they’re right there with him or a thousand miles away.

I mean, his most defining motivation is his desire to do everything he can to avoid another tragedy like the one at Utaya. Someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t have a goal like that, and they most certainly wouldn’t go about it the way he does. He’s constantly working to help people who can help everyone else and tries so hard to make sure that anyone who seems like a threat is actually someone he needs to worry about before doing anything about it. His supposed aversion to Laios is only because of the ridiculous trolley problem he’s set up in his own head.

Outside of that, he (rather justifiably) hates monsters but is desperate to understand Laios’ love for them and his apparently most selfish goal in getting close to the guy was literally just to become friends with him.

When he’s interacting with the canaries and they imply that they’re going to take him and all of his friends to the West, his first thought is of Rin and how much she’d hate to be stuck in the place that gave her so many bad memories.

He helps Kuro learn Common when Mickbell is asleep and firmly looks forward to the day that the half-foot and Kuro can communicate properly so that their relationship can get properly started without any miscommunication.

And he understands Mithrun with only a handful of weeks AT BEST interacting with him, getting enraged when the elf seems to give up and immediately trying to help him find a new motivation for life.

I’m excited just thinking about the day that Kabru starts unmasking more and more around his friends — both new and old — because if being with my current friend group has taught me anything, it’s that hanging out with anyone so unabashedly themselves is bound to make you more comfortable with yourself too. It’s part of the reason why I like Labru so much! There’s something nice about imagining them hanging out in the throne room or laying in the grass outside and talking for hours on end about their special interests. They might not strictly understand what the other finds so fascinating about monsters or people, but they can grasp that shared feeling of love.

They probably influence each other in really good ways too, with Kabru helping Laios figure out what people are thinking even when it doesn’t make sense or Laios helping Kabru understand that not everyone and everything needs to be analyzed a thousand times over. They both get to learn that there are people like them and people who will love them without them ever having to change a thing about themselves. They deserve to know that they’re fine the way they are.

[chosolala]

𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆ jjk guys crushing on you

pt 2!! this is just some of my headcannons on how i think the jujutsu kaisen characters would act while crushing on you :]

characters: yuji, megumi, inumaki, yuta, todo, noritoshi, kokichi

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

yuji itadori

he probably would wait a while before he tells you but there are MANY signs before he actually confesses

he always calls you pretty and always wants to be near you

he also shows off on missions a little when you guys go together

he is constantly talking about you and asking you if you want to hang out

he is so sweet though, always paying for your food, making jokes to keep you laughing, letting you win when you guys play video games, holding doors for you, all that jazz

when he finally does confess he’d probably do something stupid like make todo stand outside your room with a boombox while he break dances

don’t break his heart he will never recover

megumi fushiguro

he doesn’t want to have feelings for you because he knows it’ll end with one of you getting hurt with the whole jujutsu sorcerer thing so he pushes you away a lot

he actually makes you think he hates your guts so you guys go a long time not talking unless you absolutely have to

when you guys do talk he is always blushing and looking away

over time you manage to crack him though and he starts treating you like a human being with emotions

he probably buys you a soda or some sweets as an apology for being an a-hole to you

you find out he likes you through nobara or yuji but he would never confess,

if you want things to work out between you guys you’d probably have to confess to him and hope for the best

toge inumaki

he also makes fun of you but in a WAY more light hearted way

like friendly picking on you, like he’d somehow find a way to make fun of you for being pretty

he likes to invite you to help him cook just so he can hang out with you

panda never hears the end about you

on your off days he always invites you to go out and do stuff with him, like literally anything, he’ll invite you to run errands with him or to go to the arcade

when he finally confesses to you it’s no surprise to anyone, yourself included,

he slips a note into your bag and it’s literally just the cutest confession ever like that note could bring a man to tears

inumaki may be a man of few words but he knows all the right ones

yuta okkotsu

he is actually terrified when he realizes he has feelings for you because of rika so he waits a while before he even talks to you because he wants more control over her, yk so she won’t bite your head off

since he’s never around anyway he decided to just talk to you once he got back from one of his missions about how you guys have so much catching up to do

he is very observant though, he watches you and he knows what you get up to and who you hang out with, what kind of shows and music you like but he doesn’t want to be creepy about it

he is very sweet though, you mentioned running out of your favorite candy and he surprises you with a new bag that you guys eat together

he is a very vanilla guy, if he likes you, and he’s able to express it, he’ll do things like ask you out on a date or bring you chocolate, open doors for you,

he also covers your eyes from certain things on missions, he knows you’re used to seeing stuff like that but he just doesn’t want you to see what HE does to curses

he would probably confess by inviting you to the park or something and asking you to be his <3

aoi todo

he is NOT slick about it at all

first time he sees you his jaw is on the floor

he is borderline harassing you but in a…. caring way?

like he’s the type of guy who would throw himself over a puddle so you don’t get your shoes wet

he wrote a song for you except he’s a terrible singer

he probably also got yuji to help him confess to you with said song

he’s honestly like your night in shining armor though, it’s almost like he can sense when your in danger because whenever missions are looking rough he busts in out of no where to save the day

whenever you guys actually get together you always catch him shamelessly admiring you, whenever you’re together his eyes are only on you

noritoshi kamo

also in denial about his feelings towards you, he would never confess to you first or even tell anyone he liked you, yourself included

he can’t stop himself from being near you or constantly doing favors for you though

he doesn’t invite you out or anything but he just likes being near you and being able to see you i guess

like he’s always looking out for you

he likes meeting you outside late at night and just talking to you

one time during your convos he let it slip that you were the prettiest person he’s ever seen and you ended up confessing to him after that

and they lived happily ever after

kokichi muta (sorry in advance)

this is a tough one since he’s kind of a robot for most of his screen time….

i think if he wasn’t mechamaru and he was an actual person he would be kind of cold but still soft towards you

like he wouldn’t necessarily be mean or nice to you but he’d bring you ice cream or something as a ‘here just so you know i actually like you’

he’s the type of guy to bonk u on the head

i think he’d probably confess with like chocolate or a flower but he’d be so nervous that he can’t even look at you while he does it but if you accept his feelings he can’t stop smiling

[hareofhrair]

I wanted to put this one the previous post but it was long and this is a tangent but- In regards to the hypothetical "If House was my doctor I'd just tell him everything. Rip to all his other patients but I'm different."

The whole point of the show is that you wouldn't. Like a major theme of the show is about how the various shames and stigmas and habitual dishonesties that plague our societies both metaphorically and literally kill us. "Everybody lies" isn't just a cynical catchphrase, it's the shows thesis. Because of how we operate as a society, everyone feels compelled to suppress and hide things and that inevitably leads to suffering.

And there are plenty of episodes where this is obvious, ie "I cheated on my partner and gave them an STD." But there's also much more of "This little girl went through early puberty and because of the way our society stigmatizes women's bodies her single father never discussed puberty with her and she was so afraid and ashamed of her new pubic hair that she tried to shave it without telling anyone and mutilated herself, leading everyone to think she'd been abused and throwing off the whole case until House figured out her hormones were going crazy because she'd been exposed to her father's low T medicine, which he hid because of how our society regards masculinity, which he started taking because he began dating a younger woman (because of shame stemming from our society's unrealistic expectations wrt sex in relationships) which he was hiding from his kids, because of shame regarding our societies toxic views on monogamy."

A particular episode stands out as a really good example. S06E15 "Private Lives," which aired in 2010 but was fairly prescient about where social media was heading. The patient was a blogger who documented literally every moment of every day for her followers. She made it very clear she left *nothing* out, from her and her boyfriend's sex life to, eventually, asking for feedback from her followers on whether to get her heart valve replaced with one from a pig or a "vegan" plastic one. She handed the whole blog over to House as soon as he took the case and the team poured through the whole thing. Surely this is proof you're wrong about everybody lying, the team says to House. She's give us her whole life and you still can't find out what's wrong! Spoiler, it turned out the crucial symptom that allowed House to put it all together? Was the one thing she *didn't* include in the blog- Her bowel movements. Shame and stigma around talking about *poop* nearly killed this woman. It was also a detail that should have been picked up immediately by a normal doctor, who would have asked about her bowel movements as part of the standard checklist of diagnostic questions. But this woman was so confident that she'd laid out every relevant detail of her life in her blog, she wouldn't answer those questions, obfuscating what she was actually ashamed of underneath a pile of curated, rationalized, narritivized junk she could pretend was proof of a lack of shame and not simply a skill at creative writing.

When I say "I'd just tell House everything" is ridiculous, I don't just mean "well, because of the way the show works, you HAVE to be hiding SOMETHING." I mean literally, you- because you are a human being- are ashamed of *something.* And because you are a human being, the more info you try to give House the more deeply you will bury whatever it is you're actually ashamed of. And, because of the way the show works, that *will* end up being the key to what's making you sick.

[mikamii25]

Hiiii, I’ve been thinking about headcanons for Mr. Scarletella and Mr. Silver (separated) if they somehow followed us back to the human world. Like, there’s no way these two could handle basic things without needing to hide their forms, right? I can totally see them ending up as malewives. Imagine the absolute chaos of them trying to adjust while also being ridiculously over the top about it. I’d love to get some headcanons of them in that scenario! ♡

HELP YOUR TOTALLY RIGHT. How would they even get around 😭

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Ok, so Mr Scarletella would DEF be a malewife. I mean, he’s literally so down bad for you. I have a feeling he’d never really leave your apartment. Unless it’s to stalk you when you leave.

he’d definitely would ask for you to teach him some stuff. He wants to know how to properly communicate to express his love to you. So you’d probably spend most of your day teaching him how to speak English (or whatever language you speak)

he would most likely bang his head on some door frames while trying to get around in your apartment, since he’s so tall.

it would be SUCH a struggle to find some clothes for him. You don’t want him to be in the same outfit every day, but his legs are to damn long, you can barely find any clothes that fits him (T^T)

he loves to pick you up into his arms (I don’t make the rules here) since your definitely very short compared to him. You’re literally as light as a feather to him.

it would probably be hard to fit him in your bed, but you’d eventually find a way. Probably spoon you from the back. Bro is a big spoon 1000% (since he’s so damn big)

would never shut up about him much he loves you and is grateful that you took him with you 🙏

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I don’t really know much about Mr sliver so this one is definitely short.. 😭

omg, let me tell you, Mr sliver would 100% be a People watcher. He try and learn lots about humans to try and understand them better. especially you.

He’s very interested in learning more about you. He could observe your behaviors all day. He really just loves to watch you! Especially while you’re sleeping. He likes the sweet look on your face as you are deep in sleep. So blissfully unaware of his staring.

you’d definitely have to stop him from leaving your apartment like no one wants to see a 7 foot tall man staring at them in public so you keep him in your apartment so he doesn’t scare anyone lol. It’s ok tho! He could never scare you!

he also very much likes to cuddle with you, SPECIALLY spooning you from behind! He really likes to just place his chin on the top of your head <3

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GAHHH HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!! Btw tags for other people that pretty much requested the same thing: @budijojo @chomichomas @mrwhitequeen

[germiyahu]

This phenomenon of so called Leftists throwing up their hands at the tiniest pushback, or criticism, or suggestions on how to not actively be antisemitic needs to be studied. Because what do you mean instead of just accepting that an antisemitic troll claiming to be on your side said "Zionist Occupied Government" and denouncing this and moving on with your life... you double down, defend, and deflect. It's classic DARVO, but like, when people are very patiently and slowly explaining how this is a literal KKK Nazi white supremacist fascist phrase, it's not enough? You don't care?

It's clear that the "pro Palestinian" left have been fully infiltrated by fascists, both Western fascists who have always been nakedly antisemitic and are finding the perfect avenue to mainstream their Jew hatred... and Islamist fascists who simply never cared that Jews are a global minority group that has faced oppression and violence in multiple different continents, they don't care about social justice or fundamental human rights. It's not part of their intellectual tradition.

The "pro" Palestine movement has been captured by people who have decided that a) Palestine is emblematic of all of the problems of the world, and that b) every Jew is worth sacrificing to correct these problems, because c) if Palestine is emblematic, aren't Zionists responsible for everything then?

Now the prevailing thought is that someone should be able to call for violence against Jews, someone should be able to harass or even assault Jewish Americans, because bringing it up, complaining, taking a stand, that's the equivalent of telling them you like children blowing up, you like hundreds of thousands of people being homeless and food insecure, you like prisoners being detained in Guantanamo conditions without due process, where anyone can torture them as revenge even if there's no proof they're an actual Hamas member.

Is there a reason they argue like Republican Fox News addicts? I guess that kind of explains how easily the "movement" is falling apart to literal fascists.

They say "nobody cares about your hurt feelings ZIONIST!" if you mention literal stabbings and firebombs. They say "but we should talk about how pervasively synagogues indoctrinate the vast majority of Jewish people with Zionist ideology." They roll their eyes because "don't you know Palestinians are suffering 200x what these cushy American Jews could even imagine?" Facts don't care about your feelings uwu~

But at the end of the day, they care a lot about their own feelings, much more so than the facts. They feel entitled to hate all Jews all over the planet, to secretly revel in antisemitic rhetoric and acts, to want to take out their impotent frustration and despair on any and all Jews they'd like. This is very much about their feelings and not any Jewish people's feelings.

They've been waiting for this, or many of them never cared at all. Now it's finally Leftist to quote Nazis and openly make fun of Jews who are getting stabbed. Now it's finally Leftist to call for incinerating all of Israel and maybe we should consider a lot of Diaspora Jews too, you know they can't be trusted! Oh but don't forget to honor the victims of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, innocent civilians should never have been targeted by America's vicious imperial violence!

The fact that it took this substantial contingent of watermelon twitter less than a year to go full mask off like this... is that revealing or troubling?

[thewickedjazzy]

‟𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭, 𝓝𝓪𝓴𝓪𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪?”➵ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴍᴅɴɪ

➵𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Chuuya x f! reader.

➵𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Enemies to Fuckers Lovers? it's been two years since you joined the port mafia and chuuya still gives you the cold shoulder like you’re some sort of personal vendetta. confused, you finally mustered up the courage to ask him straight up why he’s been acting like a dick? What’s his deal with you?

➵𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : NSFW mdni 8.9k of pure filth, smut with plot, oral (both giving and receiving) kinky sex, profanity, taboo sex, hatesex, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, standing sex, public sex, impact play, dirty talk, sweaty sex, cum visuals, risky sex, hand bondage/restrains, face-fucking/both of you, reader begging, multiple positions, also small font, I guess that's it? *phew*.

You sat at your desk, arriving earlier than anyone else in the mafia, as was your habit. You needed the quiet, the solitude, to unwind before the day’s chaos began. You held your favourite coffee cup, inhaled the rich aroma, and sighed. How long has it been? Two years, four months, and six days... yeah. When would you ever stop counting the days you've been single?

There was a strange duality to it. You hated and loved being single, a paradox you couldn't escape. You despised how your body ached for physical touch for intimacy, yet you relished the freedom of not being tied down to anyone. Maybe it was the aftereffect of that toxic, possessive relationship you barely escaped. But, oh, how you longed for the warmth of another human’s touch.

You've had your share of one-night stands in the past, long before your first real relationship. They were empty, fleeting encounters that left you feeling hollow. So, you stopped, refusing to return to that endless cycle of meaningless desire. Yet, lately, the thought of going back crossed your mind. But the idea of being satisfied by just any random man no longer appealed to you. It was a dilemma you couldn’t seem to resolve—a yearning for connection that couldn't be fulfilled by just anyone.

As you sipped your coffee, lost in your thoughts, the door to your office creaked open. You glanced up, and there he was—Chuuya Nakahara, the one person whose presence you both dreaded yet expected. He walked in with that usual air of authority, his expression already bordering on annoyance.

He handed you a file, his eyes narrowing slightly as he did so. "Good morning," he muttered, his tone curt, before turning on his heel to leave.

You watched him with irritation and confusion bubbling up inside you. Chuuya was one of the few people in the mafia who didn’t seem to act normal around you. Everyone else kept their distance, thanks to Mori’s strict orders. Your attractiveness had made you untouchable, quite literally. No one dared to look your way, let alone flirt with you. But Chuuya? He was different.

"Why does he hate me so much?" You wondered, frustration gnawing at you. You couldn't recall a single interaction between you two that didn't end in some form of argument or cold standoff. Working with him was a nightmare, a constant clash of wills that left you drained.

You opened the file he handed you, trying to push thoughts of him out of your mind. But it was no use; the way he acted, the way he seemed to go out of his way to be difficult, it all kept nagging at you.

As you tried to focus on the task at hand, you couldn’t help but wonder—was it really hatred he felt toward you, or was there something more hidden beneath that tough exterior?

The day passed in a blur of paperwork and meetings, with no further interactions between you and Chuuya. You crossed paths once, briefly, neither of you saying a word, just a cold exchange of glances before moving on. The tension between you two was palpable, but neither of you made any effort to break it.

As the evening set in, you stepped out of the mafia headquarters and onto the pavement, waiting for your chauffeur. The city was settling into its usual nighttime rhythm, the hum of distant traffic filling the air. You absentmindedly watched the railway, your mind drifting as you pulled out a cigarette. But before you could light it, you felt a few drops of rain on your hand. You sighed as you opened your umbrella with one hand while continuing to fumble with the lighter in the other.

After several failed attempts, you cursed under your breath, frustration getting the best of you. Just then, a flicker of light appeared in front of your face. It wasn’t your lighter. You looked up, surprised to see Chuuya standing beside you, holding out his lighter. His expression was as unreadable as ever, though there was a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

You leaned in, the tip of your cigarette meeting the flame. Taking a slow drag, you felt the warmth of the smoke fill your lungs as you watched Chuuya put his lighter back into his pocket, rolling his eyes as if lighting your cigarette was the last thing he wanted to do. He turned his gaze away, clearly disinterested.

You slipped your useless lighter into your pocket, holding your cigarette between your burgundy lips.

“Thanks,” you muttered, your voice nonchalant before taking another drag.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the only sound being the soft patter of rain against the pavement. You wondered what had prompted him to offer you a light. Was it just a reflex, a simple act of decency? Or was there something more behind it? Whatever it was, you knew better than to dwell on it.

You stood there under your umbrella, cigarette in hand, your gaze drifted back to Chuuya. He was waiting for his chauffeur as well, standing just a few feet away under his own umbrella. You couldn’t help but admire his features—the sharpness of his azure fox-like eyes, the softness of his lips, the perfect angles of his cheekbones. There was no denying that he was attractive, irritatingly so.

But the admiration quickly turned into something else—annoyance, frustration. Ugh, you hated him. No matter how attractive he was, that didn’t change the fact that you despised everything about him. The way he always seemed to be annoyed with you, the way he acted as if you were a thorn in his side.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize how long you had been staring until Chuuya suddenly turned and caught you. His sharp eyes locked onto yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you moved. Then, his expression hardened, and he glared at you with that familiar look of irritation.

You rolled your eyes, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had caught you off guard. You took another drag of your cigarette, trying to act as if you hadn’t been caught staring. But you could feel the tension in the air, thick and almost palpable.

He didn’t say anything—just continued to glare at you, as if daring you to make the first move. But you refused to play his game. Instead, you looked away, focusing on the rain that continued to fall around you.

As the silence stretched on, you couldn’t help but break it with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “Something on your mind, Nakahara?” His persistent stare felt intrusive, and you were fed up with the unspoken tension between you two.

Chuuya shifted his gaze forward, ignoring your question. His expression remained set in a scowl, the kind that suggested he was as tired of the situation as you were. He didn't bother responding, choosing instead to focus on the approaching headlights of his own chauffeur's car.

The lack of response only fueled your irritation. “Seriously, you’re just going to stand there and glare at me without saying a word?”

He finally turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with an exasperated look. “I’m not in the mood for conversation,” he said tersely. “And clearly, neither are you.”

You bristled at his words, the tension between you both palpable. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it. Or at least stop making it so obvious you can’t stand being around me.”

Chuuya’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t respond immediately. The rain continued to fall, the noise around you becoming a backdrop to the uneasy silence that had settled between you. Finally, he gave a curt nod, his voice low. “Whatever you think, just… keep it to yourself.”

Before you could retort, his chauffeur's car pulled up beside him, and he turned away, his demeanor shutting down the conversation. “Good night,” he muttered, stepping into the car without a backward glance.

As Chuuya’s car pulled away, you were left standing in the rain, feeling irritated. The brief encounter had done nothing to resolve the tension between you two; if anything, it had only deepened it.

You took one last drag from your cigarette before tossing it onto the wet pavement, letting the rain extinguish its smoldering end. You huddled under your umbrella, watching the darkening cityscape with a sense of disillusionment.

Minutes later, your own chauffeur's car arrived. You slid into the backseat, your mood sour and your thoughts swirling. The car's interior was a stark contrast to the damp chill of the evening—warm, dry, and oddly comforting. But even as you settled into the plush seat, your mind was still fixed on Chuuya.

"Why did he always act like that?" You constantly wondered, replaying the conversation in your head. It was clear he had some sort of issue with you, but what was it? The unspoken animosity between you was as frustrating as it was inexplicable.

The days following your brief interaction with Chuuya fell back into the familiar routine of terse exchanges and cold silences. The only time you and Chuuya spoke was during the occasional meetings or when you had to pass on files or reports. Those interactions were always brief and professional, but the underlying tension remained an unspoken barrier between you two.

The afternoons were typically consumed by paperwork. As one of the most trusted executives in the mafia, you were no stranger to the piles of reports, updates, and various documents that demanded your attention. Yet, there were always certain documents that Mori seemed to insist you stay away from, and despite your best efforts, you never quite understood why. It was an irritation that lingered in the back of your mind, adding to the daily grind.

One afternoon, as you sifted through a particularly dense stack of paperwork, you heard a knock at your office door. Tachihara, one of the trusted members of the organization, stood there with a polite bow. His presence was a welcome break from the monotony.

You looked up from your paperwork, surprised by Tachihara's visit. You hadn’t expected to be summoned by Mori, especially given how preoccupied he seemed lately with various secretive matters.

“Boss is waiting for you in his office,” Tachihara informed you, his tone respectful but direct. You nodded, setting aside the papers and straightening up.

“Thank you, Tachihara-kun” you replied, rising from your desk. You adjusted your skirt and smoothed out your appearance before making your way to Mori’s grand office.

As you walked through the maze of corridors leading to the boss’s office, you couldn’t shake the sense of unease. Mori’s meetings were often shrouded in mystery, and you never quite knew what to expect. When you finally reached his office, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door and waiting for permission to enter.

“Come in,” Mori’s voice called from within, and you opened the door, stepping inside.

Mori sat behind his imposing desk, his demeanor calm and collected as always. The room was richly decorated, with dark wood furniture and a few select pieces of art that spoke to his refined tastes. He looked up as you entered, his expression unreadable.

“My dear, please, have a seat,” Mori said, gesturing to the chair across from him. You settled into the chair, maintaining a professional posture as you awaited his instructions.

“I have a special assignment for you. It’s both simple and complex, and I need someone with your skills and discretion.” he said casually.

You nodded, bracing yourself. “What’s the mission?”

Mori leaned forward slightly, his hands steepled in front of him. “There’s a rising criminal organization that’s been making waves. We need to infiltrate them and obtain some critical information. The task is straightforward—get the information and report back.”

You listened attentively, already mentally preparing for the infiltration process. But then Mori dropped a bombshell. “Your partner for this mission will be Chuuya Nakahara.”

Your heart sank. Chuuya was, without a doubt, the most difficult person to work with in the mafia. The constant friction between you two was practically irritating, and the thought of being paired with him on a covert mission was daunting.

“Chuuya?” you echoed, trying to keep the disbelief out of your voice. “Are you sure about this?”

Mori’s expression remained inscrutable. “Yes. He’s one of the best we have, and his skills will be invaluable for this mission. I trust you both to handle it.”

Before you could voice more objections, Mori continued, “There’s another aspect to this mission. You’ll need to deliver a copy of the information to Dazai.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Dazai? But he’s—”

“—with the agency, yes,” Mori interrupted. “However, the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency are temporarily joining forces for this mission. It’s a strategic alliance, and Dazai will be the point of contact on their end.”

The mention of Dazai brought a flood of questions to your mind. You had heard his name in passing but knew very little about him. The thought of meeting him, combined with the fact that you had to work with Chuuya, was overwhelming.

“Can you tell me more about Dazai?” you asked, hoping Mori might elaborate.

Mori’s gaze turned distant for a moment before he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. What you need to know will be provided as the mission progresses. Just focus on the task at hand and coordinate with Chuuya.”

You felt a surge of frustration. “What about Chuuya and me working together? How do you expect us to manage that?”

Mori’s lips curled into a faint smile. “You both have your skills and abilities. It’s time to put them to the test. Consider this a chance to prove yourselves.”

With that, Mori dismissed you, leaving you with a heavy sense of foreboding. You rose from your chair and made your way out of his office, your thoughts racing. The mission itself seemed manageable, but the prospect of working closely with Chuuya and the unknown variables involving Dazai was already making your head spin.

You headed back to your office to prepare for the mission, the prospect of your new partnership with Chuuya hanging over you like a dark cloud. The thought of dealing with him on top of everything else was more than a little unsettling.

The next day, you met with Chuuya at the designated briefing point. His usual stoic expression never left his face, and you braced yourself for the inevitable tension.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said, barely acknowledging your presence. “The sooner we get in and out, the better.”

You sighed inwardly but kept your expression neutral. “Fine."

The mission went surprisingly smoothly. The criminal organization was unprepared for the level of infiltration and precision you and Chuuya brought. You moved efficiently, gathering the necessary intelligence and completing your objectives with minimal interaction. Chuuya’s demeanor remained as distant and curt as ever, his usual aloofness never wavering. It was almost as if he were a machine, functioning solely to execute the tasks at hand.

By the time you finished, you were both back at the car Mori had sent. It was an extravagant vehicle, a sleek black limousine with tinted windows and plush leather seats. The interior was adorned with rich wood paneling and ambient lighting, making it feel more like a mobile lounge than a mere car. The ride was comfortable, but the tension between you and Chuuya was palpable.

As you settled into the seat across from him, you tried to break the silence. “You did a good job, Nakahara,” you said, aiming for a tone of genuine appreciation despite the usual friction between you two.

Chuuya’s eyes remained fixed on the window, his posture rigid. “Whatever,” he replied curtly, barely sparing you a glance.

You frowned, the audacity!! “Seriously, you can’t even acknowledge a compliment? What’s your deal?”

He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a defensive glint. “I don’t need your praise. Just doing my job.”

You leaned forward, trying to gauge his reaction. “It’s not about needing praise. It’s about working together and showing a bit of respect. Why do you always act like this?”

Chuuya’s expression hardened, and he seemed to bristle at the question. “You think I’m just going to open up? Don’t flatter yourself.”

The defensiveness in his voice was unexpected, almost endearing in its own way. “I’m not asking you to spill your guts. I just want to understand why you’re so cold with me all the time.”

He shifted in his seat, his gaze still locked on the window but his voice softer. “I’ve got my reasons, alright? Maybe I don’t like dealing with people who make things complicated.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the hint of vulnerability in his words. “And you think I’m the one making things complicated? We’re both part of the same organization, Chuuya. We need to be able to work together without this constant friction.”

He looked at you, his eyes betraying a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or confusion. “It’s not that simple. I don’t know how to… change things.”

“Change things?” you muttered, and he did not respond but rather shifted his focus on the cityscape beyond the car window.

You watched him from across your seat, trying to decipher the complexity behind his cold exterior.

Despite his stoic demeanor, there was a certain magnetism about him. You couldn’t ignore the effect his presence had on you—irritating, frustrating, but undeniably compelling.

As for Chuuya? he certainly didn't hate you—he’d be a fool to think that! In reality, he was drawn to every part of you. The short black skirt and sheer tights that accentuated your plush thighs seemed to torment him, despite his efforts to ignore it. The struggle was evident in the way his fingers tensed and relaxed, and the subtle clenching of his jaw—it was all a clear sign of the internal conflict he was battling.

That day, when you bent down to pick up the paper that had slipped from your file. As you leaned forward, his eyes couldn't help but follow, and that's when he noticed—today, you weren’t wearing your usual sheer tights. Instead, the lace of your black thong was clearly visible, highlighting the soft, plush curve of your butt. The sight was enough to make his cock semi-hard aching for you, his breath catching as he quickly averted his gaze, struggling to rein in the sudden, intense desire that gripped him that day.

Chuuya had to muster every bit of self-control not to reach out, not to let his fingers trace the exposed skin that teased him so relentlessly. The image of your laced thong was burned into his mind, making it impossible to focus on anything else for the rest of that day. Every time he blinked, he saw you—bent over, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him. It was driving him nuts, how effortlessly you could push him to the brink without even realizing it.

That's why he had always kept his distance, his cold demeanour serving as a shield against both his growing desire for you and the need to comply with Mori's orders—after all, disobedience would mean his head on a silver platter. Yet, the more time he spent around you, the harder it became to resist the pull. Your effortless elegance and the way you leaned forward during conversations, with your shirt casually undone just enough to accentuate your perfect breasts, only deepened his torment, making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you, you—how breathtakingly beautiful you were.

The next leg of the mission was to meet with Dazai. As you arrived at the designated location, a chic café in a quieter part of town well, technically it was below the agency's base exactly, you tried to shake off the lingering tension from your interactions with Chuuya. You were greeted by Dazai, who was waiting with a relaxed yet attentive posture.

The moment you stepped in, Dazai's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration. He swiftly approached you, a charming smile on his face. “So, you’re the renowned beauty of the Port Mafia,” he said, taking your hand in his and pressing a light kiss to it.

Chuuya, who had followed closely behind, immediately scoffed, his irritation fairly noticable as he growled. “Back off, shitty Dazai.”

You offered a brief, polite smile but said little, your focus on the task at hand. With a practiced ease, you handed over the copy of the information to Dazai. There was no need for further pleasantries or small talk; the mission was complete, and your departure was already on your mind.

After a terse farewell, you left the café, yet you wanted to know more about him. Why did they call him the demon prodigy? He looked like an angel.

Back at the headquarters, you and Chuuya were debriefing with Mori. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension, and as usual, Chuuya was terse and uncooperative. You handed over the details of the mission, and Mori's response was as enigmatic as ever.

"Excellent work," Mori said, though his gaze lingered on you as if gauging your reaction to the assignment. "I trust you both performed to the best of your abilities."

You nodded, and once Mori dismissed you, you left his office and made your way back to your desk. The weight of the day's events still hung over you.

Over the next few days, you threw yourself into paperwork, using it as a distraction. But the nagging thoughts about Dazai grew harder to ignore. When you finally finished your backlog of documents, you decided to act on your impulsivity.

You made your way to the Archive Storage Room on the second floor of the building. It was an area that prohibited from visit, and you were confident that you wouldn’t be disturbed. You took extra precautions, ensuring that no one was following you before entering the room.

Inside, the dim lighting and the smell of old paper greeted you. The Archive Storage Room was filled with rows of filing cabinets and dusty boxes. You approached the computer in the corner, its screen flickering to life as you powered it up.

You typed in "𝙾𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝙳𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒" and watched as the search results loaded. The information that appeared was both astonishing and unsettling. The screen displayed details about Dazai’s criminal history—records of his rise in the underworld, his notorious reputation, and an extensive list of crimes.

Youngest mafia executive in history. Counts of conspiracy to murder, extortion, and assorted fraud. The numbers were staggering: 138 counts of conspiracy to murder, 312 counts of extortion, and 625 counts of assorted fraud, among other serious offences.

As you absorbed the details, you felt a chill. The contrast between the man you had seen and the criminal profile on the screen was jarring. Was Dazai truly as enigmatic and multifaceted as he seemed? Or was there something more sinister beneath his charming exterior?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a noise outside the room. You quickly shut down the computer, your heart racing.

You froze for a moment, listening intently to the sounds outside. It was faint but persistent, suggesting someone was approaching.

Suddenly, you noticed a door to a nearby storage room that seemed to lead somewhere different. It was marked as a liquor store room and had a password lock. You hadn't known the combination, but lucky you, the door was slightly ajar. Without thinking twice, you slipped inside, hoping it would provide some temporary refuge.

The room was dimly lit, filled with rows of bottles and crates stacked haphazardly. You stood in the middle of the room, trying to steady your breathing and listen for any signs of movement. Just as you were about to move further into the room, you felt a firm hand grab your arm and yank you backward.

A hand was pressed over your mouth, muffling your gasp. You were pulled into a tight corner of the room, hidden behind a stack of crates. Panic surged through you as you struggled.

"Shhh, you're gonna get us caught," a familiar voice hissed.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the voice—Chuuya?

He kept his hand firmly over your mouth, his breath warm against your ear. You could feel the tension in his body as he pressed you back into the corner, his own form shadowy against the dim flickering light coming from the outside of the archive room.

"Don't make a sound," he murmured, keeping his voice low. His eyes darted towards the ajar door, watching for any sign of intrusion.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered fiercely, trying to keep your voice down. “And why are you hiding with me?”

Chuuya glanced around. His expression was clearly uneasy. “I was following you. I knew you’d be up to something. Mori has his eyes on you, and I didn’t want you getting into trouble. We need to get out of here before someone finds us.”

You stared at him, bewildered by his unexpected appearance and his protectiveness. “I didn’t ask for your help, Nakahara.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze scanning the room. “I didn’t ask to be put in this position either,” he muttered.

As you and Chuuya pressed against the tight corner, the proximity of your bodies intensified the tension. His breath was warm and rapid against your neck, carrying the distinct scent of alcohol—had he been drinking before following you? The dim flicker of light from outside illuminated his azure eyes, half-lidded and filled with a mixture of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. His hands rested beside your small frame, effectively trapping you in the confined space.

The close contact made your heart race. You could feel his heartbeat pounding in sync with your own, a rhythmic reminder of just how near you were to him. His hot breath against your neck and jawline was almost too much to bear. The sensation made your stomach sink with... pleasure?

It had been a long time since you were this close to anyone, let alone someone as fucking Chuuya Nakahara. The air between you was charged, every movement of his body against yours making your cunt clench around nothing dripping with arousal—fucking get a grip! Are you really that desperate for him?

As the footsteps continued to echo outside, you remained still, acutely aware of every sensation. Then, suddenly, it registered—you felt the unmistakable bulge press against your thighs. The realization hit you like a wave, and a surge of desire took over your whole body.

Your mind was suddenly consumed by a singular, overpowering urge. Despite the circumstances and the years of walls you had both built around yourselves hating each other's guts, the thought of pressing your lips against his beautiful pink ones was almost overwhelming. The attraction, once a mere undercurrent, had become an undeniable urge that you couldn’t ignore.

Chuuya’s eyes fell to your lips, a soft pink tint colouring his cheeks—whether from the alcohol or something more. A few strands of hair stuck to his temple and forehead, damp with sweat, as his breathing grew increasingly erratic. The closeness between you, along with how delicious and obedient you looked beneath him, made every second feel like an eternity. You both knew that one move, one breath too close, could change everything.

You swear to heavens that you tried desperately to focus on anything, but the overwhelming sensation of his twitching bulge against your thighs was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

"Chuuya.." Your curiosity got the better of you, as you whispered, “Why are you protecting me?”

You shifted slightly, feeling the unmistakable pressure of his bulge growing with each passing second against your thighs.

“Shut up,” he snapped, his voice still low. Before you could react, he crushed his lips against yours, kissing you deeply and passionately, tasting every bit of you as if he wanted to savour the moment completely, to memorise how hot your lips felt between his wet ones.

His lips moved against yours with an intensity that took your breath away, his hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. The tension that had been simmering between you two finally erupted in this heated moment.

You could feel his body pressed firmly against yours, his heartbeat thudding wildly in sync with your own. His other hand slid down to your waist, pulling you against him. The sensation of his hard length pressed against your clothed aching core sent a shiver through you, making you beg for more, how much did you miss this? Not the touch from any other man, but a man like him.

His lips left yours only briefly, his breath ragged as he pulled back to gaze at you. His azure eyes were dark, filled with desire. His cheeks were flushed, and his usually composed demeanor had completely unraveled. “I fucking hate you so much,”

You stared at him, still breathless from the kiss, your mind reeling from the sudden turn of events. The desire that you kept buried for so long surged to the surface, impossible to ignore any longer. The way he looked at you, with such raw need despite his words, sent a jolt of heat straight to your now-dripping cunt.

“Oh...I can tell, but no matter how much you hate me, you still want this.” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard you.

His lips crashed onto yours with a fervent, insatiable hunger. His kisses were wild and demanding, each one more fervent than the last, making your stomach crumble in desire, the way he sucked on your lips, titling your head to deepen the kiss, tongue darting inside your hot mouth and dancing with your own, hot saliva dripping from your lips as he continues his open-mouthed kissing, hot breaths mixed together with low whimpers.

He suddenly pulled away, breaking the intense kiss. He held up a hand, signaling for you to stay quiet as he focused on the sounds outside the liquor store room. The muffled footsteps that had been approaching earlier now moved away, growing fainter with each passing second. He strained to listen, his sharp senses alert. After what felt like an eternity, a distinct thud echoed through the room as the door to the archive storage slammed shut. Whoever had been snooping around was now gone.

“They’re gone,” Chuuya whispered, more to himself than to you, as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Without missing a beat, you lowered yourself to your knees before him, your eyes never leaving his. Chuuya tensed, watching your every move, he frowned his eyebrows, eyes half-lidded with desire. His usual confidence wavered for a split second, and he mumbled, “This… this is a bad idea.”

But you didn’t care. The heat between you was too much to resist, and the thrill of what you were about to do only fueled your desire. Ignoring his words, you pressed your face against his clothed cock, feeling its hardness through the fabric. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his as he stared down at you, his expression a betraying an overwhelming lust.

"Just let me taste you... please." Wait—did you just beg him? What is wrong with you!

“Fuck…” he cursed under his breath, his voice strained as he clenched his fists, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But the way you looked at him, your lips so close to his aching cock, the heat of your breath making him shiver, combined with your desperate, pleading tone, was more than he could bear, he just couldn't hold back.

His hips jerked slightly, a reflexive response to the heat of your breath seeping through the fabric.

You could feel his length twitch beneath the cloth, and a thrill ran through you at the power you held over him in this moment. Your fingers trailed up his thighs, brushing over the firm muscles hidden beneath his clothes, before finding the button of his trousers. You deftly undid it, feeling the tremor that ran through his body at the simple motion.

“Hmm doll..” he rasped, his voice hoarse with need. His hands twitched at his sides as if fighting the urge to reach out and grab you, to pull you even closer. “Mori would have my head on a platter. Do you really want that? You should stop—mm, fuck…”

But the way his cock strained against the fabric, begging for release, told a different story. You ignored his half-hearted protests, slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers and boxers to free him. The moment his thick, throbbing length sprang free, you couldn’t help but admire the sight before you—his flushed cock, already slick at the tip with precum, practically pulsing with the need for your touch.

Your lips brushed against the head, tasting the salty sweetness of his arousal. Chuuya groaned above you, the sound vibrating through the small room and setting your nerves on fire. His hand finally found its way into your hair, tangling in the strands as he fought to keep control of himself.

“Argh… doll,” he groaned again, but there was no longer any resistance in his tone. Only raw, unfiltered need.

You licked a slow, deliberate line from the base of his cock to the tip, savoring the way his breath hitched, his grip tightening in your hair. Then, without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him as you sank down, taking him as deep as you could.

“Fuck! Hmmph” Chuuya cursed, his hips bucking involuntarily as you began to move, your head bobbing in a steady rhythm. The gloved hand in your hair tightened, not to push you away, but to hold you in place, as if he couldn’t bear to lose the sensation of your warm, wet mouth around him.

You could feel him trembling above you, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each passing second. His other hand came to rest against the wall, steadying himself as his control slipped further away.

Every time you glanced up at him, you saw the struggle on his face, the way his normally composed expression had completely unraveled into one of pure, desperate desire. His azure eyes, usually so sharp and focused, were now dark and heavy-lidded, consumed by the pleasure you were giving him.

“Doll…,” he gasped, his voice rough as he looked down at you, eyes blazing with more lust. “Stop looking at me like that.”

But you didn’t slow down, didn’t stop. Instead, you doubled your efforts, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him deeper, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head with every upward stroke. You could feel him twitching in your mouth, the telltale sign that he was close, so close.

“Shit… Haah— doll, I—” Chuuya’s mere warning came out in a choked groan as his hips jerked forward, his control finally snapping. He tried to pull away, but you didn’t let him, keeping him locked in place as you took him to the hilt, swallowing around him as his cock twitched spilling out ropes of hot cum into your mouth with a ragged cry.

The taste of him flooded your senses, hot and salty, and you swallowed every drop, your tongue working to coax every last bit of pleasure from him. Chuuya’s body shuddered with the force of his release, his hand loosening in your hair as he struggled to catch his breath.

Finally, when you were sure he had nothing left to give, you pulled back, licking your lips as you looked up at him. His eyes were half-lidded, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he stared down at you, still breathless and trembling.

You grinned up at him, your heart still pounding in your chest as you savored the sight of him, thoroughly undone and utterly at your mercy. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before following me,” you teased, your voice laced with playful defiance.

He scoffed as he pulled you up to your feet, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, almost desperate kiss. His hands gripped your hips, holding you close as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. He could feel the remnants of his release still on your tongue, the taste of him mingling with the intensity of the kiss.

When he finally pulled back, his breath ragged and heavy, you thought that might be the end of it. But then his eyes darkened with renewed hunger, and you realized he wasn’t nearly done with you.

“You think I’m finished doll... hmm?” he rasped.

Before you could respond, his hand, now fully beneath your skirt, slid higher, tracing the curve of your inner thigh as he pushed your legs apart with his perfectly toned ones. The rough pads of his fingers met the delicate lace of your panties, and he tugged them down with a swift, impatient movement, letting them drop to the floor.

You gasped as his hand moved back up, fingers brushing over your aching core, slick with need. The sensation was too much, each touch sending sparks of pleasure in your stomach. His breath hitched as he felt how wet you were, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Fuck, doll... already s‘ wet from just sucking my cock?” he muttered against your lips as he lets out a shaky chuckle. His fingers circled your clit, teasing, before slipping between your folds, one finger then two and now three? You arched into him, your back pressing against the cold wall. His long neat bare fingers curling inside you expertly to find that spot that made your knees weak—when did he manage take off his gloves?

You bit your lip to keep from crying out, the sensation overwhelming, but he wasn't having any of it. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Let me hear you, doll face.” he whispered, his fingers moving faster, slipping inside you with a sudden, rough thrusts. The sensation ripped a moan from your throat, and you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself, your nails digging into his white dress shirt shirt.

Chuuya chuckled, his lips brushing against the side of your neck "You smell s‘ delicious. Did you wear that perfume just to tease me, hmm?" His fingers deftly unbuttoned your shirt with one hand, his other hand continued its relentless, fast thrusts inside you. When he finally exposed your laced bra, he paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing with appreciation as he took in the sight of the perfect curve of your soft breasts. "Matching bra and panties—it's as if you're begging for it. Were you scheming something nasty in that pretty head of yours?"

He yanked the cups of your bra down, exposing your breasts to his hungry eyes. His hands were quick to follow, kneading and squeezing as his hot mouth closed around your hard nipples, sucking and nibbling with a soft whimpers indicating that he's enjoying it as well. He continued to finger you, his pace growing more insistent.

You were lost in the sensation, your head falling back as he played with your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers slipped in and out of you, curling just right to hit that perfect spot that made your vision blur with pleasure.

“Chuuya... please,” you gasped, not even sure what you were begging for, but desperate for more. The heat between you was unbearable, the air thick with tension and the scent of sex.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

Without warning, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and desperate for more. You barely had time to protest before he spun you around, pushing you against the cold wall causing you to gasp from the surprise switch.

His hands gripped your hips, as he positioned himself between your legs and lining himself up with your entrance, his tip pressing against your slick folds.

With one swift thrust, he buried himself inside you, filling you completely. The sudden stretch made you cry out, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the sensation overwhelmed you. He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he began to move, each thrust deep and hard, driving you closer to the edge with every stroke.

“Fuck, you feel s‘ good, s‘ fucking tight fuck fuck-” he growled as he kissed and sucked on you exposed neck.

The sound of skin against skin echoed in the small, dimly lit room, mingling with the sounds of your moans and his ragged breathing.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Fuck! I hate you ah— so fucking much.”

His words sent a thrill of something dark and intoxicating through you, the blend of pleasure and pain blurring the line between hate and desire. You could feel him everywhere—his cock driving into you with relentless force, his breath hot against your skin, his hands roaming over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You were losing yourself to him, the pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, every whispered curse and growl pulling you further into the abyss of raw, unfiltered lust.

“I hate how much I want you,” Chuuya hissed, his voice ragged with need. “I hate how fucking good you feel… how your walls tighten around my cock—ahh fuckkk.”

His pace quickened, his hips slamming into you with desperate intensity as he chased his own release, dragging you along with him. You could feel the tension building in your core, your body coiling tighter and tighter until you thought you might snap.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, you did. The orgasm surged through you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and gasping for air.

Chuuya wasn't far behind, his own release following seconds later as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot ribbons of cum shots. He held you close, his body shuddering against yours as he rode out the last waves of his orgasm.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the harsh, ragged breathing of the two of you, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Chuuya stayed inside you for a moment longer, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

When he finally pulled out, you both were left panting and spent, your bodies trembling with the aftermath of your intense orgasm.

he didn't waste a moment. With a swift motion, he lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and placed you onto one of the crates. The cold metal pressed against your hot bare skin.

Before you could catch your breath, he reached up to his neck, unfastening the choker that adorned his neck. Without a word, he grabbed your wrists and wrapped the choker around them, securing it tightly before locking you against another one of the crates behind you.

A wicked grin spread across his face as he dropped to his knees, his eyes dark with hunger while he looked up at you. He spread your thighs wider, his gaze fixed on your glistening core. The sight of you, flushed and dripping with the evidence of your shared passion, seemed to drive him wild. He leaned in, and just as his lips brushed your sensitive skin, he muttered, "Give me another one, I'm not letting you leave without drawing every tiny bit of you sweet cum."

Then, his mouth was on you, hot and relentless. You gasped as his tongue traced a path along your plush folds, teasing, tasting, savouring the mix of you and him. His hands slid up your thighs, holding you in place as he delved deeper, his tongue flicking and swirling in a way that made your head spin.

“Chuuya…t‘ much” you moaned as your hips bucked against his mouth despite your overstimulation. The sound of your own voice, desperate and breathless, echoed in the small room, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the incredible sensation of Chuuya’s tongue, expertly working you towards another peak.

He hummed in delight, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core. His tongue moved with precision now, alternating between soft, teasing licks and deep, penetrating thrusts that left you a trembling mess. He knew exactly how to push you to the brink, then pull back just enough to leave you aching for more.

“Fuck, you taste even better like this,” he growled against your flesh, his voice low and rough, filled with raw desire. He licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, before capturing the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching off the crate as you cried out in pleasure.

“please Chuu—ahh…” you let out a lewd moan, your voice hitching with every flick of his tongue. The need for release was a burning ache in your core, your body trembling as the pressure built higher and higher.

Chuuya’s grip tightened on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh as he held you in place. “I want to taste every drop of you. I'm not stopping until you come all over my face.”

His words, coupled with the relentless attention he lavished on your clit as you gasped, your body arching against the restraint as you instinctively pushed yourself against his hot tongue. The crate you were bound to groaned under the pressure, and with a sharp pull, it slid forward, causing a cascade of bottles to crash to the ground. The noise was loud, shattering the stillness of the room as glass broke all around you.

The impact sent you both tumbling to the floor, your body landing hard against the cold concrete. The crate you were tied to was now stuck between the wall and a stack of other crates, trapping your stretched arms above your head in a makeshift prison. For a brief moment, panic flashed through you, but Chuuya didn’t pause. It was as if the crash had only fueled his desire.

He growled, as you flinched and tried to push yourself upward, worried that you might have hurt him or that the situation was getting out of control. But he had none of it. His grip on your hips was iron-tight, and with a fierce pull, he dragged you back down to meet his hot wet mouth once again.

“Don’t even fuckin’ think about moving away,” he hissed roughly. His breath was hot against your sensitive clit as he resumed his assault, his tongue thrusting deep inside you, tasting every inch of your dripping core.

You were helpless to do anything but succumb to the overwhelming sensation. The position was awkward, your wrists still bound to the crate, but it only seemed to heighten the intensity of the moment. The cold floor pressed against your bare legs as Chuuya feasted on you like a man starved, completely pussy drunk, lost in the taste and feel of you.

Your body trembled with each flick of his tongue, and despite the crash and the chaos around you, all you could focus on was the incredible pleasure he was giving you. Your moans filled the room, echoing off the walls as you tugged against your restraints, needing to touch him, to feel his soft ginger locks between your fingers, to touch his utterly hot body.

Your vision blurred, your body straining as the coil of pleasure tightened in your core. “Chuu… please d-don't stop… ” you begged, your voice trembling with need.

Chuuya pulled you up slightly, roughly guiding you to straddle his lap. You were positioned over him, your knees planted on the floor as you faced him. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady. Without missing a beat, too overwhelming by your approaching orgasm you roughly sank onto his hard cock with a moan, feeling the intensity of his renewed desire. His cock was impossibly hard again—his third time getting erect tonight, as if he hadn't felt this kind of craving in years.

“Yess haah fuck yes doll... hmm take it, just like that,” he growled, his voice a low rasp. You began to move, riding him with a fervor, squeezing the life out of his thick cock with every thrust.

His cock pulsed inside you, and you could feel every throb as you moved with the crate still precariously lodged above your head and your hands bound, you were completely at his mercy.

"Fuck— I can't get enough of this" he gasped.

His words were a mere backdrop to the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you. Each grind was powerful, driving you to the brink of madness. His grip on your hips was possessive, pulling you down onto him with a force that made every motion even more intense.

Your legs trembled, muscles aching from the effort, as if you'd just finished a strenuous leg workout. He let out a shaky chuckle, feeling the quiver of your legs against his skin.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted up a bit thrusting fast enough to make the crates shake, the remaining bottles crashing to the floor. The chaos around you seemed to enhance the wild energy between you. His hands moving to pull you down harder onto him, continuing his relentless assault on your now sore and overstimulated cunt.

You could feel the pressure building within you. The room was filled with the sounds of your desperate moans and Chuuya’s heavy breaths and lewd moans, the chaotic noise of broken bottles and the groaning crate only adding to the fevered atmosphere.

“Chuu—aaah fuck fuck fuck-” you gasped, your voice cracking as you struggled to keep control.

his hands tightening on your hips as he forced you down harder onto him. “Come all over fuckin’ my cock doll ah-,” he demanded roughly with his raspy voice cracking.

The combination of his unrelenting thrusts and the intense friction made your vision blur. You could feel the coiling pressure in your core reaching its peak once again, your body straining and trembling with need. The final push came when Chuuya’s movements grew more erratic, his grip on you tightening as he thrust into you with a force.

“Fuck fuck yes yes fuck me hard like that— don't stop please” you cried out, your voice breaking as the wave of orgasm crashed over you. Your body shuddered violently, the intense pleasure overwhelming every sense. The sensation of release seemed to go on forever, each pulse of your orgasm made your ears muffle with intense.

Chuuya wasn’t far behind. The moment he felt your juicies coat his rock-hard cock and drip onto the concrete beneath you both, he let out a loud lewd moan. His cock pulsed and throbbed inside you, each powerful spasm forcing him into an explosive climax. His grip on your hips tightened as he filled you with a forceful bursts of his cum, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

Chuuya, breath still heavy, fixed you with a wicked grin. “Seems like you could use a bit of help,” he said, his voice raspy from the intensity.

With a casual flick of his hand, he activated his gravity ability, and you felt the familiar shift in weightlessness and the red glow blinding your blurry eyes as your body was lifted off the ground. You gasped in surprise, feeling a thrill of anticipation as he gently guided you back onto the crate.

He carefully manoeuvred you into a sitting position on the crate. His touch is probably the best thing you've ever experienced in your entire life. As he adjusted you. His choker, which had been used to bind your wrists, was now in his hands. He unfastened it with deliberate, methodical movements, freeing you from the constraints.

“Better?” he asked, his tone a playful tease.

You nodded, catching your breath as you settled back onto the crate. The initial shock of the gravity shift had left you momentarily disoriented, but Chuuya’s presence was surprisingly comforting. He looked at you with a soft gaze, taking in your fuck-out appearance and the satisfied glow in your half-lidded eyes.

Chuuya’s smirk softened into a rare, genuine smile as he helped you off the crate, guiding you as you clambered down, the aftershocks of your climax still making your legs tremble slightly. His eyes remained locked on you, full of a possessive warmth.

"Careful now," he said, his voice soft but tinged with a lingering edge of command. "Don't want you falling over after all that."

You managed a shaky smile, feeling the rush of adrenaline and pleasure slowly ebbing away. Chuuya's hands were gentle as he helped you steady yourself, his touch tender despite the fierce passion that had just unfolded.

"Thanks," you breathed, finally finding your footing. "I didn't expect... well, this."

He chucked moving with a practiced ease as he pulled his pants up. He adjusted his belt, fastening it with a flick of his wrist and adjusting his choker around his neck.

You carefully buttoned up your shirt smoothing out any wrinkles trying to regain some semblance of composure, Chuuya leaned in one last time, his lips brushing against your ear. “This changes nothing,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “I still hate you.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, trying to stifle a smile. There was no heat in his voice, only a lingering tension that promised this wouldn’t be the last time you found yourselves in such a situation.

Despite his dismissive tone, Chuuya moved with surprising gentleness as he helped you out of the cramped storage room. His hands, wrapped around your waist guiding you carefully, ensuring you didn’t stumble as you both made your way back into the dimly lit corridor.

As you approached the elevator, you whispered, “Never doing this again.”

Chuuya chuckled, a low, amused sound that echoed in the quiet space. “Yeah, never,” he agreed, his tone laced with irony.

But deep down, both of you knew the truth. The words were merely a facade, a way to mask the undeniable reality that this—whatever this was—would indeed happen again. And again. And again.

NOTE: Hi, hi, my lovely pookies!! Since this fic won the poll voting, I started by publishing it first. The next one will be published *finger crossed* maybe by next Friday? if not before then, also I wanted to take a moment to thank you for all of your lovely comments and sweet feedbacks Xx. P.s : chuuya’s photo credit to @pigon_51 on Twitter / X.

➵Want more of Chuuya Nakahara?

©2024 @thewickedjazzy ─── please do not copy, translate, or post on any platform.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen act with their writer s/o

requested by anon ^^

masterlist

seungcheol

he is begging. he is on his knees BEGGING you to pls let him buy you a new laptop because the one you use is literally on its last legs and makes ominous sputtering n whirring sounds like a dying cat stuck in a vent every time you start it up. you don't let him tho bc “no cheol the memories :(((“ cuz you've had it for years but he is nearing the end of his tether and who knows. in a few days ur laptop may mysteriously disappear forever and you'll be forced to let him buy a new one

jeonghan

he's like the pet cat you don't own who likes to slink into the room and make inquisitive noises as he watches you work. drapes himself over your shoulders and makes distressed huffs when you try to dislodge him. he's never usually noticeably clingy, but when you try to write, the clinginess always springs out and you can't go five minutes without jeonghan poking his head into the room to check up on you and see what you're up to

joshua

your biggest fan. buys every single novel you write, puts on his glasses, and reads them very seriously in one go on the very evening it's released with the lamp on beside him. he looks so serious every time, but he'll always peer at you over his glasses and then give you a big grin, telling you how much he loves it. gets you to sign a copy for him and brags to everyone he knows that he has your signed novels with special messages just for him that no one else can have

junhui

he's your personal general knowledge bank. when you're searching up obscure things and slowly losing hope on finding an answer, just ask junhui and he'll either a) know the answer or b) knows someone who knows someone else who knows someone else else who knows the answer. don't ask him how to spell words tho bc he's like. hopelessly bad. blinks at you going “what's an [insert word]” before you give up and google it yourself

hoshi

alwaysssss wants to know what you're working on right now. gets all whiny when you get possessive of your work and refuse to show him before it's finished bc come on, it's surely perfect already, why are you trying to hide it from him?? loves helping you do, like, the non writing stuff. writing out plot? nooo. building fantasy maps, figuring out political systems, getting lost on a tangent on figuring out the price of beans in the 1800s? hell yeah sign him up!!! 

wonwoo

knows all the grammar rules in the world. you can ask him stuff like “hey wonwoo can i put a comma here or no” and he'll amble over to peer over your shoulder and tell you whether you can or cannot, in fact, put a comma there. helps you curate all your writing playlists for the different moods you have. gently reminds you to get back to writing whenever you end up scrolling on instagram for too long

woozi

you're even more of a workaholic than he is when in the zone, so he gets to realise how unhealthy it is to be sat in front of a computer for hours straight with no break. you get to act as each other's “let's act like a normal human being now” reminders, depending on which of you is going through a work fixation. you guys both go on runs together in the mornings even though it kills you bc at least it gets both of yo brains kickstarted to spend a day being all creative in ur respective fields

minghao

you value his opinion above anyone else's. above your beta reader's, above your agent's, even above your editor's bc those are more like advice, not opinions. but knowing that minghao likes your work, and knowing which parts in particular he really likes, is so important to you because ultimately, you want the person you love to also love the things that you create. 

mingyu

brings up the fact that you're a writer in every conversation he has with anyone ever. “oh my god look, this menu has writing on it. speaking of writing, my s/o writes actual books as a job!!!!”. your agent made him sign a contract similar to an NDA bc he just keeps yapping about your books even when they haven't been released yet. loves the noises you make whilst you're writing. thinks it's the cutest thing ever when you make overjoyed “AHA!!” sounds when you finally realise what the plot is doing

dokyeom

more than willing to be your rubber duck and let you talk at him until u figure out your own plot holes. he could be in his room scrolling on his phone but the minute you call for him, he's leaping up and bounding over to you and pulling up a chair in an instant, more than willing to let you bounce ideas off him. sits there doing nothing but looking all pretty as you talk at him and work out the tangle you've gotten yourself into. beams and gives you a big kiss when you manage to figure it all out. 

seungkwan

he buys you a biiiig wheely whiteboard and a bunch of coloured board pens to help you plot your novels. when you get stuck, he comes over and stares at the board with his hands on his hips, very gravely considering your dilemma and what would be the best way to get you out of it. you two talk about plot holes like it's the most serious thing in the world and he just nods like a proud father once you both find a solution

vernon

at this point he's like. a professional tea and coffee and biscuits supplier due to the amount of snack runs he does for you. has walked in on you lying face down on the floor during a meltdown one too many times to bat an eye anymore. also great at helping you block out actions during scenes like. he's the perfect doll. lets you maneuver him into the weirdest positions in the world with zero complaints. he just loves helping you however he can, really. 

chan

reads through your drafts whilst you're in the middle of writing, accidentally gets hooked and is begging you every day to finish the novel bc he really wants to know what happens next. he's the best at spotting inconsistencies and plot holes in ur writing so before you even send it off to your beta reader, he gets to have his hands on the manuscript to check for any changes needed. also bc he needs to read the ending asap otherwise he'll probably combust. 

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