#but i do miss the place they had in my life and being able to just text someone and see if they wanna hang out

[bumblingbeezzz]

I agree more with the insight that they basically just wanted a situation where they thought they could be important. The shooting POC thing is a bit of a wild leap. Like, there's some overlap, but I really think those traits are not connected to a desire for a post-apocalyptic world. We're talking about dudes who watched the Walking Dead and thought it made for good vacation plans from the drudge of average modern life. Okay, admittedly I was somewhat in that ballpark at one point. Never been the least bit conservative, but in my fantasies I found the idea of living in apocalyptic scenarios to be thrilling. Terrifying af (zombies are one of my worst fears), but thrilling. I liked the idea of having surplus resources to just go out and gather in pre-processed and pre-packaged form for free, enjoying the empty liminal spaces of abandoned places, and eventually just starting civilization over from scratch. Not because I thought there was anything so wrong with the world that it needed to be scrapped Biblical-flood style (other than feeling generally overcrowded and thinking about the taxing effect of every person's carbon footprint on the environment) I just, well I don't know really, I probably never truly wanted it because I never liked the idea of huge amounts of people dying, and I'm sure being in survival mode all the time would've gotten old pretty quick and I'd miss being able to chill with all the glory of modern conveniences. Part of the supposed appeal was definitely seeing various characters fail so badly at surviving because of really basic failures of common sense and safety, I guess it had that weird effect on me that I was eager to try and do better. Go figure. I am wiser now, hopefully obviously. If faced with that outcome, I'd probably kill myself pretty early on, maybe right off the bat, just to avoid a more horrific death. Or maybe I'd try for a bit, see how long I last, I dunno. Maybe I'd make some friends, help them stay alive. People who, just four Sundays ago, were going to movie theaters and posting on their socials, posting pictures of themselves in their new favorite outfit. Now are spattered with dried blood and mud, they wear slings and pouches, make-shift armor of plastic tubing and duct-tape. People who've been hardened and weathered the way the sun dries leather; by the choices they've had to make, the losses they've endured, and the emotional armor the've had to construct to adapt to this unforgiving new world. Well, it's definitely something more suited to exploring in fiction.

[cosmicjoke]

I wanted to add on to my initial answer to the anon ask I just got about Isayama confirming that the Ackermans lost their powers with the end of the titan curse.

I was talking to a mutual recently about this, and they said something that I think is so true, that it's actually such a positive, that Levi no longer has his Ackerman powers, because in truth, his strength was always such a burden to him. I think there was a lot of pain and a sense of guilt and failure in Levi that was rooted in his strength, for the fact that, despite it, he still lost so many people he loved. I think Levi must have often felt like he either wasn't using his strength well enough, or that he simply wasn't strong enough, for it to make a difference. Again, the reason Levi felt so compelled to use his strength to help others in the first place wasn't because of the strength itself, but because of his innate compassion and empathy. This mutual of mine also said that the ways in which Levi is able to help now, like handing out candy to children and planting trees, etc... is better for him, because it's more reflective of who he actually is inside, and that also is so true.

I've long maintained that Levi was never naturally inclined toward violence. I think Isayama intentionally contrasted Levi's story in "Bad Boy", the story of how his Ackerman powers awakened, with the panels of Eren killing Mikasa's kidnappers. Eren was always naturally inclined toward violence, and that's reflected in how really effortlessly he instigates and attacks Mikasa's kidnappers, how he had such a well-thought-out plan going in of how to kill them, etc... When you contrast that with Levi and his "plan" to retrieve his mother's tea set, it's really stark, because Levi went in without any sort of idea of how to fight back, of how to retrieve his mother's tea set, and when he was attacked, he didn't even fight back until they started insulting his mother, and even then, his initial attempts were totally ineffectual.

Levi was never a violent person, or someone who reveled in violence. He was only forced into becoming violent because of the desperate circumstances of his life. And that really highlights the tragedy of Levi being made into a human weapon, even if it was for a good cause. His Ackerman powers put him in a position that went against his very nature, in my view, for how they forged him into a living weapon. Because he felt he had to use them to help people, and the most effective way to do so with his strength was through physical brutality. But that was never who Levi was or is. He's a kind and compassionate man who cares deeply for other people. I think, deep down, Levi has always been a gentle person.

And that also brings up another point which I've argued again and again. We aren't meant to morally condemn Levi for being violent, we're meant to morally condemn the circumstances and the injustices of the world that forced Levi and every other character in the story into such extremes. When I see people accusing Levi of being "morally grey" or "morally wrong" for killing, it makes me want to rip my hair out. It absolutely destroys me that these people don't see the actual cruelty of judging and condemning someone for failing to be a pacifist when pacifism would get either them or other people killed. That they miss this crucially important distinction in AoT destroys me, too. AoT was never telling its audience that the people committing acts of violence should be condemned or judged for it. It was telling its audience that the unfair and unjust circumstances that pushed them into a corner and left them with no choice but to be violent is what we should be condemning. And I think no other character better demonstrates the tragedy of that than Levi, again, for how the cruelty and unfairness of his life forced him into becoming something he never was.

So, yeah, in many ways, Levi losing his strength is a blessing, because it allows him to be who he really is. His strength only ever forced him into embodying this role that wasn't reflective of his true nature. A "lunatic that kills people", as he said. Who Levi really is, is the man we see at the end of the anime, handing out candy to children. The same as in the many moments throughout the story that show Levi's great compassion, like him giving Petra's patch to Ivan, him comforting a dying soldier, him helping Historia to bring the orphans from Underground to the surface, him saving Ramzi, etc, etc...

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Was daydreaming abt a far future in the immortal au and had an epiphany

For now that's just an What If, but. Still

Been having fun talking with some friends abt it

Long after the pizzaplex closes down. Years and years down the line on the domestic arc.

Perkeo misses working with children. They've done that a good part of their long life, and they had so much fun at the daycare.

Sun and Moon miss working with children, too. That's what they were made to do. The time they spent away from that felt like a part of them was missing.

Opening another daycare probably wouldn't be the best idea — yk, trademark and all.

But what about an orphanage?

With Perkeo managing everything. Sun being in charge of teaching the children and playing with them. Moon making security and putting them all to bed. Maybe getting the old glamrocks to help out — chica in the kitchen, Freddy helping look after all the little ones, Monty helping with security and being the cool uncle that makes everyone exercises every once in a while that takes the children to places.

They all looking after kids 24/7 for a few decades. Maybe that's the new project to pass the time they all set on doing.

I don't think I've ever seen an au with an actual orphanage setting. But the thought was very heartwarming on my brain

Can you imagine an accidental but very big protection squad because most kids get aware of the fact that there's something weird abt the orphanage director and the other workers get a lot of shit because they are all machines but those are basically their Parents so yk what. They are keeping that secret and also fuck you if you're mean to any of those guys. Legion of protective little kids that turn eventually into legion of protective adults

No a single adult figure there is fully mentally stable but I think all the children would be. They would grow up in the coziest place without a worry and full of unconditional love. The house would be big and they would run around wherever. There'd be grass to lay on and it's probably far off enough to see a few starts in the sky

Sun and Moon would be able to call these children theirs, for a change. Maybe they had longed for that

I feel like Perkeo would have avoided raising a child themselves as if it's their own. That's too much for them to handle. Outliving your own child. But it probably feels different when it's a group you take care of. Maybe if feels like they are back at the daycare, looking after stranger's children. There's a distance between them and the little ones. They can live with that. This much is fine. And look how happy Sun and Moon look. Yeah, this much is fine.

[shiftymimilily]

what do you think happens to realities after we leave? say i want to leave my current reality because i’m sick okay so i shift, is this “version” of me not real anymore or am i just not conscious of their pain? i’m having a philosophical crisis because i love myself and i don’t deserve to suffer at all yk so i kinda want to stay in “bad” situations to help myself out and i don’t know if this line of thinking even makes sense but i would appreciate your perspective on it

I know, it's not really directly about permashifting, but I think my experiences here are relevant to it. So I hope you sit down and listen for a bit.

A thought about permashifting from both sides of the coin.

Well, firstly, thank you. Somehow, you got me to unlock some of my past memories from my permashift going here. I intentionally locked them behind certain checkpoints I believe so I can access and relearn them again in due time, and I think this was one of them. Funny on how it goes full-circle here. So, instead of an answer, I give you, hopefully, a peace of mind.

I went through a similar crisis back then: What would happen to myself in the reality I was in right now old if I had left permanently? I’ve seen and experienced both sides in a sense. I was in your place, as my "other-self" as I will call them, and I am perhaps where someone wants to be when they go to a new place. In the "new place". Wouldn't it be so selfish to leave people behind? To leave A PART of myself behind?

Then I realized, this was me. Both are me. We’re not separated, ever. This is what WE want. In a sense, I can live in peace with their suffering because they suffer in my name and I gave them meaning to suffer because I was what gave them, or that self, the will to go through suffering. They’ll forever be my other-self, and that’s what they wished to willingly to be. What I wished to be. They'll forever have existed somewhere, as part of you. That is unchangeable.

You're such a beautiful soul to be so considerate. I assure you however that they'll be okay because I know I'm okay. Have faith. You're okay. Truly. Just breathe. You don't have to stay somewhere you don't have to, and we don't have to go anywhere if we don't want to. Whether we stay or go or return, life goes on, and that's not something to be scared of, but to embrace. It’s not wrong to want to be in another space. Your guilt and shame, is natural. However, on the grand scale of things? It's okay. My current existence here as a self is help enough to help the other-self I was.

I won't be able to answer what absolutely happens when we go to another relait. I don't think beings like myself are supposed to anyway. Maybe the world ceases to exist, maybe it doesn't and it's its own thing. I have my theories of course, but acknowledge I don't know how this sector of the multiverse works, nor do I need to. You say it's okay for yourself now and it will be, and that's more than enough for it to not be selfish. If you're willing to let yourself go somewhere, then let go. Approval had been given a long time ago when you decided to go another place.

But if it does, I can safely say they'll move on without you. They'll do whatever they'll do. Go through grief. The suffering. You also miss out on the healing. The smiles. The moments in the future of whatever timeline that is. It's bittersweet. You won’t know what happens or what's happening to them, but you have to trust yourself as you right. This is the wish: that's what you can respect. That this other you might not make it the way you wish them to, but they will have lived and that’s more than what the universe can ever ask for with a shifter. As a shifter. To exist. To manifest. To shift. To be.

[kurifucs]

My first fic ever! I am nervous to say at least but I tried my best! So I hope you all will like it ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

(And English isn't my first language so sorry for all the mistakes.)

Ahh, you loved Gojo being dominant. Taking the lead. Being on top. His big pale hands wrapped perfectly around your pretty throat that he loves to mark with both kisses and hickeys that won't leave your neck for days sometimes even weeks. Not that you mind of course. But what you also loved. Maybe even preferred over his dominant side was how much of a begging slut he was. It was always after he left for a mission that took days and the only thing he had left of you in those days/weeks were photos of you in different scenarios: some of those photos were you lying down on your couch while being focused on the show you loved. Others were you face down and ass up. And the second thing was your beautiful pink panties he bought you last month.

But the minute he stepped inside your shared apartment the second he saw you. He immediately walked over to you not saying anything other than falling onto his knees right in front of you and tugging on your shorts as well as your panties. You let out a gasp as took both of the clothing off of you so fast that you weren't able to even process it. His hands went to the pretty things he loved when they were wrapped around his head, squeezing the life out of him. You tried to push him off of you only to be met with those blue eyes you fell in love with seeing tears in them and a pout on his pretty lips.

"Please, baby...I missed you so much. Let me make you feel good..."

It wasn't unusual for Satoru to be begging. Whenever he was you loved to tease him a bit but seeing the teary eyes you just nodded while your cheeks heated up. Gojos eyes immediately sparkled and a smile appeared on his handsome face. He immediately dived in between your legs dragging a moan out of you at the harshness.

Few minutes passed and you still were in the kitchen. But now you were seated on the kitchen counter as Gojo continued to eat you out like a man starved. And you would think that all of the moan and whimpers would come out of your mouth. Well, you're wrong. Satoru was the one who was letting out such a slutty sounds. Whimpering while sucking on your clit. His nails digging into your thighs and making them squeeze his head. As if he wanted you to squeeze his head until it popped. Almost an hour passed by and Satoru didn’t stop. His knees started to ache but he didn't care as he shamelessly continued to let out such noises that you would hear in porn but no. You had it between your legs.

Your vision was blurry. Your whole body shook and you felt like passing out. After almost two hours of Gojo being between your legs you, have already squirted twice. But that wasn't enough for Satoru because he could tell that you were getting close to the third squirting of the day.

"Come on baby...g-give it give it to me please baby..I'll do anything just give it to me..."

He said his voice whiny as his two fingers worked inside of your pussy that was being abused in a good way. Tho it didn't take long for you to squirt onto Satoru. And Satoru was the happiest man in the world at the moment. And you thought it was all over but no. Satoru picked you up with ease and walked over with you to the couch. He placed you underneath him and started to take his pants off.

"You think I was done? No no no, baby...I'm just getting started..."

[icewindandboringhorror]

It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.

Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.

[waterflowing-under-ground]

Tell your good friends

You love them all doubtlessly

Wordless and senseless without reservation

Now's the time

Now's the time

Now's the time

Now's the time

Tell your good friends you love them without complaint

This road stretched for miles, straddled the countryside

Licking the hills with autumn decay

A fire that burned the bright gold covered forest down

This is the end of all that you thought was good

This is the end of reckless young energy

Breathless suspense and restless potential

This is the end

This is the end

This is the end...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This song from an obscure indie band from the mid-2000's I saw live once, opening for Andrew Bird when he was still just breaking into the scene and played small venues came to mind as I've been sitting with and processing grief that's aged 15 years, and reflecting on my most significant friendship of a quarter century, all because I decided to re-read Andrzej Sapkowski's The Witcher saga. It hit me hard then, but it's hitting differently now as a 40-something.

When I was 26 (I'm 41 now), I lost a close friend who was 27 years old at the time. I was very involved in post-death events after he died (suddenly, expectedly, and unfortunately, violently).

I helped his mom (who is also sadly no longer with us either as of a few years ago) clean his belongings out of his apartment which was one of the most surreal and disconcerting experience of my life.

She gave me the textbook from an undergrad class he and I happened to attend together years prior (we had known each other outside of the community college we took that class at, but being in that class together was the catalyst for becoming as close as we did) and all of his comic books.

I was asked to contribute to the eulogy for his celebration of life. I spent so much time with his family. I had vivid dreams about him nearly every night. And I didn't cry, not really, for several weeks. I was in shock. He was 27. It was not real. We'd had plans to hang out the Friday before he died (which happened on that following Monday) and I cancelled because I was tired. But the last time I heard his voice, it was a cheerful little chat on the phone. I remember he said, "awesome sauce, let's try again when you're feeling better." And it was not real.

Well, it wasn't real yet. Until it was. And it hit me all at once one random afternoon when I was sitting alone in my living room. It was quiet. And it was suddenly real.

The immediate post-death events were done and there weren't any more planned. And it hit me suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, that he was really gone forever, that I'd never see him or speak to him ever again, that this wasn't just a nightmare that I was having that I would wake up from any moment now. My dear, sweet, lovely, funny, intelligent, loyal affectionate, outspoken, wildly eccentric friend was gone. Forever.

That's when I heard a voice come out of my body I'd never heard before, something that sounded like it wasn't even coming from me or even a human being. I was screaming until my throat went raw, and then I was sobbing. I've never screamed like that since.

And I was alone. Just me and my grief finally catching up to me, weeks after my friend had gone. Me and the debt, the price I had to pay for loving someone, for the precious 8 years of friendship we had shared. Because I think of grief as the debt we pay for being able to love.

So tell your friends how much you care about them, how much you love them. It's not too mushy to do that. It's not too sentimental or cloying or whatever negative label someone wants to slap on being affectionate and demonstrative and vocal about your love for someone. It's important. I like to hope I did a decent job of showing him while he was alive, I hope he knew, but I always wish I'd done more, said more.

With the other friend in my life who I consider equally close to my heart, my BFF of 25 years, I recently decided to tell her I love her using those exact words and telling her how important she is to me. In this post about the Witcher (in particular the Geralt and Dandelion friendship), I mentioned that my friend tends usually not to be the touchy-feely type (but that it doesn't make her any less loving or caring or supportive because she is all those things to be clear). If you read that post it'll hopefully make sense why I brought that up.

But in any case, I saw her recently and decided to tell her some things. Because, to be honest, my Witcher re-read (because the Witcher has much to say about grief and loss along with myriad other aspects of the human experience and human conceits) got me thinking about my late friend who I lost over 15 years ago, and my best friend now, who I cherish and love with every part of me, who has seen me through so much, has seen the ugly bits of me as well when I was at my lowest, and who still loves and supports me, enjoys me because she loves me for who I am, considers me enough (as I am, in my unfiltered form in all my autistic and mentally ill glory), and chooses me after all this time. Because I am enough. And for me, she is enough, I love every part of her, I've seen her through low times and when she wasn't well, and I still chose her because she's my friend, my person, and I wouldn't change a single thing about her. We have both made mistakes and hurt each other's feelings in the past at times (not on purpose but still owned it), but real repair was done in those cases, and it made our bond stronger. And that's real, and as I'm learning as I get older, RARE.

I decided that it was the right time to tell her I love her, actually saying the words, and I was nervous she'd be embarrassed, but to my elated surprise, she was touched, told me she loves me too, and we had a sweet and heartfelt conversation about our history, our love and affection for each other, and our amazing friendship that we're so lucky to still have after a quarter of a century, a deep abiding trust in each other, and how we hope to be old and cantankerous together. She is just as important to me as my live-in partner, and I wanted her to know that. I'm so glad I told her because she clearly appreciated hearing it. And I'm relieved and feel peace after telling her, and after hearing her say the same things to me.

Anyway, people, please tell those important people in your life how much you love and care about them, because they need to know, they need to hear it, and it's important. Because nothing is permanent. Losing someone you love will never be easy, even if you do tell them you love them, but it's still important to do so.

"When he heard the death rattle, Gilgamesh moaned like a dove. His face grew dark. 'Beloved, wait, don't leave me. Dearest of men, don't die, don't let them take you from me.'"

- The Epic of Gilgamesh

"Who are you? You are no one that I know. I am Gilgamesh, who killed Humbaba And the Bull of Heaven with my friend. If you are Gilgamesh and did those things, why Are you so emaciated and your face half-crazed? I have grieved! Is it so impossible To believe? he pleaded. My friend who went through everything with me is dead! No one grieves that much, she said. Your friend is gone. Forget him. No one remembers him. He is dead. Enkidu. Enkidu. Gilgamesh called out: Help me. They do not know you as I know you."

- The Epic of Gilgamesh

"Gilgamesh wept bitterly for his friend. He felt himself now singled out for loss Apart from everyone else. The word Enkidu Roamed through every thought Like a hungry animal through empty lairs In search of food. The only nourishment He knew was grief, endless in its hidden source Yet never ending hunger." Herbert Mason, Gilgamesh: A Verse Narrative

[wolfisland]

dont get me wrong. i am absolutely a problem, often. im very cutting and blunt a lot of the time. people tend to find it funny til they realise i am deadly fucking serious. i definitely have anger issues. im a "i forgive you but i wont forget this" type. but i dont think im unkind, genuinely. i think it was just jarring for a lot of shitty people in my life when i stopped letting them treat me like shit. which makes sense, i just disrupted the fuckhead routine of like 6 white autistics. woe are they. but really honest god gun to my head i cant bring myself to feel bad about it. half of those friendships made me feel like shit about myself anyways.

[rosicheeks]

-

[g1-skywarp]

Ahaga fuck the college shit is getting wirse

[evilcatgirlwizard]

feeling bad 👍

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

why didn't they just use franziska for literally all of this.

[orcelito]

I guess I should start looking into apartments for next year. I don't know where I'm going to be working after I graduate yet, but I'll have a car by then, so it shouldn't matter too much. And I'm hesitant to move when I don't know where I'm going to end up... but I will be honest, I cannot live in this place for another year. They've increased the rent by a literal 50% since I started living here 3 years ago, the air conditioning doesn't work, I have to do laundry by *coin operation*, and worst of all there is no patio or balcony to speak of. I need outdoor seating!!! For my mental health!!!! Adding in the fact that it's far too cramped with all the furniture I got from my dad...

Yeah. Even if I only live there for a year, I Got to move.

Gonna be working on sorting through all the shit in my apartment, especially the boxes from my dad. Once I get a car, I wanna make it my personal project in the next year to cut down on the shit that I own. Go through my old clothes and donate anything that I Never wear and Never would. The goal being that by the time I do move, I want there to not be a fucking boatload of shit to move. There's still all this furniture but like. Eh. Ya kno. Still wanna make it better than it could be.

[shoyudon]

𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ

them forgetting a date night.

starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"

note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.

the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.

but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?

clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"

you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.

"y/n . . . why did you—"

"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.

for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.

"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"

before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.

"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.

"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."

gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"

"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.

──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.

the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.

walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.

sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.

three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.

maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.

your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.

"what?"

"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."

scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."

you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."

"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.

sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."

you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.

all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.

"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."

dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.

despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.

it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".

wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.

he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."

you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."

toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.

"bye, toji. good luck."

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

------

Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[reidrum]

you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.

A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽

summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you

wc: a short n sweet 1k

cw: none, tooth rotting fluff

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With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.

You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.

There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”

He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“

The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”

Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.

A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”

His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”

You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”

You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.

Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.

He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.

But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.

“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”

“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“

“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”

Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”

He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”

It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.

“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.

“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”

Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”

You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”

A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”

The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.

But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.

“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.