#hmm not sure how I feel about the pacing of the second half

[maeedrg]

Happy birthday, Satoru

Birthday Boy Gojo x Reader

ᯓ★

Synopsis : in which you surprise Satoru for his birthday, and he realizes how this day is not as bad as he thought, and how much you mean to him.

Words count : 3k

Warnings : tooth rooting fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst, it takes place before the canon events of the manga but years after Suguru deflected.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I just had to write a fic for his birthday… At first I had no idea what to do, but yesterday it suddenly came to my mind ! Enjoy babes <3

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December 7. It was Gojo’s Birthday, and you were the only one to remember it right now. Maybe through the day people would indeed remember, obviously, after all. But you wanted to be the first. You took pride in it. Midnight, and barely one minute passed. You knew that Satoru was still in his office downstairs, working on files that the stupid higher ups gave him. Again. An amount of endless paperwork, actually. For once, Satoru still being busy with work at such an unholy hour was perfect for your plan.

You take your phone, dial his number, and call him, excited. Yet you try to keep it hidden, to not be betrayed by your tone of voice. You couldn’t get caught. After some seconds, he answers and you sigh with relief.

“Y/n ? Calling me so late, do you need anything ? Got into trouble ?” teases Satoru, tired way of speaking, and you can hear the shuffle of paper behind him at the same time.

“Hmm, yes. It’s very very important. Can you come on the rooftop of the school ? Like… now,” you fake a worried and slightly panicked voice. Well, you were indeed worried just by knowing Satoru must be beyond exhausted at this hour of the night, or day. Even though he would never admit it. He was like that.

“Wow, wait- It’s that important ? Is it a curse ? I don’t feel anything off, though,” he raises his head, keeping his phone against his ear and looking around, squinting his eyes to see anything with his cursed technique. Yeah, nothing. 

“No, not a curse. But it’s urgent, come,” you try to hurry him, biting your lower lip as you pace around the ground of the rooftop, wind making you shiver in this cold weather.

“Here I’m thinking that you are about to confess to me,” Satoru jokes, and you were sure a stupid smirk was on his lips. You roll your eyes, unable to stop smiling at his teasing.

“Satoru, I’m being serious here,” you huff, squeezing your phone tighter against your cheek as you stare at what you prepared, getting impatient. You didn’t deny him, though. That’s what he was thinking, and that makes him grin.

“Me too. I wouldn’t mind some gut wrenching love confession. But alright. I needed a break from all these stupid papers, anyway. I’ll be here soon,” he chuckles, before clearing his throat. You say bye, and turn off your phone. Nervosity directly makes your heart hammer in your chest, growing even more agitated. You just couldn’t wait.

You stand, in front of your little surprise, taking it in your hands and looking up at the starry sky. You take a deep breath, and then Satoru teleports in front of you. The moment you see him popping -long used to his random way of appearing out of nowhere- you extend a big strawberry cake with dozens of candles in front of you.

“Happy birthday !” you exclaim, huge fat smile on your face, eyes half lidded of joy, the flames of the candles slowly moving in the cool air of the night.

Satoru freezes in front of you, partying his lips and being left speechless. Completely and utterly speechless. With one hand, he pulls down his blindfold, revealing his eyes wide open. You could see the chock in his blue orbs, he clearly didn’t expect that. He lets out a somewhat nervous laugh, eying down the cake, and then you. A smile stretches his lips.

“Y/n, what-... what is that ? MY birthday ?” he asks, stepping closer, and licks his lips staring down at the tasty looking cake, then at your pretty face. He couldn’t believe his own eyes, and his heart swells at the thought of you doing this for him. How sweet. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot your own birthday. We’re past midnight, so it’s officially your day ! December 7, Sir,” you chuckle, a bit exasperated at the idea that he could fail to remember his own anniversary. Even though it wouldn’t surprise you. Satoru bites his lower lip, and passes his hand over his clearly beyond exhausted face.

“Shit, I did. I was so caught up with work these days, I barely noticed we already were in December,” he starts to explain himself, nervously laughing at how stupid he felt. He raises back his head, and meets your gentle stare. You extend the cake again.

“It’s alright, Satoru. I didn’t forget. So blow your candles,” you insist in a softer voice, and Satoru felt like he died a little at the ‘I didn’t forget’ that you said. He stays silent for some seconds, which was very long coming from someone like him that always was yapping every moment of the day. He takes a deep breath, inhales it, and then steps closer.

“Make a wish first”, you whisper, and he locks his orbs with yours, smiling, before closing his eyes. He looked so pretty, you thought, the orange lights of the flames dancing on his pale skin. When he opens them back, you wonder what he wished for deep in his heart, and he blows his candles. The flames disappear into the night, the smoke lingering in the air.

“What was your wish ?” you can’t stop but ask. He grins, patting your head as he tilt his faces to the side.

“Uh-uh, can’t tell you, or else it won’t come true,” he refuses, winking at you. You grew even more curious, but didn’t insist. Satoru really wanted his wish to come true, after all. A wish that meant a lot to him. 

“That’s right. Now let’s get you a slice, birthday boy !” you exclaim happily, maybe even more excited than he was himself.

You turn around, in front of the table that you managed to bring on the rooftop, which was a hassle, and all the other stuff that you needed. Leds illuminate the table, and you take a knife and hum as you cut the cake. Satoru stays speechless again, and he notices small gifts at the feet of the table. No way. His smiles get even more softer, and his eyes stare right back at your form.

“Here you go ! I went to buy it at your favorite bakestry earlier during the day. I swear, I was eying it down all afternoon and evening… It looks so tasty,” you explain, and he takes the little plate and spoon you gave him as you turn around to prepare your own slice.

“Thanks, y/n,” he says, a bit more seriously than usual. But as you turn again towards him, he harbors back his usual goofy smile as if nothing happened. 

“You’re welcome.”

You both take a bite, and sigh at how tasty it was. The cake was definitely worth the wait, and Satoru beams of happiness as he nods and hums.

“I just ascended to heaven,” he jokes cheerfully, munching and almost devouring the whole slice. You laugh slightly, and he looks back at you with a smirk.

“You can have more. The cake is all yours, actually,” you muse.

“Well, I’m sharing it with you, so it’s not all mine…” he corrects, showing with his chin the slice you are eating. You huff, rolling your eyes.

“Obviously, I bought it !”

“Nah, it’s just me being generous right now,” he retorts jokingly, and you finish your slice as you shake your head. You both put back the plates on the table, and Gojo walks towards it, looking around with curiosity.

“You really did all this, for me ? I mean, I know I’m amazing, and that you just love me so much, I’m Gojo Satoru after all,” he starts in a fake overly prideful way that makes you squint your eyes, leaning against the railing of the rooftop, “but I didn’t expect all… the effort,” he finishes more calmly, looking back at you as you smile tenderly.

“Of course. You told me that your birthday was just another regular day for you, another year older. You never made a big deal out of it. So, I decided it wouldn’t ! It’s a special day, and it’s yours. It’s a reminder that I’m grateful that you were born, and that I was able to meet you and become your friend. I’m happy that you’re here, on earth, with me. I’m happy to celebrate this day. I’m happy to have you in my life, and I’m happy to see you grow older a little more,” you explain, looking at the buildings of the school under you, and further away, the lights of the city of Tokyo deep in the darkness of the night. 

You didn’t know Satoru for that long, actually. Barely more than a year, meeting him last september. You studied in another city during your teenage years, and became a sorcerer for another part of your life somewhere else. You moved not so long ago to Tokyo, meeting the Great Gojo Satoru that quickly became more than a coworker. Way more than you both originally thought. 

He didn’t talk much about his past, everytime it was vaguely, but he always showed how he felt disconnected to his birthday. For him, it was the day he came to earth, how the second he was born the burden of the world was already on his shoulders. The boring day people of other clans would wish him a happy birthday, without actually caring about him, and instead directly remind him of his position. The day he couldn’t even celebrate with his own parents, from which he got separated early in youth. The day he wished never happened. The day he felt so lonely, more than he let people think. The day he once liked to celebrate in the past, when it was with Geto Suguru, but it was long forgotten. The day he now was too busy to even think about. The day he even forgot himself, because who cares, anyway, if not even his own person.

In the quietness of his non answer, you decide to continue, feeling like the mood shifted.

“I even prepared you gifts ! It actually took me time to pick them, since you kinda already own everything you want…” you spat, turning and squatting down to grab one of the gifts. You chuckle to yourself and stand back up, only to be met with Satoru looking right back at you, with an expression you never saw him have before.

Tears. Tears were at the corner of his beautiful eyes that were wide open in shock at your earlier words. He was unmoving, wind making his hair swing left and right gently. You gasp, not expecting that at all. Because it was the first time you saw Gojo Satoru cry. 

“Satoru ? Are you okay-” you start to say concerned, but then he turns off his infinity, and suddenly grabs you, making the gift fall at your feet. Thankfully, it didn’t break. But you have no time to think about such things, that his strong arms wrap around your body and cradles you close against his warm chest. His face is deep buried in your neck, and you swear you just heard him sniff. 

“That means so much to me, y/n. I didn’t even know it would mean anything, actually,” his voice is almost struggling to sort out the words of his throat, strained. He tightens his grip around you as if he was afraid to let go, and you can’t help but hug him back as strongly as you can.

“I’m glad, Satoru,” you whisper softly, and he kisses your neck affectionately. You shiver at the touch. Or maybe it's because his lips are warm, in duality with the coldness of outside.

“I don’t know if it’s better than the love confession I imagined,” he tries to joke to lighten the mood, voice muffled in your shoulder. You let out a laugh, nudging him.

“Well, birthday boy, anything you want for your day. But first, take your gifts,” you look up at him, and he lifts his head from your shoulder to stare at your eyes for a few seconds, not answering. You both stay like that in a short lingering moment, eyes staring back at each other.

“Ah yes, the gifts. I’m excited,” a big smile forms on his lips. You step back, and take on the floor the first gift. You give it to him, and he almost squeals at how overly delighted he was. He was a grown ass adult, but looked like a little boy right now. It made your heart melt just by doing this comparison in your mind.

“What can it be, what can it be…” he chants, looking at the box and then back at you as he slowly unwrapped it. Then, once he is finished, he is met with a limited edition figurine of a character of Digimon that you managed to find after some research, someone selling it back on a website. His eyes open wide, gleaming with surprise and adoration.

“No fucking way ! Are you serious right now ?! No way ! What ?!” he exclaims loudly, as if all energy got summoned back into his body and he opens his mouth wide, turning the box around to look at the figurine. 

“Like it ?” you laugh, crossing your arms behind your back and looking at him lifting the gift towards the sky. He looks back at you.

“If I love it ? Y/n, if I could, I would be marrying you on the damn spot right now,” he says half seriously, half joking, or maybe he wasn’t joking at all. He kisses the box, and then he snakes his arm around your waist to bring you closer to him, and he kisses your cheek loudly in a big exaggerated smooch. You laugh, happy of his reaction and feeling relieved that he liked it that much.

“It’s my dear baby now,” he sighs as he looks at it, then back at you, smirking.

“Take good care of it,” you nod, and he hums as he puts the box on the table, “oh yes I will,” he adds.

“I have another gift,” you cheer, squatting back down to grab the second object. 

“You are spoiling me, I feel like your sugar baby,” Satory says, and you raise an eyebrow at his joke.

“You are the rich one here. That would be more financially accurate if you were the sugar daddy in this relationship,” you correct, and he rolls his eyes, pouting childishly.

“I’m your sugar baby in spirit, then,” he corrects as you extend the smaller box.

“Yeah, that would be. But this one is not a big deal, it’s more like a little bonus,” you explain, and then he smiles as he takes it in his hands. He slowly unwraps it, more carefully, and he discovers a cd with on the transparent box some sweet words with a doddle that you wrote and drew on it.

“You always say how you like my music tastes, and insist on listening to songs with me, so I made a playlist especially on a cd just for you. Most of the songs remind me of you, actually. Listen when you have time,” you describe, and he holds it in his hands as a soft smile forms on his face. 

“How can you be so sweet ? Seriously…,” he sighs, laughing nervously as he rubs his face and looks back at you. “Thank you, Y/n. Really, I mean it. Thank you,” he oh so gently says. He puts back down on the table the cd, and you stand again in front of the railing, looking at the city farther away.

“You’re welcome. But it’s only normal, Satoru,” you give him a smile as you answer, and he leans against the railing too, but instead it’s his back against it. He stares at the moon.

“You make it special. I’m not used to what you call normal”, he lets out a somewhat nervous chuckle, some uneasiness in his voice.

“But, birthdays should be like that,” you whisper, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“I don’t know. I went to more funerals than anniversaries. And celebrating my birthday is not really… a thing. I don’t have the time to care about it,” Satoru shrugs, nonchalantly, as if it really didn’t matter the slightest and that his indifference wasn’t a big deal.

“I do care,” this time you turn your head to look at him. He stares back at you, and then smiles as he slides his arm before you on the railing, and then brings you closer.

“I know,” he murmurs gently, kissing your hair, “you made me care about it, right now,” he continues, and you lift your face to be at the same eye level as him.

“Mission accomplished successfully, then.” You wink at Satoru, and he nods, letting out a laugh at the same time as you.

“Very successful, actually.”

He looks at your eyes, and you notice how his twinkle from the light of the stars up your head. He brings his hand on your cheek, and softly caresses your cold skin, thumb gently rubbing your lower lip.

“I was serious when I said that it meant so much to me, you know ? You really made me feel vulnerable here,” he whispers, and you feel your heart flutter. You melt a little at his touch.

“Did I ?” you know you did, after all you saw the tears on his eyes, even though Satoru normally never cries. But you didn’t mention it.

“Hmm hmm,” he hums, the corner of his mouth lifting up. He leans slightly towards you, only a breath away.

“You said anything I want for my day ?” he continues, tilting his face slightly, his voice just a murmur and vibrating against your skin. His lips brushes for a second against yours.

“Anything,” you confirm. He narrows his eyes happily, and you knew what he meant.

You softly lift yourself on your tiptoes, slide your arms around his neck and then under the starry sky and magnificent moon, you gently press your lips against his in a tender kiss. They mold on yours, and Satoru lets out a breath of relief when he finally, finally feels your mouth against his. It’s like an apocalypse, heart beating fast in unison and feelings overwhelming. His hands cradle you closer, one around your waist squeezing you tighter. Satoru thought that your kiss was the best gift he could have, to be honest. It was so much sweeter than the strawberry cake, and he already craved more.

Then, as you part slightly away, breath mingled and lips still brushing together, you whisper : 

“Happy Birthday, Satoru.”

THE END

[xiayannie]

𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 24𝐓𝐇 — 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬! ღ

↳ scaramouche

you happened to get stuck in a suggestive manner, and scaramouche can't resist helping himself have his way with you before he gets you out

cw(s): afab! fem! reader, cliché trope, lingerie, bows, doggystyle, cum, he calls you a slut and whore, hinting of a blow job and long night near the end | 𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

"I'm home."

SCARAMOUCHE let out a sigh, feeling relaxed now that he was home, but suspicious as soon as he didn't hear a "welcome home!" from you.

he wandered to the living room, quirking up a brow at the unusual and amusing sight.

there was a comical red and green Christmas themed gift box in the middle of the room, slightly ajar as your bottom half was left hanging outside of the box, your ass in full display for SCARAMOUCHE to see.

he came up behind you and gave you a loving little tap on the bottom, surprising you as you let out a shocked squeak.

"what happened here, hmm?"

"...I wanted to try getting into the box to surprise you, but the lid of the box is heavier than I thought... and now, I'm trapped here."

"help me out, would you?" the sound was a bit muffled, but scaramouche for sure, heard you.

"what do I get in return? there's no more surprise left for me with you stuck here like this." he hummed, grasping your hip.

"how about I get my present early, and then I let you out?" SCARAMOUCHE purred, lightly slapping your ass, caressing it afterwards.

"...fine. just don't ruin my lingerie or any—" riiip!

"oops."

SCARAMOUCHE already ripped the flimsy and thin fabric off, tossing it aside with a cocky grin, you imagined. "I'll buy you better and prettier sets, love."

SCARAMOUCHE rubbed his fingers against the lips of your cunt, spreading the lips and letting out a whistle as he felt and watched his digits get coated with your wet arousal. "so wet already," he murmured, feeling his cock strain against his clothing.

"makes me think you wanted this to happen, no?"

before you could deny it, he plunged his middle and ring finger into your warmth, thrusting and curling the tips of his fingers slightly. you let out a small whine, kicking your legs to protest his sudden ministrations, but another finger quickly shut you up.

a soft whimper left your lips as his fingers abruptly left your cunt, but you let out a loud squeak when he thrusted his cock inside. SCARAMOUCHE gave you a second before he started to thrust, his palms turning white as he gripped onto the plush of your ass.

"s-shit baby... this was the best gift you could've given me." SCARAMOUCHE reached impossibly deeper somehow, his tip fucking right into your cervix, causing you to cry out from inside of the box. "driving me crazy... what were you thinking, dressing up all pretty like a whore with your ass sticking out?"

"no way you expected me to not go and have my way with you..." he bit his lip, throwing his head back slightly as he panted. "dirty fuckin' slut... your plan was to pretend to get stuck, huh?"

the huge gift box shifted slightly with his movements, his hips rutting at an animalistic pace. SCARAMOUCHE felt his cock twitch, and your walls squeeze and flutter around his length. you tried to voice out to him that you were close but the sound was slightly muffled. besides, he already knew once your legs started to tremble.

he reached around to rub circles on your clit, murmuring incoherently to you.

"..c'mon, cum for me...'wanna see you squirt allllll over my cock, pretty girl." SCARAMOUCHE hummed, and you could imagine the shit eating grin that was plastered on his lips.

you whined, not being able to do anything besides chant his name out like a mantra. "s-scara... scara, scara, scaaara...!"

"ngh...! u-uwaaah...! 'm cumming, ...!!" the last few calls of his name from your lips came out slurred, as your climax was mindblowing, your legs spazzing, and eyes rolling to the back of your head as your mouth hung wide open. "that's it... g-good girl, h-haah.." SCARAMOUCHE continued to grind his hips further into yours, allowing you to ride out your high, as well as allow for him to reach his high.

SCARAMOUCHE moaned out profanities, his thick ropes of cum shooting deep inside you, making you feel warm and filled as you let out small whimpers from the shallow thrusts that he kept up.

feeling overstimulated, you came again, the walls of your cunt fluttering weakly around his cock. he let out a groan at this, his hips stopping once he pulled out and thrusted back in deeply one last time.

he pulled out, watching his seed ooze out of your cunt, which was clenching around nothing, due to the absence of his cock.

with a swift movement, SCARAMOUCHE lifted the lid up easily. he hoisted you out of the box by your waist, and then he plopped you down gently on the couch.

your makeup was slightly smudged and messed up, but it added to the charm, SCARAMOUCHE thought. his dick, which was soft, immediately stiffened up at the sight of you, all dolled up and pretty for him. the lingerie cutely cupping your plush boobs and accentuating all of your curves.

"fuckin' hell..." SCARAMOUCHE whispered underneath his breath as his eyes followed the way you slowly crawled towards him.

your expression feigned innocence, eyes sparkling as you blinked up at him through your lashes.

"how about I give you the rest of your present?" you smiled coyly, gently jerking his cock in your hand, guiding it towards your mouth.

"...how naughty of you." SCARAMOUCHE shakily sighed out as he felt your lips encase his sensitive and cute pink tip. his hand made its way to your head to guide you, his fingers gripping onto your hair lightly as he stared down at you with half lidded eyes.

"mhm. aren't you glad of how convenient it was that I was stuck there...?" you purred, winking at him.

"you slut... but whatever, it was a-ah..! the best gift I could've asked for."

[paegei]

RISKY

pairing - hoshi x afab!reader

summary - being vernon's hairstylist has its few obstacles... like your boyfriends sex drive.

a/n - lord... second attempt at writing smut ＞︿＜ also a v short fic...

NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !

SMUT warnings under the cut !

SMUT warnings: semi-public sex (dressing room...), attempted quiet sex, unprotected sex (guys pls be safe), breeding kink, creampie, marking, pet names (babe, soonie, pretty thing, baby, love), soonyoung calls you a slut and whore ╯︿╰, getting caught having sex...

today had been… hectic to say the least.

jun and vernon had ended up arriving late due to traffic, dokyeom, being dokyeom, ripped his pants directly at his ass, due to being unable to sit still. and the biggest problem in your eyes, a horny hoshi.

soonyoung and you had been sneaking around behind the company’s back for the better half of a year now. despite his inability to keep his mouth closed, your relationship had yet to be exposed, even to the other members.

during late night pillow talk, soonyoung would complain about the members asking him to ask you out, ironic considering your already laying in his bed, his cum leaking out of you. all this says to you is that you need to make your obvious attraction, less obvious. that, however, is proving to be very difficult with the situation you’re in.

seventeen's waiting room had been reduced to chaos. stylists running around, desperately trying to find dk another outfit, jun and vernon only having just arrived, their makeup artists rushing through their regular procedure. and now, vernon’s hair stylist & hoshi were nowhere to be found.

soonyoung’s hand was covering your mouth, a, fairly lame, attempt to quiet down the noises that were escaping your kiss swollen lips. it’s not your fault you can’t shut up, not when soonyoung is fucking into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever have you cunt wrapped around him.

you're not sure how long he's been plunging into your heat, obviously long enough to have your mind slipping from between your fingers, but with his dancer hips and stamina ? he can do that within seconds.

“f-fuck babe. so fucking tight. just for me yeah ?” his words were punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust, a puff of air following each syllable he said. his pace was animalistic at best, torturous at worst.

“yes fuck ! just for you ! only for you soonie ! fuck please !” your voice was muffled by his hand, damp with the drool escaping your mouth. your pleas were met with a rumbling growl, his hips snapping somehow harder. his hand was a futile attempt to keep your location unknown, as the slapping of skin on skin in the dressing room was deafening, as well as the wet squelches each time him cock breached your walls.

his head had fallen into the crevice of your neck, his lips continuing the path they had taken earlier. his biting on spots that were sore from his previous actions made you scream into his palm. you could feel his smirk on your neck. the feeling caused you to wrap your legs around his back, heels pressing in to try a get him deeper, get you fuller.

the hand that had been resting on your waist moves up, abusing your chest. “my little slut hmm ? just can’t get enough of my dick huh ? my- fuck- good little whore.” his words were breathy, and the sound made you clench around him, just making him release more of those sounds. it was a vicious cycle but one you never wanted to end.

“soon- soon- please, fuck i- fuck please !”

“my cock fucking you so good ? fucked you dumb, pretty thing ?”

“soonie please- right there !”

“fuck so perfect for me baby. so fucking warm.”

the squelching had gotten louder, his grunts were becoming more consistent. your hips were tilting down to meet his thrusts, so close to reaching your peak. he could tell from the fluttering of your walls, suffocating his cock.

“you close baby ?” his head lifts up from your neck, to look into your fucked out eyes. not being able to form words from the intense pleasure, you simply nodded your head. you’re eyes were boring into his, begging for release.

“y-yeah me too love. squeezing me so tight i can’t help it.”

his hips no longer held a rhythm, just sloppy pumps into your depths, chasing his climax. his low grunts had become breathier, whiner. he removed his hand to smash his lips onto yours, your tongues dancing as your whines mixed together. his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit.

“please- please let me cum. soonie-“

“shhh babe i got you. let go for me. cream on my cock love”

after his permission reached your ears, your mouth dropped open, soonyoung licking into it. your thighs were shaking around his hips, as your back arches, eyes rolling back.

he continues his powerful thrusts to help you ride out your orgasm, as well as chase his own.

“gonna cum, baby. fuck, squeezing me so tight. shit- where do you want me love ?”

his voice was desperate, his hips bucking wildly into yours, on the brink of his orgasm.

“inside ! soonie please !” there were tears in your eyes from the overstimulation, desperate to feel his cum inside you.

“gonna fill you up so good baby, pump you full of my cum- shit !”

his words were cut off, his lips crashing back into yours to muffle his whimpers. soonyoung had never had an orgasm this powerful. his cum was filling you up, painting your insides as his thighs trembled. the two of you were gripping each other so tight- tight enough for bruises to form on your hips, scratches down his back.

after he calms down, the two of you still. he was still buried deep within you, as you both panted into each others mouths.

“fuck… sorry. didn’t realise i’d cum that much” he shoots you his signature grin, one of humour & innocence, as if his cock wasn’t going soft inside your walls.

“‘ts okay, soonie.” you kiss him, softly this time. he begins to pull out, & you both hiss at the sensation. glancing down at his cum leaking out of you, his stuffs his fingers back in.

“gonna keep it all in for me ?”

“i don't know babe... you came a lot” you grinned up at him, both feeling giddy for getting away with this. or so you thought. as you leaned forward to share another kiss, a voice interrupts you.

“you guys done in there ?” it was seungcheols voice, his words drowned in disapproval.

“oh shit- yeah man ! be out… in a sec” his voice died down as his eyes met yours, pure fear in them.

“hurry up. because you just had to get your dick wet we only have 5 minutes before we’re on. get out here now.”

you hear his footsteps fade away, and you and hoshi lean into each other to hide your giggles.

“mkay… i gotta go love. you gonna be okay ?” his gaze was worried. aftercare was a big thing in your relationship, and you could tell he felt guilty about having to rush through it.

“i’ll be fine soonie, okay ? you go kill this stage” he helps you get dressed, shooting you one last look before booking it out of the room. you smile fondly at the sight, before the extent of what just happened dawns on you. the two of you were going to be in big trouble.

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[holylulusworld]

Gap Filler (2)

Summary: Lack of communication leads to fallout.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, Walter being a douche, break-up, mentions of break-ups, amends, angry reader, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: A short drabble to the miniseries.

Gap Filler (1)

Walter feels like he’s losing his mind. He’s pacing the room, driving the lab assistant crazy. She huffs and shakes her head. Not only does Walter ask for an unauthorized analysis, but he also gets on her nerves.

“Sir, the results won’t come faster if you keep on walking holes into the ground. It will take as long as it takes.”

“I’ll be back in half an hour and need the results by then,” he huffs and turns to leave. “I know you’re not happy that I called in a favor. This is an important, life-changing event. So please, hurry up. I need to be sure if I bring something for the baby too.”

She furrows her brows but says nothing. Three years ago, Walter did her a favor without asking questions. She will do the same for him to pay him back and to be even with the grumpy detective.

“Half an hour,” she nods. “Got it.”

“…and?” Walter expectantly looks at the lab assistant. He never felt so much pressure on him before. Not even while on the hunt for a killer. “Please tell me you have the result for me.”

“Here.” She hands Walter the results. “Now we are even. Never ask me to do something like this ever again. I could lose my job.”

“If you forget about the test and the results, we are even.” He looks at the results. His heart jumped for a second before he remembered what he said to you only a few days ago.

“Detective.” She nods and turns back toward her equipment. “You shouldn’t waste more time. She’s on the way to start a new life far away from you.”

Walter huffs. The last thing he needs is someone telling him that he fucked up big time. He already knows there’s no way you’ll forgive him.

“Can I help you, sir?” The clerk at the shop asks. She’s looking at Walter standing in front of a shelf. He looks left and right, unsure what to buy. “Sir?”

“Hmm…” Walter dips his head to look at her. He has his arms crossed over his chest as he tries to decide on a gift hamper. “I need a gift for…” He sniffs and looks back at the shelf. “…my pregnant girlfriend. It should say, I’m sorry and happy to become a dad at the same time.”

She frowns. “You want to apologize with a baby gift hamper? Sir, I don’t know your girlfriend well, but that’s not the best gift for an angry pregnant woman.”

“How do you wanna know?” He cocks his head to watch her look at the shelf herself. “I want her to know that I’m happy about the baby and that I’m sorry for saying all those stupid things.”

She huffs now. “You are always sorry, aren’t you? Men are all the same. Do you believe a half-hearted apology and a random gift will make things up to her? How dare you come back to her to do it all over again!”

“Whoa, I didn’t ask for your opinion or help. If you’d excuse me now,” Walter angrily says. He glares at the clerk, pissed at her cocky attitude. “Whatever crawled up your ass is not my fault or problem. Nice customer service.”

He’s too angry to focus on buying anything at the shop. Walter storms out of the shop, squaring his jaw. The young woman at the shop wasn’t wrong. Walter hurt you beyond repair, and this can’t be fixed with a fucking gift hamper.

“I’ll take two, no, three of these.” Walter points at the flower baskets. “No, this is stupid. Give me your prettiest bouquet of peonies. She loves them.”

He looks around the flower shop, frowning deeply. There’s a beautiful orchid and a large cactus next to it. Walter shakes his head and laughs. “An impossible match,” he murmurs before pointing at the plants. “I changed my mind. I’ll take these two.”

Packing up your things to move out of your home feels wrong. You learned to love your apartment and turned it into a cozy home for you.

Not so long ago, you had hoped Walter would move in with you one day.

All your hope got shattered the day he told you Rachel is back and that he wants to try again. Your heart broke, and you mourned the life you could’ve had if only Walter felt the same.

Now you’re going to raise the life growing inside of you alone, far away from the friends you made and your beloved home.

“Well, this can’t be helped,” you murmur while rubbing your belly. There’s no swelling yet, but soon enough people will know you’re expecting. “We are going to do this all on our own, bean. Don’t worry. Your mommy is going to give you all the love you’ll need.”

For a few moments, you allow yourself to be sad about the breakup. You cry, you scream, and then you get up to pack up a few more things.

Walter is a nervous wreck. He paces in front of your apartment, the cactus, orchid, and a baby gift hamper in his arms.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Walter curses himself for being a fool. If only he knew that you never wanted to leave him for a better position.

How could he be so blind? How could he not see that your feelings for him were true?

His instinct should’ve told him you are not going to leave him. Instead, he ignored his instinct and listened to the nagging voice in the back of his mind.

“FUCK!” One last time, he takes a deep breath before knocking at your door, using his right elbow.

“Hello, what can I—” You stiffen when your eyes meet Walter’s blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same!” He huffs. “I told you so often to not open the door before checking who’s on the other side.”

You huff. “This is how you want to start this conversation? Really, Walter?” He smirks when you put your hands on your hips to glare at him. “What brings you here? Do you want to make sure I’m leaving? Maybe Rachel needs a new apartment, and you want mine.”

“Baby,” he hesitantly says. “Rachel is not, and never will be, a part of my life. She wanted to return for a few months, but we didn’t stay in touch. I lied, believing you want to leave me too. I was hurt and believed hurting you would make me feel better.”

You narrow your eyes. “For a smart detective, you are dumb as a brick.” Slamming the door in his face, you huff. “FUCK YOU!”

“Baby? Uh—will you at least let me explain things? Please?” He knocks at your door again, using his foot this time. “Y/N, please open the door. The cactus is poking my chest, and the orchid looks like it's scared of me.”

You’re tempted to open the door, almost giving in as he keeps talking. “No.”

“Please, at least take the plants. You see, the pretty one is you, soft and sweet. The large, ugly beast is me, rough and grumpy. Even though they are so different, he loves the pretty orchid.” He sighs deeply. “And he hopes that the pretty flower loves him too…”

Walter listens closely. He sucks in a breath when you curse behind the door.

“Baby, I know about the baby,” Walter continues. “I know what I did and said was unforgivable, but please talk to me…”

[cyber333angel]

thinking abt camboy!jj hmm.. from other fics I’ve read they describe him as the type to not show his face and only video tape himself from the neck down and I think that’s so real.. like him in the daytime playing like call of duty or some shit and THEN at night he sits in the same chair where he jerks his dick, in front of a camera to make some extra bucks like. I had wrote this as an ask before but if you were maybe a babysitter for jjs little siblings and after putting them to sleep, you go to tell jj that your heading out but when you open the door to his room he’s in the middle of a stream, you just pause and stare at his dick in his hand and you feel your cheeks starting to heat up so you break out of the stare and try to walk out the room but before you could leave jj stops you and takes your hand . he manhandles you to his wall and is js so rough with you “say a fuckin word about this and I’ll make sure you get fired from this little babysitting gig okay princess?” and instead of you being scared of him in this moment your just turned on by being put in your place 🤫 just having your eyes go half lidded and jj seeing you get so small and submissive from the way he talked to you, he decides to tease you, gripping your jaw hard and forcing you to look directly at his face “you gettin turned on from this shit? have some fuckin degrading kink or something, what the fuck is wrong with you sweetcheeks?” he takes his knee and pushes it between your thighs where your wearing no shorts under your skirt , you gasp at the sudden contact and stutter out “n-no! m’sorry I really didn’t mean to interrupt you jayj!” unfazed he comes up with an idea “if y’re really sorry you’ll come help me out won’t you?” not wanting to lose your job or be hated by jj you agree and nod “of course .” not knowing he meant stripping you of all your clothes and putting you into doggy style in front of the camera screen, letting your face be shown to the little posse of fans on his stream while his face is still kept out the camera..muscular abs and arms being the only thing in frame of him while you on the other hand show your whole body and face, he has you stuttering on his cock “m-mph fuck jj your making me feel so g-good! oh god!” him loving the praise, speeds up the pace making you unable to even get out a response . only plap-plap-plap and wet squelches from your now sloppy cunt . his pelvis connecting to the fat of your ass every 2 seconds makes you know for a fact that your back is gonna be sore tomorrow morning . “gonna let me cum in this pretty pussy hm princess?” not thinking with your head but the heartbeat in your lower body you nod and beg him to cum inside “y-yes jayj! don’t pull out, wan your cum hngh please!” jj also only thinking with his dick, releases a load of warm semen into your cunt, putting in some last thrust until he fills you up. “fhuuck..” he says almost forgetting about the stream he remembers he’s getting paid to put on a show . “show them how I just filled this pussy, cmon now dollface” he manhandles you until your sitting on his gaming chair with your pussy facing the camera, he takes one hand and puts two fingers near your hole . he stretches it apart to watch the cum leak out, the other hand grasps your face still forcing you to look at the camera , leaving you twitching and crying but with a satisfied smile, you hear various sounds and beeps coming from the computer seeing how everyone enjoyed your little show.

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 2

SUMMARY: In the midst of the chaos on set, quiet moments between you and Glen begin to weave a subtle tapestry of connection. As coffee cups become shared tokens of affection and playful banter fills the air, the chemistry between you deepens, revealing layers of warmth and humor. From lighthearted discussions about makeup to Glen’s unexpected revelations about his sisters’ influence, every encounter blurs the lines of professionalism and friendship, leaving you both questioning what lies beneath the surface.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianabomgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 I @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff  I  @lunatygerqueen  I  @hookslove1592  I  @glenpowellluver  I  @missmarveledsblog

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The sun wasn’t even up yet, but you were already on set, clinging to your cup of coffee like it was a lifeline. The early morning chill bit at your skin, and you stifled a yawn as you prepped your station. It was only the second or third day of filming, and the early call times were starting to catch up with you.

Just as you took a sip, Glen walked in for hair and makeup, practically bouncing through the door. He was already in costume, a grin stretched across his face as he greeted the crew. “Morning!” he called out cheerfully, like it wasn’t 5 a.m.

You raised an eyebrow, barely able to muster the energy to lift your cup. “How are you so awake right now?” you asked, your voice groggy with exhaustion.

He chuckled as he sank into the chair in front of your mirror. “Well, I’m on coffee number three,” he said, holding up an empty mug like it was a trophy.

You let out a tired laugh, holding up your half-empty cup. “I’m still clinging to my first. You must have some magic metabolism, because I don’t think my body could handle three.”

He grinned at you in the mirror, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “You’ve gotta pace yourself. It’s all about timing. Coffee every forty-five minutes.”

“Oh, is that the secret?” you teased, rubbing your eyes. “I’ll have to take notes. The rest of us mortals are just barely hanging on.”

“Aw, c’mon, you’ve got this,” he said with an easy smile. “Just have another cup. Or two. And maybe a power nap between takes.”

“I wish!” you scoffed, tying your hair back and grabbing a comb to start on his hair. “What’s the longest you’ve ever been on set without a break?”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head, thinking for a second. “Probably twenty hours straight for a shoot that kept getting delayed. Every time we were about to wrap, something went wrong. It was brutal. But, hey, I survived.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Twenty hours? That’s insane. How did you not collapse?”

Glen shrugged, looking a little proud of himself. “A lot of coffee, again. But mostly adrenaline. When you’re on set, there’s this energy that keeps you going. It’s weird, but it works.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that’s not how it works for me. I think I’d just fall asleep standing.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and it made you smile despite your exhaustion. “You? Nah, I’ve seen you on set. You’ve got this calm, focused vibe. I bet you’d be fine.”

“Focused, maybe,” you admitted, smoothing out the front of his hair. “Calm? Not so sure.”

“Well, you fake it well,” he teased, making you smile again. “Seriously, though, you seem like you’ve got a good handle on things.”

You paused for a second, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Thanks. It’s a little overwhelming, to be honest. But, I mean, who wouldn’t be excited to work on something like this? Top Gun? That’s bucket list stuff.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up at the mention of the film. “It really is, isn’t it? I still have moments where I look around and think, ‘Wow, this is actually happening.’”

“Do you get nervous?” you asked, genuinely curious. “Like, before big scenes?”

“All the time,” he admitted with a chuckle. “It’s part of the job. But you’ve just gotta roll with it. Once you’re in the moment, it’s like everything else fades away. The adrenaline kicks in and you just... do it.”

You finished with his hair and set down the comb, wiping your hands on a towel. “I guess I’ll need some of that adrenaline to get through this day.”

“You will,” he said confidently, standing up and stretching his arms. “But if not, there’s always coffee number two waiting for you.”

You laughed again, the weight of the early morning starting to lift a little. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Glen flashed you a quick smile, he grabbed his cup and started to walk out, pausing for a moment at the door. “Hey,” he called back, “if you need a coffee buddy, I’m always down for round four.”

You grinned, shaking your head as you watched him go. “I’ll hold you to that.”

* * * *

It was mid-morning by the time Glen made his way back to your trailer for a touch-up. The wind had done a number on his hair during the earlier shoot, and you had just set your tools down when the door swung open. Glen stepped in, holding not one, but two cups of coffee.

You looked up from your chair, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were on coffee number three this morning? You’re really pushing it now.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “This one’s not for me.” He stepped closer, extending one of the cups toward you. “I noticed your coffee order earlier and figured you could use a refill.”

Surprised, you blinked, glancing between him and the cup. “You got this for me?”

Glen grinned, nodding. “Yep. Figured you could use a little pick-me-up since we both know this day isn’t getting any shorter.”

You took the cup, a smile spreading across your face as you read the label. He’d gotten your order exactly right. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that you memorized my coffee order this quickly.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t have much choice. You had it written on the side of your cup earlier. Made my life easier.”

You shook your head, amused by his attention to detail. “Still, I appreciate it. What do I owe you?”

Glen waved it off, sliding into your makeup chair with ease. “Nah, it’s on me. Consider it a thank you for always making me look presentable on camera.”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin as you took a sip. “I suppose that’s a fair trade,” you teased, setting your cup down before getting to work on fixing his hair. “Though, I have to admit, I was pretty close to giving up after seeing the state of this mess. The wind really did a number on you today.”

He groaned dramatically, glancing at his reflection. “I know, right? One gust and everything goes haywire.”

“Lucky for you, that’s what I’m here for,” you replied with a grin, starting to smooth out the strands. As you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the small shift in the air between you two. The conversation was flowing easier now, the silences comfortable rather than awkward.

Glen stayed relaxed in the chair, watching you work through the mirror. “You’re too good at this,” he said, his tone warm but casual. “Honestly, you make it seem effortless.”

You chuckled, your hands continuing to move through his hair. “Well, after enough practice, it kind of becomes second nature. Though, I’d say you’re not the worst hair disaster I’ve had to deal with.”

“Oh? And who holds that honor?”

You smirked. “I’m not naming names, but let’s just say it involved a lot of sweat and an unfortunate run-in with a stunt double.”

He laughed again, a deep, easy sound that made the atmosphere feel even lighter. “That sounds like a story I need to hear sometime.”

“Maybe after coffee number four,” you teased, stepping back to admire your work. His hair was back in place, not a strand out of order.

He turned to face you with a grateful smile. “Thanks. For the hair, and for... everything.”

You smiled softly, leaning against the counter. “You’re welcome. And thanks for the coffee. You might’ve just saved my afternoon.”

Glen stood, grabbing his own cup and raising it in a mock toast. “Consider it a small price to pay for making me look good.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he gave you a quick wink before heading back out. The gesture was small, but it left a warmth that lingered long after he was gone.

* * * *

A week or two passed and you had started to feel more comfortable with the routine on set. It was mid-morning, and Glen was back in your chair for a makeup touch-up after the first few hours of shooting. The trailer was quiet except for the hum of the lights, and the steady rhythm of brushes against his skin had lulled both of you into a comfortable silence. You were focused, making sure the base was even, when Glen suddenly broke the quiet.

"Is that the NARS bronzer you’re using?" he asked casually, his tone light.

You froze mid-application, staring down at the palette in your hand with raised eyebrows. "Wait... how do you know that?"

Glen chuckled, his grin spreading wide across his face. "I’ve got two sisters and a niece. Trust me, I’ve been a test dummy for enough makeup experiments to know the basics."

You blinked, half-impressed and half-amused. "Okay, I did not see that coming. So, what—are you secretly a makeup guru?"

He laughed again, the sound warm and relaxed. "Hardly. I just know a few things here and there. Like... contouring, highlighting, and... uh, what’s that thing where you use tape to get a sharp wing?"

"You're talking about the tape trick for eyeliner?" you asked, genuinely surprised by his knowledge.

"Yeah! That’s the one. My niece was all about it for her school dance last year." He shifted slightly in the chair, his expression softening as he talked about his family. "Lauren and Leslie, my sisters, used to rope me into their makeup sessions when we were younger. They were relentless, but I didn’t mind too much."

You smiled as you reached for a different brush. "Well, that explains why you seem so comfortable in this chair. You’re a pro."

Glen shrugged, still grinning. "Hey, I’ve survived worse. And you’re way better than my sisters were back in the day."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and as you worked, the usual professional boundary between the two of you seemed to soften a little more. He felt at ease with you, and you realized that Glen wasn’t just another actor in your chair—he was kind, thoughtful, and had an unexpected way of making the most routine moments feel personal.

"So, should I expect you to start recommending products to the other guys?" you teased, giving him a playful look as you added the finishing touches.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Maybe I should! I mean, have you seen the state of some of their skin? A little moisturizer wouldn’t hurt."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Right? I should help them get a good skincare routine down. 'Hey, guys, just a tip—sunscreen is your friend!'"

Glen leaned back in the chair, nodding seriously. "Exactly! 'You want to be the next big action star? You can't be looking like a potato on screen.'"

"Or like they just came from a three-day camping trip," you added, chuckling.

He chuckled along with you, leaning slightly closer as the laughter faded. "Maybe I should start a YouTube channel—'Glen Powell's Grooming Tips.' I could go viral."

"Just don’t forget to credit me as your makeup artist," you replied, a grin on your face. "I expect a solid shout-out for all the hard work."

"Of course! You’ll be my secret weapon," he said, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. There was a warmth in his gaze, a hint of something unspoken lingering between you. "But really, I’m just glad to have someone like you to make me look good. You’re the best."

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks as you brushed off the compliment with a smile. It was just another easy conversation, another private moment, but something about it left an impression. There was a comfort between you and Glen, a kind of unspoken understanding that made these small moments feel... different.

* * * *

The set was buzzing with activity as the crew prepared for the next scene. You were stationed at a portable makeup station, surrounded by an array of brushes, palettes, and hair products. The air was filled with the chatter of cast and crew, punctuated by the sounds of cameras rolling and directors calling for action.

As you touched up the makeup of one of the actresses, you caught sight of Glen out of the corner of your eye. He was leaning against a nearby wall, watching the scene unfold with a casual air, but you could see the moment his gaze shifted to you.

A few moments later, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way over, his usual smile lighting up his face. “Hey, you,” he said, his voice warm amidst the commotion.

“Hey! What are you doing here? I thought you were filming?” you replied, pausing your work to give him your full attention.

“Just wrapped a scene, and I figured I’d come see what you’re up to,” he said, casually leaning against the makeup station. “Plus, I wanted to make sure you’re not working too hard. You know, it’s a tough job keeping all of us looking good.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re all pretty easy to work with. It’s the directors who give me a run for my money. They keep changing their minds about how they want the characters to look.”

Glen feigned horror, placing a hand over his heart. “What? How dare they disrupt your creative process? Next, they’ll be telling me I can’t wear this shirt!” He gestured to his fitted T-shirt, a playful glint in his eye.

“Don’t worry; I think the shirt is safe for now,” you teased back, feeling more at ease with each playful exchange. “But I’m glad you stopped by. It’s nice to have a break from all the chaos.”

He nodded, his expression growing more sincere. “I totally get that. It’s nice to just hang out for a bit, you know? Plus, I enjoy hearing you talk about makeup and all the behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his interest. “Most guys wouldn’t care about that.”

“Hey, I’m not most guys,” he replied, his tone mock-serious. “I have sisters. I’ve learned to appreciate the art of makeup and hair. Besides, it’s fascinating to see how you work your magic.”

You grinned, flattered by his words. “Well, if you’re ever interested in a lesson, I could always use a willing model.”

“Model, huh?” He feigned deep thought, tapping his chin dramatically. “Do I get to pick my look? Maybe I want a smoky eye... or glitter? I could rock a bold lip, you know.”

“Glitter?” you echoed, your laughter ringing out. “Now that’s a bold choice, Glen. I’m not sure the world is ready for that level of glam.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, crossing his arms with a mock-seriousness. “But only if you promise to take pictures. I want proof when I’m famous!”

“Sure! I’ll make sure to use the most flattering angles,” you replied, your smile widening.

“Hey, you’re the expert. I trust your judgment,” he said, leaning in closer, his tone dropping slightly. “But really, I appreciate you. You make all of this so much easier.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks, Glen. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Anytime,” he said, giving you a playful nudge. “Alright, I should probably let you get back to work before the directors send a search party for me. But I’ll be around if you need a break.”

“Deal,” you said, watching him walk away with a lightness in your chest, knowing that these moments were becoming more frequent and meaningful.

[pullhisteeth]

hello, lovely! so so happy to see you writing again, you're really one of my fave writers here 🥹 if you want, would you mind writing a fluffy best friends to lovers one with eddie where he accidentally overhears nancy and robin talking about reader's feelings for him, and how the reader feels like she should just give up on her feelings towards eddie because it seems like a hopeless case lmao i'm sorry if it's too specific! ily ❤️

hi! I love you!!! I'm so sorry this took so long, I got stuck in the middle of it with no way out, so I scrapped it and started again. I hope you love it. thank you for the kindest message, you're a star xxx

contains some dubious eavesdropping and lots of fluff. somethin' suggestive towards the end but nothing huge. :-)

[3k (ish)]

-

“Hey, handsome.”

Eddie turns to the door. There you are, between the edge of it and the doorframe, socked feet on the step. You’ve got your hands behind your back and you want something.

He smiles at you softly and reaches his hand out without a word. He watches you return the smile and step down onto the porch and towards him. You lift your hand, take the lit cigarette from between his two fingers and lean on the post opposite him.

His eyes linger as you pull it between your lips and inhale, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks hollowing.

“You look nice today,” he tells you.

Your eyes open slowly as you turn your head to look at him. You bring the cigarette down and hold it out to him, twisting back towards the road to blow the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.

As he takes it from you, you say, “Thanks.”

“New top?”

You nod. “Mm-hmm.”

“‘S’pretty. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” you say through another smile. This one’s sly, coy, a wall because he’s complimented you twice and that’s at least one time too many for you. He likes the way he can see how your cheeks warm and how you shift your weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting to stop yourself swooning.

You watch cars go by and listen to the distant sound of Robin’s laugh inside the house, passing the cigarette between the two of you until it’s nothing more than a butt. Eddie throws it onto the gravel at the foot of the porch steps, being gracious enough to save the Wheelers’ nicely varnished wood from being ruined by ash and a filter, and does his best to stomp it out without shoes on.

“Your sock’s gonna get wet,” you tell him.

“‘S’okay,” he says, hopping back up onto the porch and swaying about until he reaches the front door. “C’mon. There’s a mean game of Irish snap waiting for us in there.”

You hum again, only this time it’s a sadder sound. He feels the skip of his heart and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“‘M’gonna stay out here a minute. Need some air.”

“Oh,” he breathes. He takes half a step back towards you. “Okay. You want company?”

You shake your head and it rips something within him. It aches. “I’ll only be a second.”

The ache yawns open somewhere in his chest but he surrenders, returning to the door and leaving it ajar for you as he goes back inside. His mind stays with you as he moves through the house, eyes on his feet and the damp spot on the side of his left sock.

He passes the stairs and as he rounds the corner, he stops dead at the sound of your name.

His ears perk up like an animal and he moves, without thinking, so his back is against the wall.

“-And I get why she feels like that, you know?”

Robin’s pacing. He hears the soft thump of her fluffy slippers each time she takes another step on the carpet.

“She just…” Nancy sighs. “Surely she should try to tell him?”

“Nance, c’mon. You’re, like, the smartest person I know.”

“I just…”

“Nance.”

“He’s just… They’re so close, there’s probably so much we don’t see.”

“She tells us everything.”

Eddie catches his breathing getting heavier and stops, holding it at the hilt with lungs full of air. His hands are splayed across the wall behind him and he’s leaning with all his might, willing the floorboards beneath his feet to stay quiet just for a few moments more. His ears strain because to his right, Steve, Argyle and Jonathan are having some kind of cruelly-timed debate about pizza crusts in the kitchen.

“We can’t know that,” Nancy says. Eddie thinks she sounds sad; he can hear her mouth turning down in the shape of her words, and her fingers are drumming across the glass-topped coffee table, her anxious tell.

“We’ve known her long enough. And we’ve known him long enough. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“She just seemed so sad. I wish she’d try.”

“It’s not worth it,” Robin tells her, words short and frank. Her repetitive footsteps stop. “Clearly.”

Nancy hums.

“He’s hopeless,” Robin continues. “She’s been pining after him for what? A year?”

“More than that,” Nancy says quietly.

“Exactly! She deserves to be happy, we want her to be happy. So she has to-”

“Move on,” Nancy offers.

“Right.”

“But… We see him all the time. He’s our friend.”

“I guess we just… Help her through it,” Robin says. “Get Steve to set her up or something. Surely we know someone who’s far removed enough from Eddie?”

The colour has drained from Eddie’s face, seeping down his body and through his damp socks and into the floor. The hands keeping him steady on the wall are rendered useless, because he can feel them clamming up and slipping down the tasteless wallpaper the Wheelers have covered their hallway in. He slowly pushes himself up to stand and his head spins, the gaudy florals on the walls blurring to crisp bursts of colour.

What the fuck?

What the fuck did he just listen to?

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have listened; it was a private conversation, a private conversation about you. And yet he can’t bring himself to move, ears trained solely on the now-quieter mumblings between Nancy and Robin about how to cheer you up, and…

Andy.

Eddie’s stomach turns at the four letters as he hears Robin say them, louder than she’d been before, bright like a lightbulb.

Andy.

He lives down the street from Nancy, in a big house with a wrap-around porch and a mailbox Eddie probably knocked over at some point in his early teens. He has a good car - better than Steve’s, even - and wears ugly, pasty polo-neck sweaters and pristine tennis shoes. He probably plays tennis, Eddie thinks.

He’s everything Eddie knows your parents would love. Hell, he’s heard you complain more times than you should ever have had to about the sly comments your mother makes, the garden parties and barbecues you’re dragged to on hot Saturdays with the sole purpose of setting the two of you up.

“She hates him,” Eddie hears Nancy tell Robin flatly, their voices hushed again but just loud enough for him to do exactly what he knows he should not be doing.

“But he’s interested,” Robin whines.

“Only ‘cause her parents try so hard. He’s awful, Rob.”

“At least he’d try! I bet he’d take her to Enzo’s if we asked him to.”

“Rob,” Nancy hisses. “You can’t be serious.”

Eddie thought his stomach had dropped out of him a while ago, at the first mention of your name, but he’d been wrong, because he gets that awful sinking feeling once more when he hears the front door close.

In the seconds that follow, everything happens both incredibly quickly and painfully slowly, the way a car crash does, or watching someone fall. You round the corner, footsteps softening as you tread over the rug. Nancy and Robin’s hushed voices stop. Steve throws something at the bin in the kitchen. He misses. Argyle and Jonathan shout. You look up from watching your feet, and your eyes find him, wide and unsure. Eddie dies.

Well, whatever he’s feeling is what he imagines dying is like. There’s a cacophony of sensations and emotions bursting from within his body: firstly, there’s nerves, taking the form of butterflies the way they always do when he looks at you. They’re followed by a wave, though, of shame and, later, dread. He shouldn’t be here. He thinks you have worked out that he shouldn’t be here. He can hear Robin’s slippers again, only they’re getting closer this time, and then she’s at the door, right by his left ear. He can’t tear his eyes off you.

She calls your name, once in a tone so soft Eddie’s surprised it came from her mouth, and then again, only more confused.

He sees her in his peripheral vision as she leans her head around the doorframe and finds him with his back against the wall. She gasps, a quiet, wobbly noise, and then Nancy’s there, too.

You’re still standing a few paces from him, damp socks on the rug, looking at him with an expression that he cannot read.

“Eddie?” you call and he wants to die, he seriously wants to die. The world should swallow him whole for this, spit him out in the pits of Tartarus, let Cerberus have his way with him.

“Oh, god,” he hears Nancy say slowly from her spot beside Robin.

“Eddie,” you say again. “What’s wrong?”

Your face has crumpled into something between concern and remorse. Something unspoken hangs in the stuffy air of the hallway, broken only by the sounds of trash can basketball happening in the next room.

“Uh,” Robin drones, “We’ll, uh… We’re just gonna-” She slides out of the room, past Eddie, pulling Nancy with her by the wrist. “We’ll be in here,” she says, more to you than to him, an unspoken declaration that says come find us if you need us, before disappearing into the kitchen and closing the door.

He’s still looking at you, and you’re still looking at him. You’re about as pale as he feels as he stands upright again.

“What happened?” you ask him.

“I, uh… Fuck,” he stumbles, squeezing his eyes shut and holding the top of his nose. He catches your wince at the curse and the aggravated edge it comes out with. “Uh… Nance and Rob, they were… They mentioned you, I might have… Overheard a couple things.”

He looks away from you as he admits this, that wave of shame more akin to a tsunami now. He’s an asshole. He shouldn’t have listened.

But he did.

“I don’t…” You’re fiddling, fingers winding around fingers, standing before him looking more lost than ever. He chances a glance at you and your face is twisted in confusion. And then it relaxes, mouth agape, as realisation dawns.

“Oh.”

Warmth crawls up your neck. It spreads like wildfire behind your ears, across your scalp, over your cheeks. Everything is hot, the room’s too small, the air’s too close; more than anything, Eddie is too close.

He watches you fidget. You step forward, and your face drops again, wincing like you’re standing too close to a flame, so you step back and turn, moving away from him quicker than he can process. His call of your name falls on deaf ears and ends just as the front door shuts again.

He hears the shuffling of many feet behind the kitchen door but ignores it, pushing himself off the wall and through the hallway. The space is like water, the pressure pushing him down, keeping him from the fresh air - and you.

When he wrenches the front door open he’s hit first with the smell of rain, that hollow, metallic scent. And then it mixes with something like sorrow, and he feels it burrow into his bones, a deep-set melancholy he wants so desperately to fix.

You’re sitting on the porch steps, your back to him, hunched over with your head in your hands. The way your shoulders move gives you away; Eddie’s at your side quicker than he can think to breathe, touching you before really checking that you want that from him right now. It doesn’t seem to matter; you lean into him like always. You hiccup and sniffle, face pressed into his t-shirt without thought, and his arm sits around your shoulder and his fingers press into your shoulder.

“I’m here,” he says, unsteady. “You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you say into his chest. You lean back and press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I didn’t… You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”

Eddie’s brain is working too quickly for him to keep up with, but he manages to tell you it’s okay. “I’m not mad,” he says, thumb pressing into your jaw, the pads of his fingers on your neck, checking you over.

“I’m mad,” you choke. There’s the hint of a laugh there and he can’t help but return it.

“That’s allowed,” he says. He’s surprising himself with how quickly he’s turned into something solid and reassuring. “Want a do-over?”

You look at him and he aches again, his nose burning. You’re flushed and your eyes are pinker than usual, and as his eyes dance over your lips he sees they’re wet from crying and ripe for kisses.

They twist into a smile and he decides that, for now, that’s better.

“Eddie,” you breathe, coy. You nudge him softly in the stomach with your elbow. “Fuck off.”

“What?” he laughs. “I can leave you out here, if you want. Maybe Andy will come save you from m-”

Your elbow hits his lowest rib this time, with far more force than before, and the gasp he pulls from you is almost comical.

“Eddie,” you hiss, “they did not-”

“Oh, Rob would set you up in a heartbeat.”

You groan and let your forehead fall to his shoulder. And it’s here, where he’s enveloped in the smell of rain and the feeling of you, that he feels something open in his chest, and he speaks before he can stop himself.

“He’s better than me, anyway,” he says quietly, fingers carding through the ends of your hair. “You’re too good for me. Some other boy would be better.”

“Other boys are boring,” you tell him, leaning back. Your voice is small and you can’t meet his eye but it’s the truth; he’s blind to it, apparently, but Eddie Munson is the only boy who has ever interested you. He is the only boy who listens, the only boy who sees you, the only boy you have any desire to know inside and out. You’re not sure you ever will know him completely, but if you spend the rest of your life trying, you’ll be happy doing it.

His fingers dance through the space between the two of you until they find yours, toying with the loose threads of denim at the frayed hem of your jeans. His bigger hand takes yours and you still can’t look him in the damn eye. You’d find a smile if you did, though.

He squeezes your hand and touches your chin lightly with the other, pressing the side of his index finger to the underneath of it to bring your face level with his own.

“Look at me,” he whispers. You obey, because it’s Eddie, and he’s so close and you can smell his uncle’s washing powder and the stubborn stain of pot and you love him.

“We could go for pizza,” he says, just as soft. “How’s Enzo’s?”

“You don’t have t’go fancy on me,” you whisper back. “I like Benny’s more.”

A grin splits his face and you match it, giggling.

“My girl likes burgers, huh?”

“Y’know I do,” you say, squeezing back. “Your girl?”

“Gotta take you on a date first,” he says. “Do it properly.”

“You’re startin’ to sound like a gentleman.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

Your breaths are one and the same by now, your mouths so close together that your vacant space has become his. Your eyes move between his eyes and his lips and you catch his doing the same, and there’s an ache somewhere between your legs that makes you pull your thighs together.

He dips his head just enough, thumb pushing into your chin to pull you closer. You let your eyes shut and feel his lips over yours, slow and distant, before you lean into him. He kisses you sweet, his hand smoothing over your jaw to hold your face like it’s made of gold, and he moves against you with certainty.

He’s determined and as his tongue meets yours you bend into it, relenting. It’s magic, just as you’d imagined all these years.

He releases your hand and grabs your waist in his firm grip. It starts to get slovenly, your hips against his thigh, his tongue everywhere, and your head’s starting to spin.

“You’re gettin’ ahead of yourself,” you say, panting, smiling, pulling back from him to look him in the eye again. He’s all browns, dark lashes and darker irises, never wavering from your sight. “Thought you had to take me on a date first.”

“You’re too pretty,” he says, kissing you gently at the corner of your mouth. His breath blooms across your skin as he speaks. “Got years of not kissin’ you to make up for.”

His fingers dig gently into your sides and you suck in a breath that’s half a giggle.

“Gotta get back at Rob and Nance,” you say as his mouth moves over your jaw and leaves a mark somewhere beneath your earlobe.

He hums and leans back, saying his goodbyes to your skin with one last peck to your cheek, just below your eye.

“I think we owe them,” he says. “I do, anyway. Was never gonna get my ass in gear. Coulda lost you to Andy.”

“Never,” you say without a beat.

“Never,” he says back.

-

[viridescent-din]

can you do joel x reader with the reader having to use their safewird? i'd love to see how joel reacts

18+, pretty intense rough sex that warrants the use of safe word under the cut. this has the potential to be very triggering.

thanks for being this blog's first request <3

Joel is so goddamn pent up.

There's too much happening all at once - too much death, too much responsibility. Joel is barely holding himself together, feeling the weight of being the person that you and Ellie follow. Even worse, being the man you depend on.

He needs an outlet. You're in his bed, just like you always are, and Ellie is asleep downstairs and safe. Jackson can give Joel some type of reprieve, even if the hesitation in Tommy's embrace was the last straw for Joel.

Joel, for the first time since you've met him, snaps.

Sex with Joel isn't always - or even often - soft. It's gritty and real, usually rushed. Neither of you have daily access to a shower, and half the time you fuck it's in a frenzy because one of you (almost always you) has nearly been killed. You're used to Joel being borderline impersonal. He's good about it though, always checking to make sure you're okay, always cleaning you up afterwards.

This time, Joel doesn't even prep you.

He watches you, ass in air and on the bed on all fours. You feel his hand ghosting over the skin of your cheeks before he unzips his pants, takes himself out, and enters you dry with a single thrust.

You cry out immediately, the burn instant. The sheets muffle the sound. Even with the ache, there's a glimmer of pleasure mixed in, that nice feeling that comes with being full. Joel warms you from the inside out.

You turn your head, glancing over your shoulder to look at Joel. He scowls, placing his hand on the nape of your neck and pressing your face into the sheets.

"Don't look at me," Joel practically growls. You manage to make some type of noise of agreement from this position, even though Joel just made it infinitely harder to breath. He releases his hand, and you gasp for air. He begins to pick up the pace, relentlessly slamming into you. The force is so much your temple hits the headboard, making you even more disoriented. You whimper as Joel keeps thrusting, fingers digging into your hips. Tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes, and it makes you unbearably upset at yourself. What are you crying over? You grip the sheets, and Joel notices. "That's my girl," he says, sounding distant. "That's it. You know me."

The praise feels sudden, and almost chases away the doubt stirring in your chest. It does nothing for the pain, though. Joel grabs your hands, pinning them above your head, and you start to feel stifled. Your own arms feel like a cage, trapping your head. The sheets bunch around your face, making it hard to breathe again. You're completely naked, but Joel is practically fully clothed, and the collision of his belt buckle with the back of your thigh begins to sting. You can already tell you're going to have a welt. You feel raw, too. You're not used to Joel without spit or your own arousal to make sex more comfortable.

"Joel..." You start to say. You hear him muttering to himself behind you. "Joel," you manage with a bit more force. His movements stutter, but don't stop.

"Hmm? What is it?" You wait for the pet name, for baby or darlin, but it never comes.

"I'm sorry, it hurts, I -" you squeeze your eyes shut. "Texas."

Joel stops the second you say it, still inside you. He lets go of your wrists, and something tells you his hands are hovering mid-air, unsure of what to do.

"Texas," you hear him repeat, absent-minded. "Texas. I... okay." Joel postures up. "I'm going to pull out. Are you ready?" You nod, thankful that Joel notices. He places his hands gently on your hips, like you're made of glass, and slowly pulls out. You hiss at the emptiness, and feel Joel cup your pussy, trying to ease the suddenness of it. He helps you shift to your back, then pulls a quilt over you. You blink.

"I'm sorry," you tell him again. Joel looks at you, brow harsh.

"Don't say that," he tucks himself away. Joel looks at your shaking body, then peels off his flannel to hand to you. You take it, putting it on and sitting up. You draw your knees to your chest, feeling small. "You didn't do anything wrong." You blink.

"You didn't either," you say. Joel scoffs, pacing to the other side of the room. "Please don't leave!" Desperation tinges your voice. Joel stands by the door, back turned. You swallow.

"I'm just grabbin' you some water," Joel looks over his shoulder at you. "Would you prefer I do it later?"

"Yes," you breathe. Joel walks to the edge of the bed.

"Okay," he says, looking defeated. "Tell me what do, sweetheart. Tell me what you need." You look at your lap.

"Can you just... can you sit with me, please?" You ask. Joel inhales, then walks to the side of the bed and climbs on with you. You look at him, tentative, and they lay your head on his shoulder. You slide an arm around Joel's stomach. After a moment, he places a hand over the muscles of your forearm. He ducks his head, lips pressing to the top of your head.

"I'm sorry," he admits. "I never should - the fact I'd let myself do that to you -"

"Stop," you say, voice shaking. "I don't... Joel, don't be mad at yourself. I... please don't be." Joel clutches you, his free hand resting on your waist.

"I'm taking my shit out on you. I shouldn't do that."

"It's been a long journey," your body begins to ache, stress setting in. Joel shakes his head, unsatisfied with your protests.

"No excuses," Joel's entire body is tense. "I always fuck this up, I..." Joel sets his jaw. "I'm a piece of shit for being the one that hurts you."

"Joel, listen -"

"You're the one who needs comfortin' right now, darlin'," Joel interrupts you. He cups your face, and you lean into it. He frowns affectionately at you. "I'm proud of you." You let out a bitter laugh.

"Proud?" You shake your head.

"Yeah," Joel presses emphatically. "Proud. I know it's not easy to stick up for yourself like that," he lets out a long sigh. "And I'm not an easy man to..." Joel trails off. "Well, I'm not an easy man to anything, really."

"Joel," emotion swells in your chest. "I don't think you understand how much you mean to -"

"It's selfish for me to stay with you," Joel tells you. You freeze in his arms.

"Even if that's what I ask you to do?"

Joel doesn't answer. He just keeps holding you, painfully chastely.

[sickiesope]

Energy boost

Sickie: Taehyung

Caretaker: Jungkook

TW: emeto

Taehyung woke up tired today. He didn't sleep the best and just feels overall sluggish. Taehyung can usually hide that he's tired and is good at covering up his yawning in public. But he just hates that feeling weighing him down. They're filming a short dance number for army today and he needs a lot of stamina.

Taehyung doesn't like coffee at all and doesn't understand how Yoongi can drink so much of it. He can't stand the smell or the taste. He's trying to think of another quick fix and wound up buying an energy drink. It's strawberry flavored so he figured he'd try it.

"Since when do you drink energy drinks?" Yoongi teases.

"It tastes better than that burnt hot bean water" Taehyung sasses playfully.

"Maybe, but coffee doesn't make you crash like those do" Yoongi smirks.

Taehyung found it tasted pretty sweet; a little too sweet from what's he's used to but he drank half of it and already feels a little more perky. It gives him more hope about the day. When finished his stomach feels.. weird. He drank that pretty fast. His stomach gurgles with the fizzy drink bubbling up. He burps and pauses for a minute. He feels the caffeine kicking in and rushes to get prepared.

The guys stand in position and Taehyung tries to stay still. He's all jittery and his stomach keeps going off. He doesn't know if anyone else can hear it and palms it cautiously.

"Everyone in place!"

The music starts playing and the choreography is fast pace. Taehyung's body keeps up with the movements but he regrets having that energy drink. The liquid swishes and sloshes inside his stomach with each jump and turn. It feels like his stomach is a bottle being shaken and bubbling up, ready to go off. But he can't stop now, they're halfway through the song. Then his stomach burbles and Taehyung stumbles and hiccups, almost tripping.

"Cut!" They all stop and look at him.

"Tae, why'd you stop?" Hoseok asks.

Taehyung wants to say his stomach hurts but doesn't want to throw off the day. He already messed up and doesn't want people getting mad at him. "I-I'm fine--" *he burps mid sentence.* Taehyung covers his mouth, flustered.

They all look at him strange. Yoongi is looking with concern. That wasn't exactly a small sized can he chugged.

"Ugh, sorry.. I'm sorry, I can keep going." Taehyung says quickly. He just wants to get through this.

"Hmm okay, let's try again" Hoseok gestures them to walk back to starting position. Taehyung puts a fist to his mouth and descretely burps again. He wants to think it helps but isn't sure. His stomach feels queasy and he worries he'll throw up instead. The cameras are going again and he definitely doesn't want that.

On the second take Taehyung isn't as fast, his stomach hurts with all the movements and sloshing. His body can't handle it and his stomach lurches. Taehyung hiccups again and bends over, holding his abdomen. Suddenly he belches and his stomach opens the floodgates, spewing out a fast large wave. 

"Whoa Tae!" Jimin and Jungkook jump back, they were closest to him and just missed getting splashed. Taehyung can't say anything as his stomach is still forcing out it's contents.

The music stops and everyone is shocked at what just happened. Namjoon waves at the staff to stop the cameras and the members run to Taehyung. Taehyung falls to his knees clutching his middle. He sighs in disbelief but his stomach cuts him off with another hard retch. He pants and looks at the pink puddle on the floor. "Ugh, why did I have that?" Taehyung mutters.

Yoongi looks at the young vocalist sympathetically. "It's okay Tae, it could've happened to anyone."

Taehyung feels ridiculous and thought forsure they would scold him but everyone was benevolent and understanding.

-------

Taehyung wasn't thrilled about the car ride back. His stomach's still complaining after all that vomiting. He tries to rub it but he's so tired. Whenever the car hits a bump or a turn his stomach gurgles, making him moan quietly.

"Awwh hyung, that drink really upset your tummy huh?" Jungkook put his hand on Taehyung's stomach. Taehyung just nods as his sick stomach churns. Jungkook wants to help it and starts rubbing lightly "how does this feel?"

Taehyung hums approvingly, letting JK take over. The maknae's hands feel so nice. Taehyung yawns and leans on Jungkook closing his eyes. He's crashing. Jungkook looks and smiles fondly, shifting a bit to make it more comfortable.

[imfluentinfangirlandgay]

A Father's Resolve - Ch 14

Ingo returns after a decade - with two extra cars in tow. Years later, his kids are swallowed up by time in the same way he was. Will he be able to find them? Will they be able to make it out alive?

Word Count: 2300

After gallivanting around the Fieldlands for another week, earning two more stars in the Survey Corps ranks, and Akari finally being released from bedrest after a week and a half, there were over sixty pokemon in their pokedex. That wasn't half-bad! There were a lot more pages to fill, but at least they had a good start! 

Rei tramped up the stairs with his sister to their next assignment. They'd met a new Diamond Clan Warden just a few minutes before, and she seemed in a hurry. Of course, Rei expected they'd go clean up whatever mess she was experiencing. 

They came to Kamado’s office and stood at attention. Arezu was talking to Kamado. 

“Hmm… So it seems pokemon that aren't nobles can be frenzied,” Kamado muttered, stroking his mustache. “Thank you for coming forward with this, Warden. If it has truly come for Ursaluna, this has certain implications for how to proceed.”

Arezu twirled her hair in her hand. “Adaman has his hands full running the Clan and Ursaluna's Warden wouldn't even give me the time of day, so this is the only place I could go.” 

“Warden Calaba,” Kamado confirmed, “the most narrow-minded - ahem! - ‘bound by tradition,” he quickly amended. Rei met eyes with Akari. They distantly remembered the old woman. She’d been the one to force them to take their medicines and would make stern comments to their father. Rei had always gotten the feeling that she didn't like the other Warden. 

Kamado noticed them standing in the doorway. “Ah! Rei and Akari, I have a new mission for you.” He turned to face them, raising his voice slightly. “I order you to study Ursaluna in the Crimson Mirelands! I permit you to show your strength if necessary!” Both twins nodded as Kamado curtly jerked his chin at them in dismissal. 

As they made their way down the second flight of stairs, Akari whispered to Rei in Unovan, “That had to be the shortest meeting we've ever had with Kamado.” Rei snorted. 

They crossed into Cyllene's office. She glanced up at them as they entered. “The next area you will be sent to survey is the Crimson Mirelands,” she said curtly. “The pokemon will be more fearsome and the landscape itself will be less welcoming. At your current rank, you should be able to handle it by yourselves.” She shuffled some papers on her desk. “The destination is a spot called the Solaceon Ruins. This is where you will find Ursaluna's Warden. Find her and convince her to allow you to help, by whatever means necessary.” 

The twins nodded politely at her as she ordered an escort for them. Laventon caught up with them as they left the building, smiling jovially at them. “It's hard to believe you both have scarcely been here two weeks and you're already allowed into the Mirelands by yourselves! Lovely job, lads!” 

“Thanks, Professor,” Akari grinned.��

“Have you both been hearing about the strange new phenomenon happening around Hisui? The space-time distortions that have been popping up?” 

“Huh?” Rei knit his brow as they walked out of camp. “Like the one over Mount Coronet?” 

“Similar for sure,” Laventon said, glancing up at the rift. “However, these are smaller and temporary. The longest they've been recorded is half an hour. They're more contained and will pop up randomly around the region. And the pokemon inside! Things we've never seen before!” Laventon shook his head. “Quite frightening. But nothing you both can't handle I'm sure!” he added as he walked a pace ahead of them, leaving the two to look at each other in worry. 

Finally, the landscape turned a monotonous brownish gray. Mud coated the land as far as the eye could see. A large mountainous protrusion erupted from the land on the other side of a stream. The air was humid here, and rather warm. It was almost sticky just standing here on dry ground. Rei had a feeling he was going to miss showers even more than he already did. 

“Welcome to the Mirelands!” Laventon announced as they came up on the camp. “Here are lots of poison-types in abundance, and plenty of others! I do believe I heard the Solaceon Ruins are not far from here.” He looked toward the mountain nearby. “We'll keep an eye out for those space-time distortions as you survey the area. Best of luck to you both!” he called behind them as they scampered off. 

Rei had been hard at work training up his team. Now most of his team members fare well around most of the Fieldlands. He was worried about those poison types that Laventon had mentioned; Blitz had evolved into a Sylveon just the other day before his eyes. Rei would need to be careful what he sent him out against. 

The twins crossed over the bridge towards the mountainside that Laventon had pointed out. Along the way, Akari snagged a particularly nasty Carnivine. For some reason, it seemed insanely angry at nothing, like the Paras. Was it just a grass-type thing? It couldn't be, the Budew he'd seen at the Golden Lowlands were so docile and cute. 

A tunnel was carved into the mountainside, a semi-ornate doorway made of stone leading deep inside the landscape. A Guard member from Jubilife nodded at them as they entered. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the light as they moved deeper and deeper inside the tunnel. 

Finally, the tunnel widened into a large room with torches in sconces along the walls. Their footsteps echoed against the cold stone walls. In the middle of the room stood two short figures, a human and a pokemon. They both turned to the twins at the sight of them. The human - an elderly woman - was very short, with a Sootfoot root over her head as a makeshift umbrella. Her pack sat heavy on her shoulders, seemingly pulling her down. Her back was slightly hunched. Her eyes were sunken, long wrinkles along her face. Her hair was gray and thin. Her Bibarel stood by her side, as he always had, seemingly before time began. Tiny Rei had imagined Arceus creating the world, and the first beings upon it were Dialga, Palkia, Giratina, Calaba and this particular Bibarel.

Rei remembered once asking Calaba how old she was when he was little. She'd just frowned at him and reminded him that not every question is a good one to ask. 

“I'm Calaba of the Pearl Clan. Warden Calaba to you.” Her voice was exactly as Rei remembered. Raspy, stern, aged. But now, she did not have that glimmer of warmth he remembered, but instead, it was rather cold. Of course, there was no reason for her to be kind towards him, but it still stung for a woman he had considered a grandmother to be so icy towards him. He remembered her giving him a bandage on his scraped knee after falling from a tree once, and now they were complete strangers to her.

She blinked at them slowly. “Hm. You seem to have Celestica Flutes. You must be the ones who fell from the space-time rift.” Akari nodded beside him. Rei quickly nodded as well. Calaba rubbed her chin. “I see.” She looked back up at them, her hands dangling by her sides. “I've heard about you. You quelled Kleavor in his frenzy.” Akari again nodded, prompting Rei to follow, mumbling, “Yes, ma’am.”

Calaba glowered. “I'm sure people were saved by your actions, but I wonder if there wasn't a better way to handle the situation.” Her lips tightened into a frown. “What you did was hardly different than bullying a pokemon into submission. And then you run about catching them in those balls you carry…” Rei could tangibly feel her aloofness. “I don't need help from your sort. Or the Diamond Clan, either. That Arezu offered to help, but associating with the Diamond Clan… it just won't do.” She crossed her arms. “Be on your way. I must not be distracted anymore.” And with that, she turned away to study something on the wall. 

Rei looked at his sister and saw the hint of melancholy he felt reflected in her eyes. The urge to say something, anything, bubbled up in him, to try to remind this woman of the two toddlers she'd watched grow… but it was fruitless. Even more, it was foolish. She’d probably just tell them they were crazy or dislike them even more for ‘lying’ to her. Especially considering that he also dimly remembered her funeral. How his father had mourned the woman in death.

“Hello, you two! Mind showing me the strength that quelled the frenzied lord?” The twins looked up to see the Ginkgo Guild member from before. Volo. 

“Sure.” Akari responded flatly, pulling out a ball as she prepared. Rei could tell exactly what she was doing. Avoiding the feelings at all costs. 

Volo grinned as he readied himself on the other side of the room. Rei couldn't find himself invested in the battle. His mind kept wandering back to his earliest memories of himself with his father and sister and the Pearl Clan. Who else would act so cold towards him? How much would he have to pretend? He hadn't expected that it would affect him so much that people didn't recognize him. Or that he, in his mind, was in the room with a ghost. Zisu was one thing because he didn't have a relationship with her at all but Irida? Calaba, who he remembered being dead? Dad? Oh Arceus, what would happen when they eventually met Dad here? Or Sneasler? 

A tap on his shoulder made him jump. “Rei, come on. We have a side quest.” 

“What?” Rei stood up and brushed off his pants as he followed his sister and Volo. 

“Volo said that there's a piece of a wall engraving missing and that it could make Miss Calaba listen to us,” Akari told him in Unovan, not even trying to hide it from Volo.

Rei followed them as they crossed the bridge again. “I don't see why not-” 

A massive boom reverberated across the land, like an earthquake. It nearly knocked Rei off his feet as he slammed his hands over his ears, searching wildly for the source of the noise. Akari and Volo were doing much of the same. 

On the other side of the Lowlands, Rei noticed a bubble of iridescence blotting out the sun, lightning crackling inside the bubble. Rei looked to his sister. Her eyes were bright and wide, watching the bubble in pure excitement. 

“I think that's a space-time distortion,” Rei said quickly in Unovan. 

Akari nodded. She turned to Volo, “We'll be back in an hour. We need to check what this is about.” Before he could even respond, the twins had already called for Wyrdeer and took off running. 

—-----------

“Ready to head back, brother?” Emmet tapped on Ingo's desk with a gloved hand. “It is now 7:28.” 

“Ah! Yes, allow me to gather my things.” Ingo stood, grabbing his laptop, keys, water bottle, and lunch box and shoving them into his day bag. Emmet stood by the door, his matching bag over his shoulder, hand on the doorknob as he watched Ingo. His twin followed him soon after as he opened the door and stepped out into the main platform. They nodded to one of the night shift agents as they boarded a pedestrian line set for Anville Town. 

Emmet was quiet for awhile as they rode their train to their stop. Not many people were aboard, just a handful of passengers that also seemed to be on their way home from work. An older woman sat at a chair with a book in hand. A man stood with his phone out and a bookbag on his shoulder. Two teen girls, likely on their pokemon journey, giggled as they watched something on a Xtrans. 

It wasn't long before the train slid to a stop and announced their exit. The twins left the train and stepped onto the platform. They climbed the short set of stairs and exited out of the station into the evening air. Fall was approaching rapidly, as seen by the Deerling down and Sawsbuck antlers that dotted the forests nearby. A chill was in the air. Emmet and Ingo walked in-step as they made their way out of the town and towards the outskirts. Towards home. 

“Oh, yes, Emmet, there was something you told me about earlier? That Drayden told you?” Ingo's voice broke the blanket of silence over them, breaking Emmet from his thoughts. 

“Ah, yes. He said there was someone who wanted to speak with us.” 

“I thought you mentioned a Trainer?” Ingo swung his head over to look at him with a raised brow. 

“That was, in fact, something else he mentioned earlier, but there was also someone who wanted to contact us. I told him we could around eight o'clock.” 

“Who is it?” Ingo turned to watch the path again. Their street was coming up. 

“I'm not entirely sure,” Emmet admitted. “Just that she is from Sinnoh and is quite keen on speaking to us as soon as possible.” 

“Sinnoh?” Ingo's frown deepened. “Is it about the children?” 

“I believe it may be.” Their house was not far off now. 

“I do hope it isn't to talk about the heroes again,” Ingo sighed. “I don't know how many more times I can explain that it's not them.” 

“Only one way to find out.” Emmet threw the key into the lock and turned, walking into the home first. “I will talk with Uncle. Grab your laptop.”

[First] - [Previous] - [Next]

[thesporkidentity]

an incomplete list of texts i sent as i slowly lost my mind over the second book of rivers of london, because i fully intend to drag at least one more person into this pit with me. come read with me i promise you're gonna feel so good and normal over this book, come closer

wow okay peter remains the absolute horniest bastard ever. is he a tits or an ass man? yes

oh we are just getting the surface levels hints of nightingales MOUNTAIN of unresolved PTSD and i am very 🥺

you ever feel like a character was written specifically to appeal to you? i'm getting so many tantalizing hints and i KNOW he's going to destroy because he's catnip. he is bait specifically designed to hurt my feelings

also his description makes me think of lee pace or like, 90s/00s paul mcgann and that's just Very Good and i'm being deeply not normal about it

also nightingale reads as SO queer to me, and the potential in fic to explore what that means insofar as how he has navigated the changing landscape of queerness from 1900 to present day is so tantalizing. i don't care that the author says he's not, in this case the author is wrong lol

i must say, i do not care for simone. if we absolutely MUST have hetersexual nonsense in this book i would like beverly back please. she was cool and not a cheating homewrecking jazz groupie lol

still not impressed with simone. i mean, far be it from me to judge a woman's grieving process and all, but she doesn't seem very broken up over her within-the-week dead lover. i mean, i LOVE peter and all and he's hot shit, but immediately falling into bed with him? sus

in conclusion bring 👏 bev 👏 back 👏

also peter, buddy, WHAT ARE YOU DOING

he's a disaster so even though i'm screaming DON'T DO THAT i am unsurprised he is being led around by his dick by a beautiful woman throwing herself at him

but i just. i Don't Trust Her. she doesn't make sense, and i can't tell if this is a case of male author writing wish fulfillment and thus not giving the hot girl adequate motivation of her own

or whether i AM supposed to find it suspicious the way she basically doesn't mourn the man she homewrecked who died very suddenly and then IMMEDIATELY jumps into bed with the magic cop investigating his very probable murder

and i REALIZE the only way to find out is to keep reading, it's just frustrating that women are written poorly so often that, even if he's written good women before, i still have to debate with this is a subtle clue or just Male Author Syndrome

oh my god he finally twigs that this may be weird behavior. peter. bud.

at least he got it before trying to sneak her past folly wards?

side note: god lesley really got the short end of the stick. like, her face fell off, her teeth are a fucking mess, and she probably has brain damage. she got royally shafted

peter "i'm totally straight" grant, talking about how he wants to take a muscly guy by the shoulders and kiss his cheeks and making sure to mention how many phone numbers her got while canvasing the gay bar.

hmm sure, jan

look i KNOW peter is Incredibly Horny All The Time when near any attractive woman, but simone appears from NOWHERE half dressed while he's canvassing for the jazz vampire and he just skives off like that? while looking for a potential killer? that doesn't seem like him he's not that irresponsible. that smells like conspiracy and glamour and i don't trust herrrrrrr

like, peter was already horny wanting to motorboat mama thames (lol don't think i didn't catch that pun) last book. but this book has been a whole new level of horny, and peter may be distractible but not THAT distractible surely

another side note. i love molly and nightingale's weird friendship they've developed living basically with just each other for decades.

oh jesus that's fucked up

oh the severed head is talking

oh. oh no. it got worse

peter, darling, beloved, is now REALLY the time to be talking about how hot your boss is? like i appreciate your dedication to the thirst but time and place, bud

oh never mind i forgive you nightingale is so fucking cool, i get it, i love him

he's so good. the most tragic backstory and perfect stiff upper lip old fashioned english gentleman on the outside, and then just below the surface he's a daredevil and a bit of a bitch and he fucking CARES just SO MUCH and have i mentioned how much the casterbrook wall HURTS ME?? this was revealed in the last book but i just remembered it and it stabbed me again

okay i'm done

i feel like peter has miscalculated making a deal with his cousin to teach her if she aces latin. that's gonna come back to bite lol hope you like teaching too smart for their own good teenagers cuz that's gonna be your life now

"but sir, what do we do if you die??!" "well, that doesn't seem like it will be my problem at that point :)" he's such a bitch sometimes and i LOVE him, mother

ohhhhh. oh no. the pale lady looked like molly and now molly is obviously not okay after she died, that resemblance wasn't just coincidence she definitely knew her 😢

and this is the first person peter has killed, no matter how accidentally. and nightingale is back in the hospital with his chest infection. wow everyone is just having a terrible time right now

okay. i realize that as a memory for him this probably isn't a GOOD one, it's from the war and probably much scarier and MUCH more traumatizing than he makes it sound with his dry narration of it. but god. nightingale knocked out two TANKS. by himself. with his mind. fucking sexy lol

oh damn it why can't they just let me be horny about how powerful he is instead of immediately following it with the fact that he was rear guard and making emotional that it means he was the one trusted to watch over and protect the rest of his men while they retreated as that one final shield between them and enemy fire

hhhhhhhholy shit what did simone DO to mama grant???!!!!

she just bitch slapped her!

OH MY GOD SHE TRIED TO HOMEWRECK HIS PARENTS TOO???

she's PLAUSIBLY IMMORTAL???

fuck i was right she was sketchy as hell!!

she's a fucking jazz vampire and she's been glamouring and sucking him dry! buddy, get to dr walid STAT for a brain scan and make sure she's not turning you into cauliflower!

peter don't you make excuses for her you KNOW it's possible, stop lying about your mum and trying to make her feel better you need to take her in she's a m u r d e r e r

i mean, glamour yes i realize but god, frustrating

good lad peter, i see you fighting it 💪🏾

ohhhhhhhh. oh fuck. she didn't KNOW. she didn't know she was from the 40s and killing people. oh this is bad

nightingale, attempting to show concern: "that was not the most intelligent thing you've done" xD 10/10 nailed it buddy

umm, nightingale? this may not be the black and white moral situation you think it is to go in guns blazing...

it's both funny and little sad how militant both molly and dr walid are when nightingale is injured like. i do LOVE when the person who is SUPPOSEDLY in charge gets lovingly bullied, but it hurts because that's also probably the ONLY way to make him take care of himself is if they FORCE him. and peter's not any better, he's gonna need bullying too

i do love when they team up though. molly and nightingale ganging up against peter like. nightingale gets the special treatment and a hot cocoa from molly, but peter gets the dog's leash and smug little "i'm on bedrest :)" or nightingale foisting the rest of his kidney pie on peter while molly is out of the room then grabbing his empty plate back to pretend he ate it all himself when she returns xD

the cases are interesting and all, but i think it's the core characters that are really the standout of the novel and the reason i keep reading even while i'm asking myself things like, but WHY is she killing via vagina dentata instead of literally any other assassination method? i think it's also why simone stood out so much. she HAD no background that we were told (until now) aside from being sexy. which of course i now know was intentional

"this is your brain, which is not only clean and unsullied by thought..." i love dr walid. it probably says something about me that my favorite characters all have to be at least a little bit of a bitch

oh no i'm having feeeeeelings about both nightingale and peter trying to keep the other out of the vampire raid to shield them from the emotional effects of it, just from opposite ends. nightingale doesn't want peter to have the pain of ANOTHER death on his hands, this one purposeful as opposed to the accidental death of the pale lady, so he's trying to just cut him out of it. and then peter ALSO doesn't want NIGHTINGALE to have the weight of more deaths on his soul and wants to protect him from what he sees as the unfortunate necessity of having to off someone who isn't intentionally hurting someone but still may be too dangerous to live. nightingale trying to save peter from his bleeding heart and peter saving nightingale from his practicality overriding his morality 😭 i just love when characters try to take care of each other in mirrored ways

uh...uh oh peter...no i don't think those are the police OR nightingale's paratrooper buddies

okay the audiobook is fucking excellent though, his infomercial voice while extolling the virtues of doc martins is KILLING me

oh this posh wanker. "oh what is feeding on people but another form of exploitation, and we all know there's nothing wrong with exploiting workers, equality is morally bankrupt anyway" god i hate you already you're insufferable

like of COURSE a dining club oxford nose wipe would think that way. he thinks he's sooooo slick and original with his chimeras they're such exciting new COL crimes but it all just boils down the the exact same rich white bullshit mentality

he would hate it if he realized how dull and banal his villainy is once you strip back the shock value of the trappings. just another entitled prick who views people as things, fuck this dude

i'd be tempted to say the faceless man's signare smelling like pork was a dig at david cameron and piggate if i didn't know it was written a few years too early for that lol

peter: oh no nightingale is going to give me SUCH a bollocking nightingale, obviously so relieved he's alive: very much does NOT give him a bollocking and instead tells him how impressive it is that he didn't just immediately die against the faceless man

"for a terrifying moment i thought he was going to huge me, but fortunately we both remembered we were english just in time. still, it was a close call" 🤣🤣🤣

oh ouch peter. just use all his dead friends against him. effective but also, low blow

god he wants so badly for peter to be right, too, that they and HE doesn't have to kill anyone anymore, that how that it's not Just Him ALl Alone they might have the support structure for other options. oh no i want this to work so badly so that hope is validated, but i just know something is gonna go wrong

welp

i didn't like her but i didn't want her fuckin DEAD you know?

and now the ones left standing have to deal with the trauma and the fallout

oh lesley :( they're both trying so hard to be normal about it and they're such good friends 🥺

LESLEY DO MAGIC?

LESLEY JOIN TEAM FOLLY???!!

also don't think you've been sneaky there and that i haven't noticed SOME sort of thematic symmetry of lesley struggling with having lost her face involuntarily from magic, and the faceless man having voluntarily masked himself. involuntary vs voluntary loss of identity. i'm sure there will be more parallels in the next book but like. i see you. i see you setting up face themes with these two

hopefully with lesley regaining her face somehow and thus reclaiming identity while the faceless man is unmasked thus losing the identity he built for himself and revealing the true one he hid. maybe hopefully? i want good things for lesley and bad things for the faceless one.

[danplansfwtickle-blog0]

Title: dolls

description: Daniel finally gets the upper hand on Jay after a long while of being jays prey, he will no longer suffer being his victim now.

(Please consider that when I involve Dan it will be taking place before……you know…😬 so please know that I never want to make anyone uncomfortable)

(Dominant) Ler: Daniel

lee: sociopath

——————————————————

Jay gave the small doll in hand a smile, placing one last needle into it and gazing it over, he had finally perfected the voodoo doll and was ready for use. The small figure resembled Daniel, his vibrant green hair, his pink sweater and he was even able to make another doll that was made to look like him aswell, not for any voodoo reasons of course, that doll shall not be touched by such whichcraft.

In fact if someone where to put a curse on such an innocent toy, then he would have their head rather darn quickly. But jay had misplaced the toy and he was nervous, if someone were to find it. Even if it wasn’t for any dark magic.

Jay wanted to test the doll, so he stood from his desk and walked over to the wall and pressed against it, his bedroom door ajar and yet just wide enough space to look down the hall and saw Daniel sitting on the couch talking to hosuh, something about some nonsense that probably involved Stephen in the matter. Jay watched carefully, making sure that even with the slightest movement he wouldn’t be seen.

There was no indication that he would be seen, no matter what he did.

Jay smiled slyly, then started give pressure on the dolls side, at first he thought it was a fail. But then noticed Dan start to flinch. Daniel placed a hand on his side to which hosuh asked what’s wrong, Dan didn’t answer at first until Jay had gone to poke the other side, Daniel started to smirk a little.

“Heh, not so tough are you, Dan?” Jay mumbled proudly.

Jay proceeds to poke fun (pun half- intended) at the doll, prodding repeatedly at the dolls sides and ribs, making Daniel fall into fits and giggle before hosuh spoke.

“Uhh Dan? Look..” Hosuh said, pointing his finger down the hall, Dan turned to see Jay on the other side of the slightly opened door.

Jay then ran deeper into the room and Dan knew that he was probably gonna hide some where and so he stood up from the couch as he made his slow pace towards the door with a nonchalant expression, saying to hosuh: “I’ll be right back, gotta deal with a trouble maker”

Hosuh snickered before sauntering off towards Stephen’s room, perhaps he could find more entertaining conversation there.

Jay who was in frantic mode, knew that Daniel would be here any second, so the options he had were the closet, behind the chair in the corner and jumping out the window. He chose the closet and closed both doors and sitting down in the deepest part possible before hearing the door open to the bedroom.

Dan had obviously known it was the closet door that shut just before him, but Dan wanted sadistic pay back.

Dan then reached behind his back as he spoke calmly, though there was a hint of malice in his voice.

“You know jay, I was the one that took your doll” Dan then pulled it from his back pocket. “And now your gonna get a taste of defeat”

Jay covered his mouth with the plush at his side, fearing the worst out of the evil dungeon master.

Jay started to feel a sensation in his side, Dan was scratching that spot delicately.

“How does that feel?”

Jay didn’t reply, but then he heard slow menacing footsteps around his room, taking his time to make suspense.

“I know you’re hiding here somewhere, I just need to figure out what would make you break~” Dan teased in wonder, attacking both sides of the doll with his one hand.

Jay tried his best to keep as still and as quiet as possible. The best he could do was bite his arm as if the gag himself, while clenching his his other fist.

“Now where could jay be? Hmm?” Daniel asked to seemingly no one, dragging his fingers into the ribs of Jay.

Daniel walked over and looked under the bed but was found to be absent.

“Well, it seems like jay is not hiding here, how about…” Dan then moved over to the chair in the corner and looked behind it swiftly, saying aloud: “HERE! Hmm”

Jay flinched at the sudden shout, but to his dismay, the shift had caused a loud fabric against carport rubbing sound, to be heard from out side the closet. Daniel was still tickling the doll, but now he was becoming more evil and dominant with it, slowly tracing a finger down the dolls ribs, down to the sides and getting to the belly in a slow process, this was making Jay just barely hold back any giggling that made him sound like a child playing hide and seek.

Dan turned and made his way to the closet and kept his finger at a slow pace, while also teasing Jay to death.

“Was that a giggle I just heard? Did jay just giggle? I don’t think I ever heard him giggle before?~” dan asked, he was about half way to the closet when he reached the dolls stomach when he heard extreamly but noticeable muffled laughter from the closet.

“DAHAHAHAHANIEL!!” The yell was more clear than it seemed.

Dan ran after the closet door and saw Jay laying there with his arms over his stomach, his expression was once happy, but was now embarrassed.

“There’s jay! It’s almost like you the idea of hiding was a bad idea” dna mocked, jay was about to get up but Dan noticed him unblock his stomach and Daniel immediately poked the doll again.

Jay fell on his tailbone and started laughing again, covering his stomach, even though it didn’t do anything good. He startled rolling around, like a chinchilla talking a dust bath.

“Awww, jay has a ticklish tummy~ does Jay like his belly to be tickled?~” Daniel teased playfully, using two fingers that danced around on the dolls stomach.

Jay repeatedly slammed his fists into the ground, wishing that he had the strength to get up and tackle Daniel to the ground and take that damn doll away from him.

“DAHAHAHANIEL STOHOHHOHOP TIHIHIHIHICKLING MEHEHEHEHE!” Jay yelled, rolling onto his back and bending backwards, as if moving a certain way would deflect the tickling sensation.

“But this is my chance I’m taking to get back at you for being my persuer” Daniel replied. “But for someone who is normally nonchalant and chill, your very squirmy”

Daniel then put a hand down to start scribbling at jays real stomach found more pleasure in that.

“Hmm” daniel hummed amusingly before tossing the doll and started to analyze jays torso. “Let’s see, now that I have this jay doll..” Daniel looked at Jay with a wolfish grin. “And these needles..” Daniel raised his hands to reveal ten fingers. “I can finally pin the cushion”

Before jay could do or say anything, Daniel started to rapidly jab and wiggle his ten fingers into jays sides, making him jump and squirm.

“WAHAHAHAHAIT!! STOHOHOHOHOP IM TOHOHOHHOO TICKLISH HAHAHA!!” Jay pleaded.

“Well, then what about here?”

“NOHOHOHO! NOT MY BEHEHEHELLY!” Jay cackled when ten hands made contact with his stomach.

“Seems like this sociopath has become a tickishpath, the ticklish symptoms being the…” Daniel then poked or lightly scribbled and scurried his fingers across jays body with each word that came out. “Sides…”

“And the ribs…”

“NOHHOHO!”

“Oh! And of course, the belly-“

“NOHOHO!”

“And this little guy here…” Daniel then placed his finger on jays navel making him jump violently, already in a set of giggles. “Has a habit of being so sensitive that it makes it easy to tease with just the point of my finger…as..I trace my, finger tip around the edge of the center”

Jay covered his mouth and startled laughing uncontrollably through his hands.

“HMHMHMHMMMHMHMHMHMM”

“Why are you laughing?~” Daniel asked light heartedly. “Awwwwww, Does it tickle?”

All jay could do was scream/laugh into his hands, while Dan teased his soul away into the void of his mind.

Jay shook his head, trying to block out Daniel’s torment.

“No? Then why are you laughing? Daniel is just playing with you~ he just wants to hear you laugh” Daniel couldn’t help but giggle a little bit, still tracing the edge of jays navel a little longer.

After a short moment Daniel stopped and got off jay, letting him breath. Once Jay was at least able to speak, he spoke.

“Evil….son of a gun..” Jay said roughly, clenching his stomach.

Daniel laughed, knowing he may regret this somewhere in the future.

@ghostlee

Man I’m just throwing these at you! 😂 but I enjoy writing them as much as you enjoy reading them! I feel I’m getting better at ideas for these!

[gludgenbell]

Have you ever felt "out of touch" with what's happening around you? And have you ever felt "out of your mind" with worry or stress? How did you handle it and cope?

Hmm

I'm not sure if out of touch and distant are interchangeable but I've definitely felt like I'm quite a bit far lately....

As for handling stress, I take a lot of comfort in knowing I'm not facing anything I can't overcome! And there's a sunrise to every sunset

I don't think I'm much of a worrier, I tend to be very relaxed until everything kicks into high gear and I plan/work until I'm satisfied Abe I don't. Take breaks or eat during that time

I've felt out of my mind with stress before and it's made me very irritable and quick to tears

I've hurt myself a few times (lightly, I am ok) in search of a release for the excess energy and found myself running/pacing in circles for minutes to an hour

Extended answer going under the cut about that first question because this is a long one and the mood is very gray, and I think I need to talk more abt it! If you feel like reading it though, you tell me if I'm out of touch or not

I'm realizing I like my personal space! I don't talk much and most of the time I go 'mm' in varying octaves and lengths! I'm realizing I'm not very interactive with my family during the day and most of the time I'm kind of put off about everything

My friend left for college the other day, they had a party I wasn't invited to and I didn't care about it but I got the impression from our other friends that went that maybe I should've?

They left and I got to talk to them on the phone and one of our moots kept asking if I had anything sentimental I wanted to say and all I could say was good luck and goodbye because I actually don't know what they're going to college for

I actively chose to speak to 3 people during the whole two months of summer, and for one of those people I was only half-there be cause I just didn't care about what was happening with us

I'm prepping to go on a mission for church! It's some big thinking and my friend told me she'd be okay and I didn't realize she was going to miss me until she mentioned she was crying about our other friend having left

I think, I'm very not here with the people around me

I have a hard time listening when some moots talk, and I keep feeling like I'm coming off more and more like a jerk because I just can't connect? I know I can be really empathetic, but I can be horribly selfish and I feel like I'm losing a lot of my empathy and I'm becoming incredibly apathetic

I really only think I have two people I'd call friends, which is tough when people keep insisting we're friends and I know by all accounts we are but I just can't seem to care about them

I'm supposed to make money so I can feed myself! And help my younger siblings! And I'd like a job for human interaction because I know I'm not getting enough

But I haven't been hired all through summer and I don't care anymore

I know I need to, but the idea of interacting with people, of having to learn again just leaves a bad taste in my mouth which is crazy because that's not me! I love people, I love interactions? I've found myself telling moots that I just don't like people anymore, in the sense that I'm always upset when they start talking and like

Everyone has a reason to say something. There's a purpose behind every word. I can't get past that purpose when someone talks. I'm intently aware of the message in their words and if there isn't one, the fluctuation of their tone

I'm annoyed by everyone who isn't my family and my two friends, I don't like talking to anyone who isn't my family or my two friends

I've been asked to call and for four whole hours I'm just irritated

I can mask my voice well enough but I sit there, for hours, staring at the wall just upset and going 'mm' every few seconds??

I don't think I'm above anyone really, I'm not out of touch in that sense

I just can't build a bridge between me and most people anymore and it's been happening more and more as months go on

Like I see the outline, I know the blueprint

I know what I have to do and I know what I used to do not even a whole year ago

But I have a hard time feeling like it's even worth it to pick up the pieces and start building

Even with my family I have to remind myself that relationship takes sacrifice and I have to do this thing I don't want to do, help when I don't want to help, care when I don't feel like caring, for there to be any love

n e way I'm not sure if it's out of touch or not to feel that way! It might be...?

[rebrandedbard]

number 42 for the drabble prompts please? :)

42. “I swear it was an accident.”

tw: death (not of main characters), kinda gross corpse descriptions

WC: 2456

Poet’s Sight

Jaskier keeps falling in with dangerous creatures and Geralt is starting to think he’s cursed. That is, until Geralt takes a contract for a noonwraith and Jaskier gets ahead of him. It is then Geralt remembers something important about the nature of rare poets.

-

That made the third time. Three monsters in as many months, and Geralt was starting to worry. Somehow, Jaskier had a habit of stumbling upon the creatures before him, even when he was doing his best to stay away from the fight. Though his medallion offered no hints, Geralt felt sure Jaskier had been cursed somehow. There was no other explanation for it. For two of the hunts, Geralt had not yet arrived in town, would not have been able to defend Jaskier if he got himself into any kind of trouble, and Jaskier had been entirely unaware of the contracts. But this had been the final straw. As things were, Jaskier ought not to be living.

“I swear, it was an accident,” Jaskier said. “The light was low and it seemed like any ordinary dog. I swear, it was an ordinary dog. It had fur and everything—nothing at all as you described.”

Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s shoulders, the corpse of the beast just yards away from where they stood. “It was a barghest. Do you have any idea how much danger you were in! It would have eaten you alive if I let it, torn you from the bowels out!”

“But it…”

“They don’t have a quality of mercy.”

Jaskier stared at the corpse. He wore a pinched expression, not quite comprehending the vision before him. The fleshy, mutated monster looked so much larger, so much more twisted than it had moments before. Its odd tongue, prickled and forked, flopped out from its foaming maw. That same tongue had felt the same as any dog’s before as it licked Jaskier’s face. It had been smooth and slimy and affectionate. And it had not had such large teeth.

He’d gone out to fetch more wood for the fire—really, he’d gone out to relieve himself in private—and he’d happened upon a dog among the bushes. It had looked perfectly sweet in the moonlight: a shaggy brown and white thing with a fluffy, wagging tail. It had followed after him on his way back to camp. Jaskier had always been fond of dogs, so he’d stopped awhile to pet it. Really, it had been friendly. It curled up at his feet and allowed him to scratch it behind the ears. Everything had been just fine, and he’d just picked up a large stick to initiate a quick game of fetch when Geralt came crashing out of the trees, sword raised.

“It was an ordinary dog,” Jaskier whispered. He still had the stick in his hand.

Geralt looked Jaskier in the eye. His nostrils flared ever-so slightly, as if scenting for a lie. The lines in his face smoothed and he sighed, prying the stick from Jaskier’s grasp. “I thought you’d seen it. The way you raised the stick …” He looked at it. It would have snapped in an instant in a true fight. He tossed it near the barghest’s corpse and turned Jaskier back towards camp.

“… You felt fur?” he asked.

Jaskier nodded. “Soft as anything.”

“I don’t understand it. To you, it was as if it were nothing more than a dog.”

“Perhaps I’m seeing things wrong. Was it …  as it tasting me before the feast? When I pet it, was it simply waiting to size me up? Oh, Geralt, what if I’ve had my mind taken over by a witch? Am I seeing visions? Are you real?”

He reached up to grope at Geralt’s cheeks, pulling them and prodding at his armour, his swords, and his chest. Geralt pulled his hands away carefully and shook his head.

“There’s not a trace of magic around you as far as I can tell,” he grunted.

“Then we’ll have to find someone who can tell these things. I’m scared, Geralt. I already lack the ability to defend myself in other ways; if I don’t know when to run, I’ll surely wind up dead before the year is out, if not sooner!”

Probably sooner, Geralt thought. “We’ll consult a mage. There are curses strong enough to evade detection from the medallion. They’re rare, but not unheard of. A mage would be able to tell us more: what kind of curse it is and how to lift it.”

As they stepped into the safety of the firelight, Roach raised her head, flicking her ears towards Jaskier. He wobbled over to her and wrapped his arms around her neck. She sniffed him, then turned her ear to Geralt for answers.

Geralt was looking at Jaskier carefully. It would be too dangerous to stay in the woods another night. Where there was one barghest, there were bound to be others. He would keep watch until first light, then they’d set out for the next town.

“Jaskier,” Geralt called.

Jaskier uncurled from Roach’s neck.

“I want you to stay in town for my next contract,” he said. “You’ll under a curfew until this gets resolved: indoors between dusk and dawn. I want you on the inn grounds whenever I’m not present. Are we understood?”

Jaskier balked at being confined indoors. “Can’t I come along with you?” he asked.

“No. If this is a curse, you might be a danger to me on contracts. To me and yourself.” It would be a greater liability than merely getting underfoot. This thing seemed to attract danger, or else to pull Jaskier towards danger. Either way, he was staying put somewhere safe.

“But Geralt—”

“I won’t hear any argument,” Geralt snapped. He narrowed his eyes, pinning Jaskier with a glare. “Do you remember what happened two weeks ago? You heard a woman cry in the middle of the night. And what did you do?”

Jaskier sighed and flopped down on his bedroll. “She didn’t wail like a banshee. And I’ve told you a hundred times over: she looked human! I held her hand! You can’t hold the hand of a ghost,” he protested. “And what’s more, she spoke. It wasn’t nonsense. How was I to know what she was if I can’t trust my own eyes and ears?”

He lay down in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Geralt could feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves. “What I find odd is that none of them so far have hurt me,” he mumbled.

“That’s because I came in time to save your satin-covered ass,” Geralt replied.

“I was with the banshee for hours, Geralt. You didn’t arrive in town until the middle of the night. Why would she wait to kill me when she had me already?”

Geralt thought about it. A banshee was more often an omen than an outright threat, though still dangerous. He’d stayed close to Jaskier for the next three days to see what dreaded fortune the omen foretold, but he’d not come to any harm in that time. Then again, he’d never heard of a banshee speaking before. It was possible Jaskier had not been with her for hours as he claimed, for if his senses were betraying him, how could he know the passing of the time? His accounts were questionable until this was resolved.

When they arrived in town the next morning, it was just before noon. There was no inn, but they were given permission to stay in one of the farmer’s barns. Geralt went to the alderman for a contract and left Jaskier safely behind, composing in among the hay. It was a noonwraith, Geralt discovered, that had been withering the fields. He oiled his sword and returned to the edge of town to wait for it to appear.

On the way, he stopped by the barn to update Jaskier. He was surprised to hear no music within. When he looked, he did not see Jaskier dozing among the hay. He was not where he’d left him at Roach’s side. Listening closely, he heard no heartbeat within. Jaskier was gone.

Geralt cursed and tore himself from the barn. “Jaskier!” he called. But Jaskier was not about. Geralt followed the trail of his scent toward the fields, his feet pounding on the dry earth. He’d made Jaskier promise not to leave the barn. He’d damn well better be enchanted to wander off so mindlessly on his own.

“Miss? Little miss, would you please slow down! I’m not supposed to be out here!”

Geralt turned his head toward the sound of Jaskier’s pleas. There, down the hill, he saw a flash of blue among the yellow stalks. Jaskier was running along the edge of the field, one arm out as if chasing something. He was shouting in his worried voice. As Geralt watched, Jaskier paced in front of the boundary, hesitating before an opening in among the tall crops.

“Little girl?” Jaskier called. “This isn’t a game! You bring me back my ring this instant!” Then, he called out again, diving into the fray.

But Geralt had seen no girl.

Geralt charged down the hill and entered the fields full-tilt. He followed the trail, catching up from behind, listening as he did. His sword was at the ready. The sun was already approaching its apex, and soon the wraith would be out. If it wasn’t out already.

“Troublesome girl!” Jaskier gruffed. “First she steals my ring, then she drops it in the dirt like a seed among the ro—”

There came a pause, and Geralt heard a stalk break somewhere ahead by Jaskier. His voice came again from the same place. “Well, that’s an odd find. Popped up like a lucky charm. Did the thing grow through you?”

The wind stirred, carrying Jaskier’s words clearly, though he was still too far to reach. Geralt’s blood ran cold. His medallion was trembling against his chest, warning of the wraith’s arrival.

“Oh? Is it yours, young lady?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt felt the panic wash over him. A ring in a field. A token from the wraith. The idiot ought not to have touched it! She’d make him the target of her wrath, dry up his soul into a husk, and force him to waste himself away like the withered stalks around them with only—

“A dance?” Jaskier asked. He laughed, voice ringing clear above the wind. “Oh, very well, but only a very short one; I’ve still got to find that little girl, give her a lecture about respecting personal property.”

Geralt was almost upon them. He could see the clearing in the field ahead, the strong sunlight filtering through. Jaskier’s voice was clearer, and the wind had a strange quality to it. It seemed to lull in time to Jaskier’s speech.

“Sister? Ah, then I’d best go easy on her,” Jaskier said. He was moving away quickly now. The wind blew, and suddenly Jaskier was laughing, bright and clear. “Buried your mother’s ring? What a scamp! And you’ve been out here every afternoon liking for it since—and no wonder! It’s a lovely piece. May I?”

Geralt broke through the field in time to see Jaskier dancing with the wraith. She was a hollowed thing, burned by the sun, her hair bleached white. They turned once, then Jaskier lowered himself on one knee and, taking the wraith’s hand, slipped the ring onto her finger.

“There!” Jaskier said. “You know? Our rings almost make a pair.”

The wind blew and Jaskier appeared to be listening. He laughed, patting the wraith’s hands, and the wind stopped blowing. “Oh no, I’m afraid I’m spoken for. It would make a lovely engagement ring, but not to me. Even so, I don’t suppose a kiss would be amiss.” And so he leaned forward and kissed the wraith’s cheek, as if she were not a lifeless husk.

Geralt was stunned. It was … it was as if the wraith were speaking to Jaskier. He watched the two of them start up the dance again. He’d witnessed the dancing of noonwraiths before, and their victims screamed in horror until their final breath. The wraith made them dance in a mad frenzy until they fell to the ground, dead from exhaustion and terror. This dance was a frolic, full of laughter. It was unhurried as Jaskier allowed himself to be twirled round and round. When the dance came to an end, it had not been any more than the length of a song. Jaskier tilted his head, listening while the wind whistled in the field.

“So soon?” he asked. “Well, I thank you for the lovely dance. You be sure to tell your sister to mind her manners for me, won’t you? I’ve got to head back myself before I give my witcher a fright. I—oh, there she is now!”

Geralt turned to look where Jaskier was waving, but he saw nothing at all.

“You mind your sister,” Jaskier said, wagging a finger at the empty air. “You’re much too old to be getting up to these tricks.”

And at once, Geralt understood. Jaskier was a poet. There were poets in this world who were made of a different cut—who could see beyond the limits of the physical world. The banshee, the barghest, the wraith … and Geralt was sure even now that Jaskier was shaking his finger in the face of a ghost. They were all of the other realm.

He had sight.

Jaskier waved as the wraith began to fade through the field, disappearing. “Take care!” he called. “And be careful on your way. There’s a contract in town, so there’s trouble about somewhere. Have no fear, we’ll be sure to make everything safe, my witcher and I.”

At that, Geralt snorted, and Jaskier turned his head.

Jaskier turned pale at once, clutching his hands to his chest. “Ger—I can explain, Geralt!” he stammered. “I swear, I would have stayed in the barn, but this little girl came in and she stole my ring right off my finger! It’s my father’s ring, and I couldn’t just let … her …” Jaskier blinked, staring at Geralt, perplexed. “Are you laughing?”

Indeed Geralt was. All the stress from the last three months bubbled up and escaped as laughter, shaking his shoulders.

Jaskier chuckled along nervously. “I would have thought you’d be furious with me for running out. Erm … did you finish your contract then?”

Geralt clapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder. “I’d say you finished it for me today,” he corrected. “And I’ve just figured out the answer to your little curse.”

Jaskier perked up slightly, realizing he wasn’t in trouble just yet. “Is that so? Will you tell me then?”

“If you promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Geralt smiled and rubbed the ash from Jaskier’s lips with his glove. “Never,” he said, “kiss another noonwraith again.”

“Kiss a what?” Jaskier squawked.

[santoteez]

Kinktober 2022 - Day Four

Genre: Smut

Idol: Kim Jungwoo of NCT

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Overstimulation, Choking, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, less plot than my other fics

Jungwoo shut the door softly, sliding the chain into the slot. He set his bags down next to the couch, careful not to make noise. It was half past nine in the morning on a Saturday, so he knew Y/N would still be sleeping.

He pushed the bedroom door open softly, peering inside. He smiled as he took in the view in front of him. Just as he suspected, Y/N was fast asleep, arms wrapped around the pillow beneath her head. It only took Jungwoo a second to realize the shirt she had on was actually his, the hem of the garment just barely covering the curve of her ass as she shifted in her sleep.

Jungwoo sighed as he stepped further into the room. How long had he been on tour? 3, 4 months? Jungwoo wasn’t sure. Every day without Y/N felt like a year, anyway.

He allowed his fingertips to graze her bare thighs, stifling the groan that threatened to escape his lips. He reveled in the velvety smoothness, courtesy of the cocoa butter on the nightstand, a staple in the house since they moved in together. Jungwoo’s hand traveled farther until it crept under the shirt, her panties on full display for his wandering eyes. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the small of her back. He watched with baiting breath as she stirred in her sleep, part of him expecting her to wake up. He chuckled softly as he heard the snores resume. He trailed kisses along her spine, lifting the shirt as he went.

“Baby, you have no idea what you do to me.” He said, knowing Y/N couldn’t hear him.

He stood there for what felt like centuries, an internal battle with himself. The little guy on his left shoulder told him to yank her panties off and become her personal alarm clock. The little guy on his right shamed both of them for thinking such a thing, instead suggesting waking her up with breakfast and letting things progress organically.

Jungwoo didn’t have time to hear either argument any further when he heard, “Jungwoo?”

He glanced up at the source of the cute, groggy voice.

He smiled. “Awake, baby?” 

“Why didn’t you wake me as soon-” Y/N pushed herself off the bed, only to be pushed back down.

Jungwoo apologized to the guy in white on his right before saying, “Stay just like that, baby.” He slid her panties off, letting them fall at the foot of the bed. He pulled at her hips until she was positioned on her knees before spreading her legs and dipping his head.

He marveled at how wet she already was despite waking up moments ago.

“I love how your body reacts to me. Even in your sleep.”

“Hmm, so you were kissing me. I thought it was part of my dream.”

“Oh? Were you dreaming of me?” He crept his tongue inside her cunt, dying for a taste.

“Maybe.”

“Tell me, what was I doing in your dream?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath as Jungwoo’s tongue circled her clit. “Y-you had your fingers inside me.”

“Like this?” He slipped his middle finger into the heat of her cunt, satisfied when he felt her clamp down on the digit.

“It was two of them, and it was faster.”

Jungwoo obliged, adding his ring finger and picking up the pace. “Do you know what it’s like to be on the road without you? It feels like I’m losing my mind whenever I board a plane and leave you here.”

Y/N tangled her fingers in the pillowcase below. “Your sweet words don’t match your actions.”

He laughed, his appendages now knuckle deep. “I guess not. But that’s what you love about me, no?”

Y/N whimpered, unable to provide a response to his question. All she could mutter was a meek “I’m close.”

Jungwoo hummed as her cunt clenched his fingers, coating them with her cum. He pulled them out, licking them clean. “You’re the best I’ve ever had, baby.”

Y/N’s body jolted up in surprise when Jungwoo’s tongue found her clit again. “Jungwoo, baby. Baby, hold on. I just-” She stammered, desperately trying to drag herself toward the opposite end of the mattress.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Jungwoo hooked his arms around her thighs, pulling her back towards him. “Where are you going? I’m not done with you yet.” Using his fingers to spread her folds, he latched his lips to the bud, flicking his tongue against it deliciously.

Y/N groaned, writhing in sweet overstimulation. She was highly aware of every sense: she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and smell her boyfriend’s signature cologne. Of course, she could also hear and feel his wicked tongue trailing back and forth from her weeping hole to her clit.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re close again, aren’t you, baby?”

As if it were the theme of the day, he went unanswered once again, unless he counted the successive pants she let out as if her life depended on it. 

Jungwoo let out a moan of his own as Y/N used what little strength she had to lift her hips slightly, bouncing on his tongue as she climaxed. Her legs trembled and she let out a sigh of feigned relief when Jungwoo finally let her go.

Jungwoo made his way back up Y/N’s body, his kisses along his back leaving a goosebump trail.

“I love you.” He whispered in her ear. He meant it. It was probably the first time Jungwoo ever found someone so perfect. He often entertained that whoever is out there looking out for him tailor-made Y/N and put her in his path on purpose.

She whimpered, reaching her hand out when she heard him unbuckling his pants. “Jungwoo, give me a second.”

He caught her hand in his swiftly, bringing it to his lips. “I want to feel you, baby. Can I do that?” He asked, his voice gentle as the morning sun was creeping its way into the room.

She didn’t answer but her hand slowly retracted, finding its way back around the pillow. Jungwoo resumed his actions, his jeans and boxer briefs sliding off his slender body in one hasty motion. He ran one hand over the curve of her ass, the other finally giving him some relief as it stroked his length slightly.

He groaned as he entered her, her cunt sucking him in. He gripped her hips, retracted until just the tip was inside, and fucked her. He took his time stretching her out, indulging in the gummy feeling of her walls.

Y/N gasped, the size of Jungwoo’s cock allowing him to hit that spot deep inside her with ease.

“Play with your nipples for me, baby,” Jungwoo said, hair sticking to his forehead.

Y/N’s fingers found her chest, tweaking the little nub. Her ministrations only added to the pleasure originating from Jungwoo’s thrusts. Her moans filled the room and she felt every vein in his cock as he brought her closer to her high.

“Baby, do you hear that?” Jungwoo asked, but Y/N failed to hear him over the sounds emitting from her own lips.

He reached forward, his fingers wrapping around her neck as he pulled her flush against his chest. Her moans dwindled, reducing to strained whimpers and pants.

“Shh, listen.” He squeezed the sides of her throat. Y/N struggled to focus on whatever sound Jungwoo wanted her to hear.

And then she heard it.

The slick, squelching sounds of skin connecting. The lewdness of his cock thrusting in and out of her sopping wet orifice.

“You hear it, don’t you? The sweet sounds you make.” He kissed the skin behind her ear. “You’re a musician too, baby.”

Y/N’s jaw fell slack as she orgasmed, the sensation of his cock deep inside her and his fingers holding her up by the throat proving to be too much for her. Her body went limp, Jungwoo’s hand being the saving force that held her up. She came to her senses in time to feel his hot load filling her to the brim, ragged pants escaping his lips.

Y/N was caught off guard when his thrusts resumed at a harsher pace than before. She grasped his arm desperately, her moans rising in pitch as her body trembled from oversensitivity.

Jungwoo laughed at her reaction. “Don’t tell me you forgot how long your boyfriend can last, baby.” He pushed her back into the pillow as his hips collided repeatedly with her ass. His fingers reached around her body, finding her clit. Y/N’s body jolted forward, shuffling up the bed before Jungwoo pulled her back, pressing his hand to her back and deepening her arch.

“Don’t run. Stay right here.” He mumbled. “Right here.” His hips stuttered, his thrusts faltering. Y/N’s eyes rolled back, reaching her fourth orgasm of the morning. Her cum slid down her thighs and ruined the sheets. When Jungwoo finally pulled out, her legs flopped onto the bed in fatigue.

“Welcome home, I guess.” She mumbled as Jungwoo kissed her cheek. “You’re excessive, you know.”

He smiled. “I’m sorry. I saw you in my t-shirt and I couldn’t help myself. I’ll let you in on a secret: I was gonna stop after the third, but 3’s an odd number.”

Y/N glared at him to which he laughed.

She tumbled her way out of bed, grabbing her towel on the way out of the room. “I’m going to shower then go back to sleep.”

“Can I join you?”

“Can I beat your ass?”

Jungwoo snorted. “I love youuu!”

Y/N turned on the shower in response.

[sukirichi]

sweet lies (m.)

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. oral (f receiving), fingering, slight body worship, public sex, multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praising, titty sucking, nsfw, toxic megumi, fwb, slight angst, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 and thank you to besties nie and ellie for editing this STOP SHOWING YOUR ANKLES CHIRREN

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Megumi slides your shirt down your shoulder to press kisses on the bare skin. Your head tilted to the side to give him easier access. You hate that you feel so weak around him, your hands gripping his thigh you’re currently straddling, already so breathless from his teasing ministrations. 

“You should move back closer to campus,” he mutters at the juncture of your neck, pulling another soft gasp from you the moment his fingers dip inside your damp underwear. You feel him smile at your skin, using his deft fingers to push two of them inside your sopping hole. He pumps them in slowly, teasingly slow, coaxing your arousal to coat his fingers while you grind against his palm, eyes shut tight from the pulling knot in your stomach.

“It’s hard to fuck you when you’re a half-hour drive away.”

You scoff against him and roll your eyes. “I wonder why I got kicked out from the dorms in the first place.” Exactly two weeks ago, Megumi snuck in drunk and horny into your dorms, shaking you awake to get rid of his boner. 

It was a sloppy quickie, mostly because he’s eaten brownies and got fuck drunk before stumbling beside your bed. The insensitive idiot left his rum bottle under your bed just as he wobbles back to his frat house, and as if things couldn’t get worse, there was a surprise dorm inspection the next day. Not only did they find cum stains all over your sheets, but your bed also reeked of weed and alcohol, resulting in a quick expulsion from the dorms.

If it weren’t for the help of one of your professors, Gojo-sensei, you wouldn’t have been able to find a decent, cheap apartment. It came with the price of rooming with one of his old acquaintances, a muscular, heavily tattooed guy who seemed to be a few years older than you.

He really wasn’t a bad roommate. Other than the fact he seemed really intimidating, the dude mostly kept to himself, either locked in his room or away for work that you don’t really get to see him that much. His place was decent too, your room bigger than the last, so it was a good deal, but as Megumi said, it’s really hard to fuck around when you’re so far away.

“Not my fault, you’re so weak for me, baby,” he taunts as you tighten around him, his pace increasing with his lips sucking love marks on your skin. You can’t help but snicker at his actions; if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was jealous. 

But this was Megumi you were talking about – everyone knew he never got jealous. 

“I don’t like you here.”

“Aw, sucks for you.”

“I’m serious,” he grips your waist tighter, drawing a drawled-out moan from you. Megumi rubs your clit with his thumb and swallows your moans through open-mouthed kisses, your fists balled into his hoodie. Fuck this, you’re completely aware he’ll never like you the way you like him, but it’s so hard to feel sad about that when he’s knuckle deep inside you and playing you like a violin. As much as you hated him and his pretty face, you have to admit his fingers were fucking magical.  

Megumi nips at your lower lip before thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a numbing pace, not taking long until you’re creaming all over his hands. You pant at the orgasm, head falling back into his shoulder. 

He brushes your hair away from your eyes and kisses the side of your head, the gesture way too sweet for someone who insisted on a ‘no-strings attached’ sexual relationship. But you don’t complain – this is like a dream come true for you – allowing him to leave a trail of kisses down your jaw instead, his wet hands squeezing your thighs in a possessive grip.

“You should just live with me. I’m not comfortable with the fact you live with a man.”

There’s a trace of jealousy behind his voice that you’d normally swoon at, but he’s pushing you to the edge and fucking around with your feelings so much that you can’t even enjoy the rare moment. You push yourself off him and reach for your discarded shorts on the floor, sliding the material over your legs while Megumi shamelessly stares at your ass behind you, his head resting on his hands.

“Megs, I barely even talk to the guy; he’s always away at work. You’ve really got nothing to worry about,” you tell him, making quick work of tidying your school packets just to ignore his heated gaze. “Besides, you and I aren’t even dating. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“You never hold back with your words, huh?”

You shot him a look, an angry glare that should be threatening, but the glint in his eyes just tells you he’s enjoying every second of it. “You like it.”

“Hmm, maybe I do,” Megumi tugs you back to the bed, effortlessly, as he flips you under him. In this position, he’s situated right between your bodies, hands clasped against one another. He’s absolutely stunning, bathed in the sliver of the moonlight, in your bed, no less. You’re a flurry of emotions – stuck between wanting to fuck him and kissing him, and then scream at him to let him know he should stop playing with your heart. 

Megumi’s eyes darken as he traces over your silhouette, watching the way your chest falls heavily at his touches. He uses one hand to trace the tip of his finger from your breast down to your clothed core, a smirk painting his lips when you buck your hips up at the contact. 

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. 

“Just promise me you’re not letting others see your pretty pussy okay?” he tugs your shorts to the side, tongue darting out to lick at his lips at the sight of your glistening folds. You’ve lost count of the times he’s made you cum tonight with just his fingers; the raging hard-on hidden behind his sweatpants is proof that he’s quite different today by letting you get fuck-drunk on him first. Perhaps it’s his way of keeping you so helplessly wrapped around his finger, fucking you good enough that no one else comes second to him, and he knows this. He sees this from the desire pooled in your eyes. 

Megumi scoots down lower to stare at your pussy, which is already embarrassing since you’re so wet down there. He simply sighs at your bare cunt before him, using two fingers to pull the lips apart, followed by a groan at the apparent slick. “This is all mine.”

In your lust-filled haze, you scrunch your eyebrows and sneer, “How about you mind your own business?”

“The fuck did you just say?” he chuckled, his warm breath tickling your inner thighs. “You’re mine, babe. Haven’t I fucked you enough to drill in that in your pretty little head?” Megumi doesn’t waste his time diving straight to your eager, awaiting core. Your hands fly down to tug at his hair as you grind your hips to his face, legs weak from his lips wrapped tightly around your clit. “You know I’ll get mad if you touch anyone else.”

“Fuck off, Megumi,” you spat out, “We’ve been fooling around for a year, and you still refuse to date me every time I ask you out officially. Listen, I understand you’re not ready for that kind of relationship, so you could at least respect that you don’t get the exclusivity of keeping me all to yourself.” Truly, this rebellion is so uncalled for and unexpected. The moment you had your eyes on him and made it your life’s mission to win him over, not once had you complained that he never wanted to take things a step further. But it’s been too long, too fucking long, and too many no baby’s already – your pride was beyond crushed. It was about time you set the boundaries this time, and you quiver around his skillful tongue, strong and firm as you rasp, “I’ll fuck whoever I want.”

“You’re lying.”

“What?”

“You love me,” Megumi pulls away from your clit with an audible pop, his face glistening from the smeared juices all over his cheeks. However, his eyes are narrowed, almost as if he’s scrutinizing you. You can’t focus on the fact he denied you of your orgasm because he’s looking at you so seriously, only to tilt his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s written all over your face.”

“Maybe I do, but are you deserving of it?” you push his head away and ignore the aching in your chest. Megumi shuffles close to you, pulling you in for another cuddling session before you hide under the sheets, making it clear you were not to be touched anymore. “Go home, Megs. I’m tired.”

In all honesty, you want him to stay. You want him to fight harder to win your approval back. He’s not a big cuddler, more of the type to pass out beside you after he’s gotten his own orgasm, but you’ve been so sure that maybe he might be different today. Under the sheets, your lip trembles in anticipation, eyes blinking wide at the dark silhouette outside your metaphorical shield. But as Megumi playfully slaps your ass, his warmth leaving the bed, you’re not really surprised. 

He never stayed the night before – why would he do that now? 

Silly girl, you chastised yourself. 

“Fine. But I’ll be back tomorrow,” you hear him scuffle for his shoes outside, a smile evident in his voice as his words float around the silence of your apartment. “Wear my favourite set like a good girl for me?”

“Go away!”

Megumi’s laughter echoes all the way to where you curl yourself into a ball. You hate that his laughter alone makes your heart skip a beat, even if it doesn’t carry any affection behind then. “See you then, baby,” is all he says before the door slams shut, leaving you alone to your thoughts and insecurities all over again.

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

You’ve really hit rock bottom; that’s the only explanation for your actions. Megumi was coming over in a few hours, unsurprising that he chooses 3 AM of all times. Not only did it mean his frat brothers would be asleep, but it also meant that his other side bitches would assume he’s doing the same. You know, of course, you fucking know you’re not the only one, but it didn’t hurt any less.

The pain just keeps getting worse every time you think of him, said thoughts always comprised with your shirt trapped between your teeth and your hands down your pants. There’s no denying you’re addicted to him, though being addicted to a never-ending heartbreak was a different story. 

A story which you’re not ready to find out yet, so you dress up in your sexiest dress and take the nearest cab, heading to a place where you definitely shouldn’t be.

Two more hours before Megumi arrives. Two more hours before you fall into that endless cycle of fucking and him leaving you alone, promising he’ll be back tomorrow, before it all repeats and traces back to square one. He’s not going to stop, and neither are you, so where was any of this supposed to go now? He doesn’t want you, not in that way, that very much is clear – so why was it so hard to let go of him?

Deep down at the back of your mind, you know your answer. It’s because, like the lovesick fool you are, you’re still hoping that maybe someday he’ll look at you the way you look at him.

Fuck it, is all you think of as you flash the bouncer your ID, not missing the way his eyes fall down your tits that are so close to popping out of your dress a minute longer than welcomed. Snatching your card away from him, you push against the crowd, immediately regretting coming here as the loud thumping of music and stench of sex and alcohol washes over your senses. 

You make a beeline for the empty bar, save for the bartender who had his back turned to you as he wipes the glasses over.

You clear your throat to make your presence known. The first thing you see is a broad back, thick lines of dark tattoos outlined even in his white button-up shirt. He places the glasses down and moves expertly before you, sliding shot glasses next to others before procuring a drink out of nowhere, a greeting about to leave his lips when you both make eye contact.

The drink stays still on his hands, blinking for a moment at your equally stupefied face before he says, “It’s you.”

“S-Sukuna,” you greet back, smiling at your roommate. You’ve barely seen the guy the past few weeks other than sleepy good morning’s, and I’ll take the trash out tonight before both of you disappeared into your own worlds. 

Sukuna is...well, you don’t know, exactly. It’s not like he’s around much for you to make a proper judgment of, but he’s a pretty nice roommate, filling up the fridge whenever you guys run out of beer. There were times he nods at you as a greeting before leaving for work, too, leaving you alone at the house from midnight all the way to the morning. Other than thinking your roommate is pretty unique from his face tattoos and roguish handsomeness that contrasts his rather frequent sleepy mumbles, you’ve failed to realize he could actually be like a normal human. Seeing him stand before you, his forearms lined with veins and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, taut waist emphasized by a black vest, you swallow audibly.

He’s entirely different from the guy you often see passed out on the couch, but it’s a welcomed sight, nonetheless.

Sukuna’s actually...pretty hot.

Hiding the thumping of your heart – whether out of nervousness or it’s just trying to match the beat of the music – you beam up at him,  eyes glossed over with curiosity as he reciprocates with a more mischievous grin. 

If he’s easily read your mind that you are indeed attracted to him, he makes no comment about it, focusing on hearing your voice over the music instead. 

He leans over to you, not pulling away even as your lips faintly graze his ear. Fuck, he’s got piercings too. You greedily drink in his masculine scent, thankful that the music thumping is so loud he won’t hear the frenzy mess inside your ribcage. 

“I didn’t know you worked here. Heck, I didn’t know you were a bartender, but I guess the irregular sleep patterns make sense somehow.”

“What did you think I was, sweetheart?”

His deep voice reverberates all the way down to your toes, his throaty chuckle hoarse. “I-I don’t know,” you pull away nervously, blinking up at him way too innocently. “A gangster, to be honest,” you blurted out. Sukuna tilts his head to the side, and you immediately raise your hands beside your head as you mull over how offensive your words might’ve been. “I don’t mean anything offensive by it, I swear! It was just my first impression!”

“First impressions are usually false. Anyway. It’s fine,” he shrugs, resuming his task of wiping over the glasses. 

His hands were so big, his fingers long and slender...your attention is drawn to the adept manner of how he wipes the cloth using the tip of his finger, reaching behind him to get another glass, all without keeping his eyes off of yours. It leaves much room to muse about what else he could do with those hands, and you squirm at your seat, opting to look at his face instead since that would be more polite than eye-fucking his hands.

Sukuna smirks, that cunning twinkle in his eyes matching the dim lights of the bar. Somehow, you suddenly feel so lightheaded. 

“If it makes you feel better, I thought you were a shy girl at first, but your boy toy brings a different side of you every time he comes around.”

You squeak in embarrassment, “You’re home by then?!”

“Only sometimes,” he reassures with a laugh. “But I’ve heard enough,” Right. He’s older and definitely more experienced than your sexual escapades with Megumi – this must be nothing new to him by now, and yet, your skin flushes heated. “Don’t look too flustered, sweetheart. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of that,” he nods at you, “You don’t look very happy with him, though.”

“Tch, now you’re assessing my relationship status?”

“I don’t have to,” he shrugs, the gesture so damn reassured. Chuckling at your apparent frown, Sukuna shakes his head to himself. “It’s written all over your face you’re not satisfied with something. You wouldn’t be here if you were feeling good in the first place.”

“How much have you heard?”

“Oh, I don’t care about how you scream his name. That’s none of my business,” he grumbles under his breath rather bitterly – but that could just be the music messing with you. Sukuna holds your gaze as he sets the final glass down before you, his elbows languidly resting on the counter that separates you both. You’re left staring at him in wonder, watching the way he pours the drink right in front of you, the movement of his lips so intoxicating and even erotic you nearly didn’t hear him say, “But as your roommate, I wish you’d stop inviting him around and just kick him out already. He doesn’t like you, you know.”

He doesn’t like you. Megumi doesn’t like you – you know that already.

Glare deepening at your surprisingly nosy roommate, you take the glass from him and down it in one go. Sukuna’s brows shot up in awe, arms crossed against his puffed-out chest as you slam the glass down. 

You were fuming. 

“You don’t know a single fucking thing about me.”

“That’s right, I don’t,” he answers without skipping a beat, “But we men, we understand each other,” You open your mouth to retort, silenced by Sukuna’s finger pressing against your lips. You freeze at the contact, and Sukuna makes use of your state, continuing right where he left from. 

“Listen, take it from me as free advice. I’ll even put your drink on the house.”

Really, nothing is stopping you from biting off this guy’s finger, but he looks like he knows something you don’t that you just choose to keep your mouth shut.

Satisfied at your decision, Sukuna smiles sweetly, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture puts you under his spell, and he lingers there a little longer, massaging the lobes of your ears before he pulls back just as fast, almost as if he never touched you in the first place.

You fight back the urge to huff. 

Why were men so complicated? One moment, they were hot, then cold the next. You would just never get it.

“That guy you’ve been mooning over for who knows how long? He doesn’t give a fuck about you. You’re just someone who warms his cock every now and then, but I guarantee he’s thinking about someone else in his head when he’s with you,” he announces straightforwardly, not giving you the time to recover before he shrugs like his words didn’t just slap you in the face. “Just call quits on him, sweetheart. There’s really no need to waste such a pretty face. Ever heard of the saying – there’s plenty of fish in the sea?” he pushes another drink to you, “Drink up and loosen a little. With a face and body like that, you’ll find someone better soon.”

“I highly doubt I can find someone better when all everyone sees is my appearance.”

“I don’t,” he hinted with dark eyes, “But I assure you it might be what people see first. You do have a face of an angel; men are into that shit.”

Taking the drink from him with a loud sigh, you feel yourself weaken. You bury your head in your hands, replaying all the memories you’ve had with Megumi. It’s foreseeable that almost all of them consisted of you two fucking, nothing but a faint memory of two where Megumi actually cared enough to perform aftercare. The thought makes you wince; he really is an ass, but you’re also so hopelessly infatuated with him that you refuse to acknowledge the truth.

“Megs and I...we’re just complicated, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I swear!” your defenses are hopelessSukuna’s knowing smirk, the man holding back a snigger from your silent rage. “Besides, maybe his disinterested nature is what made me attracted to him in the first place. I like the mystery. It’s not bad for a girl to enjoy searching for answers every now and then.”

“Except he’s already given you a concrete no, and you’re the only one still hanging onto him,” he reminds you. At your dropped jaw, Sukuna has the audacity to wink. That motherfucker –“Pressed a button, kitten?” he pats your head, leaving you to be even more riled up. “Don’t be sad. It’s not like he’s the only guy who can make you feel good.” As if a light bulb went up in his head, Sukuna hid his smile by turning his back to you, pretending to be engrossed in the drinks all laid out in front of him. But even with his face obscured from your view, his words rang thick and clear: “In fact, I bet you your cute ass someone else can change your former perspective on what pleasure really is.”

“Yeah, like who?” you snorted sarcastically, “You?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he faces you, absolutely shameless as he eyes your cleavage. Sukuna clenches his jaw at the tempting view before him, sliding his gaze back to yours to look for the answers in your face. “If you want a demonstration, that is.”

Sukuna hasn’t really touched you or even spoke explicitly, but you’re breathing hard anyways, subconsciously clawing the countertop. 

You don’t know if it’s your voice or his that’s ringing your ears, the words what’s holding you back? the last thing you hear before grabbing him by the collar, leaning over the counter to taste his lips. Sukuna smiles at the kiss, his large hands cupping your face in them. His thumb traces circles over your jaw as you greedily suck on his lip, uncaring that you’re making out with your roommate in a public place.

As if remembering that he’s still at work, Sukuna pulls away for a moment, diving in for one last peck that has you giggling adorably. Sukuna’s grin grows wider at your flushed cheeks, snapping his fingers at someone from a distance. “Geto, break!” 

The guy who must be Geto popped his head out of the backroom, frowning at Sukuna’s words when his gaze lands on you and the not-so-subtle needy grip you have on Sukuna’s collar. His mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape before he gives a thumb up, disappearing afterward. 

That’s all Sukuna needs before he’s leaving the counter, breathing in your panicked squeals as he picks you up, your legs flailing to wrap around his.

You’re giggling and laughing all the way to the back of the club, your hands tugging at his undercut and his own squeezing at your ass. Sukuna kicks the door of the restroom open, which is thankfully clean (you made the right choice choosing a luxurious club), settles you down before him, and locking the stall.

His lips are on yours in an instant, his hands tugging off your dress and scowling at it as if it’s offensive. “Calm down,” you tease him, “They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“They were a fucking tease the whole night,” he glares at the lacy cups of your bra, his breathing laboured as he cups them. You throw your head back until it thumps at the door, teeth muffling the moans that threaten to erupt. Sukuna unclasps the material in one swift movement, surprising with just how many times he’s done this before. “Fucking gorgeous tits – why the fuck does your boy toy not want to keep you to himself?”

“He’s – oh fuck,” you scrape Sukuna’s scalp, his tongue wrapping around the swollen bud. He caresses the other one not to leave it unattended, and he’s grinding you against the door so hard, his dick poking at your dress leaving very little to the imagination. 

Sukuna chuckles at your broken response, rutting his hips in such a sensual manner you didn’t think he was capable of. “You were saying?”

You glare at him from under your chin, but he can’t take you seriously while he’s sucking at your tit like a child. This man is brave enough to nip it with his teeth, the sting making you hiss and buck against him. “He’s possessive,” you breathe through your mouth, a little in disbelief you’re casually thinking about him while Sukuna gets down on his knees. “He wants me to be exclusive with him, but he’s free to fuck who he pleases.”

Sukuna rubs both palms in front of his face as if preparing to devour a meal, which he’ll do so soon enough. He pushes your dress and bunches it at your waist, tugging your underwear to the side before he groans. The sound is so deep and masculine, so utterly frustrated for some reason you can’t understand.

“Now that’s unfair,” he mumbles absentmindedly, peppering your pelvis with kisses. The feverish touch of his warm lips on your already burning skin has you clutching at the door, feeling your legs weaken.

His eagerness and distrait acts of body worship drive you crazy. Megumi is good at making you feel desired and fuckable – that much you know from his habits of pushing his pants down at pretty much anywhere as long as you were around, claiming you’re a walking ‘boner trigger.’ Sukuna, on the other hand, was a lot more patient and attentive to his movements, taking the time to make you feel you were more than just a body and a hole. It’s odd, hella fucking odd, because this man is older than you and a friend of your professors, but did you care? No. Did you want him to fuck your brains out in a public restroom? Fuck yes.

A wanton moan paints the wall as Sukuna slides your thong off just above your knee, his eyes closed as he buries his cheek in it. You look down with wide eyes, hands grabbing at nothing and everything at the same time. From the looks of it, he’s sniffing your sex, the sight so outright erotic that you only moan louder.

How was it possible to be this much turned on?

By the time he’s opened his eyes, his entire demeanour’s shifted. Gone was the enthusiastic and sly bartender, now replaced with a much more animalistic entity residing beside it. 

Before you could make yourself comfortable, Sukuna hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, the tip of your heel grazed against the tight walls of the stall. He licks a flat stripe from your hole that clenches around nothing, moving upwards in such a passionate, languid manner he’s making you forget you’re literally in a fucking restroom. Your breasts heave up and down from how you’re struggling to breathe, his tongue pushing past through the tight ring of resistance until he’s plunged through your core. You wobble above him, remaining upright only by his arm pushing your back flat on your under boob.

Sukuna slurps at your cunt yearningly, the hums he gives every now and then, making your core vibrate. You grind your pussy on his face, the black marks lined on his face glistening.

He moves to suck at your clit, transitioning after each beat to slurping the swollen bud and kissing your lips as if he was making out with it. You’re sure you’re making a mess on his face, but he doesn’t give you time to feel embarrassed about it. He spreads your legs further until your muscles ache from the stretch, the pain accompanied by your stomach tightening.

“S-Sukuna, oh, oh yeah,” you bang your fist on the door, his smug chuckles sending you over the edge. Your pupils blow wide as you feel the impending orgasm weigh down on you heavily, about to send you into overdrive by his tongue swiping at your lips, teasing you to give it to him more, give it to him harder. Turning your head down to warn him you’re coming, the words die on your throat because he’s already looking at you, his cheeks and nose smothered with your shining slick, and the brat is smirking. “Shit, you’re a little—” Sukuna cuts you off by generously sucking your clit one more time, pulling the muscle taut just to show you that it’s rolling between his lips. It looks fucking insane and filthy that you come right there and then. 

Your orgasm is so strong that you actually slip from your heels. A scream from you is knocked back into you just as fast, Sukuna moving quick and graceful in one fluid movement. He catches your leg and shoves you against the door, gripping at your hips until you’re bending forward, ass perked, and wiggling just for him.

For a split second, you’re sure you hear the unbuckling of a belt, but it all fades in your clouded mind.

Sukuna enters you in one thrust, the sensation of being filled up so soon rendering you speechless. Literally absolutely silent, palms flat on the door and tongue lolled out, all the burning in your body focused on your centre.

He releases a grunt at finally being inside your plush, warm walls. Sukuna allows you to get used to his length for a solid minute, both of you catching your breath in the meantime. Your tits are sprawled out, and you’re a shaky mess, feeling nothing less of dirty yet so aroused that you can’t do anything about it. Sukuna thrusts in slowly at first, and that’s when you feel the size difference between him and Megumi. Megs was definitely blessed in the dick department, and he’s always been so cocky about it, but goddamn, Sukuna was beyond huge.

You think you could cum again just from him filling you up. He was stretching you out so well that he leaves behind a faint burn, making you feel as if it’s your first time all over again – all for the good reasons.

He soon begins to set his pace, one of his hands tugging at your ponytail so he could see your glossy eyes and mouth hanging open. Sukuna scoffs at your fucked out state, too cock-hungry even to form coherent sentences. His length is slipping past your folds in such a tantalizing, delicious state, the prominent veins of his cock kissing the bumpy ridges of your walls. He was right – you’re definitely changing your perspective on pleasure because you don’t think you’ve felt this good in your life. 

With Megumi, it was mostly always about his own release. With Sukuna, he’s making sure you get to feel inch by luscious inch slipping out of you before he slides them back in, his deep moans the dirtiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Aw, look at you,” he coos, kissing you sideways sloppily. Sukuna reaches the edges of your lips but licks at your skin anyway. His canines revealed to graze at your skin. It’s so animalistic, so carnal, and he’s fucking you with such primal need that you forget everything you once knew about sex. “Your pretty pussy is drooling for cock, sweetheart. Such a dirty little thing, taking me like this.”

Now, this was lust as its purest form, the rhythm of his hips so sinful you’ve lost faith in everything but how he’s making you feel. 

The walls are pounding with the bass boosting outside, but soon even the loud volume of the synthesized music is drowned by your whimpers. Sukuna lets go of your hair to place his hands on your hips. If he was dominant before, he only encourages you to scream his name louder, realizing that he was still being nice seconds ago, but now he’s the one controlling you. 

He pounds roughly into you until you’re crying, your drool dribbling from your lips and small patches dropping to the floor. It’s the same with your cunt. You’re so wet that you can feel squirts of cum staining his pants and your legs. Sukuna doesn’t stop praising you on how you’re so perfect, how your cunt is the tightest he’s ever fucked, and now he gets why your boy toy could never really let you go. In the middle of it all, he manages to slip in a comment that maybe Megumi’s dick isn’t big enough to stretch you out because you’re wrapped around him like a vice, to which you respond that he’s just massive.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” he agrees cockily, eyes narrowed at where his length kept being swallowed by your pussy. “I’m fucking destroying you, sweetheart. You’ll be broken by the end of this, fuck.”

His words are like ambrosia you’re getting drunk on, the filthiness of his mouth fuelling your desire. Your body heats up at the same time that familiar tingling tightens in your stomach, and you blindly stretch your arm out behind him. Sukuna easily reads your mind and takes your hand, looping his fingers with yours. His palm is right above your knuckle, and the angle hurts your arm so bad you cry harder.

“Please, please, please,” you beg him and snap your hips back to meet his dick thrust by thrust, “I’m so fucking close, please—”

“I got you, sweetheart,” he leans down for a quick peck at your hand, increasing his pace as he twitches inside you. Sukuna is thrown off rhythm by the way you grip down on his dick harder, his breath stuttering as a result. You wrap your fingers around him as your second orgasm that night crashes down onto you in waves, his cock on the brink of being spent from how you’re milking him. 

He pounds deep and slow into you, relishing in the warmth of your cunt that he’s losing his mind, basically in the same state as you are now. You’re panting and sweating, cursing at each thrust, and he stills for a moment, pulling out so fast that you wince at the emptiness. Sukuna pumps his dick with his free hand and shoots his load onto your back, his moans guttural and hoarse. You grimace at the warm cum now coating your back because there’s no way you’re using your dress to wipe that away. 

Sukuna chuckles at your silence, probably noting in the way you frown at him. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he runs a hand through his hair, his cock growing hard despite releasing a huge load. “Next time, I’ll cum in your mouth. I want to see you swallow me like a good girl.”

“Next time?” 

You think you’re so sly by scoffing at him, but Sukuna isn’t stupid. He sees the way you light up at his implications, and he walks closer to you, a hand wrapped around your throat before you pull you flush against his chest. You gasp at the lack of air, blindly patting behind you, but your hand only grazes at his cock, which twitches excitedly at the contact.

“Yeah, next time,” he affirms with a low growl, licking from your jaw down to your neck. It’s so hot, he’s so hot, and you’ve never felt this sexy in your life that you soon become on par with him, pussy clenching around nothing. “I’m not done with you yet. You’re not leaving unless I’ve changed your mind,” he teases the base of your throat to squeeze it tighter, the swift movement of him filling you once more escalating to a tenfold. Your struggle to breathe causes you to clamp down on him hard and Sukuna’s chuckles falter into a quick inhale that’s so satisfying to witness. “What do you think? Still need more demonstrations?”

“Yes,” you choke out. Sukuna’s victorious and award-winning smile is hidden at the sweaty column of your neck where he leaves little kisses in its wake, ones that soon turn into something of a harsh bite. “Yes, please, show me more. Need you, need you so bad, you fuck me better than he does.”

Sukuna does more than show you that night. He makes you feel a thousand more nerves set on fire until you’re nothing but a moaning mess. After all, what better way to change someone’s mind than to mess with it on the inside?

In the end, when it comes down to it, your lies were way too sweet – and he was too addicted to make you stop.