#i know its just playing a game but it really feels weird that hes letting me kill him ... throw some punches lover... dont just lie there

[ghostgirl-22]

ok but imagine art and patrick at a frat party.. patrick’s already hyper aware of his bisexuality and feelings for art, arts still repressed as hell. theyre drunk, some guy starts flirting with patrick, art is clearly jealous but doesnt know what this feeling is (“am i homophobic? why do i care so much?” etc). patrick notices this and leans into it, starts flirting back w the guy, fucks him in the bathroom or w/e, finally explores his bisexuality. art feels CRAZY after this, finally notices hes so jealous and wanted to be this guy so bad.. crazy sexual tension ensues. idk if this is too specific but i see it so clearly….

I have been excited for this prompt forever. Idk if you’re still around the fandom anon after all this time 😭 but ily and this prompt <33 I didn’t do it justice but I had fun and so did my Colorado native heart.

CW: 18+ NSFW, never proofreading is the standard, Art is manipulative and kind of an asshole here but it’s just because he’s a fucking terror when he’s in love 😔

—-

It’s the middle of February and Patrick’s not in Palo Alto but he’s still at a Stanford event. “It’s this annual ski trip so many different frats and athletes go. Anyone who’s anyone will be there.” Art explains. “Tashi was supposed to go with me but you know… the girls won the final.” 

Patrick knows all about that. Tashi’s playing in Austrailia. Her family made it a whole trip and she’s got another Adidas photoshoot that’ll be showing exclusively over there. In pro tennis the American season is still on hiatus, he can’t really afford to call  Austrailia every night and he’s kinda bored so that’s how he ended up in Colorado for the weekend. 

He’s on the slopes with Art and his tennis friends in the daytime but that night Stanford takes over the lodge and there’s this epic pool party. The pools are heated, there’s two hot tubs. Tons of pizza in the lobby and drinks outside. There’s even a DJ it’s like a full on frat party in the mountains. Everyone’s staying in the resort, kids are making out, hooking up, trying to hide more elicit substances like weed and ecstasy from the so called “adult” chaperones. It makes Patrick kinda wish he would’ve enrolled.  

He’s lifting himself out of the pool, sitting up on the edge, half drunk when it happens. The cold air feels so nice on his heated skin. He thinks its an accident at first when this guy nudges his knee. Patrick smiles at him, just to show it’s no big deal. He grins back. He’s cute, pale blue eyes, dyed black hair, a lip ring. He’s skinny, a couple tattoos. He looks a little like the guy from Blink 182 Patrick touched himself for when that what’s my age again video came out. 

He knows it by now. What he only suspected when he was younger. That he’s bicurious. 

If getting weird feelings about Robin in that Batman and Robin cartoon when he was a kid wasn’t enough.  Then spending 6 years developing the most delicious masochistic crush on his roommate that culminated in a kiss he can’t stop thinking about definitely did the trick. Pretty boy is chewing on his lip ring, smiling up at Patrick and checking him out. And yeah, Patrick definitely likes boys. 

He’s had a little experience. Some kissing, heavy petting, dry humping another player  in the back of his jeep after a bad day on tour. Made him feel better. He hasn’t really told Tashi… he doesn’t think of it as cheating. It’s something he can’t really get from her anyway.  

“Dude, hurry, lets get some more drinks,” Art sits up next to him on the pools ledge, he’s all tipsy, wet and flushed. He looks so goddamn good right now. It's actually a cosmic joke.  Pretty boy frowns and Patrick shakes his head just the slightest bit, hoping he understands that there’s nothing going on between them. 

“Come on, man,” Art says as he gets to his feet. “I’m already cold.” They were in the middle of a game of pool volleyball. It’s enough like tennis that they’re kinda good at it. And Art’s been flirty with this tall girl, Porsha from the girls volleyball team all night. Which is probably why he’s actually in a hurry, to get a drink back to her.

Patrick figures maybe pretty boy wants a drink. They pad along the cold ground to the drinks table. It’s cold enough outside that nothing really has to be chilled, it’s nice and cold just sitting out on the table. As Patrick scoops up another beer, pretty boy approaches him. 

“Hey,” he smiles. 

Patrick smiles back. “You want one?” He holds up the can he was gonna bring over.  

“Thanks, but I’m actually straight edge.” 

“Oh,” Patrick says, not overly familiar with the term but he thinks it’s hot all the same. 

Pretty boy looks over Patrick’s body, still checking him out. “Are you a freshman? I feel like I’ve never seen you before?” 

“I don’t go here, my buddy Art does,” Patrick gestures. 

“Hey,” Art says lightly, and then looks back at Patrick. “Come on Pat it’s fucking cold.”

”Guess you gotta go Pat,” pretty boy smirks, stepping closer.  

“Patrick,” Patrick says, “he’s the only one that…yeah…” 

“Got it,” pretty boy reaches up to finger the small gold Star of David necklace Patrick’s grandfather gave him that Patrick usually forgets he’s wearing. 

“What’s your name?” Patrick asks. 

“Julian.” He rakes his hand down the front of Patrick’s chest. “your body’s kind of incredible.” 

“Okay… cool man,” Art is still lingering, and Patrick can’t believe he almost forgot about him. Art’s eyes are narrowed in Julians direction. “Aren’t you in the student government or something?” He demands.  

“Not by choice, I’m just a genius at math and my friend is VP so they made me assistant treasurer,”  his eyes haven’t left Patrick’s body. “You want to go inside for a little bit and you know… hang out?”

Patrick’s been kinda horny all night. He’s horny and curious and Julian is really fucking hot so he shrugs. “Yeah.” 

“What? Seriously?” Art asks.

“Look I’m getting tired man.” Patrick lies. “But you have fun, I’ll see you… tomorrow.” He glances at Julian and he grins.  

“You really think I have a shot with Porsha?” Art says, scratching his head.

“I dunno but you’ll have the room to yourself either way,” Patrick smirks.  

Art’s eyes go wide. He looks again at Julian like it’s just now dawning on him what’s happening.

“Uh…” he steps back and stumbles a bit bumping into someone else that steadies him as he comes up to the table and steals a couple beers before hurrying back to the hot tub. 

“Right, later man,” Patrick says, amused by the way Art seems to be glitching out. Patrick still can’t believe after all this time that Art doesn’t know… but whatever he’ll live. At least until tomorrow when they can talk about it.  Patrick starts walking over to grab his towel and his things. 

“Wait I’m— I’m tired too,” Art says, following him. Patrick raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t argue when Art decides to accompany them back to the lodge. Walking in between them. “Maybe we should go back to the room and call Tashi. It’s probably 12 in the afternoon there.” He says when they get inside. “Tashi’s his girlfriend by the way,” Art adds to Julian. He can be a total dick when he wants to be actually.  

“Tashi Duncan?” Julian asks. 

“Yeah… I mean… yes. She’s technically my girlfriend.” Patrick says, glaring at Art. He looks triumphant like he’s ready to see Patrick try and dig himself out of it. 

“Technically,” Julian smirks. “Why do all straight boys have technical girlfriends, and fiancées and wives.” 

 “I dunno… maybe I’m not technically straight,” Patrick says. 

Art makes a strangled sound which Patrick ignores. 

“I figured.” 

“How’d you know?” 

“I was watching you,” Julian says, glancing quickly at Art before looking back to Patrick. 

“Right,” Patrick mutters, feeling a bit pathetic about the fact that it’s this obvious to everyone but Art. 

“Yeah I’ll probably have to call her or something tomorrow… let her know I’m bisexual.” Patrick says, dryly. 

Art laughs. “No way, Pat. One kiss doesn’t make us fucking bisexual.” He’s gone quite red and he looks irritated. “We kissed a couple months ago by the way. Me and him.” He blurts to Julian. 

It’s not like Art to bring that up at all. Much less in front of another person unprovoked. Tashi would sooner bring it up just to watch him turn into a cherry, then Art just outright admitting it. If Patrick didn’t know better he’d call it jealousy. 

“I agree, Donaldson right? You’re a tennis player?”   

“Yeah and it’s…Art,” Art says, coolly. 

“Well that’s… a name. I guess you should thank god you’re pretty.” 

“I—I thank god all the time actually,” Art says, a silly counter for an unnecessary but amusing fight Art is trying to pick. 

“Well that’s great man, and he’s right… one kiss doesn’t necessarily make you bisexual… but you know… we can do more than kiss.” Julian places his palm on Patrick’s bare tummy. 

“Patrick that’s…that’s not a good idea! you’re gonna end up losing Tashi. I— I want to help you but I can’t if you’re gonna cheat on her. Just come back to the room with me. I won’t even tell her or anything.” He’s fucking jealous. God. Patrick wants to laugh. This is incredible.

“Okay fine, I’m coming. Can you take this?” He hands Art his wallet  which has been useless all night since everything was paid for by the student event association or whatever and his unopened can of beer. He keeps his phone, his room key and his towel. “I’ll be up there in five minutes.” 

Art lingers a little longer.

”dude go, I’m coming I promise.” 

It’s a promise he totally keeps. In the bedroom where they don’t even make it to the bed… he comes. Julian has lube and condoms in his backpack. They’re making out in the elevator, in the hallway. and before they’re two steps into Julian's bedroom he’s pressed up against Patrick. Teasing fingers inside. Rolling a condom on and slathering it in so much lube. pressing into Patrick, slowly at first. it feels so big and achy and intense. And then Patrick’s guiding it towards his prostate. The angle where he fingers himself sometimes when he wants to come so hard he blacks out. It’s even better with a fully hard dick inside. Better with Julian’s teasing words in his ear. 

“I know a yearner when I see one. You wish I was that silly little blonde twink so fucking bad, don’t you. Imagine him fucking you like this. Filling you up till you’re incoherent. Filling every hole you have. Fucking you so deep you can’t feel anything else but the thick hard ache of it.” 

“Mm fuck, yes,” Patrick can’t help it. It feels like he’s seeing god over and over. Every thrust, every word taking him to new heights. It’s barely any time at all before he’s unloading all over the bedroom door breathless and moaning. Then they’re making out again on the floor, Patrick crawling all over Julian before a second round and a third. His first time, and this is so hot. He feels so good he almost falls asleep in there but when he picks up his phone to glance at it there’s like 20 missed calls and text messages.

Oh Art is sick.

Patrick barely gathers himself together and makes his way back to their room. It’s almost 2 in the morning but Art is awake watching tv. He’s finished another 2 beers. His eyes are a little red. His cheeks, a little streaky. He’s still in his swim trunks and his hair is nearly dried, his curls all messy. god Patrick can feel the blood rushing immediately right back into his dick. 

Art glares at Patrick and then does a dramatic flop onto his pillow, turning his back to him. 

“Oh come on,” Patrick says, laughing. 

“What the fuck is so funny?” Art mutters. 

“You.” Patrick approaches his bed and knees into it. 

“You know you just cheated on the greatest girl ever right? Cheating on Tashi for some gay loser emo with a star tattoo.”

”It was a starfish, I saw it… up close…for like 2 hours,” Patrick smirks. 

“Well aren’t you fucking special. I’m sure your mom will be proud.” 

“Why? did you call her?” Patrick snorts as he collapses onto the bed next to him. He stops himself, as always, from rubbing Arts' ridiculously perky ass.

“I fucking should,” Art sits up and renews his glare. “What if he had an std? Then you bring it back to Tashi?”

”we used a condom. And i don’t remember you giving this much of a shit when I cheated on my high school girlfriends.” 

“It’s Tashi man, you would really fucking do this to her?” 

“And you’d really fucking cry about it?” Patrick reaches up, brushing a knuckle along his soft cheek. Art shoves him off. “You should be giddy that I couldn’t stop myself. I’m surprised you didn’t call her.” 

“I did,” Art mutters. 

“Ah. So you are still an asshole, I was worried.” 

“She doesn’t even fucking care man.” Art mutters defeated. “She basically said why am I telling her about it if you need a dick and she doesn’t have one. and while she’s in  Australia of all places."

Patrick chuckles for the way he and Tashi had a similar thought process and for Arts dumb jealous meddling not getting him the result he hoped for. 

“Your mom would be upset though,” Art says, he sounds hopeful. 

“God, Art. What is the big fucking deal? Why do you want someone to be mad at me because I fucked a guy? Are you homophobic or something?”

“What? What?! No.” He says quickly. “Im not fucking homophobic dude. I… you know my cousin is a lesbian and… and I could care less.” He’s turning red. “I’m not um… I’m definitely not a homophobe. That’s not fair.” 

”Well then, what is the real problem? Is it that I wanted to get fucked? Is it because I wanted to feel some hot boys’ hard dick in my ass fucking into me over and over?” He says explicitly just to watch Art squirm. And boy is he squirming. He can’t sit still, can’t look at Patrick. Hes got his hands shoved in his lap, between his crossed legs, his face all twisted up. 

“That’s… that’s…not my… you shouldn’t be… you shouldn’t be just…” he stammers out but he just can’t… finish.  

“Art? Come on, what is it?” Patrick prods, a little softer now. “Tell me. Is it Julian?” Giving him an out. 

Art nods his head, grasping at the new reason to tell Patrick why he shouldn’t. “Yes actually. I mean, you don’t know anything about him. He’s got all those tattoos for all you know he could be a… he could be violent or something. Plus I heard he's a loser… you wouldn’t know because you don’t go here but someone told me he sucks. I mean… he’s lame. And he’s not even that good looking or anything… you could at least find an athlete  or like someone on a sports team or—” 

Patrick rolls his eyes. “You’re fucking ridiculous. You know that, right?” He mutters sitting up and leaning in close. “How about next time… if you don’t want another boy to fuck me… you just fuck me yourself.”  

The way Art’s expression changes so quickly to one of exaggerated shock and incredulity is actually amusing. “W-what?” He says, his Adams Apple bobbing.

“You heard me, you little shit,” Patrick smirks, leaning in closer. Art’s little tongue flits across his bottom lip, his eyes dart down to Patrick’s mouth then back up again.

”I don’t… I’m not…” he stammers, but Patrick grips his chin and he’s immediately pliable. Let’s Patrick pull him closer, till he’s leaning in near Patrick’s open mouth. Art licks a hesitant stripe across Patrick’s lips and then the flood gates open. He’s kissing Patrick, open mouthed, heated wet tongue slipping in and out and all around. Everywhere as he moans. If Patrick was seeing god before he’s pretty sure he probably is god at this point for how fucking incredible this feels. 

Patrick reaches into his lap. He’s as hard as he can possibly be. Of course he is. All this drama and all he really had to say was don’t go with him, fuck me instead. The most ridiculous person Patrick knows.  

He’s up on his knees, grabbing at Patrick’s face, then his body. Kisses so wet and eager that Patrick feels dizzy. Patrick settles onto his back, on the pillow, let’s Art fall on top of him, arms on either side of Patrick’s body, hips between Patrick’s thighs, he starts grinding up against Patrick’s ass, against his cock and balls, humping him like he’s humping into a pillow.

“Mm you should fuck me,” Patrick hums into Arts mouth. “I wanna lose my virginity again.”  He grins. He’s still wet for how much lube Julian used to fuck him loose and slippery. God getting fucked by two different boys on the same night he first loses it for a boy. This’ll be a story for his grand kids. 

“Fuck,” Art whines loudly before kissing Patrick again. “You should have just fucking…never let that loser… he shouldn’t get to…” Art’s all shaky, there’s this bright light in his eyes. Like he’s worked himself up into a frenzy.  “I can fuck you so much better than him.”  He starts grabbing at Patrick’s swim trunks. Tugging them down.  

“I can fuck you better. Fuck him.” He breathes, as he grabs at Patrick’s dick with his shaky hands and swallows. Every touch between them feels electric, Patrick’s tingling all over, in a way he wasn’t earlier. It’s actually crazy. Art is holding his dick, he slaps it against Patrick’s tummy and bends over to lick at the length. His perfectly pink tongue licking heated stripes all up and down and along his balls. over and over again. Sloppy and messy and so wet. Spit everywhere. Just when Patrick thinks he’s gonna come by this alone. Art huffs, his heated breath ghosting along Patrick’s dick, along his upper thighs. “I can fuck you so much better.” 

He sits up on his knees again and pulls his own dick out. His pretty perfect dick. Been perfect ever since Patrick first saw it. It was even more perfect  the last time he saw it.  When they jerked it simultaneously the last month of high school. Talking about Tashi. Not mentioning the kiss but the memory of it vivid in Patrick’s mind as Art was breathing heavy and ragged right next to him making him come so much faster.       

“You can fuck me. I’m wet already, baby,” Patrick whispers. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t wait for you but I’m really fucking wet for you.” 

“Fuck you,” Art looks more determined now. His eyes filling with water and it’s probably so fucked up, but watching him tear up makes Patrick’s cock twitch, even more eager to come again.

Art pushes himself inside and god, Patrick feels his body light up. Energy nearly as overwhelming as the night they kissed with Tashi. He couldn’t really compare anything to what it feels like to fuck Tashi before now.  Art sniffling and teary eyed and fucking into his prostate. Slamming into it. Feels just as fucking good. 

“You’re fucking mine, he doesn’t get to have you ever again, fuck you your mine,” Art is flushed so pretty, the way he looked in the heated pool. “Mine,” Art keeps muttering as he thrusts his hips over and over and over again. Patrick is seeing stars, nearly blacking out for every punctuation of the word. 

“Fuck yes,” Patrick groans loudly as he’s getting close. “I’m all fucking yours baby. Fuck it all out of me. Make me yours forever.”

“Fuck Patrick I’m gonna—“ 

“Mm shit… come on… you can do more. Keep fucking me with that perfect dick, pretty boy. Fucking fill me up.”

”Patrick…” Art whines. “Oh Patrick…Patrick… oh fuck… I’m sorry….fuck nnngh…” 

Heated liquid is filling Patrick up, making him even more of a mess as Art collapses into his arms. “Oh fuck,” Art starts properly crying. “I couldn’t even fucking…” he groans as he slips out. 

God, Patrick wishes he wasn’t so fucking hard right now. All he can think about is Art’s soft red cheeks, wet eyes and clumped lashes, wet face, wet mouth. Wet all over and Patrick almost feels guilty for how badly he wants him to cry more. 

“It’s okay… shh… ‘t’s okay. I’m gonna get you hard again,” Patrick whispers. 

“Really?” art sniffles. 

“Mmhm, come on… it’s gonna be fucking easy.” Patrick says lightly. He kisses Art’s wet cheek, tasting salty tears on his lips. and Art turns into it… taking Patrick’s mouth again, between sniffles. It’s easy really. Art is so easy— when Patrick can get him to be honest with himself. Fucking dream come true. 

[dirt-str1der]

Holding my boyfriend down in the dirt while its raining and dripping rain water off my hair and into his eyes and mouth while making him say over and over please dont kill me please dont kill me

[sigilslvt]

JEALOUSY • DRABBLE

☣︎ Summary: The men all have their reasons for getting jealous around you. But how exactly do they react when they feel the threat is much more real? SURELY, they’re rational, right?

Includes: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami

Tags: fem! reader, friends to lovers, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, teasing, bulging, pussy eating, choking, breeding, praise, overstim, possessiveness, threatened gun violence, toxic possessiveness, car sex, dry humping, rough sex, squirting, pining, premature ejaculation, love bombing, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, true form sukuna, slight angst

WC: 13.1k

A/N: I cackled writing Choso’s, my poor baby is too precious 😩💜

༒︎ Gojo Satoru ༒︎

You pull into the gas station because, once again, your car is on its last leg. Satoru’s been absolutely useless this entire car ride, lounging like some kind of overgrown housecat, sunglasses crooked on his nose, humming the most obnoxious song he can think of just to get under your skin. His long legs are kicked up on your dashboard like he’s king of the world.

“Finally, a pit stop,” he says, stretching dramatically. “I was starting to think you’d just run us out of gas for fun. You know, to create a bonding moment.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, putting the car in park. “Stay in the car. Not that I have to tell you that.”

He snickers, not even looking up from whatever weird little game he’s playing on his phone. “Sure thing, sugar. Let me know if you need me to heroically pump the gas for you. I’ll try not to make it look too easy.”

You ignore him because giving him attention only makes it worse. You grab your wallet and step out, the cold air biting at your face as you swipe your card and get ready to fill the tank as quickly as possible so you can return to the cocoon of warmth that is your car. You’re in your own little zone, minding your business, when a voice breaks through the quiet.

“Hey there! Need some help?”

You glance up, startled, and see a guy walking over. He’s got that effortless, small-town-boy charm, the kind of guy who probably calls everyone “ma’am” and knows how to fix a tractor. He’s smiling, too— a little too widely, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s taking the pump right out of your hands.

“Oh, I had it,” you say, trying to be polite, but this guy is already on a roll.

“Nah, no worries,” he says, grinning. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t have to pump their own gas. It’s just not right.”

You blink at him, caught somewhere between confusion and being impressed, because— wow. Is this really happening?

You glance back at your car, hoping Gojo hasn’t noticed, but as soon as your eyes land on his, you know you’re doomed. He’s sitting up now, sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, staring at you both like he’s just been served the juiciest gossip of the year. His grin is growing and you’re sure he’s ready to put on a show.

Before you can stop him, he throws open the car door and steps out like he’s been summoned to the stage. He stretches unnecessarily— arms up, head tilted back, like he’s on the cover of a sports magazine— and then saunters over, hands in his pockets, looking way too pleased with himself.

The gas station guy looks up, noticing Gojo for the first time. His smile falters just a little. “Oh, uh… hey. Didn’t realize you had someone with you.”

Satoru’s already grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he says, waving a hand. “I’m just her boyfriend. You know, the adoring, perfect, doting one who pumps her gas all the time.”

You groan. “Toru—”

“What? I’m just saying, it’s cute that you’re trying to help, bud,” he says, turning back to the guy with a grin so wide it’s almost terrifying. “But this is kind of my thing. I know she’s just the sweetest, but she’s taken.You get it, right? Yeah, you get it.”

The poor guy blinks, clearly unsure if Satoru’s joking or about to start something. “Uh, yeah, no problem,” he mutters, handing the pump back to you like it’s radioactive. “You two have a good day.”

“Oh, we will!” Gojo chirps, giving him a little salute. “And hey, nice try, man. Better luck next time.”

The guy doesn’t even look back. He practically sprints back to the safety of the gas station, and as soon as he’s gone, you turn to Toru, crossing your arms and pursing your lips in annoyance.

“What the hell was that?”

“What was what?” he asks, feigning innocence as he leans casually against the car. “I was just making sure no one stole my job. You know how much I love pumping your gas.”

You gape at him. “You’ve never pumped gas in your life!”

“Exactly,” he says smugly. “That’s what makes this moment so special. It’s a sacred duty.”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “You’re so insufferable.”

“And yet,” he says, draping an arm around your shoulders, “you love me. Isn’t that wild?”

“Whatever. I’m gonna get a snack. Want something?” you roll your eyes and start walking toward the station.

“I’ll come with, I’m craving something sweet.” he smirks with a look in his eyes that you can’t quite discern.

You raise a brow and walk with him, entering the gas station with the goal to grab a bag of chips and water, but the second you head for them, your hand is being trapped by Satoru’s and he’s tugging you toward the bathroom. You shoot him a look of confusion and annoyance, but he pays it no mind as he yanks you inside, closing the door behind you and pressing you against it.

“Toru, wha—”

“Told you I wanted something sweet, sugar. Bend over a little f’me.” he instructs, turning you so you’re facing the door. Your palms lay flat against it, trying to use it as leverage to turn yourself, but he presses your head to the door, too, his strong palm mushing your cheeks to it, sucking his teeth in disapproval.

“You’re insane, w-we’re in a gas station,” you try to reason with him, but his hand’s already shoved up your skirt and peeling down your panties. “Satoru, seriously…”

“Y’telling me to stop? She’s cryin’ f’me, though, I think she’ll be so sad if I don’t give her what she wants,” he purrs, getting to his knees and littering kisses on the fat of your ass. “C’mere, baby.”

You’re lost to him the moment he stuffs his face into your already dripping cunt, bucking yourself back against him and into the feel of his greedy tongue slipping between your folds and down, down, down to your clit. You can feel him smirking against you when he draws out a long shaky whine from your lips between your panting and while normally his cockiness would annoy you beyond belief, it instead turns you on more. And yet—

“Wh-hah— why couldn’t this wait until we got to the hotel?” you ask, nails scraping down the door when he plunges his tongue into your twitching hole.

He pulls away for a moment, spreading your ass to spit a glob of saliva between your folds and slurp it back up while sucking your clit. No answer. You huff and tremble, unsure of how long you’ll be able to keep yourself standing if he’s just gonna keep eating you like a man starved.

You try, you really do, to keep your voice down, but when his tongue hits that spot inside of your gummy walls, his hand between your thighs and thumb working on your clit, you can’t help but let your moans slip out. And oh, does that make him even more unrelenting. His thumb draws circles on your clit quicker and with more pressure, his tongue fucking into you as rough as can be. 

Your eyelids flutter closed, breathing labored as you feel that sweet sweet build up that you love so much. He knows what comes next and while normally, he’d see you to the end, this time he stops, earning a frown from your pretty face.

“Wh-why’d y—” you start.

“Y’mine, say it.”

“What? Toru, what’s—”

“Say. It. Say y’mine… say y’love me and I’ll make you cum so good, sugar, I promise.” he all but whines.

You don’t know why it needs to be said or what’s going on with him, but you’ll be damned if you let your orgasm escape you. With every second that passes, it runs from you, so you give him what he needs. “I’m yours, baby. I love you.” you coo.

“Again.” he huffs against your cunt, making your knees weak. He’s so close. You’re so close.

“I love y— hah,” your breath escapes you when he delves his tongue back into your pulsing hole. “Fuuuuck… I love you, I love you, I l— fuck!” your cunt tries it’s best to grip his tongue, but he fucks it into you with more force as you cum on it, losing strength in your legs and slumping down while your brain goes dumb with pleasure.

He holds you up, tongue slipping out of you and back to your clit, his head shaking side to side while he licks at your clit, overstimulating you beyond belief. All you can do is cry out for mercy, palms battering at the bathroom door as you raise your white flag.

With that, he frees you from the sweet torture, massaging your thighs and resting back on his ankles. “I’m pumping your gas from now on.” he huffs.

Coming back to your senses, you realize why he pulled this stunt off. “Satoru. Were you… jealous!?” you chuckle in disbelief.

“I’ve got nothing to be jealous about, it seems. What with the ‘I love you, I love you, I—’” he mocks you while standing up and you smack his arm.

“Sh-shut up.” You huff, pouting as he puts your panties back in place, dolling you back up and kissing your shoulder.

“Nope. But you’re gonna wish you had when the poor guy out there’s blushing redder than red.” he teases. Your eyes widen and you cover your mouth with your hand when you realize he had to have heard everything.

“You’re insane.” your voice is muffled by your hand.

“Insane’s one word for it,” he smirks. “I like to say I’m just crazy for you.”

Not long later, you’re climbing back into the car. Satoru follows, flopping into the passenger seat with a contented sigh like he’s just won a marathon.

As you pull out of the station, he stretches again, kicking his feet up on the dash like he owns the place. “You know,” he says casually, “you should really thank me. That guy was totally about to ask for your number. I saved you from a very awkward situation.”

And you could quite literally kill him.

༒︎ Geto Suguru ༒︎

The room is buzzing with conversation, a polite undercurrent of tension that doesn’t escape you. Cult leaders and their followers mill about in finely tailored clothes, exchanging calculated smiles and empty pleasantries. You’re trying your best to look engaged, but your thoughts keep drifting to Suguru.

He stands a few feet away, surrounded by a small circle of curse users, his tall frame commanding attention with ease. His black robes flow elegantly around him, his long hair tied back neatly. The faint smirk on his face, the calm way he speaks— it all oozes confidence. Control. Every now and then, he glances in your direction, his sharp eyes softening for just a moment before flicking back to the conversation.

You’re nursing a drink near the refreshment table when someone sidles up beside you.

“Ah, I was hoping I’d get the chance to meet you,” a smooth voice says.

You turn to see a tall man in a perfectly tailored suit, his polished appearance almost too pristine. His expression is warm but calculated, and his sharp eyes are already fixed on you. Takeda. You recognize him instantly— leader of a large, influential cult. Non-sorcerer, but powerful in his own way.

“Good evening,” you reply, forcing a polite smile. They have their role to play, Geto tells you, so you make sure to keep appearances with non-sorcerers despite their usual poor attitude toward you.

He smiles wider. “Good evening, indeed. I couldn’t help but notice you standing here all by yourself. It seems almost criminal for someone as lovely as you to be left alone at an event like this.”

You feel your cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment, a small flush creeping up your neck. “I’m not alone. I’m here with my boyfriend,” you say, gesturing subtly in Suguru’s direction.

Takeda follows your gaze and chuckles softly. “Suguru Geto. Of course. I’ve heard much about him.” His attention snaps back to you, and his smile turns almost wolfish. “I must admit, though, I’m surprised. I didn’t think someone so… captivating would end up with a man who seems so creepy… Besides, I’m sure he’s always so busy. Too busy to truly appreciate a beauty like you.”

Your face heats further, and you stammer, “He’s not too busy. He’s just—”

Before you can finish, he takes your hand in his and presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles. It’s old-fashioned, deliberate, and enough to leave you momentarily stunned. Not in awe, but in pure shock. He’s bold, you’ll give him that.

Your breath catches, and you feel a wave of heat rush to your face. You try to pull your hand back, but his grip is firm— not unkind, but enough to make you falter. You can’t ruin appearances by hurting him, so you allow it, praying he’ll give up soon.

“A pleasure meeting you,” he murmurs, his lips still ghosting over your skin.

And then you feel it— the air shifting suddenly. A heavy, familiar presence fills the space around you, and Takeda finally releases your hand. You glance over your shoulder to see Suguru a few feet away, his dark eyes fixed on the two of you as he approaches.

“Takeda,” Suguru says smoothly, his tone light but carrying a weight that makes your stomach flip because you know better.

Takeda straightens and flashes a smile that’s far too confident. “Geto. What a pleasure to see you,” He gestures toward you. “I was just introducing myself to your lovely partner. She’s quite… enchanting.”

Suguru’s lips twitch, curving into a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m aware.”

There’s a pause, the kind that feels too loud in the quiet. Suguru’s gaze flickers briefly to your hand before returning to Takeda.

“I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable,” he continues softly.

Takeda chuckles nervously, clearly unsure of how to respond. Geto’s not usually the type to be confrontational in public. It’s normally all smiles and politics for him, so this has Takeda stunned. “I meant no disrespect, of course.”

Suguru hums thoughtfully. “No disrespect… Of course not.” He tilts his head slightly, his smile sharpening. “But you’d do well to remember your place, Takeda. Admiration is one thing. Touching, however…” He trails off, his tone turning razor-sharp, dark eyes honing in on the poor man’s. “That’s dangerous, especially for someone like you.”

Takeda falters, his polished demeanor cracking for just a moment. “I— I’ll keep that in mind,” he mutters before excusing himself and retreating into the crowd.

As soon as he’s gone, Suguru turns to you, his sharp expression softening slightly. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just looking at you in a way that makes your stomach twist.

“You seemed… flustered,” he says finally, his voice quiet but probing.

Your cheeks burn, and you look away. “I wasn’t, he just caught me off guard,” you mumble.

Suguru steps closer, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Are you sure? Because from where I was standing…” He pauses, his voice dropping. “It looked like you didn’t mind it.”

“Suguru—”

“Did you like it?” he interrupts, his tone impossibly soft, almost vulnerable. “A weakling holding your hand, kissing it like that… Did you enjoy it?” 

Your heart twists at the faint frown tugging at his lips, the rare glimpse of uncertainty in his usually composed expression. That’s when you recognize the look in his eye. It isn’t anger, it’s fear. Insecurity. Things you never expected to see from him.

“No,” you say quickly, reaching for him. “Of course not. I could never, baby.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze flickering over your face as if searching for any sign of dishonesty. Finally, he exhales softly and takes your hand in his, his thumb brushing over the spot where Takeda’s lips had been.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm.

He leads you down a hallway, wanting to be away from the noise and chatter of the convention. When he pushes open the door to an empty room and pulls you inside, the silence feels almost deafening in comparison to everything on the outside.

Suguru closes the door and turns to face you, his dark eyes heavy with emotion. Without a word, he cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Say it,” he whispers, his voice raw.

“Say what?” you ask softly, your hands resting on his chest.

“That you’re mine,” he breathes, his forehead pressing against yours. “That you wouldn’t leave me for some monkey.”

Your heart aches at the quiet desperation in his tone. “I’m yours, of course I’m yours.” You whisper, your hands curling into his robes. “Always.”

The next thing you know, his lips are melting yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more insistent. When he pulls back, his breathing is uneven, and his eyes are darker than ever.

“Again,” he all but whines, his lips trailing down to your jaw. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Suguru,” you repeat, your voice racing as your heart squeezes. “Only yours.”

He exhales sharply, his hands sliding down to grip your waist. “Good,” he whispers, moreso to himself. “Good… because I need you.”

You nod, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses you again, this time with a desperation that feels like he’s trying to erase every trace of Takeda’s touch from your skin.

His nails dig into your sides, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, tasting all that you have— all that you are. He’s needy, moving to hoist you up and hook your legs around his waist.

Your dress rides up your thighs and he wastes no time gripping at the fat of them, subtly rolling his hips into you in a way that tells you he may just be doing it subconsciously. Gasps are shared between your lips as he kisses you a few more times before moving to swipe his tongue up your neck, stopping just under your jaw and sucking a big fat hickey into the crevice.

It feels so good that you almost don’t notice the way his hands are working their way down, down, down to your ass, pulling you into him with every roll of his hips. You feel how hard he is even through his robes, unable and unwilling to stop yourself from sliding the top of his gojogesa off his broad shoulders. You’re dipping your head down to pepper kisses all over his shoulder while he marks you up, your nails leaving marks of their own on his skin from how hard you’re gripping him.

You know what this is. Know what he needs. You’d be a fool to stop him from taking it. “Sugu… here.” You tell him, emphasizing your words by rolling your hips in tandem with his.

You swear you hear him growl as he tears his lips from your throat and grips your underwear on one side to tear them off, your eyes widening at the action. Suguru’s normally a calm, calculated man, even when he makes love to you, everything is suave and he’s always in control, but now? Now, he’s become someone entirely different. Someone needy. Someone eager to prove a point. To stake a claim.

“Here, angel.” Is all you hear before your mouth is stuffed with your own underwear and– when did he whip his dick out? You’ve got no idea, but it’s plugged into you before you can react, a long and grateful groan just spilling from Suguru’s lips like he’s finally laying in bed after a long day of hard labor. He’s home. Your head falls back against the door and he uses the opportunity to attack your neck again, littering the skin with kisses, licks, and the occasional bite.

He’s got no rhyme or rhythm in his thrusts, he simply ruts into you with a force that has the door shaking, the metal bar rattling and making your stomach lurch with fear at the fact that it could so easily be pushed for you two to end up on display for everyone. The fear falls away soon, however, replaced with nothing but pleasure when he’s targeting that wonderful gummy little bullseye that makes you go dumb on his cock.

Your eyes start searching for something in the back of your head, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth and soaking your underwear as your shaky moans are muffled by the fabric. And you don’t know when it started, but your ears tune into Suguru whining the same thing repeatedly. “Mine, all mine, mine, mine, mine—” again and again and again with every punctuated thrust targeting your poor cervix.

Your nails rake down his back, hoping to find some sort of balance to compensate for the fact that your legs are beginning to ragdoll, no strength left in them as they flop by his sides with every thrust. Except, you don’t have to worry. No, his grip on you is bruising, he never wants to let you go.

And you wish you could see his face in this moment. See how he looks when he’s so adamant about proving it to himself that you’re his. Before you know it, you’re snaking a hand into his hair and tugging his head back, earning a needy little whine from his puffy lips before he’s looking at you. Oh, is he looking at you. Like you’re the world. Like you’re salvation. His brows are drawn tightly together, a pout on his lips that tells you he’d be nothing without you. God, you wanna kiss him. Wanna tell him a million times over that you’d never even think of another.

The look on your face tells him exactly what you want, you think, because in the next instant, he’s tearing the underwear from your mouth and crushing his lips into yours. His thrusts have rhythm now, his hips fucking into you with urgency. Every time his thick cock slips past your puffy folds, you’re inched closer, oh so closer to cumming and your stomach draws tight at the feeling. He’s chasing both of your orgasms, not once missing that spongey little spot that makes you see stars as he pounds you into the door, your voice sounding out to God knows how many people are in the hallway while you kiss him, your drool now slipping down his chin.

You hear him groan into the kiss as his hips start to falter– he’s close. And yet, while his rhythm is lost, his force is worse. Every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge until you’re right there. “I love you,” he whines against your lips before breaking away and letting his head fall back. “I love you, I love you, I. Fucking. Love. You.” He punctuates the last repetition with a thrust for each word, cumming on the very last one along with you, who couldn’t help but cum at the words he’s never said before.

You two had been together for a year. A whole year and not once had Suguru ever uttered the words. You always knew he wasn’t an emotional man, so you never expected to hear the words. You felt it, though. His care for you. It was in his actions. How he never forgot an important date, how he would always bring home food or a treat or flowers for you, how he loathed being away from you for any given reason. And yet, the words still shock you.

He ruts into you a few more times before he stills, nothing to be heard except for your breaths shared between each other until his eyes go wide– perhaps in realization of what he’s just said, and he kisses you. Softer this time. More sure of himself. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he’s confessed.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Don’t let anyone else touch you like that again,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. Not angry, not upset, just… needy.  “I don’t care who it is. I won’t stand for it. Even if you don’t love me like I love you, I just can’t bear to see that again.”

You smile and offer a tired chuckle, brushing his hair back from his face. “Y’know, for someone usually so calculated and knowing, you sure are stupid,” you shake your head softly. “I love you, too. More, actually.”

His lips press against your temple, and he exhales slowly, the tension in his body finally easing. “Not possible,” he murmurs again, his voice soft. You can hear his smile in it. “Nobody’s ever loved anyone like I love you.”

༒︎ Toji Fushiguro ༒︎

You aren’t sure if dragging Toji to your high school reunion is a brilliant idea or the worst decision you’ve made all year. On one hand, you know he can charm the socks off anyone when he wants to, all cocky smirks and lazy grins that send shivers down your spine. On the other hand, he doesn’t exactly thrive in situations that involve niceties and polite small talk—especially with people he doesn’t give a shit about. Still, you’ve convinced him, mostly because you want to show him off. He’s hot, and he’s yours. What’s the point if you can’t gloat a little?

Toji is surprisingly well-behaved for most of the evening. He nurses a glass of bourbon with his usual swagger, leaning against the bar and throwing you looks that tell you that he’ll be waiting for you to make this worth his while later. He even manages to avoid scaring off too many of your old classmates, though you catch the occasional side-eye when he’s not so subtle about telling them to fuck off. Everything’s going smoothly.

That is, of course, until he notices you talking to him.

You don’t mean to bump into your ex-boyfriend. Really, you don’t. But there he is, standing near the drink table with the same easy grin you remember from your teenage years. He calls your name, and before you can stop yourself, you’re smiling back and walking over. Toji’s gaze burns into your back the entire way.

“Wow, you look amazing,” your ex says, his tone warm but casual. It’s just an observation— a compliment between old friends, but you can just feel the way Toji’s teeth grind from across the room.

“Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself,” you reply, keeping your tone light. The conversation flows easily, filled with harmless reminiscing about old high school antics. Nothing romantic. Nothing serious. Just memories of embarrassing pranks, favorite teachers, and the god-awful cafeteria food.

But you know Toji. You don’t have to look to know he’s watching, his sharp green eyes narrowing every time your ex laughs or steps just a little too close. You can practically hear the internal dialogue: “Who the fuck does this guy think he is?”

Then your ex does it. The thing you know is going to push Toji over the edge.

He hugs you.

It’s quick and friendly, a casual embrace to say goodbye. But as soon as your ex’s arms wrap around you, you feel your body being eaten up by your boyfriend’s shadow. You pull back quickly, about to turn to Toji to defuse whatever storm is brewing, but it’s too late.

He moves quickly— silent and deadly. One second, he’s leaning against the bar. The next, he’s standing behind you, his presence towering and suffocating. His hand rests on the back of your neck, deceptively casual as he leans in close.

“I dunno why yer touchin’ her, pal,” Toji drawls, his voice low and dangerous, “but don’t let it happen again.”

Your ex blinks, clearly startled by the sudden shift in atmosphere. “I… sorry? I was just saying goodb—”

Toji’s hand moves and you worry he may actually hit the poor guy. “Oh, shit.”

“You gonna say goodbye, then get the fuck outta here,” Toji says, his grin sharp and feral as he subtly lifts his sweater just enough to reveal the gun tucked into his waistband. “Before I decide you don’t need yer legs.”

Your ex’s eyes go wide and he stumbles over himself to retreat, mumbling something about it being nice to see you before practically sprinting away. You don’t even have time to scold Toji before security is suddenly very interested in the two of you.

Five minutes later, you’ve been escorted out of the venue, Toji’s hand resting possessively on the small of your back. You wait until you’re alone in the parking lot to whirl on him.

“Seriously?” you hiss, smacking his arm. “You pulled a gun on him?!”

“Relax, doll,” Toji says, his grin infuriatingly smug. “I didn’t even take it out.”

You groan, stomping toward the car. You reach for the passenger door, but before you can open it, his arm shoots out, blocking your path.

“Nah,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Yer sittin’ in the back with me.”

“What, am I in trouble now? Gonna spank me?” you ask sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

Toji doesn’t answer. He just opens the back door and shoves you inside, sliding in next to you and shutting the door behind him. You cross your arms, giving him a pointed glare. It doesn’t take long before he’s sulking.

He leans back against the seat, legs spread wide, and huffs like an overgrown child. “Wasn’t jealous,” he mutters.

You snort. “Sure you weren’t.”

“Ain’t funny,” he grumbles, glaring at you.

You can’t resist pushing him just a little further. “If you’re not jealous, then you won’t mind if I go back inside to grab his number. Y’know, for old times’ sake.”

His head snaps toward you, his jaw tightening. In one quick motion, he turns, caging you against the seat with his arms. “The fuck you just say?”

“You heard me,” you say, smirking. “If you’re not jealous, it shouldn’t bother you.”

Toji’s eyes narrow, and the tension in the car shifts again, but this time it isn’t anger. It’s something else entirely. He leans in until his nose brushes yours, his voice dropping to a low growl.

“Ain’t about bein’ jealous,” he says, his breath warm against your lips. “Ain’t nobody else touchin’ my girl. Don’t care what reason they have.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you closer as his lips ghost along your jawline. His touch is possessive, his grip firm enough to leave no room for argument. You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine.

“Toji…” you start, but he cuts you off with a low chuckle.

“Nah, you’ve been mouthin’ off thinkin’ yer cute,” he says, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. “Time to shut that pretty mouth o’ yours.”

He's enjoying himself, towering over you in the confined space of the car, the sunlight streaming in from the windows only highlighting the wolfish grin that spreads across his face.

“You’re so—”

"Hm?" He hums, his hand already snaking down your side, easily slipping under the hem of your dress as he plants a kiss onto the side of your neck. "Y' got somethin' t' say, doll?" 

His fingers dance on your skin, inching closer and closer to the spot he knows will make you weak in the knees. He's toying with you, getting a kick out of your restraint as you try to formulate words again. But before you can finish even a syllable, he cuts you off.

"Save it, sweetheart. Was gonna be nice 'nd all when we got home t’night, but you had to go and run that pretty mouth with yer ex." He growls lowly in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “So while yer getting yer brains fucked stupid, I want you t’remember… this is on you.”

With a rough grasp, he flips you onto your stomach in the backseat, your dress riding up your ass as he yanks your panties down with a swift tug, the cool air hitting it and making your hole clench around nothing. His dick is hard and straining against his pants, pre seeping through to form a dark spot. The anticipation of what's to come has your breath hitching, heat pooling between your legs. He leans over you, the weight of his body pressing down onto yours.

He’s rutting against your ass, one hand sliding up to toy with one of your nipples while his other hand massages your hip. God, if you could see the needy little look on your face right now, then he’d finally get you to understand just why he’s so addicted to you. You’re just so gluttonous for him. Always wanting more, more, more. And of course, he’s always willing to give.

But right now isn’t the moment for giving. No, he needs to take. To take and take and take until there’s no more left of you to give to anyone but him. Always him. He backs away just enough for him to unzip his pants, his cock springing free. His hand finds it immediately, stroking himself in slow, teasing motions, hard length throbbing against your bare ass. There's a devilish grin on his face as he utters, "Gonna show ‘er how much she needs me."

Without waiting for a response, he aligns himself with your sobbing cunt, teasing your folds with his thick head just swiping back and forth and mixing his pre into your skick. He groans at the contact, his hand gripping your hip tighter. Suddenly, with a swift thrust, he plunges himself deep, his girth stretching you so mind numbingly good that you fear you may just pass out. The thing is, he’s barely in, but the sensation is already overwhelming, causing you to gasp and buck your hips.

He wishes you knew how fucking good you feel. Wishes you knew that whenever he fucks you, that tight ring of resistance tries so hard to push him out. That is, until he’s fucked his fat tip into you a few times, because then you’re practifally sucking him in. He knows the stretch is a lot. Knows you’re sore hours later without fail and yet, you still beg for more. Just like now.

Words are failing you, but your look is enough. You want more. Need more than just his tip. You wanna be broken in. And so he does. He feeds you inch after inch of him, sitting up and pausing at the halfway point to admire the way your cunt looks swallowing him so eagerly. He grasps at the globes of your ass, jiggling them and biting his lower lip at the God granted sight.

His free hand moves to the back of your head, fingers snaking into your hair before he grips tightly and brings your head up so he can press your face into the window. And just light that, he fucks the rest of himself into you roughly, grunting.

"Fuckin’— take it," he rasps out, taking a brief moment to adjust to the feeling of your tightness around him, unable to resist a little moan of his own. Then, he starts moving. Slow and punishing at first, then picking up speed with the same punishing force. Each thrust is precise and purposeful, perfectly hitting that spot inside you that makes you feel fuzzy. He's unabashedly vocal too, grunting and groaning with each delicious slide in and out of your wetness. "Fuck... y' take my cock so good..." he compliments, pushing your face harder into the back window. 

Easing up on his grip on your waist, he rolls his hips, grinding against your ass before pulling out for just a moment to slap his tip against your folds, watching as your cunt twitches and then thrusting back in again. His actions are deliberate and controlled, meant to stir you up and drive you to your limit. 

"Please baby, please, please, please..." you moan helplessly, your words swallowed up by the sounds of your bodies slapping together and his grunts of pleasure. But he merely chuckles darkly, gripping your hip and pressing your face against the window harder as if to anchor himself and punish you at the same time, his thrusts never faltering. 

"Y' can gimme more than that," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans down, teeth nibbling at your exposed neck. 

He slows almost to a stop, but the slight shallow thrusts still feel so overwhelmingly good you think you’re gonna go insane. “Y’really think she could live without me? Mmm mm, no, she needs me. I’m the only one who can stuff this greedy little pussy the way she needs to be stuffed. Isn’t that right, baby? Say it f’me.”

“F-fuck! Toki, gonna—” SMACK!

“Not talkin’ to you, princess. Talkin’ to her.” He delivers a pointed thrust into you to emphasize the fact that he’s genuinely talking to your cunt in his pussydrunk state.

Your sure he’s left a permanent handprint because of how hard he spanked your ass. The sting that lingers where his palm landed makes your cunt twitch and ache around him, which he considers to be answer enough. “S’what I fuckin’ thought. Atta fuckin’ girl, yes baby.” He groans, quickening the pace ever so slightly and beginning to pull you back into him to meet his thrusts.

“Talkin to an ex, y’must have wanted to get yerself fucked stupid, hm? Is that what you wanted? To be fucked like this?” He’s talking, but you can tell it isn’t for actual answers, no, it’s more to himself. He’s fucked out. So close to the edge.

The thrusting quickens, his hot breath fanning over your ear. "Cum f' me, doll," he commands, his voice dropping an octave, "show me how good I make y' feel. Only me. And then I’m gonna breed yer cute cunt so good." With that, he delivers a particularly hard thrust, aiming for that spot inside you that will unravel you completely.

That’s when you finally let loose, the coil inside your tummy snapping and letting you feel so much pleasure that you’re moving your ass back into him with a force that’s unmatched, just swallowing him deep into you over and over again. And that does it for him— his cum spurting inside you and filling you so good.

He kisses you so hungrily you feel you may just lose your breath entirely and pass out. His hands are holding you in place so you don’t fuck back onto him, because he knows if you did, he’d break you.

Toji leans back, smirking at the sight of you, his thumb brushing your swollen lips.

“You done throwing your little tantrum?” you tease, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

He glares at you, though there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re real fuckin’ funny, y’know that?”

“Oh, I know.” And deciding to drop the bombshell now, you lean back against the seat and say casually, “By the way, he’s married. To a man. They have two kids.”

Toji freezes, his expression shifting from smug to incredulous in seconds. He blinks like a cartoon character in shock, his brows furrowing. “What?”

“Yup,” you say, your grin widening. “Your big, scary display of dominance? Totally unnecessary.”

He huffs, running a hand through his hair. The look on his face is so priceless you wish you could brand it into your memory. “Tch. Coulda fuckin’ said somethin’ sooner.”

“And miss all the fun?” You laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Before you can say anything else, he’s on you again, his hands roaming as he mutters, “Gonna make you pay for makin’ me start a scene.”

You laugh, the sound cutting off into a gasp as his hands find their mark. “I made you start a scene? Oh, this I gotta hear.” You say, your voice breathless but still teasing.

“Keep talkin’, doll,” he says, his grin turning wicked. “See where it gets ya.” And then his lips are finding yours again. Just like that, the argument is forgotten, lost in the haze of his possessive, consuming affection.

༒︎ Choso Kamo ༒︎

The mall is crowded, loud with the hum of chattering voices and echoing footsteps. It isn’t your favorite place to hang out, but your best friend had begged you to come along. Somehow, Choso ended up tagging along too, though you weren’t sure why. He wasn’t exactly the mall type, after all— too quiet, too detached from the bustling energy of human spaces like this.

You glance over your shoulder at him now, and there he is, just like you’d expect. He’s trailing a few steps behind, hands shoved into the sleeves of his robe, his dark eyes drifting lazily over the crowd. His usual stoic mask is firmly in place, making him seem untouchable to anyone passing by. But you know better than that. Beneath the unapproachable aura, Choso is awkward— painfully shy even. He’s still figuring out how to interact with humans, still trying to understand what it means to live in a world like this.

And for some reason, he’s decided you’re his safe space.

You smile to yourself, turning your attention back to the task at hand. Your friend had told you they’d meet you at the bookstore, but they’re running late, so you decide to wander into one of the nearby shops to kill time.

Choso doesn’t follow. You assume he’s probably going to find a dark corner to tuck himself into. 

What you don’t realize is that he does follow. At a distance. He’s used to watching from the sidelines, content to let you move through your world without interference. He doesn’t mind, in fact, he learns from watching how you interact with people, animals, media, and the likes. He learns about the world, but more importantly, he learns about you.

His eyes are on you now, but just seconds later, they shift. There’s a new focus, a new target. Him.

The guy behind the counter at the little boutique you walked into. He’s tall, clean-cut, and obnoxiously friendly. At first, Choso thinks nothing of it. It’s not like he can stop every stranger from talking to you. But as the guy’s gestures become more animated, and his laughter gets a little too familiar, something shifts in Choso’s chest.

He wishes he could hear whatever it is he’s saying that has you so giddy. Wishes he could just— wait, what?

The guy leans forward across the counter, his hand brushing yours as he hands you something, maybe a receipt, maybe a bag, Choso doesn’t care. Because what he does next is what hammers the nail in the coffin. His hand moves to the top of your head and he ruffles your hair, making you laugh. It’s the casual intimacy of the gesture that makes his stomach churn. He knows he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. He knows. But he can’t help the way his jaw tightens, or the way his fingers curl into fists in his sleeves.

You’re still smiling at the guy. You’re laughing. And he hates it.

His mind spirals before he can stop it. The scene plays over and over in his head, each time twisting into something worse. What if you like this guy? What if you’re into someone who can flirt with ease, someone who doesn’t stumble over their words or overthink every little thing?

What if you don’t want him?

Choso feels a sharp pang in his chest, like something fragile has cracked. He’s been so careful, so guarded with his feelings. He thought he could keep them tucked away, safe from rejection, safe from ruining this. But now? Now he feels them slipping through the cracks, raw and unmanageable.

He looks away, leaning back against the wall outside the store. His heart’s racing, though he doesn’t know why. It’s not like he has any claim over you. You’re your own person, free to talk to whoever you want. He’s just… He’s just the weird half-curse with no idea what his place is in this world who follows you around and doesn’t know how to say what he feels. But what if he did say it?

The thought hits him like a lightning bolt, sudden and electrifying. He’s scared, sure— terrified, actually, but the idea of staying silent is worse. He doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, not without at least trying.

So he waits.

When you finally walk out of the shop, you’re holding a small bag, a content smile on your face. You spot him instantly, standing off to the side like he’s been there the whole time.

“Hey, sorry that took so long. They had some really cute stuff in there,” you say, holding up the bag as if to explain.

Choso doesn’t respond right away. His eyes flick to the shop behind you, then back to your face. He doesn’t ask about your purchases. Instead, he asks, “Who was that?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Who?”

“The guy you were talking to,” he says, his tone as flat as ever, but there’s something behind it—a tension you can’t quite place.

“Oh, him? That’s just my friend from school. He works here part-time,” you explain, shrugging. “I didn’t even know before now.”

Your words are casual, but they allow Choso a wave of relief. That relief is short-lived, however, replaced almost immediately by a surge of determination. This is his chance. His moment to say what he’s been holding back.

“Can I… talk to you for a second?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You tilt your head, curious but not concerned. “Of course. What’s up?”

He gestures for you to follow him, leading you away from the bigger crowd and toward a seating area deeper in the mall that’s less populated. Once you’re there, he turns to face you, his hands still buried in his sleeves.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He’s searching for the right words, but they don’t come. Instead, what comes out is raw and unfiltered.

“I thought you liked him,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blink, surprised. “What? No, Choso, I told you, he’s just a friend.”

He nods, but his gaze drops to the floor. “I know. It’s just… I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” you ask gently.

He looks up at you then, his dark eyes searching yours. “This. Any of this. Being around people. Trying to figure out how I’m supposed to feel, how I’m supposed to act.”

You wait, sensing there’s more he wants to say.

“But with you… it’s different,” he continues, his voice steady despite the nerves etched into his expression. “I don’t feel lost when I’m with you. I feel… human.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t interrupt.

“And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you,” he says, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “I like you. I… I think I’ve liked you since the moment we met. I just didn’t know how to say it— didn’t know what it was. B-But I do, now.”

You stare at him, his confession hanging in the air between you. For a moment, he thinks he’s made a mistake. That he’s crossed a line he can’t uncross.

But then you smile.

Not just any smile— the kind of smile that makes him feel like the world isn’t so complicated after all.

It’s all you can do because his confession doesn’t catch you off guard, not really.

You’ve always known.

“Cho,” you say softly, stepping closer, “I know. I’ve known for a while.”

His eyes widen slightly, his lips parting in surprise. “You… knew?”

You nod, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. You’re not exactly subtle, you know. But I didn’t say anything because I wanted to give you time. Time to figure out what you wanted, how you felt.”

He’s silent, staring at you like he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or mortified.

“For what it’s worth,” you continue, your voice warm, “I like you, too. Just as you are. You don’t have to change or be anyone else for me, Choso. I like you for you.”

Something in his expression shifts. It’s now a mix of disbelief and something deeper, something more raw. His gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest moment, and when he speaks, his voice is barely audible. “Can I… kiss you?”

The question catches you off guard, not because you don’t want him to, but because of the way he asks it, so tentative and earnest.

“Of course,” you say, your tone gentle but steady.

But he hesitates, his eyes darting to the small crowd around you. His voice drops lower, almost shy. “Not here. Can we… go somewhere else?”

You bite back a smile at how endearing he looks, his cheeks tinted pink as he avoids your gaze. “Come on,” you say, nodding toward a quieter hallway where the restrooms are tucked away.

He follows you like a shadow, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie as he keeps his head down. When you reach the single-occupancy restroom, you push the door open and step inside, holding it for him as he follows. The door clicks shut, and the noise of the mall fades into a distant hum.

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the tension in the small space thick enough to cut with a knife. Choso shifts nervously, his hands twitching at his sides. “I… don’t know how start,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s okay,” you reply, your smile soft and steady. “Just follow my lead.”

You step closer, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. He freezes for a moment, his dark eyes wide and uncertain, but when you lean in, his lids flutter shut.

The kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips warm and soft against yours. But as you deepen it, something shifts. It’s like a switch flips inside him, and suddenly his hands are on your waist, gripping you like you might slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

He grows bolder with each passing second, his fingers wandering over your arms, your back, your hips, your ass. There’s a desperation in the way he touches you, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you all at once. Finally, he pulls you flush against him, his entire arms wrapped around you, one hand gripping your hip and the other on your shoulder.

You can’t help but chuckle against his lips, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. “Easy, Cho,” you murmur, your tone teasing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face flushed as he loosens his grip, but only slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to stop.”

Your smile softens, and you press a light kiss to his cheek. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay to feel nervous.”

You kiss him again, this time letting him lead you. As things heat up, he starts to get carried away again, his hands roaming with a mix of urgency and inexperience. His kisses grow hungrier, his breath ragged as he presses closer, his body practically trembling against yours.

Suddenly his whole body stiffens and a low, unsteady sound akin to a whine escapes him before he pulls back, his face burning with embarrassment. He avoids your gaze, his hands falling away as he stammers, “I— I’m sorry. I dunno what— I didn’t want to stop, I—”

You pull back further to see a dark patch beginning to form even on the purple cloth that rests in front of his robes, realizing what happened. Your perfect Choso just came in his pants from kissing you. You can’t stay silent much longer for fear of making him more embarrassed, so you hush him gently, cupping his face and tilting it so he has no choice but to meet your eyes. “Cho, it’s okay,” you say firmly, your voice steady and soothing. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. This is all new for you, and that’s perfectly fine.”

He swallows hard, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of judgment or disappointment. When he finds none, his shoulders relax just a little.

“You mean that?” he asks softly.

You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “Of course, I do. We’ll take things slow, okay? There’s no rush.”

He nods slowly, the tension in his posture easing as he lets out a shaky breath. After a moment, he looks at you again, his expression soft but serious. “Is this… what love is?” He closes his eyes, his lips curving into the faintest smile as he leans into your touch. And in that quiet, stolen moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in its place.

༒︎ Ryomen Sukuna ༒︎

The room is dimly lit, the sterile scent of disinfectant clinging to the air. You’re lying back on the exam table, your dress pulled up over your growing belly. The monitor hums softly as the sonographer, a man with overly polite eyes and a soothingly gentle touch, adjusts the machine. He explains the process as he goes, his voice calm and warm, clearly trying to put you at ease.

Today is your first 3D ultrasound where you’ll finally get a better view of the life growing inside you. It feels surreal. You’ve had to wait until you’re 32 weeks along to get the best view, so the wait has made you antsy. Will it look like Sukuna? You? Will it smile or suck its thumb? Surely it’s too early for that, right? All of these questions are running through your mind and making your body vibrate with both nervousness and anticipation. It actually does help that the sonographer noticed and is trying to soothe you. 

You glance to the corner where Sukuna stands, his towering figure leaned protectively against the wall. His crimson eyes are locked on the sonographer, sharp and unyielding, like a predator stalking prey. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, claws tapping rhythmically on his forearm, a faint sound that portrays his growing irritation. The air feels heavy with tension; thick enough to cut with a knife. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t contribute to your current nervousness.

The sonographer prepares to squirt gel onto your belly, offering you a soft smile. “This might feel a little cold,” he says, his tone careful. “But it’ll help us get a clear image of the baby.”

You flinch slightly at the cold, and the response is immediate.

“Watch your hands.” Sukuna’s voice slices through the room, low and menacing.

The sonographer freezes, visibly startled. His gaze darts nervously to Sukuna. “I- I’m just preparing her to perform the scan, sir. There’s no need to worry.”

Sukuna scoffs, the sound dark and mocking. “Worry? I’m not worried, human. I’m warning you.” His crimson eyes narrow, radiating danger. “You’re touching my wife who’s carrying the heir to my throne. Be mindful.”

You press your palm to your forehead, exhaling sharply. “Ryo,” you say, your tone firm. “He’s doing his job. Stop scaring him.”

Sukuna’s eyes flick to you, softening slightly, but the fire in them doesn’t fully die. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

The sonographer hesitates, visibly uneasy, before resuming his work. The wand glides gently over your belly, and the monitor flickers to life. He points out the baby’s heartbeat, their tiny limbs, and the way they seem to kick at nothing in particular. His voice is soothing as he explains, almost too soothing for Sukuna’s liking.

You can see that the baby has four limbs, thankfully, and it’s got a frown on it’s face, much like its father’s. Until you speak, that is. When you speak, you can see the soft smile that graces your sweet baby’s face, again much like its father’s. You feel tears prick at your eyes finally seeing your baby so clearly.

The sonographer glances at you again, his smile almost reverent. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your baby looks perfect— beautiful, actually.”

That does it.

“Beautiful, huh?” Sukuna mutters, his voice laced with venom. “Bet you say that to every woman you see. Must be part of your script. You’re just so reassuring. Well, my wife doesn’t need that. She has me. Do you think yourself better than I?”

“Ryomen.” Your voice sharpens, and you shoot him a glare that tells him you’re angry. “Enough.”

He stares at you for a long moment, his lips curling in mild defiance, but he backs off for now. The sonographer continues, though his hands move a little faster this time, clearly eager to finish. Sukuna’s eyes remain locked on him, every small movement scrutinized like a hawk circling its prey.

Finally, the scan concludes. The sonographer hands you a towel to clean off the gel, offering another polite smile. He opens his mouth to speak, but Sukuna doesn’t give him the chance.

“You’re done, right? Get out.”

The man’s eyes widen; he looks to you as if hoping for an intervention. You manage a tight smile. “Thank you for your help. Forgive my unpleasant husband,” you say pointedly, dismissing him with a polite nod.

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone. Sukuna stands there, still bristling, his claws twitching at his sides.

You sigh, wiping the last of the gel from your belly. “You’re ridiculous, Kuna. He wasn’t touching me in any sort of suspicious way.”

“He shouldn’t have been touching you in the first place,” Sukuna snaps, taking a step closer.

“He’s a medical professional, Ryomen. It’s his job.”

“I don’t care,” he growls, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “He was too close; too soft. Like he thought he could make you feel safer than I do.”

You sit up, tugging your dress down over your belly. “No one is trying to take your place.”

He scoffs, pacing in front of you like a restless beast. “You’re mine. No one else gets to put their hands on you like that.”

You stand, squaring your shoulders as you step into his path. “Would you rather our child go unchecked and we miss something bad? You can’t scare every single person who helps me, Ryomen.”

His eyes narrow, the frustration in them simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re too soft,” he mutters. “Always making excuses for people who don’t deserve it.”

“Soft doesn’t mean weak,” you counter, standing firm. “And I don’t need you turning every little thing into a fight. Trust me, Ryomen. I’m not going anywhere. But… you’re wrong, you know. I do need comfort. You provide safety, yes, but never reassurance. Gentleness. Maybe just… passive acceptance. I’m carrying your child. Of course I’d like to be doted on and treated with care.”

Before he can get upset again, you add, “By you. Only you. So just— please stop it with the anger and hostility. I want my child to know their father is capable of love the way I know he is.”

The tension in his shoulders loosens slightly, though the possessiveness in his gaze remains. He steps closer, towering over you, his hand coming to rest on your belly. His touch is firm but deliberate, a reminder of who you belong to.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “You. The baby. You’re my dearest prizes. No one else gets to act like they know how to care for you better than I do. I study everything, every minute detail about you and what’s to expect with the child. I suppose I’ve been so wound up with preparing myself and protecting you that I’ve gotten more hostile than usual. I… can work on it.”

You place your hand over his, meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“Get back on the exam bed.”

“What? Why? He’s finish—” he interrupts you by walking you backwards until your ass hits the edge, caging you in.

“Because I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you look carrying my heir and standing up to even me. And I’d like to show you just how much I love it.” He says, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against your neck, just below your jawline. As expected, you tilt your head up for a kiss and he indulges you, kissing you so hungrily and lifting you onto the bed.

His hands wander all over your body, his touch carrying a gentleness you’re not used to. Goosebumps raise on the whole of your body in response and you’re leaning forward into the kiss, losing yourself in it. You don’t even realize he’s hiked your dress up and removed your panties until the cold hits your slick-sheened pussy.

“Ryō—”

“I know, brat, I know.” He says, a teasing lilt in his voice as he parts from your lips to kiss along your jaw. “Come to the edge f’me.”

You do exactly that as he undoes his robes to reveal his second set of arms… and his second mouth. God, you love how freaky this man is. His second set of arms grip the globes of your ass to hold you steady as he pulls you flush against his lower mouth, his fat tongue just smearing your cunt with your slick and his saliva. 

You’ve never cared to admit that this mouth of his has always been your favorite. It’s so big that it offers more coverage, more pressure, and gets so much dee—

“Biiiiig stretch.” Sukuna warns you before he plunges his second tongue into your hole, lingering at that first ring of resistance to deliver a few shallow, but mind numbingly pleasurable thrusts before he pushes the rest of the way in; as much as he can, that is.

He uses the moment your pretty little mouth releases an ah! to kiss you again, his first set of hands slipping up your dress to find your tits. If there’s anything he’d put on top of the list of things he loves about your changing body, it’s this. How fucking thick your ass has become and undeniably huge your tits have grown. Just swelling and preparing to fill with milk to sustain his heir.

He pinches your sensitive nipples between his large fingers, making you moan into the kiss, relaxing your cunt around his tongue between you. Suddenly, you’re lifted just slightly above the table, his other hands beginning to fuck you on his tongue, his saliva and your slick just drip, drip, dripping onto the bed and floor beneath you.

“So greedy. Pussy’s always so fucking greedy…” he groans, resting his forehead against yours so you both can watch as your pussy bulges from swallowing his tongue so eagerly. It’s such a lewd sight, one you’ve undeniably grown addicted to in your time together.

Your moans mingle together and it’s then you realize that he’s now using just one of his hands to fuck you on his tongue. His other is wrapped around both of his cocks and pumping them together, ribbons of pre falling down his lengths and being smeared by his movements. You’re not even slightly ashamed of the way you salivate seeing him getting off while eating your pussy and watching himself do it. It’s so fucking filthy that you can’t help but—

“Gonna cum f’me, aren’t you? Mmmmmhm, can tell by how she’s flutterin’ around my tongue. My needy fucking wife.” He smirks, pulling you flush to him so that the widest part of his tongue rubs against your clit while he switches it up and fucks his tongue into you, faster this time.

“O-Ohmyfuckinggod!” The words come out strung together, the added attention on your clit making you see stars, your breath quickening, heart beginning to race. You lean back onto the bed using your hands to prop you up so you can get a better view.

“So nasty, beautiful.” A chuckle falls from his lips and you can’t even respond before his upper hands are just engulfing your tits and kneading, easing the pain of the swelling and pleasing you at the same time.

Then, something happens. Milk begins to drip from your right nipple and it has you both stopping in your tracks. You’d heard of the low possibility that milk can come before you give birth, but you never considered it’d happen to you. A blush of embarrassment creeps on your face and you’re about to apologize when you hear Sukuna groan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth immediately latches onto your tit and he just sucks.

“S-Sukuna, fuck!” You whine, his lower tongue beginning to work your quivering pussy again, bringing you right to the edge of pleasure.

He releases your tit with a pop! and nips it gently. “Mine. Mine, mine, all fuckin’ mine, such a good Queen providing for my heir early. Gonna be such a good momma.” He praises you before beginning to suck the lactating nipple again, making you come undone on his tongue, your gooey insides clenching around his tongue, trying to stop him with how tight you are, but he’s too strong, fucking his tongue into you through your orgasm to swallow up every last bit of cum you have to offer him.

It’s not until you’re whining and your legs are limp, weak pushes against his shoulders making him release your tit and slip his tongue from your slobbering hole. He runs the tip of his tongue against your oversensitive clit just a few times before you feel him kiss your puffy folds, making your body lurch.

You watch breathlessly as he tries to suck up the milk from your poor abused nipple again, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging his face up to yours. “Y’know, you’re mine too. Forever. Don’t you forget that.” You smirk.

Something flickers in his eyes— pride, possessiveness, and a touch of vulnerability he’d never admit to. “Damn right I’m yours,” he says, his lips curling into a smirk. “But don’t think that means I’m gonna get soft on people.”

You lean into his hand as he caresses your cheek, a small smile playing at your lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” he says, leaning down until his face is inches from yours. His voice drops to a rumble. “Carrying my child. Still standing by me. So brave.”

“Someone has to keep you in check,” you tease, though your voice softens with affection.

He lets out a low chuckle, pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, well, let’s see if you’re brave enough to take my cocks after cumming like such a good brat f’me.” 

Your eyes widen, feeble hands trying to push him away by his chest, “Kuna! We have to leave, they’re probably traumatized!” You tell him in a hushed tone, suddenly all too aware that you’re in a doctor’s office for fuck’s sake.

“Yeah, well. They can afford the therapy.” He gives you a shit eating grin while thumbing open your cunt. “Open up real wide f’me, baby.”

And as you brace yourself, you remind yourself to make apology rounds to the staff whenever your husband is through with you.

༒︎ Nanami Kento ༒︎

Nanami Kento is tired. Not just the kind of tired you feel after a long day, though God knows his body aches from another grueling shift of paperwork and exorcisms. No, it’s deeper than that. A bone-deep fatigue that comes from too many hours spent away from the one person he’d rather be with. You.

He steps through the door, loosening his tie with one hand and holding his briefcase in the other. The house is warm and smells faintly like the lavender candle you always light in the evenings. It feels like home, but he quickly notices something’s off.

Your voice carries down the hall, light and warm, tinged with laughter. It’s a sound that usually has his shoulders relaxing, but tonight, there’s an edge of tension beneath it that prickles at him. He sets his things down quietly, toeing off his shoes, and listens.

“Yeah, it’s been kind of lonely lately,” you say, and he freezes in place, his hand hovering above the coat rack. “I mean, I get it. Nanamin works so hard and I love him for it, but… I don’t know. I just miss him. I feel like I barely see him anymore.”

His chest tightens. You’re talking about him. He takes a slow, measured breath and steps closer, rounding the corner silently.

“Thank you for keeping me sane, though. Honestly, if I didn’t have someone to talk to, I’d probably be climbing the walls by now.” There’s a soft laugh on the other end of the line. Gojo’s laugh. The realization is instant and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Gojo. Of course, it’s Gojo. His coworker, the occasional thorn in the side, the most insufferable man he knows. And apparently the one you’ve been leaning on while he’s been too busy drowning in work.

Kento feels his jaw tighten, his nails digging into the palm of his hand. He knows— logically, rationally— that there’s nothing going on between you and Gojo. You’d never betray him like that and Gojo, for all his teasing, would never cross that line. But the knot of jealousy twisting in his chest doesn’t care about logic.

You must have heard him shift uncomfortably because you glance over your shoulder, startled. Your expression softens when you see him and you give him a small, almost sheepish smile. “Hey, Kento just got home,” you say into the phone. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

Nanami doesn’t miss the way Gojo’s laugh sounds out one last time before you hang up. He doesn’t say anything as you set your phone on the counter, but his silence is heavy. You know him well enough to recognize it immediately.

“Ken,” you say softly, stepping toward him. “Long day?”

He hums in acknowledgment, his gaze steady on you. It’s not cold, but there’s something simmering behind it; something that makes you hesitate. “Gojo?” he asks finally, his voice calm but with an edge you can’t ignore.

You blink, caught off guard by his demeanor. “Yeah. He was just checking in. He knows I’ve been home alone a lot lately.”

“Does he?” His tone is even, but the sharpness is undeniable.

You frown, crossing your arms. “Nanami, it’s not like that. He’s a friend. Our friend. You know that.”

“I do.” And he does. He knows it’s innocent. But that doesn’t make it easier to hear you laughing and confiding in someone else while he’s been too busy to do the same.

“Ken.” Your voice softens and you reach for him, your hand brushing his arm. “Please don’t do this. Don’t beat yourself up or think anything crazy. I’m not mad at you for working so much. I know why you do it. I know it’s for us. But… it’s hard sometimes. That’s all I meant.”

“I hate that you feel like this,” he says quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That you have to go to someone else when I should be here.”

You step closer, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. “You’re here now,” you murmur, trying to pull him out of his head. “That’s what matters. That you always come back to me as soon as you can.”

He looks at you, something dark and conflicted in his eyes. “Is it enough?” he asks, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Am I enough? Or would you rather have a husband who has more time for you?”

Your heart breaks at the vulnerability in his voice. “Kenny,” you say firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Always.”

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly and his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s hungry. Desperate. As if he’s trying to make up for all the time he’s spent away from you in one moment.

You gasp against his mouth and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to the globes of your ass and gripping tightly. When he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll change for you,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “No more late nights. No more overtime. I’ll cut my hours. Whatever it takes to be here with you.”

“Ken, you don’t have to—”

“I do.” His hands slide under your shirt, his touch firm but gentle as he lifts it over your head and lets it fall to the floor. “I won’t let you feel like you’re second to anything. Ever again. You’re too precious to me. My world. My heart. My wife.”

His lips find your neck, trailing heated kisses down to your collarbone. He moves with a purpose, his hands exploring your skin as if to reacquaint himself with every inch of you. It’s more than physical— it’s a promise.

You tug at his tie, fumbling with the knot until he helps you pull it free and rips off his button-down. Then his hands are on you again, guiding you toward the bedroom.

“Lay back for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding but with an undercurrent of tenderness that makes your pulse race.

You obey, sinking onto the bed as he leans over you, his lips finding yours again. His touch is both reverent and possessive, his movements careful but insistent. Every kiss, every caress feels like an apology and a vow wrapped into one.

He wraps a hang around your throat, squeezing for one fleeting moment before trailing it down your chest, between your breasts, down your stomach, over your pubic bone, and finally under your nightgown to meet your slick riddled cunt.

“Shit,” he hisses, forehead resting against yours while he catches his breath, his fingers slipping back and forth between your folds, teasing at your clit in passes. “My love… I don’t want to waste any time, I just need t’feel you. Normally I’d ea—”

“I know, handsome, s’okay, I’m ready, I can take it.” You reassure him, knowing he was going to apologize for not properly warming you up.

You see, Nanami has always been one for foreplay. He could slurp up your saccharine slick for hours upon hours if you let him, but tonight? Tonight, he just wants to be one with you.

His hand finds one of yours and he intertwines your fingers, his other hand working to free his cock from the suffocating confines of his pants. When it springs free, it’s just throbbing an angry pink, beads of pre forming at the tip now that his dress pants aren't there to absorb them.

He aligns himself with your painfully empty hole, pushing past that first little ring of resistance with a long groan. The grip he has on your hand tightens, his knuckles turning white as he feeds you inch after mind numbing inch of his cock until his tip’s kissing your cervix. But you know his body well enough to know that isn’t it. And so you brace yourself for him to push in to the hilt, his mushroom tip ever so slightly bullying open your cervix as he does so, making you yelp out in both pleasure and pain.

His lips swallow your whines and whimpers, he’s determined to take everything you have to offer and give you more than what he has. The world, if you asked. His free hand finds purchase on your hip and he holds you steady as he starts to roll his hips into yours, passionately. Roughly. Like he’s trying to stuff you full of all of the love he has for you.

You moan out, reaching your own free hand up to cup his cheek, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his back, effectively telling him you need more. With every thrust after, you can’t help but gasp. You feel him in your lungs stealing every bit of breath you have, reddened leaking tip repeatedly hitting that bullseye that makes your mind go stupid.

“K-Ken, feels s’good! Hah!” You whine out, back arching up and pressing you flush to him. He moves his hand from your hip to wrap his arm around you, effectively holding your bottom half in the air to get deeper inside of you.

“Mine. My wife. My wife, my love, my beautiful, m-my heart.” He’s babbling, burying his head into your neck and pressing hot, wet, open mouthed kisses to it. You feel him slip his hand from yours and instead, he has the top of your head in the palm of his hand, using it to keep you still, but also to anchor himself so he doesn’t let you slip through his fingers.

“You’re going to be such a beautiful mom. Wh—hah, what kind of husband have I been by not trying to give you my babies? We can start now. After I cum riiiiight here.” He babbles, his other hand moving for only a second to press down where your stomach bulges with his thrusts.

And the look in his eyes tells you this is a promise, not just something he’s saying while fucking you. Just like the perfect little thing you are, you cum for him right then, dragging a long and frustrated groan from him.

“Pussy’s always so good for me. Milking me so good, my love…” he shudders as you cum on his throbbing length.

“Ken, f—fuh— fuck! Cum in me! Please, baby, cum in me!” You beg, making him chuckle.

“Oh? You think I’m done? No, I have to make up for lost time. Evert second I missed, I’ll make up for with an equal amount of time spent buried in this beautiful cunt of yours. Understood?”

And oh are you so incredibly fucked.

[vrystalius]

I know i just requested with weird nicknames for squid game characters.

But I want to see their reaction to your wallpaper being them or being another person. Literally obsessed with what you write its so cute. Take my heart ❤️

Squid Game men’s reaction for putting them as your phone’s wallpaper.

They randomly check your phone one day and find a picture of themselves staring back. How will they react? What kind of wallpaper do they have?

Pairing: Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu x gn!reader

Summary: You putting them as your phone wallpaper, them putting you as their phone wallpaper

Genre: Fluff, maybe a little angst in Nam-gyu’s part (mention of drug use)

Words: 800 per character

Note: I wrote this during my medicine and head concussion induced haze, forgive me for any inconsistencies or mistakes 😭🙏 Also, the middle pictures are a suggestion as what said wallpaper could be.

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // Salesman

— Choosing you as your wallpaper. —

Mostly surprise and confusion spread swirled in his mind the first time he stared back at himself in the form of your phone wallpaper. He never thought you’d screenshot this picture let alone use it as your wallpaper because c’mon— let’s be honest, you could’ve chosen any other picture of him and yet you decided on this.

It’s weird. Gong Yoo feels a little watched as he tries to find the food delivery app on your phone while having his own eyes stare back at him.

Although he had grown more and more fond of it every time he opened your phone anew. He sees how you grin a little when turning on your screen, how you sometimes giggle when you stare at it for too long. Sometimes you show it off to him and complain about he barely ever wears any skincare masks anymore.

“So you can have a new wallpaper? I don’t think so. My skin is fine for now, thank you darling.”

To be really honest, he finds it incredibly endearing that you chose him as your wallpaper, especially a picture like this. He thinks of himself as a sophisticated, charming, handsome salesman that lures desperate people into a death game and messes with homeless people in his free time, but you seemingly just see him as your soulmate, the love of your life, your husband.

— Choosing you as his wallpaper. —

Two months into the relationship and after a couple of dates, Gong Yoo already set you as his phone wallpaper. It was nice to have a reminder looking back at him to text you, check in on you, give you a call or even come by for dinner. A reminder that he has a special someone to care and love for.

He switches his wallpaper up every few weeks or months, wanting to keep it updated to your appearance. His chosen pictures are mostly intimate ones, snaps he takes while you are being unaware of how cute, attractive or adorable you look.

Pictures like when you are asleep on the couch in his arms after watching a movie, you after waking up and sleepily brushing your teeth in the mirror, you showing your back to him while waiting for the microwave to finish heating up the cheap convenience food, maybe even you stuffing your face with ice cream after a long day.

Whatever picture he may choose (much to your dismay), it always makes him smile to himself no matter the situation. Even if another homeless person asks him for spare change or those two random mobsters tried to jump him in an alleyway and now he was forced to “get rid of them”, a quick glance on his phone and seeing a cute picture of you immediately forces a smile to break out on his face.

The sight of their kidnapper smiling at his phone so lovingly while they were tied up and playing rock-paper-scissors for their lives probably made the two men shit their pants more than feeling the barrel of a revolver being pressed against the side of their head.

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

— Choosing him as your wallpaper. —

At first, Thanos reeeaaaallly disliked the picture you chose as your wallpaper. It was just a random reaction picture he send you one day about something he doesn’t even remember, and you went ahead and chose this as your phone wallpaper? Seriously?! Can’t you choose something more handsome, flattering?

He even offered to pose properly for you so you have a better pic to use, but after Thanos obviously started mewing and tried his absolute best to look as attractive as possible (which he already is but shhh), your boyfriend got extremely offended when you started laughing at his posing.

Your boyfriend gave up after a few attempts of secretly changing your wallpaper and seeing you pout every time he did, changing it right back to the one before.

If you really like it that much, fine. Just don’t let anyone see that you have that as your phone wallpaper, or else his rapper persona will never be able to recover from being exposed like that.

You don’t even understand why he is being so dramatic about your wallpaper anyway.

“I look hella ugly there, c’mon baby! Work with me here!! Here, lemme pose for you real quick so you can change that thing.”

Although it does flashbang you in the middle of the night when you turn on your phone, the brightness of the picture vaporising your eyes in an instant. It’s not the most pleasant thing to look at first thing in the morning but you still think he looks kinda cute in the pic.

— Choosing you as his wallpaper. —

He was careful to choose the prettiest picture of you he can find and the proceed to show it off to everyone he meets. Thanos even showed you off to Nam-gyu multiple times, forgetting that he already showed his friend the same picture four times now. Nam-gyu is already totally looking forward to next week when Thanos shows you off again.

Your boyfriend grins like a child whenever he glances at his phone for too long, falling in love with your picture all over again.

He changes his wallpaper every week so he always has something cute to look at after performing at another underground club or while doing whatever, sometimes getting distracted from searching for a certain app and instead ending up scrolling through either your social media account or his photo library to search for more pics of you.

Whenever you catch Thanos grin at his phone again, your first instinct is to glance over his shoulder to check what exactly he is looking at, but he immediately closes his phone when you do. At first you thought he might be looking at some random girl’s profile or whatever, but when you open it up and find yourself staring back, you’re kind of surprised to be honest.

Although, he always denies that he really cares about his wallpaper. Your boyfriend is totally choosing it at random and totally does not match his lock screen with his homescreen and mostly chooses pictures of you two together, you kissing his cheek or him holding you. Not at all!

Nam-gyu // Player 124

— Choosing you as your wallpaper. —

You choose a rather cute picture as your wallpaper. You took it during one of your first dates where you dragged him to a festival that was being held near your home, dragging Nam-gyu there against his will. Back then he had shorter hair, wore his glasses more frequently. Back then he was a little shy believe it or not, at least when it came to romance.

He used more before he met you, being around alcohol and drugs at all times due to his occupation. It kind of came with his job and the circle of friends he was around, so before meeting you, there was barely any day he wasn’t high or having a hangover from some random drug.

Nam-gyu never noticed you had this picture as your phone wallpaper until he accidentally grabbed your phone, thinking it was his. Seeing this picture in particular gave him a brief jumpscare.

You took this picture after he managed to scrap out the star shape out of the sugar cookie he bought from a random stand during the festival. His hair was shorter back then and he wore his glasses more frequently, the mask a reminder of how times were 5 years ago. He struggled staying clean during that time and always felt like shit wich is why he didn’t want to go to the festival in the first place.

He didn’t even know you took this picture of him despite him fully looking at the camera. A small smile spread on his face at the thought of you really choosing a picture like this as your phone wallpaper.

Quickly putting your phone down, Nam-gyu quickly played off his reaction as he hard you come into the room.

“I’m smiling about nothing, shaddup. Go back to wherever you came from.”

With a dismissive hand wave, he tried to shoo you away. His attempts were futile as you instead pull him into a clingy hug, instead demanding cuddles instead. Who was he to deny your wish?

— Choosing you as his wallpaper. —

Nam-gyu likes taking 0.5x zoom pictures of you from above and choosing them as his phone wallpaper, pushing you away as you try to protest and stop him from putting them as his wallpaper because seriously, he can literally choose any other pic!

You can hear quiet, evil “hehe”s from the corner of the room whenever you two are together and he turns on his phone, briefly turning it around so you can see what he was giggling so stupidly at, only for him to giggle harder at the sight of your unamused face.

Even if he mainly chooses those pictures as his phone wallpaper to annoy you, he likes having a stupid picture of you always available to him.

Some shitty guy searching for a fight at the club? Quick glance at your face at a 0.5x zoom makes him crack a smile right after. Thanos called him Nam-su, Gyu-nam or literally anything else but his name again? Turning his phone on lightens his mood immediately.

Sure, a flattering or cute picture of you would have the same effect on him, but this is much funnier in his opinion.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

HAPPY LATE VALETINES DAYYYYYYY!!!! Since tumblr limits your tags to 30 tags per post I always have trouble tagging all of the Squid Game men, so I decided to split this one prompt into two posts. If this gets enough attention / love, I’ll post a part 2 with Dae-ho, Gi-hun and In-ho! Also, thank you for requesting, I needed a break from writing my smut draft 😭

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[aashi-heartfilia]

The hypocrisy of Jinshi and MaoMao

*light novel spoilers*

I just love how hypocritical MaoMao's nature is. She yells at Jinshi for being a 'Masochist' and yet we see that she's no different. Now, by definition Masochist is a person who drives sexual gratification from their own pain and humiliation, plus it relates to Jinshi's tendency to do self harm (like burning his skin with a brand)

And what is MaoMao's most favourite thing in this world?

POISON

She literally takes pleasure in consuming it and no one can convince me otherwise. Plus she uses dangerous plants and animals and snakes whatnot in the name of her so-called experiments. Her dad may call her a 'mad Scientist' but that is a direct indication of self harm.

And she calls Jinshi a Masochist.

I mean, think about it! The amount of anxiety she gives to Jinshi! She came prepared with a vomit inducing medicine but even she had no idea whether it would work or not. She was just hoping it would work in the salt chapter.

And the same goes for her hand, on which she has conducted countless experiments. One flower even burned her skin and its marks never left her skin. She said it was all for her hobby. What kind of weird hobby is that? Maybe, our little adorable mad scientist is just like that.

One brands his own skin, while the other takes heavenly pleasure in consuming poison.

So my point is, Jinshi and MaoMao are not that different as one might think they are and that's why their dynamic works so well.

Let's look at the excerpts from volume 5:

She didn’t know how long they sat that way. All she knew was that Jinshi was looking down at her with a faintly triumphant expression, as if he saw that the breath had reached every corner of her body now. He wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she struggled to breathe. It was then that Maomao felt a flash of intense anger. “I said that if you were going to kill me, you should do it with poison,” she told him. “I refuse to let you poison yourself,” Jinshi said, his fingers tracing her lips. “You can’t pretend you didn’t know that you were one of the candidates. As much as I’m sure you’d like to.” He wasn’t done, either: “Who was that man, anyway? I’m sure you’re not a dancer.” So he had been watching them! “I was just paying for my drink,” Maomao said. “It didn’t cost much.” She tried to look away, but with his hand on her head, she really couldn’t.

Jinshi just choked her and yet he refuses to let MaoMao poison herself. A lot of people misinterpret this scene, and don't like it all that much, saying it was just fanservice stuff but this is how I see it: Jinshi wasn't trying to kill MaoMao, he was just trying to make MaoMao submit to him for once (even if the way he did it was very wrong, but guess he's kinky like that). MaoMao is actively trying to harm herself and Jinshi loves MaoMao a lot, he cannot just let her kill herself.

It was more about him trying to exert his dominance in their weirdish - complicated relationship and that also backfires on him as we see in the next volume that MaoMao escapes Jinshi's grasps using Pairin's techniques.

And then they both continue to avoid each other in the entire next volume! Because they both realised that they have crossed boundaries.

They both are hypocrites.

And they both refuse to accept their feelings.

In one of the later volumes, she gives Jinshi a piece of her mind on how he should tell her everything clearly, unequivocally, what he feels, and he literally declares that "he will make her his wife", which is nice and all but look at the wording MaoMao used here....

Excerpts from LN Vol 7, chapter 19 called "A man and a woman play the game"

"You’re forever telling me I need to use my words, Master Jinshi, but are you in any position to criticize? Everything you say to me, everything you do, it’s like it’s calculated to save you from ever having to actually say what you mean! To make me figure it all out! You know, you remind me of someone. You act exactly like a man who used to come by our brothel all the time. He was in love with one of the girls, but he would never just come out and say it. He thought it should be obvious from the way he acted. He was so sure he had a good thing going with this woman that he never sent her so much as a letter. I remember how forlorn he looked when someone else swooped in and snatched her away! He kept coming to the brothel after that—to get drunk and whine to the ladies. Well, in my opinion, he could have avoided all that heartbreak if he’d told the woman how he felt. Clearly, unequivocally, so that she knew where they stood. It was the least he could have done!”

Everything came out in a torrent. She felt like she’d said it all in one breath. It was strange, she thought, to hear so many words come out of her own mouth. She was mystified. Jinshi was no less startled, but the shock soon left his face, replaced by something else. He got up off the bed and stared down at Maomao.

Shit. Now I’ve done it. She’d given him a piece of her mind, and he was about to give her one back.

“So I should be clear, should I? Unequivocal? I should say what I mean? If I did, would you actually listen to me? Is that what you’re telling me? I’m going to hold you to that! Right this minute. I’ll say it all. Don’t plug your ears—listen to me!” He grabbed her hands as she was in the process of trying to put her fingers in her ears. He took a breath. He was looking at Maomao, but somehow he seemed almost embarrassed. Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao! Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”

It's one heck of a chapter and I suggest you give it a go! The title of the chapter says "A man and a woman play the game" as if to emphasize the very fact that both Jinshi and MaoMao are playing the game.

Jinshi has never confessed his true feelings before this chapter and only implied that he wanted to make MaoMao his wife.

The implications were heavy though on Jinshi's part, and as smart as MaoMao is, anyone would have guessed that MaoMao was one of the candidates for Jinshi's consort. Even the clothes she received (the ones she wore to the banquet) were also provided by Jinshi along with the hairpin. It is never stated outright but seeing as the hairpin was from Jinshi, the clothes are also implied to be the same.

More or less she's always deliberately ignoring the possibility of having anything to do with him, that is more than professional. Some may call it denial, I call it dense. Maybe, to some extent, she herself is not aware of her feelings because she never lets herself feel anything.

Even Suiren pointed it out pretty early in the manga, that maybe it's MaoMao's way of being reserved. We need to keep in mind that MaoMao is an unreliable narrator and it's more of what she does, rather than what she says that makes a difference.

Even in the chapter that I have quoted above, she had every reason to leave Jinshi, she wasn't working for him after all. But she stayed to make tea for him, even after the fact that she had a long day too. She was almost just as exhausted as Jinshi and yet she was there preparing medicinal tea, so that he could get a better sleep.

Maybe she herself is yet to realise just how deep her feelings run. Till vol 12 she seems to have accepted them, but she still is yet to acknowledge their depth. Maybe it's because of her childhood.

It's not a traumatic backstory but MaoMao had a sad childhood nonetheless....

She was raised by her grand uncle and her real father was eccentric, who scared her. Her mother must also appear to be kind of demonic to her, since she was desperate enough to cut MaoMao's Pinky finger and send it to Lahan. So it's safe to say that MaoMao never received proper parental affection. And adding to the fact that, a brothel is not exactly an ideal place for raising a child.... especially when the birth of MaoMao was the one thing that brought the brothel to its knees...even if being born wasn't her choice.

Plus MaoMao stated it herself that when she was a baby, no one would come to sooth her until their work was finished, implying that even if MaoMao and her brothel sisters are close, they are not that close. A mother's love is different and she never received it. No one can love you more than your mother and MaoMao was deprived of that. She soon realised that no one was coming. Life is hard and she has no choice but to face it!

So, she got interested in poison.

Maybe she doesn't love herself or her life as much as she says / pretends she does. She's always like "yeah, I would very much like my head to be with my body" and "if I stay low profile maybe I can survive here" etc but maybe deep down that's not the case. Maybe that's why she loves poison so much. The implications are crazy.

And to break MaoMao's shell, Jinshi has no choice but to be a bit more forceful at times? At least that's how I interpret that choking scene. Jinshi was angry at MaoMao because she deliberately suggested him to marry consort Rishu and danced with Rikuson.

Even if Jinshi never said it outright, he was giving hints the entire time.

But well the tables turned and MaoMao topped him instead, lol (vol 7) and later we even see that our little stray cat has accepted Jinshi and she's ready to be in a relationship with him (vol 12).

Plus she is intrigued by the process of birth (she wants to eat her baby's placenta, it's kind of uggghhh.... but anyways, that MaoMao we're talking about, she's just weird that way)

Maybe not after too long she'll realise that if she has to give birth, she can only have it with Jinshi and no one else.

~Sunshine

[taurasiluvr]

BABY IT AIN'T REALLY CHEATING IF HE DON'T SEE ── BUECKERS⁵

how you can help palestine prequel part three

★ based on dope love by gucci mane. you have an annoying boyfriend who always seems to be jealous of paige. and you've never even given him a reason to not trust you . . . of course not!

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. smut with a little plot, cheating (on irrelevant bf), asshole!paige, fingering, exhibitionism (sorta if that's what you can even call it).

 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 3.6k

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p

"you're embarrassing me," the words came out of your mouth, your tone annoyed as you glared up at your boyfriend. you couldn't believe that he asked paige for a 1v1 – and on top of that, he lost.

now he was acting all pissy, pacing back and forth on the court with his hands on his hips. paige, your best friend since forever, stood a few feet away, trying to hide her smirk. obviously, she shouldn't be intimidated by your boyfriend, who was supposed to be confident and supportive, not a sore loser.

"maybe if you hadn't underestimated her," you continued, your voice cutting through his grumbling. "you know how good she is, she's literally d1."

paige smirked slightly as she shrugged, taking a sip out of the red solo cup. "it's just a game, guys. it's not a big deal,"

your boyfriend shot her a glare, then turned to you. "why are you taking her side?"

"cus you're acting like a damn child," you snapped back. "it's not her fault you lost."

your boyfriend’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red. he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his hands still on his hips. the music and laughter from the party around you seemed to fade into the background as his eyes searched yours for any sort of validation.

"i just... didn't think she'd take it so seriously," he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual confidence.

paige chuckled softly, shaking her head. "i didn't take it seriously, man. it's just a game," she repeated, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement as she glanced at you, licking her lips slightly.

"just a game?" he repeated as he glared at the blonde. "i just got beat by a girl! i'm gonna get absolutely flamed in the groupchat,"

"hey, she's also d1! you don't even play basketball," you retorted, feeling your frustration rise. "it's not like you lost to someone off the street. paige is amazing at this."

"whatever," he muttered, looking away and crossing his arms. "still feels like shit, specially cause you're my girl and shit,"

paige raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the interaction more than she should. "dude, it's just a game. and besides, who cares what your friends think? they'll get over it."

"easy for you to say," he snapped back, his voice growing louder as he began walking toward her. "you didn't just embarrass yourself."

you stepped between them, your patience wearing thin. "enough. you're acting like a sore loser and it's not a good look."

he glared at you, the hurt evident in his eyes. "why are you always defending her? it's like you take her side over mine every fuckin' time."

"because you're acting ridiculous!" you shot back. "paige is my best friend, and you're being unfair to her and to me. this has nothing to do with sides and more to do with you and your weird competition with her."

he clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking back and forth between you and paige. "weird competition? baby, it's obvious she has a thing for you, i mean jesus-"

you immediately let out a groan. "are we really gonna talk about this now, again? i told you-"

"i don't care, she obviously does!" he finally snapped. you grabbed his arm as he continued shouting about whatever he thinks is going on between you the blonde.

paige watched as you dragged your boyfriend to the side, letting out an amused laugh as she shook her head. she went back inside to get a refill, finding aubrey and nika.

"you gotta stop playing with him," nika stifled a laugh as she glanced outside, watching you and your boyfriend laughing. "i feel bad. we all watched him get absolutely obliterated by you."

aubrey laughed, nodding. "that was so fucking embarrassing, my god. i got an ick and i don't even like him."

paige shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. "can't help that i'm good at basketball. and it's not like i'm doing it on purpose. he's the one who keeps trying to prove himself."

nika shook her head, still grinning. "well, he's definitely not doing himself any favors."

aubrey took a sip from her cup, raising an eyebrow. "you think she's actually gonna stay with him much longer? i mean, look at them."

they all glanced outside where you were still talking animatedly with your boyfriend. his face was red with frustration, while yours was a mix of exasperation and annoyance.

paige sighed, her expression softening a bit. "nah, probably. she deserves someone who doesn't get all insecure and jealous over nothing."

aubrey and nika exchanged looks, their faces entertained. nika spoke up, "paige we're not dumb, we know you've fucked before."

paige shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "yeah well... they were on break," she look a sip of her drink as she glanced up at her friends, their expressions unconvinced.

nika raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "on a break, huh? and does he know about this?"

paige hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "nah, he doesn't."

nika let out a low whistle. "that's risky, paige. he looks like the type to not mind... you know, beating your ass."

paige laughed as she shrugged. "yeah and he's also like, 5'8."

"if he tried, he'd get humbled," aubrey glanced toward her blonde friend, a smirk playing on her lips. "again," she added.

paige chuckled, her confidence unwavering. "exactly. i'm not too worried about him. besides, it's not like it was a regular thing. it was a one-time thing."

nika leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "still, you should be careful. if he finds out, things could get messy."

paige nodded, acknowledging the risk. "yeah, but it's done, and i can't undo it, i just have to handle things as they come."

aubrey took a sip from her drink, her eyes glinting with mischief. "you know, if you play your cards right, you might not have to worry about him for much longer."

"yeah, i know," she smirked as she glanced at you, you were still arguing with your boyfriend. "i know,"

as they continued talking, you and your boyfriend reentered the house, your faces still showing signs of the recent argument. paige watched as you tried to shake off the tension, joining your friends and attempting to immerse yourself in the party's atmosphere.

nika leaned in, whispering to paige, "think she'll be okay?"

Paige nodded, her eyes following you as you made your way to the group. "she's a big girl, i don't think she cares as much she pretends to."

you approached, giving paige a grateful smile. "hey, guys. sorry about that."

aubrey waved it off, her demeanor light and carefree. "no worries. we're just glad you're back."

nika chimed in, "yeah, we missed you. come on, let's have some fun."

you felt a wave of relief wash over you as your friends welcomed you back with open arms. paige stayed close, her presence a steady comfort. the rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and camaraderie, the earlier tension fading into the background.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

"and he's so damn clingy, it gets on my nerves," you resisted an eyeroll as you spoke, doing your night time routine in the foggy mirror. paige stood behind you, her hands on your hips and her chin on your shoulder, watching you through the reflection.

"yeah?" she mumbled as you nodded. her hair was wet from the shower, her eyes were red from the exhaustion of the whole day but right now – she didn't feel a tinge of weariness.

you sighed, putting down your toothbrush and meeting paige's eyes in the mirror. "yeah, it’s like he always needs to know where i am, what i’m doing, who i’m with. It’s suffocating."

paige grip on your hips tightened slightly, her presence grounding you. "sounds exhausting," she murmured, her voice gentle. "you deserve to feel free, not like you’re constantly under surveillance."

you nodded, leaning back into her embrace. "exactly. and tonight... all that jealousy over a basketball game? it's just too much."

paige pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, her breath warm against your skin. "you deserve better than that. someone who trusts you and supports you, not someone who’s always questioning you."

you turned to face her, her hands sliding around to rest on the small of your back. "i know. it’s just hard. we've been together for a while, and i don’t wanna hurt him. but i can’t keep going like this."

paige's eyes softened, her thumb brushing gently against your side as her hands slid down them. "you have to take care of yourself first. it’s not selfish to want to be happy."

you smiled as her eyes dilated, her tongue sticking out to wet her lips. "he needs to trust you, cause... you know, you are," paige's voice came out teasing.

you let out a playful scoff as you pushed her away, a smirk playing on your lips. "gonna bring that up again, p?"

"what?" she laughed as her hands made their way back to your hips. "really gonna tell that i didn't rock your world? you were crying and everything, my ego's never gonna that go."

"i know," you felt your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping up your neck. "don't need to remind me every chance you get."

paige's laughter was warm and genuine as she pulled you closer again, her forehead resting against yours. "just making sure you remember,"

you rolled your eyes, but your smile widened. "how could i forget? you never let me."

"and i never will," you turned back around, continuing your routine. "i still think about it, you know?"

paige's smirk widened as she saw the seriousness in your expression through the foggy reflection. "yeah?"

"yeah," you repeated as you met her eyes through the reflection. "all the time."

there was a moment of silence as you continued your routine, paige was lost in thought as she zoned out. "does he fuck you like i do?"

the question came out of nowhere and you almost choked on the mouthwash. you spit out and paige watched your expression carefully. the air in the bathroom seemed to thicken as you processed her words, unsure of how to respond.

paige's gaze held yours steadily, her expression unreadable yet intense. she seemed to be searching for something in your reaction, her smirk fading into a more serious demeanor.

"no, he doesn't."

paige's smirk immediately came back with the answer, her hands pulling you into her chest. "yeah, i knew that."

she didn't any more of an answer, her lips found your shoulder as she began kissing up to your neck. as her lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, your head spun with a whirlwind of emotions. the familiarity of her touch, coupled with the depth of your connection, ignited a fire within you that burned brighter than ever before.

paige's hands roamed gently over your back, her touch leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake.

her breath tickled your skin as she whispered against your ear, her voice husky with desire. "gonna do you so good, baby,"

as paige’s breath sent shivers down your spine, her words were a promise, igniting a flame of anticipation within you. you turned in her embrace, your eyes meeting hers with a mix of longing and uncertainty. paige's gaze softened, her fingers trailing lightly up your arms to cup your face.

“i’ve missed you,” she murmured, her thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek.

“i’ve missed you too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

the tension between you was palpable, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging in the air. paige leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that sent a rush of warmth through your body. you melted into her, your hands finding their way to her damp hair, pulling her closer.

paige's kiss deepened, her hands sliding down your back to grip your hips, anchoring you to her. the taste of mint lingered on your lips from the mouthwash, mingling with the familiar flavor of her.

with a gentle push, paige guided you back against the sink, her lips never leaving yours. her hands explored your body with a familiarity that made your heart race, every touch a reminder of the history you shared. as her kisses trailed down your neck, you let out a soft moan, your fingers tangling in her hair.

“oh p,” you breathed, your voice a mix of need and desperation.

she paused, lifting her head to meet your gaze, her eyes dark with desire. “tell me what you want, baby.”

“want you,” you confessed, your cheeks flushing with the raw honesty of your words.

paige's lips curved into a satisfied smile, her hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist. “you’re going to have me, princess.”

with a swift motion, she lifted you into her arms as she carried you to your bed. her mouth claimed yours again, the kiss hungry and demanding. your fingers fumbled with the hem of her shirt, desperate to feel more of her as she dropped you on the bed.

paige broke the kiss long enough to pull her shirt over her head, her eyes never leaving yours. her bare chest pressed against yours as she kissed you again, her hands working to slide off your shorts. you arched into her touch, the sensation of her hands on you sending waves of pleasure through your body.

as your shorts hit the floor, paige's fingers found their way to your core, teasing you through the fabric of your underwear. you gasped, your hips bucking against her hand, craving more. paige's smirk returned, her thumb circling your clit with agonizing slowness.

she pushed you further up the bed, her body following closely as she settled between your legs. paige's eyes never left yours, her gaze intense and filled with desire. her fingers continued their slow, torturous teasing, making you writhe beneath her.

“paige, please,” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.

her smirk softened into a sweet smile, and she leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “love hearing you beg,” she murmured against your mouth before trailing kisses down your neck, her hands slipping beneath your underwear to finally touch your bare skin.

with a gentle but firm touch, she slid your underwear down, her fingers finding their way to your wetness. you moaned, your head falling back as she began to pleasure you, her movements deliberate and skilled. paige knew exactly how to drive you insane, her fingers curling inside you in a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge.

you let out a shuddering breath, your body arching into her touch. she set a steady rhythm, her thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts of her fingers. every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, each one more intense than the last.

your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as she kissed her way down your body. her lips left a trail of fire on your skin, each touch igniting a deeper desire within you. when she reached your breasts, her mouth closed over one nipple, sucking and nibbling gently.

the dual sensations of her mouth and her fingers had you spiraling quickly towards the edge. your breaths came in short gasps, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

then, your phone began buzzing next to you. you let out an annoyed huff – you already knew who it was. you chose to ignore it, but paige had other plans.

"answer it, princess," she mumbled as she sat up, meeting your gaze.

you stared at her, bewildered, your body still trembling from her touch. "paige," you whispered, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your voice.

paige's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "answer it," she repeated, her voice low and commanding. "want him to hear how good i make you feel."

your heart raced, both from the lingering pleasure and the audacity of her request. with trembling hands, you reached for the phone, your eyes never leaving paige's. she watched you intently, her fingers still moving slowly inside you, maintaining the agonizing pleasure.

you hit the answer button, bringing the phone to your ear. "hello?" you managed to say, your voice shaky.

your boyfriend's voice came through the line, filled with concern and irritation. "where are you? why haven't you answered my texts?"

paige's smirk widened, and she pressed a kiss to your shoulder, her fingers quickening their pace slightly. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, your head falling back against the pillow.

"'m... busy," you replied, your voice strained.

"busy? doin' what?" he demanded, suspicion lacing his words.

paige’s other hand moved to tease your nipple, her thumb flicking over it with expert precision. you let out a soft gasp, unable to hold it back. "just... with friends, we're at my..." you managed to say, your breath hitching. "apartment,"

there was a pause on the other end of the line, your boyfriend clearly picking up on the unusual tone in your voice. "you okay? you sound... different."

paige's lips curled into a wicked smile, her fingers curling inside you, hitting just the right spot. you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, your body arching into her touch. "oh fuck," you let out before you sighed, putting a hand over your mouth.

"i'm fine," you lied, your voice trembling. "just... having a good time."

Your boyfriend’s voice grew more insistent. "where are you? i want to see you."

paige leaned closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, "tell him you're with me."

you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the conversation despite the overwhelming sensations. "'m with paige," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"paige?" he repeated, his tone a mix of confusion and frustration. "what the hell is going on?"

"nothing!" you shouted, the frustration overtaking your senses. "my god, let me fucking breathe. we're just watching a movie and we're tired, can't get a second alone,"

paige's smirk grew as she listened to your conversation, her fingers still teasing you, maintaining a torturous pace that kept you on the edge. she nibbled gently on your neck, her breath warm against your skin, and you fought to keep your voice steady.

on the other end of the line, your boyfriend’s frustration was palpable. “why didn’t you just say that? you’ve been acting so weird lately.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to focus on the words and not the intense pleasure paige was giving you. “i’m not acting weird. just need some space sometimes.”

“space? is that what you call ignoring my calls and hanging out with paige all the time?” he snapped.

paige fingers quickened slightly, pushing you closer to the edge, beginning to completely finger-fuck you. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, your hips bucking involuntarily. “’m not ignoring you,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to sound convincing. “i think i just… need a break.”

“a break?” he echoed, his voice growing louder. “what kind of break?”

paige leaned in, her voice a whisper in your ear. “tell him you’re taking a break from him.”

you swallowed hard, the words sticking in your throat. “think we need a break,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“what?” he shouted, disbelief and anger mingling in his tone. “are you fucking serious?”

“yeah,” you said more firmly, finding your resolve.

he began shouting but you were too engulfed in her fingers, your breaths coming out in shudders. the phone fell out of your hand as you moaned, your back arching into her touch.

paige chose that moment to push you over the edge, her fingers and lips working in perfect harmony to send you spiraling into a powerful orgasm. you cried out, your body shaking with the force of it, the annoyed shouts still coming from the phone.

paige caught the phone, her eyes locking with yours as she brought it to her ear. "she busy right now," she said, her tone unapologetic and firm. "she'll call you in the morning,"

with that, she ended the call, tossing the phone aside as she gathered you in her arms. you were still trembling, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. paige's touch was gentle now, soothing as she held you close.

"you gonna call him in the morning?" she teased as you laid on her chest. you stifled a laugh as you shook your head.

"probably, he's probably crying right now."

she shrugged, "i would too if i lost a bad bitch like you,"

you couldn't help but smile at her words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "you're ridiculous," you murmured, nuzzling closer into her embrace.

paige's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, her touch comforting and tender. "yeah, but you love it," she replied, her voice soft.

you sighed contentedly, letting the calm after the storm wash over you. "yeah, i do."

you stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up with you, and your eyes grew heavy.

"get some sleep," paige murmured, her voice a gentle lullaby. "we'll figure everything out in the morning."

you nodded sleepily, feeling safe and secure in her arms. "goodnight, p."

"goodnight, beautiful," she whispered, holding you close as you drifted off to sleep.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[imaginedisish]

Poker Face (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: OKAY! Here is the strip poker fic! This is not a request, but there are a few requests I really like, so I'm most likely going to write one of those next! Could not waste the opportunity to use Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" as the inspiration here. I hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: You and Logan are alone in the mansion for the evening, and after a few drinks, your game of Blackjack turns into strip poker...

Warnings: 18+ Sexually Explicit Content MINORS DNI!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV, multiple orgasms, softdom!Logan(?), cocky!Logan, alcohol consumption (neither reader nor Logan get drunk), feelings, friends to lovers, strip poker!, f!reader/afab reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors (proofread this one between weird times), I think that's it!

Word Count: 4,025 how did I do that???

The house is empty. Quiet. It’s so strange, almost eerie, but honestly welcome. You can’t remember the last time you were ever so alone. Not lonely—alone. Comfortably and peacefully alone. 

Scott, Jean, and Storm took most of the children off on an overnight camping trip, while Hank, Kurt, and Charles were on a mission with some of the older mutants. Rogue and Gambit were out somewhere, leaving you and Logan in the mansion alone. 

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, back to the window, looking out at the empty room. Everything is untouched—neatly put away. You know things will be back to normal by tomorrow afternoon—dishes in the sink, shoes all over the floor, kids shouting down the halls. But for now, there’s nothing. No disruptions. No—

“Oh, hey,” Logan mumbles, stepping through the doorway and into the kitchen. “Didn’t know you were in here.”

You smile, trying your best not to let your eyes flit up and down his body. He’s wearing one of his tight beaters and a pair of jeans. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him—if you said that being alone in the mansion with him wasn’t somewhat overwhelming. You’ve wanted Logan since the day you joined the X-Men, just a few months ago. And while you’ve become close friends, you know it’ll never progress further than that. 

“Wanna join me?” You ask, tilting your head to the chair across from you. 

Logan smirks and nods. He walks to the fridge, swings open the French doors, and reaches inside. “Got something for us, actually,” he says, glasses clinking as he rummages through the fridge. He pulls out whatever he’s looking for, turning around, and revealing a 6-pack of beer. 

“No way!” You shout excitedly. “Logan Howlett, breaking the rules as always.”

He sits down across from you, placing the beers in the center of the table. “You know you love it,” he husks, grinning widely. 

You can feel the heat rising to your chest. He’s right. “I do,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t catch on to the implications of your words. If he does, he doesn’t show it. He grabs a beer by its neck, pops off the cap with ease, and holds the bottle out towards you. Your fingers brush his as you take the beer from him, his hands warm and surprisingly soft. The contact is fleeting, effervescent. You wish he could touch you again. 

You bring the bottle to your lips, the cold beer a distraction from your all-too-hot thoughts. You watch as Logan pulls a bottle for himself, his muscles flexing as he removes the cap. He brings the bottle to his mouth and knocks it back, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 

“So…” You trail off, doing your all to ignore the way his tongue swipes across his upper lip as he places the beer back down on the table. You take another swig of your beer, ready to down the entire thing just to give yourself the confidence to say something. “D-did you wanna do anything?” You take another big gulp. 

Logan smiles. “Not sure,” he says, taking a sip. “You got anything in mind, princess?”

Your heart flutters at the familiar nickname. You rub a finger up and down the beer bottle, streaking the condensation. “We could play a game,” you offer, your eyes finding his. “Cards?”

Logan hums in affirmation as he knocks his beer bottle back again. He’s already practically finished. “You wanna play Blackjack?” He asks, taking a final sip before standing up and walking over to the kitchen island. He rifles through a couple of drawers before finding a pack of cards. He sits back down across from you, grabbing another beer and cracking it open. 

“Sure,” you answer, watching as Logan slips the cards from their box and expertly shuffles them. He thumbs the cards, dexterously letting them slide through his long fingers. He deals you the first card, face up, and then does the same for himself. You have a king of hearts, and Logan has a five of diamonds. He deals again, and you’re given a nine of clubs. It’s a good hand. Better than Logan’s, so far. He deals himself another card, looking at it briefly before putting it face down on the table. 

He smirks up at you. “Hit, or stay?” He asks.

You roll your eyes. “Stay, obviously.” He shakes his head, smiling as he deals himself another card. 

“Well, princess,” he says, showing you all three of his cards now. Five of diamonds, queen of hearts, and six of spades. “Looks like I won.” He’s smug as he grabs your cards and shuffles them back into the deck. 

You scoff and let him deal you in again.

You’ve only had two drinks, but there’s something about being with Logan that makes you feel like you’re drunk. You’ve been playing Blackjack for almost forty-five minutes now, round after round. Despite this being a game of chance, it seems like Logan wins far more often than you do. 

And yet, something gives you the sudden confidence to up the ante. 

“Lo?” You ask, taking a swig of your third beer, now. He looks up at you and hums, dealing the next round. You lean across the table. “What if we…” you trail off. “Made this more exciting?” 

Logan looks across the table under hooded eyes. You can sense the sudden shift in his expression, and you know he can sense the suggestiveness in your voice. The corner of his mouth turns up—a sly, half smile. “Exciting how, princess?”

You’re nervous now—all talk and no action. “Maybe we could bet somehow?” You offer, but Logan knows that’s not truly what you mean. He cocks his head, eyes narrowing.

And then he says exactly what you’re thinking—as if he can read your mind. “What about strip poker?” 

Your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. Logan is focused on you, still folding the cards into each other. You finally nod your head. “Sure, sounds fun.” 

Logan quickly deals the first cards. You have an ace, and Logan has a ten of diamonds. He places another card down for you—seven of clubs—and another face down for himself. 

“Hit or stay?” He asks, his eyes set on yours. He’s leaning closer to you than he was before. 

You take a deep breath. “Stay,” you answer, your voice trembling ever so slightly now. 

Logan shakes his head. “Wouldn’t have mattered anyway,” he says, flipping over his second card. It’s an ace of hearts. He collects your cards without another word, but his eyes are still glued to you. 

You bite your lip nervously and decide to tug away your sweatshirt. You’re wearing a thin tank top underneath, much to your relief. Logan’s eyes flit up and down your body, drinking you in. 

You drape the sweatshirt across the back of your chair, your eyes narrowing in Logan’s direction. “You have to be cheating,” you accuse sarcastically.

Logan grins ear to ear as he deals again, looking down at the table. “Just lucky,” he says, the words stopping your heart. “Very lucky.” He looks back up at you. Your breath catches in your throat. 

There’s a four of hearts in front of you this time. You roll your eyes at the low card. Logan—naturally—has a jack of diamonds. He places another card in front of you, a nine of clubs, and another face down for himself.

“Hit,” you mutter before he can ask the question. He places a seven of diamonds in front of you and shakes his head. He reveals his other card: an eight of spades. You smile widely, self-satisfied as you grab your beer by the neck and take a long swig. You lean back in your chair, watching as Logan pulls his beater up and over his head. 

He’s perfect, you think to yourself. Sure, he’s all chiseled abs and muscles, but he truly is beautiful. And you hope he knows it. “Happy now?” He asks, dealing the next hand. 

Heat spreads across your chest and down to your stomach. Your clothes feel tight, itchy. You try your best to ignore the way Logan makes you feel—to ignore the way you long to press your thighs together for some sort of friction. You—very obviously—are failing horrifically. 

“Hit, or stay?” Logan asks. You’re so distracted by him that you completely missed the deal. You look down to see an eight of hearts and a six of diamonds. Logan has a king of spades face up, and his other card face down. 

You raise your eyebrows, mulling it over in your mind. “Hit,” you finally spit out, and Logan deals you a ten of clubs. 

Oh. 

“Well shit,” you mumble. Logan chuckles as you stand up, struggling to decide what to take off. You look down at your athletic shorts and decide those are the next to go. You slip them down your legs and place them on the back of the chair with your sweatshirt. 

Logan’s throat bobs as his eyes trail up and down your legs. He isn’t laughing anymore; there’s something serious in his eyes, something dark. He works his jaw as you sit back down across from him. He looks pained as he deals the next hand. 

You cock your head to the side as he places a queen of hearts in front of you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

“’M’fine,” he answers curtly, drawing an ace of diamonds for himself. He quickly places another card down for you—a five of spades—and another face down for him. 

But you can tell there’s something wrong. It’s the way he moves, the way he fidgets in his seat. You reach out tentatively across the table, your fingers brushing against his. “Logan,” you soothe. “We don’t have to play if you don’t want to.” 

His eyes find yours, and he smiles softly, looking at your cards and then flipping his over. He got it. Twenty-one. Blackjack. “I think this game is almost over,” he says, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

You roll your eyes and grab the hem of your tank top, slowly pulling it up your body and over your head. Now all that’s left is your sports bra and your panties. You look across the table, and there’s Logan, eyes locked on you. “One more round?” You ask. 

But he ignores you, pushing out his chair, standing up, and walking over to you. “No,” he murmurs. “I think we’re done with the game.” He pulls your chair out from the table and leans down over you, placing his hands on either armrest, caging you in. 

His eyes are dark and filled with lust, his lips just centimeters from yours. Your noses brush, his breath fanning across your cheeks. You can smell him—the pine and musk and tobacco, his shampoo, a hint of mint. 

“L-Lo,” you stutter, your heart beating out of your chest as he leans in closer. There’s something animalistic, something primal about the look in his eyes. 

“I know you want me, pretty girl,” he husks. “Could smell that pussy crying for me before you even took those little shorts off.” 

“I-I,” you stutter, unable to form a coherent thought, no less a sentence. Your thighs rub together involuntarily at Logan’s words, searching for friction, for relief. 

Logan chuckles darkly. “Yeah,” he hums, one hand dropping from the armrest and slipping in between your thighs. “That’s what I thought, princess.” 

He pushes your legs open, his fingertips trailing along your inner thigh, slowly climbing higher. He finally reaches your heat and two of his fingers drag teasingly through your clothed folds, up to your clit. “Haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked,” Logan growls, stroking you through your panties. “Making a mess of the chair, hm?”

“Logan,” you whine, his fingers circling your clit and then pulling away. Before you can protest the loss of contact, he’s hoisting you up and out of the chair, his hands squeezing your ass, holding you tightly in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist and bring your hands to the nape of his neck.

He carries you through the kitchen and into the hallway. He stops in his tracks and pushes your back against the wall, his lips finally finding yours. The kiss is rushed and frantic, like he just has to have you now, like he’s so hungry he’d die if he waited another second. He grinds his hips into yours, his erection straining through his jeans. 

“Need you, darlin’,” Logan mumbles against your lips, his chest heaving in time with yours. “Needed you this whole time.” He finally steps away from the wall and heads towards the stairs. You thread your fingers through Logan’s hair as he bites your lower lip, your pulse point, kissing you anywhere he can as he walks up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

He closes the door with a kick, and strides over to the bed in the center of the room, placing you down in the middle and crawling over you. His lips find yours again, his tongue darting out and sliding over your bottom lip, silently asking to be let inside. How could you ever say no? How could you ever not give him whatever it is he wants?

Logan balances on his forearm as his free hand trails up your body, warm and soft and soothing. He finds the hem of your bra and pulls the fabric over your tits. You arch your back, helping him slip it off the rest of the way. He finds your breasts, massaging gently before teasingly rolling your nipple under his thumb. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he huffs, moving to your other breast, pawing at the flesh, rolling over your nipple again, pinching lightly. His knee is settled between your legs, keeping you spread open for him. Your hips involuntarily rock against him, your needy core sliding up and down his thigh, searching for relief. 

Logan smiles against your lips and swallows your moans with a kiss before his touch suddenly disappears. His knee is no longer between your legs—the delicious friction gone. Your eyes flutter open and closed as he crawls down your body, kissing his way to the hem of your panties. 

“Lo,” you whimper as he places a chaste kiss to your clothed clit. “Please,” you beg, squirming underneath him. 

His arm latches around your waist, holding you down to the mattress while his other hand hooks inside the waistband of your panties. He tugs teasingly, taking his time as he slides your panties down your legs and tosses them off to the side. Logan settles himself between your thighs, his breath fanning against your cunt.

His arm is still firmly pushing you down into the mattress as he brings his face closer to where you need him most. “Wanna taste this pretty pussy, darlin’,” Logan grunts, and his tongue swipes through your folds, dragging across your slit and up to your clit. 

You curse under your breath as Logan licks another long stripe, his tongue finishing with a flick to your clit. “So fucking sweet,” Logan murmurs against you, the bass and vibration of his voice sending a burst of pleasure up your spine. “Knew you’d taste so good, pretty girl.” 

Logan pulls you closer to him, burying his face into your cunt like a man starved. He takes your clit between his lips, sucking roughly. His fingertips slide up your inner thigh, drawing higher and higher until he finds your folds. 

“Such a fucking tease,” Logan mutters, spreading your slick, prodding your entrance. “Using cards as an excuse to take your clothes off for me.” He shoves two fingers deep inside you as his tongue circles your clit. “Wanted me that bad, huh?” You can feel him smiling against you, all smug as he pulls his fingers from your slit and plunges back in. 

“Y-yes,” you stutter. His grip is like iron across your hips, keeping you in place, stopping you from squirming. “Wanted y-you so fucking bad.” 

He pumps his fingers in and out, down to the knuckles as he laps at you. He sucks at your clit again, harder this time. “I know, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, his thumb rubbing against your hip as his thrusts become faster, deeper. You’re already shaking underneath him—a trembling mess. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he coos. 

His tongue flicks your clit, swirling around the bud, adding more pressure with every stroke. Your walls flutter around his fingers, taking him in deeper. “Logan,” you whine, growing closer with every pump. “I-I—”

You’re cut off as he adds a third finger. “That what you needed, princess?” Logan asks, all cocky and self-assured. Your back arches off the mattress and Logan tightens his grip on your hips, holding you down as he devours you. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m finished with you.”

Your muscles clench around him at the words. His teeth graze lightly against your clit as he pulls the bud into his mouth, sucking roughly. “Lo…” You trail off, unable to use any semblance of language to communicate the way he’s making you feel. 

“Taking me so good, darlin’,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you unrelentingly. “Such a good fucking girl.” 

You’re so close, almost at that edge, pleasure burning through your every nerve ending. “’L-Lo I’m so—” you choke out.

“So fucked out that all you can say is my name,” Logan teases, sucking on your clit between sentences. “Wanna feel you come around my fingers.” He pushes himself in deeper. “Wanna taste it.”

“F-fuck,” you stutter, contracting around him uncontrollably. The tension building in your stomach finally snaps, the fire set free to burn through your body. “Logan!” You cry out, chanting his name like it’s a sacred prayer. And maybe it is.  

“I’ve got you,” Logan soothes, his tongue still lapping at you, his fingers still thrusting in and out. “I’m right here, let go for me.” He works you through your orgasm, his pumps slowing down as you ride out your high.

He pulls his fingers from your cunt, but his face doesn’t move. He’s still lapping at you, his tongue swiping through your folds, your slit, up to your clit. He’s drinking you in, savoring the taste of you. 

“Lo,” you whimper, running your hands through his hair, trying to guide him up your body. But he doesn’t budge. He grunts against your core, his tongue dragging through your heat. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

He licks one more long stripe through your folds before finally lifting his head to look up at you. Your release is painted across his lips, glistening in the moonlight. His tongue darts out, licking away the proof of your orgasm. 

“Need me, sweetheart?” He asks, sitting up, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the floor with a clink. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls his zipper down. “Need me to fuck you?” You nod, settling into the pillows at his headboard as he tugs his jeans and boxers down his legs. 

His cock springs free, bouncing against his stomach. You swallow nervously at the size of him. He settles on top of you, balancing on his forearm as he guides his cock to your entrance. 

Logan presses a chaste kiss to your lips as his tip nudges through your folds. “Thought about this for a long time,” he murmurs, the head of his cock bumping against your clit before sliding back down towards your entrance. His lips meet yours again, more hurried and hungry this time. “Always thinking about you.” And then he buries himself deep inside you, down to the hilt. He stalls, unmoving, giving you a moment to adjust to the size of him. He’s stretching you out, working you open. You grab his biceps, searching for purchase. Nothing could have prepared you for this, for the way he fills you up and makes you feel whole. 

“Feels so fucking good,” Logan whispers, pulling out and pushing all the way back in. “So tight, so perfect,” he praises, slowly setting a rhythmic pace, pumping in and out. 

His hand leaves the base of his cock and slips between your bodies, finding your clit—still sensitive from your first orgasm. His thumb strokes soft circles into the bud, drawing a moan from your lips. 

“Y-yes,” you pant as Logan plunges into you, faster and deeper with each thrust. You can feel him throbbing inside you, his cock dragging against your walls. It’s already too much—already more than you can handle. “F-feels so good, Lo.”

His hips snap against yours. “I know it does, pretty girl,” Logan coos, rutting into you. “Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel good.” His words go straight to your core, your muscles contracting around him. He curses under his breath at the feeling, your pussy taking him deeper as he sinks inside you. “Squeezing me already, sweetheart.”

He’s fucking into you, his pace growing reckless and punishing. He adds more pressure to your clit, rubbing harder, faster. You don’t know how much longer you’ll last, not with his lips at the shell of your ear whispering praises. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he husks, his hips rocking against yours. “Taking me so good, doing so well for me.” He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. He swallows your moans with starving, desperate, needy kisses—biting your lips, bruising them. He’s consuming you, taking everything you have to give him. 

He presses his forehead to yours, pounding into you, somehow finding a way to sink deeper inside. Your walls flutter around him, and you know you’re almost there. “Logan,” you croak, pushing your hips into his. 

“F-fuck,” he stammers, his cock twitching inside you, massaging your inner walls. “I know princess, know you’re close.” You can feel his thrusts faltering, growing sloppier. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, pretty girl.” You moan his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, keeping him close as he pumps in and out. “Come for me, darlin’.”

Logan pinches your clit and buries himself deep inside, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you, your walls clenching around him, squeezing him tighter. “Stay,” you whisper, and he knows what you mean—knows exactly what you’re asking for.

He curses under his breath and his head falls to your shoulder as he comes undone, too, filling you up, spilling inside you. Everything is liquid heat. Your muscles contract and relax, your shoulders melting into the mattress. Everything feels hazy as Logan gently strokes your clit, thrusting in and out of you slowly, riding out your orgasms. 

He finally pulls out, wrapping his arms around your back and rolling you over so that you lay on top of his chest. He holds you close, his fingers trailing up and down your back. He kisses the crown of your head. “You okay?” He whispers into the silence of the room. 

“Yeah,” you answer, burying your face into his chest. “’M’perfect.”

He presses another kiss to the top of your head. “Wanted you for so long, princess,” he husks, his voice deep and raspy. 

“Wanted you, too, Lo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest. 

You can hear his heart beating; can hear every breath he takes. You can even hear the smile in his voice. “You have a terrible poker face, you know.”

You laugh softly, lifting your head from his chest. “I think it’s just fine, thank you very much.” He’s smiling down at you, his hair a mess, sweat still on his brow. He’s perfect. So fucking perfect. “And besides, you’re the one who suggested strip poker.”

He shakes his head, tugging you back down to his chest. “Should’ve played it sooner.” You can feel his chuckle reverberate through his lungs. “We can play again if you want…”“…but this time we skip the poker part.”

tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr

[zan0tix]

Any general thoughts on/relating to the Brobot?

Have my half awake scrawlings...

I really love the brobot!!!! People really misconstrue it and also leave it out in a lot of dirkjake talk? Its a big player in not only how dirk expresses his affection/desire towards jake but also in their multi year spanning unspoken game of gay chicken 😭😭(all of dirks splinters are but Not about them rn)

It was sent yknow under the pretense that jake loves wrestling and wished so bad to have somebody he could wrestle with. But at the same time it protects jake from the horrors of hellmurder island (seen before they strife), pushing jake into the Damsel in distress role he wasnt expecting to play even before all the shit in the game, with Dirk being his hero.

Jake says he keeps it on a high difficulty because apparently in the Novice mode he says their interactions become "too tender" and doesnt want to elaborate, Friendly reminder! His convo with jane on the SAME DAY dirk pulled off that big romantic overture and the kiss happens and him and dirk begin "dating".. is the same day he asked jane if it didnt make him weird for wanting to date dirk. And he also says hed joke around with dirk about how theyd soo make a great couple if dirk were a girl haha.

I imagine the brobot and well. Getting physical like that with a robot that supposedly looks like dirk probably gave jake his internal gay awakening at 13 but he just never wanted to actually confront it and instead just wanted to brush past everything 😭😭 (See: every single time sexuality or romance comes up in relation to jake he is literally always thinking about dirk somehow and he never directly talks about his attraction to men or how that reflects/contradicts on his self image of the Movie Star Hero guy)

and jake doesnt actually hate the thing either, he tells jane he thinks it genuinely did improve his fighting capabilities (Which we see it did in collide! he beat basically the whole felt with guns and fisticuffs alone, no hope powers.) Which serves as a pretty evident parallel to dave who also is good at fighting, even if he doesnt want to be. (see dirk + dave convo)

This one comes from hussies authors notes in the aradiabot and equius scene (which equius imagery being invoked with dirk. something i could totally rant about another time haha) but yeah. Jake was being selfish asshat in that log forcing jane into a corner and wringing what he wanted to hear out of her, and also not giving a shit about the brobot (Which served as his protector and only other semblance of human connection since he was 13 and was a BIRTHDAY GIFT FROM DIRK) KILLING ITSELF? But hes so preoccupied talking about dirk. THE REAL DIRK. And immediately after jake loses the dirk splinter that protected him, HE (AND DIRK) CREATE A NEW ONE FOR HIMSELF USING THEIR COMBINED POWERS/?

Hussie is lying.. somebody Does care about dirks feelings. a whole lot to the point they activate their powers unwittingly Because of it. and its jake. but jake just cant admit that himself. (He cannot admit his real feelings until given permission to, dirk would have to concede the game of gay chicken first using his words and not just actions)

ANYWAY. hussie is so right its so easy to get sidetracked times one million talking about this comic. BUT AHH!! BROBOT. his existence.. tragic.. Jakes really smart in knowing that all of dirks splinters enlighten aspects of himself he doesnt oft share, and the brobot served as another dirk action on the pile of dirk actions he engineers to signify his deep immense care for jake, where he lets these grand gestures and implications sit out in the open without ever actually saying what they mean and where his feelings lay.

EVEN IF ITS SUPER OBVIOUS. The d man cant use his big boy words to actually describe his feelings despite how much a yaps! so jake doesnt know if hes even allowed to say anything about his own. Fellas: Is it gay if you labour for supposedly an extended period of time to create a custom robot in your own image to ship in pieces to your best bro guy crush who is HUNDREDS OF YEARS IN THE PAST because you cant be there yourself?

I think this hal message says enough about how bad dirk wished he could visit jake 💀💀

[anonity]

BETTER -- oneshot

been gone for a min for a last min road trip w/ friends for new years :) happy 2025! had this in my drafts after watching the paige ep on flau’jaes podcast

WC: ~1200 summary: paige catches you and your saved basketball edits

the amount of paige edits that popped up on your for-you-page was diabolical. especially considering she was your roommate.

you were waiting for her to return from practice, feet kicked up on the coffee table of your apartment, when the first of the day came up.

originally, you’d justified your ever-growing collection of edits as hype-videos: something you could scroll through before paige’s games to get you in the right mood. for a while, that checked out – you only saved her highlights, quick moving graphics with smooth transitions.

but then it had quickly devolved into what can only be described as an obsessive fan folder, filled with edits so thirsty you think you would actually combust if anyone saw them, let alone paige.

it was bound to happen.

you continued watching edits when the door opened, kept scrolling when it closed, and carried on even as paige leaned curiously on the kitchen counter. its not like she would know who you were watching – hell, you had juju watkins videos coming up on your page every couple days, too. 

this arrangement had worked perfectly for you for months. you got to indulge in your quietest delusions, and your best-friend-turned-roommate could continue on none the wiser. 

until her voice rang out clearly from your phone. you would’ve played it off, really, said it was an interview clip or something, had her voice not immediately been followed by the “or nah” audio. 

mortified did not even begin to describe the feeling clawing into your throat.

you scrolled impossibly fast and began praying. maybe she hadn’t been paying attention. maybe she wasn’t even in the kitchen anymore. maybe you’d imagined the entire thing and paige wasn’t even real and this was all some kind of awful dream you’d wake up from in 3, 2, 1…

“whatcha watchin’?”

you think your soul has left your body. 

paige is sauntering over and looking very smug. you’re wondering how fast you can make it from the couch to the balcony. 

“an interview,” you try anyway, despite the fact that not a single interview in the history of basketball has ever included fucking ty dolla sign.

paige smirks, leaning over the back of the couch. her breath tickles the top of your head and you shiver despite yourself, eyes trained on the tiktok now repeating on your phone – one of those orange muppet videos (pepe? is he supposed to be a shrimp?) stuck on the first slide. really, if it weren’t for the horrors of your current situation, you would find the irony funny. if you survived this event, maybe you would make one. you can see it now. “i’m watching edits of my roommate – my roommate walks in – i have to defend myself to my roommate –” i have to defend myself to my roommate.

“which interview?”

“umm,” you say, eloquently. you can’t think past your orange muppet spiral. “overwatch?”

paige laughs, a noise that distracts you long enough for her to yank your phone away. “overtime?”

shit.

you can barely get out a disdained “paige!” before you hear the audio repeating again. would a fall from the third floor kill you? is it still considered a fall if you jump?

you stop lunging for your phone – maybe you can just play it cool. who cares if theres a paige edit on your FYP? it's only weird if you make it weird. “you act like those don’t pop up on your for you page too.” 

paige shushes you, biting her cheeks in mock-seriousness. she shushes you! the nerve! if you weren’t so mortified you would argue with her! 

but you are mortified, and so you stay quiet.  the silence stretches on and on until your phone also goes silent. the apartment's heating unit is suddenly very loud, and for once you aren’t irritated at the noise – instead, you just think of how much you will actually miss your loud heating unit once paige processes the situation and kicks you out of your apartment in the dead of winter. 

you think it can’t get any worse, until another audio starts playing and a self-satisfied grin stretches across paiges face. “you have like 70 videos in here.”

somebody kill me.

the original silence is filled with mr. lover lover, and there is absolutely no way you can “it’s for the hype” your way out of this. she continues scrolling. you stare helplessly at the floor. after what you can only guess is six or seven incriminating edits, she pauses, her jaw clenching inexplicably. here it comes. 'get out of my apartment' – 'i can’t look at you the same anymore'. you’re so cooked. fried, even.

“whatchu got caitlin saved in here for?”

what?

you must’ve voiced that thought out loud, because she responds. “you got a thing for iowa players too?”

your brows furrow. this was not the direction you thought this would be going in. instead, theres an edge cutting through paige’s words that you can’t quite place. is she still pissed? you let out a nervous laugh. “relax, paige, it’s not like i’m making wedding plans with her.”

paige stiffens. “it’s enough for a save-the-date.”

“paige, it’s like a 30 to 1 ratio.”

“yeah, our points ratio is 30:1 too.”

what the hell? first of all, you watch enough basketball to know that's not true. second of all, again, what the hell? 

“i mean, it’s fine, i get it.” paige shrugs, suddenly uninterested in your phone. she tosses it on the couch and you (slowly) slip it into your pocket before she can change her mind. “i just think it’s funny you watch her when you literally live with someone better.”

“better at what?” paige splutters. “basketball.” 

suddenly, it clicks. you sit, quiet, stunned for a second. “paige, if i didn’t know any better i’d say you sound jealous.”

“it’s not jealousy! it’s.. like, respect.” paige gestures wildly, and you’d almost believe her if there wasn’t a flush creeping up her neck.  you raise a brow. “respect?” “we share a netflix account! and you’re saving edits of my competition!” “you’re totally jealous.” 

paige looks cornered, backing towards the kitchen. her gaze falls to the floor. “i just think, like, i dunno – i just think i care about you and i’m right here and you’re saving edits of caitlin freakin’ clark.”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes, the absurdity of this situation catching up to you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you see the orange muppet again. 

“what’s so funny?”

“you’re just –” you take a deep breath. “i can’t believe your jealous over a caitlin clark edit. you act like we’re together or something.”

“maybe i wanna be.”

paige freezes. you freeze. the heater kicks off. you're moving before you can think about it, standing in front of her. her eyes stay trained to the floor.

“i’m sorry. i just – you drive me crazy.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

she finally glances up, a smile cracking. “it’s not.”

“then what are you gonna do about it?”

her hand is on your jawline in an instant, and the nervousness bubbling in your chest is finally cut off with her lips on yours. when you pull away, she’s grinning.

“30:1 edit ratio, huh?”

your face heats, and you push your head against her chest. “not funny, paige.”

“i’ll make a new folder for you – poor decisions, filled with caitlin clark edits.”

"alright that's enough."

[wilwheaton]

hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me

I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?

I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.

I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.

Hey everyone! An old man is talking!

In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.

Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:

Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.

The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.

Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.

Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.

Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.

Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.

Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.

This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”

When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”

I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”

There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.

Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.

(Part 3 is here!)

(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)

Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.

He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.

It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.

So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.

And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.

“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”

It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.

“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.

A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.

It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”

Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.

“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”

The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.

“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”

You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.

As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.

It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.

It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.

When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.

“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.

“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.

You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.

“Fix it,” you near sob.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”

You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”

He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”

[strwbryien]

｢ ᝰ.ᐟ entry 07: COLLAB STREAM ⭑.ᐟ ｣

“Hello, guys! How are you all doing today?” you greeted your fans with a bright smile, adjusting the mic as your avatar waves at the screen.

The chat exploded with messages, colorful usernames scrolling past.

"Glad to see you're all doing well! I'm doing pretty good, too," you said with a laugh.

“Scaramouche will be joining the stream in a few minutes, so please behave and be nice, okay?” You giggled, knowing full well that chaos will be inevitable once he shows up.

chaelvskumi: what are we playing today, kumi? :D

“We’re playing Twin Realms today! It’s Hoyoverse’s newest game—super hyped about it!” Your voice practically bubbled with excitement as you adjusted the game screen on stream.

Before you could continue, a familiar voice cut through the light-hearted atmosphere.

“Are you always this loud, or is it just a special treat for me?” Scaramouche’s sarcastic tone made you freeze for a moment. He had entered the stream.

“Oh, you’re here already,” you deadpanned, turning toward his avatar on the screen—a smirking, cocky character that fits him so well.

“No shit, you let me in,” he replied flatly.

The chat erupted with lmao and omg it’s starting already as the banter kicked off.

“Shut up, Scara,” you shot back

“No thanks,” he said, the smugness in his voice palpable.

You sighed dramatically, “Chat, why did I agree to this collab again? Remind me, please.”

teapotenthusiast: Because you love us suffering.

kuniixfan: lol suffer

zuhakiss: this is a bad idea 😭

scara4ever: scara please marry me

“See? Even chat knows this was a bad idea,” you muttered, switching tabs to load the game.

Scaramouche hummed in mock agreement. “Bad idea for you, maybe. For me? Free entertainment. Watching you struggle is the highlight of my week.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that when I beat you in every realm today,” you shot back with a smirk.

“As if,” he scoffed. “Let’s see how long you last before rage-quitting.”

“Oh, it’s on.”

The game loaded, its dramatic opening music filling the stream, accompanied by stunning visuals. Aether and Lumine appeared as the starter characters, standing side by side in a glowing field of starlight.

“Wah! It’s Aether and Lumine!” you exclaimed, leaning closer to the screen. “They’re finally together after all that drama, huh?”

“It feels... weird,” Scaramouche replied, his tone more thoughtful than usual. “Seeing them together like this. We only ever get one twin while playing genshin.”

Chat buzzed with excitement.

onittobuto: justice for the twins!!

aetheriswife: hoyoverse finally giving us what we deserve 🗣️‼️

st4rryoi: they look so pretty!

“Well, it’s about time,” you said, cutting through the chatter. “I hope they stay together for the whole game—none of that tragic separation stuff.”

You refocused on the screen. “Hey, come here. I think we need to stand on this platform together to trigger the cutscene.”

“Tch, so demanding,” he grumbled, but his character moved begrudgingly toward yours.

“Oh, shut up and stand still,” you shot back

The two avatars stood side by side on the glowing platform. A dazzling beam of light engulfed them, and the screen began to fade, signaling the start of an cutscene.

sorayaz: are you ever gonna stream not faceless, kumi? :3

You chuckled nervously, glancing at the chat. “Honestly, I don’t know yet. I still feel a bit anxious about streaming with my face, so... yeah, I’m not sure.”

“How about you, Scara?” you asked, turning the question on him. “Are you ever gonna do a face reveal?”

“I don’t know,” he replied casually. “But I probably will at some point. Still, I don’t really care about that. They should watch me for my gameplay, not my face.”

scaraswife: ithought you’d quit streaming after showing that... face of yours 💀 how are you still going lol?

You froze for a moment, unsure how to respond. “Oh... uhm—”

“If you don’t have anything nice to say,” Scaramouche cut in sharply, his tone colder than usual, “exit this fucking stream. You’re embarrassing me.”

The chat fell silent for a few seconds before erupting:

chaelvskumi: you tell them, scara

kumiluvr: who the hell was that? can someone ban them

beigguangsolos: LMAO THAT’S WHAT YOU GET 💀

saetoru: dw kumi, they're js insecure bc you're pretty

“Anyway,” Scaramouche continued, brushing the comment off like it never happened, “if anyone else feels the need to act stupid, save us both the time and leave now.” You bit back a laugh, shaking your head. “Well, that’s one way to handle it.”

“What? I’m not wrong,” he said

prev | masterlist | next

synopsis:

IN WHICH—you, although faceless, are a very famous streamer known as KUMI. you were streaming as usual, playing games and interacting with fans. but when you're about to exit the stream, you accidentally pressed the wrong button that led to you opening your cam and showing your whole face to your audience. this wasn't supposed to happen, no ! so you panicked and quickly ended the stream. numerous screenshots circulated on twitter, which broke both the fans and the internet. this reached a certain someone, SCARAMOUCHE, your rival in streaming. when the said boy saw the trending photo, he almost fell off his gaming chair. because—lo and behold! KUMI was actually [name]?! now who is this [name] in his life, if you may ask? she's the girl that scaramouche has been admiring from afar in real life! quite shocking, right? have i told you that he’s also been sending you anonymous love letters? oh well...

ꪆৎ taglist

@imnotyizhuo @kazufavor @najaemism @simonisferal @lovelypadisarah @eternallykira-143 @yourfavoritefreakyhan @yuminako @035814 @squigglewigglewoo @lxkeeeee @blvdmrcnry @wth121 @lloovvv @3lectraheart @lovemiyae @danhenglovebot @heusalettle @automaticpatroltragedy @kyon-cherri @lalalaloveallmydays @musings-of-miss-j @ilxandra @lazy-sanns @vixialuvs @bananasquash @kochothehoe @lily-lmao @shutingstar @sketcheeee @minhosprettywife @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @kinanahana @featuredtofu @tamikahoshiko @jayzioxx @kleeboomed @saechiro @shyentsmissingink @poemzcheng @rifran @projectsfantasy @yejiswifex @peachystea @vi0let-writes @sicuit @hee-jinn @6blxe @viannasthings @trulyylee

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Take Your Boat Card, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Rafe continues to make their Spring Break interesting with his bucket list item.

A/N: This was suggested by the lovely @mellillasstuff, who I love to talk about Drew Starkey with! I hope you like it, Babe. The gif is special for you.

Masterlist

They spent the day in Mykonos, Greece and now, the yacht is drifting to Turkey. Their last Spring break of their lives is coming to an end in a few days and Y/N and Rafe are trying to make the most of it. Rafe sees this trip as the perfect opportunity to fulfill a bucket list item for him. “Come on. Let me take your boat card, Angel,” he begs, walking over to her on the bed. She shakes her head with a giggle, “That isn’t a thing, Rafe. Plus, we literally had sex this morning on this boat, so if it was a thing, then you’ve already taken it.” “It’s not the same. It’s not boat sex unless it is on the top deck and out in the open,” Rafe argues. He jumps into bed with her, making the mattress bounce under both of them. Her hand finds his cheek, “What kind of weird fraternity shit are you making up, Rafe?” He kisses the palm of her hand. “It’s not a weird fraternity thing. It’s… it’s kinda a fantasy of mine. Making love to my angel under the stars in the middle of nowhere with the sound of the waves keeping us company. It’s just you and me.” She, of course, wants to help him achieve his fantasy and it honestly sounds so romantic, but she can’t shake the feeling of being caught by a crewmate.

“Rafe, as nice as that sounds, what if we get caught.”

“Don’t worry, Angel. We are the only ones on the boat. I got the crew to take a boat out to the land for the night. They’ll be back in the morning to take us to our next city. If you really don’t want to do it, then that’s okay but I just thought it would be fun.” 

“I’m a little scared for our safety that no one can take drive the yacht, but I think it would be really fun too. I hope you have a captain’s hat because you are about to take my boat card.”

———

Y/N’s fingers graze the bottom of her dress, taking confident steps up the stairs. “Captain, how much longer until we reach port?” she calls out as innocently as she can. Rafe looks over his shoulder at her with a captain’s hat on his head, “A few more hours, Ms. Y/L/N. Is there something I can help you with?” Her arms swing from in front of her to behind and she walks towards him. “That’s so long… I don’t know how I’m going to fix my problem,” she laments, bringing her hand to play with her hair. 

“Well, what’s your problem? Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t know… Captain. It’s kinda an intimate issue.”

“Come on, Angel. You can trust me. I’m the ship’s Captain.” 

Her hands move up his chest, meeting around his neck. She grows impatient with this game and starts to unbutton his white shirt. “You’re restless tonight, Angel,” Rafe chuckles, bringing his hand to rest on her bum. She nods, “Very, something about that hat is doing something to me.” “Wow. Never thought my angel would be turned on by a man in uniform,” he teases. His hand moves up her bum to untie the bow of her dress while she begins peppering his bare chest with kisses. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her back from his skin. They look at each other with a grin. “I can’t keep playing this game anymore, Captain. I just need to feel you,” she mutters. He brings his lips to hers and pulls her dress off of her body, “Me either.” Once the cool ocean breeze meets her skin, Rafe walks her backwards toward the couch. The back of her knee meets the cool leather and she lies down with him on top of her. 

He kisses her on the lips, moving his hand down the valley of her breast to the top of her underwear. He grins to himself when he sees the moon glint off of his Greek letters that have been resting between her boobs since their sophomore year. A finger delicately lifts the fabric and continues its descent until it meets the wetness of her pussy. “Is this all for Captain Rafe, Angel?” She nods her head, itching for him to keep going. “Nuh-uh. Angel, you know I like it when you use words,” he tsks and removes his hand from where she needs it. 

“Captain, please. Touch me,” she begs, grabbing his wrist to bring his touch back. He growls at her words, “Enough of this Captain shit. I want you to be screaming my name to the sea, Angel.” He takes the bill of his hand in his hand and throws it somewhere on the deck without another thought. It’s one of the reasons she doesn’t have a nickname for him. It wasn’t for lack of trying when they first started to date. Rafe is so possessive of her that the thought of her calling him anything other than his name drives him to become the green-eyed monster. He pulls down her underwear and throws it with his hat, getting to work on making her feel good. His head buries between her legs, lapping up the mess he created. “Oh god, Rafe. This feels so good,” she moans at her normal level. Rafe always encouraged her to be as loud as possible, teaching her to not care about the other frat brothers, who might hear her sweet melody.

“Angel, you can be louder. There is no one around,” he reasons. She listens to his words and screams as loud as she can to please him. His mouth works on her clit as his fingers enter her hole. They curl to hit her G-spot and she tugs at his hair to get him to keep going. He quickly moves his fingers in and out of her. With every move of his finger, it brings her closer to her orgasm. Her fingers pull at the root of his hair and that’s how he knows she is about to cum. He pulls his fingers out of her, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Nope. Sorry, Angel. You are coming around my dick tonight,” he informs.

He stands up to pull off his shirt and his hand removes his belt in one fluid motion, which always makes Y/N’s thighs clench together. She sits up to help him take off the rest of his clothes and he lets her. She sinks to her knees in front of him, butt hitting the couch cushion. Her hands begin to pump his length. Saliva pools in her mouth, so she can spit it onto his dick. She slides her hand up and down his dick, listening to his groans. ���You are doing so good, Angel,” he praises. His hand finds the back of her head and pushes her onto him. She takes him into her mouth, letting him hit the back of her throat. A hand remains at the base to pump what isn’t going in her mouth. She pulls herself off of him, so she can circle her tongue around his tip. She can taste his pre-cum. He decides he is hard enough for her and brings her back up so she is facing him. He lies her down on the couch again, kissing her lips. The mixture of their juices makes both of them want to moan. 

She watches as he brings a hand down to his cock to bring the tip to her vagina. He enters her inch by inch to let her have time to adjust. He has no more to offer her and waits for her to tell him to begin his thrust. “Please start, Rafe,” she states, bringing her forehead to his. His hips move back so just the tip is still inside of her and then eases them back down to meet the top of her pelvic bone. They normally like their sex fast and hard, but the moment felt right for something slower. He repeats the motion, enjoying the way her arms round his back to mark it up.

She may be his angel, but she has nails like the devil. He can feel the dig of her nails as she drags it down his back in an attempt to bring him closer. Being chest-to-chest with him doesn’t feel like enough to her, so she rounds her legs around his waist and helps meet his thrusts. It feels like the sounds of the skin slapping against each other and their groans echo out to the sea, yet she knows it is all in her head. She brings his hips in faster during his next thrust with her feet. He gets the message and deepens his thrust, feeling the way she begins to cling to him as she does. With her walls squeezing him, he knows he isn’t going to last long. Determined to make her climax first, he brings his hand down to her bud and starts to rub it in a circle. Y/N’s orgasm washes over her with his help. The feeling of her cumming around him causes him to twitch his seeds into her. He continues his gentle thrusts to ride out their high, stilling once they are both done. 

He slips out of her and lies beside her. She turns to face him, bringing his arms over her. He tightens his hold on her and gives her a kiss to the temple. “I don’t think roleplay is for us,” he observes, thinking back to how they didn’t last very long in the charade. She giggles with a nod of her head, “Yeah. I’m too impatient and you are too possessive to let me call you anything else other than your name. But I’m glad you convinced me to do this. I enjoyed giving each other our boat cards.” 

“I hate to have to tell you this, Angel. But I don’t have my boat card.” 

“Wait, if I’m not taking your boat card, does that mean you’ve done this before?”

“I’m from the Outer Banks, Angel. What do you think?

Taglist: @loves0phelia

[kalims]

ㅤdorm leaders being savages

summary. basically some backstabber mf tries to 'steal' him and... this is where the savage part starts

featuring. dorm leaders

content. bad friend, gender neutral reader, brutal rejection 😭

note. a full post after a while :')

malleus

I mean it's not like he would notice anyways, again. I firmly believe human and fae courting traditions are vastly different and c'mon... he doesn't even know what the fuck flirting is do you really think he'd get their intentions. 💀

when they start to slide up an arm in places he's quite bothered about, (cause guy is so whipped that he won't let anyone but him touch you.) he isn't even happy that someone is near his proximity anymore, not scared and whatnot.

just he no likey.

AND HES NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE ROMANTIC HE JUST SHRUGS THEM OFF EVERYTIME. he's just a genuine innocent lil' dude who wants his lover to come and save him from this touchy, weird, human.

no child of man cause that's your name ‼️

while he may not get it, he's got a feeling, sixth sense of sorts and when he sees it he's backing tf up away. he's not gonna entertain the doubts.

also he still doesn't get it in the end lmaoooo, he's avoiding all their advances thinking it's a part of human... culture? that he wasn't made aware of.

if they start putting in the forbidden words in the same sentence as your name you know shits going down, suddenly he's not that confused, oblivious, cute guy that they saw but a much colder shell.

when his eyes darken, and it starts storming they'd had better run, he's been kind enough to stay even with their relentless annoying behavior but that is where he crosses the line fr.

don't even be surprised when they get hit by lightning and end up in the infirmary or something, malleus didn't even say anything to them cause he believes actions speaks louder than words... *sends touchy, weird human to the nurse.* see?

someone insults him: ?

someone insults you: 😠😡🤬👿🌩⚡

just goes: "your friend is very unpleasant, I'd appreciate it if you refrain from spending time with them."

something unsaid; spend all of that time with me duhhh

idia

you know what I'm surprised someone actually likes him tbh 😭 except us because we're all built different and we love disgustang discord mod behavior.

you know what's even more surprising? the fact that idia is actually seen by your friend group. I swear he comes out of his room like once a day and that's just because he's craving something else that isn't in his food stock and he's just gonna rob whose mac n' cheese was in the microwave.

and that's literally in his DORM ONLY.

he's like a vampire and allergic to sunlight, he's more willing to come out in the middle of the night because that's when the least 'normies' are scattered around like flies.

(if that counts for anything at all??)

but hanging out is more fun and if you somehow managed to convince idia to come with you with your friends for some well needed, 'socializing' then you're in luck!

besides that you had to bet one of your items in that open world game you played together... all is good!

im like 99% sure idia is disgusted by any other touch from other people, besides you? cause if you touch him he's just embarrassed... but in terms of the disgusted faction, you've been there before.

he immediately spots their intentions cause he definitely plays otome games and this is one of them cliche scenarios to 'spice up' the plot by invoking jealousy in it.

only difference is its him, you and this... random.

if they weren't already offended by the absolute mortification and disgust on his face, somehow continuing to 'rizz' him up.. oh boy. it's gonna get worse.

he's got the worst fucking 3rd grade insults like... "back away from me you noob, are you supposed to be their friend?" he scoffs, surprising them cause they thought he was gonna be that red flag discord romance experience.

"sorry but im not really sorry. i don't associate myself with lower levels such as yourself, try to come back when you're higher but I doubt they'd accept a fiend back."

LIKE WHO USES NOOB AS AN INSULT?

when you come back he's steering you away, pulling on the hem of your sleeves practically begging to come home with the promise of 'grinding that outrageous drop rate item you've asked his help with.'

something unsaid; doxxing them as soon as I get back

vil

ok this one I get.

who wouldn't want vil... it's not like I've made the entirety of the fandom known about my obsession with him as my favorite character or anything, not at all... jokes aside he's a very prominent candidate, he's hot and rich. you get it?

forget about the other qualities because we all known those two can carry someone in life alone, life in luxury and fame? sign them up ASAP.

besides your boyfriend being one of the superstar actors, models, the dream jobs for a dream man even your friends had a hard time believing you. you should be offended that they even considered that you were clinically.. delusional.

plus you didn't even seem to know about vil before so how are you dating him?!

they found out the hard way and safe to say they're flabbergasted because what even?

of course out of everyone here, vil has the most experience in terms of being approached on a baseless appearance only, he's iffed by how fast people get infatuated when they're barely scratching the surface of him.

well, you somehow dug your way deep with a shovel so you're the only exception he will allow...

at this point he knows what to expect the moment one of your friends gave him a look he's all the well too accustomed to. it's easy to ignore the ones he sees in crowds cause there's always some type of fence blocking them from fully proclaiming their love or something.

problem here is that this person has no obstacles and he can tell they're waiting for an opportunity to strike like a snake. *texts the pomefiore gc to tell them about this SNAKE!*

honey this is a big NO for him, you need to consider your circle of friends if one of them immediately starts folding around like this and wastes what? a longer friendship with you? please, he's known his stylists more and they literally get replaced every single day.

he's giving them the biggest, sassiest side eye ever. putting a palm up before they even get to speak because frankly, he does not want to hear it.

they open their knarly mouth. "i—"

he raises a finger. "no."

a frown. "but i—"

"shush."

he can do this forever.

when you come back he's still giving a bombastic, criminal offensive side eye, mentally thinking on how to ruin this person's life in media of course! his natural domain. just one word and the rest of his army will attack fr.

vil usually doesn't do this but seriously? that was another level of low.

also he's just by your side, you don't even have to say that he's your boyfriend because he's lowkey rubbing it in their face that he is in fact, taken.

"next time you try to see me again, might as well buy one of the tickets to my fan signings because you’re not seeing me again otherwise.. well, not like you can afford it anyways." *fabulous hair flip*

something unsaid; either way I'll kick you out if you try to get in

kalim

most safest person to flirt with, even if you're friends with their lover but also the most impossible to actually try and 'steal.'

the thing about kalim is that he's adorably stupid, not to degrade him in any shape or form but he's so oblivious about everything that you could consider it as one of his redeemable traits to be adorable.

he takes everything you say so seriously to the point where if you joke about wanting to water an entire continent he's just there with his carpet waiting for you cause he's gonna do exactly that.

"you're in luck cause I have a lot of water in me!" pops his non existent guns on his arms. (he is talking about his unique magic..)

it takes a remarkable mind to be like... that but you like him all the well about it, compliment his stupid-ness and he'll just grin, flush a little and laugh loudly as he compliments you back. not an ounce of anger in his tiny body.

red eyes but what a bright heart!

the type of guy that goes. "any friend of yours is a friend of mine!" so when he meets your friend group, casually just throws them a grand ball. they don't know whether to be flattered or.. concerned cause this is pretty weird.

not only was one of your friends awed over the mere value of many things inside the dorm he renovated, apparently his very huge bank full of gold was something to gasp over too.

and that's exactly what they did. (I mean get that bag sis but that bag is already owned by someone else and that's you... so that's not slay of you, random friend.)

here's when his nature proves to be quite relenting, even after many flirting, even using those cringe pickup lines from the internet, he just won't budge! it's getting irritating cause they're sure the people already heard the embarrassing words coming out of their mouth.

also that they were flirting with a non-legally married man. (to you ofc ofc.)

kalim either laughs at them because he thinks they were jokes, and just funny or laughs just because he's kalim.

he didn't really mind the casual touches at first, maybe it was friendly? he does it all the time after all but there was a stinking feeling that it felt weird and that alone was weird cause friendly pats were supposed to feel good.

not with you though cause those feel great!

accidentally shuts them down cause they're feeling like a third wheel when you come back after a bathroom break and it's like a total contrast to how he was treating them.

how do you seriously not notice kalim now unintentionally flirting with you?! are both of you airheads?!

he was literally all over you when you quipped up a "hi, I'm back."

and he was like; "welcome back :DDDD!!!!" if it wasn't already obvious they'd even add floating hearts emojis all over his head.

something unsaid; girl he didn't even notice anything was up...

azul

kinda a 50/50?

I'm not sure if most people really dig the whole 'bad reputation' thing. he's friends with the most terrifying twins in the entire campus, notably scammed a lot of people, can give wishes with an extreme price.

oh yeah he runs monstro lounge too but that just means he won't have time to spend with a lover.

that's their own imagination but azul's actually very sweet and gets some overworked junior to do the work for him, usually jade since floyd just leaves if he's given the job. JUST so he can go fret over which tie to use for your unofficial date.

despite him annoyed and losing sleep 24/7 because of the tweels he still asks them which one to use, jade's opinion is most trustworthy since floyd picks the neon, vibrant ones. (don't question why he even owns it.)

I doubt he actually likes people though, anyone else than you? hard pass. he's a simp through and through but unlike idia who can't mask the mortification and disgust on his face even at the cost of his life, good thing that masks are one of the many things azul is good at.

he slips up sometimes cause he genuinely thinks it's embarrassing that they're doing whatever this is to him, (well more of an attempt?) and to you, who is also their friend and his lover.

slip up as in his eye twitches, he flinches away a little too fast when they touch him, and his smile wobbles.

I mean no one would notice if he uses his magic on one, singular person...

mentally makes a note to remember whoever this was cause they're not stepping foot in octavinelle ever again.

+ an object of fun for the tweels. #gotormentthatlife!!

he's just a polite guy, so he won't just straight up insult them but he does warn them. the only thing holding him back from cooking a whole table is the crowd that would definitely spread the news of him going batshit.

like; "could you please, stop this? I hope you're not as stupid as you make yourself out to be because if you think I'm an idiot to not know what you're doing.. "

meanwhile his mind; "ugh this bitch. [redacted] [redacted] [redacted]."

I mean he's not that intimidating ALONE but when he gets all threatening like that (🥰) he could pass for an assassin fr.

just gets the tweels to deal with them cause he does not have the patience to deal with this backstabbing ho and it's wasting his precious time that should have been spent talking with you.

ugh he did not spend like 30 whole minutes picking out his tie and gloves just for this.

azul when he sees you coming back: 😇

something unsaid; [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted].

leona

oh boy, cover your eyes cause we're stepping onto another level of SAVAGE. you don't call lions that for NOTHING ‼️ beastman or just beast.

has the least filter out of everyone, as in he just doesn't give a single fuck, he's the chillest (agressive) guy on the twst planet so if the thought of wanting to insult some stranger that doesn't have a significance in his life at all pops up in his mind he ain't gonna change it lol.

gives the stinkiest eyes, even his tail and ears pause to synchronize with his thoughts cause if they had googly eyes they'd have a side eye too.

if he's laying down and they try pulling him upwards, tryna latch onto him? *just shoves them cutely.* problem solved.

leona's nice enough to let them off without losing something cause you really do mean something to him if he's holding back for your expense knowing that this is one of your 'friends.'

they don't even deserve to be called that!

like no one interrupts his peaceful nap times except for when he stands up to interrupt it himself just to drag you down with him.

wait so basically anyone but him???

he, really doesn't want to waste energy on this fool and to be honest they're really boring him since you went out to grab something you forgot. (but knowing this person for less than an hour in his life, they probably had something to do with that too.) so you aren't here to give him a reason to stay awake.

them rambling but in leona's eyes they're a blurry figure cause he's really sleepy.

then suddenly he's an iphone promax when he's looking at you 💀

if they already didn't take a hint from his earlier shove, the dirt isn't the only thing he's gonna shove someone into. there's a lake there for a reason other than keeping a home for the fishes y'know. never would know if they eat people too. /j

"would you shut up?"

yeah that's all he says but we all know how sharp it is to hear that from somebody so they immediately shut up. there's absolutely no need for any waste on energy of them, just one look from him and they're SILENT.

hopefully embarrassed too cause wtf was that??

unfortunately he can't fully enjoy his usually relaxing nap cause this random is corrupting the atmosphere even when they're silent, I swear they could shift and leona feels like one step closer to smacking 'it.'

ignored them every single time they tried to call out to him LOUDLY before but when you just silently step back on the field, he already peeks out an eye??? like no words needed.

what love does to a mf... sighs... another cold male lead we've lost to romance because of our mc <4

something unsaid; I was really questioning if keeping myself from strangling someone was worth it. took more effort than doing it literally

riddle

I'd have a crush on him too tbh.

unlike azul who already knew their intentions from the start, polite enough to kindly drop signs that he's not interested. riddle doesn't get it, he's just polite as well but also confused?

like he doesn't know they're tryna flirt, but he does think their actions are strange like c'mon. why are they trying to feel him up? he has no idea except the thought that he doesn't like it at all.

also it feels like he's betraying you so he just straight up pulls their arm away off of him firmly and shakes his head.

"stop this behavior."

he sighs.

surprisingly he's patient but also impatient???

consider this the first and last warning cause he WILL excuse himself if it ever goes on, riddle can wait for you browse through a whole store with him following you around and playfully commenting on your taste but can't wait for their attitude to get better.

he ain't gonna waste any more of his precious minutes on this period.

I don't know how to explain it, he's totally unaware of what they want, which is him ironically. but the reason he's rejecting their advances is because he's so devoted and a simp for you.

not a lot of people have the balls to converse or touch around him carelessly like that so freely so isn't it basic human courtesy to hold off all the physical affection till they're more acquainted?

well, not that riddle's not gonna let their current relationship advance any further from strangers at this point...

he's so loyal to you that it's cute jabskans.

riddle sticks to his principles, and he certainly has his own preferences for the personality of people. one of the traits he despises is when they don't understand his earlier warnings.

of course riddle isn't very forgiving, they're lucky they were even given a chance before cause even he, doesn't spare his dorm members a second chance when they break a rule he's been plenty lenient with.

so if you were given a chance, you better take it cause he's not giving you another.

like how since you did take your chance he's not gonna let you go now 😍.

isn't the type to be rude to people for matters he deems conflict being easily avoidable so he just makes up a believable excuse and walks away loool.

and they're like thinking; didn't he say he was tired and had to sleep since he stayed up planning the unbirthday party... why is he having a tea date with you???

suddenly he didn't look too tired at all compared to when he randomly slumped to look exhausted before??

something unsaid; 🥰🍵 what a successful unbirthday party *forgets about them immediately cause you're both having an unofficial date.*

note. ok so something unsaids are basically that but don't misunderstand, it's something they didn't say.

[rakurairagnarok]

I dedicate this story to my good friend and writing buddy @idesofrevolution. Merry Christmas buddy and please PLEASE Enjoy. Happy holidays to everyone and Happy TF's.

A Green Christmas

`What!!`

Ryan screamed at the news.

You sighed.

´I have no choice, my family has to move, and I have to go as well, I don´t have any accommodation here.´

Ryan grumbled. `Bro... you can´t leave me man... you´re my best bud.´

You grimaced. Your friend had been acting weird lately. You used to be super close, and you honestly still are, but your interests had began to shift. You used to play games, watch cartoons and study together, but lately Ryan had become absent from you life. He had been ´busy´ with other things but his grades had been plummeting and he had picked up smoking. Ryan had no idea you knew this, but you had seen the pictures from your classmates. His wardrobe had changed too. Before he would wear shirts and khakis, now its oversized shirts and hoodies. He started wearing contacts as well, which, to be honest, was a great look for him, he looked very handsome without glasses. His lingo had switched as well. No more academic jargon. Just simple sentences, which almost always had at least one bro in them.

`Look Ryan, I really am sorry, but I just can´t make this work´

Your family was moving, and while you were a college student, who by all accounts should have received some form of scholarship due to your amazing grades, you never did. The truth however, was that you wanted to move. The alienating feeling you got from your former best friend broke something in you, and you had to put some distance between eachother. You could easily apply for the on-campus dormitories but you just couldn`t bear staying near the now almost stranger.

`Look you´d better go, I want to be home before Christmas and I still have a lot of packing to do.'

Ryan sighed and left. After closing the door behind him, You let out a grunt.

"Why does it have to be this way! What happend to him?"

Reluctantly you began packing. Your father would come and get you and your things on Christmas eve, so you had your work cut out for you. You were currently staying Ryan, but this had always been a temporary solution. Ryan's landlord didn't want two friends staying together only couples or families. Ryan had become quite open to you about his sexuality. He had told you he was bisexual and that he could always tell the landlord the two of you were dating, but you had declined. You had a hard enough time not getting picked on. If word would get out that you two were dating, you would not be able to survive. What Ryan didn't know is that you were in fact also bisexual. You really liked girls but men really were where you got your satisfaction. From porn that is, because you were still a virgin. You grew up in a strict Christian household, with a Father from the south. Your parents would never approve and they were the reason you didn't have to work, so coming out was never an option.

A loud knock shook you from your deep train of thought. You opened the door and Ryan was standing right there, smiling.

"Steven, can we talk bro?"

"Ryan, I told you. I need to pack for..."

"Please, just for a little while."

"...Fine..."

Ryan walked in and sat down on your bed.

"Look man... I've been thinking... I need to be honest with you about something."

You looked at your former best friend with confusion. He had been so dominant and confident these last few weeks, and all of a sudden he looked shy and insecure.

"I... I picked up smoking... and... not just cigarettes. Weed too"

You sighed.

"I know Ryan, I have seen you. Don't worry, it's whatever... Your body, your choice."

Ryan smiled.

"Yeah for reallll broo but, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"What is it?" You asked, slightly impatient.

"Come sit down first" Ryan had this shit eating grin on his face, his perfect white teeth on display. Wait that doesn't sound right. he had braces right?

Because you took so long, Ryan grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the bed, right next to him.

"What the hell man!" You exclaimed.

He quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders, his musky scent drilling into your nose, and holds something up to your face.

"I really, really want to smoke this with you man. Like dying wish and shit."

You look down and see a blunt in between his fingers.

"I don't smoke Ryan, you know this" You point out.

" Just one hit bro, that's all, I won't tell anyone, you don't have to smoke any more, just humor me with this man."

You took a deep breath and wanted to decline, but then something clicked.

"You know what. Sure."

Ryan's grin widened. 'Let's fucking go bro!!!" He quickly grabbed a lighter, and lit the blunt.

He took the first hit, blowing the smoke right into your face, the fumes invading your nose and throat, leaving you gasping for air.

"Sorry there bro, just wanted to give you a little taste."

"I'm only taking one hit bro... fuck" Your eyes widen not only did you just curse, something which you rarely do, you also just used bro in your sentence. Hoping he didn't notice you hold out your hand to take the blunt.

Ryan, who's grinning from ear to ear, hands you the blunt, and you quickly take a hit. You deeply inhale, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the weed invade your brain. A single hit, and you can almost feel your brain stopping.

"W...whaaat the fuuuuuck" You mumble. Your jaw slacks a bit as the smoke escapes from your lips.

"You gonna take that hit or not bro?" Ryan asked with a sly grin on his face.

"Huh didn't I just?'' You asked confused.

"Bro are you already tripping? I just blew some smoke in your face man, thats all. Now come on bro, you promised."

You took a hit, taking a deep breath, feeling the smoke fill your lungs, and your whole body. Slowly blowing out you feel constricted. You look down to see your buttoned up shirt bulging. You tug on it a bit, and it flies open, revealing a chiseled abdomen and two meaty pecs.

"Brooo wat the fahk' You mumble. "My chest is so big... what the hell"

"Yeah bro I know right. I love that strain. Made me who I am today" Ryan smirks as he takes off his hoodie showing his massive arms and chest.

You look in awe as he stretches a bit, his smooth torso , and bulging muscles on display. He drops his sweats, showing off a massive bulge in his white briefs as he looks at you and smirks.

"Wanna take another hit bro?"

Before he even finished his sentence the blunt was back in your mouth, filling you up with even more smoke. You look down and begin to giggle as you bounce your growing pecs.

"Huhuhu broo they are so bigg... what the shit..." You say as a familiar musk begins radiating from your growing body.

Ryan smiles back.

"Yeah bro you're getting so fuckin huge. You're so hot"

You look at him with a flushed face.

"What... did you say?"

"You're hot. You look amazing."

"Thanks..." You can't help but blush, seeing as he himself is a fucking model.

"You're really hot yourself" You say with a beetred face

Ryan stops smiling and looks at you. He sits down and looks you in the eyes.

"I don't want you to go Stevey. I love you..."

Your eyes widen at the words, and before you know it, his lips get pressed against yours. Before you can react he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and a torrent of smoke follows suit. It's almost as if hes blowing you up, and it feels that way too, Your muscles getting bigger, your mind hazier, and your dick... well...

You manage to push away and look at him.

"Ry... I ... "

"yeah?"

"I think... no ... I know... I love you too man"

Ryan signature shit eating grin flies back onto his face.

"Fuck yeah bro!!"

A sheepish smile creeps onto your face as you grab the blunt from his fingers, taking a massive hit before grabbing his neck and blowing the smoke into his mouth.

"You're so sexy." You say as he blows the smoke back into your face.

"What about you then, such a fucking cute stud you are"

The two of you continue laughing, finishing the blunt before crawling into each others arms.

You text your dad that he doesn't have to come get you anymore, as you will be staying with your boyfriend, and promptly block him afterwards.

You nuzzled up to your boyfriends pit and took a deep breath. It smelled amazing and it bricked you up knowing you smell the same.

This will be a pretty special Christmas.

__________________________________________________________

Happy Holidays Everyone!!!! Feel free to send in some asks or order something at Rakurai Inc.!!!

[twisted-king]

Salve!:D. I'm curious on how the vice-dormleaders would react(hc) if their S/O being like Silver. Not in a literal sense but in a "Always sleepy/sleeps in random places" sense. It would also be pretty funny if their S/O still aces their academics HAHA(￣▽￣)~*

omg!! YES!!!

Vice Dormleaders x Silver-like!Reader

Trey Clover

He's a little worried... Like do you get enough sleep?

Are classes too stressful?

Trey finds it cute if you fall asleep on his shoulder while studying or having afternoon tea. He'd chuckle and give a "Is my shoulder that comfortable?" line as soon as you wake up.

Yes, you've heard it hundreds of times.

Trey kind of insists on studying with you, he (wrongly) thinks you might fall behind due to all the napping you do.

of course these study sessions are comfortable for you so you're usually lulled asleep by his voice

So imagine his suprise when he asks you about your text scores.

He's here, all ready to console you with your favorite tart, arms open to prepare to be a good boyfriend and hug you when youre sad

Only to be met with "Oh the midterm..? I aced it, why?"

HUH???

WHAT???

You share the tart, he laments...

He likes to suprise you with little treats every now and again, he buys special little boxes to put them in all the time too.

one day, he happened upon you sleeping underneath the table in your dorm (he knows where to look at this point).

You woke up with a light weight on your chest, It was a small green box with a letter attached to it:

"A sweet treat after your sweet dreams,

XOXO

- Trey Clover

Jade Leech

"Oh? How interesting..."

Jade is a little weirdo, so I think this unique trait of yours REALLY facinates him!

He kind of develops a sixth sense for your eepiness. Like he'll be in a middle of a shift and just randomly take a break, just to be there for you when you wake up.

Jade BEGS you to try a bunch of (non poisonous) mushrooms to see if they make your drowsiness worse or better

"Would you not consider it at leas.." "No." "please.." "Just once.."

He's really convincing (6'5 and in a suit).

If you fall asleep in the monstro lounge he is NOT stopping Floyd from doodling on your face

He isnt too suprised by your competency with grades, but then again he lives with Floyd, its kind of hard to suprise him.

He still rewards you with a lil kiss on the forehead

Jade LOVES when you fall asleep on him, it lets him know you feel safe around him!! He keeps a pleased smile on his face when youre near him and sleepy in any capacity.

He wants to go on hikes with you SO BADLY.

You agree one day, it kind of ends with you being carried when you eventually fall asleep on a particularly warm rock.

"Whatever will I do with you, Angelfish..."

-Said while lovingly scooping you up

Jamil Viper

Sigh...

How you two got together is a mystery

But he feels a bit calmer with you around.

He's pretty busy with Kalim, so a lot of time spent together is during school, school activities, and while he's cooking.

Jamil gets a little anxious when youre out of sights. like... what if you're sleeping somewhere dangerous, or you suddently decided to persue mountain climbing?

You go to a lot of his basketball practices, he claims he plays a little better when youre around anyway, even if you fall asleep in the middle fo the game

Stops both Ace AND Floyd from doodling on your face during practices.

Now, as for grades. He isnt too worried about you, he's got kalim to deal with an an exam to underperform on.

After midterms, he does ask about how you did (as seems to be customary)

"I did pretty well... got a 98" "You what"-

He's...pleaseantly suprised! one less thing to worry about (despite that not being his responsibility)

Jamil likes cooking spicier and spicier food for you, both to see if you can handle it (he's a little competitive), and to wake ypu up a lil <3

He presses a kiss to your cheek for every "level" you complete

"What do you think, Flower?... ah, you fell asleep"

Rook Hunt

I'm sorry.... he's a little weird about it.

He has a LOT of pictures of you sleeping in odd places

Rook's favorite is his homescreen on his phone, it's you sleeping in an impossibly high tree kind of just.. hanging there. Its in super high quality though.

He likes leaving little notes about how cute you look while sleeping around

its like a little gift for when you wake up!!!

When he isnt watch you sleep he keeps a bottle of water and some fruit snacks to munch on. Sleeping this often must be tiring after all, you need your energy!

You know you can call for him just as easily as Vil can (if not easier... you bagged a SIMP)

So, sometimes you jokingly put a hand to your forehead and Rook comes SPRINTING.

His arms are outstretched ready to catch you into a fall and dip you into a kiss

Sometimes though, it is not a joke, and Rook dutifully scoops you up before you make eye contact with him.

It's Rook, so he kind of knew about your good grades already, but every time you tell him he gives you a little "Magnifique~" and kisses your knuckles.

Your dates are very odd. one week it'll be a romantic picnic he preapred for you, the next you're hunting for Leonas together, and after that? movie night!

"Ah~ how delightful it must be to be graced with your beautiful viasge. How I long to be the lone tree stump that captured your affections so.

<3

-Rook Hunt"

Lilia Vanrouge

Another one of them "ara ara?? how interesting" types

He's a father, whose had practice with Silver

Lilia always encourages you to do your best, he usually knows when to stop pushing you to study or focus by looking into your eyes.

He's huge on affections (touch starved Lilia HC my beloved), so Lilia sometimes conveniently floats on by if you start to get drowsy.

He would rather stroke your hair to sleep over you resting on the uncomfortable wooden desks

Also kind of a weirdo who isnt tooo suprised about your high grades. He kind of assumed you were studying in your free time without him.

However, that does not mean he doesnt want to reward your great scores!! He'll cook for you :)

"I was thinking of making a lovely lasagna, with some cinnamon and jalapeño for color.... oh dear, you seem to have fallen asleep."

"honk shmimimimimim" -you, clearly faking it

He always feigns hurt when you reject his cooking, but he knows of his reputation in the kitchen.

Lilia often takes you to new places, usually museums, but sometimes your dates are in a forest he recently discovered within Diasomnia's grounds. like a goth picnic

He has a photo album of your dates together, although he has a page or two dedicated to his favorite spots you've napped on.

Lils is super accomodating, as long as you dont mind his suprise hugs and some light jumpscaring

"Haha got you, little bat!"

-Lilia, after successfully scaring the HELL out of you