#i only do serious sincere things if it makes me giggle

[mishapen-moth]

i’ve been waiting for this one

"you cant get married platonically, marriage is about LOVE and COMMITMENT" yeah love for the bit commitment to the bit

[sushiyuzu]

my turn

warning: fluff + comfort — it is finally your turn to return your devoted love and affection to soft!sylus 🤍

a/n: hi anon! many thanks for ur sweet words and request, i hope you enjoy <3

anon’s request / link: click here

hmm.

you’ve never seen sylus this quiet before.

you’ve always known sylus to be the confident one—the serious, bold, intimidating man who always seems to have everything under control. he’s the one who teases you with his smooth, elegant words, who pulls you close with a charming smile that makes your heart race. but today, you decide it’s your turn to change things up.

he’s sitting quietly in the living room, reading a book with that focused expression he gets when he’s deep into something. you take a moment to watch him, admiring his handsome face and the way his silver hair falls over his forehead. you’ve never seen him look so calm, so peaceful. a playful idea forms in your mind, and before you can second-guess it, you move closer.

you slip into his lap without warning, wrapping your arms around his neck. his eyes widen, his crimson gaze meeting yours with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“what are you doing?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, the usual edge of authority still there. you smile and lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“nothing,” you say softly, your lips brushing his skin. “just loving you.”

before he can respond, you kiss him again—this time on the other cheek, then on his jaw, your fingers threading through his silver hair. you can feel his body tense beneath you, his posture rigid like he’s not sure how to handle your sudden affection.

“you’re being... very forward,” he murmurs, his deep voice wavering slightly. clearly, he’s trying to keep his composure, but you can see the blush creeping up his cheeks, the way his eyes are flickering with uncertainty. it’s just so unlike him that it makes you giggle.

“i can’t help it,” you say, tightening your arms around him, your lips brushing against the corner of his mouth. “you’re just so handsome.” your voice is soft and sincere, and you watch as his confident mask slips just a little.

he swallows, his crimson eyes wide as he stares at you, clearly not used to you being this bold.

you decide to push him further, to see just how flustered you can make him. “i love you,” you whisper against his ear, your voice sweet and affectionate. you press a kiss to his temple, then his nose, then his lips. he freezes, his breath hitching, and you can feel the way his heartbeat racing against your chest.

“what has gotten into you?” sylus asks, his usual smooth tone cracking just a bit. he looks genuinely taken aback, his elegant words faltering as you continue to pepper his face with soft kisses. you giggle again, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his neck.

“just loving you,” you say again, more firmly this time.

“you always take care of me, so now it’s my turn to show you how much you mean to me.” you smile, your eyes shining with warmth, and he blinks at you like he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening.

and that almost makes you burst out laughing.

keyword: almost.

“you’re... ridiculous,” he mutters, his voice low and unsteady, but there’s no real irritation in his tone—only a soft, shaky vulnerability. his hands settle on your waist, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear. “you’re supposed to be the shy one, not me.”

you smile wider, leaning in to press your forehead against his. “maybe i’m tired of being shy,” you tease gently. “maybe i want you to be the one who blushes for once.”

his eyes narrow slightly, like he’s about to say something clever, but the words seem to catch in his throat. instead, he just stares at you, his crimson gaze searching your face, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep his usual composure. you feel a surge of affection for him—this strong, confident man who’s so easily undone by your love.

so you kiss him again, long and slow, your hands framing his face, your thumbs brushing over his high cheekbones. this time, he doesn’t resist. he melts into the kiss, his hands tightening on your waist, squeezing your flesh gently and you feel him shudder against you. when you finally pull back, his face is flushed, his breathing uneven, and he looks... shy. truly shy, like he’s never been before.

“you’re... unbelievable,” he says softly, his voice a little hoarse, his eyes half-lidded and warm. you can see the struggle in him—wanting to regain control, to be the calm and composed sylus that you know, but your gentle touches are making it impossible for him to act like his usual self.

and it drives him nervously crazy.

“so are you,” you reply, kissing his forehead. you can see him fighting the blush that’s spreading across his cheeks, his eyes glancing away like he’s embarrassed, and it makes your heart swell with warmth. you cup his face, guiding his gaze back to yours, and you can see the way he’s holding back a smile.

“you really are beautiful, you know that?” you say, your voice gentle and sincere. “i don’t tell you that enough.” you lean closer, pressing your lips to his ear. “you mean the world to me, sylus. i love you so much.”

you feel him tremble beneath you, his grip on your waist tightening, and you pull back just enough to see his expression—completely soft, completely open. he’s not trying to hide anymore, and there’s something incredibly sweet about seeing him this vulnerable, this undone by your love.

“you’re going to make me go insane,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, and there’s a rough, raw honesty in his tone that takes your breath away. he’s not used to being the one overwhelmed, but he’s not pushing you away, either. instead, he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closing as he lets out a shaky breath.

“then let’s go insane together,” you say softly, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. he makes a soft sound, almost a whimper, and kisses you back—slow and deep and so full of emotion that it makes your heart skip a beat.

you pull away just enough to see his face—his eyes half-lidded, his cheeks a warm shade of pink, and his expression so soft it makes your chest ache.

“you don’t have to be perfect with me,” you whisper, brushing a strand of silver hair away from his forehead. “i love you just as you are.”

he’s quiet for a long moment, his gaze locked on yours, and then he smiles—a real, gentle smile that makes his ruby eyes shine. “i love you most, sweetie.” he says softly, his voice steady and sincere, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

you smile back, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, and you hug him tight, burying your face in his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you can feel the way he’s finally letting go of that careful, controlled exterior. he’s just sylus now—your sylus, the one who loves you with all his heart, who isn’t afraid to show you his softer side.

oh, he’s so in love.

only with you.

just you, forever.

while you’re lost in the warmth of his hug, you suddenly feel his lips touch your shoulder. there’s a small, teasing pause, and then he gently nibbles at your skin—a light bite that makes you shiver. you gasp quietly, your heart fluttering with surprise, but before you can even react, he follows it with a soft, gentle kiss, pressing his lips where he cutely bit you. the touch is warm and comforting, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“sylus,” you whisper his name, a little surprised but mostly filled with affection, and he laughs quietly, the sound low and sweet. he’s still holding you close, his breath warm against your neck, and you can feel that he’s smiling—like he’s happy to share this new, tender closeness with you.

and deep down, that makes you giddy.

“i couldn’t resist,” he says in a soft whisper, his voice gentle and playful in your ear. his tone still carries a hint of his usual confidence, but it’s softer now. his arms pull you even closer, and you can feel the steady, comforting beat of his heart as you lean against his chest.

“you’re just too tempting,” he adds, his lips brushing your shoulder again. you can’t help but laugh softly, holding him tighter, your arms wrapped around his neck. you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, feeling warmth spread through you—a feeling of love that fills every corner of your heart.

“and you,” you say softly, your voice full of love, “are absolutely perfect.”

he makes a quiet, happy sound, gently nuzzling his face into your neck. you can feel him smile against your skin, his warmth so close and comforting. his fingers start to trace gentle patterns on your back, moving slowly, and you can tell he’s calm and relaxed. his breathing slows, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and you feel safe and happy in his arms.

you stay like that, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, for a long time. the room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing, and it feels like the rest of the world has disappeared. his strong, big arms keep you close, and you can feel every bit of him—the warmth of his chest, the softness of his breath, the way he holds you like he never wants to let go.

you lift your head slightly, just enough to look into his sweet eyes. there’s something more softer in them now, something that’s just for you.

only for you.

you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips, slow and warm, and he kisses you back, his hand moving up to cradle your cheek. you feel his thumb gently brush your skin, and he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

when you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-closed and his face relaxed. he looks softer, more open than ever before, and it makes your heart ache with love.

you give him one more quick kiss on the tip of his nose, making him chuckle softly. he tightens his arms around you, holding you so close that you can feel the warmth of his body all around you.

“i love you,” you whisper, and you say it again, over and over, softly against his skin—each “i love you” gentle and full of emotion. he closes his eyes, listening, and you feel the way he relaxes even more, like each word you say fills him with warmth.

he lets out a quiet sigh, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, and you can feel him melt into your touch. his strong, protective exterior has softened, and you can see a slight blush on his cheeks, a sign that he’s a little overwhelmed by all the affection you’re giving him. but he doesn’t move away. he just stays right there, holding you tightly, his face hidden in the crook of your neck, soaking up every bit of your love.

you don’t let go either. instead, you rest your head against his shoulder, feeling his warm breath fanning your skin while his fingers continue to gently stroke your back.

you’re both wrapped up in a safe, warm bubble where nothing else matters except the two of you, and you know that this—being with sylus, being this close—is all you’ll ever need. and you know, in that moment, that this is exactly where you belong—right here in his arms, loving him with all the warmth and affection he truly deserves.

[gretavanlace]

Feels Like Gold

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk, breeding kink, Jake drives a car (the most dangerous situation of all), extremely mild degradation, etc

Okay, in honor of our collective jakedown, I rooted around in my unreleased work and then did a little revamping. This one is for you, @piratejakesgf thank you for your request ❤️ *loosely edited, fair warning

And kisses to @jake-kiszkas-smirk and her brilliant mind for titling this when I was at a loss 💋 xoxo

“Fuck, these are so uncomfortable!” you hiss with exasperation, tugging at the itchy nylon hell encasing your legs.

“Told you not to wear them.” Jake reminds you, flipping on his turn signal before switching lanes, though the freeway is dark and nearly deserted.

“You know how my family is.” you remind him right back, annoyed with his flippant attitude. “If I’d shown up to that wedding in a dress with bare legs I’d have been labeled the whore of the family tree. My branch weighed down with bad choices; exposed skin and a degenerate rockstar on my arm.”

“I mean, to their credit, I actually am a degenerate so they’re just calling ‘em like they see ‘em.” His eyes are locked on the road, but a tiny smirk tells you he’s pleased with his cleverness. “Plus, your aunt tried to fuck me, so you aren’t the only whore in the family.”

An abrupt laugh trills out of you. “Right. Which aunt?”

“Does it matter?” he shrugs. “She told me she slept with Joe Perry and it left her with a taste for guitarists…I told her Perry could suck my dick because I could stomp his riffs any day, but that only turned her on even more.”

“And then what happened?” you giggle, falling into his little pretend world.

“Well,” he sighs wearily, “Promise you won’t be angry with me?”

You’re solemn and stoic, as if this is very serious business, “Scouts honor.”

“Then, I excused myself and wound up fucking your uncle in the bathroom, instead.” he squints at an upcoming exit sign to be sure you’re headed in the right direction, and then settles back into a more relaxed state, wrist guiding the steering wheel casually.

“Was he any good?” you ask, mock sincerity laced through your tone.

“I’ve had better.” He shrugs.

“You’re so stupid.” you shake your head with a doting roll of your eyes, and reach under your dress to roll the torturous hose down and off.

He watches out of the corner of his eye, stealing glances as safely as he can while driving.

“Jesus, they were thigh highs all this time?” he sounds a little like he’s considering jerking the car over onto the shoulder of the highway to drag you into the backseat.

“All this time.” the garment in question lands in his lap.

“Lemme see.” he orders quietly before you have a chance to remove the second.

Up the hem of your dress travels until he can get a good look at the black lace resting at the top of your thigh. “Fuck, pretty girl.”

“You like that?” you tease in a silken voice.

He nods, tightening his grip on the wheel.

You push a little further with, “Are you hard?”

“I’m gonna kick you out of this car and make you walk home.” he lies, reaching out to snap the elastic lace against your skin. “Take this one off, too…it’s doing unspeakable things to me. Especially since you’re only wearing the one. You look sloppy - like I just rocked your shit in the back of a tour bus.”

“Jacob Thomas..” you gasp lightly, as though scandalized “Someone seems a little worked up.”

“I might be, if only I didn’t have such a firm grasp on the power of will, my darling.”

He’s being untruthful, but he does it so elegantly - in that soft, slightly British lilt of his, you decide to grant him a very gracious pass and drop the second into his lap.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Kiszka.” You wiggle your polished toes, enjoying the freedom. “My baby cousin, the one you let dance on your feet? She asked me if you were a pirate.”

This tugs an honest laugh out of his chest…a gorgeous sound that colors your cheeks pink. “You told her yes, I expect?”

You hum in confirmation, “I did. And I told her that you have a special sword with strings on it and it makes beautiful, dark music that people come from far away lands to hear. Just like the sirens in Peter Pan.”

His face visibly softens in the flickers of light shed by the street lamps whipping by. “You always did know how to paint a lovely picture, pretty girl.”

The low purr of the engine lulls your head against the window, but just as your eyes begin to grow heavy, he pulls you back to him with a quiet, “Hey,”

Turning your head against the seat, you study his profile, charting the map of your favorite face, “Yeah?”

”Whose baby was that you were holding? The tiny, tiny one,”

It seems such an odd thing for him to ponder, and you have to mentally sift through the reception a bit, you held a great many babies tonight…it seemed like every cousin and second cousin in attendance was weighed down by a diaper bag stuffed full of diapers and pacifiers.

”The one with the little headband bow-thingy.” He clarifies. “She was so small.”

“My cousin’s. He and his wife’s third in almost as many years. She’s only like a month old and smelled like heaven.” You draw in a breath and wish her silken tufts of hair were still pressed to your cheek, “Why?”

”I don’t know,” you know him well enough to know that’s a damn lie. “I just- I don’t know…do you ever think about it?”

Caught off guard, you opt for a little joke, “Does Jakey have baby fever?”

He smiles, and there is a touch of shyness that lives there, “Shut up. Do you think about it?”

“Do I think about having babies? Well, I-“

He interrupts quickly to set you straight, “Do you think about having babies with me?”

Oh.

Where is he heading with this? Will a bit of honesty scare him? Will it scare you?

Deciding to take the plunge, this is simply a conversation after all, and a subject that he broached to boot, you choose truth. “Yes, I’ve thought about babies with you. Although that whole twin thing is fucking terrifying.”

Again, you joke. Again, he doesn’t take the bait. “Identical twins aren’t hereditary. We’re just an accidental fuck up. When you think about it, what do you think?”

”A lot of things.”

Smoothly, he guides the car onto the off-ramp that leads to home. “Very informative, darling. A veritable treasure trove of information.”

He hasn’t tipped his hand and you aren’t about to let him off so easily. “”Do you think about it?”

”Honestly, not before. I mean, I think about how you’ll look in your wedding dress and if you’ll wear your hair swept up the way I like, and I suppose that’s sort of the same thing. Or headed in the same direction, anyway. But watching you hold that baby tonight…”

Your chest suddenly feels a little tight. You’re touched by his admission.

And how endearing that he wonders how you’ll wear your hair. You reach out and stroke the back of your hand along the cut of his jaw, “When the day comes, I’ll wear it up for you.”

~

Later, he’s draped across the bed watching you glide about the room in your bra and panties. Earrings unfastened and placed gently on your jewelry tray, necklace hung carefully, hair let loose and shaken out at long last.

Hands folded behind his head, he speaks up, breaking the spell you have unknowingly cast over him, “You said ‘a lot of things’. Elaborate.”

You turn, eyes drifting over the king lounging about upon the bed you share, in nothing but the dress pants he hasn’t yet bothered to shed. “What?”

He cocks his chin, summoning your attention further ”Babies. You said you think about a lot of things.”

He looks so fucking sinfully delicious…a sickeningly sweet cake sent from the bewitching trenches of hell to rot your teeth. “The normal things. Baby things.”

The heavy wooden frame creeks quietly as he pulls himself into a sitting position to study your expression, “Liar.”

”Oh, I’m sorry,” you dance around the accusation, “I just happen to be looking at a disgustingly attractive little shit waiting for me to climb into bed beside him. Forgive me for looking flustered.”

”Don’t be coy, darling,” he tsks, clicking his tongue against his perfect teeth. “I can see it written all over your pretty face. You’ve got a secret.”

He’s moving towards the edge of the bed now, drawing you in closer with his devilish stare. “Tell me.”

”I don’t have a secret.” Whose voice is that? Surely it’s much too quiet and meek to be your own.

”Tell the truth.” He hums, a knowing twinkle flashing in his gaze. “What do you think about?”

Your eyes refuse to meet his own as your stomach knots, warm and vibrating. “I guess…sometimes I - sometimes I think about the trying part of it all.”

He’s watching you closely, you can feel it like warm fingers dancing across your blushing skin. “So you think about fucking?”

He almost sounds disappointed. He had expected more judging by your hesitancy to share.

”Well,” your fingers are plucking at the comforter now, rooting out a loose thread to spin around your finger, “Yes, but it’s kind of more than that. I think about you… inside me.”

At last, you peek up at him. He looks curious, as if he can’t quite figure you out. “Why are you being such a little mouse about this?” His palms are cupping your face now, calluses soothing you like a song. “I’m inside you all the time, and I think about it all the time, too.”

Shaking your head gently, you find your footing…at least a smidge, “Not like that. I think about you inside me. The way you would have to be if we were trying.”

Your birth control rendered condoms unnecessary ages ago, yet he has always pulled out - ever cautious and responsible. Confusion is still painted across his features…until it isn’t.

“Oh,” a lascivious grin appears and you long to curl your tongue over his lips, “you fucking filthy little thing.”

In a blink, you’re dragged onto the bed and into his arms, tossed down with your back against the sheets. his body heated and flush against yours.

Mouth suckling and nipping at your throat, he rasps into your skin, “Is that what does it for you? Pretty girl wants my cum?”

Your body’s reaction is visceral, primal, and almost embarrassing. You’re arching away from the mattress, desperate to be even closer than you already are.

“Answer me.” He huffs, sinking a bite into your jaw.

”Yes…” your hands are in his hair, thighs around his waist, “I want it.”

”Say it.” He’s rocking against you now, hard and straining against your panties. “Say what it is that you want. What you think about.”

”I think about you fucking me,” once again, whose shaking voice is that? “I think about the way you sound when you finish, and the way your cock throbs and twitches in your hand, and how it might feel inside me.”

”Keep going.” He orders, soft and wavering in your ear.

”I think about how warm your cum would feel inside of me, and maybe I wouldn’t be able to keep it all in. Maybe it might tickle a little when it leaked out.”

”Fuck, baby…” his hands are everywhere, yanking your breasts from the cups of your bra, winding your panties down your thighs, fingers sinking into your soaking, clenching cunt with a groan that sounds pained.

He seeks out your favorite spot and tucks up into it, wrenching a wanton moan from your lungs “You want me to fill this little pussy up? Keep you dripping wet with me all day long? Fuck baby after baby into you?”

”Jake…” you’re clawing at his bare shoulders, fucking yourself hopelessly against his hand. “More.”

He slips a third finger inside you, “Is that why you get a little whiny when I pull out? My girl wants me to do it inside?”

”More,” you urge through gritted teeth, eyes locked in on his face and the lust so evident in the set of his features.

”You want four?”

”Please, Jake…” tears are threatening at your lash line, “more, more, more,”

“You’re having some trouble listening tonight, aren’t you?” he sounds diabolical, and turned on beyond belief. “I asked you a question.”

His thighs prise your legs open wider as he squeezes his pinky into your warmth to join the rest of his drenched fingers, “Do you want my cum inside you? You want me to give it to you? Keep it all safe and warm for me?”

With a mournful wail you’re reduced to a million little pieces beneath him. Rocking frantically into his touch…the heel of his hand grinding quick circles into your clit as his fingers fuck you through it. He’s covered in you, it rolls down his wrist and beads against his stomach like early morning dew, anointing him as you thrash and writhe like a beautiful, fluttering leaf in an autumn wind.

When the hazy fog clears, allowing your sight, it’s his face - stunning and beaming - you find, “Hey, pretty girl.”

Now that you’re coming down, your diffidence returns and you close your eyes in a pathetic attempt to hide.

He’s having none of it, “No, no, darling…you stay with me. Right here, baby. You look so pretty with my cock inside you, imagine how fucking beautiful you’re gonna be when I fuck you full.”

“Please, jake…” it’s pathetic really, and maybe you should care about that, but you don’t. “I need it, I need it so bad.”

“Yeah?” The gravel in his tone makes you shiver with frantic desire. “Pretty girl just wants to bounce on my cock all day? Just using me to get what she wants?”

Rather than answer, you elect to begin wrangling the button on his pants.

“Someone’s eager.” He teases softly, lifting up on one elbow, easing your struggle. “You want it that bad? Are you gonna let me cum wherever I want? Gonna let me put a baby inside you?”

“Fucking do it!” Frustrated and sparking with electric desperation, you give up and tug on his waistband feverishly until he takes over, popping the button with ease and kicking them off.

His cock is fisted in his hand now, with your eyes fiercely focused on it. Hard and beautiful and yours. “You want that inside you?” He whispers, watching you stare. “You want me to fuck you? You want me to fucking breed that pretty pussy? Make you a mama?”

You should be ashamed of yourself, you well and truly should be…but fuck if you don’t want more, “Keep talking while you fuck me,” you breathe, somewhere between imploring and begging, “Dirtier, come on…”

His cock slips inside. Just the cashmere tip teasing at you, “Dirtier?” He nudges in a little deeper, just enough to make you whine, “well what should I say, pretty girl? Should I tell you that you’re my beautiful little cum slut and if I’d known it sooner I’d have been stuffing you full all this time?” Deeper still he glides, “Or that I want to cum inside you and then fall asleep with my fingers buried in your cunt to keep it where it belongs?” He’s fucking you harder, faster…the pillowy head of his cock kissing your cervix in a divine dance between pleasure and pain. “Or should I tell you about how I think about licking it up? Kissing you with my cum on my tongue because I know you’d suck it off like the greedy little baby you are.”

“I-“ a pitiful whimper escapes you, but his fingers are suddenly grasping your chin, grounding you enough to collect your scattered thoughts. “I’m gonna cum, tell me where you’re going to cum. Tell me where you’re going to put it. Please, I want it,”

Hips rolling into a succulent grind against your swollen clit now, he begins “I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve got every last drop, pretty girl. It’s all yours, are you gonna take it for me like a good girl? Are you going to be a good little mama and take it all?”

His name is all you can manage as you shatter. It’s primeval and animalistic, sounds that would make you want to crumple in on yourself if anyone heard them besides your Jacob.

“You’re so fucking tight and wet..” his perfect cock is pounding you through it as he inches closer and closer, “are you ready for me to make a mess of this little beauty right here? Hmm? Ready for me to fuck this cunt all full and dirty? You want it?”

“Jake…” you trail off, eyes fighting to stay open and locked in on his face while you shake against him, twisting and clenching around his perfect cock, “you’re so fucking hard.”

He nods furiously, burying his face in the crook of your neck to lick your pounding pulse “That’s all you, baby. You make me that hard.”

Your hips begin rocking up to meet him even faster, hungry to please. “Good girl, you keep fucking that cock. Are you gonna take what you want? Gonna make me cum? Gonna help me fill this pretty little cunt?”

In response, your nails dig into his skin, raking your mark, claiming him. You’re almost there again, though you can’t imagine how. “I’m so fucking close,” you’re sighing and shaking the words into the room, offering confession.

“Again?” He’s mocking you so sweetly, teasing dirty words into your ear like lullabies, “Already? Is my pretty girl gonna cum on this cock? Squeeze and suck the cum right out of me to steal it away? You want it that badly?”

You let go, with a trembling breath of his name, and feel his body tense against the feverish grip of your orgasm.

”That’s it, baby,” his words are but a sigh skittering across your cheek, “That’s it. Feels so good. Feels like gold. My pretty, pretty girl…”

He fucks you faster even as you melt into a puddle within his arms. “Gonna cum for you,” he promises, “I’m gonna cum so hard for you. Who’s going to take it? Who’s gonna take every fucking drop?”

”I am,” have you even made a sound? You can’t be sure, you’re so lost.

”Yes, you are…” his forehead, slick with exertion and need, nods against your own. “You’re going to take it just like you take this cock. My good fucking girl…pretty pink baby doll just begging for me to wreck her.”

Without warning, he collapses into your arms, moaning and crying out, shuddering as he releases inside you. Warm and perfect, everything you’ve ever imagined and so much more.

His fingers sink into your muscles, clutching and pulling you closer still, “Baby…” he sounds raspy and pained, “Baby, baby, baby, fuck..fuck…”

And when at last, he calms, it is with his cheek pressed to your chest, clocking the wild metronome that is your heart with your hands sweeping through his hair.

Soon, you’ll both crawl out of bed, maybe into the shower…perhaps into the warmth of a bath, but for now it is simply you, and Jake, and this tranquil bliss.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

[wolvietxt]

drunken confessions prompt list

when too much alcohol loosens their tongue

🌀 leaning heavily on your shoulder, they slur, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to kiss you,” and you freeze, unsure if they mean it or if it’s just the alcohol talking.

🌀 they’re giggling uncontrollably, cheeks flushed, when they suddenly blurt out, “you know, you’re the only person who makes me this happy.” the laughter fades, replaced by an earnest gaze that’s hard to dismiss.

🌀 stumbling over their words, they confess with a shy grin, “i think about you all the time.” their eyes widen like they didn’t mean to say that out loud, but there’s no taking it back now.

🌀 sitting together in the dim light of the bar, they lean in close and whisper, “i’ve been in love with you for ages.” you almost laugh it off, until you see the serious look in their eyes, even through the haze of alcohol.

🌀 drunkenly grabbing your hand and holding it against their chest, they mumble, “my heart always does this around you, you know.” you can feel the unsteady rhythm beneath your fingertips.

🌀 they’re rambling on about nothing in particular when, out of nowhere, they look at you and say, “i would give up anything just to see you smile every day.” it catches you so off guard that you don’t know how to respond.

🌀 as you’re helping them get home, they rest their head on your shoulder and murmur, “i’m not drunk enough to lie about loving you.” the words are soft and slurred, but the sincerity in their tone is unmistakable.

🌀 they keep repeating your name over and over, like they’re savoring the sound, before letting out a dreamy sigh and admitting, “i wish you knew how much i care.”

🌀 after a few too many drinks, they look at you with bleary eyes and say, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” there’s a hint of desperation in their voice, like they’ve been holding onto that truth for too long.

🌀 as they sway slightly on their feet, they confess, “i’d do anything for you.” you laugh and brush it off, but they shake their head stubbornly, grabbing your hand to make sure you’re listening.

🌀 they stumble closer, eyes half-lidded and voice soft, saying, “you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like this.” their fingers graze your arm, like they need the contact to stay grounded.

🌀 leaning in a little too close, they confess with a shaky laugh, “i don’t want you to ever be with anyone else.” the words come out rushed, like they’ve been bottled up for far too long.

🌀 slurring slightly, they admit, “i thought i could get over you.” there’s a hint of sadness in their gaze as they meet your eyes, like they’re realizing the truth for the first time.

🌀 as they’re drifting off on the couch, they grab your hand and mumble, “promise me you’ll stay.” their grip tightens slightly, like they’re afraid you’ll let go if they don’t hold on.

[eee-lordy]

Practice Makes Perfect

!!! nsfw minors dni !!!

Jacob offers to help fem!reader get her first time over with. 6k

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Ready for your big move?" Jacob huffed, dropping a particularly heavy box onto the top of another. He'd come over to help you start packing up, you had a week left.

"Mostly, yeah I think so." You grinned, knowing he was talking more about emotionally than materialistically. Your eyes scanned the bare bones of your first apartment. It had been a welcoming and safe space for a handful of years now, but the time had come to move onto bigger and better things.

"Let's drink to the beginning of the end, then, shall we?" Your dearest pal declared, toting over glasses and liquor from your fridge.

"Don't say it like that, nothings ending here." You warn, sick at the thought of there being a time limit on your friendship once a little space got in the way. Jacob sat next to you on the sofa, pouring you each a drink.

"Okay sorry, we'll toast to now, then. May we enjoy every moment." Jacob's sincerity past the silly tone he used warmed your confounded heart. So many feelings had plagued you since finding out about your big move. How excited you were for the fresh start, and how you were, in fact, dreading leaving behind everything you loved so dearly, everyone.

As you sat and drank, it was all Jacob could talk about. He asked you all kinds of questions. What the place was like you were headed to, how you may come to decorate the home you were set to buy. How you may plan to spend your time. You fawned over descriptions of some new furniture you'd had shipped to your new place. And excitedly quipped about the plans you were making for the distant future.

"I hope to just go wild. Create a whole new thing for myself, ya know? Try everything, live to the fullest." The realizations that you could become whoever you wanted most to be in an all new place had your imagination running wild since theses plans became solid.

"And what are you most nervous about?" Jacob countered, squinting as if he knew this question was one that might really challenge you.

"Oh... I don't know." You feigned a laugh, hoping your face hadn't flushed red. Because you had been increasingly nervous about one thing, fretting over the many outcomes your imagination brought to life every time you wondered how to take on this certain situation...

"Ohhhh no." Jacob grinned wickedly, shifting in his seat to face you a little more head on, pointing his half full beer in your direction. "There is something, I know when you aren't telling me things, you know?"

"Jacob, can we please drop this?" You plead, feeling like sinking in on yourself for letting your facade drop for even a second.

"All I'm saying is, if you're this nervous about something, maybe I can help?"

"I highly doubt you can help with this one, dude." You let out a mortified giggle, feeling your blush coming back tenfold.

"Hey." Jacob lowered his tone, cocking his head to catch your eye. His were serious. "You know you can tell me whatever it is-"

"Is embarrassing-"

"And I won't judge you. You know that." And you did know. Jacob had told you his own mortifying confessions, from the time he'd lost his clothes in a sketchy overnight gym, to the salacious dreams he'd had about certain unattractive costar way back before you knew him. As you reminded yourself of the story Jacob once told you of his mishap with a zipper during the first night he spent in the bed of a lady, you realized you could tell him what was on your mind.

"Okay fine." You gritted through your teeth, clasping your hands together only to anxiously wring them. Jacob stayed quiet and awaited your words.

"I'm most nervous about having sex." You declared. "Because I'm more than ready to get out there and do it, but the thought of sleeping with some stranger is appalling, and I don't know who I trust enough to ask to see me through that awfully awkward first time. And what if I never meet someone I trust enough, just-" With a disgruntled sigh, you realized you were rambling.

"You're a virgin?" Jacob's mouth twisted into a confounded frown as his head turned much like a baffled puppy dog. Your friends studying of you made you want to slip into nonexistence.

"So what?" You huffed a nervous laugh, daring to meet Jacob's piercing eyes for the first time since revealing your secret.

"It's just I thought you'd have done it, like... a lot." He shrugged. "Being so smokin' hot, and all."

"I am not hot, Elordi, and despite really being ready, I'm way too nervous to do it. That's the whole issue here." You scoffed, taking a frustrated swig of your drink.

"Uh, yeah you are. And what is there to be nervous about, anyway?" He quizzed.

"What if I do the wrong thing or say something weird or just make a complete fool of myself? Or what if I hate it? I'm ready for it. But I really am scared I will never meet the right person to deal with how in my head I am about this..."

Jacob let his gaze fall to the floor, seeming to puzzle over your words. A considerable amount of silence settled about the room before either of you spoke again. He was the one to break that silence.

"Do you... trust me?"

Your eyes widened and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

"I mean, you know I think you're attractive. So, I won't care or even notice if you make a complete fool of yourself. And we know all each other's secrets. That's trust. And if you hate it, we stop. I'm kind of the perfect candidate her, love." His confidence had blossomed with the help of the drinks you two had shared tonight. Jacob spoke with assuredness, letting no signs of awkwardness show in his daring offer. The whole thing had your head spinning.

"Jacob."

"All I'm saying is... if you want, I'm down. If not, I get it." He took a swig, the last of his third glass. "I'm just saying..." Jacob let his sharp dark eyes rake across your figure as you sat in place, trying not to squirm. You considered the expression in his gaze, clearly drinking you in, yet keeping a respectable distance.

"I'll... think about it." And you really would.

He nodded. You nodded. He got up and turned on a movie. You went searching for more to drink. As some rather boring action flick unfolded on your telly, your mind raced. You did trust Jacob. You did find him attractive too. With his angelic features and fit figure. And you wouldn't mind if this little... experiment led to something a little more serious either. But that was a wild far off distant dream. And still, all the things that mortified you about doing it with a stranger made you just as nervous to consider in the company of one of your closest friends.

"It would just be, like, educational right? Just... one friend helping out another?" You pipped up in the middle of the action movies climax.

"It would be whatever you needed or wanted it to be, doll. I'm offering my sincerest assistance." Jacob spoke easily, keeping his apparent focus on the telly screen, settled an inch away from where you sat on the sofa.

You hummed in understanding, acknowledging how both of you kept your eyes glued to the movie on your screen, and that seemed soothing. There didn't seem to be any pressure, there didn't seem to be any stakes. And as you considered your nerves, you wondered if the feeling was more that of anxious wonder. And then you realized there was a way to test this theory...

"Kiss me. Then I'll know." You thought out loud.

"Know what?"

"If you're a shitty kisser or not. And if I'd even dream of letting you sleep with me." You were drunk enough to speak without consideration. You were curious enough to take Jacob up halfway on his offer. You really hoped he wasn't a shitty kisser. You may have let him have his way with you even if he was.

With a decided shrug Jacob leaned in. His lips were soft, the gentle way he pressed his against yours was more than comfortable. You let yourself relax into pressing your own kiss back, and he took that as a signal to deepen his display of affection. And the kiss that began as a seemingly casual interaction took a different form. Jacob let his lips slowly open, encouraging yours to do the same. As your kissing grew longer and deeper, your very dear friend let his fingers reach to brush your hair back; then let his digits press against the base of your neck to pull your lips ever closer.

The gentle forcefulness Jacob commanded brought a contented sigh from your throat, and your friend's smile in response broke your interaction.

"I'll take that as a yes?" He smirked, eyes focusing on yours close up.

"It's just... a lot to consider."

He had kept his hold on you. His hand clutching the back of your head, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hair.

"Listen. I won't push this on you. It's no sweat if you decide against it. But I really would be very patience and more than glad to help you out here. That's the last I'll speak of it. Now, what are we watching next?"

You spent the rest of that evening next to Jacob in mutual silence. You watched films until your friend grew tired and called it a night. All the while your mind raced from one scenario to the next. Wondering what the worst could turn out to be, if you said yes, or no.

///

Jacob stopped by one night later, saying he was simply in the neighborhood and wondered if you'd needed any kind of help continuing to pack up. So, you put him to work, cleaning out drawers and folding clothes into suitcases. You talked a lot while working, about eachothers lives and dreams and silly things. But the conversation kept leading back to the topic of your move.

"I'll be hours away from all my family and it's not like I won't see them but I'll be so alone you know?" You confessed your fears for living in solitude and worrying over worst case scenarios.

"Hey, you'll make it just fine. You don't give yourself enough credit." Jacob insisted, moving about your room from one task to another. "Plus, I'm only one phone call away."

"I know." You whispered, peering up to your friend through your lashes, biting back a frown. You set a roll of tape and a box cutter on a nearby shelf, done with the tools for now.

"This is supposed to be a good thing, a happy thing." Jacob reminded you, shuffling to stand before you. He reached out to tilt your chin upward as if that would encourage a smile from you.

"I know." You whispered again. And with no way of knowing who leaned in first, all you knew was Jacob was kissing you again. And you relished the comfort of his affection. Nothing stopped you now from slinking a lazy arm around his neck as the guy let his grasp splay across your back.

Jacob was the first to break away, like before. But unlike then, he said nothing now. Jacob just leaned back far enough to catch your eye, as one of his brows lifted in a silent question.

"I think I might want to take you up on your offer..." You seemed to realize out loud. Maybe you had always wanted it to be him. Or maybe his encouragement had done the trick of talking you into feeling this way now. But you were never surer about being intimate with someone than now, with the way your dearest friend held you in his arms.

"Yeah?" He nodded with a furrow in his brow.

"Yes, I- if you're really sure." You stuttered.

"I am if you are." Jacob continued to nod. And after a beat, when he asked "Like, now? Right now?" You moved to nod along with him, even though your heart threatened to leap from your chest.

"Okay." He whispered. "You just need to tell me if it gets all too much, no matter what. Promise me you will."

"Yeah. I'm, like, really nervous. That's the big problem. But I trust you, so I am very sure."

"Well, I can certainly help with that." Jacob brought a hand to your hair, "I think." He lightly chuckled, pulling a face, setting your nerves at ease already.

"We'll just go very slow. How does that sound?" He asked, still keeping a hand rested on the side of your head, while his other crept down to the bend of your waist. You let out a held breath and nod assuredly.

"Okay." You flickered a smile. Jacob nodded too, his lithe grin remaining as he searched your face, his eyes landing on your lips. You hadn't fully expected him to agree to this, and you hadn't at all expected things to start right off the bat. But you couldn't complain when Jacob closed the gap and pressed a gently feather light kiss to your lips. As he did so, he tucked a bit of your hair behind your ear, and ever so slightly tightened his grip at the bend of your waist.

This resulted in your hands finding his shoulders, resting them between there and his chest- where you wondered if you were feeling your own rapid heartbeat in your palms, or his.

His lips left yours for a moment, but another feather light kiss came soon after. A couple more small steady pecks made you comfortable enough to fully relax in the hold Jacob was beginning to wrap around you; his hand moving to hold the back of your head, his other moving from the bend of your waist so his arm circled around you.

When your arms slid into a loose hold around the guy's neck again, his kisses started to ever so slightly deepen. His tongue teased your lips, his thumb caressed soothing circles against your rib cage, a delightful hum escaped his throat.

"This okay so far?" Jacob wondered in a hushed rumble, meeting your eyes between kisses. You nodded and softly smiled, waiting for the guy to continue. When he dove back in, his kisses deepened even further, his tongue pressed against yours, his hold tightening, pulling you almost entirely against himself. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, just kissing and letting hands roam against backs and through hair.

He'd barely done as much as hold you close, but you were already feeling the hot coil of desire burning low in your belly, and it was starting to spread every place else. Your every nerve was already on end.

"I could gladly do this all night." Jacob hummed, moving his kisses to pepper your jaw, and then down your neck. "But would you like to go any further? You tell me, doll."

"Sure, we can go further. I just need you to guide me through." You blew out another shaky breath, trying to release the jitters.

"I can do that. Just remember you can tell me to stop anytime for any reason." Jacob kissed your forehead and waited for you to nod in agreement. He kissed your cheek and then your lips, and let his hands begin to roam new territory. his fingers grazed under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the skin of your hips, skin that had never been touched by anyone but yourself until now. It was starting.

"Can I take this off, doll? I'll take mine off too. We'll be on the same page." Jacob sighed into your mouth, and couldn't resist kissing you between words. He left one set of fingers creeping under your shirt while the other gently tugged at the garment.

"I like that idea." You smiled, his lips brushing against yours in a phantom kiss.

He opted for his first, shedding his tee in a lazy fashion, revealing a sight you had seen before, his bare chest. But now was different from the hot summer days you'd been near the guy in such a state. Now you were free to oggel his frame entirely. 

Jacob watched you watching him as he delicately took hold of the base if your shirt, and pulled it up. You lifted your arms instinctively and tried not to shiver in an anxious display of vulnerability.

The man you'd come to trust tossed aside your favorite old concert tee and brought both his hands to the bare skin of your waist. He'd see you in swimsuits and crop tops but he'd never been so close. Never had his hot skin been so easily accessible under your touch. Never had he caressed you in such a state. The pair of you stood there, holding each other in a delicate morphing clasp, for a brief moment. Your breathing synchronized before Jacob nuzzled against your neck and mumble something about how beautiful he thought you looked, and how lovely he thought it was to hold you so close like this. It was almost too sweet, his musings and the gentle way he held you. But the pecks he placed against your neck turned into something fiercer, his teeth grazing, his breathing audible. All the while, his caresses turned too, his fingers pressed possessive against your skin, one hand moving to bring your hips as close to his as possible.

You let it happen, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades and letting out a delighted sigh. You knew this was supposed to be a fun positive experience. But you felt quite unprepared for how much you were enjoying yourself.

Jacob planted another sloppy kiss to your lips, encouraging you to match his energy.

He began to drag you a few steps in another direction, never daring to break away from the kiss you were sharing, until he had to. Jacob eased onto the side of your bed, gently pulling you into his lap. He maneuvered you into a straddle you were happy to settle into, leaving no space between the two of you, as your kisses continued.

"This all okay, doll?" Jacob hoped, as his warm hand made its way toward your breasts, still covered.

"Yes Jacob," you breathed, taking your turn in moving kisses down the man's neck, not totally sure of your execution but lead by passion what could go so wrong, you wondered?

To your delight, Jacob practically melted under your bites and licks, and you were beginning to melt a little yourself, as he kneaded at your bra.

"You can take it off. If you want." You sighed, keeping up your work at his neck, moving from one side to the other.

"Oh, I've wanted to for a longer than you know." He let out a little laugh after his confession.

You sat up to meet his gaze, asking a question with one look.

"You know I've always thought you were beautiful. But I have always wondered just how much more beautiful under all your clothes." Jacob mewled, unclasping your bra after two tries. You let the thing fall away and slide down one arm to the floor, as Jacob ogled you shamelessly. Somehow the moment didn't cause you nearly as much nervousness as you'd anticipated. The way Jacob was handling this new interaction, the way he'd been handling you; caused your nerves that kept arising the settle, provoking much more excitement than you knew you were capable of feeling in a time like now.

"Even more beautiful than my imagination has been able to conceive." Jacob grinned up to you before rolling his eyes closed on his mission to cover you in kisses.

You couldn't hold back your sigh, one you'd never heard yourself make. A noise you didn't know you were capable of producing. Jacob's lips closed around one of your nipples while he let his hand attend to the other. You could feel his pants tightening beneath you, and his messy hair tangled in your fingers as you grasped at something to ground you. Things were moving at a steady pace yet seemed to be rocketing into progression much quicker than you were prepared for.

"Jacob." You reluctantly halted him, grabbing his attention away from making you feel so good. "Jacob, I don't want to stop, but can we slow down a little?" You asked in a shaky breath, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, like you'd just run a mile.

"Of course." He promised, planting closed mouth kisses across your collarbone. "Come'er."

Jacob pushed you from his lap to the middle of the bed and adjusted himself behind you, as you took in a couple deep breaths. Then his hands found your shoulders, and began to massage the tense muscle there.

"Are you still nervous? More or less? What can I do to help?"

"Still nervous. But you've been very patient so far and I can't imagine doing this with anyone else. Thank you, Jacob."

"You're practically a natural," Jacob purred in your ear, keeping up his work on your shoulders. You began to feel more at ease under his touch, and more ecstatic by his words and the tone of his voice. "Nothing to be nervous about."

Your hum gave him a green light to follow his hands with his lips, kissing the trail of his massaging.

He soon let his hands start to wander, keeping his face in the crook of your neck as his hands trailed lightly across your chest and tummy, stalling for a brief second at the hem of your pants before ghosting back up to brush at your already exposed skin.

You flipped around crawling into a position closer, moving to undo the button of his pants.

"You sure?" Jacob asked quickly, waiting for you to nod before shedding the trousers as lazily as he removed his shirt.

"Want me to do yours?" He asked, not wondering if you'd rather handle the task, but if you were ready for the next step to be initiated at all. You told him you were ready, looking right in the guy's hooded deep brown eyes.

Jacob gently pushed you against the stack of pillows at the head of your bed. For one small moment, you paused to look at each other and smile. And then your friend shifted and reached for the button of your trousers. You watched as he hooked a couple fingers in the hem to peel the fabric away from your body, his eyes drinking in every newly exposed inch of you. You helped kicked away the pants, as Jacob reached to pull you back into his lap. In one swift move, you pushed him back into the pillows. You relished having the boy pinned below you, as you closed in for another kiss.

His hands traced across the expanses of your skin, his warm form settled beneath yours in the very best ways. You began to let your fingers trace patterns across his chest, feeling the hammer of his heart. Now both clad in nothing but underwear, the thin fabric allowed for you to feel more exactly of how worked up you'd gotten the boy.

You weren't nervous now to roll your hips against his. Or even if you might've been, they seemed to move on their own accord, your body seeking to satisfy its growing desires. Your rocking against the man's lap grew quietly more confident, and in the matter of a couple grinds you had Jacob whimpering against your lips.

Jacob gently pushed you from his lap, moving to hover over you in turn. "Okay?" He asked more succinctly but paused and watched for your confirmation just as patiently as every time before. And right as you began to nod, Jacob pressed his clothed hips against yours, encouraging your legs to open a little wider to make space for him. He kept his eyes sharply focused on yours, as he kept grinding, palming at your breast all the while. You were overcome, the coil in your belly tightening, and you hadn't even gotten to the good part.

His hand that had been working at your breast traveled downward, stalling near the hem of your underwear. Just as Jacob opened his mouth to ask if his next move was allowed, you were quicker. You grabbed his forearm and gently pushed his hand past the fabric of your undergarment, immediately glad for it.

His fingers found their way gently to your heat, giving subtle barely there caresses to the part of you that was most sensitive. Your toes curled and your heart stalled as he touched you with such tender intention. The pair of you managed to settle side by side, and without discussion, you reached to move Jacobs fingers to the spot he'd been nearly close to finding. The feeling that followed sent sparks through your nervous system, and your own hand shot out toward Jacob's underwear in response. You didn't ask, you simply slid your digits up and down the clothed length of your friend's crotch, relishing the shuttered breaths he released as you did so. The pair of you kept this up for a short moment, kissing when you weren't stealing each others breath away.

"Can we get to the part where you fuck me?" You sighed, worried that if you didn't do so soon, in the midst of your highest confidence, you'd lose the nerve. Jacob let out a quiet chuckle as he nodded, moving to shed the last of both of your clothes. Gentle as ever, he took as much time with this process as ever, making you more at ease and anxious for the next step all the same.

"Are you sure?" Jacob worried, settling between your legs. You kept one hand against his face and the other set of your fingers grasping his shoulder. You nodded quickly between shaky breaths, your nerves heightening slightly at the realization this was happening. But then Jacob shook his head. "I'm not doing anything until you relax, doll."

You were fully aware of your uneven breathing and the tensing of your body, due to the anxiousness that threatened to swallow you whole. You wanted this, you really did. But that didn't stop your nervous system from going a bit haywire during such an unprecedented situation.

"Relax." Jacob repeated. He petted your hair back and smoothed a hand across your shoulder, attempting to ease the tension you held there. You tried your best to settle a bit more comfortably against the sheets as the guy spoke up again. "Take like four deep breaths, and relax." Jacob guided you through his desired number of focused inhales, taking them in just as deeply himself. You closed your eyes during the last couple and felt yourself truly a little more at ease by way of Jacob's help and kind focus. You watched the guy breath out same as you, the fourth time, and after a beat he gave you a subtle nod.

"Good, that's better. Now, are you super sure?" He prompted, letting his hands hold you firmly against him, not daring to move until you gave your full, more at ease, confirmation. When you said yes with a smile, Jacob smiled too, and proceeded to line his hips up with yours.

As he pressed into you slow and steady, he cooed in your ear. Mumbling pet names and sweet encouragements about how good you'd already made him feel. Between his saccharine words and the pressure between your legs, you were done for.

Your breathing quickened all too soon but wasn't as shaky and uneven as before. Your skin burned with want. Your legs spread far as they could. He placed a loving hand against your temple, and you gripped his wrist as he began to move his hips in a sinfully slow manner.

The press of his lips to your throat was made more intimate by the grazing of his teeth there too. The speed at which he rocked into you began to increase, your heart rate following suit. everything felt better than you could've even fathomed. You were glad you did this with someone you knew and trusted. Someone whose hands were familiar to at least some parts of your own body and whose voice was welcomed in your ear. So glad you were doing this with someone you'd let do it all over again. So glad you're doing this with Jacob.

"You're doing so good, so good, nothing to be nervous about." The last word of his sentence was abruptly cut off by a growl the man couldn't seem to hold back.

Jacob was relentless now, pulling your hips against his as he rocked so hard against you, the bed frame kept hitting the wall. You couldn't imagine feeling much better than this, but then he asked if you were close to reaching your breaking point. You realized you'd never known before, and you really weren't sure now. "I don't know." You admitted with a twinge of worry. "It feels so good, Jacob, but I-I don't know." A sigh escaped your lips as he hit a certain spot within you. He grumbled encouragement in your ear, saying it was okay that you didn't know, and kept up his efforts.

"But I can't hold back much longer, I'm sorry." Jacob cried, his movements becoming sloppy, still heavenly though. It was your turn to encourage him, and let him know it was okay to come undone. Jacob was a goner soon after your brief pep talk, pulling himself from you as his seed spilled across your stomach. As Jacob caught his breath, he promised to go hunting for a towel to clean you up as you propped yourself on your elbows.

"Is it disappointing that I didn't come?" You worried, sitting up a little, catching your own breath. Jacob smirked, and petted back your hair, settling a little closer to you.

"I'm just glad you didn't fake it. Sometimes it just takes practice to know how to make it happen... to find out what you like, ya know?"

"Yeah, I s'pose." You contemplated, a bit cross that it hadn't happened, because it was half the reason you were eager to get this first time sorted out, so you could know how to handle yourself. Jacob had spotted a towel a few steps from your bedside, and was quick to retrieve it. And as he sweetly took to cleaning up the mess he'd made about you, he spoke up.

"You know, I never said our little educational experiment was over..." Jacob was smug, but turned up a brow to nod seriously your way and in a moment that made your cheeks flush even still after everything that had just occurred.

"Would... would you?"

Jacob said nothing. He simply dove back in to kiss you again, with more passion than ever, you thought. The man pressed you to lean against the pillows once again, as his fingers danced lower and lower down your abdomen.

"You seemed to like when I did this." Jacob cooed, letting his fingers ghost over your heat for the second time that evening, grazing a certain spot you'd once helped him find. You sucked in a breath at the feeling, giving Jacob the green light to proceed with more vigor. He pressed his fingers against you with more certainty, swirling more meaningful circles in that one spot. Jacob watched as you bit your lips together, struggling to keep an undignified moan from bursting from your chest.

"Think I must be doing something right." You friend boasted, keeping up the motions he'd settled into perfectly making. All the while, he moved to kiss you. His mouth, you were certain, must've left marks peppered across you skin as his lips moved from your neck to your throat, to your breasts and down further and further and further.

Once his lips ghosted across your core, you knew you were done for. The man let his tongue replace his fingers, as his digits moved to slide inside of you. His hair tickled your thighs, and every sensation added up together was nearly too much to process.

You thought Jacob's hands were magical, his lips and tongue were mind blowing. His warm breath, his teeth grazing, it was all more intense than you'd though it could've been. Your back arched, your hips rolled, and Jacob shouldered closer, putting as much vigor into this process as he could manage. Now, you suddenly seemed to understand the answer to his previous statement. You were close, now. You had to be. Your every sense buzzed and all you felt was increasing ecstasy.

You couldn't begin to hold back your cries of pleasure now, as Jacob worked you into a frenzy. He kept up his efforts until your legs shook, and only when you nudged his head gently away from it's latch onto your lower half, did he cease.

"I would ask if you enjoyed that but I think I know the answer." Jacob grinned, crawling to lay at your side. You laid in a daze, wondering how someone could've gotten that reaction from you. Of course it was Jacob who had.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and for no good reason at all, you both burst into a fit of laughter. Exhausted giggles, that died down when a cough alerted you to how dry your throat had become from all the harsh breathing you'd done.

Jacob insisted on taking care of you, finding water for the pair of you to drink and escorting you to the shower. You pulled him in with you, and talked about silly things as you washed up, comfortable as before in your friendship.

"Hey, thank you. I really was so scared to go through all that. But you made it easy. You made it fun." You confessed, as Jacob wrapped a towel around your frame. He ran his hands up and down your arms, warming you from the chill of the room.

"Thank you for trusting me. You'll never know how much of an honour it was, really." Jacob nodded sincerely, before pulling you into an embrace. He went home shortly afterward, promising to see you soon, and joking that he'd more than happily help you practice again, anytime. You laughed along with him, and secretly hopped he wasn't joking.

///

After he left, sleeping with Jacob constantly played back in your mind. The phantom feeling of his body lingered about your skin. You thought of little else than your dear friend, as you moved through the motions of the next day. So, to remedy your fever for the lad, you called him and asked about meeting up for dinner. He responded quickly insisting he'd love to, and that he would swing by your place a little later on. Time dragged on as you counted the minutes until he arrived.

When the knock came at your door, you opened it with perhaps too much excitement. Neither of you said anything, and a brief moment of silence filled the space between you.

"It's still a little early for dinner." You schemed. Jacob quirked a brow, stepping in as you stepped back to make room for him. He shut the door behind himself, as you crossed your fingers behind your back... "Maybe... to kill time, we could do what we did the other night?" You hoped, casting a hopeful glare up to the man before you. And before you even finished your sentence, he reached out to pull you closer, crashing his lips against yours once you'd finished talking.

It wasn't long until he had you lifted from the ground in his arms, your legs wrapped around his torso as he moved to throw you on the sofa.

"You do have a lot still to learn." Jacob smirked, untying the joggers that hugged your hips.

"But we are eating later." You demanded, craving a certain local restaurant.

"Well, I'm not waiting till later." Jacob growled, smiling as he lowered himself between your legs right away. The night spiraled into a mess of moans that were familiar to you now. When the pair of you were spent, you cleaned up and went to dinner, and then parted your separate ways.

After that night, there were four days until you were set to move away. And Jacob showed up at your door every evening with a different excuse each time.

He'd wanted to see the newest horror film in the local theater. You left halfway through to fuck in your car. Jacob mentioned that practice made perfect, and he was more than happy to help you hone this craft. You'd wanted to throw a party with all your friends before summer sent you each different way's. A whole soiree was planned in which you and Jacob skipped out early on; because the broom closet you'd snuck into wasn't giving either of you enough space to work with, and you'd both concluded this may be the last chance you got to really participate in your new found hobby.

But the next day, he found his way over all the while. And neither of you had to ask. It was only a matter of time before he had you pinned against the bathroom counter, and you'd never been happier. Just as you began reaching your climax, Jacob spoke up between sighs, "I don't want you to leave."

"Then come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me." You manage to get out the words before losing all composure. He followed close behind. But you both knew finding release together wasn't what you meant when you asked him to come along.

As you both caught your breath, Jacob brushed your hair back, and let his eyes consider all of your features. As he took too long to respond, you decided to draw a bath, and invited him to settle among the bubbles with you, where you brought up your question one more time.

"We've had lot's of practice, you know." You settled across from the man you'd come to know better than you ever expected. "Maybe we can go pro. Make it official?" You watched Jacob watch you, as you spoke.

"Was this your plan the whole time? You're twisted way of getting me to fall for you?"

"No, I genuinely just wanted your help that one night. Then it turned into many many nights. And now I don't want to ever have to worry about practicing with anyone but you."

And so after a few more rounds of questions of answers, it was decided. Jacob would follow you to a new town to live a new life. But with your oldest friend at your side and under shared sheets, you weren't so nervous about all the new things you would get to encounter, together.

───※ ·❆· ※───

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason meets baby Damian

Headcanon: Jason Todd knew about Damian Wayne's existence way before Bruce did and didn't tell the man because of everything they went through. He switched his murderous plan of vengeance, for long-term vengeance.

Talia entered the room holding a baby, the baby is sleeping as he's holds on to his mother's hip.

Jason (wide-eyed): Is that a baby?

Talia (nodding) : Yes.

Jason (worried): Is that… your baby?

Talia (firmly): Yes.

Jason (panicking): Oh God, oh God! Is it MY baby?!

Talia (frustrated): In your mind, he might be! But here in reality, we never had sex! I have stated that over a hundred times! You trying to woo me was met with rejection! I've never had sex with you. You were my surrogate son for Ra's sake! I damn sure wasn’t about to do that while you were underage and insane. What kind of person do you take me for?

Jason (blunt): You swear allegiance to your father at every turn.

Talia (cutting him off): I did NOT sleep with you though!

Suddenly, the baby sneezed, startling Talia.

Jason (jokingly): Then whose baby is it? Bruce's?

Jason chuckled, but Talia stared at him, unamused.

Talia (sighing): Yes, he is the father.

Jason (surprised, then doubtful): …No, he’s not.

Talia (insistent): He is.

Jason (musing, chuckling): …No, he’s not.

Talia (through gritted teeth): Yes. He. Is.

Jason (shaking his head) : He can’t be. No way.

Talia held up her index finger and pulled out her phone, dialing her father.

Talia (when he answers) : Father, the DNA test revealed Bruce is the father of my precious tifl, correct?

Ra's Al Ghul (sobbing): Stop reminding me of that! I only want to focus on him being an assassin, not related to that man!

Talia ended the call and looks at Jason smugly.

Talia: There you go.

Jason (stunned): You and him… had him? And… oh my God. The supposed tough man who can never fold, folded for a booty call!

Jason started chuckling, which quickly evolved into fits of laughter. He sat down, still laughing, while Talia tapped her foot impatiently.

Talia (offended): It was NOT a booty call! Our night of passion was unforgettable… especially since the condom did, in fact, break. Damn gas station contraceptives!

Jason (between laughs): You used the ones from the gas station? Oh God! Wait, wait, who had it?

Talia: He... did. They were in his wallet.

Jason (enjoying this): You’re both idiots when it comes to sex!

Talia held the baby, who had been quiet throughout their banter, close to her face.

Talia: Big Brother Jacy doesn’t understand that you are the love child of a perfect pair.

Jason laughed harder, covering his eyes.

Talia (seriously): Do not tell Bruce. He’s not ready to meet him yet.

Jason (grinning): Oh, I won’t! I’m not telling him a thing.

Talia (deadpan): You better not. If you do, I have men who can make your death look like a suicide or render you a vegetable.

Jason wiped a tear away from all the laughter.

Jason (sincerely) : Chill, Talia. I'm serious. The secret is safe with me until you're ready to tell him. It's the perfect revenge. But when that happens, send me pictures of his reaction.

Talia (rolling her eyes while cradling the baby): You’re ridiculous.

Jason (smirking): Thank you! What’s his name, by the way?

Talia (pondering): I’ve been debating different names. Ra wants me to name him… Ra Jr.? Yeah, no. I decided on Damian. Damian for my cute wittle baby.

She rubbed the baby's cheeks, making him giggle, but she stopped when she heard Jason chuckle again, but ignored his judgmental smirk.

Talia (defensively): No judgment! I’ve always wanted a baby by Bruce. Never tell my father I showed that affection.

Jason (teasing): I might.

Talia (warning): If you do—

Jason (interrupting) : Yes, yes, you’ll toss me into the river or whatever.

Talia: Yes, now since you travel here would you like to spend time with him?

Jason looked at the baby that rested his head on his mother's chest.

Jason: Sure, especially since I can rub that in Bruce's face too.

Talia: Not the healthiest mindset, but okay.

Jason: You sure are right to judge me, woman who had sex with a guy who is not with her at all and then had a baby because of a broken gas station condom—priceless!

Jason walked off, leaving Talia alone with her son. She groans, raising her left eyebrow in annoyance, but when she hears her baby yawn, she looks at him and nuzzled her nose against his cheek.

Talia (softly): My tifl.

---> Bruce finds out about Damian

---> Dick confronts Jason about keeping this secret

---> Bruce meeting his son part 2

[misc-obeyme]

cc. your tags on the boudoir post. MAMMON recieving an album of those photos. i'd love to hear your thoughts on his reaction (and everyone else's, if you're feeling particularly inspired?)

Ah, Daisy, my dear, thank you for asking!

I apologize for this late response, but I knew I was gonna be getting wordy with this one. Because I looove the boudoir photos idea in general and OH MAN just thinking about all their reactions is making me crazy lol. I was going to just do my regular sort of response, but this turned into full on headcanons oops.

So just in case anyone missed it, here is the original post!

My thoughts change a little bit depending on whether MC is present when the characters receive the pictures, so I included both! I only did the bros but I might be willing to do the rest upon request!

the brothers react to MC giving them an album of boudoir photos

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: suggestive but that's about it, nothing explicit

Lucifer

When you're with him, Lucifer is calm and courteous, but with a flare of arrogance. Of course you would give him such a special gift. It's only natural that you would trust such intimacies to him.

He asks you if you're trying to tell him something. Has he perhaps been neglecting you, MC? Did you give him this so that he wouldn't be able to help himself? He's onto you.

No matter your reason, he can't look through too many of the pictures before wanting the real thing that's sitting right next to him. Tell him you still have some of that lingerie in your possession. Especially if you happen to have some in his colors.

If you aren't with him, he's going to be a lot less arrogant in general. He will find you later, make no mistake. But he's honestly so touched by your gift that he spends a lot of time looking through the album, simply admiring you.

Mammon

Mammon is freaking out no matter where you are the time. If you're with him, it's definitely a lot worse. Blushing profusely. Opens the album then slams it shut because he can't handle looking at it for very long.

You can't help but giggle at his reaction and then it's all stop laughin' at him MC!! You'll need to take his hands or maybe kiss his cheek, let him know that you genuinely just wanted to give him a nice gift, you aren't trying to tease him or anything.

Ask him if he likes it. You'll get a serious response. Calms down enough to say 'course he likes it. Likes it so much, he suddenly can't keep his hands off you.

If you aren't with him at the time, he buries it under his pillow or otherwise hides it because this is now one of his treasures and nobody gets to see it but him!

Leviathan

Levi is another one who'd be a blushing mess no matter what, but if you're there at the time, he might retreat to his room and not let you in. He needs that barrier between you because if he sees you right now, his heart will explode.

He'll let you back in eventually, but it might be a minute. He needs to calm down. Are you trying to kill him, MC?! Even when he does let you in, he can't look at you directly. He's probably covering his face with his hands.

Reassure him that you gave these photos to him because you trust him with them. They're personal, intimate, and you want him to be close to you. He's going to calm down the more you talk to him. Pull his hands away from his face and when he sees the sincerity in your eyes, it flips a switch. Might even slip into demon form just to wrap his tail around you possessively.

If you're not with him at the time, he's going to need to take care of that raging boner of his right away. He won't be able to focus on anything else until he does. He's so embarrassed, he has to watch several episodes of Ruri Hana to recalibrate.

Satan

He will try to keep his expression unreadable. He's not having any over the top reactions, but as he flips through the photos, he keeps getting redder and redder. You're sitting right next to him, how can he not react? At some point, he has to close the album because he feels like he's looking at something he shouldn't.

Satan is quiet about how flustered he is, but he's having a hard time looking at you. He tries to say something and incomprehensible lines about how beautiful you are fall from his lips. He sounds like a broken record of spoken word poetry or perhaps a very drunk beat poet.

Recovers himself after a minute. As soon as he's composed, you're in his arms. You knew what this would do to him, didn't you, MC? You'll find yourself pressed up against the nearest wall in moments.

If you're not with him, Satan will tuck your album into a stack of his other books. He thinks it's well hidden there - in plain sight. But he's hyper aware of it. Keeps coming back to look at it. Ends up having to put it on the bottom of a stack behind a different stack to make it more difficult to get to.

Asmodeus

Thrilled. Absolutely thrilled in every way. Oh, wow, MC, you look amazing. He's breathless. He's entranced. He's even blushing because he knows what it means that you've given these to him. He's so in love with you, he can't stand it.

Asks you about everything you may be wearing. Comments on the skill of the photographer. Tells you that next time, you should do one together. He has so many ideas. He wants to do one where all you're wearing is jewelry - bright and sparkling, just like your soul.

Covers you in kisses. He's not shy about how this is making him feel, how much he wants you. He just wants to see your beautiful figure here and now in real life, MC! Won't you let him worship you?

If you're not with him, he will find you immediately so he can say all of the things he needs to say in that moment. You can't leave him alone with all these feelings, both physical and emotional. He brings them all to you without hesitating.

Beelzebub

It might take him a minute to understand exactly what he's looking at, mostly because he's never even heard of this. He doesn't know what a boudoir photo shoot is, so you might have to explain it to him. Once he understands, he starts lightly blushing as he looks through them. His expression is serious because he's beginning to see just how special this is.

Honestly surprised that you would give him something so intimate. He's touched. He's going to hug it to himself and look at you with tears in his eyes because he can't believe how lucky he is.

Give him another couple minutes to look through them and then he's having different feelings. He's not sure if he can hold back, MC. Tell him it's okay, that you don't want him to, and you'll find yourself on your back on his bed in zero seconds flat. You're quickly reminded why he's the Avatar of Gluttony.

If you're not with him at the time, he will figure things out on his own, though he'll have a plethora of questions for you later. He keeps it close to him at all times until you answer them because he knows one thing for sure - he doesn't want anyone else seeing these.

Belphegor

Oh, he sees what you're playing at. Trying to fluster him, are you, MC? Trying to rile him up? Are you sure you can handle him when you do that? He's so wound up by the gift he can't act normal about it. He's actually very touched by it, but he's not sure how to deal with the feelings, so he comes on too strong.

You laugh because to you, this is expected. You understand that this is Belphie's way of dealing with his own shyness. You respond by meeting him with just as much intensity. It's all kisses and touching and fumbling in the dark.

It's only later, when both of you are calm, when you're nestled in his arms, that he admits to you how much it means to him. That he tells you how he'll cherish the album you gave him. That he says he's stunned by how gorgeous you are, even more brilliant that the stars in the sky.

If you aren't with him at the time, you'll be dealing with a petulant but horny demon later on. He's going to be annoyed at you for leaving it for him and then not being there when it inevitably turns him on. Just as possessive as his brothers, he hides it in the attic where no one is likely to find it.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Stepdad!Hopper x Reader • age gap (reader is 21, Hop’s in his 40’s) • angst, mutual pining, masturbation mentioned, troubled marriage, Hopper is a pervert wracked with guilt aka my favorite kind of Hopper… 🤪

You wiggled on Hopper’s lap, causing him to stifle a groan. God you were beautiful. So fucking pretty and sweet, using his lap to sit in while you did your makeup at the dresser mirror.

“Thanks for the boost, by the way,” you told him, smiling at his serious reflection in the glass. “I’m too short for this dresser, I swear.” You giggled, patting your cheeks with a rosy blush. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be stretching on my tiptoes just to put my makeup on.”

Hopper swallowed back another groan as you adjusted on his lap. “But with you in this chair, and me on your lap-” You finished slicking your lips with a cherry-flavored gloss, and popped them. “-We make a great team, don’t we?”

Hopper forced a polite smile back at you, struggling internally. He shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, or doing it at all. You were so trusting of him, so naive in many ways. Even though you were an adult now, Hopper was aware of the fact that you had next to no experience with boys. He wasn’t doing anything wrong right now, by letting you sit on his lap…not technically. But because of the feelings he’d secretly had for you, for awhile now, even the most innocent gestures Hopper made toward you felt taboo…

When he’d met your mother, you’d just turned nineteen. And without an older, stable male figure in your life, you became attached to Hopper quickly. After marrying your mother the following year, Hopper hoped you’d finally begin dating, forming relationships with boys your age. But now, at twenty-one years old, you still insisted on designating Hopper the only man in your life.

He hadn’t minded, at first. Not when his relationship with your mother was going well, when she and Hopper were still being intimate together. But things had soured between them over the last six months or so, to the point that now, Hopper couldn’t remember the last time he and his wife had made love. There never seemed to be any interest on her part, leading Hopper to wonder sometimes if perhaps she were having her sexual needs met by another man?

With the tension in his marriage at a peak and its intimacy completely evaporated, Hopper found his desires traveling elsewhere in the home. He hated himself for it, despised the way he came almost daily to the thought of having you…but the woman you’d become was a temptation too great for Hopper to ignore.

Seeing you every morning, moving about the house in just your pajama shorts and a tank top like it was nothing, Hopper realized how disgusting he’d truly become. You obviously trusted him, just as you had for years, enough to prance around him half naked and think nothing of it. This realization only added to Hopper’s guilt, making him hate himself a little more each time he masturbated with your body in mind.

“There,” you said, capping your mascara and placing it on the dresser. “All done. What do you think?” You fanned your fingers around your face and batted your lashes dramatically, smiling at Hopper’s reflection.

“Beautiful,” he replied; and from the almost reverent sincerity in Hopper’s tone, you knew he meant it.

You slid off his lap, his hands immediately moving to your hips to steady you as you dismounted. Hopper rose from the chair, turning aside so you wouldn’t see him discreetly adjust himself in his pants.

He sighed with relief, feeling as if he’d passed some kind of test. “Hey,” he said. “You really do look great, kid. But-.” Hopper moved his finger to boop your powdered nose. “-Who’s all this for, anyway? You gettin’ all dolled up just for the hell of it?”

You glanced down at the floor, a blush warming your cheeks beneath the makeup. “I…uh,” you stammered bashfully. “I have a date.”

Hopper’s eyebrows lifted, his lips parting in surprise. “A date?” he asked, before quickly softening the accidental sharpness in his voice. “Oh. Who’s the lucky guy?”

There was a pause before you answered Hopper, and he found it a bit strange that you didn’t answer him right away. Maybe you were just shy, he wondered? This was the first date Hopper had ever known you to have, in the two years he’d known you. Maybe the situation was so new, you didn’t know how to talk about it casually?

“Uh, just a guy from work,” you explained. “You’d like him, he’s funny. But serious too, when he needs to be.” You bit your glossy bottom lip, chuckling. “He kinda reminds me of you, Hop.”

Your stepdad’s eyebrow quirked curiously, as if he doubted your sincerity. “Hmm,” he muttered. “You meeting this guy somewhere?”

“At the new mall they just built, yeah,” you replied, checking your look again in the mirror. “We’ll probably see a movie, or something.”

Hopper nodded, another polite smile once again fixed onto his face. “Well, be safe,” he told you, and gently squeezed your shoulder before heading for the door.

“Just, one more thing,” Hopper said, lingering in your doorway. “What’s this kid’s name, anyway?”

You froze outwardly, but your mind was scrambling for a response. “Jack,” you blurted. “His name’s Jack. He’s a nice guy, really.”

Hopper’s brow was creased in ‘detective mode,’ a familiar expression for him, but one you rarely saw directed at yourself. He nodded silently as he exited your room, patting the doorframe on his way out. You watched Hopper leave, exhaling the knot of tension you’d been holding.

“Like I said,” he called from the hallway as he walked away. “Be safe.”

Be safe. A sentiment that struck you as both ironic and unnecessary, as you observed your made-up reflection in the mirror…the mirror you could easily access, without having to strain. You hadn’t needed Hopper’s lap to boost you; you wanted him to be there. The innocence you feigned around your stepfather was as fake as your date for the evening, Jack.

The truth, which as always is more complicated than fiction, was that you’d been in love with Hopper for awhile now. You weren’t as naive as he (and your mother) thought you were. What you lacked in actual life experience, you made up for in observing others. And as you began to see problems in your mother and Hopper’s marriage arise, you watched each crack form on the surface with a growing interest.

Although Hopper didn’t realize it, your choosing him as the only man in your life was not an accident. You didn’t want anyone else; you wanted him. Tonight had been a test, to gauge his reaction to you actually having a date for once. And from the way Hopper had reacted, his change of tone, his sudden and deliberate need for details, you were convinced that jealousy was at play in his response.

Reaching for your bag, you checked to make sure you had your car keys and enough cash on you for a movie ticket and some popcorn. You’d go to the mall and see a movie, just as you’d told Hopper, minus a date…

…or at least, you thought you’d be going alone. You didn’t notice, as you exited the driveway and drove through the streets of Hawkins, that another (very familiar) vehicle was discreetly following a few cars behind you.

Hopper wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to see, with his own eyes, the boy you’d suddenly, uncharacteristically, made the choice to go out with. The expression ‘know your enemy,’ may have been resting at the back of Hopper’s mind as he followed you to the mall; but more accurately, Hopper was hoping to know his competition…

PART TWO

[dyadicjustice]

can u do like a hazelxreader best friends to lovers

like they’ve both been secretly in love with each other and pining for years but were too scared to say anything (and maybe smut if u write that but if not that’s totally good)

ooooh let me see what magic i can work, bestie. aged up the characters to be in college, so rockbridge falls high is now rockbridge university. unfortunately no smut this time because i am awful at it 😅 but i hope you enjoy this little blurb instead

ao3 link for if u prefer to read there :)

At 11:30, Professor G's class let out without anyone having learned anything actually in the syllabus. But for you, there wasn’t much room in your mind for history lessons anyway. You were too distracted by Hazel sitting next to you, scrolling on Twitter and excitedly showing you every adorable cat meme she came across. 

You’d known each other since the 3rd grade, and it was safe to say that some things never change— especially not your love for one another as best friends. At least until the end of Senior Year, when you’d started to realize that change was inevitable, and you’d fallen hard for her.

You’d been overcompensating these past couple months. You’d purposely try to fly under the radar, so she wouldn’t notice you pining or the countless lingering looks and lip biting. Desperation was heavy in your bones, settled deep in your core. So when you finally return to your shared dorm, she asks, “Seriously y/n, it seems like you’re not even here most days. What’s going on?”  

You know you can’t lie to her. You can’t lie to those dazzling grey eyes, so warm and sweet and sincere. So you sigh and admit, “Are you ready to receive some potentially devastating information that could change the state of our friendship forever?”

She blinks and lets out a quiet chuckle, “Uh, no promises, weirdo. What’s up?” 

“Hazel, I’m being serious. It’s like... important,” you whine.

She hikes an eyebrow at your nervous demeanor, taking a beat to take in your features. She’s suddenly fully aware you’re uncomfortable when you start to wring your hands a bit. To calm your fidgeting, she slips her hands in between them and intertwines your fingers. You feel her sweet gesture start to soothe you, like when puppies snuggle up to you to help you stop crying.

She whispers, “What’s wrong, bean?”

Your eyes start to water at the nickname. “You have to promise you won’t get upset”, you choke out.

She wraps her arms around your neck in a comforting embrace, and whispers in your ear, “I promise. You can tell me, only if you’re comfortable and ready.” And her considerate nature makes you want to cave and sob right then and there.

“I love you, Hazel. But, I also… I just… I’m in love with you.” You can’t even meet her eyes out of pure embarrassment. You feel her fingers snake beneath your chin, and she gently tugs until you’re looking into her eyes. She stares into yours, into your soul, really. She whispers, “y/f/n, I’ve been dreaming of hearing you say that for years.” You both giggle. You joke, “That’s such a fucking relief because I would’ve shat myself if you rejected me.” 

“I could never reject you, bean! Thank you for being brave enough to tell me.” You can hear the smile in her voice. “But I am curious, when did you realize you felt that way?”

You sigh, “Honestly? I knew I was sure when we went to Senior Prom together, so 6 months maybe? But I also would say, I’d felt something since we were like 10. I just hadn’t realized how deep my love was back then.”

Hazel murmurs, “You made Prom Night so magical. You looked lovely. Not to mention, you just had this magnetism to you that had everybody staring. I was fighting the urge to kiss you the entire evening. It was hardest during the slow dance.”

You admit that you had felt similarly, explaining, “It was hardest for me to resist when you had that little bit of whipped cream stuck on your lip when we went to Denny’s after. I wiped it away with a napkin, but I wish I’d just gone for it.” 

You stare up at her lovingly as a subtle silence emerges between you, your eyes scanning her features before dropping to her lips. Without saying a word, you crash your lips together. Hers taste like… well, like nothing and like everything at the same time. Just chapstick and love. 

And it’s not your first time kissing a girl by any means, But you can already tell it’s your favorite after only ten seconds. 

Hazel pulls away, breathless, “So just to be clear, what does this make you and me?” She smirks.

You hold her cheek with one hand and hook the other around the back of her neck, scratching the back of her head. Her jaw goes slack and her eyes flutter. You reply, “Horny, Hazel. It makes us really fucking horny.”

She smirks, “Maybe we should… do something about that. Your place or mine?” She dopily wiggles her eyebrows. It’s made even more ridiculous by the fact that your beds are just feet away from each other.

You shoot back, giggling, “Yours. I don’t wanna fuck up my sheets right now.”

She scoops you up bridal style and sets you down on her bed. Those months of pre-season training for rugby had made her insanely strong despite her short and lean figure.

She kisses your forehead and replies, “Whatever you wish, Your Majesty.”

[bosbas]

Chapter 10: writing letters addressed to the fire

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.8k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, pining, like a lot of pining, anthony being controversial

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: they're so in their evermore era i can't

July 7, 1814 - The expectations were as high as the chandeliers at the Bridgerton Ball two nights prior. And the night did not disappoint. Our forgone diamond of the season made an appearance at the social event. A fact that is expected given the close relationship between the Beaumonts and Bridgertons, but a pleasant surprise given her recent absence from social happenings. While previously the center of attention, Miss Beaumont danced only once at the Bridgerton Ball with one Mr. Alexander Beaumont. Yes, dear reader, her brother. This leaves us with the lingering question: why did Miss Beaumont choose her brother over the allure of a potential match? It seems that Miss Beaumont is simply tired of the ton's social scene, or perhaps she has lost some of her shine now that her best friend has left for the countryside. 

He cleared his throat, rubbing his thumb on his lower lip. Finally meeting your eyes, he said, "Well, I was wondering if you'd want to marry me."

You choked, completely taken aback. "Are you alright, Anthony?" you asked, nervously laughing. "Was the whiskey too strong for you after all?"

He pinched his nose, annoyed at your flippant response, but couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Be quiet! I'm trying to help you!" he said, laughing.

You were in hysterics now, too. "Help me?! Help me how, pray tell," you managed to get out between giggles.

"You are impossible! How Benedict deals with you so regularly, I have no idea!" he shot back, poking you in the arm as he said each word.

You gasped in mock offense. "Low blow, Anthony, even for you," you said, shaking your head at him, unable to keep from laughing. "Surely you're joking. Why should I let you marry me?"

"Let me marry– Bloody hell, Y/N, and excuse my language, but really, I am coming from a good place here, and you are making it so difficult," he responded, clearly exasperated by your inability to take him seriously.

You ceased laughing and looked at him directly, cocking your head and widening your eyes when you realized he was being sincere. "Anthony? Surely you're joking, right? Does Alex know? He'll kill you if he finds out you proposed to his little sister."

He sighed deeply, shifting in his seat. "Look, I am not joking. But let me explain first, and then you can ask me questions."

You could do little but stare at him, lips parted in confusion. "Go on, then," you said finally, very interested in hearing an explanation for this incredibly unexpected proposal.

Anthony looked over to where Alex was sitting, deep in conversation with your father, and then looked back to you. He turned in his seat so he was fully facing you, one hand on the back of his chair and the other on his knee, contemplating how best to explain himself without sounding insane. "I know it sounds like a crazy idea. Trust me, I can barely imagine it myself. But I do think it might be a good one," he said finally, hoping to get some kind of response from you, only to be met with a blank stare. You were still entirely unconvinced of his proposal, barely believing that he was being serious. 

"Listen, what you said two nights ago is not something I take lightly, given that you mean so much to us, to me and Benedict and our family. And I can see that you're having a rough go of it. The roughest go of it, actually," he continued.

"And you think marrying me will solve my problems because...?" you cut in, not quite following Anthony's logic.

"Well, I've been trying to explain my thought process for the past five minutes, but you're making it awfully hard, Y/N," he shot back, raising his eyebrows at you, amused. You rolled your eyes good-naturedly in response but sat back so you could let him continue.

"This might make more sense if I explain my side of things a bit more, actually," he decided, mentally rearranging what he was going to say to you. "Alex and Simon already know this, but my intention has never been to marry for love. Above all, I view marriage as a duty to my family. Since my father passed, I have been the one responsible for them, and they are the dearest thing in the world to me, as you well know."

At the mention of Edmund, you reached out and placed a hand on Anthony's, remembering how difficult it was for the family when his father passed. He shot you a grateful smile, covering your hand with his and clearing his throat before he continued speaking.

"I will be perfectly candid with you, Y/N, because you deserve nothing less. I was planning on looking for a wife next season, but even so, I believe that pursuing love is an unpleasant and unimportant endeavor, at least for me."

You gasped, slightly taken aback at his cynical views, though yours weren't much sunnier. "Don't you want to fall in love, Anthony? Don't you think you'll find a partnership like the one your parents had?" you prodded, overwhelmed by a sense of sadness. But you also felt somewhat understood, knowing now that Anthony had an unconventional view of marriage.

He gave you a knowing look, saying only, "Don't you?"

Knowing he had a point, you let up. "Fair enough, I suppose," you answered. Is that how you sounded when you spoke of getting married? You were completely disillusioned with the notion, but you had given it more than a few honest tries, while Anthony was set on never looking for a love match. It was quite ironic, seeing how much your parents loved each other and the love between Daphne and Simon, that you and Anthony had developed such depressing views on marriage. You saw Anthony nod in your direction, seemingly happy with your answer.

After a slight pause, Anthony winced, knowing he was about to share much more than he usually would. However, he knew that this would potentially benefit you both, so he fought through the discomfort. "Seeing my mother fall apart after Father died was awful to watch, and I would never want to cause someone that pain. My goal is not to find passion but to secure my family's future. And I was hoping to find someone who would want this different sort of partnership," he said, looking at you pointedly. You had already started connecting the dots in your head and thought you were catching on to where this was going now.

"So you want to have an unconventional marriage together, then?" you asked, hoping you had understood correctly.

He patted your hand, relieved you finally understood what he intended the proposal to sound like rather than the abrupt and blunt question he had asked earlier. "Yes, precisely. Of course, I want you to take as much time as you need to consider this decision since it is quite important. I doubt we would seek an expedited marriage license, but obviously, we can sort out the minutiae later if you decide to do this. There is no pressure one way or another, I simply wanted to give you an option you had probably not considered before," he said, searching your face for any reaction.

However, you remained guarded, still unsure about your feelings. Saying yes to this proposal would definitively mean saying no to Benedict. But Benedict had not even asked you anything, you argued internally. There was nothing to say no to. In fact, he had been the one to say no to you. But you didn't know if you were ready to give up all hope yet. Perhaps you were a fool, but then again, you always were when it came to your best friend.

If you accepted Anthony's proposal, would the now-permanent ache in your chest worsen at the knowledge that you could never have Benedict? Or would you feel better, getting closure Benedict would never give you?

You felt a surge of anger shoot up your spine. Why couldn't Benedict be the one asking you this? After twenty years, why was he the one who left you alone and confused while Anthony was left to pick up the broken pieces of you Ben left behind so carelessly? Even setting aside the added issue of your unrequited feelings for Benedict, Anthony was being a much better friend than him right now. But your anger dissipated quickly, dissolving into desperate sadness. You missed Ben so much; the short letters he had been sending were unsuccessful in placating the ever-growing need to feel his presence beside you. The overwhelming sense that something about you was missing was almost too much to handle, and you felt yourself going around in circles in your head about what you wanted to do.

You knew it could never be the same with Benedict regardless, so you reasoned that you would at least consider Anthony's proposal. You owed it to yourself to consider someone other than Benedict and something other than perpetual singledom without any children to raise or read to.

Realizing Anthony was patiently waiting for you to say something in response, you spoke up. "In theory, this doesn't sound like a terrible partnership," you started, laughing when Anthony snorted and muttered a short "Why, thank you."

"Shush! I'm trying to consider your proposal, and you're making it quite difficult to spend longer than twenty minutes with you, let alone the rest of my life," you joked, stomach dropping slightly when you mentioned the concept of forever. Pushing through your fear, you kept speaking, "I know you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I know you would not do something like this without a plan. So tell me your plan, and I will consider it and give you my answer once I have one."

Anthony couldn't help but laugh at your scolding tone, "You're not wrong." However, he knew he had to be careful about how he presented his reasoning for this proposal. It was no secret that he thought his brother a complete buffoon for refusing to marry you. Anyone could see that your best friend was madly in love with you, and Anthony was beyond confused as to why Benedict was being obtuse and frankly stupid when you so clearly loved him just as much.

It was hard to miss the alarmingly fond looks the two of you exchanged, not to mention what must be dozens of sketches of you in Benedict's studio, try as he might to make it look like there weren't that many. But what really made it the most obvious was Benedict's manner of speaking about you. It was beautiful to hear when Ben forgot himself and spent nearly an hour discussing a fascinating observation you had made about one of his paintings. Or when he saw Eloise reading a book you had read and launched into a speech about your genius way of interpreting a particular passage. Or even when Anthony inquired about any of the paintings of you in his studio and his brother began a lengthy explanation of how he wanted to paint your eyes in a way that captured your thoughtful yet soft gaze, in Ben's words. Benedict's unwavering and wholehearted admiration of you rivaled that of his parents. It seemed to Anthony that you were the sun, and Benedict was happy to be in your orbit if only to relish in the warmth and comfort you brought him. And the same could be said for you.

So, choosing his words carefully, Anthony avoided saying anything that would upset you, knowing you were still raw from Benedict's sudden departure a few weeks ago. "To start, a legal union between our families would only strengthen our bond, and I know we both would still like to remain close with our families after we are married."

Gauging a positive reaction from your raised eyebrows and slight nod, he continued. "Perhaps the most obvious advantage is that we would have the marriage we both want. I would, of course, encourage you to continue pursuing your studies after we were married, and though I would like to have children, and I know you do as well, I am in no particular rush if you don't feel ready yet," he continued.

To be fair, Anthony made a compelling argument. Although your ideal marriage was still the one you had imagined with Benedict as a child, Anthony was realistically the best option for you, especially with the men of the ton being as dreadful as they were and Ben off in the countryside for who knows how long.

"I don't want to feel suffocated by my husband, Anthony," you warned, earning a laugh from him.

"I know you think I'm insane, but I promise I don't want to be a suffocating husband. We want a lot of the same things, just for different reasons," he responded, ready to answer any and all rebuttals you had. Anthony knew this would be a difficult decision, and he had come prepared with the utmost patience to ensure he got rid of all of your doubts to the best of his abilities. Having watched you grow up and grown up alongside you, he had a deep fondness for you, often feeling as protective over you as he did over Eloise or Daphne. Anthony cared about you and wanted the best for you, no matter what that might entail. And if he could find a wife a season earlier than he had expected while you got what you deserved, that was just an added bonus.

In the back of his mind, Anthony hoped that if you accepted his proposal, Benedict might come to his senses before the engagement progressed too far. But he would be a fool to count on his brother to do so, based on how Ben had acted so far. Anthony knew it would be cruel to tell you this and raise your spirits only to be disappointed again. If it came to it, Anthony would be happy to marry you. It was a very practical union, and Anthony quite liked practical things.

"It makes sense, in a way, I suppose. We do want similar things," you muttered to yourself. "And you'd let me read as much as I wanted?" you asked, needing reassurance.

"I promise," answered Anthony, smiling sweetly at you. "Besides, we are already very acquainted with one another, having grown up together, and I'm sure it'd be good fun to be married. Well, at least I think so. And you know me well enough to be able to make that decision for yourself."

You nodded thoughtfully, mulling over all of the possible caveats you could think of to bring up to Anthony. If you were going to go through with this, you needed to be absolutely sure that it was what you wanted. Although it was getting difficult to find negatives about this possible union. It seemed that you would have much more agency with Anthony than if you were married to anyone else, bar Benedict, or as a spinster.

"What about Alex?" you settled on asking. "Have you talked about this with him?"

Both of you subconsciously turned to look at your older brother and then at each other. Anthony gave a slight shake of his head. "No, not yet. But I have a feeling he'll understand and even be supportive. Especially after the other night. And especially now that Benedict left."

You furrowed your brow, confused. What did Anthony mean, especially now that Benedict left? You were about to ask for clarification when Anthony cut in.

"Anyway, don't worry about Alex. I will talk to him and your father, and I know they will be on board with whatever you choose. So all you have to do is decide if this is something you want to do or not," he said quickly, trying to make up for the fact that he had revealed too much before. Anthony knew Alex had similar feelings to Anthony, perhaps even more pent-up anger at Benedict than he did since Benedict was hurting Alex's little sister. But he hadn't meant to tell you so directly. Anthony mentally kicked himself for rubbing salt on your metaphorical wound. Although it seemed that you had let go of his comment, for now, he noted as he watched you rubbing your temples, deep in thought.

You sighed deeply, coming to the realization that this could be it. This decision could change your life forever, and perhaps Benedict's life, depending on how he handled the news. If you accepted the proposal, of course. You couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of guilt, knowing that you could never feel for Anthony the same way you felt about Benedict.

"And you'd be alright with me not being in love with you? I don't think I can do that again. After Benedict," you said softly, still wanting to avoid thinking about losing him as much as possible.

"Yes, I would prefer it, actually," said Anthony, smiling at you. But his playful demeanor was wrapped in a careful tenderness. He understood you better than most people, having learned to see you, above all, through Benedict's eyes. He knew you were terrified. Of being married and not being married, of losing yourself and of staying exactly the same as you were now.

He was terrified, too, to be honest. He knew Benedict would be impossibly angry with him, even though he really had no reason to be, and feared their relationship could be fractured. Not to mention that Anthony had been dreading marriage ever since that fateful day his father fell ill from a bee sting, leaving his mother alone in the empty shell of their loving partnership. He supposed the two of you did sort of make sense in a peculiar way.

"Alright, go away, please," you shooed Anthony away. "I have to actually think about it now. But no matter what happens, I want you to know I'm grateful for your offer. I know it's coming from a very generous place, and it really does mean the world," you added, squeezing his hand as he stood up.

"Of course, Y/N. I'm not Benedict, but you're very important to me nonetheless. Take as much time as you need," he responded, returning your squeeze and making his way over to Colin and Theo, giving you space to mull over your decision.

That was precisely the situation, you thought. Anthony wasn't Benedict. And you had to decide whether or not that was good enough for you. It was a very compelling offer, and you knew it might be your only chance to have anything close to the sort of life you had hoped to have before Henri and the rest of the men of the ton so pointedly crushed your dreams. Benedict was the only reason not to marry Anthony, and he had been quite clear in saying that he wouldn't marry you. But you wanted to enjoy a few more days of imagining that Ben could be yours in some capacity before you had to move on from him forever.

---

Shoving a pile of unsent letters aside, Benedict set a fresh sheet of paper down and started yet another letter he was unlikely to send to you. Now that he had ceased going to parties and bringing home a different woman every night, he found himself with ample bouts of time that he dedicated almost exclusively to thinking about you.

With each new letter you sent, Benedict found himself lost in your words, re-reading them constantly and clinging to any fragment of you that he could still claim as his. In response, he wrote pages and pages of prose he would never send. These ranged from letters he could plausibly send to you, responding to every comment you had made about the book you had read that day. Others were less tame. Sometimes, he found himself unable to keep his overflowing feelings inside of him any longer, choosing instead to write heart-wrenching confessions of a love so deep and all-consuming that it permeated every fiber of his being. But Anthony's words reverberated in his head, warning him not to lead you on, every time he contemplated addressing these letters.

But Benedict loved you. The real, soul-crushing sort of love that only came once in a lifetime. The kind of love that grew from years of being by your side, knowing every detail of you, and still wanting to know more. He was far past the point of denying it and had now stumbled on an agonizing feeling of wanting. He wanted you by his side while he painted, quietly discussing the colors or the shading he was working on. He wanted to put his head in your lap as you sat in the garden, feeling your fingers running softly through his hair. He wanted to look over at night and find your sleeping form beside him, less than an arm's length away as he fell asleep holding you. Most of all, he wanted to be content in the knowledge that he could hold your hand, breathe in your scent, and twist your hair in his fingers as he kissed you every single day for the rest of his life. 

The moment in your garden by the rose bushes from the day before he left, where he came so close to kissing you, haunted his every waking moment. He couldn't seem to forget the way your lips parted, moving ever so slightly closer to his. The feeling of your soft breath against his skin, luring him in. He had been so close to just giving in and touching your expectant lips with his. It was all he had dreamed about doing ever since he had come back from Oxford and felt you in his arms, realizing that he never wanted to spend another day apart from you. He still wondered what would have happened if he had just done it. If he had just leaned over a few inches to join your lips and brushed his thumb on your cheek as he grabbed your waist. But he hadn't. Instead he had fled to the countryside, where he was missing you more than ever and ridden with jealousy at the thought of you with another man. 

Benedict didn't know if the ache of longing would ever fade. All he knew was that you were a permanent mark left on him he would never be able to wash off even if he wanted to. A part of him would always be you. The proof of that was on his desk cluttered with letters that would never find their way to you and in his studio housing nearly a dozen unfinished portraits of you.

Clutching to a sliver of hope, he held onto the fact that no news of your engagement had reached him. Yet, each day brought with it a tormenting dread as he approached his unopened letters, torn between the desperate hope for a letter from you and the paralyzing fear that he would receive an invitation to your wedding. But for now, he could still pretend you were his, at least partially.

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!): @bellahadidnt16 @like-gabriel-and-castiel @riverraingrayworld @5sos-calm @elissanatok @titanicnerd-blog @noonenuts @moonwayne @lilasblogg @mmontgomeryb @fulltacoparadise @joyfullymulti @sopanngon @fanfiction-she-wrote @aureolinb @ambitionspassionscoffee @bbubbllejisoo @marvelspogue @avengersgirllorianna

[caramel-maveeato]

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇʟʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇᴢᴇꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: sacrifice is inevitable if victory was yearned for… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x Fem!reader ♡ Genre: sight fluff, angst, hurt/slight to no comfort ♡ TW: blood, crying, wounds, gore, cursing, death, self-harm, spoilers for ss2 ep12. ♡ word count: 2.1k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n.

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

A gentle glimpse of sunset snuck through the window, bathing in his entrancing eyes like a pond of honey: “‘Til death do us part. I mean it.” 

“Damnnn, you’re so cheesy today!” You snorted, nudging your shoulder against your boyfriend's, who was quick to retaliate with a playful flick on your forehead.

“Oh shush. But I’m serious. I won’t die, and you won’t die, and everyone on our team won’t die. That’s it, I’ll make sure we all survive no matter what.” 

Despite his lighthearted tone, you could tell So Mun was beyond sincere about keeping his promise, and so were you. No matter how deadly it is waiting on the future path, everyone will make it out alive. 

“Um-hm, am I that dear to you?”

He scoffed, but there was no sign of mockery or ridicule, only playfulness emerged: “Yes, you are. First time knowing?”

“Please, I’m almost sick of how many times you said you unequivocally adored me, like everyday morning alarms, y’know?” You giggled, wiggling your index finger out in front of his face and quickly withdrawing it when he faked biting you: “But I still want to hear you verify it one more time, is that too much of a request?”

“After you had the audacity to say you’re getting sick of it, I’m sorry to announce your request has been declined.”

“Noooo.”

“Yeeees.”

“I take back what I said, I could never get sick of how many times you express your cheesy little lovey-dovey words for me. Like everyday morning alarms, but that means I can’t wake up and function normally without them.”

“Switched up smoother than I expected.” His effort at holding back a laugh evaporated: “That’s it? You just gotta be all sweet again after the “damage” you’ve caused? Your attitude is getting out of hand.”

You snickered, swiftly stealing a peck on his cheek to demonstrate an “apology” you knew he’d happily accept: “Verify it one more time and I’ll shut my attitude up.”

“I’ll do what you asked, but don’t shut it up.” A honeyed kiss pressed down on the top of your head. His arms closed around your waist a little tighter, enfolding the intimacy of your afternoon cuddle session to its fullest: “When hell freezes over, that’s when I’ll let go of you, satisfied now?”

You grinned, not acknowledging a dusting of pink already saturated across your cheeks. No matter what your level of lactose tolerance was, his “cheese” was always perfect for you in terms of ingestion: “Satisfied.”

The group portrait tranquilly sat on your desk, smiling at you two through its frame with the same encouragement. You and So Mun were the only ones in the room, yet the sense of security it conveyed still made you feel complete. 

“Everyone in this picture will make it until the end.” 

“I already did my part, what about you? Still determined to be stubborn and not say it back?”

Confronted by a tilt of his head, which was one of his ridiculously adorable tactics to persuade you. You eventually let out a frisky sigh and laid your head on his shoulder, eyes closed under the serenity of being with your beloved other half:

“Alright, ‘til death do us part. I mean it too.”

‘Til death do us…

‘Til death…

‘Til…

Too many things happened in just a short span of time, but all enervation departed as the unrelenting battles now came to an end. Knowing he had brought such miracles summoning Hwang Pilgwang, the overwhelming pressure intruding on his heart finally rested. 

For the first time in months, So Mun could finally escape the hushed corridors of his own mind. 

Finally.

As much as his teammates adored him, they weren’t dramatic people. Yes, it was a near-death experience for all, but the entire team knew they had succeeded, so there was absolutely no reason for them to give him such pained looks. His random thought contorted into an affirmation that they weren’t crying because he remained passed out longer than supposed.

The revolting metallic smell in the room sickened him to the core, yet it stood no chance against how atrociously nauseous So Mun felt being greeted by teary faces as the first thing after he woke up. 

For years he was never this afraid of his own voice, afraid of asking a question that might assemble answers he didn’t want to hear: “What’s wrong…?”

Only suppressed sniffles responded to him. 

The ambiguity only added more confusion to his already fuzzy sight. As much as he tried to deny it, something within him had already enclasped the possible truth he’d choose death over knowing.

Why was everyone crying? And why were you lying there on Hana’s lap, eyes closed, unmoved? 

“Noona, she, Y/n…” Fright clogged up inside his throat, making words stumble. The more he tried to stay calm, the more his composure shattered like a sand castle under ruthless waves: “What’s… what’s wrong with Y/n, why is she…?” 

He could feel Jeokbong’s hand supporting his back as he lunged over to your side. The sudden outbreak of panic was dizzying, yet he paid no attention to it. 

Reddened eyes of his teammates all ran away from him, obscuring themselves from a cry threatening to burst. So Mun inhaled shallowly, his own lungs betraying him with how torturously aching it was with each breath taken upon seeing your body now completely motionless. 

The welcoming warmth of your fingers was replaced with a vague, yet disturbing coldness, benumbing his skin when he grabbed your hand. The shock he felt appeared no different from receiving a thousand strikes at once, inside his ear rang a quiet shriek of nothingness: “Ms. Chu, please tell me…” 

At her name being mentioned, all the anguish she bit back for long unleashed in a choked snivel—a realization to So Mun that this wasn’t just some cruel, twisted nightmare he thought he was having. 

Time seemed suspended, sealed within the shadow of horror. 

This is not a dream. 

“No, there must be…” He stammered, squeezing your hand as an expectation that you’d return the gesture like you’ve always done: “Ms. Chu, there must be a way to save her. You can heal her, right? Y/n is strong, with your help, she’ll wake up in no time.” 

His voice died down when the woman closed her eyes, letting hopeless tears pour down her bruised face. He looked at Motak, then Jangmul, then Hana, then Jeokbong, one by one, desperately searching for a gleam of the dullest light he could at least clutch onto. 

Nothing worked. What happened had already happened.  

He took a closer look at your face, only to be pierced by a blade of emptiness. He had always loved to admire your sleeping face—so relaxing, so gentle, so peaceful. But not like this. No matter how loudly he called your name or how hard he shook your shoulders, you still lay there like a soulless doll, so close to him yet horrendously out of reach: “Y/n, wake up…. We won, we finally won…”

Calloused fingers stroked along your cheeks, looking for the slightest hint of miraculous movement. He was known to be good at performing miracles, but at the moment, even his miracles were impotent to save you.

So Mun had never felt so fucking useless.   

“No, she will be okay…” The facade of incredulity crumbled and he found himself seizing you into his arms, clinging onto the thin thread of fictional faith despite already noticing your body lacked the familiar warmth he fell in love with: “Y/n will be okay. She—she promised me she’ll be fine, she’s just taking a nap.”

Hands patting on his back like a call to the truth and cries eventually broke out, yet So Mun was too senseless to care about any of them. His mind was too busy hunting for your heartbeat, but all he received was the echo of silence. 

He pressed his hand on the side of your neck, eyes sore and fingers trembling lamentably at the absence of life. But the growling heartbeat of his own gave him hope—he could feel its rhythm through his digits. That could be your pulse, right, that must be your pulse, he can feel it.  

“She will be okay, we’re okay. I promised all of us would—”

The mutters of your name sank in the weight of disbelief, of false reassurance. His own tears wracked his body, dropping and dampening a piece of your soiled tracksuit like rain that slowly blasted into thunderstorms. 

He stared blankly into the lifelessness you were holding, dirt stains and blood-dried cuts of yours dyed his fingers with monstrous pain. Suddenly, his own existence felt alien, as if he were an outsider peeking into a world he didn’t belong in.

So much for “everyone will make it until the end,” now what?

He is a liar. 

He is a fucking liar.

For one of the rarest times in his life, he regretted trying. So Mun knew exactly what it felt like to regret. Each time, there was an explosive outrage at the injustice that had befallen him. But this one was the most destructive. 

Maybe Ma Juseok was right—what was the point in risking his life to save others? He tried so hard and worked so hard just for fate to repay all of these fucking efforts by destroying everything he had.

A lie. Maybe it really was a lie. 

Maybe this goddamn self of his was a lie. 

His distorted reflection spun and spun and spun like an annoying bug that kept buzzing despite numerous attempts to kill it. He had no idea where he was or how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity knowing you hadn’t reached Yung. Just where are you? You didn’t vanish from the final battle’s impact, did you?

So Mun needed to see you again, or he’d go fucking crazy. 

The palpable heaviness in the air suffocated him. So Mun never hated his own reflection before, not until right now.

Colors deformed into the entrance of an abyss he wished to just jump into—black of darkness, white of Yung, muted grey of guilt.

And red, too. 

“So Mun! That’s enough!!”

Frightened yellings and sounds of falling glasses slashed on his ears. Yet So Mun couldn’t quite hear or feel anything, not even the hideous pain he just put himself through. 

Footsteps congested the bathroom he was in, tears that once dried up erupted again. Hana grasped his wrist tightly, almost fearfully, and god, the warmth exuded nearly drove him mad with how much he missed yours. 

“Stop hurting yourself, you know it doesn’t change anything! She’s gone!” The crack in Hana’s voice flooded his eyes. They couldn’t even pronounce your name around him, afraid of how much it might trigger him. 

Jeokbong’s cries in the distance and Ms. Chu’s pleas were helpless to distract the profound grief, more like a bargain for fate to rewrite itself: “Let it out, but please, you know it also hurts me to see you like this!”

The woman emanated a green radiance to envelope his hand, trying to console the blood-soaked skin he created himself from a brutal contact made against the mirror, tiny fragments of sharpness punctured on each of his knuckles. Shards warped together with flesh in a grotesque mess, crimson swathed the once-tidied floor and the paleness of his skin. It hurt his eyes. It hurt everyone's eyes. 

You used to say he looked good in red. Red tracksuits, red hoodies, red blazers. But you hated it when he was covered in the redness of blood. Does this mean he just failed you again?

“I’m sorry…” 

Was he saying this to his teammates or to you? He had no fucking clue. But the only thing he could recognize was how much effort it took to breathe, he didn’t feel like himself inside his own skin anymore when everything around him seemed fulminated. 

Strong arms whooshed him into an embrace, cramming So Mun’s hot tears and muffled sobs into a reliable shoulder. No words were spoken, but Motak’s bellowing heartbeat was already a silent bawl. 

Losing a loved one was like having life’s chapters torn out, leaving an unfinished tale with ragged ends that never fully fit in tandem. It can recover, and he can heal. Just not at the moment.

Shattered pieces of blood-drenched mirror reflected a history that repeated itself. Again, again, and again.

Winter was just gone by, hell didn’t freeze over. But the reality So Mun cherished still collapsed on that day.

[Tag List]✿⌦ @slytherinshua (feel free to notify me if you want to be on the tag list)

Thanksgiving is near so here’s angst I guess 🫶🏻 FLUFF AFTER THIS I PROMISE

[thosefuzzywordfeelings]

Can I make a request?

Eddie munson with 67 and/or 68?

If not, that's totally fine. But either way, Thank you!

whewwww i love those prompts so much 😮‍💨 thank you for the rq! ✨

CW; mention of slight violence from eddie towards someone else (protective king), spanking, slight? choking 😌✨

“Eddie, I’m serious. Like, deadass serious right now.”

“I couldn’t hurt you love. Not that far. Little smack on this pretty ass is fine but that?” Eddie sighed, as you straddled his waist and looked down at him. He was smiling up at you softly, curls fanned out on the pillow as his hands stroked up and down your thighs.

Things could get pretty rough between the two of you, asscheeks often red if your face was smushed into the mattress, but he was always so…sweet. Little praises, ‘you’re doing so well for me sweetheart’ and ‘look so pretty when you take it like this’. But you’d seen him the night before outside the bar when the barman got a little handsy with you, Eddie’s hands scrunched up in the barman’s jacket as he shoved him up against the wall, getting in his face and threatening him with a ‘if you ever lay a fingertip on her, or your eyeballs roll in her direction, i will fucking ruin you.’

Since then your body had been on fire, his dark eyes somehow darker etched in your mind. And now this, after a morning spent napping and drinking painful amounts of coffee to wash away the liquor of yesterday, you were atop your boyfriend, needy.

“Baby…” You whined quietly, leaning down to kiss along his jaw and down his neck. His hands slid up over your back, resting there before travelling down to the swell of your ass and pulling it down against him.

“Yes love?” Eddie spoke back, his voice rough from smoking but his tone gentle and sweet. As always.

Reaching a hand down between the two of you, you’d cup his growing length through his pyjama pants, squeezing him hardly.

“Fuck - what’re you playing at? Tryna rile me up?” Eddie growled softly, his hand coming to your wrist but you quickly pinned it up above his head with your free hand, bringing your face up to hover above his.

“I want you.”

“You can have me.”

“But I want you…rough, Eddie. I want you to make me cry. I want you to-“ You brought your lips to his as they suddenly hung open in shock at your quick change of demeanour, “fucking ruin me.”

His big doe eyes looked up at yours, searching for any jest or hesitation, and when he found none - only sincerity and pure unadulterated lust in your irises - his eyes darkened. Just as they did the night before. His hand snaked up your chest, settling around your throat as he smiled sweetly before pushing you back ferociously against the mattress; a gasp leaving your lungs as you focused on the way he knelt in between your legs.

“Last night….” Eddie spoke, a new tone to his voice, “turned you on, didn’t it sweetheart?” His hands ran along your thighs again, squeezing them tighter than usual as he spread them open further to settle on top of his own. You nodded cutely, your own eyes widening as the throbbing between your legs grew.

“Say it again. Tell me how it made you feel.” Eddie whispered, pulling your hips so your ass rested in front of his knees before leaning down to hover above you this time.

“You - you looked so angry, Eddie, so protective, just made me - want you like that.” You’d stutter as his hands travelled across your body, fingertips digging in harder than before.

“Yeah. Fucking asshole, thinks he can lay his hands on you, just because you’re gorgeous and sexy and beautiful and wonderful-“ Eddie started his sentence angry but pressed kisses to your lips with all the praises that followed.

You giggled against his lips before pulling away, noticing he was smirking down at you.

“You’re rutting against me like a feral little puppy do you know that?” He taunted lowly, looking down at where you were subconsciously bucking your hips up in an attempt to feel him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“Please-“ You begged softly, hands pulling his wrists away from your body and down towards your inner thighs. Thinking you were in control for a moment, you let out a slight giggle but it was quickly squashed with a gasp and a loud mewl as he brought his hand down to smack your clothed core.

“You want me to ruin you and you can’t even wait five minutes? Oh sweetheart…you’re gonna need to be more patient than that.” He condescended, tilting his head with a smirk as he watched you fall down the rabbit hole of submission.

[theitgirlnetwork]

Better

Chapter 9: She Slides Down That Pole And...

Note: Hi again! How nice you all are about this story is actually insane, I'm so very grateful! You're all very sweet and I hope you continue to enjoy. We are about to enter our first major conflict people, stay fucking calm <3 Once again, if you would like to be added to the taglist let me know, and pls keep interacting, it inspires me! MDNI fr fr. I'm serious. 18+ don't make this weird. I hope to get another chapter out either tomorrow or later this week. Thanks so much again <3

Warnings: Explicit content, sexual content, mentions of sex work

Taglist: @th3h0nkz @yezzyyae@comeonatmebruh

Charlotte stares at Lip, turning her body to face him. “Not funny, Phillip.”

“It’s-” he starts, cutting himself off when he sees her face. Soft features set sternly. The only vulnerability he can see is swimming her eyes as she waits for him to either say he was joking or stand on what he’s said. “I’m not laughin, bunny.”

Charlotte’s eyes scan Lip entirely. She studies his face, his body language, attempting to measure his sincerity. He means it she finally acknowledges. This is crazy. She knows it. She doesn’t have to be a fucking genius to know that she and Lip have moved at rapid speed. But somehow, she feels like she can tell. He’s saying he loves her and he means it. 

“I love you too.” 

The second the endearment leaves her lips Lip surges forward, cupping her face as he presses their lips together and pushes her softly to lay back on the bed. Charlotte gasps at her suddenly being pushed backward. She giggles as their lips smack against each other, lifting her hands to cup the back of his head, pulling him down to her even further.

“You mean that?” he asks, as he drags over her ear, kissing there once, twice, before moving down to her jaw, no doubt creating blooming bruises as he drags down to her neck.

Charlotte looks down her body where he’s trailing kisses, big, intense, blue eyes staring up at her, waiting for confirmation. The uncertainty is evident, despite the confident movements of his strong hands dragging her shirt up her torso, leaning down and tugging at her belly button piercing lightly with his teeth. “I love you, Phillip.” she breathes.

He lets out a shaky breath that makes goosebumps form across her skin. Lips starts toying with the button on Charlotte’s jeans, giving her the opportunity to stop him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Tugging the pants down her legs, Lip tries to calm down by taking inventory of the situation. She loves him. Charlotte just told him she loved him-that’s not helping, he things, glancing down at his own pants after dropping hers to the floor. He looks back up only to find her sitting up slightly, pulling her shirt over head, her breasts spilling over the cups of her white bra, her body only clad in the small bra and red Christmas panties that say ‘Santa Baby’ in white letters with a little white bow. Neither is that, but fuck it.

Lip leans down and nudges his nose at the bow, murmuring against the fabric, “Expecting someone else?”

Charlotte smoothes her hand through Lip’s hair, her other arm propping her up so she can look at him. “Yeah, I guess I have a thing for white men with rosy cheeks- ah!” she yelps as Lip places her legs over his shoulders and tugs her down so his face is between them, making her lose her balance. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks smugly as he tugs her underwear to the side.

“Peachy.”

“Yeah, I bet.” 

Charlotte doesn’t know what she expected. Women don’t just start acting crazy for no reason. There’s no way Mandy had been ready to drop her off at a damn brothel behind him if he wasn’t doing something life changing in bed. She’d both absently and presently pondered what it would feel like for Lip to eat her out. If it was anything like how he kissed then yeah, she could assume she was gonna be in trouble. But seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? Is he trying to kill her? 

He’d started off nice, pressing a couple soft kisses on her lower lips the way he does the ones on her face. But then he locked his hands on her waist, holding her in place as he flattened his tongue against her. Refusing to let her move. Moaning into her as he sucked and licked. Cerulean blue eyes locked on her face. 

At the sound of the floorboards creaking under someone’s weight in the hallway Charlotte grabs one of the pillows to cover her face and tries to bury her whimpers. Only for him to tug her down again, jolting her and causing her to look at him to hear his stern, “Put that shit down.” He’d left no room for argument, so she bites her lip and moves the pillow, gripping the blanket beneath her with one hand and letting him reach up and guide her other one to his hair.

He was giving her such whiplash too. With how he was talking. Most of his words slurred against her, but occasionally pulling away, showing her his glistening lips and making her cheeks hot with his demands and commentary.

“Stay fucking still.”

“You taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Want you to cum on my face.”

“Wanna live between these fuckin’ legs.”

When Charlotte couldn’t take the pressure anymore and felt herself reaching that final peak she tugs on Lip’s hair, earning a groan from him as he tightens his hold on her, controlling her squirming. She takes her free arm and muffles her cries with it, trying to steady herself and stop her body from shaking. 

“Fuck.” Lip groans again, moving up to kiss her lips and then staring down at her to take in his handiwork. “You okay, bunny?”

“I’m…yes. I’m okay.” she breathes, trying to catch her breath. Lip laughs as he watches the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Shut up. M’fine.” Charlotte sits up shakily, shoving at Lip’s chest when he snorts out another laugh. 

“Okay.” he relents, resting his weight on top of her, and continuing to kiss her lips. His eyes lock on hers and he sweeps his thumb over her cheek. “I love you.” he whispers against her lips, parting them and guiding her tongue to drag along his as they kiss. 

Charlotte starts pulling Lip’s shirt over his head, struggling for a little before he breaks away to pull it off, tossing it onto the floor and unbuttoning his pants and kicking them off.  “Do you um, still wanna wait? That’s totally fine.”

He should have said yes. Lip knows that. He knows that he doesn’t deserve this moment. 

But the way Charlotte was looking up at him made him feel like he does. All he could think about is her gorgeous face, her beautiful body, the way she smells, the way she tastes. The way she makes him feel. He can’t not do it.

“I wanna be close to you.” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against hers. “Wanna be inside of you.” He waits then. Because despite how badly he wants this, the one thing that would be able to stop him is an ounce of doubt, a no from her. But he gets a shy nod and soft fingers on the back of his neck. And her yes means everything. “I’ll go get a condom.”

He furrows his brows in confusion when his girlfriend shakes her head, pulling him further down onto her, wrapping her legs around him. “Don’t need one. Pill. Take it like clockwork. Okay?”

Normally, Lip would say fuck no. He’d only ever fucked raw 4 times in his life. Twice with Karen, which was dumb as hell, considering the fact that someone else usually had already done the same earlier that day. Twice with Helene because…well, she had her tubes tied and the only other person fucking her was her husband. He thought. Maybe. 

But he trusts Charlotte. And there’s no way in hell he’d give up the opportunity to get inside of her without anything between them. So that’s exactly what he does.

“Oh fuck.” he moans, dropping his head to her neck as she gasps when he pushes inside of her. Lip pauses for a moment, telling himself for the sake of his own ego that it's to let Charlotte have a second to adjust. Lip gives a few shallow thrusts before setting a slow, deep rhythm. After getting over the initial feeling of tightness and warmth he lifts his face to look at her face, groaning again. “Shit, Charlotte, that shit is not fair.”

“Wh-” she gasps, clinging to him even more. "What?”

“Fucking…the next time we’re fuck, we do this m’gettin you a mirror, looking at you while you feel like this is ridiculous.” he says, coming up to rest his forehead back on hers, using his arm to hook her leg, pushing it back up towards her, the other hand massaging her breast as he relishes in the cry she lets out.

“Well, you’re trying to split me in half while looking like a greek statue so-mm, I think we’re even.” she whimpers, a small smile forming on her face as she sees the one on his.

“Yeah? Say that again.”

She reaches up cupping his face and kissing him. “Never.”

His laughter devolves back into groaning as he continues pushing into her, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in. They stay as close as possible, sharing air, lips brushing, her back arching off of the bed to push her torso against his. They build their way to a slow, intimate finish, Lip feeling a wave of accomplishment wash over him when Charlotte’s gasps pitch to near screams, her scrambling to cover her mouth with her hand. Wickedly, he decides to make it worse for her, leaning close to her ear to whisper, “Cum for me baby.”

Seconds later she does, squeezing his muscled arm and covering her mouth, Charlotte cries out her orgasm, tightening so much that she triggers Lip’s. He gives her a couple more thrusts before releasing inside of her, pressing kisses all over her face and then rolling off her and pulling out so as not to crush her. 

The two of them lay there in silence for a few minutes, Lip rubbing his hand along the soft skin on her arm as they face each other. Charlotte catches her breath as she stares at her boyfriend's face, getting a good look at the cute little blush that had formed during their activities, watching his pretty eyes flutter open and closed with sleep. “Haha, I can’t wait to talk to Mickey tomorrow.”

Lip makes a face, sitting up and pushing off of the bed. “We just said I love you and had sex for the first time, and you’re talkin’ about my brother’s boyfriend?” He tugs on a pair of boxers and pulls out another pair that he knows Fiona washed, along with a t-shirt and passing it to her. “Hold on.”

Charlotte giggles, sitting up and pulling on the shirt while Lip disappears into the dark hallway. She silences the panicked thought that passes through her mind as he walks up the hall, and secretly releases a breath when he re-enters the room, washcloth in hand and pokes her forehead, pushing her to fall on her back again. Lip grabs one of her legs, pulling them apart and wiping her off. “I gotta tell Mickey I wore you out. It’s an inside joke, he’ll get it.”

Cocking his head to the side the blond scoffs, putting the washcloth down and tugging the boxers up Charlotte’s legs. “You wore me out? You were on your back the whole time, brat.”

Charlotte shrugs, scooting up the bed and climbing under the blanket, holding it open for him to climb in with her. “That’s how you like me, isn’t it?”

They both stare at each other again before cackling together as Lip pulls her back against him, nudging her temple lightly with his knuckle. “Go to bed.” 

“Phillip” a feminine gasps in the cold room, interrupting the otherwise quiet morning.

Lip groans, pulling Charlotte down to him, tucking his face into her hair as she whines, rubbing her hair as they both catch their breath. He drags his fingers along her bare spine for a few moments before pulling her shirt down over her skin to avoid her getting a chill. 

Climbing off of him, Charlotte kisses his cheek and then grabs the discarded boxers he’d given her the night before from the floor, pulling them on. “I’ve gotta pee.”

The blond nods, smiling at her and watching her slip out of his room, the light peeking in from the blinds shining on her in a way that makes his heart speed. “Meet me downstairs, bunny.”

“‘Kay.”

Lip was having a pretty fuckin’ good morning. Hell, he’d had a pretty good night. Normally, he woke up the day after Christmas feeling broke and hungover. Instead, he was sober, and woke up to his sexy girlfriend who’d flown back in to be with him, climbing on top of him to make it even after he’d made a ‘pillow princess’ joke. 

He gets out of bed, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pajama pants pocket before jogging down the stairs, finding his siblings having their usual morning. “Mornin’.”

Carl immediately gets up from the table, knocking his shoulder into his older brother’s arm as he pushes past, grabbing his hat and storming out of the door. 

“He’s mad at you.” Debbie shrugs, spooning cereal into her mouth.

Fiona passes Lip a bowl and grabs her coffee going to sit in her seat. “Move your headboard away from the wall, genius.” 

“Oops.” Lips says, mouth full of off brand cheerios. He sits in his seat and takes a couple more scoops before putting his spoon down. “I’ll check on him later, I gotta tour this company I’m doing this internship with today, and I gotta take Charlotte to work.”

“Ah, he’ll get over it.” Ian says, wiping Liam’s face. “Mickey, you almost ready? I wanna get to the track before other people get there.”

“Yeah, keep your pants on, we’ll get to it.” As he says it Charlotte comes down the stairs, hair now combed up into a high ponytail, her hand holding up the shirt Lip loaned her in an attempt to cover the hickeys decorating her neck. “There she is, proud of you, champ!” 

Mickey puts his hand up, offering her a high five. Charlotte snorts, smacking his hand and jokingly making a muscle with her arm and then flipping her hair, taking a bow. Lip wraps his arm around her, tapping her ass lightly before pulling her into his lap. He shoves his cereal bowl over to her, mumbling the demand, ‘eat’, before looking between Ian, Debbie, and Fiona. “What?”

“Are you sharing? Whipped!” 

“You fuckin’ are, you’re pussy whipped.”

“Make him do the dishes next, Charlotte.”

“Ha ha, fuck you guys.” Lip says, flipping his siblings off. “And fuck you too.” he says to Mickey.

“I’m not sure you’ve got anything left for me, Gallagher, from the sound of it, the princess here took it out of you.”

Charlotte leans forward toward the table, eating some of the cereal before scooping more onto the spoon and turning to feed it to Lip. “Okay, okay, stop bullying my boyfriend…he took it like a good boy.”

“Oh shit” Fiona laughs, tossing her head back. 

Lip pinches the girl’s side, “Et tu brute?”

She offers him an innocent look. “What does that mean?”

“Fucksake.” he groans.

Suddenly, Lip’s phone starts vibrating in his pocket. Absently, he pulls it out, not thinking that the primary people who call him are sitting around the table with him, which means there is only one other person that it could be. Why didn’t he change her damn name in his phone?

“Who’s Helene?” Charlotte asks, taking another scoop of cereal and looking back at Lip. 

His siblings move fast. Debbie immediately grabs Liam, perching him on her hip and running up the stairs to get him ready. Fiona grabs her coffee mug, chugging the rest and dumping it in the sink, declaring she was going to get some sleep. And suddenly, Mickey was completely ready to go running with Ian, mumbling a ‘fuckin’ idiot’ under his breath as the redhead leads him out of the door. 

“She’s uh,” Lip clears his throat, “she was my professor. Before.”

“Mmkay, why is she texting you at 8:30 in the morning when you don’t go there anymore?”

“She’s the one that helped me get my job. She’s probably just letting me know where to go.” He shrugs. He feels his heart race as Charlotte studies him, holding the spoon in her mouth as she observes him. “What do you need to see it, or…?”

“No.” she says, popping the spoon out, and scooping the last bit of cereal before feeding it to him. “If you say she was your professor and she’s helping you find a job, that’s what she is, and that’s what she’s doing.” Charlotte offers him a smile before giving him a kiss on the lips. “I love you. So, I trust you.”

Wow. Lip thinks. I’m a piece of shit. All he offers her is a nod, leaning into her hand when she holds his cheek before announcing she needs to get changed before he can take her to work. 

As she skips out of his house to go put on her uniform, Lip can’t help but feel like cold water had just been thrown over him. After last night and this morning, he’d damn near forgotten who had helped him get this job. Despite the fact that they wouldn’t be working together, Helene had been reaching out to him frequently, mostly talking about what the work would entail. Mostly. And it was easy to convince himself it wasn’t wrong to leave out the details of how they knew each other when Charlotte was miles away in Virginia, but now with her in his arms, it made him feel like he was doing something horrible.

“Welcome back, girl, we’ve missed you!”

Charlotte beams at her co-worker, Trish as she prepares a customer’s check. Trish was definitely the coworker she was the closest with. They were close in age, Trish being only two years older, and she was nice. And she hadn’t slept with Lip. While Charlotte was gone, Trish had taken a lot of her shifts. She’d also invited her to go out a couple times, but the younger woman was still a little traumatized from her last ‘girls night’. But she planned to do it eventually. “Missed you guys too. And I missed making money.”

“I’m sure you missed your little friend Gallagher too, huh?” Trish jokes, wiping down the table next to Charlotte.

“Yeah,” she sings, “I missed my boyfriend.”

Trish pauses at that, gasping before turning to face the girl entirely, ignoring the drunk man in her section requesting more beer. “Boyfriend? Lottie, that’s great! No wonder he was so quiet over the past few weeks. He’s been in the house trying to keep his dick in his pants for you. Believe me, that bitch Kayla who does the Thursday morning shift gave it her best. That’s so sweet, girl.”

“Hm, well, if she could take him then he was never mine.” she says maturely. “Which is why he was staying home, waiting for me.” she giggles.

“Bitch! I know that’s right.” Trish laughs, grabbing an order and passing it to Charlotte to take to the table. “Lip Gallagher’s girlfriend. You must have some magical pussy.”

Charlotte drops the order off and puts her finger under her customer’s nose, checking to ensure he’s still breathing as his head is down on the wooden high top table. Satisfied that he’s good she goes behind the counter and starts dialing his brother’s number. “It’s not about sex, T.”

“But it’s good right?” the woman asks. When Charlotte rolls her eyes Trish sighs, “Fine fine, it’s about love, partnership, blah blah.”

“Hi, Gary? Jeff is here again, you think you could pick him up? Yeah…he’s still breathing. Just,” the girl peeks at the customer again. “Sleepy.” After hanging up she goes to sit on one of the stools, smiling dreamily at her friend. “He’s got a new job, working in science and tech and stuff. Cause’ you know he’s so smart. We’re saving up money for the future.”

Trish climbs onto the seat next to Charlotte, offering her a kind smile. “That’s great, Lottie. I’m happy for you.”

Charlotte raises an eyebrow. “But?”

“But, have you considered my offer? Pays way better than this place. And your good friend Trish will get a pay raise for scouting you. You’d be offering two sources of income on top of the billions of miscellaneous jobs your man does.”

“Trish, I told you,” Charlotte groans, waving as a customer enters. “I’m not a stripper. I used to dance, cheer, and took a couple pole dancing classes. I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“You haven’t tried.” Trish pouts, “besides you wouldn’t even have to go full nude, or even topless! Though, it’d be good for tips…”

“Trish-”

“It’s a pretty nice place for Southside. They have zero tolerance for prostitution, just come audition for them. I’ll be there, you don’t like it, I won’t ask again. Please? The money is so, so, so good.”

Charlotte looks at her friend, taking in her pleading look and considering the amount of times she’s seen Trish before she’s stopped at the bank, carrying thousands of dollars on her. “Let me talk to Phillip about it, and I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll take it. You ask daddy-”

“I’m not asking, I’m getting his opinion!”

“Sure,” Trish shrugs, backing away, going over to the customers, “And when he says no, we’ll go anyway.”

“He’s not just gonna tell me no." she huffs following her friend. "And I don't need to ask him for permission!"

Lip checks his phone while Eric, the douchebag whose dad owns this tech company shows him the coffee room. He was exactly what Lip had expected, a douchebag in a button down who was running a company he knows nothing about. But hey, he needs the money.

Bunny: I’ve got good news, could be fun! I’ll tell you about it later. I love you <3

He smiles to himself, not noticing the preppy, frat boy leading his tour was looking at him. “Something good?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, man, my bad. It’s my girlfriend.” Lip says, going to pocket his phone after texting her back.

“Girlfriend, huh? Got a picture?”

Lip’s brows furrow as he looks at the guy in front of him, not moving to pull up a picture, and waiting for him to explain why the fuck he needed to see his girl.

“Oh, no man, it’s just something we do around here, you know the girls come around sometime, bring snacks and lunch and stuff. I just like to know for security purposes in case I see them around the floor. I should probably show you mine, you know, in case.” Eric says, digging in the pocket of his khakis and producing the latest phone. He scrolls for a few seconds before holding it up for Lip to see. 

“Uh, nice.” Lip says nodding as he views the girl on the screen. She’s pretty. Long dark hair with highlights, tall, long-legs. She’s not Charlotte though. Lip easily pulls up the last picture of Charlotte he had open and puts it in front of Eric’s face. “Yeah, so she probably will come around for lunch sometimes-”

“Jesus. This is your girl? Lucky bastard!” Eric goes to hold Lip’s phone to get a better look, laughing lightly when he pulls it away, pocketing it. “Congrats on that, Gallagher. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

Lip fixes him with an unamused look, feeling himself getting angry. “I know.” He talks himself down inwardly, reminding himself that he needs this job. 

“Tell her to come around anytime.” Eric says, patting Lip’s shoulder before slipping past him. “Let’s get back to the tour.”

The only thing that gets him through the rest of the day is the likelihood that Charlotte will let him fuck her in his office where he knows that asshole will be able to hear him.

V slips into Alan’s bar and restaurant, shoving past a group of smelly, old drunks stumbling out. She finds Charlotte at the bar and settles into a stool, unzipping her jacket. She frowns at a patron who stops to stare at…well, literally everything other than her face. “What the fuck are you lookin’ at?”

Charlotte slides her cousin a hot chocolate and a piece of chocolate cake. “He can’t help it, V, he’s got a wandering eye.” 

“You mean lazy eye?”

The younger woman furrows her brow in confusion when the man hurriedly places his money on the counter and scurries off to another part of the restaurant. “No, he has a-”

“Lottie, baby, that man is a creep. Don’t serve him anymore.” V sighs, taking a sip of the hot drink. “This is good, girl, why don’t you make these at home? And what’d you call me out here for, you know Kev doesn’t like me coming to Al’s, somethin’ about crossin’ enemy lines or whatever.”

Charlotte grabs two forks, passing V the other one and the two cousins begin sharing the cake. “I wanted to ask you how Kev felt about you dabbling in sex work. Like, how did he react when you brought it up?”

V pauses with the fork halfway to her mouth, letting it clatter to the plate as she looks at her younger cousin, folding her arms over her chest. “What the hell are you talking about? Is Alan trying to get you involved in something? That sick motherfucker-”

“No!” Charlotte interrupts, looking around to make sure no one else hears their conversation. “You know how T has been trying to get me to audition for that club over on Wilmington, the new one? I’ve been thinking about it. I mean, I don’t make much here and Phillip and I are trying to save up for…future stuff.” She finishes sheepishly.

“Right.” V says, rolling her eyes.

“But, I dunno, m’nervous he’s not gonna be cool with it.”

V sighs, spooning in a bite before looking at Charlotte again. To be fair, she’d actively been against this snowballing relationship since she’d seen the two of them eye-fucking eachother in her driveway when Charlotte arrived. As an older cousin she truly thought Charlotte was too young for something as serious as this situation with Lip was getting. And as a fellow woman well…she knows Lip. But as weeks and now months had progressed, she was forced to come to terms with the fact that they were going to be a thing for a while. V would rather Lip walk through their front door and announce that he’s in their home than him climbing his way into Charlotte’s window, or worse, sneaking her out of it. So for now, she’s going to play nice, telling them what to do wouldn’t work anyway. “Well, it’s not like you’d be doing full nude. He should be fine as long as you’re not turning tricks, that was Kev’s line with me. Wasn’t gonna do it anyway, but it was best to let him feel like he was laying down the law.” 

Charlotte twirls the end of some of her hair pensively. “You think that’ll work with Phillip?”

“It should.” V shrugs. “The boy’s a hustler, if you’re bringing in money and promising not to fuck anyone else, he’ll think it’s a good deal. It’s more than any other girlfriend of his has been able to offer.”

“Okay, thanks V.” Charlotte breathes, tapping her hands on the bar. “Yeah, it’ll be fine, I’m just gonna be straightforward and honest, and he’ll be fine. It’ll be great.”

“Fuck!” Lip groans, tugging at the base of Charlotte’s ponytail one last time before dropping his hand to her jaw, using his thumb to sweep over the drool on her bottom lip as she pulls off of him. “C’mere.” he says softly, pulling her up from the floor to sit next to him. Lip tucks himself back into his pants before kissing her lips tenderly, ignoring the taste of himself. “Jesus, you gonna greet me like that everytime I come home from work?”

Charlotte takes her hair down, giggling as she smoothes her hands through it, undoing his handiwork. Sure, she might've set the woman's movement back a couple decades by prepping her boyfriend for news he might not wanna hear with a blowjob, but it's not like she wouldn't do it anyway. She just happened to have done it at a time where she needed him in a good mood. “Depends,” she shrugs, swinging her legs over his lap and laying back on the bed to look up at the ceiling. “I…hypothetically might not be home every time you come home.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Lip says absently, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it. “‘Was kiddin’, Bunny, I don’t like…expect head. I like head. Love it even. Because,” he pulls her further into his lap, gathering her to his chest and pressing slow kisses on her cheek and along her jaw. “It feels sooo good when you do it, but I only want it when you want to do it. Just like, all the time.” he jokes, nudging her jaw with his nose.

Charlotte laughs, wrapping her arm around his neck and cupping his cheek with her free hand. “Yeah? Only every day?”

“Just 25/8, nothing major.” Lip smirks, pretty eyes watching the mirth on his girlfriend’s face, relishing in being the one to make her laugh.

“Well,” Charlotte takes a deep breath, averting her eyes so they won’t meet his, and immediately the joy on Lip’s own face dims, brows furrowing as he searches her expression. “That’ll be difficult.”

He grabs her jaw gently but firmly, forcing her to make eye contact. “Why’re you bein’ weird?” His concern grows even more as he watches her squirm under his gaze, the muscle in his jaw ticking in irritation. “You leavin’ again?”

The woman’s eyes widened at the sound of his voice, the barely contained frustration coupled with the insecurity staining the three words her boyfriend just uttered. His body tense as if he was preparing for a blow. “No, bubba, m’not goin’ anywhere.”

Some of the strain leaves his body, but Lip keeps pushing. “So, what’s the fuckin’ problem, baby? You’re being weird, not finishin’ what you’re tryin’ to say. Is someone fuckin’ with you at work?”

“No!”

“Did I piss you off for real just now?”

“No!” Charlotte huffs, dragging a hand down her face.

Lip sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Then what the fuck-no, don’t make that face, m’sorry. I mean, what is the problem then, Charlotte?”

Charlotte winces at the use of her full name in this context, steadying herself for a second before blurting out, “I’m gonna go audition to dance at the club on Wilmington my friend T works at because it pays well and you got a better paying job and I want to too and I wouldn’t do full nude so it’ll just be like, me wearing bikinis and stuff and you shouldn’t be mad.” 

Lip pauses, taking in everything the frantic girl is slurring together and trying to understand what she’s saying. 

Meanwhile, Charlotte absolutely wilts more and more the longer her boyfriend is silent. He doesn’t necessarily look angry, but he didn’t look happy either. She couldn’t stand the silence for much longer. “And I wouldn’t be turning tricks, or anything like that. Obviously.” she adds softly.

The blond suddenly bursts into laughter, all but cackling as he drops his head to her shoulder, his whole body damn near shaking with his chuckles. “Um, fuckin’ yeah obviously you won’t be fucking anyone else, I’d fuckin’ burn the place down.” 

Charlotte ignores the part of herself that is attracted to that absolutely crazy statement. She relaxes against him. “Thank God, so you’re okay with it?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, it’s not my favorite but there’ll be bouncers, and I’ll pick you up and drop you off, and those fuckers can look, but” he tilts her against his chest, using his free hand to smack her ass, smiling smugly at her squeak. “I get to touch. And I can watch, give you feedback as you practice. Get some discounts on a private dance.”

“Oh honey, this ass is expensive, m’savin’ up to do stuff with my boyfriend.” she hums, pursing her lips.

“Lucky fuckin’ guy.” he jokes. “I can see it now, takin’ you to a nice dinner, gettin’ a violinist and a singer to come over to sing our song to you-”

“Since when have we had a song?” Charlotte laughs, pushing him in his chest, rolling her eyes when he dramatically falls back on the bed, tugging her to lay on top of him. 

“Since now. It's really romantic.” He chuckles, wrapping his arm around her, keeping her close to him and leaning into her ear, singing lowly. “I’m in love with a stripper-” he breaks off into more laughter when Charlotte smacks him with a pillow, pushing it against him over and over. “She slides down the pole and-”

“You don’t even know the words!” the girl shrieks, as he flips them, climbing on top of her, taking the pillow from her and rubbing his hand along her stomach, pushing her shirt up as he goes.

The door to Lip’s room swings open and Lip curses as his girlfriend all but vaults him off of her, tugging her shirt down in case it’s one of the younger kids. He scowls when he sees it’s just Ian, a mocking look on his face and the neck of a beer dangling between his fingers.

“Wanna knock, fuckface?!” Lip growls as his younger brother steps into the room, plopping down on the bed and throwing his arm around Charlotte, who, the traitor, immediately leans into the redhead. 

“Nah, you were done like fifteen minutes ago. You should really look into sound proofing these walls. Anyway-” Ian takes a swig of his beer. “Clear your calendars and put it in your pants, sluts, Mickey’s birthday is on Friday. Half of his piece of shit family is in jail and the other half just sucks. We’re takin’ him out.”

[aizawas-dryeye]

➭take it slower, make you lose control (satosugu)**

content: loss of virginity, anal sex, oral sex, teasing, premature ejaculation, top!gojo, bottom!geto, au of some kind idk maybe college, i imagine them being like 19-21

words: 4.2k

ko-fi

!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

jus two bros exploring sexuality

uhh also im trying to format my fics different so if this looks like dookie ass then keep it to urself MWAH

• • •

Geto wasn't entirely sure if Gojo was being serious when he proposed they sleep together, after an otherwise casual discussion of sexuality. Now, staring at the 'u comin over?' text, he remembers exactly who he's dealing with. Satoru Gojo isn't one to back down from anything he deems important enough for his time and attention. And it's clear he's invested in this. Perv...

Carding a hand through his hair, Geto sends a quick text back and makes his way to Gojo's dorm. The walk there is agonizing. It's just long enough that the anticipation-induced anxiety starts clawing at his chest, but short enough that he doesn't have time to fully prepare before he's knocking on the door. Gojo opens it with a wide, smug grin on his face that makes Geto wanna crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.

The second Gojo opens his mouth to undoubtably say something asinine, Geto grumbles out a "Don't," and pushes into the bedroom. He earns a giggle in response before Gojo turns to splay himself over the bed, all long-limbed and far too cocky about all this.

"Sooooo..." he hums, pulling his sunshades down his nose so he can stare at the younger man with those frighteningly pretty eyes. Geto shudders to think what all he can see with those eyes, especially in this moment.

"Top or bottom?"

There's a beat of stunned silence that makes Gojo throw his head back in a fit of laughter. "Oh come on, Sugu. There's no point in gettin' shy now, right? I mean, we are about to have sex," he says, like it's the most casual thing in the world. The teasing lilt in his voice sets Geto's face ablaze, and his eyes widen so much he's surprised they don't pop right out of his skull.

"Hey now, I never actually agreed to this," Geto huffs out quickly, trying to compose himself, but the way he's awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot under Gojo's gaze is a dead giveaway. The latter takes a second to rake his eyes across his friend's tense body before sucking his teeth.

"You're here, aren't you?"

This is torturous. Leave it to Gojo to turn any situation into an uncomfortable nightmare for Geto. Like he lives to torment him. He doesn't even have time to think of a rebuttal before Gojo is sitting up on the edge of the bed, and beckoning him closer. Not unlike a deadly siren, he thinks, before his feet automatically obey the command.

He makes sure to keep a healthy amount of distance between them; an anxious little display that makes Gojo scoff and pull the man closer by the waistband of his uniform pants.

"Lighten up, Sugu," he purrs, now tilting his head back to look up at him. His expression shifts momentarily, a flash of sincerity across his face that calms Geto's anxiety, if only a little, before falling back into that familiar smugness. "I ain't gonna bite. Unless you want me to. Of course."

The line is so cheesy it actually makes Geto's lips quirk up in a little smile. He rolls his eyes and lets Gojo paw at him, knowing how touchy he is.

"Shut up," he mumbles before glancing around the room— the posters on the wall, the messy sheets— any and everything to avoid looking down.

His thoughts are racing. Is he even ready for this? Obviously he is, he's here and this has been plaguing his mind for months, but it's all so overwhelming and new. Geto's had sex before, sure, but not like this and certainly not with a close friend. Picking at his chipping nail polish, he musters up enough courage to look at Gojo finally. Might as well go all in.

"I think... bottom?"

Gojo grins like the Cheshire Cat and digs his fingers into Geto's hips, surprised at how giving and squishy the flesh is. In one quick motion he flips them so their positions are swapped, Gojo now bending to his knees in front of his cherry red friend.

"Say no more, Sugu!" he chirps. He absentmindedly runs his hands up and down Geto's thighs, unknowingly setting his blood on a fire trail straight to his crotch. If Gojo notices he doesn't say a thing, and Geto can't decide if that's better or worse. "You ever had anything up there? Any of your girlies try to sneak a finger or two?"

Oh god, that makes his cock twitch, just the thought of it. Geto shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing slightly. An annoying little gasp escapes him when Gojo's lithe fingers untie his harem pants.

"N-no," he breathes. "Nothing like that." The sound of Geto swallowing bounces around in Gojo's head like a sparkly little bouncy ball, gets him all excited with anticipation.

"How sweet! You wanted lil' ol' me to pop your cherry?" he giggles, makes Geto cover his face with his palms and groan. Gojo uses that opportunity to slip the waistband of his pants down. Then his boxers.

His eyes widen when Geto's cock springs up and slaps against his lower belly.

"Christ, I'm a little relieved I'm not bottoming now. Thing looks like it could level a city."

Geto's blush only spreads, even yelps when the cold dorm air hits his junk.

"Do you ever shut up?" he grumbles, peeking through his fingers down at the all-too-pleased albino.

"You already know the answer to that, Suguboo," Gojo hums, pouting his lips a little. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leans down so his face is mere inches from Geto's dick; so close he can feel the heat of it on his lips. "But I can think of something to help keep me quiet for a bit."

Geto doesn't even have time to think before his cockhead is enveloped in the tight, wet heat of Gojo's mouth. It shocks him, makes him choke on a gasp before his thighs squeeze around Gojo's lean shoulders. It's not that different from when girls have sucked him off, but in the exact same vein, it's like a whole new world. It's got the same addictive warmth, but it's more practiced. Maybe because Gojo sucks a lot of dick, or maybe it's the simple fact that those with penises know how the organ works better than those who don't. The fact that Geto's balls tighten at the thought of his best friend choking down dick should probably concern him, but his brain is far too fuzzy to care right now.

"O-oh, fuck," is all he manages to get out before his eyes roll into his skull, and he falls back onto his elbows. He swears he feels Gojo chuckle around his dick, and however silly that is, it sends delicious vibrations down his shaft that have his hips bucking up for more.

Gojo complies easily, happily inviting the entire length into his warm, welcoming mouth. When he gags, Geto's hand flies to his white locks to pull the strands by the roots. His grip only tightens when Gojo very slowly begins to bob his head up and down— up and down and up and down— slowly building up speed when he feels the thighs around his head tremble.

"Toru... T-Toru, oh fuck."

The needy hitch in Geto's voice makes Gojo's cock fight against the fabric of his pants. He pulls off his dick with a pop and quickly replaces his mouth with his hand, the sound of lewd shlicking mixes with Geto's heavy breathing like a symphony.

Blinking up at him, Gojo catches the way sweat clings to his forehead and neck already, so gorgeously it makes him bite his lip.

"Think you're ready for my fingers?" he asks, all cheeky.

Geto swallows immediately and nods, letting out a whine that he tries to cover up by clearing his throat. It's utterly humiliating, how he's been reduced to this after some deepthroating. Not that he wants to stop, no, he wants to lean into it like a sunflower turns to the sun.

And Gojo can tell. Any Gojo Clan member worth his salt can easily decipher body language with his six eyes, and Satoru Gojo can see everything. Beneath that shaky, nervous exterior, Geto is about two seconds away from crawling the walls like a horny demon. Without any further urging on his part, Gojo reaches into his bedside table to retrieve a bottle of lube. As he warms the lube between his long fingers, he swallows Geto's cock down again, resuming the torturous pace he started with.

He starts by stroking Geto's balls with a freshly slick hand. And slowly, ghosting across his perineum to get him used to the feeling, he provides new sensations cautiously despite his own desperation. Geto stops breathing the second his index finger runs across his hole, slicking him up like a whore, if he's honest.

Then Gojo pulls away again to whisper, "Take a breath for me. Gotta loosen up," and Geto obeys like a trained dog. The stretch isn't unbearable at all, but it's new and it's a lot. It makes Geto's eyes pinch shut, tummy muscles tightening from the intrusion that seems to go on and on.

When his finger is entirely and snuggly fit in Geto's hole, Gojo gives him a grace period to adjust, kissing up and down his cock to distract him from any pain.

It seems like the millisecond Gojo feels Geto's muscles relax, he's pulling his finger back out only to drive it in deeper. He's just stroking his insides for now, making sure to push just right, before quickening the little thrusts.

"See?" Gojo says, excited grin plastered on his glossy lips. "Not so bad, huh?" He's far too adorable to be nuzzling Geto's cock, but here he is, nearly purring with every shaky breath the man above him takes.

"Haah, yeah... mm-hm," Geto whispers. He wants to say more. God, he wants to say a lot more, but he refuses to add to the already mountainous ego Gojo has, so he clamps his hands over his mouth to muffle any noises coming out.

Gojo's determined though, leaning down all inconspicuous like to suck one of his balls into his mouth, humming around it while he easily pushes in a second finger. Geto's elbows give out and he lets his back hit the mattress, sinking his teeth into his tongue to keep from crying out.

"Hmph." Gojo pulls away from his balls with a pout. He immediately reaches up and snatches Geto's hands away. "S'not fair if you hide from me. C'mon, stroke my ego a little. I don't care if you think it's embarrassing."

Geto means to roll his eyes in a bitchy way, but instead they roll back when something inside him is struck, forcing an almost pornographic moan out of him. Gojo's fingers hone in on his prostate and ram against it in quick succession, watching the cock in front of him pulse so hard it kicks up a little. Makes his mouth water so much he leans down and leaves wet, sucking kisses on the tip, like he's making out with it.

"F-fuck you..."

Gojo slows down, "Hnnn..." humming like he's really thinking about it, like he isn't dragging his tongue up and down a cock. "Think you're still too tight for that, Sugu. Wouldn't wanna hurt ya," he teases, in a playful, melodic way.

Even with his words, Gojo squeezes a third and final finger past his tight rim and continues fucking the hole. This time he doesn't give Geto a minute to get accustomed to the stretch, and it makes his whines grittier. He reaches forward and grabs a fistful of white hair again to anchor himself as Gojo brings him closer, and closer, and closer—

"N-no, no fuck. Why'd you stop?" Geto whines, chest heaving when Gojo pulls away completely, leaving him feeling uncomfortably empty. He hardly knows what's happening when he's being stripped down, the only thing keeping him sane is Gojo's low, purring voice, all deep like dark chocolate.

"Just wanna make your first time extra special 'n have you cum on this dick." He speaks right against Geto's ear, even gives the stretched lobe a little nibble. Then suddenly, Geto's being forced up and flipped around like a rag doll. "C'mere," Gojo drags him across his lap so he's straddling his naked thighs— when did he get undressed? "Heard riding is easier on virgins."

"I'm not a virgin," Geto snaps, because it's the first thing that pops into his head, and every teasing word out of Gojo's mouth feels accusatory.

Gojo quirks an eyebrow up. "Oh? You let someone else fuck you up the ass before? Careful Suguboo, I might get jealous."

"No, I— Shut up. Y'know what I meant," Geto says, trying to ignore the way his voice cracks. His cheeks are crimson now, completely at a loss for what to do next or where to put his hands. Or where to look. It certainly doesn't help that he can feel Gojo's own erection beneath him.

It's cute, how Geto's eyes dart off to the side, eyebrows all scrunched up with... embarrassment? Overwhelm? Whatever it is, it makes Gojo wanna tease him.

Geto makes a surprised sound when he grips his wrists and guides his hands to rest on his chest, before greedily kneading at his thighs. His hands absentmindedly massage the trembling muscles while snaking up to squeeze his ass just a little.

"You ready? Got you all nice 'n prepped for the real thing," he says lowly, wanting to give no indication of his impatience if he can help it. This isn't about him, after all. Geto sucks in a breath and quickly nods, and that's all Gojo needs.

He reaches a long arm down and snatches the forgotten bottle of lube from the floor and squirts a good amount on his dick, wasting absolutely no time to smush the head up against Geto's hole. It makes the raven-haired man yelp a little and lean his weight on his hands to jump away from the sensation, effectively crushing Gojo's chest.

"C-careful!"

"Hey, alright. Don't run from it, yeah? I'll be slower, m'sorry," Gojo wheezes, pouting his lips in a little apology. He grabs one of Geto's hips in one hand and gently guides him back down to get him used to the slick, blunt end of his cock. Just rubbing between his cheeks and hole, getting the lube fucking everywhere.

The sound of slick squelching is even louder now. The way the cockhead pushes against Geto's hole just enough to stretch it before pulling away is heavenly, and he finds himself grinding his hips back to feel even more. He doesn't even realize Gojo is panting along with him, eyes all glassy, until he squeezes him and curses.

"Fuck— can I? Real quick, it won't hurt. I promise," he begs, pretty lips falling into an O shape when his tip catches on Geto's hole again. It's as if the resistance in his body gives way when he dares to glance down at Gojo, greeted by glassy, crystalline eyes that beg for him. Amazingly, Geto doesn't bust right then and there, and he quickly nods his head only to choke when the first inch of dick is slipped inside.

To be fair, Gojo was right. It doesn't hurt too bad thanks to all the prepping, but it's mind numbing. So much so, Geto's thighs give out and he falls even farther onto the cock already spearing him. The two let out long, almost embarrassingly loud moans in tandem. Like their brains both shut down from the sudden intrusion.

Even though he's a bit more coherent, Gojo still can't stop the way his hips buck up on instinct, chasing more of Geto's addicting heat. It strikes something deep inside him, makes his vision white around the edges as he gasps for air.

"A-ahhh hah, god! W-wait wait wait!"

The coil in Geto's tummy snaps and his muscles contract as Gojo's cock unintentionally forces an orgasm out of him. It happens so suddenly, it's like his body goes into autopilot, unable to do anything but cry out and sink his nails into Gojo's chest to try and ground himself. The shockwaves roll through him like a tsunami, making him tremble and hiccup, unable to do anything but ride it out. He doesn't realize how much he actually came until he blinks his eyes open to find streaks of creamy white all over his friend's abdomen and chest, some even landing on his lips, mortifyingly enough.

Gojo looks positively wicked, staring up at Geto with blown, lusty eyes that almost overshadow the pride plastered all over his stupid face. "Already? Fuck— were you really that pent up?" His tone is teasing, maybe to distract from the dull pain of sensitivity that shoots through Geto. Maybe he's just a dick. Whatever the case may be, he gently helps him ride it out, offering slow, shallow thrusts and greedy hands exploring wherever they can reach.

"Oh, god. S-shut the fuck— nngh! Cocky fucking bastard..." Geto hisses, though his voice pitches up near the end. He feels his eyes roll back a little when Gojo pushes in a little deeper.

"M'allowed to be cocky, ain't I?" he asks, voice like a damn vixen as his tongue darts out to lick at the cum that lingered on his lip. "Just came all over me and you're still hard? You have no idea what you're doin' to me." As if the twitching cock in Geto's ass wasn't proof enough of how Gojo was feeling, he just likes to hear himself talk.

He grips at Geto harder and makes him grind down against his hips, laughing when he lets out a yelp from overstimulation before he relents. Even tucks his hands neatly behind his head and gives Geto a look, as if to say 'go on'.

Geto swallows, lets his heart slow to a gentle thumping in his chest and wills the heat in his cheeks to cool down. Looking down at Gojo for long is still impossible it seems, so he squeezes his eyes shut and hesitantly— very hesitantly— rocks his hips back. The pressure is immense, almost overwhelming. The feeling of Gojo's cock stretching his hole past anything he's ever felt makes him hiss.

The sensitivity of cumming still thrums through his skin but, little by little, it fades and morphs into something euphoric. The stinging stretch gives way to pleasure faster than he'd thought, and soon he's adding more force to his movements. And while it's clear the only thing Suguru Geto has ever ridden in his life is a bike, Gojo can't help but find his sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts charming. He probably should help him, at least guide him by the waist, but the way his berry-pink face is screwed in concentration is downright adorable. It doesn't even matter that his grinding does little for Gojo's own pleasure.

"That's it, that's it Sugu. Take your time."

Even though the words burn through Geto's ears, he doesn't miss the blatant crack in Gojo's voice. How his tone is breathier, even strained, as if he's fighting himself to maintain composure. Now Geto understands the pride Gojo was feeling. It swirls around in his chest, gives him a boost of confidence to move with more precision. Suguru Geto has cracked the almighty god that is The Strongest.

It takes time, but eventually Geto is able to set a steady pace, rocking himself back and forward until the pain of the stretch is gone completely and gives way to pleasure. It's still sloppy, but every other glorious thrust has Gojo's cock gliding near his prostate, not quite there.

"Hmm—! Mmm, fuck," he huffs. He looks like he's about to collapse already, all dazy-eyed and shiny with sweat. The previous orgasm took a surprising amount of energy out of him, but Geto is stubborn. It's like he's forcing his body to keep going, to keep humping his best friend like a dog because it's all he can muster. There's no way he'll be able to make himself cum like this, not after the magic Gojo pulled.

"Here, here," Gojo huffs, his hands scrambling to grab Geto's hips, his thighs. "Lemme help, baby." He tucks his hands under his bottom and lifts him, coaxes him to lay forward, and Geto goes easily. Makes himself right at home in the cozy space between Gojo's neck and shoulder.

This position punches a sob from Geto. It's so much deeper. Deep in his fucking guts, he's almost sure he feels it in the back of his throat.

"O-oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!" His voice is utterly wrecked now. While Geto is always soft spoken with Gojo, this is completely different. It's guttural, raw almost, his tone pitched in the prettiest whine. It makes Gojo clench his teeth, his cock throbbing with every punishing thrust he gives. There's no way he can last like this, not with the way Geto's hole pulses around his dick like it can't keep up. It's honestly a surprise he's lasted this long.

Gojo arches, head digging into his pillow and making a mess of snowy white hair, and lets out a low moan right in Geto's ear.

"Haah... B-better like this, huh? Yeah, I know it. Fuck! Fuckin' know it, baby," he pants, thrusts quickening until the bed frame slams against the wall; it's definitely annoying his neighbors. Fuck 'em anyway, they've never experienced this. Never fucked a hole this sweet and addicting. His teeth are clenched so hard his jaw aches, absolutely nothing on his mind except to keep rutting into the tight, squishy warmth wrapped around his dick.

"Fuck, fuck! Not gonna last."

Geto is too fucked out to even hear him, can only cling to Gojo and whine with drool dripping down his chin. His balls tighten, cum begging to release, and the contraction makes him tighten around Gojo's hardness. It presses the cockhead right against his sweet spot and he sinks his nails into his shoulders. A coil deep in his stomach gives and then snaps, forcing him to gasp, eyes wide and blank as he paints his and Gojo's chest with cum again.

The second orgasm is near torturous, it pushes its way through his nervous system like an electrical wire, making him twitch and moan.

"O-oh fuck, fuck! Cumming! Fuck, cum— mm!" The words are forced out of him before his jaw tightens and he can only whine and growl as he mindlessly humps Gojo's cock to ride it out.

It's all enough. It's all so good. The way Geto cries, the way his ass pulses around his cock like a cunt, just everything. Gojo swears it makes him go blind when he finally cums. His grip on Geto's ass tightens just as his balls draw up as he cums, filling the sweet hole like he's trying to claim it. A thrum of jujutsu fills the air before the lights in his dorm shatter, scattering glass across the floor and bed.

Neither man is conscious enough to care or even notice— though Gojo's infinity switches on out of reflex, shielding them both from the shards— as they work each other through their own orgasms. It's euphoric. Almost magically romantic, but neither would ever admit to that.

Slowly, their bodies relax into one another. Geto still trembles above Gojo, but that's to be expected. The latter on the other hand works on catching his breath, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the sweat dripping down his face, neck, balls. He reaches up and cards a hand through Geto's messy hair, pulling spit-covered strands from his red face. A pleasant chuckle leaves his lips when he glances down at his friend.

"You with me?" he asks, all but coos at Geto, like he was the most precious thing. He musters a nod and his eyelids blink heavily.

"Intense, huh? The first time always is," Gojo says, making sure to keep his voice soft. He shuffles a little and gently lifts Geto so his softening cock slips out. He makes a sound of discomfort that Gojo shushes before he's nuzzling back into his neck.

He pulls the plush blanket over the two of them and makes sure they're both tucked in tight. It's silent for a few minutes as he lets Geto come back to reality and really bask in his newfound experience. He's almost nervous Geto is overthinking or even regretting this before he mumbles something into his neck.

"Hm?"

Geto moves a little and clears his throat. "Said thank you," he says, voice all hoarse and dreamy. Gojo smiles and plants a kiss on his head. Granted all that took place, the kiss wasn't surprising, but it still makes Geto's stomach flutter.

"Of course Suguboo!" Gojo says, his cheery tone mixing with the exhaustion overtaking him. "And I so wouldn't mind doing this again, you know?"

Geto snorts and pokes him in the rib.

"Perv." His voice is sarcastic, but a small part of himself cringes because the thought of doing this again with Gojo fills him with heart pounding excitement. He shouldn't be this ready to possibly become fuck buddies with his best friend— maybe more— and that realization shocks him. Fuck, they really need to talk about this, but for now, Geto hums and snuggles closer to Gojo, basking in his body heat, and lets the soothing feeling of him playing with his hair lull him to sleep.

[countryclubkook]

Drunken Festivities

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!reader

Warnings: light smut (minors don't interact), language, alcohol mentions, fluff, A LOT of drunken giggles, not proof read

Summary: you and Rafe get drunk and things don't go according to plan

“Ow babe, you go left. I go right” you said after Rafe had bumped his head into yours for the third time.

Both of you had a few drinks in your system so you were drunk and decided you needed each other right that second. It wasn't going well so far, each time Rafe moved one way to leave a kiss on your neck, you moved your head in the same direction. You'd wake up in the morning with a raging headache from either a nasty hangover or from the hard thud of Rafe's head colliding with yours.

“Sorry sorry, okay try again” he let out a drunken laugh before finally doing what he’d been trying to do for five minutes.

“There we go” a small moan came from you as he began sucking on the sweet spot.

His fingers lightly brushed against your stomach which caused you to let out a laugh. He pulled away from your neck to look at you in confusion.

“What? What happened?”

“It tickled” you managed to get out in your string of drunken giggles “I'm sorry, just keep going” pulling him back down to your neck.

Your eyes closed in contentment until you heard Rafe making a weird sound with his mouth forcing your eyes open and turning to look at him. He was using his free hand to swat at his mouth while trying to spit something out but looked like he was failing at the task. You brought your hand up to your mouth to mask your laugh to no avail.

“Babe it's not funny, next time wear your hair up. I mean don't get me wrong, I love the smell of your shampoo and whatever, but I do NOT want to taste it” his voice was so serious that it only made you laugh more.

Rafe rolled his eyes and went to just lay down but you pulled him into a messy kiss. Your hands eagerly moved to his pants to pull them off, his boxers following immediately after, and lifted your hips to strip down yourself. You grabbed his cock and stroked it slowly loving the sounds he made against your mouth.

“Fuck baby, need to be inside you now. Waited so long for this” his voice full of desperation.

You let out a small moan before lining him up with your entrance and feeling him slowly enter you. He always managed to stretch you out so well and it felt like the first time, especially now that you had alcohol in your systems. Rafe slowly began thrusting, not wanting to rush anything, and groaned when you let out a loud moan. He could listen to the sounds you made all fucking day.

“Rafe, faster” you moaned out, hands flying to his back as he sped up his pace.

It felt like he was bruising your cervix at the pace and angle he was at and you were sure you wouldn't last long. That was until 5 minutes had gone by and there was no buildup in your stomach and no sign of upcoming orgasm from Rafe. This never happened so maybe it just wasn't long enough? Maybe a new position would help?

“Wait wait wait” you said, moving to push Rafe away.

“What? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked frantically as he pulled out immediately. Even when he wasn't sober, Rafe was always so concerned about you.

“Yeah yeah I'm fine, just want to change positions is all” you let out a small laugh when he sighed in relief and moved from being on top of you so you could move.

Doggy style was one of your favorite positions so you got on all fours, wiggling your ass to be a tease, and waited for Rafe to continue. He let out a loud groan that definitely wasn't from pleasure and quickly turned your head to him. You saw him clutching his nose and contorted your face in confusion.

“Baby…you kicked me when you were moving. You’ve got to be more careful” you felt bad for laughing but you couldn't control it.

“Oh shit, I'm sorry” trying to sound as sincere as possible.

“Yeah yeah whatever, let's try this again” he mumbled, moving to get behind you.

You felt his cock rub up and down your folds to lube himself up before pushing himself into you again, the new position making it feel so much better. Both of you let out a moan at the feeling as he began thrusting into you quickly. It felt so good, and he was filling you up so well, but the feeling still never came. You waited for that familiar feeling of your stomach feeling like a balloon was expanding inside it and for Rafe to stutter his hips as he got closer, but it just wasn't coming (just like the two of you weren’t either).

“Um,” you said awkwardly “I don't think this is working tonight” you said with a small laugh.

“I'm so glad you said that” he sighed in relief as you signaled for him to pull out.

You both laid in the bed facing each other and just staring at each other for a few seconds before he burst out in laughter. You tried to look upset but you couldn't help the laugh that came out of you as well. This was just such a bizarre experience, you'd both wanted this so bad but you were too drunk to even get off and so now you were quite literally laughing in each other's faces.

“Well, I don't know about you” Rafe managed to get out after he'd calmed down a bit “but I'm tired and just want to cuddle with my girl” moving to wrap his arm around you.

You snuggled into his shoulder and closed your eyes as you relaxed. This only lasted for a few minutes before you began tossing and turning in his arms and shooting your eyes wide open, letting out a loud annoyed sigh.

“Rafe” you nudged him hoping he hadn't passed out already.

“Hm?” he mumbled out meaning he wasn't asleep, but wasn't fully awake either.

“I'm too fucking hot to cuddle” normally you would suck it up and deal with it, but not tonight. You couldn't handle it tonight, the mix of body heat, sweat still on your body from the prior activity, and alcohol was too much.

“Ugh” he groaned just wanting to have you close to him and be able to touch you. He reluctantly let go of you so you could crawl to your own side of the bed.

It was silent for a few seconds more before you made a suggestion. “We can touch toes if you want”

“What? No you weirdo” he scoffed.

“Oh okay, it was just a suggestion but it's cool”

You figured it was time to try and get some sleep and just hope your head wasn't pounding in the morning. Right as you were about to fall asleep, you felt something touching your feet. You yanked the blanket up and looked down to see what it was and shook your head seeing Rafe's toes against yours.

“Oh I'm the weirdo huh?” you teased out loud mainly to yourself but also for Rafe to hear if he was still awake.

“Oh shut up. Goodnight, I love you” he laughed.

“Yeah yeah, I love you too. Even if you touched my toes after calling me a weirdo for suggesting it” a pillow landing on your face as he threw one at you and turned to face away from you.

You let out a laugh before closing your eyes and going to sleep knowing full well you'd wake up with your limbs tangled and intertwined with Rafes.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 19 I’m sorry for your loss

Chapter 19 of Sugar

A/N- We have to go on a small hiatus to catch up to the anime after this chapter!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST!, fluff?, Violence, death, blood and gore, spoilers, SLOW BURN, heavy pining, long chapter.

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Takes place during- 2x17-2x20, and snippet spoilers for chapters 133 and 134!!

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*A FEW YEARS BACK. 2008*

“I wish I was fearless like you. I’m always scared.”

You laugh softly at Mimiko’s comment, and as brave as you want to sound, you don’t stray from the truth.

“When I was a little girl,” you begin to share softly. “Just like you, I was scared.”

Nanako giggles and argues against you since all she sees now is you being fearless. “That’s not true. I don’t believe it.”

You nod. “It’s true,” you insist and glance at your right side to look at her. “When I was little I used to be scared of many things,” you continue softly. “I was scared of curses, I was scared of bugs, and almost anything that went bump in the night.” You sigh and look up at the ceiling. “Even now I'm scared.”

“Of bugs?” Mimiko probes.

You giggle and shake your head. “Just spiders. But Suguru kills those so I’m okay.”

“What else are you scared of?” Nanako queries softly as she flips to her side to watch you watching the ceiling.

You hum softly and think of lying, but they expect you to be sincere, they want you to be sincere. So you admit one truth. “I’m scared of being alone. I don’t like being alone.”

Nanako and Mimiko stay quiet for a moment as they think of your answer. You keep your eyes on the ceiling as you wait, and hope you didn’t change the way they look at you by letting them see that you’re as much of a human as them.

You want them to look up to you, yes, more than anything, but you also don’t want them to look at you like you’re someone cold and unreachable. It always felt like your parents were on pedestals; they were something you could see but never get close to or touch. You always tried to live up to their image, but no matter how much you tried it was never enough, they got higher and higher.

You want your girls to know that you’re always here, at their level.

“Well,” Mimiko breaks the silence and flips around to hug your arm, making you slowly look at her with relief. “You’ll always have us.”

“And Geto!” Nanako adds excitedly. “You’ll never be alone,” she assures you.

You look at the both of them before you grin happily and throw your arms around them to pull them close to you. “Yeah,” you whisper in a shaky voice as you try hard not to cry happy tears. “You’re both right…but you know,” you sigh and slowly grow serious so you can assure their previous insecurity. “It’s okay to be scared. You can be scared, okay? That’s okay, it’s human, it’s normal. But you know what?”

“What?” Nanako probes.

You smile softly. “You never have to fear going back to that awful place, Suguru nor I will ever, ever let that happen, okay? We’ll never let anyone hurt either of you ever again, all right?”

Mimiko and Nanako snuggle up against you and they whisper softly, “okay.”

You let out a content breath of air, and press a gentle kiss on the top of their heads.

——

*NOW. 2018*

“Mimiko? Nanako?” You call out through the hall.

There’s no answer even if on your screen it says they’re just down the hall.

Maybe they’re hiding?

So you call out louder as you pick up your pace. “Nanako, Mimiko. It’s okay, it's just me.”

There’s still no response and that alone is weird, you’d usually get some kind of response, even if it’s to talk back. But right now besides the sound of Choso and your footsteps, there’s just silence.

“Maybe they left,” Choso suggests.

You look back at him with amusement. “Yeah, no, Nanako doesn’t go anywhere without her phone. Not only because it has to do with her technique, but she’s probably addicted to it. It's a problem.” You laugh softly and glance at all the deep cracks on the ceiling that weren’t here before. “Hey, I wonder what happened here,” you point out.

Choso sighs. “This is where I fought Yuji,” he shares, making you look back at him with your lips slightly parted with surprise and awe.

“You’ll have to explain your technique to me later,” you interject. “I’m very curious about how your technique works specifically. I haven’t seen anything like it.”

Choso shrugs. “It’s simple,” he deadpans.

You scoff. “It’s simple,” you mock him, making his eyebrows immediately furrow, while his lips curl to a displeased frown.

You flash him a smile and shake your finger at him. “It’s not simple, it’s complex and interesting, I want to hear about it so you have to come up with something better than it's simple, hm?”

Choso holds your gaze for a lingering moment before he nods once.

“Great,” you praise him and then look ahead again to quicken your pace as you get close to the end of the hall. “Nanako, Mimiko you can come out now!” You call out one more time with excitement.

However, when you reach the end of the hall, you immediately come to a sudden halt as you notice Mimiko bowing down in a pool of blood that's spilled all over the floor in front of the hall that leads to the elevators.

“Mimiko?” You call out quieter and feel your smile fade away when you don’t see her move a muscle, or notice Nanako beside her twin sister.

“Mimiko?” You call out again from where you are, but she still doesn’t move.

Why isn’t she moving?

Why can’t you move?

“Bunny?” You call out a third time and swallow back nervously when she remains unresponsive, and Nanako doesn’t proceed to come out and meet you.

You try to move towards her, but your eyes remain on the insane amount of blood on the floor and you can’t find the strength to suddenly move a single fiber in your body. It doesn’t even feel like your chest is taking in breaths. You’re at a standstill with your heart beginning to pound, and the obscene scene ahead of you.

“Mimiko,” you call out sweetly. “Baby get up. Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’m not mad. Just get up. Please Mimiko.”

A wet streak running down your cheeks snaps you from your stupor and makes you confused about what it can be. So you move to touch the dampness, and when you pull your fingers out in front of you, you see that it’s a tear. You’re crying. Why?

Why isn’t Mimiko getting up?

You take a cautious step forward and see that just a bit away from the thick pool of blood is Nanako’s phone that’s easily identifiable because of her vibrant green bunny case; so you quickly pick it off the ground and wonder why it's discarded and bent and cracked, because Nanako always takes good care of her phone, and hardly ever parts from it.

So why? What happened? Your heart asks.

“Nanako?” You call out and step forward to see if she’s hiding near the elevators, but there’s no one there. There’s nothing here but a gash on the wall, purple blood sprayed across the walls, and thick and deep crimson blood all over the floor that seems to have pieces of flesh littered all over it.

“Nanako?” You call out just above a whisper and keep watching the end of the hall in hopes she’ll walk out of hiding.

Yet there’s just deafening silence and a sharp jab in your heart that makes you gasp. Yet no matter how hard your mind is trying to make you understand what you’re seeing, your heart refuses to let the message through. It fights back against all the intrusion from your insistent mind.

“Okay,” you murmur and wipe away the tears that keep running down your face before you put Nanako’s phone in your pocket since she’d hate it if you stored it in The Worm.

Next, you proceed to walk back to Mimiko and fall on your knees beside her. “It’s okay,” you assure her body that feels stiff under your touch. “It’s okay, baby,” you coo and gently tighten your hold around her arm to flip her to her back. And right away you see that her neck is missing her head.

However, you end up finding it just above her body so you crawl over to pick it up and place it where it’s meant to be.

“You’ll be okay,” you assure her and feel a sharper jab in your heart that hits deep this time and makes your whole body begin to tremble. “I'm calling for help,” you let her know.

You quickly pull your phone out but feel a stare burning into the back of your neck, so you look back and see that Choso’s face had abandoned that nonchalant expression, and replaced it with pity.

And yet, no matter how hard you try to get upset at him for looking at you like there’s nothing you can do, like the end of the world is upon you; when you stare into his eyes you feel your heart crack whilst something tightens around your throat, making it hard to breathe.

You see the harsh undeniable truth in his rich brown eyes, so you quickly look away and call Shoko.

Luckily she answers right away. She’s the only one who’s answered her damn phone.

“Y/N?” She calls out with worry laced in his voice.

“Ieiri,” your voice breaks without you wanting it to, revealing your current emotional state.

“Y/N?” She calls out louder. “What's wrong?”

You part your lips and a shuddery breath escapes past your lips before you answer. “I need your help…I found Mimiko…she needs your help, okay?” You begin to sound desperate. “I know you don’t owe me anything after everything, but Ieiri, this is my girl. She’s my baby girl, okay? You need to come help her, I already lost too much, I can’t go home without the twins. Please come help me,” your voice quivers.

Shoko draws out a deep breath before she responds with urgency. “Okay, I’m going. Just text me where you are and I’ll go. And tell me her condition, maybe you can help her until I get there.”

You nod rapidly and pick up Mimiko’s hand off the floor. “She—well,” you swallow thickly and try to answer, but nothing comes out as you’re hit with a painful blow to your chest that only makes the breath in your lungs come out.

“Y/N,” Shoko insists.

You blink repeatedly and more tears come rushing out.

“Well,” you mumble. “Her head….her head was ah,” you shudder. “Her head was sliced off. And...I think Nanako was sliced to pieces…but they’re here…Ieiri, they’re here. Come help them, please, please,” you beg softly.

“Oh,” Shoko gasps. “Oh, y/n…honey. Listen to me.”

You shake your head. “No,” you interject and grip tighter onto Mimiko’s hand. “No, no, don’t tell me that. Please don’t…they’re my girls. Okay? Maybe I can get them to you? Okay? I’ll have my friend here help me, or-or I can ask Kento.” You nod as you try to find a loophole around the truth she's about to utter. “He just needs to answer his phone first,” you laugh and more tears come rushing out.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Shoko says in a soothing voice that she only uses when she’s being serious. “I’m very sorry, but there’s nothing I can do…they’re gone. So why don’t you come up over here and be on standby, okay? I’ll meet you half—”

You hang up and proceed to put your phone away to cup Mimiko’s hand with the both of yours while you sit in silence and shock.

Your phone rings and you know it’s Shoko trying to comfort you, but you let the phone ring as you stare off at the pool of blood around Mimiko.

Whereas you were speaking to her before trying desperately to plead for your daughters to wake up from an impossible situation, now you sit in silence with your mind's cold message finally creeping into your heart.

It tries so hard to fight, accept anything else but what it sees, but there’s no hiding from the truth unless you want to end up in a hole you’ll never escape from.

And you can’t do that, you can’t fall into insanity because Satori still needs you, she needs her mother. Hakari and Kirara still need you to teach them so much more. Itadori is still out there, as well as Nanami, and everyone else that came to fight. Not only that but you still need to help your brother. More than anything he needs your help now, so you can’t shut off.

You can only break.

And it’s what happens, slowly, and agonizingly so.

Actually, you can barely feel it at first, there were only tears showing what your soul felt inside, but then that creepy grip wraps around your throat, making your breathing heavy as you try your hardest to draw in air to keep your lungs functioning and blood pumping. However, then that weight on your chest you were numb to seconds ago as you filled yourself with blinding hope, pushes back and smothers on more, causing you to start heaving.

Your heart starts to race against your chest and thumps loudly and painfully in your ears, causing you to start getting overwhelmed to the point your paralyzing shock holding you captive let's go, letting you get slammed with the realization that Mimiko and Nanako are dead.

They’re gone.

The girls you raised since Suguru saved them 11 years ago are gone. The girls you loved and promised to protect are gone…forever.

You’ll never be able to come home to them, you’ll never hear whatever silly story of their teenage life they have to tell. You’ll never watch movies on the couch, or share a spa night. You’ll never eat junk food on your bed and fall asleep to some cheesy movie, or grip onto them when they make you watch a scary movie with them.

What’s even worse is that you’ll never hold them again, or comfort them. You’ll never say that you love them, and you’ll never say goodbye…

You didn’t say goodbye.

They were probably so scared. They were alone and scared…

You told them no one would hurt them, and now they’re gone! They’re gone forever and you didn’t get to say goodbye. You’ll never get to tell them that you love them because they're gone!

They’re gone! They’re dead!

And you can’t breathe. You can’t breathe….

Breathe…

Breathe…

Your jaw goes slack as you gasp for air. You clutch onto your chest to try and ease the agony, to try and see if that helps, but you can’t breathe and it feels like you’re going to pass out.

That is until a heartbroken wail escapes past your lips that echoes throughout the hall.

It’s unlike anything else. You didn’t even cry like this when Suguru died. You didn't let yourself, and you couldn’t for your children’s sake, but you can’t hold it in now, you can’t let it pile on anymore. So you cry out again and drop your head on Mimiko’s chest.

You don't even care that Choso might be watching, but you still check. And when you do, you see that he’s not around. You’re alone…

And it hurts more.

But…you try your best to ignore your solitude for now and manage to speak. “I’m sorry,” your voice sounds raspy from how loud you just cried out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”

You drag your head up and put your forehead against Mimiko’s hand. “I'm sorry,” you repeat. “I'm sorry to you too Suguru…I’m sorry I couldn’t protect our girls. I’m sorry.” You sniffle and bring Mimiko’s hand down to press a kiss on her knuckles before you hug her arm against your chest.

If only you could do the same with Nanako too, but she’s gone, completely…

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, and as you draw out a shaky breath a hand falls on your shoulder, making you jump slightly before you look back and see, Choso.

“I thought you left,” you whisper, but feel a sense of relief that he didn’t.

“No,” he says and moves his hands, causing paper to rustle and making you look down to see a large paper map in his hands that only leaves you confused.

However, before you can ask what he needs that for, he extends the map over Mimiko’s body.

“Oh,” you mouth in surprise, and watch the paper cover her completely, leaving only her hand out since you keep it against your chest. “Thank you,” you manage to utter through the shakiness of your voice.

Choso steps back and looks over at you expecting not to catch your eye, but you had been watching him too so you lock eyes and offer him a warm thankful smile that is meant for much more than just covering your daughter's body.

He could’ve left, he should’ve left, but he stayed here and you weren’t alone because of it. He was here and even if he was in the background probably feeling awkward over what he had to witness, you still appreciate his presence. You appreciate his silence because even if he doesn’t say a thing at least you know he’s here.

You’ll always remember that because he was not here after the fact, he was here now, with you. And for that, you appreciate him.

“Really,” you make your gratitude known. “Thank you…” you trail off and sniffle. “And if you want, you can leave,” you contradict your inner thoughts to spare him if that’s what he wants. “Find your father, find what you need about Itadori…I’ll find him later…I just need a few more minutes with my girls.” You nod and offer him a kind smile while you hold his gaze.

Choso doesn’t look away first because unbeknownst to you his mind was running rampant. Besides his current feelings about his father and Yuji Itadori, you ran into the mix as well and confused him more.

Whereas he worshiped you before for what you meant to him, now it feels like you're at his level somehow.

It felt like you were almost unreachable before like you were only something he could admire and feel thankful for, but now it’s different. A bit. He still very much holds you above anyone he’s met, but now besides the way he has to catch his breath when you look at him, or besides feeling his face burn when you say something that makes his heart skip a beat, he now feels the need to fiercely protect you.

After hearing your heartache, and seeing your teary eyes, he wants to protect you so he doesn’t have to see you go through that again.

It’s partially why he didn’t leave when you said he could.

That, and well, before he can do much of anything else, he still also has some things to go over in his head about what he saw in that fake memory of Yuji Itadori.

——

*11:28 pm*

Everything aches and all you feel like doing is staying beside Mimiko. Even if you’re just sitting and staring off at the blood slowly drying on the floor, all you want to do is stay next to her.

Alas, you still need to keep your promise to find Itadori and be at his side as tonight continues to unfold. You need to save Satoru from Noritoshi Kamo, and eventually, you need to go home—even if you don’t want to return home without them, even if you don’t want to explain to your six-year-old daughter that her sisters won’t ever be coming home, and even if you don’t want to go back to your house and see the twins room empty, you still have to.

You need to get up even if it’s hard. You have to…

Get up…get up…

Get up.

Yet when you do stand on your own two feet you need a minute to catch your breath and grasp your surroundings. It felt like you weren’t even conscious in your body just now, it felt like an eternity passed around you.

In reality, though, only a few minutes have gone by. Which is good, if Itadori or anyone else needs your help, they need it now, not later. So it’s good that it's only been a few minutes, you can grieve properly later—

Grieve?

That sounds funny to think about.

It threatens to break you down all over again, but it also feels like you’re making it up. It’s crazy.

It’s just crazy to believe that you have to grieve Nanako and Mimiko. All because of who?

Noritoshi Kamo?

No, doubtful. It doesn’t seem like he would’ve killed them just because. You attacked him so he countered, plus when you saw the twins last it was where the trains stop, this is far from there, so it means it wasn’t him, it was someone else, but who?

Patchface?

He would’ve turned them into a curse if that was the case.

Volcano head?

No, he would’ve burnt them alive.

The other curse with them?

Doubtful.

So was it Sukuna? He’s out. Or he was out, it doesn’t sound like he is anymore.

But why would they have been close to Sukuna? Were they with Itadori?

You have to know. Later. For now, you let out a deep breath and wipe the stray tears off your face, and walk to Choso sitting against the wall a few paces away.

He sees you approaching and his lips part as he slowly sits up to begin to get up, but you plop down next to him and rest your head against the wall.

“Why didn’t you leave?” You break your silence with a raspy voice.

Choso stays quiet for a moment before he draws out a deep breath and responds quietly. “I don’t really have anywhere to go.”

You blink and slowly look over him with pity.

“Besides,” he adds. “I'm still thinking.”

You draw out a deep breath and nod slowly in comprehension. “So,” you probe and look down at the Worm draped around you. “What do you know now that you’ve had time to think?”

Choso lets out another deep breath and mumbles, “I’m still unsure, but I do know that I want to figure it out as I fight for him.” He nods softly. “I'll know soon even if it’s by my father's own mouth, or by my instincts alone.”

A tiny and exhausted smile tugs on your lips at the sound of his words. “Okay, I like the sound of that,” you compliment him and cause him to look over at you.

You also look at him and notice his lips part as if he wants to say something, so you wait. However, his eyes drift past you so you cut in. “I’m going to find Itadori too, and then get my brother back. Not for anyone else, because I know my parents are about to call me and pretend they care so I can help their golden boy. And the rest of the sorcerer society is going to expect me to save him, but,” you sigh. “I’m going to risk my life for my daughter's uncle, whom she loves. I’m going out there because I want to save my brother…” you trail off and share a comforting look.

“I guess what I'm trying to say,” you continue. “Is that if you’re going out there to find Itadori, it’s because you want to. Brother or not, you don’t have to go out there and risk your life. You’re free to do what you want after losing your brothers to him.”

Choso’s eyes drift down for a second before he looks back at you and you realize he makes incredible eye contact—“I need to know,” he says confidently. “And I owe it to my brothers to kill my father.”

You hum softly in comprehension and watch him stand to his given height. You’re about to get up, but he turns and offers you his hand.

His gesture surprises you, even if it shouldn’t, actually you don’t know why it surprises you so much. And you especially don’t know why you stare at his hand for a second longer than you wanted to, but you do and then put your warm hand on his cold one, making his breath hitch as he helps you to your feet.

“Sorry,” you immediately cut in and let your touch linger before you slide it off. “I run warm because of my technique.”

Choso assures you that it’s fine with a shake of his head, making you smile before you offer him a confident look.

“Let’s go kill your dad,” you try to encourage him.

Choso scoffs and the corner of his lips tug to a tiny half smile. “Let’s go,” he agrees with a small nod.

You step forward to begin walking away, but first, you look back at the body you’re leaving behind, and immediately your eyes fill with tears at the sight and the reminder that they’re both gone.

However, you only let a couple of tears roll out as you promise you’ll come back for them later, once your life is secure. You can’t risk having something happen to you or the Worm and losing their bodies along with it, so you’ll come after.

For now, you walk away with Choso with that positive energy long forgotten. You walk in silence now and on the brink of tears.

Choso steals glimpses at you, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he leaves the silence as it is until he has to interject with a question. “Do you also know where Yuji is?”

You break from your stupor and shake your head lightly. “No. I don’t have his location on my phone. We’ll just have to go off instinct or follow the sound of a battle. I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I can try and text him though.”

Without hearing his response you pull out your phone and send Itadori a quick message.

You to Itadori: Could you let me know where you’re at? Please. I’m going to you.

You sigh and as you put your phone away you hope he answers back. Unlike the others who haven’t even read your message.

“Uh,” you interject softly. “After this, Choso, I want to help you get your brothers back from the school.”

Choso snaps his head to you, and you slowly meet his surprised gaze and smile at him so he can know you’re being honest.

“There’s still what? 6 left, and I’ve gone in before, I can go in again,” you continue to explain through his shock. “And it’ll be easier because I currently go to the school for work. I mean sure the higher-ups and the principal won’t like it, but they can suck it because I don’t work for them. They could all die for all I care honestly,” you say without trouble or remorse for them.

“And,” you add in a sweeter and softer tone as you recall what he said a few minutes ago. “You all have a home in my community. You can go there.” You offer him an assuring smile, causing Choso’s chest to rise as his breath catches.

“Why?” He mumbles almost as if he’s out of breath.

You blink and sigh deeply. “Because,” you quickly respond. “I said I was going to take you all out before. I owe it to you to complete my promise.”

Choso lifts his eyes off your lips and meets your gaze to try and find out if you’re playing some cruel joke. But all he sees is what he saw before, what he sees in you all the time he looks into your alluring fire-kissed eyes, hope and warmth. He sees sincerity too in your grieving eyes.

So he trusts that you’re being honest.

Yet he still continues to doubt.

“But…we’re not like you,” he pauses and frowns, making his gaze show conflict that seems to make his brown eyes grow a deeper brown, almost as if they were cast over by a storm—“I’m not like you,” he clarifies. “I’m not…human.”

You stare into his eyes for a moment before you come to a stop, making him slowly mirror your action and face you with confusion mixing in with his conflict.

You proceed to hesitate as you hold his gaze, but then a few seconds later he swears he sees your eyes give off a spark, giving life to the fire lit in your eyes. And before he knows it you approach him and stop only a few inches away from where he stands.

“Give me your right hand,” you demand sweetly as you put your hand out.

Choso blinks in confusion and remains stiff, making you scoff and point at your palm facing the ceiling.

“Come on,” you insist. “Trust me, it’s okay. I mean we are going to fight together so you have to trust me or else we’ll probably die.” You smirk.

Choso’s arm twitches and he lifts his fingers, but he doesn’t give you his hand, so you continue insisting. “It’s okay, I trust you. Trust me.”

Choso lets out a deep breath through his nose and slowly lays his hand on yours, making you flash him a small and proud smile before you turn his hand so his knuckles are resting on your palm instead. You then proceed to gently place his hand against his heart, and you interlace your fingers in between his to press your fingertips against his chest.

And at the simple touch, you hear his breath hitch in the silence that fills the space between you as you feel for his heartbeat that doesn’t come at first. Since his layers are thick it takes a moment, so when you don’t feel anything, you press harder and finally feel that gentle ba-dum beat faster and faster.

“Feel that? That heartbeat?” You ask almost excitedly. “I do,” you assure him and smile at him softly.

Choso’s lips part, but nothing but a huff of air unfurls out. He also thinks you’re about to let go so he doesn’t bother trying to find something to say in the mess you’re causing in his mind. But then, you press your right hand over your chest and proceed to take his hand to place it over yours.

“It’s okay,” you assure him and interlace his fingers in between yours for him as you feel how stiff he is.

“Now feel,” you whisper and glance down for a second before your eyes flicker up to see that his gaze hasn’t broken away from you. He watches you instead of looking away or watching his hand. He holds your gaze with a deep intensity that makes you feel hot while your heartbeat thumps faster under his touch.

Not only that, but you then feel your heart skip a beat under your hands. And you hope he doesn't notice.

“Y-you,” you stammer so you stop and softly clear your throat. “You feel that right?” You ask with more confidence. “My heart beats just like yours,” you comfort him before you slip your hand off, causing his to fall to his side.

“My breath furls in my lungs, just like yours,” you continue and smile wider. “You’re human.”

Choso swallows thickly and neither of you can look away from the other for a moment that seems to grow tensful until he looks down at the floor and shakes his head. “Some of my brothers aren’t like us,” he argues. “They look different.”

You reach over and grab his shoulder, making him slowly look up at you with a deep frown painted on his face. “You see what’s around my neck right?” You quiere.

Choso glances at the worm and looks back at you.

“And a tiger cursed spirit has been almost stuck to my daughter's hip since she could open her eyes because Suguru wanted it to protect her when he couldn’t. She loves that thing, they’ve bonded,” you continue and share a small laugh. “So we see curses, we’re used to strange,” you nod. “And sure, it will take some people time to get used to seeing something new, but as long as they’re like you, as long as they don’t hurt anyone I love or anyone in the community, I’ll welcome them. And so will everyone else.”

Choso's eyebrows furrow and he gently shakes his head. “Why?” He asks.

“Why what?” You rebuttal. “Why we’ll welcome them? Well, that’s what the community is there for. That’s why I made it, so sorcerers like us can have a home…the world is not nice to sorcerers.” You sigh and grow sad as you think about Nanako and Mimiko. “So That’s why,” you finish answering his question.

Choso’s frown trembles and his furrowed eyebrows ease as his eyes grow soft and gleam…

Is he going to cry?

“Thank you, y/n,” he says in a soft voice.

You smile a bright grin as your heart skips a beat at the sight of his reaction and the sound of his voice.

“You’re welcome Choso,” you redirect and pat his shoulder before you give it a gentle squeeze. “Now come on before there’s nothing left to go to.” You chuckle and walk past him.

“Sorry,” you quickly add. “That joke was of poor taste.”

Choso doesn’t hesitate to fall by your side to walk alongside you towards the escalators. And once you’ve stepped on them and rode up, that short bliss fades away as you remember the tragedy that you were dealt. Again. So you frown as quickly as you just smiled.

Choso notices and wants to add something, but what can he tell you to make you feel somewhat better? He doesn’t know the feeling of losing children, but he does know loss, so he knows that what you feel won’t go away by simple words he can come up with; all you want is to see your daughters again, and he can’t give you that. He can’t give you the motivation of revenge because he doesn’t know exactly who killed your girls, he has an idea, but if that man is such a threat as he’s been told, then there’s no way you can defeat him alone, and he can’t send you to die. So all Choso can offer is words from his heart. After all, you trust him enough to tell him things you probably shouldn’t tell him.

“I have three parents,” Choso interjects, making you look over at him as you climb off the escalators. “My mother, the cursed spirit that impregnated her, and the man who mixed his blood with ours and toyed with my mother. Thereby earning my hate.”

He’s sharing?

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say it from the heart. “I can’t imagine it was easy knowing he was doing all that and you couldn’t do anything about it.”

Choso shakes his head stiffly. “No…all I could do in the abyss was dream of killing him while I was trapped in that form. All I wanted besides getting my brothers out was acting out my revenge.”

You step out of the escalator and continue to walk down the hall to reach the next set.

“Did you know your mother?” You need to ask. “I mean I know the form you were in, but did you ever see her? I mean you were conscious, yeah?”

Choso nods stiffly and hums in agreement before he doesn’t hesitate to answer you. “All I remember of my mother is her voice of when she’d talk to me when I was inside her, and a glimpse of her face. I never had the chance to meet her, he never let her meet me.”

You watch the ground as your mind comes up with something assuring to tell him even if your own experience with your mother isn’t pleasant. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” Choso cuts you off. “You did nothing wrong. Her misfortune wasn’t your fault.”

You sigh and nod. “I know, but I’m still sorry that it happened to you. I’m sorry that you never got to know her, or that she never got to meet you.”

Choso eyes linger on you as he hums in comprehension.

“My mother never loved me…” you share suddenly without thinking about it, it just feels right to share something so deeply buried in your heart with him. “Maybe once, but she never loved me enough. She loved my brother,” you huff and glance up. “But never me. But I can say this…I love my children. All five of them,” you smile. “My children mean everything to me, so I can say this to you,” you pause and gather in a deep breath. “I’m sure your mother loved you and your brothers, for you to have such pleasant memories even if they’re few, and for you to have an undying love for her, means she loved you. I’m sure. So be content with that and live for her. Just as you live to act out your revenge against your father, live for her. Don’t let your father win, make him mad, and make him regret what he made, be his nightmare. That’s why my parents are alive, I live to make them mad.” You smirk.

Choso watches you and his lips turn to a soft smile that makes butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach.

“That’s what I plan to do,” he rebuttals. “I owe it to my brothers. And Yuji.”

You smile at the ground and pick on that. “So you know now?”

Choso hums. “Thanks to my cursed technique I can sense the transformation of my younger brothers through our blood connection. No matter how far they are” he says and earns your undivided attention. “For living things, death is the final and greatest transformation. I saw it with my own eyes. I had an intense sensation of Yuji Itadori’s death…” he pauses and looks down at his clenching fist. “…that must mean Yuji is my brother.”

You can’t help but admire his devotion. Just a few minutes ago he was still unsure and he still wanted to fight for him. Now that he knows you can sense a more fierce devotion that you admire.

“It’s going to take a hell of a good explanation for you to convince him of that, I’m afraid I can only help so much,” you let him know the harsh truth.

“Yes.” Choso nods. “I know, but fighting for him, and sticking by his side will help convince him.”

You laugh softly and nod. “Yeah, I’m sure. Just don’t give up.”

“Never.”

And you’ll never give up on your brother either.

“I admire your devotion Choso,” You compliment him, making his cheeks grow a shade of crimson that he hides by turning his head.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

You hum and climb on the last pair of escalators, thankfully!

“And your brother?” He asks.

You exhale. “I told you already. I’m going to get him back and kill that man in Suguru’s body to finally put him to rest…like I should’ve done a long time ago…” you scoff and shake your head in disapproval. “I should’ve disposed of his body the right way. None of this would be happening if I had. My daughters—”

“No,” Choso cuts you off sharply. “Noritoshi is a cruel man. This is his fault, he was probably already creeping around Geto waiting for the right moment to take his body. It’s what he does. He is chaos and evil, that’s what he is, this is his fault.”

You blink your tears away and see him tilt his head so you can meet his gaze as he attempts to be reassuring.

You think.

His eyebrows are pinched together, and his frown stays curled on his face so it’s hard to know, but you see his attempts and thank him for it, whilst you also mentally thank him for not leaving you alone.

If he hadn’t been with you, you probably would’ve stopped and broken down again. You owe your motivation to him.

“Thank you, Choso,” your voice quivers nonetheless.

Choso’s face finally softens completely as he hums and offers you a soft nod.

You hold his gaze until you step out of the escalators and finally begin to leave the damn station. Its felt like an eternity.

“Uh,” Choso adds timidly. “Happy…birthday….you’ve mentioned it was. So happy birthday?”

You steal a glimpse at him and then laugh with tears coming out of your eyes.

“Oh,” Choso breathes out in confusion. “Sorry?”

You immediately shake your head. “No, no. It’s not your fault. It’s just been a hell of a day…I woke up today and all my kids scared the shit out of me when I walked in the kitchen and saw them there, holding a cake and poppers.” You can’t help your smile before you sigh deeply. “Now I’m here…But at least you’re here too, so I’m glad.” You assure him and nudge his shoulder with yours before you pull your phone out and miss him stealing a glimpse at you.

“Now,” you add, “I’m going to make a call, so excuse me.”

Nevertheless, the person you call doesn’t answer, because of course he doesn’t. Everyone’s been screening your calls tonight!

At least though, the next person you call almost always answers, so you call them.

And thankfully they pick up, but all you hear is distant commotion so you speak up first in a soothing voice. “Kira, it’s me, it's Mama.”

A few seconds pass before you hear them exclaim. “Master?! We heard what happened in Shibuya, are you there?”

You sigh and rub your eyes as you nod. “Yeah, I’m here—”

“Are you okay? Do you need backup?”

“No,” you rebuttal sharply. “No. Don’t. Is Hakari with you?”

Kirara hums in agreement.

“Okay,” you say. “Well thank him for answering his phone, I just called him.”

“Sorry,” Hakari interjects through Kirara’s phone. “It’s dead!” He yells.

You scrunch your nose and pull your phone back as he offends your eardrums. “Well,” you say louder so they can hear. “Put me on speaker.”

You hear Kirara smack their lips through the phone before they give you their confirmation. “You’re on!”

You smile sweetly and put your phone back to your ear to threaten them. “If I see either of you in Shibuya, or even catch a whiff of either of your techniques I will cut off all financing.”

“Master,” Hakari tries to argue, but you cut him off.

“No fight club, no gambling, bye-bye social life, and farm work for a year. Understood?” You ask smugly.

“Hard labor is not training,” Kirara grumbles.

You laugh softly. “So is. I’ll make it training. Don’t come to Shibuya,” you make yourself known with a threatening voice. “I…” you pause and exhale deeply. “I know you’re both strong, but I…can’t lose more people, so please for my sake stay where you are, hm?”

There’s silence for a moment as they grasp the sudden tone shift in your voice.

“Got it,” Kirara assures you for the both of them. “Is everything okay?”

You let out a shaky breath and shake your head. “No,” you confess. “But I’m okay. I’ll call later or tomorrow to explain everything, all right? I just needed to give you this warning.”

“All right,” Hakari agrees. “But call if you need help. We’ll go help you, not the school. You alone.”

The corner of your lips tug to a soft smile at the sound of his meaningful words and devotion. “I will. If I need help…” you trail off and sigh. “I,” you continue and look over at the exit you’re finally close to. “I appreciate you guys you know that? I’m proud of the both of you…I love you guys.” You whisper with tears in your eyes. “Just in case you don’t hear from me now you know.”

A moment of silence passes before you hear chuckling.

“You’re such a sap, master,” you recognize Hakari say. “This is why you would have made such a sucky teacher.”

You giggle and can’t help but agree. “Yeah true, but I like to think I make a good mentor to you two. Yeah?”

“Of course,” Kirara assures you. “The best. We love you too.”

Tears slip past your eyes and you cherish their words. “Thank you. And…goodbye…I’ll call soon, hm?”

“All right, we'll be on alert,” Hakari says. “Kick ass master.”

“Kicking ass and taking names,” you play around. “That’s what we do.” You smile and just need to say it one more time. “Goodbye.”

“Bye!”

“Bye goodnight—” they hang up and you keep your phone by your ear for a second longer before you put it away when you finally step outside into the fresh air! Finally!

Yet just as you’re about to say how thankful you are to be under the night sky and comment on how good the air smells like fire, a hand wraps around your mouth and you’re pulled back into darker shadows.

“Quiet,” Choso commands by your ear.

Your eyes widen, and you slowly peer back at him instead of trying to find what he spotted and catch him looking ahead.

“To the left, there’s a curse,” he whispers, and you continue to watch him. “It doesn’t seem dangerous, but we can’t afford a distraction right now.”

You should’ve pulled away right when he warned you to be quiet but you stayed in his arms, why?

Why does he make your mind all cloudy?

You need to stop getting distracted by him.

Then again, it’s good that you are because even if he doesn’t try to be he’s been your savior. You need to be distracted to avoid falling into a pit of agonizing grief. However, the way he makes your heart race and causes butterflies to flutter is something you haven’t felt in a while, and it’s a bad distraction at the moment when you’re in dire need to focus.

“We can get around it,” Choso adds.

You pull away from his grasp to poke your head out.

And the moment you look out your eyes widen with horror and a sharp gasp leaves your lips as you see the large six-legged curse in the middle of the street just outside the veil.

“What the hell?!” You hiss and step back under the cover of the shadows. “That’s a…ugh,” you groan and quickly realize that the curse was placed there on purpose.

It’s right outside the doors you just exited, and it’s by the veil that Itadori is probably in. Plus…it’s a spider-like curse. You hate, hate spiders. You’re terrified of them, it’s like, a phobia.

Suguru knew that, so it must mean the man using his body knows that too. He placed the damn curse there to slow you down.

What a fucking ass!

“We can’t go around,” you grumble and look up to meet Choso’s confused gaze. “It’ll add 15 more minutes or so to our walk. And that’s not even counting the fact that we don’t know where Itadori is exactly. It could take us a long time to find him too.”

“I can lead us to Itadori,” Choso quickly interjects.

You nod softly. “I’m sure,” you argue. “But I’m scared of spiders,” you share with growing annoyance at this situation. “Suguru knew that. So it means your father does too, that curse is out there to stop me from getting close to him. Just like that curse that trapped me earlier was meant to slow me down…he’s playing mind games because that’s my weakness. So it must mean he’s close.”

Choso sighs and glances at the curse out there. “Then I’ll go and distract it and you go past the veil and reach Itadori, he’s not far. I can feel it,” he suggests, but you quickly rebuttal.

“Didn’t you hear me? It’s a curse meant for me, I’ll kill it. Just…don’t leave,” you sound scared, but not scared of what’s waiting for you, but scared to actually be alone since the twins died. He sensed that.

“I won’t,” he assures you and meets your gaze with a determined gaze.

You draw in a deep breath and nod softly.

“We can fight it together,” Choso adds, making your lips slowly pull to a smirk.

“I like the sound of that,” you quip smugly and reach back to take a long blade out of the Worm's mouth to save your technique's strength for later. “Let’s make this quick then.”

“It doesn’t seem strong,” he says nonchalantly. “We can do it.”

You offer him a simple nod and before you can waste any more time, you walk out to meet the curse first, and it immediately catches a whiff of your presence and spins around to face you with its ten beady eyes that make your grip tighten as your breath hitches.

The curse lets out a sharp but low whistle and crawls forward, making you step back. It then tilts its head to the left before tilting it to the right and blinking all ten eyes.

“Okay,” you breathe out nervously and dig the tip of your shoe into the ground before you break into a hasty sprint forward.

The curse doesn’t move, so you manage to slide under it and slice open its belly with your blade before you reach the other end of its body.

And even then it doesn’t react violently, instead, it begins to move its thin legs as it begins to turn around, but once it faces you, you immediately freeze in horror as you see Nanako’s face looking back at you.

The curse displays her face on its body. Her light brown hair drapes down, and it matches her deep brown eyes so they’re the ones looking back at you now; the eyes of the girl you never got to say goodbye to, the eyes and face of the girl you never got to see for a last time because of how she died.

It’s using your memory, and your pain connected to her face to stop any of your attempts to fight back.

And it worked, you can’t move a muscle, you can’t even think of harming it. All you can muster are tears of sorrow as your face contorts to display your heart's agony.

“I,” you mewl and drop the blade in your hand as if entranced by this curse. “I’m sorry Nanako,” you say even if you know it’s not her.

The curse lets out a sharp cry before it begins to sprint towards you on all six legs.

You step back, but you’re entranced by the face on Its body so can’t react beyond that. You want to, your body is screaming at you to move, but your mind doesn’t send that message to your limbs, so it gets closer and closer. Until suddenly you catch a quick flash of Choso before you’re shoved back and fall back to the ground.

And at the moment of impact, you snap from your trance and go on your knees to shove yourself to your feet and help. However, before you can, you then catch Choso’s blood arrow impale through Nanako—no the curses neck. It’s the curse even if it still has on her face.

Alas the curse doesn’t die, it stumbles back and raises one sharp leg in return, but Choso quickly counters by meeting its swing with two sharp blood claws, causing your lips to twitch to an impressed smile.

However, you then notice the curse try to rebuttal by discreetly raising another one of its legs to jab it through Choso, but without thinking you quickly throw your fist out to blast it a whirlwind of air that shoves it back and saves Choso.

And the moment he notices that he peers back out of surprise, so you briefly meet his gaze before you glance at the curse and pull out a thin and sharp piece of the ground to shove it through its neck, causing its head to fall off.

Yet just before it can hit the ground it grows legs from its head in midair, so you use the wind to keep it in place. And just before you can make a finishing blow, Choso's previous blood arrow remerges and cuts through the barrier of air to shoot through the curses head and finally exorcize it.

And it’s only once its head is on the ground that its face returns to what it was before he used Nanako’s face.

“Thank—”

“I'm sorry,” you quickly apologize for your mistake, almost as if you feared his reaction. “I’m sorry. I froze, I’m sorry.”

Many people have told you to not apologize so much, Yuki punched you in the gut once because of it. But you can’t help it, you fear the consequences because of your parent's reaction when you’d make a mistake.

“Y/N,” Choso mutters and turns to face you. “Stop apologizing,” he insists and walks over to you to get on his knees in front of you still on your knees. “The curse is dead, that’s all that matters.”

You shake your head. “We were supposed to help each other,” you rebuttal to explain yourself. “I let you down, I'm sorry.”

Choso holds your gaze for a second before shaking his head. “You didn’t,” he assures you. “You didn’t expect it to do that, that’s why my father put it here. He wanted to be cruel to you to stop you. That’s what he does, but don’t let him win.”

…he’s right, but it doesn’t make what happened right. Nanako is gone, you knew that and you still let it affect you. Choso could’ve gotten hurt because of it. You could’ve gotten hurt because of it…

Just like fake Suguru wanted.

Of course, he probably didn’t think it’d be the twins that affected you, he probably expected it to be someone else you've lost. But he wanted to weaken you that way. He wanted to play with your mental state expecting you to be alone now that he has your brother.

And it worked even if you weren’t alone. But why should you let that keep affecting you? He wants to fight? You’ll fight. He wants you upset? You’ll be pissed.

No more games.

You’re not weak like he wants you to believe.

The twins wouldn’t let you tear yourself down because of it, they believed you were strong, you’ll prove them right and continue to be strong for them.

You’ll get Satoru back, and kill that man in Suguru’s body. You’ll fight back with all your strength and prove him wrong. You’ll be mad at him. All your anger will be directed at him because that's what he wants.

“Let’s go find Itadori,” you interject.

Choso nods in agreement. “He’s not far I can take us to him,” he lets you know.

You hum in agreement and then begin to smirk. “And then we’ll find your father,” you grimace.

“And kill that bastard,” Choso finishes your sentence with the same amount of menacing determination you have now.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Maybe if they stopped flirting with each other they’d get to places faster! Anyway Choso is about to see his girl pop off against his dad!

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweird-orchest