#it helps me to sort my jumbled thoughts

[akq96618]

nowhere

[someartistsammy]

Genesis's childhood award, the basis of pasteurization, and the supposed fragility of Banora Whites.

A take on it from a farm kid that actually specializes in growing apples.

Was talking with a good friend of mine last night about various takes in the fandom last night and was reminded of one I had seen semi-recently about Genesis's childhood genius in supposedly inventing pasteurization.

I want to believe this is a take that comes from being uninformed as to what pasteurization actually is, considering him being the first to invent it around the time of 1990 would show a stunning lack of technological advancements in the world of FF7. Let me explain.

Shinra has had a lot of technological advancements, and we can see those constantly portrayed clear as day throughout the world of FF7. However even in the time before Shinra, during the time of the Republic of Junon, it can also be assumed that they would have pasteurization, a process that in the real world was invented in the 1800s. Exploration of the world in Rebirth also reveals multiple areas that have shipment docks from the time of the Republic. This would include the assumption that this is how people both traveled as well as transported and exchanged goods.

Pasteurization is an incredibly important technological advancement as it's allowed for the easier shipment and trade of food on a global level. The definition can be found below.

In food processing, pasteurization is a process of food preservation in which packaged and unpacked foods (e.g., milk and fruit juices) are treated with mild heat, usually to less than 100 °C (212 °F), to eliminate pathogens and extend shelf life. Pasteurization either destroys or deactivates microorganisms and enzymes that contribute to food spoilage or the risk of disease, … (continued on Wikipedia)

There are different methods such as Low-temperature long time (LTLT), High temperature/short time (HTST) and Ultrahigh temperature (UHT) (also called Ultraheat treated) however that isn't super important to this, just know that HTST is the standard for apple juice.

The point in this being that if Genesis were to have invented pasteurization ~1990, the rest of the world would have been taking incredibly risky measures in transporting food and risking spoiling for decades, as well as various things being unsafe for consumption such as milk. With the advancements the world already had by this time such as phones, war artillery, windmills, and mako reactors, I find it highly unlikely that he would've been the one to invent pasteurization.

I feel as though it is important to mention that Genesis's award was first place in the National Agriculture Awards, but more specifically, an award in the processed food category. The processed category in these awards directly gives it away in the fact that food was already processed enough to have its own category for awards. Presentation on this is in relation to the presentation of a processed product, and not a form of processing itself. In the assumption that these reflect actual reward categories, there are different categories for scientific invention as well as processing systems.

Reference page for the names/categories presented. This is not the description document.

Agricultural Proficiency Award Area Descriptions.

Although there is the argument that they likely didn't use this same style categorizing, its important to note that they did use categories within the national agricultural awards, and they specifically made the choice of processed food, instead of any of the other choices. If he really made such an important invention, why wouldn't it be stated anywhere as clearly being pasteurization, something that would revolutionize the world, or for that matter why wouldn't it be awarded in the name of development of food science?

I believe its also worth mentioning that the Crisis Core Complete Guide says "Because the fruit can only be harvested in this region, it sells for a high price on the market, but the village children don't seem to know this, …" This would be due to the fact that the Banora Whites are common-place in Banora. In a similar way to how wagyu in Japan is significantly cheaper than it is in the United States, due to export; Genesis would have an easier and cheaper time attempting experimentation methods, if there even needs to be any variation for them, resulting in juice with correct pasteurization due to his being local to Banora. (Market price on them in Banora would be naturally lower due to supply likely being higher than demand, as well as not having to worry about import and export fees. Not to mention being the place where it is naturally grown).

*In the above example I used wagyu as a comparison, however this could just as easily be any other exported food that becomes considered rare when exported, another example which is actually more rare would be the black diamond apple.

While mentioning this, I also want to say that his invention is specifically upon Banora White Juice, not apple juice in its entirety of existence. In similarity to pasteurization, this feels like an over-exaggeration of what Genesis actually accomplished.

While branching through this topic, I also want to bring attention to a take I was sent a while back on the supposed fragility of Banora Whites. While going through the Ultimanias with assistance of a friend, nothing could be found on sources hinting towards Banora Whites being fragile. My next assumption is that this conclusion was likely reached on the basis of Banora Whites being mentioned to be region exclusive, and a high-price market item.

Banora Whites are called just that because of their area of growth being only that of Banora in the Mideel region. The growth of Banora Whites is actually tied to the amount of lifestream that flows through the Banora Underground, this gives Banora a very unique type of soil that allows for the growth of Banora Whites. Since Banora is the only place where the crop grows, giving it a very limited area of growth, and since it cannot be grown globally, gives it a very high market value.

Now into the technicality of things, it could also be assumed that the sale of the Banora White was likely tied to its aesthetics, similar to the way that the pink pineapple is in the real world. The difference here being that when juiced, the pink pineapple loses most of what it has going for it in terms of its aesthetic appearance and thus reducing its marketability and price. Meanwhile, Banora whites, while although losing what would make them have a unique aesthetic appearance, could possibly have a specific flavor to them that translates into the juice.

You see, I believe Genesis's intelligence on the matter comes from not creating some life changing way of preserving things, but rather from preventing waste. Although I do not find any info on Banora Whites being fragile, it can be argued that all apples are fragile in a sense, or at least majority of them. They're truly one of those fruits where sometimes you can chuck them at a tree and only see a bruise or dent, and other times you look at them wrong and they'll split wide open.

When thinking of an apple in general, chances are fragile is not the first word that comes to mind, as many other fruits would be considered fragile long before them, and that'd be correct. However, the harvest and transportation of apples, as well as their general growth, can be littered with complications. When moving apples in a commercial wooden apple bin, when you have hundreds of them stacked together, driving faster than even 2MPH by tractor can cause shaking and damage to the fruit by rubbing damage which can create bruising.

Banora is a remote island location, and import and export of items is likely expensive, which would contribute to the income that Banora Whites would bring in (see earlier mention of wagyu and Japan vs US price) Due to being an island, the methods of exporting would have to be either by air, which would be incredibly expensive and fuel taxing, or by ocean. I mentioned earlier that FF7 Rebirth shows multiple docks and ports that would hint towards ocean being the likely way of transportation of food and people. This would require a boat to leave from down by Banora and travel all the way up the coast through the Meridian Ocean. Constant swaying of the ocean and anything unsecured likely leads to aesthetic damages which allow for even less of the Banora Whites to reach market in aesthetically acceptable shelf conditions.

Banora and in general the Mideel Region is a very coastal region that by flora alone also appears to be a very warm and tropical one. By this assumption not only would Banora Whites possibly be prone to sunburn, a reason they likely developed their darker appearance to survive, but also being internally cooked by the heat of the sun. Also being coastal could lead to strong storms brought in by the ocean leaving damage from heavy winds, pelting rain, hail, and similar damaging weather factors. Excessive rain also typically leads to apples suffering growth cracks, which also takes them off the table for being sold to market as-is.

In the assumption that the Banora Whites would survive possibly brutal conditions that are located down in that area, due to any damage caused by going across the sea, they would likely need to be packaged first while in Banora (hence the warehouse) which would also bring up the pricing on them. However, where does this leave the fruit that's been damaged? Just because it has a crack it it or an aesthetic-only scar across the skin does not mean that the fruit is ruined or inedible. This is fruit that can be used for many different things, including juicing. Juicing is a method that ignores damages that are purely aesthetic, and allows for profit where there would otherwise be none given. Genesis's invention is that of one that prevents waste, and allows for another source of income to the area.

Juicing of apples that wouldn't make it to market would keep the price of the pure solid apples that do make it to market still profitable, while also giving use to those that wouldn't be allowed onto the shelves. While its nothing groundbreaking for the world, like pasteurization would have been, it does allow for Banora to be able to sustain itself via income more, and just overall prevent the waste of more food.

Although to some its not as glamorous if he didn't do something that fundamentally changed the world as a kid, that doesn't mean that what Genesis did isn't still something that he was worth awarding for, especially as a youth. Not only did his creation prevent the waste of food, which earned him his award, but Banora White Juice also did become a famous global hit.

[sillyuin]

I'm all yours

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, very domestic fluff.

Pairing: Mingyu x gn!reader.

Warnings: Reader is ill, barely proofread, Mingyu husband material.

- Yuin's note: I forgot I'm self-aware and wrote the most delulu and self-indulgent thing I'd ever write. An ode to my fellow carats who are also getting through sickness.

You didn’t hear the door open, the cheerful voice of Mingyu was the only thing perceptible beyond the pain you were feeling, and even thought it supposed to make you happy, it was difficult to smile. It was much easier to rest your head on his shoulder, wrap your arms around his waist with the little strength you could have, and brush your lips against his neck with a gentle kiss.

“I'm here,” Mingyu responded by hugging you gently, your body trembled slightly and felt cold to the touch. “How was your day?”

“Bad…” you whispered, your voice breaking. “It’s been… the worst…”

The words got stuck in your throat and your mind went blank; the physical pain was so strong it prevented you from speaking. You felt helpless—why was it so hard to just say that your ear hurt? Or was that really all that was bothering you?

Your trembling hands clung to Mingyu's sweater in a hug so tight it almost hurt, while you hid your face in his chest to keep him from seeing your eyes fill with tears. But what started as a weak sob soon turned into an intense wail, impossible to ignore.

“Hey, y/n,” Mingyu patted your back to try to get your attention, but the more he tried to soothe you, the more futile it became.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered between sobs. “… I’ve felt so … alone.”

Mingyu patiently led you to the sofa, where you both sat down. Seeing you cry so inconsolably broke his heart; hearing your trembling, fragile voice expressing all sorts of sad things… It seemed so unfair that only you were going through it.

However, watching you catch your breath little by little was quite comforting.

You told him how your day had gone while he held one of your hands and gently stroked your cheek with the other. Physically, you felt terrible, but the contact of his skin against yours made everything a little more bearable, as if the pain were not that important…

“My neck hurts all over,” you indicated where it hurt with your finger, and he frowned, as if he somehow understood what you were describing. “I don’t think the medicine is helping…”

“This is the second time this year…” Mingyu sighed, frustrated. “Maybe you should change your treatment.”

“Again?” you complained. More than stressed, you were starting to feel depressed. “I’ve lost count of how many pills I’ve taken…”

The truth was he didn’t quite know what to say; he was worried, his mind a jumble of questions. All he could do was hugging you and that was all you needed in that moment.

You had spent the day alone while he was out at work, feeling upset and very sad, but it was better to take the moment to forget a little about all the negative thoughts attacking your mind.

Mingyu seemed to be the only remedy at that moment, and you clung tenaciously to that.

“Tomorrow we’ll talk to the doctor,” Mingyu pulled away a little and patted your hair. “For now, I'm all yours. Tell me what you want and I'll do it.”

You lowered your gaze shyly, wondering whether to say what was on your mind, but you felt encouraged by hearing Mingyu’s laughter. He knew you so well; there was nothing you could hide from him.

“What do you want for dinner?” His face was only a few centimeters from yours, and you started to feel a bit shyer.

“Pizza…?” you lifted your face slightly, giving him puppy eyes.

“Weren’t you on a diet?” Mingyu raised an eyebrow, but your pouty face was more convincing than him. “Alright, but only this time.”

About twenty minutes later the doorbell rang, announcing the delivery. You both sat down at the dining table and ate together while he told you about his day at work, chatting and laughing as if you hadn’t seen each other in ages.

Having Mingyu by your side was one of the best things that had ever happened to you because no matter how terrible the day had been or how sad it was to be ill; you could always have his company and comfort at the end of the day, and that made even the bad things worth it.

After dinner, you both sat on the living room couch to watch a movie, a warm blanket covering you as you searched for something to watch. Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing to focus all his attention on you.

“y/n, how do you feel now?” he tilted his head slightly while smiling.

“Better,” you replied, a little livelier.

“If you’re okay, I’m okay,” he turned his gaze back to the TV screen, holding the remote as he started scrolling through the channels. “Let me know if there’s anything you want to watch.”

“Actually…” You took the remote and turned off the TV. A surprised Mingyu was ready to object and defend himself, but he froze when he felt your head resting in the nook of his neck, one of your legs wrapped around his. “… I just want to hear you.”

“Shall I tell you about when I almost set the kitchen on fire because I was drunk?” Mingyu said casually, his hand resting on your waist.

“I was there, remember?” It sounded more like a tragicomedy than anything else. “The worst ramen you ever made.”

You both laughed softly; you were exhausted, and the night grew heavier while the dim light from a nearby lamp made everything feel more intimate, cozier.

“I love your voice,” you said lazily, your body nearly collapsing on top of him. “Sing for me, Gyu.”

In the silence of the living room, under the warm blanket, you finally managed to rest peacefully without thinking about the pain that tormented you. In the distance, you could hear his voice, tired yet charming at the same time, as you closed your eyes, feeling the warm beats of his heart against yours.

[kismetlotts]

cw: sexual content

Colleague Simon Riley who you banter with all the time. You weren’t scared of him or intimidated by him like everyone else and he found that different; intriguing. You’d seen him kill people so effortlessly, watched him make decisions that would keep people up all night but nothing put you off. There was something there on your end that drew you in- he had no clue what it was until one morning Johnny decided to enlighten him.

“Aye Ghost has everyone tinklin’eir pants’!” He’d laughed, the two of them were walking towards a helicopter preparing for their mission together, his hand pushing Ghosts shoulder trying to get something out the man but failing as usual. Johnny can talk for days, meaningless rambling, life stories, ranting, joking- god the guy doesn’t shut up. He was nearly as bad as you and in his head he was sure you two were distantly related. Two of the most annoying people being two of the most closest people to him.

“Aside from bonnie, eh’ she’s wet for other reasons.” He’d chuckle out, arm still bumping into his shoulder while he laughs loudly, but Simon froze. His whole body hot and stomach swirling surely he must’ve heard wrong. Even if he heard right, it’s Mactavish. He’s not exactly great at reading people more so knowing something like that.

“What?” Simon asked his voice dark and gruffly. Johnnys eyes met his and his cheeky smile fell of his face. Eyes scanning Ghosts for a moment before stopping in shock, mouth open slightly.

“Ya didn’t know? You ave’ her wrapped round your finger! Don’ try mess with me every’ne knows it’s obvious- she’s even gon’ told me tha’.” And Simon just felt lost. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He’d never really been with a woman or exactly cared to, his life was hectic as a youngster and being in the SAS it’s not often he engages or talks to a woman other than yourself. He didn’t see you in a romantic aspect: he’d never really thought of it. You’d always just been you to him, the girl who annoys him, he’d never thought about being with you. Or maybe you were just attracted to him, maybe you just wanted to fuck him- He didn’t know. He didn’t know much about feelings.

“She said herself that she gets wet over me?” He asked again just to be clear. His way with words were cut to the point and open, hearing Simon say ‘gets wet’ so fast and easily was enough to make Johnny cringe internally but he nodded. He told Simon about that night- what you had said, what you wanted. He went over everything thag happened while you two were hanging out. You and Johnny were kind of close and as much as Johnny talks, he didn’t take the Scott man for a liar. Simon spun around on the spot, telling Johnny to continue on with the mission and take another recruit before heading for the offices, catching a glimpse of you sorting through papers.

He slipped into the room quietly, walking up behind you as you spun around reaching for something. Jumping as he looked down at you, silently.

“- Oh my fuck! Simon! You scared me you idiot.” Your heart pretty much jumping out of your chest as you huffed. You’d already been so stressed out with all this paperwork given to you- this wasn’t even your job but of course you’d help out where needed. Simon just looked down at you more, eyes squinting below his skull mask as he looked over you. You shot him a glance, then another one, then another one until you were about to ask what his problem was but Simon spoke first.

“Do I make you wet?”

“….Sorry?”

“Do I make you wet? Like horny?” You were fucking gobsmacked and you knew exactly what had happened and you swore to god were going to fucking murder that mohawk wearing, secret sharing dickhead. And Simon was no better, how can someone just go up to you and ask you that? Your back ran cold and your face burnt hot- words coming out in a jumbled mess.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And instead of talking he took a step forward, cornering you in and making you step back. Not realising what was happening yourself until you were against the wall, looking up at him with them eyes. So wide and innocent, shining in the light, but fabricated with a need. A desire.

Everything in your vision blurred beside Simon, it was like you were back in bed. Lost in your dream world, slipping your hand into your panties, circling your clit imagining he was in bed with you. Imagining you him so close to you. Your pussy throbbed and you could feel the wetness of your panties already, still looking up at him as you blinked. Simon saw it now, the look in your eyes- it really was obvious. His eyes dropped down your body and back up at your eyes as he took a step back himself in disbelief.

“Fucking ‘ell, I do don’t I?” And what could you say? Lie? That would make the situation bigger than it needed to be with either you being found out as a liar or Johnny. You couldn’t admit it could you? I mean the two of you were close but he was still your Lieutenant. You could be in a lot of trouble- fuck if he wanted, you could probably lose your job. A sigh left your lips as you wracked your head for ideas. Excuses, explanations- but you had to be honest with him, it was the only way.

“Look! It’s not like romantic- I’m not like into you like that at all. I just- Okay I just find you attractive. It’s like if you were looking at some hot naked woman, you’d get hard wouldn’t you? I cant help what my body does!” Simon stood still, staring at your legs which only added to the moment. Only added to the aching need you felt

“I’m not naked. I ain’ sexy and I wear a mask for a living ‘nd kill people, you find that attractive, do ya?” Yes. You did and you didn’t know why yourself. You knew what he meant by it and he knew you didn’t find killing people attractive so instead of getting defensive you stayed quiet. You found him attractive, his voice, his height and the mask added to your intrigue. He watched as you remained quiet taking a deep breath and tilting his head to the side.

“So you want to fuck?” His voiced asked slightly deeper and you let out a laugh, back still pressed against the wall as he moved in closer.

“Jesus Christ Simon you cant just ask someone that-“ His hands met your body as he began to trace the fabric of your clothes, running his fingers over your skin slowly because he was starting to see something in you. Something sexual and he fucking liked it. He licked his lips underneath his mask, smirking as he locked eyes with you again.

“Just take my chances then?”

[almondmilkcleanser]

𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - O4

■ ` ♡ characters / fandom ; f!reader x sebastian michaelis - kuroshitsuji + in a binding agreement

■ ` ♡ tw ; begging ; dominance ; dirty talk ; cumming inside + more ; MINORS DNI

main menu | one-shots menu | chapter one | masterlist

■ ` ♡ VIP GUESTS TO THE MEAL ↷@preciousamethyst @crow-like-shiny-things @chrollohearttags @muvaginger @justaproudslytherpuff @kookie-vuitton @starstarbinks @flxxrence @urbunniebaby @nocturessa @neko-michaelis @maidensblessing @aiyaaayei

■ ` ♡ A/N → long overdue I KNOWWW! If you guys aren't following my personal posts im a traveling sonographer now so life has been a little jumbled. But slowly but surely we're coming back! Until further notice I'm uploading MICRO chapters only (1-2.5k words.) I hope you guys understand and still enjoy my works ~

“Oh Sebas-Chan, how could you ever be so disastrously cruel to me? After all we've done together~”

Sebastian’s eyebrow twitched. You remained behind him, peeking shyly over his shoulder. His large hands firmly gripped at your waist, keeping you still.

Sigh.. Sebastian took a breath, cleared his throat, and turned around, fastening his collar in remorse.

“I assure you we have no business of the sort. Now if you don't mind, Y/N and I have business to-”

“I dont think caressing eachother into the night can be considered business, Sebastian. The red haired woman kept her cheshire grin. It made you weirdly uncomfortable, Vespecially when she showed her sharp teeth.

Sebastian was the king of neutrality but that seemed to really get under his skin.

“My apologies, Y/N.” He loosened his grip and turned around to face this.. Grell, person.

“What exactly does your business entail tonight, Grell? As you can see we’re quite busy.” Grell didnt like that at all.

“If you must know, there’s a rise of dead bodies circulating in this immediate area. We’re suspecting a serial killer of some sorts. Is that any of your doing, Sebastian?”

He paused for a moment before replying. “I couldn't be bothered to get my hands that dirty.” That statement made you tense up. Hard.

“Well,” Grell paused, biting the tip of her finger in thought. By the looks of it she was trying to be seductive but it looked downright.. Uncomfortable.

“If your innocence is in fact true, then i'll be on my way. Oh by the way,” Grell leaned over to look directly at you, a glowering smile sending chills up your spine.

You made eye contact with her, only to be frozen in place by the words that left her mouth.

“You be careful running through the night with demons. They are very selfish beings”. She laughed as if she knew the premise of the joke. And with a light grunt, she disappeared into the clouds as mysteriously as she came.

You looked at Sebastian who returned your worried gaze with a disgruntled one.

“What was that about?” you quizzed.

“Who ever knows with that one.” He sighed, helping you off the barrel you practically made an indentation on. You could even feel small splints of wood under your fingertips by how hard you were gripping the edge.

“Shall we proceed onward?” it wasn't like he waited for you to decline or accept, he began his stride out of the backstreets and back onto civilization.

You weren't too sure, but if you were not mistaken you could tell that statement Grell made had him a little more stiff than what he previously was.

-

You two walked for what felt like another hour. Eventually you two stumbled upon a tailor shop. You gawked at the fine craftsmanship bestowed upon the multiple suits and dresses that were on display. The stitching, the hem, everything drew your attention in multiple directions.

“Right this way, Y/N.” He opened the door for you, a small smile on his lips at your childlike fascination.

“What are we doing here?” The outside paled in comparison to the inside of the shop. Just what were you two doing here?

“If you're going to be accompanying me and the Master”, the bell above the door sprang to life, signaling you and sebastian’s entrance, “Then we have to upgrade your wardrobe.”

“Upgrade my war- Sebastian, what do you mean? Im just a maid, theres no way i could affor-”

“Affordability isn't a subject of conversation for the Phantomhive. If the Master sees fit, he will make due. It never hurts to redeem a credit here and there.”

Your shoulders slumped and you sighed. Why do you even bother fighting with him.

“And besides,” he snaked a hand around your waist pulling you closer towards him. You yelped, swallowing hard as he slowly made his motion from your waist, to your breasts up to your jaw before finally tracing your bottom lip with his thumb.

His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t accept the paperwork of my contract with stains. I’m a higher class demon. I like my ink,” his fangs subtly poked from his upper lip, making your stomach drop in anticipation. “To shine atop of crisp parchment paper. Dont you agree?”

He tilted your jaw to the side, eyes lowering to focus in on a spot to suckle on. You tried to pull your head away, but your body melted under his touch, his gaze, his charm. If you weren’t mistaken you would have sworn your lower half dissolved into water.

“I cant wait to take you back to the carriage.” he whispered in your ear, his other hand snaking around your waist.

“Who goes there?!” A shrill voice cried out in the backroom. When you finally came to your senses, sebastian stood straight up, fastening his tie. You could even see the flush in his cheeks.

Does he want to prolong the contract or was it poor timing?

“Hello?! Speak up!

“Now Nina,” Sebastian chuckled, “I think the young Master made the right phone calls to let you know you were coming.”

“Oh! Sebastian, is that you!” In an instant, a busty brunette with glasses and a high side ponytail practically sprinted out of the room.

She had multitudes of fabrics and measuring tapes across her shoulder but the excitement in her eyes never faltered.

“It’s always a pleasure, Nina.” sebastian lowered his torso into a polite informal bow, his eyes darting to you, making you do the same.

“Oh nonsense! Up you two!” Nina dropped the garments on a large oak table and planted her hands on her hips.

“My!” She exclaimed. “She’s pretty, is she new? Is she the masters’ msitress?” You choked on your words. Mistress?! To a child?!

“Oh wait, I get it! She’s your girlfriend!” Now Sebastian broke out into a nervous fidget.

“Nothing of the sort, Nina.” Well, shit.

“We’re just here because she needs a change of clothes. The Master finally realizes that even I cannot tackle all of the household tasks alone.”

“Eh? Thats pretty bold of you to say, Sebastian. You must really like her skills”.

Sebastian chuckled to himself, his eyes dancing your way as the double meaning paraded across his mind.

“She’s talented. I’ll say that.”

There was a brief silence. Then Nina cleared her throat. “Well, alrighty then, arms up miss…”

“Y/N.” Sebastian spoke up before you could, throwing off you and Nina.

“Her name is Y/N.”

NEXT CHAPTER

[luveline]

Can I request an Eddie and Roan, where she goes to Wayne's house and Eddie and Reader are there talking with Wayne but also planning what to get Roan for Christmas?

eddie and roan ♡ fem!reader

“Got it?” 

Roan nods and hops up the last step to Uncle Wayne's while you and Eddie follow behind her. You're carrying a big Christmas cake held tight to your chest while Roan's father insists on carrying the drinks, an eighteen pack of glass cokes, enough to keep Wayne going for the next two weeks at least, less with help. 

“Uncle Wayne!” Roan calls as she opens the door. It swings wide and hits the wall. She doesn't care. She's about to see Wayne for the first time in almost two weeks, and she missed him like crazy. Eddie almost got sick of hearing her ask when he'd be feeling better. “Uncle Wayne!” 

The second shout is much more desperate.

Wayne appears in the curve behind the kitchen doorway to smile at her. “Hello, my chicken.” 

Eddie snorts and slams the cokes down on the sideboard with a jumble of clinks. Wayne is a great dad, but he never called Eddie anything so saccharine. Bud and babe was about as good as it got. Roan gets all the sweet stuff, chicken and gorgeous and baby girl. It doesn't quite make Eddie jealous —nothing feels as secure in parenthood as knowing someone else loves your kid just as much as you do. Wayne would die for Roan without question. He can call her chicken if he likes. 

Roan barrels across the carpet in her Mary Jane's and slams into his legs. He pulls her up into his chest, giving her hair a smattering of quick kisses, her dress bunched by his hugging arm. “It's so nice to see you, honey, I missed you!” 

She grins and makes a pleased, almost feral sort of sound as she kisses his cheek. “I missed you too! We missed our sleepover!” 

“Yes, we did. So I get you for two days, yes?” 

“Yes!” she shouts, looking over her shoulder at you and Eddie to confirm. 

Eddie holds up his now empty hands, though they don't stay that way for long as he takes the cake from you. “No arguments here.” 

Roan laughs and squeezes herself under Wayne's chin. He wraps her up and keeps her, assessing you and Eddie with suspicious eyes. “How are you both doing?” 

Eddie brushes past Wayne to put the cake on the table. Wayne isn't really asking Eddie; they know too much about one another having spent the last decade together, first by sharing a wall and now working side by side at the shop. Eddie's sure Wayne's sick to death of his complaining by now, but you're deserving of some sympathy for sure. 

“She's getting better. Aren't you, sweet thing?” Eddie asks you. 

“I'm fine,” you say, shooting Wayne a smile. “It was probably the same thing you had.” 

“Yeah? He take care of you?” 

“Always does. He's never let me down.” You cross your arms over your front. “But how are you doing?” 

“I know you missed her,” Eddie interjects, “but if you're not feeling up to it, she doesn't have to stay all weekend.” 

Wayne raises his eyebrows to protest. Roan beats him to it, yanking herself away from his cuddling to glare at the suggestion. “Dad, you said!” 

“Said I'd see if he was up to it, yeah,” Eddie placates. 

“I'm up to it.” Wayne gives Roan a soft smile. “We'll be good, right? Watch TV, eat hot dogs for breakfast, lunch, ‘n’ dinner. Dad's just being silly.” 

Roan leans back into the hug, relieved, and Wayne pulls her head to his chest, covering her ear subtly. “Thought you needed to get some things? You know, from Santa?” he whispers, ‘Santa’ mouthed without sound. 

“Yeah, if we knew what to get her,” Eddie says, brushing his hair behind his ears. “Kid's impossible. Asked Santa for a baby sister and a pet turtle.” 

“What's wrong with that?” 

“Wayne–” 

“The turtle, I mean.” He nods at you apologetically. 

You aren't offended at the idea of a baby sister being an easy gift, and you laugh at his correction. “We don't have room for the tank, I already checked.” 

“She got the measuring tape out and everything.” 

“What?” Wayne asks. “Put it outside.” 

“It's not that easy,” Eddie sighs morosely. “They're very particular creatures.” 

“It’ll suit you nicely, then.” 

You laugh again. Roan wriggles to be put down, curious at the sound, though she wasn't as deafened as it seemed. “Santa will bring the tank, guys, that's how Santa works, and the turtle. We just need to move the couch,” she says simply. 

“Where will we watch TV?” you ask. 

“Here?” Roan suggests. 

Eddie nudges Wayne in the side. “Looks like I'm moving back in after all.” 

Coats are taken off, shoes stacked in a corner. Wayne makes everyone a cup of coffee and a sandwich, even Roan, though her coffee is milk with just a splash of coffee that she begs for but doesn't touch after the initial sip. Theories for where they might house and care for a pet turtle are shared through crumbs and foam moustaches, Wayne with a lap full of grandchild, and you with an armful of Eddie. He keeps turning to you to scan your face for signs of fatigue or sickness, eyes lingering, his hand resting and rubbing at the top of your thigh. 

“We'll have to give up our room,” he suggests to you with an air of defeat. Despite his sombre tone, love lines his gaze. “When the turtle gets huge and wants to go back to the ocean, we'll have to fill our bedroom up with a swimming pool.” 

Roan sits back guiltily. “Well, maybe not like that. Can the turtle sleep with me?” 

“That could be fun. We'll get you a water bed,” you say, to Eddie's delight. He chokes on a handful of chips and needs to be whacked on the back lest he asphyxiate, and while you're still laughing at your own joke and his reaction, you pat him more gently on the back before passing him your full coke. “Here, handsome.” 

Wayne's pretty sure his nephew's found his soulmate. “What about a tortoise instead?” he asks Roan, attempting to spare you both. 

Roan pouts at her Uncle, confusion furrowing her thin brows. “What's the difference?” 

“Couple hundred dollars?” Eddie asks. 

Wayne kicks him under the table, but never hard enough to hurt. “Nothing much, chick. I'm sure Santa will figure it out.” 

[emotionalmessss]

Plaything

A/N: sukuna one-shot after my small hiatus from writing. I'll be looking over my requests and changing up my rules a bit, but enjoy!

Synopsis: studying with Yuji doesn't go as planned when sukuna decides to make a surprise appearance.

Warnings: heavy non-con, humiliation, slight yandere, slight violence, all sorts of bodily fluids, angst I guess, forced, size difference, sukuna is an ass. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 6.7K

“Yuji!” I called out from the living room. “Yuji!” 

I fiddled with the pen that was tucked between my fingers as I waited for any sort of answer. I couldn’t think of a worse person to teach than Yuji. He could barely sit still for more than a few minutes before his mind wandered and he grew fidgety. I was previously enjoying my Friday afternoon at home, and alone, before Gojo called to inform me that my plans were going to change. 

Not that I entirely cared, I could use the company from- 

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a slam coming from the adjoined room of my apartment.

“Fuck.” I groaned and caught the pen in my palm, giving it a tight squeeze before glancing up at the doorway.   

“Get your ass out of the kitchen now!” I demanded, raising my voice since my previous call to him was ineffective. 

My legs folded awkwardly beneath my body as Yuji came rushing out of the doorway - a bag of chips and cookies tucked under his arms as he watched me with widened eyes. My eyes glided over his face with a look of disapproval, my lips pulled straight as he jumbled the contents in his hands. 

“Are you done raiding my pantry?” My lips shifted into a sarcastic smile. “Food can wait.” 

“Training was hard! Maki had us working overtime today.” He pouted as he began walking towards the couch. He dropped the cookies onto the table, but gripped the chips like he thought it was going to be his last meal. 

I reached down for the papers and shook them in his face. “That doesn’t mean you can slack off on your school work!” 

He flinched, his hands shooting up to block his head from my banter. “I can’t think on an empty stomach!” Yuji gave me a nervous smile, his eyes closing as he chuckled. 

I tossed the papers onto the table. “You can’t think regardless.” I poked playfully at him. 

“Hey!” Yuji pouted as he ripped open the bag of chips. I watched as he fished a handful out and shoved them into his mouth. Crumbs fell from his lips and onto his black slacks - I guess he changed back into his uniform after working with Maki and Panda.  

“It’s true.” I fully turned to look at him, adjusting myself on the couch. “Not all your learning can be done in the field.” I watched as he dug his hand into the bag again and leaned over towards the textbooks and papers in front of us. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He grumbled, his lips pulled back into a frown as he looked down at the work he fell behind on. He squinted for a moment before looking back up at me. “Oh! You know what would be great?” Yuji quipped, seemingly attempting at stalling. 

“What would that be?” Another heavy sigh came out. 

“Some tea! It could help us relax and -” 

I cut him off with a laugh, swatting the back of his head gently. “I’ll make some tea after we finish the first page.”

Yuji let out a small groan of annoyance, his mouth pulling down into a frown. I watched patiently as his head tilted down in acknowledgement. Another smile pulled at my lips as he situated himself on the couch, hunching over slightly as he read over the pages. I had met Yuji a few months back, along with Nobara and Megumi. We all got along well, and had frequent missions all together. But I grew closer to Yuji than I did with everyone else. His mannerisms were often like a child, always smiling and giddy. I found it difficult to remind myself that he is the vessel of a thousand year old curse that has a taste for blood and chaos. 

Ryoumen Sukuna. The King of Curses.   

I glanced over at Yuji slowly, watching as he worked through the readings and questions at a decent pace. He’d be faster if he didn’t second guess himself so much. He was smarter than he let on. He hadn’t even asked me for help yet - too stubborn to seek help from others. 

Yuji trained almost every day with Gojo and Maki, upping his strength and keeping Sukuna at bay. I was astonished at his drive to succeed and rid the world of curses. He seemed to be unfazed by the monster hidden deep within his subconscious. 

Megumi told me about the first time he met Sukuna, through Yuji’s body of course. He told me that he felt like he couldn’t even breathe, like all of the air was suddenly sucked out of the air by just being in his presence. His cursed energy was on a whole other level, even when he wasn’t in his true form. Megumi explained that it was one of the few times where he didn’t know what to do. Should he exercise the boy who impulsively consumed one of those wretched fingers? Should he call for help? Should he run? I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must’ve been like. I didn’t even want to. 

Thinking about it made my stomach churn and my mouth dry up-  

“Y/N?” I heard his voice call out. 

My vision came back into focus as I turned to glance at the salmon hair coloured boy. “Hm?” 

“You kinda zoned out there, are you okay?” 

Oh, nothing really. Just lost in thought about the blood thirsty curse hidden deep in your body that liked to come out at the worst of times. Nothing much, you know. I monologued to myself, keeping my expression blank. 

“I was just thinking of making us some tea now.” I forced a small smile and brushed a stray hair out of my eyes. I didn’t want to concern Yuji with my own paranoia, he faced enough of it from the Elders and everyone else that came into contact with him. 

He watched me, carefully studying my facial expressions to see if I was hiding anything. 

“I have this new one that I just bought, I think you’d like it.” I pushed myself up from the couch, not wanting to cause Yuji to worry more than he already did. I carried myself over to the doorway and paused for a moment to look back at him, “you’re doing great with your work. I was watching the entire time.” I flashed another smile, which caused Yuji’s expression to mirror my own from the praise. 

“Thanks, y/n.” 

I gave a small nod before disappearing into the kitchen. I needed a minute to myself, and couldn’t understand the sudden anxiety creeping up inside my subconscious. It’s not like I was in any danger being around him. I spent more time with Yuji than I did with anyone else, he almost spent more time at my apartment than his own dorm. 

Still, with all the reassurance that I engraved into my head, I couldn’t help but feel a gnawing anxiety in the back of my head. Christ, what was going on with me?  

As I waited for the tea to brew, I peeked into the living room. 

Yuji leaned over the table, pen in hand, and his free hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked through his readings and questions silently. He huffed slightly and I realized that he was probably stuck somewhere and that I would need to guide him. 

My attention focused back on the tea, which I now poured into two glass mugs. The liquid steamed and smelt wonderful. I balanced them both in my hands and made my way back over to the living room. Yuji still sat in the same position, frowning deeper. 

“Stuck?” I asked, placing down the mug beside him and plopping back onto the couch. 

“Yeah, I don’t understand this.” He pointed down. 

I leaned over beside him, pulling my skirt further down my legs as I did so. “Oh, that’s easy.” I began walking him through the readings and explaining the questions a little deeper. He seemed to be getting a hang of it pretty quickly. He was definitely smarter than he let on.      

“You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.” I muttered, sipping at my tea. 

Yuji turned to look at me, a small blush creeping up at his cheeks as he let out a nervous chuckle. “You’re just saying that. Besides, there’s no way that I could get this done without your help.” He reached for his mug, taking a small gulp before grimacing. 

“What is it?” I asked before it dawned on me. “Oh right. You like honey in your tea.” I jumped off the couch before he could say another word, rushing off to grab the jar from the cupboard. 

I reached up for the little jar that was tucked away behind the other cans and nonperishables. As soon as I grabbed it, my ears caught the noise of a small clattering coming from the other room. I dropped flat on my feet and glanced over in the same direction. 

“Yuji?” I called out, walking towards the noise. “Are you okay?” 

I peered around the corner slowly, sticking just my head out. “Yuji?” I looked over at the now empty couch. His papers and snacks were sprawled out everywhere and his cup of tea was knocked over, dripping onto the floor. 

My attention drifted over to the front door, which was still shut and locked from earlier. 

“Yuji, quit messing around.” I stood in the doorway now, my eyes searching for any sign of him. Was he trying to freak me out? He usually fooled around like this, but he was so engaged in his work; jumping out and scaring me seemed like it would be the last thing on his mind. 

My fingers tightened around the jar of honey, frowning as I saw the mess left behind. It almost looked like there was a - oh god. My legs started to move towards the front door, before I even had time to process everything. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but whatever this was, it was telling me to get the fuck out, and fast. 

The tips of my fingers grazed the cool metal of the handle, shaking heavily as I fumbled with the lock. 

My body froze completely when the sound of a throaty, deep chuckle reached my ears. Much to my dismay, my movements halted and I could no longer control my body. My back was turned away from the eerie sound, my heart trying to convince me that it was all in my head. 

Heavy footsteps followed when I made no attempt to react. The beating in my chest amplified, my hands loosening just enough for the jar that I still held to fall and shatter against the flooring beneath me. 

“Leaving so soon?” The deep voice asked, still sounding like they were behind me, only a few feet back

A small squeak slipped from my lips as I finally managed to gain control over my body. Although, I did not turn to face that ominous voice. Instead, I glanced down to the broken jar at my feet; the sticky honey pooled at my toes, pieces of glass reflected back up at me. 

My hand was still wrapped around the doorknob, debating on my options. Could I unlock the door, open it, and run down the hallway and outside before they reached me? Would I have time to scream for help? Would anyone actually come? My thoughts were running a million miles per second and I couldn’t keep up. 

Another laugh echoed behind me, this time it sounded amused. I twisted my head back to finally make eye contact, only to feel my last shred of hope disappear when I noticed who - no what, was behind me. 

A shaky breath fell from my lips as my eyes focused on His face. The black markings spread down from beneath Yuji’s bright eyes, reaching all the way to his chin. Another two marks stretched across his nose and on his forehead, solidifying my previous fears. While it was technically Yuji’s body, it didn’t really look like him anymore. He seemed to grow a foot taller, while his training outfit strained under new muscle mass. 

Sukuna. Fucking Sukuna.  

The expression on his face almost sent me into a panic attack. He watched me like a predator stalking its prey, head tilted ever so slightly while his lips pulled back into a smirk. He knew. He fucking knew. My pupils were blown wide as I gripped the handle tighter, attempting to use my thumb to unlock it as I maintained eye contact with the curse that adorned my best friend's face and body. 

The air in the room felt thick like glue, wrapping around my chest and choking me out. Was this what Megumi felt? Constricting and suffocating? 

Sukuna’s eyes moved from mine and floated down my body, lingering slightly on my chest and waist before shooting back up to read my expression. As much as I wanted to cringe at his prying eyes, I managed to keep a straight face. I wanted nothing more than to run down the hallway and find Gojo, but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. 

His wandering eyes caused a rush of heat to flow through me, unsettling my already flipped stomach. No. He couldn’t possibly-

Megumi’s stories lingered in the back of my head. He’s on a whole other level, Y/N. You can’t take him on yourself. If he ever switches with Yuji, you run and find Gojo or me. He would tell me whenever Yuji wasn’t around. I guess he didn’t want to make Yuji feel even worse than he already did, as he was the vessel. 

“Well?” Sukuna spoke again, the deepest of his voice startling me to jolt straighter. “Aren’t you going to run?” He sounded bored, almost like he was annoyed that I wasn’t reacting. I knew that he wanted me to react, whether it was to run, scream, cry, or beg him to switch back with Yuji.  

I swallowed hard. “No. That’s exactly what you want and I don’t want to give you the satisfaction.” I fully turned to face him, letting my hand drop from the handle. 

My body buzzed with adrenaline to escape, but I knew there was no way that I could outrun him. I had to play this smart. Yuji was almost certainly fighting for control, but he must be exhausted and weak from all of his training. It was going to take him longer. I just had to stall a little bit.  Despite the pep talk that I mentally gave myself, I still felt horrified. My breathing stunted unconsciously, restricting the access of air into my lungs. 

Sukuna’s arms crossed over his chest and he grinned, flashing me his unnaturally sharp canines. 

“Have it your way then.” 

Before I could fully process his words, he dove towards me. I gasped and leaped out of the doorway, narrowly escaping his sudden attack. Fuck. So much for stalling. I stumbled over my own feet as I threw myself over the back of the couch, landing on my unsteady feet. My body spun around in an instant, focused on keeping him within my sight. Sukuna watched me as I took a small step backwards, but remained on the other side of the couch. 

“Stay the fuck away from me.” I took another hesitant step back, eyes darting back to the door. No more stalling. Yuji wasn’t going to come back out for a while. It was time to get the fuck out of here and fast. I had limited options on where I could go. Getting to the front door meant that I would have to run by him, which certainly meant he would capture me. Running to my bedroom wasn’t smart either, as there was nothing to barricade myself in with. Instead, I focused on keeping the distance between our bodies.  

Sukuna’s eyes brightened when he watched me stumble back, enjoying the fear that he was pulling from me. It was sick. My every move was being studied by his crimson eyes, anticipating what I would do next. 

“You’re just as annoying as that brat.” He laughed, referring to Yuji. 

Once again, the unnerving sound of his laugh startled me into stepping backwards at a quicker pace. It was silly. I knew that retreating would not allow me an escape from the sickening sound of it. But I stepped away all the same, hoping that some distance from the Curse would grant me freedom. 

My eyes left him for only a moment, and when I looked back, he was out of my line of sight. I snapped my head from side to side, remaining on edge while I looked around the small room. Where did he go?! I bit down on my lip, and without thinking, I dove forward towards the front door again, only to be stopped. I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders and yank me backwards. Behind? How?!  

I expected to land on the ground, but my back hit something just as hard and knocked the wind out of my lungs all the same. I let out a sharp groan at the feeling, kicking and throwing my elbows back and in attempts to get free from his hold. My attacks did very little as his large hands moved from my shoulders and down to my waist. His grip was strong and sharp, digging into the soft flesh of my torso. 

“Let me go!” I trashed about, screaming and fighting furiously. 

I felt the rumble of his chest as he laughed, planting my back harder against his chest. The sudden movement surprised me, and I gasped before resuming my fight. He hummed in satisfaction, sending another wave of vibrations down my spine. 

“That’s the spirit, slut.” He growled, giving me another tight squeeze. 

I huffed, stalling my fighting. “What the fuck do you want?” My voice was low and hoarse. 

“Isn’t that a stupid question coming from a sorcerer?” He mocked, leering down towards me. His body was oddly warm, warmer than I ever thought it would be. 

I opened my mouth to respond but before I could, I felt my body being slung forward to the ground. My hands shot out and I let out another surprised cry, bracing myself for the hard fall. My knees and hands slammed against the ground, landing on all fours. Before I could stand up again, Sukuna’s foot planted on my back and pushed me onto my stomach. I let out a gasp of strangled air as I collided with the hard floor, Sukuna’s foot grinding me harder against the cool surface before retreating. 

I gritted my teeth in anger and flipped myself over clumsily. Sukuna glared down at me, his smug expression taunting me into fighting back. Instead, I started to crawl backwards, attempting to distance myself. He matched my movements and followed me backwards at a slowed pace, until he dropped over top of me. I screeched, half expecting his full weight to crush me, but he caught himself, hovering just above me. 

His red eyes focused down on mine, drinking up my quivering form. My heart felt like it was going to explode from anticipation, fearing his next movements. A sob of both fear and helplessness left my lungs as I watched those red eyes drift over my body. 

“Yuji…” I muttered softly, turning my head to the side. 

Sukuna must’ve heard me because he snorted, but chose not to respond to my helpless plea for Yuji to return. He had control in this situation, and there was no way that he was going to willingly switch back at this moment.   

The tears I fought back pooled at my lower lash line, slipping down the sides of my flushed cheeks as Sukuna gleaned over me, lowering himself closer to my face. I shut my eyes tightly and cringed back. This was it. I thought. He’s going to tear my throat out with his sharp teeth. I was going to die, choking and sputtering in my own blood. I braced myself for the pain, preparing myself for death that awaited me for open arms. Yuji…Nobara…Megumi…

I felt nothing but warmth. Was this death? My eyes snapped open when I realized that this feeling was not my blood seeping out of my throat; it was his tongue. My shriek of fear turned into disgust when I felt his tongue press flat against my jawline and lick up my cheek and over my eye. 

“Urgh… wha-” My cheek damp with his spit as I looked up at him. He wasn’t going to- no. He wouldn’t… No.    

His face retreated back from mine, a feral look of satisfaction painted across his features. My face twisted back up in disgust when I realized, causing him to chuckle. Before I could scramble away from his intentions, his arms wrapped around the back of my thighs and he pulled me against him, draping them over his own. My skirt rode up around my hips as he placed himself flush against my core, grinding against the thin fabric of my panties. 

My gaze widened and I shook my head, squirming against his grip. “No! Not this! Just kill me!” 

Sukuna laughed again, “You sorcerers really are stupid, huh?” His nails dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, parting me further open for him. 

My hands flew to meet his, scratching and pounding against them with a new sense of urgency. Shock took over my expression as I fought with a newfound strength, but it proved to be fruitless.   

“You can’t!” I cried, kicking and twisting my body. 

Sukuna bellowed out from a laugh, my frantic eyes meeting his half lidded ones, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side as he watched me. He looked as if he wanted to devour me, his tongue darted out again as he licked his lips. Sukuna felt an overwhelming sense of pleasure as I struggled in his grip. There was a deep, dark primal instinct embedded deep within him that made him enjoy forcing submission.   

“I can and I will, slut. No one is coming to save you. You’re all mine.” His hands moved faster than I ever thought as he ripped the shirt of my uniform, the cool air hitting against my already erect nipples and eliciting a sharp gasp from my lips. My chest heaved up and down as my hands flew from his and over my chest, trying to shield my body from his lustful gaze.  

Sukuna grinned, prying my hands away. He groaned, staring at my tits that were on full display. He looked hungry, as if he hadn’t eaten in years and I was the perfect meal for him, served up on a silver platter. My mouth parted when I felt something wet and slimy fall on the swell of my breasts. My eyes blew wide when I saw the glimmer of saliva slide down to my collarbone, pooling there. Drool. He drooled. 

“Oh god. You’re sick.” I cried, wanting the feeling of his skin off of mine. 

“Your God can’t save you now. Take it like the good little slut I know you are.” He wiped his chin with the back of his hand before lowering it down to my cunt, which clenched around nothing. With my skirt bunched around my hips, it provided an ease of access. Sukuna looped his finger through my panties and tore them off in one swipe. 

“No!” I tried to push his palm away futilely. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Yuji can see everything.” He oozed, his voice hitting me like a ton of bricks. “Maybe then that brat will stop jerking his cock to the thought of you.” He snickered, his fingers prodding against my dry folds. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, somehow hoping that his words would be blocked out by this. “Stop, this isn’t right.” I didn’t want to believe the things he was saying, but his taunting would not let up. 

“What’s not right? That you’re a little cock tease or that Yuji fucks his fist picturing you bent over and screaming for him?” He sneers, his fingers make work on my cunt, spreading open my folds but never reaching for my clit. 

His words felt like a vice, tightening inch by inch with every mocking word that dripped from his mouth. Despite looking like my best friend on the outside, there were no similarities on the inside. Sukuna was sadistic, cruel, and demeaning. He enjoyed the chaos he caused, having zero regard for the lives of anyone but himself. 

My reaction must’ve drawn out some pleasure from the monster above me because he spoke up again, suddenly. “You know how many times I had to listen to that brat moaning out your name?” He taunted, glimmering teeth on full display. “It’s only fair that I get a taste.” 

I felt his fingers pull away for a moment, while another shaky sigh came from my parted lips. That loss of contact only lasted for a few seconds, and then came the sense of familiarity when that warm wetness returned. My breathing stuttered as my eyes shot down to my core, immediately noticing the second mouth that formed on the palm of his hand. My mouth slacked open as I watched the thin muscle poke out and lick a stripe up my cunt. 

“Urgh-” My head fell back against the floorboards, feeling the heat begin to accumulate between my legs. 

Sukuna hummed in satisfaction, his free hand moving towards my face. I flinched when I felt his surprisingly soft hands grab my chin and turn my attention back towards him. “Eyes on me or I’ll rip them out of your pretty head.” His nails dug into the sides of my cheeks as he pinched them together. 

His tongue dragged down, gathering up the slick that quickly bloomed at my entrance before pulling back up and drawing out slow circles on the tender nub. He repeated this movement a few times, licking up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. I could hear the lewd noises that my cunt was making, his spit and my own slick mixing together into a sticky mess. As much as I fought against the feelings he was providing me, I could not fight the soft mewl of desperation when his tongue slipped into me. 

“So wet already, pathetic.” As much as I wanted to look away, I enjoyed having my eyes still in their sockets. 

Sukuna groaned at the sensation of my cunt clenching down on his appendage. He had not tasted something so good in over a century, so sweet and warm, dripping out all for him. It felt even better since he could hear Yuji crying out in the background of his mind, shouting obscenities and begging the Curse to stop his assault. Sukuna did not. His tongue dove deeper, licking and slurping like a wild animal at a feast. This was a feast. 

My reactions only spurred him on more, watching gleefully as my legs twitched and toes curled at the sensation. He watched as my eyes rolled back lazily and my hips swayed against his palm. I could feel my eyebrows pull together in a frown, desperately fighting against the feelings he was giving me. 

His tongue curled upwards and my body spasmed. Sukuna chuckled and slammed his palm on my hip, pinning me to the floor to stop my writhing. “Desperate little bitch.” 

My eyes rolled back and I felt my hips jerk involuntarily forward, seeking pressure against my unsatisfied clit. My thighs squeezed together as I tried to drown out the pulsating that grew into a gnawing feeling of pain, wanting a release. 

“Ah, ah, ah.” Sukuna tutted, retracting his tongue and pulling away. “Did I say you could come yet?” 

Another whine came from my lips from the loss of contact. While I fell down from my built up high, so did my pride. Lazy lidded eyes met mine, hints of annoyance lingered behind them as he watched my paled face twitch, snapping back to reality. My hands slammed against the floor and I tried to scoot out of his hold; reality hitting me like a fucking truck. Sukuna followed closely as I scampered backwards, making quick work to grab onto my ankle and tug me back in place. 

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished here.” He growled down at my shivering form, legs turning to mush from a single glare. He enjoyed watching me try to retreat away, but also felt a pinch of annoyance at the back of his head. I watched as his eyes squinted and he smirked, an expression that could only be described as terrifying in this moment. I returned with a look of pure fear as I stared into the eyes of the beast. 

“Please! Don’t! I can’t do this any-” I cried when Sukuna flipped me onto my stomach, my chin knocking against the ground before I could finish my sentence. 

“You’re right. I’m getting bored of this.” Before I had a chance to crawl away again, his hands were pulling at my hips, angling me so that my ass was perched up and pressed into his groin. He must’ve guessed my next moves because his hand moved to hold my back down, keeping my chest pinned to the floor. 

A puff of strangled air left my mouth and I craned my head to look back at him, my eyes pleading for any sense of mercy hidden within him. I felt regret seep into my nerves as I watched Sukuna lick his lips at the sight of my ass, which was on full display for him. His hand pressed harder against my clammy skin, his gaze finally reaching my own. 

“Don’t panic, I’m not fucking that hole.” He traced soft patterns against the globe of my ass. “Not today, anyways.” He chuckled, pleased with himself as he shuffled around with Yuji’s shorts. My throat tightened when his cock sprung free, large and thick, dripping with precum at the tip. 

I bit down hard on my lip and tried to scurry forwards, my blunt nails digging into anything that I could catch. “No. You can’t. You’ll rip me apart-” Sukuna let out a groan of annoyance and pulled me back down. His fingers raked through my hair and tugged it back, guiding my head back towards his direction. 

“I’m going to fuck you whether you want it or not. Fighting back will only hurt you worse.” He grunted, his hand moving back and forth down his shaft, smearing his precum all over until it glistened. He positioned himself at my entrance, slowly guiding himself inch by inch inside of me. My jaw slacked open and my eyes squeezed shut at the burning sensation that shot up my entire stomach. 

“Sukuna, please. Get off.” My hands tried to pry his out of my hair. “It hurts.” 

He said nothing when he slammed himself completely inside me, his nails digging painfully into my skin. I had not been prepared nor adjusted for his size, so when his cock was fully seated inside me, I screamed. The searing pain erupted and traveled up to my throat, making me feel like I was going to throw up. 

“Fuck.” Was all Sukuna could say, still frozen still. He felt like he was being suffocated by the tightness of my cunt, which clenched tighter when I screamed. His eyes closed for a moment, savoring the terrified expression on my face. “You’re so tight.” His hips moved slowly, dragging himself out before slamming back in. 

I screamed again, back bowing down to the ground and clawing harder at his hand. “Too much! I can’t-” Sukuna dragged my head up and slammed it down onto the ground, silencing me immediately. 

“Shut up. I could care less if it hurts. I’ve satisfied you enough.” He spoke low and with no regard for my well being. 

Sukuna’s hips began to move at a steady pace, while the pain of his cock buried inside me still lingered, it was overshadowed by the throbbing at my temple. My vision was spotty and I felt myself swaying, struggling to remain in this position. Sukuna must have noticed this because he let go of my hair and grabbed my hips, whether it was to steady me or to get better leverage, I didn’t know. 

With my slumped form pressed tightly against his groin, it became easier for Sukuna to plow into my cunt, which clenched tightly as a last resort to fight off the intrusion. This only seemed to please him further and he let out a dark laugh, relishing in the feeling. 

With my arms pinned awkwardly beneath my body, I had very little range of motion, which only made it easier for Sukuna. His hips snapped against my ass, filling me up to the brim as his cock slammed into my cervix. My mouth hung open in a silent scream, eyes wide but only able to see dark patches. 

I managed to tilt my head towards him, noticing that he kept his gaze on his cock stuffing me full. My breathing was sporadic, unable to get air in without hiccuping and sobbing. The dark spots in my vision only grew bigger and my head swayed. 

“I’m gonna pa-” 

Sukuna slowed his pace, but it wasn’t for my own mercy. “Tch. Stay conscious. I’m not going to fuck a corpse.” 

My teeth gritted at his words, but his slowed pace allowed me to control my breathing.  

“I’m going to kill you.” I mumbled, eyes watering with fresh tears, clumping my thick lashes together. 

Another booming laugh filled the room again, and this time Sukuna paused. “Oh yeah? The big bad sorcerer acting all tough now?” I was yanked upwards, my back slammed against his chest as he leered down to my ear. With this new angle, his cock reached a whole new depth inside me. My teeth caught my bottom lip, not wanting to let out a sound. 

Sukuna trailed his hands along my waist before squeezing my clammy skin. “You’ve got more balls than that brat.” He whispered, his breath hitting the shell of my ear. “Want to know what he’s doing right now?” He asked, which seemed more rhetorical than anything, his tone hinting at something much more sinister than I expected. 

“What are you talking about?” I hissed back, jerking my head away from the heat of his mouth. 

His hand wrapped around my throat, not enough to cut off air but enough for me to shift back closer to him. “Ah,” his hips jerked upwards, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. “He’s watching.” Sukuna taunted, making sure that I was balanced on top of him before reaching round and grabbing my tit. “Jerking himself like a fucking pubesent child.” 

A wave of nausea hit me in my throat, his words cutting deep. Was this true? Was Yuji enjoying this…? How much could he see? Sukuna tweaked my nipple hard, marveling in the pliable flesh between his fingers. 

“Let’s give him a good show, yeah?” He chuckled, flipping me round so that my legs were on either side of his waist and I was now facing him directly. I straddled him awkwardly, perched upon his legs. My hands flew up to his shoulders so that I wouldn’t fall backwards. Something told me that he wouldn’t care if I fell and slammed my head into the ground again. 

“Don’t say that.” I snarled, glaring up at him while he watched me with half-lidded eyes, too concentrated on the feeling of my walls squeezing around him. “You’re repulsive.” 

“Don’t be all coy with me now. I don’t mind sharing my playthings.” He sneered, his hips snapping upwards while I was caught off guard. My head snapped back and I gasped, feeling the pleasure as he hit a spot hidden deep within me. “That’s it. Let the brat hear you scream for me.” He hit that same spot that made me see stars, my eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. 

I lost control of my emotions, and now was beginning to lose control of my own body. My nerves sent off waves of pleasure as my cunt milked him, clenching tightly every time he buried himself inside me. 

 This was wrong. So so wrong.   

Over and over, Sukuna hit that spongy spot. I could hear just how wet I was everytime Sukuna thrusted his hips. So much so that it gathered at the base of his cock and seeped onto his thighs, making him grin ear to ear. “What a good little sorcerer.” He cooed, edging me on. “Look at you now.” A dribble of drool slid down my chin, soft moans coming from the back of my throat. 

“Ah- there!” I squealed, my nails surely breaking skin and drawing blood, but Sukuna didn’t seem to mind. He was enjoying seeing me like this. As much as he loved hearing me scream and beg for mercy - this, this was something else. Seeing my will break and take his cock like this drove him mad. Seeing my eyes roll back and pouty lips open wide for him made him want to stuff it. 

Sukuna’s hand quickly covered my opened mouth, his mouth returning on his palm to shove his tongue deep into my throat. “Hmmph!” I gagged slightly, not expecting the sudden intrusion. 

“Don’t bite me.” He warned, keeping his pace as he glared down at me. 

His tongue swirled around my mouth, invading my senses and driving me even closer to the edge. With his palm flat against my mouth and tongue shoving against my own, it was harder to breathe. My breaths come in short sporadic gasps and mewls. Excess saliva spilled out of my mouth and coated his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Swallow it all and I’ll let you come.” He ordered. “I’m feeling generous.” I eagerly swallowed every last bit of his spit, knowing that I was close to coming any second now. 

“What a desperate little slut.” His eyes narrowed down on my frame, watching my tits bounce at his quickened pace. 

I moaned against his tongue when I came, squeezing his cock harder than ever. My eyes were wide open but I could barely see a thing, only focused on the feeling on release. “Fuck, you’re gonna push me out.” Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth as he realized that he was about to come too.

“N-not inside…” I moaned, slowly coming back down from my high. 

Sukuna must’ve heard me but chose to ignore me, because his hands moved back to my waist and he pushed me down on his twitching cock, making sure that I couldn’t jump off. He let out a deep moan as he filled me up, heating me up from the inside out. 

I squeaked at the feeling, trying to pull away. “No!” 

His cock was still buried deep inside me while his come leaked out of my overstimulated cunt, the aftershocks of my orgasm clenching around him. He shuddered before releasing my hips, allowing me to skitter off and away from him. The feeling of his come inside me made my body convulse, my body trying to squeeze it all out. I watched as it dripped onto the floorboards and slid between my asscheeks. 

Sukuna sighed, his head raising up to meet my petrified gaze. His chest rose and fell quickly as he watched me. “I’ll see you again, Y/N.”  

[whimsywilde]

Astarion's Mirror

I couldn't get this out of my head after seeing the idea mentioned somewhere. (A TikTok comment maybe?) I haven't written fanfic since DAI. How am I back at this again? I'm not 100% satisfied with it but if I fiddle too much, I'll lose interest and it will disappear in the WIP folder. lol Enjoy!

Thank you Larian Studios and Neil Newbon for this incredible, beautiful, heartbreaking character!

Recommened Listening: THE FEELS by Labrinth

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

“Astarion…” she paused, hesitating, uncertain if the thought that had just danced across her mind would actually work. Sometimes she forgot he was a vampire. His lack of burning up in the sun tended to put his condition out of her mind. The mirror in his hand, however, had brought it back in stark relief. But… what if?

“As adorable as you are when thinking, I can’t help but feel there was more you wanted to say than just my name.” He smirked at her.

She resisted the urge to fall back into their playful banter. “What if you could see yourself… I mean, sort of.”

“What?” It was more of a whispered plea than a question. “How?”

“I’m not sure if it will work. But, the parasites… they’ve let us see into one another's minds before. It makes sense that we could see more.”

She hadn’t really been looking at him while she spoke, her eyes focused on some invisible point in the distance. Turning her attention more directly to him, his expression caught her off guard. She’d never seen him so vulnerable.

“We don’t have to. I’m not even completely sure it would work. I’ve never really tried to use it before. I just thought….”

“Would you try?” He interrupted, his voice still unnaturally hesitant, absent of the bravado she was used to. “Please.” It was almost an afterthought but may have been the most sincere she’d ever heard him.

She smiled tightly, worried now she’d be unable to connect that way, before closing her eyes and reaching for that alien presence within her mind. She hated the feeling of the cold shiver in her skull as she consciously connected to it and then, taking a breath, eyes tightly shut, reached out to where she felt she’d find Astarion. 

At first the connection was light, barely perceptible, like cobwebs in the breeze. After focusing on it for a few seconds, reaching out to it with uncertain hands, it seemed to expand. With her eyes still tightly closed, it was the tide of emotions slowly rolling up in the shore of her mind that hit her first. The anticipation, hopeful expectation, fear and worry. She resisted the urge to retreat from the intensity of his feelings and the jumbled, wordless thoughts that came with them and, again, focused past them. After several seconds, she was surprised to suddenly find herself looking through Astarion’s eyes at herself. She stilled to allow the image of herself solidify in her mind. 

Her eyes opened slowly. She allowed her gaze to linger near Astarion’s feet as gained confidence in the connection. The impatience he was feeling rushed to greet her through the bond.

“Look at me.” It was something between a command and a plea.

She opened her mind to him as completely as she could, wanting him to know that she had no motivations behind her actions and lingering gaze other than to allow him to see himself clearly, to be a mirror. She took a deep breath, centered herself and began to slowly lift her eyes up his body. Her gaze was gentle and curious, more that of an artist studying their work, rather than the lusty intensity of a lover. She followed the narrow slope of his hips up his chest and across his shoulders, her eyes lingering for mere moments before moving on. As she reached his neck, there was a brief glance to the scars that had made him the creature he was, before following his perfectly coiffed hair around his face. 

Part of her still wanted to tease him, to play. They’d been having fun, taken next to nothing seriously while they traveled and fought together. Even when she allowed him to drink from her, always standing since him hovering over her had felt too intimate, she typically pushed him away afterward with a joke on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. It was easy and had been so natural to keep him just close enough without letting him in. The intensity of his feelings pouring into her now was more than she bargained for and she had a moment of regret for offering to even try. She didn’t want to feel so much. It left her vulnerable. Opened her up to much more than she wanted to be aware of. Her eyes had frozen at the base of his throat. Why couldn’t she bring herself to look up? She didn’t like the answers her heart was trying to give. His fingers curled lightly under her chin, lifting her face upward, pulled her attention back. 

Her eyes snapped up to his suddenly and he gasped. The light from the campfire flickered and flashed across brilliant crimson. My eyes. Those are my eyes. His thoughts came through their link in sharp clarity. Her attention refocused on allowing him to see his face after so long in the dark and allowed the intensity of what he was feeling to drown out her own heart. She didn’t need to exist for this moment. She was giving this gift and she allowed herself to fall back within to the place of an observer. With her surrender, it allowed him to direct her eyes across his features. He took himself in fully and they stood in hushed stillness, eyes and minds locked together. 

With their minds so fully blended, she almost didn’t notice her hand absentmindedly reaching out to rest lightly on the side of his face. He didn’t pull away. She used her thumb to pull gently at his bottom lip, exposing his fangs to her gaze. 

They passed several seconds that way before her hand dropped, her vision swirling and darkening. She felt her body sway heavily and would have fallen if Astarion hadn’t caught her. Her head was pounding while her stomach churned. She sent up a silent prayer, to whatever god may be listening, that she wouldn’t vomit.

Astarion supported her body against his gently. When she tried to push away from him, he lifted her carefully and carried her to her tent, laying her down on her bedroll. 

“You pushed yourself too far. You need to rest,” he scolded. She wanted to protest; to throw out some snarky remark in an attempt to catch him off guard so that they could go back to the superficial game they shared, but she couldn’t seem to measure out enough strength to respond. Sleep was quickly overtaking her. She was never sure if he’d actually turned to look at her before leaving the tent and whispered a strangled thank you or if it was just part of the fevered dreams of the night.

[multifandomthoughts]

Spy, Sniper and Medic with a southern reader

Author’s Note: big thanks to @deathsimage for help with some of these, as they are southern themselves and were able to give me a perspective on what it’s like in the south!

Spy

First of all, all three of the mercs absolutely adore your accent. They think it’s adorable and fits you very well. Spy might have a harder time deciphering some of the idioms or phrases you use than others, however.

Finds your stories of you playing in the dirt catching frogs adorable. However, the thought of him doing that makes him grimace and shudder. Too messy for him. When and if he trusts you enough, he’ll tell you about his own childhood, which will different, still entails shenanigans.

Can’t help but laugh every time you get mad, as your yelling becomes a jumbled mess to him. He shakes his head as you scream phrases like “What in tarnation, I damn near broke my neck!”

In response to you teaching him southern phrases, he teaches you some easy French phrases. You do your best to incorporate them into your vocabulary, and when Spy hears this, he melts internally.

Sniper

Is super enthusiastic about you being from the south and doing all sorts of outdoorsy things as a kid. It means that you wouldn’t be opposed to doing outdoorsy things like camping or catching fish with him.

Tells you about his own childhood, and it’s a bit similar to yours. You bond over shared experiences and memories. Sniper has definitely had a lot of experiences with Snakes, so hearing you wrangled them as a kid impresses him.

You and him have very similar accents so you exchange some idioms with him. You laugh at all the different silly phrases you learn from each other.

You imitate each others accents every so often, bursting into laughter when it sounds particularly accurate. It’s all in good fun and you always make sure that it’s seen as such.

Medic

Is immediately interested in how much time you spent outside as a kid, and wants to do experiments determining if it had any impact on your immunity.

Wrong pronunciation? Wrong pronunciation. He feels comfortable around you because some of the words you say sound different due to your accent, and he’s aware that his accent can do the same.

He also thinks it’s adorable that when you get mad that your accent comes out, just like his does. You giggle at him when this happens, and he does the same for you.

For funsies, he teaches you German words that do not have any direct translation into English, like Backpfeifengesicht (face that begs to be slapped) or Dreikäsehoch (three cheeses high, measurement) so that you two can exchange insults towards the others without being caught.

[mononijikayu]

lonely in gorgeous – ryomen sukuna.

In that small moment, you allowed yourself to indulge in a bit of nostalgia, thinking about the paths you both had taken. You hoped he was happy and successful, thriving in the world he had always been so passionate about. And though you doubted you would ever hear from him again, you couldn't help but wonder if he ever thought about you, if he ever missed the days when you were his muse, and he was your world.

GENRE: alternate universe - fashion au!

WARNING/S: alternate universe - canon convergence, modern au, fashion au!, rated 18 and above, age gap (reader is in 20s and sukuna is in his 30s), explicit content, smut, p to v sex, flirting, romance, humor, strangers to lovers, lovers to strangers, break up, time skip (ten years later);

LISTEN: lonely in gorgeous by tommy february6

NOTE: this is probably my second favorite so far. because i keep thinking of hiromi and sukuna throughout but modern au??? i loved this a lot because its based on paradise kiss, which i think is one of the stories i loved in a long time. it makes me wanna rewatch paradise kiss. i'm very happy with this one. i hope you enjoy it as much as i do <3333

masterlist

kayu's playlist — side 700;

IT STARTED OUT IN A WAY YOU DIDN’T EXPECT. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting long shadows across the grassy expanse of the park. You sat on the bench, surrounded by the cacophony of rustling leaves and distant chatter, the weight of your textbooks heavy on your lap. Each page seemed to blur together, the words melding into an incomprehensible jumble as exhaustion gnawed at the edges of your mind.

As you stared at the pages before you, the thought of continuing down this path weighed heavily on your shoulders. This degree, chosen by your mother, felt more like a burden than a choice. It was her dream, her unfinished journey that you were expected to fulfill. Yet, with each passing day, the realization grew stronger within you that it wasn't your dream at all. It was a legacy you were expected to carry, a path laid out for you by someone else's ambitions.

The thought left you feeling adrift, caught between the expectations of others and the yearning for something more. The park, with its tranquil beauty, offered a brief respite from the chaos of your thoughts. Here, amidst the gentle sway of the trees and the soft rustle of leaves, you found a fleeting sense of peace, a momentary escape from the pressures of academia and familial expectations.

The figure at the nearby table commanded attention, his presence as enigmatic as it was compelling. Ryomen Sukuna, renowned fashion designer, his reputation preceded him like a shadow cast by the setting sun. His tall, imposing frame was a stark contrast to the tranquil surroundings of the park, yet there was an undeniable magnetism to his presence.

As he sat hunched over his sketchbook, his expression was one of intense concentration, his fingers moving deftly across the page in a frenzied dance. The lines he etched upon the paper seemed to materialize effortlessly, each stroke a testament to his skill and creativity. But beneath the surface, there was a simmering frustration, a sense of discontent that lingered like a shadow in the corners of his mind.

For Sukuna, the park had become an unlikely refuge, a sanctuary of sorts where he could retreat from the relentless demands of his craft. Here, amidst the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of city life, he sought solace in the simplicity of nature, hoping to unearth the spark of inspiration that had eluded him for so long.

Intrigued by the sight of you, Ryomen Sukuna couldn't tear his gaze away. The exhaustion etched into your features, mingled with an unmistakable determination, spoke volumes to him, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. With a sense of curiosity piqued by the contrast of your presence against the backdrop of the park, he found himself compelled to approach you.

With confident strides, he closed the distance between you, his sketchpad clutched in one hand as though it were a precious treasure. There was a magnetic pull in his demeanor, an air of authority and intrigue that seemed to precede him like a gentle breeze, stirring the stillness of the evening air.

As he neared, his gaze never wavered from you, his eyes scanning your form with a keen sense of observation. It was as though he were studying a masterpiece, seeking to unravel the secrets hidden within the intricate tapestry of your being. And when he finally reached your side, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a tension that crackled between you like electricity waiting to ignite.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a mix of curiosity and determination. You looked up, startled by the sudden interruption. “Would you like to model for me?”

Confused, you furrowed your brows. “Model? I’m not a model. I’m just a student.”

Sukuna’s eyes glinted with a hint of amusement. “Doesn’t matter. I want you to be my model.”

You stared at him, still trying to process the odd request. “But… Why me?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t know yet. But there’s something about you. I can’t explain it. Just think about it.”

Your mind buzzed with confusion as you watched Ryomen Sukuna retreat, leaving you to grapple with the unexpected encounter. His enigmatic demeanor left you feeling both intrigued and bewildered, as though you had stumbled into a world of mysteries waiting to be unraveled.

His simple yet cryptic words lingered in the air, echoing in your mind like an elusive melody. "There's something about you," he had said, a statement that sparked a flurry of questions within you. What did he see in you that prompted such a request? What hidden depths did he perceive beneath the surface of your tired facade?

As you held his business card in your hand, its sleek surface cool against your skin, you couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity stirring within you. What harm could come from entertaining the idea, if only for a moment? With a sense of hesitancy tinged with intrigue, you tucked the card into your pocket, a silent promise to explore the mysterious invitation further.

The sun hung low in the sky as you made your way back to the park, the familiar sight of Ryomen Sukuna sketching under the shade of a tree drawing you closer. With each step, your heart quickened, a mixture of apprehension and excitement swirling within you.

As you approached him, Sukuna glanced up from his sketchpad, a small smile gracing his lips. "Back again, I see," he remarked, his voice smooth and confident.

You nodded, unable to suppress the curiosity that burned within you. "I couldn't stay away," you admitted, your tone tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

Sukuna's gaze softened, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I thought as much," he replied, his attention returning to his sketch. "Have you given any more thought to my offer?"

You hesitated, the memory of his cryptic request still fresh in your mind. "I'm not sure I understand what you see in me," you confessed, your voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and self-doubt.

Sukuna looked up, his gaze meeting yours with a piercing intensity. "Sometimes, it's not about understanding," he replied cryptically. "It's about embracing the unknown. You won’t be able to live a life like this without embracing what makes life so hard, you know.”

“Why do you keep asking me?” you demanded of him. “I’m just a burnt out college student. What do I have to offer?”

Sukuna looked up from his sketchpad, his expression serious. “Because you’re my muse.”

The words hung in the air, and you felt a strange thrill at the idea. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself agreeing to his request. 

"I suppose……I could give it a try." you finally conceded, a hint of uncertainty still lingering in your voice. “What do I have to lose at this point?”

Sukuna's smile widened, a spark of satisfaction flickering in his eyes. "Excellent." he replied, a note of excitement creeping into his tone. "Trust me, you won't regret it."

“I hope not.”

“Little muse, you should pose on the other side.” He says to you. “I need to get your hair right for this one.”

You nodded at him. You  couldn’t help but ponder at his words for a moment, the weight of their meaning sinking in. He called you his muse. He needed you as his muse. You didn’t know why you agreed, but you knew you really had nothing to lose. And this gives you something to do, other than being miserable about your college life. 

There was something about Sukuna, you  couldn’t point it out even if you tried. But you knew that there was an air of mystery surrounding Sukuna that both intrigued and unnerved you. But despite your reservations, you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. 

Because it was quite easy to see for you.

You think he was about to change your life.

And little did you know, you were right.

The following weeks were quite a hurricane storm. You were quite the spectator to Sukuna’s creativity. Everything about how he worked was something you had never seen before. He was always so full of passion, everything about it was electric. His energy was infectious, and you found yourself caught up in his world. 

You posed for him in various outfits he made each and every week, each one more daring and unconventional than the last. Despite his notorious reputation, Sukuna was surprisingly patient with you. He encouraged you, challenged you, and celebrated your progress. 

At first, it was hard adjusting to it all. You didn’t know if you actually had it in you to pull these clothes off. But he kept talking to you about each and every story the dress made and more and more, each piece of clothing he made for you to try and model in was clothes that slowly became your friend.

He pushed you out of your comfort zone, and you discovered slowly but surely, you came to realize that there was passion in you too, as much as there was the bounty of potential and confidence that was just waiting to be nurtured and waiting to blossom. 

The connection between you two grew stronger, and you began to understand why he had chosen you. Your exhaustion and determination, your raw, unpolished presence, was exactly what he needed to reignite his creativity. One evening, after a particularly intense session, you found yourself sitting beside him over glasses of wine, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. 

As you sat beside Sukuna, watching him sketch with newfound clarity, you couldn't help but feel a sense of validation wash over you. You watch him pour another glass on your glass and then his.

"I think I'm starting to get it," you admitted, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

Sukuna glanced up from his sketchpad, a pleased smile gracing his lips. "Told you, little muse." he replied, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "There's something about you that's just... captivating."

“Oh don’t flatter me that way.”

His words echoed in the dimly lit room, punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the soft hum of conversation. Sukuna's eyes held a glimmer of sincerity as he spoke, his grin genuine as he savored the moment.

"You've brought something back to life in me," he repeated, his voice carrying a weight of truth. It was a confession, raw and unguarded, revealing a vulnerability that belied his usual stoic demeanor. “I’m thankful.”

As you watched him, a warmth spread through your chest, your heart swelling with a mixture of pride and affection. To know that you had played a part in rekindling Sukuna's passion, in breathing life into his creativity, filled you with a sense of purpose unlike anything you had ever felt before.

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I'm glad I could help," you said, sincerity lacing your tone. "And who knows, maybe this could be the start of something great."

Sukuna's gaze softened, a glimmer of gratitude shining in his eyes. "I have a feeling it will be," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Well, it already is, if I’m being honest.”

“Why me, really?” you asked softly as you take in the image of him. “Why did you choose me?”

Sukuna turned to you, his eyes reflecting the lights of the city. “Because you’re real. You’re not polished or perfect, and that’s what makes you beautiful. You remind me that inspiration can come from the most unexpected places.”

His words touched you deeply, and you realized that this experience had changed you. You were no longer just a burnt-out college student. You had become a muse, a source of inspiration, and in turn, you had found your own spark of creativity and passion. You were his muse, you were the essence of his wonder.  As you looked at Sukuna, you could see he was looking at you.

In that moment, as Sukuna's gaze met yours, you felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you. It was as if the air between you crackled with an unspoken understanding, a shared connection that transcended words.

Without a word, Sukuna reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he leaned in closer. The warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing second.

And then, his lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with unspoken promises, a silent vow to cherish each other and the bond you shared. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, the world around you fading into the background.

As you pulled away, breathless and flushed, you locked eyes with Sukuna once more, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. In that simple gesture, you both knew that this was just the beginning of something extraordinary, a journey filled with endless possibilities and boundless love.

"Wow," you whispered, your heart racing as you gazed into Sukuna's eyes. "I never knew..."

Sukuna's smirk was tinged with affection as he brushed his thumb lightly over your cheek. "You never knew what, my dear muse?"

"That you could make me feel this way," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "That you could make me feel... alive."

Sukuna's expression softened, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings for you. "You've brought out something in me that I thought was lost forever," he confessed. "And for that, I'll always be grateful, little muse.”

You could feel yourself echo in the shade of scarlet as you leaned in to press another gentle kiss to his lips, savoring the warmth and intimacy of the moment. He kissed you back, his hands encroaching against your jaw as he pulled you closer to him. In Sukuna's embrace, you felt a sense of belonging, a sense of completeness that you had never experienced before.

As you pulled away, a smile graced Sukuna's lips, his gaze filled with warmth and adoration. "Shall we continue to inspire each other, my dear muse?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. 

With a nod and a smile, you intertwined your fingers with his, knowing that together, you were destined to create something truly extraordinary.

When you look at him, the city lights seem dull.

Ryomen Sukuna was brighter than everything else.

And you fell in love with everything in him more.

IT WAS ALL AN INTENSE WHIRLWIND. At every turn, Sukuna flaunted your presence, introducing you to his acquaintances and peers as his muse, the source of his inspiration. Your relationship with him flourished amidst the glamorous backdrop of high-profile parties and events, where you were the center of attention, admired for your natural allure and captivating presence.

In the eyes of Sukuna, you were not just a model or a companion; you were the embodiment of his artistic vision, the muse who breathed life into his designs and fueled his creativity. Together, you navigated the intricacies of the fashion world, of his world as you basked in the spotlight and forging a bond that transcended mere admiration.

As your connection with Sukuna deepened, the lines between your worlds began to blur. He used his extensive network to secure opportunities for you, arranging magazine features where you modeled the clothes he had painstakingly crafted. With each photoshoot and editorial spread, you became the living embodiment of his artistic vision, seamlessly blending into the world he had created.

As your career flourished under his guidance, you found yourself spending more and more time in Sukuna's presence. He became not just your mentor, but your confidant and companion, guiding you through the intricacies of the fashion industry with unwavering support and encouragement.

With Sukuna's help, you acquired your own manager and began to take on more jobs, each one bringing you further into the spotlight. You reveled in the attention, basking in the glow of success that seemed to follow wherever you went.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the lines between both of your lives blurred almost imperceptibly. What began as occasional visits to his apartment soon transformed into a routine, with more nights spent in his space than in your own college dorm.

His apartment became a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you could escape the pressures and expectations of the outside world and simply be yourself. The familiar surroundings, infused with Sukuna's presence, offered a sense of comfort and security that you found nowhere else.

In Sukuna's world, time seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor each moment spent together. Whether it was cooking dinner together in the cozy kitchen, lounging on the couch as you watched movies late into the night, or simply sharing quiet conversations in the dim glow of lamplight, every experience felt like a precious gift.

And as you became more deeply entwined in Sukuna's life, you found yourself embracing aspects of his world that were once foreign to you. You attended glamorous parties and events by his side, proudly adorned with everything he made to fit only you. You enjoyed standing beside him as he spoke to other fashion connoisseurs, while you ended up mingling with fashion elites and modeling industry insiders who passed around their business cards to you one after the other.

But amidst the glitz and glamor, there were moments of vulnerability and intimacy that bound you together even more tightly. You realized that not everyone saw this part of the world Ryomen Sukuna orbited. You enjoyed his company, you enjoyed watching him pick apart fabrics all day. 

You’ve seen him be frustrated with his work each and every day. You’ve seen him rush to you with delight when he thinks that it’s perfect enough for you to wear. In that whole two years,  you found yourself sharing your hopes and dreams, your fears and insecurities, laying bare your soul in a way you never thought possible.

In the midst of the glamor and passion, there were also moments of turmoil and discord that tested the strength of your relationship. Arguments erupted over trivial matters, escalating into heated exchanges that left you both feeling wounded and raw. Tears were shed, words were spoken in anger, and the once serene sanctuary of Sukuna's apartment became a battleground for your conflicting emotions.

At times, it felt as though your lover was a tempestuous storm, his moods shifting unpredictably from blazing intensity to icy detachment. His affectionate gestures were often overshadowed by moments of aloofness, leaving you feeling bewildered and uncertain of where you stood in his heart.

But Sukuna was a complicated man, and his feelings for you were just as complex. He could be warm and affectionate one moment, then distant and cold the next. His hot-and-cold behavior left you confused and exasperated. There were times he seemed to take pleasure in toying with your emotions, pushing your boundaries, and testing your naivete.

In the midst of these turbulent emotions, Sukuna's behavior sometimes bordered on manipulative. He had a knack for using subtle tactics to exert control over you, whether it was through guilt-tripping, emotional manipulation, or even resorting to underhanded methods like calling your friends to inquire about your whereabouts without your knowledge.

These manipulative tendencies only added to the strain on your relationship, fostering a sense of distrust and resentment that simmered beneath the surface. Despite your love for Sukuna, there were moments when you questioned whether the tumultuous nature of your connection was worth the emotional toll it took on you.

Yet, even in the midst of the storm, there were moments of tenderness and vulnerability that reminded you why you fell in love with Sukuna in the first place. In the quiet moments of reconciliation, when apologies were whispered and forgiveness granted, you found solace in the depths of your shared connection, clinging to the hope that love would ultimately prevail over the trials and tribulations that threatened to tear you apart.

Leaving behind the familiarity of your college dorms for the sanctuary of Sukuna's apartment marked a significant turning point in your life. Graduation loomed on the horizon, a milestone that signified the culmination of years of hard work and dedication. Yet, amidst the celebrations and anticipation of what lay ahead, it was the quiet moments spent in Sukuna's arms that held the greatest allure.

With each passing day, your bond with Sukuna deepened, weaving itself into the very fabric of your existence. His apartment, once a temporary escape from the demands of college life, had now become your sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of the outside world. Within its walls, you found solace and strength, a sense of belonging that transcended words.

The allure of Sukuna's presence was undeniable, you needed him. You knew there was no one else. You wanted him, all his ugly and dirty. In all his magnetic charm drawing you ever closer with each passing moment. In his arms, you found respite from the uncertainties and anxieties that plagued your mind, basking in the warmth of his affection and the reassurance of his love. You burned for him, as you always do. 

Ryomen Sukuna could only smirk as you clenched around him. He was trying to be careful with you, it was your first time after all. He could see the way your face scrunched as he kissed you all over, trying to distract you from the pain. He lets himself coo at you as he gives your forehead a small kiss.

"There, there," he cooed softly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Just relax, sweetheart. I'll take care of you."

His words were like a balm to your nerves, calming you as you adjusted to the sensation. You nodded, allowing yourself to relax into his touch as the initial discomfort began to fade.

"I trust you.” you whispered, meeting his gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and affection.

“I know you do, baby.”

His harsh thrusts could only really make your head spin. You held tight to him, moaning against his shoulder, tears falling from your face. His throat let out low growls one after another as he pushes through the depths of you with each and every bottoming down into you. He feels like he is molding into you, as much as he’s molding you into him.

“Yer so good f’r me, aren’t you?” He groans against you, his body enveloping all around you, the sweat of you melting against his skin. “Go ‘n baby, keep making those sounds f’r me.”

You could feel overwhelmed as he changed your position, your belly resting on the bed, his cock still inside you. You felt your body rattle as much as the bed did as l his huge cock effortlessly bullies deep into your hole with vigorous excitement. You could not stop feeling your insides be like they’re on fire. You could feel yourself squeeze around him tightly. 

His strong calloused hands wander below your chest, holding onto you the way he does with his fabrics — a sense of desire for the things that are beautiful. Soon enough, you could feel them strongly encroach against the will of your hips, fingers leaving imprints as they pressed hard against your skin. You could only  squirm under his intense gaze. 

You couldn’t even focus anymore as drool fell from your lips. You cry as you shake and shake against his touch. His rough kisses hurt, but you didn’t care. You let him paint his lips all over your body, those brutally vain beauty of lips touching every sensitive part of you. He grins as he watches you lose all sense. He watches you apart from him.

“My little muse, uh, y’r so good f’r me, aren’t you?” He says against your ear, letting out a moan. “I’ll make a good dress f’r you, a sequenced one? No, no, it’s going to be the same color of your skin. I’ll feast on it. I’m pretty sure. But I’m the only one who gets to see it. I’m the only one that gets to see you that way.”

“Y–yeah,” You mewl against him, lost in everything but pleasure. ‘’kuna, I’m feeling something, it’s tooooooo good.”

“I know, baby. I can feel you, hm? I can feel you tightening up f’r me.” He leans forward, his body pressed against the small of your back. He thrusts, causing you to moan harshly. “Y’r about to come, hm? Give it to me, hm? Be my good little muse.”

Sukuna grabbed you by the hair, pulling you towards him with a fierce intensity. His lips crashed into yours, a passionate kiss that left you breathless as he pressed your bodies tightly together. You moaned into the kiss, your voice vibrating against his mouth as Sukuna trailed his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of bites and marks in his wake.

He pushed more into you as his head rested on the side of your neck with a predatory grace. His hips ground against yours, eliciting a gasp from your lips. The room filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing,tears pouring more and more as both of you closed the gates to pleasure

Sukuna's movements quickened, driven by a surge of pleasure and desire.. His mouth descended upon your collarbone, and neck — his free hand reaches breast, pinching it tightly as you cried. His tongue tracing patterns that sent shivers down your spine. You cried out, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming your senses as he marked you with his teeth.

The feeling of his warmth enveloping you was intoxicating, your eyes fluttering shut as you both lost yourselves in the sensation of being together. His thrusts grew harder and faster, each movement driving you both closer to the edge. You felt like your body was shutting down, with how cruelly deep he was getting into you.

Ryomen Sukuna  felt like he belonged inside of you. Here, in your arms, he was exactly where he wanted to be—lost in the embrace of someone he loved, sharing a connection that was raw, passionate, and undeniably real.

Your bodies moved together in a rhythm as old as time, each thrust bringing them closer to the peak of ecstasy. Sukuna's movements were swift as he moved you back on your back, arms pulling your legs upwards to him as he drilled his hips. 

You screamed in pleasure as you finally came, head pushing against the nook of the pillows.  But Sukuna was still waiting to get there. He kept pushing and pushing, as though he were driven by a primal need, a hunger that could only be sated by the touch of your skin, the sound of your voice, the taste of your lips.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as pleasure washed over you in waves. Every sensation was heightened, every touch electrifying as you surrendered yourself to the moment. The intensity of your connection was overwhelming, consuming you both in a fiery blaze of passion.

"I love you." you gasped, your voice strained with pleasure as Sukuna's movements quickened.

"I love you too," Sukuna whispered hoarsely, his breath hot against your ear. "More than anything in this world."

With each word, his thrusts grew more urgent, driving you both towards the edge of ecstasy. The air was thick with passion as you clung to each other, lost in a whirlwind of desire.

As the intensity reached its peak, you locked eyes, sharing a moment of perfect understanding. And in that moment, as you surrender yourself completely to each other, you knew that your love would endure, forever and always.

Nothing was coherent anymore, all you could see was the stars as everything  between you blurred until there was nothing left but the two of you. Nothing existed between the two of you but being lost in a world of pleasure and desire. Time seemed to stand still as you soared to new heights, your bodies intertwined in a dance of ecstasy.

And as you finally reached the pinnacle of your passion, Sukuna's name tumbled from your lips in a breathless cry, a testament to the depth of your desire for him. In that moment, you knew that nothing else mattered—only the two of you, bound together by an unbreakable bond that transcended time and space.

The realization that your love story with Sukuna had reached its final chapter weighed heavily on your heart as you sat across from him in the dimly lit restaurant. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows over the table, a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of love and life itself.

You couldn't bear to see Sukuna sacrifice his dreams for the sake of your relationship. As much as you longed to hold onto him, to keep him by your side, you knew deep down that it wasn't fair to ask him to give up his ambitions for you. His talent deserved to be showcased on a global stage, and you couldn't stand in the way of his success, no matter how much it pained you to let him go.

With a heavy heart, you realized that sometimes, even the most beautiful love stories must come to an end. It was a bittersweet truth that echoed in the depths of your soul, a reminder that life was filled with moments of joy and sorrow, of love and loss.

As you gazed into Sukuna's eyes, you knew that it was time to say goodbye. It was a decision born out of love, a selfless act of letting go for the sake of both your happiness. And though it tore you apart inside, you found solace in the knowledge that you were setting him free to chase his dreams, even if it meant facing the pain of being apart.

“When were you going to tell me that you got an offer from Paris?”

As Sukuna's gaze lingered on you, his eyes held a depth of emotion that was difficult to decipher. It was a stark contrast to the man you had come to know so intimately, whose every thought and feeling had once been an open book to you. But now, as you sat across from him, you found yourself unable to read the nuances of his expression.

Your boyfriend had always been someone whose walls had gradually come down over time, allowing you to glimpse the vulnerability and truth behind his stoic facade. Yet, on this matter, his demeanor remained inscrutable, his thoughts veiled behind a mask of contemplation.

It was a disconcerting realization, to be faced with the uncertainty of Sukuna's intentions and emotions, especially in a moment as pivotal as this. You longed to understand his inner turmoil, to find some semblance of clarity amidst the swirling emotions that threatened to engulf you both.

But as you watched him take a sip of his wine, the silence between you stretching taut with unspoken words, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you. Sukuna's unreadable expression left you feeling adrift, uncertain of where you stood in his heart and what the future held for your relationship.

"Why bring it up now?" he countered, his voice low and measured. "Would it have changed anything?"

You hesitated, grappling with the conflicting emotions swirling within you. On one hand, you understood Sukuna's desire to protect you from unnecessary worries and uncertainties. On the other hand, you couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

"I guess I just wish you had been more open with me," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've been through so much together, Sukuna. I thought we could share everything."

Sukuna's expression softened, a trace of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he murmured, reaching across the table to gently grasp your hand. "I didn't mean to keep it from you. I just... I wanted to figure things out first, before I said anything."

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his words. Despite the hurt and confusion that lingered between you, there was an underlying sense of understanding and acceptance that anchored you to each other.

"I know," you replied, offering him a small, sad tentative smile. "I just wish we could have talked about it sooner."

“I don’t plan on taking it.”

“Why not?” 

“I’m planning to stay here and be with you.” He admits to you. “I already have a name for myself here.”

“But you would make a bigger name for yourself, if you go out into the world.”

Sukuna's gaze softened as he reached across the table to cup your face gently in his hand. "I don't need a bigger name," he said earnestly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Not if it means being apart from you."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words, touched by his unwavering devotion. "But Sukuna, I don't want to hold you back from your dreams," you replied, your voice tinged with concern.

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. "You could never hold me back, baby.” he said softly. "Being with you is the greatest dream I could ever imagine."

"Are you sure?” You mumble at him. 

“I am. I wouldn’t say this to you if I wasn’t.”

“But what if you resent me?” You whisper to him. “What ended up deciding I ruined your life? I won’t do that to you.”

Sukuna's heart clenched at the sight of your distress, his own emotions swirling in turmoil. He watched as you bit your lower lip, a telltale sign of your efforts to hold back tears. In that moment, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him, knowing that his decision was causing you such pain.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted to hurt you."

You shook your head slightly, a silent acknowledgment of his apology. But the hurt in your eyes remained, a silent testament to the depth of your pain.

"It's okay," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be okay."

But Sukuna knew that the road ahead would be anything but easy for you. And as he reached out to gently wipe away a tear from your cheek, he silently vowed to do everything in his power to ease your pain, even if it meant walking away from the one person he loved more than anything in the world.

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "You’re letting me go, aren’t you?”

“I can’t join you in Paris.” You mumble to him as you purse your lips at him. “You know that.”

“That’s why I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you.”

“But at the cost of your dreams? Sukuna, this is not good for you.”

“I know what’s good for me, and it's you.” His intense gaze burned you. “I’m not leaving you. Baby, I’m nothing without you. I can’t just leave you—”

Your eyes shone with bitter tears pouring down. “I can’t let you leave your dreams because of me. Not when you told me to follow my dreams no matter what.”

“But its not going to hinder me.”

“Those are easy words to say.” You whisper to him. “But one day, I know you’ll look at me and you’ll wake up and not feel happy anymore.”

“I love you.” 

As Sukuna's words sank in, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness in your chest. You knew deep down that he was right—that staying together might ultimately lead to resentment and regret. But the thought of being apart from him was almost unbearable.

"I love you too, more than anything." you murmured, squeezing his hand gently. "But maybe...maybe it's time for us to part ways."

Sukuna's expression mirrored your own conflicted emotions, his gaze soft yet troubled. “We don’t have to do this.”

“It’s not going to make us happy.”

“But we’d be together.”

“But that’s not fair.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, weighted with the sorrow of an impending farewell. Sukuna's heart ached at the thought of letting you go, the idea of a life without you seeming almost unbearable. He longed to hold onto you, to defy the inevitable and cling to the love you shared.

"We don't have to do this," he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand tightened around yours, as if seeking reassurance in the warmth of your touch. "We can find a way to make it work. We can fight for us."

Your heart clenched at his words, torn between the love you felt for Sukuna and the harsh reality of your situation. You knew that as much as you wanted to stay, to fight for your relationship, there were forces at play beyond your control.

With a trembling breath, you leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to Sukuna's lips, savoring the bittersweet taste of goodbye. It was a kiss filled with all the love and longing that had defined your relationship, a silent farewell to the life you had built together.

As you pulled away, tears glistened in your eyes, reflecting the pain of your decision. "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I love you, but I have to go."

With one last lingering look, you turned and walked away, each step a painful reminder of the love you were leaving behind. Sukuna watched you go, his heart heavy with sorrow, knowing that this was the right choice even as it tore him apart inside.

Leaving Sukuna's apartment that night was one of the hardest things you had ever done. As you gathered your belongings and made your way to the door, each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the gravity of your decision. It was a choice born out of love and sacrifice, a painful acknowledgment that staying by his side would only serve to hinder both of your paths forward.

In the days that followed, you found yourself grappling with a profound sense of loss and longing. The absence of Sukuna's presence in your life left a void that seemed impossible to fill, a gaping emptiness that echoed with the memories of your time together. Yet, despite the ache in your heart, you knew that staying away was the only way to truly move forward.

You avoided places where you knew Sukuna frequented, unwilling to risk the temptation of running into him and reopening old wounds. The thought of seeing him again filled you with a mixture of longing and fear, knowing that even the briefest encounter could reignite the flame of your feelings for him.

Deep down, you knew that if you allowed yourself to see him again, you would be drawn back into his orbit, unable to resist the pull of his magnetic presence. But you also knew that returning to him would only perpetuate the cycle of heartache and uncertainty that had plagued your relationship from the start.

And so, you made a conscious decision to stay away, to give yourself the space and time to heal. It was a choice driven by a desire for self-preservation, a recognition that true love sometimes means letting go, even when every fiber of your being longs to hold on.

Your manager told you when he was leaving.

You booked a shoot that same day, to keep busy.

Because you knew you would cry your eyes out.

You knew you’d go to the airport and see him off.

You didn’t want to break your hearts even more.

YOU THINK YOU’LL NEVER GET OVER HIM. Years later, you stood at the pinnacle of your career, having fulfilled your dream of becoming a successful model. Your name was well-known in the fashion world, and as you neared the age of retirement from modeling, you smoothly transitioned into acting, where you were already making a significant impact. 

Sukuna lingered in your thoughts like a haunting melody, an ever-present refrain that played in the background of your daily life. Despite the passage of time and the distance that now separated you, his presence continued to echo through the corridors of your mind, a constant reminder of the love you had shared and the dreams you had once dared to chase together.

In the quiet moments of solitude, his memory would surface like a ghost from the past, flooding your thoughts with bittersweet nostalgia. You would find yourself reminiscing about the moments you had shared, the laughter and tears, the whispered confessions and stolen kisses. Each memory was etched into the fabric of your being, an indelible mark that refused to fade with time.

Even amidst the hustle and bustle of your busy life, Sukuna's presence lingered like a shadow, casting a subtle but palpable weight upon your heart. His absence was a constant ache, a void that no amount of success or distraction could ever hope to fill. You would catch yourself reaching for your phone to text him, only to remember that he was no longer there to answer.

Each morning, you carefully selected an outfit from the collection of clothes Sukuna had designed for you. He left them to you to find in his apartment, one he also left you. He left the letter saying that he wants you to continue using it until the lease is up. That everything he had was always going to be for you — it was always going to be with the thought of you.

Each and everyday, you knew that there was always a happy feeling in you when you wore them. You still feel like you had a  connection with him through the fabric and cuts that had once been a part of his creative vision. His presence was woven into the very threads you wore, a constant reminder of the man who had once called you his muse. Somehow, you think, this was the only way that you could still love him — even when you both aren’t together anymore.

You often wondered where Sukuna was now, how he was thriving in the ever-evolving fashion world. Sometimes, when nostalgia struck, you would visit the store of his fashion house in Tokyo, browsing through the latest collections. Each piece you bought reminded you of him, a tangible connection to the past that you cherished dearly.

Despite your lingering feelings, you hadn't heard from Sukuna since he left for Paris. From what you heard from your mutual friends, he still keeps up to date with you. He buys your magazines, he watches your interviews, your shows. When you heard it, you could feel your heart break over and over. He still looks after you, from afar. 

You didn't expect him to call you now. That’s just not his style. Even back then when you were dating. But you think that he understands. You look at your ring, that butterfly ring that he made you. You purse your lips as you feel how it still fits after all this time. How it fits so much better than your engagement ring.

You didn’t know how it happened, but it just did. You don’t think that he’ll ever measure how Ryomen Sukuna shaped your life. How Sukuna had loved you. But you couldn’t expect anything less. But life had moved on, and so had you, or so you told yourself. You were getting married in a couple of months. To a man that has become a stability in your life for the longest of times.

Yet, there were moments when the memories would flood back—the nights spent at glamorous parties, the intimate conversations, and the way he had looked at you as if you were his entire world. The warmth in the way he said your name, the tenderness of his fingertips against your own. Those memories were bittersweet, a blend of happiness and longing that you carried with you.

In that small moment, you allowed yourself to indulge in a bit of nostalgia, thinking about the paths you both had taken. You hoped he was happy and successful, thriving in the world he had always been so passionate about. And though you doubted you would ever hear from him again, you couldn't help but wonder if he ever thought about you, if he ever missed the days when you were his muse, and he was your world.

You were going to see a show in the Paris Opera while you both were on your honeymoon in France. Your fiance procured them for you. He’d always known that you liked opera. But you’ve never said out loud how and why. Because you knew that if you told him that you cling to him because of your first great love, you knew it wouldn’t be fair to him.

Still, you were going to go enjoy the show. He told you it was a romantic drama with comedy in the middle. But you knew that you probably wouldn’t be able to focus on enjoying the show as well as you want to. After all, it would be hard. You would be looking at those familiar passionate stitches and threads, knowing they were specifically made by request of the Paris Opera by the one you had loved the most — Ryomen Sukuna.

You think that this was the only ending.

But perhaps if there would be another one,

In all the alternate universes, all the next lives;

You’d wish that you and Sukuna were happy.

You’d wish you both would end up together.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 7 - running from a crucifixion

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

"Look, to you I'm different- it's 'cause I refuse to listen to all the stupid shit that you include in your opinion. I got enough issues trying to be a human living in a ruined system while I'm running from a crucifixion." -Monster in Me by From Ashes to New

Masterlist Part 6

Jazz felt a shiver run down her spine. 

Currently in her office sorting through another pile of paperwork, the Regent hadn’t been bothered by any denzien for the past few hours thanks to the guard outside her door barring all but a select few. It’d been nice to demolish one of the piles that weighed down her desk.

She had a feeling that Danny was doing something stupid. Or reckless, but she was betting on stupid.  

Her little brother had finally healed enough to transform into Phantom to join her nightly patrols, a welcome addition to her mostly routine nights so far, and Jason’s proto-core was healing at a decent rate. Frostbite’s original timeline for him to wake up probably was on point, if he continued to adjust to the pure ecto in his system as he had been so far. It was good news for the Fentons, soon they would be able to move Jason back to his haunt. And Jazz could get her bed back. 

(She ignored the part of her that would miss his firm presence at her back, the jumble of limbs she had to untangle herself from every time she left the bed.) 

(Jason seemed to gravitate to her proto-core’s warmth.)

(It did not make Jazz happy. Not at all.) 

(Frostbite had only offered her a secretive smirk at her questioning of how attracted attached she was to the once-revenant.)

(Damn Yeti.)

A moment taken to clear her head of such thoughts, Jazz stood up from her desk to stretch her heavy limbs. Life was settling, oddly enough, but when would that change? 

Witching Hours patrol was, admittedly, Jazz’s favorite time of night- Crime Alley was alive while the world outside slept. There were good people who called the Alley their home, their haunt if you will, and the Regent found herself gravitating towards the street walkers when she wanted company during the slow moments. 

They were people doing a job and Jazz had nothing but respect for them. Interwoven as a tight-knit community, a new vigilante hanging about was disconcerting. The Regent was a steadfast presence though and was gradually wearing them down, but Jazz was sure her willingness to beat down the assholes who push their luck helped her case. 

Armored to the teeth with her ecto-sword at her side, she kept a watchful eye during the Alley’s Witching Hours patrol. The big bat himself had refused to cross into the Hood’s territory, but a few of the birds and smaller bats had no such qualm. 

With the King and his Regent’s aid of the Haunt of the Red Hood, the Shades that claimed shelter from larger predators would eagerly warn of approaching intruders, especially those that came with less than neutral intent.

Robin was one such intruder. 

The  youngest of the flock, a fellow sword wielding vigilante, the Robin was a strange bird. 

He felt like Jason did now, but younger, less corrupt than the ecto in the once-Revenant. Perhaps it was due to his age, but there was little doubt that the baby bird would become a powerful baby ghost when it was his time. 

(Lady Gotham had no more of herself left to give, should one of her knights meet an end.) 

(She had given of herself for Jason, the once and Future Hope of Gotham.)

The Regent, brought to attention by a Shade, turned to the Bird in her presence. 

“Good Evening, Robin.” Her voice echoed with a soft cadence. “What brings you to the Hood’s Haunt?” 

The small bird scowled, irritation all but leaking from his very being, “Where is Red Hood?” 

Though he couldn’t see her expression from underneath her helmet, Jazz tried not to let her shock be obvious. 

(What had led the bird to her?)

“Pardon?” 

“Do not waste time, tell me where my brother is and I will not hurt you.” 

(Oh, wasn’t that adorable.) 

Jazz craned her neck farther downward as she stepped closer, not daring to raise her sword from its lowered position at her side. 

The Robin froze as she stood toe to toe with him, the Shades of the Alley surrounding them both as they hissed their displeasure with his threat. 

(Much later, Jazz would soak in the feeling of belonging she received from the Shades.) 

(The Regent was theirs.)

Robin was surely catching the charged energy in the air around them. 

“I do not deal with threats, young bird, when they come from children who should not be heroes.” Jazz hissed, before she softened her tone. “Enough children have died for the sins of their parents.” 

(Danny.) 

(Ellie.) 

(Dan.) 

(Jasmine.) 

“If there is anything I can tell you,” the bird was frozen in shock, perhaps fear, as Jazz continued once more, “Jason will return and he will be free from his corruption, Robin.” 

The Regent did not stick around, instead allowing gravity to bring her down once she jumped from the rooftop. Hopefully Robin would understand something of what she said, but Jazz wasn’t going to get her hopes up. 

Tim did not like mysteries so close to home. 

Home being his siblings, his family, and nothing got his hackles raised more than a mystery that threatened the safety of his people. 

Jason had vanished, no communication in or out prior to his disappearance almost two weeks prior. Usually not a concern, but the Outlaws were all accounted for and had no knowledge of where Red Hood was. 

Or what he had been up to. 

When trying to find a missing person, it usually helped to know what they had been doing beforehand, but Jason was a miser when it came to his personal interests- which included civilian and vigilante activities. Sure, he allowed Oracle to connect him to the main channel, but he had yet to use it. 

Then there were the trackers. 

Tim had three of his own in each of his siblings, one for mask and uniform and two that could be used to record vitals remotely. Bruce had approved of such paranoid foresight, of course he did, and his siblings had only accepted it and moved in, but Jason had adamantly refused Bat-monitoring of any kind- trackers included. 

Though Cass had seen fit to convince their wayward brother otherwise. 

Lo and behold, Tim had been given access to Jason’s only tracker- code withheld by their silent sister until it was clear that Red Hood was missing. 

The best part? 

It was embedded in his chest, in his very body and despite the interference of something making his vital records a rollercoaster of confusing read outs, it proved that Jason had been very much alive on the day of the last Arkham breakout. 

The same breakout that Joker had been abducted and (supposedly) killed during, his head mounted like a grotesque trophy for the world to witness. 

It wasn’t a coincidence that the vitals went haywire within the same timeframe as the Breakout Alarm, was it? 

Tim triple checked the two times and yep, eerily same, though the biggest concern wasn’t that it was during Joker’s abduction, but the fact that the only vital to be recorded thanks to the strange interference was Jason’s heart rate- it’s max number reaching a distressing 230 bpm, before either the tracker finally gave up the ghost or … Jason did. 

It was the sort of thing Tim could only keep to himself for fear of sending Bruce down the path of madness again. 

It was unfortunate that Bruce seemed to come to the worst conclusion possible without Tim’s input.

The incidental meeting with the Ghost Kid, Phantom as he preferred, had thrown everything Tim believed about Death and Not-Death into a depressing tailspin, especially when he finally worked up the courage to sort through the documents and files on the flash drive. 

(And don’t get him started on which was weirder- a ghost having a flash drive or pulling said thing out of his chest like it was normal to have that ability.)

Bruce had not taken Phantom well. 

Not the ghost nor the information he dropped on Batman like a boulder; be it the fact that it was a dead kid he was speaking to, said kid pleading to not send him to war against the living, or an impending war with the Dead thanks to the Government fucking around and finding out. 

(Bruce had been livid.) 

(There were several people immensely grateful that Batman had a no killing rule.) 

(Otherwise heads would be rolling.) 

In all honesty, Tim wasn’t surprised anymore that the dumbasses messed up. 

What he was surprised about, was the lore of the Infinite Realms at his fingertips. It was fascinating that anyone could call these entities non-sapient when they had so many cultures and traditions, the Realms even had a monarchy! 

A powerful being that held several interesting titles according to Phantom’s files: Great One, Defender of The Light, Vanquisher of the Dark, the Once and Future King of Stars….

(Later, a bewildered Constantine would confirm that ‘yes, those are correct and not even close to all of them, how did you get this? Bloody hell, is this color-coded?’) 

(The files were, in fact, color-coded.)

(Green, Teal, Black and Red)

There were so many powerful entities on file, organized by their known power sets, preferred name, and their ‘danger rating’… and they were kept in the green section. 

(Strangely, a small ghost dog with the preferred name ‘Cujo’ was listed with two danger ratings- one for ‘small’ and one for ‘big’.) 

Phantom himself was listed with a mind-boggling power set that included almost the entirety of the Justice League’s own. The only note where it concerned his rating was ‘Spirit of Protection’, which Tim suspected meant that Phantom wasn’t a fighter unless he had to be one, but the power set given made him concerned about what exactly Phantom could be protecting that needed all that. 

The last listed in the high rating category was named only as ‘The Regent’, with the titles of ‘Lady of the Acropolis’ and ‘Death-Claimed Champion’. The picture was of a tall knight in black and teal armor, helmet fully obstructing their face much like the ‘Fright Knight’, bearing a long sword of some intricate design…. And bracelets he’d only seen worn by none other than Wonder Woman. 

Oh yeah, Batman was gonna have a field day.

A/N: Forgot to mention that the song quotes at the beginning are more there for decoration or what songs I was listening to as I wrote. All of them are added to the Jazz/Jason playlist I have.

The idea for the files came from the AO3 fic 'Batman, Meet Team Phantom', this specific chapter. Also, an Anger management ship fic that I've reread several times now. Not a copy, but I really liked the idea.

[fueledbysano]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 kazutora hanemiya

"I can be a better man. I can be a better man for you. I hope, you know, if you'll let me. I can be a better man with you."

♱ pairing: kazutora x afab!reader

♱ content/warning: MATURE. MDNI. unprotected sex

♱ a/n: everyone say thank you to @mztoman for commissioning this fic! 🤍 if you are interested for commissioning a fic, full details are in my navigation^

mdni banner by benkeibear 🤍

♱ 2.9K

Kazutora was at a loss. He had been released from prison after several years, but his friends were nowhere to be found, and he had no place to stay. With Chifuyu gone, and Takemichi in jail, he had no choice but to start from scratch, and that meant finding a job and a place to live. He wandered around the city, which once knew in the back of his mind but now seemed like a different place altogether. 

Without a family, his gang, and his best friends, he was a new man.

It was the third day Kazutora had spent the entire day searching for a job, finally landing success. He was tired, but as he stepped on the train to head home, he couldn't shake off the feeling of relief instead of the hopelessness that had been gnawing at him for the past few days. Just as he was about to take his seat, he accidentally bumped into a young woman standing nearby, and they both stumbled forward.

Instantly, they both started to apologize to each other, their voices meshing together in a jumbled mess of apologies. Kazutora couldn't help but notice the woman's bright smile, her gentle voice, and pleasant face. Even though it had been a long day, she exuded a certain energy that was infectious.

As they sat down, she let out a sigh of relief and apologized for the inconvenience once again. “Are you okay?” Kazutora asks, “Yes, thank you.” She kindly replied before shortly noticing the stack of resumes on Kazutora’s lap. “Any luck?” Kazutora was surprised by her empathy, and found himself making conversation with her.

“Yeah, a record store.” He softly chuckled. “Record store? How cool… to be honest I thought you were some sort of pro musician, but, near enough.” She chuckled, and Kazutora was intrigued. 

“Oh yeah? What made you think that?” He asks. “Well, you have a very unique hairstyle and clothes. And that cool tattoo too! At least, it’s the vibe you give off.” She answered, feeling a strange sense of recognition.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm softly with a smile, “That would be really cool…” He nodded, “But yeah, I do love bands. That’s why I also considered working at the record store.” He explained. Kazutora had always been a solitary person, spending most of his time alone and not really paying attention to the people around him, but something about her felt familiar.

“Congratulations again for getting the job, …” She paused for a moment, realizing that she hadn’t gotten his name yet. “Kazutora.” He smiled and shook her hand. “Kazutora…Hanemiya?.” He chuckled softly, not used to being referred to with his last name, the one that he shared with a terrible human being he unfortunately once called “father”.

and that was the moment when it all suddenly connected for her— this was the delinquent Kazutora she once knew in middle school. The one who pulls his friend out of class, and goes out to gang fights. She couldn't help but think about the incident that had happened in the past. She remembered the day when he was caught stealing from a motorcycle shop, and how he accidentally killed the owner. It was a horrible incident that had left a lasting impact on the whole school and town.

But despite that, she knew that she understood that there was a whole story and context behind that. She had always seen the best in people, and she believed that everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves. And now, as they had reconnected, she felt as though they were put in each other’s paths..

“It’s me, [ Y / N ] —” “[ L / N ]...” Kazutora finished for her.

Life is funny. They weren’t so close in high school, they’ve had a couple of interactions, all of which were pure, pleasant memories. She was kind, understanding, and she truly saw the good in people, even when they didn't see it themselves.

“You remember.” She was quite surprised, not expecting him to remember her at all.

“Yeah, I have a pretty good memory.” He smiled. “What are you up to these days?” He asks.

“Well, that story is going to take longer than my stop.” [ Y / N ] simply said. “I’ll just say that… it’s nice to have a fresh start.” She added.

“I know what you mean.” Kazutora agreed, and she smiled back, understanding where he was coming from.

Finally, when the train reached its destination, he mustered up the courage to ask for her number. And to his surprise, she gave it to him, with a small smile and a soft "good luck" as the train doors opened.

As he stepped off the train and into the night, he knew that she had given him more than just her number— she had given him hope.

As Kazutora walked through the bustling city to his new job, he couldn't help but think about her. The girl with the sweet and bubbly personality who had shown him so much kindness all those years, and when they met each other again on the train. He wanted to have a connection with her, but he also knew that he first needed to get his life together. He wanted to be the best version of himself for her, to be someone she could be proud of.

He reached the job site and got to work, feeling nervous but also excited at the prospect of starting a new chapter in his life. The work was tough, but he threw himself into it, learning as much as he could throughout the day and impressing his boss with his work ethic.

As the day wore on, while closing up the shop, Kazutora found himself thinking more and more about [ Y / N ]. He wondered if she was thinking about him, too.

"Good job today, Kazutora," she said, a warm smile on her face. He turned around to see her, looking just as beautiful as he remembered. She was holding a cup of boba and had a bright, energetic attitude that made him feel light and confident just looking at her.

“[ Y / N ]? Hey, I wasn’t expecting you.” He gave her a soft, welcoming smile. “I know, I’m sorry…” She chuckled. “It’s just that… you said you work in a record store around here, and… funny, because I work at a dental clinic a couple blocks away.” She says.

“Really? Well, that’s perfect… because then… I can take you home~?” He offered his hands for the bundle of shopping bags in her other hand.”

“I’d like that.” She smiled and handed him her bags.

As the day ended and they made their way back to the train station, they found themselves opening up to each other and getting to know more about their lives. As they talked, Kazutora couldn't help but be struck by how much she understood him. Even though they'd just met, he felt safe and comfortable in her presence. 

And as they continued to talk, as the train rumbled on towards its destination, he knew that there was a reason why they were brought into each other’s lives. He was determined to make something more of himself, to be the kind of person he could be proud of, the kind of person she deserved.

“I never really planned on staying here, basically. When I landed my first job out of the city, I got into a relationship with my superior and… well… the jerk turned out to be married. The wife showed up at work and started rambling about how I was a homewrecker.” He couldn't help but feel a sense of anger and frustration on her behalf, angry how someone could take advantage and betray her like that.

“Since then, no one would hire me in town. And I thought fuck it and returned here.”

He asked her what he could do to help, and she told him that she just needed someone to listen. He was happy to do that for her, to be there for her and to offer her a listening ear. And as they talked, she felt a sense of peace and calm wash over her.

They have reached their stop and headed to [ Y / N ]’s apartment complex. “I’d invite you inside, but my roommate is currently moving out so it’s really cluttered.” [ Y / N ] explained. “Ah, I understand, I’ve lived in worse circumstances.” Kazutora jokes. “I practically live in a can of sardines. Plus it’s under a train track so I get three hours of sleep max. But I guess that’s an upgrade from prison.” He chuckled.

“Come live with me.”

"What!?" he asked, unable to hide the shock in his voice

“Yeah… it’s hard to look for a new roommate anyway. I don't have the time for doing all that.” She explained. 

Kazutora couldn't believe his luck. He had just met her again after all these years, and now he had the chance to live with her, to spend more time with her, to get to know her even better. He didn't want to mess things up, so he did his best to act calm and collected.

“Are pets allowed?”

“Sure.”

She smiled at him, clearly pleased with his response. "I'm sure you'll be a great roommate," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And besides, it's not like we're strangers. We're old friends, remember?"

He was determined to not make her regret meeting him again, to make himself into the person he always knew he could be, and to show her that he was worth the chance she had given him. He knew that he had a lot of work to do, but with her by his side, it’s like he took a big step forward. After all, maybe he didn’t really lose everything…

Christmas is a time of year for joy, for spending time with loved ones and creating memories that will last a lifetime. And for [ Y / N ], Christmas was supposed to be a time to escape the cold and spend some time with her ex-boyfriend. That's when she remembered the vacation house she had booked, but with no one to go with, she wasn't sure what to do. But then she thought of Kazutora, and how he had been there for her through everything. She decided to invite him to join her on the trip, hoping that he would say yes.

At first, Kazutora was hesitant. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to go on a trip with someone he had such strong feelings for. But after thinking it over, he decided that he couldn't pass up the opportunity to spend some time with her outside of their daily routine.

As they made their way to the vacation home, they couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. They couldn't help but notice the romantic atmosphere. Each corner of the house was decorated with lights and Christmas ornaments, and the scent of fresh cookies lingered in the air. They could feel the tension between them growing, and they both knew that this trip was going to be different from anything either of them had experienced before.

As the fire crackled in the fireplace, Kazutora and the[ Y / N ] sat close together, lost in their own thoughts. The comfort of each other's presence was palpable, and they both knew that they had been dancing around their feelings for each other for far too long.

Kazutora finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know that you were supposed to go to this place with someone else, but I'm glad that it ended up being me." His eyes were locked on hers, and there was a warmth in them that made her heart flutter.

She smiled, taking his hand in hers. "I'm glad it was you, too." She paused, searching for the words to express what she was feeling. As she looked into his eyes, she knew that he felt it  too.

They sat in silence for a moment, taking in the weight of their confession.

Kazutora leaned in, his face just inches from hers. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've loved you for so long, but I was too afraid to say it."

[ Y / N ]'s eyes filled with tears at his words, and she pulled him close, kissing him passionately. "I love you too, Kazutora," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "I've always loved you." [ Y / N ] soon found herself  sitting on Kazutora’s lap, leaning in for another steamy kiss.

His fingers slowly rested on her hips, his heart rate picking up when he felt a surge of emotions wash over him. For the first time in his life, he was experiencing something so pure and beautiful, and it was with someone he cared about deeply. He was nervous, but excited, and as their lips met, he felt like he was on top of the world. He had never done so intimate before, and he didn't know what to expect, but he knew that this was special.

As they pulled apart, he looked into her eyes, and he could see the love and the kindness that he had always seen in her. He knew that this moment was the start of something beautiful, and he was ready to give his all to make it last.

“You look even prettier straddling me like this, sweetheart~” He admired her face, stroking her cheek. As [ Y / N ]’s lips begin to descend onto him, Kazutora could feel his heart pounding furiously in his chest. He can tell that her body is just as passionately waiting for his touch and kisses. So his hands go over her hips, pulling her closer to his body.

Kazutora’s hands slowly start to move upward, brushing up against her panties. He starts to pull on the fabric, looking at her with intensity. Her heart is beating rapidly right now as she breathes heavily above him. He feels the heat coming from her body, feeling her touch against his. He slowly brings his lips back up to her lips and kisses her deeply, his lust and desire overcoming him now.

He pulls her dress up, leaving her in her bra on top of him.

“Mr. Hanemiya…” She whispered sensuously, slowly working her hands down his pants. “It’s cold, isn’t it? May I warm you up~?” [ Y / N ] bats her eyes, enough for Kazutora not to notice her fingers beginning to undo his jeans. The way his last name rolled out of her tongue perfectly, the only time he’ll ever feel loved hearing it.

He pulls her closer to him and lets out another soft moan, feeling her bare body mold and conform against his. 

Kazutora’s eyes go wide as he realizes that she is making this quite intense. At the feeling of her hands going into his underwear, his breathing begins to quicken and his body tenses up as he feels his desires go out of control.

He slowly pulls her up just a bit, just enough to touch his aching tip to her entrance.

“Only if I get to do it first…” He whispered, finally feeling all of her in one swift movement. [ Y / N ]’s hands rushed to his long hair to tug on them, discerning Kazutora’s body as they connected for the first time. 

Kazutora feels [ Y / N ]’s lips on his, as gently pressing into his again and again, in sync with her rocking hips. Her kisses and thrusts send a wave of pleasure through his body, making him moan softly and unable to control his desires.

Kazutora wanted to cum right then and there, but he knew he wanted to make this last for her. “Ugh, I love this.” He shuddered, body jolting slightly as she pulsed around his cock. She rocked down on him, purposely letting her hear his desperate whines. Kazutora clutched her ass tightly, her pussy touching his base and breathing heavily as he hit deeper.

[ Y / N ] rocked her hips back and forth, enjoying the sensation of the stretch by his thick cock. Within seconds, his pace starts to grow wild, drilling into her pussy, their hips now clashing together. He was finally getting some action after using his sole imagination in so long.

Gripping both of his shoulders tightly, she began to bounce harder on his cock, the ginger radiance of the fireplace shining on her face which made it heightened the experience for Kazutora. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted so badly…” He whispered right next to her ear.

“I love getting to know you like this…” Her cheeks flushed warm. “I wanna cum…” He sighed and planted his hands back on her hips, his thrusts growing more desperate. “I wanna help you with that.” She moaned softly before speeding up her own pace. “What a good girl, showing me those cute tits bounce while you fuck yourself on my dick.” He grunted, bleached hair sticking to his forehead as they continued to fuck each other.

“Ah, Hanemiya-sama~” The explosive sensation ricochets through her body, making him feel her warm cum gushing down his balls just as he spilled into her pussy. He pulls out and you breathlessly collapse on his chest, feeling the light afterglow from the intense moment.

His eyes softened as he watched you snuggle up to him breathlessly. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he knew that he was going to remember this moment forever. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her body against his, and he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 2)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: You and Ghost argue every single day. Things aren't getting better. You're over it and wish Ghost would stop. But he makes a point to fight with you every time you're in his line of sight. Even when you try let it go, he doesn't. And you've had enough.

Chapter warnings: Cursing, VERY small mentions of consensual torture (like for one sentence).

Notes: Two chapters in one day? Maybe?? Don't expect it too often, but I'll finish this one I promise!!

Two months had passed, and the days dragged on mercilessly. The swelling in Ghost’s eye had disappeared after the first week. The depression had passed after the first month, now replaced with anger and hatred. Ghost and I had gone from awkward silence, to irritated glances, to going to extreme lengths to avoid each other, and finally, to having full blown arguments. At first, in a semi-private setting, then later, in whatever place we were in when the fight would start. Our teammates were growing concerned and annoyed with the constant tension. Multiple people had suggested we try to be civil and talk things out, and others said we needed to go to therapy. All of them, of course, never let on that they knew this was about something more than a work-related disagreement. They understood exactly why Ghost and I had been fighting.

Ghost and I, on the other hand, believed that we had done a good job at keeping our “situation” a secret.

Morning had come all too soon; I had managed to crawl into bed after another late night of anger and despair; my mind was busy reliving the moments of the argument Ghost and I had, right outside of my dorm. We had shouted like there wasn’t another soul on base, throwing insults and jabs like they were daggers – and they certainly felt like it. Ghost would typically use the “You should have known better” argument, and I took the “If you had a problem, why didn’t you say anything?” route. He called me insane. I called him a hypocrite. The same jumble of expletives until I would finally slam the door in his face and go to bed, a sobbing mess.

I had skimmed the surface of sleep until my alarm buzzed at 5 AM. I let it drone on for a while, staring out my window, watching the sun just barely breaking the surface. It was going to be a dark morning, and a cold day. Luckily, the day’s agenda for the 141 agents was mostly finishing paperwork from the last mission. I went through the motions of showering, getting dressed, putting my hair back… before I knew it, I was standing in front of my door, empty coffee cup in one hand, files and paperwork in the other, ready to start the day, At least, I looked ready. In reality, I felt like I was being held together with paperclips and thread, about to collapse at any second.

I made my way to the mess hall, claiming a seat with some of the female sergeants before heading to the line. My stomach didn’t like the look of the food, so I instead went to grab a cup of coffee. I wasn’t one for coffee, however, I needed it as a replacement for tea. Since Ghost and I had first fought, I refused to drink any sort of tea – I said it was to help me get over him, but I knew I was just being childish.

Haphazardly, I noticed that there were only two tea bags left by the brewing station. For a second, I thought I should just bite the bullet and make tea, since this would probably be all that was left until the following month. Then, a very petty idea came to mind. I casually glanced around the hall – no sign of Ghost. I raised my eyebrows, suspicious at the coincidence of it all. God, this timing is too perfect. I turned back and finished pouring cream in my coffee. Simultaneously, I snagged the teabags and shoved them in my thigh pocket, then walked back to the table like it had never happened.

When people commend me on my stealth, I can’t help but think of how I used it for dumb shit like this.

I sat down next to two of my closest friends, Skyline and Beth (not all of us chose to stick with a callsign, and Beth was one of those people). I sipped my coffee innocently.

“You’ve got a long day today.” Beth said, weighing my paperwork in her hands. “If you’d let the others get a chance at shanking the enemy, you wouldn’t have so much to report.” She plopped the paper back down with a thud.

“I already got started on it last night.” I muttered. My eyes kept flicking back to the entrance of the mess hall, waiting for Ghost. “Besides, keeps me busy.”

Beth looked at me and huffed. She followed my line of sight to the doors, then looked back at me, disappointed. “Really?”

I shrugged. “What?” I said, innocently taking another sip.

“I told you she’d do something.” Skyline piped in, unbothered as she slowly stirred her coffee. “What is it now, huh? D’you take off his door knob?”

I glanced between the two of them with an offended look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Why didn’t I ever think of that before?!

“You have got to let this go.” Beth said exasperated. “This is the most unprofessional I’ve seen you since I met you.”

That one stung. I looked at Beth, narrowing my eyes. “Are you serious- “

“It’s been over two months now. Yes, I’m serious.” Beth rubbed the bridge of her nose, and Skyline hummed in agreement. Beth continued: “You’re both acting so fucking childish. I’m surprised you even managed to get him to stoop to your level here. But it’s not just a problem for the both of you now, everyone has to deal with your shit.”

“I think your bun’s just pulled too tight.” I replied dryly. I was too busy watching Ghost walk in and place his things on the table next to Soap.

“For fuck’s sake, Bonnie – “ Beth stood up and gathered her tray. “We’re just trying to look out for you. Get your shit together.” She stormed off to find a different table, far away from me.

I watched her walk away, suddenly feeling ashamed. She was right, I was being a child. I was stooping lower than I though I ever could.

Skyline clicked her tongue. “You really should get over him.” She piped up. “It’s holding you back, you’re not focused, you look tired and worn out all the time.” She stood and picked up her tray, heading away to follow Beth. “We just don’t want to see you lose everything over some petty mistake.”

Mistake. I was tired of that word. I watched her walk away, anger bubbling in my mind. I looked back at Ghost, who was now standing by the coffee station, glancing around for the last tea bags. I sighed. Let’s get this over with.

I got up and walked over to him, fishing the tea bags from my pocket. I slapped them down on the counter in front of Ghost. “Figured you need these more than I do.”

Ghost stared at the bags for a long second, then looked sharply at me. His gaze was always intense behind the mask (right now, just the balaclava), but now more than ever, they were filled with hatred.

I shrugged. “I decided on coffee.” I answered his unspoken question.

I left Ghost at the brew station, exiting the mess hall and making quick strides towards my room. I knew the look on his face meant trouble, and I didn’t want to deal with his bullshit. For the first time in a while, I wanted the arguing and face-offs to be over. Beth’s words struck a chord with me, making me realize how much time I was wasting fighting with Ghost. Deep down, I wanted it to end, so I could go back to being the best stealth expert on the team. I had become so distracted and irritable over the past several months, and it was finally crashing down on me.

If I had felt hungry before going to the mess hall, it had faded since then. I just wanted to finish my paperwork in my dorm, go back to sleep, maybe stand in the shower and think… maybe even apologize to Beth and Skyline, telling them they were right – which would be hard. It took a lot for me to admit I was wrong, even to myself. Especially to myself.

I was angry again. I was tired of being angry. I was tired of getting frustrated, getting into fights, and crying after. I was tired of being tired. It was a workout of it’s own. But there I was, fuming again as I stormed away down the halls, muttering curses to myself.

Cutting my thoughts short, I heard Ghost’s angry voice behind me. “The fuck was that all about?” he yelled.

My eyes rolled so hard they nearly got stuck.

“Are you really going to do this over a couple of teabags??” I said, calling the fight before it had even started. “I don’t want to argue with you, Ghost. I decided not to piss you off today, that’s why I gave them back.”

“No, I’ve had enough of you and you’re selfish fucking attitude.” Ghost trailed behind me, fuming. His steps were heavier than mine and his stride slower, yet he easily kept up with my pace. “Every day it’s something new with you; some stupid fucking reason for you to piss me off, and then you go acting all innocent like nothing happened. I’m fucking tired of it.”

“Then go the fuck to bed and leave me alone.” I retorted. This was what I couldn’t understand. Why does he keep following me every day just to get mad? If he think’s I’m trying to annoy him why doesn’t he just ignore me? Why does he have to yell at me every damn day?

“Oh, real mature, real fucking mature, Bonnie. You haven’t changed one bit, you’re still a bloody prick!”

“And you’re still crawling back for more, huh?!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you!! This is fucking petty, Ghost!!”

“You think I’m being petty?!” he shouted, defensively, following me around a corner. “Fuckin’ take a look at yourself, acting like a child. Can’t be a fucking adult here, you’re just going t’ walk away like nothing happened, huh? You gonna fucking run every time I try and talk to you? You know, that’s real fucking weak of you!!”

Weak. My mind snapped before I knew what was happening.

I grabbed my knife from my belt and spun a full one-eighty, flinging it as hard as I could in Ghost’s direction. It missed his face by a couple of inches before it collided with the cement wall behind him and clattered to the floor. As the clang echoed throughout the hallway, I caught Ghost holding his breath, a shocked look in his eyes. He knew how good my aim was – he had seen it countless times in combat. I never miss my mark. But this time, he wasn’t sure what I had meant to hit.

“Fuck OFF.” I emphasized the words I yelled though the glare I shot him, before finally turning away. The walls on either side of me seemed to close in, and the end of the hall stretched farther and farther away with each step I took. I knew Ghost was still frozen behind me, trying to figure out if I had meant to shank him or if I had intentionally missed him – frankly, I was just as uncertain as he was.

Finally reaching my door, I barreled through it and slammed it behind me. My head was throbbing from the emotions swimming through it. I didn’t want to cry again, I was so goddamn tired of crying. Yet the stinging threat of tears lingered in my eyes all the same. I stood there, fuming, my shoulders heaving from the breaths I sucked in, trying to wash away the red behind my eyelids. It wasn’t enough.

I ripped my shirt over my head and threw it to the ground. I kicked off my shoes, yanked down my pants, and ripped off my underwear as I stumbled to my bathroom. My head was dizzy as I frantically pulled myself into the shower, cranking it on and to the highest setting. Initially, the water hit my skin like shards of ice, making my muscles tense and shake. Slowly, it turned into a cooling rain, then a comforting shower, before it finally burned.

It felt so good. Maybe not good, but it was distracting. The water felt like a million cigarettes being put out against my skin. I remembered how Simon used to do that, once or twice, placing claims on my skin that no one else would see but us. I told him I never wanted them to fade, but they did anyways. I braced my hands against the wall in front of me and hunched my back. My muscles fought against my brain, shaking with the urge to jump back from the water, as my mind forced them to stay locked under it. My scalp screamed under the heat as small, hot streams trickled down my face. It burned. All of it burned, and it felt so good. So numbing.

Eventually, the water cooled off a bit. The base’s water heater was unable to keep up with what I needed. As the searing pain eased off, the emotions came flooding back – now, as despair and confusion. The void in my chest came back, angry and empty as ever. I had nothing to fill it with. I tried folding in on myself, crumpling to the floor, hoping to fill the gap with my own self. But it didn’t work. Nothing ever worked.

[the-guilty-writer]

I'd Better Ask Emily

Request from anon: Hear me out😅 Spencer Reid x daughter!reader where the reader is a lesbian but is to scared to tell Spencer and Spencer someone find out by accidentally reading her diary or something?

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: When Spencer goes looking for your school notebook and accidentally reads your diary instead he goes to the BAU bisexual badass for help.

A/N: I really wanted to do this justice so there's angst and fluff and bisexual Emily Prentiss because she had more chemistry with women than any male love interest. I’m also a sucker for Reid and Prentiss friendship so there is a good chunk of it in here.

CW: reader is gay, Emily is bi, let’s be honest everyone on the team is a little fruity, suggestions that Emily wasn’t supported, coming out of the closet, reader goes to social justice march.

---

“And my math homework is on the table for you to check over!” It was a Friday morning and you were in a rush to get out the door. There was a social justice march beginning at the national mall in half an hour and your AP government teacher had convinced the principal to cancel classes so every student could participate. Plus you were getting extra credit.

“What about your reading summaries?” Your dad asked you. Spencer always proof-read your graded assignments, per your request. It helped to have his genius input, though sometimes you wondered if he went easy on you. Since you were a child, you’d never made a craft or drew a picture or wrote something that your dad didn’t love.

“In my notebook on my desk,” you said hastily. “Bye, love you!”

“Love you too. Don’t get-” The door slammed shut. Spencer sighed. “Arrested.”

He made his way to your room. For the most part you were tidy, but your desk was a mess. Colored pens and highlighters, loose leaf paper with to-do lists, a stack of books that was falling over onto the jumbled surface. Spencer began to sift through the clutter, fixing the stack of books, putting your writing utensils in a pile, looking around for your notebook- but of course you hadn’t clarified which notebook. By the time he was done sorting through the mess there were five of them total. He began to read through them, trying to identify which one you wrote your reading summaries in.

It was down to the last two. Spencer grabbed the next one in the stack and opened to a random page:

I’ve never been one for poetry, but I find myself wanting to write verses on how her eyes crinkle when she laughs and the way her hips sway as she walks.

That sounded English-y and promising. Spencer kept reading.

I imagine her skin is soft, like velveteen, and her hair like expensive silk. The smell of her perfume is that of vanilla and honey; it reminds me of summer.

The sound of her voice is like a siren’s music. When she calls my name I can’t help but get up from my spot in the cafeteria and-

Wait.

There weren’t cafeterias in the book you were reading for school.

Spencer read the passage back again and again. He couldn’t help himself- he flipped to the front page to start from the beginning and finished reading the entirety of your diary in two minutes. There were entries spanning over two years, but one thing stuck out to Spencer more than anything else:

You talked about girls.

You talked liking girls.

Of course the diary contained passages on other things, like the day you visited your dream school and a cute dog you had met at the park… but you were dreaming of cute girls. And you never told him.

Spencer closed the diary and put it on your desk. His only thought: I’d better ask Emily about this.

---

Emily added a small amount of creamer to her coffee and went to sit down at her desk, highly regretting that she’d put her paperwork until the last minute again. The stack of files on her desk was beginning to rival Hotch’s, and that was not a competition she wanted to win. She sat down at her desk and opened up a file, pen in hand ready to go when-

“Um, hey Emily. Can I ask you something?”

If it was anyone but Spencer, she probably would have told them to ask her during the lunch break she wasn’t going to take, but there was a hesitancy in his voice that made her stop. Emily knew she looked like she might bite someone if they bothered her- Morgan had already gotten a taste of her mood that morning- but Spencer never seemed to notice when her annoyance rose to the surface. If he was uncomfortable it was because he had his own problem. He needed her help.

And she needed his speed reading to get through all the files on her desk.

“Morning, Reid,” she said, her annoyance turning to concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, I- uh- I kind of saw something I shouldn’t have this morning and I wanted to ask you about it.” He rubbed his neck nervously.

Emily tried to keep a straight face as she thought of every embarrassing teenage incident captured on video or sin-to-win photograph that could possibly be out there for Spencer to come across.

“What is it?” Emily asked, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

“You like women romantically, right?”

Okay… that didn’t rule out embarrassing adolescent mistakes or weekends in Atlantic City.

“Yes.”

“Because I accidentally read (Y/N)’s diary this morning and she writes a lot about being attracted to girls but she hasn’t told me yet and-”

“You read your daughter’s diary?!” Emily wasn’t sure if she was more shocked that Reid would do such a thing, or relieved that her privacy was still intact. “Reid-”

“It was an accident!” he said. “I was looking for her reading summaries for school and she told me it was in the notebook on her desk and then I just saw it…”

Emily hoped the devastation on Spencer’s face was for the right reasons.

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

Yeah… it was for the right reasons.

Emily sighed, leaning her elbows on her desk. “I’m sure that you demonstrate your open-mindedness at home-”

“I do.”

“And I’m sure you tell (Y/N) that you love her no matter what-”

“All the time.”

“But that doesn’t make it any less scary.”

Spencer didn’t respond.

“Coming out isn’t easy. No matter how sure you are that you will be accepted there’s always a little bit of doubt. There’s always the fear that it’ll change the fundamental way a person loves you and that you’ll never treat them the same.” Emily pushed away memories- memories filled with pain and relief and anxiety and frustration. The only thing that eased the thoughts were that she knew you wouldn’t have to go through what she did; not with Spencer as your dad. “She’s probably feeling really afraid, even if she doesn’t show it.”

“How can I make it better?”

Spencer’s genuine love for you- a love that every child should get to experience- made Emily feel as though she was falling apart and being put back together again all at the same time.

“Just let her know you love her,” Emily said. “A little goes a long way.”

---

As you walked up to the door of the apartment you felt like you were floating on cloud nine; for two years you had been crushing on this girl you shared classes with. You knew she was openly and unapologetically gay- making it a point to post pictures of herself on social media with pride flags and holding hands with her now ex-girlfriend. They had broken up about eight months ago and ever since then you’d hope that she would notice you. For three months the two of you had hung out in group settings- getting to know one another with other people there as a buffer- but you’d gathered your courage today to ask her out on a date. And she said yes.

“So I guess the march was good?”

You were so distracted from the events of the day you hadn’t even noticed your dad was home.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, startled. “It was good. Really good. Lots of… social justice and things.” You cursed yourself for not having a better answer. You should have been good at faking feelings and answers by now, having been raised by a profiler. Even then, Spencer always saw right through you.

The high you were on came crashing down- your dad always saw right through you. There was no way you could go on a date, let alone your first date, without him catching on. Discomfort grappled with your stomach and anxiety bubbled in your chest. You tried to reach for the courage you had earlier, but it was gone.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Your dad walked over and put a gentle hand on your arm.

“Uh-” You swallowed. “Yeah- yeah, I’m fine.”

Your dad suddenly looked weary. It was the same look when he told you he was going to miss your tenth birthday because of a case, or when he got a call that your grandmother’s medication wasn’t working as well as they had hoped.

“(Y/N),” he started. “I love you. I really hope you know that. And I’m glad you had a good day.”

“I love you too, dad,” you said, waiting for him to break bad news. But it didn’t come. He just gave you his awkward tight-lipped smile before tucking your hair behind your ear and turning away.

There was something about the gesture and the words that called the courage back to you. Well, some of the courage.

“I’m going on a date,” you blurted. Spencer turned back to you. You tried to look for clues on his face or in his body language that would tell you what he was thinking or feeling, but you were too caught up in your own head to make sense of any of it. “I asked someone out on a date and they said yes.”

Your father smiled wide. “That’s great, honey! Is it anyone I know?”

“Oh- um-” Spencer didn’t know many of your friends in person, but he knew them from what you told him, and what Garcia could dig up on them. “Yeah. They’re in some of my classes.”

You waited for your dad to call you out on the vagueness of your language, but he didn’t. He only continued to smile and encourage you to go on- is it a study date or a real date? Real date. Weekend or after school? Weekend. Are you taking the metro or do you want him to drive you? Actually it was a walkable distance.

The more you talked, the more excited you got. You were still careful to control your language, but the bravery was beginning to grow. You thought about taking a deep breath, but you didn’t. Instead you just said, “And she’s a girl.”

The world stilled for just a moment- your heart which was beating fast with excitement was now racing with panic. Your stomach was in knots and you felt your hands begin to shake. “I’m gay, dad.”

Spencer placed a gentle hand over yours, stopping it from quivering. The look in his eyes couldn’t be described as happy, but it wasn’t sad. No… it was peace. It was content.

“I know,” he said.

“You- you do?” The weight began to lift off your shoulders, but it was replaced by a bit of shock.

“Yes.” Spencer smiled. “Next time you should clarify which of your notebooks you wrote your assignments in.” Both of you chuckled, and you felt your body unwind as tension left your muscles. “And if it’s any consolation, I think your poetry is great.”

You smiled. “You always love everything I write.”

Your dad pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Because I love you.”

There was no more tension now- no more fear and no more doubt- just you and your dad being excited about your first big crush and your first big date. And it didn’t matter that it was with a girl. Spencer would always love you no matter what.

"So," he said. "What are you going to wear?"

You thought about the clothes you had, but none of your outfits seemed just right.

"I think I might go shopping for something new," you said.

Spencer smiled. You had a shopping buddy- the same one since you were little.

"So I guess I'd better ask Emily."

[novacqnes]

pre-show ritual // ellie williams

warning: very smutty, fingering

pairing: ellie williams x fem reader

a/n: been noticing a lot of ellie in a band posts and it got me thinking— also i didn’t have the energy to turn this into a full fledged fic so here are all of my thoughts randomly jumbled together at 3 am

what’s a good performance without a pre show ritual…?

you were her assistant, the band’s success was more than ellie had bargained for so she sought out extra help. this included the regular coffee fetching, interview planning— at times casual sex. although it wasn’t at all your job description it became a regular thing, and to be honest you looked forward to it. she was under loads of stress being the lead guitarist and needed some sort of outlet, thus she found it in you. the opening performance was coming to a close and the crowd's chants grew even louder, fueling ellie’s ego to a dangerous level.

her fingers were slick with your wetness, pumping in and out of you with every stroke. her body was hot, raging with desire as she pressed against you. it was ten minutes till show time and ellie showed no signs of stopping. she adored the sound her name falling from your lips and your sharp cries that only seemed to urge her to continue.

“w-we have to stop—fuck—they’re probably looking for you,” you mewled, nails sinking into deep ellie’s skin. nevertheless, she persisted, slowly curving the tips of her fingers up to meet your g-spot. she toyed with the sensitive tissue, bringing her lips to the nape of your neck.

“eight minutes till the show.”

her breath was warm, raising goosebumps as she whispered, “we’ve got time.” the chants roared through the stadium, ellie’s name sticking out in all of them and it became a mission, you were going to come before she got on stage.

your legs were slowly giving out and your vision blurred as hot tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. ellie’s thumb toyed with your clit, rubbing it along the pad while simultaneously fucking you to the brink of tears. the noises filling the small room filthily were consisting of ellie’s curses, your pleas, and the slick sounds of your pussy.

“five minutes till the show.”

“fuck….i can feel it. you’re close aren’t you?” she purred, sinking her slim fingers into you with even more fervor. you could hardly produce a coherent sentence mumbling broken clauses into her ear. you wrapped around her deliciously and she knew it was a matter of time before you began to unravel.

ellie felt like she was experiencing heaven on earth. the crowd’s repetition seemed to mirror you, with each chant she was closer to bringing you to a high, one that would leave you shaking for the rest of the show. with the utmost strength and vigor, she brought her lips down onto yours, fingers reaching an unfathomable face.

“that’s it baby….come for me,” she cooed, easing you through it. you became drenched in your own arousal, nearly wetting ellie herself. she placed soft kisses on your neck as she brought fingers to your lips, ushering you to taste.

“two minutes till the show.”

“you have to go,” you whispered weakly, eyes glancing towards the clock. the shockwaves still rippled through your body but ellie couldn’t miss her performance, with a cocky smile she kissed you once more before dashing out of the room.

you slid onto the floor, gasping for air as the performance began. the deep resonance ellie’s guitar echoed through the walls, pulling you from one high to the next. she struck each chord meticulously and with intent nearly mimicking the exact way she fucked you just minutes prior. your moans reverberated throughout her ears, providing a perfect base for the music as she played all night long.

[oceansssblue]

100 CELEBRATION — PROMPT 14. TELEPATHY

TECH / F READER 💖(🔥)

WARNINGS: BRIEF MENTIONS OF INSECURITIES, SEXUAL THOUGHTS BUT NO PROPER SEX SCENE.

NOTES: Here we have a fluffy and sweet/sensual one for our dear Tech. Oh, how I love that man... Let me know if you' ve liked it and reblog if you can. We've only got 3 more prompts for the 100celeb left (with our boys Rex, Cross, and Echo). See you on the next one! Xx, Blue.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tech had a strict rule; he would not use his mind-reading ability on anyone if not for safety reasons exclusively. That meant, for example, that he was able –and would– use his telepathy to find out Cid's ulterior plans –plans the Trandoshan never mentioned to Hunter– ; but he would control himself and refrain from reading his brother's minds outside of missions and the like. If Tech didn't consider someone in danger, he would silence the thoughts that so often slipped uninvited into his mind.

However, even his own strict rule had to be broken on the rare occasion. Sometimes, the few people he cared about weren't in inminent physical danger; but experimenting some sort of emotional stress that they couldn't always resolve by themselves. Watching them suffer in silence when he might have been able to help if only he had been informed of the nature of their affliction... Well, in those cases, Tech felt morally obliged to intervene.

All this considered, there's no valid reason for him to use his telepathy on you today; but he can't help himself. He had tried to reach a logical conclusion for your behaviour around him lately; to no avail. What he knows is that you can't stand to be in the same space as him for more than a few minutes at a time. He had brushed it aside as mere coincidences at first -you had forgotten something, or had to help Omega with another-; but after a whole month of quiet observation, Tech can't deny the truth any longer. It hurts, the thought of you finding him so irritating or disliking him so much that you inmediately shied away from his presence; but he wants to know what exactly you can't stand about him. Perhaps he can find a solution to it... Tech isn't fond of many people; but he is of you, and he values the friendship that had slowly blossomed between the two of you. He thought you did too, he was sure of it. He needs to know what has changed.

And so the next time you rush out of the cockpit to the sonic, after putting an abrupt end to your conversation with him once again, Tech tunes your thoughts in. Your voice echoes inside his head in a series of stressed whispers. He has to concentrate to discern the jumbled words from one another; your mind is working light speed.

"Oh my god, will I ever stop messing up my words every time I talk to him? With how impossibly smart he is, he probably thinks I'm stupid by now!"

Then, a firm, clear sentence -Tech can imagine you pointing at yourself at the mirror, frustrated-.

"Get your shit together!"

He hears the door of the sonic opening and your footsteps moving in the direction of the bunks.

Alone with his own thoughts again, Tech ponders the new information around. He's relieved to know that at least you don't seem to be angry or irritated at him per se. You just seem to be intimidated by his intelligence; which is more of a compliment than anything else, really. Still, he can't help but feel guilty. Had he ever acted in a way that has made you feel undervalued? Had he off-handedly critiqued any aspect of your psyche? Made an unfortunate comment on how your mind processes things? He doesn't believe so; but it wouldn't surprise him either. For all the intelligence he posseses, he knows he often lacks of emotional tact; something that his brothers -Wrecker, in particular- seem to be well versed in.

Ah, there's always things to learn, mm?

He'll try to make you feel more at ease next time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tech is pleasantly surprised to have you tagging along in his exploration of Arkana's forest. The rest of The Batch had decided to stay in The Marauder, catching up on some sleep; but he had prefered to take the chance to observe the planet's rich ecosistem before they had to make their way back to Ord Mantell the following morning. You had inmediately jumped at the oportunity as well. Tech would have thought that an hour expedition would have been too much for you to be in his presence; but you had joined him with a bright smile, and half an hour later, your mood is just as friendly.

Arkana's forest is a surprising mix of bright colourful flora. There's not as much green as one would have expected; but instead, trees and flowers grow in vibrants blues, pinks and yellows. Your eyes widen in awe at a bright neon magenta flower that is as tall as yourself; steps slowing down to admire it.

"What's its name?" you ask him, curiously.

Tech doesn't need to consult his datapad; he knows exactly what it is.

"Fluoridium flowers. Their shine is not a property of the plant per se, but a result of different kinds of neon-like minerals in Arkana's soil. It is often used as..." Tech notices the way you're silently staring at him, an almost lost expression on your face.

He remembers your thoughts on him; and the rest of his explanation quickly dies on his throat. He doesn't want to overwhelm you with unnecessary information. He ends his info-dumping -as Crosshair used to call it- with a few brief words.

"Let's just say it has a lot of uses".

He nods to himself, and then re-starts their walk through the forest. You follow him inmediately, frowning in confusion at his interrumpted explanation.

"For example?" you ask him, and Tech shoots a carefull glance back at you.

"I didn't think you'd be interested in knowing that".

His words bring a honest, surprised expression on your face.

"Why not?" you sound highly confused.

You can't help but think you've done something wrong. It had looked like Tech had wanted to share the information with you; and then he had stoped himself from continuing after taking a look at your face. Had you done something you weren't aware of?

Tech's eyes flicker around the forest almost avoiding you.

"I wouldn't want to bore you" he answers, voice quiet and hesitant.

Tech is never hesitant. He might not know everything; but even then, his usual way of talking is always confident and self-assured. He has no problem in admiting a lack of knowledge in something; he'd admit it in the same firm tone he uses for everything. Why is he acting so strange now?

His words tug at your heart. Perhaps something has happened without you noticing it. Perhaps there had been some sort of discusion between the brothers; or some fleeting comment Tech had taken too personal.

You are enamoured by him; he could never bore you.

For the first time in perhaps forever, you reach your hand towards his wrist; tugging him into a stop and looking up into his eyes with your cheeks lighted up in a faint blush.

"I find all your explanations interesting" you sum up the courage to add "I like hearing you talk, Tech".

You shoot him a small, soft smile; fingers squeezing his wrist softly before letting him go.

Tech is momentarily stunned. He is first confused by the contradiction between your recent afirmation and the thoughts he had heard from you just a few days ago; he is also surprised by the tender affection he reads on your eyes. Your honest little admission sends a warm feeling to his heart.

You're still looking at him; perhaps waiting for an answer, a reaction from him. Tech's heart speeds up. He feels the need to listen to your mind tingling through his veins; and he allows himself that little exception again, just this time.

"How could you ever be boring? You're like a living encyclopedia. And you look so adorable when you're explaining something, specially when you raise your index. I like seing how excited you get, how you come to life. Ah, Tech, if only you knew... I could hear you talking all day".

Tech blushes instantly; slipping out of your mind and trying to hide the way hearing you "talk" about him is making him feel. He must have gotten something wrong. You evidently still enjoy spending time with him; you... Care. Those first thoughts he read from you last time must have been born of your own insecurities; insecurities he would try to help you leave behind.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You like when the cockpit is at it's maximum capacity. It means you're able to watch Tech with other posible distractions claiming his attention; masking your unwavering interest. Right now, for example, he's listening to Wrecker's and Omega's chattering; making a few brief interventions here and there. He's also piloting The Marauder back to Ord Mantell; and shooting some carefully concerned glances at Hunter, who was injured in The Batch's last mission in Targa. He has always been an expert at multitasking.

You, on the other hand, are focused on just one thing; Tech himself. How his hair is slightly ruffled after the mission, and the way his eyes seem to softly shine with the hyperspace lights. His pouty lips; and the way his long legs look when he spreads his knees apart, turning in the direction of his brothers once The Marauder is set on autopilot.

Fuck, how you wish you could be standing -or kneeling- between those legs...

Tech suddenly stutters in his speech, his cheeks blushing perhaps as a result of something one of his brother's had said. It pulls you out of your thoughts for a minute; your eyes focusing on how cute he looks with the soft tint of embarassment on his face. It's not an expression you often see on him.

You're really helpless when it comes to Tech. Your mind inmediately swings to dirty thoughts; pondering wether he'll get a similar expresion if he'd get flustered at sex. Would he be shy, cheeks set on fire and a timid, adorable wide-eyed expresion on his face? Or would he be as confident and firm as usual, making you melt at his feet with a few caresses and well aimed words? You'd be eager to please him either way, that's for sure.

Tech stands up abruptly; clearing his throat nervously, face impossibly flushed now. His eyes flicker everywhere around the room, and he inmediately makes a hasty exit muttering a rushed excuse. Your eyes trail after him in concern; asking the rest of The Batch about him in case you got lost on something important that would explain his sudden and unexpected retreat.

"What was that?" you whisper to his brothers, half confused and half concerned.

Hunter's eyes snap back at you. He looks uncomfortable; shifting in his place.

"You tell me" he answers, criptycally, inmediately turning his attention to Meg.

What does that even mean? He... He couldn't have known what you were thinking about, could he? Well, with how perceptive he is, perhaps he might have guessed the direction of your thoughts with those heightened senses of his... But certainly not Tech, right? He's smart, yes, but you hadn't been that obvious, had you? Or were your thoughts so clearly written in your face?

Wrecker bumps his shoulder into yours, trying to integrate you into the conversation and diffuse the sudden weird atmosphere that had set around you. You shoot him a soft smile; though your mind is still being pulled in Tech's direction, who had all but ran away to hide in the bunks.

••••••••��•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tech had been fighting your thoughts for one whole month now. And fighting was the apropiate word; because it had been madenning difficult to focus on anything else but the way you seem to lose your atention on the outside word when you focus on him. It had been a complete shock at first; his mind needing a few days to process this change of perspective. The realisation that your only problem with him was that you liked him a bit too much, that he made you impossibly nervous, had been hard to accept. Tech would have thought you'd go for someone like Hunter; but no, you were utterly interested in him. He didn't really understand why at first; but as weeks passed, he had listen to all kind of thoughts about him -from sincere admiration to soft tenderness to hungry lust-, and he guessed he could understand your reasons now.

Needless to say, he had been a mess. He was always so composed; but your thoughts about him had shattered his control to pieces. He spent most of his days either flustered, or lost in your own thoughts; to the point the rest of his brothers had noticed it. Hunter, who knew exactly what was going on, had encouraged him to bring the conversation to you; but even if he knew how you saw him, he was still a bit unsure. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable; and he still felt guilty of invading your privacy. What if you got furious at him? Never wanted to see him again? That would be heartbreaking.

The situation couldn't continue for much longer, though; he was distracted, and he needed to be focused on their missions -to keep all of them as safe as possible-. He had no other option than to confront you. Though perhaps... perhaps his way of going about it wasn't the most wise.

Hunter had gone to Cid's to deliver their part of the deal; while Wrecker and Omega had decided to celebrate with a few games of dejarik and Mantel Mix. Echo, though tired, had tagged along as well; if only for keeping a responsible eye on them. You had claimed to be tired as well; so you had stayed in The Marauder with him.

You were currently sitting next to Tech; watching him tinker about with an old datapad of his he was trying to fix so Omega could have her own one. He could feel the weight of your stare on his face; momentarily glancing down at his hands each handfull of minutes. The tension was palpable between the two of you; and Tech couldn't help but tune in into your thoughts once again. You were practically screaming them to him...

"Fuck, look at those fingers... So long and skilled... He really does have beautiful hands. If only I could feel them on me..."

Tech feels a small rush of excitement slowly igniting inside of him. He tries to focus on the task at hand; a futile attempt. Your thoughts keeps slipping onto his mind.

"Inside me. Fuck, wish I could feel them inside me. Clench on them while he licks my clit with his tongue and I could dig my fingers into his hair, push him against me, and he'd get me ready for his cock and... Oh, god, what would his cock feel like?"

Tech is so dizzy with the raw hunger and need laced in your words he blurts out an answer without wanting too.

"I wouldn't be opposed to trying that".

He realises, far too late, that his thought hand't stayed in the safe privacy of his mind; but exposed out loud for you to hear as well. His eyes widen in surprise.

"W-what?" you stutter, terrified of having spoken your own thoughts out loud.

Tech blushes and watches you nervously. The cat is out of the bag, now.

"I-I... Please forgive me, you were thinking very loudly and I could not help but listening in and..." he explains hurriedly, your expresion only switching from confused terror to terrified surprise.

"What do you mean? You... You can read people's mind?" You almost squeak, shocked at not having heard of any of this until now.

Tech nods, guiltily, and the realisation of your crush being aware of all you've fantasized about him makes your cheeks burn in pure embarassment.

"I'm sorry!" you inmediately apologise, wanting nothing more than to stand up and run away. "I-I..."

"It is not your fault" Tech inmediately cuts in, taking a deep, calming breath as if he is nervous himself. "There is nothing for you to apologise for. In fact, I am the one who should. Please forgive me, mesh'la. I did not intend to invade your privacy like this. I first thought you had a problem with me, and so I peaked into your mind twice to figure out why, and... And I should have stopped there, but the way you continued to stare at me made me curious and... I'm sorry, mesh'la".

You soften at the honesty of his words; and the affectionate way he calls you beautiful in Mando'a. You glance up at him cautiously; embarassment slowly melting away with his positive reaction.

"So you're not... You're not uncomfortable, then?"

Tech's cheeks are still slightly red; though he forces his eyes to stay on yours.

"No. It was a shock at first, I must admit; but your thoughts have never made me felt that way. Nervous, distracted, turned on... Yes, but not uncomfortable" he pauses and carefully adds "like I said, I wouldn't be opposed to try any of them".

You almost jump at the chance; but there's something else holding you back. You don't want this to be a one time thing. You don't want this to be merely sexual. He knows all your thoughts on this; it's just fair you get to find his.

"Did you... Did you hear all the non-sexual thoughts about you too? About us?" you ask him quietly.

Tech responds to your vulnerability with a warm smile. His hand slowly reaches down to yours; sending a shiver through your spine.

"I did. And I'd like to try those as well, cyare" he whispers, a confesion that stays just between the two of you.

Your heart soars; the explosive rush of happiness pushing a radiant smile on your face, happy tears on your eyes.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes" you chant in your head. And then, in case he's listening... "Kiss me, Tech".

You catch a brief glimpse of his answering smile before his lips join yours in a soft, passionate kiss. You sigh into him, melting against the carefull hands that slowly come up to craddle one side of your face and your left hip. Tech hums in contentment. His own swirl of excited, tender thoughts mix with the ones that slips from your mind into his. You kiss and kiss; and the passion and affection burning in both of you is so similar he does not longer differentiate in between.

THE END.

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You can read the other prompts for the 100celeb here:

And you have a lot of other clone wars and bad batch stories here: