#it was just style over substance with this one

[seeingivy]

espresso

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: espresso by sabrina carpenter

--

--

you don’t feel attached to every song that you write. and most of the time, there’s songs that you scrap for various reasons – the songs you write just to write something, ones that don’t fit on the record that you’re producing or the vibe you’re going for, or the ones that you lockbox into a vault, for your eyes and your eyes only. 

at certain times, it was to remind yourself what it feels like to write and flex the muscles associated with it in your brain. just a way to combat writer's block when it plagued you. at other times, the words were pouring out of you, so fast that you felt like your hands couldn’t even keep up with what was spinning through your mind. 

some songs were too personal. there was an air to them, something that was being said that you had to keep to yourself, keep buried in your chest because no one was entitled to those thoughts but you. 

other songs had no substance at all. filled with embellishment at the very least – just sweet singing and good production in the background. you couldn’t care less about them. 

they varied. existed in abundance. and when mimi found out about it, she made a simple proposition that you agreed to, after much discussion. 

when you signed on with studio eleven, you made negotiation deals for mechanical and performance royalties for songs that you weren’t too attached to. you gave free reign for other people to take your songs and perform them, change them up a little bit to fit their style, as long as you were still cited as the writer and got money for every time it was performed. 

you can still hear mimi’s words in your mind – if you’re doing the work, why not get paid for it? 

in the beginning, you felt possessive. that those were your words, and your words only, so why should someone else be entitled to sing them? but as time went on, you became more malleable to giving up control over it and sharing. soft encouraging words from mimi about money, getting on the good side of other creators, mixed in with every other reason that made you sign it all away. 

most of the time, it worked out fine. gave a few of the associated signed artists something to perform, to add in the middle of their record, and that put a little bit of money in your pocket. 

hell, sometimes you even got credited in award nominations for it. 

the current situation that you’re in though, seething over the fact that aimee will be performing this song with jake in two days, is the exact reason you didn’t want to sell your songs. 

they’d fall into the wrong hands. they’d be used against you. they wouldn’t be yours anymore, not in the ways that it mattered at least. 

the proposition meant that aimee lynch could buy one of your songs – one of the songs that you wrote about jake, with jake – and claim that she was the one who wrote it. that she was the one who wrote it with him. 

that the things you wanted to keep close to your chest would be for everyone to listen, interpret, and manipulate. other people could claim your feelings as their own, your thoughts, your words as something that they made out of thin air. something that they felt. 

that was the feeling that caused the most anger. the searing pain, that made you see blood red. having something stolen from you. again. 

“there has to be some rules about this type of thing. she can’t claim that it’s her intellectual property and say that she wrote it, can she?” eren asks. 

mimi shakes her head. after almost an hour and a half of questioning, from three very overbearing and well meaning friends, had fried her brain – you could tell that much.

you suppose that she should count herself lucky that megumi wasn’t able to attend due to his pr events, because without fail, he was always the worst of the bunch. and had a horrendous problem with mincing his words. 

“technically, they did credit y/n as one of the writers on the song if you look. i’m guessing that they changed a few lyrics here and there, since aimee and jake are listed as writers too.” mimi responds. 

“jake was an original writer on that song. we wrote it together.” you seethe. 

that’s the last time you share your songs with anyone. 

you can see historia and mikasa exchange a look with one another from the corner of your eye, something you guess is warranted by the vitriol laced in your voice. they were always wary when it came to these types of things, always a little nervous when it came to anger that you held in a reserve, that was almost never ending. 

they were shocked at how angry you could get. and while any rational part of your mind would be inclined to take a step back like they suggested, out of good faith of their concern, your anger always won out. 

most of the time, it felt like sheer spite was the only thing that kept you going. it was something that worked for you – so why would you do something else? 

“she’s allowed to change lyrics that y/n wrote?” mikasa asks. 

mimi shrugs. 

“it’s kind of murky waters when you take someone’s song as your own. they’re the ones who recorded and produced it, and since they properly credited as they were supposed to, so they can kind of do whatever they want.” mimi responds. 

eren groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he flops down on the couch next to you. 

“we can’t really police what they say. if she wants to say that she wrote the song with jake, there’s nothing that we can really say about that. she’s omitting information, for sure, but we…we can’t do anything about her lying.” mimi states, the tone in her voice final. 

“this wasn’t even one of the songs that she decided to sell. jake just handed it over to aimee because she asked, i’m assuming? they don’t have to ask for y/n’s permission?” historia asks. 

mimi pauses. 

“i’m assuming they got the same patent as the ones for the other songs, someone at the record label must have signed off on giving it up just because they assumed it was one of the scrapped songs. they couldn’t have taken it unless someone signed off on it here.” 

you can feel your eye twitch. 

“find whoever that is. who signed the song away.” you state. 

mimi shoots you one last apologetic smile as she leaves the room, pressing the phone to her ear as she slips through the door, and you sink down into the couch. knowing her, she was going to try her best to do damage control behind the scenes for whoever did sign your song away, just to save face and make sure that someone didn't lose their job.

her immediate retreat is one that sends historia and mikasa to their legs – their hands basically shoving eren to the side as the four of you squish onto the couch, their heads nestled against each of your shoulders. 

“what do you think happened? i mean…fully?” mikasa asks, the tone in her voice overexerted with an air of caution. 

you sigh. there was always more that met the eye with aimee lynch. things were always perfectly calculated, against your favor, and were never just from a sheer lack of dumb luck like she made it seem. 

you learned that the hard way. 

“if i’m guessing right, jake must have been really mad when i ended things with him. things were bad for a while and we basically fought the entire time at the end.” you state. 

“about?” mikasa asks. 

you shrug. 

“he’s really good friends with aimee or became really good friends with aimee towards the end of our relationship. seems she had some newfound interest in him. i…i had given him some idea of what she did and that it made me uncomfortable, but i guess she was pretty adamant and told him things on the side as well. he basically told me that he was allowed to be friends with whoever he wanted to be friends with and i couldn’t stop him.” you respond.  

“why he’d want to be friends with her is lost to me in the first place.” eren states. 

��either way, i’m assuming his ego is just hurt which is why he’s so keen on biting back right now. you know, with obsessed and everything. i’m sure he’s convinced that i loved him so much that i wouldn’t drag his name through the mud, even though he was the one who did it to me first.”

you pause. 

“it’s entirely intentional too. he knows that i wanted to release state of grace as one of the songs for the next album, him and aimee probably talked to someone here through her dad, and got the song first since i had already recorded the demo and given the lyrics.” you respond. 

“first things first, once mimi finds out whoever it was, they have to get fired.” historia responds. 

you nod thoughtfully.

“any ideas for a song?” mikasa asks. 

you shake your head. 

“i’m not sure if that’s the right move here. only because they both know me so well.” 

after almost six years of making music, there were certain fast facts and facets of the music industry that you learned very quickly. 

first and foremost – it was almost never about the music. not about the art. at least not for anyone else that was attached to the music besides the songwriters and the producers. 

the first priority is to get signed with a record label. the second priority is to make sure that you stay signed with your label – meaning you have to meet certain quotas, have your albums reach a certain standard of commercial success, and getting nominated for a few awards here and there. 

second – some music sells and some music doesn’t. if you find something that sells, you have to hold on to it and make sure that it doesn’t run off. even if that means being repetitive, even if that means creating songs that are similar – against your better creative instincts. 

there was one thing that you found out quickly. people loved love songs. but loved when you made angry, spiteful ballads aimed at people you were fighting with even more. 

and third – the image is everything. if you’re able to successfully market yourself – market the image and the persona – the fans will lead you to success. in your case, you had pinned the image down to a perfect craft. 

it was simple. people weren’t too fond of you. granted, that was a given – with so many people in the industry, there was bound to be some disagreements. ex-boyfriends who irritated you, talked about you in the press and sullied your good name. 

and your response was always the same. writing scathing songs about them, leaving hints and details in the lyrics and music videos so people would know that you were talking about them, so that it would give people something to talk about – and more importantly, a reason to listen. 

an image so perfectly curated that new releases almost promised attention, because people knew that you would be saying something in response to what had been floating around about you. 

it worked well in your favor most of the time. but you were fighting fire with fire on this one, because aimee lynch is surely the type to retaliate, someone well versed on your public image since she was the one who helped you curate it.

“i would obviously feel inclined to write a song about them, but i feel like they’re smarter than that. knowing them, they’ve probably stolen another song that they’re planning on using against me after the fact.” you mumble. 

there’s a dejected sigh from the group of them. 

“i can tell that she puts a lot of thought into the little cat and mouse game that the two of you play all the time.” mikasa states. 

“i fear she has nothing else to do besides play games with me. and it helps her image, which only gives her more reason to do it at this point. i know better than anyone that drama sells.” you respond. 

eren pushes up off the couch, pacing around the room and haphazardly messing with his air, as he thinks out loud.

you’re not sure why he does it, because every solution that he offers is some type suggestion involving a violent interaction where you shut her up for good. 

and while you would be inclined to take his advice, you avoid it against your better judgment. even your anger had its limits.

“can’t you steal her song back or something? talk to someone at dancing lady and do it right back?” eren asks. 

“as if they would give up a song of hers so freely. i’m sure they’d all go running and tell her dad right away.” you murmur. 

“you just have to hit her where it hurts, you know? like she’s clearly trying to make a point by taking something of yours, so you just have to do it back.” historia states. 

you scoff. 

“cool. let me just go steal her generational multi-million music empire while i’m at it.” you state. 

historia rolls her eyes. 

“you know i didn’t mean it like that. but you know, you just have to find some way to make her look like an idiot. someone who isn’t scared of her and isn’t particularly fond of her either, you know?” historia asks. 

that’s when the thought comes back to your head. the exact words that had been said to you only a day prior, that were entirely lost to you in the mix of the aimee mess. 

“trust me, the thing that pissed her off the most about me is that i didn’t take her side and took yours instead, y/n. you just have to find someone that will rally on your side that would drop her like that.” historia finishes, snapping her fingers in the air for effect. 

she doesn't even finish her sentence before you're running out the door to the closest studio.  

--

--

“you’re so skilled with balls.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes, only to turn to his left and find what might be his most agitating co-star, satoru gojo. 

“you have to know you sound like an idiot when you say that.” sukuna states. 

satoru frowns. 

“what did i say wrong?” he asks, the hint of a gleaming smile in his eye. 

“you should invest in a tape recorder. listen to the tape back at the end of the day and do some reflection.” sukuna states, shoving the bottle of gatorade against his chest. 

sukuna would rather die than tell satoru that he was his personal favorite to film scenes and do press with. there’s a plethora of things, irritatingly enough, that make sukuna so fond of satoru. 

the fact that he was so skilled at interviews, that without asking, he spoke well of sukuna despite the backlash that he was currently receiving, that he tried to support him in anyway that he could.

even if sukuna made missteps, he would never be one to say anything about it. only the one to pick him up and bring him back. 

“did you ever think about going pro? you’re kind of good at this shit.” satoru states. 

“i’m not that good. you guys are all just terrible.” sukuna responds. 

that much was obvious from how badly the other team was losing. and the fact that half of them had fell face first onto the court already. 

in their last few days of press, the marketing team for the show decided that the select members of cast were going to be participating in a charity all-stars basketball game. it was one of the most anticipated events of the year, with celebrities being on both teams, and special surprise performances for the halftime show. 

the combined sales of the tickets, signed jerseys, and meet and greets raised tens of thousands of dollars, and all in all, it was one of the better events that sukuna found himself being forced to attend. he liked meeting the kids, getting to sign jerseys for people who had chosen to buy his, and getting to take pictures with fans. 

he liked the company at the event a little less. considerably less. sukuna looks over to the other side of the court and catches sight of kim and aimee on the other side of the court, posing for the camera by pressing a kiss to each other’s cheeks, before leaning back in their chair, entirely bored.

the glee filled expressions were dropped the second the camera man walked away, something he had seen more than a hundred times before. 

satoru follows sukuna’s line of vision, before smacking him on the back. 

“did you talk to them?” satoru asks. 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“shoyo would like…skin me alive. and i’d rather keep it lowkey for today since the premiere is tomorrow.” sukuna responds. 

satoru nods, almost like he’s mulling the thought over. sukuna finds himself distracted all together, only because it’s the first time that sukuna’s able to ogle this jake character in the real light. 

he finds it odd that someone as accomplished and skilled as you would ever consider dating him in the first place. he’s not entirely sure what you saw in him.

“satoru?” 

“yeah?” 

“what do you know about that guy?” sukuna asks, pointing over to where he’s seated on the bench, using a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

“who? oikawa?” satoru asks. 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“next to him.” sukuna states. 

“jake?” satoru asks. 

sukuna nods. 

“just that he’s full of shit.” satoru states. 

“well i could have parsed that much out myself, dumbass.” sukuna responds, shoving him in the side. 

the lights in the stadium immediately dim, pink lights focused on the center of the court, and fog machines encasing the entire floor in a translucent sheen. there’s a booming voice that comes out of the speakers, that nearly makes sukuna jump out of his seat from being startled. 

“ladies and gentleman, please welcome our very last performer, our very special half-time show guest, y/n l/n.” 

sukuna nearly jolts up in his chair as the lights flash in the center of the court – to the sight of you wearing a light pink crew neck and a white tennis skirt – with a light pink ribbon tangled into your hair. 

sukuna grabs satoru by the collar, all but pulling up to stand close to him, so he can whisper in his ear. 

“was she always on the setlist?” sukuna asks. 

“don’t think so. i would have remembered that.” satoru mumbles back. 

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso 

sukuna supposes that it should be a bad sign that this is the second time in a few days that he finds himself being mesmerized by your presence.

and he figures that it’s a good sign that the two of you have ended up in the same room, at the same time – so he can make his case again. he could mastermind something if he thought about it hard enough. 

“dude. you’re like fucking drooling.” satoru  whispers. 

“shut the fuck up.” sukuna responds, shoving him to the side as he leans forward, trying to glean a closer look. 

past his line of vision, sukuna can spot three very irritated faces. jake, kim, and aimee – matching scrunched up irritation on their faces, each of them typing very fast on his phone. he knew enough about you to know what you were doing here – trying to spite them right to their faces. 

Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya 

sukuna watches as you turn around, obscuring his sight of the three of them, and look right at him. sukuna can’t help but do it again, absentmindedly lift his hand to wave at you just like he did a few days prior – at the very least, just to get confirmation that you really are looking at him – just to get exactly what he wants. 

you wink back, sparing a laugh into the microphone as you stop singing and throw the sparkly microphone in your hand to one of your backup dancers. 

sukuna can feel his heart pounding in his chest – no, he can feel it drop to his stomach – as he watches you pull the pink crewneck over your head, only to reveal that you’re wearing his jersey – the jersey with his last name embossed on the back – underneath. 

it’s one of the most overwhelming feelings he’s had, a wholehearted and blissful exhilaration that pounds in his chest, coupled with the fact that there’s a resounding sound of cheers that erupt after the fact are music to his fucking ears. 

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen

Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya

“you’re such a dick. you weren’t going to tell us all that you guys were dating?” satoru asks. 

sukuna swallows hard.

did this mean that the two of you were dating? 

“hey, earth to fucking dumbass. are you so mesmerized that you can’t form a sentence?” suguru  asks, joining him at his side, the tone in his voice teasing as sukuna shakes his head. 

sukuna can’t even muster an irritated look to give back to satoru. or a retort back to suguru. only because he’s too elated, too excited that you’ve agreed with his plan – if that’s what this meant. 

“who fucking wouldn’t be mesmerized by that?” sukuna mutters. 

“that’s real cute, dude. the espresso thing.” suguru states. 

“what espresso thing?” sukuna asks. 

“you know. because you own the coffee shop and shit? isn’t that what she means?” suguru asks. 

of course that’s what you meant. 

if there was one thing he learned from the interviews and songs that he listened to, it was that you didn’t do things haphazardly. that every move that you made was intentional, because you knew people would connect the dots.

meaning, that at the very least, you were acting in his favor right now. and had agreed to be his girlfriend. 

sukuna can feel his heart pounding as you give one last wave to the cheering crowds, yanking your ear pieces out and letting them hang around your shoulders as you walk up to him. the sweet grin that you give him is one that sukuna can’t help but return. 

he’s so happy he might just kiss you on the spot right now. 

you place your hands behind your back as you give sukuna a sweet smile. only to turn immediately to his left and look at satoru. he can't help but feel dejected.

“hi.” you state. 

he watches as satoru spits the gatorade back into the bottle, before standing up and running his hands through his hair. sukuna narrows his eyes at satoru and prays to god that this isn’t the time that he chooses to be an idiot. 

“hi?” 

you extend your hand out.

“i’m y/n.” 

there’s a sudden irritation in sukuna’s chest that suddenly festers when satoru lifts your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss against your hand. 

“satoru. satoru gojo.” he responds. 

you give him a smile. 

“cute.” 

you try not to relish in the way that sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek, trying his best to hide his frustration, as you look up at satoru. 

“to be honest, i kind of came here with an ulterior motive.” you state. 

“my favorite kind of motive.” satoru responds. 

you walk over to satoru’s side, linking your hand in with his as you stand in between him and sukuna and point to the other side of the court. 

“you see that empty black seat right there?” 

“next to aimee lynch?” 

“that’s my seat.” 

satoru looks down at you, as he leans forward.

“we can’t have you sitting there.” he whispers. 

“only if you insist.” you offer. 

satoru puts his bottle down and you watch as he retreats to the other side to retrieve the chair, as you turn over to sukuna and give him a bright grin. you can tell that sukuna’s making his best efforts to glare at you, but the smile on his face is deceiving him. 

“hi lavagirl.” you state. 

sukuna grins in response. 

“her hair is a little more neon than mine, but it’s always a pleasure, sharkboy.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a smile, noting the flashing cameras at your side, as you bring your hands forward, holding the sharpie up in between the two of you. 

“what’s this?” sukuna asks. 

“i got one of the last jerseys. it wasn’t signed.” you ask. 

sukuna feigns shock, crouching down so that the two of you could be eye to eye. it’s the first time that you think about how much taller he is than you. 

“my poor baby. we can’t have that, now can we?” sukuna jests. 

you shake your head as sukuna smiles, taking the pen from your fingers, before signaling for you to turn around with his pointer finger. 

and it makes you shiver as he places one of his hands on your shoulder, taking the time to move the hair to the side of your shoulder before scribbling on your back. and that burning warmth that pools in your stomach gets even worse as his breath tickles your neck, before he leans over and presses a kiss to the nape of your neck. 

“one thing.” he whispers. 

you swallow hard, the whisper in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

“what’s that?” 

you watch as satoru walks up, placing the chair right next to his, as you and sukuna shoot him a smile. 

“try to rile me up and it’ll be more than that next time.”

you turn around, rolling your eyes at him, as you stand on the tips of your toes, leaning against his shoulder as you press a lingering kiss to his cheek. you can feel people lifting their phones to take a picture from your peripheral vision, as you pull back. 

satoru returns with the chair and doesn’t return alone, because aimee and jake are right behind him, hands balled into fists at their side as they walk right up to the two of you. sukuna seems to get the hint at the same time as you do, as he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you closer as they approach. 

“y/n. sukuna.” aimee states, acknowledging your presence as she crosses her hands over her chest. 

“what can i do for you, satan?” sukuna asks. 

“what the hell is this?” aimee asks. 

sukuna looks down at you, offering you a confused look, before looking back at her. 

“me congratulating my girlfriend after her performance? what the fuck does it look like?” sukuna asks. 

girlfriend. you can tell that the word doesn’t roll over well, with either of them. but it sends the blood rushing right to your head, the warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“girlfriend? you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” aimee scoffs. 

“do i look like i’m kidding to you?” sukuna deadpans. 

“this is how you repay me after everything i did for you?” aimee asks. 

sukuna gives her a confused look. 

“what the hell did you do for me? besides give me a herpes scare?” 

you laugh into your hand, particularly at the fact that jake’s eyes go wide at his words. 

“i’d get checked if i were you dude. you never know.” sukuna adds, giving jake a smile. 

aimee turns over to you, pointing an accusatory finger your way, as she gives you a cold glare, a glare that you’ve seen hundreds of time, one that you used to cower to at one point. 

“you better watch yourself.” 

“she’s fine where she is. i’d suggest you fuck off while you’re ahead and quit embarrassing yourself the way you are.” sukuna responds. 

aimee rolls her eyes. 

“i hope that you know that i cheated on you with jake the entire time that we were together. while he was dating y/n.” aimee responds. 

sukuna laughs. 

“and i hope you know that i was never really into you in the first place. why would i be when she’s around?” sukuna responds back. 

you’re not sure if sukuna knows what he’s done. if he intentionally rubbed salt into the wound, into the exact wound that’s caused you so much pain at aimee's hands, but you can’t help but linger on it.

"don't forget that i was the one who broke up with you. not the other way around." sukuna states.

you ignore it. only because the pouty face that she makes as she retreats is one that fills you with so much joy, that has sukuna smiling down at you like he's the sun.

“do you want me to beat him up for you?” sukuna asks. 

“who, jake? he didn’t even say anything.” you respond. 

sukuna squints his eyes at you. 

“she just mentioned that he was cheating on you. and i’m figuring it’s with the last person that you would have wanted it to be.” 

“i mean. yeah.” you respond. “i’ll repeat. do you want me to beat him up?” sukuna asks. 

you shrug. 

“eh. not worth the trouble. sure his ego is bruised enough as it is.” 

sukuna narrows his eyes at you again, the whistle of the referee sending him back to the court as he presses one last kiss to your knuckles and you take a seat on the chair on the side of the court that satoru pulled up for you.

you aimlessly scroll through the texts on your phone. 

[mika]: WTF WERE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT 

[mika]: BRO SHE LOOKED SO PISSED

[hisu]: you’re so right he IS KIND OF CUTE

[hisu]: also song was TEWWW GOOD. you’re so beautiful i love you so much don’t ever die.

[eren]: I don’t see it. 

[mika]: shut up eren 

[megs]: Are you dating, Sukuna?

[megs]: I didn't even realized that you guys knew each other.

you look up from your phone to focus back on the game, only to find you’ve started paying attention at an opportune time. because you swear sukuna sticks his leg out to trip jake, sending him falling right to his face right as he runs past.

your suspicions are confirmed when sukuna gets flagged for it. you can tell that he doesn't seem to care too much, only because the smile on his face betrays him.

--

--

an: two dream girl chapters oopsie

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[imageingrunge]

i think DATV is pretty enough to stand on its own (despite the import choices) so new players wont even know they've been robbed but i'd be lying if i said it didn't sting!!! So you mean to tell me if i exiled the wardens from Orlais in DAI and they go off to start a civil war in Wiesshaupt then that doesn't get mentioned even 10 years afterwards when I am AT wiesshaupt not even as idle npc chatter? No silly little statue there w some vague wording of "in honor of (insert name here) the HoF savior of the 5th blight" ? There is no point in trying to get the best outcome for WEWH anymore bc who rules over Orlais gets no mention at all? I gotta make it all up?? not even a letter u can find stuffed in a crate near the docks w a little update abt Orlais?? If you romanced Solas and drank his ex's bathwater thinking that was gonna add some spice some angst well then that's just too damn bad I guess 😭. We weren't asking for dramatic cinematic changes but the writers couldn't be bothered to write some codexs and have to condescend to us on twitter abt how "oh you wouldn't want us to bring back cameos like that remember what happen when we put Alistar back in DAI something bad always happens hehe"

[thedevotionaltour]

in terms of art alone im sorry. im a jrjr defender to my last breath you be fucking nice to him. i dont wanna hear shit❗️❗️❗️

[icterid-rubus]

Did I miss something, what happened to Masi Oka in Bullet Train. Did he get off at some point or evaporate into thin air?

[dadsbongos]

local adventurers get body swapped and fuck sloppy style

2.5 K words / warnings - unprotected pinv sex, fem body for reader, oral (m+f receiving), slight choking, pwp, not super proofread

summary - something something marcille and senshi need medicinal herbs… its not important. you and chilchuck and laios get it on in each other's bodies

~~~

“Laios, I don’t know if you should touch those…”

“He definitely shouldn’t!”

Laios touches the vibrant orange flower petals, grazing his fingertips from the outer curl towards the neon yellow stigma, “I think if I press right here, then…”

“Laios!” Chilchuck shrieks at the same time you gasp, “No!”

A yellow powder spews from the now gaping stigma, clogging Laios’ entire head. In your shared panic to rescue the man, you and Chilchuck also inhale traces of the pollen. It tastes unexpectedly sweet, like ripe apples fresh from their tree -- it’s also incredibly disorienting. Head spinning and throat tight, you’re forced to clench your eyes while stumbling for either of the familiar bodies you’d arrived with.

You find one -- cold metal flattening your palm, though it’s strange -- what you’re touching is only the waist of Laios’ cuirass, but you’re reaching up. Your fingers just barely graze the lip of his arm opening.

Certain you’re not kneeling, and now uncertain that you’re sane, you open your eyes to gaze into the beaming reflection of… yourself. But this version of you has her hands skimming down her sides, nails biting the pouch over your tummy.

Glancing up, you find brown fingerless gloves covering your hand. You also find that you have to really stretch your neck to look up at Laios, who is staring down at you with a disturbed flinch.

“Laios?”

It's your own voice that heeds, “Yeah?”

Slowly, you swing your(?) head to face yourself, eyes wide, “Laios?”

“Yeah?”

With an uncertain, shivery hand, you point up at the armored blonde, “Chilchuck…?”

Laios’ voice whispers back your name before gently pleading, “Get out of my body…”

“I don’t know how!” you wail, tugging on brown hair just to feel the sting that confirms this isn’t some horrible nightmare, “Laios, what’d you do?!”

“If you squeeze this flower right, then it goes into self-defense mode and releases a pollen-like substance that switches people’s souls and bodies. Pretty neat, right?” his excitement with the flower is interrupted by a more carnal curiosity, “Can I feel?” he hovers your own hands over your chest and makes a squeezing motion, “I wonder if they’re as squishy as they look?”

“Sure…”

“Yay,” he murmurs, immediately latching to your chest, “Your breasts are so soft, and warm.”

“Thanks,” your naturally gentle tonation sounds odd, dissonant with Chilchuck’s agitated and shrill voice.

“Don’t let him fondle you!” Chilchuck, bizarrely, sounds natural in Laios’ body. Loud and resolute, “That’s so inappropriate!”

“I don’t mind, Chilchuck, really.”

“And don’t say my name with my own voice!”

“Sorry…”

“I wonder how you feel inside.”

Disturbed, you and Chilchuck’s heads turn toward where Laios continues to grope your (his?) chest -- his breaths shortening to gasps and lip sucked between his teeth.

“What’d you just say?” Chilchuck points a shaky finger at Laios.

If Laios finds looking himself in the face strange, he makes no indication. Merely beaming at Chilchuck in his body and shrugging while squeezing your boobs, “Isn’t it so cool that just pollen can swap us so perfectly? Why wouldn’t we try to explore each other’s bodies in a situation like this?”

Chilchuck’s embarrassment makes Laios’ cheeks flare red hot, an annoyed huff spiking past his clenched teeth, “It’ll only make things worse for the party in the long run! Inter-party romance is a terrible idea!”

“It’s not romance, just investigation.”

Before a punch can be thrown from the flustered Chilchuck, you lay a lithe hand on either man’s shoulder (pushing into the back of your mind how strange it is to call a hand smaller than your own yours), “Laios, you have to see how strange that sounds to people not as… curious as you.”

“But I’ve always wanted to know how your bodies work,” Laios frowns, “I get that we’re all humans, so it's basically the same thing and not as interesting, but when it comes to you two I just can’t help it. I want to know how soft your mouths are and how your joints roll in action,” he then peers specifically at Chilchuck, batting your lashes pathetically, “Especially your body, Chil, since I rarely see you do more than deactivate traps.”

“That’s because that’s my job! I don’t fight!”

“Chilchuck, he’s not judging you,” you move the hand on his shoulder down to his hand, Laios’ large palm massively overwhelming Chilchuck’s -- you’re captivated by the difference, “If Laios had a problem with you not fighting, I’m sure you wouldn’t still be in the party.”

“I just want to know how you both feel,” you could cringe at the sound of your voice saying something so naughty, but for the sake of Laios’ feelings you don’t, “Inside and out.”

“Did you consider how that’d be for us? Having to look our own faces in their face during something like that.”

“Like what? I just want to poke,” Laios stretches your fingers with a wiggle, “Maybe some fingering.”

That’d be more believable if Laios wasn’t such a terrible liar, his tells making your back straightening impossibly and knees buckling. Laios starkly dodges both yours and Chilchuck’s scrutinizing stares.

“We know you better than that. You’ll wanna go all out,” despite your inclination to give Laios the benefit of doubt, you’re forced to nod alongside Chilchuck’s accusation.

“Is that so bad?”

Is it?

You’re not as anatomically intrigued as Laios (at least pretends to be), but you can’t lie to yourself and say the men aren’t attractive. Laios is beefy yet kind, piercing amber eyes and soft blonde hair -- his arms look perfect for holding you down as he impales you with his cock. Chilchuck is slight and nimble, big brown eyes with thick lashes and silver hairs sprinkled through brown locks -- his dominable frame would be easy to ride until he’s got tears in his eyes and pleas flowing from his fussy lips.

“I don’t think so,” you move, stepping over to Laios’ side, “I think it could be worth a try.”

“No way!” Chilchuck glares at you for your betrayal, “There is no chance I’d ever do something so depraved!”

.

.

.

“This is so weird…” Chilchuck whines from Laios’ throat, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sight before him.

You, in Chilchuck’s own body, knelt beside Laios occupying your body as you both lick over his flushed erection. Laios seems to show no shyness, eagerly teasing your soft lips across his skin until he’s tonguing the underside. Meanwhile, you’ve got the smoldering head twitching on your tongue -- suckling softly before releasing your lips with a pop and laving the side with attention. Eventually, Laios bores of kitten licks and lowers towards the balls, giving you room to suck his penis into your mouth fully.

Chilchuck winds a hand, larger than he’s used to controlling, through your hair, peeking under his spare arm to watch Laios abuse your likeness. Blinking sweetly and humming while warming his own nuts with gurgled saliva. With advanced hearing, you can make out even the minute sound of Laios’ inferior gag reflex choking on his own balls.

You can also make out the deep rumble of Chilchuck panting and swallowing around his own arousal, lodged in his throat. Hoping to coax out the desire, you relax your gullet and bury your nose against flaxen pubes, making Chilchuck shudder and buck further into your throat.

“Oh, fuck,” he sighs, squeezing tighter around brown hair and shaking out your head before wrenching you back, “Wanna fuck your face.”

If you didn’t want him to as well, you’d be busy pointing out how your face is really his.

Instead, you moan eagerly and let your mouth hang open. Digging blunt nails into the handles on his hips for leverage as Chilchuck snaps into your gaping, velvety mouth. Spit gurgles past the rim of your lips, your sudden super hearing picking up every soft, throaty groan that spills from his chest. Despite his every effort to drown the sounds in kisses with Laios, you hear it -- you even hear how their lips mesh above your head.

Silky moans let out by your own voice, it’s startling. And arousing. Which makes it even more startling.

Chilchuck gasps and huffs abruptly, pulling you back to beat his cock against your puffy, raw lips. His whole body scrunches as broken, spotty moans dribble through him, shooting cum down your throat -- though having to bury his face into Laios’ neck (technically your neck) to avoid seeing his own face swallowing his seed.

With your own voice, heady and ragged with lust, Laios sprawls to the ground with spread legs, “I’m so hot,” he brainlessly bucks up against his roaming hand, eyes snapping to you, “How do you live like this?”

“I’m not horny all the time, Laios!”

Completely bypassing your protest, as per usual, Laios whimpers and undoes your trousers -- tickling a trembling finger down his (your) slit, “I need someone in me, please, please?”

You and Chilchuck stare at each other for a short while, silently debating who would be the one -- with newfound stamina in Laios’ body, Chilchuck could theoretically do it if he felt so greedy. Thankfully, he does not, and reclines beside Laios before pressing kisses into his neck while yanking you over by the belt. With eyes closed, he expertly undoes the pants to pull your brand new cock out.

Calloused, yet warm, hands stroke along your shaft in slow pumps before feeding your (his) tip into Laios.

Yours and Laios’ inexperience at the shared sensation is abundant in how you’re both gasping, sweat-slick messes. Laios wiggles further onto your cock, keening and back arching at the intrusion, while your hands are clammy and shaking on his hips. Your eyes can only stray as high as the breasts before things feel… weird… so you choose instead to obsess over the sight of your cock sliding in and out of a soaked cunt. Messy slick glinting in the sunlight, face melting with need, and all rational thought sucked into the tight clench of Laios.

Whining and leisurely thrusting into Laios, you close your eyes to fully absorb the sensations around you. Still, your heightened hearing can pick up the downright obscene gush of your sloppy, wet cunt being fucked open.

Chilchuck lays beside Laios, making you flinch at the unseen act of tracing his fingers around your cock in Laios to gather the splashing wetness before swirling the sodden pads into Laios’ clit.

“Ah!” your voice spikes, Laios grabbing Chilchuck’s wrist as if he could use your dwindling might to bat off his own strength. Chilchuck grins despite himself and continues abusing the bundle of nerves as desperation makes your drilling speed up. Laios wails and bunts eager hips to meet your thrusts, “Ah, ah, ah, ah- so good! This feels amazing!”

Laios presses the hand not clutching Chilchuck’s against your tummy, fingers prodding where cock batters his insides. Huffy little fuck, fuck, oh fucks leaving pouty, raw-bitten lips.

“Does it feel good?” Chilchuck laughs at you both, his sarcasm only being met with varied, broken ‘uh-huh’ responses. A thought brews in his following silence before he reaches up with a spare hand, “How about this, then?”

Suddenly, Laios’ large hand is wrapped around your neck, pressuring the sides to make your head spin.

Oh.

Oh that shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

Sudden restricted air pushes your hammering hips into overdrive, gut fizzling and tightening until you’re certain you’ll combust from the inside. You squeeze bruises into your own hips as you slam into Laios’ pliant body.

“Oh my God,” he suddenly wails from your mouth, “I think I’m- fuck! - am I?” his breath hitches, eyes wide and thighs cinching around your pumping hips, “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it, then,” Chilchuck snides with lips still pressed to Laios’ neck, rudely pinching his clit, “Cum for us.”

“I’m cumming,” he babbles, throwing his head back, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

Laios’ complete lack of will obliterates your own, the intense milking of his orgasm around you practically pulling cum from your cock. You gasp under Chilchuck’s choking while stuffing Laios full.

As soon as you’ve pulled Chilchuck’s softening cock out, Laios darts a hand down to finger your abused cunt. Puffy lips parting around curious fingers, thighs twitching at the unwelcomed overstimulation. Mixed cum leaks onto his digits before he accidentally brushes a thumb over his own clit, sending his thighs clenching around his hand as he forces another orgasm from your body.

You blink, suddenly much drowsier than before, and when you open your eyes you’re on the ground. With twitching, aching thighs and a hand between your legs.

Before you can acclimate to the realization you’re returned to your proper body, large hands are spreading your thighs again. Laios dives in, much too excited, and licks along your slit with a seedy groan and pinched brows. As if he’s deriving pure pleasure from sucking your combined release out of your pussy. If anything, the unadulterated oddity and grossness confirms that Laios is, in fact, back in his own body.

“I remember you were needing a little something, big guy,” Chilchuck tiredly slumps against Laios’ side, reaching below the belt to tug Laios’ hardening cock, “Guess you do have a lot of stamina.”

“I wanted to taste it on my fingers before we switched back, but now I can have it on my real tongue,” Laios deliriously giggles, “How lucky is that?”

You’re given no pause to respond before he’s returning to tongue-fucking your spasming hole.

Chilchuck presses lazy kissing along Laios’ flushed skin, jostled slightly when Laios abruptly sits straight, bucking his hips into Chilchuck’s fist as he asks, “Can I cum on you? I want to taste us all together. I need to know- !”

“Fine!” you’re borderline shrieking, sniveling and sobbing in the overstimulation, “Yes, yes, cum on my cunt, Laios. Do whatever you want!”

As if waiting permission, once those words are uttered, Laios spurts across your heated groin. He wastes no time basking in his euphoria before drunkenly lapping up his cum dribbling across your pussy and into yours and Chilchuck’s juices.

“Feral,” Chilchuck notes, smearing the excess sperm across Laios’ thigh and collapsing by your side.

Quicker and more violent than you’d like, another orgasm swells from your tummy to your hips. Thighs clapping against Laios’ ears as his tongue lulls out to sap up your cum. Your nails scrape Laios’ scalp as you wrangle him back when you notice him trying to sink in for more.

“Laios, please!” you tiredly protest.

“Off,” Chilchuck says it short and curt, like training a puppy, as he bats Laios’ head.

Laios lifts his head and drops beside you as well, turning onto his side to stare at you both -- hands curled towards his chest for comfort, “That was fun. We should do it again, but with our normal bodies.”

Unbeknownst to Laios, both you and Chilchuck are passed out and tangled around on another. And unknown to all three of you, Marcille and Senshi are coughing and hacking out a plan to crawl out and search for your group on the hunt for medicinal herbs.

[luvwestwood]

"Off Limits" - Gojo Satoru

4,120 words.

warnings. n*sfw (18+), tongue piercing satoru, substance use, satoru is a plug, fuckboy! satoru, oral sex (he eats your pussy OUT) , both characters 🚬 🍃, resolved sexual tension, porn with a BIT of plot, mildly dubious consent, fucking at a party, he makes you squirt

notes. this was originally posted on my ao3, which is much more longer. i've shortened it down and fixed errors I made on ao3 originally (see if you could notice what it is 😭)for tumblr so its more of an easy read! <3

banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig

You had about an hour and half to get ready, before you had to make your way to the Mappa Frat House down the street. Chloe's brother, Satoru, and his friends were inviting you two to some house party they held every year building up to Halloween.

To be real, it took you A LOT of convincing for Chloe to have you come to the party with her. You were never a party person. The thought of throwing up your guts after your system has consumed all types of shit. Or the annoying guys that slap your ass from behind in hopes of getting time with you in the bedrooms upstairs.

You were the total opposite of Chloe, and honestly, you envied her. She was a social butterfly who could blend in with anyone if she needed to, and she was evidently liked by the other students of any clique out there.

Oh, and by party animal, I mean it. Dresses in every colour, length and pattern. Heels of every inch and style. She just knew what to do. Practically, if you got her to go to your party, that's how you'd know if it was a good fucking party. 

Sitting in front of your desk finishing your makeup, which you were surprisingly good at, you giggle as you watch Chloe attached a lasso to her waist.

She had looked really cute in her Woody costume, and you were in fact, dressed as a sexy Buzz Lightyear. Earlier on at Ann Summers, Chloe was begging for you to match with her. You couldn’t refuse. It was a 2 for 1 sale anyway..

You smiled as she started to record a few tiktoks before hitting the road.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with this rope tonight."

"Mhm.." you let out a hum as you focus on doing your eyeliner. It was hard not to laugh at what she said, but you managed to suppress a giggle.

You lined some lashes with glue before placing them on your lash line. Your makeup was flawless tonight, and you were grateful because it had been quite some time since you've done a full glam. A bit of setting spray, and you spun your chair around to face Chloe.

It was as if she was a proud mother from what she was seeing in front of her. "Gorgeous! You look like a doll. A sexy one. Stand up really quickly, let's take a few pictures before heading out."

You stumbled a bit from the high heeled boots you were wearing, and you had to adjust the fabric your ass was practically eating as you stood up. You and Chloe took a few cute pictures before heading out to the Mappa House.

As you guys got there, it was already packed with all shit ton of people spread out on the front lawn doing all sorts of stuff.

The loud music from the inside could be heard from where you were standing. People were smoking, making out, doing keg stands.

Honestly, Chloe was right. You looked at a group of girls huddled and chatting near the door, and one caught your eye. The girl was wearing nothing but black tape on her boobs and underwear.

You nudge Chloe. “Chlo, what is she meant to be..?”

She giggled a bit before replying, “Who knows.”

You got a bit nervous as you walked on the path leading up to the main door. Spooky Halloween decorations were all over the House, and sometimes you were unable to tell what and what's not a decoration..

A man was standing just inside the door, it seemed like he was waiting for Chloe.

The guy dressed up as Johnny Cage from Mortal Kombat. You'd never seen him before, and he looked a bit intimidating.

You heard Chloe call out to the man. "Kento!" ..So that's his name. You stood behind Chloe like a loser as she gave him a hug. She pulled away and stayed pressed up against him. 

He smiled, "I'm glad you came. And who's this pretty girl?"

Kento turned to you as you looked at Chloe, she held you close to her too and gave you a proper introduction. "This is my best friend and room-mate, I convinced her to come along tonight!"

You returned the smile to him, he seemed like an okay guy. "Hi, nice to meet you."

Chloe winked at you, and you smirked, knowing what it meant. You gave her the look of approval as she took her lasso and tied it around Kento, pulling him to a room somewhere in the house.

You laughed as you made your way to the kitchen, after they disappeared up the stairs. How outrageous.

It was more quiet, which you liked. Making your way to the far end of the kitchen, you opened the fridge and scanned what's inside. You decided to take a small can of Pepsi. You sighed as you turned around, closing the fridge shut with your butt.

The presence of someone behind all along startled you, leaning against the island watching you this whole time. 

"Oh my fuck. Why are you creeping up on people like that?"

It was a person, assumingly a guy, his face covered with a ghostface mask. He was dressed in all black. A simple black fitted tee and jeans. He had a fake knife strapped to his belt.

The mysterious guy took off his mask, and placed it on the counter behind him. Of course, It was Satoru, Chloe's brother.

You let out a labored sigh as you leaned against the fridge, unable to move.

"I'm surprised you showed up tonight, I thought you never will."

You slowly slid to the right trying to escape him, turning your back to face Satoru as you popped the can open on the counter. "...It was a last minute decision."

"Seems like you got a costume too, huh?" Eyes sliding down your body as he finished his sentence.

Your eyes widen, realising your ass was on show to him this whole time. I'll kill this man if he thinks I'm up to no good.

You quickly turn back around to face him with the front of your body, and it didn't do you any justice as he was just met with your almost exposed chest. Party in the front, party in the back.

"I'm not complaining, you look good." he reassured you, trailing his eyes down your body from head to toe.

"..Thanks." Quickly, you took a huge sip from the can as you looked at him. This drink will only un-calm my nerves.

"I'm actually not into parties myself either." he spoke, and you almost choked on your drink.

"You? THE Satoru Gojo? I wasn't expecting that."

"No, I just like more intimate parties. Big ones like these annoy me. I don't know and don't care about 3/4 of the people who are here."

He continued, “You wanna come with? I’m going upstairs. There’s one last free room. And that’s the master room.”

Chloe was already busy, and there wasn’t really anyone else you could talk to around here. You had no choice.

”Hmm, okay. I’ll follow.”

He made sure to grab his mask from the counter, and the two of you left the kitchen.

As you made your way up the stairs, you could feel other girls eyes piercing through your back like daggers. Luckily, they couldn’t recognise you that easily.

By the time you set foot on the upstairs landing, you called out to him. "Satoru," you continued, "Who's room is this even?"

"Suguru’s, but it's cool. He won't give a fuck."

You followed behind him for a bit until you reached the master bedroom.

”Lock the door if you don’t want people coming into this room eating each other’s faces off.”

You blankly stared at him for a bit before turning back around to twist the lock. The music from downstairs turned faint and so did the chatter.

For a frat house, Suguru’s room was actually clean, you expected dirty plates and what-ever-the-fuck to litter the rest of the room, but the only exception was the clothes scattered on the ground. You watched and sat yourself down on the bed as he rummaged through the drawers for something.  Is he… reaching for a.. 

He picked up a lighter from deep inside the drawer, taking a joint out that was untouched from the same drawer, but kept away in a tiny zip bag. Phew.

”You smoke?”

You looked at him. “What do you think?”

”I’m guessing no.” You didn't know if you were to be butthurt by his quick and certain answer, but you don't see a reason why you should be anyways. His words went a bit quiet as he concentrated on sparking the joint between his fingers.

He took a hit from the joint as soon as it was burning perfectly. “Damn, that shits good.”

”Is Suguru not gonna be pissed if he finds out you took that..?” You questioned him.

”..Who do you think sold this stuff to him?” He flashed his famous smile as he saw the priceless look on your face.

You chewed on your lip and looked at the ground. “Oh, right.. yeah.”

You forgot that Satoru was basically the one who sold 🍃 on and off the campus.

He walked over to you, and sat beside you on the edge of the bed. “You don’t wanna try?”

Satoru took another hit before blowing the smoke out on his right side, making sure it doesn’t hit your face.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, plus I’m scared.” You continued, “More scared I’ll start coughing like a bitch that I’d make a fool out of myself.”

Even though the only source of light came from the bedside lamp, you could still see that his eyes were glossy, and at this point a tiny bit bloodshot. “I could teach you, here.”

He held out the joint towards you, the smell was so strong it was probably sticking to your clothes by now.

”Quick, it’s burning away for no reason.”

You held the joint between your fingers like a cigarette, and looked at him for assurance.

”No, not like that.” He took your fingers and placed it properly between your pointer and thumb. “You look like a loser if you hold it like a cigarette.”

”Okay, what now.”

”Do it, take a hit.”

You stared at it before bringing it to your lips. Satoru spoke from beside you.

”Like, almost as if you’re sucking. Make sure it really gets to here.” He points to his chest.

You slightly squint your eyes as you take a mistakingly big hit.

”Now hold it for a bit, then exhale. It’s gonna hit better.”

The joint left your lips as you held it for like two seconds, and you let out a laboured exhale.

“Good girl, see? No coughing.”

You passed it back to him and Satoru takes another hit.

”..How’d I know if it hit me?”

He smirked, “You’ll just know. Don’t worry, I got you.”

All of a sudden, it felt like everything slowed down and your face was being grabbed to the ground.

You felt a bit relaxed knowing that Satoru was beside you, and you managed to take a hit without embarrassing yourself and going all snotty.

Unwillingly, you take the joint back from his hand to take another hit.

”What happened to Ms. I don’t smoke?”

You rolled your eyes before you passed it back to him again. 

Satoru smiled at your reaction before speaking again. “You wanna play a game?” 

Stomach churning, and not really liking where this is going, you answered. “..like what?”

”I ask you a couple questions and you answer, then you do the same to me.”

You snickered. “Isn’t that just called ‘getting to know each other’?”

”Yeah, I just wanted to make it sound more interesting.”

“Okay, why not.”

“How about, if you refuse to answer a question you take off one piece of clothing.”

You looked at him with a , ‘nice try’ face. ”Nuh uh. Not happening. Just ask the questions.”

”Aww, it was worth a shot.”

“Start asking questions or I’ll change my mind,” you changed your position on the bed to lie down on your stomach. It was more comfortable than stiffly sitting on the edge of the bed.

”You ever had a boyfriend?”

”Once. But I was like sixteen.”

Satoru just nods. “Your turn.”

“Did getting your tongue piercing hurt?”

He turned to you and smirked, “I’m surprised you noticed it. But nahh. Not really, it was just the healing process that hurted.”

Your face slightly grew warm, “…Yeah, I noticed it yesterday.”

He just smiles, and asks his second question. “You ever gotten your pussy ate before?”

You swallowed your spit as you propped yourself up slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

”You heard me.” He takes another hit of the joint even though it’s almost shrunken to the smallest it can be.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “…No.”

”…Good.” Satoru muttered, but you couldn’t really hear.

It was your turn to ask question again.

”..Why’d you want to get it pierced anyways?”

”Dunno. Why’d you think?”

Silence and tension grew between the two of you. You didn’t know if the naughty answer that crossed your mind was right or wrong. 

You didn’t know if it was the temperature of the room or the shit you smoked. You avoided answering his question.

”…Y-your turn to ask the question.”

His next question came out immediately.

“..Wanna see for yourself?”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. You didn’t know what to say. And you didn’t know what he meant.

”Is that a question you’re using up or are you just saying that… as a joke..”

Satoru stood up and walked over to the dresser, placing his costume props on top. In fact, he took everything out of his pockets and placed it on the dresser. 

You watched him glance at his phone for a bit, reading all the messages from his other homies before placing it down on the dresser and not replying.

A pool was forming between your legs, and you gently clamped them together while still lying down.

You’d be lying if you said you totally didn’t want to strip everything off and be naked by the time he turns back around. But you kept your composure.

Satoru turned back around, walking back to the bed. He sat on the same edge he was on a few minutes ago.

”And what if I do wanna find out,” You spoke, testing the waters.

His voice was laced with honesty. “I don’t want to push you out of your boundaries, we don’t have to do this. We can forget that this happened and my sister won’t ever know I was near you.”

A few thoughts were racing through your mind. I mean, Chloe was busy, you literally had weed in your system and you never thought you would’ve. There’s a first for everything, right?

You gently crawled over across the bed,  closer to him. “…No, I do want you to show me.” Your voice trailed off quietly, you grew shy as you drew back.

He turned his head behind to face you, and was able to see the sincerity in your eyes. Not gonna lie, he was very attractive. And I was literally begging to have his head between my legs.

You came closer to him again, and found yourself placing your lips on his first. The two of you melted into each other, with the lingering sexual tension finally resolved. 

The good girl act no longer existed, and time around you felt like it had stopped. This was something you needed, and you finally got it.

He was extremely gentle with his hands, and softly guided you to move back further onto the bed, placing your head down on the pillow.

You slightly squirmed as he placed his knee between your legs. He pulled away from your neck  before looking at you from above, caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

“Just relax doll, I’ll take care of everything.” He left you with a peck on the lips as he slowly peppered a trail of kisses down your body, going lower and lower.

Your breath hitched as he cupped both of his hands around each of your thighs, kissing your inner thigh as he looked up at you in between.

His hands were cold, and caused your nipples to harden from his touch. But the heat of your body cause him to warm up in no time. He paused for a moment. “Can I?”  Satoru points to your tiny shorts before you responded with a nod. You slid them off and threw them somewhere in the room. You’ll find those later.

You watched as he used his teeth to teasingly slide your thong off your body, down your legs. You grew goosebumps from the feeling of the fabric slowly gliding down your skin.

It was painfully slow, but it made you want him even more. He knew what he was doing, and for your first time getting eaten out, it was like winning the lottery if Satoru was the one doing it.

He took them from his mouth, and placed it in the back pocket of his jeans before kissing past your inner thigh, Satoru placed a wet kiss on your throbbing clit before doing a few small licks with his tongue.

The mixture between the metal of his piercing and tongue made you shudder, causing you to whine and clamp your thighs around his head gently.

You felt Satoru's soft hands grip slightly your skin firmer, spreading your legs more apart and keeping them wide open for him. You were expecting his hands to be cold, but surprisingly your skin was met with his warm touch. He sucked on your clit gently, before lapping at it again hungrily.

Your two hands were occupied themselves, one grabbed onto his hair and the other clutched onto the sheets beside you. He only pushed his tongue deeper into you, basically gently fucking your hole with it.

Practically losing your mind from how good Satoru made you feel, you could tell he was enjoying every single noise and reaction you made. You felt the way he smiled against your dripping cunt as he cycled from sucking to licking.

”…Don’t.. stop..” you continued, in short breaths. “…Please”

He hummed gently with his eyes closed, his lips glossed with his spit and the juices from your pussy, and the sound of someone’s phone ringing echoed in your ears, releasing you from your trance.

You looked down at him annoyed as he hauled his head up from your legs. “Not my phone, mines silent on the dresser.”

You turned to the far end of the bed to your left and saw your phone screen was flashing. Reaching for it, you saw Chloe was the one calling.

Turning the phone screen for Satoru to see, he squinted his eyes a bit to read who the caller was. “You can answer,”

Before answering the call you laughed a bit, as you saw how ridiculous you made him look after grabbing his hair.

”Chloe?” You watched Satoru as he tried to listen in on the conversation.

He whispered, “Put it on speaker.”

You nodded, and Chloe could be heard on the other line speaking.

”Hey girl, just checking on you. You okay?” You heard her and Kento giggle as she tried to speak over the phone. But it was a bit louder around her, so that means they were with a bunch of other people now.

”Yeah, I’m…” Your eyes widen and flutter as felt as Satoru placed his head back down between your thighs, slowly and slightly lapping at your clit again with the cold metal orb on his tongue causing you to throb again.

You felt as he carelessly swirled his tongue around like there’s no tomorrow, but this time he let one of your legs go and thrusted a finger in and out of your hole, emitting a squelching noise as he continuously sucked, stimulating you like crazy.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

”Heyyy, you there?”

You were unable to answer as your own words became nothing but breathy as you try to form a sentence.

”…Y-Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m in the…b-bathroom.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your inner thigh for a second time as he heard your little lie over the phone.

You furrow your brows, making an “O” shape with your mouth.

Your hand holding the phone fell flat onto the bed, and by now you were no longer listening to whatever Chloe was saying on the other side of the line. Your mind was clouded, and the knot in your stomach tightened as you felt an orgasm approaching.

Lucky for you, Chloe ended the call less than ten seconds ago as it seems like she was busy with something else. Hopefully Kento.

He felt the way you quivered even more than last time, and held one of your legs over his left shoulder as he thrusted another finger in, still lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt as your breathing quickened, becoming irregular.

”Cum all over my face,” He murmured against your warm lips, and that did it for you. You liked the way he was gentle with his hands, slowly using one to rub your thigh on his left shoulder. He was deep in there, and he ate your pussy like it was a five course meal.

You watched as him as you rode out your orgasm, your head falling back against the pillow. Your mind was all over the place as you endlessly squirted all over his fingers that curled inside of you to aid your high, and felt as you slightly pushed your body more towards him.

“S-shit..” Was all you could say. You saw the way the piercing was exposed for a split second as he stuck his tongue out, the juices from your release dripping all over his mouth.

As he gently pulled away from between your legs, a ‘pop’ noise was heard after he gave your clit one last suck. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way his face was soaking wet.  Luckily it didn’t go past his above nose. Or he’d be partially blind for the rest of the night.

The neck of his shirt managed to be slightly soaked with splatters from your juices. But he didn’t care.

“..You got a little something on your face..” You say, pointing to your mouth with your finger to tell him where it was.

He smiled, and you watched as he used his tongue to wipe the corners of his mouth, but took a random towel hanging off the door to wipe the rest off his cheek.

“Damn, Suguru’s gonna be pissed when he sees how soaked his sheets are.” Satoru laughed as he looked at you still with your legs spread out, trying to recover.

No can do, the towel that was previously used by Satoru was passed to you after.

The wet circle underneath you had expanded from soaking into the sheets for too long. Satoru grabs your shorts that landed just in front of the door and tossed them back to you, but as he walked away a knock could be heard.

It was Suguru, of course it was. “Yo, whoever’s in there is cheeky enough to lock my own damn door!”

You quickly slid on your shorts as you turned to the body mirror beside you, combing your hair with your fingers.

Honestly, you were a bit upset that your fun was cut short. But you couldn’t stay for too long or eventually someone would break the door down.

“Man shut the hell up, it’s me, Satoru. I’m in here.” He responded. You watched him in the mirror as he slowly came up behind you, turning you around and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. Making sure you knew he didn’t just want to leave you hanging like that. That you weren’t just a toy to him.

The two of you walked to the door, twisting the lock to it. “Here, you go out first. I’m right behind you.”

You nod as you left the room, and shyly smiled at Suguru on your way out who was dumbfounded, followed by Satoru behind you.

And of course, Suguru couldn’t help but notice your pink thong that was still hanging off Satoru’s back pocket.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

[moonfireshadow]

Rewatched Saltburn and I'm obsessed with Farleigh and Oliver's tutoring scene. The essay specifically. For those who don't remember: Oliver did his homework and all his assignments and genuinely gave a well thought out essay for their summer assignments. Farleigh shows up hungover and late and didn't even read the books. But the teacher immediately loves Farleigh and is chatting him up with an interest he barely tried to show Oliver. Even after Oliver gives his presentation and shows that he's clearly a much better student than Farleigh. Obviously this is the real start of their rivalry. But it's also such a beautiful look into their characters and how they mirror eachother. Farleigh understands Oliver's essay, I believe. But like the teacher he's bored by it. The knowledge and work is there, but the presentation of it is boring and strange. Academic and correct, but lacking the appeal to the audience. (Which, can we talk about the fact Farleigh was genuinely listening at all? The teacher zoned out and switched channels, but Farleigh was interested and paying enough attention to know the exact number of times Oliver used the word "thus" in his essay. They respect each other truly even if they despise eachother at this point, and refuse to acknowledge the grudging respect.) So Farleigh does what he does best, he gloats over Oliver. He picks apart the style of the essay and it's presentation rather than addressing the central argument or topic. This delights the teacher and frustrates Oliver who is like, "so you're going to critique the style of my essay rather than it's substance? Seems a bit lazy" and that's the core component of these two characters.

Farleigh is ALL about presentation. He knows how fragile his pedistal is placed up and in view for everyone to see. He's a charity project, just like every other rando of the month. Sure he has some familiar connection, and that's given him a leg up in this world. But it's still shakey at best. He always has to give the correct performance, say the right words, keep his audience on HIS side. Unless he wants to get knocked down with the rest of the common rabal that he knows he's belongs with, but can't stand the idea of. So yes, of course he picks apart the one thing he knows Oliver is failing at. He takes his one advantage over Oliver and uses it mercilessly to both entertain and secure his audience on his side. (I wonder if the positions had been different some how, if Farleigh would have had anything to say about the substance of the essay itself. He was paying attention to it, did he want to have a real academic conversation? Did he possibly want to try and connect to Oliver in that way? A real and non performative way with someone who's so similar to him?)

As for Oliver, obviously his character is intelligent. He does the readings. He does the research. He puts the time and effort in to *learn* in the way Farleigh never does. And it must infuriate him that his essay is so easily pushed to the side for a cheep critique that doesn't even address the central argument of his essay. Of course he would hate Farleigh from the start for that. It's such a quick negation of all that Oliver has to offer and give just because it's not wrapped up in a pretty bow. And that's just his character. The substance is there, the intelligence is there. But it's not enough. It will never be enough. Because Oliver doesn't know how to translate it to his audience in a way they'll care about. He learns and tries to mimic, but it always falls short because he just can't seem to figure out the way to blend in and present himself so seamlessly as Farleigh.

And that's why they're such perfect mirrors of each other. They're both intelligent and clever. But they've found different ways of getting what they want and proving themselves. Farleigh is the face and the presentation, Oliver is the substance and body. In another world imagine what these two could have done and been if they hadn't been pitted against each other for the same prize. And the fact Oliver definitely deliberately shoved Farleigh out at the perfect time so he wouldn't get hurt and killed? Oliver and Farleigh respect and admire the other. But their tragedy is they can never be on the same page or team because the world they're in says there is only room for one. And they'd both do anything to get that title.

[rockwgooglyeyes]

and in a blink. . . gone.

There's lots of things I could say about Round 7. This might not be my most coherent post ever but c'est la vie.

One of the most palpable things in Blink Gone's video is the color symbolism. The most prominent colors are green and red, with red being symbolised in the line "dark crimson air embraces us, lifting our spirits" and green pulling duty in the earlier line, "the verdant lights tickle my eyes and I smile." The thing that's so interesting about these two colors is, to me, the green represents life/rebellion/freedom in ALNST, especially with the inside of Mizi's hood being green, Hyuna's leg being green, etc, (green being shown when Till reaches out for Mizi, reaching out for freedom/rebellion.) Comparatively red represents something closer to loss/grief/love, with the skies of the meteor scene in Black Sorrow being red, Ivan's pupils being red, the flowers at the Garden being red (my clematis being the song that started it all), etc. (the flashback of the ivantill kiss is red as well, symbolising the loss/grief Till connects to it).

(Additionally, fun fact! I believe that teal symbolises childhood, or even simply the past, in ALNST because of the lighting style caused in the ANAKT garden images casting a greenish-blue tint on the shadows, as well as the fact that Till's eyes are teal and he is one of the people who has clung to the ephemeral, sweet moments of their childhood the fiercest.)

Purple isn't something with as clear symbolism in ALNST simply because it's not been around *as much* but I would argue that it symbolises the system and the oppression it exerts, as well as control in general. Luka's fingers are purple when he's in control of his emotions. The stage in Blink Gone is a combination of purple and green (largely) and I feel as though that represents the war between rebellion and the system (funny that, at the end, purple consumes the stage, symbolising how today, the system won) as well as the undercurrents of control showing how this entire round was calculated from the beginning.

The instruments in the midpoint of the song (the violin and electric guitar) being holographic in universe and being CGI in the video is actually significant, because of something that @alien-til-i-stage said to me, which was, the instruments represented Till's genius and his humanity. In my opinion, the fact that they weren't real and in fact were just stand ins (with Till's being green and Luka's being purple), while the prerecorded instrumentals played anyways, is a taunt, saying that Till and Luka's humanity is an illusion, and all they are in the end, is slaves to the machine. Something that is proved true by the way that this whole fucking round was rigged from the beginning, condemning Luka to a prolonged life within his gilded cage and Till relegated to a mere token, killed simply as a stepping stone on Luka's path to continued life and torture.

Maybe that's why Blink, Gone feels so empty to me, as a round. It rings hollow. Even the instrumentals feel incomplete, the way that the chorus is dominant and the verses are brief, most of the song being the repeated lines of "in a blink, gone" and "the clock goes tick, tock, tick, tock" because, see, to me the repetition is fitting but the more the same thing is repeated, the less substance it has. Perhaps that's fitting, after all, it's gone in a blink, you can listen to the song and blink in surprise once you realize it's over, stunned at how fast it went.

The song itself is about seizing the moment, carpe diem, that sort of shit, but it's from the retrospect.

Someone on twitter (as seen above) mentioned that the song isn't about love, it's about loss. Which makes the hollowness ring all the more loudly. Of course it feels empty- grief is the feeling you experience when you turn to say something to someone and you realize they're not there. (also note how during this still, it's purple but with a red undertone- reinforcing the system of oppression using grief as a tool).

It's about someone from the future, who has been hurt before, trying to insist to the person in the present that they need to enjoy what they have because loss is inevitable. "And I smile, before this piercing, radiant moment fades away," (from when Mizi realizes it's Till on stage) is directly followed by "and in a blink, gone, forget everything and just enjoy it" which is so manipulative it hurts. It highlights a moment of happiness, and then sucker punches you with how fleeting and ephemeral that moment is, basically saying "happiness is pointless, don't dwell on it, enjoy what you have and don't ask for more" it's an authority figure telling you to stop complaining about what you don't have because, hey, look, you have a roof over your head! Who cares if you're hunger, you're not out on the street, ungrateful wretch! "Don't miss the moment ... leave no regrets" the lyrics are more of a slap in the face than they are a heartfelt plea. This isn't someone telling you not to get lost in your head because you're missing out on the beauty of the present, this is someone telling you to stop dwelling on your grief.

Not only that but the later lines of "Exist for me, it's this moment or no," only deepen that manipulation of a hand being held out but that hand having a steep price. You can exist for this person, enjoy this moment, but that means leaving everything else behind and maybe that's easier, but is it worth it? Because when Till finally reaches out, takes that hand, fixates on the moment and forgets everything else, he’s shot down.

Let me come back to the "the whole fucking round was rigged from the start" comment that I just made and breezed past because there is actual reasoning behind it besides "boohoo my twink died and that can't be canon without interference D:"

Why the fuck would Till start flagging in the second half of the song, if he was on drugs that Urak gave him? It doesn't make sense for Urak not to give Till the right amount of drugs to keep him aware and capable for the whole round, after all, Urak wants Till to win. Right? It certainly doesn't seem that way, considering the fact that the drugs couldn't have come from anywhere other than Urak, and that it didn't really matter who ended up here, at the finale, because they were going to lose to Luka anyways.

It makes me think that Urak was paid off, to make Till lose, because I sincerely doubt he would do it without incentive. Additionally, if he weren't paid and he just wanted Till to lose, there wouldn't be any point to drugging Till at all. Till was merely drugged to keep up the appearance of a fight and to keep the performance going, not to actually give him a chance to fucking try.

Not only that but the FUCKING IMAGES OF IVAN??? There's no way that they intended to even give Till a chance of winning.

God I mean I love that Ivan featured (and that Luka went through the trouble to imitate him, and that it worked, because that means that at least Ivan had some kind of effect on Till) but god, it hurts to know that at this point, he's merely used as a bludgeon to whack over Till's head and put him into the grave.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[2.7K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+

SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE

LESSON #3

You didn’t have to wait seven whole days to see Steve again, and when you did, it wasn’t poolside.

This meant that between you both, there were a lot more clothes than normal, but you found out the hard way that that fact didn’t really make a difference to the effect he now had on you. There was a party at some rich kids house on the outskirts of town, someone called Sam that neither you nor Eddie knew all that well but Robin used to work with him at the Shake Shack and well-- if Robin was going somewhere, Steve followed, and if Steve was allowed through the door, that meant Eddie had a ticket in too.

If Eddie was there? High chance you were too.

It’s how you ended up in a neighbourhood that rivalled even Steve’s, each house sprawled out across green manicured lawns and the pools out the back were almost as large as the one you were learning in, a shiny red slide to boot. Three stories, arched windows, a winding driveway to a three door garage and when you entered behind Eddie, the crystal chandelier in the foyer was vibrating to the beat of the music.

Two guys you recognised from the trailer park grabbed Eddie as he pushed his way through the crowd, your fingers hooked in his as he dragged you behind him. They were ready with cash, bills rolled up and an eagerly impatient look in their already glassy eyes, so you waved the boy away and headed to the kitchen, a safe enough sanctuary as you skirted around the makeshift dance floor that had been created in the living room. It seemed that anyone over seventeen and anyone under thirty was at the party, the large space full to the brim with drunken strangers, people moving to the synths of INXS.

The pushed back furniture made it difficult to move around the gyrating bodies, Sam’s parent’s cream coloured carpet already stained and sticky with questionable substances. The lights had been switched off and someone had strung multicoloured Christmas lights around the curtain poles, around the second chandelier above the coffee table. There was a broken disco ball sitting in a wall sconce, pink and green and blue hitting off each mirrored tile, making everything glitter.

You saw Steve before you could make it to the kitchen, rainbows on his cheeks, a stripe of colours across his lips. He was talking to a girl - a pretty redhead who had a drink in one hand and Steve’s bicep in another. The sight of him made you feel as warm as a saturday morning, as if you were walking into water with his naked chest in front of you, his pink cheeks and sleep mussed hair just for your eyes only. It felt almost unfair to see him now, surrounded by others, touched by someone else. He looked just as pretty with a striped shirt on, his hair styled and curling around his ears and neck, one hand shoved into his jeans pocket as the other gripped a beer.

His gaze caught your own, a fleeting thing before recognition clicked at the sight of you and then Steve was moving, the redhead’s fingers catching at his sleeve before he was in front of you, her frown behind him.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Steve was smiling, eyes drinking in the corners like he was genuinely happy to bump into you. He craned his neck and spotted Eddie, raising his beer in greeting. “You want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah.” You smiled back, heart in your throat because Steve was placing a familiar hand on the small of your back in order to steer you into the kitchen and Eddie was grinning, a full beam that made your cheeks warm. “A drink sounds good.”

You let Steve pour you a vodka and lemonade, and he fumbled an ice tray he found in the back of the freezer, the fizz spilling over the rim of the glass as he handed it to you with a grin. You watched him lick the soda from his fingers, his eyes on yours as he smiled still, his cheeks a little pink and it felt like you were back in middle school and the pretty, popular boy was giving you too much attention.

You weren’t sure why, but you lapped it up happily.

Taking a gulp, you hummed, happy that your drink didn’t burn on the way down and Steve stayed close, his hand gone from the small of your back but his shoulder bumped yours and you could smell his cologne, leftover sunscreen and hairspray.

“You ready for lesson three tomorrow or are you planning on getting black out?” Steve asked with raised brows. “I gotta tell you now, legally, I’m not covered for drownings due to hangovers.”

You rolled your eyes, lips lifting into a smile you tried to suppress because you had absolutely no intention of getting messy drunk in the vicinity of Steve Harrington, with or without the threat of swimming the day after.

“It depends,” you joked anyway, “what does lesson three include?”

Steve smirked, leaning close, hair falling across his forehead and you could see the freckles over his nose, the glint of the chain he wore flashing under the collar of his t-shirt. “M’not sure I should tell you now.” He was all charm, a cheekiness you normally didn’t get to see up close. “You might stand me up.”

You scoffed, a dismissive sound that barely covered your embarrassment because you were sure that your eyes were wide enough to show off how flustered you were. You took another long sip, lemonade and bubbles coating your tongue and you watched Steve stare at the way you licked the vodka from your lips.

“I wouldn’t stand you up,” you murmured, barely heard over the thud of the music.

The boy beamed, ecstatic. “You wouldn’t?”

“Not unless you were planning something drastic, you know, like swimming.”

A laugh burst from Steve’s chest, his eyes shining with an amusement you were proud of producing. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, spreading his feet wide enough that you were able to stand between them. Not too close, not too suggestive, just close enough to each other that girls glared at you and no one tried to interrupt.

“Swimming? In a pool?” Steve cocked his head to the side, one hand nursing his beer, the other reaching out to poke at your side. You squirmed, amazed at how such a friendly touch seemed just as intimate as his hands on your bare back, keeping you afloat. He frowned at you, all faux confusion that made him look unbearably cute. “Who the fuck would think of that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to stop smiling. Come to think of it, your cheeks ached a little, your grin permanently etched onto your lips since you saw Steve, whether it was from being flustered or amused. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest light and you barely noticed anyone else in the room.

It’s why you jumped when two hands caught your shoulders, a diabolical cackle in your ear as you recognised the scent of smoke and old spice a little too late. Eddie smelled like childhood and home but now, standing in a strangers kitchen with Steve Harrington, you couldn’t have been less impressed with your friend’s appearance.

“Hey, there’s a good chance I can shift the last of this green if I hit up this party on Maple Street,” Eddie half yelled over the music, his arm draped over your shoulder in a too familiar way. You wanted to elbow him. “You comin’ with or—?”

He was glancing at Steve over your head, brows raised, suggestive and waiting on an answer from him rather than you. You swallowed hard, noticing how Steve had seemed just as disappointed as you at Eddie’s arrival but he shrugged, nonchalant. “I could walk you home later,” the beer in his hand glinted in the low light, his fingers tightening around it. He smiled, eyes soft, “I don’t mind.”

You wanted to say yes. Fuck, you wanted to say yes so bad and the word was costing your tongue, buzzing and excited, a fizzy candy explosion. But you took too long to look at the boy, tanned skin and messy hair, scruff on his jaw that he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, the freckles on his cheeks and neck that made you want to touch them.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d kissed a boy, never mind one you really liked. And perhaps that wasn’t even on the cards, maybe Steve didn’t like you in that way at all - but the idea of being alone in the darkened room with strangers, people you didn’t know and people who wouldn’t care if you fell into each other - it suddenly seemed a little too much for one night.

“Um, it’s— it’s okay,” you told him regretfully. You hated the way his eyes seemed to lose a little warmth, his lips turning down before he righted himself. “I should probably just go with Eddie.”

“Pussy,” Eddie coughed, barely concealed and Steve stared at the ground, cheeks pink.

You really did elbow your friend then, the sharp point of your arm finding his rims and he kicked at the back of your heel, childlike in the way he scuffled to get you back in a way that really wasn’t subtle.

“Thank you, though,” you smiled at Steve, hopeful that he’d return the gesture. He did, although not as warm as before, not as confident as he’d been as he’d guided you to the kitchen with a wide hand on your back. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, right?”

Steve sank the last of his drink, licking it from his lips before nodding. He was already back out of the kitchen and you tried not to look defeated. “Yeah, ‘course,” he told you. “See you in the morning.”

“Well,” Eddie watched Steve retreat, his hand slapping down on your slumped shoulder. “You fucked that, didn’t you?”

Steve was already in the pool when you arrived the next morning, still sleep mussed and frazzled from the way your alarm had blared too loud. Despite three weeks of early mornings, it was still a struggle to pull yourself from bed. But the promise of a warm day, pink-blue skies and Steve Harrington made it so much easier than you ever thought.

You paused at the loungers for longer than you needed, your toes curling at the thought of stripping off your shorts and shirt because the swimsuit underneath was newer and skimpier and cherry red. Steve was underwater, swimming effortlessly beneath the surface from the shallows to the depths you weren’t brave to venture to yet.

So you took the opportunity to pull off your t-shirt, a ratty old thing that used to be Eddie's and you cursed picking it up from your floor, hoping Steve wouldn’t get the wrong idea despite how many times you’d told him that Eddie was just your friend.

You let it fall to the sun warmed tiles just as Steve broke the surface, pushing his hair back with one hand as he grasped the edge of the pool with the other. He grinned when he saw you, a familiar and friendly thing that made your heart jump but his gaze darted to your chest, just for a second, just for a tiny moment, and you remembered to feel shy.

“New suit?” Steve asked, sounding casual, his brows raised as if it didn’t really matter what the answer was.

You wondered what he’d say if you told him you’d bought it with him in mind, what he’d say if he knew you’d stared at your half naked frame in your bedroom mirror for far too long, inspecting each curve, each bruise, all the old silver scars and stretch marks, stripes along your thighs that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. This suit dipped low in the back, as modest as it still was in the chest. Would he think your boobs were too small? Too big? Too flat? Uneven? Could he tell?

Would it matter?

It was a vibrant colour against your skin, the same red as the cherries you’d scooped in your smoothie before you’d left, a shade off of Steve’s lifeguard shorts. It seemed too bright now, too silly, but you nodded regardless and tried not to make a big deal out of it.

Steve leant on the pool edge, chin resting on his tanned forearms, water dripping from his wet hair, clinging to his too long lashes. He tilted his head, appraising, gaze gentle, never staring. “S’nice. Colour looks good on you.”

His words made it a lot easier for you to unbutton your shorts and slip the denim over your hips. Chin ducked, you couldn’t hold eye contact, not bold enough quite yet. But you let the shorts drop from your thighs, hitting the tiles and you kicked them under the sun lounger as you flicked off your sliders at the same time. The sun was already blazing, rising higher in the sky, turning the tangerine edges into a warm blue and the heat of it slipped over your skin like a blanket.

Feeling a little less naked than before, you walked to the shallows, Steve swimming the length of the pool to meet you. You stopped just shy of the stairs, lips pressed together and brow furrowed, contemplating. Steve stopped too, watchful as you considered your next move the boy positively beamed when you dropped down to sit at the edge of the water.

The surface lapped at Steve waist when he stood, not too deep but certainly not the gentle entrance you’d become accustomed to. You cringed as you slipped both feet into the cool water, hands curling around the edge of the pool until your knuckles burned.

“Yeah?” Steve coaxed, sounding impressed. Proud. “You’ve got it. You can just slide right in, you’ll touch the bottom.”

You knew you would. The logic was in front of you, just like the bottom of the pool was very much visible. Looking down, you could see Steve’s feet on the tiles, rippling into funny shapes and sizes, his bare legs, just as tanned as the rest of him and dusted with coarse hair. He was planted there firmly, no current or waves to knock him over, steady as ever.

He lay his hands on the top of the water, palms up. His gaze met your own, his smile warmer than the morning. “I’m right here.”

It was comforting, his words, his closeness, even if you didn’t take his hands, he kept them there, waiting. It was enough for you to lean forward, bum slipping off of the warm tiled edge and into the cool water. You gasped as always from the shock of the temperature difference, the water rippling around the tops of your ribs and it was enough to make your nipples pebble, glaringly obvious under the new, thinner material of your suit.

If Steve noticed, he didn’t dare look down.

He did take a step forward though, enough for his toes to touch yours and you could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose, could see the chlorine water that still made his lashes cling together in spikes. It was intimate enough to make you wonder if something like this would’ve happened the night before if you’d stayed. If you had let Eddie and the boy shaped comfort blanket that he was go, if you’d hung back with Steve and shared secrets and drinks under the multicoloured lights, if you’d let him walk you home under the glow of street lamps.

If he would’ve kissed you at your front door.

But then the gate clanked noisily against the chain link fence and there was a splash big enough to soak your chest and the side of your face - Steve’s too - both screwed up in shock.

Eddie appeared from the water - the deeper, indigo coloured end - shaking his sopping curls like a wet, disobedient dog, his tattooed chest bare and much paler than Steve’s. He grinned through his curls, oblivious to whatever he’d just interrupted, his arms spread wide.

“What’s up, fuckers?”

[bandgie]

I was just thinking about hannie starting an online shop for anime (hentai 👀) style costumes and asking hyunjin to help taking pictures. The reader would be modeling with the outfits. At first they'd be finding excuses to touch the reader to fix the clothes or help her change, then they'd ask her to do different poses that were showing her body more than the clothes, not that they were covering much skin anyway, then hyunjin would ask jisung to help with the poses bcs the reader on her own can't do it properly. and then ✨️threesome✨️

a little manipulation, a little manhandling, a little corruption, the best combination ever

yes anon you are correct

mdni18+ | fem!reader, dubious, pussy play, (un)solicited photos

"are you sure this is necessary?" you turn your head back towards the men. you've got your elbows perched on the table, arching your back so your ass widens for the camera. the underwear you're wearing leaves little to the imagination. you're sure they can see every crease.

click! "yes! i need customers to know it's fine material. it's business, babe. you wouldn't understand." han's reasoning makes your eyes roll. you turn to face the front again, forced to hear the clicking of hyunjin's camera.

a hand comes on your hip. guiding you to arch your back more and spread your legs. you squeak, snapping your head around to see Hyunjin carefully moving you. 

"chill," he doesn't even look at you. "i'm just fixing it." but there's something off about the way he touches you. hyunjin squeezes your flesh, massaging the skin until he travels to your inner thighs. you want to say something, but you recall han telling you that he's a professional. it would be better to let him do his job, but it's weird. 

it's instinct when your legs snap shut, his fingers had went to your crotch. 

"okay! dude! that's so fucking not necessary."

"the underwear was all messed up. im just fixing it," it's the calmness in Hyunjin's voice that gets you to settle. he's so stoic, so poised. his overly professionalism makes you simultaneously comfortable and uncomfortable.

"han, can you help me over here?"

you internally whine. now there's gonna be two men essentiality gawking at your cunt. you shut your eyes and try to pretend you're anywhere else, but it only does more harm. it focuses the feeling of ghost touches from their fingers, the accidental flicks to your clit. it makes your hips jolt, your breath hitch. it's a normal reaction for you to get wet, for the substance to leak through the underwear for han and hyunjin to see.

"god damn." it's low, but you hear han. he gets bold, using two digits to run up and down your slit while hyunjin spreads one of your cheeks for easy access.

"w-wait. hannie, it gonna get dirty."

"dirty?" he scoffs. "it's gonna look good. just let me and hyunjin get you nice and wet, okay? it'll look really good for the photos."

"mhm." hyunjin nods. "adds realism, you know?"

you don't know, but they're the professionals. might as well let them do what they think is best.

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 2

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

(Things get a bit angsty here for a bit, but don't worry, it gets back to some of the cracky-goodness!)

After allowing himself to relax for a bit and actually letting his muscles loosen for once, Jason rose from the bath and rinsed himself off under a piping hot and strong shower. He finished the rinse off with a flash of cold water to focus back up and made his way to the vanity where there was basic hotel amenities. He attempted to style his hair and after at least drying it, pulled on the fluffiest robe he has felt since he first moved into the manor all those years ago.

Fuck. The family. The Outlaws...

Jason put his face in both his hands and took a deep breath, then allowed his shoulders to slump as he dragged his hands from his face to his sides. He marched in a lazy manor over to the end of the large bed where he flopped face down. Surprisingly, it wasn't as fluffy as he was expecting and he silently thanked whatever force there was that he wouldn't have to resort to sleeping on the floor or a chair for the familiarity. Though, he turned his head to face the windows, that little reading nook looks like I could easily fall asleep there.

No, stop it. Do I remember the Dimensional Code for home?

Jason contemplated. On one hand, it could be useful, on the other, they could have an entirely different category system here. He spent the next however long trying to remember the dimensional code for his Earth and tracing the swirls of purples and greens out the large windows. A knock startled him.

"Jason? Are you decent?" He stood quickly and pulled the robe tighter together, not quite ready to show his autopsy scars to his soul-owner? A literal goddess? He wasn't quite sure what she was yet.

"Uh, yes, come in, I'm covered." He tried to stand casually next to the bed when he had just been sitting, his hands now in his pockets.

"Hi, so one of my aides figured one thing out about the ritual that is somewhat concerning and also something I probably also should have brought up. Mind if we sit at the window?" She strode in and settled herself with a pillow against the window and waited for him to do the same. Once he was settled, she hesitated for a moment before sighing and looking out the window to the haunting site outside.

"The Infinite Realms has another name, one coined from my Earth." She licked her lips before she spoke again. "It's also known as the Ghost Zone. As the dimension between dimensions, it is also where beings known as ghosts, the Restless Dead, Neverborn, Gods, and all sorts of other beings that thrive off a substance known as ectoplasm reside. As such, I am current Queen Regent of Ghosts." She let him think for a moment before turning to him. "That means I can tell when someone is death-touched." Jason froze. "I didn't mention it before because I know it's super personal, but then my aide figured out that the ritual only worked because of the fact you are and especially since you had spent time here-" She cut herself off as his eyes just bugged out larger with every word that spilled from her lips. "Sorry, I just, I'm death-touched too. I haven't died yet, but I have been around death magic, or radiation, or whatever it is, since before conception. I don't know exactly what you went through, but I know it was deeply traumatic. I can have my healers take a look at your soul and see if it's alright because it kinda radiates a bit how traumatic it was." She bit her lip with one hand raised near her chin.

Jason closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and clenching his jaw tight and blowing the air harshly out his nose. He fell back against the window, allowing his head to knock against the glass. It was warm, as though the sunlight was gently shining upon it. "Yeah." He croaked. "Yeah, I died." He said softer. "I was dead for roughly six months." He dipped his head forward to block his face with his bangs. "Crawled outta my own grave." He laughed bitterly. "Spent a while wandering, a while more in a coma." He swallowed tickly. "Got picked up by my dad's vindictive ex and trained for a while to be an assassin." He looked up at her, making eye contact. "She dunked me in this pit of magic shit, we call it a Lazarus pit in my dimension. It cures those near death and kills the healthy. Fixed me up the rest of the way, or at least the scars and issues I had pre-death. I got to keep these." He allowed the top of the robe to fall away, showing the tops of the large y-shaped scar that ran the length of his torso. She gasped, both hands coming to cover her mouth, tears began to form in her eyes. She reached out as if to touch them and stopped herself, her face turning determined.

"I, Jazmine Nightingale, High Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms, the Mediator, the Caretaker, and all those other titles." She waved her wrist. "Declare that I will help you however you deem necessary. Whether that be helping your soul, returning you to your dimension, breaking this binding, or whatever. You are currently bound to you, and as such that makes you my responsibilities." She paused in her speech for a moment, thinking. "I mean, you're already technically one of my subjects because I think you qualify as one of the Restless Dead, but we'll figure out your classification when we take you to a healer. For now, it has been a long day. I will have one of my aides come to get your measurements for some clothes, I'm sure we have some around here somewhere that should fit you at least for dinner. The aides can get any style you like and it can be made quickly by the seamstresses we have on staff." At his hesitation she added with a smile, "They work in supernatural means, they will not overwork themselves by making an entire wardrobe in a few hours."

She patted the cushion in front of her and stood. "I will meet you at dinner, it's not formal at all, don't worry about dressing fancy, I'm just still in this getup from 'official queen stuff'" she said with air quotes looking tired. "I'll see you in a bit Jason!"

"Yes, um, your majesty." He stood to bow, the robe making it a bit difficult."

"Just Jazz please, for the love of the Ancients." She said with a pained look on her face.

"Right, sorry," he stammered, straightening, "See you later, Jazz." She smiled softly before leaving him to himself. He smacked his hand to his face groaning at himself before flopping face-first into the bed again. "She's the ruler of the dead and she's so determined and nice, what the actual hell? She's so earnest, it's so cute!" he sat up leaning his elbow on his knee. "Okay, operation Romance Plot is go. She isn't put off by the fact you died, this is good, I can work with this. Okay, so castle, let's go with that aesthetic. I'm thinking let's go with a poet shirt and some black slacks for dinner tonight." He claps his hands in front of him, decision made.

As if summoned by his words, there was another knock at the door. A man with bright sky blue skin and a deep plum butler's uniform opened the door, a measuring tape casually thrown over his shoulders.

"Yes, hello good sir. What aesthetic are we thinking for this evening?" he said in a posh accent.

Jason clasped his hands together. "What should I call you? Would you possibly have a poet's shirt and a pair of black formal slacks for this evening?"

"You may call me Jeeves. Yes that Jeeves. I am the personification of the trope of the helpful butler, and as such my power set includes anything and everything that could help me complete the duties of head butler of the High Family's home. We absolutely do have that attire on hand, it would be but a moment for someone to fetch it for us. Now did you have any ideas about future attire?" Jeeves snapped his fingers and a skeleton manifested in a swirl of dust to obey his silent command to gather the requested clothing.

Jason paused for a moment, considering. "How does the Queen usually dress casually around the castle? I know she said she was from an Earth. I don't know where in the timeline her Earth is from and she mentioned that what she was wearing earlier was mostly for special occasions, so I don't want to look like an idiot." He explained.

"Very good sir, she typically dresses in either a less formal toga if she's to be seen anywhere near the public areas of the castle, her armor whilst sparring with her knights, the High Princes and Princess, and if she is only going between her room and study then her far less formal Earth clothing which is a long sleeved blouse and lightwash jeans, typical of the late 1990's and early 2000's."

Jason thought for a moment. He didn't know how long he would be stuck here, but decided that clothes enough to last a fortnight should work. For all he knew, time flowed differently between here and his home dimension. Decision made, he told the butler what he wanted. Measurements were taken, the skeleton arrived with the requested clothes and Jason was left to change into his clothes for the evening. He still is wearing his combat boots because he forgot to ask for a pair of shoes.

Once changed, he realized that he still probably had a bit before dinner and he walked over to one of the bookshelves browsing the titles. There were several classics that he recognized, his favorite, Pride and Prejudice, was there. There were a few as well with Jane Austen's name, but not titles he recognized. He decided to come back to those later and pulled what looked like a collection of fairy tales from the shelf then settled himself lounging in the window nook to read for the next few hours.

[queenof-curses]

The Birth of a Queen

Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ryomen Sukuna is lonely and needs a Queen. Can't find one? Just make one!

Tags: Minors DNI! Explicit, Soft Dom Sukuna, She/her pronouns, fluff and smut, mostly smut though...

wc: 2.8k

Masterlist | More Jujutsu Kaisen

Read part II here!

A/N: this was actually the first fic I've ever written- reposted from Ao3. Enjoy!

--

Floating. That’s what it felt like. Floating in a pool, with your mind drifting in and out of blissful sleep. Relaxation washed over your body; you didn’t want to wake up, didn’t know if you could.

Who am I? You thought. 

Where am I? 

Suddenly, your eyes open and take in your surroundings. Darkness engulfs you. It’s colder, and you break out in goosebumps. With your eyes finally adjusting you make out the room you’re in. Sitting up, you quickly realize you’re not floating in a pool. Well, it is a pool, but not necessarily water. The dark, red liquid is not cold nor warm, but is in fact quite a comfortable temperature. You skim the substance with your hand, grazing its surface. It has no smell, but the consistency and color is similar to that of blood. Chills run through your body. 

Realizing that you’re sitting on top of this pool, it’s deep enough to stick your hand through, but yet you aren’t falling through its surface. Some sort of curse technique? 

Strange, you think to yourself. Where am I? 

“So it did work,” booms a deep, strong voice. Echoing through the room. 

Startled, you stand and make out the rest of the room that surrounds you. About 20 feet ahead sits a giant structure. A throne sits high up above you, gilded in dark obsidian and black as night. A figure sits upon the imperial style chair, a man maybe? Well, he sure seems human at first glance. You continue to observe his features. Pink hair, you notice, followed by chiseled features, a strong nose and chin with a lean body peaking out from a cream colored robe. Not only that, but you see black markings similar to tattoos adorn his body. On his face, hands, and you see even more on the small exposed part of his chest. With your eyes trailing over his features, you were too distracted to realize he was doing the same exact process with you. Taking you in fully, he hums appreciatively. 

“Come closer, let me take a good look at you.” He says, beckoning you in with two fingers. 

You stand on shaky legs. Looking down you realize you are wearing a dress similar in color to his robe, except your dress has no sleeves and wraps you tight. Gasping you look down at yourself. Markings have appeared all over your body. Markings that reflect the man almost identically. Looking up at him with wide eyes and confusion, he calls you closer.

“Please, come closer. I would never hurt something as precious as you.” 

Making your way slowly towards him you take a moment to reflect what you are currently feeling. Although you think you should feel threatened, scared, or even timid around this man, you’re not. A level of trust and something akin to warmness washes over your body. As you approach the throne he extends his arm, holding a tattooed hand out towards you. He’s so much larger than you up close, and you admire his features as you place your tiny hand in his. Locking eyes, your breath hitches in anticipation. 

Who is this man? What does he want with you? And most importantly, why are we so similar? 

“You are made for me.” He answers, as if reading your mind. “My other half. My curse partner. My Queen.” Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on top. You gasp as goosebumps make their way up the arm he holds. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, finally speaking. With a voice as sweet as honey, he almost groans out loud. With a pained expression, he releases your hand. 

“Let me explain your existence, my Queen.” Snapping his fingers, the ground begins to shake. He snakes his arm around your waist, holding you to him and keeping your balance. Looking around you notice things begin to shift. The dias the single throne sits upon extends in width. New flooring is built upon the end of old flooring. The dark red liquid begins to travel towards you both from down below. Eyes wide, you stare in awe as the fluid begins to form something in the space next to the original throne. You watch as the red liquid hardens into the same black obsidian that makes the throne the man sits on holding you. It only takes seconds, but the finished product is another chair right next to the man’s. Although identical in detail and look, it is slightly smaller to fit you comfortably. “Sit down and I will tell you all.” He says, motioning towards the chair. You take a seat, and he grabs both of your hands, facing each other. Looking into your eyes, he explains.

His name is Ryomen Sukuna. He tells you of his life, the man he once was. How he craved power, devotion, and how he was killed by other sorcerers. Once turned into a curse spirit, his power truly grew into something that could not be killed again. We were inside his domain and here, he can create, kill, and destroy anything he pleases. Which led his story to your existence. Lonely, he searched for a way to make a perfect partner. Someone that would understand his existence and power. That would want the same things he did. What other way to do that than by making you from a piece of himself? You were destined to be his, as he was destined for you. 

“Although your body is whole and complete, your power is not,” he explains. 

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“I was able to create your physical body quite easily. But for your power, there is another step. You can’t leave this domain until you have this power.” He releases one of your hands, taking the other and guiding you from your throne to his. Sitting you down in his lap, he goes on. “We must completely join for you to receive my power. Once that is done, you will be my true equal. My partner for eternity.” 

Wrapping his arm around your waist, you lock eyes with him and nod. “Yes, I want this.” And you did. You wanted the power, the glory; to be this curse’s life partner. For that is why you were made, isn’t it? You exist for each other. That’s why you felt no fear around him, even after listening to stories of his power and being. You completed one another. “Tell me what I must do,” you tell Sukuna, locking your arms around his strong neck. He smiles then. A smile so sharp and sinister, yet so magical the elated feelings reach his red eyes. 

“Come,” he says, leading you by the hand off the throne and behind the dias. Down a dark hall only lit by red flames, he leads you towards a large bed chamber. Once inside, he removes his robe completely. Since he faces the large black bed in the middle of the chamber, you admire his chiseled back and firm backside. Turning around, your eyes widen as you take in his form. Large, strong muscles with broad features face you. Shifting your eyes downward, his semi-erect twitches as you notice its size. “I will say, this is not my true form, but the form of my human host,” he interrupts your erotic thoughts. 

“It’s not?” You question. 

“No, but for the purpose of joining, I will remain in this form so as to not damage your body. That is, until you absorb some of my power,” he says grinning mischievously. “Come!” he booms, echoing through the room and guides you to the bed. 

You stand in front of the large structure, with the backs of your knees touching the soft black silk. Not wasting anymore time Sukuna takes your head in both of his hands and does what you’ve wanted to do since he kissed your hand back in the throne room: locked his lips with yours. You gasp into his mouth, welcoming his large tongue inside, battling it with your own. Twisting together, you shut your eyes and melt into him. A fire ignites inside your body, heat reaching your most sensitive place. With his patience running thin, Sukuna strips the dress from your body, revealing yourself to him. Taking a step back, he admires your body. “Y/N… I need to taste you.” he states. With eyes running wild, he pushes you down onto the bed and spreads your legs. 

Completely opening yourself to him, you whisper “Please… I need it.” And you did. You were wet for him. If you had panties on, they would be soaked through. He admired your wet cunt, glistening in the soft light provided by the lanterns in the room. 

“Watch me taste me you,” Sukuna says, locking eyes with your own. On his knees between your legs, he takes his hands and places them on your thighs. Spreading your knees far apart, he lays on his stomach and opens you to him. Finally dipping his head down, he licks a long stripe from bottom to top, earning a sigh from you. “As sweet as honey,” he whispers to himself as he leans back in. He eats you with reckless abandon. Like a starved man, he laps your juices as your sighs and gasps quickly turn into moans. Slipping a finger, then two inside of you he fingers your cunt slowly. Stretching you out and preparing you for something much bigger, his pace increasing as you feel yourself begin to build up an intense desire. Not taking anymore time, he latches his mouth onto your sensitive clit and circles it with his tongue. While he continues finger fucking you, your pleasure builds. Sukuna reaches up and pinches one of your peaked nipples, sending you over the edge. “Come for me, princess, finish on my face.” You scream his name, coming all over his mouth, making a mess and he loves it. He continues giving you kitten licks until you’ve somewhat come down from your high. 

Finally opening your eyes and sitting up, you watch him get to his knees and wipe his mouth with his arm. You then come face to face with his massive cock. You reach out to take it in your tiny hand by comparison, stroking it from the base to tip. Thick veins align the sides of his erection, followed by a blush pink top that leaked precum from its tip. It made your mouth water. Wanting to put it in your mouth, you finally give the tip a couple licks earning a soft groan from him. Needing more, you lean in to put it in your mouth. “If you do that, I’ll cum. And Daddy can’t wait,” he growls out.

With that, he flips you over on all fours. With your head down, your face feels the cool satin on your cheeks. Ass perched in the air, Sukuna admires his Queen. The one made for him. The one that will be his partner in power and life. The thought makes his erection pulse with need. He takes his cock and runs it up and down your slit, collecting your juices and coating himself with it. Taking your hips in his hands, he begins to enter you from behind. Stretching your hole over his large cock, he slowly pushes forward. You moan, relishing the stretch Sukuna gives you. He tries to contain himself, however once he was halfway in, he slams his hips into your soft backside and enters you down to the hilt. Screaming in both pain and pleasure you shifted forward. He must be over 10 inches long. The girth has you stretched wide open for him and you savor the feeling. 

“I can’t go slow for you, but I know you wouldn’t want that either way.” Sukuna says, pulling out and slamming back inside you. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” You respond. “Please, just fuck me.” 

You can sense the sinister smile he gives you. At that, his pace quickens. Fucking you from behind he doesn’t stop, wanting to hear you scream from him. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the room alongside your moans and his grunts. Squeezing your ass cheek with one hand, he takes the other and reaches down to circle your clit. You moan loudly.

“Come for me again. I want to hear you scream.” He says, pulling you up towards his chest. Your back meets his front as you listen to the bed squeak under both of you. Moving his hand from your hip he stops to palm your breast before making his way to your hair, gripping it and yanking your head to the side. “I said come for me princess,” he growls into your ear, hot breath sending wonderful shivers down your body. It sends you over the edge.

You scream, orgasm ripped from your body as he continues to fuck into you, his fingers on your clit have you shaking from release. Not wasting any time, Sukuna flips you onto your back and puts your knees up by your head, practically folding you in half.  Admiring you in the mating press, he slides his thick cock back inside you, fucking you through the end of your orgasm and stretching your release for as long as possible. Holding your knees back he slams back into your hole, using your body to chase his own release. 

“You take me so well, Y/N” he grunts. “Such a good girl, are you ready for my seed?” 

“Yes, give it to me, give it to me!” you scream in answer. 

“Then take it, take your power my Queen.” Locking eyes with yours, his hips slam into yours one last time as he finishes inside you. Filling you up you feel his hot release coat your walls as you milk him for every last drop. Eyes rolling to the back of your head you feel it. The pleasure from your orgasm, the love this curse gives you, and the power being absorbed into your body. Overwhelmed, you black out. 

You wake up covered in the black satin sheets. Looking over you notice Sukuna sitting by your side. As if waiting for you to wake up, he looks down at you with eyes filled with more emotion than you could process. He places his hand in yours and that’s when you feel it. The power. It surges to life from inside you like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You smiled up at him, a more sinister one to match his own. Leaping up you wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him. Running his hands through your hair he takes a handful and pulls your head back to admire you. Already feeling his erection grow, he grins down at you. “Forever begins today, my Queen.” 

Thank you for reading! Every Like & Reblog means the most. To send a request, please use the ask button through this page. &lt;3

[phantomsies]

die for me • a. artlert - kinktober part one

“..once I get inside, you’ll wanna die for me..”

kink: drug play

📝 other themes and things: producer/artist!armin, fem!black reader, drug use (coke use, percs in nether regions, you get my drift), fingering him for .2 seconds, mirror play, choking, oral sex (m. receiving), backshots, heavy kissing, squirting, spit play, pet names, prone bone

wc: 2.2K

📃 foreword: hi lovelies! just wanted to say thank you for allowing me to start fresh and supporting my work/transition throughout all of this. Also, being patient with me bc I’ve been slow as hell about posting again!

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

euphoria. It’s a feeling of excitement that manifests in different forms..a sensation achieved by the best experiences. Some get there by taking substances, others through thrill seeking. And for Armin Artlert?

“Oh God…yeah, that’s it, beautiful. All the way down…”

it was the fulfillment of his carnal desires…a constant high he’d chase with liquor or whatever narcotic he was choosing to divulge in for the evening. Just one of his many, less than savory vices. He knew it wasn’t a lifestyle he could maintain forever..and hell, it may even catch up to him sooner rather than when he’d like. But for now, he was enjoying the chaotic ride and every bump it had to offer along the way.

“Ahh!—fuck…good girl. Now hold it..I know you can do it, baby. Just take that dick to the back of your throat f’r me..all the way.”

it was an evening like the many others (y/n) (l/n) spent in the company of the famed producer and notorious bachelor. You’d spent the entirety of your day seated in a high chair as makeup brushes patted your gorgeous face. That delicate crown filled with luscious, kinky curls sat atop your head and was styled for a photoshoot. It was in the midst of a break that you’d return to your dressing room, greeted by a dozen roses..along with the charming smile of your beau. He was adamant on the fact that he despised interrupting your work but he truly couldn’t help but to sneak in some quality time with you. It was widely out of character for him and quite frankly, hell had a better chance of freezing twice over than Armin being monotonous! However, you’d invoked quite the change in him and it was so obvious, it was almost laughable. He’d inform you that he wanted you to finish up your job without pause but tonight, he’d be coming to scoop you up and he wanted you all to his lonesome.

fast forward, and that plan became reality. Now here you were..being all but defiled on his bedroom floor as you sat with your thighs slightly spread and upright on your knees. Saliva had pooled and trickled down from your mouth to those plump breasts he adored. Your pretty face practically smeared with spit and his precum. A beautiful, delicious mess, all of his creation and he loved it.

“Here, open your mouth, beautiful.” “Mmmm..thank you...”

With that, he greeted you with another lob of spit whilst gently tugging your head back. That’s when you’d begin to devour that thick cock whole..from the base to the tip with little resistance. Swallowing every inch and allowing him to hollow out your throat as if it were nothing. It was no unbeknownst secret to him that you were pretty damn freaky of your own volition. Hell, there were instances that you’d made him tap out but you were on an entirely different wavelength at the moment. You were practically insatiable and Armin was enjoying every waking second of it! A grin would stretch from ear to ear on the producer’s face when you’d take his shaft into your palm and stroke it. Meanwhile, your lips suctioned around those swollen balls, alternating between them to place gentle kisses and licks along the veined perimeter.

“You’re such a good slut for me, baby. Oh my gosh, I love you..you’re going to make me come so hard, I swear..” his tone was almost desperate and whiny as you continued on. But perhaps, the best was yet to happen when he felt a foreign sensation emit throughout his body. Those gorgeous brown eyes had become dilated and you were practically unstoppable.

“Am I making you feel good, daddy? Like when I spit on this fucking dick for you?”

“Yes, sweetheart. You’re doing fucking amazing. Make sure you get all that precum too..”

So much so, that your head would completely lower onto his shaft, taking the entire thing down your throat and holding it in place with minimal gagging. You’d stay there for a few seconds longer before coming up and emitting heavy strings of saliva with you. Once you did so, strings of your bodily fluids would seep down his pelvis and once it did, you’d use that makeshift lubricant to tease his other entrance.

“Fuuuck! Baby… ‘S so good..swear I should marry you right now.”

Nearly reducing him to a babbling mess. Constantly doting on you as you awoke all of his carnal desires. Exploring and opening his eyes to things he’d never experienced. He’d had his fair share of sexual encounters but there wasn’t one girl who’d ever pushed the boundaries the way you had. He had fallen in love all over again at that moment. One could even chock it up the heightened sensitivity you gained when taking drugs. It were almost as if both of you were in another reality and completely out of your heads. He’d even sniffle a few times, wiping his nose from the powdery substance he’d consumed earlier. You on the other hand, had been given a pink tablet that had melted on your tongue and since, (y/n) had lost all sense of morality and self control. The only thing on your mind was fucking him until he passed out and vice versa.

What was even more attractive was that you hadn't stopped moaning around his shaft and stroking your clit since you’d been down there. Becoming increasingly more aroused and soon, you’d need something to fill that ache in your womb. Fingering yourself hadn’t been quite sufficient, despite your orgasm already. With a deviant grin on your face, you’d begin to giggle and lob more saliva around the entire area; even making slurping motions on his that sensitive sack.

“Yeah? I’ll really let you do whatever you want to me then.” Ironic considering that you had already surpassed limits that other girls wouldn’t dare. That’s when he’d lean forward and place a deep kiss onto your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth and clutched your throat in the process.

“That’s very..very good to know. Here, do me a favor and crawl over to the mirror, sweetheart. I’ve gotten something for you.”

suddenly, you were on all fours..swaying your hips as you followed his instructions. Like a lynx in the wild who couldn’t be tamed. His view was consumed with that round, plump ass and those fat pussy lips in the back and it was enough to make his cock twitch once more. Coated in precum and spit, Armin stroked himself, bucking his hips up into his palm before joining you on the floor. His knees were grazed by the furry carpet whilst he mounted behind you. The giant reflective glass perfectly captured both of your expressions in that moment. Grinning from ear to ear, completely dazed but certainly not confused. You both knew exactly what you wanted. Those pupils had become dilated and the surrounding areas bloodshot…

“Look at you..so perfect. You have no idea how beautiful you are, baby…” it was whilst he was talking, the desperate blonde reached over and retrieved another small baggy from the bed. It was just one of many substances he’d procured for the evening. Affectionately dubbing them his ‘party favors’. He’d usher you to back up against him as he maneuvered so that he was somewhat positioned underneath you. With your thighs spread to the opposite side of his own and that ass placed atop his crotch, Armin would place a hand into the center of your back to ensure that it was slightly arched.

“There we go, sweetheart…keep it just like that.”

Meanwhile, he’d run a singular thumb between your wet folds and that puckering asshole. All of it was so perfectly on display for him. Sucking his teeth, the famed producer would go on to extract the pill from the baggy before teasing it against that other entrance. It took a moment for you to get acclimated but it didn’t take long for the sensation to kick in. That puckering hole accepted it with ease and immediately began to take effect. Strings of your arousal were already leaking but once he inserted that tiny tablet, you were practically insatiable. That dazed expression on your pretty face became all but a permanent fixture…drool seeped from the corner of your mouth and your pupils remained glossed over.

“G-aghhh…I love it..makes me so fucking wet..”

Armin, becoming ecstatic at the sheer sight alone uttered a laugh as he navigated your hips until that dripping cunt was positioned right above the aching tip of his cock. “Yeah, you always did like these…I swear you’re the only person who would let me do some shit like this.” “Well you’re the only man I’ve met, willing to do it..so I guess it works out.” The two of you exchanged another set of laughs before the real action began.

“Can I put it in now, angel?..”

“I’d be pissed if you made me wait any longer..”

“Somebody’s eager..that’s my girl. Now stay still.”

foaming both at the mouth and entrance to be stuffed full of him, (y/n) would take a glance back and await his next move. Suddenly, you’d find yourself releasing a loud moan and arching your back even further as that swollen tip penetrated your hole. The initial feeling was like none you had ever experienced..it always was as if it were the first time with Armin. Hell, that’s just how amazing the sex was. But it was something about those substances coursing your veins and adding fuel to the fire that hit differently. In a matter of seconds, you were both trembling but could not stop. Slowly but surely, he’d feed you deep yet rhythmic strokes, trying to maintain his composure.

“Oh my gosh…look at how wet you are already, sweetheart. This pussy’s so creamy.”

Just as you were beginning to become acclimated with those strokes, Armin would increase his speed and begin to feed you more rhythmic thrusts. His hips snapping against your backside as he dug his nails into your flesh. The collision of that thick ass made it all but impossible for him to maintain his composure.

“Mmmmph..that dick feels so good..so deep in me..”

“Yeah? I’m not even in your spot yet and you’re already dripping. Might have to feed you some of this shit more often, baby.”

the soft whine escaping your lips as your head tilted back and it allowed him the opportunity to coil his hands around your throat. It was then that you were met with a slight hinge of aggression. Not in a violent or mean way but it was stemming from the fact that he was overstimulated. Those drugs were coursing through your systems at rapid speed so any sensation you felt was increased tenfold. Every thrust, every thrash, every touch and every glide in and out of those wet folds were driving him crazy! The same applies to you..every stroke became far more intense than the last and that ball of climatic energy began to swell in the pit of your stomach, ready to burst at any second. Strings of dripping warmth began to stain his exposed thigh and the carpet underneath your clashing bodies. Before long, those minimal droplets would expand to a large puddle as he caught a glimpse of your face in that mirror…you’d watch your own reflection as your body jolted around and suddenly your eyes were at the back of your head.

“Shit! I’m fucking coming!..”

“Theeeere we go, sweetheart. Squirt on that fucking dick..good girl.”

Whilst you released a heavy stream of warm juices, Armin would keep a light grasp on your hips as he allowed you to ride out your orgasm. Those sweet moans and shrill cries pooled out along with those divine droplets of your bodily nectar. It wasn’t long before you’d find yourself writhing around underneath his entire body weight though…as he had maneuvered you into a prone bone position shortly after. Pinning those wrists behind your back, Armin would then plank himself atop of your trembling frame; bucking those hips against the rippling flesh of your ass. The sight of that recoil alone was enough to make him reach his own peak. But alas, he’d maintain his stride a little bit longer. After all, neither of you had any plans of quitting any time soon…the adrenaline of the moment and the influence of those substances were keeping you both amplified beyond what should have been normal human capacity. But perhaps, the strongest one of all flowing throughout your veins was pure, unadulterated lust!..an insatiable desire for one another that couldn’t be kicked with the strongest of rehabilitation. It was a night that had only reached its beginning stages and who knew what lay in wait next…

“I’m gonna play in all these pretty holes, baby…I don’t give a fuck how long it takes. Not gonna stop until we pass out..you know how I like it.”

and it was a venture that you were looking more than forward to!

[wileycap]

The Stupidest Things In Netflix's Avatar The Last Airbender: A List

a.k.a.

a whiny rant from someone who has dedicated far too many of their already limited number of braincells to atla i know it's just a tv show but come on this is what tumblr is for let me whine

For your consideration, with many spoilers:

5. Katara Being Smug After Kicking Jet's Ass

In the original, Katara is betrayed by Jet. You can feel the raw emotion in the words "I trusted you! You're sick, and I trusted you!" immediately followed by her concern for the innocent people Jet has seemingly murdered. It's not a triumph, it's a wound, and the next time she sees Jet, her first reaction is "kill on sight".

This is great. It's heartwrenching, it's humanizing, and Katara using violence against Jet isn't a victory for her. It's just pain.

In the live action, Katara very mildly chastises Jet for trying to kill innocent people, which is... an interesting characterization for her, to say the least. Jet then tries to grab her, immediately followed by Katara throwing him and freezing him. She then just tells him goodbye. Her tone is placid, almost unaffected.

And then Jet says "Look at the power you have. That's because of me!"

Katara: "That wasn't you. That was me."

And then she strides off with a small smile, and that's the end of that. Sokka and Aang are not present. It's an incredibly hokey moment that's meant to emulate the style of feminine empowerment, but it has none of the substance. It glosses over any human feelings of hurt and betrayal. All that the it ends up doing is removing a story beat for Katara.

4. The Badgermoles

"They're blind! They sense feelings and react to them! Anger, fear... but mostly love."

Katara and Sokka hold hands in a cave and it makes the badgermole stop attacking them.

The blind badgermoles. Navigate by... love.

Yeah.

Do I need to say anything? Can we all see (pun intended) how stupid that is?

3. Bumi Makes Aang Choose Between Killing Him Or Letting Himself Die To Make The Dumbest Point Imaginable

Remember Bumi? Aang's old friend, a fun, kooky king? Well, here he's an actual fucking psychopath.

He collapses part of the roof onto Aang, and Aang holds it up with airbending. Another part of the roof collapses on Bumi, and Bumi just... shrugs his shoulders, fully intending to die. Aang holds that one up as well, and Bumi, instead of helping, makes the dumbest fucking point I've ever heard about "making tough choices", and urges Aang to let the boulder crush him.

Again. Bumi, the fun, wise king, wants Aang to kill him.

The situation is defused by Katara freezing a little strip on the floor so that Sokka can very slowly slide on it and tackle Bumi to safety. I can not emphasize how slow his slide is. Running would have been faster. Bumi has time to look at him and say "Huh?" as Sokka slowly slides across the floor. Oh, yeah, they were led onto the scene by the love-sensing badgermoles.

Then it's Aang's turn to be dumb. He says "you CAN rely on your friends" and hands Bumi a friendship rock. Bumi is pacified for now, but there is no telling when his next Saw trap will activate.

This made me actually feel bad. I just. I kept expecting for it to turn into a secret lesson, like Bumi in the original show, but it never did. Bumi's just a spiteful psychopath who is easily swayed by the gifting of rocks.

2. Koh The Face-Stealer Has A Backstory Now

Why? Mother of Faces? What? No.

No.

Iroh Is Intimidated By Zhao, And Then He Kills Zhao

Ah, Live Action Iroh. The most ineffectual man on the planet.

So, Zhao has the Moon Koi in a bag, and is ready to stab it with his special stabbing implement. Iroh is standing right behind him. RIGHT BEHIND HIM. Iroh has been there the whole time. Iroh does not want Zhao to kill the fish.

Iroh says: "Whatever you do to that spirit, I'll unleash on you tenfold!"

Remember how in the original, where that was like a big, shocking moment that he got angry? And how Zhao immediately let go of the fish, only to then have his anger get the best of him? How Zhao attacked the spirit by surprise?

Well, here it's a little different. For one, like I already said, Iroh doesn't come in suddenly, he sort of gets bullied into looking for the spirit by Zhao. Then he looks for the spirit, and after Zhao finds it, then he decides that he really has a problem with killing the spirit. He did protest before, but then he kind of just caved and helped anyways.

He threatens Zhao, and Zhao just... brushes him off. "Spare me your empty threats." Then the firebenders next to Iroh sort of... glower at him menacingly, and Iroh looks worried.

Zhao offers Iroh a place at his side once he becomes Fire Lord, which, uh? Okay. Fine. I actually don't have a problem with Zhao wanting to be Fire Lord, that seems to be entirely on brand for him, but everything he does to get to that goal is just stupid.

Aang arrives, they talk, Aang says "I don't matter", and then Iroh, who has sidled past the Glowering Firebenders Who Do Nothing Else, shoots the fish out of Zhao's hands. And then, as Zhao is on the ground, reaching for the fish with his special stabbing implement, Iroh forgets that he can shoot fire out of his hands, and lets Zhao stab the fish.

AND THEN Iroh, who literally stood by two different times and let Zhao kill the fish, decides to kick everyone's ass. And the Glowering Firebenders do nothing. One of them just stands in the background. Iroh doesn't even attack that guy.

In the original, Iroh immediately leaps into action after Zhao kills the spirit by means of surprise attack, takes out Zhao's guards in about a second, and Zhao escapes.

Here, he doesn't do anything at first except help Zhao find the spirit he doesn't want to see killed, then back down, then do something, then back down again, then do something again, then forget that he can do anything, and then he does something again.

It's just... so dumb. (So dumb it's brilliant!) No! It's just dumb!

And then, fifteen minutes later, after Zuko has dueled Zhao, Iroh kills him. Iroh just barbecues him by striking him from behind. Gee, Iroh, if you were willing to do that, why not just do it when Zhao was holding the fish?

Dishonorable mentions:

The fact that all of the actors fit their characters so well and have some great moments, but the show just doesn't support their performances at all. I feel so bad for all of them, being robbed of a chance to shine by some truly awful writing, editing and direction

The Ocean Spirit making Godzilla noises

June flirting with Iroh (didn't they say that they wanted to remove iffy stuff from the original? Well, that whole thing was iffy in the original. Why didn't you cut it entirely?)

Zuko doing the jazz hands to charge an attack

All the clunky and unnecessary exposition (for example: after Aang turns into the Ocean Spirit, Yue immediately turns to Sokka and narrates that Aang has turned into the Ocean Spirit, for almost 30 seconds)

The fact that Aang can only communicate with each Avatar at their shrines

The Ice Moon

The Cabbage Man literally turning to shout his line to the heavens while fire rages around him

The Secret Tunnel song being shoehorned in for no reason

Iroh's entire backstory being shoehorned in for no reason

Ozai being a caring dad actually

Zuko being shocked that Ozai prefers Azula

Gran Gran's speech

The fact that they showed Gyatso being killed by Sozin (literally nobody needed a big action scene, because that's what it was, predicated entirely on the genocide of the Air Nomads)

And finally, the fact that Sokka and Yue's reason for going to the Spirit Oasis is that Momo was fatally injured.

[johnbrand]

On My Level

Antonio took a step out onto the balcony, hoping to get away from the commotion of the company retreat. Sometimes, working with such high-level execs was fun–Antonio often got to enjoy perks a younger Mexican-American boy could have never dreamed of. But now outside, Antonio was better able to take in view. Crisp morning air perfectly settled over the beautiful mountains and valleys below. After a few moments though, Antonio picked up on the stench of secondhand smoke.

“Tony! I didn’t know they just let anyone out here!” Jason chuckled, cupping up the end of his cigar. “Could’ve sworn this was the VIP section.”

Jason was one of the reasons Antonio hated his job. Stereotypical, privileged finance bros. They were the most arrogant people Antonio had ever met, to a point that he could not even believe they were real. It was like everything those men ever wanted came to them. Money, looks, love–it was disgusting and infuriating.

Annoyed, Antonio made for the exit.

“Stay, Tony,” Jason’s voice was more commanding than insistent. “Just perch against the bricks for a sec, I’ll be quick.”

For a split second, Antonio felt a tingle down his spine. He propped himself up against the wall, out of the window’s view. He just hoped this would be short, his turtleneck was getting warm and he already wanted another round at the breakfast buffet. A man of his fullness was hard to satiate.

“You know, Tony, I’ve been getting a real bad vibe from you,” Jason began, puffing away. “I think you’re a little too abrasive.”

“It’s Antonio,” Antonio corrected. “And is this what you really wanted to discuss?”

“Yes, Tony,” Jason let a crude grin slip. “Maybe if you simply listened to me, got on my level, your talent would be appreciated.”

Antonio wanted to go, asked his body to move, but instead it remained against the brick wall, almost as if it wished to hear Jason out.

After a strong exhale in Antonio’s direction, Jason initiated direct eye contact. “Let’s start by using your real name. You go by Tony, bro.”

With another slight shiver down his spine, Tony mumbled, “Okay.”

Jason cracked a small smile, “Let’s talk about respect too. Top of your list will be finance guys like me and you.”

Tony tried to process this, that strange sensation once again embracing him. “As in like, fraternizing with them?”

“Fraternizing, bonding, appreciating–all that good stuff, Antonio.”

“It's Tony.” Tony should have been peeved, but Jason was one of his kind, one of his bros. It was probably just an accident. Tony quipped, “That cigar isn't laced with anything besides tobacco, is it?”

A cocky smirk appeared underneath Jason’s douchey pornstache. “I think you’re the one using substances, dude. That outfit you’ve got is not our style.”

Before he could process the weird feeling, Tony felt a sense of disgust wash over him before he removed his clothes. With a subtle nod, Jason motioned to a folded outfit already beside Tony on the deck, who then proceeded to immediately strip down to his underwear.

“Before you put that on, Tony,” Jason reconnected their eye contact. “Just wanted to say those workouts are doing you wonders.”

“Uh, thanks I guess? I mean the gym is just a way to relieve stress, really,” Tony nervously replied.

Jason became more authoritative, “Don’t sound so timid, dude. If you’re gonna be a bro, then speak the language.”

Tony chuckled, shaking off the twitch. “You faggin’ out on me, bro? These muscles are for chicks only.” Covering up his perfectly athletic frame, Tony buttoned a crisp white shirt over his pecs and abs before tucking it into a suit trousers and covering those underneath a suit coat. The top was opened to showcase his tanned skin, giving just a glimpse of the glories that could be found below.

“Tony, with that combination of corporate and alpha, I’d think you are a changed man!” Jason commenting, locking eyes.

“Corporate…alpha…” Tony trailed off.

“Speaking of alpha, gotta do something about that jawline.” Jason’s voice was low enough that it was as if he was speaking to himself. “I’d say lantern jaw, small beard, and a pointed chin to match that tailored quiff I got you rocking.”

Tony absorbed the words, processing before responding, “I agree bro. There’s nothing hotter than when the ladies shove a hand through my hair while I shove this massive dick into their panties.

Jason snickered as Tony crudely cupped himself for emphasis, his facial structure stretching out into a more naturally arrogant shape. “Funny man, I thought you said smoking was the only thing hotter than a tight pussy.

After a moment, Tony produced a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it and taking that first magnificent inhale. Blowing his own cloud towards Jason, Tony lavished in the feeling of his smoke tickling his well-sculpted mirror.

“You’re so right, bro,” Tony remarked.

Jason grinned, “I always am.”

[blackynsupremacy]

A GLAMOROUS LIFE

boys with small talk and small minds

really don't impress me in bed

she said, "i need a man's man, baby"

diamonds and furs

love would only conquer my head

pairing: nicholas chavez x black!fem!reader

also starring: cooper koch and normani as valerie

summary: it’s the year 1987. you and your best friend, valerie, are rising college graduates and are part of one of the most affluent african american families of the decade. yachts, handsome yuppies, and diamonds, and grand soirées all sound like a ball, but to you, it’s so predictable. especially when it comes to dating. your not-so-friendly personality underneath all of that designer tends to be men repellent, until this one double date valerie sets up with a renowned tennis player and promising law student shifts your entire perspective.

inspo: fresh prince of bel-air, 1x19. cred to @fear-is-truth for the idea of an 80s au.

contains: lots of words, eighties au, reader is a bit toxic, yuppie culture, swearing, rudeness, alcohol consumption, arguing, nicholas gets reader together, enemies to lovers, fluff.

tags: @sabrinasopposite @supaprettyg @camiesully @zombigrlll @ellethespaceunicorn @rosiestalez @afrogirl3005 @afrowrites @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl

“valerie, for the love of god, don’t make me go on this date. i swear on daddy’s credit card that i can get you backstage passes for the bad tour. hell, i’ll even let you get with michael if it would change your mind. just please don’t make go on this double date.”

you groan and plead while watching your best friend since birth, valerie hill, primp herself at her pristine, white vanity for a night on the town. she had a date with this tennis player named, cooper koch. apparently he was so talented in the sport, that he was well on his way to the olympics within the next year. valerie mentioned that he was bringing his friend, nicholas. she didn’t really ask about him, what he did, nor if you were down for the double date, so you were practically forced into this. you both were the heiresses of the richest black families in the nation, so going out on dates to the most exclusive and expensive restaurants with the richest bachelors were the norm for you both. for you, the norm was getting so damn predictable. all of the guys you’ve dated in the past only care about two things: getting paid and getting laid. it was enjoyable at first, but as you grew older, you realized that life shouldn’t just be about drugs, money, and sex, it should have some sort of substance, some depth, some purpose. these guys never challenged you. they talk a big game with their cars and lavish spending, but it’s all a load of materialistic bullshit. each time you give them a chance, it’s like you want to put a combination lock on your pussy and forget the numbers. that’s the energy you give out: cold, distant, snarky, rude, anything to get these yuppie ass wannabe’s out of your face.

but here you were, already showered and clad in a cream satin robe with curlers in your hair. valerie was the popular one out of you both. besides studying to take over the family business, she was a model. her face would be on commercials, billboards, and magazines. it’s no wonder why she had a line of men begging to breathe the same oxygen as her. you were studying business as well and in your free time, you would compose new masterpieces on the grand piano you were gifted when you were fifteen after perfecting the instrument since kindergarten. even with the pressure of performances, recitals, and competitions, you grew to love writing a new piece in different styles. your idols consisted of stevie wonder and quincy jones. your parents never really knew, but you were so lucky to have valerie be a support system for your passion.

your inner turmoil was interrupted at the ring of valerie’s telephone to which she picked up and answered with the customary “hello”. your brown eyes peer at her figure as your ears tune into the conversation she’s having.

“hello?… oh, hey, cooper!…uh-huh. yeah, i can’t wait either…oh, is he? well, she’s definitely looking forward to meeting him.” valerie pauses to cut her eyes at you, in which you respond with the rolling of your own.

“okay…yes, three eighty five willard lane is correct. i’ve already told the guard at the gate your names, so just give it to him and you should be good to go. thirty minutes? okay…see you then! ciao for now!” valerie blows a kiss to the receiver with a smile on her made up face and hangs the phone up. she turns to you with those alluring deep, brown eyes that’s captivated so many hearts. with a huff of her breath, she stands up from the vanity stool and saunters over to you, donning a long hot pink sleeveless evening dress that hugged her body just right. it was cut low with diamond straps paired with matching pink opera gloves and an assortment of genuine diamond jewelry that was adorned on her ears, fingers, neck, and wrists. you feel her palms on your shoulders and she gives you a knowing glance.

“i know that you’ve been burned before, but for some odd reason, i got a feeling down in my gut that this guy is exactly what you’ve been looking for. if he’s not what you expect within an hour, we can go home.”

“no bullshit?” you questioned with an arched brow.

“no bullshit, but please try not to have that stank ass attitude at dinner tonight, y/n!”

“i might bullshit on that, valerie. you know when i hear something stupid, my attitude can’t help it. i’ll try for you though! not my best, but i’ll try.”

you retort with a smirk and release yourself from a giggling valerie. you take the last thirty minutes to get ready. you don your white, shimmery strapless evening dress with matching fingerless opera gloves. you perfect your hair and makeup to your liking. to say you looked beautiful tonight was an understatement. you bashfully receive the encouraging compliments from valerie in which you reciprocate the kindness. there’s a knock on the bedroom door and valerie opens it to reveal one of the maids, letting you know that there are two gentlemen in the foyer waiting. your stomach starts to rumble with dread, but then it serves to your memory that you only have to give this man an hour of your time if he’s not up to par, so fuck it, just get it over with.

“ah, shit. is it too late to take back what i said about michael jackson?” you curse under your breath, rolling your eyes slightly.

valerie nudges you playfully, her excitement buzzing in the air, but still some annoyance towards your irritability. “girl, don’t start. they just got here, damn! you’ll never know, you might end up diggin’ on him when the night is over. now haul ass!”

you suck your teeth and quietly retort, “diggin’ my ass.”

you grab your fur boas and designer clutch handbags. valerie takes the lead and you exit her bedroom to descend down the marble staircase of the hill manor. you keep your head down to watch your step, but then you hear a male voice circulating in the room.

“wow, you guys look absolutely stunning. the talk around town certainly don’t do you ladies any justice. pardon my language, but i’d tell those shit-heads to eat every word.”

“oh, my. why, thank you, cooper! you didn’t have to get the flowers, you know.” valerie responds with an elated smile.

you look up to see two handsome, strapping young men in finely tailored suits with one of their hands casually stuffed in the pocket and each with a bouquet of red roses in the other. they were caucasian and stood tall in the six foot one range with dark brown hair. one had curly hair, the other straight. one had brown eyes, the other had green. as valerie scurries down the rest of the stairs to greet the curly haired green eyed suitor with an embrace and peck to his cheeks to graciously receive her roses, you were still a bit reluctant to move any further down the staircase. you swallowed and you slowly follow her path, your sweaty palm smooths your dress down your waist before approaching the man with the scrutinizing, yet amicable brown gaze. you’ve been all too familiar with this look before. that’s how they ease you in. to keep your end of the bargain, you simply flash your award winning smile when he guides the bouquet in your direction with a casual grin on his lips.

“i’m nicholas. nicholas chavez. you must be valerie’s friend—uh, y/n l/n, right? i have to say i agree with cooper here. you look absolutely gorgeous and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. these are for you. may i?” he greets with such an air of politeness. well, all of the guys have to with their background before they show their true colors.

“roses? cute. original. sure.” you somewhat dryly respond. you thanked him and took the bouquet in one hand and gave your free hand to his for him to place his lips on the back, your stomach fluttered and your cheeks heated when his eyes nor lips didn’t pull away from you for a second. you pull your hand back before things got too awkward. after valerie calls the maid to put the flowers in a vase of water, she’s already walking out the door on cooper’s arm, leaving you and nicholas standing alone in the foyer. he turns his large frame to yours and juts his elbow out towards you,

“shall we? we don’t want to lose the reservation.” he quips with a smirk. so insufferable! typical yuppie. with a tight lipped grin, you nod and your hand circles around his—bulging bicep. well, fuck! nicholas was indeed jacked. you don’t let the tingles of your lower region let your guard down though.

“mm-hmm. i guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” you and him step out into the starlit evening and you stop noticing two cars, one red ferrari f40 and a black chevrolet corvette. wait a fucking minute. why the hell are there two cars? you could’ve sworn that valerie said that all four of you were taking a limousine. nicholas led you to the ferrari, while cooper led valerie to the corvette. before they could go any further, you took your hand from nicholas’ arm and called out valerie’s name in a faux friendly tone and smile.

“i apologize, fellas, but valerie, a word?” you hastily ask cutting your eyes to your best friend that protested by standing closer to cooper.

“but, y/n, we’re gonna be la—” you cut her short by taking her hand and scurrying a few feet from your dates, so they couldn’t hear your griping.

“valerie, you sneaky ass skank! you told me we were taking a limo. you ain’t said nothing about going in two separate cars! what the fuck are you trying to do!?” you hiss in a whispered tone, you were hotter than a firecracker. dumbfounded, your best friend responds with a shrug and glanced over to the confused men, sending them a wave with an embarrassed smile before shifting her focus back to you.

“girl, i didn’t know either. i guess cooper changed his mind about it before he left! i’m not mad about it though. this is our chance to get to know them one on one. i might even get lucky tonight, honey! besides, i don’t need you to scare off your and my date. ride with nicholas and don’t be fucking rude. just give him an hour. you promised.”

“not exactly.” you deadpanned.

“y/n!” she hissed in the lowest, yet sharpest warning tone.

“ugh. fine, i’ll ride with him. i’ll be—civil.”

“perfect. now let’s get our fine asses wined and dined.”

you both hurriedly walked back nicholas and cooper. like the gentlemen they were, they opened the passenger doors for you and valerie to enter their respective vehicles and buckle up. cooper and nicholas agreed to having cooper lead the way to the restaurant while nicholas followed behind. once they entered the driver’s seats, you four made your journey. you and nicholas didn’t ride in complete silence. the radio was filling the car with phil collins’ “in the air tonight” faintly in the background. nicholas eyes glanced over to your figure briefly. you sat in the passenger seat, one hand in your lap, the other propped up on the door as you looked out at the glistening city lights through the window, not uttering a single word. you seemed so cold. was it something he did? something he said? what he said earlier wasn’t really bullshit though. nicholas has encountered his share of women who were forgettable after a night of passion, but he honest to god thought that you were a breathtakingly beautiful woman with the world at her fingertips. he’d think you’d share the same sentiment as he did, but given your bored expression, perhaps not. he took the opportunity to turn the volume knob to the left to make room for small talk. nicholas clears his throat as he slightly grips the steering wheel, his eyes focusing on the road as he trails behind cooper.

“so, uh, tell me, y/n. cooper has told me that you and valerie are studying business. i assume that’s going well.”

you sigh at hearing the “b” word. it felt like such a curse. your head hurts at the very mention. you muster up an answer that’s right to the point.

“yeah, i better be or i’ll bring the greatest shame to the l/n family, so i suggest you shouldn’t assume, nicholas.” you retort dryly, gazing at your rose red manicured nails. nicholas felt a twinge of a tingling pain in his stomach. it’s almost eighty degrees out, but it just got to thirty in here. talk about a cold shoulder.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to pry or make you uncomfortable. i was just trying to make conversation considering it’s a da—” you cut him short.

“i know how a date works, man. what are you? a prosecutor trying to present to me the evidence of exhibit obvious?”

“matter of fact, i am, well— studying to be. i’m in the pre-law and criminology program at my university. just like you, it’s in my bloodline.”

“oh, well. i guess it’s a change from all the guys i’ve met. they’re always waiting for their folks to kick the bucket or step down, so they could inherit a position of power that’s worth twenty years of work, but get it because they were born. they’ll spend a shit load of money and the body’s not even cold yet.”

“woah—wow. i’ve never seen it in that perspective, especially not from an heiress like yourself.” nicholas’ brows furrowed and he exasperatedly whistled.

“wow indeed, nicholas. it’s a goddamn shame. what the hell does me being an heiress got to do with it, huh?” you quiz defensively, cutting your eyes to the male. nicholas takes a deep breath and combats with a firm and calm voice,

“hey, there’s no need to get defensive, y/n. i’m just saying most people from families like ours don’t typically share the same thought as you nor care—i believe it’s an interesting perspective, not a bad one, so i don’t blame you for believing that money could easily sway someone’s morals.”

“hm.” that’s all you could respond with and you returned your gaze to the window sitting in deep thought. who the hell did nicholas chavez think he was? why isn’t he combating you with the benefits of all that luxury? did this man just—sympathize with you? something was definitely up with nicholas and not to mention, you were being a bit of a bitch towards him and he was still holding a civil conversation with you. there had to be a narcissistic, egotistical bratty yuppie prick underneath that calm and collected gentleman-like demeanor. you had a scheme: you were gonna push that limit to make sure that asshole makes an appearance at that restaurant.

the guys smoothly pull up to the entrance where the security and valet are standing. they get out of their cars to open the doors for you and valerie before handing their keys and a handsome tip to the valet to get their cars parked. you gazed up at the illuminating skyscraper of the restaurant before you. THE OPULENT HAVEN flashed itself so vibrantly in the city that even the stars had some competition. it was hypnotic to say the least. you stop your gawking when you feel a large palm rest itself on the small of your spine. your brown eyes lean up to see the familiar pair of nicholas’, a grin playing across his chiseled face.

“i take it by the way you’re staring that this is your first time here. breathtaking, isn’t it?” he softly whispers in awe with a matching expression towards the structure. you inwardly groan as your stomach does that thing again. here he goes with this fake prince charming, nice guy act. who was he to assume that you haven’t been here? you’re y/n fucking l/n for god’s sake! oh, who the hell were you kidding? this was your first time at this place and it looked like a palace. you didn’t want to let him know that though. he’s probably been here a thousand times with a myriad of women. you never forgot your scheme to release the animal within him, so you smirk with a quirked brow in his direction before you shot back in the same whispered voice,

“and who are you to assume that i haven’t been here? it just looks very elegant, nothing more. you’re acting as if i’m a damn tourist to these kinds of establishments.”

“it’s not my intention to assume, y/n. i’ve just noticed that you could see and appreciate the beauty in this building like i do. if it makes you feel any better, this is just my second time around. you don’t have to be so guarded, you know? now, let’s get inside before our party leaves us behind. after you.” he gives you a once over to the see through revolving doors where cooper and valerie are standing at the hostess’ station awaiting your arrival.

“whatever.” you grumble under your breath, rolling your eyes.

“i beg your pardon?”

“nothing—let’s just get inside.”

with a silent nod and his hand still on your back, he takes the lead for you to meet with the other two. the hostess guides you all to your table and it wasn’t long before a waiter arrived. cooper takes the initiative to request the restaurant’s finest merlot, water, shrimp cocktails, and pâté as the starting course of the evening. when the server returns again, you all agree to settle on the main course of the beef wellington and lobster thermidor, and topping it off with the crème brûlée. cooper and valerie start to break the ice with everyone at the table. you sat with your eyes down at your purse and courtly spoke whenever spoken to without getting caught peering at the ticking clock every once in a while. who knew that a fucking hour would take a lifetime? it also didn’t help that when valerie was in her own world with her precious koch boy, nicholas tried every way possible to get you to open up and with every attempt, you respond to him with such a snarky and dismissive attitude. valerie tries her best to paint you as a decent human being to the best of her ability because she really likes cooper and the last thing she needed is you scaring him off because you’re pissed at her.

“so, nicholas! do you like music? y/n sure does. i bet you didn’t know that she’s very talented at the grand piano and has been doing performances and competitions when we coming up! she even dabbles in a bit of composing.” valerie chimed, gesturing her gloved hand in your direction like you were an exhibit on display.

“yeah, i love music and that’s actually really cool, y/n. how long have you been playing for?”

“since i was five. you’re about to be a top shit lawyer, right? you do the math and get the facts.” you retort as you take a sip of wine. valerie rolls her eyes and hisses your name as cooper places a hand on hers. his forest eyes giving her the reassuring look of “let it go”. cooper knew exactly what you were doing and as his best friend, he knew that nicholas’ politeness could only be pushed so far, they all just had to wait and see it all come to a head. after your response, you noticed how nicholas clenched his jaw, cleared his throat, and his composed expression returns with a tight lipped smile. what is this guy’s deal? where’s his backbone? he’s just like the rest of these sorry ass yuppie motherfuckers.

“shot in the dark, here. seventeen years?”

“ding, ding, ding! we got a winner!” you sarcastically cheered with a toast of your wine glass.

“that’s impressive. you must be really passionate about it. what type of styles do you typically play? classical? baroque? romantic? maybe jazz?” he leans back casually in his seat awaiting your answer. you were quite surprised that a pre-law student had such a knowledge in that area.

“anything that sounds good to my ears.” you announce with an air of confidence and shrug your shoulders. there was no utterance of a thank you, not nothing. you were gonna make sure this plan to expose him for who he truly is doesn’t all go to hell. it was pissing you off that with every brash comment you made, he would kill you with cordiality.

it was pissing you off so much that even the server was catching stray bullets from you.

“excuse me, would you tell whoever the hell prepared this dish to please remake this? there’s no way this was right because i’ve had better at a fucking cheesecake factory.” the server stood with such timidity and tried plead their case on behalf of the chef.

“ma’am, we understand your concern, but i assure that the head chef has made it—“

“wait a minute, you’re telling me this is the work of your head chef? well, i guess it’s time for him to head back to culinary school because this is fucking terrible. this is ALL terrible!” your voice rose with frustration as you throw your lap cloth down on the table like a child having a tantrum and stood from your chair with your arms firmly crossed. all you could think was fuck this restaurant, fuck this date, fuck valerie, and fuck nicholas for foiling your plan. before you could bitch and berate any further, nicholas also stood up from his chair. “wait, nicholas, don’t—”, valerie tried to open her mouth to protest and deescalate the situation, but cooper gently grabbed her wrist, shaking his head to let valerie know that nicholas had this. she just needed to watch. he was composed, but he held a perfect posture with his chest was puffed up, he kept his hands flat at his side, and he looked at you with such contempt, such disappointment, before his baritone voice dominated the room.

“no, valerie, this is not okay. i’m sorry, but i’ve got to get this off my chest.” he paused. his serious, deep gaze not pulling from your curious eyes before he resumes speaking, “y/n, your behavior this whole night was completely inappropriate and unacceptable. i’m not exactly sure what your problem is with me, but i’ve done nothing, but try to be civil. i don’t know what type of guy you may think i am, but where i come from, manners and decorum count a lot wherever and to whoever, so i can’t just sit back and let your nasty, smart-ass attitude continue. you owe every single one of us an apology, especially to that poor server. now, if you refuse, we’ll take you back home and continue the night without you. do i make myself clear?”

you stood there silently, still trying to keep your guard up, but the muscles of your crossed arms loosened. the furrow of your perfectly arched brows softened and a small smile crept on your painted lips while you listen to nicholas chavez set you, y/n l/n, in her rightful place. he was respectfully getting you all the way together and boy, did you get such a titillating rush from how he was so assertive yet, still had that integrity. he was exactly the type of man you’ve been craving for in your circle. the type of man that wasn’t afraid to stand up for what’s right no matter how many times he’s given the benefit of the doubt. he’d make one hell of a lawyer. it was like you were seeing stars when his eyes bore into yours, awaiting an answer. you were so stuck in staring at him, his colossal frame stepped forward to be in closer proximity to yours. the warm chocolate hue of his pupils turn darker as they continue to stare down into your own. nicholas takes the opportunity to repeat his question with an added firmness, considering he didn’t get an answer the first time.

“y/n, do i make myself clear?”

you swallow.

“yes, nicholas.”

you were so entrapped in his softening gaze when you gave in. valerie sat in awe and confusion as she witnessed you humbly apologize to everyone for your behavior, including the server and the night went on pleasantly. plus, you decided to give nicholas more than an hour, you decided to give him a chance. there was something about him that had some potential you craved to see more of. you weren’t always the one to get second dates, but as you attentively indulge in amicable conversation with him, you’d hope you were redeemed enough to get that chance to see nicholas again. alone. although you hated him less, he was still a fine specimen of a man. he gave you a sense of warmth. that warm feeling didn’t leave when he drove you home after dinner. it didn’t leave when he walked you to the door. it sure as hell didn’t leave when he bid you a sweet goodnight with another lingering kiss to your hand. the image of his beautifully sculpted countenance burned deep within your brain. nicholas was even the type of guy that made sure you entered your home first before disappearing into the night. a regular yuppie asshole would speed off as soon as you closed his car door. your heart pounded within your chest as you stared at the ceiling while immersed in your satin rose duvet. every single shitty word you’ve ever said and every judgmental thought you’ve had towards nicholas alexander chavez was immediately transformed into immense respect and burning desire.