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pboogerswbb · 1 day ago

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TOO LOST IN YOU - pt II

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc (Valerie) (i know first part is x reader... i'm sorry for changing to an oc but it makes more sense in a multipart series)

playlist, part I

DISCLAIMER!: this is fanfiction (note the word FICTION), this is not a true depiction of what i think paige is like, this is purely fiction for entertainment purposes

Warnings: toxic!paige, language, some sexual thoughts but no smut in this one (sorry guys), paige is an asshole fr

Wordcount: 4.9k (sorry)

A/N: i got so much love and so many people asking for more after the first part <3 ty all i'm so grateful! this will likely be around 7 parts so please buckle up lol. ALSO I'M SORRY FOR NO SMUT but let me cook guys it'll get good. the point of this part is to get inside paige's head and understand why she is the way she is, things will speed up in the next part i swear. OK GO READ ILYSM MWAH

It’s hard being Paige Bueckers. Not every 23-year-old had to deal with the kind of pressure I did. Most of the time it felt like the whole world was watching me, waiting for me to fail. It used to bother the shit out of me but after all the injuries, everything I’ve been through, I thrived on it. I knew I would prove them wrong - prove that I’m great, that I’m me. Just like my dad would tell me, over and over again. I knew I was great, so greatness was expected. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t come with a great deal of pressure. I always said pressure is a privilege. But sometimes when I lay in bed alone after a game, even a win, the pressure consumed me. I didn’t like to be alone. So I went around different girls’ beds, like they meant nothing. Because they didn’t - they were just a distraction from my own mind. Like I said, it’s hard being Paige Bueckers - hard being me.

“You okay babe?”

I’m shaken out of my thoughts, returning back to earth, back to the small bed I was lying in. The brunette next to me nuzzles her nose into my arm, watching me with that look I knew too well. Like she wanted something from me. I hated when girls looked at me like that.

I clear my throat, trying not to flinch as she wraps her arm around me. “Yeah Zoe, ‘m fine,” I murmur, letting her press herself to my side, her body sticky from our prior activities. Zoe was a cuddler, so she was usually last on my roster. It’s hard to plan your escape when a girl clings to you like a koala and worst of all, wants to sleep like that all night. I never got that, cuddling while sleeping. It gets hot, sweaty and cramped, I find it hard to believe anyone actually enjoys it. People just think they do because they’re in love or something. And I can’t afford to be in love. I had a natty to win.

Zoe’s slender finger brushes through my blonde hair and I can feel that claustrophobic, uncomfortable tightness inside me. Like I had to get out. Her dorm was dim and the air was heavy and slightly humid from the second round I had insisted on. The sheets stuck to my skin uncomfortably and her bed made this annoying sound everytime I moved or even breathed.

I turn my gaze to Zoe who’s looking at me, all googly eyed. Oh God. She smiles wide and presses a kiss to my cheek. The scent of her shampoo lingers in the air, the smell of banana and some kind of citrus. I had never liked banana scented things.

“Uh, anyway that was fun,” I mumble, and sit up on the bed, forcing her off me as gently as I could. “But I got practice early,” I add, reaching for my t-shirt and throwing it on.

I don’t notice the offended look on Zoe’s face. I grab my phone from the floor, checking my texts urgently.

Yo you tryna do a lil sum tonight?

I know ur not workin sooo we could have a lil fun like we did the other day

Valerie?

I sigh, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten as I stare at the read receipt underneath the texts. I tap on the back of my phone case impatiently, wondering if sending a fourth text would make me pathetic. Maybe I should just call her? Nah, I must be trippin.

Since I met her at Ted’s, Valerie was the first I called when being in my bed alone was tearing up my mind. But it didn’t mean anything, she was good in bed, good at making me forget who I was when I needed to. Also, I liked how she smelled, like coconut. And when she tangled her legs with mine I didn’t shutter or pull away. Sometimes I even wrapped my arm around her, pulling her into me. Not because I needed her. But because her body felt good against mine.

“Aw baby really?” Zoe whines in an overtly soft voice, wrapping the blanket around her as she scoots up on the bed. Her plump bottom lip, swollen from the rough kissing earlier turns into a pout. I quickly avoid her gaze, my eyes landing right onto the floor looking for my pants. “I wanted to cuddle.” Figures.

“I know baby, me too,” a lie, she would never know that though. “Can’t keep my hands off you if I stay tho and I need some sleep.” I lie more, never looking at her. She buys it though, like she does every time. It’s not like I liked to lie, but I also didn’t like disappointing people. Especially girls that looked at me like that. It would kill her to know I texted three girls after Valerie didn’t answer, and the only reason I was here was because Zoe was the fastest to reply..

I leave Zoe like that, naked in bed, pleading with her eyes. Sometimes I felt bad, because I could tell she really liked me. But then I remembered how hard it is to be Paige Bueckers, and I didn’t feel so bad. My job was to be great on the court. Everything else was just background noise.

I sit by the court, my chest heaving, throwing my head back to down some water. The squeaking of sneakers echo all around me, blending in with the sound of Geno’s voice screaming at some of the girls working on plays. Coach had been killing us today, not happy with how the last game had went. We had still won, but that was merely a reason to celebrate in his eyes.

All day I’d been missing shots that should’ve been child’s play for me. I couldn’t help but beat myself up. I was distracted, unfocused. I had been killing myself on the court, hoping it would bring me to my senses. Geno had been the one to tap me on the shoulder and force me to take a break I wipe the sweat off my face into the inside of my shirt, and grab my phone.

Bro are u alive?

I’m gettin worried lowkey

i’m fine paige

Five days. For five days Valerie hadn’t texted me back anything but that. I clench my jaw in frustration, shaking my head to myself. It made no sense to me - yeah we had a falling out but that’s what we did. We bickered and then we kissed and made up, and that’s what we had been doing for months so why was she acting like this now? Well… maybe calling her a psycho bitch last week hadn’t been the best move on my part.

I don’t know why the things she did bothered me so much. When she didn’t laugh at my joke, when she didn’t answer my texts. I don’t know why I felt a constant nervousness swirl inside me when she was mad at me, I had no reason to care. I guess the pussy was just that good, it was tricking me into thinking I did.

“Va-le-r- oh that’s the girl from Ted’s!” KK slams her hands on my shoulders, coming up from behind me, peeping at my phone screen. In a panic, I lock my phone, hiding it from her view.

“Bro, you heard of privacy?” I complain, shoving her playfully as she sits next to me on the ground. KK snickers, her nose scrunching a little as she does.

“Not since you started peeing with the door open,” the shorter girl next to me argues and I scoff loudly, my mouth wide open.

“One time! And I was drunk!!” I groan, my voice rising a little and eyes going wide. CD quickly turns around and shushes us, shaking her head. Me and KK quickly shut our mouths, my cheeks turning a little red from the scolding.

KK looks at me with raised brows, and then at the phone, and then at me again. Most of the team knew how I kept myself busy when I wasn’t training, but KK was the one who had joined me those countless times at Ted’s and sat with me at the corner table as I watched her. Valerie. There was something so intriguing about her I just had to keep coming back. I always thought once I’d get her to my bed and have my way with her, I’d be done with her, which is how it usually goes. Before I realised that one time turned into five, which turned into me being in her bed getting her right, not even caring about my own most of the time. Getting her off got me off. Just thinking about the way she looked when she came, the way her back arched, her perfect mouth fell open - I really had to stop thinking about her. Why was it so goddamn hard?

It won’t be hard to find another Valerie if she’s gonna keep this difficult act up.

“Girl trouble?” KK asks, her tone more genuine and I roll my eyes, looking at her sideways.

“Yea right,” I chuckle sarcastically, leaning my elbows to my knees. “Just need to find a new one is all.”

KK lets out a small laugh, sipping her water bottle. “The five you got not enough?” She jokes.

I smirk a little glancing at her. “Four,” I correct, as if that made it better somehow. “Just need someone… new,” I mumble, knowing it was the best bet to get my mind off Valerie. I’m sure eventually I’d find someone who was just as hot. Someone who also smelled like coconut.

“Then what do I say to Zoe.”

“Wh- Zoe?”

KK nods and grins at me. “She texted me asking about your shoe size or sum, wanted to get a gift for you.”

“She- she what?” My voice is full of shock and I can feel the claustrophobic tightness quickly grow inside me. I had never given her KK’s number. She was doing too much. KK just nods, clearly finding the situation amusing.

“Bro…” I groan quietly, as to not piss off CD again, and lean my head forward, resting my forehead against my arms. Zoe clearly hadn’t understood what “just fucking around” meant. Sometimes shit slipped out of my mouth, sure, but I never let her think I liked her. I had to be careful with her.

KK kisses the her teeth and is still nodding. “Yeah… probably time to let her go huh?”

“That bitch is crazy I swear,” I murmur and KK laughs out loud again. I punch her arm, reminding her to keep quiet - an impossible task for KK. Before I can stop myself, the words just slip from my mouth.

“Ted’s tonight?”

KK looks at me pointedly. “Valerie workin’?” she teases but I shake my head sternly.

“No man, fuck Valerie.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth. “Just need to find a new one, k?”

“You sure you’re not just gon’ ogle at her all ni-”

“KK.” I say sternly

KK nods. “Ok,” she repeats but I can tell from her tone she doesn’t buy it. She shuts up though knowing she could tease me about anything but anything about Valerie got under my skin. Truth was Valerie was working today. I just needed to see her just for a second. Just to know if I was overthinking it, or if she was really icing me out.

The Friday night had brought many other students to Ted’s as well, the bar pretty packed and the chatter loud over the music. KK had convinced Ice to join us so the three of us made our way in. The best thing about crowds was it made it easy to blend in, even for us. We push our way through to the bar, my eyes immediately searching for a glimpse of Valerie’s golden brown hair or her wide eyes. All I needed was to see her, I told myself. Even for a second. Then the twist in my stomach would straighten out.

“What can I get you?” The perky voice of the redhead asks over the buzzing crowd. I think her name was Natalie or something. Ice looks over the flyers on the bar, advertising a range of new drinks.

“Let’s try some of these,” Ice suggests and I grab the flyer from her hand. I didn’t really come here to drink so I couldn’t have cared less what we ordered. Especially now I realised Valerie wasn’t even here.

“Uhh yea can we get three Aperol Negronis,”

“You won’t like it,” a stern, but sweet voice interrupts the conversation. I’d recognise that voice anywhere.

Valerie steps out from the back, pinning her hair away from her face and for a moment our gazes meet. Her dark, wide eyes make me let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. For a moment I want to jump over the bar and touch her, to make sure she was really there and not just a mirage of my desires.

“W-why not?” I ask, my voice uncharacteristically shaky. Only with her I got like that. Suddenly my throat felt dry and the nervous twist in my stomach was turning into something you could only call butterflies. Of course I knew it couldn’t be butterflies, because that would mean I cared. I couldn’t afford to care. I didn’t have the time for distractions. I had a national championship to win.

Valerie scoffs looking away from me, ignoring me as I chase her gaze. “Because I know you won’t,” she says. The way she thought she knew me that well irked me. Still, I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t beaming at the fact that I had her attention after a week of trying to chase her down.

I can’t help the pout that forms in defiance. She’s still ignoring me, pouring drinks for a group of boys clearly ogling at her - which only irked me more.

“Well… I want three of them,” I say matter of factly, trying to prove a point.

“Whoa Paige, maybe we should just get a shirl-” Ice chuckles but I shake my head.

“Three Aperol Negronis,” I dictate. Valerie’s stern eyes finally look at me. She looks almost a little scary, not pleased with my tone. “... please.” I add urgently, not wanting to get on her bad side. I guess some would say I already had.

Wordlessly, Valerie rolls her wide eyes and gets to mixing the drinks. I allow my eyes to wander for a moment, noticing how the white shirt of the work uniform hugged her body, the curve of her breasts making my mouth water. Just seeing her was enough to ignite the fire deep in my abdomen. The things I would do to leave with her tonight and take her to my bed, like I had so many times before. I would even settle for just some kissing. Just wanted to let my hands wander down her body, squeeze and feel where I wanted, with no urgency. I needed to feel all of her, wanted to drown in her.

“By card orrr…?” Valerie asks, clearly waiting for the payment. My eyes had gone glassy, and my lower lip had a small dent from the way I’d been biting down on it. I blink stupidly at her, struggling to calm myself down.

“I got it,” KK murmurs and slides her card to Valerie. I grab my drink, and the smell is enough to make my face scrunch up in disgust. I swear it smells like battery acid, and as I take a sip I notice - it also tastes like battery acid. I swallow the orange liquor, it burns on its way down making me cough a little. Valerie was watching me amused. I hated when she was right.

“People actually drink this and like it??” Ice asks, her voice hoarse from coughing as well. KK nods agreeing but I’m too stubborn to admit defeat.

“I actually like it,” I lie with a straight face, my fingers twitching around the glass as I try to get over the bitter aftertaste in my mouth.

“Oh right,” Valerie says, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she turns to another group of customers. I can’t help reach over the bar, my hand grabbing her arm. She turns back to face me, icier than I had ever seen. It shocks me enough that I let go of her, taken aback.

“What?” she asks, her voice filled with annoyance.

“You seen my texts?” is all I ask, and it comes out a little too desperate for my liking.

“Yes,” Valerie says matter of factly. I wait for her to continue but she doesn’t.

“Uh… well thought we’d link up or something,” I add, shifting on my feet as I do.

Valerie sighs in frustration and takes a deep breath to compose herself.

“I’m good,” is all she says and flashes me an ice cold smile. I feel a strange pang in my heart. She had iced me out before, but not like this. Usually seeing her face to face was enough for her to forget our petty little arguments, enough to get her on me again. “I have work,” she adds before finally returning to serve the other customers.

I stand there for a moment, astonished. An uncomfortable ache that had been wavering in my chest was growing too intense for me to ignore anymore. Maybe it was all my fault after all. I had told her I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else and in the moment I had meant it. But then I remembered the stakes. Last year to win a national championship, last year to prove my greatness. I wasn’t going to mess it up just because of some girl. A relationship would be nothing more than a distraction, an unnecessary responsibility. I had enough on my plate. Valerie was selfish for wanting me all to herself. She didn’t understand what she was asking for. Maybe calling her a psycho bitch wasn’t so far off.

I feel someone bump into my back and turn around to find a girl, cheeks blushed and apologetic. I see her eyes widen in recognition - it was always that moment when I knew I could have this girl if I wanted.

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m a little drunk,” the girl giggles and I offer her an easy smile. I consider taking this girl home, imagining the way I’d lure her into my bed, just a little bit of sweet talk and a smirk would be enough, a hand on her waist, thumb rubbing her skin and soon she’d get this look on her face like she had to have me. It would be so easy, and I wouldn’t have to think about Valerie at all.

But the pain in my chest doesn’t go away, even when I let my mind wander further, how this girl would look underneath me, whimpering while I fuck her. It did nothing to make the pain go away.

“‘S fine,” i murmur and decide to ignore the way she was blinking at me, biting her bottom lip. I grab my drink from the bar, and push past her, finding KK and Ice sitting at our usual table. They both look at me, but don’t ask where I’d been. They both knew better. I sip my drink, cursing to myself in my head about ordering it. With sheer stubbornness I finish it quickly, finding that easier than taking small sips.

“You’re never picking what we drink again,” KK scoffs, copying me, her face scrunching involuntarily when she finishes her drink. But I barely register her words, as I lean back in the chair, head tilting back to watch Valerie.

She’s giggling with Natalie, throwing her head back in amusement. The chatter in the bar is deafening, but I swear I could hear her laugh in my head vividly. Like my brain had memorised each tone of her voice. There was something different about Valerie, she always shined the brightest in every room she was in. Even the dingy bar was lit up by her. She wasn’t even necessarily extremely lively. It was her mere presence that just made everything better.

I noticed it the first time I ever saw her, early september. All she did was walk past me on campus, talking lively into her phone. It was her voice I had heard before even seeing what she looked like. Her voice had been enough to make me have to see her. Of course she hadn’t even looked my way, not even a glance. That was the moment I knew I had to have her.

“You enjoy it?” Valerie asks KK and Ice, fully ignoring me as she walks to our table to clean up. I watch the golden bracelet she always wore dangling on her wrist as she grabs the empty glasses. I lean back and tilt my head to look up at her, needy for her attention. Licking my lips I look her up and down, that usually worked enough to get her naked. But now, she didn’t even glance at me. Annoyance grew within me as she chatted with KK, laughing at her jokes.

It was then when my eyes moved from her lips to her neck that I saw it - a dark bruise underneath her ear, right on the spot where she liked to be kissed. I knew, because I had left many bruises there and gotten scolded for it. But this wasn’t mine. This was someone else’s.

“Okay well see ya around,” Valerie smiles and turns to take the glasses to the back. I feel the pang in my chest quickly flip, turning into anger. I was furious. Who did she think she was? Sleeping around with someone else, not answering my texts, letting someone else mark her like that. I felt my body turn hot, and without a word to KK and Ice I get up from my seat, nearly knocking it over as I take quick strides to reach Valerie, following her into the back, ignoring the STAFF ONLY sign on the door.

My steps are heavy and loud as I reach her, standing by the sink, handling the dirty glasses. I was shaking my head to myself, trying to control my anger. But it was getting the best of me.

“Staff only plea-” Valerie starts and turns to me, unable to miss the redness of my face, the clenched jaw and the way I was biting on the insides of my cheeks. “Paige?” she asks, furrowing her brows, confused.

The pounding in my head grows and I let out a scoff, not feeling in control of myself. My brain was moving faster than I could follow, I felt lightheaded. I felt furious.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, my voice loud. I didn’t really care about being overheard.

“Huh?” Valerie asks, clearly bewildered, but already getting defensive in response to how I was acting.

“What, you don’t text me, call me or nothing? Because you’ve been too busy fucking some other bitch?” I yell, my hand pointing to her neck. Valerie’s eyes widen in realisation but quickly turn angry too.

“I- WHAT?” She yells back and takes a step towards me.

“Don’t play dumb. So who is it?” I say sternly, grinning bitterly at her, my eyes looking down at her.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes shaking her head which only infuriates me more.

“I said. Who. Is. It?” I repeat, grabbing her arm. She pushes my hand off her, anger growing on her face as her brows furrowed further.

“How is it any of your business who I sleep with Paige?” She argues.

She had a point. We weren’t exclusive. Matter of fact it was pretty hypocritical of me to be so angry when I had a roster of girls on my phone, ready to answer my calls at any time of day. My anger had taken over though, and the little sense I had when it came to Valerie, was completely gone.

I throw my head back and chuckle bitterly, provoking her further. “See I knew you’re a lotta things but didn’t know you were a slut too,” I hiss, the words slipping out without much thought. I couldn’t think of anything but how furious I felt.

Valerie laughs loud, but it’s not the sweet laugh I was used to. It was a bitter, angry laugh.

“Me?! You’ve slept with every girl that swings your way on campus and even some that don’t! You’re the slut Paige!” she screams, her wide eyes burning with anger, her finger coming up to point at my face. It pissed me off, the way it was assigning blame, like all of this was my fault. Like it wasn’t she who slept with someone.

“I don’t owe you anything!” she declares, her voice revealing a hint of hurt, the way it cracked slightly. “I’m done with you. I’m serious Paige. Done,” she adds, her voice calmer, but more authoritative. “Now get out of my bar.”

My face was hot and red, my chest was heaving and my head spun. The hurt in her voice made me waver, made my chest ache more. I blink at her stupidly as she turns back to the dishes, already missing having her attention. I was fine with the yelling, the fighting, as long as it meant she was looking at me, or talking to me. But now she’s done with me? Fine, so was I. Wouldn’t take me longer than a day to find a new Valerie.

“Pshh whatever,” I murmur and storm out of the back, heading fast towards the exit. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my chest felt tight and I could taste the bitter Aperol on my tongue still. It made me nauseous,

I’m gasping for air once I feel the chilly breeze of february hitting my skin. The silence outside was overwhelming, forcing me to realise the rapid pace of my own thoughts. My mind was swirling with flashing images of Valerie, on top of someone, looking down at her like she did at me, the idea of her moaning someone else’s name made me sick.

“Fuck!” I shout, unable to control myself. A group of girls near me turn to look at me but return to their conversation when I sit myself down on the curb. What a standard I was setting for student athletes everywhere right now.

My eyes burn and before I notice, a tear rolls down my cheek. I bury my face into my hands and rub my jaw, my anger easing with each exhale. I didn’t know why I was crying, I didn’t understand any of this. I couldn’t believe the things I had said, the way I had acted. I was supposed to be disciplined, in control, but I felt so out of control when it came to Valerie.

“Paigey…” KK murmurs and suddenly I realise her and Ice are standing in front of me, looking down at me sympathetically. Embarrassed, I wipe the tears away and try to steady my breathing.

“Uhh sorry just gimme a sec guys,” I sigh looking at the ground. They sit on either side of me, wrapping their arms around me. I lean into Ice’s shoulder and I’m grateful how they don’t pry, or talk. We just sit there in silence for a while.

I take a deep sigh and lift my head back up, chewing on my bottom lip. I glance at both of the girls sitting next to me, grateful for the friends I had. At least I got one thing right.

“I dunno what just happened,” I sigh, shaking my head thinking back to my behaviour. The shame I felt made my cheeks turn a shade of red.

KK chuckles softly and ruffles my hair affectionately. “I do,” she mumbles.

I furrow my brows and turn to look at her. She looks back at me like whatever was about to come out of her mouth was obvious. KK and Ice glance at each other before KK opens her mouth to speak.

“Bro you have feelings for her.”

Oh?

Oh.

My mouth parts in realisation as I move my gaze from KK to the pavement. It’s just us now, sitting in silence, the sounds of passing cars and the muted sounds of the bar the only noise in the chilly evening.

“C’mon P boogers, let’s go home,” Ice says, standing up and reaching a hand down to lift me up.

KK hops up and nods. “You need some Tru Fru,” she adds.

With a nod, I let them pull me up, following them to the car. I had feelings for Valerie. Shit. I'd just have to find a way to get over it - I couldn’t afford all this. Not right now. Not with the world watching, waiting for me to fail. Not with a national championship on the line.

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NEXT ONE WILL BE HOTTER I PROMISE

#too lost in you #lilas writing #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x female oc #wnba x oc #paige bueckers smut

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mailuvsjayke · 3 days ago

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Listening and watching the no doubt mv, that hyung line might be into semi public sex LIKE THEY BE UP DOING THE NASTY AT WORK 😭😩

18+ mdni

note: mmm nonnie just think about it!!!!

imagine being hyung line's higher up, often looked with admiration and respect by others in the office because of your position, but what the employees don't know is the fact that each of them like to fuck you real good in your office !!!!!!!

Heeseung is like a partner to you, your right hand man, the person you'd go to when you need to deal with heaps of documents and tasks to at least keep you at bay.

And in return you'd let him fuck your throat real good and make sure his cock memorizes how it feels being wrapped around by your warm cavern, dripping with saliva and drool, somehow finding a way to force your throat deeper down his dick so good you dont even know if it's possible. He'd make sure to fuck it real hard you'd be hoarse during your next group meeting just to poke teases and fun at you afterwards.

Jay, more firm, and definitely sharp, rather wanting to express his appreciation silently through acts of good workmanship, such as bringing you coffee and offering to take over charge for other employees to keep you on your feet during busy weeks.

And in return you'd let him fuck you onto your work table, legs mounted on his shoulders without bothering to put important documents to the side, making sure he'll cum over and over inside you until your belly bulges against your high waisted pencil skirt. Your company had soon complained to you in the future about how much paper has been wasted, probably from you having to secretly reprint several documents due to both of your juices ruining them.

Jake's like a typical golden retriever, open to obeying you, not hesitating to do tasks when told, and his attendance is nearly perfect, as well as helping others around him no matter the status. And he never forgets to greet you or give you a short relay of everything you need to do for the week.

In return you'd let him eat you out, stuffed up in some random room in the building, the more you cum the deeper he burrows his nose into your poor and abused cunt without pause. His whimpers and pants turning you on and sending your already overstimulated cunt a new bolt of pleasure and wetness. Even when you're crying and thrashing against his face, he just won't let up, only looking at you with that grin, only to plunge back in to fuck you with his tongue a little harder. Janitors have been complaining about odd sticky stains around random rooms, though you don't dare address it.

Sunghoon, one of your younger employees, despite not being so engaging and rather silent, he's sharp and gets his work done without struggle, submitting his tasks to you earlier than intended and seeing his gaze linger a little too long on you before he quietly offers to take over other people's unfinished tasks to get closer to you.

In return you'd let him in, letting him fuck your holes for every task he'd finish, making sure to get the chance to cum anywhere in or on you to grab what he can when he knows the others are doing the exact same. He's watched you fucked them, memorizing what pleasures you the most, and whispering how he'd do so much better than them, how you only need him and he could fulfill every part of you. Employees have started to question why tasks are suddenly being dismissed from them, not knowing you secretly allow sunghoon to accomplish them all just to get a chance to fuck you in that lust filled office room of yours.

After giving them back what you owe all the time, coming into work so sore and so open, your mind riddled with thoughts of all four of them, you wonder if they'd be willing to fuck you all at once.

Yet you know how taboo these work dynamics are, are you really willing to put your career on the line for some quick fucks?

-------

i was just gonna post this by itself until nonnie said this and decided to just answer their ask with the little drabble i made for no doubt

bro jake and heeseung were so insane i literally busted a nut

sorry i went mia for a bit luvs</3

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vanesycho · 2 days ago

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f!reader x bf!vernon | m.list | wc:0,8k

request:hii can i please request a vernon imagine where svt doesnt believe theyre dating reader because hes so nonchalant but svt finds them either in a sweet or sexual position or something? its up to you! thank you <3

a/n: I apologize to the person who wrote the request. your request was deleted because the tags did not work in a way that I did not understand and I have to repost it...I hope it works this time.

I added a little texting at the end to make it a little more fun, enjoy reading!

"From the world to Vernon." Vernon looked up at Seungkwan's call "Oh sorry, were you saying something?" Kwan rolled his eyes, turned to the front and started muttering to himself "Oh really...What's wrong with this kid, his mind has been elsewhere lately." Jeonghan who entered the room answered him "Don't mess with him, he's probably texting with his girlfriend." It was obvious that the sentence he said was in a mocking tone and a few members laughed at this but Vernon didn't care and continued texting you. He didn't feel the need to prove to anyone that he was dating you because he didn't want to deal with it, and deep down he knew that they were all wrong and he was going to continue this as long as he could.

The rest of the day was spent both texting you and chatting with the others. When it was evening the next day, you were going to his house to surprise him because you missed him. In the meantime, a few members were gathered at his house watching a movie, unaware of everything. Dino, who was bothered by the notifications on Vernon's phone, whined "Yah! Either turn that sound down or answer." Vernon picked up his phone and smiled when he saw that the message was from you.

'I'm outside the door.'

'I missed you...can I see you for a few seconds?'

He cleared his throat and stood up, drawing attention to himself for a moment. "Go on without me, I have something to do, I'll be back." When he realized that they were continuing with the movie without questioning it, he went to the door. You ran to him as soon as you saw him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His arms that had been waiting for you found your waist and pulled you closer, burying his head in your neck and breathing in your scent. "I missed you." He mumbled, you chuckled and when you pulled away, he kissed you on the lips. "Did I come at the wrong time?" You knew the others were home so you didn't want to disturb them, but your longing for him got the better of you.

Vernon shook his head, one hand moving to your cheek, feeling him stroke it with his thumb. “It’s okay, after all, they wouldn’t believe me even if I said my girlfriend was here.” You laughed at that, he would send you a few voice recordings when they talked about Vernon lying, and it was definitely worth listening to. “So..When are we going to prove this to them?” you asked, although you didn’t mind it, you were curious about how far he would go. Vernon closed the gap between you again, his hand on your cheek moving to your neck, slowly pulling you closer to him as he murmured “I don’t really care if they believe me or not. All I care about is you right here with me, so just let me take care of you.”

His lips brushed gently against yours, and you couldn’t wait any longer because of your longing for him, and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, kissing his lips more passionately. He laughed at how hungry you were in between the kisses, and didn’t hesitate to respond. He sucked your lower lip gently and his hand started to roam your body to feel every part of you that he missed. You opened your mouth and brushed your tongue against his-

"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??" Hoshi's shout echoed in the dark street, you backed away in fear and turned to the owner of the voice. His shout must have caught the attention of the other members because some of them opened the door and moved towards you while others settled at the window. "I think it's time they believe us now." You looked at the eyes looking at you as Vernon spoke as if nothing had happened. Dino was the last one to leave the door and complained "The movie is half-finished, can't you be surprised by this later?" When the others ignored him, he muttered a curse and went back to watch it alone. Kwan pursed his lips and folded his arms "So you weren't lying the whole time?" Vernon frowned in disbelief "Why would I lie about this?" And you guys tried to understand what he was saying by stealing glances at each other as Kwan continued to rant.

Once the strange event was over, you were invited to watch the rest of the movie. You were curled up on the couch with Vernon, your head on his chest. His hand was on your shoulder, he kissed your head, and still unused to this situation, the others exchanged strange glances. At least he wouldn’t be made fun of anymore, even if it was in a strange way.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen texts #vernon imagines #vernon fluff #svt imagines #svt fluff

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mistriavalley · 3 days ago

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Alex with an insecure chubby farmer (gn!farmer)

Note: Got this idea from @hermits-crab. I also had sm fun writing this! I struggle a lot with my own body image so writing these headcanons brought me some comfort :3

TW: negative body image, negative comments from the past, farmer is insecure, mentions of bullying from the past

Masterlist

Alex has never and will never give you any reason to feel insecure or self conscious about your body. He worships not only you, but the ground you walk on as well and he honestly would have never thought that you'd feel bad about your looks. You're perfect in his eyes. Godlike even

But while he rolls out the red carpet for you, you still can't help yourself. Alex is so athletic and fit and you feel like people are judging you for being on the bigger side. Of course no one has ever said anything regarding that in Pelican Town. On the contrary, when you confided in Haley she praised you and your figure

You still can't help, but to wonder what his friends in the city or from gridball practice might be saying when Alex shows them pictures of you though. Are they saying "you lucky bastard" or "as long as you're happy"? It's eating you up from the inside, but you don't wanna bother your partner with that

And when you guys go on a date or shopping in the city, do the people around you actually stare at you and whisper amongst themselves or are you just imagining it? Nevertheless, the thought alone that someone might be judging you makes you wrap your arms around yourself to hide

It takes an embarrassingly long time for Alex to notice anything and even then he only does, because it's painfully obvious in that moment. Like you're out on a beach date and you refuse to get out of your baggy t-shirt even though you're obviously suffering from the scorching heat. That's when it clicks inside his head and his heart breaks

He walks you back to your farm after the beach date and sits down with you to talk about it. He wants you to trust him with these things and for you to know that you can talk to him about anything. When he hears how worried you are about what others might think when they see "someone like him" with "someone like you" he grabs both your hands and squeezes them gently

After he asks why you'd worry about such a thing, you explain how you've gotten comments thrown at you in the past and how every single one stuck with you to this day. It makes him angry and he wishes he would have met you sooner so he could punch every single person who has made you feel bad

Alex knows what it's like though. His father has made him feel like shit his entire childhood, but you've helped him get rid of these negative thoughts and he wants to do the same for you. There is obviously no pressure, because he understands that you can't shake these chains off in one day, but he'll do everything to make you feel loved and appreciated

That evening and every single one afterwards, he leads you to bed where he showers every inch of your body with kisses and praises. Also due to him working out so much and his lifestyle in general, he knows a lot about the human body. So if you stumble upon a "fitness guru" online talking about how unhealthy it is to do this or look like that, Alex is jumping in immediately to correct the person before it gets to your head

"But my BMI-" "No. Don't. BMI is a faulty system in more ways than just one. I'm not in the green area either, because of the weight from my muscles."

Or when he notices that you refuse to get a second serving even though you're still hungry or when you decide not to order a desert when you clearly want one. "You have to eat if you're hungry, baby. You're doing hard physical work on your farm every single day and your body needs the energy."

"I've gained weight again..." "Baby, listen to me. I'm 100%- no 500% certain that those are just muscles. You're lifting, pushing and pulling stuff on your farm from morning to evening. It's fine. You are fine."

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv x reader #sdv headcanons #sdv alex x reader #sdv alex #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley alex x reader #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley alex

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aloneinthehellfire · 3 days ago

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Chapter Twenty-One: Friend Or Foe, Part II

Gates Of Hell

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: amnesia, needles, guns, death, guilt

[A/N: since the last chapter showed what steve was up to, i figured we should find out what was happening to mini hopper over here... *hint* it's not fun]

Friend Or Foe, Part II

“Which is why I’m sorry.”

You push him, the faceless boy, into a void. There are so many noises echoing across concrete walls, a splintering boulder bashing against the door, your only exit.

At first, you just stand there, staring as the open wall closes itself, a cry of your name thrown from the other side. And then you hear snarls, growls, monsters. You run.

But there is nowhere to run.

You’re caged in a corner, creatures drawn from the shadows, covering your face as you prepare for the end.

“WAKE UP”

You wake up with a gasp, twisting the soft cushion below you and immediately open your mouth to call for- Your breath stops in your throat. Who were you calling for?

Leaning on your elbow, you take a look around the furnished room. You fell asleep on the couch again. How many times was this now? At least eight, you think. You aren’t entirely sure how many days you’ve been down here.

You send a quick glance to the new pile of clothes waiting on the armchair opposite, a soft frown pinching your eyebrows. You still didn’t know where Brenner got them from. He left a different assortment every so often. You tried not to think about if they came from a deserted store, or somewhere much more morbid.

As you walk past, you grab a grey sweatshirt and pull it over, staring down at the sleeves.

You’ve worn something like this before. A hoodie of some kind. You remember it brought you comfort. You remember… it wasn’t yours.

A frustrated sigh echoes the room as you drag your hands down your face. Once again, you couldn’t locate the boy your brain so itched to find.

Brenner was helping you with your memories. Every day, you would do some mind exercises, incredibly mundane but so so important to you. At the end of each session, you’d take your medication and try to continue what he was teaching. You didn’t want to be stuck in this bunker forever, but how were you meant to leave when you couldn’t even find the door?

Besides, Brenner treated you with kindness. There were worse places to be in an apocalypse.

You take a deep breath, nodding to yourself. Today would be the day. You were going to remember.

The door creaked a familiar welcome when you leave the room, staring down the hall. You wonder if you have enough time to go exploring again.

A consequential part of the bunker you couldn’t wrap your head around was the lack of time. There wasn’t a single clock on the walls you so often wander around. Brenner always seemed to know exactly when everything should happen, however. Your tests, sleeping schedules, appropriate times to eat. And yet, you’ve never managed to catch him with a watch on his wrist.

You find the central part of the building, staring up at it with awe, as you did every single time. Here, there were separate floors for separate doors, all circling you as you stand in the middle. This section of the bunker made it seem much bigger than you had assumed it to be. In fact, the label bunker didn’t seem to match the grand scale of it. Although, you weren’t sure what else to call it now. A base, perhaps.

None of the doors here opened, windows blacked out with paint. Whether they were like that before or after Brenner moved in, somebody didn’t want you seeing inside those rooms. You were curious about them, as anyone else would be, but they weren’t a priority for you; finding the missing pieces of your memories were.

You’ve had several flashes of your forgotten past flash into your mind at random points over the past few days, but none gave you enough information to decipher what you were seeing. Just yesterday you had been staring down the same hallway you were now stood facing, imagining the lights flickering wildly with a panicked thrum of your heart beating against your chest.

You wondered when you would give up trying. It was silly, really, to constantly be wondering that when Brenner always told you positive thinking would better the results. You couldn’t help it. You supposed part of you must have always been expecting the worst outcome. You didn’t even remember who you really were. Did you really want to remember?

...Were you worth remembering?

Do the people who you left behind want you to remember-

“Why do you do that? Act like you aren’t someone important, when you most definitely are.”

You blink, footsteps frozen. It had just been a whisper in your mind, a calming voice. You’d been hearing it a lot lately, mostly in your dreams, sometimes when you’re overthinking like this. He was still faceless, whoever it was ushering sweet words of emotional relief. If you could just see him, the boy in your dreams, you’re sure you’d finally find that missing piece.

“We should rethink this.”

You stop again, head turning to the hallway with a confused expression. That voice most certainly wasn’t in your head. And it didn’t belong to anyone you knew, either.

“Calm down, this is what we’ve wanted since we started this whole thing.”

Brenner’s voice drifted down the hall this time. Without another thought, your feet are guiding you to the murmurs of conversation, curiosity proving it had you rather than reversed.

The speech between two men was louder when you reach the door at the end of the hall, concealing yourself around the corner and peering into the room.

From the gap in the door, you could make out a face you hadn’t see before. He seemed to be similar in age to Brenner, sporting a long white lab coat. His right hand was fiddling with the pen between his fingers, a nervous trait if you ever saw one. He was a little shorter than the man stood in front of him, his face twisted into some sort of conflicted emotion. From the discussion you were overhearing, it was clear he was in the opposition.

“Can it not wait longer?” He persisted, taking a step forward. “We can find another way. I just need time-”

“We’re out of time.” Brenner interrupts, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be alright, my friend. Think of all the things we can…”

His voice trails off, retracting his hand and straightening his back. You can’t see his expression from where you’re stood, but the man he was with seemed confused by it.

“Y/n.” Brenner suddenly turns around with a smile. Your stomach drops in shame. You obviously weren’t as inconspicuous as you hoped. “Please, come in.”

You take a few tentative steps into the room, observing the machines with various enticing buttons. There was a giant window at the back, replacing the wall. Except, you couldn’t see out of it. A giant shutter was rolled down, stopped just before completely covering the space and leaving a slither of light at the bottom. You frown at the sight. A giant window. In a control room…

“Okay.” A girl breathes out, slotting the key into a metal door. “We lock the door anytime we leave, just in case. We take shifts so some of us end up sleeping between. Don’t wanna be blind-sided.”

“It’s a good idea.” You say and she smiles.

“This way.” She announces as she swings open the door.

It was like stepping into a sci-fi movie. Lab equipment everywhere, some now lifeless machines, a large glass window overlooking rows of metal staircases, cages.

And a giant gate to hell staring back at you.

“This is Dr. Owens.” Brenner interjects the swirling memories, stepping forward. You peel your eyes away from the shutters and finally acknowledge the men standing in front of you. “I have brought him here to help with your memories. He’s very skilled in this area.”

Owens was happily nodding, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. You think you’re pretty good at reading people, consequence of the years you would sit and observe on the outside of many conversations. This man looked… sad, in some way.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope my sudden appearance isn’t alarming in any way.” He offers a hand and you shake it, feeling the slight tremor in his grip. Something felt wrong.

“Well, shall we begin today’s session?” Brenner claps his hands and Owens retrieves his, nodding and walking out of the room.

You watched as he turned right towards the centre of the base rather than left to the room you’ve been conducting these sessions for weeks.

Brenner notices your confusion and places a hand on your shoulder. “We’re moving to a different room this time. Nothing to be worried about, I assure you. We just need some better equipment for this.”

He barely gives you time to think, the hand on your back guiding you out the door before you can even remember the window at the back of the room, holding a secret the universe didn’t want you to find.

“Before we begin today’s session, I’ve been meaning to take blood samples from you.” Brenner announces as you sit in an uncomfortable chair, the metal entirely different from the plush sofa you usually rest on.

“Blood samples?” You question, and Brenner smiles that same smile he’s shown you since your coma. When you think a little harder about his kindness now, did his show of comfort feel… forced?

“Are you sure she’s ready for that now?” Owens surprises you with his interjection, stepping into view beside you. “Maybe you should give her a little more time with the medication, I’d hate to-”

“Why don’t we ask her how she feels about it?” Brenner suggests, leaning forward to meet your eyes. “We don’t have to do this today. It’s simply to help us monitor if there’s perhaps something a little more medical than amnesia happening.”

More medical than amnesia? You think to yourself, glancing over at the tray of needles. This contrasted the last sessions dramatically. Every nerve in you screamed ‘no’, to refuse their help. But that crippling fear seemed to outweigh it; what if you never remembered?

Maybe this was one of those risks you have to take for the better.

“It’s okay.” You nod, turning to the man beside you. “I’m willing to do whatever.”

You assure the new doctor you’re alright, but his eyes were racked with an emotion you’ve witnessed and felt numerous times. Guilt.

It sends a shock of a memory: holding someone’s hand, tears running down your face, a hospital bed you didn’t occupy. Your sister. Sara. How your heart ached with her absence. How guilty you felt when you assumed your father would replace her. The girl was so sweet, she didn’t deserve your hostility. The girl. Who was she?

Who was she?

A number.

10?

“We must start.” Brenner interrupts, and the memory is fading.

“Wait!” You stand from your seat and Owens pauses with the needle in his hand, waiting. Brenner wasn’t so patient.

“Did you change your mind?” He questions, tilting his head. He had barely moved from his seat, even in recognition to your outburst.

“No, no, I-” You glance between them, scrunching your face. “I remembered something. My sister. I have a sister.”

Brenner seems to be personally interested this time, not a usual trait he displayed. He shifts to sit a little straighter, attempting to fashion it out by placing down his clipboard and nodding.

“What about her do you remember? Anything important?”

“I…” And your voice trails away with the image of a young girl, disappearing. Your next words came out a little defeated, shoulders slumping. “I don’t know.”

“Hm.” Brenner leans back, crossing his legs. “Let’s continue, then.”

You practically deflate back into the chair, staring down at the ground with an unwavering sense of helplessness.

“No.”

Both of your heads whip to where Owens was placing the needle back on the table and shaking his head.

“She’s not ready. We’ll do it tomorrow, let her prepare herself.” He aims his declaration to the man sat in front of you, eyes holding more warning than you had expected.

“But it’s just a blood test.” You say, leaning forward. Neither of them reply. “Right?”

“Perhaps Dr Owens is right.” Brenner eventually says, standing from his chair and peeling his eyes from his colleague. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a familiar phial, the rattling noise echoing in the uncomfortable silence. “We’ll continue this later. Just take your medication for now. Dr Owens and I will confer on what’s next.”

You realise your voice wasn’t to be heard here and allow him to shake out two pills, clutching them in your hand. You held them tightly even as you left the room, weaving back through the hallways to the comforting hue of a furnished room.

Your feet took you to the water bottle on the desk by the door, instinctively raising the pills to your mouth, just like you did after every session. But this time, something makes you pause.

My sister.

You try to focus on the image of your sister, almost forcing yourself to place her features piece by piece. She was the same age Sara would have been. Oh god… Sara. How could you have let yourself forget about her? How did you let yourself forget about anything?

Hopper will be so disappointed when you find him. He taught you better. Whatever caused this amnesia was probably the result of your own stupidity. If he was in your position, he would have left this place already, regardless of memory or not. You knew he would.

So why were you still here?

Maybe you were just afraid there was no one waiting for you on the surface, dead or alive.

The little white pills were long forgotten, discarded on the desk as you trudge your way over to the couch, sinking into it like your forlorn attitude. Your eyes close with the last slip of a tear. Of all the things to forget, why couldn’t it be how awful you felt?

You didn’t realise you had drifted to sleep until the sound of the door shutting echoed through the room. You turn your head to find Owens is stood there, running a hand down his face and clutching a notebook.

“Hello?” You prompt, sitting up.

He turns to you in surprise, your unexpected presence sending a mix of emotions onto his face.

“My apologies.” He says, walking back over to the door. “I didn’t realise you were sleeping.”

“No, it’s okay.” You say, smiling. “I’m not meant to be sleeping in here anyway.”

Rather than respond, he stands awkwardly in front of the door, eyes shifting between his notebook and feet as he decides between staying and leaving. Even though you didn’t know this man, you could tell something was weighing on him, as it was you also.

“Can I ask you a question?”

His eyes dart up in surprise but he nods, clearing his throat “Of course.”

“Why are you here?”

The question lingers, his hardened expression softening into contemplation. It was almost as if he wasn’t certain of his presence here either.

“May I sit?” He asks after a little while and you smile timidly, shuffling further down the couch to make room. When he finally sinks into the cushions, he adapts a more comfortable posture, tilting his head in your direction. “I’m here because Dr Brenner asked me to be.”

“I assume you’re friends?” You ask, fiddling with the sleeves of your hoodie. A nervous habit.

“We’ve known eachother a long time.” He responds, eyes never fully meeting yours. It seemed he was dodging the truthful answer, whatever that may be. “We worked in a lab together a while ago, trying to make a difference. But before we could really do anything, I… I left.”

“Why?”

“My wife.” Owens smiles this time, a fond memory playfully tugging at his lips. He twists the silver ring on his left hand, “She was the most supportive person I knew. She was the reason I really started all of this. High school sweethearts, if you can believe it. We were going to change the world. But she got sick. Cancer. She fought for such a long time… after that, I didn’t have the energy to continue my work.”

“I get it.” You say after some contemplation. He frowns, eyeing you with curiosity. “My sister…”

His eyebrows raise, a stillness to his exterior. You pretended not to notice, pulling back at the sleeves of your hoodie.

“Grief is a very powerful thing.” He says, sighing. “Especially when you believe you have the power to save them. I just… I never had the resources.”

You nod along to his words, an unexpected similarity between you and this man you’ve never met. Just remembering Sara’s face was all your heart needed to start aching. No one really understood that before. Other than Hopper. You never gave him a chance to connect with you over her death. You suppose he didn’t, either.

After a moment, a groan leaves Owens’ mouth and he runs his hands down his face, looking up at the ceiling.

“I wanted to help people.” He admits quietly. “God, it was all I ever wanted. I was ready to find new ways to better the lives of everyone around us, to find cures, to- to discover endless possibilities of the human mind…”

“Did you?”

“In a way.” He sighs, looking at you. “Just not the way I wanted.”

You watch his smile fade into sadness, his eyes drifting to the ground.

“Are you okay?” You ask, shifting to face him on the couch.

“I am.” He states, closing his eyes. “But you aren’t.”

You frown, tilting your head. “What?”

“Brenner isn’t who you think he is.” Owens says solemnly, scared eyes burning fear into yours. “He isn’t trying to help you.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

“You didn’t take the pills, did you?” He glances over at the little white capsules collecting metaphorical dust on the desk. “And now you’re already starting to remember your life.”

Your eyes widen at his implication, turning your head in horror at the ‘medication’ meant to be fixing you.

“Antipsychotics.” Owens answers before you can even ask, tightening his lips. “They’re designed to lessen the effects of extreme psychosis but only in smaller doses. The pills Brenner has administered to you are… they are more than anyone should take, especially those with amnesia. They aren’t curing you, Y/n. They’re making your memory worse.”

“Why would he do that?” You shake your head, unsure who to trust. But this man in front of you had more emotions than Brenner has displayed to you in the past two weeks.

Trust no-one, your dad would say, only trust yourself.

But how could you do that when you quite literally couldn’t remember who you are?

Owens tries to answer when he suddenly looks up at the door, panicked.

“Hide.” He says, gently tugging your arm and ushering you off the sofa and towards the closet.

“Here?” You question, but you make no effort to stop him guiding you over to it.

“Behind here is a vent system. I cut out a panel of the closet so you should be able to access it. It’ll lead you to the other side of the lab- bunker. You need to get through it quickly and pretend like none of this happened. It’s not an escape, but it’ll make it look like you were never in this room, you hear me?”

“What? Why?” You stumble into the wooden structure, turning to catch his arm before he could close the door. There were so many questions you needed to ask, but there would never be enough time to have them answered. “What’s going to happen?”

“Look, kid.” He says almost sadly, a small smile on his lips. “He isn’t who you think he is. I need you to act like everything is okay. Don’t take the pills, radio your friends- I’ve heard them on one of the frequencies before. But, most importantly, don’t let him catch you.”

“Don’t let him catch me.” You repeat, but it wasn’t a question. Don’t let him catch me. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Protect yourself, protect your friends. You’ll need eachother if you ever want to stop it.”

“Stop what?”

A rushed echo of footsteps can be heard from the other side of the door, pulling away Owens’ attention. Your heart sank. It was too late.

“Room 237. He needs you.” He whispers, grabbing the closet door before you can object. “Now, go. Don’t look back.”

Owens carefully shuts it and plunges you into darkness, only a slither of light peeking between the cupboard doors. You turn around to see exactly what he had described, crouching to carefully remove the cover. It barely made a sound and you sigh in relief just as a louder noise filled the room.

Brenner swung the door open and closed in one swift motion, stepping onto the carpet where he found Owens sat at the couch, skimming through a notebook.

You place a hand inside the vent, testing its structure. Rock solid.

“Did you tell her?” Brenner questions and despite every instruction you were given, you paused.

“Tell her what?” Owens responds with a casual tone. But even you could hear the slight incline in his voice behind the wooden doors, a tell-tale sign he was hiding something.

“Where is she?”

“She hasn’t been here. I’ve been sat here for a while waiting.” He shrugs. “She’s probably wandering about again.”

“Hm.”

Silence. You wince. You couldn’t make an escape if you didn’t have the tone of their voices to distract it.

“I heard the transmissions.” Brenner states lowly. “I know what you’ve done, Sam.”

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“Don’t lie to me!” He suddenly roars, making you flinch. You haven’t ever seen him like this. You weren’t even aware he was capable of it.

“Fine!” Owens yells back, standing from the couch and throwing his notebook onto the cushions. “Fine. I sent out a call for help. She doesn’t deserve to be locked up in here, Martin. None of us do. You’re going too far.”

“Too far? This could be our only saviour.”

“No. It’ll be your saviour.” Owens raises his chin.“You’re the only one that needs this. Let the girl go. I won’t ever speak of this again. I’ll be out of your hair.”

Brenner sighs. He stares at his friend for a moment, something dark lurking behind his eyes.

“You’ve been a good friend to me all these years.” He smiles. It was unsettling this time. Almost like it didn’t belong to him. “I do hope you understand.”

Owens frowns, lips parting to inquire his cryptic words. The question never hit the air.

Brenner pulls out a gun from behind his back and shoots Owens directly in the chest.

Your hands fly to your mouth in a quick motion, suppressing an urge to scream out. You watch Brenner through that tiny little gap, tears pooling in your eyes as the man looks down at his former friend with nothing but disgust.

“We could have changed the world, Sam.” He says as his final farewell.

A twitch of Owens’ hand on the carpet catches your attention. You can just hear the choked gasp of breath leave his mouth in response.

It doesn’t return.

Brenner swiftly pockets his gun again and fishes out a key in his shirt. Without a second glance, he leaves the room, the click of a lock echoing back through.

All you could hear was your thundering heart beat against your eardrums, arms tight around your legs. Brenner just killed him. He killed him. And if he knew what you had just witnessed, he would surely kill you too.

You take another look at Owens’ body, shuddering at the thought of dying the same fate. You shouldn’t leave him like that. What if he was still alive?

Don’t look back, he had said with the last remaining urgency in his soul. He told you to leave. So that’s what you had to do, even if every cell in your body was screeching for you to sit here in a puddle of your tears and wait until someone came to save you. You knew even if you gave in to your fear, no one would come.

So, instead, plant your shaking hands on the cool metal of the vent and climb your way through, choking back the sobs scratching at your throat.

Chapter Twenty-Two: coming soon...

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@iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby . @totally-bogus-timelady . @pansexualhoor .

@kitdjarin1 . @chiliwhore . @carolineesnell .

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfiction #gates of hell #apocalypse au #steve x reader #steve harrington fic

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thewritetofreespeech · 16 hours ago

Note

Can I please request Astarion with a flirty yet oblivious plus size Tav? In the way that they do flirt because it's fun and light like their companions/friends with benefits thing, but they think that their feelings are unrequited (because of some slight insecurity about their size) until Astarion is like I actually like you and Tav is like '???' (Idk if that makes sense lol) Thank you!

-------------------------------🩸-------------------------------

“So, Astarion, what is your actual type?”

“My ‘type’,” Astarion repeated at Shadowheart’s question as they traveled, “is such a broad prevue. I can’t think to narrow it down to just a single collection of words.”

“That’s a unique way to say you’re a trollop.”

Tav snickered at Shadowhearts retort, getting a stern glare from Astarion. “What? It was funny?”

“Pft. And here I was going to say you, my dear, but if you’re going to be so incredibly cruel.”

“Aw shucks. Always a bridesmaid I suppose.”

During their journey together, Tav had grown very fond of Astarion. He was a little shit, but deep down he was very funny and undeniably charming (although not for the ways he tried to be). The two of you had picked up a friendly banter over your time together, sometimes even flirty, but only that. And Tav was fine with that. Well aware that a handsome rake like Astarion could have his pick of the litter, and they were just happy to be considered a friend.

Later that night, while everyone was finishing their day and slinking off to bed, Astarion came over to Tav by the fire to sit with them. “You know I really meant it earlier by the way.”

“Meant what?” Tav asked. Lost, by this point, on what he was talking about.

“That you’re my….‘type’.” He seemed loathed to use the word. Even scrunched his nose. Tav just laughed.

“Yeah. Right. I’m sure.”

“No, really, I mean it.” He insisted.

“Come on Astarion, the only way you’d be interested in me is because I’m a a keg instead of a flagon.” Tav gestured to themselves and their full frame. “I have ample blood to spare.”

Astarion frowned. “Yes, your blood is certainly a bonus, but that isn’t why I care for you.” He huffed and crossed his arms dramatically. “Honestly, why does everyone think I’m not being serious when I am?” Astarion asked with a bit of flabbergast. “Is it something about my expression?”

Tav looked more than a bit flabbergasted at his remark. They didn’t really think they liked them….that way. Friends sure. Allies, of course. But romantically? “You…really have feelings for me?”

“Ugh! What is it with you new generation and wanting to put a name to everything?” Astarion bemoaned. “Feelings. Type. Can’t we just enjoy this for whatever…this is? All I know is that out of all the people in this whole wicked world I would want to be stuck with, it’s you.”

“Gee, that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Tav teased.

Astarion frowned again, but then leaned in close to Tav so all they could see was his piercing red eyes. “I could wax poems for you, if you’d prefer. How your eyes are the stars. How your curves are roads I would never get tired of roaming. How your ample bosom feels like a place to call home. All true, but you’re so much more to me than that.” He moved back to sit in his original spot. Wrapping his arms around his knees at his chest as he looked into the fire. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted in…well ever. You mean more to me than just your body. Though, again, that is certainly a bonus. I had hoped….you feel the same about me.”

Tav blushed, but then quickly gathered their voice and told him, “yes! Of course.”

Astarion seemed relieved. Then leaned over to give Tav a simple, sweet peck on the cheek. “Good. Now, get some sleep. We’ll probably have a completely eventful day tomorrow as well. You’ll need your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course. I’ll keep watch until the morning.”

Tav smiled, blushed again, and then went to their bed roll. Tentative in accepting Astarion’s confession & feelings, but hopeful it was all true. Perhaps, for once, they could really be the bride instead of the bridesmaid.

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cyb-by-lang · 9 hours ago

Text

Cascade (part 3)

So, fun fact: Without Kei being in in 1-C, she and Shinso are not friends yet in this continuity. It's the small tragedies.

Also, Manual's about to have a very chaotic internship experience.

“Dropping out of the Sports Festival narrowed your options significantly,” Aizawa said. Bundled up in that obnoxious yellow sleeping bag, the clear determination to be cozy and damn the consequences was almost impressive. It just clashed with his stone-cold voice and clear disappointment in Kei’s entire existence.

“That was the point.” Kei scoffed as she flung herself into the opposite chair. And despite her gripes, Kei could admit that Principal Nezu chose decent furniture. “I could fake a week-long illness.”

Despite Kei bowing out of the Sports Festival after the cavalry battle, allowing some 1-B student she didn’t know to take her slot, some pro somewhere had seen her “potential.” Mostly the ones who could do basic math and realize her water-controlling power worked basically on the same scale as Todoroki’s Half-Hot, Half-Cold. She had a handful of offers from people like Selkie, which would take her well out of Musutafu and could drill her in proper heroic conduct.

And to be blunt, Kei wished they didn’t give a shit. Their letters were burning a hole in her desk back home.

There was a sort of pity system where students who didn’t get any offers were still assigned to pros for the internship experience, but Kei wasn’t a normal student. While Midoriya, who looked like he was going to cry when he saw a whopping zero offers, got something through his connection with All Might, Kei wasn’t holding her breath for anything useful to her cause. Any pro worth their salt needed to keep tabs on their interns. If a teenage hero-wannabe escaped containment and threw a truck across a street without authorization or something, there would be hell to pay. A lot of the hero course students had such destructive Quirks that property damage was on the lower end of potential bad outcomes.

Honestly, someone like Nezu taking her on as an intern would be the best possible scenario. He’d work out that they were all better off if he let her off the leash for this week. Sort of like a big guardian sheepdog, only her territory comprised at least one city. She could clear her backlog of patrol duties with her teammates instead of learning hero industry paperwork procedures.

Kei’s gaze drifted to Aizawa, who was pointedly still here despite Kei already learning he’d planned on taking the week to work with a kid outside of 1-A. Apparently, he’d met with Shinsō after the Sports Festival and decided the kid was now his protégé. It was much faster to just snap up the General Education’s sole standout than bother with writing letters through an agency. For Kei’s part, she looked at the Quirks written out for Shinsō and that Monoma boy in 1-B and added them to her personal “nope” list.

Being found out would ruin everything.

Being found out by children just added embarrassment to the mix in untold quantities. No, she’d rather not deal with that. Adults were more married to their preconceptions and kept letting her get away with things. It was safer to stick to that part of the plan.

Kei took a long sip of her tea and tried not to think too hard about it. The mere fact of her presence in this office vetoed such a simple solution.

“Well, we don’t need to go quite so far to ensure your work continues,” Nezu said, placing his paws together on the top of his desk.

Honestly, if not for the fact that he insisted on wearing suits, he could have been any rodent summon clan’s adjutant. Probably the brains of any operation he wanted, even if the clans’ schemes probably struck him as thinking too small. Certainly he’d have the toad clan wrapped around his toe beans inside of the day.

Kei blinked away the stray thought.

“It would raise suspicion if you weren’t involved in the internship experience this week, Gekkō-san,” Nezu went on, pausing to take a ship of his own tea. His fur fluffed in enjoyment. “But, in the interest of furthering your goals and ours, there is a task that might suit your skills while also fitting that requirement. I hope you’re interested.”

“Well, I’ll listen,” Kei said.

“Good enough! Now, you’ve heard about the Hero Killer operating in multiple Japanese cities by now, yes?” When Kei nodded, Nezu continued, “While your friends’ efforts were quite informative in narrowing down the man’s Quirk and general methodology, Endeavor’s agency has made their operations in the area rather tenuous. They cannot safely patrol the city.”

Which was a nice way of saying that while Obito and Kakashi could get into pitched fights with people like Burnin or even Endeavor himself, it was a waste of time and effort on everyone’s parts. Apparently, the general ANBU aesthetic trended closely enough to Stain’s known appearance that it nearly got her teammates set on fire three separate times. No one was hurt, but not for lack of trying. There was always a lot of griping afterward.

Kei nodded along. “So, you want me to…?”

“The hero Manual has already put in an offer for your internship experience,” Nezu said, “which isn’t even something I had to ask of him! It appears that aside from Iida-kun, no other hero students have accepted his overtures. Try to keep everyone from unfortunate accidents, Gekkō-san. I know I can trust you to act with prudence and diligence.”

That was a nice way of saying that Kei wasn’t allowed to go for the double-tap on Stain. Or let anybody die. Even if it looked like Endeavor’s bullshit attitude might be curtailed at long last if she just stood back and watched him get a little bit stabbed.

“Manual is a respected mentor for beginner heroes,” Kei murmured, mostly to herself. Setting her teacup down on the desk, drained, she said, “Are you hoping this might be a character-building experience for me, Nezu-dono?”

Those beady black eyes gleamed. “Perhaps.”

“I want it noted that I don’t agree with this plan,” Aizawa said in his usual monotone. His eyes were open for the first time in a while, about as red and itchy-looking as usual. “Using Gekkō as villain bait doesn’t stop being unethical simply because she’s being raised for the role.”

“I’m not going to just sit here and do nothing.”

There was a slight pause. “I know. It doesn’t make it less of a tragedy.”

Kei sighed. “Then can we just acknowledge it and move on? I’d rather be useful.”

Aizawa’s expression was difficult to read—sort of like Kei’s in the mirror—but he didn’t offer more negativity just yet.

The main reason he wasn’t protesting more vociferously probably came down to Kei’s demonstrated ability to go directly up to a Nōmu billed as “the perfect anti-All Might weapon” and make its head implode with water pressure and no small amount of spite. Sort of like a deep-sea diver if their pressure suit failed. If Shigaraki didn’t want his minion dying so pathetically, he shouldn’t have said what its Quirks were. Shock absorption combined with super regeneration were great in theory, but they both had limits. And it didn’t take a genius to look at that exposed brain case and draw some conclusions.

The whole thing was messy.

Suffice to say, Kei found the occasional wary looks from her classmates wholly justified and tried not to let it bother her nowadays.

“If I accept, do you plan to have Manual read in on everything?” Kei asked. Typically, mission parameters were set by the Hokage in advance, but Nezu did have a lot of leeway outside of contract specifications because the rat’s funds were functionally limitless.

“No, that is not a requirement to secure the next steps,” Nezu said. He sort of looked like he smiled, but the teeth were wrong. For a rodent. “Just try to keep your explosive intervention style to a minimum and there won’t be anything too serious to explain.”

So, that’s a jinx.

I assumed so.

Kei sighed. “Mission accepted, Nezu-dono. I’ll try not to step on any toes.”

#cascade #snippets #shell game #keisuke gekko #catch your breath fanfic #naruto #my hero academia

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allmannerofmalady · 10 hours ago

Text

In continuation of my clownery, I started a new DATV playthrough because my beloved Inquisitor looked so jarring I had to remake her and replay like 20 hours of the game. But hey, I made peace with the fact that I am playing DATV to wrap up Inquisition and get an ending scene at this point, I'm not currently foreseeing a second playthrough, so I gotta do it right, y'know?

Spoilers, and me complaining at extreme length, yet again, about my own personal expectations vs reality into the void. Please ignore if DATV negativity is something you prefer to stay away from, protect your peace & what you enjoy.

So I replay HOURS. I'm having fun killing everything as fast as I can - I don't know what it is about playing as a rogue in this game that has tickled my ADHD brain so much, but I'm surprisingly really good at the arrow bonanza and relentless enemy aggro?! This turn based bitch? I digress.

I see my bb Inquisitor Lavellan - she still doesn't look like herself, but I can live with it. She got some ill-advised fillers in Tevinter, she's been through a lot, let her LIVE.

This time around my strategy is pure lore hunting. I'm getting every codex, I'm SQUEEZING this playthrough for whatever lore/easter eggs I can get because idk if I'm going to play again. I got all of Solas' murals early on, got Mythal's essence before Weisshaupt even, I think. BUT WAIT! I have one more treat! The locked room in the Lighthouse! Solas' study! There must be something juicy for all the effort, right? RIGHT? :'D

I know it's been beaten to death, but PERSONALLY, the game still feels incredibly flat to me, jarringly so. If I'm in the Dreadwolf's home, I want to snoop. I want Rook to look through his library, his books, his garbage bin. I even remember the devs saying they wanted being in the Lighthouse to feel an old friends house, or something? I could be wrong, my brain is fried. It's not just a Solas thing - I'm playing this game because I'm desperate for info about the characters I love, but as Rook, we are IN Solas' HQ and I want to rip open the floorboards. I'm trying to RP as much as I can RP in this G.

Anyway, I was so thirsty for something more, something deeper than just these lovely environments I cant do much with, and notes on how Solas hoards raisins - so I collected the wisps and did all the things to unlock the second door in the Lighthouse, forever booboo the fool, thinking I would get an easter egg or something. Trying to stay positive.

No. NO. I got some gear, another empty room Rook has no comments on, and fine, some of Solas' observations on the anchor.

Back to backflipping and shooting arrows in the air, and wanting to grab Emmrich by the beautiful lapels to shake him and ask about the Pentaghast family. Where's my WIFE --

On to the Weisshaupt mission, which was actually ridiculously fun to play - until I was told Weisshaupt is gone haha wow great love that at least the Inquisitor & gang are keeping Southern Thedas safe *subtle foreshadowing* 😃🤞 weeee

I was SO MAD at myself for expecting more like the clown that I am, it was something dumb but just annoyed me all over again and got me all… opinionated 🫠

So, I'm mad again. I cannot begin to articulate my feelings about the incredible amount of storylines and lore we've lost with the decisions made in DATV's writing - they've already been written so eloquently by much greater minds than myself. SO I'm just laughing my way through the pain 🤡

People pleaser that I am, I see other creators I've followed and loved for ages defend the game's choices, tell others they lack media literacy, that your criticisms mean you have rose tinted glasses about the previous games - whatever, your opinion can be valid without tearing others down. So, I genuinely thought something was wrong with me for being so hung up on details. But I can't even engage in fan theories anymore because I'm so jaded at this point. When I see new deep dives into lore-based theories on the game, 99% of the time my mind goes "There is no deeper meaning. They just wanted to wrap it up." Why do you think this thing happened? What do you think that thing is hinting? Nothing. And this is coming from someone who played all the games, owns all the novels, art books, World of Thedas I and II, the bloody Inquisitor lamp from the BioWare store LOL, I was primed and ready to engage in these conversations, but I can't. I have nothing to say that won't end in a cynical answer, and maybe that's because I'm also jaded by working in the game-adjacent VFX industry.

The factions are, yet again, fun but shallow, the logic confusing, and lack much of a backstory for Rook (I think Grey Wardens and Mourn Watchers seem to be the best developed from other reviews and playthroughs, I've only played extensively as a Shadow Dragon, to be fair). Why are you a mage in this one faction? Why are you a rogue in another when it doesn't make sense without a story to support it? It's all this beautiful candy floss that melts away the minute I stop and think about it. And then the cynic in me thinks - these are probably vestiges of the live service part of the game that EA was pushing for. I have to slap myself and stop looking for deeper meaning within corporate decisionsssss there is no swimming pool behind that closed door you needed 7 wisps for 😃

I desperately did not want this to be the case. I was hyped. I preordered the game and organized vacation around it, I'm too old and dealing with way too many crappy personal things to just be a hater for the sake of being a hater. Gaming and Dragon Age are my comfort spaces. But for the LIFE of me, I can't imagine playing DATV again once I finish, let alone more times than I can count like the previous games. Or imagine listening to 4 hours of Youtube videos of party banter to analyze, or even imagine how companions would react to certain things because they feel so stiff. Everything is beautiful, but sterile.

I do love Emmrich - I'm enjoying his storyline and romance, it's like the loveliest most whimsical Vincent Price Pixar romance, but still, something is always missing with the characters even as some do grow on me. I can't imagine anything close to just the party banter ALONE between Solas and Iron Bull. Cole. Fenris and Anders. And to be clear - the whole DA was GRITTY and DARK, DAO supremacy - NOT ME. I love all the games but they have always been whimsical and silly, cringey at times, and did not take themselves seriously. I remember doing the quest where Hawke is running around trying to keep Aveline's date with Donnic from going south, cracking up at how ridiculous it was, and just thinking - gods I LOVE this game.

Speaking of romance, while I'm enjoying how sweet the romance with Emmrich is, when I see others complaining about lack of spice... ahem. I still cannot get over the art style when it comes to characters. This is subjective, and a me problem - I still find it jarring. I don't like the proportions, the bloom, how smooth everyone looks. They still mostly look like cartoons to me, with no body hair and the big heads, and I find everyone's hands so distracting because they look like plasticine. I'm ok with no spice between these characters with their current designs lol let me leave it at that. Ok, except for Felassan and Solas, chef's kiss, no notes.

Solas and story elements directly around him still mostly hold the familiar weight, for the most part. I think credit goes to his amazing VA and the strength of what was likely written for his arc from the very start, before the rewrites and dev hell the game went through. I still have opinions, obviously, but even as a ride or die Solavellan I don't like having the Solavellan angle hijack conversations, so I'm not going to go there. If I'm going to criticize stuff I'll do it as a gamer/DA fan first, egg lover and apologist second.

As I reach the end of Act 2, the game continues to makes me feel like I'm stripped of all agency after a lifetime of playing choice-based games. I talk to companions when it allows me to, then they are relegated to set dressing. My conversation choices all feel the same, or don't match what I'm choosing sometimes. The Lighthouse does not feel like the vibrant hub it was sold as. I am on quests I mostly cannot accept or reject. I cannot interact with my surroundings unless it is gameified (light a candle, move a crystal). The companions abilities are all just - platforming? I know I sound hyperbolic, but it's all I can see currently.

I played Persona 5 from end to end, twice. I played FFXVI. I loved both, had no issues with their linear storytelling, and how the game led you to their end points. Those games are not DA, they did not have the expectations you would have from a BioWare title 10 years in the making. You were not lured in by tales of an incredible character creator, teased about what might be coming from previous games, told this was a sequel to an immersive fantasy RPG series in a beloved fantasy world where the defining studio mechanic was CHOICES MATTER, even when they changed a lot of other things from title to title. In P5/FFXVI you were Clive, you were Joker, you were playing out their story. They were not direct sequels to anything. I'm loathe to be seen as a mindless critic who just wants to shit on things, but a part of me does feel emotionally manipulated for $$$. I still resent how much hype was built for the game by maligning the previous ones (we're fixing Inquisition's mistakes!!).

I'm back to my mission of finishing the game I paid for, enjoy what I can, and get my Solavellan ending scene cause I'm down BAD for literally the only ship I have ever shipped🧍🏻‍♀️I appreciate that it was included. But also - wow does it exacerbate what wasn't included for everyone else's choices.

Something I hate is how everyone immediately jumped on the Baldur's Gate 3 comparisons - BG3 was a life changing game for me, but it's not perfect, and the comparisons are not fair. The one thing I will say is that when I first played BG3, despite its issues and the later criticisms of how Larian reacted to pressure from fans, I remember my earliest impression was - it feels good to be respected as a player. I didn't feel the game was talking down to me, and I got SO much for what I paid for (700 hours baybeee). Jaheira and Minsc were included as companions in homage to the previous games. Yes, they did Viconia dirty, nothing is perfect - but for example, Jaheira would tell you about her husband Khalid from the original games, which came out in 1998 and 2000. There was a lot of world building/easter eggs that not everyone was familiar with or even noticed, because not every player played BG1 and 2, or were familiar with DND 5e - but it was included. Drizzt Do’urden was mentioned ffs, they didn’t overthink about who read those books or not. I’m aware of my biases and I may very well be looking through rose tinted glasses, but I did not feel like the information was presented like I was dumb, or "ah they'll never understand this - SCRAP IT". It just feels like it’s there to honour the past and out of love for the world Larian were playing in.

I don't feel that respect for the player in DATV, I'm sorry. There is love there, but as hard as I try, it feels like it's there despite of the overall design of the game, not part of it. I keep remembering interviews before the game was released and things that were promised, and I don't see it. At all. No more meaningless fetch quests!! Most companion-focused game! The quests are largely boring or formulaic, but addictive and fun because they are so packed with mindless combat that my brain enjoys. Sometimes it feels like filler - we didn't know what to add here, FIGHT! You unlocked a poignantly named gate in the Crossroads? NO STORY MORE FIGHT! And I'm eating it up, let me not be a hypocrite, I have 80 hours in the game. But personally, it feels designed to pad out this beautiful, sometimes fun, but bitterly shallow game. I can't even go into companion specifics because I have nothing to say, no story I want to analyze. Some have grown on me, but there is no bite or nuance to the writing that compels me and I have no urge to know more. In the previous DA games I would take the long route wherever I went just to get more banter from my companions, and I was instantly interested in them, even if I disliked them. I've seen the comments, I tried, I don't think it's because "I haven't spent enough time" with the DATV companions.

The level design of long narrow corridors, which do remind me of DA2 and FFXVI, has become so predictable to me that I almost always know exactly where I'm going to find loot. So it becomes this admittedly satisfying run of grabbing and fighting to the end point, getting the dopamine hits of collecting pointless stuff, but not really taking in the environments and enjoying the adventure. The level design is not immersive. These do not feel like real cities or real people, and that was intentional. It feels like “levels”, not a World. No one reacts to a single thing you do. Even in the ultra minimalist style of Zelda BOTW, townspeople would react to things you did. Sometimes I walk up to yet another obvious fight arena where the enemies are just chilling, waiting for me while standing still - almost like they're on shift at a haunted house LOL. I can imagine the Venatori stubbing out a cigarette, "C'mon guys, she's here, showtime". The funny part is this has all been seen before in older games, and it never bothered me. My own expectations and overhype might be to blame, but it feels like a big step back when so many games are stepping forward. Me = clown

I keep going back to my first reaction when the disappointment hit me. It feels like being given Persona 5 Strikers or Hyrule Warriors, and told that it's the sequel to the actual RPG. It's fun, it wears the skin of the thing you like that makes you happy, but stops there.

Other things I shake my fist at

Cheap ass The 6th Sense ass Varric death. Yes, yes, Solas villain arc whatever - it was cheap. Way to honour a multi-game beloved character and the player, even if the time had come for him to die in the story.

No, I cannot find a single redeeming reaction from a companion that makes Varric dying make sense in hindsight, except that they are all made of cardboard. I saw comments saying on a second playthrough it's clear Harding is in mourning - sorry, I don't see it.

So. Dorian, the Inquisitor, Charter, Harding, your party, Maevaris, Isabella, list goes on - not a single one of them asks about Varric or mentions his death? Expresses condolences? Nothing? Cheap. Even if Solas was playing with your mind, doesn't it make the overall characters in the game seem even more wooden and unrealistic to the player? It was not the gotcha they seem to think it is.

When the novelty of the cameos and the emotion associated wore off, they were just flat and felt random. Cassandra should have been there, doing Seeker shit (my WIFE). Ok no cameo? Casual dialogue with Emmrich about having a Nevarran in the Inquisition (or as the Divine?!) Lucanis info dumping about Josephine as an Antivan, Zevran as a Crow, nvm, time for a coffee joke. Merrill, eluvian queen, how is she a nonentity? Habibi Fenris should have been in the Shadow Dragons, spitting on the ground after being approached by Solas to join his uprising (lol what uprising amirite). Ok I'm cooking hire me Bioware 🍳 but at least they can remain untainted by the Isabella Treatment (tm)

This leads into the yeeting of the Keep, world states, choices, and hypocrisy around claiming to want to level the playing field for new players. No, all I can see is - it was treated as a buffet that they picked from as it suited. This is the one disappointment I will never let go of. Facsimile's of beloved character cameos were tossed in, you could not really talk to them outside of what limited dialogue you were allowed. Certain world states are now canon apparently - Dorian being recruited in the Inquisition, Morrigan drinking from the Well etc. You want a reboot and you've committed to tossing the choices and burning down Thedas (literally)? Go down with GLORY! Have all the previous main characters/companions alive. Have them all mentioned, even in passing. A portrait on a wall. Say goodbye to them, get your reboot. Honour what you built your business on. But yeah, Emmrich and Harding get to have their picnic in Fereldan fml bye

The argument of: well, the games are old now, it shouldn't matter. Ah - not too old to capitalize on the IP and DA name? Not too old to use some cameos to lure old players? The argument of - it was too many choices to track. Ok cut them down, but don't go scorched earth? 3 choices, mostly irrelevant to those who don't care about Solas (could never be me), and then literally telling you everything else in the South and Weisshaupt is now razed to the ground. But also the illuminati did everything.

FINALLY - the Inquisition should have been in charge of the hunt for Solas, hill I will die on. Fine, have Rook, but Inquisitor should have been the other protagonist. The people... who knew Solas best and betrayed by him... who were in an organization to save the world... Why did we have that cunty dagger stabbed into the map of Tevinter cliffhanger to have the Inquisitor reduced to a pyjama wearing husk BIOWAAAAAAAARE

It's this stuff that builds up, and makes me think - does this game hate its fanbase and source material that much? I very obviously need to go touch some grass 🤠

I keep engaging with Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter - all to my detriment because it makes me feel like there's something wrong with me for not loving it, all over again. I also desperately have a fic in me I would love to write, an ode to the story in my head from years of loving the world of Thedas, a love letter to my Lavellan and others - but idk what to do with the post-DATV world atp. I just want to get through Act 2/3, get my Solavellan smooch, ignore the ~secret Illuminati ending, and be grateful I'm not a Mass Effect fan so I don't have to go through this again 🐣

#bioware critical #dragon age critical #i scream here to function out there #trust me i want to get over it #came to fix solas now he needs to fix me #veilguard critical

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sundew199 · 3 days ago

Text

Afternoons

a/n: I got carried away with this, hehe

tags: reiner braun x reader, oral m!receiving, throat fucking, dacryphilia if you squint, no p/n's used, kinda implied f!reader

All you'd been thinking about all day was him. Everything that had to do with him was on your mind. He didn't have the day off like you did, such a disappointment, so many degenerate ideas running through mind as you went about idle tasks around the house.

Maybe you were just unbearably horny that made you groan and take little breaks when your mind wandered too far, but then again you were with a man who looked nothing less than a greek god at times. What a delightful curse that was.

Finally you could hear the car pulling up into the drive, setting down the rag you were using to wipe down the counters, giving the impression you weren't doing anything. Reiner let out a long over exaggerated sigh from the front door, tossing some of his things down right there and taking his time coming to find you. The dreariness in his eyes lifted once he spotted you by the counter, shoulders slouching in a slump way as he continued to shuffle over to you.

"How was work?" Asking before he could even wrap his arms around you, teasingly pulling him in closer by his already loose tie.

"Tiring, long, irritating, the usual." Breaking into a smile and leaning in for a kiss, not letting it linger like how you wanted and even tried, so desperate for him.

"Figured you didn't do much today?" Now really pulling away, tie slipping through your fingers and a small frustration beginning inside you. It wasn't towards him, more at your impatience and the clawing need to have some part of him inside you. This is what you get allowing yourself to daydream while he was away at work.

"Not much besides cleaning a bit, just waiting for you to get home."

He scoffed a laugh, back turned to you as he shoved the bite he took of a muffin into his mouth. You could tell he was beginning to understand the underlying message in your words, a handy little thing about him when you didn't want to explicitly ask for something.

"Bet you were." Heels of his dress shoes clicking against the tile floor of the kitchen as he turned and took two long steps towards you, guise written in suppressed lust that he must've shoved down during the day as well. Boldly, you grabbed him by the tie again, pressing yourself to his chest and absorbing the heat coming off in waves from his body, assumption proving to be correct. Nimble fingers of yours danced up his dress shirt, fanning out on the side of his neck to thread into the back of his hair, inches away from his face.

"Mhm, all day long." Exchanging the air between you and him as you spoke, a chuckle of sorts climbing up his throat as he shuffled one foot forward, bringing your bodies closer somehow. Reiner looked like he was about to say something else until the press of your lips to his jaw silenced it, breath quietly hitching in his throat and relaxation mixed with desire running hot in his veins.

Small open mouth kisses ran along his scruff, palms brushing down his body, catching over the hard nipples poking through the cotton fabric, knees bending a bit when you reached the base of his neck, coming off and continuing to crouch down onto the floor. Reiner adjusted his footing until the backs of his legs were to the kitchen cabinets, hips pushed out into the air, presenting the growing tent in his slacks.

Fully down on your knees now, face to face with what had been on your mind all day, you pressed your cheek to his thigh and cupped his half hard erection, relishing in the surprised groan. Each breath was being sucked through his teeth with a hiss as your palm pressed and rubbed, blood rushing impossibly fast to his cock to your simple touch. You wanted to tease him a bit, having fun with the quieted reactions you were getting, so you breathily moaned before mouthing over his bulge, purposely moving your head side to side so the tip of your nose would brush across the head of his cock. Reiner's head had fallen back a little, one hand running through his hair, mussing it even further while he white knuckled the edge of the counter with his other hand.

"M'shit," Muttering out when your tongue flattened and swiped up along his shielded shaft, like you would if it weren't trapped in the confines of his slacks.

Unsure of who was more desperate for this, you popped the button to his slacks and pulled the zipper, spotting the faint wet spot in his briefs, flicking your tongue over that spot and not missing the thump of the back of his shoe hitting the cabinet.

"Been thinking about sucking your cock all day." Speaking with a whine, fingers only slipped behind the waistband of his briefs, eyeing the last button of his shirt blocking any part of his skin. On impulse, you quickly undid the first four buttons upwards and parting the open shirt enough to see the happy trial that started from his naval down, like a treasure map you got to retrace anytime you found yourself down on your knees.

"All day?" Confidence prominent in his tone, boarding on arrogant as he looked down at you on your knees. "Been thinking about your mouth all day too angel."

Reaching a hand down to hold the side of your face, pressing the pad of his thumb to your lips and watching them purse under the light pressure. You took it into your mouth before he could pull it away, giving it one long harsh suck, coming off with a pop and breaking the string of saliva connecting to your lips. Reiner groaned deeply in his chest, pushing his hips out a little more to entice you to free his cock, wrap your pretty little lips around it as he thrusted down your throat. Fuck he could never get enough of you.

Without warning, you yanked his briefs down and his leaking angry cock sprung free, close to hitting your cheek by an inch. The cool air hitting his fiery flesh prompted a hiss and a stifle of some noise, a noise that increased the pulsing desire between your legs, throbbing at this point.

"Put your pretty mouth to use for me."

Whispering sensually, sweetly with the way his lust heavy eyes looked down at you, golden honey irises momentarily dulled by the yearning for your mouth.

Humming salaciously at his request, you flicked the end of your tongue at the gathering pre leaking from his slit, rolling your eyes back at the salty taste, hearing his feet shuffle in place. Without wasting anymore time, your lips enclosed around the head, pressing your hands into his thighs as your tongue swirled slow steady circles around it. Reiner grunted, white knuckling the edge of the counter with both hands now, looking to the ceiling briefly before back down to your already hollowed cheeks around the tip of his fat cock. Both of you were aware of his size, gifted with girth that pleasantly stretched out any part that you took him in, and god did you love the stretch.

Slow soft hums accompanied you as you moved downwards from the tip of his cock, saliva already pooling at the corners of your mouth and aiding the needed lubrication to blow him properly. His breathing sounded hoarse in his throat, raspy and needy with each intake, with each slow ascend and descend of your mouth.

"Fuck, oh fuck." Finding his words, one hand breaking from their death grip on the edge of the counter to hold the back of your head, holding back from shoving you down further.

You blinked to flutter our lashes over your cheeks, sucking him down all the way suddenly and holding him in your throat. The abruptness of your action had your eyes watering and stinging, nose pressed directly onto the lowest part of his abdomen, hair from his happy trail tickling your skin. Reiner sounded like he was trying to keep his composure, prevent himself from coming too soon.

"Relax for me," His hand now moving to hold the side of your head, right above your ear and pushing himself from the counter with his hips, sending his cock deeper down your throat, setting his feet apart farther.

Doing as you were told, your jaw slackened and lips relaxing around his shaft, blinking rapidly up at him, seeing the cockiness of the blatant power dynamics between you run through him like fire. One thing about Reiner was he was going to fuck your throat, fuck it good like he were fucking your tight hole, using you as he saw fit. Of course it took him a while to truly be comfortable with this, worried he might hurt you, but you knew he wouldn't, not even on purpose and after the first time, he was addicted to the rush.

Sliding himself out until the tip of his dick rested in your mouth, he exhaled slowly, rubbing his thumb into your skin in a soothing manner, like a pre-comfort for the delightful abuse he was about to put your throat through. One side of his mouth lift in a smirk, starting to push back into your mouth with ease and then shoving the rest down, groaning at the tightness surrounding him, eyes fluttering at the sensation of the single motion. Breathing through your nose, maintaining eye contact with him and focusing to keep your jaw relaxed and open, you took the measured thrusts like you were made for it.

It didn't take too long for his hips to pick up the pace, keeping a steady hand at the side of your head, eagerly picking up the pace with his growing greediness, puffing out breath after breath in time with his hips. His heavy balls soon started to smack against your chin, the mixture of saliva and pre-cum dripping down to your chin enhancing the sound. Reiner groaned and grunted every time he hit the back of your throat, sharply inhaling from his nose and watching the tears well in your water line, just waiting for them to roll down your cheeks.

"Thinkin' about this all day yea? Mm how badly you wanted me to fuck your throat?" Asking as if you could give him a proper response, only able to barely nod to the questions, an honest answer as it was all you'd been thinking about. A laugh rumbled in his chest teetering out into a moan as he abruptly stopped his thrusts to hold himself all the way in your throat. Reiner's other hand gathered some of the saliva and pre mixture smeared onto your chin with his finger, cleaning it off himself and moaning again, like the dirty bastard he was. You moaned around his cock witnessing the sight, the ache between your legs a burning throb at the pure sex emanating from his body, like it were natural.

"Been thinkin' about it too, almost called to see if you wanted to stop by my office." Ending his sentence with a wink, an all too obvious sign of what he was implying, allowing your eyes to roll back into your head at the thought.

"But at least now," Beginning his pace again, thumbing over the small tear that escaped from your waterline down your cheek. "I can fuck you after, fuck you until the only thing you remember is my name baby."

Shit you were insanely turned on by that proposition, moaning with an ache to have him fuck you dumb and stupid after this, claw your nails down his back only for him to flip you over and force your back to arch to his liking and affectionately punish you with his cock pounding and stretching you open.

Fingertips pressed into the side of your head as he went faster than before, starting to chase the sweet release of his orgasm, have you swallow it all. The deep manly sounding groans and grunts were slowly turning into whines and whimpers, his back forming a slight arch as he writhed where he stood, pleasure overtaking at an alarming pace.

"Shit you feel so good...so fuckin' good baby, fuck." Whiny words rolling off of his tongue as he got closer and closer, feeling the pulse of his cock slide along your throat as he fucked himself into your mouth over and over. Reiner threw his head back violently, pushing his hips out, pressing his dick all the way down your throat and your nose to his skin.

Ropes of warm cum shot down your throat, no other choice but to swallow as his strength kept you where you were at. His grip to the side of your head eased, pulling out quickly and stroking just under the tip as he pumped his cum onto your awaiting tongue. A sort of groan like laugh came as it pooled and gathered on the muscle, seeing your swollen lips tremble as you tried to keep your mouth open until he was done.

As soon as he was done, you looked at him through hooded eyes, taking your tongue back into your mouth but keeping your lips parted just enough so he could watch you swallow. Gently, his thumb gathered the remnants on your top and bottom lips, slipping it into your mouth wordlessly.

The surrounding air was thick with sex, clinging to your bodies like heavy dew from a summer's rain. Reiner sighed with a weak smile, offering his hand to help you off of the floor, not bothering to adjust any of his clothing. Catching you off guard with a kiss, his tongue licked into your mouth, allowing himself a taste of his own cum, which brought your lust from a simmer to a boil in your gut, gripping onto the back of his sweaty hair.

"Gonna fuck the shit out of you." Mumbling into your lips, hearing the rustling of fabric and feeling two hands at the back of your thighs, hoisting you into the air to wrap around his waist.

"Sounds like a promise." Folding your arms around his neck as he carried you from the kitchen to the bedroom, matching his sultry smirk with one of your own.

"It is a promise." Sending one searing slap into your ass cheek, gripping the flesh and chuckling back into your lips with a sharp inhale.

#reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot reiner #snk reiner #reiner smut #reiner braun #aot smut #snk smut #aot fic #reiner x you #reiner x reader

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larabar · 1 year ago

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hed be so lethargic after everything. all in favor of letting him sleep in the tornado on the way home say aye

#sth #doodles #sonic frontiers spoilers #frontiers dlc spoilers #love thinking about how this different ending affects things #because its nearly the same in the credits scenes. but with the context of everything that just happened its fun to switch things up #also. ik the im with you vocal version is probably for eggman and sage. good for them. but listening to it while drawing this #some of the lyrics fit so nicely #its just kind of a nice wrap-up song. traveling home. reminiscing .#napping💤💤

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bonestrouslingbones · 3 months ago

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btw one of the things i want to do when i really rap up atbb for real is spontaneously get the energy at will to do actual updated fullbodies of the main 4 since now i actually have the ability to draw them the way they look in my head & have the skills to put some more variety in their shapes. basically i wanna

#warning big character design rambling in these tags but like. were u expecting any less #if ur wondering what changed-#first of all everybody has bigger hands bc i'm actively deciding to commit to that decision because i like it :3 #next russ is a bit taller . i'll probably change some other things like making his armor look more solid & making him look more frail #-without it but i dont wanna pick up my tablet rn so thats all i feel like editing with my mouse lmao #edge has the biggest changes mostly in just being Wider. i want to make him Look stronger yknow #currently its just one of those annoying “skinny anime girl actually has 2d spraypainted abs and can lift a truck” tropes that i Hate #its a lil too many triangles when he should really be more like a triangle-flavored square. yknow #that being said the weirdly feminine hips were not intentional but only time will tell if they make it into the actual final design or not #i will not be making his pauldrons wider than they were originally. those things are already wacking everything around him they're fine #fluff's change is just being a bit skinnier so he looks more pathetic and sad. probably gonna try to make him look a bit younger too #but age is hard to represent with skeletons from The Land Of Sharp Features #i might also change up his pants/shoes more idk. Baggy Everything makes a very difficult silhouette and the boots are just boring tbhh #they're the bi flag but i dont think a single person has ever noticed lmao #and stretch's biggest change is that he's going to Have A Fullbody Reference That Isn't From 2019 #probably make his hoodie longer/looser so i can make the transition to the leggings less awkward & show off his tank under it a bit more #the leggings & sneakers get to stay tho i think. the red wraps the design up well & the chicken legs are funny to me :>#and karma isn't here but he'll probably also get an update to be more square as well. and NOT SKINNYYYYYY #i gotta cram some more emotional repression & inferiority complex hints into his outfit so his post-void look contrasts more its IMPORTANT #AND ALSO NEVER USE UNDERTALE SPRITES AS A REFERENCE FOR ARMOR EVER EVER EVER AGAIN #that being said im really excited to one day finally sit down and draw his post-void design i think i'll have fun with that one #theres a reason my sf bros dont really fit their “roles” in the au yet like undyne & alphys do. hehehe #basically to sum up all these tags: becoming more skilled at art is a curse because you KNOW you can do things better now

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carcarrot · 6 months ago

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old man yells at cloud about constant sequels

#i wantttttt to like the beetlejuice sequel (just saw the trailer) and i don't want to be a hater. however #i dont knowwwww i mean theres a lot of callbacks to the original. which is good. its just #maybe its seeing some of these same effects done in cgi. or something #like it just looks like every other modern movie except w some of that beetlejuice imagery #im assuming the sandworms are cgi. bring back the claymationnnn bring back practical effectssss #idk im just really getting to hate the way movies nowadays look that are likely shot digitally and are just so subdued color wise #is any of this making sense.#like thinking of the original beetlejuice like whoa the colors were popping! greens reds purples!#and theyre so important and tied to the look of the movie and how it sticks in your mind #(im sorry. beetlejuice has always been one of my favorite movies. but anyway)#and now the sequel just looks ehhhh. you know #also we still should have had beetlejuice goes hawaiian instead. if we had to have a sequel #plus the story of the sequel seems so dependent on the story of the first movie like is there going to be anything original?#what made the first movie so good was not only was it a fun different storyline of these ghosts and everything #but it was also a good satire of the yuppies of that era as well as the idea of the afterlife and ghosts and all that. which was different!#im probably not making all of my points clearly and this doesnt really matter anyway but anyway #i need movies to be standalone movies. i dont want everything to be part of a series #i dont want beetlejuice to be called beetlejuice 1 #bc then ill be saying 'back in my day we had only one beetlejuice'#LIKE. yes some movies are really good and you could watch a whole tv show more with the characters in that movie #but it doesnt actually have to be made. thats for you to imagine in your mind #like wow i love those characters in beetlejuice. i wonder what it would be like going forward for these people to live with ghosts #but thats for you and your imagination!!!! ugh i dont know is any of this making sense i ask again. i keep trying to wrap up this post #but im very passionate about films and as i think about my own main movie idea/screenplay #i love my characters and i could put them in dozens of scenarios that would be very funny for them to deal with #but i dont think they need a five film series. the one movie is enough for the main storyline #ok im going to eat something. enough bitching from me about the current state of film

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tonycries · 5 months ago

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The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school.

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt.

Never mess with you. Anyone but you.

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second.

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team.

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile.

Everything.

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else.

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all.

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss.

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you.

Everything.

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio.

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you.

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries.

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments.

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew.

You’d kissed him back.

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister.

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good.

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up.

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by.

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling.

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.”

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine.

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics.

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked.

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss.

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door.

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that.

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for.

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth.

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours.

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes.

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship.

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious.

What did he have that Satoru didn’t?

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his.

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.”

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom.

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye.

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn.

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy.

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh.

Shit.

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank.

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck.

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.”

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now.

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?”

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.”

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused.

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today.

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway.

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there.

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru.

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms.

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life.

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned.

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.”

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you.

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt.

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you.

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist.

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?”

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?”

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you.

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so.

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots.

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually.

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit.

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene.

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?”

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully.

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out.

Like you were about to snap. Any second now.

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…” Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt.

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours.

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection.

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous.

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.”

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.”

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.”

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch.

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag.

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.”

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact.

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps.

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling.

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-”

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-”

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll.

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt.

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.”

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white.

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family.

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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slvttyplum · 4 months ago

Text

denial is such a funny thing because you can deny pretty much anything if people believe you enough, but this particular situation just didn't cut it enough that even you yourself don't believe the lies that came out of your mouth when you told people that you and satoru were just friends.

friends didn't fuck in a car at three a.m. coming from a party; friends didn't sixty-nine late at night out of horniness; friends didn't fuck each other just for the fun of it; everything that the both of you were doing to each other wasn't "friendly."

satoru found it comical when he saw a light of regret slide into your eye whenever you finished. it made him laugh because he knew that you wanted this and knew that there were things that you wanted to do with him that you couldn't even think about doing with anyone else, yet you denied it every time because it was a "mistake."

making sure not to cuddle after and to get out of his house or get him out of your house as fast as you could, throwing a "buddy" in there to assert some boundary, not knowing it had already been crossed and there was no going back. satoru didn't mind your denial of the way things fell, but he just wanted you to stop trying and instead just let things fall into place, so that's what he started to do.

fucking you out of your mind until you were blabbering, clinging out to him as you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck as your vision went blurry, droll dripping out the corner of your mouth, trying to stay focused, but satoru's dick feeling like it was buried in your stomach wasn't helping.

sometimes he would go hard just so that he could see your eyes fill with tears and your smile as he ran his arms over your body, touching you all over, kissing your neck, and down to your chest, leaving his mark so that it would be there the next time he saw you. there was no chance of getting it off any time soon because of the pressure he applied.

other times going slow so he could be more intimate with you, mainly teasing you and letting you know that this wasn't just a casual thing; this isn't normal; he wouldn't do this with anyone but you, and that wasn't because the both of you were close, but because this was much more than friendship.

so amused by the situation, he started tracking how many times the two of you fucked each other to see when you would finally put your foot down and stop fucking him, but months went by and he couldn't even track anymore because it was so absurd.

"sixty… we fucked sixty times." he murmured to himself before laughing. you were a piece of work, but he liked it; he knew you, and he knew that you weren't going to keep trying to convince yourself that this was just a friend thing, so he wasn't going to push you into telling him anything.

plus, he liked teasing you during sex; that was the best part—getting you fucked up from how high you got while getting fucked, head banging the headboard, and all—getting you to say the darndest things so he can say them back to you.

he was a patient man; he could wait.

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yanderenightmare · 3 months ago

Text

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, omegaverse, forced bonding is implied, subjugation, some type of sexism, soft dom, but extremely patronizing

♡ fem reader

You offer to go down on him for the first time since he claimed you for himself, and his heart swells with all sorts of bliss—shock and awe, love and pride—utterly overjoyed at the pretty sight of you, so pliant and on your knees, acting like a proper Omega for a change—his cutest little mate. It’s so adorable he ought to take pictures, yet he doesn’t want to miss a thing or spoil the mood—after all, you always get so embarrassed when he brings the camera out.

So he settles for just watching—his adoring eyes resting on you, admiring how you struggle to fit all of him inside your mouth, thinking it’s the just cutest and sweetest how you try so hard for him. Bless whatever brought this new change of behavior on. He can’t be grateful enough.

It was only a couple of days ago when you’d still bite and claw and run away from him at every turn, growling and snarling like a rabid wildling and not the sweet Omega he knew you could be with the proper love and care. Maybe it’s just that—has his love for you finally tamed you? Oh, he couldn’t be more pleased if that’s it.

Look at you… trying your very best. He didn’t mind if you could only fit half of him—just seeing you try to take it all made him more than happy. The way your pink tongue slides along his veins—all teasingly and ticklish—makes him smile while looking down at you. Petting your head in smooth, encouraging strokes—reminding you to breathe every now and again.

He even pinches your cheek when you cough, crooning, “Careful now, there’s no need to rush, baby—take it slow.”

You curse him from where you kneel at his feet, trying to get it over with quickly. Despite your struggles, he seems pleased, and you think you might have managed to get yourself off the hook. That is… until he wraps his cock with one of his big hands and pulls it away from you.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says in his best attempt at sounding suave by nature, and yet, as you look up at him, you see it plain as day.

It makes your guts fold—the eagerness that encompasses him as he looks down at you with kind eyes and a smile—not completely able to hide the frenzy behind it.

No, please, you sulk inwardly—your clit is so sensitive from yesterday, you think you might die if he toys with it again today. You almost indulge the urge to scoot back, attempt to crawl away, and hide in false hope. But you know, chasing you around would just serve as kindling to his inner animal—he would take it as a game, hunting and pinning you down only to lick you clean like a dug-up bone.

You shudder at the thought and almost beg him to allow you to continue, almost insist you can do better, but all you manage is to bite your tongue and cry instead.

“You did so good, baby, don’t pout,” he coos, cradling your face and lifting it up to let him kiss it silly—chastely yet excessively—quick pecks all over, the same way you’d kiss something that’s just too cute for its own good.

It’s his way of comforting you, you suppose, or it might just be him poking fun. You can never really tell with him—if his coddling is all some act or something even more unsettling. But you suppose it doesn’t really matter either.

“Come here, baby, and I’ll do the rest, okay?” he asks, and yet it isn’t a question as he hauls you up off the floor and repositions you as he sees fit—on your back, belly-up beneath him.

His alpha pheromones are quick to overwhelm you, thick and suffocating, pouring over you in waves, drenching you in sweat and something else—something that makes everything sensitive.

The former fight you had when you were still independent has all but left you completely—siphoned from your being every day that’s passed and left you soft like the rest of those Omegas you vowed you’d never become—weak-willed with a body even more so. You feel like a stuffed animal at this point, full of cloudy cotton with a broken voice device that only knows how to squeak when played with.

He takes you beneath the knees and folds them down neatly by your head—one large hand taking both your summoned ankles in a single grip—and you’re locked in, unable to do much else other than pant—kept from breathing too much by the weight of your own thighs pressing down on you.

This had been what you were trying to avoid—this awful position which he seems to love just as much as you dread.

He whistles in awe at the pretty sight of you—all squished beneath him like that—face flushed, and your bloated lips parted with cute little draws of breath—tits bunched together, glossed in a sheen of sweat and heaving with the labored rise and fall of your chest—and that adorable cunt, wet and puffy, swollen up like a pink pillow eagerly waiting for him, a soft bed for his cock and a perfectly bite-sized slice of his favorite cake. His gut rumbles, and his mouth soaks. To think he hasn’t had a single taste all day—he’s beyond starving.

You squirm under him, and he chuckles again, this time breathily—showing more of the unsightly animal with the low growl that seeps into his voice, “Such a pretty girl…” It’s unclear if he’s talking to you as his inkwell eyes are set on something else. He sags forward, back hunched as he bows down to face the object of his desire with only a hair’s breadth of separation—breaths thick, puffed hot against you—canines bared in an eerie smile. “So shy…”

He ignores your wiggling completely—pinching the chunk of cunt where your clit hides, making it peak forth like a little button to press, and his grin broadens.

“There it is,” he licks his teeth with a raspy sigh—eyes wide and deadset. “My beauty.”

You squirm a little more, even though you know you’re not going anywhere until he’s satisfied. He doesn’t waste much more time—not allowing you to prepare. Keeping the pinch, he opens his mouth wide and takes the chub with eyes closed, tongue flattened and wide, cloaking your exposed clit with thirst. “Mmgh…”

He always gets like this—cute-aggressive and pussy-whipped. It’s as if he and your cunt have their own private affair, the way he completely ignores you. No, that’s not entirely fair—he gets like that when feeding you his tongue as well, but you suppose it’s easier making out with your pussy as it doesn’t need to get up for air.

Neither does he, it seems.

He groans loudly and releases your clit from his pinching grip—but keeps his whole mouth on you—lips, tongue, and all—nose and chin too, buried there while his hand moves down to slip three digits inside, filling you up with little regard to the stretch.

Your breath flares and shudders with a whimpery moan, toes curling along with his fingers, biting your lip at how he hooks them right into the soft spot of your gummy walls, then fingerbangs you fast, right down to the knuckles each time.

“Fuck, baby—so, so good, always so good,” he slurs out into you, tongue otherwise too engaged to bother sounding coherent, yet you understand nonetheless, even though you can never really get used to it—how utterly unashamed he is. “Come on, baby, cum f’mo—cum on my face—” he all but happily begs, tongue out, slurping your slit brazenly.

He’s not a very classic Alpha—how he worships you on his hands and knees with a throat full of plead and praise. He doesn’t even touch himself—cock left hung and bobbing against the bedsheets, hard and strung up with a net of veins, pilling pearls of pre that all go to waste—too busy with you.

It’s stupid how you’re the one who ends up feeling ignored as the unwanted and overwhelming pleasure manhandles you into submission.

“Cum, baby, give it to me.”

You mewl as his tongue draws something out from within you, making your clit blare and thrum with your heartbeat. You struggle to enjoy it, you always do, feeling forced to surrender, and yet the more you try and deny it, the firmer his hold gets, relentless as he sends you right over the edge. You yelp and seize up once it takes you—clenching tightly around his digits as they unknot your insides, turning you into utter putty in his palm.

And even then, he doesn’t stop—as if he doesn’t know how—sighing with elation as you quake on his tongue. That crooked smile on his face, nothing short of predatory and vile as he maintains the motion of his fingers, moaning in turn at your cute spasming and all the wordless babble that leaves your lips as you shake your head, crying for him to leave it alone. “Plea’ no more—stop, too much—”

He just chuckles against you—you really are too cute for your own good. Silly little Omega, don’t you know what your pheromones do to him? But okay, fine, since you asked nicely. He gives the slit one last thorough lick before wiping his smile while sitting up.

You haven’t even started coming down when he dabs the weight of his shaft upon the sensitivity, cooing at the lewd little plaps it makes, all slick as he slides the length between your flustered pussylips—fucking through the fat of the mound, running over your full clit, again and again, while listening to you squeak more nothings.

He only croons, “Yeah, I know you like that, baby—this pretty pussy of yours just loves my attention, doesn’t it?" His eyes seem to glow with something sickly, his voice thin, just shy of unhinged. "Always so cute, I could die.”

He can’t get over it—you’re too adorable like this. Watching you pleasure him was a welcome surprise, but ultimately, this is how he always wants you—flipped and pinned with your cunt exposed to his every wish—his favorite toy that never disappoints.

“Your pretty pussy’s always such a crybaby, y’know that? Look how it weeps f’mo—so needy to get stuffed. I bet you want my knot, huh?” he keeps mumbling while using his cock to play with your overworked cunt without yet entering it. “Alright, baby—don’t worry—I’ll give it to you,” he rasps, drooling.

You can’t keep from whimpering when the bed jostles, accounting for his repositioning as he moves to mount you with his feet planted down flat on the bed. Your ankles are pinned passed your head at this point, tipping your cunt up higher than your head.

“Yeah—I’ll give you what you want.” His voice darkens, and so does the look in his eyes—soaked in something you don’t like—something wild and downright terrifying. “And I’ll give it to you good.”

You almost protest, but you know there’s no getting through to him—not with that expression. You hate Alphas, you hate him, and you really hate this awful pose—this mating-press pile-driving overkill where he always bullies into the backroom of your cunt, insisting on fucking your cervix as he digs his cockhead right at the mouth of your womb, knotting you and filling you up with the full worth of his load. It never fails to make you feel utterly wrecked and bedridden in the morning.

But he doesn’t care about that. You have no places you’re supposed to be anyway—nowhere aside from right here, in his bed, where you belong—his sweet Omega bride who’s going to give him lots of pups.

He lines himself up, pressing his head past the ring—watching it swallow around him and biting his lip at the sight. “Look at it, baby—look as I stuff that perfect pussy all the way up—”

He sinks in slowly, revering your cunt for every inch you receive—watching it in awe as it takes the entirety of his length right down to the base. It’s like a magic trick how it all disappears—you’re so tiny, and yet you’re built for this, to take every part of him in, hugging his shaft with velvet heat, milking him as he kneads the spot inside you that always makes you cry out so good for him.

“Yes, baby—that’s my girl—take it all,” he coos, all but sitting on your ass with his cock down your cunt. “It’s like your pussy’s made for me, isn’t it? Perfectly tight, perfectly deep, perfectly wet and chunky to feel like I’m fucking heaven itself—”

You feel no different from a toy when he does this—a squeaky toy manufactured for a Chihuahua puppy, yet mistakenly given to a full-grown Rottweiler. He straight dogs your cunt through several peaks—so soaked now that it fossettes down both the slope of your belly and the cliff of your spine. And still, he keeps going, rambling on like usual—all words that fail to reach you.

You’re so lightheaded you’re on the brink of passing out—overheating and out of strength, numb and tingly, beyond happy when you finally feel his knot swell within, propping you to take his seed.

He keels over—his thighs pressed down tightly atop yours—panting above you—eyes half-mast and glazed, almost crying in bliss while feeding you his cum, knowing it's flooding your womb, breeding you full of warmth and love.

“Yes, every drop, baby—it’s all yours.” He keeps a thumb rubbing over your clit as he croons. Voice beyond lovesick, “Let’s make too many pups to count.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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