#le drunken

[baldo-poster]

2025 sera groovy ou ne sera pas !

[cleocatrablossy]

PIRATETIMEPIRATETIMEPIRATETIME

they are theatre kids your honor

[allegedlyblue]

the temptation to make the next chapter of my fic 5,000 words of enjolras and grantaire debating marx in the louvre ...

[paperandsong]

Le Moine des Étangs-Brisses

From Légendes rustiques, illustrated by Maurice Sand, written by George Sand, 1858

Original French at Project Gutenberg

English translation:

Passers-by who walk along the marshes under the sun’s last rays, beware that gigantic monk who suddenly rises up from amidst the reeds. Flee, and don't listen to his damnable talk!

- Maurice Sand

Jeanne and Pierre lingered one Sunday along the Étangs-Brisses (Broken Ponds). This is not a cheerful place, much less so at night. Once past the woods, one arrives on a large, barren plateau, where there are only rushes and sand and large puddles of water which run together in the rainy season to form a sort of lake, whose bed appears all black.

In times gone by, a wicked, wine-drunk monk drowned there along with his donkey, having tried to follow a very narrow little roadway covered over with water. The donkey had never done anything wrong, and was never even heard braying; but this libertine monk was doomed to feel the pangs of death and the agonies of his final hour for as long as there remained a single drop of water in the Étangs-Brisses. Now, although civilization encroaches on the edges of these little lakes, further with every passing year, they do not show any sign of drying up; therefore the monk’s torment continues on, and will last for God knows how much longer! 

Jeanne was well aware of the bad reputation of these ponds, but Pierre did not want to believe the stories, nor did he care about them. He prevented her from thinking about them, telling her all manner of things, lovely and agreeable to Jeanne’s ears. They were engaged to be married and were just returning from the city, where they had picked out their wedding livery, which is to say, new clothes, ribbons, and lace for their big day. They were out walking together, holding each other by the little finger as is customary for the betrothed, when their feet stepped into mud on the roadway. The day before, a large thunderstorm had swollen the pond, overflowing its banks a bit.

“You’ve gotten me lost,” Jeanne said to her lover. “I don’t think this is the right path.”

“Just wait and I’ll get my bearings,” Pierre replied. “It’s true, the sun has gone down and the reeds are all black, they all look the same. Stay here a little while, and I'll go see how to find our way out.” 

Jeanne was tired; she sat down in the reeds and looked up at the red sky, all speckled, which is to say, it was marbled with yellow and brown, and her thoughts turned sad, although she could not say why. “If it were really nighttime,” she thought, “I wouldn't want to be alone in this awful place where that monk died so long ago. Oh, I hope Pierre won’t make a wrong turn in all this wild grass!” She followed him with her eyes for as long as she could, but then she could not see him anymore, and her poor body began to tremble.

All of a sudden she saw a large flock of wild ducks fly up from one side, making such noise; and then, rising up on tiptoe, she saw Pierre returning, amusing himself by throwing pebbles into the water to rouse the other flocks of birds that filled the ponds as night came descending from the sky.

When Pierre reached her side, he said to her, “We are on the right path, and we’ll be fine except for a little mud. Let me catch my breath a minute; I walked pretty fast, and besides, this isn’t such a bad place to rest.”

“It’s funny you think it’s nice here, Pierre; I don’t like it, and it feels like I’ve been here a long time already. Rest up quickly, because I want to get out of here before nightfall.”

Once Pierre seated himself alongside Jeanne in the reeds, he said to her, 

“My God, Jeanne, time must have dragged on for me, too, while I was out there walking, because it feels like I haven’t kissed you for two years.”

“Don’t say that!” she replied. “You kissed me not even two quarters of an hour ago.”

“Well, then! My darling, where is the harm in that?”

“I’m not saying there is any, since we are getting married!”

“And so let me have one more little kiss now, or seven.”

Jeanne let herself be kissed just once, and said that that was enough. She didn’t see any mischief in it, but she knew that even if country people are permitted to kiss their betrothed while out walking, in front of passers-by, it is neither proper nor honest se dire ses amitiés in secret from the world, and to stay for too long in places where no one goes.

Pierre was a proper young man, just as he should be, which is to say that he knew how to behave in the right way, and was content to let Jeanne keep him at a safe distance, and he didn’t play that game of overstepping his rights little by little only to have the pleasure of receiving a good slap from her from time to time, which is, as everyone knows, the greatest mark of trust and friendship.

And after they bickered in this friendly fashion for a little while, they began to talk about the future, which is still a very exciting topic between two people who are about to spend the rest of their lives together. And there they were, counting and recounting their meagre assets, building themselves a new house and planting a pretty little garden, if only in their minds; for these poor children didn’t have much, and they had to work hard just to keep hold of what they did have.

But now a voice which Pierre could not hear began to speak to Jeanne as though it were Pierre’s, while a voice began to speak to Pierre as though it were Jeanne’s, and yet it was not, and Jeanne did not hear that either. And so they thought they were saying things to each other that they were not, and found themselves on bad terms without really knowing why. Jeanne reproached Pierre for being lazy and for loving the cabaret; Pierre reproached Jeanne for being a coquette and over-valuing gallantry. And so they both started to tear up and pout, not wanting to talk anymore.

The astonishing thing was that when they stopped speaking, and couldn’t even see one another’s lips moving, they both still heard a very muffled voice which sounded like that of a frog or a wild duck when it spoke, and which said the most wicked words in the world.

“What are you doing, you children, sulking instead of taking advantage of the night and your solitude? Are you foolishly waiting for the end of the week in order to love one another freely? What a load of nonsense marriage is! Don’t you know that marriage is just pain, misery, quarrels, worrying about children, and days without bread? Come on, come on, you innocents! You’ll cry the very next day after your wedding, if you don’t fight instead! Can’t you see that when you wanted to talk about your future and your household just now, you couldn’t get along?

Life is foolish and miserable, make no mistake; you’d do well to forget your duties and seek pleasure without constraint. Love each other now, for if you do not take advantage of the moment that presents itself, you will never find it again, and no one will know anything about your partnership except by its blows and its insults, those flowers of youth that sting, and those wild oats!”

Jeanne and Pierre were very afraid. They held hands and clasped each other tight without daring to breathe. Jeanne understood nothing of what the wicked voice said to them. The words passed right through her ears like those of some Devil's Mass spoken in defiance of reason; but Pierre, who knew more, listened despite his fear and understood almost everything.

“This voice is ugly, I agree,” he said. “But its words are not wrong, and if you trust me, Jeanne, you might listen to it too.”

“Whether its words are beastly or beautiful, I don't care,” she replied. “They scare me, although I don't understand them at all; someone is laughing at us because we are all alone, trapped in an unpleasant place. Let's go quickly, my Pierre. This person here, living or dead, wants to do us nothing but harm.”

“No, Jeanne, they wish us well, because they pity the fate that awaits us, and if you’d just understand what they are saying . . .”

And then Pierre, feeling himself possessed by the Devil, wanted to restrain Jeanne, as she wanted to leave, and that evil spirit believed itself for a moment to be the stronger of them.

But the spawn of evil isn’t able to do good Christians as much harm as it wishes. The libertine monk, seeing that Pierre’s conscience had stumbled, was in too much of a hurry to claim his soul. He sang out in his marshy voice, “Come, come, my dear children, there’s no need for candles nor witnesses here. If you need someone to declare you two wed, I can speak the right words. Get down on your knees before me, and you’ll have the blessing of Beelzebub!”

Saying this, the monk appeared, broaching the water with his huge head under its muddy cowl.

“Oh, help!” cried Jeanne. “There’s a big otter, and it’s coming to attack us!”

“No, it won’t,” said Pierre. “I’ll turn it back with my walking-stick.”

But as he leaned over the water to look, he saw the monk's fiery eyes, and then he saw his beard all stuffed full of leeches and frogs, and then his rotting body with its withered legs and its two long arms all dripping with moss and slime, which he was spreading out wide like two wings over the heads of the two lovers in order to consecrate them unto Satan.

But Pierre, although he wasn’t a great coward, was so shocked to see this monk arise and grow ever and ever upwards, as though he wanted to reach the very clouds, that he simply fled screeching like a rusty axle and running like a hare, pulling that poor Jeanne behind him, she who was now more dead than alive, and yet who did not need to be told to leap across those roadways with her feet wet and her hair blowing in the wind.

In fact, they ran so well that they reached their parents’ homes without once turning their heads, and without once taking the time to exchange a single word. They married in all sanctity eight days later, without having listened to the advice of that wicked monk who was, it is said, so embarrassed at having missed his catch that he stayed dormant for a long time before daring to reappear and attempt fishing for Christian souls once more.

The belief in some gruff monk who goes about both threatening and plaintive, knocking on the doors of houses at night and withdrawing at daybreak only with horrible howls, was once only proverbial.

This has long been maintained in almost every province of France. There are many legends of debauched monks, and of priests who broke their vows. There are few presbyteries never haunted by any tormented souls such as these, and, as of the last twenty years, there are few country churches where the spirit of some dead priest has never appeared at dawn to attempt to deliver a great expiatory Mass that he is never able to complete unless he can find a living person of good will who has the courage to answer him with an amen.

George SAND

[dirtychild]

[trashpidgeon48]

Currently obsessed with the idea of Grantaire as a protective older brother figure to Gavroche.

[laurawithslblues]

Into the Fairelands

“Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyesThey call me on and on across the universe“ We’ve waited with our eyes full of dreams and memories, we’ve counted the minutes and the seconds, and now it’s time: the portals are open once again and the magic from the Fairelands calls for us, the Fantasy Faire 2024 has begun. The Faire means many different things for us. For some,…

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

General Pandemonium (Yosemite Sam): What is your nationality? Drunken Stork: I'm a (hiccup) drunkard. Captain Louis (Pepe le Pew): Zat makes zees stork a ceeteezen of le world.

[hiraethwrote]

I'LL MAKE YOU MISS ME

♬ ₊˚. insp: i'll make you miss me - artemas

✧ pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader ✧ summary: if asked, both of you would probably just describe your relatioship as purely physical, seeing as he sleeps with anything that moves. but after one of your drunken nights together, things get heated and there might be something more hidden under the surface of your relation ✧ cw: [MDNI] non-curse au, college au, modern!sukuna, angst, arguing, situationship?, fwb kinda deal, cursing, suggestive content, talk and descriptions of sex, partying and drinking, toxic behavior, name calling, gaslighing, heavy denial, mention of weed, satoru cameo, slut shaming, reader is smaller than sukuna, one tiny 'go die' joke, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 11.4k (hehe)

It was always just supposed to be a fling. A string of meaningless hookups at best. He was after all, known around campus as the guy who went from one girl to the next only to get his dick wet.

All the teasing you’d endured, endless STD jokes from your friends and taunting about how you were just another one of his conquests. You’d only laughed it all off and told them “but that dick is worth it though,” with a playful glint in your eyes.

It was only meant to be fun. So why were you now standing in front of him with tear stained cheeks, chest rising and sinking as you tried to calm your breathing at nearly four a.m. in the morning?

Feeling so exposed wearing nothing but one of your oversized t-shirts and panties that you’d rushed to put on once the atmosphere had turned hostile, arms hugging tightly around yourself while he stared at you with an angry scowl, not mirroring an ounce of the hurt you were feeling.

You regretted ever opening your mouth to ask such an innocent question that had weighed down on your mind for the past two months; “so what’s the deal?”

Whatever it was that was going on between the two of you, it had all slowly shifted into a strange and alien territory. Like so many nights before, you and Sukuna had left yet another house party to head back to your dorm where he fucked you silly — like he always did. But that time he didn’t get dressed and leave the second it was over. No, he fell asleep… beside you… in your bed… one hand draped over your stomach. After that, he stayed the night after almost every sinful night spent together, though he was always gone by the time you woke up.

Though you thought it somewhat strange, that in itself wasn’t enough for you to wonder where it was you stood with him. It wasn’t until he stood outside your door on a random Wednesday, a bag of popcorn in one hand and a bottle of soda in the other, that it hit you just how absurd this whole thing had turned. He was so pissed off when he showed up for the surprise visit, something clearly bothering him, but god forbid he told you — you suspected something so mundane as a bad grade on his last exam or something.

Without much explanation, he just made his way into your dorm and got comfortable on your bed, where you eventually ended up just watching a movie with the bowl of snacks between you. And once the end credits started rolling, there was a noticeable lightness in him. He indulged in some small (and unusual) chatter before he said his goodbyes and left. He didn’t even stay for a quick fuck.

After that you started to notice that some of his stuff was scattered about your private space. One of his hoodies, a textbook he had barely cracked open, his phone charger permanently plugged in by your bed.

But it was the casual conversations that took place after sex that really had your gears churning about what the hell was actually going on. Secret words shared at the dead of night, introducing you to a side of Sukuna you had no idea even existed, though neither of you ever brought up said conversations the next time you saw each other.

This wasn’t what you expected from someone who was notorious for not maintaining any relationship with a girl besides getting in their pants — leading you to eventually be unable to hold your tongue.

And his entire body instantly froze up beside you when the question quietly slipped past your lips. Jumping out of the bed, he fell back to the tough exterior as he hurriedly put his clothes back on, all while he bombarded you with cruel comments, causing the tears to well up in your eyes momentarily.

“Save the tears, okay? It’s fucking pathetic,” he groaned as he pulled the jacket over his shoulders.

Just as the next sob was about to escape, you stopped yourself, feeling so humiliated. “I just wanted to know what’s going on-“

“Nothing,” he interrupted with a raised voice, causing you to flinch. “It’s just sex. God, you girls always get so clingy.”

“So you don’t think it’s weird for you to leave your stuff here?” You said carefully.

“God forbid a guy leaves a fucking charger without it meaning anything,” he took an intimidating step closer, and though you didn’t shrink in his presence, you became aware of the natural size difference between the two of you, especially when he presented himself so dominant. “It’s here cause it’s convenient, seeing as how willing you are to spread your legs at the tiniest drop of attention.”

So much for stifling your tears, when he brought them back so quickly with meaner words than he had ever thrown your way before.

His head fell backwards with a loud groan. “More god damn tears,” you barely heard him whisper.

And to think you’d covered for him. He had never asked you to, but every time your friends had come over to study in your dorm, you had instinctively hid any signs that he’d ever been there at all, because you just had a feeling he wanted whatever was happening between you to be a secret.

What was worse, was how it was never you who initiated any of your evenings together. It was always Sukuna who approached you at parties when he’d had enough drinking for one night, throwing a possessive arm over your shoulders. It was always him who sent you oh-so-chivalrous texts in the middle of the night, asking if you were up.

Every previous encounter soared through your mind, added on top of his merciless words, and something in you snapped.

“Fine!” You spat, followed by a loud sob. The sudden shift in your entire body didn’t go unnoticed by him, as you spotted the slight quirk in his eyebrow once you raised your voice. “Then get the fuck out.”

“What?” He asked in confusion, more of a hypothetical question in sheer shock.

“You heard me,” you said as you grabbed his hoodie from the floor, taking him by surprise when you threw it in his direction. “And take your clothes. And your charger, and your fucking books,” it escalated, hurling his textbook for his head. He barely flinched as you missed his face by an inch, crashing into the door with a bang. You grabbed one of the many packets of cigarettes he’d left throughout his time here. “And these.” The packet opened once it collided with his chest, scattering the cigarettes all over the floor. “Smoke them all up and I might not have to see your face again!”

A shallow scoff left him as he flashed you a taunting smirk which stung more than it should have. “You’re absolutely insane.” Just mere minutes ago he’d traced secret streaks along your bare skin, so gentle one could never have believed it was him the touch belonged to. He’d would definitely not admit to that now.

You stomped over to him, placing two firm hands on his chest and started to shove him towards the door. “Get out, Sukuna!” Your shove did little to make his feet move, but luckily he had willingly started to step back. “Get out!” You shouted again. “Get out. Get the fuck out!”

His hand twisted open the door knob, and he opened his mouth one last time. “Crazy slut,” he managed to say under his breath before he just slipped out the door.

You took one step out after him, still more on your heart. “And that moment when you find yourself missing me, bet your ass I’m not answering,” you shouted after him down the hall, only for him to flip you the finger over his shoulder before he turned the corner. All the feelings still consuming you, you slammed the door shut with all the force left in your body, not caring about the noise complaints you knew you would be receiving tomorrow.

Suddenly, your dorm felt a lot bigger, abandoned almost. The silence that filled the air was nothing but uncomfortable. And you knew it wasn’t over.

You could avoid Sukuna as much as you wanted, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop all the shit talk he would spread around campus. Soon enough you’d probably be known as the loosest bitch in a ten miles radius.

And still, what bothered you the most was just how hurt you were. Not a single atom in your body wanted to admit it, but a small part of you wanted him to just come back into the dorm and fill the void he had created by his gut wrenching departure.

“You can ask him, seeing as he’s your boyfriend,” your friend snickered, bringing you back to the conversation you had zoned out of long ago.

“Huh?”

“Sukuna,” your other friend said as they shared a slightly worrying look.

The grunt of disgust that expelled out of you had them raise their eyebrows in surprise. “What about him?”

“He is our most reliable source for weed. Thought you could get him to bring a stash to the party this weekend.” The frown pinching your eyebrows had been chronic the entire conversation.

“Not fucking happening.”

Uncomfortable silence fell over the three of you. It didn’t take a genius to see something had gone down between you and Sukuna, because you had never showed any signs of pure hatred towards the guy whenever he was playfully mentioned around you — but now you were acting as if he was just as insignificant as the dirt on your shoe. Neither of them had the guts to ask either, especially as the tension in your body grew tighter when all of you spotted him walk into the library with one of his friends.

As quickly as you’d spotted him, you shifted your head back to your computer, doing your very best to ignore him.

You hated the effect he had on you, having humiliated and insulted you beyond belief, and yet you were the one fighting to keep your eyes off of him. He probably wasn’t even aware that you were sitting anywhere near him at all.

Why did he have this power over you? What was it about him that had you pulled in so badly? There had been nothing of value in your relation that was worth clinging onto, had there?

No, there couldn’t be. You could go out tonight and find someone just as hot and just as cruel as him to rock your world for one night if you wanted to. So why were you still hung up on a certain pink haired idiot who had a different type of hate in is eyes? A guy who didn’t even care that you were secretly miserable after the fallout.

Or so you thought.

Sukuna didn’t understand it, but he had himself instantly searching for your familiar figure whenever he entered a room. Of course he was aware that you were sitting in the library as well, eyes shifting between your laptop screen, your textbook and your notes. He tried, to the best of his ability, to not glance in your direction, not wanting to give his friend anything to hassle him about.

What also surprised him, was how much he wished he’d catch you staring in his direction. But he was only left disappointed, an unfamiliar sting filling his body when you never spared him a single sliver of attention.

“So you’re going this weekend, right?”

“Hmm?” Sukuna asked, managing to snap his eyes to his friend before he noticed him staring in your direction. “Yeah, of course. You know me,” his cocky tone quickly finding its way back to his voice, accompanied by a smirk to match.

He kept his smirk plastered on display, even when his friend squinted slightly at him. “You alright there?” The faintest, reactive twitch occurred under Sukuna’s left eye at the friendly concern, but he thought he’d been lucky enough that his friend didn’t notice.

God, he hated you, he thought.

Never had his friends ever asked him if he was doing alright, simply because he never gave them a reason to. Sukuna wasn’t the type to confront his feelings, let alone talk to anyone about anything. So if something was bothering him, he always put on a carefree face, like nothing in the world could ever faze him.

And then you came along, with your sharp tongue and crude lips that served him exactly the things he deserved to hear, never holding back.

You had been like a breath of fresh air, catching him completely by surprise. Yeah, at first he had approached you solely for sex, having caught his eye across the room at some drunken house party some time back, looking so incredibly sexy he just knew he was going to end the night between your legs one way or another. With time, when you turned out to be a lot tougher then you looked, he found himself lured in until eventually he felt an unfamiliar sense of comfort — he never admitted that though, not to himself or anyone else.

It wasn’t just the fact that you retaliated with snappy comebacks when they were called for, but it was more importantly the empathy you had in your eyes whenever you looked at him. He wasn’t used to being looked at like that. He couldn’t really remember doing anything worthy of such a compassionate gesture, but it just seemed like it came naturally to you.

That had grown to become what he appreciated the most by your company, which was why he tended to seek it so often.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugged casually, turning his eyes back to his laptop, pretending to work.

“I don’t know, just seem off, somehow.”

“Might have something to do with university riding my ass,” he groaned as his head fell back, sneaking a quick glimpse towards you, disappointed when he yet again wasn’t met with your eyes.

But it was all probably just a temporary quarrel. It wasn’t like you hadn’t fought before (though it had never ended as badly as it did that night), and every time he ended up back in your bed.

Saturday, two weeks since you had physically rushed him out of your dorm, he reached out.

You had gone with your friends to a house party the following weekend, and had an awful time. It seemed like no matter how much you drank, you never even started to feel tipsy. Then you had overheard a rumour in passing, of a girl who was looking for her friend who had supposedly disappeared with a certain brooding guy with pink hair, which had her a little concerned. After that there was no saving your mood.

You didn’t want to give him the power to cause this reaction in you, so this weekend you’d decided to just stay inside, telling your friends you weren’t feeling too good. You had wrapped yourself in a blanket, binging a silly sitcom while you devoured some chips.

And just as the clock passed two a.m., about the time Sukuna usually decided he’s had enough of whatever party he was at, your phone dinged with a text message from him.

Sukuna (IGNORE): hey, you down?

Your eyes instantly rolled aggressively far back into your head at the shameless attempt of reaching out. This was exactly what you expected if you ever were to hear from him again; a cheeky little text in the middle of the night to see if you would give yourself up so willingly to him.

Who could blame him? It wasn’t like you hadn’t opened the door for him every time he came rushing over. But this time was going to be different, locking your phone without answering and tossing it beside you again.

After ten minutes, another ding chimed.

Sukuna (IGNORE): cmon pretty, you and me

Again you ignored it, your slowly growing agitation having you chew the inside of your cheek.

Ding!

Sukuna (IGNORE): really gonna ignore me?

Sukuna (IGNORE): this is ridiculous

Sukuna (IGNORE): you’re a real piece of work, yk that right?

Then he went radio silent, and you started to picture him, wondering if he was secretly losing his mind by the lack of response he was receiving — you hoped he was.

You could only begin to imagine the amount of alcohol he had needed to consume in order to get down from his high horse just to send the first text. But then when he continued to send them, bordering on a pathetic behaviour, you wondered what the hell had gotten into him. If his friends knew how he was acting so desperately in the private messages of a girl he was supposedly “only screwing”, they would lose their shit — was Sukuna finally pussy whipped?

But it was probably delusional of you to think that was the case, when it was a lot more likely he simply couldn’t find any girls at the party that he hadn’t fucked already or didn’t interest him, and he was just so certain you were ready to welcome him with open legs arms. You were after all, according to him, a crazy slut.

After 45 minutes, an involuntary sigh escaped you when your phone dinged another time, his name lighting up the screen.

Sukuna (IGNORE): come open up

“Unbelievable,” you muttered to yourself, the last text making you get up from your comfortable seat on your bed, but not to open up the door to the building. No, you headed for your window which had a perfect view of the entrance to the building. And sure enough, three floors down, standing right outside the locked door, stood the familiar figure of Sukuna, gaze already angled towards your window.

“Open the fucking door,” you could make out his muffled shout through the window. Slightly stumbling in place, he cupped his hands around his mouth to shout again. “It’s freezing like hell out here!”

There was a small urge burning inside you to do as he asked, to give into the desire and let him in. Not for sex though, but for his presence. It was embarrassing to admit, but you’d grown somewhat used to falling asleep next to him, his body warming you under the shared covers, your fingers following the lines of his tattoos while he left a trail of tingles on your skin with a modest touch.

And the secret conversations you both let disappear into oblivion, where you had been introduced to the rare sound of his low chuckle, which wasn’t so hard to pull from him as one might think.

His muffled, intoxicated yelling continued when he held your stare, only for you to block it by abruptly pulling your blinds down to shield him out.

The next weekend rolled around, and Sukuna was attending yet another party in a desperate attempt to rid you from his mind, especially after the show that took place just one week ago.

Never had there ever been an individual to have such an impact on him. It seemed like forever since he had made the mistake of pursuing you for a few moments of pleasure, which you had certainly provided. What he couldn’t have possibly predicted, was how you had managed to creep under his skin and create a deeper connection that had him coming back time and time again — still refusing to believe that connection was a reality.

And now you had him acting like a pathetic fool, showing up outside your window in his drunken state after littering your inbox with texts that had him absolutely mortified the next morning when he woke up and saw what he had done.

At least you’d done him the decency of not running your mouth about his little drunken tantrum. It wasn’t like he deserved it, and deep down he knew that too. But he was more hung up on the fact that this whole ordeal needed to end, because he’d never hear the end of it if his friends learned that he, of all people, was acting up because of a girl.

But not tonight either, would he catch a break from you tormenting his mind, as he was unable to keep his alluring glances from flicking in your direction whenever he spotted you through the thick crowd of drunken people.

You seemed to be so wrapped up in your own evening, downing drink after drink while laughing with your friends, looking blissfully unaware that he was even in the same house as you.

He knew he needed a form of distraction, anything to help take his mind off of you, because it was starting to get to a point where even he couldn’t deny how extremely pathetic he was behaving.

That’s when his eyes managed to shift to the individual laughing at your side, someone he recognised you had sat with in the library on several occasions. Her smile mirrored yours as she playfully leaned her head on your shoulder while her tipsy laugh overcame her — she looked good, absolutely striking, though not as gorgeous as you.

With a glint in her eyes, Sukuna could tell she definitely had a wild side to her that would be down for anything that could take his mind away from you. So the second she split from your side to get another drink, he slowly made his way over to her.

When she became aware of his looming presence behind her, he was met with furrowed eyebrows as his name fell from her lips in confusion. But it didn’t take much effort from him to soften her expression into a somewhat adventurous one. He just did what he did best and girls seemed to fall at his feet, it didn’t matter what reputation he had. And when he sensually brought his hand up to cup her jaw, he could feel how she shuddered against his touch ever so slightly.

Contrary to popular belief, Sukuna hadn’t been with anyone since you. He had definitely tried, but something unspeakable inside him stopped him every time. And he firmly believed that was part of the reason he hadn’t been able to move on. So tonight was the night he broke his voluntary dry period — and it seemed he was going to be successful.

But as much as he was trying to keep his attention on the girl he couldn’t remember the name of, his subconscious still drifted towards the idea of you, if you were aware of his advances on your friend.

Lucky for you, the alcohol running through your bloodstream had all your attention focused on your immediate surroundings — until your friend came tapping on your shoulder twenty minutes later, pulling you close to her so you would hear her clearly.

“Would you mind if I slept with Sukuna?”

“What?”

Barely any sound made its way past your tongue, definitely swallowed into the vacuum of loud music and talk of the party. Pure shock was written all over your face at her out of pocket question.

“Well, I know the two of you had this arrangement. But that’s over, right?” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth to stifle the excited grin that was threatening to overtake her entire face.

Maybe it was partly because of the intoxicating liquid in your system, but you had trouble wrapping your head around what was actually happening right now. Was she actually asking for your permission to sleep with Sukuna? Some friend she had was… then again, you knew what kind of influence he had on girls — of course he was having her surrender to him.

While swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, your eyes searched for him, breath hitching when you found his eyes already locked on you. This was the first time in a long time the two of you had made direct eye contact, and it nearly felt fragile.

A glimpse of the Sukuna you’d come to get to know in between the privacy of your bedsheets was who you were met with, and a weird sense of longing filled you — had you missed him?

From what you observed, you could easily think he felt the same, his Adam’s apple bopping nervously as he swallowed, holding your gaze tenderly. For a moment, it was just the two of you in the room. There was nearly a physical pull between where he stood and yourself, as the look you shared started to convey hundreds of unmentioned things.

But Sukuna caught himself before falling too deep, the melancholy you felt evaporating immediately when his cocky grin returned to his face before putting his cup to his lips again, and the familiar fury filled your body instead.

“Definitely over,” you muttered, eyes returning to your friend who lit up at your statement.

“So you won’t hate me?” Her hands gripped your forearm, shaking weakly in excitement.

“No.” The small lie danced in the atmosphere, and she did not catch it at all, spewing a string of cute ‘thank you’s before hurrying back over to Sukuna, who still had his eyes on you as she glued herself to him once again.

There were a lot of foul things you wanted to scream at him, letting all your frustration out on him again — even after these lonely weeks, were you had cursed yourself for even thinking of missing him, he was still the same asshole with no consideration for your feelings whatsoever. Everything was just a game to him to get high of his power trip, and you had just fallen into his trap like so many girls before you.

You averted your gaze first, trying your best to have your presence return to the party — you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of spoiling yet another one of your nights. You buried yourself further into the crowd, eventually ending up in the kitchen.

With a deep breath, you poured yourself another drink, only for your annoyance to return once someone so carelessly bumped into you, your beer spilling over your hand. “Watch where you’re-“

“Oh sorry- well hello,” the tone of the stranger changed once his eyes landed on you, feeling your brows soften as quickly as they had creased once you got a look at his magnificent, blue eyes.

“Hi,” you breathed, your tone matching his delight to some degree.

Whoever this guy was, he was painfully gorgeous with striking features which were incomparable to anything you’d ever seen before. And right now, he was eying you with lustful intent, something you did not mind at all. Maybe this was exactly what you needed tonight.

“Lucky I am to crash into a pretty thing like you,” he nearly purred into your ear, hand finding your waist in a possessive grip to pull you closer to hear him better, his white wisps of hair slightly tickling your cheek.

Your own, delicate hand slid up his chest before snaking around his neck to pull him even closer. “Can’t stay too upset about it.” His hot breath brushed your face when he pulled away again, the intoxicating smell of his cologne filling your senses.

“What’s your name?”

The scoff that met you when you told him your name caught you by surprise. What he said next, however, was worse.

“You’re Sukuna’s plaything, aren’t you?”

Pushing yourself off him again to see if there was any signs that this guy was just making a stupid joke, but there was nothing.

A million questions tumbled through your mind — was that what you were known as around campus? Was it Sukuna himself who’d honoured you with the title? What exactly did ‘plaything’ entail? Would this ruin your chance for any potential matches because that was all you would ever be perceived as?

“Is that what he’s telling people?”

The small chuckle from the guy only deepened your frown. “No, no, he doesn’t really talk about you at all.”

“Then how do you know about Sukuna and I?”

“Just because he doesn’t mention you, your escapades aren’t exactly secret.” You wanted to punch something — you wanted to punch him, send a right hook right into Sukuna’s jaw, the image of him floating around in your head. “People just know to stay away from you.” A huff of genuine and true disbelief slipped out of you, pinching your eyes shut as the alcohol did wonders to escalate your frustration with the speed of light. “And he has this look.”

“A look?” You sighed, narrowing your eyebrows as you met his gaze again, suddenly aware that his hand was still on your waist, showing no indication that he had any plans of letting go despite the evident tension in your frame.

He licked his lips, amusement painting his face as his eyes flicked towards your lips. “He clearly doesn’t like it when someone else shows an interest.”

To think you’d given Sukuna the time of day, daring to lure you in with faint insights to a vulnerable side that you had been charmed by, only for it to disappear into nothingness, never to be mentioned again. Then, he had the audacity to throw the most vulgar insults right to your face, as if you weren’t standing right in front of him, bawling your eyes out — and now you were being told that he still acted as if he had a form of ownership over you.

“Asshole,” you mumbled mostly to yourself. “Well,” turning your full attention to him again. “So, are you like his friend or something?” He laughed instantly.

“Nah, not even close.” He began to lean closer, feeling his satisfied grin on his lips as they gently brushed against yours.

With the sensation of feeling someone else’s lips against yours after all those weeks, you let out a breath of relief, the tension slowly seeping out of your body when the stranger still held onto you with a gentle longing.

His lips were soft, moving in a smooth rhythm with your own, causing a small whimper to escape you. He broke away, the chuckle chiming in your ears again.

“Over a little kiss?” He teased, hand still on your cheek while his thumb traveled across your cheekbone.

“Shut up,” you giggled, stretching up on your toes to kiss him again, this time with more hunger, fingers carefully tugging at his shirt. He happily indulged in the action, as his tongue swifly ran along your bottom lip before parting them — only to be abruptly jerked away just as things were about to get good, as you were finally reunited with a tingling you’d so dearly missed.

Both of you stared towards the source of the disruption, a strong and veiny hand placed on his shoulder. You shouldn’t be too surprised to see it was Sukuna who had interrupted your heated session, but that didn’t stop you from staring daggers at him, with the right corner of his mouth forced into a smile.

“Gojo! Figured this is the situation I’d find you,” Sukuna said, purposely keeping his eyes away from you.

The stranger, now suddenly titled with the name Gojo, stuck his tongue against the inside of his cheek, just as unamused as you were. “Always such a pleasure.”

“Didn’t know you two were friends,” the way the last word left him was drenched in disgust, his hand moving from Gojo’s shoulder to stuff them both in the pockets of his pants.

“Just leave, Sukuna,” you interjected, but he ignored you completely.

“We just met.” Gojo was so lighthearted in his speech, suddenly presenting himself entirely unbothered by Sukuna’s appearance.

“Looked rather friendly from where I stood.”

“Careful Sukuna, one might start to think you’re jealous.” One could hear the smirk in his voice, while Sukuna’s jaw clenched at his small but effective jab.

That’s when he finally turned his head to look at you, meeting your hard scowl. His expression matched yours, every muscle in his face that could be tightened was.

Heart raising, breath quickening, Gojo’s hand still tight on your waist, eyes staring into Sukuna’s — so many factors fuelling the fire in your body, slowly having you shifting your weight from one foot to another in a nervous haze.

“Could I get two words with you?” His demeanour was still showing no signs of compassion, which made it hard to believe the hint of softness you thought you heard in his voice was real.

“Not interested.”

“Don’t be like that,” Sukuna groaned cruelly, any evidence of softness gone.

“Like what, exactly?” You challenged, daring him to call you the words that you knew were resting on his mind.

His anger grew stronger, pinching the bridge of his nose as he breathed your name — a shiver shot through your body, the way his rough speech carried your name still had you weak.

“Listen, you heard her. Just leave,” Gojo said calmly, though the taunt was still heard. You didn’t know if he did it because he had some personal vendetta against Sukuna, or if this was how he was and he just couldn’t help it. Either way, it caused Sukuna to snap at him.

“Why don’t you stay the fuck out of it?”

The white haired guy at your side seemed to fight back a laugh as he stared down Sukuna, not at all intimidated. Nonetheless, his hand disappeared from its spot at your curve, turning your head towards him at the loss of his tender and surprisingly comfortable grip.

Was Sukuna really going to take this away from you as well? Ruin yet another evening you had desperately clung onto in hopes it would provide a good time, something you had wished for ever since you stood in a puddle of your own tears three weeks ago?

“You know, Sukuna,” Gojo trailed off confidently, “with a tongue as sharp as yours, one day one of these pretty girls will slap you across the face and I’ll be in the front row, enjoying the show.” Before Sukuna had time to fire any kind of snarky comeback, Gojo had already turned to face you. “I don’t think tonight’s the night, sweetheart. But I’m sure I’ll see you around.” His charming smile lingered as a bitter goodbye before he turned on his heel to rejoin the party as if nothing had happened at all, utterly unfazed by his little confrontation with Sukuna.

You let your disappointed gaze follow Gojo as he disappeared into the crowd, any request to get him to stay dying before they reached past your lips.

Facing Sukuna again, his shoulders were high but seemed more at peace now that the two of you were left alone, though surrounded by drunk students in every corner — but they didn’t concern you at all.

You were focusing all your willpower not to fulfil Gojo’s prophecy already, knowing it would lose all its power if you folded to the aggression already.

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” you nearly spat in his face, desperate to get as far away from him as possible. There was not an ounce of worry to spare any of his feelings anymore, as you let your shoulder crash into him when you attempted to escape from his vicinity.

It was probably naive to believe he’d let you go that easily, head falling back in frustration before he grabbed your wrist. The action of his clutch circling your wrist probably looked a lot worse than it was, as his grip was surprisingly more tender than you expected it to be.

But you instantly pulled your hand to yourself before you had much time to reflect over the fact. “Don’t touch me! I told you to stay away from me.”

You continued to bully your way through the crowd, Sukuna following the narrow path you created while trying to get your attention. It wasn’t until you stepped into the less crowded front lawn that you stopped dead in your tracks, spinning around to meet him with fire in your eyes.

“Isn’t my friend waiting for you inside? Shame to let her wait for so long.” Every word was venomous, earning you a mean scoff.

“Like I care.”

“Certainly seemed like you cared very much about her not half an hour ago,” you said, crossing your arms angrily over your chest.

He couldn’t help the self satisfied grin that was planted on his face by your poorly hidden jealousy. “So much for being ‘definitely over’, as you put it so nicely.”

“Spare me!” You growled, taking a step closer as he had you filled to the rim with agitation. “At least I didn’t let my jealousy get the best of me and interrupt your little make out session!”

Of course he’d ignore your call out of his jealousy, latching onto how you basically confessed you had in fact felt a sting at the scene he’d displayed so graciously a few feet from you earlier that night.

“Knew it got a rise out of you-“

“The audacity you have to tease me about this, after you so rudely interrupted Gojo and I!” Your voice had gotten significantly louder, having the people closest to you peak a curious ear — this was, after all, Sukuna engaging in a shouting match with a girl for everyone to witness.

“Were you going to sleep with him?” The innocent question he asked nearly had you feel sympathy. His hands were removed from his pockets, tense at his side.

“Maybe I was, and so what?” He seemed a little taken aback by how in-your-face you stayed when he had let his true feelings shine through in his words. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business!”

“But Gojo? Come on,” he scoffed.

“Sukuna,” calling his name interrupted how his antsy gaze traveled your surroundings, drawing them directly towards you. “You are truly embarrassing yourself by acting this way!”

“Excuse me?” Towering over you, he took offence to your statement despite knowing damn well it was true.

“You want me to recall the events? Because I most certainly will! Maybe call over your friends and they can hear all about how you showed up outside my window, drunk out of your mind, begging me to let you in!”

Being a half decent human being, you felt a small twinge of guilt, especially when you saw how his eyes frantically roamed your face while his limps grew tense.

“But I’m the jealous one, for not wanting to see you and my so-called friend macking on each other!” He’d never heard your tone so full of pure sarcasm, and it had him nearly speechless. He wanted to defend himself, which he’d never had any problem with before. “Go back to her! Another name to add to your list! I can only imagine how much it’s grown since we last talked!”

He liked his lips in frustration before opening his mouth. “I haven’t slept with anyone since that night!”

“Please,” you scoffed with an aggressive roll of the eyes. “Like I’m supposed to believe that!”

“I’m not fucking lying,” his voice raised, matching yours.

A deep sigh left your lungs. “Fine, you’re not lying! How noble of you! I’m proud, I must say. Finally managed to keep it in your pants for three whole weeks.”

“I think you’re being a tad bit unreasonable here!” He said with a low voice, carefully leaning closer in an attempt to save what privacy the conversation might have left.

“Want a gold star for not catching chlamydia yet? A pat on the back?” You taunted, taking another step closer, ignoring his unfair sentence as you restrained your arms across your chest not to pound weak fists against his chest.

God, yet again he had the tears prickling in the corner of your eyes. After everything, you should have been able to distance yourself from him. When he had you this fragile, you gave him power you wished he didn’t have over you — you were scared he fed off of it.

But there was a storm raging inside him as well, struggling to contain all the intense feelings that were burning inside him, actively fighting the urge to physically reach out for you.

Previously, he’d had no issue strangling that tiny voice in the back of his mind that told him to surrender to his gentle side, despite it always being audible when he was around you.

But the time spent separated from you had intensified that voice, now yelling at him to let his fingers dry your tears, to kiss your puffy, red cheeks, pull your smaller frame into his embrace to comfort you — all actions that were highly unnatural to him, yet he so badly wanted to feel your trembling cries calm against his body.

“What is it that you want from me?” You pleaded, stifling the sniffles.

“I want-“ your glossy eyes interrogated him, threatening him to spill the confession he was too scared to put into actual words. “Let’s just head back to your place.” The wide eyed stare you gave him made him realise just how badly he had phrased it. He simply wanted to go back to your dorm, which had such a comfortable atmosphere, and you could continue the conversation under four eyes.

You huffed in disbelief. “When I thought you couldn’t sink any fucking lower. You think so little of me that you’d think I’d actually want to sleep with you?”

“Shit,” he groaned quietly while you were still talking, panic starting to take over him. “That’s not what I meant.” Every word came out rushed, like he was trying to save his own skin more than anything.

“You’re disgust me! Do you have no tact?!”

Your arms tightened even more around yourself in a failed effort to contain your low sobs. He still managed to disappoint you, despite the fact that you had learned it was best to have zero expectations of him.

“Give me some slack, I’m trying here!” He said desperately, the frustration he tried to suppress seeping through the huge cracks he had created in his own image. It earned him another taunting laugh.

“Slack? Really? After you called me a slut, a whore, crazy, and clingy, I’m supposed to give you some slack?!” You exclaimed, the tears wetting your cheeks.

He dared let some of his urges steer his body closer to you, but his hand stopped an inch before it made contact with your bare arm, feeling your warmth radiating against his hovering palm.

You didn’t flinch, didn’t back away. You just held his gaze, challenging him to cross the line and actually let his hand touch you, as if it would help him plead his case — but you never even felt a single graze of his skin against you.

Letting your eyes flitter over his shoulder, you spotted a generous audience of his friends in the window having turned their attention towards your confrontation as it had quickly increased in volume.

“Damn,” you breathed in faux disappointment. “Your friends are watching. But don’t worry, you haven’t blown your perfect reputation of being a coldhearted piece of shit.”

Waiting for another second, you gave him one last chance to just give in, pretending that if he actually touched your arm, he would be able to prove something to you.

But you knew you needed more. You wanted him to confess the things his eyes exposed, in spite of how closed off his entire demeanour was. You knew your suspicions couldn't be completely made up from the depths of your mind, that he must have done something to, at the very least, plant the seed for the thoughts that had rummaged your mind.

Staring into his eyes, you remembered all those nights shared in secret, and how pathetic you felt for missing them — yearning for them.

“I didn’t want this,” he burst out, eyebrows narrowing to enhance his anger, though he did not manage to let go of the softness in his eyes. “You’re a real pain in my neck. Fuck, if I could erase you from my memory, you bet your sweet ass I would!”

You could not form any coherent thoughts about where he could possibly go with this speech, only sensing he was going to spill yet another string of dumb and meaningless words that showed no reflection over the situation whatsoever.

“You’re a plague. A god damn sickness, and I cannot get rid of you!”

“Nice one, Sukuna. I’ll add that to the list of all the horrible things you’ve called me.”

“Don’t try to twist my words, you know what I’m trying to say!”

Placing a pointy finger at the centre of his chest, he felt the pressure of your dig but kept his eyes locked on your sad face. “They say it!”

“What?”

“Stop beating around the bush, and say what’s on your mind. Go on,” you challenged, his chest heaving violently as he tried to remain calm to some degree. “You know exactly what I’m getting at. There’s a reason you reacted the way you did that night, and there’s a reason you could not stand to see me with Gojo. So say it — loud and clear!”

He leaned in even further, feeling his hot and angry breath brush against your nose. His mouth opened, every confession resting at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say it, to tell you what you wanted to hear, but his mouth closed as quickly as it had opened.

Déjà Vu overcame you when you placed the palms of your hands against his chest and used all your strength to increase the distance between you.

“You’re a fucking coward!” A loud sob fell from your lips when he once again spoke your name, nearly causing your jelly knees to collapse under you. “Go back in there! Enjoy your evening! Get your dick sucked, I don’t care as long as I don’t have to look at your face!” You gestured towards the house behind him.

Without another word, your cries continued as you turned your back to him and started to walk away, blocking out how he called your name.

For what felt like hours, Sukuna stood in that exact same spot and watched as your figure slowly disappeared down the dark street. There was not a single calm cell in his body, so wrapped up in his pointless train of thought he didn’t even notice he’d been approached by one of his friends until he placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Sukuna-“

“Get your fucking hand off me,” Sukuna growled, instantly shrugging off the gesture that had been one of genuine consideration.

His feet started to carry him down the street in the opposite direction you had, blatantly ignoring his friend’s attempt in catching his attention — a lot like you had with him.

His spiralling mind made no sense, all the thoughts blending into one deafening noise where he couldn’t make out a single thing — except the one clear image of you that stuck out. And his only worry was that he had no clue when or if he’d ever see you again.

It’s been a long time coming, but Sukuna’s attitude has finally come to bite him in the ass.

This time around, he hadn’t been as fortune to have the option to let his dramatics disappear into the back of his mind, as there had been a row of nosy audience who’d witnessed the entire thing play out right outside that crowded party.

Rumours spread like wildfire, and of course everyone and their mother had an opinion on the matter. If Sukuna didn’t know any better, he would think he was back in high school by the way people were talking about him. When he entered a room filled with peers from his faculty, both his and your name followed him like a shadow.

Just a few days after the party, he’d picked up on someone indulging in cheap gossip when he passed their table. “That’s that Sukuna guy, from the party right off campus!” The guy said in a poorly concealed whisper.

“That’s the guy? She really went for him?” The other guy me responded.

Their not-so-secret conversation was abruptly cut short when Sukuna slapped a strong hand on the back of the first guy who talked. “Ever heard about keeping your nose out of other people’s shit?” It sounded close to a threat, straining out through gritted teeth.

That was not the first nor the last time Sukuna overheard someone talk about the incident, most people vouching in your favour — obviously.

Even his friends seemed to lean in your direction. They never said it straight out, but they made it clear enough every time they even dared to give their two cents about the situation.

One evening, despite feeling more in the mood to just walk around town and mope, they convinced him to join the gang for a beers and pizza. It took only an hour before they cracked and brought you up. “Why didn’t you tell us you were dating?”

Sukuna had instantly shot him a death glare, his leg slowly starting to bounce. “The fuck are you talking about?” A small snicker traveled the group.

“Come on, man. You and whatever her name is. I thought the two of you were only fucking.”

“We were only fucking,” he confirmed, instantly bringing the glass bottle to his lips for a big swig.

“Your little lover’s quarrel last Saturday says otherwise.” Sukuna’s agitation only escalated by their annoying teasing, which had him completely ignore their underlying concern for him, visible to anyone but him in the looks they all shared — the teasing was just the only way they saw it possible to approach this topic.

“Funny,” he deadpanned.

“If you wanna talk about it-“ their attempt of companionship was quickly shut down when he quickly got on his feet.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he groaned, and stormed out of the apartment without another word. He wasn’t going to sit there and endure their lame comments, concealing how they just wanted him to confront his issues regrading you.

Walking down the dark street, he lit himself a cigarette and pulled out his phone, shame not being able to stop the bad habit he had developed of relentlessly stalking your socials.

It was absolutely pointless, because you hadn’t posted anything new since before you threw him out. If anything, he just felt even more pathetic as he found himself just looking at your old posts.

He realised how many of your small details he had picked up, like how your eyes creased when you smiled or how you tended to hide your face when you were genuinely laughing — all traits he found himself missing, and cursing himself for not fully letting himself enjoy when he experienced it first hand.

But it wasn’t just online you had gone awol. Sukuna had started to think you might have dropped out because you were nowhere to be seen. You didn’t even tag along with your crowd, your usual seat always left empty.

The reason for that chair staying unoccupied for the most part, was because you had taken extensive steps in order remain a stranger. You thought that not having to see his face, even if it was for just a split second in passing, the whole thing would eventually just blow over until it didn’t cause you any pain.

Easier said than done.

Much like Sukuna, you were more than aware that everyone knew. As much as you tried to reach within yourself for some zen in order to turn the other cheek, you couldn’t stop how people paid you a pitying gaze whenever they talked to you.

It didn’t help the process of trying to heal from the pain that had set root in you so deeply. Had you known how badly being entangled with him would end, you would probably have thought twice about accepting his advances.

And somehow, despite it all, every word, every touch and every confrontation, you missed him.

It wasn’t until you experienced the absence of his presence, you realised how much value you had put into the part he had come to play in your life. Somewhere along the journey, you had both nurtured your relation without even knowing it, to the point where it had started to mean something — and that was why it wouldn’t stop agonising you.

However, this was Ryomen Sukuna we were talking about. It was a waste of time to hope he could ever reach that level of reflection. He had already caved once. Chances he’d do it again were slim to none, enjoying his view from his high horse too much to sacrifice it for some girl he’d replace eventually.

No, staying out of his way until you managed to demote him to nothing but a cautionary tale was the way to go.

“How the hell did you get into the building?” The question came out a lot sharper than intended, but the shock of having Sukuna standing in your doorway, sporting his famous frown, shaped your tone.

“Your neighbour’s is kind of a pussy,” was the only explanation he gave you, which could mean anything.

Your breathing became uneasy, not having seen his face in person for nearly three weeks. Same tufts of messy hair, his tattoos peaking up out of his shirt and up his neck, hands stuffed in his pockets like always.

“Not interested,” you mumbled, rushing to close the door in his face. But a loud thud interrupted the action, Sukuna having smoothly placed his foot between the crack.

“Let’s just have a civil conversation,” he insisted.

With a frustrated sigh, you creaked the door open again, resting your hand on your hip. “Five minutes.”

“Seriously,” he huffed. “You’re really going to be difficult right now?” You simply raised your eyebrows at his familiar, cold tone.

“You’re the one showing up unannounced.”

He cleared his throat, the sound of your voice reminding him why he had actually come to see you. “Sorry,” he forced out, and you could actually hear how he put a hint of honesty into it. “But I think five minutes isn’t going to be enough for all we have to talk about.”

“You’re just assuming I’m willing to talk,” you pointed out.

There was a small spark inside, screaming for you to just surrender to him. Let him take the stage and explain whatever he had on his chest so you wouldn’t have to have another lonely night. All the fantasies of him reaching out had kept you company, and maybe you had manifested him into standing in front of you right now.

That didn’t change the fact that it would be nothing but unfair to yourself to give in to the first sprinkle of reunion.

You watched him physically restrain the reactive groan in his throat. “I would like to apologise for my behaviour,” he spoke slowly, almost as if he was reading it up from a script. You couldn’t stop how it caused you to sigh again, impatiently knitting your arms in front of you to see if he was going anywhere with this. “Can I please come in?”

Slowly your muscles started to grow fidgety while his eyes bore into you, his voice carrying in an uncharacteristic, delicate tune. After a moment of silence, weighing your options, you slowly nodded your head yes and stepped aside to let him inside.

“You rearranged,” was the first thing he said when he entered, eyes roaming your room, none of your furniture sat in the place they used to be. But what actually caught his eye was how he couldn’t spot any of his tokens hidden away in the corners anymore.

He turned around to face you when he heard another sigh from you. “If you’re gonna talk, then talk.”

“I should never have called you those things, and I apologise.” The way the words came out of his mouth told you he must to have practiced exactly what to say, reciting word for word.

“Thank you,” you said coldly.

“And I’m sorry for how I treated you at the party.”

He hated how quiet you were, simply having your eyes travel his face as he was waltzing way out of his own comfort zone. He knew you could tell, evident in every joint of his body that he was about to beg you to put him out of his misery.

“Fuck, stop looking at me like that,” he grumbled, having to turn his head to break your intense and investigative stare. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

You scoffed, not entirely surprised he would somehow end up loading some responsibility on your shoulders even though he was the one who had put you both in this situation. “Sukuna, you called me a sickness!”

“Yes, I did, because you are!” He snapped, flaming eyes back on you in a heartbeat, catching you off guard. “You have grown stuck in my head, and I can’t get you off my damn mind no matter how fucking hard I try!”

“But that’s not my fault!” You responded sternly, wanting to keep from screaming.

“I know, but it’s not like I planned for this to happen. I just wanted to have fun with you for one fucking night, and then I thought a second night wouldn’t hurt. Clearly it did, because I-“ he let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his hand through his hair. “Fucking hell,” he breathed quietly.

He began to reminisce about the evening he had decided to go home with you a second time. That wasn’t his MO, usually. Once he’d had his way with a girl, he went on to pretend they didn’t exist.

You hadn’t done anything in particular the first time around to make him pursue you again. He was simply bored and no one else caught his eyes — he also knew you could provide one hell of a night.

It didn’t take a lot of convincing on his part, quickly heading back to your dorm again after he had approached you.

He had you moaning his name and clawing at his back, practically begging for more. And once he was done, he didn’t wait to get up and get dressed.

And in the pitch, black darkness of your room, he had stumbled over what he thought was your backpack, face planting straight for the floor. There was a moment of utter silence as he scrambled back on his feet before he heard the most melodic sound of your laughter.

“Did you just fall?”

He was so thankful it was dark so you weren’t able to see the embarrassment lightly flush his cheeks.

“Shut up,” he mumbled as he twisted the doorknob.

He still heard your small giggle seep through the crack as he exited — and that was exactly what had lured him in. His subconscious didn’t need anything more than that sweet sound to be hypnotised. He didn’t even have any control over it, as it brought him right back to you for many more nights.

“Because you what?” You challenged, bringing him back to the moment by capturing his eyes, forcing him to keep them on you.

“I don’t know,” a low grumble, feeling how he wanted so badly to peer his eyes off you, looking anywhere but your face.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” you huffed. “After calling me a crazy slut, you lost that privilege. So whatever it was you came here to tell me, say it with your god damn chest.”

He licked his teeth in frustration, so conflicted in how to feel about that sharp tongue of yours. Normally Sukuna would not accept the type of attitude you served him from anyone. But whenever it was you who matched his energy, he always felt himself drawn further in — despite also finding it extremely insufferable.

“The reason I hit on your friend wasn’t necessarily to make you jealous-“

“How big of you,” you cut him off, and it was his turn to scoff.

“Let me finish,” slightly raising his voice. While your frown remained, you sealed your lips shut to keep any further snarky outbursts from interrupting him. “It was yet another desperate attempt to get you out of my head. She just looked like she would be down for it. And then I saw you with Gojo. Fuck, it made me sick!”

The disgust was clear as day, soaking every word as they came out. Whatever his relation to Gojo was prior to that night, it became clear that seeing him with you triggered him to lose any restraints of decency he might have possessed that evening.

“It pissed me off, and I couldn’t just watch.”

“You could have gone home-”

“Like hell I could!” Before you even had the chance to finish your sentence, he protested. With slow steps, he started to approach you, filling your body with anticipation.

Still missing his touch as much as you had the entire time apart, it took immense self control not to give into the desire to feel the firmness of his body again.

His glare bore deep into you, causing realisation to finally set in — feelings you had smothered and never put into words, finally gaining a solid presence in your mind.

“You’re mine. You always have been.”

Instinctively your lungs caught a sharp breath, taking in every detail of his face as his loaded confession slowly sunk in.

Confused — so far past comprehension of what you were feeling. Was this what you’d wanted?

As much as you’d complained about how he acted as he was entitled to you whenever he snaked his dominant arms around your body, his possessiveness had never been something to turn you away. These were the actions that had planted the seed to your every growing relation, sucked in by how he always made you feel desired — but also safe.

His grip on you had never been hard or unpleasant, despite how it might have appeared to every other person outside the two of you. And when his body was pressed up against you as you fell asleep, you knew that night would be a lot more peaceful, just his energy grounding you in a sense of security.

Yet, that feeling shattered that night.

“I’m yours?” Your voice came out weak, tears you were beyond tired of drying, once more welling up along your waterline. “But you can’t be mine, is that it?”

“What?” His tone was a mixture of utter bewilderment and frustration.

“Do you know what your problem is, Sukuna?” A quiet sniffle before you spoke again. “You’re selfish. Too proud to acknowledge anything real.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? Do I need to remind you that I didn’t demand anything other than some slight clarification? I had every right to question what the hell was going on, because there were… unspoken things developed and you just-“ you stopped talking when you had to let out a shaky breath, letting the tears roll calmly down your cheeks.

Something he had learned since getting to know you, was just how much he disliked seeing you cry. What was worse, was how he was the one who so easily brought them to the surface.

Would it be wrong to reach out, let his rough hands dry them away?

Against his better judgement, he lifted his hand to graze your soft cheeks — only for you to instantly swat his hand away.

“No, you don’t get to do that!” You snapped, your sorrow painting every word. “You think you can march in here and just acknowledge some responsibility and think that’s good enough? You want to go back to spending your nights here while stringing me along?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he couldn’t help but let his voice raise to match yours, his message grasping on desperation.

“Then what is it you’re saying?” You pleaded, hands gesturing in front of you with built up despair. “What do you want? A relationship?” Once the word was out there, a taunting chuckle followed. “That’s not you.”

“Maybe it can be!”

Your hands curled into fists, all your emotions spilling into your fingers digging into your palms, hoping the action would wake you up, because there was no way Sukuna was actually standing in front of you saying he was considering a relationship.

“You piece of shit,” your voice cracked. “That’s not fucking funny.”

“Give me some credit, I’m not saying it to be funny!”

“Right-“ you were once again cut off by a violent sob. He knew he couldn’t blame you for being reluctant. He hadn’t done anything to deserve your understanding nature, but he still felt his anger being nurtured when it seemed he was getting nowhere, despite blotting himself unlike he’d never done before.

“Look, I-“ why was this so hard? He knew what he wanted to say, but all the words knotted themself before he had the chance to put them out into the world. “It has felt wrong. These past few weeks, not sleeping here, not being able to let people know who you really belonged to, in general not having you around has not felt right.”

Choking back your sadness, you were in awe at how vulnerable he was being, never in a million years had you ever thought you’d see the sight.

“I never regret anything, because like you said, I’m selfish. I usually don’t give a shit, except about you.” He finished his speech, a long breath of relief sunk his shoulders, some serenity starting to fill his body even though he wasn’t sure he had secured himself any future involvement with you — at least he had taken the opportunity to unload his shoulders.

For what felt like an eternity, you both let the silence settle, just looking at each other. The atmosphere was filled with every confession of the evening, while your eye contact seemed to convey the things that were yet to be revealed.

But the longer it took for you to respond, the more uneasy Sukuna became. He might have made a mistake by exposing himself, willingly giving you all the power-

“You’re really fucking stupid, you know that right?” He tilted his head, surprised to hear your tone had calmed down, the tiniest peak at the corner of your swollen lips.

“That thought has crossed my mind a few times lately,” he dared dip his toe in the changed energy, playing along with the bounce in your voice he had wished to hear again for so long.

You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, shaking your head like it would help sorting all your thoughts. The silence returned, and though it was more comfortable than before, the atmosphere had turned a little awkward. Overly aware of your own body, how puffy your face was from once again bawling out in front of him, slowly shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“Do I dare ask what the deal is now?”

He snorted instantly at your little question. “Funny,” he smirked. You only quirked an eyebrow as your nose crinkled with another quiet sniffle. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Think you kind of owe me,” you shrugged.

He picked up on the courages hint of playfulness, satisfaction returning to him as he was reunited with the silly banter he wouldn’t take for granted again. “You’re kind of a brat, you know that right?”

A tiny giggle played on your lips. “I’ve been called worse.”

“I did miss you.”

“Me too,” you whispered to his soft confession, a lot of the pent up stress from all those weeks beginning to finally drain out of you. “Sukuna?”

“Mhmm?”

“Will you stay here tonight?”

The familiar smug grin came to show. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

tags @sad-darksoul

a/n it's finally here. it's done. it's over... and i'm actually a little proud. like i kinda like it ngl... i just hope it doesn't flop bc it took me sooo long to write holy shit. but it's not hovering over me anymore so enjoy — so excited to see how it’s recived, bc i’m going to bed bc i got work in less than seven hours

likes, comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[whxrecruxxes]

RUFFLED SHEETS - cl16

pairing- charles leclec x fem!reader warning- smutttt ( wrap it before you tap it pooks) , dirty words (frenchie french) porn with no plot :) lowk reader's first time riding ??? idk yall does that count genre- established relationship summary- missing charles when he's away is a recurrent feeling. question is, what happens when he comes home to find you in his shirt ? this is not proofread sorry for any mistakes english is not my first language les copains :)

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · keep reading !! · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

It was no surprise that you were alone for yet another weekend. Not that you minded it, it felt nice to be alone sometimes. But you had to admit, spending the weekend with Charles was always more fun than watching him spend his weekend without you on the TV.

You were sat on your couch, the blanket draped over your knees, your eyes heavy with sleep, Charles shirt heavy on your shoulders. Miami was always the toughest race for you to keep up with, seeing as though the time difference with Monaco was always so huge. But you stuck through, and in the end it was worth it, because you got to see Lando cross the line first for the first time in his career, and you got to see your boyfriend bring it home third. From the look on his face, you could tell he was happy for Lando, but that p3 was not the result he was expecting- nor hoping for. You shot Lando a quick congrats text, who responded with a flurry of misspelled, clearly drunken texts of different variations of the words "thank you, love you, wish you could've been there" instead reading "tjanl yio, lobe yiu, qisj yio xouldvr beem tjete". It took you a while to decipher it, but when you finally did, it brought a soft smile to your face. It was obvious the young boy you had gotten close to had not even waited a minute after that podium to go out with his friends and celebrate. Your phone buzzes by your side as you yawn, cracking your neck. You pick our phone up and squint your tired eyes at the screen.

"I'll be home by tomorrow night, ma chérie. Je t'aime, fait de beaux rèves." I love you, sweet dreams. You read out loud, rubbing your eyes. You got up from the couch and switched the tv off and ventured into your room, craving the comfort of your bed. Charles's shirt reached far enough down to the middle of your thighs, so you had assumed when you slipped it on hours ago (after remembering he had left his signature red shirt here as he didn't need it because of the blue shirts for miami) that you didn't need shorts, and now was no different, so you simply slid into bed and cuddled yourself into your pillow and letting yourself succumb into sleep.

When Charles walks in, almost twelve hours early because he was planning on surprising you by getting the first flight home, the sun hadn't even gone up yet. The apartment is quiet when he steps in, and he expected you to be asleep on the couch, still watching the TV. He's confused when he doesn't spot you, dropping his bags by the doorway and venturing further into the apartment, and when he finally reaches the room, he carefully pries it open. The moonlight is gushing in through the windows, illuminating your body. Your hair is sprawled over your back, your shoulders rising softly in sleep. Charles smiles at your sleeping state, quickly, ridding himself of any airport sullied clothes and slipping in next to you, his chest bare, sweatpants hanging low on his waist. At the sudden dip of the mattress beside you, you jolt awake, turning to face him.

The look on your face makes his heart melt.

You look so tired, but so happy to see him. Your eyes light up, and he practically melts into your touch as your hands find his cheeks and you sling a thigh over his middle, humming softly as his arms bunch up around your waist.

"Hi, mon amour. Surprise." He whispers, kissing his aw down your jaw. You push at his back with your heel, humming softly.

"Charlie ? I missed you." You mutter, burying your hands in those soft brown curls of his.

"I caught the first flight back. Needed to see my girl." He says, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He grimaces, his nose scrunching as he notices an odd smell on your body. His cologne, mixed with sweat and another mixture of things that you like about his scent. He frowns.

"Why do you smell like me ?" He asks, his voice soft against your ears. He softly pulls away from you, the darkness in the room making him squint. He turns on the bedside light, sending the slightest glow emmenating around the room, and finally illuminating your body. The sheets have bunched up near the apex of your thighs, revealing the soft black material of your lingerie and finally his shirt, resting on your shoulders. His number, splayed over your chest, the fabric stretching in a heavenly way around your breasts.

Charles heard his breath catch in the back of his throat. Sleepy and craving to hide your eyes from the light, you whimper and shift from side to side, the shirt hiking up to reveal he ruffled hem of the lingerie resting on your hips.

"I missed you." You repeat again as an answer, humming as you closed your eyes.

"Putain." Fuck. He mutters, gulping heavily. "Is that- Are you wearing my shirt ?" This makes your eyes open. There was so something to primal in his eyes. Seeing you in his shirt, proudly wearing his humber, knowing you were probably cheering him on and seeing the way the fabric of the shirt stretch over his favorite part of you- stroked something deep within him, ever ounce of blood leaving his head to rush between his legs.

"Do you not like it ? I can take it off." You whispered. The ferrari red brought out your flushed complexion, and Charles felt his pants grow uncomfortably tight.

"I'f i'd have known you were waiting for me here, like this.." His finger finds the apex of the your thighs, slipping his finger between the tiny gap, stroking the soft, subtle skin. "I would've come home earlier." He mutters, and you smile at him softly.

"If you hadn't left, you could've had seen me like this all weekend." You mutter, although you know he could never stop racing. He smiles teasingly at you, rolling his eyes. You sit up, the shirt falling down to your thighs, yawning.

"I need the bathroom. Be right back, baby." You breathe out, getting to your feet after pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His jaw almost drops, and the tightness in his pants grows. The number and red on your body seems to be made for you, and Charles has to bite back a primitive growl. When you emerge from the bathroom, the heavy lidded look of your eyes looks like you've been fucked out, and Charles sits up fully. You sit in front of him, kneeling at the foot of the bed as you tuck your hair behind your ears.

"You did really good today. P3." You say, smiling softly at him. He simply just nods, his chest heaving. You frown at his lack of answer, not noticing his eyes glue to your chest, to his number on your body. It's like he's finally staked his claim to you, and it makes his heart swell. You smile confusedly at his dazed expression.

"Charlie ? Are you okay ?" You ask, leaning forward, your arms pressing your breasts together. He gulps heavily, holding his hand out for you.

"Lemme look at you." You slide over, expecting him to be all soft and cute like he usually is when he's sleepy, but boy were you wrong. He guides you over his lap, forcing you down to straddle it as he inspects you.

"Fucking hell. You look hot in red. Why have you never worn this before ?" He asks, running his calloused hands over your thighs, the cold of his rings burning your skin.

"Because you're always wearing it ?" You reply teasingly, fingers mindlessly drawing out the sahpe of his abs and muscles.

"Ma belle fille.." My pretty girl. You blush furiously, smiling softly as he traces the apex of your thighs with his hands. You rub your eyes tiredly, craving to cuddle into him and sleep, but the way he's looking up at you, his hands grasping you tight, it makes a rumble start up in your stomach. He's looking at you like a man starved. I mean it's not as if he's never seen you wear red. But something about you, in his shirt, makes him hungry.

"Why ? Do you like it ?" You counter his question, giggling softly. His eyes almost bulge out of his head.

"Like it ? Amour, I love it. You are never taking this off. " You smile softly, cocking a questioning eyebrow.

"Never ? Don't you have to wear this in Imola ?" he shakes his head, licking his lips again.

"Were you wearing this when i crossed the finish line ?" He asks, softly swerving your question. You nod, smiling softly. He chuckles, his hands slipping up the shirt and caressing your ribs, his thumbs grazing right along side the underside of your breasts.

"Well then i'll tell Fred we're keeping the blue. You're wearing this at every race weekend from now on- My lucky charm." The words send a blush rising to your cheeks, and he laughs. "Really ? That's what gets you going ? I have worse i can say, bébé." He says, his eyes still trained on his number on the shirt, making you roll your eyes. Charles knew the effect his words had on you, and he was not afraid to use it. Wether in was to rile you up when you two were out with the rest of the grid, or when you were in the privacy of your home or his driver's room.

"And with you on top of me, looking like this.. I have a few ideas." He mutters, before his face dives down to bury itself in your neck, his lips nipping at the sot skin right below your jaw. You bite back a breathy moan as your hand comes flying up to grab his hair, the covers bunched up around both of you. Your hips roll instinctively against his as he continues to suck at your skin, inevitability leaving bright red marks along your jaw and collarbone, sure to mark you for everyone to see- And he was going to make sure everyone would see. You could already see the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out where to mark you so people would know you were his next time you even set foot in the paddock. His hands travel up to fully grasp your breasts, his thumps pinching the pebbled peaks, this time eliciting a whimper from the back of your throat. He smirks against your skin.

"There it is." He whispers, before pulling away from your neck, his hands leaving your breasts, slipping up to cup your cheeks. His lips smash down against yours, catching them in a rough dance, his hands blindly reaching down to push the fabric on your panties to the side, running his finger against your folds. When he's met with the obvious wetness and slick already coating you and spreading across your thighs, and audible groan is heard from your boyfriend, kissing you with a new fervour.

"T'est déjà prête pour moi, hein, ma belle ?" You're already ready for me, huh, pretty girl ? He teases, the accent rolling off his tongue as he pulls away to observe the way your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his thumb pressing down on you clit as two of his fingers stretch you out with no warning. Your hands fly up to grip his bare shoulders at the sudden intrusion, a pained whimper leaving your lips as you bite your full bottom lip between your teeth.

"So wet f'me.. Only for me. Where do you want me, amour ?" He asks, slowly and teasingly kissing your breasts through the shirt. You whimper.

"L-Like this." You manage, gulping down the moans bubbling up your throat as his fingers brush against that spot he knows would make you come undone.

"You want to ride me, bébé ?" He asks, smiling against your skin. You nod frantically, unable to contain the shake in your thighs as his thumb continues to assault your clit.

"Tes mots, ma chérie. Utlise tes mots." Your words, darling. Use your words. He instructs, clearly not wanting to use your fucked out state to his own gain.

That's the thing about Charles.

He may be a huge fucking tease, but he will always double check before dong anything he thinks might hurt you in any way. Especially in these situations, when your need for him would be too overwhelming and your thoughts wouldn't process normally, and sometimes you would say thins you didn't mean just to get him to touch you. So when you notice that twinge of doubt in his eyes as he looks up at you, you gulp down whatever moan or cry of his name was about to emerge and lovingly kiss his cheek, trying your best to keep your orgasm at bay.

"I want to ride you, Charlie." You manage, before his thumb gives your clit another appreciative rub and you crumble, body going slack against his as your body convulses, your walls fluttering around his fingers. He kisses you through the high, letting you ride it out before your hips still and he takes that as his sign. He retracts his fingers from you, lapping them up with his tongue, and you gasp as he smiles.

"You ready for me, mon cœur ?" He asks, softly moving himself underneath you to tug down his sweats. Eagerly, you help him shimmy them off, watching as his cock slaps up against his abdomen. You practically drool, at the sight, and move to take the shirt off. Charles shakes his head, licking his lips.

"No. Don't. Keep it on." He says, a hungry glare in his eyes. Fucking you with his number on him seems to seem more appealing to him than touching your breasts- which is usually his favourite part. But there's something in his eyes that makes it so hard to deny him. So you simply nod and drop your hands back down, softly bunching the shirt up around your waist so he can see what he's doing. His hands find the lace of your underwear again, fully shoving it to the side before softly placing you right above his length. He pushes you down, stopping when your pained whimpers feel the air, your nails digging into his chest.

"Woah, you got it, baby." He breathes, reaching up to brush your hair out of your face. "We can stop if you want to, amour. I don't want you to get hurt." He's barely halfway inside you, and he's already worried about hurting you. You shake your head, letting yourself sink down a little more and wiggle your hips to try and let yourself adjust to his girth, stretching you out from a new angle. He pushes your underwear further to the side, his hands balled around the shirt. When you finally sink down fully, the room is met with synchronized moans from the both of you.

'Fuck, chérie. Taking me so good." He praises as your hips start to instinctively roll above his. HIs hands push up the shirt, so that your stomach is revealed, leaving only the number on your breasts exposed. He groans as the bounce with your every roll, the number jutting out as if to further shove it in his face, that you are his. Your hands are splayed on his chest, gasping as you feel him poke his way into your stomach. He smirks at your desperate whimpers.

"What's wrong, darling ?"

"S'not enough." You whine, your hips stuttering. His hands guide you along, but it doesn't seem enough to push you further towards your edge. His brows furrow in worry. You whimper again, your hands balling into fists above his bare chest.

"Please, Charlie." You whimper, your head thrown back, sweat covering your skin, his hands coming to a still around your hips. His hand reaches around your back and pins your hips down against him. He holds you still, earning a whine of protest from you. he kisses up your chest, shaking his head as you try to roll your hips again.

"Shhh, non mon amour. Bouge pas. Let me take care of you." No my love, don't move. He whispers against your skin, finally letting go of your shirt, the material dropping back down to bunch up around your waist. He holds you still, before thrusting his hips up to meet yours.

"Better ?" He asks, his chest caving with every heavy breath that fills his chest, the only thing edging him on are your desperate whimpers. Your own hips start rolling again, and his head is thrown back, a low groan leaving his lips.

"Ah, fuck. So pretty. So tight. Just f'me." His words bring heat up to your cheeks, feeling his cock brush against that knot of nerves that is yet to be untangled.

"God, Charles." You cry, his hands trailing up and past the shirt to grab your breasts underneath the rough material of his shirt. He palms them, smiling as you whimper once again, leaning into his touch. His hips keep on bucking up to meet your rolls, and he can tell you're already getting close. The urge to have you pinned under him, ready for him, is overwhelming,. With no warning, he twists the two of your around, splaying your thighs open onto the bed, your hands gripping his shoulders in shock. His hips meet yours at a furious, hungry pace.

"God, you drive me crazy." He groans as his lips find your neck and leaves marks atop the already present ones. "Sleeping in my shirt, wearing my number.. it's like you're trying to get me to fuck you." He groans, a slight chuckle leaving his lips. You whimper, your hands digging into his shoulder blades.

"Fuck, i missed you so much." You whimper, tears flying up to your eyes. His hips snap against yours harder at your words, stealing the whimpers from your lips.

"I missed you more, fuck you have no idea. Tu m'a tellemment manqué." I missed you so much. He moans, his hips stuttering. You bite back a moan, your head thrown back as he pushes your thighs further apart, making you whine.

"God, please. Please, Cha, i'm so close." You whimper, gasping for air, the shirt tight around you. He pull back only slightly, gripping your thighs and dragging him closer to you. His hand wraps around your neck to tilt your head up, licking his lips.

"Vas-y, amour." Go ahead, love. "Show me how good i make you feel." His words seem to be the only thing your body obliges to, and your body convulses under him as you come all over him, whimpering loudly as your back arches off the bed. His body falls forward, pushing up your shirt to wrap his full lips around one of your breasts, making you moan loudly as he continues to push himself in and out of you at a steady pace. HIs free hand is still pushing your thigh open and flat on the bed, and he tries to ignore how it shakes and how you cry out in overstimulation as he tries his best to push you to another limit, not wanting to hurt you in his selfish need for release.

"Charlie, please, i can't-" You beg, your body shaking as tears fall past your eyes. He shushes you, pain blooming in his chest at your cries.

"Shh, i know baby, i know. Just one more for me, okay ?" He groans as your walls flutter around him, clearly already primed and ready for another. You nod frantically, feeling the tension build up in you stomach again. You hands drift down to his waist, grabbing it and pushing him towards you.

"Putain de merde." Fucking hell. "You're going to be the death of me, baby." He praises, his hips stuttering.

"Fuck, i'm close, do you want me to-"

"Inside." You gasp, feeling your own orgasm reach you, the third one of the night. The breathy sound of your voice has his toppling and he empties himself inside of you, moaning your name loudly as his eyes flutter closed. You whine as he pushes his shirt back down your chest, the emptiness between your legs evident. He kisses your face, slipping his own boxers on before grabbing a towel from the chair near your bed and baling it up, softly dragging it along your thighs. You whimper, squeezing your thighs together. He brushes your hair away from your eyes, softly shushing you as he spreads your thighs open again and proceeds with cleaning you up.

“Shhh, it’s okay, mom cœur. It’s okay.” He whispers, kissing the tears away. When he finally pushed your underwear back into place, he slides next to you and pulls you into his arms. He kisses your forehead, sighing heavily as you sniffle into his chest.

“I really did miss you.” You mutter, running your hands along his muscles. He smiles, looking down at you.

“I know, bébé. I missed you too. I wish you could’ve been there, cheering for me.” You giggle.

“You know i had to work, Charlie. I would’ve dropped everything to be there if my boss had given me the days off. P3.. That’s a great result.” He grimaces at the praise. You frown.

“What ?”

“P3 is not a great result- it’s just a result.” You sit up, glaring down at him, trying to ignore the pain in your legs.

“Hey.. P3 is a good result. It’s just the beginning, you can only get better from here, and i’m sure you will. I mean P2 in the sprint is already amazing.” You praise, and he smiles.

“See, this is why i need you at races. You’re such a better pep talker than Xavi and all the others.” You roll your eyes and lower yourself down next to him, sighing as you rest your head on his chest.

“If you get me a job, maybe i could be there every weekend.” He laughs, the rumble making your heart soar.

“I’ll see what i can do, amour. Anything to have you there with me.”

The rest of the night is spent laughing and him telling you about his weekend, pure and unfiltered like the TV would show you- and you make a mental note.

If you ever have to spend the weekend away from him again- which wasn’t bound to happen often- you’d make sure to be wearing his shirt when he got home.

[russo-woso]

Omg pls if your taking requests maybe like Leah and y/n being best friends that are secretly in love with each other Leah is out of the closet but y/n is curious and asks Leah to kiss her drunk you can add smut if u feel comfortable if not it’s okay love your writing btw🫶🫶

Years || Leah Williamson

Summary: In which a drunken night out results in you finding the answers to all your questions

Warning questioning of sexuality

You knew you were in love with Leah.

After all, Leah was your best friend. She had been since you were both 14, both of you meeting at a youth England camp.

What you didn’t know, was whether you loved Leah as a friend or if you loved her in a romantic way.

You’d always have thoughts flowing through your mind.

Whether it be Leah kissing you, or you and Leah together as a couple, but you’d always shut them down.

You were confused about yourself.

You shut down them thoughts because you were straight. But were you?

You couldn’t help it though, you were at your happiest when you were with Leah.

She made you smile, she was kind, loving, compassionate, and she was sexy.

What was there not to love about Leah?

So, on a drunken night out celebrating the end of the season, you got the courage to ask something you never in a million year thought you would.

Obviously the alcohol had gotten to you and with the many advantages that came with it, confidence was a key one.

You and Leah had been joined at the hip all night, like you always were.

Wherever you were, Leah was there. Wherever Leah was, you were there.

Whilst on the dance floor, you couldn’t help but look at Leah.

She looked perfect.

“Leah, kiss me.” You blurted out, your confidence shining.

Leah didn’t need to be told twice, placing her lips on yours.

You felt Leah smile into the kiss before breaking away.

“What was that?” She asked, a smile on her face as she rested her hands on your hips.

“I don’t know. But I think I’m in love with you, Le.” You told her, avoiding eye contact with her, scared at what she would say.

“Hey, look at me. I think I’m in love with you too. I have been for years.”

And with that, you initiated another kiss, all emotions from the past years poured into the kiss.

“Be my girlfriend?” Leah questioned, her forehead resting against yours.

“Of course.”

[baldo-poster]

DiJerk Baldo au Drunken 100% vinyles le 3 janvier 2025

[flemingology]

Loving the Leah blurbs! Would you do one where Leah and reader are very drunk, coming home from a night out, and Leah’s very very hungry

midnight munchies ─ leah williamson x reader

warnings: alcohol, quite suggestive at some point, but not too explicit, definitely not smut

wc: 594

a/n: thank you for the request! hope you enjoy it :)

You and Leah stumbled inside after she took way too long trying to find the right key – finally back home after a long night out, and admittedly way too many drinks. You'd gone out to celebrate Arsenal's UWCL qualification and what was supposed to be a couple drinks and some food, turned out into a wild night through the busy streets of London.

"I'm starving", Leah shouted as she plopped down on the couch. She slurred her words, clearly affected by the one too many gin and tonics she consumed tonight. "Turn it down, Le," you said nearly as loud as her.

You threw your bag on the counter and leaned your head down, the cold kitchen tile a welcome feeling against your already throbbing head. "We're gonna-," you got interrupted by a hiccup, much to your girlfriend's amusement. "We're gonna regret this tomorrow," you finally managed.

Leah mustered up nothing more than a hum, getting back up from the couch. She had to stabilize herself against the wall to make sure she didn't fall, before making her way over to the kitchen and circling her arms around your waist from behind.

You slowly turned in her grip – making sure not to move too quick to avoid the headache building quicker – and clasped your hands together behind her neck, pulling her in for a bruising kiss. Leah deepened the kiss right away, as you let out a soft moan when you tasted the alcohol that was still lingering on her tongue. Her hands roamed all over your back and she pulled you tight against her, steadying the both of you against the kitchen counter to make sure you couldn't cause any accidents – neither you nor her trusting your own legs to hold you up.

Leah broke the kiss with a tug at your bottom lip, dipping her head down before starting to kiss up and down your neck. She bit, licked and kissed – if you weren't dizzy yet from the alcohol, you sure would be now. You tangled your hands into her blonde locks, tugging harshly whenever she licked a particularly sensitive spot in your neck. You brought her head back up towards yours and pulled her into another kiss, moaning into her mouth when you felt her knee nudging itself between your legs, making contact with your core.

"Fuck, Leah. Let's go upstairs," you slurred, trying to push the two of you in the direction of the stairs.

The arousal that had been building up steadily suddenly washed away when Leah pulled away from you rather harshly, leaving you confused as to what you said wrong. Her eyes scanned your face and body, suddenly feeling very exposed under the gaze of your girlfriend.

"No. I'm starving," she said matter of factly. You sighed, slouching down against the kitchen wall as Leah opened the fridge, on the hunt for anything that would quell her midnight hunger. You pressed the palms of your hands against your eyes in an attempt to subdue the headache that was forming, already regretting the decisions you had been making that night.

Before long, Leah retreated from the fridge with a tub of ice cream in hand – accompanied with a spoon and a playful glint in her eye. Any suspense that had been building between the two of you now washed away, you grinned at your girlfriend and how silly she looked – clad in a very hot suit, hair sticking out everywhere, droopy eyes that completely gave away her drunken state, now with a goofy grin spread across her face.

"You're a dork." "Your dork, indeed."

[shlutnutt]

In honor of this account’s birthday again (???) here’s a threesome fic lol

—————————————————————————————————————————

Pervy Desires

sum : past hookup; Eddie Munson, refused to let you cum. So someone had to!

steve x eddie x reader threesome smut

w: bartender reader x steve/eddie customers, unprotected sex, spanking, lots of pp print, evbdy is a perv, tipsy intercourse, 2pp bj, name calling(soft & rough), soft dom steve x rough dom eddie x sub reader, humping, deep kissing, oral (mm receiving + f receiving), chatter box Eddie x quieter Steve, choking, orgasm denial, reader having a thing for hands? breast suckiling, cum dumping

The tatted one was a frequent, usually hanging with friends or simply strolling alone for a couple beers and drunken chats. Although not often upfront when it came to it, Eddie purely came in for you. So evident he knew you remembered those pretty hands of his from somewhere; always teasingly looping digits around his cups and bottles, rings clinking within every occasional sip of alcohol he’d savor. Fuck was he a sight to see.

He has flirted with you countless of times before, words you memorized strategically involved unsober confessions as to how he’d love to share you with his best friend. He was too wasted to filter himself so Munson went into explicit description as to how he would fuck you first, would then let his friend get a go, and how finally, they’d both dump their warmths into your mouth. Soft lips of his spurring drunken words that easily had you reminiscing each and every second you sighted, ravaged and soaked him in, system jolting to his presence.

You weren’t much of an angel either though, those hands and tatted arms were the principal of your returning shameful fantasies; the thought of how fitting his fingers would look decorating the hem of your neck right at that instant had you needy to pursue, how pretty would his darkened hair look coated in his earned sweat, he had you craving every ounce of him and he knew so too.

Many more pervy thoughts barged along when you looked to the left of him; there was Eddie’s friend, who you overheard named after Steve. His eyes looked so dangerously warm it made you quirm, already stiff as a board in those pretty worn jeans, perfectly hugging his long cock tight. You only imagined how he’d link his length inside you, wondering just how smooth he’d dance his hips along your own, to have the perfect feel of him fucking you just right. You weren’t sure what it was about him that had you feeling this way but fuck was he just the perfect add-on.

Heavy arms now raised high above his head in stretch, you noticed his shirt looked stylishly torn, crop going undetectable until now. His belly was toned well, pretty lines sculpting the track towards his bulge, you couldn’t contain but to catch a glimpse of the dark trail you hoped you’d see again tonight before he returned to his original stance. He stood now, shifting his hands onto his belt buckle, subconsciously toying around with the material he wore. You knew you’ve had enough, you needed one of them, you needed both.

“Sorry, I’ll get to you guys in a second-

-Hello, Munson boy.”

you bounced back and fourth between customers and acknowledged Eddie, breaking that loud hitch of silence between you two after your last sensual encounter, tone so flirty on the name you almost entirely threw yourself at him. Having you speak to him in that way he so actively remembered from your guys’ adventures immediately had him hooked soulessly. You caught the man drawing a hint of a smirk onto his face, eyes had become darker remembering easily just how to push you past your limit.

“hello, pretty..” he saluted back, hand playfully waving at you, eyes becoming prominent to the attention given.

“Bit crowded tonight, no?” you telepathically spoke to him.

“we’ll be here some time, no rush.” he continued. Eddie quickly found a way into replying to your perverted wishes, making sure you knew he’s in no plan of leaving until the bar emptied just the right amount for him to make you his. Voice grew dark along with his need for you, massive hands reaching into his pocket in search for his used up wallet. Already, eye-counting the number of people left in the way.

“Hello to you too, new guy.” you spoke to his friend now, kindly appreciating them both, making sure he wasn’t left out in the slightest. The nickname brought out a deep chuckle, almost offended that you didn’t just ask him his name.

“Ahh, new guy?” he tempted along with you, trapping your glance right along his,

“Just Steve, bartender lady.” he added amusingly, returning the quirky comedic relief. He made sure you pictured well how massive he looked as he hovered over you carefully, lips so eager to do more, Eddie admiring the play.

Although tempted, you sassily brushed the men off and found your way towards a customer seated towards the far end of the counter.

Steve felt content with the ghost of your presence you having him left with the image of you playfully rolling your dolly eyes at him. He loved the way you toyed around, fully adored how bratty you started with him, he quickly pictured the many ways he can get you to behave for him.

Steve and Eddie both stood and preyed on you while you picked up the leaving customer’s excessive tip, with that, a moist towel to wipe the counter down. You strolled around your area in search for a cleaning product, firm ass hidden away in the airy skirt you wore along with a white button down blouse as uniform, hair kept free.

The men blended in with the crowd and made their ways close to you once more, in hopes of occupying the best seats in the bar with little to no difficulty.

You further cleaned the surface down, spraying liquids onto the counter, the men going unnoticed. You were now almost dancing to the music played, slightly shaking your hips to the beat, gliding your hands left and right across the spot, pretty cleavage decorating your chest.

You caught Steve’s cocky grin along with Eddie’s steady glare, your eyes automatically stuck wandering off lower as they took advantage of the low angle you cleaned in, having their cocks appear far more prominent than necessary. The men both were larger and printed, almost as if they intentionally wore the tightest pants they had in their closets for you.

Tonight, you were sure those two together would cause some trouble, they had you feeling ways in which you couldn’t explain, like they reached into your head and twisted it in ways to fulfill their utmost desires. You were drenched and they haven’t even been in for ten minutes, how they technically flashed their cocks on your face had you sick of hiding it any longer.

“open for two?” voiced Munson, referring to the area you just wiped down, two bar-stools open and available right ahead of your busiest station. His eyes were piercing, attractive, they spoke to you more than his lips did. You accepted, shooting a smile before wiping your hands dry onto your tight blouse, ready for their requests. The men sat, warm toned lamps above each of their heads beautifully lighting them to frame.

“What can I serve you guys with?” you were quick to keep it all professional, avoiding the intense eye contact with the man that could undress you bare now.

“two beers, pretty.” He reached his hand up to view, having you with no choice but to acknowledge him again, single-handedly placing a large bill between his digits and passing it like he was intentionally modeling his ring-filled fingers for you. Taking the bill from his wider hand you noticed a knowing grin on his face to the look you shot him, same knowing look he used to shoot you when he used to tease the shit out of you back to when you two used to shared classes together.

It’d be easy to say that those casual little hookups you had with Eddie all over school grounds back in the day had you recognize him immediately, since the very first day he even stepped into your bar. Pure memories of those times Munson would choke you down onto those firm sleeping trees, bark so pale it’d be easy rip, anomalistically pounding into your cunt like his life depended on it, breathy grunts which’d have you begging him for more. Holding a leg up with an arm, as he’d push the rest of your weight up with his own, Eddie would have you coming repeatedly for him like it was all a game. And god did he love it.

It all came back though; that tightening sensation in the pit of your stomach as you watched him attentively speak with the one handsome companion lying beside him, lips smoothly sharing words you could easily picture as dirty.

You returned to them, lowering the freshly stocked beer bucket infront the men, both attentively observing how you removed each drink from the ice storage they cooled in, noticing how hypnotically their eyes toyed with your breasts.

The bar remained of only a couple of regulars who remained out of view in that large bar you worked at, them usually finding their ways out the door before the clock hit midnight.

“wanna show us around, princess?” interrupted Eddie, lips curving upwards to the flinch you gave when you felt his firm grip find a way towards your lower waist across the booth, so sneakingly holding your body as his. You knew exactly what he meant, of course you followed along,

“Only if I can get both.”

You leaned in and kissed him, warm lips tangling harshly with your own. Eddie groaned to the gesture, rapidly dragging your body across the counter to get it to wrap around his.

You whimpered for him, hands pulling onto the dark tank he wore. He listened and sat you onto the counter, backed away a second to remove the fabric, toned body creeping up to light, messy curls frantically going back to form onto the front of his face. You wanted him and you showed him well, but he quickly showed you he wanted you more.

—

Eddie savagely tore that work skirt you wore, holding the fabric between thick-fingers tearing up to down, this exposing the pretty panties worn beneath them. He carried your weight downstairs to where the break room sat, he kicked away the tables intervening the couches, leaving the area open with just two long parallel couches. Munson then lightly pushed you down onto the sofa, him quickly fastening his way above you, both your hands held down in restraint with a single one of his, rough fingers looped around your wrists stiffly pressing down. He’s got you held down just exactly how he pictured and you loved every thought of that.

“..open your legs for me.” he was firm, voice altered in a way it came out as a demand but used with such praise it had you yearning for him more. Slow hands approached your chest, deep inhales following from the tease. You instantly gave in, lovingly separating your legs for him, wide enough to wrap around his toned back, cunt so tightly tucked away into the panties he’d yank off now if he wanted to. Dark breaths slipped Eddie’s as he felt his crotch gain a chance into pushing deeper into your clothed core, you allowed the tease you felt above your bud and hugged his body tighter, nails sharply decorating the skin.

Although lost in the feeling, you felt your eyes wander off onto Steve, dick rock hard just by watching how Eddie humped himself into you. Free hand toying around with your breasts, mouth tuning right onto your ear; Steve just wished it was him, he fucking wished he was the reason why your mouth remained wide open, thoughtless eyes so needy to be done just right, you watched as he throbbed to the sight. He was tall, shiny waves making him taller, his breath only hitched to the eye contact he dedicated with you. Eyes hadn’t parten yours not once, almost as if he was sending subliminal messages as to what he’d do to you next. He seemed a lot more distant than Eddie would’ve ever been but fuck he had a cock he so proudly wore.

Smiling at the man who twitched in his pants, you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as you began feeling Eddie’s strokes a lot deeper inside you now. How swiftly he replaced the coverage of your panties with the head of his cock had your focus right back onto him.

“you feel so fucking good” you praised in between moans to how firm he fucked your sensitive hole. Eddie was ecstatic above you, tattoos no nicely beginning to gain a smooth coverage from his sweat. Smirking in between wet strokes to how quickly he got you to regain his attention, eyes dark and in complete control over you, he fucked himself into you deeper.

“..isn’t this what you wanted?..” Eddie now continuously slammed his dick far inside you, you felt your legs weaken along with that familiar electricity rushing your veins. Cock tilting upwards to that spot you felt the most pleasure from, you savored the feeling of every inch of his bruising your cervix. Munson continued, “..for my cock to be buried so deep inside you I can’t fuck any further? mhm?” Sadistically, the man mocked your moans as you became a mess beneath him. He was thick, and knew how to use his gift well, thick heartfelt veins glued onto the underside of his cock, soft rounded tip hitting the sweetness of your pussy, you needed him to make you cum.

“…didn’t think we’d notice your pervy little self staring at our cocks all night?...” Eddie messily humped his cock into your warmth now, his eyes tightly shut soaking in every last bit of pleasure. “instead of doin’ her job, this slutty little brat..wanted to drool over two-” Eddie hissed, cutting himself off. ”warm hole..” His breath hitching high at the end of his degradation, teeth grit together as he soon became a grunting monster for you, hair an absolute pretty tangle mixing a nice blend along his reddening cheeks. Eddie grabbed you and held you in-front of him close, still ravishingly belting into your cunt, he lowered his thumb onto your sensitivity bud rubbing perfect-paced circles onto the skin. He stared close into your eyes as he sent you over the edge, fucking you with his thumb and his cock, he knew what he was doing.

“i’m.. i’m-gonna”

“gonna’ what, sweetheart? you gonna’ what?” he lengthened his whiny tone in his last spoken word, toying the shit out of your climax.

Munson made sure he pumped for every single drop of his cum onto your frustrated body first, for him to later on fulfill his desire of dumping his second cum into your mouth. Feeling that explosive feeling approach it’s way through you, weakening you completely as Eddie held your weight, you watched as he fucked into your cunt once more before dangerously pulling away and releasing all over your breasts and abdomen. As if it was his pity gift for denying your orgasm.

Pure disappointment was written all over your face, all towards the man who devilishly enjoyed every second of detaining your orgasm. You felt him openly humiliate how worked up he’s got you, jeans soon choking his cock once more as he headed over towards Steve.

“fuck you” you spit at Eddie. Over with his bullshit games and so sexually frustrated you’ll kill to have anyone finish the job he’s started. You watched as he simply just looked up to where you sat across him, intimidating eyes grew fierce, lips remained shut and serious.

Your knees locked beneath you to the way he took a single look at you and turned his eye back to Steve, he immediately after got up from his stance and slowly nodded to your disrespect, the way he looked right now could’ve easily made you cum if you weren’t so frustrated with him. Slow predatory walk approached, wet hair concealing away the brightest parts of his eyes. He reached a hand and pulled you in by your neck threatening;

“..I swear you I’ll make you the biggest slut you’ve never even thought yourself capable of being.” he spoke, jeans loose and belt adding to the ambience along with the both of your lost breaths. He kissed you once before finding seat right next to Steve again, this time legs sat wide, and his back sinked into the couch, like he was ready for a show. The show he was aching to witness.

“..Stevey here says he wants his cock warmed up” Eddie now taunted away at Steve who could pop away his zipper if he hardens just a bit more, his hairy chest creeping out the shirt he wore, lips parted exasperatingly open as his legs slightly twitched from self-restraint.

Steve quickly used his fingers to signal you to go over towards him, he smiled at how you sweetly wiped your face with an arm and crawled your way to him.

He reached for you, assisting in any way he could’ve to accommodate your nude self onto his clothed lap. He took a look at you, at how sexually frustrated you presented yourself to him. Almost immediately he began placing little kisses onto your forehead, then cheek forwarding to your neck. Your eyes were sealed shut to the pretty feeling now, he held you so nicely that you felt yourself embarrassingly dampening his blue jeans. You soon felt his pair of cold hands directing your mandible to a pair of lips you glided with gently, you desperately inhaling as much of him as you could. His mouth was almost admiring, he appreciated your skin with adoration, he was easily the perfect balance to Eddie.

“Can I kiss you?” purred Steve onto the nape of your neck, gently kissing onto the exposed skin, traces of saliva gifting view onto his now fluffier lips. He was so sweet towards you, cleaning away left tears and admiringly massaging your shoulders strolling down to your arms. Steve only brushed his lips against yours, slowly toying away every time you tried fully closing the gap.

“I need you to kiss me.” you almost begged for his lips to explore your own, for them to sweeten your mouth just how he showed you he was able to sweeten your body. Steve paused and suddenly carried your weight onto the wall that sat behind you all, he wanted to get you warmed up to himself with a different feel from the couch first.

Harrington held you up against the wall and gently lowered his head, kissing you, lips crashing together like waves in the ocean, his lips were soft against yours, but you needed more. You inhaled sharply, aggressively clinging onto his shirt, needing all of him as much as possible, for him to finally make you cum, for him to put an end to the torture that is his tease. Steve caught on and returned the kiss harder, this time your bottom lip was captured between his and he began pursuing his body closer to yours, hardness pressing onto your stomach. Steve enjoyed every second of having you teased to the bare point you’re pathetically begging him to take his turn fucking you. Having him know exactly what it is he needed to do to have you beg his touch, to do about just enough to you and your body that you’re left with no choice that you can’t avoid wanting him this badly. Steve only proceeded to rubbing himself onto you harder, faster and smoother, he was now bucking himself onto your body. Soon after, the kiss grew incompetent, his tongue now involved you automatically got ahold of him in that cotton-top he wore

“I need to taste you. Let me taste you.” Steve only grew hungrier for you, the hungrier you grew for him, his mouth becoming sloppier synchronized with your own rhythm from the thought of finally savoring your pussy. You eagerly nodded to the man’s request, Steve impulsively beginning his trail of warm kisses along the path between your cum-filled breasts, him repeating the act to return and beginning with licking strips of saliva onto the cuddly skin,

“put them in my mouth” he kneeled below you, having his head be in perfect alignment with your tits as you just lowered into his open mouth.

Steve ravilishly latched onto your skin, using his tongue to tease your nipples you watched how he massaged your breasts as if they were only his. He wanted his mouth attached to every body part of yours and he showed you so by taking one of your breasts into the mouth he used to suck, groaning to himself from the taste. Holding the remaining of the skin into his hand, attaching and detaching himself with ‘pop’ sounds, strings of saliva following his soft lips and the breasts he suckled, he was doing everything just right. Him doing this nonstop you notice he slowly led his head down to your needy cunt. Steve held one of your legs above his shoulder and returned to his height, holding your weight up in the air before digging his head further between your thighs. Gently, he inhaled the natural esoteric scent you released, he kissing along your pussy lips before he instinctively took your clit into his mouth and continued to slurp every drop of your juices accessible. Steve now led your other leg above his other shoulder and tongued you down deeper, you wrapping your legs along his back, him holding you still with his grip.

Screaming inaudible praises you felt as Steve began taking steps from his stance and held you tight by your ass. He had his fingers sculpting you perfectly in his hands as he carried your weight above his head right back onto the couch you two played on before, his strength just turned you on more.

Eddie only groaned to himself from what he witnessed now, him unzipping his jeans to pump his tired cock from how provokingly you’re getting treated infront of him.

You quickly crawled off of Steve and laid onto the couch with your ass up in the air for him, arms holding the rest of your weight, Munson’s cock getting jerked off right on your face.

“Fuck.”

Steve husked to himself, his bottom lip getting caught between his teeth from the demonstration of how much you craved him, if eyes could speak his would say he was gonna fuck you right there, right now. You looked completely vulnerable to him, your holes were arched up for display for Steve who stared down at you, how you’re so prettily positioned for him, for his cock.

“Oh i’m gonna’ fuck you so hard..”

You felt him shift and mumble to himself, he was so serious, so fucking ready to push his cock into your pussy. He quickly ripped his pants away and stripped from his decorated boxers, you nodded as he toyed his length around your vulva in consent for him to finally adjust his head into your opening. He tapped his heavy cock onto your exterior before making his way in, sliding into you gently for you to take his width, firm hands pressing onto your arched waist,

“Just a little more for me baby, Oh yeah, you can take me so good.” continued he, grabbing onto the ass that danced along with his hips, him using your handles as extra support. He pushed himself further in, widening your hole to his size, you screeched to the feeling, “Shh, good girl.”

You moaned away causing the stranger to speed up. You loved his cock and you told him so in between teary mumbles and fuck you meant it, the way he fucked you felt so warm, he filled your cunt so perfectly, tips of his fingers not for once detaching from your body, wet kisses onto your mouth and dirty little praises into your ear. He’d become just the right amount of aggressive for you now, Steve latched onto your locs, soft grip to remove any excess from your face. He fucked himself into you just right and fuck how loud he was took over you completely. Steve held onto you harder, the hand that grabbed onto your hair soon reaching out to smack your ass; firm grips finalizing each touch. He fucked you so good you felt yourself unable to keep your mouth closed, you euphorically came with ease for him, body fluids dripping out of your cunt to which he swiped with his fingers and tongue-cleaned up entirely, mouth of his glistening with the moistness of your release.

“I want you to show me, show me how much you love this cock, beautiful.” Steve bargained, cock spraining out of your cunt to meet eye to eye with your nose as he sweetly kneeled you before him. He was throbbing for you, leaking mixtures of precum and your own arousal, dick so angelically sculpted you couldn’t hold aback anymore just how much you’d love to hear his pretty sounds again. You took him into your mouth, so gracefully kitten licking that desperate tip of his, you quickly allowing him to shape your mouth with his entrance. He felt warm and hard, pulsating inside your mouth like he’s never gotten a blowjob before. Steve tasted fresh on your tongue..

“Fuck- your mouth, agh- your mouth..”

He moaned away, voice coming out so surprisingly high-pitched it had your thighs locked together. Eddie just pumped his cock, wishing it was his cock you were swallowing instead. You knew that to him this was all blissful, drunk enough to not even attempt to hide his pretty moans but sober enough to know he wanted you to do this for him and so much fucking more. Eddie stood near you two now, him pumping his cock across your forehead while you choked on Steve’s. “..fucking look him in the eye while he bruises your throat, slut.” Eddie demanded, grabbing you by the throat and pushing you forward deeper onto Steve’s dick, your eyes attached onto Steve’s needier ones.

“Think you can fit two whole cocks inside that pretty mouth, think so baby?” Steve praised away, It took you completely for surprise how he went from shy and quiet to large and bold, but you loved it fucking loved this side of him.

Eddie instantly had his dick connecting to your cheek and grinned devilishly to the sight beneath him, occasionally swiping his length across your face patiently awaiting for an approval. Steve took his time desiring your mouth before he suddenly shifted himself to the far right of your cheek, bloating it a bit as he gave Eddie some space to fit himself into your gape. You took the men in, careful to not sink your teeth onto either one but confident enough to lick and suck them both satisfactorily. They both enjoyed how well taken care of you’re being right now, both just looking down at you, one seemingly on the verge of coming down your throat whilst the other couldn’t wait to have you comfortable enough to fuck your face in. Your cheeks remained bloated as you savored the taste of each of their cocks at once, obviously not being able to get them far in to how big they were.

Eddie now moved and stood behind you whilst Steve continued to bulk his hips infront of you.

“…what a cock-sucking whore, like me watching you down his cock don’t you, princess?” he grabbed a another significant amount of your hair and had you look back at him, fingers of his teasing at your nipples as Steve’s length not for once detached from your lips.

“Mhm” you tuned, meeting eye to eye with Eddie now who now took your arm in his hand and single-handedly led it to his hardness, having you jerk him off while you sucked off Steve. In between Steve’s praises and Eddie’s grunting you felt yourself become just as close as Steve was. They both praised, you were suckling each one now, turning every once in a while to face each of their cocks fairly.

“atta girl..so happy to have daddy share you with his friend, yeah?” giritted Munson, his large hand holding your neck to get off to the feel of his dick disappear into your throat. He was close, it was easy to memorize how sexily his stomach would tone whenever he was ready to feed you his cum.

“open.. your fucking mouth.” Eddie intervened, eyes rolling as he pumped another shot of his warmth right into your open mouth, him slapping the residue onto your cum-dripping lips. The man worn out of breath from his second release but fuck was he so hungry to watch how good you are at taking two cumshots into your mouth. He moved away and gave his friend space to dump his cum in right along with his own.

Steve neared his way to you, carefully accommodating each one of his thighs on either side of your head positioning you for the receiving of his shot. You innocently looked up at him, how you opened your cum-filled mouth for him instantly sent him over to his climax, he was already shooting strings of cum all over your face following loud whines in which he couldn’t contain.

“You’re so.. fucking perfect..” cherished Steve, leaving you a complete slutty cum-filled mess.

You swallowed their seed whole to from which they both fucking admired you doing for them.

–

Both Steve and Eddie got dressed quickly before strolling around in search of your own clothes. They firstly began by sweetly wiping away any residue mess you might’ve gotten left with, tons of damp paper towels from the bathroom helping you get cleaned up. Work blouse getting put over your head by one whilst the other helped your arms go through the fabric, skirt getting placed and zipped up whilst you got assisted in your dressing.

They both ended the night by kissing your skin adoringly before helping you close the place up. They contributed in every way possible to leave the room and the bar spotless for you, comforting you along the way to Eddie’s van.

You sat in the back with Steve who held your sleepy head onto his lap, caressing away your hair and your face whilst Eddie played some of your favorites and carefully drove you home, checking up on you more than needed.

Easy to say that it was all destined to be as you attempted to hover those slutty little after-thoughts to the inactive part of your brain, to which were kept restrained in compulsion throughout the night to when you first met eye to eye with the men you sat in that van with. You felt at ease now though, you were getting treated like the princess the men saw you as, and you loved every single minute of it…

Whatever the fuck they were doing tonight ; drunkly slurring words onto one another, lips so eagerly speaking about something so reluctant had you locked onto them. Had you recklessly doing things you never thought yourself to do.

Eddie was right, he made you a so much bigger slut than you saw yourself capable of being.

[fairlyang]

dad!miguel headcanons 🕷️

dad!miguel who always prepared gabi’s lunch in a hello kitty thermo (if he made her sopa de letras, her fav) or a hello kitty sandwich box because he knew how excited his little girl would be when she’d see how her lunch was packaged

dad!miguel who would write cute little messages or corny dad jokes on little post it notes with whatever sweet treat he’d leave her

“How does a penguin build its house?” he wrote on one side then flips it over to write the answer

“Igloos it together.” he signs it with “te amo<3” then rereads his joke to laugh at it before sticking it to a rice krispie

dad!miguel would definitely know how to do gabi’s hair (because he would do absolutely anything for her) so when she asked if he could do elsa’s braid you can bet your ass he searched up easy tutorials on youtube

dad!miguel who will make or buy whatever snack gabi may crave, have it be chicharrones, brownies, or a popsicle de gansitos, he will make sure she gets whatever she asks for

dad!miguel who would sing gabi to sleep, songs ranging from lullabies to boleros to vicente fernadez’s whole discography

dad!miguel that signs her up to whatever her little heart desires. an art class? say less. ballet? he’ll sprint to buy the shoes

dad!miguel who accidentally falls asleep on the couch after watching barbie movies with gabi

extra points knowing he’d be sitting legs spread, head against the cushion with his mouth wide open letting out the loudest of snores imaginable which would just make gabi giggle in shock

dad!miguel who’d get drunk at the neighbor’s kid’s birthday party and be one of those mexican dads to be singing so obnoxiously but somehow sounding not so bad

“le dedicó esta para mi niña hermosa.”

cue piel canela playing and dad!miguel snatching the mic from one of the tios

he tries to find gabi through drunken eyes but once he spots her in her bright pink dress he sings to her, pointing to her when the lyrics say “me importas tu y tu y tu y solamente tu.”

gabi with wide, glossy eyes watching her papi give her yet another serenata because she was spoiled rotten in all aspects, this being one of them because she loved his singing

dad!miguel who would call up his friend’s mariachi early in the morning on gabi’s birthday but ask the favor that he can sing for her instead because he always wants her day to extra special

[laurawithslblues]

Thyria at the Fantasy Faire

We’re extremely excited to return to the Fabulous Fantasy Faire. Join us for this amazing gathering of talented designers, enthusiasts, role-players and performers in the virtual world, getting together to enjoy the art, events, and of course, the shopping, all in benefit of the American Cancer Society, via Relay For Life (RFL). 🦋 Follow the fairies here to Drunken Brokkr & Les Encantades at…