#me: I think I controlled myself pretty well

[dduane]

Just a local update

For those who'll be wanting to know how I'm doing: I think right now the line from The Right Stuff is probably apropos. I'm "maintaining an even strain."

I sort of have no choice, because there's a lot of bureaucratic stuff surrounding Peter's loss that has to be dealt with, and there's not really anyone else to fall back on: in terms of local legalities; this burden falls on me. (shrug) So, I'm keepin' on keepin' on. It's not easy, when half your world has ended: but there's nothing else to do.

Just repeating the news that I just edited into the original post about all this: the "funeral expenses" issue is now handled.

And I want to thank EVERYBODY who so incredibly generously has stepped up to assist. You are all, every one of you, in my heart right now... not least due to the many, many kind things you've had to say about Peter. Current events mean I'm going to be backed up on the thank-yous for some days yet. Please bear with me.

For those who feel inclined, the Ko-Fi account here is open as usual for those who might simply want to drop something into the pot tagged "GNU Peter Morwood."* I'm looking into his notes about his preferred charities so that I can split all such donations in those directions. (For example, P. lost a beloved cousin to childhood leukemia, so I'm looking around for appropriate cancer charities. ...But more of that later.)

In local issues: I'm still waiting for word from the coroner as to when Peter's post-mortem will be happening. (I had hoped it might be today, but there's no news yet.) Not much to be said about this except that the sooner that's all handled and resolved, the happier I'll be. Then other adjacent issues can start being dealt with.

At the physical end: I haven't been sleeping terribly well, but that's probably no surprise. My appetite has been almost nonexistent, but that at least is very slowly starting to recover (to the point where at least food is no longer a source of "no interest whatsoever" or of active distaste). Right now it seems I get better results from eating out instead of cooking in: so that's the way things will go in the very short term.

But for now, pretty much all I can do is sit tight, try to keep household business from getting out of hand (why does it suddenly take so much energy just to do the dishes? ...like I don't know perfectly well why), and wait for Forces Beyond My Control to get moving.

Meanwhile, let me take a moment here to thank everybody who's expressed concern about the state of my wellbeing (and that at a time when I care a whole lot less about it than usual). It's heartening, and I very much appreciate it. I promise to do my best to do right by myself, on all of your behalf. (Behalfs? Behalves? Pfft.)

Thanks again, everybody. —D.

*People are also reminding me that the financial health of the household's still-living member in the immediate future is also an issue here. 😏 Heaven forbid I should argue the point. If you want, tag such donations as "DD" and I'll note that. ...And thanks again, all. I can always count on y'all to look after me. ❤️

[seumyo]

husband!kageyama taking care of your nails for you.

“You know, when you told me you were going to clip my nails, I didn’t think you meant it seriously.”

Kageyama gave a small grunt, not looking up. “I always mean it seriously.”

“That’s what worries me a little.”

He blinked, pausing to glance at you. “Why?”

“Because you have your ‘actual game face’ on. Like you’re about to hit the ball through someone’s soul—my poor finger’s soul.”

His brow furrowed. “This is delicate work,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I have to focus. And I’m careful.”

You laughed, watching him lift your hand like it was a precious object. He took a long moment to examine your fingers—turning them slightly, his thumb brushing along your knuckles in slow circles. It’s gentle and careful, and it warms your heart to see your husband so loving like this.

“You have a hangnail here,” he muttered, frowning. “Were you picking at it again?”

“I got nervous during that meeting yesterday.”

He clicked his tongue quietly. “Stop doing that. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I didn’t know I’d be getting a full checkup afterward!”

“You don’t need to be nervous. You’re… good at what you do.” His voice dropped a little as he said it, like it embarrassed him to offer praise so directly. “I’ve heard you on the phone. You’re smart. And brave.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. Your smile softened. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said all week.”

“I said you looked pretty yesterday.”

“You said I ‘looked rested.’”

“…Oh. Well, you look even prettier today.”

You laughed, and it made his ears turn pink.

He clipped your nails gently, his hands steady, fingers long and precise. He held each of yours securely, guiding you through the process like a practiced routine. It wasn’t rushed; Kageyama took his time, carefully aligning the clipper, checking the angle twice before making a cut. After each nail, he paused to brush the trimmed bits into a little ceramic bowl they kept nearby.

“Do you do this often?” You asked after a long pause. “For yourself, I mean?”

He nodded once. “Every few days. I have to. My fingers are everything. If I don’t keep my nails short and clean, they can catch on the ball or split. It’s stupid how much one little crack can mess with your whole game.”

You gave him a look, eyes wide with something like quiet awe. “You take this so seriously.”

“It’s part of taking care of myself,” he said, and his gaze lifted to yours. “And now it’s part of taking care of you too.”

Your breath caught for just a moment. How did you ever get so lucky to snag this man?

Kageyama picked up the small file next and began to smooth the edges with slow, even strokes. The motion was rhythmic and tender. You watched the way he focused so intently on the task—the slight pinch in his brow, the way his lower lip pressed into a thin line when he was trying to be especially careful.

“You always do this when you’re nervous,” you said softly, brushing your free hand against his hair.

“Do what?”

“Zone in. Like the world disappears except the thing you’re trying to control.”

Kageyama was quiet for a moment, then exhaled. “That’s… true.”

“Are you nervous right now?”

He hesitated. “Not nervous. Just… I want to get it right.”

“Because it’s me?”

He gave the tiniest nod, eyes still trained on your thumbnail. “You’re important. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

You leaned in, resting your forehead against his for a beat. “You won’t.”

The silence between you grew comfortable. The kind of quiet that speaks in glances and gentle touches. After he filed the last nail, he gently ran his thumb across each fingertip, checking for snags, tiny splinters, anything he might have missed. Then he reached for the cuticle oil and unscrewed the little bottle with a slow, almost reverent motion.

“I’m going to massage this in,” he said, almost shyly—yet still determined.

You nodded, watching him carefully as he dabbed a small dot of oil on each nail, then rubbed it in with soft, circular motions. His touch was warm, so warm, like the atmosphere during mornings in a bakery. The way he held your hand wasn’t just careful—it was reverent. As if your hands were something sacred. Something worth protecting.

“I like your hands,” he said suddenly.

You scrunched your nose, barely. “Really?”

“They’re soft. And warm. And… I know them.” His voice dropped lower, murmuring. “I know the way you hold my wrist when I’m anxious. The way you press your palm to my back when I come home late. How you run your fingers through my hair when I can’t sleep.”

You swallowed. Your chest ached in that lovely, terrible way when someone says exactly what you needed to hear without knowing it.

“I want to take care of them,” he added, brushing his thumb along the side of your pinky. “Because they take care of me.”

“Tobio…”

He looked up then, eyes a little wide like he was afraid he’d gone too far. But you leaned forward before he could pull back and kissed him softly. When you pulled away, your voice was barely a whisper. “You are the gentlest man I’ve ever known.”

He shook his head, a breath of laughter escaping. “I’m not.”

“You are. Maybe not with words. Or… you know, strangers. But with me? You’re gentle in all the ways that matter.”

You sat like that for a long moment—hands still entwined, foreheads nearly touching, the world outside fading into white noise. Then Kageyama cleared his throat. “I could… maybe paint them next time? If you want?”

Your eyes lit up. “You’d paint my nails?”

He gave an awkward little shrug. “If you like it. I’d have to practice.”

You hummed, pulling him forward into another kiss, lingering and full of affection. “You’re already perfect.”

Kageyama flushed from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears once again. He’s so easily flustered—it’s almost illegal to be this cute, you think.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[twicedone]

Let's talk about... Pyrrha Dve

So, firstly!!! I want to make it plain here that I am RAMBLING about a character I LOVE and while I'm going to TRY to keep things about them as close to canon as I possibly can - I am dumb, and I forget things!!!!!! Secondly; SPOILERS FOR Harrow the Ninth and Nona the Ninth!!!! Thirdly; I will be making grammatical errors and you will be dealing with them!!! (sorry!) Anyways, I absolutely ADORE (full-caps and bold too!) Pyrrha Dve, I think that there's FAR more to her than our beloathed (I kid) Tamsyn has outright stated! (refer to @dammit-tazmuir 's wonderful post here for a look at the Pyrrha-berg ) and I think she'll be pretty important in Alecto the Ninth! However, this post is less about how Pyrrha IS and more about how she FEELS to me. I'm very early on in my transition journey, poking myself with a needle and crying at stuff all the time... so when I started reading Nona the Ninth and saw all the care Tamysn had put into Pyrrha I started to have the thought that maybe --just maybe-- she'd been intended to be read as a Trans character. I kept reading (and talking to a friend about the books, 'cause that was fun!) and the more I learned about her the more the conviction built in me that she was Trans; well, not LITERALLY Trans. (She had a female body at one point, one that she sacrificed long ago... and maybe that sorta disqualifies her from it but that also sounds REALLY fucked up to me??? So I think she's fine, and can rep Trans pride whenever she wants.) Anyways. She's lived the past TEN THOUSAND YEARS in a male body (sounds familiar.), having to stare at the face of her half-dead best pal whenever she intermittently had control of him! I can hardly imagine a better metaphor for dysphoria... forced to stare at someone other than yourself, someone who you care for on some level (it's you, after all.) but you know it's not REALLY you or your body. It's just your soul looking out of eyes that hardly belong to you. Her insistence on shaving her facial hair and hair-hair, even though it was only mentioned a handful of times, it really spoke to me. I hate seeing anything on my face, and I hate the mop of hair that my body makes. When she asked Pal if he could zap the follicles out of her chin, jod (lol) I felt that. There's also like, just how emotional she can be... (not really a trans-thing but more a TD (that's me) thing.) which speaks to me on a personal level 'cause of all these stupid new feelings I have to deal with. And just like, a lot of her dialogue. I don't know, maybe it's wishful thinking and the desperate need for a role model transplanting my own experiences onto a fictional character! Whatever! It's my head canon, and I'll do what I want with it! Edit; I FORGOR TO TALK ABOUT PYRRHA AND WAKE!!!!!!!!!! I can't be the only one (and I'm sure I'm not) that thinks that Pyrrha and Wake were far more intimate than Wake and G1deon, right?! It seems like all signs are pointing towards it, like Wake only included G1deon by accident because she wasn't aware of what Lyctorhood actually was! I think maybe they even loved each other, in a fucked up and supremely toxic way. Maybe Pyrrha would've actually helped her had she been in charge of G1deon's body at the time. ALSO What Trans woman isn't in love with a crazy fucked up woman? (or man, or enby, or someone outside or in between it all) I'd fall for Wake too, Pyrrha says she's got a thing for "Landmine People"? Wake is a fucking NUCLEAR BOMB!!!! I'd betray my jod to sleep with her too, WOOF!

Thanks for Reading!!! (Or skipping to the end to yell at me!) Please let me know what you think in the quotes, and I'm sorry to dammit-tazmuir if I accidentally pinged them or something, I'm still learning how to use tumblr!

ONE LAST THING!!!!! I will throw myself on a fence and haunt Tamsyn as a revenant for all eternity if Griddlehark doesn't get a payoff, you have been WARNED!!!!!!!!

[odileeclipse]

Just checking up on you cutie pie! How you doinnn

hello!! I guess I'll take this as an opportunity to update on everything

on a personal level I am doing my best exam season is making me cry, but writing has helped me destress, however it's been hard to juggle everything especially on a social level because guys when I study, I sit down and DND EVERYTHING.

I don't remember if I ever shared that for last semester or I don't even remember when I got rid of my phone for 2 weeks just to study I made it so my friend had like parental controls on my stuff so I could only study, and I didn't have a single social interaction throughout the whole thing no texting or messaging or even really communicating with my friends, was it worth it?

Honestly no not really, did I pass?

Yes...but that's correlation not causation.

Other than all of that I am okay but I am a little delayed on replying to my dms, so sorry about that y'all <3 I promise it's not you, even my irls are struggling to get a hold of me but that's because in my head I think "Oh I'm studying I'll get to it later" later does not come because I end up hyperfocusing LOL

but I am actually doing well guys all in all I am doing great for myself!

I don't talk a lot about my personal life on my blog because this is my fanfic account that I just write on and I think people are just here for the writing which is fine! I mean that's literally what my account is for, but for the few that like to read my thoughts these posts are for you.

I actually met someone pretty special recently so that's always fun, one of the best parts of my day really! (other than you guys and writing) I don't answer them as much as I'd like to (due to exams) but they're a lovely person really.

So despite everything I am doing okay thank you for asking it made me really reflect and reflection is always a good thing.

[acescorazon]

Changes

Chapter: 26

Title: MUAH!

Rating: M

Word Count: 3427

Warnings: Language, Crocodile. My dark impulses took over.

Chapter Excerpt:

“You don’t have to pay me back the money you owe me.” Crocodile suddenly says, cutting off Buggy again, and this time his voice is more desperate than before. “Even if you reject me, you still don’t have to pay me back, okay? You don’t even have to stay in Cross Guild if you don’t want to. Just… I’m sorry for everything, alright? You mean more to me than a couple of hundred million berries.”

What? Buggy thinks, almost instantly caught off guard by Crocodile’s words again. He’s not in debt anymore? He… He can be free and do whatever he wants. Seriously…? It’s that simple? 

Crocodile takes a step forward, chasing after Buggy and desperately trying to get close to him again, “I mean it. I have feelings for you,” He tells Buggy before he cups the side of his face, “I wouldn’t be making a complete fool of myself if I weren’t serious, Buggy. Just one chance. I never beg, but I’m begging you to at least consider giving me a chance, dammit.”

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Everything feels overwhelming again. Mihawk and Crocodile, the same two men who have spent the last couple of months making Buggy’s life a living hell, have had a change of heart it seems. They no longer see Buggy as some weak, gutless coward, or some useless fuck up, but instead they see him as something entirely different. Now, Buggy is someone who is deserving of their respect and admiration. He’s brave, charming, capable, caring, selfless, and even pretty. What made them change their opinions on him, though? Again, it’s not like Buggy’s made any major changes to himself or his personality. He’s still the same person he was when Mihawk and Crocodile first arrived at Emptee Bluffs Island, but you wouldn’t think that by the way they speak about him nowadays.

Buggy struggles to understand how that kind of hatred can bloom into romantic feelings not just for Mihawk but for Crocodile as well. Sure, Buggy’s had his moments where he’s stood up for himself (mainly when he couldn’t control his temper or take anymore) but was that really enough to get the two to change their opinions on him? It couldn’t have been, right? He’s done absolutely nothing to deserve their hatred, but he’s done even less to deserve their affection.

Crocodile says he gained a sense of respect for him after he fought him back at home and that that same respect turned into feelings of fondness, especially after Buggy saved his life - or, rather, tried to. Was that really all it took to change his opinions of Buggy so drastically? Mihawk’s in a similar situation: He realized he was wrong for treating Buggy so horribly and wanted to make amends, which somehow lead to him developing feelings for Buggy as well, even though Buggy never did anything particularly special to warrant his affection. In any case, they both somehow ended up developing feelings for someone they once couldn’t stand, isn’t that odd?

This has got to be the most frustrating situation Buggy’s ever been in. How is he supposed to feel now that he knows that both Mihawk and Crocodile have feelings for him, especially after they wreaked havoc on his life and caused his self-esteem to plummet to an all-time low in a matter of months?! He was struggling to comprehend and accept the fact that just one of them had feelings for him, but now he has both of them pursuing him.

It all seems confusing, aggravating, and disingenuous at times when Buggy thinks about it. There are times when Buggy genuinely feels like this is all one drawn-out joke, but the punchline never comes even as the days drag on and on, and that’s what makes things worse. Mihawk and Crocodile are both claiming they like him and their confessions have come mere weeks apart from each other, is he wrong for finding that suspicious?

Is he wrong for being confused about this whole situation in general and for being so indecisive at times?

Things should be a lot more straightforward than this. They’ve hurt him, and Buggy will never forget what they’ve done to him. He’ll forgive, but he can’t forget what they’ve put him through and all the anguish he’s suffered because of them. They can call him pretty, they can call him charming, brave, incredible, and anything they want, but it won’t change anything. They don’t deserve him, and he knows that. He fucking knows that, so he doesn’t get why he’s struggling like this when it comes to Mihawk in particular, and he doesn’t get why he hasn’t ripped into Crocodile for even having the balls to confess to him in the first place after all he’s done.

Crocodile is the one who is least deserving of a chance with him. He’s treated Buggy like absolute garbage. And sure, Buggy’s gotten a couple of apologies and some fancy gifts, but other than that, Crocodile hasn’t put in even half the effort that Mihawk has to show that he’s sorry. Not that it matters, Buggy wouldn’t accept his confession for all the sweet words and material goods in the world – not even the One Piece!

Crocodile couldn’t have picked a worse time to confess to him. Granted, Buggy doubts he’d be more accepting if Crocodile confessed a week ago or a few weeks from now, but his mind is already a mess from everything that’s going on with Mihawk. He doesn’t need both men coming at him at once and causing him to have all these unnecessary thoughts and feelings. He was barely ready to become friends with them, but they’re already talking about taking things a step further than that.

Buggy wasn’t ready for this at all; he was already at war with himself and being pulled in all sorts of directions, and Crocodile’s just making things a hell of a lot worse. He’s angry, he’s hurt, he’s confused, he’s back to wondering if this is all a joke, and if it is, if Mihawk is in on it. He--

Crocodile brings Buggy back to reality when he suddenly grabs him by the waist with one strong arm and pulls him towards him. “Buggy,” Crocodile calls out, “I’m not the type to beg – but I’ll do anything you want right now. Just say the word and I’ll do it. I’m fuckin’ serious about this. About wanting you.” Shut up, shut up, shut up. Buggy thinks, I hate you. Why are you doing this to me? The words are at the back of his head, but he can’t seem to voice them nor even move at this very moment. Instead, he remains in Crocodile’s grasp, stiff as a corpse. “I’m sorry, okay? How many more times do you want me to say it? I fucked up. I was wrong, and I see that now.  Will you forgive me and give me a chance to prove that I’ve changed?”

Fuck NO.

“I’m sure you have changed, but I really don’t think that me and you would make a good couple.” Buggy ends up saying. He doesn’t know why he’s even giving Crocodile the privilege of hearing an excuse right now instead of harshly turning him down. He has the opportunity to crush Crocodile’s heart into pieces, provided that Crocodile is serious about his feelings right now. “We always seem to butt heads an—”

“I’ve been trying not to argue with you as much,” Crocodile quickly says in return, cutting him off. Has he really been making an effort to not fight with Buggy, or has Buggy just been more submissive than usual as of lately? “I’ve been trying to pick my words more wisely, too. I’ve changed.”

“Well, even if that is true...” Buggy sighs, “I just think our rocky past will get in the way of things. I mean…” He pauses before quickly muttering, “It’s sure getting in the way of me and Hawkeye.” he admits, and he doesn’t know why he’s saying that, why he’s admitting that there may or may not be something between him and Mihawk.

“It won’t. We can work past it. “

“Can we really?”

“Buggy.” Crocodile calls out in a weary tone, holding him tighter. 

“What? I’m being serious? Can we really just get past the fact that you spent a majority of your early days on Emptee Bluffs terrorizing me?”

“I’m fuckin’ sorry.” Crocodile apologizes for the umpteenth time, and Buggy can just hear the frustration and exhaustion behind his words. Buggy’s frustrated by this whole thing too, but Crocodile won’t leave things alone! “How do I prove to you that I’ve changed?” He suddenly asks, and that’s a question Buggy just doesn’t have an answer to, “How do I show you that I care? Do you want me to buy you something? Tell me what it is and I’ll get it for you.”

“No, I don’t want you to buy me anything, Crocodile.” Buggy says as he pushes himself away from him and their stiff embrace and takes a step back. “Okay, I’m just not in—”

“You don’t have to pay me back the money you owe me.” Crocodile suddenly says, cutting off Buggy again, and this time his voice is more desperate than before. “Even if you reject me, you still don’t have to pay me back, okay? You don’t even have to stay in Cross Guild if you don’t want to. Just… I’m sorry for everything, alright? You mean more to me than a couple of hundred million berries.”

What? Buggy thinks, almost instantly caught off guard by Crocodile’s words again. He’s not in debt anymore? He… He can be free and do whatever he wants. Seriously…? It’s that simple? 

Crocodile takes a step forward, chasing after Buggy and desperately trying to get close to him again, “I mean it. I have feelings for you,” He tells Buggy before he cups the side of his face, “I wouldn’t be making a complete fool of myself if I weren’t serious, Buggy. Just one chance. I never beg, but I’m begging you to at least consider giving me a chance, dammit.”

Buggy yet again finds himself going completely still as he tries to process everything that’s going on. The confession is one thing, but the fact that Crocodile’s put aside his pride and is quite literally begging for Buggy to give him a chance is another thing. Once again, he finds himself wondering why things aren’t as black and white as they should be. Like, why can’t he just tell Crocodile to go to hell and go about his day like he normally would? He had the same issue with Hawkeye, didn’t he? Why is he so bad at straight up rejecting people?

Those feelings of confusion only grow when Crocodile drops his hand down and suddenly grabs Buggy’s. “I mean it.” He repeats, trying to assure Buggy before he lifts his hand up and presses it against his chest. Crocodile’s heart is practically hammering underneath Buggy’s touch, and instead of being disgusted, or annoyed, or even indifferent, Buggy’s own heartbeat matches the rhythm of Crocodile’s.

It’s horrifying how, despite logic and the warnings his brain keeps giving him, how easily Buggy begins to sway. His expression starts to soften just a little as he looks up at Crocodile and he goes from being reluctant to just plain unsure. “No more bullshit, okay? Let me have you. Let me spoil and protect you, and treat you how you deserve to really be treated.”

This shouldn’t be happening to Buggy twice. This shouldn’t have even happened to him once! He shouldn’t be struggling to turn Crocodile of all people down for crying out loud! He feels almost dizzy with conflicting emotions as he replies, “I...I’m trying to see where this thing with Hawkeye goes…” He says and can’t believe that those words are actually leaving his mouth despite all his previous confusion and denial.

It’s...It’s the truth, though. Rather he wants to admit it or not, he’s been steadily letting Mihawk get closer and closer to him, and things are at a point where he doesn’t think he can continue running away and then changing his mind afterwards. It’s gotten to a point where he knows he has to make a firm decision and stick with it no matter how scary the outcome might be.

“I know. It’s not a problem. I can share you,” Crocodile tells him before he pauses for a second and corrects himself, “We can share you. All three of us can work something out, trust me.” That...That just makes Buggy feel even more disorientated. The three of them? Together? What? “What do you say…?” That’s a big decision to make, isn’t it? He can’t just make it right now.

“... I need some time to think,” Buggy murmurs, trying to buy himself more time and prevent himself from making any rash decisions in the heat of the moment. His head is a mess even though it shouldn’t be, and so is his heart. Who would have thought that Crocodile of all people could persuade him so easily…?

Buggy wants to run, even though it’ll continue this seemingly endless loop of him flip-flopping and doubting and denying everything that is happening in his life, as well as his own feelings. Everything is confusing and scary, and quite frankly, it’s a lot easier to run when things get too overwhelming and say that he isn’t serious about things than to man up and face all his problems. He gets why he’s so indecisive now: It’s just hard to make a firm decision when he’s still so scared and unsure, and when Crocodile and Mihawk haven’t gained even a fraction of his trust. 

It seems like Crocodile is already onto him, though, and has a reply waiting for him, “Didn’t we just talk about this?” He asks, “Didn’t we talk about how you should stop overthinking everything and just make a firm decision and stick to it?” Well, yes, but… But… that was different…Kinda.

“Buggy,” Crocodile calls out again, giving his hand a firm squeeze, “Just one chance. And if I fuck up and hurt you again, I’ll kick my own ass. Or I’ll let you and Hawkeye beat the fuck out of me, okay? Just one chance is all I’m asking for.”

…

…

“Just one chance…” Buggy agrees in a tiny voice before he quickly yanks his hand away, “Just one chance, but don’t go thinking that everything will be all sunshine and rainbows. I’m–” For a moment, Buggy forgets that this is Crocodile that he’s dealing with and not Mihawk. Crocodile doesn’t have half the patience, chivalry, selflessness, or romantic attitude that Hawkeye has, and that shows when he cuts Buggy off not with a gentle, chaste kiss, not with a sweet celebratory one either, but with a sudden rough kiss.

 

Good fucking Lord. It’s dizzying to go from arguing one moment, to kissing the very next. Yet Crocodile’s got one arm around Buggy’s waist again and his fingers threaded through his silky, blue locks as he tilts his head back. Buggy doesn’t know how to even react for a good minute or so as Crocodile completely floods his senses.

The faint smell of tobacco and Crocodile’s expensive cologne fills Buggy’s nose, and it’s then that Buggy realizes just how attractive the other man’s earthy scent actually is. He smells better than Buggy cares to admit, and tastes a little bit like black coffee. God. In between kisses, he repeatedly whispers to Buggy in a low, rough voice. “Mm. Thank you.” he says, and Buggy is so disarmed that he doesn’t even remember what Crocodile is thanking him for.  

Crocodile’s kisses are rough and hungry, but somehow his lips are oh, so soft and his words are extremely tender. “Thank you. Thank you.” He continues to tell Buggy, and when he’s not, he’s giving him some other random praise here or there like: “You taste so damn sweet.” 

Buggy realizes he’s fucked the moment he actually closes his eyes, and hesitantly starts to kiss Crocodile back. God, he’s doing it, he’s kissing Crocodile of all people. He’s kissing Crocodile, and it doesn’t feel gross or horrible or even slightly wrong.

For several minutes there, Buggy buries all his feelings deep within himself and just enjoys the feeling of Crocodile’s lips moving against his own. He holds onto his lush coat for dear life, and it’s only when his lips start to hurt and his lungs crave oxygen that he actually breaks their kiss. Crocodile immediately chases after him, though, “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asks in a rough voice, and before Buggy can reply, they’re kissing again.

Stupid, impatient, needy man. Buggy hates him, he despises him, he… He still kisses him back against his better judgment, but only for a little longer. When Buggy said he would give him a chance, he meant that he would give Crocodile the chance to pursue him romantically (as crazy as that seems) not that he was giving him the chance to make out with him. 

Buggy breaks their kiss with a wet pop and glares at Crocodile. His face burns and so do his lungs, and the only reply he can muster up at the moment is a quiet, “Asshole.” However, Crocodile doesn’t seem too bothered by the insult, which once again makes Buggy wonder why he even bothers trying to be nasty to Crocodile and Mihawk in the first place. “You didn’t let me finish speaking.” He complains, but he already forgot most of what he was going to say anyways. 

“Yeah?” Crocodile replies in a slightly breathless voice, “Then hurry up and say what you wanna say then so we can get back to kissing.” 

Buggy tries and fails to remain indifferent to Crocodile’s words. It’s just so damn hard to keep a cool face after being kissed breathless and whilst having Crocodile staring at him like that. “I wanted to say that things won’t be all sunshine and rainbows between us just because I’m giving you a chance!” Or something like that…” I’m still not too fond of you,” he says, almost immediately after kissing Crocodile, “And you’re going to have to work your ass off if you really want to win me over, asshole!” 

Now, if he were speaking to Mihawk, he’d receive a sweet, patient reply. Something along the lines of, ‘Of course. I understand that I’ve done wrong in the past, and I’ll work nonstop to gain your trust and affection, darling.’ or something similar to that.

But Buggy isn’t speaking to Hawkeye right now, he’s speaking to Crocodile. And Crocodile grunts in response, “I already said I would prove myself to you, didn’t I? Jeez, shut up and kiss me.” 

“...”

 

Oh, Buggy hates him so much! He doesn’t think that he’s ever met a more annoying man in his life, is this really how he proves himself to Buggy? By trying to make out with him? Where’s the sweet, warm moments of affection, Where’s the gifts and praises (not that he needs any, but still)? Where is the soft side of Crocodile that he literally just showed him before they kissed?!

Buggy clicks his tongue, “I’m serious. I’m only going to give you one chance to prove yourself, so you better not screw this up. You better make up for all the shit you’ve done to me in the past.” Honestly, now that he thinks of it, he should probably be saying the same thing to Mihawk...”And don’t go thinking I’m going to be all sweet and affectionate with you all the time either, that sort of thing has to be earned.” He says – immediately after kissing Crocodile.

(He should have said all that before letting Crocodile kiss him.)

“Mm.”

“And this doesn’t mean we’re together or anything. I’m just giving you a chance to show me that you’ve changed, alright? We’ll be going at my pace too, got it? And don’t even think about trying to sleep with me.” Man, he really has to remember to have this same talk with Mihawk, huh?

“Mm. Can we still makeout?”

“…”

...Maybe.

Buggy doesn’t let Crocodile know what’s actually on his mind, instead he breaks free from his grasp at long last and groans, “You’re impossible.” He complains under his breath, “I’m leaving, I need to go call Cabaji and Mohji…” It’s partially an excuse, and partially the truth. He really does want to go call those two, but he also needs a moment alone to process all that’s happened between him and Crocodile.

A look of disappointment spreads across Crocodile’s rugged face. “Are you gonna come back afterwards? I want to spend some time alone with you.” He asks in an uncharacteristically sweet voice. The question makes Buggy hesitate for a moment, but he eventually shrugs and gives Crocodile a vague response, “I dunno. Maybe.”

Buggy’s so cool and mysterious, and he really knows how to keep people on their toes, doesn’t he? ...If only that were the truth. The real truth is, as previously stated, Buggy just needs some time alone to process the recent development between he and Crocodile, but it’s not like he can tell him that. So, Buggy takes the long forgotten transponder snail and hauls ass out of Crocodile’s room, and as he leaves he can just vaguely hear Crocodile mutter something under his breath:

“You better come back to see me, you damn clown.”

Yeah, whatever.

A/N: I often question how I want to write the development of Mihawk/Buggy and Crocodile/Buggy and i think Mihawk would take the slow, romantic route witth Buggy while Crocodile wouldn't hesitate to shove his tongue down his throat the moment he got the chance to~ Which is why we got this masterpiece. (plus the Cross Guild demons told me to write it.) Also tell me if the pacing is off with this or if it's shitty (and I'll cry but appreciate the feedback lol)

[2c75ff]

Piccolo 👀

🔵 'SEND A NAME/URL AND I'LL GOSSIP ABOUT THE RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC' meme . ACCEPTING

Alright. So.

As things currently stand, the fact that there's Something Weird going on between them is a laughably open secret. The question isn't actually whether or not the weirdness exists in the first place -- (it does, they both know it, and everyone who's seen them together over the course of the last few months probably knows it too) -- but rather where it's leading, whether or not they'll let it go there, and what words, if any, might be the best suited for describing it.

And, really--? None of that is actually too surprising, once you get over the kneejerk 'wait, didn't y'all both try really hard to knock each other's blocks off that one time?' feeling about it.

(Besides, they still try really hard to knock each other's blocks off on the regular. That part hasn't actually changed.)

The thing about Seventeen -- (or one of the many things, really) -- is that he's a coyote at heart, and most people are simply not equipped or willing to deal with that in a long-term, intimate way without expecting him to ultimately transition into a ‘normal’ member of society for them. Figuratively speaking, Seventeen might pass well enough for a dog at a glance; but he chafes under social trappings and obligations in ways that most people don't, and mistrusts anything that, to him, looks or feels too much like a leash. He has a tendency to fight against any form of containment even if doing so isn't actually in his best interests, and he's not above burning perfectly good things to the ground just to buck the sensation of being caged or tied down.

For obvious reasons, this makes him generally ill-suited for lasting, consistent relationships of any kind with the overwhelming majority of people.

But then, here comes Piccolo, who, as it turns out, doesn't really belong at humanity's figurative social table any more than Seventeen does.

While their individual manners of perceiving and navigating this sense of otherness may be different, the fundamental, strangely shared truth of it is that they both are outsiders in their own ways, and they each make the conscious choice to not assimilate into the rat race of society at large. What this has meant for them over the last few months is that [a] neither of them treats the other's way of existing or engaging with the world as a thing in need of fixing, and [b] neither of them expects the other to become or act 'more human/more domesticated' in order to advance/solidify/contextualize the relationship slowly taking shape between them.

In sum, they vibe weirdly well.

On Seventeen's end, it's pretty much the first time he hasn't felt as though he's being lured into a live-capture trap for the purpose of unwilling rehabilitation, the way he does with other people. Which, in turn, makes him curious. Makes him exploratory. Makes him bold.

Given the way that the last several months have gone, Seventeen is fairly certain that Piccolo has at least some kind of feeling for him, that's exclusively for him. There are others that Piccolo clearly regards as comrades, of course, and there are those among them that Piccolo is content to allow into his personal space; but as far as Seventeen can tell (and believe me, he's been watching), there's nobody other than him that Piccolo not only accepts casual touch from on the regular, but also makes a conscious and consistent point to touch back, of his own accord. Seventeen might have started this whole thing, but Piccolo has kept it going every step of the way. Whatever it is that's going on between them, it’s only between them; and they’re both active, knowing participants within that framework. If Piccolo was a human, Seventeen would almost certainly interpret all of this as an indication of at least some measure of romantic and/or physical interest.

The obvious follow-up here though is that Piccolo isn't human. Neither of them are. And so here Seventeen is, months into this whole back-and-forth-slowly-escalating-Thing they’ve got going on, hesitating to let himself interpret it in the way that seems reasonable/obvious to him, precisely because he doesn’t know if that’s actually the reasonable/obvious interpretation on Piccolo’s end too. He's never actually seen any evidence or gotten any particular impression that Piccolo has an urge for sex or partnership or anything of that sort in the first place. All Seventeen has which might possibly suggest such a thing is this weird little dynamic they've been going distinctly and uncharacteristically out of their ways to build with each other, while also doing everything in their powers to avoid actually talking about or naming it. Seventeen knows what this whole thing looks like from his own perspective, but he doesn’t know what it looks like from Piccolo’s; and honestly he’s not really sure if Piccolo knows what he makes of it yet either.

As of right now, Seventeen is about this fucking close to breaking the unspoken rule they’ve both been abiding by — (that talking about whatever This is might somehow break it if they dare to mention it prematurely) — and directly addressing the game they’ve clearly been playing with each other. Pushing the envelope to a point where they simply have to acknowledge the elephant in the room, even if imperfectly, and see how things shake out from there. After all, he's never been great at playing safe for too long.

[42lima]

how has your world been in the past months?

weird and lowkey lonely! not ina terrible way. im just tryna be an adult, ? im sure you get it. its like im growing up too slow and same time too fast. like im not on the same timeline as most people ive been isolating myself too much and then feeling sorry for myself about it. as if it isnt my own choice! so i want to start making better choices for myself. what im learning is that almost no ones gonna chase after you, not in the good or bad way. ive been so used to thinking the whole world revolved around me. that was once a way of thinking that kept me defensive and protected but now i think there are better ways to be.

[theramblingvoid]

"Body horror" yeah I agree, living in a body is horrific. That guy with a hundred eyes can stay though he's chill

[talkorsomething]

I can't sleep again.

[artekai]

I like how the wiki simply takes her word for it

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[yoohyeon]

Round of applause for Alex, I’m going to bed before 1am 👏👏👏👏

[clonewarsahsoka]

Being genuinely supported is crazy wow

[voiceshearingyouloud]

I know it’s just because I have a really bad headache but like. Some days I feel like all the effort I’ve put into recovering and dealing with mental illness is futile because the universe keeps chucking more illness and suffering at me. The tiny shelter I labour to make is gonna come down eventually, so why not now? Why did I even let my soul get worn to pieces just to survive if all I get is more pain?

[miraclemaya]

MADOKA - “I’m thinking I’ll order a beef udon bowl, since Sayaka-chan told me that they make those really good here. What about you, Homura-chan?”

CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - Food needs can be met with an expenditure of 1.23% of total magic. Proceed?

GRIEF SYNDROME [Trivial: Success] - MAGICAL GIRLS THAT IGNORE FOOD ARE OFTEN MORE PRONE TO GRIEF ACCUMULATION. MY ARMS WILL ALWAYS BE WAITING FOR YOU, HOMURA, BUT IT’S IMPORTANT TO BE HAPPY UNTIL THAT DAY. BESIDES, MADOKA WANTS TO EAT WITH YOU. DISAPPOINTING HER WILL FILL YOUR SOUL GEM WITH A HALF A GRIEF SEED WORTH OF DESPAIR.

TEA WITH MAMI-SAN [Legendary: Success] - Sayaka says the beef bowl is good? Maybe go for that. She knows Madoka’s tastes better than anyone — and if Madoka likes something, you will certainly like it too.

“I will have the same as you, Madoka.”

“I’m not feeling very hungry.”

[CALL AND RESPONSE - Medium 10] Come up with an order on your own

CALL AND RESPONSE - [Medium: Failure] - You’ve eaten here before, you’re pretty sure. Was it Loop 32… no, Loop 12..? No, wait, it was on the first Friday of Loop 68. No… that’s not right. You’ve never eaten here before. In a stunning display of incompetence, you have taken Madoka on a date to a restaurant that you have never experienced before.

THE ANGEL - It’s okay, Homura-chan! I don’t mind if you haven’t eaten here before. Remember what real me said, Sayaka thinks this place is good! And even if it’s not perfect, that’s okay, just spending time with you makes me happy.

THE CRAVEN MASSES - Sayaka has raised her blade against Madoka 16 times before. You should leave this restaurant and kill her. It would only take-

FALLING SAND [Trivial: Success] - 1528 seconds on average.

CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - It can be cut down to 1243 seconds with an expenditure of 2.7% of total magic pool.

THE CRAVEN MASSES - Exactly. Do it in front of her family and make it bloody. Kyoko would likely try and stop you, but even she isn’t immune to bullets. And if Mami comes for revenge, well, you know the exact words you could say that would destroy her, don’t you?

THE ANGEL - A-Ah, I think that’s a bit of an extreme reaction, Homura-chan!

HUMAN SHELL - Your heart rate is increasing. Stop that. You have absolute control over your flesh. Act like it.

MOE INSTINCT - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT ARE WE GOING TO ORDER MADOKA IS GOING TO LAUGH AT US

WITCH’S NIGHT - Is… is this a trap? Walpurgis may be defeated, but you know that the stage witch never truly ceases its show. Perhaps this restaurant is a part of the stage?

MADOKA - “Um, are you okay, Homura-chan?”

MOE INSTINCT - OH GOD SHE HATES US

“I’m going to kill myself.”

“I’m so sorry. Would killing myself make you feel more comfortable?”

Isn’t there anything else you can say?

YOU - Isn’t there anything else you can say?

THE DEVIL - Come on, Homura. It’s high time you do it. Really, this is just another in the long, long chain of failures that make up your life. The only way to fix it is to kill yourself.

CLOCKWORK PRECISION - Target: Located on right ring finger. Target is not moving. Chance to hit: High. Plan: Retrieve pistol. Aim pistol at ring. Pull trigger.

THE ANGEL - Oh my god, please do not do that!

"I am going to kill myself."

"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."

"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"

There. There has to be better options than this.

YOU - There. There has to be better options than this.

MOE INSTINCT - I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE. THE ONLY RECOURSE IS IMMEDIATE SUICIDE. THAT’S THE ONLY WAY MADOKA WILL LOVE YOU AGAIN.

"I am going to kill myself."

"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."

"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"

YOU - “I’m going to kill myself.”

MADOKA - Madoka’s face twists, her eyebrows raising slightly in shock. Whatever response she was expecting, it was clearly not this.

GRIEF SYNDROME [Challenging: Success] - IF MADOKA WAS A MAGICAL GIRL, HER SOUL GEM WOULD FILL BY A QUARTER HEARING YOU SPEAK THOSE WORDS. THAT WAS CRUEL, HOMURA.

MOE INSTINCT - WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?

MADOKA - “I’m so sorry, Homura-chan. Please don’t do that. I… I really care about you and so does everyone else.” Madoka’s eyes fill with tears as she speaks. She hugs you.

DAMAGED MORALE -4

CALL AND RESPONSE [Trivial: Success] - Quick, tell her you were making an edgy joke that didn’t land. You’ve gotten away with that before, you’re pretty sure.

SPACE-TIME MASSACRE - Twelve quarter shifts left and two up from your current space-time position, and there’s a Japan that it’s actually illegal to not commit suicide in.

FALLING SAND - You’ve been seated for 5 minutes and 32.5 seconds already and still have not ordered. Mami has requested your presence at her apartment in 3.4 hours from now.

TEA WITH MAMI-SAN - She wants to help you find a hobby. She’s really worried about you, you know.

STRINGS OF FATE - You can feel Madoka’s heart beat in sync with yours as she holds you. Everything will be alright, as long as you follow the beat.

THE ANGEL - Yeah! It’s okay Homura-chan. Just explain what’s been going on and Madoka will understand. And then order something, it’s important to eat a full meal!

YOU - “Ah, sorry Madoka. I was… overwhelmed with choice, and my… brain spit out the first thing it thought. I am not planning on killing myself.”

MADOKA - “Um, I think we should probably talk about this more, Homura-chan….”

CALL AND RESPONSE - Ask her a question to change the topic. It’s worked in three different loops, it should work here.

RATIONALITY COMPLEX [Trival: Success] - Ask her if she wants to try anything else and then order that for yourself. This will accomplish your goal of deciding on what to order, as well as showing Madoka that her desires are important to you.

YOU - “Is there anything else you’d like to try, Madoka? We can share our dishes.”

MADOKA - “Uh, okay Homura-chan. Maybe get some tempura?”

Order 10000 yen worth of tempura

Order 1000 yen worth of tempura

Order 100 yen worth of tempura

YOU - “Excuse me waiter, give me 10000 yen worth of tempura.”

HUMAN SHELL - Calories and magic are just two different types of fuel. Feed me and control me.

THE ANGEL - T-that’s probably too much, Homura-chan. Maybe you can sneak some into your cool shield, though!

MADOKA - Madoka doesn’t say anything, but her eyes do bulge out slightly. She gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder and smiles at you.

HEALED MORALE +1

RATIONALITY COMPLEX - Displays of wealth like this can broadcast value to potential mates. This will increase your value in Madoka’s eyes, furthering along one of your goals.

THE ANGEL - I think you should just focus on enjoying the food, Homura-chan. Take a break, everything is okay.

Thank you.

Why don’t you hate me?

YOU - Why don’t you hate me?

THE ANGEL - Because I care about you, Homura-chan! And besides, you hate yourself far too much already.

Thank you.

THE ANGEL - You’re welcome! Now, please, enjoy your meal with real Madoka. She loves you a lot too, you know.

[reignpage]

Munchkins

The different ways the JJK men eat pussy

Gojo: like it’s a game

He thinks shit be funny when it’s really not. Fingers spreading your lips apart, he’ll coo at the quivering of your hole. 

“Oh look, she’s talking to me,” he mutters to himself, grinning. “Hi, pretty baby. Whatcha trying to say? ‘You’re so handsome, Satoru?’ And, ‘You’re the best lover I’ve ever had?’”

When he continues his little conversation, you know he’s genuinely getting lost in his own delusions. A whimper of frustration leaves you. That grabs his attention and with a mock gasp of shock, he presses an apologetic kiss right on your clit, sucking as hard as he can to really get his point across. 

“Awwwwww, baby. I’m sorry. Bet you were feeling left out, huh? Okay, okay. Time to get serious.” 

And then a wide tongue is splaying flat against your entire pussy, spreading your wetness around as he motorboats your sloppy cunt, humming a breathy laugh at the juicy sounds that he elicits. “How’s -ha- this? Better? God, you taste so good. Been eating pineapples, haven’t you?”

“S-shut up, Toru,” you groan. 

“Hey, don’t be mean,” he grumbles with no real heat. 

The orgasm that washes over you is powerful and you can’t conjure a single word out even when he quizzes you like an idiot, rubbing in that he's made you feel so good, you're left silent and dumb. “What day is it? No, I don’t think it’s ‘oh fuckkkk.’ Let's try so something easier. Can you recite pi to the one hundredth digit, baby? No? Yeah, me neither. Aw, you look so pretty. I should take a picture, shouldn’t I? Okay, okay, hold that face. Gonna get a camera.”

Geto: like it’s a test

“Come on, pretty.” He pulls away from your cunt, lips glistening with your juices and you have to fight the urge to close your legs from sudden embarrassment. “You’re pulling my hair too hard. How am I supposed to give you all my attention if you’re pulling me away, hmm?”

Lying down on his stomach, he’s placed himself in the most comfortable position for him to do everything it takes to bring you pleasure. And just as he said, locks of his silky black hair pool through your fingers as you tug every time the tip of his tongue rolls your bundle of nerves with expert precision. 

“Sorry, Sugu,” you find the clarity to whimper out. 

His arm reaches out to grip a breast and the weight makes his eyes roll back. As if punishing you for distracting him, he pinches a nipple and shoves his tongue inside your pussy, feeling the gummy walls clench down. Your back arches. “’s okay, pretty girl. Just —mhm so well-behaved— focus on the pleasure, alright?”

"Oh, Suguru, I can't. S-so good, oh yes, right there."

A thumb finds its way onto your clit, rubbing in precise and controlled circles; he knows just how you like it. Your moans get louder and louder. “Close? Tell me what you need. Talk to me,” he pleads. 

The smile that fills your blurry vision after a wonderful orgasm blinds you. His eyes explore your face, seeking every twitch and sigh like it fuels him, and maybe it does because his hard, leaking cock pushes in slowly, massaging every pleat inside your pulsing walls. 

“Let me hear more of your beautiful moans. Fuck, I can’t get enough of you.”

Choso: like an addict

You’re kneeling in the living room, pulling fibres from the plush carpet. Shorts pulled down, you can do nothing to stop the man moaning behind you as he sucks your clit with no technique. His tongue is venturing all the way down and all the way up, chasing after the taste of you. 

“Fuck! Choso, w-what is wrong with you?”

The day had started like normal. On your way to the kitchen, he murmured something about how good you smelt, and, without warning, tackled you onto the ground. This is so typical of him; he eats you out in the shower, against the front door, the window, in the car, in a park, and so on and so forth. And he does it all shamelessly.

“Sorry, I just -mhm- c-couldn’t help -ah so good- myself.”

It’s wet everywhere and not just from the waterfall of juices streaming out of your pulsing hole. Choso’s drooling —no, practically slobbering— all over your thighs, lapping up every drop. Despite all the times he’s tasted you, he can never get enough. 

Most days you have to fight him off, throwing pillows at his face and swatting his wandering hands even when he pouts and asks, “But why?”

And when you cum, mind completely blank as you pant desperately, face firmly planted on the carpet as his hands hold your hips up, his mouth doesn’t stop. 

“Ah, can I have one more?” He presses his cheek to your slit with a squelch and smooshes it, enjoying the heat against his clammy skin. “Please?”

You roll your eyes.

"No, don't crawl away. That's not nice. Oh, do you wanna do it on the kitchen counter? Okay!"

Toji: like a big meanie

“God, she’s talkative today, ain’t she?”

In his defence, you deserve this. He had just come home from a long day being a killer for hire and fell on the bed with just a grunt. You should have let him rest, you knew that, but in your defence, he’s sexy as hell.

Literally walking sex. 

“Y’r soaking the bed like a slut, look at you. Didn’t you grow out of this habit, ma? What kinda example you trying to show to our kid?”

His fingers are pummelling inside your pussy, curling against your G-spot without mercy. The pressure he’s building inside rivals the vacuum of his mouth on your clit. “Just had to climb up and sit on my damn face, didn’t ya? Couldn’t keep it in your pants? What? I don’t give it to ya enough? No, ‘course not, cause this dirty pussy always needs to be stuffed full, doesn’t she?”

There’s no particular rhythm to your grinding, and your desperation makes the corner of his scarred lip tick up. When you look down, your eyes meet his and the wink he sends you drives you over the edge. 

“That’s a new record ha. Must have been pent up, poor baby. Good thinking taking what you want when you need. Proud of ya, kid.”

Out of breath, you ask with a little shame, “You're not mad?”

SMACK!

Your asscheek is burning from the slap and you fall down on the bed with a ‘fuck you!’

“How long have ya known me, dumbass? I could be bleeding from a bullet in the chest and I’d still let you ride my dick.”

Nanami: like a man in love

“Sweetheart, are you sure I’m not distracting you?” 

For whatever reason, your husband still feels guilty about his desire despite all the years you've been together. Watching you slave away at the stove was apparently a stimulating sight. In his own Kento way of saying ‘thank you,’ he had cuddled up behind you, pressing kisses on your neck with his hands wandering down your curves. 

Moaning, you do your best to stir even when his face is shoved in between your thighs, suckling on your pussy from behind. “Ken, you silly man. Of course you’re —ngh!— d-distracting me but it’s a good —oh, Ken— distraction, d-don’t worry.”

“Really? Oh, that makes me so happy, darling, because I really couldn’t hold on any longer.” Even when he’s being absolutely filthy as he forces naughty squelches out of your sensitive pussy, he’s being so sweet — occasionally, he lays kisses on your clit, whispering praises like he’s spell-struck. “My lovely wife. My beautiful wife. My darling love.”

His warm breath and his even warmer words pushes you to the light and you’re spasming in his hands and on his mouth. 

“That’s it, honey. Such a good girl. How did I get so lucky?”

Then, sweaty and elated, he stands to full height and smothers you in a kiss. Distantly, you hear the click of the stove before you’re carried away, bridal-style to your bedroom. Your giggles makes him smile and, when he lays you down gently on the bed, he takes you in with a sparkle in his eyes. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Let me show you my sincerity, sweetheart.”

Sukuna: like a liar 

When you had wandered into the garden, you hadn’t expected that you’d get pulled to the side, off the path, and pushed against a tree. Before you can process anything, your lips are being devoured by his — sharp teeth, unforgiving lips, and a growl echoing in your mouth. 

A big hand worms its way through your layers and tears off your flimsy panties with one yank. Just as the cool breeze meets your slit, a palm covers the entire area. 

“Kuna, w-what are you doi—Ah, fuck!”

A long and wet tongue prods its way around, rolling your clit with reckless abandon. You hear both mouths, from his face and his hand, growl in satisfaction at the taste of you. “I could sense your growing need, woman. It was overwhelming. And as your king, I must fulfil my duty and grant you one moment of pleasure. Rejoice in my benevolence.”

That’s definitely not the case since you were thinking of nothing but what to cook for dinner but you know him; he hides his desires with what he knows best. 

Deceit. 

“I’ve barely done anything and look at you, writhing like a worm. How pathetic,” he snarls. Sukuna kisses your lips the way he eats your pussy: like he’s desperate and hungry — positively starved.

Your orgasm is practically forced out of you, taken like it was always his to begin with. Deep in the back of your mind, you hope no servants have wandered near, or hell, stepped foot in the garden at all because your moans and whimpers were unreserved.

“Your moans are grating on the ears. Try to do less squealing like a mouse when you take both of my cocks, woman.”