#on the other hand? the answers have only given me even more to think about both on how the ending would have played out

[rauferes]

I've read a couple fics that feature Emmrich with erectile dysfunction, and I've been turning that version of him around in my head ever since. I think it would hit him particularly hard when he's on the receiving end of oral sex. (Truly ironic, given how enthusiastic he is about giving.) It's easily self-reinforcing-- each time that nerves and overthinking make him soften, it only makes him more apprehensive for the next time, until he avoids trying at all, redirecting his partner every time.

He's a patient lover, knowing how delicious it is to savor, to go slow-- but has that care ever been extended to him, before?

It's Rook who insists, settling between his knees even as he starts to fidget.

"Oh, darling, you don't have to," Emmrich tries.

"Oh, do you not like it?" Rook asks, genuinely curious.

Emmrich licks his lips. "I-- I do, but--"

The conflicted desire in his eyes is enough invitation for Rook. He makes a choked sound as soon as their mouth closes on him, hips jerking a little (which he apologizes for immediately, despite Rook's hum of approval.) Rook's clever tongue teases his frenulum and he bites down on a knuckle, hard, trying not to whimper.

It doesn't last-- it never does. When he softens, inevitably, Rook pauses long enough to ask what other techniques he likes better.

Emmrich wilts. "What you're doing is lovely. Very much so. I just-- I find it a bit difficult to, ah..."

He fiddles with his grave gold, unable to look at them. Unable to admit his shame.

"But are you enjoying yourself?" Rook asks. "Is it still pleasant?"

Emmrich's gaze flicks away, flushing.

But Rook can read the answer on his face: yes.

"Feel free to stop indulging me whenever you like, then, but--"

Emmrich's gaze snaps back to them. "Indulging you?"

Rook shrugs, smiling crookedly.

"What can I say? I like how you feel."

They press a kiss against his hipbone. Emmrich gives a little gasp, despite himself.

"I like how you sound," Rook murmurs, brushing light fingers over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. "I like how you taste."

Rook takes him into their mouth again, still mostly soft. They roll their tongue over him, and Emmrich's spine curves, bowing low over Rook's lowered head. The sensation is-- shockingly intense.

Rook teases, gentle and slow, exploring his soft cock thoroughly. They pull ragged noises from him, moans and shivers. They take him apart slowly, clearly relishing every moment. When they find a twist of their tongue that makes Emmrich cry out, they hone in, repeating again and again. Their warm, firm hands press against Emmrich's trembling thighs.

"Rook-- oh--" Emmrich pants, tangling his hands in their hair. "That feels so-- oh, goodness..."

Rook gives a possessive growl. And suddenly Emmrich is coming, still soft, pleasure lighting up his body in a flash.

He's still processing, his mouth a little open, when a smug Rook climbs into his lap and cuddles him, nuzzling against his neck.

"Oh," Emmrich manages to say, clinging to them. "I didn't realize that was-- an option."

Rook smirks against his skin, valiantly does not make a joke about old dogs and new tricks--

and then proceeds to blow him as often as they can get away with for months.

[mybworlds]

The rescue

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Warnings: use of you, you’re a mermaid, I won't give any details except for nice long legs and very long hair, nudity, violence (a little?), use of both pov. If I missed smt please let me know.

Summary: You and Marcus face death, but something unexpected happens to everyone, including the power of Rome.

Masterlist

A/N There’s one chapter left and I’d like to thank you for all the support you have given to this story, thank you, thank you so much 😊 Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️

You spend the night sitting, your hands clasped, your head resting on his shoulder. You talk, talk, talk.

You also ask him about Lucilla's fate and he remains silent for a long time, almost as if he hadn't heard you, then he answers you in a whisper telling you that they had no mercy on her, they executed her like any other criminal in the arena so as to show the people what it means to go against them. At his words you cling even more to him, you know he wasn't in love with her, but you imagine that knowing that a person you knew is dead could be upsetting and you imagine that even a strong and hardened person like him could have been shocked by it.

“I wasn't in love with her,” he clarifies, “but… losing her, it upset me. I should have done more for her.” He confides in you, you stare at his profile so masculine so pronounced and you like him more and more, if possible “But what really shocks me is that there’s nothing I can do to get you out of here, to save you.”

“I chose my destiny long before we were even here in this place,” you remind him.

“I know.” he murmurs turning slightly towards your face “Why me?” he asks you.

“Because I saw beyond your war-scarred face, because I saw you and understood that you were not cruel like the others, because you give importance despite this unjust world to feelings like pity and love and because all of this makes you a wonderful person, Marcus.” you answer him, intertwining your fingers with his.

“You are such a pure soul..” he tells you, but he can't finish the sentence as you hear footsteps getting closer and closer, then the prison door opens and finally two soldiers come to open the door to your cell. A soldier drags you away without saying a word or telling you anything about what might happen to you, “NO, LET HER GO!” Marcus shouts as he tries to get up and escape the warrior's grip, but the other one pushes him to the ground again and there you see him punching your beloved in the face, kicking him in the stomach, then in the midst of this violence the man who had grabbed you by the arm, drags you away. As you walk away you only hear the muffled moans of your Marcus.

“Hold on,” you yell at him, almost making a move to turn back to him.

The soldier yanks you violently again, throwing you against a wall and pulling out a dagger aimed at your throat, the man looks you in the eyes for a long time and then hisses through gritted teeth, “Stop fighting, there's not much you can do for General Acacius anymore. There is for you. Give them what they want and save yourself more suffering.” His words seem to be an advice, a terrifying advice rather than a threat.

You look at him in disbelief, as if you don't understand the nature of that suggestion, how can a man who dragged you away from your beloved try to help you in some way?

“Listen to me,” he insists, looking at you with his dark eyes.

“Please help me.”

“I can't do more.” he replies. “My life and that of my family are at stake.” He adds in a grave tone. “Do as I told you,” he tells you before continuing on your way to a place unknown to you for the moment.

You think back to the man's words, you don't know if Marcus was killed down there in that dungeon, if you won't soon come to a horrible end. No one will save you this time, it's the thought that most often pops into your mind.

The soldier then leaves you in the hands of another man who looks decidedly creepy and evil. Those small, dark eyes scare you, as do his big, stubby hands that grab you forcefully and drag you away.

The prison guard leads you along a very long, narrow and steep corridor, the light becomes increasingly blinding as you get closer to what you imagine is an exit, then someone opens the door and you find yourself outside in a forecourt that to your eyes appears to be very large and full of sand stained with fresh blood. Horrified, you try to escape, but the monster that led you up there grabs you even more violently and pushes you outwards, making you hit your head violently on the ground. For a while everything is muffled, everything is reduced to a pale buzz, your eyes are closed from the pain and confusion you feel.

No one feels sorry for you, you think. No one tries to protect you or reaches out to help you stand up.

Slowly you begin to hear the voices of the crowd again although you can't make out what they're saying, it almost seems like thunder because what you hear is so loud, it feels like you're in the middle of a tornado, everything seems to be spinning senselessly around you.

“Behold what happens to a flower torn from its meadow!” you hear someone shouting in the distance, it seems to you to be Geta's voice, but from there you are not at all sure, it could also be Caracalla or someone else, impossible to say for sure.

You try to stand up, but it's so hard. You can barely sit up and look at the hundreds of faces watching you.

“A flower that could have borne much fruit and which instead was incinerated by the madness of those who did not believe in the goodness of that field, a flower whose seeds could still be sown and could bear flowers and fruit and instead...” you don't really understand the meaning of his words, you just know that you’d like to escape and instead you can barely stare at the sky covered by timid clouds above your heads.

“I’ll give it one last chance, but not before I give it one last watering!” you hear again, while this time you clearly hear someone laughing.

Do they laugh at the words they hear?

Are they laughing at you?

Do they laugh at your misfortune?

The doors of a gate open and when you turn around you see Marcus being dragged there in chains. His gait is decidedly limping, he has a swollen and purple eye, and there is a cut on his forehead, cheek and lower lip from which blood is gushing.

“The two lovers and traitors of the Empire.” presents you the same voice.

“Death to them!” someone shouts, “Long live the emperors,” someone else exclaims.

You search Marcus's eyes, barely lifting a hand as if you wanted to touch him even though you know you're too far away for any kind of contact. He's watching you, you see him open his lips as if he wants to talk to you, but he's too far away for you to hear him, you see him mouthing something like don't be afraid, I love you, but you're not sure.

“Kill ‘em!” you hear someone shouting again, but now you focus on his face, you observe it as if enraptured, as if you knew deep down that that was the last face you’d ever see. You are calm, you know that at least in another life you and Marcus will be together, happy; when suddenly your loved one's face contorts into an expression full of fear and then all of a sudden something or someone drenches you completely and you seem to come back to the present.

The crowd laughs. They laugh, they laugh a lot. They are loud. You, on the other hand, realize that the water has touched you and that is when you realize that there is no hope for you. You look at Marcus scared, your heart pounding in your chest, your eyes widening in terror, but then you realize that apart from fear, nothing has happened.

Did your aunt make fun of you?

Marcus also looks confused, you are happy, but both confused.

“My beautiful flower, you still have the chance to bloom, I’ll show you what happens to traitors, for them there is no chance, no redemption” Geta sentences “bring him here before us,” orders the emperor.

The men do as told and Marcus is carried almost to the centre of the arena, in line with some stands occupied by the twins.

“General Acacius, you’ve been found guilty of high treason against the crown. Therefore, the punishment is death.” Geta adds solemnly, the crowd is buzzing and you are not sure if they are in favor of this sentence or if they are against the man's words “Do you have any last words to say?” asks the man, looking down at the prisoner with an air of superiority.

You watch with eyes wide open in terror as Marcus observes his people, you hear them grumbling, some in his favor, some against him. You wonder how his own people do not react towards Geta and Caracalla and how they can allow a brave man who was always in favour of the people to die and stand there and watch without reacting.

His gaze falls on you, his dark eyes search yours, you are afraid, you feel a sensation of cold, deep terror, you observe his face distorted by the beatings he suffered, blood at the corners of his mouth, a bruised eye, then Marcus speaks “I’m a soldier. I am and I will always be. I hope that one day my death can..”

“Keep it short, traitor,” Caracalla interrupts him, rising from his seat as if to speed up the execution.

“Save her.” he says in a deep, resolute tone of voice as if he doesn’t allow for any reply to what he said and he says it while looking the twins in the eye and then looking back at you.

You shake your head in terror, you hear a noise like something stretching in the distance, you run towards Marcus as if to shield him, sensing what is about to happen to him. You hold him tight, terrified of letting him go. Marcus, however, pushes you away from him abruptly, making you fall. You are shocked by that gesture, you want to protect him...

You are even more surprised when you see him moving even further away from you, right in those moments you hear many hisses in the air and then these hisses materialize into arrows. Arrows pierce Marcus repeatedly in the chest, back and legs.

“NO!” you scream at the top of your lungs. Marcus has his back to you so you don't know what his expression is right now, but you see him fall to his knees, as he continues to be mortally wounded “STOP,” you shout “STOP, PLEASE!” you continue, somewhat awkwardly reaching Marcus who has fallen onto his back. The arrows have finished hitting him, “Marcus, Marcus,” you call as you lift him up and lay his head on your thighs, his eyes are closed, his lips parted, “Marcus,” you whisper, caressing his bleeding and swollen lower lip.

Your eyes fill with tears knowing that you can't help him, knowing that your loved one's life is slipping away through your fingers and that you can do absolutely nothing to hold it back, you can't do anything.

“M - Marcus,” you moan trembling, his breathing is getting weaker and slower. He’s dying, you can't do anything for him. The man you did all this for, the man you risked everything for, including your life, is leaving you forever. The expression on your face contorts in pain, tears stream down your cheeks and fall onto your beloved's face.

You place a trembling hand on his chest, an arrow is right there next to his heart, a sob escapes you and you squeeze your eyes shut, a scream escapes you along with more tears that copiously wet his face, his neck, his chest. His breathing stopped.

Slowly you remove the arrows that pierced his chest, his back, his legs. Marcus has left you. He's dead. The thought is unacceptable, but the situation is like this, he's gone.

You pull him with difficulty until his face rests on your chest, you caress his cheek ruined by the tortures he previously suffered. “MARCUS!” you scream in pain, looking up to the sky, you don't know which gods of the sea to pray to, who to ask for help. Everything around you seems to have stopped, you hear nothing but your own screams of pain and your copious tears that wet the face of the man still pressed to your chest.

Then something totally unexpected happens. Marcus moves, it's almost imperceptible, but he moves. You lower your head in total disbelief. You see his eyes start to move from under his lids, slowly his chest begins to rise and fall, then he opens his eyes.

“Marcus,” you coo trembling, your hands shaking from the strong emotion and with equal joy mixed with confusion you bring your hand closer to his cheek which seems to be healing second after second. You are incredulous and absolutely speechless, you had no idea that what you read years ago in a manuscript, jealously guarded by your father, was real.

When your eyes meet again, he smiles at you, reaching out a hand to your face, “You saved me…” he whispers, caressing your cheek with his thumb “..again.”

You close your eyes and place your hand on his, then take it and kiss it softly.

But in that sweet bubble, slowly everything around you takes shape, color and noise again. The crowd is buzzing in disbelief at the scene they have just seen, someone points at you, then you hear Caracalla again and this time his words are directed at you, “She's a witch! The woman is not only his accomplice, but also endowed with mysterious and dangerous magical arts!” he exclaims, pointing at you. “Only the gods know what such a creature would be capable of!” he continues, inciting the crowd by continuing to define you as a sneaky, treacherous creature, capable of who knows what atrocities. Geta stands there silent, perhaps shocked by this part of you that is completely foreign to him.

Marcus slowly sits up, as three soldiers of the Praetorian Guard enter, fully armed and heading towards you, the man next to you starts to stand up, but you turn to him, holding him by the arm. He looks at your face with a questioning expression and then you shake your head weakly as if to tell him not to do anything and then he’s still very weak and above all you don't want anything bad to happen to him. Now the focus is no longer on him, but on you and you are ready to die to protect him and know that he's alive.

The guards drag you away from him, Marcus despite your nod not to move, does the same to try to save you from their grip and so, noticing the movement, one of the three guards steps back and violently places a foot on the man's chest, who, grimacing in pain, forcibly lies down again.

The two emperors descended into the arena and you were dragged before them. Geta seems shocked and as if he saw a monstrous creature before his eyes, he follows his brother almost by force. He barely glances at you, it's Caracalla who instead appears amused by you saying that you will entertain them, you don't know what he means nor do you care. You're ready to die for him.

“Oh, he will look.” It's Caracalla again speaking, he's in front of you and you don’t know what to expect. He smiles at you, but it's a crazy smile, it's a scary one.

Before you can register in your mind a possible move of his, the man with a quick and violent movement tears your clothes revealing you in your nakedness in front of everyone. You scream in surprise and shame, covering as best you can. You curl up in a ball, before hearing voices getting louder and louder, then another cold shower. Guards, supposedly on Caracalla's orders, continually throw water at you, causing you to fall back and slip several times.

Your skin feels like it's on fire this time, it's burning.. your screams of pain echo in the amphitheater, Marcus' voice screaming your name is so far away, that pain is so piercing, so sharp, it takes your breath away.. maybe you're dying.. you're dying knowing that Marcus will live. You hoped you could live with him, but that's not how things will go..

The voice of Caracalla telling the people “Here is a monster who is revealing her true nature.” you can barely hear him.

He sees you fall apart. Your strength is abandoning you and once again General Acacius can do nothing to save you, to wrap you in his arms and whisper to you that everything will be alright because it wouldn’t be the truth.

He tries to get up, but is continually knocked down by a kick, now by a push. Acacius has not yet regained his strength after... what he lived.

He's watching you lose consciousness and he can't shield you with his body to defend you, he knows, you told him what would happen to you if the water touched you, but why did nothing happen to you before and now it does?

He now sees you lying on your side, the water flows over your naked body and your long hair and as it passes it seems to set your skin on fire which becomes swollen.

Marcus is about to try again to reach you, when a horn in the distance interrupts the barbaric spectacle. Acacius recognizes them, they must be the men of the Praetorian Guard and the men loyal to him that he, Lucilla and some members of the senate had convinced to overthrow the power of the two tyrants.

The arena almost begins to shake, the people flee from the stands, the two emperors are carried away for their safety. There are only the two of you left in the arena and Marcus can finally come over and lift you slightly into his arms.

He calls your name, stroking your cheek with the back of his ruined hand, “Please, open your eyes. Talk to me.” He begs.

Your skin is getting colder and swollen second by second, your lips are parted, he sees them so parched.

“What should I do?” Marcus asks in a desperate whisper before kissing you on the lips.

You open your eyes with a confused expression as if his kiss had just saved you from death.

“What should I do?” he asks you again, holding you gently in his arms as if he wanted to give you his warmth.

“My father..” you murmur, struggling to keep your eyes open. “The sea..” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“What's it got to do with your father? Please, tell me how I can help you.” he insists.

You open your eyes again, “We have to.. get to the beach.. call my dad.. he.. he will hear you, scream.. scream loudly.”

“What’s his name?” he asks, leaning his face close to yours. You barely open your eyes and manage to whisper his name.

Marcus lifts you into his arms with great difficulty, what happened to you has greatly weakened both of you. The battle rages around you and Marcus would have rushed to fight under other circumstances, but not now, not when you are in this condition. The journey proves tiring and desperate, but Marcus doesn’t give up until the sand and gravel touch his feet.

There, Marcus shouts out the name you whispered in his ear. Once, twice, ten times, he has lost count of how many times he has shouted your parent's name.

He sinks to his knees in the gravel, his face contorted with fatigue and pain and fear of losing you. You're leaving him, he feels you.. he feels your body weakening in his arms and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

“My love,” he whispers, moving a lock of hair stuck to your temple, “I was completely incapable of protecting you… I should have done more… I – I…” all his words get stuck in his throat as he sees your head bowing more and more, your strength abandoning you completely.

Marcus screams that name again at the top of his lungs and this time something happens, out of nowhere the sea begins to ripple, the wind begins to caress your skin and suddenly out of nowhere a massive figure slowly emerges from the sea holding a trident.

Marcus doesn't know what to do or say, he’s completely stunned and amazed by such a sight. He doesn't know how to behave, he's not afraid, but he really has no idea what he should do or how to explain how to help you.

The figure emerging from the sea reveals himself even more imposing as it approaches Marcus. So you too came from the sea like this?

The man kneels down holding the scepter with one hand and with the other he touches your face with great sweetness, then he looks up at Acacius who doesn't know whether to be worried or calm about the look your father is giving him.

“My daughter,” he says in a barely audible whisper, then turning to Marcus he adds, “I will now cast the counter-spell that will save her.” Acacius nods “But in doing so she will return a mermaid in the depths with me. This whole story has proven that yours are two incompatible worlds. She will always be in danger and you... you seem like a strong man, but not strong enough to protect both of you from the dangers that she especially would run.”

Marcus still has one arm around your shoulders, caresses your face with his other hand, kisses you tenderly on the forehead and then says to your father, “Save her. If she has to be away from me to live, then take her away and save her.”

Your father nods and then lifts you into his arms and carries you with him, you become smaller and further away, then where you dived into only small ripples remain.

Acacius collapses to his knees, the pain of the sharp contact with the gravel barely registering, now he wonders if you will actually survive or if you will end up dying down there far away from him.

You saved him today, and he? What did he do?

He didn't even say goodbye to you, he didn't tell you I love you every time those three words were on the tip of his tongue, he didn't hold you close enough.

He didn't..

The noise and echo of the raging battle are barely perceptible. He who has taken part in dozens and dozens of battles, he who has always been on the front lines, today feels completely empty.

He lost everything.

His name, his home..

You..

Marcus Acacius feels lost and even the idea of fighting is completely indifferent to him, what's the point of fighting if he doesn't have the right motivations and ideals to do that?

Even taking away power from Geta and Caracalla no longer matters to him.

Cui prodest? (Who benefits from all this?)

When you open your eyes again, you feel completely dazed.

There are your sisters and even a nanny you haven't seen since you were just a few inches tall, are you dead?

You try to get up, but you realize that you are without strength and above all that you are a mermaid again.

But what..?

“Don’t worry, little girl. You’ve lost a lot of energy and blood,” the woman informs you, tucking the seaweed blanket around you.

“How long have I been here?” you ask confused, looking for your sisters’ faces.

“You slept for almost ten days. We were starting to fear the worst,” your sister Acqua replies.

“Why am I here? What happened?” you ask, closing and squeezing your eyes tightly as if to quickly register the fact that you don't know if Marcus is okay, how you survived, what you're doing there, and how you got here.

“Easy, little sis,” Melody, another of your sisters, replies, “daddy will be here soon and will tell you everything. In the meantime, let her rest.” she adds, inviting your other sisters and your nanny to leave the room.

“Melody?” you call her when it’s just the two of you. She comes over and sits next to you, “Am I dead?” you ask her bluntly still feeling very dizzy.

She takes your hand, “No, baby. You’re here, you’re with us, in your world.” Melody is silent for a moment, then looks into your eyes, “I love you and I would do anything for you because your happiness is the most important thing for me. But... I'm afraid for you, I'm afraid that you could be in serious danger being... up there.” you nod weakly “Well, what happened to you, happened when you were there.”

“It didn't happen because I was there, but because I accepted a dangerous potion. It could have happened here too.” you reply, trying to sit up, but you're still so weak, so you give up. “I love him, Melody. The feelings I have for him will never end.”

She sighs, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You are about to answer when you hear your father’s voice behind your sister, “This is not the time to think about this, my daughter. Now you just need to rest.”

Your sister Melody kisses your cheek and swims away, your father stays. When he’s sure no one can hear you anymore, your father approaches you, “How do you feel?”

“Tired, but fine.” You reply, “Father, what happened to Marcus?”

“Don’t you want to know how you got back here?”

“First I’d like to know about him. Is he alive? Is he okay?”

Your father smiles, “Yes,” he caresses your cheek, “he’s fine. He’s the one who called me. He loves you. He really does, you know?” Your heart pounds in your chest at the thought of Marcus, of how you feel about him, of how even your father understood it “He loves you so much that he gave up on you. He preferred knowing you were safe even if far away from him rather than keep you there and watch you die.” he tells you, caressing the contour of your face.

Your eyes fill with tears, “I wish I could tell him how loved I felt by him, how safe I felt with him. Always.” your voice trembles “I will never forget this.” you add “If I have to marry a newt you want, I will.” shy tears fly down your cheeks.

“Oh, my daughter…” your father lowers his head for a moment “I want you safe, you know that. But I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

You give each other a long, silent look full of unspoken words.

[unrav3l]

okay so. my take on Majima/Goromi/the gender queer subtext of his character.

i've met with an opinion that 80's Goromi wouldn't take place because Majima's use of drag is simply comedic and provocative. i do agree that if he wanted to pull off a drag perfomrance or even simply crossdress he could do it without making it look as campy as the Goromi we meet does. however.

i'm sure as hell that there are a lot of interpretations around Majima's sexuality and gender, i personally see him just as a queer person, open to any interpretations BUT the trans aspect is growing on me A LOT. when i say trans i dont mean full ftm/mtf transition as tbh i dont really care (yet. give me some time i'll get to it) if he's an amab or afab im looking more to the gender queer aspect of the character, the man we are given on screen.

Majima has a lot of connections to both feminity and transness. his connections to womanhood being often reflected in the way he has to put on constant act and role to please others or all the times he was forced into submission. Majima learns a lot how to manipulate others handing them the leash but still being the one to lead. it's also something that i think women tend to do - giving men the feeling of power when they're actually the ones to control the situation. he's relationships with girls in Sunshine shows that he often judges the relationship between women and men from the outer perspective, like he doesn't really consider himself in any of the sides (but i guess it also depends on the answers the player chooses). of course there's also the Hannya motive, the embodient of unfiltred female rage he has carved onto his skin. he sympathizes with women a lot more than he does with men and we see that a lot.

possible take on his transness comes from the complete isolation and all the facades he puts on. a huge part of Majima's character is the way he creates his image through his body. i've spoken before about the snakeskin jacket being possible active choice to immedietly let others know he's one wild bastard but we also know that the jacket is a symbol of the mad dog, the perfectly created dehumanising persona. he let's other see what he wants them to see, he doesn't really expresses himself. we see in PYIH that he's not fond of the unnecessarily scary image and "manly man" others take him for. he's funky, he's both rough and gentle, he's queer. in this very game we can see how his body language shifted, how the way he walks changed when he's put out of that hyper manly society. goro's steps are less wide, he sways a bit, his entire walk, whole movement is more smooth.

so like. we see that it is somewhere inside of him and only when he doesn't remember he's been hiding it it actually shows. therefore what if Goromi is actually mockery of his own feelings? what if he takes drag as another way to make himself invalid, unserious and wry?

don't want to sound stereotypical but feminity is often associeted with compassion and emotions, the very things majima's facade seems to completely block out of the way. he's a man of contrast and duality, thats why i think the she side of Majima's character is actually all the repressed emotions. it's as when he's a man of Tojo he's not allowed to feel. this might be another thing leading us to why Kiryu has such a strong hold on him. cause Kazuma is affectionate, he's a caring parental figure AND the empitome of masculanity. Majima didn't have a chance to become like that probably because of the events in 1985. they peeled it off him. the hole created someone he didn't know, turned him into someone he was never supposed to be.

there goes the shaved look in PYIH being called cabaret manager make up implying there's more to it than simple lack of facial hair. something. something about fresh out of torture Majima using make up, using gender expression as the only connection to any of the feelings and emotions he had pre-hole. and something about Majima leaving it all behind after y0, after the events starting his entire negative development and mad dog persona. then again, kiwami Goromi as mockery of his trauma and dehumanisation of his true self. then again im going crazy because of him. the contrast he puts to Kiryu, the way he wants to show Kazuma this somewhat humiliating to masculanity creation that Goromi is and Kazzy being just... wow Majima i didn't know you had that in you. Kiryu is chill, he doesn't judge, he doesn't think it makes him any less of who he is. and going back to what i said at the beggining, i think that Majima could turn into the most gorgeous woman and would feel comfortable with that BUT. kiwami is imo the peak of his self destructive behavior. and i think Goromi could be read in that aspect.

i guess what i'm trying to say is i see his gender queerness as something that's very personal to him, as a bridge to all the repressed stuff he doesn't let anyone see. in the aspects of sexuality he's still very queer coded even as the mad dog but if it goes for his gender and feminine side i truly belive it touches something much more emotional and intimate.

[pleasuretrade]

seveneveral sentencesparagraphs sunday

tagged by @irregularcollapse !! :') i am so excited for more tenny and cyberpunk

here's some wild west au even though i literally just said it's on pause until the fall time after i actually go work with horses (not for fic research i'm not that crazy), just bc i already sent a bit of it to @swifty-fox today. long chunk since you'll all forget it by the time it actually sees the light of day <3

“That man’s somethin’ else.”

 Gale had been sitting on the chopping block, some ways off from the round pen, watching even though he shouldn't have been, when Alexander meandered over. Glancing up, Gale found him watching John too, a look that couldn't be mistaken for anything but respect and admiration. Gotdamn, Gale thought, even Alexander.

“Yeah,” Gale agreed reluctantly.

“You don't like him.”

“I never said that.”

“You don't got to say it. I can see it.”

 Gale shook his head. When they'd first met, Gale had felt that familiar kind of sickness for Alexander. A nagging kind of flutter in Gale’s blood. But he’d learned to ignore it until it went away, just like all the other times. A hope he still held out for with John, only two weeks into knowing the bastard.

“So what's so wrong with ‘im? All I see is a cowboy to the manner born,” Alexander said, teasing almost like Gale was a fool for not tumbling ass over front for the man like everyone else did.

 That, Gale had to think about. Not because there weren't a hundred reasons off the top of his head what's so wrong with John, but because having to say them out loud made him feel suddenly like a dunderhead. A kid who was mad just to be mad. All told, Gale should like John. He worked hard, he was nice enough to his men, and by god if he didn’t know how to work a horse.

 It must have been an hour that John had been in the pen with that Appaloosa. Gale had given it to him on a whim, maybe something childish in him wanting to give John a difficult animal in hopes he’d fail. It was selfish. Wouldn’t help John or the horse if he couldn’t make progress enough to get the horse range ready. But he’d been making fast work anyhow. Right now, they were doing some kind of little dance Gale had seen John do. The Appaloosa was bridled already, put up with it enough, and John was mostly just standing there staring at him. He’d wait for the horse to move, swing his neck over or take a step, and John would walk him in a tight circle, or push him back, tucking his neck down with the bridle, and they’d start all over again. It was strange, and gentle, and John hadn’t used anything but his hands and rope the whole time.

“I don’t like the way he talks to me,” Gale offered, finally.

John murmured something to the horse, smiled like he’d understand.

“What, cause he calls you Buck?”

 Was John calling him Buck even when he wasn’t around? Were his men starting to think of him as Buck, too? Calling him the name Bucky gave him? Gale caught the grimace on his face and put it away. John let the horse inch his neck closer, closer, ears sliding back, and then a threshold, some line was crossed, and John walked him in another circle.

“Part of it. No man should be calling his boss lil nicknames like that.”

 Alexander laughed. “Boss? Since when you call yourself boss around here?”

 Heat bloomed across Gale’s neck. He hadn’t thought of himself as the boss until John was involved. Even now, he didn’t feel like anyone’s boss but John’s. And John didn’t even care.

“It’s different with him. I already know you boys. He shows up, some guy I didn’t even pick, and acts like he doesn’t answer to anyone.”

 More laughing, this time a little softer, like Alexander was pitying Gale or something. “Is that why you’re mad? Old man Cleven chose some out of town cowboy without asking you first and you’re upset about it? Bucky listens just fine, and you know it.”

 But he didn’t listen just fine. He was still calling Gale Buck, still acting friendly with him when Gale kept giving him every reason not to. He watched John take a step toward the horse, and the horse take a step back, and John rub at his neck in reward. The heat crept up to Gale’s ears and cheeks, prompting him to stand.

not tagging anyone bc 1) i'm shy and 2) i feel like everyone has been tagged alreadyyyyyy ? ? ? ? ? ??

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just What I Need 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: In an effort to evade a creep, you walk head first into Bucky Barnes. (short!reader)

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: based on this

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The dress you choose is simple. Light pink. Nothing too over the top. You're not sure about what to wear on a date. It's your first one. Ever.

You flit around your apartment nervously. There isn't much room to do so. You keep knocking into things. Ugh. Why are you so nervous?

Maybe it's because of Bucky. You barely know him. He's a stranger. And he just told you to be ready. Oh, but how many men do you have even asking for a date?

The knock at the door makes you jump. Oh, it better not be Debbie telling you to turn down music you don't even have playing. You swear she imagines things to be unhappy about.

You shuffle to the door and slowly pull it open, keeping the chain in place. You let out a squeak of surprise.

"Bucky? How-- you didn't buzz up. Didn't I give you the number?"

He smirks and tilts his head as he extends an arm to lean on the door frame. "I have tricks," he assures you. "You ready, doll?"

You look at him. He looks nice. A black button-up and black pants; polished shoes that shine. His hair is parted and combed neatly. You can smell his rich cologne.

"I think," you say. "Just a minute."

You shut the door and spin away. You grab your purse and stumble to step into your shoes. Maryjanes with a short kitten heel.

You unhook the chain and open the door. Bucky pushes himself straight. "Thought you were about to ditch me," he chuckles.

"Sorry, no, I..." you lock the door and smile at him nervously. "Grabbing my stuff."

"Well, doll," he steps back and gestures to you with open hands. "Give me a spin. Let me see."

"Huh?"

"Well, you look good in the front. I bet the whole picture is even better."

You fidget and hook your purse on your shoulder. You wring your hands and turn slowly. Your body thrums with heat. You come to face him again, his teeth dug into his lower lip as he hums.

"Gorgeous, doll. And you're all mine."

He offers his hand. Your eyes flick over to the other; the one with the glove hiding metal plates. You quickly latch on. You don't want to be rude and you have no idea what you're doing. You'll let him lead the way.

He shifts his hand to grip yours. His hold on you is strong. He turns you down the hall. He struts proudly along beside your sheepish slink. You've never been the type to stand out.

Outside the building, the evening air is balmy. The street lights glow above and the moon beams down. He gestures along the sidewalk.

He stops you at a sleek black car. Even in the dim, you can see how the paint shines. It sticks out like a sore thumb in your neighbourhood. He opens the door and doesn't let go of you until you're in the seat.

He shuts the door gently and circles around to the driver's side. You take the subway, you walk, rarely you'll dole out for a cab. He has his own car. He must be well off. Is he as famous as he let on? Why didn't you look that up yet? Too busy, too anxious.

"Go for a nice dinner, get to know each other," he says as he turns the engine and it hums quietly. "Sounds like a dream getting to spend the night with a girl like you."

You blush. He's flattering. Almost too much. The praise is overwhelming and you don't want to come off ungrateful.

"Thanks."

"Thanks. No need. It's just the truth." He insists.

He pulls out from behind the car parked ahead of him. He steers with one hand as he snakes the other over the shifter. He grabs yours again. As he steers casually, his thumb rubs your knuckles. The touching is almost as smothering as his words.

You watch the streets pass by. You're not sure what else to do or say. You don't know if you've been to this part of the borough. He finds a spot and puts the car into park. He squeezes and reluctantly lets you go.

"Don't move," he commands.

He shuts off the engine and unclicks his seat belt. He gets out and hooks around, opening your door so swiftly it frightens you. You fumble to untangle from your seat belt and he once more opens his hand. You take it and he helps you to your feet. Your purse catches awkwardly on your hip as you stand and the contents spill onto the ground.

Bucky tuts and releases you. He bends to gather up your lip gloss, mascara, and your phone. He examines the last. His eyes drift up to yours.

"Wanna turn these off for the night? No distractions?" He asks.

"Oh, uh... yeah," you straighten your purse and reach for your things. He hands over the makeup but keeps the phone. He holds down the side button. You stare. It's another moment before he gives it to you.

He reaches under his jacket and slides out his phone. He taps the button at the top and puts it away again. He takes your hand just as you drop your phone into your purse.

"Come on. I booked us a table."

He tugs you up to the pavement. He pauses as he steps over the curb. He stops you as three men pass by, garbling loudly and laughing. He growls and shakes his head. He ways until they clear the space before he pulls you forward. "Punks," he mutters.

He guides you down the sidewalk to the hazy restaurant beneath a neon blue moniker. He lets you go and opens the door. He's so polite. You're glad to have him to lead you.

He enters behind you and greets the woman stood just inside with a tablet leaning on her bent arm, "hey, table for two. Barnes."

She scrolls through with a smile, "ah, yes sir, I see it here." She taps and lifts her head. "This way, please."

She strides through the doorway behind her and Bucky nudges you ahead of him. You follow her and he tails you. He puts a hand on your hip and keeps it there, as if not to lose you. His fingertips curl into you as he lets out a silty drone. He gets closer as you're shown to your table. He pulls out the chair as the hostess promises the quick arrival of a server and taps away on her heels.

You fold your hands on the table and look around. There's women in sparkling necklaces with beautiful chignons. You feel underdressed and underdone. You chew your lip.

Bucky sits. His own eyes scan the space and his forehead stitches. He huffs and arches a brow. You follow his gaze to another table. The blond man there shifts and quickly looks down at his menu.

"I didn't realise it would be so... fancy," you twiddle your fingers nervously.

"What'd you mean? You look wonderful, doll. The only girl in the room I can see," he pushes his shoulders wide and winks. "Not just me either."

He looks around once more. You don't understand what he means. You stare at the table.

"Something to drink?" He reaches for the smaller leather folio on the table.

"Hm, just water," you shrug. "I don't really... drink."

"Of course you don't, doll. You're a good girl. I know that," he considers the first page then closes the menu. "You don't want something fancier? Sparkling?"

"I think I'm okay," you assure him and wring your hands. Overly conscious of the frantic act, you pull your hands into your lap.

He clucks and his eyes narrow over your shoulder. He hunches slightly, almost defensively. He sighs.

You twist and look behind you. You just see tables with shadows. There's too much to focus.

"You notice it too, huh?" He rasps.

"Notice?"

"All these men. Staring at you."

"Me?" You squeak.

"Uh huh," he nods. "The minute we walked in."

"No, I don't think..." you eyes crawl over the table and find another pair. Brown eyes that seem to look above you, not at you, but you can't be sure.

"Right? I mean, that dress is amazing on you, sweetheart. Spectacular." He purrs. "But I'm not into sharing."

"Sharing... no. They aren't looking at me."

"Oh yeah? And what about that creep I scared off the other day? He wasn't following you?" He turns his blue eyes on you. "You don't get it, doll. You don't see the bad in people. That's why you asked me for help. You're this little mouse scurrying around in a city full of tomcats."

"What?" You shift in your seat as heat scalds across your chest.

"Look around then... tell me they aren't looking."

You gulp and do as he says. Shyly, you skim the space with your eyes. You frown and face him with a fruitless shrug.

"But... why?"

"Look, doll, you deserve the best. It's what I'm tryna give you but we can't stay here. I can't sit here and let them gawk at you. You're my girl," he grips the table and pushes his chair out. "Come on, we're going."

"What? Where?"

He sniffs and steps around the table. "Somewhere private. Somewhere safe."

He shows his palm and waits. You accept his hand and he pulls you up. 

A woman in all black approaches. "Oh, I was just coming for drinks--"

"No need. You can release the table," Bucky grits. "We're leaving."

"Oh, sir, I'm sorry. Is there something the matter?"

"Nothing you can fix," he shoulders past her and drags you with him. You give an apologetic wave and bow your head down.

He doesn't stop until you're outside. He heaves out a breath and his grip on your tightens. You squirm.

"I just couldn't stay. I'm sorry, doll. It's okay. How about we go back to mine, order in?" He turns to you. "Just us. That'd be perfect, wouldn't it?"

You stare up at him. Your nerves are still flickering. You can't believe what just happened. And after that man on the subway, you're starting to see these things more and more. You can't trust people in this city. It's lambasted across the newspapers and whispered outside your apartment door.

"Sure," you agree. "I just want to get out of here."

🤍

Bucky's building is nice. Just as nice as his car. Nicer than your place.

His life is so much bigger than yours...

He takes you up on the elevator as you bounce nervously on your feet. You never imagined your first date going like this. It isn't that you imagined one of those silver screen romances but the night has been unexpected for sure. You never thought you'd be going home with a man on the first night. It's not like that, but still.

He unlocks his door with a small fob on his keys. You just have an old-fashioned key. Another shortcoming. You feel smaller and smaller by the moment.

He holds the door and waves you inside. He flips on the lights as he follows you in. The high ceilings and open concept have you in awe. Windows stretching from floor to ceiling let in the night sky.

"Wow," you murmur.

"Bigger than I wanted, but the building is high security." He explains. "Got nothing to fill the space with."

It is a bit sparse but not any worse for it. He brushes by you, dragging his hand around your lower back.

"I got some sparkling juice. Buddy brought over this organic stuff. He can be a bit much," he chuckles. "What kinda food you into? Steak? Sushi?"

You watch him pass through a wide doorway. You can see right into the modern industrial kitchen. That's a style, right? It's like one of those decor magazines. Or a set for a photoshoot that's used once and torn down.

"Sure, juice sounds nice, thank you," you take off your heels before you trail after him. "I'll have whatever you like. I'm not picky."

"I wanna know," he insists as he searches the fridge. He takes out a long-necked bottle, "raspberry apple? Sound good?"

"Yeah, um, thanks."

He nods and moves along the counter. He's at ease. Not like at the restaurant. He was on high alert. You understand. You're much more comfortable at home.

He pours a tall glass of the juice and replaces the bottle on the fridge shelf. He grabs shorter brown bottle and pops the cap with his thumb. He takes the glass off the counter and offers it to you. You take it with another thanks.

"So, what do you usually get when you go out?"

"I don't eat out," you shrug.

"Aw, come on. Doesn't have to be fancy. Pizza? You know, when I was a teen, we lived off water pie. It's... different," he chuckles.

"Pizza's good with me," you sip the juice and your cheeks pinch.

"Whatever you say, doll. And I mean that. I want to give you everything you want so I don't want you just agreeing with me to agree," he nears and smiles as he reaches to pet your cheek. "A thing like you can ask me to get on my knees and I'll be kissing your feet."

You giggle in surprise, "please don't."

"Ha, alright," he shows his palm and swigs from the beer in his other hand. "Like I said, you're the boss."

[feelfreetopleasemexo]

Plot

You attend jujitsu with Gojo,

Your first week and you've been sent out with him to learn how to exercise cursed spirits

He leads you into an old abandoned house, scares you a few times, then a spirit attacks you

Takes you back and takes care of you

Next mission you go with Geto, you get kidnapped, but he can't save you

My first week at jujitsu highschool actually wasn't too bad. Don't get me wrong, school still sucks, but having a tall, slim but incredibly built teacher, with glistening white hair who always spouts the stupidest anecdotes, and chucks mochi balls at us if we get answers correct, made it feel a little less stressful, and little more fun. I was a little older than the other first years; they ranged from 16-18, and I sat at a delicate 24, not much older than the freshly born adult range, but scarily older than the 16 year olds it felt. Our teacher Mr Gojo seemed within our age range, which perplexed me, he was clearly the youngest teacher here.

After being told my ranking was Grade 1, I assumed I was a pretty high end sorcerer already, but very quickly found that, even though grade 1 used to be top dog, with the increasing amount of special grade curses popping up, the rankings might need to change soon...

After a particularly strenuous training session, I found Gojo waiting outside my door, leaning against it with a pastry hanging half in his mouth as he frantically texted on his flip phone.

"AH! There you are! Girl of the hour!" He tilts his head, smiling towards me, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He pulls the pastry from his mouth and shoves it in my direct,

"Wanna try? It's sooo goooood." I wave my hand and shake my head gently towards him,

"Maybe another time. I feel like I'm about to split in half after training today, did you need something?"

"Split in half ey?" I find his head lowering as if he was slowly looking me up and down, "Anyway!" He jumped up, excitedly, suddenly appearing next to me with his arm draped around my shoulder, "It's your lucky day! You get to go on a super secret mission with me, Saturo Gojo, the best in the bizz!" He proudly points to his chest as he says his name, laughing, as we begin our walk to the exit of the building.

"Me? On a mission already? Wait, with you as well?! What the hell did I do to provoke such an invitation?!.... Was it because I kicked Pandas ass yesterday?" My eyes dart along the floor as I'm deep in thought, trying to figure out why it was me who got invited to help Gojo out, even if it only meant watching him in action.

"I mean, yeah that's a good start, but I actually requested you for this mission myself. Well, I say I requested....they don't actually know you're coming with me yet, I'm sure Megumi has given Yaga the note by now though..." He smirked and pulled me in slightly closer to his side.

"I'm sure it'll all work out, who's gonna mess with you anyway now that I'm around?" He glanced at me from the side of his glasses, winking then throwing his head back as a laugh roared from his mouth. I rolled my eyes but couldn't keep the smile from creeping on my face.

We met ijichi at the entrance to the school and he drove us roughly 2 hours away of town, to a place that could only be described as 'disgustingly dissolute.' As we exited the car, Gojo got a call.

"Mhm, I'm here. Yeah yeah that's fine." He pauses, a look of concern washing over him, "Oh, he got the note then...yeah she's here. She's fine. You think I'd let anything happ...." The person on the other end of the phone had evidently hung up before he could finish his sentence. He snapped his phone closed and shoved it into his pocket.

"So yeeeeeeeah, Yaga ain't happy. He told megumi that he's instructed ijichi to turn back around and come collect you, buuuuut that's not gonna happen." He flashes a grin and grabs me by the arm, "How can he collect you if he can't find you? Hold on." We suddenly start running towards a block of dilapidated buildings and down a few alleys. We stop abruptly as he pushes me with one hand against the wall behind him. He quietly listens to see if ijichi bothered driving down this side of the buildings, but hearing anything, he looks back at me laughing quietly to himself, to find me staring wide eyed down at the fact he had his hand placed perfectly cradling my right breast. Jumping back and putting his hand on the back of his neck, he quickly apologised for the accidently grope.

"oh shit, sorry about that! It's usually me by myself, or if anyone HAS to come with it, it's usually Yugi...I'm not used to boobs getting in the way when I'm trying to hide someone from others eyeline....felt nice though, so, thanks for that little pick me up!"

"Errrr, anytime I guess?" I muster, trying to pretend I wasn't completely flustered. 3 seconds of grabbing my boob got me this shy and embarrassed? God he's gonna think I'm a virgin! I should've smacked his hand, slapped his face, put my hand on his pec imitating him... He could see the racing thoughts going through my mind as I stood motionless, eyes only darting along the floor again, but he quickly interruptes.

"Ooooh, so you're a thinker...I wish I was a thinker. I just say whatever I want and worry about thinking later. It usually works out." He leans down to look at me, peering over his glasses, clearly trying to crack a smile.

I giggle and brush my hair behind my ear, flattening the creases from my shirt, I ask where we had to head next.

"um...um..." He spins around, looking at the buildings surrounding us, "Oh! There! You see that creepy looking building that looks like it's been burnt to a crisp, and could collapse at a sudden wind? Yeah, we're headed in there." He walks gleefully towards the decrepit building, swinging his arms exaggeratedly beside himself, as I follow on his tail. I don't understand why he looks so cheerful going into a place like this, but hey, it meant I got to watch him work, I couldn't exactly complain about it not being a 5 star hotel now could I.

Once I see him slip gracefully in the half open door, I follow him and find he's nowhere in the room before me. It's an old, dusty grey room, filled with burnt boxes and half a rug that looks like it's been torn in half. Stairs to the back right look damaged and unclimbable, with a hole half way up that seems to dig deep into the foundations of the building, I look to my left and see a room leading to what I assume is a kitchen. I creep into the room, clinging to the wall behind me, careful of my footing and try to enter the room with the tile flooring, to which I find him swinging on a chair, feet on the table, holding a porno magazine sideways, displaying nothing but charred remained of a woman jumping in the air, presumably with her breasts out, covered in white, foam? Soap? It's so burnt you can barely make out the photo anymore.

"Enjoying yourself?" I blurt, as he nearly falls off the chair and drops the magazine to the floor. He kicks it over to me,

"Check out that hottie!" He exclaims, "Get it, cause it's burnt? You get it right?" I roll my eyes and let out a slight sigh,

"Yeah I get it, you're into smoking hot babes." I let out a small laugh as I turn back around and hear him now actually falling off the chair backwards, laughing loudly!

"I knew you'd get it! Cm'here!" He appears behind me, and puts his arm around my waist, pulling me slightly closer into him, "I knew you'd get my humour. We're gonna get along like a house on fire, ey." He whispers into my ear, letting out a proud exhale of air from his nose.

I roll my eyes and ask him what we're doing in a dusty ass house like this, and what made it a special mission in the first place, to which he jumps up and appears at the top of the stairs, proudly proclaiming, "We're here so I can show off!" He wanders off, searching the top floor, as I decide to check the bottom floor. I can hear his footsteps lazily falling on the floorboards above me, as I open a cupboard and books loudly crash to my feet.

"YOU ALRIGHT DOWN THERE?!" I hear panic in his voice, and before I can even reply, I hear a tumble down the stairs, and a second later see him leaning against the doorframe behind me, arms folded, covered in dust, and his glasses hanging half off his face.

"Are you alright there?" I laugh, clearly mocking him falling down the stairs, to which I see his eyes dart behind me.

"Don't. Move." He whispers, a sudden seriousness took over his voice. I stiffen my body and hold his gaze.

"Now walk slowly towards me. SLOWER. Slower. Good. Now just keep coming towards me. I've got you." His eyes widened as he slowly held a hand out to me, I reached for it trying to move as slow as physically possible, to which he suddenly darts at me and pins me to the ground, completely shielding me. I wince and brace myself for impact, and after a few seconds of nothing happening, I slowly open my eyes and see him staring down at me, smiling, still completely ontop of me.

"Spider." He laughs. His chest an inch from my face, I jerk forward trying to bite at his nipple, to which he forcefully uses his hand to push my chest down, now grabbing the left breast slightly.

"Nununuh, pervert. You've gotta wine and dine me first, before biting me anywhere." He flashes a smirk and lingers his hand still on my chest, before looking me up and down and then standing back up, offering his hand out to me.

"So you bring new girls here to grope and have your way with them then I take it?" I snark at him, ignoring his out stretched hang and getting myself up.

"Wait what? You think...?" He breaks out in laughter at the thought of me assuming he wanted to take me. He wipes a fake tear from his eye and rearranged his glasses. I pout and furrow my brow, looking away from him, annoyed that he thought my assumption was a bit too funny. To which I hear,

"why would I take you somewhere like here if I wanted you? My rooms so much nicer. Sound proof too." It sounded like he was whispering it directly into my ear, I could almost feel his hot breath as he said it. Flustered I turn my head to where I thought I heard it, and again, he's nowhere to be found.

I try to shake the fluster from my face, and head back to searching the room, nothing in here looks especially exciting, or suspicious, until I hear a stone hit the full-length window Infront of me. Peering out I see a figure in the alley opposite, hunched over, bobbing his back slightly up and down. I look closer and see puddles of red by its feet.

"Gojo, I think it's outside!" I shout, hoping he's still somewhere in the house, to which the figure abruptly stands bolt up right, as if it heard me, span around and bolted toward me at top speed. Before I could even stumble backwards, it crashed through the window and landed ontop of me, pinning me to the ground and snapping his jaws an inch from my face. I let out a loud shriek as I try to push the beast off of me, but it's sheer force felt like it was merging me with the floorboards. I tried to fling my head up to headbutt it, but it felt like I headbutted a concrete wall, I instantly lose consciousness from the force.

I awake to the fresh air hitting my face, as I realise I'm in Gojo's arms, carrying me out of the building. I look up at him and see a stern, concerned look on his face, as he rushes me to a car. I black out again. When I come too again finally, I'm in my own bed, in an oversized t shirt and trousers that were 100 times too big for me, with the sound of footsteps outside my door. It sounded like someone pacing outside my door, as I open my mouth to speak, an immense pain filled my brain as I grabbed at my head and groaned. The footsteps stopped, and my door flung open.

"You're alive! Thank god! The elders won't have my head for killing the newbie. Phew." An exaggerated sign of relief left his mouth as he realised I was now conscious again.

"As soon as we arrived back at Jujitsu, Shoko took care of you and instructed me to let you rest, and to keep guard outside your door incase you woke with a concussion and needed help." He seemed less cheerful than usual, as caution donned his beautiful face.

Still grabbing at my head with one hand, I tried to chuckle but nothing came out. I grabbed at my throat and felt deep lacerations run along my jugular. In a panic I sit bolt up right, clutching at my throat, trying to make any sound auditable.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he says, rushing to the side of my bed, placing his hands on mine and bringing them slowly away from my scars. " You'll be okay, Shoko said it'll take a few days for your voice to come back, but after that you'll be absolutely fine. That bastard got you good, I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop it before it got to you." Disappointment flooded his face, and I try to muster a smile, and shake my head. I use my fingers to sign "it's okay" in BSL, this clearly perplexed him. He looked down at my fingers, back at my face, back to my fingers and back to my face again, with an blank stare.

"Errrrr, what? I didn't think you knew about domain expansions yet...what the hell are you trying to do?!" He grabbed at my hands and pushed them into my lap, completely confused he looks back at my hands.

I try to giggle and make a pen and paper gesture as he frees my hands, to which he runs off and riffles through my draws to find. It's on my nightstand next to me, but he continues to dramatically find said pen and paper. Holding pairs of my pants, glancing at them and slightly giggling to himself quietly, like a school boys first time seeing girls pants, he throws them behind him and finally finds a pen and some scrap paper. Returning to my side, he passes them to me and after scribbling for a second, I shove the paper in his face that simply reads,

"GIVE THEM BACK."

I stare at his pocket and give the "give me" gesture with my hand, clasping it open and shut repeatedly. He pulls a bright pink thong from his pocket.

"Ooooh, how did THEY get in there. Heh." He chuckles, tilting his head sideways and giggling to himself.

I scribble again. 'Nice try.'

He jumps up from the side of my bed and rushes out the door. 'fuck me then I guess... Bye?' I start to scribble, hoping he'd look back before disappearing, but it was too late. Having left my door wide open, I try to get out of bed to close it and immediately topple to the floor. I couldn't feel my feet. I look up, defeated, and see him stood in my doorway again, this time holding 3 notebooks, about 10 pens, and 2 bags full of small boxes.

"As nice as you look on your knees Infront of me, what part of rest do you not understand?" He whisks me up in an instant and puts me back into bed. "Now, here's some food and plenty of paper so you can scribble your demands to your own personal Gojo nurse." He places his hands on his hips, comically striking a fanciful pose before catching a glimpse of a note on my bed out of the corner of his eye.

"hmm what's my next demand? Oh... Fuck me? Well...straight to the point I see." He smirks, holding the paper tightly in his hands. My face turns bright red as I scramble for the note books to explain that it was part of a previous note, to which he pulls them away from me and leans down close, looking at me from over his glasses. "Maybe when you're all better." He winks and clicks his tongue at me.

"Anyway, this nurse has to run some errands quickly, I'll be back in a little while. At least pretend to rest, I can see you're already pretty stubborn, but there's this new ice-cream flavour I've been meaning to try, and I know JUST the movie we have to watch later. Cya!" I lay my head back into the pillows and clench my eyes shut! Why did it have to be me that lost my voice? It would've been significantly funnier if it were him that lost his ability to ramble! Maybe then I could be his nurse....

After 2 days of Gojo doing his best at play pretend nurse, and sleeping next to me, ontop of the duvet every night in case I needed anything throughout, I finally managed to get my voice to come back!

"Fuck off" I lowly grumble, as my voice finally starts to become somewhat audible. It's a low, croaky husk, but it counts!

"Of course your first words are an insult to me." Gojo giggles, trying to help me stand but ultimately pushing me back onto the bed as I topple backwards.

"Seeeee, be nice to your nurse or she'll spike your meds." He taunts, looking down at me struggling to sit back up.

"Now that you're all better, I guess I can finally leave this smelly room and go back to my glorious kind size bed. Ooooh how I've missed comfort of any kind. These last few weeks of sleeping on nothing but ROCKS on the floor have ravished my good looks and fragile body!" He lays his arm over his forehead dramatically, pretending he's been at all hard done by.

"you....had...most....of....the...bed....every....night..." I slowly grumble, throwing a notebook at him, narrowly missing him.

"Yeah yeah, it might as well of been rocks on the floor, how do you sleep on that horrible thing?! I feel like I've aged 30 years already." He leans back, clicking his back and bends forward, stretching his lower back muscles, then waltzes to the door.

"Right, don't forget, if you need anything, ask literally anyone else from now on, Kay?" He smirks and with that, hes gone.

I won't lie, having his undivided attention and company these past few days has been nice. I find myself missing it already...a DVD case hurled its way towards me, hitting me in the middle of my forehead.

"Oh, and we're watching THIS tonight." I hear from the shadows of the corridor.

"At...least....close...the....DOOR..." I try to shout, grabbing at my throat.

After a terrible movie, I can barely keep my eyes open through, I find myself drifting off towards the last half of the film. When I wake I'm snuggled into Gojo's chest, with his head hanging back on my bedframe, snoring loudly. Careful not to wake him, I lay my head back down gently and smile at the position we've found yourself in.

A low, tired voice mumbles, "I saw that." Eyes still closed, smiling at me, I feel his arm pull me slightly closer into him, before his snoring continues.

The next few days I worked on getting my balance back and my voice better. Gojo had to go off on another mission, but promised to bring me back some fancy porno mags he finds at his next destination. I find myself sulking that I now had to sleep by myself again at night, and realized just how much I did miss his comforting snores. I turned to class the day after he left, finding comfort in the routine returning, I couldn't help but find myself looking towards the door every couple of hours. He hadn't returned in 4 days now, were his missions usually this long? Was our recuperation session too much for him, feeling bad about potentially leading me on, was he now avoiding me?

After a week of no Gojo, and my first chance at trying training again, I hear a chuckle from Geto as he watches Megumi wipe the floor with me, hardly holding back at all.

"You'd think he'd try to be more gentlemanly wouldn't you? Especially after what you went through, but alas, still a child with the trophy in his sights." Getos gentle smile made the pain ease slightly, as he gestured for me to walk with him.

"Now, please don't feel like you have to accept this invitation, especially not in your current state, but I spoke to Saturo and we both decided it would be good for you to get back out into the field." His calming voice settled any worries that arose from the initial statement, I agreed and asked him to assure me I was going to be a hindrance on whoever I was joining.

"Don't worry, you'll be joining me. It's only a Grade 3 curse, and even in your weakened state I'm confident even you could best it." He turns his head towards me, smiling gently still, and I accept.

"Perfect. We leave in 20."

"Right...now?" I confusingly express, looking down at my dirty uniform. "I don't think I have...enough time to change and....meet you back here in time." My voice still hurting to speak, but slowly regaining it's original tone.

"Don't worry, we'll only be an hour at best, I'm sure you'll be fine." He reassures me, and walks me to the archway, awaiting our car.

After a short ride, we arrive at the edge of the city, immediately Geto runs from the car and enters a building to our left.

"I don't know why he offered to take you to this, he's almost as fast as Gojo, and in your state, you'll be lucky to meet the door before he's finished absorbing it." Ijichi explains, a worried brow creases his forehead.

"I'm sure I'll..be fine." I whisper, stepping outside of the car. I walk towards the building Geto ran into and immediately get bombarded with curses spilling out of the now flung open door. They force me to the floor and trample me.

"Ambush!" I hear Geto scream, I hear ijichi's footsteps running towards me before a hand grabbing the front of my shirt rips me into the stampede and carries me away.

I try to scramble my way out of the mass, before darkness enshrouds me and completely blocks my view. A voice suddenly bellows from above me,

"Two men trying to protect you? You must be worth something." The mass parts like the red sea above me, peeling away a curtain of bodies to show a woman, floating above me. A slender woman with a low cut top, miniskirt and a long flowing black jacket, floated down towards me.

"I could have sworn Gojo and Geto were getting it on, but then I see him straddling you in that abandoned building, and I just thought....let me guess, Geto lets you share him on the weekends?" She smirked, tracing my jaw with a finger. I pull my face away and try to swipe at her, she laughs slightly and appears next to me,

"I wouldn't blame you yano, they're both so intoxicating aren't they! I can smell the aroma of love leaking from your pours, you're almost as in love as I am, now tell me....which one?" I lay back, trying to flick my legs out to kick her but with the bodies still moving under me, and her immense speed becoming even more apparent, I flail and nearly get sucked back under the mass supporting me.

"Lust. Leave her be. She's a newbie, a nobody." I hear Gojo's voice from the surrounding area, the woman lets out a flirtatious laugh and the mass slowly, dropping the support as I crash on the ground. As the mass dissipates, I suddenly feel a weight on my back, it's her, she's now sat on me.

"So you've succumbed to your urges and are straddling nobodies now are you, Gojo? I thought you had a little more restraint than that." She reaches down, starting to play with my hair. I try to roll over but then she appears, straddling me now.

"I mean, I wouldn't blame you, she's kinda cute... especially when she's scared." She leans forward and tries to press her lips onto mine, I fling my hand into her bright white hair and pull it from behind, forcing her to arch back up.

"Feisty too, I see why you like her." She giggles, slashing giant claws at my stomach and appearing instantly next to Gojo who now stands almost at my feet, lunging towards me. She reaches to grab him by the collar but her hand gets blocked by an invisible wall. She chuckles and gets forcefully pushed away as Gojo spins around and flicks his fingers in her direction.

Pulling me to my feet, he takes out a bandage from his back pocket and shoves it into my hands, forcefully.

"Fix yourself up, " he looks down at the blood pooling at our feet, "FUCK!" he grabs me, as I start to fall to my knees.

"it's not my blood Gojo!" I pant, desperately looking to see if his shirt is soaked in any way.

"Its..mine." Geto mumbles, dropped from above us to our feet. Large lacerations cover his chest and arms, as the woman laughs at her artwork lacing his body.

Gojos eyes widen as he suddenly grabs both me and Getos arms. Suddenly we were then flung into the car, as Gojo desperately orders ijichi to take us to Shoko. He slams the doors and we speed off. I try to help stop the bleeding from Getos chest as he pants that hes fine. I look back out the car window and see flashes of red and blue fill the sky.

"He'll be fine...he's bested her before. He always wins. That beautiful maniac always wins." Geto musters between pants as I try to apply pressure to his wounds. He lets his head drop back down as he passes out.

After Shoko meets us at the gates, and ijichi helps carry Geto to her office, she fixes us up. I only have minor bruising and scraps, so she focuses her attention on Geto who's significant bleeding doesn't slow. After an hour or so, she finally fixes him up and orders me away, I return to my room and flop on my bed, still terrified that Gojo was fighting that lady in the alleyway.

I jolt awake after having apparently passed out from exhaustion, to Gojo laying next to me, panting heavily, his beautiful white hair now strained with blood splatters. His shirt ripped open and trousers barely held on to his hips, as I automatically placed a hand on his chest.

"Such....a....bitch" he pants, barely able to control his breathing. I pull my hand away as he grabs it, putting it back in its place on him.

"Not you, idiot, that stupid bitch from before. She nearly got me a few times there, who the hell strips naked half way through a fight anyway?!" His annoyance seemed to disappear as he spoke, "kinda hot though so, can't really complain." He giggles, half opening an eye to look at me.

"Seeing her straddle you too, whilst trying to make out with you," he makes a chefs kiss pose with his hand to his lips, " now that's something I won't forget for awhile." His grin fades slowly as he starts to snore, he's clearly exhausted so I let him rest, pulling a blanket over him as he lay half sprawled across the bed on top of the duvet.

I slowly slide out of the bed and head to the kitchen area of the building to get him some water and food, when I turn around and drop the glass shattering on the floor. He stood leaning against the doorframe; his usual stance apparently now, with his shirt still undone, and now in his boxers which also barely clung to his hips, it seemed even the slightest breeze would make them fall to the floor revealing his manhood. His head hung lower and soft pants leaving his mouth.

"Don't leave me high and dry like that, I wanted to snuggle." Lifting his head slightly, he flashes a soft half smile at me.

"I...er..wanted to get you some food and...wait, snuggle?" I let out an embarrassed chuckle as I try to sweep the floor of the remaining glass shards. As I'm bent down I feel his back suddenly pressed against mine as he lays over me, his head over my shoulder,

"Carry me to bed. I'm tiiiired."

"if we weren't back to back I could, now get...off." I shove backwards getting him to stumble to his feet,

"HEY! I took care of you, now it's time to return the favour! I don't want Shoko touching me everywhere, scolding me for not being more careful, and for letting you and Geto get hurt, AGAIN."

"GETO! Is he okay?!" The worry in my voice apparently stirring something in him,

"Yeah yeah, your boyfriends fine. It'll take more than a pair of tits to bring him down. Well, now that I say that..." Jealousy lingers on his lips as he trails off, chuckling to himself.

"Oooo someones jealous." I tease, putting the shards in the bin and fixing him a new drink. "Now, let's get back and I can be your nurse this time." My face flusters as I actually said this out loud, instead of keeping it inside.

"My nurse ey?" He tilts his head and looks at me over his glasses, raising his eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

I try to hide my flustered face as I turn to walk out the door,

"C'mon now, time to change your adult diaper." I giggle, trying desperately to walk away from this awkward situation I had put myself in.

"Nah, I think it's time for a bubble bath. You proooooomised."

Getting back to my room, he flops on the bed face down and lets out an exhausted long moan. I perch next to him and trace my fingers up and down his back, comforting him.

"Mmmmmm... Up a bit, left a bit, down a bit, yeeeeeeeah" he shudders, directing my light tickles. He spins around and as I pull away, he places my hand back on his abdomen and lets out a needy 'hmm' as he drags my hand up and down frantically, implying he wants me to do the same but to his front now. As I try to copy the patterns I did on his back, I can't help but trace the indentations of his abs, terrified of tracing a little too close to his pelvis.

"You're allowed to go lower y'know, I don't bite. Not when I'm this exhausted anyway." He lets out a soft chuckle as he keeps his eyes closed and flings an arm over his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, I bet I am." I tease, circling back round to the top half of his stomach. He grabs my hand and slowly starts to drag it lower.

"Can you do it there for me please? It kinda tickles." He leads my hand so I'm tracing over his hips, just an inch away from where his waist band sits. I can feel the nervousness rise in my body as I'm practically glowing red now. I feel a throbbing sensation take over my body. I pull my hand away and sit back slightly, clearly uncomfortable with this new sensation filling me to the brim. He pulls his arm slightly up from his right eye, sleepily peering out at me,

"Not like it? That's fine, sorry I asked." He lets his arm fall back over his eye.

"It's not...nevermind." I make my way to the top of the bed and climb under the duvet, careful not to kick him in the top of the head as I wiggle my legs under. He sits up and climbs himself under the duvet too, he needily forces his head under my arm and cuddles to my chest.

"Mmmm. Now I get to be the little koala." His head nestles between my boobs as he sinks into me, I immediately feel my chest start to race.

"Y'alright? Sounds like you've run a marathon." He sleepily exhales, as he snuggles closer into my chest, almost suffocating himself.

"Hmhm." I muster, trying to control my breathing. Was he blissfully unaware that he was nearly suffocating, or did he genuinely just not care? I lay my head back and continue to trace my fingers along his back as he nestles into me.

"Can you even breathe in there?" I chuckle, looking down at him, my boobs covering his nose and mouth almost entirely. He nestles deeper into his chest, almost pushing me back further into the mattress. A muffled 'mmhmm' comes from his mouth. His arm drapes across my waist as he comes up for air, his white hair a mess covering most of his face.

"Built in cushions, you're lucky yano that!"

"Well I can't exactly use them myself now can I?" I giggle, looking down at him all doey eyed and sleepy.

"True, my bad." He nestles down back into them, "more for me then." He says muffled, back into the 'built in pillows'.

I lay my head back and softly chuckle, as I feel his hand move slowly towards my hips. So slow infact, for a second I assumed I was making it up, but as I realize he is indeed moving, my legs tighten together. He lets out a soft laughing exhale and flattens his warm hands on my waist band.

"Don't worry, I'm only teasing." He muffled, still content with barely being able to breathe.

"I'll let you wiggle if you want me to carry on." Suddenly I am incredibly aware of every muscle in my body, instinctively I try not to move, thoughts racing through my mind.

"Oh yeah, a thinker." He giggles to himself. I lightly tap the back of his head in annoyance, and a low annoyed 'mmm' comes from him.

"I wouldn't want to take advantage of a poor, injured boy." I say, flustered, terrified to let him know my body now physically aching for him to continue.

"Poor? Boy?" He lifts his head up slightly, looking up at me with his eyes half open. "Poor? Definitely not. Boy? Even less likely. " He pushes his hand slightly harder onto my waistband. As I sharply inhale, he lets out a low giggle and smiles to himself.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what I thought." He says, flopping his head back down onto the suffocating mound of my chest.

Almost instinctively my hips move slightly, my body defying my mind, and he slowly moves his pinkie finger so it rests slightly underneath the elastic band of my pants. I sharply inhale as he slowly continues to move the rest of his hand lower and lower into my pants.

He begins to leg his middle finger slide down into my creases, applying the slightest twing of pressure on my clit. I jolt and he giggles, inhaling my scent, he pushes his head harder into my chest, as I feel his mouth open slightly. As he begins to slowly circle my clit, I feel him softly kissing my chest, I grab the bedsheet with my other hand and squeeze tightly almost pulling it off the side of the mattress. Getting faster with his circling, I arch my back and feel euphoria fill my body, as he slides his fingers down and teases the entrance to my pussy. I let out a slight moan as I grind into his hand, he lifts his head and starts to push his hips into the side of me. Kissing my neck, he slowly enters a finger into me, his long appendage reaching places I never could, and I feel him press on the spongey button I was completely unaware was inside me. A sharp exhale leaves me breathless as I grab the back of his hair. Sliding teasingly slowly into and out of me, I feel his other hand reach down as he starts to rub his cock. A low growling 'mmmm' leaves his closed lips as he starts to turn my hips towards him, I feel him get faster with his thrusts, each time pressing harder and harder inside me. As he quickens, I feel him rubbing the tip of his head onto my clit, up and down slowly teasing me with soaking wet I already am. I grab his hand and pull it from me, and as I do so, he reaches round to grab my hips and pulls me closer to him.

Reaching down he guides his precum glistening head to the entrance of my pussy and stops, teasing me. He reaches down to grab my thigh and pulls it so it's now hooked over the top of his hip as we face each other. He nudges his chin on top of my head, to get me to look up at him, as his glassy lips softly meet mine. Before embracing he whispers into my open mouth,

"Tell me to do it." His low voice almost heavenly whispering to me. "Tell me to put it in you. Tell me to fuck you. T,tell me."

"P,please. Please fuck me. I need to feel you." I beg. And as this escapes my lips, me thrusts his throbbing head into me.

"Think you can take it?" He proudly asks, holding the back of my neck with his hand.

"Make it fit, make me take it." I instruct, completely dickdrunk already, before he's even done anything to me really. He lets out a devious exhale and his smirk widens, as he pulls me closer to him, thrusting deeper into me.

With a sharp inhale, I now see what he means, barely half way in and I'm already struggling to breathe. I swear he's about to rearrange my womb to my throat at this rate. He starts to thrust in and out of me, slowly at first, trying to inch more and more of himself inside of me, before I dip my heel into the back of his hip, and pull him all the way in. We both gasp at the sheer pleasure of his now soft pubes meeting my clit, as he then pushes me to my back and presses his hand next to head onto the mattress. Holding onto my thigh with his other hand, he begins to thrust his cock deep inside me, each thrust filling me up like he's trying to push the air from my lungs. With each thrust, my moans become louder and longer, he shoves his tongue into my mouth as we begin to moan between flicks. He sits back and puts my leg over his shoulder, one hand on my lower stomach and the other around my throat, he now begins to pick up the pace.

"Say it. Say my name. Let everyone know who's pussy this is." He grunts, digging his nails into the ankle he's holding.

"Sat...Sat...Saturo...It's...yours...I'm yours.." I gasp, desperately trying to get my brain to form any coherent words. Pounding harder and harder, I can feel every vein, every muscle contracting inside of me, he lets go of my throat and slaps me across the face.

"Yeah, that's right, let everyone hear...you're fucking Gojo, the greatest sorcerer in the world. And you're going to have his cum leaking out of you for days." Grunting, sweat dropping down his Adams apple onto me, I open my mouth to taste it.

"Oh, you wanna TASTE me now do you?" He smirks, "Well, if I wasn't so hellbent on cumming inside of you, I would've let you taste all of me." He grabs my face, and thrusts slower, deeper inside of me. I feel him swell bigger with each longer thrust, as he releases his hot cum inside of me, failing slightly closer to me, he catches his fall with his arm placed next to me.

He lets out a low giggle as he stays inside me, his white hair dripping wet with sweat, strewn across his face.

"Well," he pants, "I'm sure everyone now knows who's pussy this is." Closing my eyes I let out a laugh between deep pants, and moan and a quiet 'yeah' from my lips.

He pulls himself out me, a string of cum still connecting his head to my pussy, he flops next to me. Both frantically panting, he looks over at me and a sweet smile grows on his face.

"Yano, I could do better. Give me five and I'll try again." He chases the sweat dripping in-between my chest down to my belly button, and slaps the tiny pool of sweat gathered there. I flinch and swat his hand away.

"I'm barely conscious as is, how about 10?" I mumble, barely able to keep my eyes open.

He climbs back ontop of me, cock still hard, he leans in close to my ear and whispers,

"I meant seconds."

[confused-reading-ink-rat]

Chapter 7; Poppies With Heart-Shaped Petals

(Snippet from Previous Part)

Feldspar trotted forward, nuzzling her muzzle against Fiyero’s shoulder, who was sprawled on the ground staring into the sky. “Not this one?” 

Fiyero shook his head, sitting up. “No,”

Then he grinned at the sunset. “Not yet.”

______________________________________________________

Galinda was being interrogated, and she was providing more answers than what was asked. “Oz, you should see how cold she was,” The blonde said, biting her lip in worry. “I think I’ve pushed her too far.”

“To be fair, we didn’t discourage you,” Pfanne said, gritting his teeth in embarrassment.

“We indulged,” Shenshen sighed. “Even Milla was saying we were going too far.”

A pause.

“Where is Milla, anyway?” Galinda asked, looking around. Pfannne and Shenshen’s eyes widened in horror. The blonde’s jaw dropped. “We forgot Milla.”

“Oh Oz, she’d never forgive us!” Pfanne gasped, dramatically hyperventilating. Shenshen nudged him in the ribs. 

“We should find her,” Galinda added in a serious tone, holding onto Pfanne’s hand, ready to bolt.

“And Avaric,” Pfanne exclaimed, “How are we forgetting so much already?! We’re in our early 20’s!”

“Early signs of dementia,” Galinda put the back of her hand against her forehead. “We’re going to forget everything!”

“You already forgot us when you came here,” Shenshen added in horror.

“No! I can’t forget anything yet! I still have to meet my soulmate!” Pfanne cried, collapsing onto Shenshen.

“Speaking of which, what do your soulmarks look like?” Galinda asked curiously, the Gillikin boy proudly rolled up his sleeve. The blond leaned in, squinting. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”

Shenshen pointed at an odd symbol, “There.” 

Pfanne’s soulmark appeared to be a pale yellow pattern wrapped around the area between his shoulder and his elbow, reminiscent of a bracelet. Shenshen, meanwhile, sighed longingly.

“No mark yet?” Galinda asked sympathetically.

“We have next year.” Shenshen reassured her.

After a beat, all their stomachs grumbled in unison. Galinda groaned, she wanted to stay in the halls, maybe find Milla and Avaric, and talk about soulmarks and soulmates, but they were already being dragged away by Shenshen.

“So while we were at the library earlier I was looking up patterns, and it said that jewelry or accessory-based soulmarks have meaning.” Pfanne began.

“He’s gone on and on to me about it while you were gone,” Shenshen nudged Galinda, “He thinks that his soulmate’s Winkun.”

“There’s a possibility!” He defended himself.

“Aren’t they also for the high class?” Galinda asked, her parents themselves have a ring pattern on their ring fingers. She always found it quite romantic.

“Not exactly,” Pfanne began, eager to share. “The Adruenna’s are big on the gem monopoly of the Oz, so it might be from that.”

Galinda nodded as they dragged her along, her mind elsewhere. If soulmarks had so much meaning, what did hers and Elphaba mean?

Meanwhile, Elphaba and Nessa sat next to each other in the cafeteria, the younger girl eagerly listening to Elphaba’s recountings.

“Courtship?” Nessa blinked in surprise. “You made her sign a courtship?”

“She made me agree to a courtship.” Elphaba corrected, “There’s a difference.”

“Suree,” Nessa drawled on, making Elphaba narrow her gaze. “What will be your answer for her anyway?”

“Answer?” Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that usually wait later on in the courtship?”

“No? Fabala, do you not know the social implications of a courtship?” Her sister said in disbelief.

“Nessa, I don’t know the social implication of anything.”

“Oz,” The younger Thropp took a deep exhale. 

“A courtship, especially one for a soul bond, meant that there’s a chance of rejection.”

“So?”

“Elphaba, you just basically announced that you’ll be rejecting Galinda.”

Elphaba gave her a confused look. “Wait, but I haven’t even given her my answer.”

“There’s only a courtship if you’re saying no,”

“Oh.”

Nessa let Elphaba have a moment, watching her sister’s expression slowly mold into realization. She sighed, gripping the arms of her chair for emotional support. Then came a loud thud as Elphaba held her head in her hands and slammed it onto the table, groaning. The younger girl reached over, tapping the green girl and gesturing to who just entered the hall.

Galinda Upland strode forward with purpose, but no direction. Pfanne and Shenshen were clearly leading her to the food, grumbling about starving, but the blonde’s eyes were wandering, looking for a certain someone she had spoken to this morning. Elphaba only responded with an eye roll when she met her eyes.

“Giving her hope?” 

“Hardly,” Elphaba answered, crossing her arms.

Galinda returned to meet her gaze with a wink, Elphaba gave her an amused smile.

“Hardly.” Nessa mocked, which earned her a deadpan glare from Elphaba that she returned.

Elphaba went back to reading her books to compensate for the linguification class she had missed earlier that morning. Next to her, Nessa was copying her notes for the Logic class, grumbling about x’s and y’s and the fact that they needed to get their shit together before she stabbed them with a pen.

A few students drifted past, fresh from Philosophy, arguing about the relevance of fate in choosing a soulmate and chosen mates. It brought up a memory from the sisters, glancing towards each other in unison.

“You know, this wasn’t what I was expecting when that seer told us about a soulmate,” The brunette mentioned casually as if she wasn’t mentioning a memory that gave them hope in their childhood.

“She only said that our fates were interesting,” Elphaba brushed it off easily, but the exact phrase was burned into her memory.

“Mhm,” Nessa hummed, the memory playing before her eyes.

It was early in the afternoon when Boq, Nessa, and Elphaba rushed to the garden, the latter holding onto Dulcibear. Nessa only had a chair on wheels back then, not an actual wheelchair. Still, that did not stop the younger Thropp from telling the munchkin to speed around the garden with her in tow, Boq followed eagerly, trying not to trip himself.

Then came a carriage, a theatrical one. There was a window, lined with red curtains made of soft velvet. The woman inside introduced herself as a seer, recounting tales and tragedies of old and new. She offered to give the children a chance to know their own fate (for free, might she add), she held out a deck, and Boq reached up to pull a card.

Souls. Soulmates.

Each child walked up to her as the rest sat a good foot or three away while the blonde whispered tales. Dulcibear went first, giggling at the woman’s words. Curious, Elphaba went up next, and she can never forget what that woman whispered.

“My dear, you are a child of luck indeed, this world satisfies the powerful’s greed. Your string is intertwined not with one alone, yet your fates aren’t set in stone. Each is a rushing river with many possibilities, but trust that their love will not be a liability. Open your heart and let them enter, soon you will find them at the center.”

She said it so poetically, displaying the young girl’s fate like a fragile lily.

Boq came back in tears from his reading. The woman looked at Dulcibear solemnly, shaking her head. Nessa didn’t get a turn, Elphaba didn’t know why, perhaps because the carriage needed to leave. A man covered from head to toe with cloth, who seemed to have returned from the town with bags of food, entered the carriage. The woman at the front, skin was white, ghostly white. Not pale, not cream, but white. White, like it had been painted over, glowing like snow during winter. The woman clicked her tongue and whistled, allowing the Horse pulling at the front the signal to move forward.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a certain munchkin’s calls, rushing to them with a flushed face from all the running.

“Elphaba! Nessa! I heard that—” he panted, grinning widely at Elphaba, just about ready to congratulate her. As he came to a stop and flashed a smile at Nessa, his face fell at the sight on her wrist. He dropped his books, his notes, and loose papers, which were sent flying carelessly around them.

A g-clef, the color fading orange to red.

A soulmark.

______________________________________________________

The Big List

@nether2010

@kekescalope

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@thestorytellingfool

@mulder-its-me-223

@soundofcomets

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ALL PARTS: 

Part 1 : Here

Part 2 : Here

Part 3: Here

Part 4: Here

Part 5 : Here

Part 6 : Here (LATEST AND PREVIOUS)

As always, you can find this series on Tumblr, with the tags #poppies with heart shaped petals #poppies with heart-shaped petals

______________________________________________________

One last chapter before the rewrite, because guess who forgot she wrote an entire chapter before rewriting/adding on to the story.

It has been decided that when the rewrite is posted, it will have its own masterlist on Tumblr, and it'll be cross-posted on Ao3

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!

[italyveneziano]

Finally getting the answers to what the plans for HetaOni were honestly feels like this

[cats-in-the-clouds]

it is unfortunate when i go to prayer and cry my eyes out and the only response i really hear is that i simply have to bear it. like usually i can get my emotions out and once they’re settled i hear a rational solution but it sucks when i don’t get the answer i want. i just have to keep waiting. like normally i hear something that gives me strength but wow apparently i’ve hit a new low

[inkedbybarnes]

blind date

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: convinced that bucky will never like you back, you agree to a blind date arranged for you to forget about him.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: fluff. two idiots pining over each other (i know, i know. i love the trope). blind dates (they honestly scare me). boundaries being crossed. not so gentleman of a blind date. protective & grumpy bucky (yes, that's a warning!). pet names such as doll. lowercase writing. not proofread.

notes: happy 500 followers to us! hehe. sorry it took long, i waited until i reached that milestone and we finally did! we're growing in our small delulu home, and i love it. <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“come on! tell me more about this mystery guy.”

natasha plopped down the couch beside you while she held a pint of ice cream in her hand and a spoonful on its way to her mouth. you were talking about the blind date that sam arranged for you, and she hasn't stopped asking questions since you mentioned it.

“there's really nothing to tell besides that he's a guy looking for a date and that he's friends with sam. i'm actually surprised that sam set this all up, but i trust him, you know? maybe it'll be nice,” you answered, ignoring the fact that sam suggested this to help you get over your not-so-little crush on a super soldier.

your phone beeped, showing a message sent to you by your teammate. “speaking of the devil, sam just sent me the details but i'm really not sure if i should go. it doesn't feel right.”

“and leave the poor guy waiting? not happening." natasha stuck her spoon into her pint and set it down on the coffee table. “you feel that way because you like someone already, but nothing's going to happen if we'll sit here waiting. you're either giving this date a chance or ask bucky out. it's time you finally go out there and see someone. aren't you sick of us yet?"

“i'm quite sick of you, that's for sure.” you joked, having natasha as your room neighbour and basically your best friend. if you weren't spending your time sleeping in your room, you'd be spending it with her. “i just don't think i should be going on dates when i know i'm technically not emotionally available for others yet.”

“oh, you can't be sick of me. i'm great company." natasha replied confidently. “then why did you agree? we all know, besides barnes, that you've liked him for so long. plus, he's never been with anyone for ages. the two of you makes sense.”

you gnawed on your lower lip, hesitant to tell nat the reason why you agreed to this stupid date, but she was your best friend and also one hell of a spy to even try and hide it. “he told me that he found someone similar to bucky and that i might want to meet him. we agreed to let it be a blind date to avoid the mess of telling them that they're meeting an avenger.”

“i knew it. you're going on a rebound date!” she jumped on her seat, as if she'd solved the winning numbers to the lottery. “there was no way you'd suddenly go on a blind date without a catch. you're too hung up on bucky!”

“keep it down!” you pulled her back into the couch, nervously looking around the room to see if anyone was close by. “i'm pretty sure rebounds only apply to people i've dated. bucky's hardly a candidate for that list.”

“you've liked him for way too long that it basically feels like you had a relationship, and i'm pretty sure he likes you too,” natasha said. “trust me, my guts? golden.”

you winced at the thought. there had been zero signs that bucky liked you back. as much as you trusted natasha and her instincts, this was something you couldn't just assume.

“i don't think so, nat. i've given him enough hints. it's either he's too dense about it or he's just not interested. maybe it's just how it's supposed to be, and i can't keep myself stuck with maybes forever.” you sighed, deciding to finally go to the blind date. “help me pick an outfit?”

“like you even have to ask?” she smiled, dragging you to your room while you were still left with uncertainty in your heart.

the restaurant was one of those hole-in-the-wall places in downtown new york. it had a lot people dining inside, their noise easily heard from the outside, yet the ambiance already felt warm and welcoming. you wondered if sam suggested the place or the guy you were about to meet.

you sighed, giving your chest one last tap since it wouldn't stop beating so fast. it was a wonder how your heartbeat remained stable during a risky mission, while a harmless date had you this nervous. although with that, you felt human.

“okay, let's see where this goes,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your watch that had a tracking device in it, as requested (or ordered) by your best friend.

natasha initially opted to come with you and seat somewhere far, but you told her that you didn't need it. so, she settled with a tracking device, as if you weren't an avenger who could defend yourself. you couldn't find it in you to complain, since this was natasha's own way of showing that she cared.

you entered the restaurant, eyes wandering around the room despite not knowing exactly what to look for. the only details you were allowed to know was that “joseph” knew where to take you, so you assumed that person was one of the staff that you had to look for.

once you found a waitress that didn't look too occupied, you approached her with a smile. “excuse me, may i know where joseph is?”

the lady looked up at you, recognition evident on her face. you were slightly worried that she knew your identity, but she gave you a warm smile and held your arm gently. “oh, he's right there by the counter. let me take you to him!”

she escorted you towards the man handling the counter that seemed to be where the orders were taken. he was shouting various orders behind him while arranging the food on the counter. by the looks of it, he could be the manager or the owner of the place.

“she's here!” the lady beside you exclaimed, catching the full attention of joseph.

“ah, there's our special guest for tonight!” joseph walked around the counter to hug you, as if you knew each other for a long time. “come, come! we have the best spot reserved for you. it's right outside where you can enjoy the view while also having some privacy, eh? your date already arrived, but no worries. he wasn't waiting for too long.”

you were rendered speechless as he took you to the patio, not expecting your date to arrive first, and most importantly not expecting to see him right away. you thought you were early enough, but it seems that your date was an earlier bird than you were.

once outside, all you could see was an empty patio with one man sitting not so far from where you were standing. you hated how you could only see his back and not his face, since he was facing the opposite direction. although, you immediately noticed how he was dressed similarly to bucky.

similar haircut, black boots, and a black jacket. while you weren't sure if they actually looked alike, sam wasn't kidding about them having some similarities.

“how come it's empty out here?” you asked with genuine curiosity. the restaurant was oozing with customers tonight, and they could surely use the extra space outdoors.

“well, uh...” joseph scratched his head, smiling awkwardly as he looked for an answer. “oh, well, stop worrying about that! you're here to go on a date and nothing more! let us worry about that ourselves, hm? come, let's not make your date wait for too long.”

you both walked towards the only table occupied, taking a deep breath before joseph announced, “your date has arrived!”

the man turned around, eyes widened at the sudden noise, but he eventually smiled once he looked at you.

“hey, nice to finally meet you.” he stood up, extending his hand. “i'm martin.”

one look at him and you knew that your heart stubbornly stayed with someone you shouldn't be thinking about.

“i still can't believe that i'm on a date with an avenger.”

you were barely done with your meal despite being here for more than an hour, and martin hasn't been able to stop gushing about your whole avenger sideline. while you understood his excitement, this wasn't the type of date that you hoped for.

“you think i could tell my friends?” he asked, suddenly nudging his chair closer to you that he was basically sitting beside you. “they probably won't believe me, so will it be okay if we took a picture?”

oh, so that's why he moved closer.

“sure.” you forced a smile. “but don't get too close, maybe? i'm.. i'm not that comfortable yet.”

as if you said nothing, he placed an arm over your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him. you've been through worse situations than this, but you were highly uncomfortable having your boundaries crossed.

bucky wouldn't do something like this. how did sam think that any of his behaviour was similar to him?

martin already had his phone out, capturing pictures and squeezing your arm, when you decided that this isn't what you wanted, but before you could open your mouth, you felt someone pulling his arm off of you, causing martin to scream.

“what is wrong with you!?” martin shouted, standing up and stepping away while he held his aching arm. when you turned around, you felt your heart stop to find the person you least expected to be here, but wanted the most to be with.

“bucky?”

he did not look at you, his eyes still fixated on martin, nostrils flaring as he took a step closer, standing in front of you as if he was shielding you, while martin took the same amount of steps backwards. “she clearly said no. what the fuck was so hard about understanding that?”

“look, man, i don't know what you're doing here, but i think this is between me and her,” he said, his eyes showing fear as he watched the ex-assassin approach him, hearing the gears of his metal arm whirring.

“give me your phone.” bucky ordered. “now.”

martin immediately fished for his phone, nearly dropping it, and gave it to bucky. “w-what are you going to do?”

“no, this is what you're gonna do,” bucky started, crashing martin's phone with ease and carelessly throwing it to the side. “this date never happened, your friends will hear nothing about tonight, and you will get out of here before i finish counting to three. one...”

in a snap, martin was already out of your sight. if you hadn't known martin before this, you would think he idolised pietro with the way he ran so fast.

“are you okay?”

forgetting about bucky for a split second, his voice jolted you out of your thoughts. you looked up, your heart racing, to find him right in front you.

“what are you doing here?”

“that doesn't really answer my question, doll. answer mine first, will ya? then i'll answer yours.”

“i'm okay, but i can take care of myself. you didn't have to scare the guy.” you sighed, trying your best to look displeased when in fact this has been the happiest you've been tonight. “so? why are you here?”

“well, it's really hard to explain...”

“you better try, barnes, because i am very confused right now,” you said. “one moment i'm on a date with someone, then suddenly my teammate, who i told nothing about said date, appears and crushes the phone of the guy i'm with?”

“natasha told me about it.”

you frowned, not surprised with natasha's gossipy nature, but confused about what she could've said that made him go all the way here.

“i was looking for you since you're always with us during dinner, and nat told me that you were on a date. i couldn't help but ask where and with whom, but she said that she had no idea, that it was a blind date. she was more than glad to tell me where you were, so i came here looking for you.”

“why?” you asked, confused and suddenly hopeful at the same time. although, you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to set yourself up for a heartbreak.

“what do you mean why? that's it. i was just worried, and now you're okay. can we go home?”

he turned his back on you and walked away, you were quick enough follow him, still unsatisfied with his answer.

once you've reached a dark alley where he had his motorcycle parked, you sighed and decided to ask one more time.

“what are you actually doing here, barnes?” you asked. “i want an actual answer or i'm walking home.”

“it doesn't matter,” bucky answered shortly, frustration. written on his face. “why did you agree to this anyway? doesn't feel like something you'd do.”

“you have no idea about what i feel and what i want to do,” you answered. “and you still haven't answered my question.”

“i don't know, okay? i don't know. i just..” he sighed. “i heard the word date and everything didn't make sense. all i knew was that i wanted to follow you here and stop whatever you were doing. i didn't like it.”

“what gives you the right to stop me from going on a date?” you asked, your head jerked back in disbelief. “and why would it even bother you? this is the first time someone went on a date in the team. so what makes mine so different?”

“what do you think?” he asked, his gaze challenging and curious, waiting for your response.

you stood in silence, his question causing a sudden drift in the conversation. you could feel the tension in the air.

“sam made me go to a blind date as well,” he spoke again. “i just remembered that he was asking me where i'd take someone on a date. days after that, he said he found a girl that i might like, and that i should go on a date with her, he suggested that it should be a blind date, knowing that i'm an avenger and all.”

“why didn't you go?”

“i couldn't. i wasn't interested. i knew it wouldn't work.”

“why?”

“because i already like someone.”

your heart sank, a lump forming in your throat as the reality set in that the person you've been pining for was already interested in someone else.

so much for going on a date to forget about him.

“what about you?” he asked. “why did you go?”

because of you, you idiot.

“trying to get over someone,” you simply answered.

“you were seeing someone?” he asked, completely clueless, but suddenly looking uneasy. “i never knew you were in a relationship. i guess, we're not that close, but i thought i'd at least know abou—”

“what? no!” you replied, voice rising as you spoke. "god, i agreed to this date because i wanted to get over you!"

the words slipped out of your mouth, your eyes widening in surprise as you accidentally reveal the feelings you had kept hidden.

bucky blinked, silence hanging in the air. the confession felt heavy between you as you waited for his response.

“i didn't agree to going on a blind date because i have feelings you,” bucky finally spoke, taking a deep breath before continuing, “because i knew i wouldn't enjoy it knowing i'd be thinking of you anyway, because as convinced as i was that you had no interest in me, i'd rather keep my eyes on you than on anybody else.”

“wait, wait, what? you like me?” you repeated in a slightly disbelieving tone, searching his face for confirmation.

“why would i follow you all the way here if i didn't?”

“because you care? and it might be dangerous to go on a date with someone i've never met?” you guessed. “i mean, i think you'd also do it for everybody else, as grumpy as you look like on the outside, you can be a softie sometimes.”

“if i had no feelings for you, i wouldn't be here. you're an avenger for christ's sake. some random guy would be like a training dummy for you,” he answered. “and no, i wouldn't be doing this for anybody else. if the situation's that dangerous, maybe, but a date? you're all adults. you know what you're doing.”

you couldn't help but giggle at his answer, which earned you a glare from him. “what?”

“nothing.” you shook your head. “you sound like an old man lecturing the younger generation.”

“are we completely ignoring the fact that we like each other?”

“that's the only thing on my mind right now.” you admitted. “are you sure about what you just said? it could be the hunger talking.”

instead of answering, bucky took his phone out of his pocket, swiping and tapping on it a few times before taking your hand and placing it on your palm.

“what am i supposed to—”

“just read it.”

choosing not to argue with him, you grabbed the phone with a frown. his messages with natasha were on the screen, starting from their messages from nearly four months ago. you scrolled through their messages, and while they lasted for months, they were all short and straightforward.

three months ago

bucky:

did you arrive safely?

romanoff:

since when did you start asking?

bucky:

?

romanoff:

yes, we arrived safely.

bucky:

👍🏻

romanoff:

really???

two months ago

bucky:

is she okay?

romanoff:

ohhh, that's why you keep texting.

bucky:

answer

romanoff:

geez, barnes.

yeah, she's okay.

bucky:

ok

one month ago

bucky:

she's sick?

romanoff:

yeah, wanna visit her?

you're basically immune.

bucky:

i have a mission

romanoff:

oh yeah

oops

bucky:

are you busy?

romanoff:

nope

why?

bucky:

take my place

romanoff:

no thanks, barnes.

bucky:

i'll take your next task

and the next one as well

romanoff:

why can't you just take this one?

bucky:

nothing

romanoff:

a reason or i'm not doing it.

bucky:

she's sick

i want to stay

romanoff:

oh my god

you're such a sap

fine i'll talk to steve

bucky:

ty

romanoff:

you're using abbreviations now???

bucky:

👍🏻

one week ago

romanoff:

movie night later, don't ditch us again

bucky:

busy

romanoff:

she planned this one

she's worried you won't come

bucky:

i'll bring snacks

romanoff:

i love knowing your weakness

bring popcorn!

bucky:

she prefers pizza over popcorn

does she like popcorn?

romanoff:

nope, but some of us do.

bucky:

ok

romanoff:

so you're bringing popcorn?

bucky:

no

once you were done reading, you returned his phone back to his hand. “you do like me,” you said, the confession finally sinking in.

bucky nodded. “and you like me too.”

“where does that leave us?” you asked, hoping. “are we.. dating now?”

“no,” he answered quickly.

you felt that ache returning in your chest, but before you could say something, bucky already sensed your worries and he wasn't letting you slip away that easily.

“no because i want to do this right. i want to take you out on a date first, bring you flowers, play music and ask you for a dance, all that stuff that you deserve,” he explained, bringing his warm hand to your cheek. “but trust me that it won't take long before i call you mine. i don't think i have the patience for it at this point.”

“you promise?” you rose to your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around him. “i don't want to wait that long either.”

“you won't,” he replied, leaning into you, his lips brushing against your nose before pulling you in a kiss. “i promise.”

this was supposed to have a lil bonus when they got back to the tower, revealing the team's true involvement with the blind date, buttt i might just do it some other time as a snippet/part 2 instead. i still have a few to write anyway, woops.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[tender-rosiey]

plsss would u do sukuna taking care of his pregnant wife? like noticing his robes keep disappearing, only to figure out its his wife. or more dad!kuna 🙏🏾

robes — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: me👰‍♀️ ➕ 👹heianera!sukuna

sukuna is a deeply preceptive man.

it’s something he prides himself over, and since he is observant, he quickly notices that his robes start going missing.

in the beginning, he thinks that it’s probably the increased number of bloodied robes because he has been going on a higher number of rampages the past couple of days.

so, he goes to uraume to inquire about why the delivery of his robes has been later than usual.

uraume quickly responds that they have been personally delivering the clean robes to his chambers and ensuring that they are placed where he can clearly see them.

the revelation makes sukuna annoyed because that means that someone has been stealing his robes directly from his chambers.

he is presented with two courses of actions—excluding the option of saving himself the trouble and just killing all the servants: sending uraume to spy on the whole ordeal or investigate it himself.

considering how he has been pretty bored the past couple of days, he decides on the latter. the past few rampages have given a clear warning to the rest of the villages surrounding his castle.

so, with nothing else to do, sukuna takes it upon himself to monitor the main entrance of his chambers to see whether anybody enters the room after uraume places the robes in the room.

so, he situates himself near the room but far away so that they can’t catch him.

he stays there for a good couple of hours, yet he sees no one, not even in the darkness of the night: the supposed prime time for a thief.

perhaps the thief has been made aware of sukuna’s inspection? but that would mean that the robes would still be in the chambers. so, sukuna enters his room in search of his robes, but, to his surprise, he doesn’t find them.

that immediately leads him to concluding that whoever is stealing his robes is someone who has access to the hidden door of his room.

and no one knows about that door except—

“y/n.”

you yelp and slowly turn to your husband. he is standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and an everlasting frown on his face. you have been caught and are in some big trouble.

you don’t falter immediately though. you try to act normal. you smile nervously, “yes, my love? is something bothering you?”

keyword: try.

he repeats your name lowly, and you quickly crumble. you visibly deflate and lower your head as you murmur, “yes…”

he nods in satisfaction before asking the awaited question, “where are my robes?”

your hands rest on your lap, and you fidget with your fingers.

you still can’t figure out what his reaction will be. so far, he is just gathering information. he is giving you nothing to work with, so you have no other option but to comply and just keep answering him.

sighing, you answer him, “my closet.”

he quirks an eyebrow and sits in front of you. his hand is placed on your head, and he raises your head, so you’re looking him in the eyes. it’s something that you have noticed only being done to you.

you had absentmindedly asked your head servant about it, and said servant, uraume, had told you that it’s because he views you as an equal and does not take pleasure in your fear and acting inferior to him.

and in the end, sukuna only does what pleases him. if it doesn’t please him then why do it?

he hums as if in thought before egging you on, “and why are my robes in your closet? in fact—” he smirks, eyes observing your frame, “why are you currently wearing my robes?”

you pull the robes tighter around yourself, and you purse your lips. sukuna wants an answer right now, and while he is enjoying your ‘suffering’, he also wants to know what’s wrong.

if there is anything that he hates then it’s not knowing, especially if it’s something about you, his very pregnant wife.

his hand travels to your jaw, and he grips it lightly.

“so?” he says as he tilts your head to the slide slightly.

“you…have been gone for longer than usual lately, and I have been missing you,” you admit softly as you try your best to maintain eye contact, but you end up looking away.

he is still silent, so you continue laying out your reasoning, “and for some reason, the robes alleviate the pregnancy pain. I couldn’t find any logical or scientific reason, but I think—

—it’s because the robes are filled with your cursed energy, maybe acting as a kind of assurance to the baby that you are beside us even if you aren’t.”

he doesn’t grace you with any reaction nor reply for quite a while, and it makes you think that he is probably thinking about how foolish the entire scenario is.

so, you add hesitantly, “or something like that…”

after a moment, though, he sighs and simply says, “you could’ve just asked me, you foolish woman.”

you blink confused, “and you, my ‘no one takes what’s mine’ husband, would’ve allowed that?”

“you, idiot, are mine, so my belongings are yours anyway,” he states, and his hands rest on your stomach, “this is mine too, so you have to take good care of it.”

a smile takes over your face, and you nod happily, “of course, I will!”

you pause for a second, and it has sukuna confused.

you frown and you point your finger at him while reprimanding him, “and don’t call me an idiot, mister! I am your wife, and I am blessed with a good name.”

a pinch is delivered to your butt which makes you shriek. you jump away from your husband and start rubbing the spot in attempt to soothe it.

sukuna smiles wickedly before suggesting, “how about I help you with that?”

“no! keep your hands off of me, you brute!”

he chuckles, and it echoes throughout the room. it’s kind of creepy. you always said that you wanted to add more furniture to avoid that situation.

you start thinking about the new design for the room when your husband speaks up, “and regarding my absence the past few of days.”

you turn your head to him, and he continues, “I will be putting my plans on pause for a while, so you don’t have to resort to the robes for the time.”

he turns his back to you before announcing, “I am expecting you at dinner and later in my chamber. is that clear?”

you feel giddiness fill you up, and you reply enthusiastically, “yes, my king!”

“good,” he smirks.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

check out my buy me a coffee!

[simpjaes]

CUNNILINGUIST ― s.jy (ft. p.sh)

Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog to give bestie jake conflicting feelings

WORDCOUNT― 16.1 k

PAIRING― jake x afab reader (ft. sunghoon)

CONTENT― a lot of waiting, like to the point it even annoyed me, very fluffy stuff , typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, jake is whiny and needy when he’s horny, reader thinks it’s cute. angst if you’re a baby about it

OTHER CHARACTERS― sunghoon as the mutual friend who bangs reader

NOTE― this was originally written by me on my other blog [@/ncteez], if you’ve read it before, that’s why!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― BIG DICKED BESTIE, pussy eating (he gets IN THERE), masturbation in the form of dry humping a mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, cum eating, sunghoon hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up,raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cheesy love stuff 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What? Again?” Jake says, leaning back against the couch with a groan and a smack to his own forehead.

“Yeah, so basically he went down on me for less than a minute but expected me to, like, go long enough to ‘swallow’ or whatever.” You continue the story in a frustrated huff, shaking your head in self-pity.

Jake groans louder, leaning himself forward again and swiping his drink from your coffee table to take a long and thoughtful sip. 

“How many times is that, then?” He says between sips, glancing around the room as if he’s in deep thought. “I can’t help but think you pick these kinds of guys on purpose at this point.”

You look at him in mock pain, grabbing his drink and taking your own thoughtful sip of it.

“I dunno, they always talk big game during phone sex and stuff. I figure eventually one of them will live up to it.” You drone on, internally marking your recent date’s name off of your call-back list. 

“Be honest with me, have you ever actually gotten good head? Like how would you know if they’re bad if you have nothing good to compare them to?” Jake asks, letting you mindlessly drink his beverage.

It’s not weird to be having these types of conversations with him, if at all, something would seem off if you didn’t. He’s the only person in your life that you’ve ever felt this close to. At this point, you think he’d have to chase you down with a bloody hatchet for things to be awkward. Which is…kind of interesting, you guess.

“Well, I mean,” You think for a moment too long for his liking, but he gives you the space to finish your answer. “It feels good and all but it’s not like I’ve ever gotten off by it.”

“Correction –” Jake starts, blinking right at you. “You’ve never been given the chance to get off on it.” His bright  smile shows through his words, and you’re sure he’s mocking you at this point.

“Yeah, yeah. Yada, yada. I have terrible taste in sexual partners but to be fair, it’s not like the pool is that big to choose from.”

He nods in agreement, humming as if to end the conversation and still watching you sip at his drink.

“Would you be opposed to–” He pauses, making eye contact with you. “Y’know, I could do it for you.”

You pause, nearly dropping his drink out of your hand but thankfully your grip actually tightens on it instead. You swallow as you look at him, searching his face to see if this is some kind of joke.

“Jae-fucking-yun,” You deadpan, sitting his cup back down on your coffee table and leaning toward him, staring him down. “You’d really do that, for me?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, mostly playing it off as a half-joke just to see if he’s fucking with you or not. 

“How else are you gonna experience it?” 

You stare him down harder.

“You say that like you’re some sort of pussy-eating-god,” You narrow your eyes. “Are you?”

He shrugs casually with his little smile, leaning back on your couch and stretching his arms out. One of his hands lands behind your shoulder and you lean into it. 

“I’d let you be the judge of that if you’re up for it.”

Finally, you decide that he’s definitely not joking and you’re definitely gonna do it because like, that’s your best friend. Experiencing your firsts with him comes almost as naturally as walking. You had your first kiss with him, albeit it was a dare. You experienced your first concert with him, your first break up, your first failed exam, and even your first legal drink in a club. What’s so bad about letting him eat you out?

“Right now?” You ask, quirking your brow and tilting your head.

“Now, tomorrow, next week. Whenever.” He runs his hands through his hair as he says it and only now are you starting to really tune into his features that you’ve already found handsome.

Day after day you’ve seen him on this couch and in other states of dress without really thinking twice about how his lips would feel on you (despite that short first kiss). You’ve seen him kissing all up on other people, you’ve seen him in the club with wet lips from alcohol, you’ve seen him all messy and eating spaghetti at his parent’s house– but for some reason, his lips seem different now. His sleepy eyes seem different, his messy hair seems like something that should be tugged on, his fucking jawline– 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” He looks at you up and down as if he’s judging. “You wanna go right now?”

You nod slowly, letting the traces of any lusty thoughts you’ve had about him in your life come to the front in waves. Then you quickly shake your head.

“Wait, no,” You roll your eyes more at yourself than him. “I haven’t showered since my date, maybe I should, uh…”

“Uh – yeah. Please do.” He grimaces, that same dopey smile coming back after a moment. 

“Fair.” You roll your eyes. “Gonna go shower then.” 

Part of you wonders if like, he’s being totally legit. For all you know, you’ll get out of the shower and he’ll be too busy doing something else, or like, he’ll go home or something. No hurt in seeing though.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

In the bathroom, you can’t help the feeling in your chest at even the thought that this may be about to happen.

Excitement. That’s what you feel. Not because it’s Jake. Well, maybe a little bit because you wanna see what his tongue is all about but more so because you’re about to get some presumably good head.

You shower thoughtfully, cleaning every part of your body and feeling little goosebumps rise and fall with each sensation of your air conditioning snaking its way past your shower doors. When you get out, you lotion your body so you’re all nice and soft and brush your teeth just in case things go a little further. You’re not expecting it to, but y’know, nothing wrong with having fun if it comes to it. 

After all, he’s doing you a favor by going down on you, the least you can do is smell good, be soft, and totally prepared for if he were to suggest more, right? Right. Anyway, you’re all showered up and opt to just let your hair do its own thing as you throw on your shirt and shorts. You ignore the panties at this point, because why not?

When you get back to the living room, Jake isn’t there. Naturally, you check your bedroom and there he is, still his normal self and lounging against your headboard while flipping through videos on his phone. 

“And she’s back,” he comments, reaching a hand out as if to invite you to your own bed. “Change your mind yet?”

“Not even for a second,” you smile as you take a spot in front of him, your entire body facing him as you pull your knees up and lay your chin against your arms. “Have you?”

He seems to fall into a more serious tone now, locking his phone before tossing it to the side and flicking his eyes up to look at you, scanning your legs in the shorts. 

“No,” he chokes back, shocked to see straight between the gap of your shorts and actually lay eyes on the point of this whole situation for the first time. “And you’re not wearing anything under those shorts.”

You watch his face and the way it turns from your best friend into something you’ve seen time and time again from men you’ve gone home with. It’s sexy on him though, for some reason.

“Figured I’d save you the trouble?”

He smiles, now moving himself toward you and reaching a hand behind to cradle your head. 

“Lay back,” he says softly, in a voice you’ve only heard a few times from him, “you could have left the shorts off too though.” He adds with an even softer laugh.

For some reason, it makes you feel shy. His hand guiding you to lay back all while grabbing the pillow from behind him and placing it under your head so that you’re nice and comfortable.  You watch him look at you and honestly, it’s in a way you can’t remember him ever looking at you before. If this is how he looks at other women, you may be a little jealous. 

It feels more intense right now than you thought it would.

“You’re being weird.” You say offhandedly, looking away from him and trying to keep the heat from flushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re letting me eat you out, how am I being weird?” He leans up from you, putting two hands on your knees but still waiting for your eyes to meet his again. “You want me to act like the other dudes? Dip my tongue in then wrap it up?”

You groan, rolling your eyes back to him and analyzing the way his big hands drape over your knees. 

“Okay, fair.” You admit defeat, feeling his warm palms move down the back of your thighs and to your ass. 

“Lift up,” He says, quickly pulling the shorts off of you when you do as he asks. 

“Oh–” He gasps quietly. “Damn.”

He stares directly between your legs, bracing his hands back at your knees and spreading your legs a bit. He angles his head in different ways to really look at you, seemingly enamored with your pussy as a whole. 

“Look who’s staring now.” You chuckle, instinctively hiding your face from him despite knowing he isn’t looking up at you.

“Yeah– I am,” he admits, now adjusting himself on the bed to lay down, his head easily slotting between your legs as he rests his chin on your lower belly and looks up at you. “You can pull my hair or do whatever, I’m just gonna…like, start I guess. Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

As normal as this isn’t, he’s speaking similar to how the two of you had taken on projects before. He typically takes the lead but offers you control more often than not. All you can do is nod at him, trying to comprehend that it’s your best friend’s head between your legs right now.

When he pulls his head back up with one last nod of confirmation, the first thing you feel is his fingers slipping up your folds, the other braced on your thigh and holding your legs open. You release a short sigh of relief at the feeling and he instantly smirks at it. 

“I haven’t even started yet,” He whispers, glancing up at you before fixing his eyes back on the expanse of your pussy. He uses his ring and pointer finger to spread your lips open, and the middle finger to rub against your hole only for a brief moment before he licks his lips and releases his own sigh of relief. “God, Sunghoon would be so jealous right now.”

You look down at him, wanting to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about and why he’d bring up Sunghoon right now, but you find yourself staring at him instead. Breath caught in your throat with the way his eyes meet yours before letting his tongue hang from his mouth as if presenting it to you in a cheeky way.

He’s so fast with it too, with the way he replaces his middle finger with his tensed tongue, forcing you to swallow your words and hold your breath even more. You can feel him lick and nibble against each of your lips before moving inward, flattening his tongue to lick one long, languid, and wet stripe up until meeting your clit. 

He wraps his lips around it, sucking once, hard, before releasing it and pulling back to look at you.

“This okay?”

Goddamn him for making you have to talk right now. You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that he said Sunghoon, fucking Sunghoon of all people would be jealous that he’s doing this right now. That’s definitely a question for later, because yeah, it’s fucking okay. 

More than okay. 

You nod to him, throwing your arm over your eyes and instinctively bucking your hips up towards his hovering mouth. 

“Oh, that was hot,” He groans out his compliment, watching the way you hide your face before he pulls his eyes back down and uses his fingers to spread your pussy open wider, enough to see your hole pulsate when he dips down to blow against it, “I can see how wet you’re getting, Is it because of me or is it just because someone is playing with your pussy?”

You half groan half moan at that, mostly because hearing these words from him is something that feels entirely too sexual. As if he hasn’t already tasted you, as if you’re not spread out by his fingers right now. You ignore his words, yet, your brain holds onto them with white knuckles and your hips buck toward him again.

“Not a talker, got it.” He notes, watching your hips chase his breath. 

He watches for much longer than you’d like for him to, and you’re about to lift up and accuse him of being just like the other guys but he shuts your thoughts off so fucking fast when you feel his lips on you again. 

His tongue explores every part of you, licking and sucking against areas you didn’t even know would feel good until his mouth lands against your clit again. This time, you can’t help it, you grind up and he hums at it as he braces your legs open just enough to skew his head and move his tongue back down. 

He’s slurping. Lost in the moment as he does it. Tasting you in full and getting a warm, pleasant feeling each time your legs try to close and your hips buck up for more. He…can’t believe this is finally happening. Fucking finally.

Unsure if you’d let him, he tries anyway. He stiffens his tongue, circling your hole before pressing just a bit, giving you just enough pressure that you feel frustrated. So frustrated that you’re the one who ends up finishing his attempt at something new. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, and let out a soft, needy little moan for him. 

That sound forces one from his chest too, he can’t help it, really. With the way you’re grabbing his hair and holding his head in place, pressing yourself against his mouth so much harder than before. Ah, he really, really loves doing this for you. 

To think any man would already be done? To think anyone could like, not wanna eat you out? Insanity. Stupid, stupid fucking men.

He can taste how wet you are now, truly taste it as he stretches your hole as much as he can with his tongue and another groan of his own. It’s probably embarrassing, truly, but he doesn’t care. 

Both of you are moaning at this point as you hold his head in place and grind your hips harder than you think you are. He loves it, you love it. So much that you really are barely comprehending that your best friend could do this the whole time?! And never told you until now?!

Jake is just as drunk on the moment as you are though. Totally lost in the scent and taste of you as he continues to lap away, constantly trying to prove that you can and will get off from his mouth alone. And honestly? It’s at the point that he figures he can use his fingers now too considering you let him spread you open with his tongue. What’s a little more gonna hurt, anyway?

The taste of you alone has him in heaven, cursing any man who didn’t take advantage of your pussy against their mouth. He can easily slip a finger into a hole this wet and needy, gasping in awe before glancing up at you. 

God, the way you immediately ride his finger, no huff or sound of irritation that he’s pulled his tongue back now. Your face. Fuck. 

He watches as you shamelessly chase the small amount of pleasure he can offer in terms of just head and fingering. He can imagine how hot you’d be without that shirt on, with your legs around his hips, with your mouth wrapped around him. You look blissed out, soaking his finger and keeping your hand in his hair, mindlessly grabbing and scratching at him. 

Making quick work, he goes back for your clit, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and noticing how you ride his finger harder. He can’t help but smirk against you when you do it either. 

The movement of your hips constantly humping against him is enough, and he can’t help but groan at the sound of your slick squelching out of you and warming his chin, he can’t fucking help but grind his own hips forward when you act like this. His cock is so painfully hard for you right now, at the taste of you, that all he can do is chase the mattress beneath him. Tensing his muscles and moaning against your clit shamelessly at the jolts of pleasure he gets from it. 

He slips another finger in with ease, feeling how much wetter you’ve gotten in the way the slide is filthy and audible. You groan out at that too, feeling his tongue flick relentlessly against your clit and only now moving your free hand from your face and trailing to your stomach. 

You can’t even talk, so you don’t. You lift your shirt up until you can at least rub against your nipples, just to heighten the pleasure your best friend is so graciously giving you.

His eyes roll back when you do that, only to fall back on you and get a frustrated grunt from him. He’s a bit annoyed that the shirt is still covering you despite your hand under it, fondling yourself. He’s thinking with his cock, so fucking aroused that he doesn’t think twice when he aggressively lifts your shirt up to your chin and watches the way your fingers poke and prod at yourself.

He inhales a sharp breath at the image, and his hips fuck harder against the mattress at that. His fingers speed up and now he’s focused. You feel him all over you from the waist down, his tongue flicking and lips sucking against your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, your fingers heightening those sensations by playing with your own tits– then, oh, then you notice. 

Jake, you’re best fucking friend, is so goddamn horny that he’s dry humping against your bed and whining out moans against your clit. Probably to avoid asking for more, to avoid making you feel obligated to get him off too, to avoid anything you may not want or consent to. And that’s why he’s your best friend.

It doesn’t take long after that, your hips come to a stop as you watch him get himself off all while getting you off, and you find your orgasm bubbling up much faster than if you’d have imagined solely because of the image in front of you.

“Jake, you’re fucking whining.” You groan almost as needy as he does, rolling your hips up in a stutter. 

He was almost gonna stop, because yeah, he is whining. Gasping for air but only tasting you, only swallowing up the moans you give to him, only inhaling the dull scent of the fruity soap you used when you showered. But, you moan louder after you say that. You like it. You like seeing him act so desperate. So he continues, shamefully reaching one of his hands between himself and the bed and quickly shoving it down his pants, circling around his cock and continuing to fuck into it. 

If he thinks hard enough, you’re what he’s fucking right now, and technically, he is. With his fingers and mouth at least. When your hips stutter more, he fucks harder against his hand and holds his fingers inside of you as deep as he can get them. There, he sucks against your clit until you’re the one whining louder. 

You’re shocked at how quickly you’re getting off. Releasing a splash against him in a breathy, choked up sob. Nearly squeezing his head between your thighs to the point he almost misses the way you breathe out strings of praises toward him. But he hears them. 

He definitely heard you say that he looks sexy with your hand in his hair, and god, did he ride off of the fact that you encouraged him to get off with you. Regardless of if you knew if he could or not, regardless of if you knew his hand was providing just enough pleasure for him to do just that. 

There, as your orgasm subsides with his tongue still flicking your sensitive clit, you watch him writhe his hips against your mattress, his eyes slammed shut, and his breath coming out in pornographic moans. So this is what Jake looks like when he cums. It’s desperate, but somehow, it feels passionate too.

You’re all dazed after the fact, pussy pulsing and tingling from the loss of his lips and fingers once he pulls back and lays against your bed with a lazy smile. His pants are uncomfortable, but he doesn’t mind as he wipes his hand across his shirt and watches the way you catch your breath. 

“So,” He tries to say, clearing his throat. “I– um– hope that’s what you needed?”

You’re shy. You’re never fucking shy, especially towards Jake, but god. 

“Um, yeah,” you sigh out, lifting from the bed and looking back at him. Part of you wondering if that’s what it’s supposed to be like when someone gives you good head, or if that’s just…what it’s like when Jake gives head.

For some reason, you genuinely don’t think another man would ever eat you out to that level again. There’s no way, based on experience. 

“It was definitely what I needed.” 

He nods in a shy way, reminding himself that his pants are fucking nasty right now. So, he goes to stand up and extends a hand out to you. 

“Let’s go clean up.” 

You shake your head, not at all wanting to move from this bed. He nods again, pulling your shirt back down for you and leaning to look at you. 

“I’m gonna bring you something to clean up with, and I’m gonna shower.”

You smile at him, a bit dazed as you make yourself comfortable on your messy sheets as you think hard about the fact that this dopey motherfucker really never told you how good he was at this? Rude.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake looks all proud of himself when he comes back to your room and cuddles into bed with you much like he always has. 

“I didn’t expect to sleep over, I have work in the morning.” He whispers in a rasp against your back, curling around you like the perfect big spoon. 

You’re quick to turn on his work alarm on your phone, like you always do when he crashes during weeknights. Because, what best friend doesn’t have alarms set for each other anyway?

After a few more long moments of silence, you try to talk. Mostly because your brain is swimming with the fact that, like, you’re not sure but it’s just– wow. 

“Hey, um–”

“Hmm?” He hums out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” His sudden louder voice causes you to jump, but you relax back into his gasp. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responds with mock-confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him, as if to hide the way he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. For his own comfort, really.

You smile.

“And don’t tell other dudes my secrets.” He adds.

“I won't.”

Jake has his own smile from behind you, wondering if he really is just that good at eating pussy. The truth is, he’s done it a handful of times but he was just really really interested in doing it for you. For…reasons.

・・・・・・THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TWO PARTS, NOW IT’S ONE. YOU’RE WELCOME・・・・・・

“Hey, um,”

“Hmm?” Jake hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” 

You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.

It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Jake went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.

Nothing changed.

In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Jake. Sweet, caring, aloof, Jake. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.

Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward. 

You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands. 

It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him. 

Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough. 

You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did. 

Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Jake is different though. You knew he would be too.

Why is Jake any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?

He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm. 

You haven’t gone on any dates since that day, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.

So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.

That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Jake briefly mentioning Sunghoon to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time. 

Why would Sunghoon be jealous of what happened? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Jake was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend. 

Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him. 

So, texting Sunghoon? Easy. 

Thankfully, Sunghoon texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, Sunghoon sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Jake for the past couple of hours. 

You lay here in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you. And yeah, you did fucking enjoy it. 

But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Sunghoon a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Jake, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place? 

Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Sunghoon and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time. 

God, if only Jake would just talk about it.

And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability. 

And, well, you wake up much the same, except Sunghoon was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does. 

“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.” 

You quirk a brow. Right, Jake is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.

“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?” 

You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now. 

“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked thighs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.” 

You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Sunghoon must offer to all of his lovers. 

You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Jake for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts. 

“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you. 

“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Sunghoon whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.” 

You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Jay? Heeseung? Fucking Jungwon? As fucking if. 

“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.” 

And he listens. Sunghoon goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging in as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Jake isn’t the only man who can please you now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Sunghoon did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Jake did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him. 

Even so, you know Jake will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Sunghoon around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened. 

You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Sunghoon. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already. 

Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Jake, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant. 

“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Sunghoon and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even two hours after you left. 

“What?” Jake responds in confusion  to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?” 

“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed. 

“Oh god, something happened.” Jake groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.” 

Something is off, Jake can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him. 

“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Jay mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?” 

“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Sunghoon.” 

You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Jake reacts.

“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Sunghoon? Why?!” 

God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Sunghoon that day, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Sunghoon has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.” 

You refuse to pick up on Jake’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting? 

“Sunghoon? You want to fuck Sunghoon?” He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying. 

“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it. 

Jake hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.” 

He really thought he was the one who could do it for you. 

“Yeah, but–”  Jake starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over. 

He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you. 

He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Sunghoon? 

By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Sunghoon managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it. 

Whether you’re his or not, Sunghoon never should have been a fucking option. 

So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop. 

You must be talking to Sunghoon, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Jake has heard that Sunghoon knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying. 

To Jake, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do. 

He calls again. You don’t answer.

Again.

“What?!” You answer, annoyed. 

“Why would you even want Sunghoon?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all. 

It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care? 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Sunghoon. We aren’t dating, Jake.”

“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Jake argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart. 

“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

Pause.

“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks. 

“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Sunghoon is sending you and listening closely to what Jake might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.

“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”

You’re fucking appalled.

“Jake, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”

Jake sighs along with you on the other end of the line. 

“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Sunghoon’s tonight.”

“What?” Jake’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!” 

It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Sunghoon an option? Knife to the heart, honestly. 

Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this. 

You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Sunghoon.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.

“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he does….again.” An inhale. “ Yes! I’m fucking jealous!” 

You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”

You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “I’m going to kick his ass.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?” 

The confirmation of Jake being the friend who forbade Sunghoon from making a move on you is right there, clear as day. 

“Ah, so the Jake I know isn’t the Jake everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.

“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”

“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to get me off? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?” 

Jake sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation. 

“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!” 

“I’m genuinely shocked you didn’t know already. Made me think you weren’t interested enough to like–” He pauses, not wanting to be too telling. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”

You let him continue, because you can tell he’s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you. 

“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest. 

”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of it. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”

You listen to him breathe deeply, again. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”

There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you. 

“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Jake. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”

“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”

“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?” 

“No,” Jake sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.” 

“And this is you.” You confirm. 

“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.” 

You pause at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Jake you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore. 

Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you. 

“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Jake tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you. 

“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?” 

“Are you still going to fuck Sunghoon?” 

You laugh. 

“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.” 

“Get better jokes, asshole.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What the fuck?” Jake deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!” 

“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Sunghoon shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Jake, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”

Jake slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes. 

“You’re such a dick– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Sunghoon with you, the person he wants the most. 

“Damn right you don’t, because she seemed to have a great t–” 

“Sunghoon, stop. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.” 

Sunghoon’s brow raises in curiosity. 

“Ah, did you finally make a move?”

If there’s anything Jake knows Sunghoon won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Jake made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman. 

Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.

“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”

Sunghoon lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past. 

“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Jake for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-” 

“Sunghoon.” Jake warns. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Relax, jesus.” Sunghoon plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.” 

Jake rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Sunghoon becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you. 

Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs. 

Sunghoon could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Jake, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has. 

Jake comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t live. 

Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.

You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Jake working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first. 

Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard. 

What if he doesn’t show up at all? 

You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”? 

God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again. 

You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That’s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value. 

Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Jake was nothing but a one time thing for his sake. 

And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags. 

“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.” 

You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him. 

“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags. 

You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you. 

“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like that.” 

You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Jake is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.

“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug. 

“Two days too long, though.” You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back.  “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can still make it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”

You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling a bit let down. You wanted more, especially after that hug. The fact that he can contain himself right now feels isolating. Are you the only one who has a vibrating brain right now? He really wants to have the conversation at the restaurant? 

He really wants to do this the right way?

You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Jake’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling. 

“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off. 

“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.

You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you. 

“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself. 

You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.

“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.” 

Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow. 

“I think I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “Even if I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me– I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand. 

“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now. 

“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”

Jake snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him. 

“To be fair though, Jake, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”

“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant. 

You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order. 

Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing. 

“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you. 

“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table. 

“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him. 

Especially after having to be in this stupid fucking restaurant in the first place.

He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit. 

“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?” 

God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing. 

“Jake, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you want to tame yourself a little bit.

“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.” 

Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you. 

“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”

You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Jake’s eagerness to have you in full, finally. 

“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?” 

You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you. 

“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”

An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Jake. 

You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him. 

For Jake, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night. 

Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the right moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight. 

Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back. 

What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the moments he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses. 

Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant. 

You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway. 

Jake, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet. 

“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Jake’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this. 

It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over. 

“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Sungh-” 

“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Jake squeezes you tighter against you, hating himself for constantly bringing up reasons to wait. 

“If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Sunghoon’s name is forbidden.”

You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way. 

“Deal. Now, can you fucking hurry?” You roll your eyes playfully, internally a little thankful for the short moments you will have to prepare yourself for this. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Damn this shower for feeling so good. Jake could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.

It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more. 

It’s not a hook up though. Jake is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…

He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is. 

You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of it. 

Then, he’s faced with a dilemma. 

You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Jake may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.

Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you. 

Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out. 

“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–” 

Fucking pause.

God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship. 

Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you. 

You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.

“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time too,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”

That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed. 

Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own. 

The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”

Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.

Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically. 

“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.

He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now. 

Never has making out gotten him this turned on, and it’s not a surprise because it’s you. 

He half moans, half chuckles into your kiss when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against. 

“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.” 

You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.

Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his cock between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next. 

First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck. 

At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. His nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your breast. 

He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips, and he begins to nibble. 

And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.

“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?” 

You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit. 

He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.

He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples. 

Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time. 

As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you. 

“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally breathes out, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pressing your loose shorts to the side just to get the taste of you against his lips again.

Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every dip and crease of your cunt. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much. 

The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you all he’s got. 

All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react. 

Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state and made you forget about the restaurant, the shower, the weeks of pining before this. His mouth is so warm, and his vibrating moans sooth your clit through its desperate attempts to beg for more. 

You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue he’s giving you. 

He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king. 

Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers with intent, and he pulls back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.

“Fuck.” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick. 

You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers. 

“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, I can feel you squeeze my fingers–” 

And it’s true, he’s seeing stars solely because he can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…

His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the thought, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you. 

You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated digits to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation. 

You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing your shorts to stretch against the crease of your thigh. 

He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants. 

“Keep it spread open–” He mutters when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been holding your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it.”

God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole. 

You let out a pleased sigh, despite your shorts becoming a nuisance at this point. It’s easy to forget you’re still wearing them though, because they only become drenched more and more as the moments pass with Jake.

You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for. 

“Jake–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.

There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can in this moment. 

His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if or when he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.

There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down to take over for him.

In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.

He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours. 

And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, your shorts being stretched until they’re sliding down your thighs and off of you, and then the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time. 

His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. 

“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.

And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.

“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and expect me to be gentle…” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”

You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most. 

“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself. 

“Oh, fuck–” He chokes out before sucking in a breath and letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point. 

“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation. 

That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have. 

Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your shoulders, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels. 

He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes white when the stretch hits you.

So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you at all, actually

“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Jake, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is. 

It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer. 

Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet. 

“Shh–” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.

His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now. 

You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against you before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second. 

His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.

Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again. 

His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that’s only becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding. 

“Yeah, yeah–” Jake suddenly chimes with out of breath words, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his and picking up a different pace.

This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again. 

“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.” 

Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Those words feel so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true. 

You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head. 

That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly how he wants you to feel. 

“Ahh, you like that?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more. 

“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you’re confident like this–”

He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by them from this point forward. He truly doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to make an attempt to fuck you the way he does. 

And then the room falls silent again, as if Jake is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place. 

His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act. 

You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to cum? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate? 

None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking and timidly looking down at you. 

“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you. 

You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.

There, he loses himself, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full. 

“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Fuck, I really can’t.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his strings of cum ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense. 

It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.

You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.

And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–

“What the fu–” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Jake, Fuck–yes, right there.” You continue to groan when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm. 

You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone is enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.

Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm. 

You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster than he offered before.

And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.

Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles. 

You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone. 

He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you. 

A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he finally rolls off of you and right up against your side. 

“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud. 

“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.

“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Sunghoon see you act like that too?” 

You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him. 

“You’re insane if you think Sunghoon is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”

Jake glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in.

“Well,” He starts, pausing and feeling that little pit in his stomach return. “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.” 

You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are. 

“Jake, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”

He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach. And then? He groans. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached. 

Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Sunghoon without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.

Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed down by pining or lust. 

As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it. 

Romance isn’t dead, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it. 

[carebearbussy]

ᥫ᭡ thinking about heian era! sukuna having a heavy breeding kink, seemingly out of nowhere.

you bring up a mere idea at dinner, the conversation quickly turning normal, to you bringing up an idea he had never given a second thought to.

"do you ever want kids with me, 'kuna?"

you would ask him, innocently enough, a sickeningly sweet tone hidden beneath your words. but you would already know the answer to this question. he would look up at you, then back down at his food, annoyance pondering his mind. eating a slab of salmon sashimi, he took a bite, chewing slow enough to hint at his potential answer. placing down his chopsticks, he would look back up at you, scoffing to himself at your foolish inquiry.

"those small, annoying humans that require too much attention for their own good? no thank you, i have better things to attend to."

he says, focusing on the meal before him. but his thoughts soon get the best of him. and now that he thinks about it, he will need an heir eventually. and not only that, but what would you be like? as a mother specifically. you would require more attention than most of the time. which was something he secretly enjoyed indulging in, despite his negative reasoning towards infants. how would you look?

you would be more swollen than usual, you stomach would grow larger by day, your breasts will most definitely become more full by the day. the bigger picture, which was you, enticed him in a way. something about seeing you round with his child really had his head going.

and so thats how you ended up here, you knees tightly locked against your stomach, as sukuna absolutely plows into your already stuffed cunt.

this was the seventh time? eighth time? at this point, you couldn't keep track. but he had came wayyyy too many times more than an average man should be able to. it was excruciating, really, the whimpers leaving your mouth, his hands bringing your knees closer to your chest with every move of his hips.

his seed was leaking out of you, glop by glop, dripping down your bottom even more, as he kept going harder and rougher. splashes of your juices paired with his cum stained the bed, the squelching of your pussy becoming deafening with every smack of his heavy balls against the rim of your ass. and the tight grip he had on your locks wasn't helping his case.

"hah, you're gonna give your king his offspring? yeah? r' you gonna be a good little mother f'me? make me an heir?"

he asks, your head barely able to focus on anything other than trying to stay sane. you felt sooo full, but this apparently wasn't enough for sukuna, or his heavy urges to breed your sloppy cunt. you nod eagerly, not wanting him to go any harder than he already has. but with the way he kept abusing your womb, it seemed like you were enjoying it, as sukuna relishes in your facial expression, your eyes rolling back, your mouth hung open wide enough to stuff two of his free fingers in.

"you'd be such a good mother, so obedient too. you wanted to rile me up, didn't you? i'll give you what you want, woman."

moaning into his fingers, you swirl your tongue around his digits, making him hum contently. you try to focus your vision onto his eyes, but the way he pushed his chest further into yours, had you practically cross eyed. hitting a new angle, you felt yourself completely let go, officially adding onto your list of orgasms you had previously had that night.

he released his fingers from your mouth, a coat of your saliva stringing upon release. he ceases to pull out of you, instead letting himself nuzzle nicely into your warmth, releasing yet again inside of you, earning a whine of complaint on your behalf. he playfully slaps your cheek with his wet hand, trailing it down to your pussy, playing in the ring of his semen around his cock. you squirm slightly, as you watch him then bring his cum coated fingers up to your mouth, pushing them back inside your mouth, making you taste his seed, some of his cum pooling around your lips.

"does that taste good? i bet it does, since you seem to love my seed so much. i cant wait to see you so full, besides from right now, of course."

[seumyo]

will bakugou choose seoul, korea or your wedding anniversary?

Bakugou had turned the damn house upside down three times.

“Where the hell is it?” He hissed under his breath, storming through the hallway closet for the third time in two days. He’d torn apart the shoe rack, the document folders, and even flipped through the cookbooks in the kitchen, just in case he’d used it as a bookmark. No dice. The damn passport was still missing.

His hair was sticking up more than usual—half from stress, half from the static of the hoodie he’d thrown on that morning in frustration. They were supposed to leave for Korea in three days. Three. It was the biggest pro-hero conference he’d ever been invited to—panel talks, interviews, awards. Best Jeanist, Lemillion, and even Halfie had their confirmations sent in already.

And what did he have?

An expired copy of his license (he got a new one; the expired one’s just in his drawer), a half-crushed protein bar, and a very pouty, very pregnant wife in the living room.

You had your feet up on the couch, ankles slightly swollen beneath the oversized hoodie you’d stolen from his wardrobe. You were scrolling on your phone with one hand, the other resting on your baby bump, lazily tracing circles. When Bakugou stomped past, you looked up with the slow blink of a cat.

“Still lost?” you asked, not bothering to hide your amusement. Even laughed under your breath.

The audacity, he thinks, though it wasn’t frustration. He could never be mad at you.

Because he knows you’ll get mad at him, too.

Bakugou didn’t answer. He grunted instead, pulling out another drawer in the cabinet near the TV.

“Maybe it grew legs and walked off,” you teased. “Or maybe your big fat ego swallowed it.”

He shot you a look. “Not helping.”

You hummed. “Not trying to.”

Your pout had gotten more dramatic since hitting six months. Bakugou noticed it more these days, how you’d stare down your food like it personally offended you, or how you’d sigh theatrically every time the topic of even him leaving the house came up. At first, you’d been supportive—even joked that you’d video call him during the conference and heckle him from the screen. But once you found out the biggest day of the event landed on your wedding anniversary, the whole game changed.

Suddenly he feels like he’s on house arrest.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” you murmured, taking a sip of the juice he made you this morning. “Maybe you’re meant to stay home this time.”

Bakugou scoffed. As if.

“Ain’t no damn sign. It’s just misplacin’ shit.”

“You don’t have to go,” you said again. “You could stay. Cuddle me. Eat cake. Listen to me cry about clouds.”

“You said I could go if I find my passport,” he pouts, brows furrowed, and his lips jutted slightly.

“I did, and don’t be mad,” you replied. “I want you to go. Really. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Then why do you look like you wanna punch me in the throat?”

You blinked at him. “Because it’s our anniversary and I’m hormonal. Sue me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So I hope you don’t find it.”

That was the end of that conversation.

-

The night before their anniversary came sooner than expected.

Bakugou had made a reservation at one of the nicest rooftop restaurants in the city. Private booth, soft fairy lights, cityscape twinkling behind them. The host even laid a small bouquet of lavender on the table when he told them it was for a special occasion. He hadn’t told you where you were going, only grunted, “Wear that dress you like—that comfy one. You know the one.”

He hadn’t mentioned anything new about the passport ordeal. You, who figured he’d either given up or accepted fate, were mostly content to enjoy the evening.

You looked like a dream, so his focus was entirely on you. Someone who he somehow managed to have (maybe his bond with his guardian angels came in clutch and even contacted Cupid himself to arrange an arrow for you two).

You waddled into the restaurant, cheeks a little fuller, eyes glowing. He still looked at you like he couldn’t believe he got so lucky. He thinks it makes you shy, how intense his gaze got, even after everything—the morning sickness, the mood swings, the late-night hospital runs due to paranoia.

“You okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your lower back as you walked in.

“Mm,” you hummed, leaning into his touch. You could barely hide your smile at this point. “You’re staring.”

He didn’t even deny it. “I am? So what? Can’t a man just appreciate his wife?”

Dinner went well, for the most part.

You had one hand on your belly, the other wrapped around his fingers on the table. You were halfway through your chocolate mousse when Bakugou reached into his jacket pocket and slid something across the table.

“No,” you said slowly, setting your spoon down. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.”

He didn’t look smug at all, more like... hopeful.

Your brows furrowed. You reached for the passport, flipping it open.

There it was. His damn passport. Found. Intact. Stamped. His most recent picture was taken only a few months ago.

Yoh stared at it. Then at you. Then back at it again.

“…You found it?”

“Yup.”

“Where was it?”

He cleared his throat, gaze shifting to the side.

“…Behind the dresser in the guest room. Stuffed in that red envelope labeled ‘Important Shit,’ which you labeled in your handwriting, by the way.”

You paused. Your cheeks puffed again as your lips turned downward in the softest pout he’d ever seen. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, spoon idle.

“You’re really gonna go?”

“I want to,” he admitted. “But I don’t wanna leave you pissed off and lonely, either.”

You didn’t say anything at first. Just poked at your mousse with your spoon. Your lashes were low, and he could tell you were struggling. Not angry, just…sad.

Finally, you said, “It’s just one. It’s just one anniversary. We’ll have dozens more, right?”

“We will. We’ll have centuries more.”

“…And you’ll video call me. Every day.”

“Morning and night.”

“And text me when you land. And when you eat. And when you leave the venue. And—”

Bakugou reached across the table and tugged gently at your hand. His hands are rough against yours, but they’re filled with sincerity and utmost love that a man could give to his wife.

“Hey.”

You looked up.

His voice softened.

“Seriously, d’ya think I’d leave you without a plan?”

You blinked.

“I’m leavin’ you flowers and your cake. I told Kirishima to drop off that spa basket thing you said you wanted last month. And your mom’s stayin’ over the night of. I made sure. I even stocked the fridge.”

Your mouth parted slightly, tilting your head to the side. “You…did all that?”

“Yeah.” He looked almost bashful now, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t want you to think I forgot. Even if I ain’t here physically. I’m still here.”

Your eyes shimmered just a bit. A good sign, Bakugou notes.

Then you smiled—soft and tired and affectionate.

“God, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Tch. Don’t cry. I’ll look like an asshole.”

You laughed then, nose crinkling. “You are an asshole. But a sweet one.”

“Yeah, you love me.”

“I do.”

You two didn’t talk about the passport again that night. Not after that.

Instead, you finished dessert. Slowly. Your hand stayed in his the whole time.

When you walked out of the restaurant, he kept his arm around your shoulders, guiding you carefully down the steps like you were made of glass. You leaned into him, soft and warm, your belly pressing into his side.

And when they got home, you told him, “Let’s open the anniversary cake early.”

He didn’t say no. Not when you looked that happy. It doesn’t matter that he’s already full from the chocolate mousse you two had earlier.

When night finally settled, and Bakugou’s wiping the excess frosting off the corners of your lips with a napkin, he hears you say, “Come home soon, okay?”

He nodded, then softly kissed the crown of your head.

“Always.”

Always come home to you.

-

The morning of Bakugou’s flight started earlier than usual.

He had been up before the alarm even went off, brushing his teeth with the kind of intensity that only came from years of military-grade discipline… or nerves (also because he wants all bad germs on his mouth to die). Not that he’d ever admit to the latter. He stood in front of the mirror, towel slung low on his hips, steam curling from the hot shower as he stared at his reflection.

This was it. The day he was supposed to fly out to Korea.

Except—he wasn’t going.

Not really.

He’d made his decision last night, somewhere between the weight of your hug and the feel of your heartbeat against his body when you fell asleep on his chest. The moment you started snoring softly, your nose slightly buried in his shirt, he realized there was no way in hell he was getting on that plane.

Not this time.

But you didn’t need to know that just yet.

Because if there was one thing Bakugou knew about his wife, it was that you’d throw a fit if he skipped a life-changing professional opportunity just to spend your anniversary folding baby laundry and rubbing your swollen ankles. Plus, he knew you’d never allow him to stay. And if you knew he was lying about leaving, you’d huff and puff until he actually made him go.

So, he planned ahead. Like a goddamn mastermind.

By the time you woke up—slightly groggy with pillow lines on your cheek—he had already “packed.” His suitcase was zipped shut and positioned neatly by the door. His travel duffle bag sat upright next to it. His travel documents were tucked inside an envelope labeled “Do Not Open Unless Emergency.” (Totally blank inside.)

You blinked at him sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you waddled into the living room in his oversized T-shirt. One of the many shirts he was sure was missing from his closet.

“You already packed?” you murmured, voice small and pouty.

He turned from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. Acting too nonchalant to not give anything away.

“Yeah,” he said. “Didn’t wanna rush.”

You crossed your arms over your bump. “It’s only a three-hour flight, Katsuki. Not an expedition to the Arctic.”

“Still gotta prep,” he said, biting back a grin.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, but the smell of something sweet distracted you. Bingo.

He stepped aside, revealing a neatly arranged dessert box sitting on the counter. Inside: four of your favorites—strawberry shortcake with extra whipped cream, a slice of creamy Basque burnt cheesecake, a generous portion of tiramisu, and your current obsession: mango sticky rice.

“You bought me desserts?” you awed.

“I bought you a stack,” he corrected. “Don’t think I don’t know you get all sad and start craving sugar when I leave.”

You scoffed. “I do not.”

“You do,” he said, crossing his arms smugly. “You pouted so hard last time I left, I came back to find the fridge empty and you passed out with a half-eaten ice cream tub on the couch.”

“That was one time!”

“And I’m not takin’ chances.”

He bent forward, pressed a kiss to your cheek, then to your rounded belly. “Eat well. Don’t lift anything heavy. Text me when you’re sleepy. I’ll land by lunch. Kirishima’s already on the way, but it’ll take a while because of traffic since the bridge is getting repaired.”

“You’re acting suspicious,” you said, frowning as you clung to his shirt. “You never say goodbye this… nicely.”

“That’s rude,” he muttered. “I’m always nice.”

“No, you’re normally grumpy and say something like, ‘Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.’”

He smirked. You weren’t wrong entirely.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna come back to find out you’ve cried over an empty dessert box.”

Your lip wobbled, and he kissed you again—softly this time, with an extra squeeze to your waist.

“I’ll be back before you know it. It’s just for two nights.”

-

He left around nine. Or at least, pretended to.

Instead of heading to the airport, he drove straight to his agency, parked in the underground garage, and holed up in his office. There was a bottle of juice in the mini fridge, emergency snacks in the bottom drawer, and an absurd number of congratulatory emails flooding his inbox that he ignored.

The hours ticked by slowly.

He checked his phone a dozen times. No calls. No texts. Just one blurry photo from you of the dessert box with the caption: You’re lucky I’m in a sugar coma right now. Or I’d be mad you left without triple kissing me goodbye.

He snorted.

Around lunchtime, he got restless. Then irritated.

Then, at exactly 1:00 P.M., he got in the car and drove home.

No warning.

No heads-up.

He half-expected you to be lounging in the living room, watching drama reruns and fanning yourself while complaining about heartburn. But when he pulled up the driveway and unlocked the front door—

The house was suspiciously quiet.

His brows pulled together.

“[Name]?” he called out, stepping in.

Nothing.

He frowned and shut the door behind him, stepping out of his boots. He heard a thud from the back hallway. Then a low grunt. A shuffle.

His eyes narrowed.

Then he heard you muttering.

“Come on, come on, I’m not that heavy—”

He rounded the corner—and stopped cold.

There you were.

Standing in the hallway. Sweaty. Red-faced. Holding a large box half your size with both hands, your bump barely giving you enough room to balance it. Your lip was caught between your teeth as you struggled to carry what was definitely one of the boxes he had explicitly labeled: Do Not Touch.

“…What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You screamed.

You literally screamed—jumping nearly out of your skin, eyes wide like you saw a ghost.

Or a burglar.

Or both, at this point.

“—Katsuki! I thought you were in Korea—what the hell—”

“Put the box down.”

“You can’t just walk in like that, I thought—I—”

“Put it down, [Name].”

You dropped it with a loud thunk, wobbling backward and grabbing your shoulders.

“Oh my god, I thought you were a home invader! I was ready to throw a candle at you—why are you back?!”

Bakugou marched toward you, still wide-eyed with a mixture of rage and pure panic. He can’t believe this at all. “More importantly, why the fuck are you lifting boxes?!”

“I was bored!”

“Bored? So you decided to tear a disc and pop a blood vessel?!”

“I didn’t tear anything! And it wasn’t heavy; it’s mostly baby blankets!”

He crouched down instantly to pick it up—still heavy, despite your excuses—and carried it to the nursery, grumbling the entire way. “Goddamn woman’s gonna give me a stroke,” he muttered, though there was never any heat in his words.

You waddled after him, still stunned.

“Wait. Why are you here?!”

“I never left.”

“You… what?”

“I stayed at the agency. Figured I’d come back after you thought I was gone. Catch you red-handed.”

“You liar!”

He turned toward you, his frustration subsiding.

“You’re not even a good liar! You went full fake goodbye mode this morning! You even left me mango sticky rice!”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I knew you’d snoop around and start being reckless the second you thought no one was watching.”

Your cheeks puffed up again. That damn pout.

“I was just nesting,” you mumbled.

“Nesting doesn’t involve deadlifting half a closet,” he shot back. “You promised you’d take it easy.”

“…I thought you were in Korea.”

“Yeah, well, again, surprise.”

You blinked up at him again, eyes soft now, overwhelmed. “…You really stayed just for me?”

When he sets the boxes down, he exhaled and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye. “You really thought I’d leave you alone on our anniversary? Pregnant? Carrying boxes? Eating dessert by yourself? What do you take me for? A shitty husband?”

You hit his chest weakly.

“You’re so unfair,” you muttered.

“I know,” he grinned. “And I love you.”

You melted then. Completely.

Wrapping your arms around him, your bump pressing into his stomach, you buried your face in his chest and whispered: “I love you too, you dramatic maniac.”

That night, there was no flight. No press. No conference.

Just takeout on the couch, your feet in his lap, mango sticky rice on your plate, and his hand splayed across your belly like a homecoming gift.

Bakugou may have missed a headline.

But he made the right choice.

And that mattered more.

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

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can’t stop thinking the tall horror men of homicipher. I’m like 5ft something, so I know damn well these men tower over me…am I discovering something? Maybe 👀👀👀but I know I ain’t alone. TRUE STORY: Also there was this guy that came into my place of work moths ago with his family and he was TALL, bending down to get through the doorframe TALL but he was lovely.

So how do I imagine these boy would react if they see that you’re clearly ogling them for how tall they were.

Mr crawling

Given the fact that you’ve only seen him stand once, it was enough to have your jaw dropping to the floor. He was taller than the fucking doorway that he had to manoeuvre himself under it, and suddenly you’ve forgotten that you were being kidnapped by Mr Stitch, too intrigued by his height and now understanding why he had lied to you about his ability to stand.

He thought he would scare you but in fact made you feel the complete opposite, you loved how tall he was and you couldn’t get it out of your head, even when he’s back on his hands and knees to comfort you. The illusion had worn off and now you wanted to see him tall all the time, but you didn’t want to pressure him into doing so unless he felt comfortable.

‘You’re tall, really tall.’ You said in awe as Mr crawling coddled you against his chest.

‘Scared?’ He asked as though he was fearing your answer, which broke your heart as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder in an attempt of comfort.

‘No, handsome.’ You replied as Mr Crawling made chirps and purrs of happiness as he held you closer to him.

While he’s still not fond on standing to his full height, the fear of his intimating stature would chase you away one day embedded in his heavily, he would find some comfort in knowing that you loved his tall stature and love you even more for not forcing him to do something he clearly was uncomfortable with; preferring to shower him in kisses and remind him that whether he’s standing or on his hands and knees you loved him regardless.

Mr silvair

The man can feel your eyes on his back constantly. He knows he’s taller than most but the way you looked and admired his full height like you wouldn’t be able to anymore.

He wonders whether this was something only you seemed to have or whether other humans also felt possessed by the need to gawk at people above a certain height. Or was it just you that has this particular expression upon seeing his tall stature in general.

He would take notes of how his height seemingly did something to you that then triggered a chemical reaction within your brain to make you find his height appealing and possibly a requirement in finding your perfect romantic partner.

Or more specifically people of similar height to Mr Silvair himself or anyone close enough to his height to qualify. Mr Silvair soon deduced that you liked the domineering presence of someone much bigger than you, someone who’s able to drag you wherever as though you were nothing but weightless to them, almost like a ragdoll.

He’d soon find that this is in most cases considered a kink amongst you humans who found the height difference between partner rather erotic.

Mr Scarletella

Finds your content ogling of him flattering and thinks that it means that you were finally, finally reciprocating his obsession with you for your own obsession with him.

He’s another one who takes note of how you like how tall he is in comparison to you, always looking at him whenever he was entering the room, eyes widening when you see him having to bed down to get through the doorway, and your eyes never leave him even as he’s walking towards you; seemingly getting taller with each step until he’s in front of you and you’re looking at him in awe and hitched breath.

He’s obsessed with your expression each and every time and uses his height to his advantage. Such as doing things like putting his hand above your head and on the wall, looking down at you with those obsessive eyes of his as his smile seemed to widen upon hearing your breath hitch and eyes widen once more.

His height continued to elicit a reaction out of you that Mr Scarletella loved and adored and wanted to see more of in the future.

Mr Hood

Finds your constant ogling of his height interesting.

He didn’t know why you were so surprised he’s this tall, he’s been with you this entire time and it was only recently did your mind seemed to inform you of your Incredibly stark height difference, and bam! Suddenly he’s the subject of your constant staring and ogling as though it would be the last thing you did.

It was humorous to say the least and will earn you some head pats and cheek caresses that has you leaning towards his comforting and gentle touches.

It wasn’t something that you hide from him as half of the time you didn’t realise you were doing it until Mr Hood pointed it out with curiosity, meanwhile your left flustered as your mind held certain thoughts towards his legs, thighs and large hands.

Poor Mr Hood, he understood to some extent but after a certain point it’s better to explain to him that you find his height rather appealing to you in more ways than one.

[moonstruckme]

love of my life, queen of all things smut and marauders..........I have a request if you don't mind 😈 I was thinking of this with Sirius, but it could truly be whoever you think fits. But what do you think of a fic where reader x Sirius have sex for the first time (FWB, relationship, whatever fits the vibe), and Sirius finishes and moves his attention to reader who goes "oh it's alright, I've never been successful at that part of sex before...." & then it becomes this fun challenge for Sirius who spends the rest of the evening finding out what works for her until he finally gets her off 😃 xoxoxoxooxoxoxo

Thanks for the request and for weathering the long wait gorgeous Elle <3

cw: smut mdni, reader is afab and has trouble with orgasming

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Fuck.” Sirius’ forehead crashes into yours, his breath hot on your lips. “Are you close?” 

“You should come.” Your voice is tight, strained, though not nearly so much as his. 

“Not before you.” 

“Please, Sirius.” You both moan as he thrusts deeper inside you, your legs squeezing tight around his middle. “Please, I want you to.” 

“I don’t—shit.” 

His brow tenses along with the rest of him as he spills into you. You feel the condom fill up with a heady satisfaction. You run your hands up his back soothingly, until he relaxes into you. 

“Fuck, gorgeous.” Sirius tilts his face to kiss at the slope of your cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I would…you just feel too good, have you gotten that complaint before?”

You laugh. “It’s not usually a complaint.” 

“No, but in this case…” He tuts, picking his head up to look at you. You expect to be self-conscious—it’s your first time seeing each other like this, and part of you is still fighting the urge to cover up and preserve your modesty—but the heavy drag of his gaze only makes you feel admired. “Well, anyways, sorry. How close are you?” 

“Oh, it’s okay.” You smile at him. Your finger traces the line of a tattoo on his bicep. “Don’t worry about it. I had fun.” 

Sirius blinks, and then his brows come down. “Hold on, that’s not fair. I want to get you off.” 

“Sirius, it’s really fine. I’m not…” You hesitate. You and Sirius have been friends for a while; it’s not as though you haven’t shared secrets before. And given what you’ve just shared with each other, you shouldn’t probably be embarrassed, but… “I haven’t exactly been…successful at that part of sex before.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows furrow as though he doesn’t quite understand what you mean. 

“I haven’t come,” you clarify. 

His eyes widen, lips parting. It’s horrendously attractive, worse with him still inside you. “You haven’t?” 

You shake your head. 

“Not ever?” 

You shake your head again. 

“Not even by yourself?” 

“Let’s just assume the answer to all of these questions is going to be no.” He shifts in you slightly, and you squirm. “Can you…?” 

“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Sirius pulls out of you, looking somewhat awed. “So, forgive me, but what exactly are you getting out of this if you don’t expect to come?” 

You give him a droll look. “I guess I’m just a giver.” 

It’s more true than you let on. You enjoyed yourself more than you expected just now, watching Sirius come, knowing it was the sight of you and the feel of your flesh under his hands that did it. You hope he lets you do it again.

“I don’t have to come to have good sex,” you say in a more genuine tone. “It’s still fun for me.” 

“Right. Right, yeah, but—” 

“Listen, I’m only telling you so you don’t take it personally. It’s not a you thing, it’s just…” You gesture helplessly. “I’m not sure I can.” 

Sirius looks indignant. “I’m sure you can.” 

“I haven’t found any proof.” 

“Well, it’s—there’s a first time for everybody, doll. Can I try?” 

You sit up, drawing your legs closer and forcing him to sit back. “I told you, it’s not you.” 

“It could be me, though.” He grins roguishly. 

You roll your eyes, fighting a smile. “Don’t make this a pride thing.” 

“I’m not. I’m not, babe.” Sirius scoots towards you. He looks at you, sincere. “But it could be any number of factors, you know? Maybe you just haven’t tried the right thing, or there’s a lubrication issue, or something. It would be fun to try.” 

You rub your lips together. “It’d probably be a waste of time. And I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work.” 

“I won’t be,” he promises. He crawls toward you on the bed, taking your ankle in hand to tug you closer. Your heart riots at the sight. “Let’s waste some time, gorgeous. I’ve got nothing else to do tonight. And you said you have fun even if you don’t finish, right?” 

“Right,” you admit. 

Sirius grins, flashing canines. “Lay back, then. Let me play with you a while.” 

It doesn’t take long to figure out that lubrication is not the issue. Between Sirius’ hands and his mouth, you’re spilled like warm honey across his sheets in minutes. He bites marks into your thighs, goes from gentle to masochistic to gentle again with his hands on your breasts, curls his fingers inside you so that you make sounds you don’t recognize. All the while, he calls you sweet names rolled up in taunts, making your cheeks burn and your body seem to give up any will of its own. It begins to feel cruel; the combination of who Sirius is and what he can do to you.

But it’s when he uses his tongue that you start to tremble. 

Your hand clamps blindly down on his shoulder, caught between keeping him close and pushing him away. Sirius’ hum, heavy with smugness and intrigue, is a vibration like you’ve never felt before. He takes your clit into his mouth. 

It’s altogether too much and not enough. You shift your hips, gasping, but after a while your breaths even into a steadier pant. You start to adjust to this new pleasure. Just when you think you’ve got it under control, you’re safe, Sirius slips his wicked fingers into your entrance again. 

“There you are.” His voice thrums with satisfaction as he kisses your clit. “You’ve been so good, sweetheart. So patient.” 

“Sirius, I—”

“What?” 

“I feel—” 

“What, pretty girl?” 

“Sirius.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m being mean.” He nibbles ever so gently at your clit, making you jolt away from him. Your walls clench around his fingers. “You’re just so much fun when you’re worked up like this, I can’t help myself.” 

He curls his fingers into that torturous spot along your inner wall, and what you want isn’t more sensation, but you can no longer find the words to tell him so. You dig your nails into Sirius’ shoulders and squeeze your eyes shut, feeling on the precipice of something great and terrible. Some kind of wreckage. 

“You’re okay, doll,” Sirius soothes. “You’re just fine. You like this, don’t you? Don’t you want to come?” 

With his low, sweet question, you do. You wreck like a ship against the shoreline. Splintering, screaming, crashing and drowning. Sirius laughs like the enemy vessel as you do.

It’s some time later when the stars clear from behind your eyes. You let out a shuddering breath. “Fuck.” 

“Mhm. That’s usually how it goes.” Sirius is all tenderness now. He kisses up your sweaty, overworked abdomen until he reaches your collarbone, where he nibbles rewardingly. “Good job, sweetness. And good job me, if I do say so myself.” 

You open your eyes to peek at him through your lashes. “Aren’t I supposed to say so?” 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your chin. “Fairly sure you just did. I wouldn’t have guessed you had sounds like that in you.” 

“Me neither,” you admit. 

“Well, now I’ve got something new to work towards, I suppose.” 

“Sirius,” you sigh. “That was the first time I’ve ever come, and it took nearly an hour. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do that again.” 

“Oh, such a defeatist.” Sirius cups your face in his hands, thumbs moving sweetly down your cheeks as he presses a firm kiss to your lips. “I meant getting those sounds out of you again. But don’t worry, gorgeous, we’ll manage both.”