#pls reblog if you enjoy this!!

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Sugar

best friend!san x fem reader

Trigger warnings: none that i can think of

Content warnings: names (sweetheart, baby, sugar), oral (m&f receiving), choking (briefly), breeding, dacryphilia (kinda?), san’s got a big dick (what else is new) and is down horrendous for mc.

Summary: your best friend just can’t keep his hands to himself

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: hey babes! i finally finished it!!! its unpolished as fuck but it’s done!!! it’s only taken me forty-seven years 🥴 not saying this is a full comeback as i’m still dealing with some personal shit but i hope i’ll have something else for you relatively soon. anyways, pls reblog if you enjoy the story!! 🥰🫶🏻

Tags: @bahng-chrizz @foxinnie8

Smut below the cut

Most likely to remain high school sweethearts. That’s the yearbook superlative you and your best friend had been awarded your senior year of high school. The kicker? You had never dated him. The thought had just never crossed your mind. You were content being the hot best friends that everyone either wanted to get with or wanted to be. He wasn’t, but you didn’t know that.

Choi San had harbored the biggest crush on you since the two of you were fifteen. He’d gone through a hard breakup back then, his ex spreading rumors and lies all through school, and despite claiming he was fine because he was a player, he was heartbroken. He had been in love with the girl and she’d broken his heart and tried to ruin his reputation. So when you comforted him and confronted his ex, which ended in a cat fight in the hallway that got both of you suspended, he began to fixate on you. He dated around to keep his mind busy and off you, but he was infatuated with his best friend. With the girl who would throw down with anyone who wronged him.

He’d been heartbroken when he found out you were going away for college instead of staying local, even more so when he realized the school you’d chosen didn’t have the major he wanted. He was distraught at first, thinking you’d be too far apart to visit often. Every school he looked at seemed so far away from yours until he found the school where he was currently enrolled. This one was only an hour drive away from you and he was relieved to find that your schedule at your part time job still allowed for you two to take turns visiting each other every weekend.

You were oblivious to his feelings. You often noticed how he had trouble sleeping at your apartment but whenever you asked, he claimed he’d developed insomnia. He hadn’t, he just couldn’t sleep because of the thoughts that filled his mind from knowing you were in the next room. He felt guilty to be honest. He was constantly having dirty thoughts that normal people didn’t have about their best friend. Your mere presence reduced him to little more than a giddy, horny teenager.

You also noticed that he became more clingy after the two of you left for college but you never addressed that. He was always an affectionate person and adjusting to college life was definitely hard, so you figured it was probably that. That was part of it. But really, he just missed you. It was that simple. He missed his best friend and his heart leapt every time you opened your door or he opened his. Seeing your face made everything so much better.

Today was no different. He lit up like a neon sign when your door swung open to reveal you in a cropped white hoodie and a pair of black yoga pants, a bright smile on your face. “Sannie!” You held your arms open and he immediately stepped inside, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. Everything that had been bothering him up until that moment melted away as you hugged him, your grip tightening right before you stepped back. Oh how he loved your hugs.

You led him inside and motioned for him to sit on the sofa as you grabbed the bag of goodies you’d bought the night before. “I got your favorites.” You grinned as you rejoined him, opening the bag to show him the snacks, sodas, and alcohol you’d purchased. “Oh, also, my roommate is staying with her boyfriend this weekend so you can yell at the tv all you want, we don’t have to be quiet.”

He managed to conceal the excitement he felt at your words, knowing you didn’t mean what he was thinking. “Noted.” He hummed as he settled in. “Are we picking back up where we left off on that anime?”

“We can. I think we can finish the next season if we stay glued to the couch all weekend.” You hummed as you began to stage the snacks on the coffee table, only then realizing you’d forgotten glasses for the alcohol. “We can watch something else if you don’t want to watch that though. I’ve got some other streaming services if you wanna watch a drama.” You shrugged as you got up, heading to the kitchenette.

When you came back, he was sprawled out on your couch. His arms were resting on the back and he had the full man spread going on. He kind of resembled a starfish like that and you rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. You froze when he let out a low groan as he stretched, throwing his head back. Suddenly, images of you getting him off flashed in your mind. “Let’s watch that. We can watch a drama next weekend.”

You cleared your throat a bit and nodded as you recovered. “Okie dokie.” You singsonged as you joined him, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat but still leaving enough space that you didn’t have those thoughts again. Where the fuck had that come from? You grabbed one of the bags of chips and settled in, his arm sliding down from the back of the couch to rest on your shoulders as you pulled up the show.

The episode started and you opened the bag, offering it up to San, who shook his head. “I’m good right now, sugar.” You shrugged and leaned into him, pulling your legs up underneath you. He tensed when he realized he’d called you something he’d only imagined calling you but you didn’t seem to mind so he forced himself to relax.

What you didn’t address was the surge of arousal that flooded your body. You were a bitch for pet names and he knew that. You weren’t sure why you were turned on by his words, though. It was San. Sure he was beautiful but he had never affected you like this before. Clearly it had been too long since the last time you’d slept with someone.

Your eyes locked on the screen and you focused solely on that for four episodes before you became aware of the ache in your joints. You’d managed to sit perfectly still for two hours straight and now your body was screaming at you to move. You gently shrugged San’s arm off your shoulders and stood as the fifth episode began, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as you stretched your muscles and cracked every joint you could.

The sound of your voice caught San’s attention and his eyes locked on the exposed portion of your back, wondering what it would feel like to press kisses there. Should I try and find out? Absolutely not. Why the fuck would you even think about that? Fucking dumbass. He shook his head and let out a sigh just as you turned to ask him if he needed anything from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” You asked softly, noticing how irritated and distressed he looked.

“Huh?” His head snapped up and his jaw dropped slightly before he recovered. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He gave you a warm smile and you responded with a confused but playful wrinkle of your nose before heading off to grab a water. That was fucking close.

You opened the bottle and took a big gulp as you reentered the room, finding him sitting up properly now. He patted the spot next to him and you plopped down beside him, leaning back into his side, this time with your back to him. You brought your feet back up on the couch and took his hand, guiding his arm around your neck in a hug and tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

As you once again became enthralled with the show, his fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on the side of your neck. You shuddered at his touch every few minutes but didn’t register any of it as you focused on the tv. You whined a little when he moved his arm back to the back of the sofa but didn’t protest further, too invested in the show to care too much. You shifted to rest your head on San’s lap, grabbing one of the throw pillows to lay on.

With you stretched out like this, San was struggling to focus on the show. He was fixated on your exposed belly and began to discreetly drop his arm off the back of the couch towards your waist. He bit his lip as his hand made contact with your warm flesh, trying to appear focused on the show like you. You glanced up at him and took a moment to admire the view of his jawline before poking his chin. He looked startled and almost guilty when his gaze met yours. “What’s up with you today?” You asked in a teasing tone. “You seem extra cuddly and touchy-feely.”

“What, I can’t be touchy-feely with my best friend?” He grinned down at you and something in you shifted. “I just missed you. We used to see each other every day and for the last two years we’ve only been able to see each other on weekends.”

“Simpler times.” You sighed and turned your attention back to the screen, not bothering to move his hand. It felt nice.

He was surprised that you hadn’t swatted him away but he certainly wasn’t about to complain when you were delicately tracing shapes on the back of his hand. His heart was pounding and he was thankful you hadn’t continued with that line of questioning because he wasn’t sure if he could form a coherent sentence at this point. He should’ve known better than to start to get comfortable though. The second his hand wandered a bit higher, you grabbed his wrist and he froze. Fuck.

“That’s more than touchy-feely, San, that was almost my titty.” You didn’t appear to move your attention from the tv but all you could think about was just how close his hand was to your chest. What had gotten into him? And why were you so affected by his touch? You were just friends…right?

“Oh…sorry.” He mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant despite his internal panic. You didn’t buy it though and looked up at him again, taking note of his flaming cheeks. Cute.

“Seriously, San, what’s actually going on with you?” You hated how harsh your voice came out. You hated the way he flinched at your words. You weren’t trying to scold him, you wanted to put out feelers.

“Nothing.” He shook his head and refused to look at you. You thought for a moment before biting your lip. You clearly didn’t buy it and wanted to ask if he was thinking what you were so suddenly thinking. You were about to speak up when he continued. “I’m just tired. Come cuddle.” He opened his arms.

“Tired already?” He nodded. “Must suck to be any woman you fuck.” You snorted.

“I’ll have you know I have excellent stamina, thank you.” He fired back instantly and you laughed. There he was.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, gramps.”

“Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” You were almost taken aback at his tone, as you’d only heard him use it when he was actively trying to bed someone.

“San-” He just laughed and shook his head as if to assure you he was only teasing. Somehow that bothered you more. Desire had already begun to pool between your legs. You gave a little huff and released his wrist, which you’d been holding this whole time, abruptly sitting up as you swatted his hand away. You turned to look at him as the pillow you’d been resting on toppled from his lap, exposing the semi he was rocking. So he actually did want you. “Yeah, actually, it is.” He sat in stunned silence and you bit the inside of your lip to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, only speaking once you had successfully concealed your grin. “What? Did you think I’d get flustered and back off?” You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side, your tone almost mocking.

“Yeah, kin-”

“Cute.” You cut him off and placed a hand on his thigh as you leaned towards him, your gaze flicking towards his lips for a brief moment before lifting back to his eyes, which still refused to actually look at you. “Tell me, Sannie, how long did it take you to work up the courage to try and feel me up?”

“I wasn’t-”

“Oh come on.” You rolled your eyes, your hand trailing a bit higher on his thigh as your voice dipped a bit. “You’re already half hard, clearly you were trying to get something out of me.” He squirmed at both your words and your touch, suddenly trying to squeeze his thighs together as he avoided eye contact in favor of staring at your hand, which he felt was far too close to his crotch for him to properly think.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before you spoke up again. “It’s never crossed my mind before, but now that I’m thinking about it, there’s so many things I could do to you, Sannie.” You whispered as you moved your hand away from the swell in his gray sweats and moved to straddle his lap. “What do you think? Should I?” You rolled your hips, grinding against his hard on, and he nodded far too quickly for his liking.

“Please do…” He whispered back, finally meeting your eyes. “Anything you want. ‘M all yours.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just referring to the current moment but you weren’t in any state to be asking for clarification.

You weren’t sure if you were prepared for the ramifications of fucking your best friend but you would have to deal with that later. The ache between your legs required immediate attention. You carded your fingers through his hair before turning your hand into a fist and tugging his head back. Your other hand rested on his neck as you caught his lips in a demanding kiss. The whimper that slipped past his lips went straight to your pussy and you shivered, leaning into his touch when his hands moved to your ass.

He was short circuiting. He was finally getting the chance to touch you and you weren’t pushing him away. In fact, you were the one initiating it. He licked over your bottom lip but you refused him entry, taking the chance to nibble on his lip instead. He gasped against your lips and you smirked, subconsciously tightening your grip on his hair.

“I never pegged you as the submissive type, Sannie.” You teased and he frowned against your lips, clearly pouting. Despite being a switch, he was more dominant than submissive. He was just following your lead because he’d dreamt about this for ages and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice to you. I’ve been told I’m almost too gentle.”

He whined at your ribbing and you chuckled softly as you pulled back, moving to sit on the floor between his legs. His eyes followed your every movement. You sat on your knees and pushed his oversized tee up a bit to admire his toned stomach before hooking your fingers in the waistband of his sweats. You tugged them down, his now-fully-hard cock springing free and slapping against his belly. “No underwear? Must’ve been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

“No, actually. I just rarely wear them.” He rolled his eyes and you made a face. He seemed to be getting bolder and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You were having fun with him. If he decided to take over…well, you doubted that would happen but you might have a brat on your hands.

You didn’t respond, just finished pulling his pants to his ankles, took his dick in your hand, and licked the head. His head tipped back as he let out a surprisingly deep groan and your previous visions came rushing back to you. He looked and sounded just as pretty as you imagined when you took him in your mouth.

“Holy fucking shit, y/n…” He groaned, one hand moving to rest on his belly, holding his shirt up while the other curled into a fist on the sofa. You hummed at his reaction and continued, taking him as far as you could manage. You gagged a little around him and he hissed, his hips jerking a fraction of an inch before he could stop himself. “S-sorry. ‘M sorry, y/n. Didn’t mean to.”

You giggled softly at his apology and he bit his lip, looking down at you. You bobbed your head as your gaze met his and he damn near lost his mind. You looked so pretty with his cock in your mouth. He wanted the image burned in his memory for the rest of his life. Who knew when or if he’d get the chance to do this again?

Given how you responded to his accidentally fucking your face, he decided to experimentally roll his hips. He almost met God when the tip slipped down your throat and you gagged around him, swallowing harshly as you tried but failed to relax your throat. You’d never deepthroated before and it showed as you tried to recover, tears filling your eyes and quickly overflowing to your cheeks. He gently pulled you off and wiped your cheeks, cooing at you as you coughed. “Breathe for me, sugar.” You nodded and took a deep breath, letting him dry your face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what possessed me to do that. Are you okay?”

You nodded again and offered a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna go full send and hurt you or-”

“I’m fine, Sannie. I promise.” He finally nodded after a few beats of silence and you tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him for a moment. “Now, what’s with the name? You said it earlier too.”

He looked panicked at first before a grin crept onto his face. “Well, I would call you honey since you’re so sweet, but I feel like that’s a bit overdone, don’t you agree?” You shrugged in agreement and he leaned down, taking your jaw in his hand and jerking you closer. He was a breath away and you were going haywire. “I wonder if your personality is all that’s sweet.”

“What are you saying?” You asked quietly, surprising both of you at just how quickly you’d folded with a single rough touch. So much for him not taking over.

“I wanna taste you, y/n.” He moved to whisper in your ear and your breath hitched. “Every. Single. Inch.” He punctuated his words by kissing and licking up the side of your neck, then biting down softly on your earlobe and drawing out a tiny whimper.

You squeezed your thighs together and closed your eyes for a moment. You grounded yourself with a deep breath before opting to respond by simply tugging at his cock, teasing the head with your thumb. The groan he let out scratched an itch in your brain you never knew existed and his grip on your jaw grew tighter as he inhaled your scent.

“Get up.” You blindly followed his command, standing when he backed away. He didn’t speak as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and stood with you, hauling you over his shoulder before starting for your room. You squeaked in surprise but didn’t fight, a smile creeping across your face.

You couldn’t stifle the giggle that slipped out when he kissed your side. It shouldn’t have tickled as much as it did.

San had an idea of the things you liked, you’d both talked about your escapades enough, so it came as no surprise to you when he gently placed you on your feet only to grab you by the throat and push you back onto the bed. Still, a thrill ran through your body as you wrapped your hands around his wrist. You sucked in a gasp just before he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, your eyes rolling back.

You felt his breath on your face as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Your hands left his arm and moved to his shirt, pulling him as close as possible. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he slowly relieved the pressure on your throat, allowing blood flow to return to normal and give you a head rush. You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close when he started to pull away.

“I’ve always wanted to do that…” His voice was a low rumble that made your panties uncomfortably wet. “Always wanted to try everything you mentioned being into. The choking, the biting, the breeding…everything.”

If you weren’t aware of your panties sticking to your folds before, you were after that. “Please do.” You exhaled, trying to pull him back in even as he righted himself between your legs. “All of it. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He raised an eyebrow as his hands moved to rest on your hips and you nodded. “Anything?”

“Anything.” You nodded again and bit down on your bottom lip when he rocked his hips, the blunt head of his cock smearing precum across your yoga pants as he rubbed against you. “Please…”

He didn’t speak as his hands slid up your sides, fingers inching under the hem of your hoodie and ghosting over your cool skin. He reached higher still until his hands cupped your breasts. “No bra? Must've been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh as the conversation from only a few minutes prior repeated itself. “No, actually. I just rarely wear one.”

“Take it off.” He groaned in response, pushing your hoodie up so your chest was entirely exposed. You sat up, which took a bit of effort given your legs were draped over his thick thighs, and pulled the surprisingly-thin material over your head. He immediately knocked you back and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, propping on one arm while his free hand wandered along your belly.

Your arms wrapped around him, one hand moving to his back while the other tangled in his faded pink locks. He’d dyed his hair magenta a few weeks back and it had since lost its vibrancy - though not before staining a few towels and his pillowcase. You gave his hair a gentle tug and he groaned into your mouth, sending a wave of electricity down your spine.

He began to trail kisses along your jaw and neck as his hand cupped your breast, his thumb swiping back and forth over your nipple. You pushed your chest into his touch, head tipping back as your back arched. Your breath hitched when he brought his kisses to your chest, lips encasing your nipple as his tongue flicked back and forth. “Sannie-” You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. His hand gave your other breast equal attention, lightly pinching and rolling your nipple before swapping sides.

You couldn’t say you’d ever been curious about what it would be like to sleep with San but you were certain his skills would exceed his reputation if he already had you drenched with minimal effort. You wondered if he could feel the wet patch between your legs, starting to soak through your yoga pants.

He could. He found himself eager to bury his head between your legs despite being determined to take his time with you. He worried he’d disappoint you if he moved too quickly but he still began his descent, peppering sloppy kisses down your belly as his fingers hooked in your waistband. He took your pants and panties both in one go as he moved off the bed. You didn’t miss his sharp inhale.

“Y/N…” Your face flushed red as he knelt between your legs, gaze locked on your glistening cunt. You wanted to tell him not to stare, to urge him along, but you couldn’t seem to break your silence. Finally, you lifted your head and he met your eyes, his own eyes widening in something akin to adoration, though more intense. “Is this all for me, sugar?” There was that name again. You nodded eagerly but he shook his head. “Words.”

You frowned a bit, annoyed that he was making you speak up when he could just take one look at you and know. Of course, you knew he wouldn’t give in so you gave a soft whine before speaking. “Yes, Sannie, it’s all yours.”

You didn’t know why you were so against speaking up. The sound he made the second you did respond made you clench around nothing. He noticed, of course, and let out a low groan as he hooked your legs over his shoulders and kissed your thigh. “May I touch?”

“Please do.” You whispered and caught your lip between your teeth.

He continued to litter your thighs with messy kisses and soft bites as his fingertips teased their way up to your pussy, never once breaking eye contact. Your head fell back to the sheets as soon as you felt him run a finger through your folds, gathering up some of your arousal. He moved torturously slowly, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit before easing one digit into you.

“You’re drenched, baby…” His voice, though painfully sexy, was full of wonder and amusement.

“Your fault…” You mumbled and he chuckled softly.

One finger wasn’t enough. You needed more. He could tell and you felt him smirk against your skin as he curled his finger. You let out a soft sigh at the action but he wasn’t satisfied and so he added another finger, and another when you still didn’t give him the response he wanted.

“Fuck this cunt’s gonna feel so good-” He sighed.

Now three fingers deep, he began his search for your g-spot. It didn’t take him very long if your embarrassingly loud moan was anything to go by. “So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned, suppressing another sound when you clenched around his fingers. “You like it when I call you pretty? Or was it ‘baby’?” He teased.

“Both.” It was all you could muster as he leaned in and flicked his tongue over your clit. You immediately brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your sounds but he pulled back and nipped at your thigh.

“Let me hear.” At that point, you had no fight left in you. You just wanted him to touch you and you’d do anything to get your way. You gave a nod, a small ‘okay’ slipping from your lips, and he slowly leaned back in, lips closing around your clit. He sucked and you let out a soft curse, bringing your hands to your chest to knead at the soft flesh of your breasts. He groaned in appreciation and set a slow pace, working you up with his fingers while his tongue traced different shapes over your clit.

You suddenly felt ridiculous for never having wondered if he truly lived up to his reputation. He was proving to you just how good he was and you were cursing yourself for never having thought about having his head between your legs. “Sannie- oh-” You keened, one hand flying to tangle in his hair once more as he pressed against your g-spot at the same time as he sucked on your clit. You wouldn’t last long like this. He was too good.

Your toes curled as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his tongue dipping into you occasionally in place of his fingers. Your muscles ached with the tension that was building but you knew you wouldn’t be relaxed until he made you cum. Hoping to encourage him to get you off faster so he’d fuck you, you began babbling praises, only inflating his ego.

He made sure you felt his appreciative groan before pulling back for a quick breath then diving back in, tongue flicking with vigor. His cock throbbed as he inhaled your scent and his eyes rolled back briefly. He wanted more of you. All of you. So when you announced you were close, he backed away entirely and smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

“Sannie, what the fuck?” You whined indignantly, lifting your head when he sat up between your legs.

“Decided I want you to cum on my cock instead.” He shrugged, moving up the bed to catch your lips in a kiss. You were surprised by how sweet the kiss was considering how feral he’d just been acting over your pussy but you welcomed it, tugging him closer with a soft groan as you tasted yourself.

“So fuck me then.” You whispered between kisses, lapping your juices off his lips a moment later. The whole scenario was filthy and intoxicating.

“You mean like this?” He grunted as he slid into you with ease. Your jaw dropped and you gasped at the stretch. He fit perfectly, like you were made for each other - a thought that both terrified and intrigued you. He wasted no time in setting a slow, deep pace, each thrust driving you up the bed with the force.

“Just like that, Sannie.” You nodded furiously, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while your other hand twisted the sheets by your head.

San was on another planet. He finally had you. You, the girl of his dreams ever since he was fifteen. He was finally fully sheathed inside your warmth and he never wanted to leave. He’d give anything to stay with you.

He hadn’t intended to babble that out loud and realized his error when you responded.

“Yeah? Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Then fuck me harder and treat me like the most precious thing you’ve ever held.”

It was an easy ask. He had no problem cherishing you. Even as his hips began to snap harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, he showered you with kisses and words of adoration. “So fucking good, baby. Do you have any clue how long I’ve wanted to feel this perfect little pussy? To make you fall apart on my cock?”

“Tell me, Sannie. Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”

“God- ever since we were in school. It was so hot the way you fucked her up for hurting me and I’ve wanted you ever since.” His admission sent a thrill rushing through you and you clenched involuntarily, earning a low groan from him.

“And you held it together for that long? Fuck, Sannie, you- oh-” The tip of his cock just barely kissed your cervix but it was enough to make your thighs squeeze his hips.

“Shit, baby, you keep that up and I’ll cum…”

“Then keep fucking me just like that.” You demanded, back arching as he dipped his head down to lick and suck on your chest. He caught your nipple in his mouth and allowed his teeth to graze the stiff peak, grunting against your skin when your walls fluttered in response. “Want you to cum inside as many times as you can until you make me cum.” It wasn’t a demand or a plea, it was just a simple fact but he was eager to comply with your wishes.

“Christ, y/n, you’re killing me…” San groaned, resting his forehead on your chest as his hips pistoned relentlessly. He pulled back just enough to look up at you and you could tell by his expression just how close he was. “You really want that? Want me to breed you like a good little cocksleeve and keep filling you up over and over until you fall apart for me?”

Your nod and whimper were the only convincing he needed. He let go instantly, stars dancing behind his eyes as he pumped you full of cum. This was all he’d wanted for the better part of a decade and he was on cloud nine over finally getting you.

He briefly pulled out and flipped you over, taking a moment to watch a bead of cum drip down your folds before he slammed back into you. He might regret this later given how sensitive he was but he needed to give you anything you asked for.

Your back arched as he hit your sweet spot and you let out a soft cry. “There! Just like that!”

It didn’t take long before he felt another orgasm building. He warned you and you demanded he continue, begging him to give it to you. His cock twitched and he let go at your behest, filling you all over again.

Before he was finished, he reached around to roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger. He delighted in the squeal you let out and did it again, tears welling in his eyes from all the sensation.

“Oh god, Sannie, I’m so close!” You cried, your thighs trembling as your orgasm threatened to wash over you.

“Cum for me, sugar.” His voice was a low rumble in your ear, hoarse with unshed tears, and you couldn’t hold back. You let out another squeal as he toyed with your clit, tipping you over the edge. Your high hit you like a bus and you let out a sob of ecstasy as your pussy clamped down on San’s leaking cock.

You felt a tear fall on your back and gently pushed him back, forcing yourself to roll over. “You okay?” You asked softly as you pulled him to you, still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“‘M fucking perfect.” He offered a lazy smile as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Mm then what’s this?” You teased as you pulled back, wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Proof that I’ve met my match.” He chuckled softly and wiped his face dry. “Seriously, that was…fucking amazing.”

“It was. Can someone explain to me why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Who knows.” He shrugged and flopped down beside you, then pulled you to lay on top of him. “But I say we do this every weekend, sugar.” He laughed deeply when you swatted his chest in response but deep down you knew this was more than a one time occurrence.

[unkingly]

Canis: The Speaker (Manga) - English Scanlation

Summary: 'The Speaker' is a BL manga that follows three boys who were all raised in an American orphanage together. Sam is the book smart and inquisitive one. Hal is brave and confident. Nobu is shy and quiet, but he has a good memory and he's more capable than he thinks he is.

The boys realize that something sinister is going on at their orphanage, and they decide to investigate. As a result, they get forcibly separated.

Themes include: explicit (18+) material, polygamy, mafia madness, human and child trafficking, sex work, sex assault, child sexual abuse, and substance abuse

Read Chapters 1 - 10 here!

Read Chapter 11 here!

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 30th:  Costumes | Children of the Grave - Black Sabbath | Loyal [1.9k, rated T] read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

“No, no, no, no—” Gareth protests, ducking the Donkey costume mask that Eddie tosses his way backstage. “Not again! Dude, that thing smells like having a condom over your face and it’s impossible to drum in. I’m not doing it this year. No way. Someone else is taking one for the team this time.” 

Eddie cackles, trying not to cry with laughter and smudge his green face paint. “Decide amongst yourselves then, but someone is wearing it. We’ve gotta commit.” 

Jeff snorts and shakes his head. “No chance, why can’t someone be like, Fiona or something?” 

“We need Donkey! He’s crucial to the story!” Eddie rolls his eyes and walks over to grab the mask. “Okay, circle up. We’re gonna Rock, Paper, Scissors this. On my count.” 

The rest of the band huddles around and Eddie counts to three. Gareth throws rock and celebrates as Frank and Jeff both throw scissors. 

“Redemption!” He celebrates as Eddie counts Frank and Jeff in for three. 

In the end, Frank gets stuck with the Donkey costume, Jeff reprises his Pinocchio costume, and Gareth steals Farquaad out from under Frank in the Rock, Paper, Scissors coup. No one is particularly happy, but Eddie doesn’t care. 

He doesn’t care because Shrek Night is his favorite show of the year. Since its inception a few years earlier, entirely by accident when Eddie was forced to perform as Shrek as a dare, it’s become something of a cult classic among Corroded Coffin fans. The last show they play before Halloween is a costume night, and the fans have taken to the theme like, well, like an ogre to mud. 

There’s something incredibly special about screaming the lyrics to their latest hit while a sea of Shreks and Gingys and Fionas scream along with him. 

And tonight is no different. 

—

“Shreddie! Shreddie! Shreddie!” 

The crowd roars to life as the group takes the stage, waddling in costumes and maybe a little itchy from body paint and latex masks. 

“Give it up for Donkey on the bass!” Eddie shouts, pointing to Frank. He gives his best, saddest wave. 

“Give it up for Pinocchio on the guitar!” He yells again as Jeff hammers a riff in response and grins in his fedora and suspenders. 

“And last but certainly not least, give it up for Lord Farquaad on the drums!” Gareth drums a little rimshot as the hat pokes out over the top of his high hat. How he plans on drumming the whole night crouched on his knees is beyond Eddie, but ultimately not up to him. 

The crowd goes insane, as usual, and Eddie takes a second to soak it all in, to glance over the various costumes before everyone melds into one collective unit of chaos. Fairy Godmothers, and Donkeys, and Fionas as far as the eye can see. He even spots a Puss in Boots in the front of the pit, standing next to a very attractive Gingy. 

He doesn’t have time to assess the life choices that lead him to have that particular thought though, because Gareth starts counting them in. 

—

Their originals are hits, of course, as are the covers. After all, it wouldn’t be a true Shrek Night without at least a couple of songs from the famed movies. 

“And then I saw her face!” He shrieks, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd. “Now I’m a believer!” 

He runs around the stage, careful not to lose the microphone (again) as Jeff, Gareth, and Frank pound away at the melody. As the song comes to a close, Eddie slides on his knees, hardly protected by the cheap beige pants from Walmart, to the edge of the stage. 

“Not a trace! Of doubt in my mind! I’m a believer!” He sings, drawing out the final note. 

Chants and applause follow him up and he falls to his back, guitar over his chest, pounding his feet and fists on the stage as he catches his breath. Green paint melts from his forehead and when he brushes his hair back, he pulls his fingers away to see shades of ogre paint that’s surely made its way into his hairline. 

Before he can stand, Gareth shouts into his microphone, presumably to give Eddie another second or two. It’s no secret that I’m A Believer is high octane. 

“Do you know…” Gareth pauses for effect before shouting. “The muffin man?” 

Before the crowd yells out together, jumbled and out of sync, a faux high-pitched voice rings out surprisingly close to Eddie’s feet. 

“The muffin man!” 

He sits up and spots him: the hot Gingy he’d noticed earlier, laughing with a scrunched up nose, leaning on his friend’s shoulder. 

Oh, fuck me, Eddie thinks. He’s adorable. 

It’s usually the other way around: Eddie being ogled by a fan in the front row, staring up at him like he’s something to eat, like he’s prey. Ignoring them is easy enough, typically appeased with just a smile or a wink to carry with them forever, but this guy? The one with the fuzzy brown onesie with purple button and white, pretend icing lining the legs and waist? Well, Eddie’s never actually wanted a fan in the front row to look at him until now. 

So he scoots to the end of the stage, legs dangling over the edge, and steals Gareth’s line. Grinning down at the guy pressed to the railing, he screeches. “The muffin man!”

Gingy’s friend, known only to him at this point as Puss in Boots, elbows him hard in the ribs and he looks up to see Eddie staring right at him, crooked grin, and in hindsight, probably a bit more unhinged than planned. 

His friend looks back and forth between them, disbelief in the shape of her mouth and furrowed forehead, but it seems to work because Gingy returns the smile and has the audacity to wink at him. 

Eddie raises his green brows towards his hairline and nods appreciatively. The barricade isn’t far from the edge of the stage, close enough for Eddie to leave the microphone to the side and ask Gingy and his friend to hang back after the show. 

—

After one crowdsurfing escapade from Jeff, one quip into the microphone from Gareth about how he now understands why Farquaad is always so cranky, and few more of the originals peppered with All Star and Bad Reputation covers, Corroded Coffin takes an awkward but well-deserved bow. The crowd cheers for more, even after their encore, but eventually filter out through the venue’s exit doors, flooding the parking lots and nearby streets with Shrek characters. 

Eddie’s sure the local bars are having a blast. 

The only fans left are Gingy and Puss in Boots, who Eddie desperately needs the real names of before his thoughts turn into a troubling Shrek fanfiction. With a quick word to their manager, Chrissy, he makes sure they won’t leave before he comes back with a plan— a very weird, very niche plan that he hopes works on the presumably dorky, albeit confident, man in the fuzzy onesie. 

Her wings bump him in the shoulder and remind him that she truly is his Fairy Godmother. 

“Eddie,” Jeff deadpans as he plops his prop fedora on the backstage table and unfastens the buttons of his suspenders. “Are you really about to go hit on a fan? Dressed as Shrek? With an onion?”

“Do you have a better idea?” He whirls on him, a lone onion from a backstage fridge somewhere in one hand and a sponge trying to at least clean up his face paint in the other. He’s sure he looks insane. And he may as well be at this point. 

“Uh, don’t? That’s the better idea?” Frank offers in the corner, his face red and sweaty from the suffocating Donkey mask. 

“Not an option, so Operation Onion is on. I’ll be back. Or not. Hopefully not, actually.” Eddie shakes his head and sets down the makeup sponge, places the onion in his prop burlap bag. “Wish me luck!” 

Gareth sighs with ice packs on his knees. “Nope.” 

—

Eddie approaches the open backstage area, the spare lounge where Chrissy’s talking with Gingy and Puss in Boots. Maybe talking a little more intently to Puss in Boots, but he can’t begrudge her. After all, Eddie’s doing the same thing, isn’t he? 

He catches a bit of the conversation before opening the door, overhearing Chrissy refer to them as Steve and Robin. 

Thank God, he thinks to himself. Better than the placeholders. 

By no means does Eddie consider himself a rockstar— not yet, anyways. He enjoys the mid-level shows he gets to do with his friends, especially on nights like this, but he’s yet to harness that rockstar swagger. At his core, he’s still the marginally insecure, frantic kid from Bumfuck Nowhere, Indiana who paints D&D miniatures and speaks Elvish. And dresses up as Shrek, apparently. 

All of that to say, his heart pounds in his chest and his tongue feels twisted around itself when he knocks on the door. 

“Oh, hey, Eddie! Come on in! Great show tonight!” Chrissy smiles, wide and bright, as she introduces Steve and Robin. “This is Steve, and this is Robin. Steve, Robin, you all know Eddie. Or, should I say, Shreddie?” 

All three groan and shake their heads in good nature. 

“To be fair, man, you are still in the get-up. I thought you were going backstage to change or something.” Steve teases, eyes full of mirth and challenge. 

Exactly Eddie’s type. 

“And leave the three of you dressed up and feel out of place? Not a fucking chance.” Eddie takes a breath and goes for it, channeling his years of drama and general theatrics. 

He goes to take his seat on the sofa and pretends to trip, his burlap bag tipping over in time for his onion to fall to the floor at Steve’s feet. 

“Shit, sorry, that’s my onion,” Eddie shrugs. “Happens sometimes. Ogre and all, y’know? By the way, you’re gorgeous.” 

“Oh my God,” Chrissy mutters under her breath and ducks her head, leaning an elbow on Robin’s shoulder and covering her eyes. 

Steve’s mouth falls open into a little O and sits quietly for a few beats, nothing but the girls chuckling off to the side and an onion between them. Eddie’s about to swallow his tongue and see himself out when Steve leans forward and picks it up, tossing it up in the air above his head and catching it like a baseball. 

“Looks like you dropped this. And uh, thanks. I could say the same to you.” 

Robin wheezes and doubles over. “Jesus Christ, Steve. I know I’m a lesbian and all but this? This is what works on you?” 

Eddie likes her already, and a quick glance to Chrissy tells him Chrissy does, too. 

“Is this Ogre discrimination? Do I have to explain that we have—”

“Layers!” Steve finishes for him, nudging her in the ribs. “Ogres have layers, Rob. Don’t be so close-minded, God. Besides, he’s half melted and just ransacked backstage for an onion. Don’t judge our mating rituals.” 

Mating rituals? Eddie grins with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. “Yeah, what he said.” 

Robin just shakes her head and gestures with one hand at the air between the two men, speechless. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go see if this sweaty, half-melted, babbling Onion Man wants to make out or something.” Steve slaps his hands on his thighs, still covered in fuzzy material, and stands. “What do you say?” 

When he shows up backstage to introduce Steve to the rest of Corroded Coffin, both of their faces are now smeared with green paint and Steve sports painted handprints in some telling places. 

Eddie gives them a bright smile and jazz hands, his friends’ expressions are as impressed as they are confused.

Shrek Night really is his favorite show of the year. 

tagging people who expressed interest <3: @cuips-not-cute @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @useless-nb-bisexual @kkpwnall@cuoredimuschio @doublecherrypiediscosuperfly@ohmagicalunicornlord @hellion-child @bxnsheeslxdia @pomegranatebb @vampeddie @horsegirleddiemunson @stobinesque @sidekick-hero @medusapelagia @slipperygiraff @epiclazershark @bayouteche thank you to @nostalgicbones for beta-reading and inspiring this!

[lily-alphonse]

"Lonely Dancers" an Older!Sambastian fic

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Content: M/M

Rating: Explicit (graphic sexual content)

Words: 4,764

“Dance with me.” “I’m meeting someone actually.” Sebastian feigns disinterest, turning away and stirring his cocktail with pale, slender fingers. He can feel Sam’s eyes burning into him, and it feels so good he can’t help his lips from curling into a smirk. Sam isn’t deterred, leaning in closer. His chest presses into Sebastian’s shoulder and he tries to suppress a shudder at the contact. “I don’t doubt it, guy like you, looking like that,” he rasps right against his ear.

Happy birthday to our lord and savior @crispyanonart . For her contributions to Sambastian nation, this is the least I could do.

>>Read on AO3<<

[slightlycrunchy]

𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣

🩸 GanLink 🩸 Explicit 🩸 84k 🩸

Chapter 18 snippet:

Ganon moans into his ear.

“You are my gilded thing, my laurel to hang upon my wall to show these people how helpless Hyrule is against me. You will not be going anywhere, swordsman.”

ao3

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

New Christian/Satine Moulin Rouge! fic alert!

i wanna breathe your air, press your chest against mine (think i know now what life should have been like)

A chance meeting and an even more unlikely (and anonymous) reunion give Satine an opportunity to escape the cycle of violence she’s stuck in and achieve the one thing she’s always wanted but never thought she could have: safety. She isn’t certain she’s brave enough to take that leap but if she does, Satine thinks she might actually trust Christian to catch her before she hits the ground.

Read it now on AO3!

[shiningsuki]

The First Promise

.｡���:*･ﾟﾟ･ Book 1 of the STARRY WITNESS Miniseries

full series on AO3. xavier x mc. your first life together.

SYNOPSIS: You meet a boy like light itself who brightens your darkest days. He makes your last days outshine the rest of your short life by light years.

Chapter 1 Preview *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Mornings in Philos, especially in the early spring season, are never really quiet. There is a buzz in the air—if one listens close enough, one feels the vibrations, life tingling all around. Evol, the energy that makes the universe and the source of your power, hangs everything in the balance. You feel it humming beneath your skin as you walk to school, waving your arm in the air. Your fingers wiggle slightly with the movement. With an absentminded awareness, you sense your Evol connecting with the air around you; your body and nature are always in harmony.

This all passes as fleeting thoughts. As soon as you pour your energy into the connection, you feel it draining just as fast. You drop your arm and make a sweeping glance around the market you pass through to get to school. The Academy’s campus lies in the heart of town, and your dorm is just under a ten-minute walk from school.

It’s a rare sunny day. Philos’ frequent storms and cloudy days finally break into a cool, spring morning. The streets begin to wake up. Older men and women set up their stalls. More cars start to pass you on the sidewalk. The humming you sense begins to amplify, ever so slowly, an exponential rise that you’ve come to recognize as second nature. As the world wakes up, so does its resonance, the one that connects your Evol to everything.

You adjust your backpack on your shoulders. Then you tuck your hands underneath your armpits, your hoodie’s thick material providing a little more warmth from the chill. It’s still cold this early in the year, but you try to make up for it by layering your uniform accordingly.

You calculate that you’re about five minutes from school when an entourage of large black cars zoom past you. Since the sidewalk is so close to the main street, the sheer speed makes gusts of wind blow toward your body. It makes your hair fly around and you instinctively hug yourself tighter. The added draft doesn’t help with the morning temperature.

Curious, you eye the line of cars and wonder who’s important enough to ride in them. They turn towards the school’s direction. You eventually follow into the same street, and the Academy’s gates greet you several feet ahead.

History teaches all of Philos’ citizens that the Academy is a stepping stone for the best and brightest students to utilize Evol in its various ways. They could study it in research labs. They could become Lightseekers and protect humanity from Wanderers and other universal threats. They could even become explorers, traversing the Deepspace tunnel into the vast corners of the universe. Discover whether or not you all are the last living organisms in this plane of existence.

None of it appeals to you. Granted, you can’t see so far ahead in the future. This is your first year at the Academy, yet even after the break, your prospects seem dim at best. Everyone tells you that you have time to figure it out. But time has never been your ally.

You subconsciously rub your chest as you approach the gates. They’re wide open for an hour before the start of the school day. In the circle drive, you see the black cars from earlier all piled up one after the other, parked in front of the main building. Outside each car, a large man stands guard, sunglasses covering their eyes and an earpiece tucked behind their ears. They scan their surroundings. You make eye contact with them, though you can’t really tell. They don’t spare you another glance.

As you approach closer, one of the car doors opens. A flash of silver hair glints in the rising sunlight then disappears just as quickly behind a pair of guards. They flank this person on all sides as they enter the school.

Strange, you think. Someone important is visiting? It’s after break, but you don’t remember hearing news of a welcome-back assembly or important announcement anytime soon. Then again, you don’t pay too much attention to what happens outside your classes. You follow a group of students entering the doors. You catch a bit of their conversation. They too wonder what the mysterious entourage’s presence means at the school.

Read the full chapter here ✧·ﾟ: *✧·:*

© shiningsuki on Tumblr and suki_dreams on AO3. all rights and permissions belong to the author. reposting without permission is prohibited. all depictions of love and deepspace are inspired and unaffiliated with official storylines and characters.

[ohwolfling]

i'm licking wounds, i'll lay you down

i'm licking wounds, i'll lay you down on AO3.

Gale retires to his tent early, hardly touching the dinner he prepared, no pleasantries exchanged, no goodnights doled out. Tav can't resist the urge to check in on him. Gale's not in the mood for talking and the only thing he's hungry for is her.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

i entered a fugue hyperfixation state unlike anything i have ever experienced for this. the god of smut whispered in my ear as my eyes glazed over, as my fingers tippy-typed upon the keys, it was the spirit that truly wrote this.

in my campaign platform of Gale Deserves A Bl-w J-b, some have rightfully pointed out that I neglected to emphasize that he eats it like he's trying to marry it. This is my State of the Union address to remedy this failure. I hope you will all stand with me, even though I could not resist making this h-rny in several other directions instead of sticking strictly with Munch Activities ™.

[sketchingstars03]

honestly I think the fact that Ink and Error have been unintentionally written to parallel each other is super interesting

For instance

Ink, while being the embodiment of creativity, can be a bit destructive (causing chaos with his shenanigans and making messes of paint)

And Error, while being the embodiment of destruction, can be a bit creative (knowing how to knit and making dolls of various AU characters)

Both were created completely separately, without their creators considering the other at ALL when making them. And yet they work so well as near polar opposites. (emphasis on NEAR. They still have lots in common)

**This post is NOT about 3rror!nk**

[qserasera]

Rating: T

Warnings: none really, spoilers for events of Volume 4 Words: ~5.8k

Fandom: The Case Files of Jeweler Richard Pairing: Richard Ranasinghe de Vulpian/Nakata Seigi Summary:

"Am I to be your Bluebeard, Seigi? Your Sir Reynard, some sly Lady Mikuzume, leading a knight-errant to his ruin?"

"I wanted to stay." I held my head up at that, willed my voice to hold its unerring, unwavering course.

{{READ ON AO3 HERE}}

[lily-alphonse]

"A Suit" (Max x Bradley)

Fandom: Disney

Content: M/M

Rating: Mature (Grief and mild sexual content)

Words: 1,343

At his mother’s funeral, Bradley’s father said he needed to man up. He learned far too young that being a man often meant wearing a mask. Sometimes the mask was a suit.

>> Read on AO3 <<

I'm finally back writing Maxley thanks to a prompt from my writing discord! Angst is the best for shorter fics BUT it has a very cute ending dw

[nadiajustbe]

Everytime a person reablogs my hmc book post as "#studioghibli" an angel loses his wings

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

New Christian/Satine Moulin Rouge! fic chapter alert! Chapter 3 now posted!

i wanna breathe your air, press your chest against mine (think i know now what life should have been like)

A chance meeting and an even more unlikely (and anonymous) reunion give Satine an opportunity to escape the cycle of violence she’s stuck in and achieve the one thing she’s always wanted but never thought she could have: safety. She isn’t certain she’s brave enough to take that leap but if she does, Satine thinks she might actually trust Christian to catch her before she hits the ground.

Chapter 3 has been posted! Read it now on AO3!

[skyplayssplatoon3]

"You must be so exhausted, Mr. Cypher...Why not just forget it all? Become a part of something far greater than yourself..."

Seems like Jack is in a bit of trouble this Splatoween... But what does Miss Serene have to do with it all?

[thefactsofthematter]

and that’s the thing about illicit affairs…

javid / 686 words / just a drabble i wrote for fun last night!

-

“You’re married.”

Davey states it.

He doesn’t ask it, it’s not a question— no, he says it like he’s sure of it, like he figured it out somehow, like he saw through every perfectly crafted falsehood Jack has presented to him.

He looks utterly devastated.

Jack’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to figure out what to say. All that eventually comes out is:

“Dave.”

It’s immediate, the way Davey shakes his head, biting down on his lip like he’s holding back tears.

“No. Don’t Dave me.” He snaps. “You fucking lied to me… you’re married. You have a wife, don’t you? You—" He pauses, cutting himself off, and then continues. “God, Jack, do you have kids?”

Jack shakes his head.

“No! I don’t, I— listen, I have a girl, okay? But that’s not—"

“Jesus. That’s all she is to you, huh? Something to have? You don’t even need to respect her, or—"

“I do respect her!”

“You’re having a goddamn affair!”

“This has nothing to do with her!”

“It has everything to do with her!” Davey throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “You’re fucking married to her, you idiot! She trusted you, and you made a fucking commitment to each other, and now you’re naked in my goddamn bed every weekend. Are you insane or just stupid!?”

Jack drops his head in his hands for a moment. It wasn’t supposed to fall apart like this, not here and not now.

“Fuck,” he groans. “How’d you even find out, man?”

Davey rolls his eyes.

“You’re wearing a ring.”

Jack looks at his left hand in surprise— sure enough, his wedding band is still in place. He forgot to take it off. There’s no talking around it: the plain gold ring very obviously has one possible purpose.

“I thought you were just closeted,” Davey adds, when Jack has been quiet for too long, “but this explains it a lot better— not wanting to stay the night, never inviting me over, only hanging out on your schedule. I can’t believe I was too stupid to realize it.”

“Davey, I…” Jack starts, fumbling for an excuse and coming up empty. He sighs. “Damn it. I’m so sorry. It was never supposed to end up like this, y’know?”

Davey laughs, but there’s no humour in it.

“No. I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck you expected to happen,” he snaps, “but look what you did. You ruined things with me and with her— because I’m gonna tell her, I’m gonna find out who she is and I’m gonna tell her how much of a scumbag you are— and you’ll be alone, Jack. You did it to yourself. Good fucking job.”

“It’s not—" Jack cuts himself off and restarts, fearing the inevitable word vomit that’s about to pour out. “Look, things aren’t good with her right now. Like, between us. It’s bad, and it’s been bad for a while, and I don’t want her anymore. I want you. I’ll leave her, I swear— we’re hanging on by a thread these days anyways. We’re practically separated. I’ll bite the bullet and get the divorce, because I know we need to do it, and then you and I can be together for real, okay?”

“You think I believe that?” Davey scoffs. “Come on. You’ve lied to me for this long— you think I can’t see that you’ll just leave me when you get bored of me? Maybe you’ll find some other gullible asshole to string along instead, and you can do this all over again. Is this fun for you?”

“No! No, it’s not fun.” There are tears in Jack’s eyes now. “It sucks, Dave. I didn’t mean to do this.”

Davey shrugs, aggressively nonchalant.

“Well, you did it, so you can go fuck yourself. Get out of my apartment and never talk to me again, okay?”

“Davey…”

“No.” Davey points to the door. “Leave. We’re done. Congratulations on ruining something really good.”

There’s nothing more Jack can say without digging himself a deeper grave here.

He leaves, and he doesn’t let himself cry until the door is closed behind him.

[iveemo]

OC Work: My Spirited Blade/私の気の刀

Our story begins here, in Kyoto, 1870, during the early years of the Meiji era. Buried high above the countless streets and districts of the city, up in the hills, one will come across a large mansion. This mansion is the current residence of the Kaneko family. The pathways leading up to the mansion are lush with nature. Cherry blossoms more beautiful than any others pave a way to the keep of the family. Indeed, one would think of them as little more than stuck-up, wealthy know-it-alls.

This however, could not be further from the truth.

The date is April 7th, 1870. Today marks a momentous day for each generation of the Kaneko family. For it is here that the fates of their offspring shall be decided.

Ah, but we have yet to meet the protagonist of this story, haven’t we?

From within the mansion, a sliding door draws open, as a girl, no older than 18 steps out of her personal quarters. Her pitch-black hair is neatly tied into a bun, her bangs reaching no further than her shoulders. This girl is Kaneko Kyoko. Kyoko is the second-born child of the family, after her older brother. She is quiet, reserved, well-mannered. Not particularly outstanding. As Kyoko leaves her room, she rubs her eyes sleepily, with breakfast being the only thing on her mind.

“Well, look who finally crawled outta her shell!”

Kyoko looks up, and is met with the face of a man with ruffled hair, the same colour as her own. He grins confidently as he stares down the girl before him. He wears a grey and white kimono, with his hands placed on his hips. This man is Kaneko Koji, Kyoko’s older brother..

“Good morning, nii-san.” Kyoko politely greets

“Yes, it is a good morning, Kyoko! I’m surprised you remembered!”

“Remembered? Remembered what?”

Koji smiled condescendingly, as though he were mocking his sister. “Spare me the act. You know what today is.”’

Then Kyoko remembered. She did know what today was.

“That’s right!” Koji proclaimed. “Today’s the day your big brother starts his legend!”

Kyoko sighed internally. This was the day that Koji had been talking about for weeks to seemingly no end. Within the Kaneko family, there existed a history. Members of Kyoko’s family had dedicated themselves to protecting the family from the shadows for generations past. And now that both of the Kaneko siblings were of age, the time upon which the next protector of Japan would be chosen had arrived. Koji, of course, was certain it would be him. As were their mother and father.

“Anyway, don’t you worry, I’ll be sure to tell ya’ all about my travels whenever I visit!”

“I’ll look forward to that.” Kyoko smiled. “...For whenever I’m bored out of my mind.”

“What did you just say?!” Koji’s face almost turned red as his sister retreated into the hallway.

“I’ll see you in the chamber.” Kyoko ignored his childish attitude.

Speaking in total honesty, Kyoko did not think highly of her brother. Or her mother. Being honest, the only person in her family she had true respect for was her father. She would try to stay polite around them for the sake of keeping out of trouble, but occasionally, such as just now, she’d let it slip, and her true self would show. Minutes passed, both siblings had reported to the main chamber in the Kaneko manor, where their futures were about to be decided. Before them stood their mother and father, Kaneko Yumiko, and Kaneko Genji.

“Good morning, Koji. Kyoko.” Their father, a kindly old man in his 50s, with grey hair, eyes adorned with glasses greeted them. 

“Good morning, father.” Kyoko returned the greeting, this time genuinely. Koji said nothing.

“You are both aware why you are here.” Their mother spoke up. She was a woman in her late 40s, with her hair styled similarly to Kyoko’s. She wore a dark coloured kimono, with bronze patterns adorning it.

Yumiko directed the siblings’ gaze to the far end of the room, where on a table, lay a sheathed katana.

“Dwelling within this katana is a spirit that has protected this family, and Japan for decades.” Genji explained.

“It has always chosen it’s wielder from the youth of the family, and today that time has come once more.” Yumiko elaborated. “And today… it shall choose Koji as it’s next wielder.”

“But of course, mother!” Koji grinned.

“Then come up, and claim your destiny.”

Koji rose from the floor, smiling as he did so. He strolled to the far end of the room, where his mother, father, and future awaited. He stood before the katana, it’s sheath gleaming in the lighting of the room. Koji could see his own face on it, a facet he very much enjoyed.

“You haven’t forgotten tonight’s plans, have you?” Koji asked. “Celebratory dinner for my journey.”

“How could we? A future hero must be celebrated for the blessing he is!” Yumiko smiled.

“Just unsheathe the sword already…” Kyoko muttered under her breath.

Koji lifted the sword, placing his right hand on the hilt, his left on the sheath. He gripped the hilt tightly, and pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled.

And nothing happened.

Koji exclaimed in confusion. He tried and he tried to pull the sword from it’s sheath, but to no avail whatsoever. It was almost as though it had been glued in. Eventually, he set the sword back on the table, completely unable to unsheathe it.

“W-What the…? Why can’t I pull it out…?” Koji was visibly tense. For once, something hadn’t gone his way.

“This is… certainly strange…” Genji put his hand on his chin.

Kyoko pondered the situation herself. Her brother, who was supposed to be the future protector of Japan, wasn’t even able to claim his own weapon. That’s when it clicked in her head. The katana was said to choose it’s wielder. Was it possible that…?

“Uhm, Father?” Kyoko spoke up.

“Yes, Kyoko?” Genji turned to face his daughter.

“I was thinking, just now… what if I tried to unsheathe it?”

The whole room went dead-silent for a moment, as Kyoko’s suggestion set in the minds of her family members. And then, everything erupted.

“What–?! What did you say?!” Koji exploded with fury.

“Preposterous!” Her mother declared. “This path is for Koji, and Koji only!”

“...” Genji thought for a moment.

“...Well… there’s no harm in trying, is there?” He finally said.

“Father, you can’t be serious!” Koji gritted his teeth.

“Precisely!” Yumiko agreed. “This weapon is for Koji, not a weak-witted fool like her!”

“And yet…” Genji looked at the katana, and then at Kyoko. “Koji cannot unsheathe the weapon. If he truly is it’s next wielder, he should not have any sort of issue. That said… it’s only logical to have Kyoko try.”

“...” Koji tried to argue, but all he could speak was angry stuttering.

“Kyoko?” Genji faced his daughter once more. “If you will?”

“I’ll certainly try.”

“Hmph!” Yumiko turned her head.

Kyoko rose from her place, and walked to the table, picking up the katana. It was heavy; for a moment she began to doubt herself. But, like her father said: No harm in trying, right? She placed one hand on the hilt, the other on the sheath. And she began to pull. The katana rattled in place, as Kyoko struggled to make it move. She could hear her brother and mother mocking her quietly. “You’ve got some balls to do that after your spectacular failure…” She thought to herself.

The mockery only motivated Kyoko. She pulled more, and then, it happened. The katana sparked. The mockeries went dead silent, and Kyoko fell back in surprise as it did, the katana clanging onto the floor.

“You clumsy fool!” Koji clenched his fist in anger. “You dropped the family’s sacred weapon!”

“And you think you have the potential to wield it?! You’re a joke, Kyoko!” Her mother looked at her in disgust.

“B-But… Yumiko… Koji… look…” Genji was looking down, his gaze fixated on the floor.

Yumiko and Koji diverted their gaze to the floor, where they saw the most unbelievable sight.

The katana. It was out of its sheath. Kyoko had unsheathed the katana.

“T-This is…” Koji’s blood ran cold. “This can’t be! This was my legacy! I’ve been training for this day for years…!”

“...I-Impossible…!!”  Yumiko’s face went pale. “Koji’s future… this was supposed to happen–!”

Kyoko looked at the katana in shock. Did she… really do this? Did she really pull the katana from its sheath? Was she really…?

“This can only mean one thing…” Genji mused. “Kyoko is the next protector of Japan.”

“N-No…!!” Koji was on the verge of a fit. “No, that’s not possible…!! Kyoko must have cheated somehow!”

Kyoko would have responded with a comeback of her own, but right now she was in too much shock to say anything. She was… the next user? She stood up, still shaking.

“The truth has made itself apparent.” Genji’s face was stern. “There is no other possibility. The katana has chosen Kyoko.”

“F-Father…” Kyoko looked up at Genji, her expression unwavering.

“...” Genji looked at his daughter. “You have a great journey ahead of you, Kyoko.”

“I… I won’t accept this!” Yumiko fumed. “If that girl is to leave, she will do so immediately! I will not stand to spend another second around her!”

“That’s enough.” Genji refuted. “What happens next is for Kyoko and Kyoko only to decide.”

“I…” Kyoko opened her mouth. “I will go…”

“K-Kyoko…?”

Kyoko felt like she’d left reality. She really was the chosen wielder of the katana. She was destined to protect Japan from evil. But… she didn’t know the first thing about wielding a katana. Despite that, though… she wanted to do this. Not just for the sake of protecting Japan, or for the sake of continuing the family legacy, but also… to prove her mother and brother wrong. It was that which fueled her drive to take up the blade.

“...Father… I will go. I’ve been chosen. I can’t deny that, can I?” Kyoko smiled.

“...Right you are…” Genji agreed. “But… I cannot let you go unprepared. You will remain here for some time yet, as you are not trained with a katana. I will teach you the basics that you will need for your survival.”

“Thank you, father.” Kyoko smiled warmly.

The weeks passed, and after a month, the time for Kyoko’s departure from home had come. She stood outside the front door of the Kaneko manor with her father, the early morning sun beaming down on the two. Her mother and Koji were nowhere to be seen. They couldn’t bear to see Kyoko walk off with Koji’s ambition. Not that that mattered to Kyoko, however. The katana’s sheath hung on her waist, it’s gold plating beaming in the sunlight.

“And so the day has finally come…” Genji looked out to the city below the two.

“Mhm… it has…”

“I’m… sorry your mother and brother won’t see you off.”

“It’s OK. And besides… do you really think I care what they think?” Kyoko grinned.

“Of course you don’t…” Genji chuckled.

Genji turned to face his daughter. He kneeled down, and embraced her in a hug.

“I hope to see you soon, my child.” A lone tear fell from his eye. “And know… that as long as I’m here… you’ll always have a home to return to…”

“Thank you… father…” Kyoko smiled, but she too was fighting back the tears.

Genji let go, as his daughter rose to her feet, and began walking towards the front gate of the Kaneko manner. And as she exited the gate, he could only smile.

“Good luck… Kyoko…”

Kyoko stepped outside of the gate. She reached back, and undid the bun in her hair. She’d always hated having it tied back, and to her, letting it flow free was a representation of her own, newfound freedom. And she gazed down upon the streets of Kyoto, she unsheathed her katana, the metal of the blade sparkling in the sunlight. She took one more look down. 

Her future… no, her destiny, lay here.