#since we can’t be in two places at once

[demonic0angel]

"Why is my Wolf in whatever cult damned circle Constantine drew?

"He summoned her."

(This ask will not be related to this ask lmao. For the humor.)

Wolf dusted herself off. “Permission to leave?” She asked, and Red Hood nodded firmly.

“Granted.”

“What?!” Cried out several of the other heroes as Wolf neatly side stepped over the summoning circle and then into Red Hood’s waiting arms. He spun her around to check for any injuries before bringing her in close protectively, turning to glare at the others. Even though he had a helmet on his head, everyone could sense the dark look he was giving them.

Constantine looked nervous. “How did you get through the circle?! It should’ve also contained you and—”

Wolf hummed. “You were trying to summon two things at once. The Ghost King and something that can control the Ghost King. However, you were only able to summon me and since I’m human, your circle was unable to hold me in place. It seems as though you failed.”

Constantine growled. “This shouldn’t have happened! We needed to summon Pariah Dark! And how were you able to guess what the rituals were supposed to be for?”

“It’s easy. I can read ritual circles,” Wolf said, but she fell silent as Red Hood manhandled her into staying behind him.

“Alright, is anyone going to tell me what this entire stupid thing was supposed to be for? Or shall I just leave right now?”

For some reason, he had also been summoned to use his blood for the ritual. He was even more irritated because he had to be stabbed with a needle for all of this nonsense, only for it to fail.

Phantom raised his hand. His expression was very carefully blank. “We were supposed to summon the Ghost King to answer some questions about some rips in the dimension. Pariah Dark was supposed to appear, alongside whatever was needed to control the Ghost King. It seems we’ve failed since we only summoned… Wolf, was it?”

“Phantom!” Wonder Woman scolded, but Wolf answered Phantom’s question softly.

“… that’s right.”

Red Hood turned to Wolf, slightly confused on her uncharacteristically docile answer. Usually, he would’ve expected her to be sharp tongued and scold the heroes for a failed ritual (since she hated incompetence), but now, she was rather quiet.

Red Hood felt even more protective over her and wrapped an arm around her. He said coldly, “Since you failed, can we go? If you can’t even complete neither parts of the ritual, it just goes to show how incompetent you are. These are the people you surround yourself with, Batman?” He sneered at Batman, who remained silent.

Constantine was indignant. “There’s no way it could’ve failed! The ritual to summon Pariah Dark and something to control him was all done correctly, and I even used the blood of a liminal, which should’ve been exactly what was needed to summon the Ghost King! It should’ve worked! I swear!”

Phantom coughed. He seemed to be hiding a smile behind his fist, but Red Hood blinked and it was gone. “Well, maybe we were a bit too hasty. I’d say we should let Wolf and Hood go, and we can come back again after more research has been made? How’s that for a plan?”

Constantine grumbled but agreed. There were more murmurs but no one disagreed, all chastened by the scolding. Batman turned to Red Hood and then said, “You’re free to go.” Red Hood sneered again, rubbing Wolf’s shoulder before he held onto her protectively and turned to leave.

“Hood,” Batman called one more time.

Red Hood turned, pulling Wolf behind him again.

“… tell Wolf that we’re sorry she’s been brought into this. You two can go home and rest…. We have more than enough of your blood, so you won’t need to come back.”

Red Hood huffed, a lot calmer now. “Whatever, old man.”

Then he turned and left with Wolf in tow.

Behind in the ritual room, Phantom was on his phone, texting something to someone named Jazz. He was struggling not to laugh as he thought about what just occurred, muttering to himself, “I can’t believe they were trying to summon Pariah of all people...”

But alas, there was no one around to hear him mutter those words to himself. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have had to struggle several more times…

[artemisiasmuse]

Hey so ur insanely fucking talented I JUST read ur latest prompt if u have the time 🙂‍↔️ can we pls get a prompt of rafe going through readers Pinterest acc just to find that hidden board she’s so secretive about since she feels like ‘it’s too early for That and rafe wouldn’t like it’ and when reader finds out she’s just all prissy and a lil embarresed and rafes just all adorable about it <3333 anyways ly and take care it could be long too just dump ur head innit

ANON YOUR MIND i want to kiss ur brain, thank u for the support i appreciate so much :((

cw: fluff^2, some manhandling, height difference

rafe finding your wedding board:

he’s using your laptop for some work thing he can’t delay and since he’s at your place it just makes sense and you don’t think twice about it

once he’s done he notices your open tabs and while rafe is vehemently against snooping he can’t help himself but click on the “<3 wedding <3” pinterest tab he finds it full of rings, dresses, ceremony, decorations, cakes, and even invitation pictures. he thinks it’s sweet and he’s about to leave it alone, chalking it up to another girly thing, when he notices the description of the board. “for me and rafey one day” and then he decides no he can’t leave it alone. he takes a few pictures of the rings, for later, and tries to leave your laptop just as it was

he finds you in your room, putting clothes away into your closet and can’t help but think how you would in a wedding dress or just how pretty a ring would look on your fingers

you notice him staring, turning towards him with a smile, setting down the clothes you were folding, “all good?” he decides he’d much rather find out where you head is at, were you waiting for him to pop the question? you guys were young sure but not that young.

“uh huh, saw something interesting though.” his hands find your hips, turning you around so your back is to the wall. he knows you’ll try to run, so he gently walks you two backwards until your back is against the wall. you’re so trusting all you do is look up at him with wide eyes, he wonders if he should be concerned with how easily you let him manhandle you

“yeah what’s that rafey?” you mumble, taken with how strong your boyfriend is and how good he looks in a plain white tee. it should be illegal

“rafey there’s that name, you know you and rafey could make ‘one day’ a lot sooner.” he smirks down at you, leaning down with his arm resting next to your head, caging you in. you close your eyes as you realize at once what he’s referring to, embarrassment making you unable to meet his eyes. oh god you were so fucked. you’d been dating a while but you didn’t think it was time to bring up marriage! you were scared of rafe finding out and now you’d definitely fucked it up. god how embarrassing!

“hey! you weren’t supposed to see that.” you huff, your cheeks puffing up and you’re practically stomping your feet like a little kid. rafe is endlessly endeared, laughing at your reaction

“oh but you left it open, thought you wanted me to see?” he was crowding you against the wall, leaning down so he was your height and you couldn’t help but blink up at him owlishly. rafe was having too much fun teasing you.

“no i-, it was a mistake okay? just forget you saw it, we’re too young and it’s too-“

“relax baby, i thought it was cute, i was ready to propose on our second date.” he cut you off, there was no way in hell he’d give you the impression he wasn’t all in. your heartbeat stuttered at his words, second date, so early on you hadn’t even thought about a relationship let alone marriage.

“stop teasing.” your cheeks puffed up, if you weren’t so embarrassed you might have cried from how mean he was being. you really loved him truly and deeply, if he proposed you weren’t even sure if you could bring yourself to say no, age be damned.

“i’m not, mrs. cameron” your lashes fluttered at the name, rafe loved how easy it was to read you.

“oh my god.” you groaned, stuffing your face into his chest and making him laugh at your reaction. rafe thinks you should start getting used to the name, it’s gonna be yours soon anyway. now he just has to steal one of your rings to get the size right.

[ink-stainedkiss]

Tiger Hybrid Sukuna Headcannons

A/N: I loved this one so much, because we all need a bit of cute Sukuna in our lives 🙂‍↕️ I also liked this because i live for fantasy/hybrid au’s

Tiger!Sukuna who shocked his entire village by letting a mere woman stand beside him as his equal. He was a powerful figure, one that had slaughtered his very people, but somehow he didn’t slice your head off for getting near him. He never had an owner and never will, the idea was laughable to the King, so when he met you, he did the next best thing: made you his wife. Though some people in the town believe you do own him from the way he listens to your every need.

Tiger!Sukuna who can never admit the fact he has cat-like tendencies. (it’s not like he had tiger ears and a tail) You notice when he is annoyed his tail puffs up like the hair of a cat when they are fighting. You have heard many hisses and growls leave his lips when he hears something he doesn’t like. Not to mention he sleeps like a rock. There were times you would lift up his arm or push his head back and forth and it looked like he had passed in his sleep. You weren’t sure why he tried to hide his true nature, because you made it clear you loved how cute he could be.

“I am not cute.” Sukuna spit, acting like the word tasted bitter. Sukuna was a ruthless King, one that was known for slaughtering anyone who disrespected him, but obviously he tolerated you more than them. As much as he denied your compliments, it didn’t help that his orange tail flicked back and forth in exasperation.

Your eyes sparkled at the sight and you leaned against his large arms,”Would beautiful be a better word?” Sukuna grumbled, completely over your consistent pestering,”Or how about majestic? Maybe just handsome.”

“I prefer none of the options.” You frowned at his words,”Fine, then maybe something like fierce or-“ Just as you were about to continue, you felt a strong rope tie around your waist and lift you from the ground. You yelped but your sounds were muted as lips were pressed against yours. You immediately knew who’s lips they were, since you had been kissing them for years. It hit you once you closed your eyes and placed both of your hands on your husband's face that he had used his fluffy tail to yank you from the ground and shut you up.

A strong arm wrapped under your thighs and the others kept you steady since peking carried by Sukuna was like climbing a tree. The kiss was slow and meaningful. Once you pulled away, Sukuna showed you a soft smile, something only a select few have seen,”I would rather you just call me ‘My love’. “ You giggled softly, placing more gentle kisses on his face.

“What ever you request, My love.”

Tiger!Sukuna who knew you admired his sharp canines. He had caught you multiple times staring when he was cleaning them and since you were so bold, you stated multiple times you found his fangs fascinating. It might be a feline instinct, but after “”hearing these notions, Sukuna can’t seem to get his teeth off of you. When the two of you are alone, he strolls behind you as you get ready for bed and sinks his incisors into your shoulder. He holds you in place with his arms, smirking against your skin as you squirm slightly. Finally, he realizes his hold and the bite mark is evident, as was the large hickey he gave you. In some way, Sukuna enjoys marking you as if his people needed to know you belonged to him.

Tiger!Sukuna who always has his eyes on you. His gaze was naturally harsh, the slits of his pupils acting like knives the way they cut through everyone and focused on you. No matter where the two of you roam, parties, meetings, or just around the estate, you can always feel him watching your every move. During galas when you both had to attend, Sukunas stare made you feel like the innocent prey he would pounce on if you got close. (That’s sorta the case when the night is finally over)

Tiger!Sukuna who is a completely different person when alone with you. The sternness in his eyes fades away and he always finds his way into your arms. You knew about his past and childhood, something so sacred that you would never share with another. It was a shock he even let you hear it, but it was a sign of just how much he loved you. In his mind, you are the only one that would stay with him even after the things he’s done. You were his safe haven, something he never thought he had. It was foreign for Sukuna to find comfort in anything, let alone anyone. So during the long nights when the only sound is the trilling of the bugs and your soft breathing, Sukuna lays on your chest, the horrors of his world disappearing, and you caress his pink hair softly. The action is so small but it causes the King to purr. His chest rumbles on your stomach and you watch lovingly as his ears twitch.

Tiger!Sukuna who may be a bloodthirsty animal and cruel ruler, but he would never think of laying a hand on you. You were his saving grace. An angel that saw light amongst his inky soul. You were hopelessly in love with him and Sukuna knew he worshiped the ground you walked on. It was out of character, but love does crazy things to a person.

Perm Taglist:

@geektastic84 @galactacium @love-me-satoru @stilldontknowwhatiamdoing @retiredpieceofshits

[kxtsukixoxo]

pro!hero dynamight is known for his explosive nature, fans second guessing if they should really approach the hothead. is it really surprising when you aren’t scared of him?

𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 ᥫ᭡ 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗩 ᥫ᭡ 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧

katsuki hadn’t felt nervous before, in his entire life. if you would ask him what it feels like to be queasy, he wouldn’t be able to answer the question. but this afternoon? he felt his guts twist and turn, acrobatically. 

why did he need the approval of a barely two year old boy? maybe because he was your two year old boy. katsuki wanted the boy to like him, he had to. he made sure to pick up a dynamight plushie for kenji and a fresh bouquet of flowers for you, eager to meet your baby boy. 

he’d come across many kids, during patrol, or even during rescue missions, safely he could confirm, that he knew how to handle a kid, so what was he nervous about?  

katsuki felt the sweat drip off his palms as he walked towards your door, he felt the hair at the back of his neck stand up, second guessing if he should knock or not. repping his knuckles rhythmically against the door twice, he stood pin straight, waiting for the door to crack open. 

and on cue, the handle twisted. revealing you and kenji resting on your shoulder, taking a nap. 

“he’s asleep” you mouthed, scared to wake up the dazed kid. katsuki smiled at the sight of your motherly and nurturing side, watching you pack kenjis backpack, ready to leave. 

“you ready?” katsuki whispered hesitantly, making sure not to wake up kenji. you nodded as you grabbed your belongings. “leave your wallet behind” 

“hey!! you said i could pay this time” 

“don’t scream, you’re gonna wake up the baby” 

you glared at katsuki, watching him smirk while he placed your wallet down. he grabbed your free hand and placed it in his, the action stunning you. 

katsuki had kenji’s bag on his shoulder, while he held your hand, as you two walked to the car. opening the backseats door, to reveal a safety seat. you looked at katsuki, shocked. “what? we can’t have him buckled up without one, it’s a safety hazard.” 

“you could’ve just asked me for-“ 

“i don’t wanna hear it shhh, you’re gonna wake him up” you giggled at the gentleness katsuki displayed with kenji, watching him buckle up your baby, making sure his head wasn’t drooping down “i don’t want his neck to hurt when he wakes up” 

he closed the backseat door, once he was satisfied, and sure that kenji was safe in the backseat. opening the front door, for you. “such a gentleman” you giggled. katsuki grinned, as he clicked your seatbelt in, and made his way to the drivers seat. starting up his engine, making sure not to be too loud, incase he’d wake up the tiny sleeping figure in the backseat, with his thumb in his mouth. the kid was getting drool on the seat, but he couldn’t care less.

‘it hasn’t even been thirty minutes since i met this kid and he’s already got me wrapped around his finger’

the drive to the café was longer than usual, you two spoke about all sorts of things, making sure to catch up. of course you couldn’t explain kenji at the moment, he was in the backseat, drooling on the car that belongs to the man you have a slight crush on. deep in laughter, you heard babbles from the backseat, indicating your son had woken up from his deep slumber. katsuki peeked at kenji through the rearview mirror, finally taking in his features, deep green eyes, clearly he didn’t get that from you, and fluffy navy blue hair.

he didn’t inherit either from you, clearly. obviously taking after his father, however he did have your nose and eye shape, just a bit more round and upturned. he watched you grab, what seemed to be a rattle and hand it to the baby. watching him dangle it and giggle, causing the both of you to chuckle in the front seat.

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 -

@rinkomei @qyuin @kalulakunundrum @amayaaaxx @lotusstarr @mona345 @aryuunachigiri @emmaafinchh @haruesme  @nottherealslimshady @taxavoider @gomu-gomu-gojo 

[yangjungwonisms]

Dress- YJW

warnings: NSFW| dirty talk, semi-public sex, choking(only a little), MDNI 18+

You knew as soon as Jungwon stepped through the door today that you were about to have an interesting night. For one, he was in a much better mood than he normally was after work and secondly, he was clingier with you than usual. Not to say he was ever in a bad mood when he came home but today it was different. He hadn’t let you out of his sight once since he got home, immediately wrapping you in his arms for a hug and planting a kiss on your lips. You two stood like that for a while just enjoying being with each other. But every time you tried to walk away to continue with what you were doing he’d just pull you back into him and pout whenever you tried to leave. “Baby no don’t move please. wanna hold you, missed you so much today”. You never could deny him when he started asking so nicely. “Wonie, what has gotten into you today? Is everything okay”? At that he finally released his hold on you and walked into the next room. You followed him just a little confused about what he was doing. “I’m perfect baby, just missed you is all. Hey, I’ve got an idea, let’s go out tonight. We can get all dressed up and go out for drinks and then go have dinner”. You had to admit, the idea did sound nice, it would give you a chance to actually spend time with your boyfriend which is something you hadn’t gotten to do much of recently. “That sounds like a lot of fun baby. But are you sure everything is okay? You seem different today”. He simply turned to you, smiled and winked before answering “I’m fine baby, I promise. Just wanna take my pretty girl out on the town and spoil her”.

You’d never seen Jungwon get ready as fast as he did tonight. He was showered and dressed within 30 minutes leaving you to take your time. Eventually you had to lock him out of your room because he was starting to become a distraction. It had started with him sitting on the bed watching you with what you can only describe as a predatory look in his eyes. Then when you weren’t looking he had come up behind you placing little kisses up and down your neck. “You look so beautiful princess. Can’t believe how lucky I am to have you”. You turn around quickly dodging his embrace “Jungwon baby thank you but I need you to go away. If you want us to actually leave the house you need to let me get ready in peace”. He walked backwards towards the door putting both of his hands up in surrender “sorry baby, I’ll leave you to get ready in peace” and with that he closed the door behind him. You felt a tiny bit bad for kicking him out of your room like that so you thought you’d reward him later for being so good to you.

Once you had finished getting ready, you walk out to the living room to grab your jacket signaling that you were ready to go. Before you could go anywhere Jungwon looked up at you letting out a wolf whistle “damn my baby looks gorgeous for me”. No matter how many times he complimented you it always made you blush. “Thank you baby, dressed up just for you”. Jungwon was really starting to regret his suggestion to go out, not that he didn’t want to take you out and spoil you, he just really wanted to fuck you more. One look at him told you that. “Hm, I'm the luckiest man in the world, baby. We should get going now yeah”?

The entire ride from your place to the bar was one filled with tension, you were both displaying extraordinary amounts of restraint so as not to jump each other's bones in the back of the cab. The bar Jungwon took you to was very fancy and in a great neighborhood. He was able to steal you two a booth tucked away in the corner. Over the course of your time at the bar you two may have been drinking more than was planned originally. You two weren’t drunk by any means but you weren’t exactly sober either. But the thing that always seemed to happen when you two were tipsy was that you both became less aware of your surroundings and more aware of each other. The touches started out innocent, but quickly became lingering. Eventually that meant Jungwon placing a hand on your thigh, inching it up ever so slightly. If you were sober it might’ve been nearly imperceptible but the slow drag of his palm against your skin made you feel like you were on fire. Without the watchful eyes of anyone else he leaned in and started kissing you, pulling back just enough for it to appear innocent from the outside. “Baby, you look so sexy for me. Can hardly control myself right now”. You didn’t want him to either, one word from either of you and he’d have taken you right then and there even if you were in public. You grab his hand slowly inching it in between your thighs but stopping it inches away from the intended destination. He tries to move his hand so he can finally touch you the way he’d been wanting to all night. “Do you wanna know a secret”? He was hoping you’d say you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. “Tell me”. You pull him into you leaning forward just enough to place a delicate bite on his ear lobe “I’m not wearing any panties”. Once you said that, you released your hold on his wrist. With absolutely no hesitation he moved his hand just enough to come in contact with your pussy. He started to touch you albeit with less urgency than he normally would’ve had. “You do this for me baby”? Your only answer was a nod of your head. “Get your things, we’re going”.

Jungwon was eerily silent the entire ride home, you thought maybe there was the slightest chance he was mad at you for doing that, but what you didn’t know was that he was trying to control himself. But it was another story once he got out of the cab, he was perfectly fine waiting until you had gotten up to your apartment but then when you moved to step out of the cab he saw the briefest flash of your bare pussy and he lost all semblance of control. When you had entered the lobby of your apartment building he did a quick glance around to make sure no one was out there before he dragged you into the stare well. You had no time to protest before he had you pushed up against the wall. “Fuck baby, you’re so dirty leaving the house without any panties on”. Before you could wrap your mind around what was happening Jungwon snuck his hand up your dress wasting no time finding your clit and rubbing it. He’s quick to throw his hand over your mouth, silencing any moans that were threatening to slip out. He’s quick to grab your leg and hitch it up before he starts fucking two fingers into you. “So wet for me baby, was this what you had in mind when you chose not to wear any panties tonight”? All you were physically able to do was nod your head. He’d kept the pace of his fingers slow and steady, you surmised it was to work you up further. Just as he’s finally started to pick the pace up he’s quick to pull his hand out of your dress at the sound of someone walking down the stairs.

Before you two could get caught he pulled you out of the stare well and back into the lobby. You knew one look at you two would show how flushed you were and how hard Jungwon was in his pants. The wait for the elevator was torturous, Jungwon was all but flush against your back trying to hide the hard on he was sporting. You two were lucky enough to get an empty elevator. As soon as the doors close Jungwon is back on you once again, trapping you in the corner of the elevator and kissing you like a man starved. You knew your time in the elevator was coming to an end so you snuck your hand in between the two of you and palmed him over his pants. The way his hips immediately start rocking into your hand leaves you both dizzy. If you had the time you would’ve gotten on your knees and given him the best head of his life right there for everyone to see. Instead what you do is pop open the button on his pants and push them down just enough to pull his cock out. You can tell he’s taken aback by the sudden movement. He tries to stop your movements but you’re too quick, taking him in your hand. Your movements are quick and slightly impatient setting a punishing pace for him. “Fuck baby, we can’t do this here, anyone could see”. He was such a hypocrite, having had no issue fingering you in the stare well where anyone could’ve seen you two at any moment. “Hm but do you really want me to stop”? His hips had started to grind forward creating more friction for him. “No please don’t”. That’s what you thought. Taking a page out of his book you speed up your movements and start whispering into his ear, which is a move he always made on you. “Baby, you have no idea how much I need you to fuck me right now”. As he goes to speak the elevator stops, Jungwon is quick to tuck himself into his pants pulling you in front of him to hide what had been going on. He does this in just enough time before someone steps into the elevator. The air is awkward between you two, you could tell by his body language Jungwon was irritated.

You’d no sooner walked into your apartment before Jungwon had you pushed up against it bringing his hand up to wrap ever so slightly around your neck. “Did you think that was funny baby? Answer me”. You should’ve known you wouldn’t get away with your stunt back in the elevator. “Just wanted to make you feel good baby”. He doesn’t buy it for one second, scoffing while tightening the grip on your neck. “Should make you get on your knees for me baby, but I’m too impatient for that. Need to fuck you now”. He takes his hand off your throat to undo his pants and take his cock back out. He’s too impatient to undress you, opting to push your dress up around your hips. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around him. He’s about to push into you before you grab his hand and move it back to your throat. He’d only ever choked you a couple of times, each at your request but never during sex. He’d never be able to put into words how much he liked when you asked him to choke you. He pushes into you, bottoming out in one swift motion. He’d normally wait for you to adjust to him but the way your pussy is sucking him in he can’t find it in himself to care. His pace is so fast that you can’t catch your breath. But it’s also so good that you don’t care about anything else but the way his cock feels inside of you. “Am I fucking you good baby”? You were shocked he even needed to ask you that, especially with the way you were moaning for him. “You- fuck- you always fuck me good baby. Can’t get enough of your cock”. You aren’t sure how he still has the energy to fuck you against the door when he’s pistoning into you how he is. “Always so good at taking my cock baby. Been waiting to fuck you all night”. You’re all but screaming his name at this point, overwhelmed by everything, by the drag of his cock inside of you and how good he smells up close. You’re overwhelmed by the way he’s looking at you and with the sweat starting to drip off of his hair. In short, you’re overwhelmed by him. “Fuck Jungwon, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum baby”. His hips falter at that, a telltale sign he himself is about to finish. “Gonna cum too baby. Where do you want me”?

You’re so far gone that when you babble out your answer to him you miss his reaction. “Cum inside me please, it’s okay”. You two had never had sex raw before, even though you were on the pill it just never got brought up. “Princess wants me to cum inside her huh? Fuck- you’re gonna take what I give you then”. With a few more sloppy thrusts Jungwon buries his face into your neck letting out the most sinful moans before cumming inside of you. As soon as he pulls out of you, he all but collapses on the floor pulling you with him. You two lay there for a few minutes trying to catch your breath. Jungwon is content in that moment, but he knows that he’s nowhere near done with you tonight. “What got into you tonight Wonie”? He himself isn’t even sure, he just knows when he saw you once he got home from work that he needed to fuck you good and hard. “You got into me baby. Don’t tell me you didn’t like it. I felt how wet you were at the bar”. He had you there. You were just as insatiable as he was. But before you could go to answer he’s flipped you around so he’s laying on top of you. He leaves kisses down your neck slowly moving his way down your body. “Hmm baby, I’m sorry we didn’t get to dinner tonight. But I’m going to have to insist we skip straight to dessert”. With that, your night was about to get a lot more fun.

[ghostgirl-22]

hiii I was thinking about the opposites of popular tropes and how they’d play out,, and instead of only one bed maybe too many beds?? so then I thought about pat and art getting a hotel booked for a tournament where they have separate beds (and maybe even a couch in the room too, just to really show that they don’t NEED to sleep together) but the beds are like bolted to the floor so they can’t be pushed together. they try and fall asleep like that, and maybe pat is successfully able to but some point in the night art wakes up anxious and hard and has no other option but to shake patrick awake and get some TLC!

I love the opposites of popular tropes thing! Lol

I once saw a picture of an airbnb with 3 separate twin beds lined up next to each other some place in Italy and immediately thought of ATP going on vacation there saying “we need a place that will sleep three please” and getting that. No threesome for you. Lol. This is a mess and hardly proofread but I hope it amuses you.

CW: 18+ NSFW

——

So Art and Patrick are with a small group of US boys national tennis champions all playing in an international tournament in Italy. They’re staying in hostel style housing, Art and Patrick are roommates but there’s just way too many beds in their room. There’s like five beds. Two bunk bed set ups and an extra twin all the way across the room. All the furniture is nailed down.

In the past few months at school Art and Patrick have been oddly conjoined. Art is so used to laying down in their dorm room. Patrick needs to be an inch away from Art’s face at all times when they’re talking. One night they were up late talking and Patrick just shoved his bed closer. Since then they still haven’t bothered to push their beds back. It was almost three months ago. But it’s fine they still have their separate space even with the beds together and Art kinda likes it when he’s in the room without Patrick cause he spreads out like he’s in a queen.

Regardless Art thinks this setup for the next two weeks abroad is amazing. The room is huge and they get to have it all to themselves. Each of them with more than enough space compared to their tiny room at Mark Reballato. Plus being the only boy at home he’s never even had a chance to use a bunk bed like his sisters got to. He claims the top bunk and they spend the day out exploring with teammates so they don’t fall asleep and remain jet lagged for the start of the tournament.

They’re beyond exhausted by the time they get home at 8pm. They’ve been up since 2 in the morning their time. Even with so many extra beds they still end up sharing one bunk set up, Art on top and Patrick at the bottom. Art gets out of the shower and Patrick takes his turn Art climbs into bed expecting sleep to take him quickly. But surprisingly he’s still awake when Patrick gets out.

He watches as Patrick gets dressed and then turns off the light. He’s restless after the lights go out. He imagines it’s the awkwardness of being in an entirely different place. A whole new environment. As tired as he is he just can’t fall asleep. He hears Patrick’s soft snores an hour later and sighs. He climbs down from the top bunk. Patrick is breathing shallow, side sleeping with half of his body leaning up against the wall. Art slips in carefully next to him.

“Wha—“ Patrick stirs.

“I can’t sleep man, move over.” Art whispers. Patrick sighs and scoots even closer to the wall so Art can curl up next to him in the twin bed. He falls asleep right away.

He wakes up in the morning with Patrick’s arms around him, his nose buried against Art’s neck, spooning him. He’s hard, Art can feel it. He untangles himself and gets up for the bathroom. Patrick stretches and sighs waking up and they don’t talk about it. The day continues as usual.

The tournament starts that afternoon. They play doubles against a Dutch team, twins. They’re decent and if Art had a worse doubles partner he might feel a little worried, but he and Patrick take them down pretty easily. They spend the evening out with teammates, exploring Rome, the Pantheon and the Trevi fountain. They eat too much carbs for dinner and have gelato for desert. Patrick finishes Art’s.

Art thinks by the end of the night he’ll be exhausted enough to fall asleep right away. He doesn’t use a top bunk this time. He gets into the bottom bunk on the other side of the room. Patrick across from him. Maybe it was being up high that had him awake and anxious. But again after they turn the lights off Art is awake and restless for almost two hours. It doesn’t matter which way he tosses or turns. He sighs and sneaks back into the bed with Patrick.

“I knew you’d miss me,” Patrick smirks, he’s awake this time as Art shoves him over.

“Yeah right, I think I’m just not used to Italy yet.” Art says.

“Yeah, okay.”

Art rolls his eyes and settles into the tight space next to Patrick and falls asleep easily. He dreams about Patrick, they’re playing tennis, singles, hitting the ball back and forth and back and forth in an epic rally. Moaning as they do it. Moans getting louder with every stroke of the racket. Breathing getting heavier. In the morning he’s waking up, his boxers sticky and soaked with cum, blankets tangled up around them, he’s got one leg thrown over Patricks heated thighs. Patrick has an arm over Arts chest and he’s still asleep.

Art hurries out of bed, hoping to clean up before Patrick gets the chance to make fun of him for having a wet dream at this age. But Patrick knows. He pushes the bathroom door open while Arts in the shower so he can piss in the toilet.

“What were you dreaming about last night?” He teases pulling the shower curtain back so he can look at Art. Patrick’s hair is a mess of sleep, his clothes all disheveled and the side of his boxers have a little spot where Art stained him too.

“It was nothing…being in a new place probably…please I’m sorry okay?” Art snaps dragging it closed again.

Patrick chuckles. “So not fair. If you were gonna get your cum all over me we could at least do it the fun way.”

Art shivers thinking about the last time they jerked off together. Younger but still too old to be doing it sitting across from each other on their beds. Art realizing he wasn’t imagining anything, that he was getting off on watching Patrick alone. He panicked and refused to do it again after that. God, he hopes he didn’t say Patrick’s name in his sleep.

He comes back to himself and realizes he doesn’t hear Patrick’s steady stream anymore. “Don’t flush,” Art says quickly because Patrick loved to play that game when they were younger at school so the water would go instantly hot.

“Fine dude, just hurry up. We’re late.”

They make it to the courts on time. Progressing through the tournament. They beat one team after another even as a few of their teammates from the US are eliminated. Every evening their sponsors hold an event where they get to explore Rome. The Spanish steps, the Vatican. And by the end of the week Art has tried sleeping in every different bed in the room including the one Patrick claimed. Much to Patrick’s amusement because he always ends up back in bed with Patrick. And every morning with the limited space of it being a twin and the inability to move any of the beds closer he’s more tangled up with Patrick than he’s ever been before. He’s smelling him and feeling him and practically cuddling him every night and sleeping like a baby.

Embarrassingly he has two more wet dreams during the week one in which he wakes up midway through horrified to realize he’s grinding on Patrick’s thigh. To which Patrick jokingly says “dude we should just start fucking at this point.” Before rolling over with a loud groan and going back to sleep.

Art is humiliated. Not sure what the proximity is doing to him. He doesn’t stay up too late thinking about it because Patrick’s snores lull him back to sleep. And Patrick thankfully doesn’t bring it up in the daytime.

By Friday, they’re probably the only Americans that made it to the finals and they don’t play again till Monday.

The legal drinking age in Italy is 18 which Patrick insists they take advantage of. They go out bar hopping. Showing ids to try any and everything. A couple of teammates from Nevada meet up with them and they all go to a club, flirt with Italian girls who barely speak English and end up near the basically empty Trevi fountain at 2 in the morning. Sharing cigarettes with 3 girls from the club. Outside there’s a small smattering of people. one guy thrums a Spanish guitar. An Italian couple singing along to whatever he’s playing on a bench near by. It sounds beautiful.

Theres another random couple, two guys making out against the wall. Art feels so tipsy he has to do a double take. Patrick smirks when he catches him do it and Art feels himself flushing.

The Nevada doubles team are drunkenly posing for pictures in front of the empty fountain while Patrick is asking for Italian lessons from the girls. He mispronounces words and it makes all three of the girls giggle. He points at Art to try it and when he gets it down the girl Patrick likes tangles her fingers in Arts hair and takes the cigarette from him. “So good and handsome. Maybe we go to bed and teach more things?” She smiles at him and Art nods.

“Yeah let’s go to bed,” Art grins at Patrick who rolls his eyes in response.

“I want to go to bed, come on,” Patrick whines, trying and failing another Italian pronunciation which makes them giggle more.

They’re not allowed to have anyone of the opposite sex in the hostel so they unfortunately have to say goodnight. The girls promise to come by the tournament grounds after work on Monday.

As they get ready for bed they’re both excited from the alcohol and the girls, giddy with nervous energy and arousal. Art doesn’t bother trying. He just gets in the bunk with Patrick. Patrick plays with his hair. “Show me how you say that word.”

Art smiles. “You have to be able to roll your Rs.”

“Know it all,” Patrick kisses him and Art’s eyes widen in shock. “Roll them, I wanna feel it.” Patrick whispers against his lips.

Art is holding his breath, so stunned. So hard. He whispers it.

“Again,” Patrick says. Art begins speaking and Patrick kisses him through it. Tongue slipping into Arts mouth. Before Art knows what he’s doing he’s tangled up, mouths pressed together. Hand down Patrick’s boxers wrapped around his big warm cock while Patrick is using his large calloused hands to jerk him off. Gasping into each other’s mouths while they get each other off. Art moaning his name. Telling himself it’s the girls that have him all worked up like this. Knowing it’s a lie. They come almost simultaneously and it feels like a relief from whatever Art has been feeling all week.

“Mm,” Patrick moans against his throat. “Better right? Now you don’t have to just dream about me.”

Art shivers. “How did you—was I—“

“Every night. Saying it in your sleep. I thought you were awake the first night honestly. Pressing up against me. I had to grab you to keep you still so I didn’t fucking do something I shouldn’t.”

“Fuck,” Art whispers.

“I mean I’m willing if you want to fuck me next,” Patrick grins.

Art has to laugh, incredulous. he’s just so confused. “The dreams were about tennis.”

“I’m sure.”

“No i promise. We were playing tennis but it…” he shivers remembering the way Patrick was moaning through his orgasm so similar to how he sounded in the dreams. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“So what now?”

“You close your pretty eyes and go to bed so we don’t sleep through brunch.”

Art sighs “I should clean up a bit,” and Patrick laughs.

“What?” Art demands.

“Nothing. It’s just kinda hilarious that all it took 5 beds and 6 nights to end up here.”

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 12 - Emotional Damage

You make an observation.

On AO3.

Y’all walk. Everything is dim and gloom. Things move outta the corner of your eye and whispers skirt along the edges of your hearing.

Shadowheart seems to still be immune. Her eyes is fever bright.

The fuck does it mean to be in a cult in a place with literal, physical gods.

Fuck.

After an hour or two, Astarion comes drifting back down the line. Dread curls tight in you.

But y’all’re dating. Right? That means communicating. That’s what everybody says. That’s what most of your therapists talked (at) to you about. You just ain’t, like, listened very well.

You take a breath. This is about more than just you. This is about someone other than you, too. So you turn to him. “Good mor—”

“I wanted—” Astarion says at the same time.

The both of you shut up. Then do a little verbal dance, like trying to out polite somebody through the door in front of you.

You win.

“I wanted to apologize,” Astarion says first. There’s a hint of his usual lilting smarm, but it’s too clipped around the edges to be entirely smooth. “For last night. I’m usually, ah, better up to the challenge.”

Oh. When he, well. But you read that plenty of guys do that. Girls, too (you came on his hand in maybe a couple minutes last night, which might be a personal record). You were both going at it, so you don’t really see any reason for him to be so stiff about it. But he’s striding around like some Victorian butler, back yardstick straight, chin perfectly level to the ground (you read British royals train themselves to walk like that).

This man is usually all twirling hands and shoulder shimmies.

You debate it. Decide to take your chances. Lift your hand and flick the shoulder of his armor.

“It’s all good,” you say, when he glances (sharply) to you. “I liked. Um. Being with you.”

“How encouraging,” he says.

The rest of the group is mostly in front of y’all, with Karlach taking up the rear. You hope like hell they mind their own damn business, since half of them got pointy ears and you assume that means they all got super hearing. Fucking close ass quarters.

“How’re you doing?” you say. It’s usually the next step in small talk.

Astarion smiles. There’s something off about it. It’s a little too…perfect. Composed, even.

Fake.

“I’m quite well, all things considered. Rather eager to show you a full sampling of my portfolio, once we get the chance.”

Is he just nervous? Ashamed, maybe? There’s a whole parody song about coming in your pants. He might be worried he, what, disappointed you?

(It did the opposite. It…kinda went to your head in the moment, before he ran off. What an interesting thing to learn about yourself, his soft grunts filling your memory as he clutched at you and the glimpse of his face drawn tight—).

You shake your head. You’re having a conversation, goddamnit, not daydreaming about how he sounds mid-orgasm.

Although you could hear it again. Tonight, even, he seems to be offering. Twenty-five years, give or take, since puberty and you didn’t care much about all that. Felt horny, sometimes, but not really connected to any person (you did have your collection of toys, though, cause you’re a curious kind). Now this man got to you and woke up something in you and your body perks up at the slightest hint of him like a starved dog.

Still.

There’s a weird remoteness to him. And you don’t wanna push things too fast. Right?

“I’m getting kinda rusty on the Chondathan, actually,” you say.

“What?” Comes out flatter than fucking Kansas. The man nearly stops dead.

Ah fuck, you fucked it. Ryan fucking Meadows ghosted you for being frigid and weird and you’re difficult and isolated and, and…

“Chondathan? That you was teaching me?” Because by god, this was the road you turned down and you can’t pull a u-turn now. You just gotta plow further on. “We haven’t used that. Since the Underdark. And I think I’m forgetting it. But it was fun. And seemed important?”

The way he rolled the r’s back at you. The way the words twisted in his smooth voice. The only thing human (kinda) down there. The only other living (mostly) thing that spoke. The tether that meant you wasn’t alone.

“I,” Astarion says. Blinks. Then that weird smile slips back on. “If you like. I do have a few books we’ve picked up along the way.”

And you cannot, can not stop the high sound you make. A month or more. Fucking weeks of sitting around at night, waiting to fall asleep. Sore. Aching. Too tired. Fucking bored.

“Holy fuck, I miss books so bad. Brainworms and monsters and murder and all that shit, I could deal with so much better if I could fucking read.”

Astarion’s lips purse, and he taps his chin with one finger. “Yes, you did mention a ridiculous public library.”

Gale makes a sudden movement ahead.

You kinda doubt he’s got any kids books, though. Nothing you could sound out, let alone comprehend on the little you’ve grasped so far (yet).

“What’re your books about?” You hope to hell they ain’t all religious texts or old essays collections of Old Man Philosopher Yells at Clouds. Historically on Earth, those were the only things valuable enough for people to want to preserve, all copying by hand. Unless they got printing presses here. In which case, could they have novels?

Astarion leans in close (it’s goddamn ridiculous how distracting he smells) and says, “I honestly haven’t a clue. I snatch them up to sort out later.”

Practical, if heavy. Well, maybe not for the average person. Who didn’t grow up in a fuck ass cult out in the sticks that treated anything not the Bible or the printed pamphlets of the Pastor as contraband (you’d been so nervous the first time you ever stepped into the city library) (the lord was gonna strike you dead) (the devil was gonna enter your soul and possess you) (holy shit there was so many and you wanted all of them).

“We can do a book haul,” you say. Which you then have to explain, and this time Gale just stops to let y’all catch up so he can listen in, not even bothering to hide it).

The road curves down and ends in a fuck off giant of a dead tree, fallen on its side over a crevasse. What looks a lot like wagon ruts carve up along that dead trunk.

You’re careful to follow in the exact footsteps of Wyll out front, and absolutely not look anywhere but your next step and the bank beyond. And not visualize your foot slipping, ankle folding, the tumble into the long dark below.

“Would you,” you start, mostly so you can distract yourself. Only to realize how presumptuous you’re being. But Astarion lifts an eyebrow, cause you started a question and need to finish it. “I mean. I don’t wanna be rude. Or demanding or nothing. But um. Would you mind? Reading to me? You can say no.”

“Doing alright back there?” Wyll says, once y’all are across.

You lift a thumb. Which you also then have to explain. Some gestures are the same here, but that one ain’t. Weird.

Astarion watches you, head cocked. Something strains around his eyes. Disappears the second you return your attention to him.

“Of course, my dear. It just seems a waste when we could be enjoying our time with other means.”

His hand in your pants. Maybe even your hand in his pants.

Your body flushes hot and tingling. Greedy. But also, y’know, fucking books.

Gale makes an odd sound and falls back further to join Karlach. You can feel her grin on the back of your head.

“I. I do, um. Like that,” you say. A lot. You’d probably ruin your panties here in a minute or two as your body starts to holler about it. “But, I dunno. That’d get boring if that’s all we do, huh?”

Astarion’s face changes. Or the angle does, or the torchlight hits it odd and you been spending too much time staring at him. Like repeating a word too many times, until it don’t sound real. A twitch, a flicker of something, and he looks like a different person.

His eyes. They’re…round. Ain’t never seen them that young. It makes him look…younger. Softer, maybe. Only for a second. Just enough to clock it. Then he twists himself back to smarm. Lifts a hand and presses it to his chest all offended southern belle, and gives a tiny gasp.

“Boring? Oh darling, have I left you so unsatisfied? Perish the thought. Only, you sounded quite pleased when I joined you last night.”

Said loud enough for everybody to hear. Do not glance back, Shadowheart. Don’t she fucking dare. She fucking offered you birth control, she knows what y’all’re about.

“Oh, what an interesting stone formation over there,” Gale says behind y’all.

You want to swat Astarion’s arm. You want to swat him so bad.

And the reply comes to you. Perfect. Sharp. A glance to his crotch and a crook of your eyebrow and you could say “really” all flat and he would know exactly what you was talking about.

But he ran off last night. Fucking apologized to you about it, and this seems…this is covering. All of it. It washes over you all cold and syrupy. His approach, what he’s said, his offer. He’s…worried. What, that you don’t like him no more? That you don’t want him no more?

That perfection in your mind would hurt him. Maybe more than you even know. You can see that clear as day, and the thought makes your heart ache (jesus fuck, you’re in so fucking deep).

You ain’t gonna do that to him. And fuck everybody else being nosy or judgy to you. You gagged down enough shame on the farmstead for years. You ain’t gonna choke down one drop more. Especially not here. Like this.

You lift your chin. Meet his gaze. “My people got a saying about too much of a good thing turning it sour. If all y’all eat is chocolate, you get sick. So yeah, I did like it. And if you don’t mind, darlin, I’d like you to read to me tonight. You, you got a nice voice.”

Probably didn’t need the last part, judging from Karlach’s tiny squeal and Shadowheart’s face pinching so hard you can see it in fucking profile. But it happened, and it seems to have whammied your target. Man actually takes a step back before he catches himself. And there’s them wide eyes again. Like…like you. In them early days. When Sasha or one of the group home neighbors baked some cookies and brought them to you, and you wasn’t used to getting anything but basic rations and a new dress when yours got too roughed up to patch, because asking for more was a sin. Decadence opens the door to the devil.

To this man, one compliment is a whole tray of cookies. A gift he wasn’t expecting. Something that didn’t even occur to him.

Your heart hurts again.

“I, of course,” he says, all quiet.

Up ahead, Wyll calls out. “I see light ahead!”

[totallyxtaurus]

I just want you to know who I am 🏮

Summary: What if Sylus had kept going to all those lantern festivals in hopes you'd be there and what would he do if you actually were. Pairing: Sylus x reader A/N: Um hi! I haven't written a "fanfic" since middle school so this has me super uncomfortable and feeling especially vulnerable since I am VERY out of practice. I've only been writing academic papers for the past four+ years and while I've taken a couple creative writing courses I just felt subpar compared to my peers and I stopped writing fiction completely. However, I maladaptive daydream constantly and Sylus + music is a really good source of creativity for me. I have a part two in mind but we'll see! So, my awkward ramblings aside, I hope you enjoy! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

“Boss, we found them. Apparently, they’re residing in Linkon,” the twins reported as they placed the manila folder on his desk. Sylus, not sparing them a glance, grunts softly in recognition keeping focused on his task at hand. However, a fire fueled by hope kindles in his heart at the news, radiating warmth through his chest, as if gently urging him to surrender to its pull. He opened the folder and began to read the information in front of him. Still, nothing matched the description he had given. Heaving a sigh, the flame of hope dampened, Sylus notices a note on the document about the upcoming lantern festival. He pauses, wondering if, regardless of the accuracy of the information he has, you might be there.

The sky had already grown dark, and fireworks echoed in the distance. The smell of delicious food permeated the air and the bright lights of millions of lanterns strung up and decorated every inch of the ground burned into Sylus’s retinas. Yet, he continued to press on. He’s been walking around for hours, taking in every sight and smell, but also searching for anyone who might be you. Anyone with the same color hair or stature as you once had. His trained eye sought out anyone who laughed in a similar octave you had, scrutinizing each face, hoping he finally found you. But every time, it led to that same emptiness cradled deep in the core of his being—the part of you still trapped there, lying dormant.

That was… how many years ago now? Sylus had lost count of how long he’d returned to Linkon’s lantern festival. Each time a failure, each time dimming the flame of hope that once burned at the mention of Linkon City. Yet, it was that time of year again when the festival would commence, just as it always did. This would be the last time Sylus participated, finally deciding to give up the search for you—for good. The same sights, sounds, and smells that once sparked curiosity in Sylus, now suffocate him. What had once been a world of wonder distorts into a stifling prison, each sensation now nauseating, a reminder of the weight that has settled on him.

Up and down the same aisles, back and forth through familiar stalls, Sylus drifts through the festival on autopilot, visiting the vendors he’s known for years. Each one greets him with a warmth that feels strangely foreign, their smiles are tinged with an apprehension he can’t ignore. That same apprehension had followed him ever since he first started coming to the festival—whether it was the stolen glances of passersby or the blatant gawking of children. Sylus knows he sticks out like a sore thumb, but he ignores it, continuing his monotonous stroll.

He stops in his tracks, taking in the scene before him—a child wailing over what sounds like a lost hand puppet. Sylus glances down at the lion head puppet resting in his hand and kneels to offer it to the child. The crying halts instantly, and wary yet sparkling eyes look up at him. The parents, overwhelmed with gratitude, profusely thank him before ushering their child along. As he straightens up, a familiar floral fragrance hits him. His heart races. His head snaps left and right, his body swiveling desperately as he searches for the source. He knows that scent—it sparks the fire within him, a fire that ignites and pulses through his entire body. Without thinking, his legs begin moving, drawn by a golden trail of light that weaves through the reddish-black mist around him. It’s guiding him. It’s guiding him to you. You’re actually here.

Also, in case anyone is like me and is interested in knowing the inspiration behind pieces of writing. This is the song I was listening to while writing and titling this! 💗

[dumbgoondog]

Kenjaku’s Brain Teaser

MDNI +18 NSFW

Pre established relationship, gn!reader, friends with benefits or dating, reader is a bit of a brat. He/they Kenjaku.

Cw/Tw - gore. Brain smut. No blood but you are up in his brain, literally. Licking and fingering. Eating that shit out like coochie. Cannibalism I guess?

You’re bored. Kenjaku had been entertaining the disaster curses and Choso for hours now playing their 3rd? Round of Life, now. Why? Mahito is making a legacy story that he’s starting a super amazing family line and each game is the kids from the last game. This also included that before they started the second round new rules were established to the game to make it fair. Choso has also become invested in his little family legacy story as well, Kenjaku is just having so much fun as well. Jogo looks like he’s about to blow though, and is trying to levy that a new rule should be added that if you’re sharing a space with a player you can attempt to MURDER their family.

Yeah, it’s fun to watch, especially since each round everyone has to convince Jogo to stay and not blow everything up. Two rounds ago you watched Mahito and Kenjaku under the table take bets how long will Jogo last, and you’re pretty sure that Choso has started to draw his family. Maybe you weren’t THAT bored, but still, you were wanting attention and were feeling restless.

Pulling yourself off the couch you give Kenjaku a little puppy pout over your shoulder and go upstairs once kenjaku gives you a smile and shrug, sticking his tongue out. You dramatically groan as you go up the steps already planning how to get back at your partner in crime. Maybe you could unorganize his things, or scoot things an inch to the left? You’ll think of something…

Kenjaku laughs trotting up the stairs to get out of the way as Mahito runs his arms out stretched like wings as Jogo sends insects flying after Mahito. Choso is ducking for cover shielding his drawings of his family characters, and Kenjaku loves it. 1, cuz he won the bet. 2, cuz look at this all, the way that these curses interact and their values! 3, cuz he knows he’s annoyed you and you’ve got something waiting for him upstairs.

Coming into his office, they look around quirking a brow a smile tugging on their lips. You’re clever and they love that, you do things that are fun and a lovely challenge. Slipping into chair he looks over everything and nothing seems out of place… mildly concerning but exciting!

You on the other hand are squeezed between the bookshelf and potted plant behind his desk holding still and being quiet waiting for him to settle in. You figured out exactly what you’d do, and he was going to HATE it. So once Kenjaku had settled in enough, you move out and sneak up-

“Hello you, what have you planned for me hmm?”

You click your tongue and rolls your eyes, “I’m not sneaky enough, or you’re just too aware of everything.” Kenjaku doesn’t even look up, he just gives a little laugh and shrug. Luckily that works in your favor as you move behind annnnddd-

Snip!

There’s a good pause before Kenjaku reaches a hand up and touches at the thread of his stitches you’d just snipped. You hold back a snicker of smug satisfaction while Kenjaku gives a heavy mildly bemused sigh, “Wow, really? Childish. As much as this is mildly annoying you could certainly do better. Get my thread.”

“No,” you muse but one side eye and you tuck your tail, walking to the drawer of twine, “can we use the pink stitching this time? It’d look so good!”

Of course you know he wants the black twine, and he knows you know so he doesn’t even answer. You snatch it up and walk back to him pulling the threading of his stitches out. To your lack of experience you don’t have a hand up to hold his brain cap in place as it starts to slide and Kenjaku has to reach up to catch it, “Careful now, have you no tact? Hmm? You know, the brain is extremely sensitive, delicate, and you can’t just be so careless. Especially since RCT comes from the brain and I wouldn’t be able to heal as well if you did to much damage. That is a good question that brings up however, would non lethal brain damage be able to debilitate a sorcerer from using cursed energy or perhaps help awaken one’s cursed technique even-“

You look up and stare at the ceiling with an exhausted groan. Looking back down you stare at the slightly exposed purple brain and the liquid dripping from the opening. Without much thought or consideration you reach out and trace a finger along the gummy, squishy organ.

“Perhaps the brain works with cursed energy but the soul is the ho-oh-oh! Mmph- and what are you huff… doing now, hmm?” Kenjaku groans turning his head to look to you a bit flush in the cheeks. You’re slack jaw, his brain was sensitive and got him to moan like a bitch! A mischievous grin takes over your face as you reach both hands up to trace and touch at his brain lightly pressing and massaging the folds.

Kenjaku gasps a hand jerking out to try and grab onto you, but falling short grabbing his arm rest. Their eyes screw shut as they bite their lip smiling trying to maintain posture but shuddering feeling you caress and tease a finger into the wrinkles a dirty “shlk” noise accompanying it. Kenjaku gives another stuttering groan and breathes raggedly, “aaah what are you- you ooh fu-uh-uck~ keep going. Yes, keep going.”

You dip your fingers in more squeezing them into cracks and trailing them through the purple squishy maze. Kenjaku chokes a bit on his own sounds their hips stuttering up trying to Buck and fuck into nothing, desperate. You smile, biting your lip seeing Kenjaku coming so undone from such gentle touches and just barely teasing them has them almost whimpering under you.

“Fuck- push, push in some more. The parietal lobe- mmngh yeah darling please, up and a bit to the-the back, oh you feel so good in me,” They’re still goin on and now it’s your goal to get the bitch to shut it. Moving your hands to where instructed you slip your thumbs between the halves and fingers into his wet folds milking out his juices. Oh the moan that draws out is the cry of absolute pleasure and the way a weak trembling hand comes to hold your hip has you giddy.

The man who’s normally busting your guts, weak and nearly whimpering trying and failing to maintain his composure. He’s got a tent pulled tight in their robes a wet bead already forming at his tip. With a little hum you roll your fingers and swallowing back the slight questioning of cleanliness, lean in dragging your tongue along his folds.

Best decision of your LIFE. The way his back arches and the cry of pleasure that rips from his center, how his hand clenched around your hip certainly going to leave a bruise. The drool that falls past their lips as they twitch their hips and squeeze their thighs together seeking more pleasure. Your face is flush and swallowing the juices that aren’t that bad honestly, just kinda salty.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Please, oh, please!” Kenjaku whines and who are you to deny? You keep massaging and lean back in to lick and kiss more, making Kenjaku jerk and moan. Both hands are on you now, squeezing and grabbing trying to find any stability while pleasure racks through him.

You can tell he’s getting close, from the way his breathing is picking up and getting more breathy than moan filled. The way his brows are screwing together as they go from eyes shut to open and rolled back. You kiss a slow teasing trail along the crest, and are about to dip your tongue between the halves to let him hit that peak when-

“Geto! Geto! Jogo is going to maximum meteor us! Calm him! Send help! Wee woo wee woo!” Mahito’s chipper and jovial voice breaks through the symphony of pleasure. You snicker, and pull back, sliding the thread on the desk more in front of Kenjaku.

“Looks like you’re needed! Sorry for distracting! I’ll let you get to it!” You sneer and skip away with Kenjaku’s exasperated sigh following you and his quiet murmur of curses. He’ll get you back for that. You know you’ll get your comeuppance.

[trashisstillhere]

Woooo! After a few days on working, I finally got these two finish for the NN AU!

No, they’re not new characters! These two are actually one of the original canon characters you all already know of! The two main boys and mcs themselves!

Randy and Howard!!! ✨✨✨✨✨👏👏👏👏

Aw yeaa!!! Surprise!!!

I have finally got to their looks in 12th grade in the NN AU! It wasn’t easy but it’s done now!! Let’s gooo!

And yes, Randy has other outfits. They were first concepts for what his outfit should be but I kinda liked all them a lot so I Just made them two different outfits- he also has a little ponytail!! Cuz why not? It fits him! Plus it matches with First Ninja in a way :3 like father like son

But yeah!! Let’s get to a bit of their info, shall we? It isn’t that much and crazy….or anything!…. Teehee~

—————

The two main bros themselves! Now in 12th grade at Norrisville high and NN’s first friends ever since they first started going to their school! With Randy being the kids current ninja mentor! (Besides the Nomicon-)

How the hell did these two even get to 12th grade after everything they have done back in 9th grade? Beats me, lol-

——

Howard info: Howard Weinerman himself, in 12th grade, so far is still the same old laidback and cool short chubby guy we all know him as. Even after growing up a bit, he still hasn’t changed a bit…..well…okay, maybe he HAS changed at least a LITTLE..

Especially his hair…

While he hasn’t been possessed by the Tengu for so long now, it still is somehow linked with him in a way, giving his hair a slight new look…even his eye color seemed to have changed a little bit too! This makes things a bit…worrying….but hey, he’s okay! It’s not like he’s feeling any pain from it or anything! He’ll be fine! He can handle it!..

Besides, he hasn’t had to deal with that damn demon bird in a few years!..

Until one day, the Kitsune was freed by a certain Jock (by accident) during a field trip…

Alerting the said demon bird…

Oh yeah, Tengu Howard makes his return!.. all thanks to the Kitsunes own return!

However, this isn’t the only bird kind of form he’ll be having…

One day, both Howard and Randy ended up in an argument. Just a typical bff argument, ya know?.. however, this one didn’t end as nicely as the last ones they had… instead, it ended up with a familiar pink stank following up to Howard…

Leading him to becoming Stanked for the first time ever in his life….by none other than the sorceress herself.

Stanked form!! Yeah that’s right, he getting Stanked in this AU!

A rooster. A wild one, that is. With extra sharp teeth and a slight interesting color palette… wait… now that I think about it, it is a little similar to the Tengu!

Damn, even when stanked, Howard STILL can’t get away from his Tengu possessed form.

Anyway, this guys mad MAD. Like a normal rooster, he will immediately go attack if he sees anyone as threatening in any way, which in this stanked monster state, he ALWAYS will.

Of course, it is up to NN and Randy (who not only feels bad for this since his argument with him is the reason why this happened in the first place but also cuz of his fear of chickens and roosters-) to go stop and destank him!

———-

Randy info: ah yes, the one and only, Randy Cunningham! You all know him! He was the ninja of norrisville! All through 9th grade up until he got to 12th! The role is now NN’s but even so, since the kid has a whole new different mask and not exactly the one he has, he still gets to be a ninja himself! Just not the main one anymore… but hey! He’s the new ninjas mentor now! And friend! :)

Actually, he wasn’t supposed to be their mentor to begin with. Once NN got the role, he was supposed to have his mind wiped in the ultimate lesson just like every other ninja (expect Mac Antfee…but now he has!) and let his ninja journey finally end…. That is exactly what The Nomicon told him was gonna happen once NN would start their own ninja journey.

But after seeing how much the new ninja was struggling with both their new ‘job’ and personal problems and struggles of their own, he absolutely REFUSED to have his mind wiped and started protesting against the Nomicon, telling it that he wanted to go help NN as he could tell they wouldn’t be able to handle it all by themselves even with the books help. NN needed another person to help them, someone who was a ninja with lots of experience. He thought he would be best for the job. After some more arguing, the Nomicon finally agreed to let the boy be their mentor for now on. BUT! Once NN finally is fully independent on themselves and brave enough to continue on their own, he HAS to go mind wipe himself. for good. With a slight hesitation yet relief, the boy nodded and agreed.

As NN’s mentor, Randy is, or at least always tries to be, sweet and patient to them as he helps them with their new ninja duty. At first it was just him trying to be a teacher to his ‘student’ and nothing more but as he went on with it, he ended up being more attached to the kid then he thought he would. It went so far that he started calling them tons of little nicknames here and there, ‘kid’ being the most common. He also got very overprotective over them, it mostly happens whenever either the Nomicon makes NN do something that could be too dangerous or any of his former enemies tries badly hurting them in any way. (Ya already know the rest, I mean, I had written a bit about this before lol)

As for when being just himself? Like Howard, he hasn’t changed one bit! He’s still his usual lovable dork self! And so far with this ninja mentor role of his, he’s doing pretty good! Yeah….good… he’s alright, he can handle it! He has many times before!…

Oh yeah, yup….he’s…alright…

Oh who am I kidding, he isn’t doing alright!

The truth is, Randy doesn’t like all the new changes he has seen ever since this all has happened. Nothing against NN and them, it’s just…too much!

At first, he was just slightly afraid of the change that he noticed was going on but now, he HATES it. He isn’t a fan of any of the changes at all! Not only that, but he has problems of his own that he hasn’t thought so much about until now.. such as his parents literally being divorced, for a good reason too: his now distant father.

But instead of telling anyone about this, he just kept it all to himself. Every single problem, every part of it, all kept inside of him. It’s unhealthy but the last thing he wanted was to involve anyone in his problems, no matter what. Even if it was his best friend, the kid, his own mother or any teacher at school, not even the psychologist teacher who is usually good with this sort of thing….. he doesn’t HAVE to tell anyone, he will be fine dealing with it on his own…

He was able to keep it all to himself just fine until one day, he finally lost it.

It happened at spirit week, yes. Spirit week. Randy started arguing at NN about how he didn’t like any of the changes that were happening, he was so stuck on it that not him or the kid noticed what was about to happen next….

Before they knew it, he was suddenly covered in both sap and feathers. Right in front of everybody.

It was caused by the new bully ‘Maria’ with her own friends who planned on doing a prank that was supposed to happen to NN but instead it got to him since he was in the way, she found it funny anyway and started laughing at him. Expect for her friends….and everyone else who was around to see it.

Howard got mad at her and so did Martin, they both yelled at the bully who only yelled back while NN was trying to check up on Randy who just stood silent through it all…

The bully said such hurtful words that was meant towards Randy this time….

And that. Was the last straw.

Soon, Randy was no longer just an ordinary guy…or even a ninja..

But a new first time ever stanked victim of the sorceress!

Stanked form! Oh Yea! The main boy is getting Stanked too!! (Man was he hard to draw like holy shit-)

A Komodo dragon. A big one. No, a HUGE one. Literally fucking like Godzilla.

Unlike the other stanked victims so far, this one is the most biggest threat EVER. Not just because of his humongous size but he is pretty much even harder to destank! This guy has lotta problems after all!

But even so, NN isn’t going to give up! They, along with Howard and Martin too, will try their best to go after him and help him then get to finally destank once and for all!…if only it was so easy.

Out of all the stanked monsters, this is the biggest challenge NN has ever had to face..

(The whole idea of this ‘afraid of change and such’ part of Randy’s own part of the story along with the whole stank form ideas and what lead to them with both him and Howard, and the bit of the field trip part where the Kitsune was ‘freed’, was all thought out by @artistic-harlom-world once again!!)

———-

Woooo! All done! Now I would have done some size comparisons and all but due to tumblrs rule about only having like 10 images per post on the ‘mobile version’ or whatever (no I don’t use mobile to be here, only iPad), I’ll just have to show yall a pic of the boys with NN and Martin all together instead! (Tried doing their right sizes and everything! Yes, Martin is slowly taller than Randy. Well he’s supposed to be, he’s kinda a pretty tall jock)

The main gangs all here!

Me after finally doing and finishing the boys who are the other two main mcs along side NN and Martin in the AU after so many days and months of not doing so until now:

Did I really had to make this meme just for this? Yes.

Was it worth it? Also yes.

Welp that’s it, hope y’all like how they look! I did my best as always!

[skinreflectsthesun]

,

[sunmoontruth-stiles]

I need a completely rewritten teen wolf series with Derek Hale as the main character. I think it would heal me.

[madamechrissy]

Do I wanna know?

Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count

CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!

You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.

It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.

Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.

When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.

That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.

He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.

He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.

But not just yet.

Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.

Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.

Satoru can do that for you.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Why live here?”

You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”

“Don’t you make good money?”

“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.

“Failed? Didn’t pass?”

“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”

“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.

Satoru can make it happen, surely.

“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.

“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be…” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”

“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”

“What’re you asking, sweets?”

“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.

What’s wrong with you!?

“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.

“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.

“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”

Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”

“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”

Oh, he does.

He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.

Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.

“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.

“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.

So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.

Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.

Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.

You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.

Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.

Or will be.

Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?

You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.

Satoru: No problem, love.

Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.

Satoru Gojo, who was he really?

*****

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.

“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.

You’re such a good girl.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.

“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”

“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”

“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.

“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”

“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”

You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”

“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”

“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”

“Absolutely.”

You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.

“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.

“I know.”

*****

Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.

Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”

Fuck.

You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”

“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.

Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.

All you can think of is him.

Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.

He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.

He needs you to really need him.

“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.

He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.

He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”

“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”

“Mind somewhere?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.

Where are you?

He zooms in on the location.

Someone’s house?

Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”

“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”

“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”

“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.

“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.

“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.

You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?

“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.

“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”

“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.

“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.

“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.

“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.

“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.

Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?

Then why is there this gnawing feeling?

*****

The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.

You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”

“It’s an ancient relic?”

“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”

“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”

“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.

“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.

Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.

“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.

“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.

“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.

“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.

“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.

“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.

“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”

“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.

Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.

“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.

“Why not date him?”

“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.

“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.

*****

After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.

You’re wondering about lots of things.

“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.

“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”

“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.

“What’s that mean?”

“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”

“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”

Yes, yes it would.

“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.

“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”

“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”

He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”

Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”

“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”

“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”

“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”

You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.

He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.

But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?

That just won’t do.

He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.

Maybe a date with someone?

******

You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.

He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.

He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”

How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.

“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”

You know he knows.

You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”

Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”

“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”

“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”

“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.

“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”

“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.

“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”

“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”

“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”

“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.

You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.

“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.

“Of course, Satoru.”

“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”

He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.

You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.

The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.

Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?

Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.

Having fun on your date?

Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.

Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.

Satoru panics now.

What’s wrong?

He watches as you type.

I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…

Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”

“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?

“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”

“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”

“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”

He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”

Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”

“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”

“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”

Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.

His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”

“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.

“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”

“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.

“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”

“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”

“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”

The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.

“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.

“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”

“My what!?”

“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.

“Where are we going?”

“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”

“Slutty?”

“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.

“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”

“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.

“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.

“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”

He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.

“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.

“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.

“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”

Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.

He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”

You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.

“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”

You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.

“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”

“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.

Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.

He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.

“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..

“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.

“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”

Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”

You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.

“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.

“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.

You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.

“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”

“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.

“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”

“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.

“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.

“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.

“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”

“You wouldn’t come to me.”

Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.

“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”

Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.

“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.

“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”

You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.

“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”

“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.

“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”

“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.

“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”

You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.

“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”

Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.

“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.

“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.

“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”

He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”

“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”

“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.

“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”

After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…

You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.

But you feel deliciously fucked out.

You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?

“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.

“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.

“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 

“That sounds so…”

“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’

“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”

“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”

“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”

You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”

“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.

“Satoru…”

“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”

“Satoru!”

“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”

“I… you…”

“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”

“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”

“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”

You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.

He’s got you right where he wants.

And you both know you’re never leaving.

Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)

Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut

[rs-hawk]

Going INSANE thinking about this post by @curiousmons :

So here we go!!

Your Centaur Boyfriend being embarrassed when he explains he’s never cum before because he can’t reach “down there”. You’re stunned and ask why he hasn’t told you before. You tell him you’d have at least given him a handjob before now so he could get some release! He sheepishly tells you that he almost didn’t tell you at all because he’s worried he won’t last long and he doesn’t want to disappoint you.

After a soft heart to heart session, you explain that even if he doesn’t last long, at least you’ll be doing it together so it’ll be wonderful. The kissing starts off slow and soft with him stooping down and you on your tiptoes. Then him pulling off your shirt, and you eagerly finishing undressing yourself when he hesitates. He eases you onto your back on the soft (but itchy, not that you’d tell him) hay he made into a bed for you. His front legs are tucked under him as he goes back to kissing you, pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly.

Despite never having been with anyone before, he knows that his massive cock would hurt you if you’re not prepped, which is another reason you two had waited for so long. Now you could easily take his fingers, and you were already soaking wet for him. His cock is so hard that he’s already leaking precum and it’s almost painful. He wants to be inside of you so badly.

“Please,” you whisper, breaking the kiss to look up at him.

He bites his lip before nodding slightly. He stands back up and you adjust, pushing yourself into doggy style so it’s easier for him to push into you. You have to help guide him a bit since you have to be so far under him, but as soon as the tip of his cock is pushed inside of you, he starts going crazy.

He jerks his hips towards you, nearly impaling you with his massive cock in one thrust. You yelp, not expecting that sudden and deep of a movement, but you don’t pull away.

“I’m sorry baby. You feel so good. I’m sorry,” he groans as he continues to slam in and out of you, driving you into the floor.

His cock slams deep inside of you, stretching you out in the most delicious way. He bullies your cervix in a way you never thought possible, his hot and slick precum already coating your womb. You whimper, trying to find something to hold onto. When you start to squirm, he uses his front hooves to keep you in place, setting them lightly on you, of course not his full weight, just so he can continue to cram himself into you.

Once he’s close, his thrusting becomes more sporadic. He thrusts roughly and sloppily, almost pulling out in his haste to push back inside of you. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, every thick inch of that cock stretching you out even more as he already was.

“You’re so good baby. So tight. So wet,” he whines, picking up the pace even more.

“Keep going,” is all you can manage to get out between the rough assaults on your body.

He complies until he crams himself as deeply as he can inside of you, pumping you full of hot, thick ropes of cum. You can feel it filling you, extending your stomach and spilling out onto your thighs and the floor under you even as he’s still deep inside of you.

His front legs tremble before he buckles them, pulling them off of you so he can support himself on them. You can hear his deep breathing and panting as he recovers, his cock still throbbing inside of you.

“That was amazing baby,” you sigh, almost dreamily, before you try to wiggle out from under him.

However, he’s already rutting into you, grinding his hips against yours with his cock still buried inside of you. “Just one more baby. Please please let me do it just one more time.”

[joelsgoldrush]

“crawl home to her” | 7.5k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.

A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well 👀 you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3

Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.

He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesn’t even bother to crack the window open—why would he?—before exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.

One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isn’t screwing him over—no older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.

Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but he’s also bored out of his mind. 

Where the hell are you?

He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.

His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.

But it’s not you. It’s one of his passengers.

We’re getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.

Logan can’t bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows he’s not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if he’s rooted in place with no way out.

Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.

He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say ‘No’.

All in all, he’s got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. He’s been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drink—but damn it.

He wants to talk to you.

You’d said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles and—

Okay, he’ll get back to that later. 

You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?

Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.

Logan: Got it.

The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesn’t care about being a messy fucker. He’ll deal with the mess some other time.

Priorities.

A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how ‘weird’ it smells in the limo.

With a grimace, he sprays a little more—floral, of all scents? It feels insulting.

How kind of him to still be this considerate.

His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasn’t had in years (thanks to you).

One, two, three rings, and then—

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like you’ve been hurrying all over the place.

He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.

Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.

You can’t see him, but he smiles either way. “Hey, baby.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I just—I felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.”

You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. “Please tell me you weren’t sleeping when I texted you.”

“Not even close. Still waiting for them.”

“They’re really taking their time, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. “How was your day?”

“Great! I’m already in bed.”

“My bed.”

You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. “Well, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if I’m at your place? On the floor?”

If someone had told Logan a year ago that he’d let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, he’d have scoffed. "Pathetic," he’d have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure he’d also puffed his chest while saying so.

Because Logan Howlett wasn’t one for accepting help. He’s been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.

But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it weren’t for your altruism, he wouldn’t have accepted this job—a job that pays well enough to cover Charles’ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich family’s money.

“You’ve got a girlfriend now?” Charles had asked, when Logan explained he’d be staying with you while he went away for a few days.

“Big word you’re using there,” Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charles’ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. “Don’t play dumb. It’s not like you don’t know the drill.”

Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then what is she?”

“A friend.”

“That’s nice. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. “Try not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?” he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words. 

And that’s when you drop the bombshell. “You mean like you did?” 

You laugh, but Logan… doesn’t. He can’t do it. He makes sure he’s breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out. 

The mention of love unsettles him. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, doesn’t know what game you’re playing. Where’s the rulebook?

Is he—could he be—falling in love with you? Is that what you’re implying? And if so, do you feel the same?

In the long run, you mumble: “It was a joke.” Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he can’t let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.

He promised himself he’d never hurt you. Though he doesn’t intend to, it feels as if he’s just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frame—unwillingly.

“Remember the—” he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. “The pills. You’ve been giving them to him, right?”

“Yes, Logan.”

“Please, remember it’s only—”

“Logan,” you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I have it under control, okay? He’s doing alright. I swear I’m taking good care of him.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. “Can’t help but worry. That’s all.”

A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.

“You said you’re sleepin’ on my bed.”

“Good memory you have.”

“You wearin’ my clothes as well?”

 Thick silence, the kind he relishes.

“Yeah,” you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: “I forgot to bring mine.”

He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.

“I don’t believe you.” He knows he shouldn’t, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. “Think you did it on purpose.”

A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.

Still, he craves more. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. “When did you turn into a horny teenager?”

“Always been, baby,” Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a moment—no cars, no one in sight. He’s presumably alone. It’s all the confirmation he needs to say: “C’mon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.”

He’s never done this before—phone sex. He’s heard about it, sure, but never imagined he’d fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.

What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.

“It’s just a random shirt,” you murmur. “Plain, white.”

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

Logan’s breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. “No panties? And you expect me t’believe this wasn’t planned?”

Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. “Why do you do this to me if you’re not here?”

“‘Cause I want you touchin’ yourself just like I’m doin’.” He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. “Bet that pussy’s been cryin’ out for me, huh? Must’ve got used to me fillin’ her every other night.”

Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. “I need you here with me. This is—ugh—not enough.”

“What’s not enough, sweetheart?”

There’s a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearly—the wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. “My fingers,” you blurt out, more distant than before, like you’re merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.

Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.

He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. “I spoil you too much,” he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to make yourself come.”

Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But it’s not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, because— “Want your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.”

He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. “Fuck, darlin’. You keep sayin’ those things and I swear I’ll be back with you by morning.”

His sole focus now is you—getting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, it’s the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. “Keep talking, please,” you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. “Tell me what you’ll do to me when you see me.”

Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. “Gonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, ‘cause I know my girl loves that, am I right?”

My girl. He’ll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.

Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though he’s surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his being—a storm in which your name is the eye of it all.

You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.

Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.

Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture. 

“Come for me, princess. You’d make me so h-happy if you came right now.”

And you do, because it’s not just his touch anymore—it’s his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How you’ve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.

Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he can’t see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.

He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.

Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.

Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.

So phone sex is off the list now. Great.

“Miss you, too,” he mumbles once he’s caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.

The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but that’s all he can force himself to spit out.

Sometimes, he forgets that you can’t read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but he’s at a loss for how. Words aren’t doable when he needs them the most.

Maybe it's a matter of age—you’re a natural at voicing your feelings.

At some point, you ask: “When did you say you were returning?”

One thing’s clear: he can’t afford to lose you. He’d be an idiot if he let that happen.

“In five days, I think.” Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“It’s okay,” you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. “I should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Thank you for everything. “Get some rest.” Are you still in love with me? “Bye.” I’m coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?

So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.

Exhaustion clings to him again.

His luck has never been this good.

The next afternoon, one of the couple’s kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.

Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!

What she doesn’t realize is that Logan, in fact, doesn’t know how children are, because how could he?

He’s holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds it—he’s not one for luxury, has never needed it.

Truth be told, he’s no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like they’re alive.

Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. He’s coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days he’s been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.

Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?

How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, he’ll be yours again?

He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.

He watches in the rearview as the kid’s father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Do you have kids?” he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like he’s trying to break the silence that’s settled between them. 

Logan’s only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song he’s never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but it’s enough to drown out the man’s words and the boy’s misery.

Some things never change.

As the sun dips below the horizon, he’s finally free, no longer at anyone’s beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.

Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.

When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesn’t honk, doesn’t announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.

His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.

Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long it’s been since he last ate.

Later, he tells himself. After. Once he’s sated his true hunger—the kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable. 

Hunger—yes, it’s animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once he’s near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.

His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.

It’s already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though he’s just woken from a long, ethereal dream.

He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position. 

A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isn’t his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.

It’s incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.

The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he can’t help himself.

His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that he’s here.

Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.

Welcome home, Logan.

For the first time, he feels that someone’s been counting down the minutes until his return. He’d always believed a person like him didn’t deserve this. That he just wasn’t built for it.

Countless years had he spent convincing himself he’d never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long ago—predetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.

Destiny, fate, call it what you want—once the cards are laid out, there’s no escaping them. Or so he used to think.

You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, he’d always be grateful. Grateful that you’d seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.

Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.

“Logan?” you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. “Why—how—”

“Sweetheart,” he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early!”

Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?

Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You could’ve told me,” you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. “I would’ve waited up for you at least.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.

You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”

The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. “I could use a human-size pillow.”

“I should shower first.”

“No.”

“Baby, I smell like gas.”

“So?”

A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.

Ten minutes later, you’re dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and there’s not a patch of skin between you left untouched.

Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: “I missed you.” His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.

You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. “Missed you, too.”

How the roles have reversed.

In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.

3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.

Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because he’s rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasn’t helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.

He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another shower—this time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.

His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.

When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.

“It’s nothing,” he says, pulse accelerating. Please, don’t look down. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“But what is—”

He doesn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.

“Wow.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“And leave you like this?” One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”

Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.

Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.

“Darlin’, I don’t—” He’s cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. “I don’t need this.”

“Seems like you do,” you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. “I want to take care of you. Always do.”

Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.

You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribs—a blood-pumping machine of passion—surges back to life as he sees you.

He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.

This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.

“You’re so hard,” you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. “Guess you did miss me.”

With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. “I’m not the only one who’s been missin’ someone.” He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. “Why am I not surprised?”

Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. “That’s what happens when you’re gone.” Another kiss on his nape. “You could take me with you next time.”

“Can’t do that,” he answers, teasing your entrance. “No work would get done.”

His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.

“You’re not goin’ back to sleep, are you?”

There’s the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: “Please.”

He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.

As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to what’s hanging from your neck.

His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you I’m coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadn’t expected you to actually wear them.

Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.

“You like ‘em?” His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Like knowing you’re mine? You get off on it?”

You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desire—a good lover, indeed. A decent one.

Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.

He may be older than you, but he’s always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.

The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.

With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.

When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside him—a deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.

At the end of the day, he’s a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.

Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocation—your body his last breath.

Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.

From where he lies, you’re a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. “Just what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you. You love makin’ your old man happy, don’t you?”

He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like this—raw, ungraceful.

His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it he’ll ever find.

“Shit, I…” you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. “I thought about you every day.”

“Bet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?” His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. “Can smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.”

You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.

He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Logan’s stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.

For a brief moment, he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.

Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes. 

“Remember what I told you that night over the phone?” he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. “Repeat it.”

“Logan—”

“You say it, and I’ll make it happen.”

Perplexity clouds your features. “You said you’d fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, because—”. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.

He’s home.

“Go on. What else did I say?” he teases, relishing in it. He’s guilty as sin. “Or were you too lost in thought touchin’ yourself?”

“F-face to face,” you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. “You said you’d do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”

He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.

Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. “None of that, princess. Look at me, c’mon.”

You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. “Logan,” you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.

The way you say his name—seductively, charged with a fascination that riles him up—manages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. It’s all the invitation he needs.

“I know. Too much, huh?” His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He can’t help it, though: it’s in very his nature. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.”

Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.

“Please,” you beg, voice breaking as you plead. “Fuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, please—”

Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He won’t pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.

The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.

Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.

He wonders if he’s ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. You’re given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breath—just his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.

He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.

So fuckin’ tight. Can y’hear her? How badly she needs me?

Sex had never felt like this before. He’d grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasn’t the best he’d ever know. 

For a while, he’d tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.

And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasn’t enough to push you away.

He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.

“Close?” he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. “Such a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.”

The constant, steady drag of his cock doesn’t seem to get old for you. He’s leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.

His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesn’t need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.

The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times he’s heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.

You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamed—like a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.

Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell.  It’s not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesn’t bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You haven’t changed your mind.

He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more.  He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.

Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesn’t need much to be happy.

You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet it’s true.

Even after he’s traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he can’t help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.

Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. You’re a dream come true.

It can’t end like this. He can’t allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.

“I think…” He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. “I don’t—”

“Logan,” you interrupt, your hand finding his. “I know.”

Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that can’t be enough. He can’t lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.

“You still deserve to hear it.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration. 

“You were right,” he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. It’s not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. “I’m in love with you.”

You scrutinize him as if he’s revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.

“It won’t get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?” He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. “This is what I am.” Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.

He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not with you because I’m waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.” A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. “Do they look good on me?”

“You don’t need them yet.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t pull them off.”

“Come here,” he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.

And so it gives you the chance to speak up: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

I hope I don’t, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

[leaderwonim]

❀﹐𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis: in which married couple park sunghoon and park y/n are on their way to court to divorce when they suddenly get into a car crash, losing their memories entirely. over time, they start to fall inlove with each other all over again.

genre: angst, exes to lovers + strangers to lovers (ynhoon are soulmates your honor!!) fluff

“You are the most immature person I have ever met!” You shout, “I should’ve never married you in the first place!”

“Finally, something we can both agree on.” Sunghoon seethes, and you just know the taxi driver is uncomfortable by the way he’s awkwardly looking in the car mirror.

The both of you crossed your arms stubbornly, huffing like little children who just threw a tantrum.

The only reason why you and Sunghoon were getting a divorce in the first place was because he was so busy at his office, inheriting the CEO position from his father just months earlier.

You felt lonely, and it really didn’t help that Sunghoon didn’t give you any reassurance because he was too tired.

“Aish, why is this red light taking so long?” Sunghoon angrily mumbles underneath his breath.

“Well maybe it’s your negative energy.”

“Can you be mature once in your life?” Sunghoon snaps back.

The taxi driver, very annoyed with the both of you, continues driving when the light turns green.

Then all of a sudden, a car rams through the intersection, crashing directly into the taxi.

You scream, and Sunghoon instantly puts his arms around your frame, shielding you.

Then, all goes black.

For a second, you could see the day that you and Sunghoon got married.

It was a Sunday, at the beautiful church nearby Sunghoon’s parents house, and you were wearing what Sunghoon called the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It was plain white, but long and so beautifully designed that it didn’t need any other colors.

When you arrived at the altar, Sunghoon had bursted into tears. Some of his friends, Jake, who had traveled all the way from Australia to attend, patted the boy on back as comfort.

That day was nonetheless the happiest day of your life. You don’t know if Sunghoon feels the same, and looking back, it feels like such a shame that you’re throwing it all down the drain.

❀﹐

BLEEP. BLEEP.

Your body jolts awake, head practically killing you with the amount of ache it produced as you tried to sit up.

“Patient is up!” The nurse says before walking into your room with a tray. “Good morning, are you feeling okay?”

You raise your hands to touch your head, which was bandaged by some soft tissue material.

“Where am I?” You say, looking around the room. You spot a unknown man groggily getting up, and for a second, you can’t help but notice how handsome he was.

That was besides the point, though.

“You’re in the hospital.” The nurse says, smiling softly. “Do you remember the events leading up to this?”

“I.. I don’t remember anything, actually.”

The nurse still smiles at you reassuringly. “It’s alright lovebug, it seems as though you two have lost your memories.”

“Us two?” You question.

“Yes.” She points to the guy on the other bed right next to you who just looked like he woke up from death. He too looked badly injured like you, having a broken hand and bandage around his head. “Park Sunghoon-ssi was in the same car as you and got injured as well.”

Park Sunghoon. Why did that name sound so familiar?

“Well since you're both awake," she said, relief evident in her voice. "You've been in an accident. Do you remember anything Sunghoon-ssi?”

Sunghoon shook his head slowly. "No... I don't remember anything."

The nurse nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “It's not uncommon for victims to lose their memories after a traumatic accident. Memory loss can be temporary. Just focus on resting for now.”

The nurse leaves the room, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

“She said we were in the same car together,” you say slowly. “But I really can’t remember what you are to me.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Me either. All I remember vividly is my parents. You must’ve been an acquaintance of mine, then.”

You nod, stretching your limbs. “You got more injured than me.”

He lets out an airy chuckle, lifting his broken arm which was in a cast into the air. “Yep, broken arm.”

You want to remember so badly what had happened leading up to all of this. What were you doing? Where were you going, and why were you with this Park Sunghoon guy in the first place?

“What did you get for breakfast?”

Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you, and you slowly look down at the tray in front of your bed.

“Uh, the nurse got me tiramisu and oatmeal.”

“Tiramisu?” Sunghoon’s mood automatically brightens up. “Can we please switch sweets? I really love tiramisu.”

You laugh at his childlike behavior, but nod anyway. “I’ll bring it to you Sunghoon, wait.”

You don’t know why, but it feels so right saying his name. Sunghoon must’ve felt the same way, because he swore his mouth went dry at you calling out his name.

You carefully make your way out your hospital bed, making sure not to accidentally detach any monitors that were attached to you. Grabbing the tiramisu cup, you make your way over to Sunghoon, who’s already shaking in excitement.

Then you make your way back, opening the lid of your oatmeal bowl.

“I may not know what happened in the accident,” Sunghoon says. “But I know this tiramisu is so fucking good.”

You shake your head, laughing at his words. “Yah Sunghoon, you think we were best friends before all of this?”

“Maybe.” He mutters, the mascarpone cheese of the tiramisu leaving a mark on the side of his lips.

“Well our humor is alike.” You say. “Would explain why we were in the same car together. Maybe we were going out to lunch.”

The rest of the day was spent with Sunghoon and you cracking jokes then and there, the awkwardness of the two of you being strangers quickly faded.

❀﹐

The next day, you were given tiramisu once again while Sunghoon was given cookies.

You descended from your bed, once again, and gave the tiramisu cup to Sunghoon while you grabbed his bag of cookies.

“You know what’s funny?” You say, biting into the warm chocolate chip cookie.

“What?” He says, although it’s muffled from the amount of tiramisu he’s stuffed into his mouth.

“Yah, you gotta stop doing that, it’s gross.”

Sunghoon sticks his tongue out at you, which makes you giggle.

“We’re both Parks, isn’t that funny?”

“Huh,” Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a brief second. “Park Sunghoon and Park Y/N. That is funny.”

Maybe both of your humors are broken because you hit your head too hard during the crash, but even though you were at the hospital, you’re glad you have someone like Sunghoon to keep you company.

“Do you want to watch the stars with me tonight at the balcony?” You ask the boy, who nods softly.

“I’d love to, actually.”

And that’s what the two of you did. By the time it hit 10pm, you two tiptoed out to the balcony, making sure to not let any of the night nurses see you.

“Whoaaa, it’s beautiful.” Sunghoon says, letting his broken arm lean against the railing. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

You smile, leaning your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

“Sunghoon.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sure what we were before the accident,” you stop for a second. “But I’m glad we knew each other.”

Sunghoon turns his head to look down at your face, his expression morphed into a genuine smile. “I’m glad we knew each other too Y/N.”

That night, you slept the most compared to the other nights at the hospital. In your dreams, you see Sunghoon—only instead of being at the hospital bed right beside you, he’s in the kitchen, wearing a black suit.

“You look nice today.”

“Thank you baby.” Sunghoon leans down to give you a kiss on the lips. “Is that tiramisu?”

You nod, your eyes full of love. “Of course, you’ve been working so hard so I decided to make your favorite.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, letting the two of you swing back and forth slowly. “Thank you my love, I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.”

You woke up in a cold sweat, the dream feeling all too real.

“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon says, and you swore your heart almost leaped out of your chest, not expecting the brunette boy to be awake.

“It’s 2am, why are you even awake?” You say croakily, hands coming to rub your tired eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs. “Hey, I had a really weird dream just now.”

“Me too.” You say, “you were in it.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t further question it. “You were a lawyer in my dream, you just graduated from Seoul University. We bought a house, and you told me you wanted to continue with your career.”

At least his dream was somewhat normal, you think. I can’t just tell him I dreamt of us being together and being all lovey dovey. He’d be thrown into a coma!

“Ah, mine was similar.”

Nice save Y/N.

Sunghoon suddenly gets up from his bed, deciding to sit at the dining table the nurses had brought out for the two of you yesterday night.

“Come sit with me.”

You slowly creep out of your bed, sitting on the empty seat next to Sunghoon.

Suddenly, you’re hit with a sudden pounding headache.

“You’re the worst, Sunghoon!” You scream on the top of your lungs, “I hate you! I hate you!”

“Stop screaming!” He grabs your arms gently, eyes directly looking into yours. “Y/N-ah, stop it.”

“So I’m Y/N to you now?” Your voice breaks. “No more baby or love? Am I just another person to you Sunghoon?”

“Of course not, why would you say that?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep inhale. “Let’s just talk about this calmly, okay?”

“What’s there to talk about? You are never home, you’re always cooped up in your office! We might as well get a divorce!”

Sunghoon’s hold on your shoulder makes you snap out of your daze.

“Hey, you okay?” He says concernedly, “you were breathing heavily.”

“What?” You gasp. “Yeah—yeah, I’m okay. I just think I had a flashback.”

“Really? What was it?”

You don’t want to tell Sunghoon that it was the two of you fighting. Why did you even mention divorcing in the flashback? Were you and Sunghoon something more than just friends?

“Just the crash.” You say. You want to tell him the truth, you really do, but you’re not sure if these were hallucinations from how hard your head was hit during the trauma or if they were actual flashbacks.

“Well, I’m here.” Sunghoon whispers reassuringly. “I’ll always be here. We survived a car crash together anyway, we’re kinda bonded to each other.”

You laugh, smacking him on his shoulder softly. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.”

❀﹐

“Do you remember what your passion was before all of this?” Sunghoon asks, peeling his orange with his injured hand.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, “l think I really would’ve liked becoming a mother. I love kids, the thought of them makes me happy.”

“I think you would be a great mother.” Sunghoon says quietly. “Even though we don’t know each other much, I can tell you’re loving.”

You look down at your lap, trying to suppress the bright smile forming at the corner of your lips.

“Thanks Hoonie.”

“Hoonie?”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry! Did I make you uncomfortable? I should’ve not—”

“It’s okay Y/N,” he chuckles. “It’s fine. I like it.”

You can’t help but laugh along with him. “Okay.”

The next few days go by quickly, with you and Sunghoon already warming up to each other.

You were both comfortable enough to speak your thoughts freely around one another, no matter how silly or ridiculous some of them seemed.

When the nurses brought you two breakfast, Sunghoon almost dropped his fork in shock.

“They gave me tiramisu.” He says, eyes glistening with joy. “They finally gave me tiramisu.”

“I don’t know why you’re so excited.” You snicker jokingly. “You’ve been eating my tiramisu this entire week.”

He turns around to look at your tray, which had a bag of snickerdoodle cookies on it.

With shaking limbs, he makes his way over, handing the tiramisu cup to you and swapping it with your cookies.

“I thought you hated snickerdoodle cookies, Hoon?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“I do.” He admits. “But you’ve given me your tiramisu all week, I wanted you to have mine this time.”

Your heart swells at that, and you point your spoon at him accusingly.

“Yah, is this because you want my chocolate pudding at dinner?” You joke.

“Pffft, what? Nooo.” He quickly defends himself. “But if you’re willing to share—”

“Shut up Park Sunghoon!”

“Yes ma’am!”

❀﹐

You don’t know why, but you’re starting to feel giddy whenever you talk with Sunghoon.

Your palms does this thing where it sweats profusely, and your tongue feels like dried sandpaper.

There’s no way you like Park Sunghoon, right? You’ve barely known the guy for two weeks, so why was the heart racing at the thought of him?

“I’ve convinced the nurses to get us two bottles of coca cola,” Sunghoon says, practically jumping up and down as he entered the room.

“Really? Out of all the drinks you could’ve persuaded them to get us, you got us coke.”

“Don’t diss Coca Cola like that!” Sunghoon says, crossing his arms.

Just like Sunghoon had said, the nurse approaches the two of you an hour later, 2 bottles of coca cola in her hands. She hands one to Sunghoon, then to you.

"Enjoy." She says, smile reaching her eyes.

Sunghoon's eyes light up when he opens the bottle and takes a sip. "Ah, for some reason, this feels so nostalgic."

A little memory pops up in his head, one of him playing at the park with his mom and younger sister.

"Sunghoon-oppa! Mom says she brought us coca cola!" The young girl, Yeji, says. "C'mon! Come with me!"

The young Park Sunghoon lets his younger sister take his hand, running towards their mom who was on the other side of the park.

"What's wrong Sunghoon-ssi?" You ask, noticing how his thick eyebrows were furrowed and his grip on the bottle had tightened.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out for a bit."

He chuckles nervously, glancing around the room. "Sorry, I think I just had a flashback." He says. "Park Yeji."

"Who?"

"My younger sister." He explains. "I could see her clearly. I wonder where she is right now."

You too wondered where your family was. Maybe they were too busy to come visit you. You could briefly remember having a younger brother. Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.

"Cheers." He says, mood changing quickly. His canines shined brightly as he smiled, making him look all too gorgeous in your eyes. "To the car crash, for bringing me and Park Y/N together."

You giggle, raising your bottle in the air. "Cheers to the car crash, for bonding me with this weird guy named Sunghoon."

"Yah!"

❀﹐

"Is it weird?"

"Hm?"

It's 11pm, and you and Sunghoon face each other as you're both laying on opposite ends of the room.

"That we've known each other for only a few weeks and I already feel like I've known you for an entire lifetime?"

You smile at his words, shaking your head. "No, I feel the same way Hoonie."

"Would it be stupid to say out loud how much I want to kiss you right now?"

Your mouth almost drops at his boldness, but you quickly shake your head.

Sunghoon takes your silence as approval, sitting up to come over to your side.

He brushes the hair away from your face, leaning in to close the gap between your lips.

When the both of you pull away, you automatically lean in again, the feel of his lips on yours felt so right.

"I love you Sunghoon." You say as you cup his cheeks. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"I know," he whispers. "I love you. Cause even though we were both going down, we were going down together."

"I hate you." You say, a smile playing on your face. "I hate you for being the only person who I can't stay mad at."

"And I love you," he says. "For being there for me, always."

"Sunghoon."

"Hm?"

"I love you."

He smiles down at you, uninjured hand coming to hold yours. "I love you too."

❀﹐

"What?" You say flabbergasted.

The next morning was the date of both yours and Sunghoon's discharge, and both your families decided to come visit.

"You two were married." Your father explains, a bewildered expression on his face. "How could you not know? Was the Park Y/N not obvious?"

"I thought that was just my last name!" You say, defending yourself.

"Your last name is Yang, noona." Your little brother speaks up. It was Jungwon, the same boy you kept seeing in your flashbacks, only this time, his face looks more clear and matured. "It was before you married Sunghoon-hyung."

"You're telling me we got married and divorced?" Sunghoon says, stuttering over his own words.

"Yes son," Sunghoon's mother explains. "Well, not quite exactly. We don't know why you guys wanted to divorce, you kind of shut yourselves out when you were arguing. You didn't officially divorce yet, you got into an accident on the way to court."

That made so much sense now. The flashbacks of arguments between you and Sunghoon, the makeups after the arguments, the cute moments, everything. It started to all click in your head.

"You still share houses and everything, the lawyers had to put your case on hold because you were both hospitalized." Jungwon says. "We were here to pick you up separately, in case you weren't comfortable staying with each other."

"It's fine." You and Sunghoon both say at the same time.

"Are you sure honey?" Sunghoon's mom asks concernedly.

"Yes mom, I'm sure."

The drive home was awkward, you both drove in different cars but to the home you had bought before the accident happened.

"Noona," Jungwon calls out to you. Your parents are still in the car, looking at the scene in front of them.

"Yes Jungwon?"

"Listen, I may not know a lot about love," he says, "but I know what you and Sunghoon-hyung have is real. I could still see somewhere in his eyes that he remembers parts of you and he still loves you whether or not his memories came back or not. I could tell you love him too. I don't know why the two of you decided to divorce but I know you called me crying hysterically because of it. I just think you two needed to talk it out, without the lawyers, without the paperwork. You two are the two most stubborn people I know, but also the two most loving people I know, you wouldn't just leave each other like that."

You want to cry at your younger brother's words, tears already leaking from your eyes. "Thank you Won."

You reach your arms out to hug him, a hug that he instantly melts into. "I love you noona."

"I love you too."

❀﹐

"This isn't what we expected, huh?" Sunghoon says, leaning his head on the marble island in the middle of your kitchen. "This whole time I thought you were my best friend, turns out you were my soon to be ex-wife."

You laugh quietly at the irony of the whole situation. "Whatever we were in the past is in the past Hoon."

He nods. "I can't believe we were going to divorce."

"I can't believe it either."

"You know what my mom told me in the car?" Sunghoon sits up straight to look at you. "The reason I have a broken arm and you don't was because during the crash, I put my arms around yours to protect you. Isn't that funny? Even though we hated each other at that moment, my first instinct was to protect you."

You stay still at that, his words sinking into your brain.

"It's like the universe wanted us to be together." You say quietly.

"Hey Y/N?"

You turn around to face Sunghoon. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad I married you."

Even though you and Sunghoon aren't sure where you stand in terms of relationship, all you know is that you love him, and that is enough for the both of you.