#that should NOT be just how they are!!!!!!! >:O

[tonycries]

D!LFMAS?!

Synopsis. Father Christmas? Nah, who needs him when you can have a hot D!LFY Christmas.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, older! D!LF! JJK men, bréeding, CREAMP!ES, age gaps, dad bods, manhandIing, cúmplay, chokíng, professor! Geto, GOJO’S POWERS, true form Sukuna, dp, cervíx kíssing, p talking, p slápping, JEALOUSY (Geto), spítting, headIocks, SIZE K!NK, thigh ríding, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Well THIS opened up something I never knew before…

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - White Christmas

“Heh…how cute.” Toji’s scarred lips are puckering up into a coo at just how adorable you looked squirming underneath him like this. “Ya ready for a biiig stretch, ma?”

You’re craning a few uselessly coy smacks against his bulging biceps, ”T-Toooji—” The whines dripping from your salacious lips are just pitiful - and so is that tiny gasp let off when his heavy, blushing tip comes thwacking! down punishingly to make out with your slippery slit. “Stop teasing me…”

“Ohhh?” Dark brows raise at your babbling, “And hah- who was talking to you, my doll?”

He’s curving the fat pad of his thumb down either side of your saturated lips, wrenching out the soppiest slurps. Up, up, up until Toji’s pinching your buttony nub with an oh-so-dramatic sigh - but not targeted at you. No - at down below. “I know, right? Got a hah- real nasty girl.” He’s nodding along languidly, thoroughly in conversation between your trembly thighs. “How m’ I gonna make her a pretty momma if I don’t…teach her a lesson about talkin’ back to elders.”

God, you could almost sob. It’s been hours upon hours now. You had no idea how he still had so much stamina being older than you, but…but did you really want to complain?

Hours since you’d finished your babysitting job and tucked Megumi to bed. Pacing your familiar way up to Toji’s bedroom in a way that was entirely unprofessional. 

Hours of being pinned to the satiny mattress with the effortlessly staggering size of Toji, all hefty muscles and washboard abs that he still maintained proudly. Slipping and glissading their sultry way to scratch his fleecy chest hair down your perfectly arched back. 

Hours that still had you all desperate. Needy. 

Squeezing out a few pearly tears to lacquer the ends of your lashes in a way you knew that Toji was absolutely weak for. “P-please- jus’ want you ngh! a-all—” Rovering down a hand across the lamination of creamy cum that puddled out of your sappy entrance, your trembly digits are absolutely drenched in the overflooded remnants of cum that your gummy walls were topped up from before. “-inside me, Toji.”

And oh was he weak.

Hell, it’s like he’s melting into you from above. 

One beefy arm of his branding the curvaceous flex of his biceps around your waist. Rotund curves of his strong knees weakening, smearing further and further apart on the dampened sheets to plug you full with the globular crown of his thick cockhead. 

Eyes creasing to widen, Toji’s swiping a thick drag down your buttery walls with a syrupy pop! Followed mercilessly by a sudden slap! down the snug orifice of your sweet, sweet slit. 

Your sloppy sounds resonate against the walls sound-proofed especially for you.

“Evil young lady. We should discuss…wh-what do you think, mama?” He’s gruffing out hoarsely at your drooling cunt - and you swear you could hear his baritone lilt a few octaves higher at the sight. You swear you could hear his shatter into a whimper- “Y-you’re fuckin’ lucky, this cunt o’ yours is so hngh- damn persuasive.”

He was so good at making you embarrassed - sinking in solid inch by inch until you were utterly bruised by the sodden French kiss of his smooth tip down your cervix. Hot and hefty. Steamy gumdrops of vicious pre gliding down your throbbing g-spot.. 

Toji plants your goopy depths with a harsh battering ram. The swollen cylindrical shaft of his rummaging into you so deep - he was so fucking massive. And you think you’d never get used to it.

“Look at you milkin’ a cock you said was heh- too big. M’proud of ya.” He presses a few innocent pecks down the side of your prespired forehead, “But I’m not like those wimpy fuckin’ boys you’ve dated before, ma.” 

Fuck. You’re being headlocked with one of his big, beefy arms - jerking your stupidly lolling head up to his. He only got so much stronger with age. 

Toji’s spitting out through sexily clenched teeth - through a smile so fucking feral that it makes you pulse. “I’m n-not gonna go ngh- fuckin’ easy on ya jus cos’ you’re a little…cute.” Toji’s foraging for the elastic door to your womb, skimming his palm for that inflationary bump outlined underneath your pretty tummy. “I’m not stopping until we’re givin’ Megs a sweet lil’ sibling.’”

Pap! Pap! Pap! He’s pressurizing his thrusts with years of power, handling you easily like a ragdoll underneath him. Glomping around thick ivory tresses of seed from hours before - the squelches play out like a song to him.

“Ohhh? What’s that? Ya sure?” Toji’s eyes crinkle with sheer joy, shaggy dark bangs sticking to his forehead and showing off stray strands of silver. “Ya hear that? She said she’s gonna give me a daughter.”

He’s driving you wild. Stupid. 

“Hmm- nothing to say?” You’re hearing low titters pierce in cloudy little pants against your ear. Intoxicating. And beady droplets of sweat spatter your shoulder as Toji looms dangerously closer. “Listen to this-” SMACK! Another mean swat on your cunt. And a second. A third. Fourth- “Y-you’re still lettin’ his filthy pussy talk for ya? Lazy girl.”

Every heated pound had your pussy slewing out the most sinful squelches and then some. Watery slurps so loud that you’re struggling to mumble out over it, “S-s’not my fault— you’re just so…so…”

“Say it.” Toji’s huffing out. 

And the bed raptures with splitting creaks when he’s hiking a powerful thigh to plant firmly on the plushy mattress - gyrating his hips impossibly deeper. Hauling your bawling pussy into his bashing collides against those spots, rubbing your inner walls with his thumping veins. “C’mon, mama, use your big girl words. Aren’tcha embarrassed to be haaah- fucked so dumb by this old man?”

And he already knew that that would be all it took for your tongue to string together its first few coherent syllables. A pitchy little, “N-not- ngh- not my fault you’re so…good.”

The only thing on your mind - the only thing you can chant like a mantra when your orgasm invades you over with surprise.

The very moment those broken sounds taper off from your slack maw, you’re seeing white. Stars bursting behind your lids, when Toji’s ruddied, split tip crashes into your tenderized magical spots. Again. And again. And again and again-

“Good?” Toji echoes. Head tilting to nuzzle yours, he’s snarling his pearly canines into the apples of your cheeks and biting. “A-all that- n’ all ya hafta say is “good”? D-don’t even deserve- this-” 

You’re garbling out between each punctuating pound, rivulets of saliva spilling from between your lips. “No- no no no- please inside. I wan’ it- want it all—”

You can’t see him through that clingy glaze of lust in your eyes, but he’s rolling his eyes. Huffing out a growling, “Then you better not ah- waste a single drop. Wan’ everyyyyy ah- leering loser to know who did this.”

You’re being absolutely flooded with the thickly vicious dumps of Toji’s cum - and he always had so much to give. Sweltering hot. Sloshing around voluminous dredges that splatter down your thighs, it’s like a sticky second skin. Lathering his thick fingers in a milky sheen when he’s bullying every leaking ounce back through your bloated pussy lips. Making an even bigger mess-

And the sight only makes Toji grin, “G’nna be a real white Christmas this year, huh? A real sweet one with you, me, Megs…n’ our daughter, heh.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Santa, tell me…

“Gonna take care of you, my love” Nanami’s rich, sugar-coated tone cracks at the very end. And you can only watch as his jostled prescription glasses fog up, as his stern lower lip trembles. Smearing a wet smooch over your glossy folds once more, “Suuuch g-good care of ya.”

And he was parched. It didn’t matter how many copiously innumerable times that he’d had you before, your husband was addicted to making out with your weepy cunt. 

Plumped lips illuminated by the cozy crackle of the fireplace in your bedroom. He’s wrapping them snugly around the buttony hood of your overstimulated clit to hollow his cheeks and suck. Boring that greedily half-lidded gaze right up at you with every full French kiss.  

Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Thick fingers fisting his angrily hard cock and squeezing out a few milky smudges of pre just from tasting his dear wife’s cunt. Nanami’s blocking that seething red divot right at the very end with one of his thumbs to keep himself from cumming-

God. 

He really was going to be the end of you. 

There’s such a clingy film of your sweet sweet pussy glaze glistening across the handsome lower half of his face. Slipping and sliding wet splotches down your wrist when you’re grabbing your husband by the scruff of his silvery blond locks and dragging him upwards. 

Gruffing out a pained keen- “Darlin’, your cute cunt i-isn’t ready yet-”

He was addicted - wanted more.

“I need you, Kento–” Your fingers dabble their way to trek and encircle the broad planes of his sculptured shoulders. Nanami was hot - burning. Condensing out fevered pants as he hung onto your every word. “S’okay if you’re a little…rough.”

And oh. Oh, you were sincerely wrong - you were going to be the death of him.

Because Nanami’s lazily sliding his strawberry pink tongue to lap at the honeyed glaze of your slick on his lips. A few fingers - including the one with that gorgeous golden wedding band of his - drag across your chin to pry out your lolling tongue and suck. Tasting yourself. 

“Always so impatient.” he’s tutting, always so careful. So concerned over you, especially since you’d had your two daughters. But Nanami Kento would never say no to his wife - never say no to you. Never has. Never will. “Rough, huh? Y-ya sure you can handle it? Don’t wanna…break you, honey.”

“Y-you won’t–” you’re huffing, trembly thighs enraptured around his soft waist. 

The years had done Nanami well, and you couldn’t kick off that comically red Santa coat and hat off of him fast enough - still on after surprising your young kids with it earlier today. You could only gape at the way his hard muscles had tenderized into a dad body that was so plump. So strong. So sexy. 

Squealing when his fattened pink head thwacks! right down the treacly middle of your sopping lips. Thumbing in a thick fingerpad until he’s fully and thoroughly inspecting your gooey hole, “Such a cute cunt, g’nna break her with my ah- cock, my love.”

And ah how he secretly loved whenever you’d whine those pretty pleas at him that way. Lips cutely pouted out until he chuckles with a dark, “Haaaah- arch that back a little more f’me, my wife.”

Calloused mountains of his palms massage your perfectly curvaceous spine to help your slobbery pussy swallow down every sopping swab of his globular tip at your gummy insides. Trickling out wet drizzles of intoxicating creamy pre at your doughy cervix.

Oh, this. 

This stretch had your mind filled with only cottony buzzing, maw slacking eagerly to beg out needily for more more more-

“Yeahh that’s it- F-fuuuck-” Nanami’s sweat-glistened skin wrinkles as he’s letting his head tumble backwards, glassy eyes sprinting to the very back of his lids. “Yeahh? You’re my b-big girl, right? Mhm- then take- it- like one-”

And shit, you did - you always did. And Nanami thinks he feels himself falling in love all over again. 

Planting a purposefully sappy little smack! right on the fleshy peek of your clit to make your knees weaken. It’s so unfairly attractive the way he’s shrugging off the rest of that costume Santa coat to leverage that lecherous little advantage and drag your jittery legs on top of his strong deltoids. “S’gonna m-make it easier. Trust me.”

So powerful. You’re being manhandled like a fucking doll - and treated just like one, too. 

Tawny happy trail massaging your oh-so-aqueously driveling slit, Nanami’s round tummy presses into you as he pins you hopelessly down, down, down into such a mean mating press. He’s pressing an innocent kiss to your ankles, pounding in a way so angular that it makes you halfway scream-

THUD!

“Shhhhh shh shh…hush a little, honey.” You’re blinking up through tear-clinged lashes at that attractive dimple cratering its way onto the very edge of your husband’s smile lines. Sweat-glossed forehead bumping sweetly into yours, “You’re gonna wake the ngh- girls up. And right now I…”

He’s trailing off - losing himself and his sanity into the way your mushy walls were swirling all around him. Every sploshing dab of his plumply swollen crownhead cuddling your bruised g-spot. Heavy, cum-filled balls stinging a permanent bruise against the curve of your ass, his massive arms around your legs.

But not just outside. No, Nanami was marking a thick circumference so deep into your spongy cervix - and even the recoil, even every singular bounce back of his rotund shaft away from your gluey depths had him hissing.  

“I- I need…” 

Fuck, the pure need and fatigue is radiating off of him in desperate waves. Contagious. Your only option is to lock your ankles more vice-like around his slightly overgrown undercut and take it when Nanami streams out a melty wad of spit right onto your tastebuds.

Ah, and then you’re swallowing. Letting him kiss away the translucent splatters of remnants near the corner of your mouth - and ah, Nanami’s so in love. 

He’s clasping one set of fingers to design unintelligible I love you’s on your plummy clit, the other intertwining with your left hand to leave a pretty peck right on your matching wedding ring. “-I need you…all to myself right now.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - A++

“Now now, let’s see…question four wrong-”

“Sugu-”

“-question five, only two marks-”

“Sugu–”

“-question six. Skipped.”

“Suguru.”

And oh, how much Professor Geto Suguru was having fun with this. 

With you - his favorite TA from the Biology 101 course - and your utterly messy thighs draped over one of his muscular ones, precarious fingers nimbling to clutch onto his pristine vest. Begging, pleading with every bat of your trembly lashes. 

You’re glomping his fleshy mounds of skin with your drooling cunt, laminating every bump and muscle with a dripping slide of velveteen slick after every lewd grind. “P-please….sir– jus’ wan’ your cock already.”

Needy. 

“How crude.” Geto’s pushing his reading glasses up his regal nose-bridge, pretty pink lips coming up into a snarl that only makes your teary cunt throb even harder. Your own exam papers being flicked onto his office desk in front of him, he’s twiddling his thumbs along the flimsy hem of your skirt. “And for those appalling answers, three more minutes.” 

Whining, “But-”

“Did I stutter?” Antique metallic wristwatch so bone-chillingly cold when he’s snugly wrapping his fingers around your tender throat. Tight. Softly bouncing his knee - and you with it, “Can’t even handle ridin’ my thigh - how are ya gonna handle my cock, gorgeous?”

And it might have been three minutes - it might have been hours - until Geto Suguru finally found a correct answer on your tough finals paper. Finally found something he was satisfied with enough to slam! you bent over onto the sleek mahogany of his desk and stuffed stupidly full-

“Tch- look at what a mess you made~” he’s sighing out, breathing hot promises down into your ear in a way that makes your glutinous walls cling like adhesive onto his angry, throbbing shaft to milk him even harder. “Slobberin’ all down my thighs- how are you gonna hah- make up for it, huh?”

“I don’t- I don’t know–” You can barely even think. Jumbling out messily slurring syllables of Geto’s name with every sodden pap! pap! pap! 

SMACK!

Geto’s long, merciless digits swat your gulping entrance with a mean smack. Brimming his soft fingertips over the raised imprints, he’s throating out, “What do you know, hm? Anythin’ else in that pretty head of yours other than hah- wearin’ the s-sluttiest skirts possible to my class?”

Oh. That makes you whirl your head up with a guilty whimper, “Wh-what do you- ah!”

He might be hold but Geto wasn’t the least bit nicer.  

Surprising you with yet another thwack of his hand on your ass, and a few more copious loads of glossy precum unloaded onto your doughy cervix. “Exactly what I said…” And he’s dragging you down with one roughened hand latched onto your neck, sullying your slobbery pussy with a fat drag down your g-spot. “Those fuckin’ skirts- so tiny and thin. Can see your fucking panties from my d-desk. Tell me- who are ya wearin’ those hah- for.”

Shit - his dewey eyes are dripping over to one right there tattered on the floor. 

Gasping, heaving, hunching over to pin your squirming body down hard onto the slippery platform.

Geto Suguru was so big. Pudgy abs skating down your back, slinking you into a trail of soft tufts of black-

“S’it for that ah- loser fuckin’ boy ya s-sit next to?” He’s spitting, tumbling out condensely from his lips. Mature eyes creasing as his gold-rimmed glasses slip. “Or for that flirty fuuuuck- group p-partner of yours…o-or…” And you can only gulp - you can only keen when he’s letharging his vicious hips just enough to keep pressing a hard probe into your mushy g-spot. Holding it still. “-for me, gorgeous?”

Who else would it be for? Professor Geto was the tattooed, unattainable eye-candy of the entire student and teacher population. Well…almost unattainable. 

And you make it known - you’re curving your back so malleably into Geto’s hold. Letting his sweat-soaked undershirt drag down your arched spine. Heartbeat pumping like a drumbeat in your ear with every sodden thwack! of his globular cockhead.

Jaw slacking pathetically open to whine, “Y-you—” Shit- how dangerous. Those cutely slutty noises of yours are such a threat that he’s pumping your mouthy orifice with a few ringed fingers, “O-only for you, sir.”

Yeah, real dangerous.

“Well then…” Geto’s forced to take a second - two - to gather his wits, his sheerly melty brain enough to grin a sleazy grin. “-how about I give ya l-little lesson, young lady.” Smack! Smack! Smack! into the goopy soft spots of your cunt. With his free hand, he’s swiping away the slightly grey-streaked locks of long inky hair. Serious. “About how a real man fucks.”

And he’s fucking you like he hated you - like he was trying to meld you into the littering exam documents on the desk that you’d so absolutely flubbed. 

“O-oh my god, Suguru—” Your tongue’s lolling out openly, pupils flying in criss-crossed little patterns even he’s hitting your poorly bruised g-spot again. And again. And again and- “Feels s-so good- m’not gonna last long.”

But ah your mistakes on the exam might have been…on purpose - but the way that you’re scrambling your trembly hands down to mindlessly smear your saturated pussy flaps further open - to try and greedily swallow up even more past his hefty hilt - was definitely not. 

“Ah ah- none of that.” Geto’s tutting, your hands being swatted away by one of his much larger ones. Staggering fingers plugging your bulging pussy lips with a slowly drawling line from the edge of his thumb. Pulling out - just for a sloppy split-second - to slap his fatly swollen head on your gloopy slit - before bullying your sappy entrance doubly full with both his pulpy length and his swirling digits. 

“Move that fuckin’ hand, gorgeous, n’ stop being hahh- shy around ol’ Professor Sugu, hm? If ya want more-” You can’t run away - you can’t even try when he’s hiking up one powerful thigh onto the desk to drag you into every squelching slam! Every rut - you’re reeled in. Deeper and deeper. Strong, dexterous fingers curving to press into your forbidden magic spots. “-then just heh- raise your hand n’ ask. Any questions?”

Glomping out a sweltering hot rope of precum when you actually do - hand trembling, piping up a small, desperate. “Can- can I have it…inside, sir?”

Oh, you’re being positively crushed by his broad planes of muscles. Hot. Feverish. Geto’s only pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “F-for my hngh- valedictorian- of course.”

And when you’re crashing into your high, Geto’s holding you so tight. Riotous hips fucking you through each and every dizzying wave of your orgasm, making you see stars-

“Get ready, girl.” You can hear - but with the black tinging the edges of your vision, you can barely see. “Bet no other boy has f-fucked ya like this, huh?” At your delirious headshakes - shit, do you even realize what you’re doing right now? He was fucking you so dumb. “Gonna cum- gonna fill ya up so hard ‘ntil those wimps know to stay back from…my girl.”

Then you feel like you’re bursting, your elastic walls tugging tautly to their limits when Geto’s pumping out torrential heaps upon heaps of thick, creamy seed. Sloshing around your insides and icing your resinous depths in such murky ribbons of cum.

So much - too much that it’s spilling out from the very brim of your sopping slit. 

And Geto only hums at the branded little gashes of his fingers and his watch on your throat - before sinking in his sharp canines for good measure. 

Stepping away - carefully - to flip you over and smear your legs shamefully splayed out on the desk. Dripping. Slobbering. He kneels until he’s only inches away-

“Let me teach ya another mmpf- lesson, gorgeous.” And Geto could barely talk with how utterly ravenous he was, deeply gulping in the heavenly musk of your pretty pussy. Tongue slackening. Drooling. “A lesson in h-heh…squirting.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “M-mommy?”

Fuck. 

Choso didn’t mean to let that slip out right now - in fact, he wouldn’t ever at all. 

Startling those pretty hazel eyes of his, he’s urgently blinking away the last remaining dredges of thorough pussydrunkenness. Sitting up from the sodden, velveteen sheets with your rawly glissading body on top of him in tow. 

Pretty coral red lips sagging and stumbling around blindly for words - and not just because your greedy hips were still caressing your melty inner walls with his furiously achy cock. “I-I’m hngh! sorry, baby, I didn’t-”

“Didn’t say I didn’t ah- like it, Cho–” you’re slithering your hands through his damply prespired scalp, and it makes Choso halfway purr. Leaning into your touch with a hiccuping few ruptures of his bawling cockhead into that sweetened spot. Chuckling, “If I’m ‘mommy’, then does that make you hah- my good boy?”

Oh.

Oh. 

And you didn’t expect this. 

Didn’t expect the way that Choso’s half-lidded eyes would glaze with a thin veil of delirium, letting those meanly-latched hands around your waist loosen for just a split-second to let your hips bounce back into his. Resonating out a proud smack! when the girthy curve of his pulpy mushroomy tip drills a fat, syrupy smooch against your cervix, “I- d-don’t-”

He can’t even finish his sentence - his string of thoughts.

Because Choso’s sculpted pecs heave once. Twice. Before he’s hiccuping out a strained mantra of your name, pouring out hot, creamy dredges of cum that slick your cushiony channel. Just from that singular word.

Clinging onto your gooey insides like adhesive - hot. Heavy. You can feel the weight of it sloshing vehemently inside you in viscous ribbons when you when Choso folds himself in half and bites down onto the precious nook of your neck. 

“Don’t s-say that.” he’s whimpering out, dragging his stupidly lolling tongue out in a lazy lick down the indenting bruise. Before lathering the very same tongue into your mouth in a sloppy kiss, “Makes me…nervous.”

And he was embarrassed - so, so embarrassed to be cumming early. 

But oh, the way those ivory rivulets paint creamy rings upon rings around his dark happy trail makes Choso’s mouth coat itself in pathetic drool.

“Awww, no need to be so ngh- shy, baby.” Your fingers tilt his droopy face up towards yours - and just one look into your eyes is enough to make Choso’s handsome cheekbones flush a bright cherub red. A few more treacly globs of seed glomping out and dripping their oozy way down your walls. Teasing, “If you ah- want I could call you daddy-”

“No-” his lower lip juts out in a pout, nose crinkling up oh-so-adorably. And you’re stuck pearing downwards in utter wonderment as his pretty plump lips encircle around one of your hardened nipples and sucks. Batting those long lashes innocently up at you, “B-but you could…make me a daddy.”

And was this really your dearly beloved boyfriend? 

Are you sure?

Because he was fucking his powerful hips up into you so nastily, throat cracking with a juggular ah! ah! ah! every time your sugar-coated squelching rang messily in his ears. Your hips were relentless - milking him so good that widely splashing tears were collecting in his eyes-

“D-didn’t think you wanted- ah!” Careening your cockdrunken head backwards when he’s sagging his dazed head on top of your chest, mouth lathering your poor nipples with a silvery coating of saliva. “-a b-baby, Cho—”

But, oh, he did. 

He always did - ever since the day he met you, and you’d been such a sweetheart to Yuji. That’s when he knew-

“R-really?” Your whispering voice was barely audible - yet, Choso knows he’ll always be able to pick out your voice anywhere. It’s snapping him out of his reverie, making him realize that he was talking out loud. Shit. 

“R-really.” Choso’s nodding - nodding and nodding so much harder with every plunging shovel of his inches down into your gooey cunt.  Hiccuping, “Always. Always w-wan’ed to breed my sweet girl’s hngh! nasty pussy.” With every punishing brand of his swabbing cockhead discovering open your cloggy insides. Sheathing himself with sticky peck after peck against the elastic door to your womb. He was so drunk now. “To have our own fuuuuck- babygirl. W-with your eyes n’ my hair a-and- and then a another girl and a boy and-”

God, it was a wonder that Choso was tumbling into his orgasm sooner with just how much he was talking himself insane.

Weighty, condensed pants of air strangling in his chest and suffocating him just as much as he was suffocating himself between your pretty tits. 

Moaning - whimpering with every spurt of thickened seed that shoots from his rotund, bawling divot and cobwebs way into the slushy bottom of your pussy. Choso’s swollen, upright curve made it so easy for him to paint every single nook and cranny with a glutinous luster of his cum. 

“O-oh– I made a mess, mommy-” It’s spilling out - frosting a slippery vanilla sheen down to the hefty, cylindrical base of Choso’s cock. Soiling the slender few digits that he’s rovering down to your soppingly wet slit, the steaming hot sap so sinful that it only makes Choso suck on your bruised and battered nipples harder. “Wh-why is nothing…”

Ah, he looks so sorrowfully disappointed. 

You can’t help but run your fingers through Choso’s sexily tangled bangs, accidentally tugging onto a clingy lock - making him cum. All over again.

Until he was running on mere fumes. Globular head swirling out nothing but a dry orgasm, you’re being spattered with wispy little pearls of his cum that help him slip and slide his still-hard shaft into you. 

Humming, “Hahhh- nothing is gonna c-come out yet, baby–” Snickering at Choso’s broken whine, “But you were such a good boy f’me today, y’know?”

He’s gasping eagerly, and that innocently fucked-out expression smeared all over Choso’s face was so lecherous. Practically bawling now - big spherical tears of his cascading when he sighs, “A good boy? Oh, s-so heh…maybe in nine months?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - X(XX)-mas

“What a greedy little thing…” And if this was anyone else they’d have been scared speechless by the rumbling purr of something animalistic in the king’s baritone. They’d have been trembling - and you were, too, but for a much, much different reason. “Look at ya- g-gettin’ fucked stupid by only one cock n’ now you’re begging for ah- both?”

And it shouldn’t be a surprise to you that Ryomen Sukuna was strong - two of his staggeringly beefy arms wrapping around your waist to pick you up and manhandle you down from all fours and into a rude prone bone. “No one in a ah- thousand years has ever even thought of taking ‘em both.”

Though, you certainly wanted to. Which is why even after marriage and already having two sons with him - you were pleading for both. 

And, well, after a thousand years - Sukuna himself would start feeling curious, of course. Not that he’d ever admit it. 

“S-Sukuna-” you’re lolling your head up a mere few inches off the saliva-lathered royal pillows - as far as it could go in your half-drunken state right now. 

“S-S-Sukuna—” Groaning voice tilting oh-so-dramatically a few octaves higher - it only got so much sexier with age - he’s simply bursting into a bout of taunting snickers. “Fine fine. Honestly, fuckin’ filthy- aren’t ya? Dunno why m’so surprised after this is the pussy that made me a daddy…heh. C’mon, beg- beg n’ I might just ah…play nice.”

One of his ruddied cockheads plunges past your saturatedly smearing folds and thumps a fat collision into your poor g-spot. So hard that it has you scrambling blindly for the splintering headboard, whimpering at the heated weight of his other shaft resting down your arched spine. It dollops out a generous, warm helping of puddling precum down your arching spine. Waiting. Wanting. 

“M’begging–” you’re gritting your teeth, pout simpering up at him. Exactly the way he liked it. 

“Hmmm, can’t hear ya-” Sukuna rolls his devilishly red eyes, a third out of his four hands guiding the sappy divot of his second cock to cling a few ropey wads of pre down your already overfilled slit. Bulging. He’s cupping his ear with another to hear, “Louder, brat.”

“I want-”

SWAT!

Five thick fingers brand their cylindrical markings onto the fleshy mound of your ass, jolting you to spearhead your gummy cunt in feral little grinds. “Please! Kuna-”

And then the next few syllables spilling from your mouth are nothing but sounds of utter disappointment, hiccuping out from your thoroughly slack maw. Because Sukuna is taking his languid time slowing down, wrenching out a few syrupy slurps. 

“Easy there, silly girl.” Only for you to feel like you’re being split-apart. To feel like you’re about to explode- a hefty-handed palm smoothing over your gaping mouth, “Shhh, yer g’na wake the heh- kids up.”

You can’t even be mad - you can’t even snap back at Sukuna, because he was giving you everything you wanted. 

Bullying in the peached curve of his plump second cock with a sodden wet smack down your sloppy entrance. Pumping in inch by inch with every slight swivel of his shaft - and the stretch was absolute heaven. 

Being trapped down underneath Sukuna’s weight - you could choke from the sheer sinful heft of him and you loved it. Muscles upon padded muscles that were softened with the pudge that came with being such a doting dad. Even if he was still in denial about the doting. 

Your clingy walls swashing Sukuna’s swollen cocks in a viscous glaze of your sweet, sweet slick. Oozing and riveting down between his rigorous lengths - he was so massive. Tauting out your sung channel until you could feel his every lightning bolted vein down the side massage into your gooey walls. Every cranny, every unimaginable sweet spot being rubbed in a sultry back and forth back and forth back and-

Sukuna’s planting another teasing smack! on your ass with a breathless cackle. In disbelief. Rubbing over the slightly swollen imprint with his overgrown blackened nails, “Atta girl, jus’ a few inches more n’ ya ah- got it.”

A few inches that felt more like a lifetime. 

It’s almost never-ending how every new jackhammer into your slobbering cunt had Sukuna supplying centimeters upon centimeters more of his double lengths. The matching fleshy tips streaming out glutinous wads of pre splattered into your cervix every time you took him so well. 

So much.

And it was driving him mad. 

“Heh, not b-bad for a lil’ human-” Sukuna’s strangling out, a few stray fingers pushing back the pink locks plastering to his sweat-lacquered forehead. “After a thousand years- a-a thousand. This pussy really is made f’me, huh?”

God, the notorious king of curses thinks he might just faint right about now. 

Eyes wrinkling in pure bliss at the sodden feeling of your pretty pussy gulping him up, the bulging outline of his own cocks massaging against each other when rummaging your teary orifice.

And all he can think about is you.

You you you with your teeth biting adorably into the silky covers of the decadent royal pillows. Waterfalls of tears blubbering down either side of your cheeks that Sukuna can’t help but free his long tongue to lick in pure savor. 

You, with your hips jostling helplessly to and fro into the deafeningly stinging cadence of his strong hips. Years of weathered battle pressurized into fucking you like it was the first time Sukuna ever had. 

And in a way it was - you’d never been so spearheaded vigorously open before. Dual battering rams of his stacked shafts plunging into your cervix, your g-spot. Leaving behind branding little swipes of ropey precum. Sukuna can’t help but scour one engulfing hand down - manifesting his second tongue onto that particular palm and dragging down the teary sap drooling from your thoroughly full slit. 

You, all round and glowing-

“S-so…” And if you heard the way that Sukuna’s voice shatters into a zillion voicecracks towards the end then you can’t tease him for it. Because the pounds he plants are so punishing. Thorough. Clearing his throat to babble - yes, babble out, “How’d ya feel a-about ah- rulin’ over those scum curses with three heirs. Or maybe four heh…five…or-”

♡ GOJO SATORU - MISTLETOE!

Gojo Satoru would buy you anything and everything. 

That pretty designer dress you looked at? Bought and tailored to your exact measurements - at least, it was before ending up in mere tatters. It’s fine, he’ll buy you four new ones, anyway. That expensive hotel you got caught searching up? Already splayed out on the silken sheets of its most decadent suite, Gojo fucking you into that very mattress like he was daring you to make the neighbors file noise complaints. 

And that pretty diamond ring? Well. 

“So beautiful, s-sweetheart.” Gojo’s voice simpers off in a drawled-out chuckle. Drunken. Pearly white teeth baring in a messy clash of a kiss against your decorated left ring finger. “The ring’s not heh- half bad, either.”

Oh, you looked so pretty and his that Gojo’s fatly plumped-up tip can’t help but butter your puckered hole with a few creamy swipes of pre. Swirling around in a few messily thick circles before pumping you lecherously full once more. 

You didn’t even know how he still had the stamina-

“T-Toru—” your fingers embellish angry red marks down his arched back. Dragging his smoothly pale back muscles and leveraging his soft pudgy tummy over yours. “Harder. Hngh- need you in s-so deep.”

“Deeper? Deeper?” He’s breathing - hissing at the gummy cling of your tugging cunt. And Gojo’s brawny arms had only grown more powerful with age, wrangling your thrashing legs up onto his broad-planed shoulders and squeezing you bent into rubbery halves. “My nasty girl, wan’in so badly t-to ngh- lock me down, huh?”

But oh, Gojo Satoru sounded so utterly elated at the idea. 

Greedy. Yearning. 

Smooching a few pretty pecks at the exact depraved tempo of his sloppy snogs against your cervix.

You could feel his rippling muscles underneath his softened abs, feel the cushiony press of his plush pecs - only grown attractively bigger over the years. The positively slathered meady topping of Gojo’s precum inside you sloshing around torrentially with every pound.

“W-well you’re the one that already ngh- bought me a ring.” You’re huffing out, just as soon as your spellbound tongue can gather together enough coherent syllables. Gliding your fingers through the faint streaks of grey infiltrating his cloudy white, it makes Gojo throw his head back with a pure whine. 

“Don’ act like you ah- don’t like it, my girl.” And oh, the pure output of his cursed energy is just right enough that when Gojo smacks! two slender digits down on your clit it makes you sob. “See? This cute cunt s’always so honest with me…how cute.”

“S-such a filthy mouth.” Yet, you’re the one bucking your gyrating hips up more and more to make your saturated cunt speak out syrupy slurps in various high volumes. 

And Gojo knows - oh, how he knows. 

Because in a split-second, you’re being shut up. You’re having those very same roughened fingertips scour their way between your pouty lips and draw a few messy smears of your sweet, sweet juices down the back of your throat. Making you choke- “Hmmm, n’ yet- you still love this ah- ‘filthy mouth.’”

You’re just about to snap back something that’ll make the pussydrunken older man above you huff and puffy - that is, until your mouth is flooded with something of a gasp. 

Eyeing the pretty glittering mistletoe hanging off the mahogany headboard that was decidedly not present just a split-second ago. And you can only batter Gojo with a flash of your narrowed eyes, “Satoru…”

“Whaaat? I didn’t do hahah- anything.” 

Yet, you could see the way his eyes wrinkle with amusement and guilty bolts of blue lightning - his powers. Thrumming with every burling sludge against your needy cervix, every tiny mewl that you’re mindlessly letting off with the pulpy slaps of his cum-filled balls against your perked ass. And Gojo’s letting his practised reversed curse energy seep into you overtime when he’s bending down, down, down. Strawberry-pink lips puckering in sugar-coated delight. So amused. “B-but you know what they say…when under the mistletoe…”

And it wasn’t just one kiss - not even two. 

“Mistletoe-” he’s whispering, tugging on your spit-slicked lower lip. Then your tongue, “Mistletoe-” Back to stealing your cute lips, swallowing every sinful noise. “Mistletoe…” Along with a bouquet of more and more sweltering kisses curving his left-leaning shaft to maze its way against your puckered g-spot. “M-mistletoe….heh.”

Not until you’re feeling dizzy with the sodden swipe of Gojo’s pinkish tongue, smearing his candied taste as he claims your sweet mouth. Filthy. Not until then does he finally pull apart, smacking away the sticky ropes of spit - only to pry open your drooling maw and dribble a sultry rivulet of saliva.

You can’t do anything but swallow, peering right into Gojo’s matured sapphire gaze-

“H-holy shit…g’nna make me ah- cum early with that-” he’s hissing, snarling. So fucking mighty with each sledgehammering collision into your sensitive g-spot. “Fuckin’ dangerous ya are. M-makin’ even the strongest lose dammit-”

You’re nodding - babbling. “M’also- ah- also…”

“Nuh uh, use those ngh- big girl words if you’re p-playin’ in the big leagues, sweetheart—” Being blessed with another sudden sopping smack! Tinged with only more crackling jujutsu. “I believe in ya. Fuuuck- use that pretty mouth now.”

“M’also- not gonna last.” You’re shrieking out, legs clamoring to tighten with the vicious tempo of Gojo’s cadence. The heat pooling in a tight bubble at your stomach only grows twofold when you hiss, “C-cum inside, Satoru?”

And you sounded so adorable - so whimpery with big, bulbous tears molting at your eyes with every jackhammer. So gorgeous with your dribbling lips parted - on both ends. So very his. 

“Heheh- s’alright, sweetheart. S’alright-” he’s grunting into your open mouth, and you could almost taste the saccharine desperation wafting from him. The pure need. “Satoru here’s not gonna hah- miss.” Heavy hand patting the cylindrical outline embedded deep into your tummy, “I have a s-safe spot alllll safe n’ sound here.”

And the last thing you see are those sexy, faint smile lines of his beaming down at you before you cum.

Sparking out pure heavenly white behind your eyelids when you’re crashing into your orgasm so hard that Gojo’s pinning you down with all his bodily weight to drill you through your high. To make you take it.

“W-watch out, my girl-” your cottony ears pick up over that blissful buzz echoing across your empty head. And Gojo’s rams grow sloppy. Oversaturated. “S’gonna be…hngh- a bit of a stretch.”

“A bit” was way underestimating it, almost sinfully so. 

Because if you thought that your springy walls were already alcoved to its maximum while all solid inches of Gojo’s cock was being driven into you - then you weren’t ready for the inflationary stretch of his cum.

Thick, spacey wads of his gooey cum that dribbles down your walls. They’re so hot and weighty, sinking your hips up and down, splattering steamy splotches down your inner thighs. 

And Gojo’s clasping your jittery ankles behind his fashionable undercut with only one of his hands, holding you trapped so that he can flood invasive wiry ribbons of seed. Have you filled to the brim and dazed-

“Ohhh, I love you- L-look how much.” he’s straining out - veering into the dangerous territory of giggling humorlessly. And you already know it doesn’t bode well for you when Gojo’s landing a massive palm down on top of your pretty lower tummy to push. Making such a mess - but you can’t act like you don’t like the heavenly sight of him spilling out of you.

“So like…h-heh. Wanna make me an actual DILF, sweetheart?”

A/N. Need a DILF to take care of me- I mean WHAT.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[agent-tangerine]

Noticed a trend (which I went through myself) where after being raised in a high control church, being taught basic Christian apologetics… we leave the faith and deconstruct the faith but it takes time to deconstruct the patterns of how we were taught to argue. We apply the same pattern and style of argument and processing to a different dogma. Many of my friends have left the church to say the same shit that the church said to us, just different dogma. We need to deconstruct how we still apply apologetic style arguments and approaches. I feel like the angry Reddit atheist feels like an outdated thing in my head, but the anger after you leave is very real.

The Audre Lorde essay and wuote “the masters tools will never dismantle the master’s house” idk I do see a pattern yhat won’t be broken until we face the human susceptibility to religious or non religious apologetics and fallacies. And to ignore our vulnerability, and the o not challenge it and change keeps us trapped.

This is to say it’s not universal, but it is an observation I’ve had with myself since leaving what my therapist calls “a cult” 18 years ago. And I’ve observed it in my friends and family who have left (usually it’s a phase, but many linger there for a while)

Some people left really atrocious religions/churches, some have had no exposure to religious dogma like that. Even if you didn’t grow up in it, everyone should be examining these styles of arguments in themselves, what conclusions we each come to idk. Religous or not, these are impacting all of us. But it is something we should examine in our own reactions.

I feel bad because even writing this I feel as though I should shut up. I. The end this is just a guess. A passing observation I’ve tried to share but have been shut down for sharing before.

So, you know how certain Christian missionaries are trained to act in a very obnoxious way, so that most people they preach to will reject them outright, so they feel like the world hates them for being Christian and they can only be friends with fellow Christians? You know that thing?

I think as activists, we sometimes need to stop and ask ourselves whether we're acting like those missionaries. I think this type of behavior is a little more ingrained into our society than some of us realize, and some of us have internalized it without realizing what it's actually meant to do.

[bisexualiteaa]

Omg! You should totally do one where he’s sexually frustrated. And the reader (female), teases him until he breaks! And when he does they get down to business BIG time if you know what i mean lol. But even when they do start to fuck the reader doesn’t listen to all his demands, making it more spicy once silco finally gets the reader exactly how he wants her.

On edge

AN: Thank you so much for this request!! I loved the idea so much and literally had so much fun writing this! Apologies that it took a few days, I again just wanted to make sure it was good and to what you asked! ♥️ I hope you enjoy and that I’ve done your ask justice! 🥺🫶

CW: no use of y/n, reader has hair, reader is AFAB, female anatomy, MDNI, cursing, teasing, heavy brät/brät tämer themes, Silco is t0uch deprived, r0ugh seggs, unprotected seggs, bïting, cream 🥧, slight dëgradation, p0rn w/o plot, äftercare, possible spelling/grammar errors

Also I’m not sure why, but as I was writing I was listening to this song and I just feel like it fits SO well! So listen along while you read if you’d like!

His forehead head sat in his hand as you entered his office, elbow leaned against the desk as his other hand held a glass, amber liquid and two ice cubes swirling around inside the ornate rocks glass. Whiskey, he only drank on the rougher days anymore, and judging by the cigar that sat in the ash tray on his desk, smoke emanating from it, told you he was having a day. You on the other hand, were in a different sort of mood, a bubbly, perhaps more mischievous mood. You weren’t quite sure what brought it about, whether it was your confidence just hitting a new high today, or what but you could tell from the sassy sway to your hips as you shut the door carefully behind you. Something you didn’t realize had in fact been noticed by him, he was just doing a very good job at hiding it.

“Rough day?” You asked innocently, sauntering over to his side as you stood beside him. The scent of your perfume filled his nose the moment you moved closer, leaving him to inhale its intoxicating scent. Sometimes he wondered if you mixed a sort of drug into it with the way he craved its familiarity, wishing to smell it on his sheets, his jacket. When he did, it drove him wild, the transfer of it from just a simple hug was enough to leave him clutching the large jacket and taking a whiff on occasion when no one was looking or when he was alone in his office. Each time he did, he could feel his cock twitch with excitement as his mind would then drift to you. Sinful thoughts filling his mind of how good you would look splayed against his sheets beneath him, or how you would look bent over his desk as he ravaged you. Shimmer had nowhere near the effects that you had on him, it was almost impressive as much as it was sad. How long had it been that the simple scent of your perfume could cause him to go mad? Or for your fleeting touches to leave him with such carnal need? He couldn’t remember, but you made him feel young again in that sense.

“Quite” he replied plainly, placing the glass down on the desk, trading it for his cigar that had already been halfway smoked. You watched as he took a long drag of it before leaning back and releasing the smoke in an exhale upwards, ensuring he wouldn’t breathe it into your face. You loved the scent of his cigars, something about the tobacco mixed with smoke and his own personal scent left you enjoying being around him as he smoked more than you probably should have. There was something just so alluring about it. “Every time I turn around it feels as if something has fallen apart and is in need of my attention” he finally explained, leaving you to look upon him sympathetically. The lines of stress etched into his forehead and brow spoke truth of this, the bags beginning to accumulate beneath his eyes only further evidence to his unrest. Your hand came to rest against his thigh, rubbing soothing circles along his skin. Something you’d done in the hopes it would help him calm down a little, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have ulterior motives behind it.

You felt his body tense for a moment from the soft touch, looking down at your hand that rested against his mid thigh. It was so close, so close yet so far. He wondered how it would look in your small, dainty hands, how good it would feel. He turned his head and shifted a little to try and erase the thought from his mind, but even as you removed your hand, its heat lingered on the spot like a painful reminder. “Zaun looks to their leader for guidance and aid, but even a leader deserves rest” you said, smoothing your hands along his jacket, flattening any wrinkles that formed from his previously hunched over position. You were bent over as you did, the shirt you were wearing giving him direct sight to your cleavage as your perfume continued to intoxicate him. Did you have any idea the things you were doing to him? Surely you had to, you couldn’t be so oblivious to your effect on him, could you? He was ashamed of the hold you had on him, how weak you made him from just a simple touch. He tried his best to hide it, and hide it well, but as you stood here before him he knew today may very well be the day he reaches his breaking point. “I’m granted no rest when someone walks through my door just about every hour” he replied, making you hum as you stood back up, watching his eyes trail you as you walked back over to the door. He felt himself release a breath he had no idea he’d been holding in as you put a slight distance between you. “Then lock it” you said with a cute little grin, the bolt turning in the door with an audible click before you turned back around, watching him clutch the cigar between his fingers with a fierce grip. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, no one has ever looked at you like that, with such fire in their eyes, with such desire. It made your stomach twist in knots. “No one can bother you if they can’t get in” you finished before returning to his side, this time watching as you boldly sat on an empty corner of his desk.

You couldn’t quite read the look on his face as you did, but you had noticed the way his eyes would flit up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking. He took in the way your pencil skirt seemed to raise past your mid thigh as you sat down, giving him a flash of your panties from beneath it when you would go to cross your legs, leaving him incredibly hard beneath his pants. You were toying with him, you had to be. There was no way you were doing this all unknowing of the effects you had on him. Pathetically, he was falling for it, and he hated that he was. He caught the glimpse of a grin resting on your sweet, plump lips as your downcast gaze trailed him up and down, waiting for a response. You were teasing him on purpose. “You play with fire” he stated, making you giggle. “I know, I can’t help myself. I like the possibilities of being burnt” you answered confidently, your foot dragging up and down his calf affectionately. Janna almighty you’ll be the death of him, but if that were to be the case, what a hell of a way to go.

You watched him as he stood before you, hands planting on either side of your thighs as his face hovered close to yours. “You think you’re so clever? Waltzing in here with that short little skirt, teasing me and think I wouldn’t notice?” He asked, making you hum as your grin only stretched wider. “Seemed to be working just fine, was it not?” You asked in reply, feeling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart to allow him a place to stand between before pulling you to the edge of his desk where your hips met his. “You tell me, what do you think?” he replied, leaving you to gasp softly as you felt him pulse and twitch against your heat. “I think I have you wrapped around my little finger” you boldly claimed, your fingers walking up along his jacket before your arms looped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him but never fully closing the distance. “You think so?” He asked in response, making you giggle. That same smug grin rested on your lips as electricity thrummed between you, your faces mere centimeters apart, waiting to see if he would cave in. Your gaze flit to his lips with heavy lids, enjoying the mental turmoil you were putting him through as he fought caving in immediately. “You want me so bad? Come get me” you whispered, your breath ghosting across his lips as they hovered so very close to his own. He needed you in ways he couldn’t even begin to try and explain.

So he caved.

You felt his hand come to rest on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, finally closing the distance between you as his lips captured yours. The kiss was fiery, passionate and messy, a gravely groan leaving him into it. You could feel the rumble in his chest from it, paired with the way his lips danced against your own told you how long he’d been wanting this, how much he’d been needing this. Needing you. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched to your lips into it, thinking of all the ways that you could push his limits. Your hand smoothed down his chest, toying with his tie as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, an effort to push the kiss further into something more intimate. You giggled as you denied him, earning an impatient groan in response as his free hand groped your ass roughly, making you moan. The moment you did, he took his chance, his tongue exploring you as it tangled with your own in a messy clash of teeth, tongue and lips. It had you dizzy.

When he pulled back he looked you over, not caring this time if you laid witness to it or not. He took the moment to take in how your chest heaved with each labored breath, how your cheeks were flushed, lips shining with swapped saliva. “Gonna keep staring at me? Or you gonna do something about that problem of yours?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him chuckle darkly. “Oh it will be fixed, but it won’t be me fixing it” he said, yanking on your hair to pull your head back, earning a pathetic whine from you as it made you look up at him, finding yourself unable to bite back in this position. “You caused it, you fix it” he ordered, making you moan as he rolled his hips against your own, brushing his painfully hard cock against your panty clad cunt, allotting you some much needed friction and stimulation. All you could do was look up at him, excitement and anticipation filling your gaze leaving him to chuckle. “No witty come back to that? I give you the smallest taste of how good I can make you feel and you give up just like that, hmm?” He asked smuggly, making your face grow hot with defeat before he let up on his grip in your hair. “Strip” he commanded, making you stand up and work at untucking your shirt before unbuttoning it slowly. He watched as every button came undone, more of your gorgeous body was revealed to him, his eyes raking over your curves. The fabric soon dropped to the floor haphazardly next to his desk, to be forgotten about until later when it would be needed again. Next was your bra. His eyes were trained on you as he watched you unhook the backing, allowing it to slide down your arms and join your shirt in a growing pile. Your nipples had hardened from the temperature change, the exposure to the air and from the excitement coursing through you in anticipation of what was to come next. Then came your skirt, its simple button and zipper being undone allowing it to drop to the floor and pool around your feet with ease, earning a groan from him at the sight of you nearly naked before him. You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties, working them down from your hips before they fell to your ankles, leaving you to kick them off to the side with rest of the pile. You watched with much intrigue and entertainment as he seemed to twitch with anticipation and need for you, making you giggle.

“How long has it been?” You asked curiously, a cocky grin on your lips and confidence in your tone as you looked at him, looping your arms around his neck. There it was again, your perfume, overwhelming his senses. “I beg your pardon?” He asked, brows furrowed and sending a rather defensive look your way. “How long has it been?” You asked again, watching as he looked you up and down. “Since?” He asked in reply, not seeming to understand what you were hinting at, or maybe he preferred you just spit it out. “Since you had sex. Can tell by the tension in your shoulders and the way you practically moan with every touch that it’s been a while” you pointed out playfully, making him a little angry that you managed to get beneath his surface and figure him out so well. “You best be careful of that mouth of yours. My kindness, even with you, has its limits” he responded, making you hum. “Then go ahead, be mean. I’m a big girl, I can take it” you challenged making him walk closer to you, inching you towards the edge of his desk. “You want me to be mean, do you?” He asked, the rasp of his voice lowering to a much deeper tone, a crooked smile resting on his lips. He couldn’t lie, the slight tinge of fear resting in your eyes when you felt your back hit his desk, telling you there was nowhere left to go, awakened something dark within him. Something carnal, animalistic. You looked like nothing more than helpless, vulnerable prey, and he was about to eat you alive. You couldn’t deny the predatory look in his eyes certainly worked wonders on you in return. “Don’t look so concerned…” he started, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek gently before leaning in close, leaving his lips just millimeters from yours.

“I’m about to make your day” he finished, his words mixed with the feel of his breath ghosting your lips so closely send a shiver through you in excitement.

It wasn’t long before his pants were around his ankles, thrusting his cock balls deep into your soaked cunt. Your shared panting and moans, paired with the creaking and screeching of the poor desk beneath you that had been slowly inching its way across the floor with each thrust, filled the room. Should anyone walk past his office, there would be no mistaking what was happening just behind the door. Though you supposed your moans could have likely alerted all of Zaun at this rate, with your first orgasm of the night already past you, it’d be a miracle if no one could hear you. Your head was tilted back as he drilled into you, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure as your arms looped around his neck for leverage. You watched as he looked down to the space where your bodies were connected, watching his length disappeared inside of you with ease. He couldn’t help but to notice the little white ring that rested at the base of his length from your previous orgasm as the sound of his hips smacking roughly against your ass filled the room. “Fuck! Oh gods, yes!” You moaned, making him grin. “How long has it been?” He asked, looking to you, waiting for a response from you but your pleasure-idled mind was so foggy you could hardly understand what he was asking you. “Since? Oh fuck! Right there!!” You replied the best you could, tilting your head back again, leaving your tits just inches from his face as your back arched upwards towards him. “Since someone fucked you right. Since someone made you feel this good” he finished, making you whine as his hand grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he forced you to look back up at him. The cute pout that rested on your face, occasionally morphing into ones of pleasure each time his tip bullied your cervix, had him rutting into you harder. “Never! Not ‘til you- oh!” You managed, making him chuckle as he relinquished you from his grip. “Pathetic. You put up all that fuss, do all that teasing and yet I still manage to get you right where I want you” he said through grunts of pleasure, his neatly slicked back hair slightly falling against his forehead that had a thin sheen of sweat. “Feels so good! Oh gods, Silco!” You moan pathetically, knowing he was exactly right but you didn’t care. You’d spend every night here like this with him if he made you feel this good every time.

You felt as that familiar sensation in your lower belly began to take root again as his lips captured your own in a messy but passionate kiss, your moans raising in pitch and growing closer together a clear sign that you were close. As if on que, his fingers traveled between your bodies, coming to rub your clit to give you that added bit of friction you so desperately needed. You gasped before moving your hips against his and his fingers, meeting his merciless thrusts and fucking yourself on his fingers. “You’re right where you belong. Beneath me like this, cumming on my cock as I please you like no one else ever will” he said, rubbing your clit faster to make up for the way his thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm. You were so close to finally falling over the precipice, your body feeling as if it were catching on fire as your every nerve ending lit up. His words were what sent you there. “You’re mine” he growled, biting into your shoulder as you came together, his bite sending you toppling over the edge into pure bliss, while your walls squeezed him tight, milking him of everything he’d been holding in for far too long. Your body twitched and spasmed with the intensity of your second orgasm of the night, a pleased hum leaving you as you felt him cum inside of you, throbbing repeatedly as he emptied everything into you.

You both sat there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms together, fighting to catch your breath. You watched him smooth his hair back with his hand, doing his best to get it out of his face and back to how it was originally styled, or at least the closest he could get it. You smiled as he kissed you softly, leaving you to cup his dance gently in your hands. “Are you alright?” He asked into it, checking to make sure he hadn’t overdone it and hurt you. You gave a hum then a giggle. “I feel wonderful” you said with a bubbly grin, making him chuckle as he continued to kiss you, not wishing to leave your arms or the taste of your sweet lips just yet. “Good, as do I” he replied, making you grin even wider. “Fuck yes you do” you said, playfully yet truthfully, making you both laugh. “Oh is that so? Have I ruined anyone else for you?” He asked, the hint of possessiveness in his tone as his lips traced down your neck. “You might have. Not that I care to find out, you said it yourself; this is exactly where I belong, and it’s exactly where I intend to stay” you said, your head tilted a little to grant him better access to your sensitive skin. You heard him groan next to your ear as his lips lingered upon all your most sensitive spots.

What caught you by absolute surprise was the sensation of him throbbing within you, twitching to life again from inside of you. You gave a gasp with both intrigue and excitement as he looked to you with a grin. Apparently your words had let the monster out, because stay there you would for nearly the rest of the night, getting lost in one another without a care for how sore you’d be tomorrow. It was well worth it when you were with him.

[corkinavoid]

Hey, @confused-they, this is for you and for everyone else who wanted more of this AU. Merry Christmas.

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage [pt. 4]

[<- part 3]

[Written to 'Tantrum' by Ashnikko]

TW: mentioned mild gore (some inside parts become outside ones, nothing graphic)

Tim can't breathe.

Joker's mad laughter is ringing through the darkness of the warehouse, echoing in his head, the screeching sound straight out of nightmares. Hood should be nearby - as in, somewhere in this darkness along with him - but Tim can't think about that, his own maniacal giggles bubbling in the back of his throat, a grin tugging at his lips.

He has to get up. He has to stand, he has to fight, and it really shouldn't be this hard.

But he can't breathe.

Tim clutches his fingers on the fabric of his suit on the chest, distantly wondering if this is how Danny feels when he is more human than ghost. Probably not, he mentioned that breathing is only optional.

He really wants his boyfriend right now. His fiance. Whatever, he wants Danny, he wants his cold hands on his cheeks and the faint, humming purr of his core that Tim finds nice to fall asleep to, and-

Maybe later. He can't exactly summon him now, not in the middle of a fight, especially not in the middle of a fight with Joker of all people.

There's an angry growl somewhere to Tim's left, staticky through the voice-modulator. Then several sounds of gunshots and a gleeful, taunting yell of the madman.

Hold on.

Tim snaps his eyes open - not that anything changes, everything is still pitch-black around him - and blinks.

Why not?..

It's not like Danny is a civilian. Tim tends to pay little attention to the fact since the King of Infinite Realms doesn't hang out with the whole superhero convention on principle. But Tim is pretty sure he won't mind it this once.

Besides, Tim is so done with Joker that it's not even funny.

A few breathy chuckles escape his throat as he lets his body fully slump back on the floor and brings his left hand to his face, placing a quick kiss on the Ring through his glove. He doesn't need to do that, not really, but it's kind of a ritual at this point, and the gesture somehow makes him feel better.

"Danny," he whispers.

For a long moment, nothing happens.

Then, there's a soft, popping sound, and his beautiful boyfriend is floating right over him, faintly glowing and a little sleepy. Tim is momentarily distracted by his bare feet and pj pants with tiny rockets on them.

Danny yawns and tugs the hem of his t-shirt down as it starts to float. "Whas'sup," he mutters, rubbing his eyes and clearly not fully awake, and Tim's heart melts instantly. He loves Danny. He just... He loves him, okay? He loves that Danny didn't question his summons for a moment, he loves that he came even though he was obviously sleeping, and he loves that Danny is wearing a tee he stole from Tim.

Unfortunately, before he is able to get his shit back together, another sound of gunshot ripples through the air, and Danny startles, blinking himself awake and looking in the direction of it. Then, his eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth makes a soft 'O' shape before he turns back to Tim and tilts his head in question.

"You want me to deal with him? The clown, I mean, not your brother," he asks, and it's so casual and off-handed that Tim actually huffs a laugh.

"Sorry, I was just- I'm really tired of his ass," Tim should probably sit up, this is not a talk they should have while he is lying on the ground. On the other hand, Jason is somewhere out there, and he has guns and doesn't have a clear visual around him, so maybe Tim shouldn't sit up.

Danny hums, "Is that a yes?"

Tim just nods. He is pretty sure Danny can see him despite the darkness. "I promise it's a one-time thing, I don't plan on calling you every time one of local lunatics acts up. I just... I fucking can't with him," he admits with a defeated sigh. But, before he can spiral any further into the abyss of unworthiness, Danny's cold hands are cupping his cheeks, and his icy eyes are looking right into Tim's sky blue.

"Love, I don't mind getting rid of each and every one of your Rogues. Granted, it would probably fuck up the timeline, and Clocky would be mad, but I'd do it if you want me to, no questions asked." His voice is quiet, and Tim has never been more grateful for his domino mask, because he can feel his cheeks heating up and he doesn't want Danny to see the exact effect his words are causing.

"I- Okay," he quietly agrees, and then blinks, backtracking, "Wait, no, don't fuck up the timeline. Just deal with the laughing bitch this once, and that's it. We can handle the rest."

Danny is smiling at him in that adoring way Tim recognizes as 'I really want to kiss you, but it's not the time or place'. Then, he nods and lets go of Tim's cheeks, straightening up in the air, and his clothes shift all at once, like a magic trick.

Gone are the stretched out t-shirt and the pants with rocket ships. In their place, Danny's body is head to toe covered in stars and galaxies that hold the vague shape of armor, and there's a slightly shimmering, blueish-green translucent cape over one of his shoulders.

The Crown over his head, the sentient artifact much like the Ring on Tim's finger, appears from nowhere, and, after a brief pause - Tim swears it was debating on whether or not the situation is worth the effort - promptly sets itself on fire. Blue flames cast long shadows on Danny's, no, King's face, making him look older and his cheekbones sharper.

Before, the boy was only faintly glowing, and, evidently, the others present in the warehouse were too distracted to notice him.

But now, with the flaming Crown casting dancing shadows on the walls of the warehouse, it's really hard not to see the otherworldly being making an appearance.

"Holy fuck," Tim hears Hood's quiet, astonished voice, and almost cracks a grin.

Yeah, he wants to say, that's my boyfriend. Although he suspects he and Jason are having vastly different reactions to Danny's presence. Because Tim kind of wants to take all his words about dealing with Joker back and take Danny home, straight to bed.

...He is going to have to strangle Jason in his sleep if his reaction is similar. No, that's a wrong thought, this is so not the time for it.

"Who are you, flying glowstick?" Joker sounds rightfully pissed off by the interruption, "Does Batsy employ alien kids now?"

Danny chuckles, the starry freckles on his cheeks glowing brighter, "Okay, just because you compared me to an alien, I'm not going to completely erase you from this plane of existence."

Tim snaps his head up.

"Wait, no killing," he reminds, not because he actually cares but because B would throw a fit. Danny brushes him off with a wave of his hand.

"No worries, he'll stay alive," he smiles at Tim, and to everyone else, it probably looks like stuff of nightmares, sharp, pointy teeth and lips stretched out far beyond human capabilities. But Tim sees it for what it is: a face of mischief.

"Do I get a vote in this?" Jason's deadpan voice comes from somewhere on the other side of the warehouse at the same moment as Joker screeches in rage, "Who the fuck do you think-"

"Nope," Danny pops the 'p', and Tim is not sure if he is answering to Hood or refusing to listen to the clown's monolog by it. Maybe it's both. It's probably both.

The next moment, Danny is gone, disappeared from the place he was floating at, and Tim hears a wet, very unpleasant sound followed by Joker's scream of pain.

"You see this?" He hears Danny's nonchalant, unfazed voice above the clown's pained cries, "This is your rib, bitch- Hey, quit whining and listen to me, it's important."

There's a slap, a rustle, and a sound of ripping fabric, and Joker's voice becomes muffled, like someone put a gag in his mouth.

"You're like Adam now, you know, lacking one rib," Danny continues, "Only I'm not making you a girl out of this one, I'm pretty sure you don't deserve to reproduce. Anyway, going further down that metaphor, I'm the God almighty in this situation, so if you want to keep the rest of your ribs - and the rest of other things that are supposed to stay inside of you - to yourself, you gotta do a thing for me, okay?"

There's some muffled groans that Joker makes in response, then an enraged growl, a sound of a struggle, another slap, and then that same wet, disgusting squelch.

"Two ribs, wow, okay, you're really being difficult about this!" Danny sounds so innocently dumbstruck about it that Tim suppresses a laugh. "Are you listening now?" There's a quiet, choking wheeze that answers him, and Danny sounds quite pleased when he says, "Great."

Tim debates if he should look. He doesn't exactly want to since the sounds provide enough context, but it might be somewhat cathartic for him.

And then the air around him inexplicably shifts, becoming cold and oppressive, weighting Tim down like a heavy blanket and pushing him into the floor. The dancing shadows and the blue light of flames on the walls twist and churn, like taking aim, and Tim doesn't know what Danny looks like right now but he knows he is as far from human as possible, his voice coming with a staticky, echoing whisper, a threatening hiss slithering inside Tim's ears.

"Play your little games all you want, Fallen Jester, but know that you can not win. The punchline to your joke is long overdue, and your soul has belonged to me for quite some time now," his words are cold and uncaring, and in all the time Tim has known his boyfriend, he has never heard him speak like this: with a sense of lazy power, like he is only humoring the people around him.

Like they mean nothing to him.

"I will not kill you, or at least not here and now. My Guiding Star doesn't want to see my hands dirty with your filthy remains. Besides, death is only a moment, and you don't deserve only a moment of suffering," he huffs a short, humorless chuckle, "But, luckily, I am the Eyes of the Universe, the Titan's Bane, the King of the Dead, and everyone will meet me once their eyes fall shut for the last time," there's a smile in his voice now, full of cold and merciless anticipation. Tim feels a shiver run down his spine.

"So just you wait, Jester, and I will meet you on the other side. Then we'll see how whatever is left of your soul is going to spend an eternity."

Tim's ears are ringing with the pure, somehow gleeful hatred that laces those last words. He didn't know he could literally taste the disgust and the promise of pain, and yet, here he is, with a hint of something sour on his tongue.

And then, the heavy, weighted air that has been charged with power is lifted, the shadows and bright blue lights are all gone, and Danny, wearing his pj's and smiling, is standing over him. His feet are planted on the ground for once, and the Crown is gone without a trace, but his t-shirt is still trying to float up. The boy tugs it down again, offering a hand to Tim.

"Wanna go out for a burger since I'm already here in Gotham?"

Tim had never breathed easier in his life. He laughs a little and reaches up, taking his beautifully unhinged boyfriend's hand and standing up.

"I thought you'd never ask."

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 6.9k ⇢ genre: fluff, established relationship, secret relationship, office workers!jisung & reader, holiday themed, a bit of a crackfic (everyone in this is slightly unhinged and you should NOT act like them in your actual workplace PLEASE), appearances from absolute nuisances nohyuck (mainly hyuck being a nuisance and jeno being a desk candy bowl thief) and chill boss johnny (he’s actually the only normal one around this office fr), part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon ⇢ warnings: lots of discussions of sex/sleeping together (nohyuck have an absolutely unhinged plot to have reader hook up w jisung w/o realizing that they’re already dating, shenanigans ensue) ⇢ extra info: this was originally going to be part of want from me, but i felt like i was losing the plot a bit, so i tweaked some stuff and made it its own fic instead this is part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, three short, unrelated fics starring jisung all with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises. there’s no continuing plotline between fics in this series, they’re all standalone fics ⇢ author’s note: ok i may be stretching the concept of a ‘cheesy hallmark movie’ in this one, but there’s a holiday party. sue me. ⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

“You need to fuck Jisung.” Donghyuck sat on your desk the following Monday, nearly knocking your cup of pens over.

“What happened to hello? How are you?”

“I get why you didn’t want to tell anybody when I was interviewing,” Jisung sighed as you adjusted his tie for him. “But don’t you think everyone’s formed their own opinions about me by now?”

“You told me Mr. Kang called you Joosung yesterday,” you pointed out. “We agreed after your three-month evaluation, remember?”

“That’s next month!”

“Two weeks. December tenth, to be exact, will be three months since you started.”

“I know, I know.” He pulled you closer by your hips, burying his face in your neck. “Thank you.”

You rested one hand on the nape of his neck, the other stroking his hair. “I hate it too. I was in the bathroom yesterday and overheard a couple of the women from budgeting talking about you. Apparently one of them wants to ask you to the holiday party.”

He lifted his head up, squinting with confusion. “Wait, was it Song Minji from budgeting?”

“Yes…”

“Yesterday she asked me if I was going, I said yes, then she asked if I had a date, and I said no, and she said she didn’t either. Then she just stared at me. It was really awkward, so I told her I had to get back to my spreadsheets and walked away.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as your boyfriend continued looking down at you with absolutely endearing confusion. Patting his cheek, you informed him gently, “She was waiting for you to ask her to the party, baby.”

“Well, even if I knew that, I wouldn’t have,” he huffed.

“I know, Sungie,” you kissed his cheek. “I know.”

“Good.”

You glanced at the time on your bedside clock, tapping his arm indicatively. “We’ve got to go.”

“Y/N, someone from bookkeeping will be over to pick these receipts up today,” Mr. Suh, your boss, informed you, setting a large banker box down on the ledge behind your computer monitor.

You nodded. “You sure you don’t want me to just take them over there now?”

Bookkeeping was on the same floor as your team, just on the opposite side of the large office building.

“No, I’ve got six more boxes in my office. They should be coming with a dolly. I’ve got a lunch meeting, then I’m on-site at a build. Can you make sure they get them all?”

“Of course. See you tomorrow, then.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow.” He smiled and reached into your candy bowl, securing a chocolate for himself before heading off towards the elevator.

As you continued working up your reports, another figure approached your desk.

“Hi.” Jisung smiled down at you from over the banker box.

“And what is a bookkeeping gremlin doing over here?” You teased, having already spotted the bright orange dolly next to him. “They let you guys out of your cages?”

“Just me, because I’m on a mission.” He did a little mock salute, making you giggle. He then looked between the dolly and the box. “But I don’t really think this was necessary…”

“There’s six more boxes in Mr. Suh’s office,” you informed him happily, pointing to your boss’ door.

“Oh.”

Two of your team members, Donghyuck and Jeno, congregated around your desk then as well, Jeno zeroing in on your candy bowl as always, and Donghyuck snooping at what you were doing on your screen.

“Boring!” Hyuck declared, hitting CTRL + S on your keyboard to save it for you before exiting out of the program. “Lunchtime!”

“Hey, I was working on that, you know,” you protested, keeping up your usual banter with your work friend.

“Now you’re not,” he shrugged.

“Actually, you were chatting with…” Jeno trailed off, looking at Jisung expectantly.

“Jisung,” your boyfriend filled in.

“—You were chatting with Jisung when we got here,” Jeno finished, popping another chocolate in his mouth and tucking it in his cheek to talk around it. “So you weren’t really working.”

“She was telling me where the other boxes of receipts were,” Jisung explained quickly, gesturing to the dolly. “I’m supposed to pick them up. I’m from bookkeeping.”

Hyuck scanned him from head to toe. “You’re new, right?”

He nodded.

“Come to lunch with us.”

“No, Hyuck,” you snorted, cutting up your food as your coworker attempted to show you a picture of another one of his friends over lunch. “The last asshole you set me up with stood me up, remember?”

“I told you, Jaemin got a stomach bug!” Hyuck insisted. “And that was like, over a year ago!”

You looked at him pointedly. “And he could text you but not me? Think about it.”

“Okay, so he was a flake, but Mark is like, a really good guy!” He elbowed your other coworker next to him. “Jeno, back me up!”

Jeno shrugged. “Eh, he seems like the kind of guy to call you ‘bro’ in bed.”

“Not the kind of back-up I meant!”

“Am I wrong?”

“Why are you thinking about what Mark would call you in bed, Jeno?” You snickered.

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you mimicked him.

Hyuck pushed on in his seemingly never-ending pursuit to set you up with his also never-ending pool of single friends. “Ignore him, Y/N. Will you at least consider? For me? Your bestest friend?”

“I never see you outside of work functions,” you pointed out.

“Please? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?”

“Whatever. Send me his CV,” you said noncommittally, taking a bite of your food.

“On it!”

“Wait, he’s applying for a job?” Jisung finally spoke from his seat beside you, his confusion apparent.

“No, that’s just what they call whatever information Hyuck sends her about the guys he tries to set her up with,” Jeno explained for him. “It ends up being pretty much the same stuff that’s on a résumé, though.”

Hyuck then focused in on a new target. “Jisung, what about you?”

He froze. “What?”

“Are you single?”

“Uhm—”

“Lie if you have to,” you advised. “Once he smells blood, you’re done for.”

“I’m not a shark!” Hyuck took great offense to this comparison. “I’m-I’m like Cupid!”

You let out a derisive laugh at that, stabbing your fork into your food and lifting your next bite to your mouth.

“I’ve got a girlfriend,” Jisung answered hurriedly.

Hyuck narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “So you’re bringing her to the Christmas party.”

“I-I don’t know, we uhm—we just started seeing each other.”

“You’ll bring her to the next monthly mixer, then?”

“I’m pretty sure this is workplace harassment,” you stepped in on Jisung’s behalf, giving Hyuck a disapproving look. “We had a seminar, remember?”

“You’re not curious?”

“No, I don’t care to see you bother poor Jisung for the rest of our fleeting lunch break.”

“Fine, I won’t disturb Y/N’s precious lunch break,” he gave in melodramatically. “But I want to hear about her when we get back to the office, Jisung.”

When you and Jisung got home that evening, you waited until the two of you had gotten out of your work clothes to address the pout on his lips that had been present ever since lunch.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting at your dining table with him.

He started unpacking the to-go food. “Why did you tell Donghyuck to send you that guy’s info?”

“To get him to shut up about it. He would’ve done that for our whole lunch break, Sungie.” You shook your head, watching as he avoided your eyes. “Are you jealous? It’s not like I’m actually going to do anything with it.”

“I know, but I still don’t like that he’s sending you dating résumés, and it’s apparently been a regular thing?”

“Okay, I know we made it sound like it happens all the time,” you agreed. “This is like the third time, including the guy who stood me up last year. When you and I started dating, I told Hyuck not to bother anymore. But then he heard that I wasn’t bringing a date to the holiday party, and he started his little matchmaking thing again. That’s why I never told you, because there never was anything to tell.”

“I’m sorry if it sounded like I was accusing you of something, baby,” Jisung murmured, reaching for your hand over the table.

“Do you want me to block him or something?”

He sighed. “No, of course not.”

“Damn it, I was hoping you’d say yes. I’ve been looking for an excuse for years.”

He finally chuckled at that, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Here.” You brought out your phone and stood behind him, maneuvering your arms around his shoulders so he could see your screen as you opened your texts with Hyuck and started deleting the most recent ones debriefing you on his newest eligible bachelor for you.

“Wait a second.” Jisung stopped you before you could delete all the pictures that Hyuck had sent.

“What?”

To your surprise, your boyfriend actually opened one of the pictures of the guy.

“Jeno was right,” he snorted, closing out of the picture.

“Wh—Oh,” you started laughing. “Yeah, absolutely.”

You finished deleting everything about the guy, then shut your phone off. “All gone. Can’t even remember his name.”

Jisung pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thanks, baby.”

“And I’ll tell Hyuck no more in the future. Sound good?”

“No, maybe it’s for the best. I don’t think you need to be subjected to the interrogation I went through today.” He leaned his head against yours affectionately.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I trust you.”

“Aw, thank you, Sungie.” You kissed his hair then hugged him properly. “I knew that. It was cute to see you get jealous, though.”

“You need to fuck Jisung.” Donghyuck sat on your desk the following Monday, nearly knocking your cup of pens over.

“What happened to hello? How are you?” You blinked up at him incredulously, rescuing your writing utensils and pushing them to a far corner.

“No time, we need to save our new favorite little bookkeeping gremlin.” He quickly saved your project and closed the window on your computer.

“And you think having sex with me is the cure for cancer or something?” You snorted. “They really wasted their money on your slot in that workplace harassment seminar.”

“No, look, he’s in an awful, awful situationship. I know he said she’s his girlfriend at lunch the other day, but he doesn’t have any pictures of her, he didn’t want to show me her social media. He said she probably wouldn’t be able to come to the mixer because of her ‘work schedule’—” Hyuck used finger quotes around the words ‘work schedule’ “—but the way he said, it sounded like he was just preemptively making excuses because he knew she would turn him down. I asked him about their first date, and you want to know his answer?”

“What?” You asked dryly.

“That they don’t really do ‘that stuff!’” More air quotes.

“Okay?”

“Then I asked what stuff they do do, and he turned bright red!”

“So he’s lying about having a girlfriend to get you off his back.”

“Mm, she sounded pretty real.”

“Okay, maybe he’s twisting the truth and he’s got a fuckbuddy and he still doesn’t want you playing matchmaker,” you suggested another alternative. “Either way, you should leave him alone.”

“No, look, I’ve got this all figured out. He needs to be reminded that there’s women other than this girl—”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “How do you have a rotating roster of men to throw at me, but somehow the only woman that comes to mind for your braindead plan is the one in your immediate line of sight? This is confirming my suspicions that you get no bitches, Lee Donghyuck. Have you talked to a single woman other than me and your mother?”

“Listen, it has to be you so nobody catches feelings!”

“So you’re saying I’m unlovable?”

His eyes widened comically as he went to backpedal. “No, of course not! I meant—Jeno, back me up!”

Jeno, who had been silently leaning against the ledge behind your computer monitor this whole time, happily snacking on the red and green Hershey’s kisses in your candy bowl, slowly finished off the one in his mouth before speaking. “Here’s the thing—”

“You condone this?” You scoffed.

He shrugged. “It’s like, his second-worst idea. Marginally better than setting you up with Na Jaemin.”

“Why do I bother asking for your back-up?” Hyuck muttered.

“But he doesn’t think you’re unlovable. He just knows that you’re a professional, and Jisung is still a newbie and works in a different department. So obviously, there’s like no risk of catching feelings if you guys do… Because work, you know?”

You sat back in your chair, glancing between the two of them dubiously. “Do you two think these are normal things to say to people? At work? To your coworker?”

They looked at each other with wide, horrified eyes, beginning to stutter apologetically.

“I’m in,” you declared abruptly, watching their jaws drop. You then focused your next sentence at Hyuck specifically. “If you’ll stop trying to set me up.”

“Done,” he agreed immediately.

Jisung had excitedly told you about the results of his three-month evaluation to you over dinner that evening, and as you two cleaned up after, you relayed your conversation with your coworkers to him.

“I finally got Hyuck to stop setting me up. Permanently,” you announced in a sing-songy voice, drying the last dish Jisung had just handed you before putting it up in the cabinet.

“Really? Did you find out he killed someone or something?” He asked, shaking the water off his hands over the sink before grabbing the towel hanging in front of it to start drying his hands.

“Nope, he just asked me to do something.”

“Oh, and who do you have to kill?”

“Nobody.” You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind him. “You see, he’s very concerned that this ‘girlfriend’ of yours doesn’t like you as much as you like her.”

“I know we’re literally coworkers, but he needs to get a job,” Jisung retorted.

“Why did you say we didn’t go dates when he asked about our first date?”

“I was afraid you might’ve mentioned it before and I didn’t want him to connect the dots if I told the same story.”

“You couldn’t come up with a fake first date? Carnival? Arcade? Dinner?”

“I was panicking!”

“Anyway, he thinks you’re in a toxic situationship, and that the only solution is for me to sleep with you.”

“Wait what?!” His muscles flexed and contracted under your hands with his words, and he seemed almost oblivious as you continued roaming them over his front.

“Because we would never catch feelings for each other, obviously,” you informed him with mocking seriousness, making him scoff.

“I assume you told him to fuck off and stop setting you up anyway?”

“Nope.”

“Huh?”

You finally put a hand under his shirt to touch his bare skin, and he shivered and jerked away instinctively.

“Ah! Cold hands, baby,” he whined, but made no further moves to get away.

“Then let me warm them up, Sungie,” you giggled, pressing your fingers more intentionally against his skin. “Anyway, why would I pass up the perfect opportunity to fuck with Hyuck and fuck my hot boyfriend at the same time?”

“I don’t think I like how similar that phrasing was.”

“Sungie,” you dragged out the last vowel pleadingly.

“So you’ve got a scheme?” He asked knowingly.

“A fun one,” you promised, kissing his neck. “In multiple senses of the word. But it means everyone finding out we’re together a few days later than we planned. Is that okay?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Alright. What’s first?”

“I’ve got to hold up my end of the deal, of course.”

Donghyuck and Jeno were quick to swarm you first thing in the morning. They at least brought you a coffee this time. There was no work up on your computer yet for Hyuck to close out of, so he just made himself at home on top of your papers that were on your desk instead.

“Okay, we need to brainstorm,” Hyuck got right to business as Jeno dug into your candy bowl. Well, not the business you were actually sitting inside of, but his plot. “The holiday party is on Friday. I’m thinking if you start being a little flirty leading up to it, like casual, you know, not too much, that should warm him up.”

“The more planning you put into this, the creepier it gets,” you informed him, taking a sip of your coffee.

The elevator dinged then, and Jisung stepped off, eyes focused on his feet as he hurried off towards the break room. The elevator opened towards your side of the floor, while bookkeeping was on the other side, and the breakroom, storage closet, and copy room were situated at the midpoints on the floor.

“Jisung’s late?” Jeno commented, bewildered. “Didn’t he say he always gets here ten minutes early to make his coffee before everyone else?”

Hyuck looked at this as well, eyes narrowing. He turned back to you and Jeno. “Did you guys see that big hickey on his neck? Now he’s running late and wearing the same tie as yesterday? This is why we need to help him. Anyway—”

You shifted in your seat then, readjusting your blazer so that it ‘accidentally’ pulled your blouse just enough to show off a love bite situated on your collarbone.

Hyuck actually froze in place, staring at you as he short-circuited. Jeno gave you a quiet, short round of applause.

“Damn, you work fast,” he commented.

You looked down at where Hyuck was staring, as if belatedly realizing your mistake, moving your neckline back up to cover it again.

“You really…” Donghyuck trailed off, blinking rapidly as he began rebooting.

You shrugged. “Didn’t want to announce it like we were in a locker room.”

“He’s walking over here,” Jeno coughed under his breath.

And sure enough, Jisung approached your desk. He looked uncertainly at Donghyuck sitting next to you, and ended up standing by Jeno behind the ledge, finally looking you in the eye.

“H-Hi, Y/N,” he stuttered nervously.

“Morning, Jisung,” you greeted him brightly. “Kiss?”

“Huh?!” He squeaked.

“Hershey kiss?” You pointed to the bowl that Jeno was grabbing another candy from. “They’re caramel filled.”

“O-Oh. Sure, thanks.” He took a green one. “S-See you later.”

“Bye.”

With that, Jisung skittered away, back off towards bookkeeping. Hyuck and Jeno both turned to you with wide eyes.

“I’ve made a grave miscalculation,” Hyuck whispered.

“That boy is pussy whipped,” Jeno whistled lowly.

You rolled your eyes at them. “Or maybe you guys were looking at the two of us with flashing ‘I KNOW YOU HAD SEX’ signs over your heads.”

“Oh, did I forget to leave that at home again?” Hyuck replied snidely, mockingly swatting just above his head. He then leaned in to whisper-yell at you, “Do you actually have the cure for cancer in there because what the hell was that?!”

“Good morning, Mr. Suh!” You chirped at your boss as he walked by.

Hyuck sat up straight, saluting to your boss. “Good morning, Mr. Suh!”

“Mornin’, Mr. Suh,” Jeno said through a mouthful of candy.

“Morning, morning, morning,” Mr. Suh greeted each of you in turn, then yawned. “Ugh, is it Friday yet?”

“Not quite, unfortunately,” you chuckled.

At home that night, you were keeled over with laughter on your couch, clutching your stomach as you and Jisung recalled the looks on your coworkers’ faces this morning.

“Who knew you were such a good actor, Sungie?” You choked out through laughter, wiping at your tears.

“I just had to act like I was madly in love with you, that wasn’t acting, baby,” he smiled fondly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. “I’ve had to act every day at work except today.”

“So smooth, Park Jisung,” you giggled, kissing him.

“It’s the truth.”

“I know. You’ve never been smooth, just honest. And I love that about you.”

“Ouch, and also thanks?”

You snickered and kissed his pout. “Ready for tomorrow?”

Stepping off the elevator in the morning, you didn’t spare another glance to Jisung, who had ridden up with you. Typically, you would take separate elevators, one of you waiting for the next one, but today, you broke that rule. You dropped off your purse at your desk before going to the break room and making your usual cup of coffee.

Jeno and Donghyuck were already waiting for you at your desk. You rolled your eyes at them. “You two have your own desks, you know?”

“You and Jisung got here at the same time,” Jeno stated.

“Is there a question in there?” You raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Did you get a new shampoo?” Donghyuck asked, leaning forward to sniff the air around your head.

You swatted at him. “Personal space?”

“That doesn’t smell like a woman’s shampoo…” He went back in for another sniff.

“Quit it, freak!” You rolled away from him.

“What’s happening?” A third voice had joined you all, right on time. Jisung was at your desk, cup of coffee in hand.

“Nothing, Jisung.” You threw on a bright smile, scooting back up to your desk. “What can I do for you?”

“I-I just uhm, I wanted to say good morning. And I brought you some coffee.” He offered the cup out to you.

“Aw, thanks,” you said sincerely, then looked down at your own cup on your desk regretfully. “But I already got some.”

His face fell. “O-Oh. I guess I’ll—”

“Hold on, Jisung!” Donghyuck stopped him from leaving, hopping off your desk. Jisung froze in place as your coworker grabbed his arm. First, he took the coffee from his hand and set it on the ledge behind your monitor, then he grabbed your boyfriend’s collar and yanked him down to take a deep whiff of his hair. Jisung yelped at the rough treatment, arms flailing until Hyuck let him go, giving him a loud slap on the shoulder. “That’s all. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Lunch later?” Jeno offered to him. “All four of us.”

“S-Sure,” he looked at you and blushed before hurrying away.

You crossed your arms as you glared at Hyuck. “You literally just assaulted him.”

“And you—” He pointed at you dramatically, “—slept with him again. That’s his shampoo that I was smelling on you.”

“I think my extracurriculars are none of your business.”

“Mm, Jisung’s more of a co-curricular, don’t you think?”

Jeno snickered.

“I think it’s still none of your business.”

“This wasn’t the plan, Y/N.”

“I did your stupid plan, Hyuck. Why are you so obsessed with Jisung’s sex life? Is it because you’re not getting any?” You taunted.

“Nice attempt to deflect, but the plan was to get him to stop being strung along by that other girl. Not for you to start stringing him along.”

“You make me sound like an evil witch.”

“So you’re serious about Jisung then?” Hyuck gasped mockingly. “Adorable. Gonna be each other’s date to the holiday party? When are you meeting the parents? Have you picked a ring yet?”

You bit down on your lip and looked at your lap to avoid laughing, which he thankfully seemed to interpret as guilt on your part.

“Exactly as I thought,” he said smugly.

“The puppy love thing is cute now, but it’s probably best for working together in the long run to just let him down easy sooner,” Jeno gave some surprisingly wise advice through a half-eaten Hershey’s kiss.

Having composed yourself, you finally let out a contemplative, resigned sigh. “Yeah, you guys are probably right.”

“Always are,” Hyuck tsked.

Lunch was honestly kind of fun—It felt like being a kid with a crush again, sneaking glances at Jisung, trying not to be too obvious about your flirting, and playing innocent when your coworkers would shoot you pointed looks every time Jisung did something totally head-over-heels for you.

Mid-afternoon, and Jisung was back at your desk. He had a few papers in his hand, some flimsy excuse of questions about the receipts he’d picked up last week, but really, you two were just talking. Discussing what to make for dinner, additions to the grocery list, what you were working on, little things.

The sound of a door opening caught your attention, and you looked over to see Mr. Suh coming out of his office. He’d just been on a phone conference, and had his empty coffee mug in his hand.

“Hi, Mr. Suh.” You sat up a little straighter. “Afternoon decaf?”

“Yep.” He lifted the mug in greeting as he walked by, heading for the breakroom.

“I’m going back to my cage with the other bookkeeping gremlins,” Jisung murmured. “Don’t want him to catch me still here when he gets back.”

“Laser beams aren’t going to come out of his eyes and incinerate you on the spot if he does, you know,” you giggled.

“How do you know?” He tapped your desk rhythmically, then mouthed, ‘See you later.’

You mouthed it back, contentedly watching him walk away. You were back to working on your reports when Mr. Suh returned from the break room. He drifted over to your desk, however, standing against the ledge conspiratorially.

“Was that the new kid in bookkeeping?” He asked lightly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, Park Jisung,” you informed him. At your boss’ inquisitive lean forward, you gave a little more context, “He picked up those receipts last week and Hyuck ended up inviting him out for lunch with us.”

“He seems to be over here quite a bit recently.”

“We chitchat sometimes.” You paused, then widened your eyes. “Is that a problem? Nothing’s been late or anything, has it?”

He gave you his usual easy-going smile. “It’s fine, Y/N. Your work has been great as usual.”

“Okay, good.”

“Hi, baby,” Jisung greeted you brightly that evening from your usual meet-up place after work. If neither of you had to stay late, or had an errand to run after work, you would meet up outside a cornerstore a couple blocks away from the office.

“Hi, co-curricular,” you beamed back, leaning into the kiss he was pressing to your cheek.

He pulled away with an adorably confused pout on his face. You laughed, taking his arm in yours as you started down the sidewalks together, relaying your conversation with Hyuck and Jeno this morning.

“I don’t know what’s funnier, the idea of me genuinely ‘stringing you along’ or your new nickname,” you giggled, squeezing his arm.

“You already changed my phone contact, didn’t you?”

“I put a heart next to it!”

“The rumor has spread to bookkeeping, by the way.”

You blinked at him in mock surprise. “You guys have office gossip over there?”

“Yeah, we finally invented the wheel and have time to gossip now,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “Huang Renjun told me he heard Song Minji and Park Chaeyeon talking about it in the copy room.”

“That’s how it breached containment,” you tutted. Chaeyeon was from your department, but you knew she and Minji were office friends. She must have overheard it from your area—Hyuck wasn’t exactly the quietest man you knew, and there was no way your other coworkers hadn’t noticed Jisung’s frequent trips to your desk if Mr. Suh had.

“Uh-huh.”

“What exactly were they saying? Did Renjun tell you?”

“Some stuff he didn’t want to repeat about you—” He cleared his throat. “But mostly, he wanted to ask me what, if anything was true. I felt bad lying, I like Renjun.”

“Yeah, he was my favorite bookkeeping gremlin before you started.”

Jisung elbowed you, obviously offended. “I still did bookkeeping before I worked here! I just did it somewhere else!”

“He was my favorite at this company before you started. Better?”

“Much.” He smiled as you leaned in to kiss his nose. “I told him the rumors weren’t true.”

“That wasn’t a lie!” You reminded him emphatically. “We’re not just coworkers with benefits, or co-curriculars, or recently started secretly dating, or whatever!”

“I’m just glad we only have two more days of this.” He laced his fingers with yours. “I want to be able to have a picture of us on my desk, and talk about you to everyone, and show up and leave together.”

“Me too,” you agreed, fond smile on your lips as you approached your front door. “It’s been fun, but the best part will be when everyone knows you’re mine. For real.”

This was weird. You had been at work for thirty minutes and hadn’t seen nor heard Hyuck or Jeno. Maybe today would be normal for once. As soon as that idea had crossed your mind, they came beelining for your desk, and you knew that would be impossible.

“Good—” You couldn’t even get a friendly greeting out of your mouth, Donghyuck fully sitting on top of your keyboard, entering a bunch of random characters into the email you had been writing. “Uhm, you know, that email to Mr. Suh wasn’t important, actually…”

Yanking your keyboard out from under Hyuck, you deleted the gibberish and saved the draft email before setting it aside to deal with whatever was going on. You looked at your coworkers expectantly.

“Y/N…” Jeno surprisingly took the lead. “How did you go about letting Jisung down easy?”

You blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? I just told him we should keep it professional and not see each other anymore…? And that was it.”

“And how did he take it?”

“Fine?” You glanced between their extremely serious demeanors with increasing worry. “Why? What’s going on?”

“We just had to comfort a crying Jisung in the men’s room for the past thirty minutes, that’s what’s going on!” Hyuck finally hissed. “I don’t think your easy is very easy!”

You leaned away from him in utter shock. That was definitely not part of the plan today, and now you were genuinely worried about why your boyfriend was apparently crying in the men’s room—he definitely wasn’t a good enough actor to do that on the spot.

“Woah, I didn’t—”

“Well, you did.”

“You don’t get to pin all the blame on me here,” you shot back immediately. “Whose stupid fucking plan was it for me to sleep with him in the first place anyway? If I recall, you never found him crying in the bathroom with his last girl that you were so concerned over.”

“You diverted from the plan and he got attached!”

“Okay, it’s everyone’s fault!” Jeno cut in decisively.

“What’s everyone’s fault?” Mr. Suh stopped by your desk, briefcase in hand as he had just gotten into the office. “There’s been an awful lot of whispering going on over here. Something I should know about?”

“No, Mr. Suh!” Hyuck chirped brightly. “Lunch plans fell through, we’re just rescheduling.”

Your boss looked at you skeptically, waiting for confirmation. You nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, lunch plans.”

“Alright.” He shrugged. “There’s a good sandwich place a block over. If you’re looking for recommendations.”

And with that, he went into his office.

Turning back to Hyuck and Jeno, you whispered, “I swear to God, I wasn’t expecting him to be crying. Okay?”

“We’re being a little harsh on you,” Jeno admitted quietly. “We should all just leave Jisung alone, I think.”

He took a candy out of your bowl and departed your desk without another word. Hyuck followed, still shaking his head. You quickly brought your phone out, immediately texting Jisung.

[you: BABY SOS]

He texted back immediately

[co-curricular 🩷: IM HERE]

[co-curricular 🩷: WHAT’S WRONG????]

[you: im fine but are YOU okay?!]

[you: jeno and hyuck told me they found you crying in the bathroom]

[co-curricular 🩷: oh nonono im okay baby i promise]

[co-curricular 🩷: im in the copy room, can you come so i can explain?]

[you: omw]

You hurried from your desk to the copy room, relieved to find it devoid of any coworkers except Jisung, who was attending to a copy machine, placing documents on the glass, closing the lid, and copying them in a steady rhythm.

“Sungie,” you breathed out in relief, darting over to him, needing to see his face for yourself.

“Hey, baby, hey,” he said soothingly, letting you wrap an arm around his waist and lean into him affectionately. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You stepped back, cognizant of the fact that any of your coworkers could enter at any moment. “So what were Hyuck and Jeno talking about then?”

“When we got in this morning, the temperature change from the cold air outside to the heat inside the building was making my eyes water and my nose run,” he explained, gesturing to his face. “I went to take care of it in the bathroom. Donghyuck and Jeno ran into me while I was cleaning myself up and assumed I had been crying. Nothing I said could convince them otherwise, and they of course also assumed it was connected to their advice to you to let me down easy. So I played along. I know it wasn’t part of the plan, but I couldn’t get them to let it go.”

“I was almost feeling bad about lying to them, but they do this to themselves.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall next to his copy machine. Your tone softened as you added, “I’m really happy you’re okay, Sungie.”

“I’m happy you checked on me so quick, baby.” He smiled, taking a step closer to peck your forehead. He lowered his voice to say, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmured, looking up at him, fighting the urge to just grab his suit jacket and kiss him. “Lunch later?”

His nose wrinkled with distaste. “Are Hyuck and Jeno coming too?”

“Just us? At home?”

“Oh?”

“I miss you.”

He nodded. “I miss you too.”

It was finally Friday, finally the day of the office holiday party. You just had to survive work and lay the last couple breadcrumbs, then it would all be over tonight.

You were making your morning cup of coffee in the breakroom with Hyuck and Jeno, and went to engage them in conversation. “Are you guys bringing anyone to the party tonight?”

“Nah.” Hyuck poured his own cup.

“You’re not beating the ‘no bitches’ allegations.” You clicked your tongue.

“I think it’s a bit weird to bring someone you’re not like… properly dating to a work event and introduce them to your coworkers,” Jeno answered, rooting through the employee fridge.

“So that’s a no?”

“Correct,” he mimicked your taunting tone of voice.

Jisung, who had been quietly measuring out sugar into his own cup of coffee at a far counter, apart from your conversation physically but definitely within earshot, inserted himself then, “I’m bringing a date.”

Jeno hit his head on a shelf in the fridge. “Shit—! Huh?”

“You are?!” Hyuck blinked at him, utterly shocked.

You slowly turned around to face Jisung, cocking your head. “Oh, me too.”

“Since when?!” Hyuck snorted.

“Just because I didn’t tell you about it doesn’t mean I haven’t had one,” you hissed.

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Jisung nodded, and you saw the corner of his lips twitch, ever-so-slightly, too small for anybody who didn’t know him as well as you to catch. “Guess I’ll see you and your date tonight, then.”

“Same. You, as well.” You nodded curtly, watching him pivot on his heel and stride out of the breakroom.

“You don’t have a fucking date,” Hyuck stated dryly as soon as he was no longer in eyesight.

“That was hard to watch,” Jeno said, opening a Tupperware of food that definitely had somebody else’s name on it.

“And neither does he,” Hyuck continued, pointing to the doorway that Jisung had disappeared through. “No way he’s found somebody in a day. Unless…” He looked at Jeno with alarm. “Oh no. You don’t think…?”

Jeno squinted. “What?”

“What if he brings his toxic situationship to get back at Y/N?” Hyuck gasped. He then turned to you, “Look, I guess I can see if Mark’s free tonight—”

“No,” you cut him off firmly. “I’ve already got someone in mind.”

“So beautiful, baby,” Jisung murmured, taking one of your hands and kissing your knuckles.

“Hey, I’m trying to fix your tie clip,” you laughed, pulling your hand back from him to continue adjusting his tie clip that had gone askew thanks to his seatbelt.

The two of you were standing outside the venue of the office holiday party. You were fashionably late, as part of the plan. You had to make sure Hyuck and Jeno were already there, so they could see you arrive together, wearing your coordinated outfits. Jisung’s tie was of course a complimentary shade of the color of your dress—not too matchy-matchy like kids at a grade school formal, but clearly together, not accidental.

“There.” You smoothed out the lapels of his suit jacket, smiling up at him. “So handsome.”

He kissed your cheek. “Thank you.”

“Are you ready?”

“More than.” He grinned, lacing his fingers with yours.

Walking in, instrumental Christmas music was playing over the speakers and a steady hum of conversation filled the room. There were a few familiar faces near the front, but nobody you were overly friendly with. You grabbed Jisung’s shoulder for support as you went to talk to him over the din of the crowd. He hunched over slightly to listen to you better, holding you steady with a hand on your hip.

“Want to get a drink first?” You suggested.

“Sure,” he agreed, keeping his hand on your lower back as you moved through the sea of people.

There was a special cocktail for the night, ‘Mistletoe While You Work,’ which you ordered out of curiosity. Once it was in your hand, you took a sip, and you were pleasantly surprised. Not too sweet, and you couldn’t taste the liquor at all.

“Hey, baby,” you smirked, holding your glass up between yours and Jisung’s faces. “Uh-oh, we’re under mistletoe… kinda.”

Jisung laughed, and you put the glass down to watch his face crinkle up and his nose scrunch in all its adorable glory. “Mm, hard to argue with that.”

You were still smiling as you pressed your lips to his in a short but sweet kiss. He kept you close when you broke apart, an arm still wound around your waist.

“Uhm, Merry fucking Christmas to you guys, too,” Hyuck announced himself, standing off to the side, his own drink in hand and Jeno of course with him.

“Oh, hey guys,” you greeted them nonchalantly. “Merry Christmas.”

“What happened to your dates?” Jeno cut right to the chase.

You and Jisung pointed to each other, making nearly identical faces as if you were oblivious to why Jeno and Hyuck were confused.

Hyuck started buffering as he tried to process the situation. “What…?”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you finally put them out of their misery, watching as their jaws dropped simultaneously.

“Since before I interviewed, actually,” your boyfriend added.

“Over a year, to be exact.”

“You guys are sick in the head,” Hyuck jabbed an accusatory finger at you both.

“Who was making a whole convoluted plan for me to sleep with one of our coworkers that you barely knew?” You immediately fired back. “You’re lucky we did this instead of reporting you to HR.”

Jeno quickly threw on a wide smile, clapping Jisung on the shoulder. “You fit in great here, Jisung.”

“Glad to have you on the team.” Hyuck went to hug Jisung, making him stiffen up at the unexpected affection. Your coworker then gestured to both of you, putting a hand over his chest. “You two are so adorable together. What a great couple. I’ve said that from the beginning, right, Jeno?”

“You thought they would’ve had awful chemistry.”

“Would it kill you to back me up for once?” Hyuck turned his ire on your other coworker.

Mr. Suh walked up to the bar then, putting his order in with the bartender before greeting you all. “Ah, hello, everyone. Merry Christmas.”

A chorus of hellos and Merry Christmases rang out in response.

“Was Mr. Suh in on it?” Jeno asked you.

“Whatever ‘it’ was, no, but now I wish I was,” Mr. Suh answered, clearly intrigued by this conversation.

“Y/N and Jisung are dating!” Hyuck immediately tattled, and you rolled your eyes at his childish tone.

“There’s nothing against the rules,” your boss said calmly. Then, he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Especially if the relationship predates one of you working here.”

You and Jisung exchanged a surprised look, making Mr. Suh laugh.

“Okay, I had a hunch, but that was the confirmation I needed,” he chuckled. “When I’d see Jisung at Y/N’s desk alone, I don’t know—you two seemed way more comfortable around each other than two people who had only talked for the first time a week ago. No matter how much you liked each other.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hyuck gawped.

“It didn’t seem like any of my business.”

⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69

@winkeuu

[multipleoccupancy]

Her life certainly sounded very strange to him but he couldn't really say if it was the strangest there was. Perhaps the cultist versions of themselves had stranger lives in what they did. He had a lot to think about again it felt like but there was a great distraction going on in front of them. After Samantha's miss, he had waited to see how Sloane would do. Another tie! Well that was supposedly for the best when it came to Samantha's competitive side.

"Yes, it seems we're just as talented as each other," Sloane was sure to offer cordially and with a smile too. Pleased with the way it had all gone. It was only playful but sometimes these things could get out of hand and now at least he knew each member of O-Cell, honorary or not, could handle the crossbow if needed.

"We can have a rematch down the line, but I think so long as you're not in front of five soda can sized bears, you should be just fine back home." He encouraged as she seemed to calm down again, albeit slowly.

Meanwhile Theo saw his opportunity and gestured to the crossbow. "How about you let the professionals handle that one?" He piped up playfully to Sloane and Samantha. "You know, those who can shoot down all of their cans."

He knew he would be winding Samantha up and part of him was sure that he could get Sloane too. "Really, we shouldn't be letting armatures keep it, right Odin?" He turned to Violet with a smile and that very same playful wink she was used to. He was only teasing them but well, it was also the truth right?

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"He is," she confirmed, thinking about George, and how manipulative he had been, too. It seemed cultists liked to lie and play with people. In a strange way, the Sloane she knew was at least honest. Insane and dangerous, yes. But he never tried to manipulate her. My life is strange, she couldn't help but think to herself as she realized that she had met so many cultists in just a year. Evil Theo, Sloane, George... Not to mention all the odd mobsters from the Apocalypse club, with their thick accents and absurd names.

She nodded. Yes, her cultist counterpart had made her choice. But Violet could never truly hate her, because she knew that things were not so black and white. She didn't say any of it, instead focusing on the final round of the competition.

And it was a rather thrilling watch, because after Samantha's missed shot, her victory was not so certain anymore! She looked perfectly discomfited as she stared at the untouched soda can. Unless Sloane missed another shot, it would be a tie. But his little jab did manage to revive her, and she quickly turned to him in a storm of blond hair.

"You could still miss," she pointed out in a huff as she handed him the crossbow.

But Sloane did not miss. He hit the two soda cans, and just like that, the two of them were tied. Violet thought it was the ideal outcome. Samantha seemed like she would be both a sore loser and a very infuriating winner. But a tie? Well, a tie was relatively neutral.

While it was clear that Samantha was disappointed that she had not won, she still smiled at Sloane. "Alright, alright, maybe you're just as good as me," she teased. The fight was over, and she was returning to her usual self -cheerful and sweet. But the transformation had been quite striking, and Violet definitely understood why her dad didn't like Monopoly.

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 7 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sprout?” I say, looking up from my computer.

“What are we having for dinner?” Tara asks. She limps around the back of the couch with her crutches before leaning them against the coffee table and plopping down next to me.

“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “Thai food?”

She nods and rests her head on my shoulder, letting her eyes skim over the finance essay I’ve been working on. Because Christina Carpenter is still in London Tara’s staying with me until she comes back. At first she said it was to keep me company, but I know she’s just too scared to stay home alone since the last time she was alone she was attacked.

“Okay then, I’ll order something. Is there anything particular you want?” I ask, closing my laptop and pulling out my phone.

Tara shakes her head and grabs the remote next to me, turning on the TV.

“Alright.” I scroll through the options and choose two similar dishes and a side of spring rolls. I go to pay and order, but Tara stops me, turning down the volume of the TV and lifting her head off my shoulder.

“Wait.”

“What? Do you want something else after all? Pizza? Or sushi?”

“No, but you should order some Pad Thai,” she says, shifting nervously.

I chuckle softly, her sudden change in behavior going completely unnoticed. “You just said you didn’t care what I got you.”

I go to change her order, but she stops me by taking my phone away.

“It’s not for me,” she clarifies quietly which makes me raise my eyebrows and look at her expectantly. “It’s for Sam.”

I frown. “Sam? But she’s in Modesto?”

After giving our statements to the police and getting checked out at the hospital, Sam left immediately to pack up her life in Modesto. She promised Tara she’d return to Woodsboro for good as soon as she’d taken care of everything and I thought it would take her more than just three days to get everything in order since that’s how long she’s been gone for now, but apparently not.

“No, she called earlier while you were in the shower and said she was on her way back,” Tara clarifies, watching me nervously and waiting for my reaction.

“O-Okay,” I stammer. “So, you told her she could stop by for dinner?“

Sam and I haven’t talked about anything that happened yet. Not about Ghostface, her psychosis, or my feelings for her which Richie so graciously revealed to her, and not necessary just because we haven’t had the time to yet. No, I’m just not ready for it, but it seems like Tara thinks otherwise. Or she just doesn’t care, either way, Sam is on her way here now and a talk will be inevitable.

“Yes. . .” she says, hesitating slightly before going on. “And I may or may not have told her she could also stay with us until mom gets back.”

“What?!” I shriek, my eyes widening.

Tara shrinks in on herself, nodding, and to make matters even worse she adds, “And I also kind of told her it was your idea because she said she wouldn’t come if you didn’t want her to.“

My jaw drops and I blink in surprise, completely taken aback.

“So, just a heads up when she thanks you for inviting her, I guess,” she squeaks out, smiling sheepishly.

“Oh my God, Tara—“ I run my hand down my face and groan, “—I don’t even— Why would you—?”

“I didn’t want her to be alone,” she’s quick to defend herself. “She said she would just stay at a motel until she finds an apartment, or mom gets back and allows her to stay with us again, but I couldn’t just let her do that. After everything that’s happened she—“

“I get it.” I cut her off and drop my hand in my lap.

Of course I don’t want Sam to be alone. Not after everything that’s happened. She needs someone, she needs Tara, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m nervous to face her and that I’m upset Tara went behind my back.

“So, she can stay for a while?” she asks hesitantly which makes me sigh and nod.

“Yes, she can stay, but don’t ever pull something like that again. I mean, I love you, Sprout, but that’s just— No.”

Tara’s shoulders sag with relief and she nods adamantly. “I won’t, I promise. I wasn’t thinking when I did it. I just didn’t want her to be alone and since I’m staying with you, I figured it would be fine if she just stayed with us, too. I mean, you are best friends. . .“

“Were,” I correct, but it doesn’t faze her. She just hands me my phone back and I, now resigned to the idea, wordlessly add the Pad Thai to our order before finally paying for it and ordering it. “So, when is she going to be here?”

Tara checks her own phone for the time. “She said she’d be here in an hour fourty five minutes ago, so in about fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes. Wow, okay. This is really happening. First I don’t see her for five years, and now she’s going to be living with me.

Luckily I have a guest room she can use since Paige and Liam stay over all the time, but we’ll still be seeing a lot of each other and I don’t know how to act around her now that Ghostface is gone.

“Okay.” I take my laptop off my lap and put it on the coffee table. “I’ll get the guest room ready then.”

The first night Tara stayed with me, she slept in the guest room, but then she had a nightmare and crawled into my bed which is where she’s been sleeping with me ever since, so I’ll have to change the sheets before Sam gets here.

I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sleeping in a bed Tara’s already slept in, but Tara was sweating quite a lot when I found her screaming and shaking in her sleep, so I’ll just go ahead and change them real quick.

“I’ll help,” Tara is quick to offer, but in the end I do all the work since she can’t stay on her feet for long without her crutches.

It is a little difficult to get everything done with only one arm, but in the end, I manage just fine and not even a minute after I’m done the doorbell rings.

“That’s Sam,” Tara says, limping out of the room. I follow her nervously, but keep my distance when she greets Sam at the front door.

The two of them share a sweet hug and exchange some mumbled pleasantries before Tara invites Sam into the apartment.

The older Carpenter sister looks around curiously and sets her bag down to take off her shoes and jacket, her eyes landing on me as soon as Tara steps out of the way.

“Hey,” she says, straightening up and tucking her hair behind her ears.

I awkwardly lift my free hand in greeting. “Hi.”

“Thanks for letting me stay with you for a couple of days,” she says, smiling a thin-lipped smile.

Tara watches us curiously, waiting for my reaction.

I don’t want to make this any weirder than it already is, so I just nod and say, “You’re welcome. The guest room is all the way down the hall to the right.“

“Thank you.” She picks up her bag again and steps further into the apartment. Her movements are uncertain and I can tell she doesn’t really know how to act, so I say, “Why don’t you go put your stuff away and freshen up a little. We’ve got Thai food on the way and Tara’s already picked out a movie.”

“Yeah, okay.” She looks like she wants to hug me, she even steps a little closer, but then she thinks better of it and turns on her heels, heading to the guest room.

I let out a shaky breath as soon as she’s out of sight and head to the kitchen, Tara following me on her crutches.

“So, what was all that about?” she asks, leaning against the counter when I pull a bottle of water out of the fridge. “I mean, I know Sam was gone for five years, but the two of you weren’t acting this weird around each other three days ago. Did something happen?”

What didn’t happen? We almost died several times, I found out she was seeing visions of Billy, and after all this time, she now knows how I feel about her and she has yet to say something about it.

I have no clue how she feels about it. Does it bother her? Does it make her uncomfortable? Is that why she hasn’t talked about it yet? No, she can’t be, if she were she wouldn’t have agreed to come here, right?

“It’s. . . nothing,” I say, opening the bottle and taking a sip.

Tara raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but she doesn’t push it which I’m grateful for because Sam enters the kitchen a moment later.

That was fast. . .

She’s changed out of her jeans into some sweatpants and has tied her hair into a low ponytail.

“Did you get everything sorted out in Modesto?” Tara asks and Sam nods, accepting a new bottle of water when I hand it to her.

“Quitting my job was easy and it didn’t take long to convince my landlord to let me move out before my lease ended,” she explains, slowly but surely getting more comfortable in my space. Her brown eyes take in her surroundings and when she spots an old picture of Tara, herself, and me on the fridge her face softens and her eyes find me.

She once again has an unreadable expression on her face, but before I can dwell on it, the doorbell rings.

“That’ll be our food. I’ll be right back,” I say, excusing myself and making my way out of the kitchen to the front door.

The delivery guy is around my age and he smiles when he hands me our food in a plate bag, but then his face drops and his eyes widen in realization.

“Wait, aren’t you one of the people involved in the Ghost—“

“Nope.” I hand him a five dollar bill as a tip and slam the door in his face before he can finish his sentence.

This has happened several times now. Every time I order food or go out to the convenience store around the corner, I get recognized and asked about what happened.

It’s something I could really live without because it brings back the memories of what happened, but I guess people are just curious and it’s going to take some time for them to find something new to obsess over.

Taking a deep breath, I shake my head to get rid of the memory of Richie’s lifeless body and head into the living room where Sam and Tara have already made themselves comfortable on the couch.

They’re chatting about God knows what but stop when they see me come in with the food.

“Finally!” Tara eagerly accepts her food when I hand it to her and steals one of the spring rolls before I can set them on the coffee table for everyone to share.

I smile and take a seat next to her, taking my own food out of the plastic bag before handing Sam who’s sitting on Tara’s other side her Pad Thai.

“Thank you. What do I owe you?” she asks, her eyes lighting up ever so slightly when she opens the takeout container and sees what we got her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I say, waiving her off, but she’s not having it.

She frowns and sets her food down in her lap. “No, please tell me. You’re already letting me stay with you for free, the least I can do is pay for my own food.”

“It’s really no problem,” I say before gesturing at Tara. “This one’s been mooching off of me for years now, so paying for one more extra meal really isn’t going to make a difference.”

It’s true. I’ve paid for a lot of Tara’s food and whatnot over the last couple of years, but it’s does matter because my parents left me quite a bit of money when they died. My mom was an investment banker and had quite a bit saved up before she passed, so that’s where most of it came from, but I also got a bunch of money when I sold our old house.

“Hey!” Tara protests around a mouth full of food and shoves me playfully, and I just shove her back and poke her cheek.

“What? You sayin’ it isn’t true?” I teased and when she doesn’t answer I just chuckle softly and turn my attention back to Sam who’s still looking a bit torn. “Really. It’s no problem. Just eat. I’m sure you’ll find some other way to make it up to me.”

Her face softens and she finally nods, her brown eyes shining with gratitude. “Okay. . . Thanks.”

I send her a tight lipped smile and focus back on my own food, giving Tara permission to finally start the movie she picked once we’ve all settled down properly.

It’s almost three in the morning and I still can’t sleep.

We went to bed a couple of hours ago, after finishing our dinner and watching another movie, but I just can’t sleep.

I kept tossing and turning in my bed—grateful that Tara decided to sleep in the guest room with Sam tonight—until I just couldn’t take it anymore.

Now I’m sitting at the kitchen island, in the dark, with a steaming cup of tea in front of me. I was hoping it would maybe help me feel a little sleepy, but so far no luck.

I’m as wide awake as ever because my mind keeps replaying what happened three days ago at Amber’s. I can still hear the gunshots, Sam’s pained whimpering, and Richie’s gurgling when he chocked on his own blood.

So many people are dead, and all because of Richie and Amber’s fucked up dream of making a new Stab movie.

Wes and his mom’s funeral is next week and I’m planning on attending it, but I don’t know how I’m going to handle it yet. It feels like it was only yesterday that I went to my parents funeral and I just know going to theirs will bring back a whole lot of memories.

After everything that’s happened I’m just glad nothing happened to Liam and Paige. The two of them are still in San Francisco, but they texted me earlier that they’d be returning some time next week.

“Can’t sleep?”

I flinch so hard, I spill some of my tea over the back of my hand, making me hiss in pain. I look over my shoulder and exhale shakily when I see Sam standing in the doorway with her arms wrapped around herself.

“Jesus, Sam,” I whisper, wiping my hand on my pajama pants. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry.” She approaches slowly and hesitantly takes a seat on the high chair next to me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay. . .” I look at her and when our eyes meet in the darkness I drop my defenses and let my shoulders relax. “Do you—Uh— Want some tea?” I ask and when she nods I get up to make her a cup.

“So. . . Can’t sleep?” she asks again when I turn on the kettle and I sigh before answering, keeping my back turned her way.

She makes me nervous, looking all calm and cozy in my space, and the fact that she’s wearing my faded high school hockey sweater is making it even worse.

Where did she even get that?

The only explanation I can come up with is that Tara gave it to her since she’s always raiding my closet for oversized stuff.

“Yeah, you know—Nightmares. . .” I say, taking out a mug and putting a tea bag in it before filling it with hot water.

“I get it. I get them, too.” Sam smiles sadly and accepts the tea with a grateful nod when I hand it to her. Our fingers brush for a second which sends sparks up my arm and I’m quick to pull away and take a seat on my chair again.

“Right.” Of course she has nightmares, too. It’d be weird if she didn’t. After all she was the one who was being manipulated and used for this whole new-stab-movie bullshit. The rest of us just got hurt.

I can feel an awkward silence settling over us, and take a sip of tea to distract myself. Sam is playing with the string of her tea bag, glancing at me every so often as if she wants to say something.

For a couple of moments, she doesn’t, seemingly scared of how I might react, but then she seems to gather enough courage. She turns in her chair to face me and buries her hands in her lap, saying, “They’re mostly about you, you know?”

I set my tea back down and turn to face her as well, frowning. “Huh?”

“The nightmares,” she clarifies, her dark eyes searching my face for any kind of reaction. “Every time I try to sleep, I see you, covered in blood and dead. Tara, too, sometimes, but it’s mostly just you.”

I raise my eyebrows, surprised, but don’t say anything because it seems like she isn’t done talking yet.

“I can’t stop thinking about the way you literally collapsed right in front of me at the hospital. There was so much blood and then at Amber’s—the blood on your face from your broken nose—I thought you’d been shot in the head for a second when I saw you lying in the living room.” Sam wipes at a stray tear without breaking eye contact. “And then you stood up to Richie for me, a-and I thought, this is it. He really is going to kill you now, but then he didn’t. He just kneed you in the stomach, but in my dreams h-he shoots you. Every. Single. Time. He shoots you right in front of me and I—“ She lets out a shaky breath, “—I just can’t bear the thought of losing you. . . Not after everything we’ve been through. Not before I can fix things between us.”

I swallow the growing lump in my throat and reach for one of her hands, taking it in mine and squeezing it gently. “You’re not going to lose me.”

She shakes her head and sniffles. “You don’t know that. Ghostface could come back, or-or you could get into another accident.”

I sigh and look away. She’s right, but the fear of what could happen shouldn’t stop us from living our lives. “I know, but the chances of either of those things happening again are slim to none, sooo you have all the time in the world to make things up to me,” I joke quietly, which makes her chuckle sadly.

I know I said I wasn’t mad anymore, but that was when I thought we were literally going to die. Now, I can’t say I’m still mad, but she does have to prove that she wants to be in my life again— that I can trust her and rely on her again.

She interlaces our fingers and lifts my hand to press a kiss to my knuckles which makes me freeze. “I will make it up to you,” she whispers, moving closer to tracing the index finger of her other hand over the bruised bridge of my broken nose and around the edges of my black eyes. Her touch is gentle and makes my skin tingle, and I instantly miss it when she lowers her hand again.

“I promise, I will make it up to you,” she says again, but this time her tone is different. There’s more conviction in her voice and she looks as serious as I’ve ever seen her. Her eyes are practically boring into mine and the intensity of it all makes me look away nervously. “Listen, about what Richie said. . .”

I tense. Oh no, here it comes. . .

Why did you never say anything? How long have you felt like this? I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel the same way about you.

I can already imagine all the things she’s going to say, but then she surprises me by going on.

“About my visions of Billy. . .” She cringes and looks away right as I look at her again. She keeps our fingers interlaced, but leans back a little as though she needs the space to think clearly.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” I reassure her, seeing that it’s making her uncomfortable, but she shakes her head and looks at me again.

“No, I really do. You invited me to stay with you, so the least I can do is tell you what you’re dealing with,” she says and it almost sounds like she’s afraid of herself.

I want to tell her that I’m not dealing with anything while she’s here, but she looks like she really wants to say her part, so I stay quiet.

“I started seeing visions of Billy after I found out he was my real father,” she whispers, her grip on my hand tightening. “And it scared me so much, but I didn’t go see a therapist until years later, after I left. . . I was prescribed some antipsychotics, and for a while they worked, and I stopped seeing him, but lately they haven’t been working anymore.”

I can’t imagine how scary that must be. My aunt— my father’s sister—was bipolar before she died of cancer a couple of years ago, so I kind of know what a struggle it can be to have mental health issues, but I can’t fathom seeing visions of my dead serial killer father.

“I don’t know how to make them stop because I’m already taking some pretty hardcore pills. It’s like— I see him in the mirror, or any other reflective surface, a-and he talks to me, like an embodiment of all my intrusive thought but I- I promise you I’d never hurt you or Tara because of him. It’s just draining and— I’m sorry. . .” Her breath hitches and she disconnects her hand from mine to press the heels of her palms against her watering eyes.

She’s shaking and crying quietly, and the sight of it breaks my heart, so I get to my feet and pull her into a hug.

“Don’t apologize,” I say softly, feeling a little of my worry fade when Sam wraps her arms around my waist to hug me back. She slides off her chair to stand as well and buries her face against the side of my neck.

“I just feel so awful, you’ve got enough to deal with, the last thing you need is me dropping all this shit on you. I have no right to just come back into your life and—“

“Nu uh,” I cut her off. “What role you play in my life is up to me to decide. We’re far from being okay, but I still care about you and I want you to know that I’m here for you, got it?”

“I can’t just—“

“Got it?” I cut her off quietly, squeezing her in my arms, or well, just arm since my right one is still in the sling.

Sam sighs, but finally caves, nodding again my neck and tightening her hold on me. “I don’t deserve you. . .”

“Maybe not yet, no, because what you did really hurt me, but I’m still here and I’m not going anywhere,” I say honestly, allowing her to pull back and look up into my eyes.

My heart flips in my chest at her intense gaze, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth slightly parted as if she’s about to say something.

Nothing comes out however and we just stand like that for a couple of moments, staring at each other and relishing in the other’s warmth.

That is until a scream makes us pull apart. My eyes widen and for a second my heart drops, but then I relax again when I realize what’s happening.

Tara.

Sam, however, looks alarmed, her eyes wide and she goes to grab a knife from the knife block on the kitchen island.

“No, wait.” I grab her wrist mid reach and pull her with me. She looks flabbergasted, probably thinking why I’m so calm, but when we get to the guest bedroom, realization seems to dawn on her and her face softens at the sight of Tara thrashing on the bed with her eyes closed.

I let go of her wrist and quickly move to Tara’s side. “Hey, Sprout, wake up, it’s me.” I grab one of her flailing arms and shake her a little. “Wake up.”

Tara whimpers in her sleep and furrows her eyebrows, so I shake her again.

“Tara!”

That snaps her out of her dream and she shoots up, clutching at her chest with wide eyes.

“Hey, it’s me. You’re okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.” I let go of her arm and rub my hand up and down her back as Sam cautiously approaches the bed.

She takes a seat on Tara’s other side and gently takes her bandaged hand into her own.

Tara looks between us with teary eyes and closes her eyes for a moment, catching her breath.

“It all felt so real,” she whispers.

“I know,” I say quietly, sharing a sympathetic look with Sam over her head. “But it wasn’t. You’re here and you’re okay.“

Tara sniffles and opens her eyes again. She looks at me first, then at Sam before letting out a shaky breath while nodding.

“A-Are you going to be okay?” Sam asks gently, shuffling a little closer until she’s sitting next to Tara with her back resting against the headboard.

“I—“ Tara swallows thickly,”— Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m just a little shaken, that’s all.”

Sam doesn’t look convinced, but accepts her answer and presses a kiss to the back of her head. “Is there anything I can do to help? Do you want to watch something, or do you want some tea?”

“Can you just stay?” Tara asks with pleading eyes, glancing at me before adding, “Both of you?”

I glance at Sam and when she nods faintly, I agree. “Of course. Move over.”

Tara shuffles to the middle of the bed and lifts the comforter so I can lie down next to her while Sam slips under the comforter on her other side.

Tara grabs Sam’s arm and wraps it around her stomach so she’s being held from behind before placing her head on my shoulder.

“Good?” I ask as soon as she’s settled and she nods with a content sigh.

Sam and I share another look over her head and when I see the care and gratitude in her eyes I send her a soft smile.

We’re going to be okay.

“What’s all this?” I ask the next morning, walking into the kitchen where Tara’s sitting at the kitchen island and Sam is standing over the stove.

Soft music is playing from a speaker and it smells delicious and when my eyes land on the stack of pancakes in front of Tara I know why.

“Sam is making pancakes!” Tara grins and plucks a blueberry from her plate into her mouth.

“I can see that.” I chuckle and take a seat next to Tara, smiling when Sam shyly slides a cup of coffee in front of me. “Thank you.”

“They’re chocolate chip,” Tara muses around a mouthful of food.

I raise an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“The pancakes,” she clarifies which makes my eyes snap to the stack of pancakes in front of her.

No. That can’t be. Surely Sam doesn’t remember such a trivial little—

“Your favorites.”

My eyes snap back up and I find Sam smiling hesitantly.

“At least, I hope they still are,” she adds, scratching her neck awkwardly.

Amazed, I nod dumbly which makes her perk up and finish plating the rest of the pancakes. She joins Tara and me at the kitchen island and hands me my own plate.

“Thanks,” I whisper, taking a careful bite of the pancakes and feeling my heart warm at the nostalgic feeling that washes over me. We used to make these pancakes all the time when she’d sleep over, and right now it’s the first time I’m having them since she left. I just couldn’t bring myself to make them without her.

Sam steals a couple glances every now and then while we eat and smiles when I finish my entire stack of pancakes in less than five minutes.

“Oh, by the way,” Tara says after a while, grabbing a stack of envelopes from the chair next to hers. “I got your mail out of the mailbox for you.”

I take a sip of coffee and take them from her with a hum, skimming my eyes over them, only mildly interested.

Most of them are ads or bills, but one catches my attention and I’m quick to open it and read it.

No way. . .

My eyes widen at what it says, and I re-read it a couple of times before Tara notices my stunned silence and asks what’s going on.

“A scout from a hockey team in Boston was at one of our recent games and now they want to sign with me,” I answer quietly, still in shock.

I never expected this. I want to play professionally one day, yes, but I was actually planning on finishing my degree first.

“What?” Tara grabs the letter from me and reads it as well with wide eyes before looking back up. “This is— This is great!”

I frown and take the letter back. “Yeah. . . I guess.”

It is great that they want me on their team, but I can’t just drop everything here and move all the way across the country to Boston. Not only because of my degree but also because of Tara, and now, Sam.

“You guess?” Tara pokes my arm, excited. “What do you mean? This is everything you ever wanted!”

I glance at Sam to find her already looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and wistfulness.

“Yeah, but—“

“But what?” Tara butts in, waving the letter for emphasis. “This is your chance to get out of here and finally do what you’ve always dreamed of. How can you have second thoughts about it?”

Again, I look at Sam, but she’s no longer looking at me. She’s pushing a piece of pancake around on her plate, seemingly lost in thought.

We both know that if I go to Boston it will be incredibly difficult to fix our friendship.

I just got her back. I can’t just leave now, but then again, Tara is right. I’ve always wanted to get out of here after my parents died.

“I can’t— I mean— The semester just started— A-And you. . . I can’t leave you alone,” I splutter. I’m so overwhelmed with feelings, I don’t know what to say.

On one hand, this really is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I really want to go, but on the other hand, I don’t want to leave Tara, or Sam. They need me, especially Tara, and I don’t want to leave Liam and Paige behind either.

“But I’m not alone,” Tara counters with a gentle smile and nudges Sam. “I’ve got this one back now and I’m sure you can move your classes online or something.”

“Tara—“

“She’s right.” Sam cuts in, looking up from her plate. There��s a sad smile playing on her lips, but she seems just as resolved as Tara. “You should go. This is your life we’re talking about, and it seems like it’s high time you start living it.”

My mouth snaps shut and I stare at both of them with furrowed eyebrows for a couple of moments before giving in. “Okay.”

Looks like I’ll be moving to Boston.

_______________________________________________

Hi everyone!

I know this is a bit of a filler chapter, but it had to be written to bridge the gap between the fifth and the sixth movie.

Anyway, happy holidays! ❤️

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23

P.S. If you like this story I highly recommend you check out @persevereforahappyending ‘s No Man’s Land. It’s a great read.

[chronicowboy]

several sentence sunday

new fic is finished but it's not very christmassy so i'm going to wait a while before posting it. thought i'd give you a little sneaky peek to wet your whistle as it were:

He hits call. A ring. Two. Three. Four. Fi—

"Eddie?" Buck's voice rasps through the line, scratching some invisible itch deep in his gut. "A-are you okay?"

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Eddie asks, frowning. Hadn't even thought about the time, just thought about Buck and how he should be right there on the couch for Eddie to throw his legs over his lap. How his big hands should be burning through the material of Eddie's jeans as they share their final beer of the night.

"Yeah, but that's okay." A rustle. Eddie closes his eyes and imagines him sitting up in bed, curls adorably sleep rumpled. "Are you okay?"

"I'm grrrrreat," Eddie slurs, laughing to himself. "Tony the Tiger great."

"Are you drunk?" Buck asks, a little laugh in his voice. Eddie grins, triumphant.

"On victory!" Eddie basks in Buck's next chuckle like a cat finding the perfect ray of sun. "I won trivia night because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Mhm. Remembered all your facts. Giraffes hum. The universe is beige. The Moon will never leave the Earth even if The Moon is drifting away right now." Buck's breath hitches, something hurt in the sound. Eddie frowns, wants to chase away that hurt until he can live in the back of Buck's throat instead. It'd be warm. Buck would keep him safe there. "We got a hundred dollar bar tab!"

"We, huh?" Buck pries, gentle, quiet.

"Mhm. Morgan. The probie from work. Don't worry," Eddie rushes to add. "She's not best friend material. Just took pity on me for the night." He sighs. "I miss you."

"Eddie," Buck croaks. Another rustle. Another voice thick with sleep.

"Evan?" they mumble.

Eddie freezes all the way down to the breath in his lungs, lays there on the couch stock still, lungs burning, eyes wide.

"Is that Tommy?" he asks before he can think better of it. Buck lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

"No. No. Um, one second." His voice drifts, "I'll be back," and Eddie realises he's making that promise to whoever's lying next to him in bed, not Eddie. But that means Buck isn't going anywhere for now. Eddie gets to keep him whilst the stranger languishes alone in his bed. Buck never left him alone in that bed during quarantine. Not once. He listens to the pad of Buck's feet as he goes downstairs, the whoosh of the balcony door sliding open and closed again. "Just some guy I met at a bar."

"Oh." Eddie nods to himself, pursing his lips. "Sorry for interrupting."

"No, that's o-okay," Buck replies, voice unreadable. "You weren't really interrupting, Eddie. We were asleep."

"Right." Eddie nods again. Then, the words just fall out of his mouth. "Probably tired after... Y'know."

"Eddie." Buck takes a deep breath. "You okay?"

"Do you miss me?"

@danielsousa @jjudaslips @butchdiaz @outdiaz @shitouttabuck @poughkeepsies @saryasy @team-118 @that-sounds-mighty-oof-to-me @ambitiousbutrubbish @iamaniamscat @freetreasures @inell @chaoticlava101 @dangerpronebuddie @jacobglaser @doggirlbuck @rainbow-nerdss @faggotjonesss @unsteadylilactree @4thbrighteststar @laurenttheninth @missing-tony @eddiebabygirldiaz @try-set-me-on-fire (please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!)

[machisneedle]

hiiii! can I request some hcs (fluff + smut) for chrollo (or any other troupe members) if they have a husband/wife from meteor city (who he grew up with)?

im just rlly tired of ppl constantly making the pt k!snap their s/o’s tbh😕

ty!!!!!

Ofc I can !! <3 also I agree with the kidnapping part , I struggle to find good troupe content that isn't grr yandere zaddy kidnaps you. No hate to those who like that though !

phantom troupe members w a S/O they grew up with !! 🕷️ྀི` .

✧ characters in this are chrollo , feitan , shalnark , pakunoda

✧ content : headcanon format , fluff , smut / not safe for work content , fingering , oral , p in v ( chrollo , feitan , shalnarks part) , angst / death on pakus , also I don't really know how to write male or gn reader so I just did fem !! I hope that's ok.

!! Minors, please do not interact with this post !!

Chrollo 🕷️ྀི` .

✧ growing up with chrollo before the incident with Sarasa's death would be quite sweet tbh , staying up late together , talking about finding new tapes to perform and dub over. You were always a constant in his life , which was comforting for him.

✧ after the trauma of Sarasa's death , It just made him need you around him more. that need for you to be safe lasts into his adult years. This man is so protective of you , not in a cliche get away from my girl type way , no its in the way that your safety is on his mind alot. Especially with the line of work he's in. Probably keeps a troupe member with you at most times when he's not home , just in case.

✧ with the fact you grew up together , you already knew the troupe before it existed , so it would be something he couldn't really hide from you.

✧ I'm a firm believer in that chrollo is suffering from insomnia or some disorder that is similar. like this man is never asleep first when you're both in bed , when he finally puts his book away to sleep you can feel his arms snake around your waist as he breathes in your nostalgic scent. He doesn't get many times to relax nor to be so close to you due to the troupe, but he enjoys these moments more than anything , It brings him back to a simpler time.

✧ you both visit meteor City quiet abit (i'd also like to think you got married there) , seeing you pass out new clothes and food to the kids who live there warms his heart , it makes him remember why he fell for you in the first place.

✧ you were his first time and the only woman he wants to pleasure. I feel like growing up with him makes being intimate just that much more passionate , he fucks you like he might never see you again (which is a possibility If he isnt careful enough with protecting you , the reality makes his heart ache.) . Whispering the dirtiest but softest praises into your ear , acting like he isn't making you moan so loud under him , your voice might give out.

✧ this man eats pussy SO well , after the first time he eats you out your just stunned for a second , like what magic did this man just cast on your pussy to make you feel this good. He probably read a book about it or something. Also defo would eat you out because he likes it not for anything in return , your needs come first for him.

✧ about seeing you helping out the kids in meteor City thing I mentioned. when your home be ready. He doesn't have a breeding kink , but the thought of you taking care of his child and doing motherly activities makes him so happy he can't help but want to get you pregnant the second you close the front door. Get ready for a long night , he has stamina , and he won't be stopping till you're absolutely full of his loads. He'd whisper to you how "I should of done this so much sooner , my darling" or "feeling you this raw is pure bliss... like I'm fully claiming you in body and mind."

✧ 100% into cock warming you while reading a book. No one will change my opinion.

Feitan🕷️ྀི` .

✧ when you first met him , he avoided you like the plague. Honestly , at first you thought he hated your guts. Whenever you hung out with him and his friends , he'd refuse to reply to you but he didn't mean it in a rude way he just didn't want to embarrass himself around you because of how bad his english was.

✧ phinks eventually told you why he wouldn't talk to you , which made you feel somewhat bad ? To communicate with him for a while , you used a pen and some paper you found in the garbage heeps writing down what you said to help him learn some English.

✧ the first time hearing his voice is SHOCKING , he wrote down how he didn't want to because it sounded bad but you thought his voice was soothing which you told him , making him a bit more comfortable around you.

✧ As he grew up , he got more reserved but you didn't care sticking to him like glue , he could complain as much as he wanted saying you where wasting your time being around him or that it's too dangerous for you to stick with him but his words never held any malice more concern that you would get hurt by something or his actions but he'd never admit to having such 'weak' thoughts.

✧ like chrollo , he's another protective boy , but he doesn't trust anyone else with protecting you but himself. Would break someone's neck for looking at you in a way he didn't like , oh and don't even get me started if someone tries to hit on you because they think he's just some short loser who got lucky... let's just say later that night you will hear some screaming coming from the basement (aka where he does his work).

✧ you definitely know about the troupe , he's probably the only one who will outright tell you before you can ask. I mean , he literally tortures people... when you move in together , he literally can't hide it , so he's just honest with you. Another thing if the screams from the basement freak you out and you complain he probably will be grumpy about it , but he will line the walls down there to make it not as loud.

✧ for feitan knowing him from childhood will 100% be the easiest way for him to be comfortable around you , feitan just doesn't like people to be honest but your company is actually enjoyable for him.

✧ another cute thing I can imagine is him trying to teach you his native language like you taught him some English. You telling him you love him in his native tongue... the things that does to him.

✧ both of your firsts times are with each other. Honestly , sometimes you doubt he would have ever even had sex if it wasn't for you. Your first time was... not the best because you both had no idea what to do really , but after that mess of a first time , he definitely went to chrollo or phinks for advice. Another thing is not to make fun of him for it , it would really hurt his ego and he'd probably avoid you for a couple weeks.

✧ he is still a total sadist don't get me wrong but with you he's softer , he can't bring himself to hurt you alot. The worst he can do is bite you or slap you , anything else makes him feel icky because it reminds him of his work too much. He still finds your tears really hot though , and will overstim you just to see them.

✧ the first time he finger you , it was surprising how good he was with his hands (for a torturer , I guess you have to be). He's so unfair when he fingers you , he hits spots so deep you see colours then he'll pull back just near your climax saying he didn't say you could finish yet with a dumb smirk on his face as tears threaten to fall from your pathetic looking eyes.

✧ probably doesn't want kids even if you knew him that long his opinion wouldn't change , if you asked he'd say "no. I dont like kids" but really , he didn't mind kids he just didn't want to bring more kids into a world like this.

✧ super random but has eaten you out in your period before , he doesn't think it's a big deal... like he's around blood everyday ? What difference does it make.

Shalnark 🕷️ྀི` .

✧ he definitely mocked and teased you a lot when you were younger. Stealing your shoes when you where acting on the stage with everyone else or messing up your cute braids in your hair , but he never meant it in a mean way , it was his weird way of showing he liked you.

✧ probably the only one out of the guys to realise he had a crush on you as a kid , would cope by being even more of a little shit to you till he went to far one day and actually upset you , which led to admitting he was only mean to you because he had a silly little crush.

✧ this man is sooo clingy to you , he gives pathetic vibes like you can't leave this mf alone for a couple hours without getting messages like , 'babeeee I miss you (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )' and 'come homeeee pretty please ? ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡' (yes I believe he uses emoticons). When he's busy on troupe work he's calling you every hour it feels like , feeding you some lies about being on a work trip.

✧ he wouldn't be honest about the troupe with you. You know all the members as you grew up with them , but he thought leaving you in the dark was better. If you asked too many questions , he'd probably tell you you're being delulu. he doesn't want to lie to you but your safety is too important to him and he knows he isn't like feitan and chrollo , he can't always protect you.

✧ he's not yandere , but he is a bit obsessed with you , having cameras in the rooms in his house so he can watch you when he's lonely on a mission. He wouldn't take advantage of the fact he can see you without you knowing , if you started to change clothes or something , he'd turn the screen off. If he wanted to see you naked he'd literally just ask for nudes or look at old pics you sent him.

✧ your first time was... Good ? Shalnark actually knew what to do , mostly from how much porn he's watched to prepare for the day he finally got to do it. Side note he also made you finish during your first time.

✧ he's such a service top when he doms , he struggles to tease you because of how needy for him you sound , can you blame him though when you look so pretty under him ?

✧ whenever he is busy on work for the troupe but he misses you , he always ends up calling you even if you're in public , whispering sweet praises into your ear through the phone asking you to go to somewhere private because he misses you. "Baby... please ? It's been a week and I'm so needy for you" his whiney voice would beg at you , he was too cute to deny.

✧ he loves seeing you in really girly lingerie. It makes you look so innocent that he feels bad for having such perverse thoughts about you.

Pakunoda 🕷️ྀི` .

✧ while you were trying to catch an injured kitten to help it , crawling over the heep of trash it ran over , you saw a blonde young girl you soon learned who's name was pakunoda holding it , softly stroking its fur as it snuggled up into her. Her caring and nurturing personality has been known since the day you met her.

✧ you two were like two peas in a pod , always cheering her on in the audience when she was on stage with the rest of her friends acting out the tapes. It was so silly , but you both had made a pinky promise that when you grew up you would get married.

✧ after Sarasa's death , she abandoned you to focus on the troupe. She left you with a kiss on the cheek and a "I promise when we grow up , I'll find you... and I won't stop till I do." Being forced out as she looked at your form , hands shaking tears forming and soft begs for her not to leave.

✧ you had no clue how she did it but after you left meteor City and moved to yorknew she found you , waiting for her felt like waiting for glue to dry and when she came back she refused to ever leave you again.

✧ she isn't possessive I'd say , but she does sometimes check your memories to make sure you don't do anything bad when she isn't around. She doesn't worry about your safety as much as the others also because no one knows your her s/o but you both.

✧ she told you about the troupe after you demanded an explanation for her leaving you , though she didn't explain her nen ability to you yet mainly just because she doesn't think you're ready for that.

✧ got you a cat called ophelia , it reminds her of how you both first met and she also likes for you to have company when she's busy.

✧ you weren't each others first times , but with how loving and passionate it felt like it was your first time , you would never forget the feeling of her nails running down your spine as she whispered sweet nothings into your ears , leaving lipstick marks on your jaw.

✧ she doesn't like strap-ons , Likes to think her hands and mouth are enough to make you fulfilled , but if you ask her to use a vibrator on you she wouldn't mind.

✧ LOVES when you sit on her face , her nose is built for grinding on as she eats you out. If you were worried about crushing her , she'd spend a good couple minutes lecturing you about your weight was nothing to her and if she did 'die' being crushed by you , it would be a perfectly fine death for her in her mind.

✧ you would only learn about her nen ability when she found out she was the one to have to go get the boss. She had called you after telling the troupe about you , then explained the situation , asking you to go to the location of the troupes base incase this was the last time she could contact you.

✧ after she got kurapikas chain around her heart , she already knew her fate. After the deal went well getting the boss back , she came to the troupes base. Your wet eyes looked at her as you ran to her , falling to your knees , hugging waist. She felt guilty knowing what she was about to do. she ended up using a memory bullet on you instead of one of the troupe members , you deserve an explanation after you spent most of your life waiting for her.

✧ after her death , you kept her gun , keeping it as your last reminder of her you could bare to keep around yourself. Every once in a while , someone in the troupe would send u a message from a random number to see if you were okay the first year after. You were also set for life as everything she had went to you , but it never filled that hole in your heart.

✧ that promise of marriage never happened , huh ?

Omg I got abit carried away on pakus LOL. But I hope you enjoy <3

[gamerexdrex]

"Hey! Let me go you oversized lizard!" Screamed the farmer, struggling against your grip.

Honestly, if it wasn't to prove to the stuck ups at the council, you would have never bothered even looking twice at this human, much less putting up with her screeching; but alas, sacrifices must be made for your tesis.

But it's damn hard when the human has been biting at your fingers. You are not sure why she thought it was a good idea, it has only been bothering you and might hurt her teeth.

When you finally, FINALLY, make it to the old castle, your are about ready to sleep a hundred years; but it isn't the time! You need! To teach! The human!

You land on the patio of the castle, with plenty of space for practice, and gently put the raving human down.

"Listen human-"

WACK

The human somehow found a large stick in the five seconds you've been in this place and immediatly hit your eye.

You should have just horded gold like your mom

"Listen-"

WACK

"human-"

WACK

"do you-"

WACK

"want-"

WACK

"to learn-"

WACK

"magic"

She stops in her tracks, and looks at you confused. "Soooo you are not going to eat me"

Your eye twichs "If I wanted a meal, I would have eaten the king's whole army of horses"

"Oh"

There is a bit of awkard silence

"So when do we begin?" She beams

You smile

"When I finish taking a nap, give 5 minutes and we'll start."

.....

You scribble the runes yet again, and once again, nothing happens.

The dragon seems even more disappointed than before somehow.

"It should work now, I don't know how this is possible"

You stare and can't help but feel frustrated with yourself. it's supposed to work, you two have been trying up until sundown.

It's probably your fault nothing happens.

You can hear the dragon's voice above you "let's take a break, shall we? Maybe when our heads are clear, we'll find a solution"

You wonder if the dragon is either very positive or very stubborn

After a fire and a couple of sheep the dragon got from...somewhere for dinner, you stare at the stars. You don't think you've seen this constelations before

"I'm sorry"

You turn to the dragon, surprised.

"I brought you here against your will, told you I would teach you magic, and we have yet to get a reaction from the runes" He lowers his head "So I apologise little human"

After a moment of shock, you smile sadly "It's alright, I guess I just wasn't cut out for this"

"Don't say that human; acording to my research, every human has the capacity to channel magic; and we did everything right"

You bite your cheek "If you say so" you look over the runes "what does it say anyways?"

You don't notice the dragon freezing in place but you do notice when he speaks up

"What"

Confused, you turn to him "well, yes? I don't know what we are writing so..."

He stares some more "Isn't this common knowledge? There are books written by you humans! That's how I know you could do magic!"

Is your turn to stare

"Quick question, how are those books?"

"There are just a little over a hundred yea-" the dragons stops and, after processing the imformation a bit, slams his head on the ground.

"I forgot to account human ages, of course I did"

You sit besides the dispairimg dragon "Soooo I assume meaning and understaning are important for magic"

"Mhm" He answers, head still on the ground "We've been writing the true names of spirits and powerful beings. You summon or imbude the strenght of those entities by writing them on this language. But it only works if the entity is understood to be powerful."

You ponder for a bit, and run to grab your big stick

"Can you tell me your name?"

The dragon looks up "huh?"

"Or at leats how it would be written in that weird old language, I have an idea"

The dragon looks at you a bit more, shrugs, and begins writing on the ground with it's claw

You carve the runes on the stick, now with the understanding that this is the name of your teacher.

Once finished, you looked at the letters and something odd happens. They begin to shine.

You aim at the sky, and a blast of purple light comes out of the tip of it, so strong that it send you flying. You are caught by the dragon. The hairs of your neck are standing up.

There is silence

"Y-you did it"

"I did it"

"YOU DID IT"

"I DID IT"

You both begin to laugh, of delight, of satisfaction, of relief, of excitement.

You did it

The other dragons laughed when you shared your thesis that humans should be capable of learning magic. Infuriated, you fly off to capture a human and teach it the ways of magic.

[iatrophilosophos]

Hey I'm hearing uh. More, and more, and more buzz about GLP-1 agonists like ozempic from random ppl and healthcare providers alike and there's like a terrifying lack of lucidity abt it so I just wanna say, if you've heard some stuff and are curious:

Ozempic is a chemically-aided crash diet. That's it.

Like metformin, an older diabetes medication used off-label for weight loss, it's functioning as an appetite suppressant in this use-case. It's not magic; it's not changing how your body makes or uses fat; it just makes it less miserable to eat less. It is contraindicated by histories of disordered eating and should absolutely not be prescribed without a full screening for above-adequate food intake and nutrition *and* ongoing screening for adequate nourishment/malnutrition: this is broadly not happening.

I've also seen no indication that ozempic/GLP-1 agonists are any less likely to lead to weight cycling (w/o constant use) than a straight crash diet, or do anything meaningful to limit the known, significant health risks of weight cycling.

Nothing has changed:

The main things we know from a western scientific perspective about weight and weight loss are that 1) almost all people who lose significant weight gain it back and 2) weight cycling causes cardiovascular and metabolic health complications. Yall we aint even have strong evidence to suggest that weight loss is beneficial to health conditions associated with higher weights. This *should* point to Dr's never ever reccomending weight loss (we do know it can hurt, don't know it can help) but yknow we live in uhhhh fucking world.

We are possibly ripe for an aggressive intensification of anti-fat medical rhetoric, especially in pediatrics

Among the projections for an RFK FDA that ive gotten from folks i know in these fields is a renewed focus on childhood obseity and general military-style fitness. As the ozempic fad has already been ramping up, I'm kinda! concerned! about this being a major point of focus for the oncoming administration--i figure we're ripe for another mass diet craze associated with a wide variety of deaths anyway and that existing cultural+market inertia added to it being literally on the agenda spells some not great things. I really seriously reccomend paying extra attention to this area.

Clinics love ozempic because it's extremely popular and extremely profitable--i even know someone who's job was threatened for refusing to prescribe it. We already know that we cant trust doctors to be informed around weight or for the system to sound public alarms.

Obviously, people have the right to do whatever they want--but the disclosure just isn't there and people are being sold this stuff based on the idea it'll make them *healthier* and prevent disease. It can't and it won't.

If the claims here about weight in general are new to you, start here: (Don't love the title of the article, second the exasperation)

If you want to understand more about glp-1 agonists specifically, like, start with the Wikipedia article and do some googling it lays out the pharmacology in relatively plain language. Sry i ain't doing a buncha work to find citations ppl won't click; there's not a lot of good critical stuff out there that's actually published but it doesn't actually take a lot of reading up on critical weight science to form a critical take on the sources singing ozempics praises.

Peace, good luck, do whatever you want forever, maybe tell ur mom that this isn't any different from the disastrous weight loss fads of the 90s.

[lexirosewrites]

This has been in my brain for a HOT MINUTE so it will b long

A!Eddie & Corroded Coffin didn't make it in the rock n roll world, the band certainly tried but they all found tht it wasn't the fulfilling kind of work they wanted or needed. So one by one they all ended up moving away from California some of them went back to the midwest.

B!Gareth left first, he'd found a passion for teaching after taking on a few tutoring jobs to pay the bills so after a lot of talking he went back to school in Indianapolis where he could b near family. A!Freak went as far as they could without needing a passport & moved to NYC where they built a fulfilling & even successful career in the Broadway circuit as a musician. Jeff & Eddie ended up leaving together, even staying together as roommates briefly in Portland bc going back to the midwest felt almost like giving up completely but when Jeff's dad passed away he went home to Indiana for the funeral & just didn't come back, Eddie wasn't resentful abt it he was even ecstatic for A!Jeff when he got a call a half a yr later where Jeff told him he'd moved to Chicago & found work w the USPS tht gave him time to volunteer in an after school program teaching guitar. Eddie stayed in Portland working in a mechanic shop till Gareth invited all of them to watch him walk the stage to accept his teaching degree.

It was a touching reunion for everyone & after a lot of drinks Eddie admitted he hated Portland & admired how Gareth & Jeff were shaping the minds of tomorrow & was proud of Freak for the career they'd built in NYC. In the end, Eddie ended up hopping around the couches of his bandmates in their different places in the country till he found work he enjoyed in Chicago as a line cook & he volunteered w Jeff till slowly but surely Eddie became a go to guy for the program to call & then a yr later the director of the program said she was recommending him to a teaching position at the fancy after school youth art institute her friend ran. Jeff had turned down the position when she'd asked bc the pay wasn't much better & he enjoyed his work w the USPS

Eddie gets a job at this youth art institute & he thrives. He still volunteers & through his efforts the art institute expands their scholarship program. He meets one of the ballet instructors, B!Chrissy, & they're fast friends even platonic soulmates some would say. When Eddie introduces Chrissy to Jeff at Eddie's birthday party in late June he was very unsubtle abt his matchmaking intentions & he was vindicated when they admit to him tht they're dating not even a month later.

When August arrives Chrissy starts talking abt preparing for auditions for The Chicago Ballets annual production of The Nutcracker, apparently the institute got to bring a number of students to audition for the roles reserved for children or teens along w other ballet schools of the city. The students of the ballet classes become even more serious in their lessons, many of them signing up for the one on one lessons offered specifically to prepare for the auditions. Eddie's favorite guitar student, O!Max, was best friends w 2 ballet students (B!El & A!Lucas) in a way tht was clearly developing into a romance btwn the 3 & so the one on one lessons he taught her became mostly her practicing chords while raving abt how hard the 2 were working, tht Lucas' dream was to one day b cast as the cavalier who dances w the sugar plum fairy & tht El hopes to one day b cast as the dew drop in the Waltz of the Flowers.

Two days before auditions the ballet students of the institute get visited by members of the Chicago Ballet Troupe. The youngest get to meet & interact w the dancers cast in roles that'll directly interact w them should they b cast. The teens get the most exciting visitors is the consensus Eddie picks up on, apparently it is somewhat tradition for the dancers cast as The Snow Queen, The Dew Drop, The Sugar Plum Cavalier & The Sugar Plum Fairy to visit w the teens. Chrissy gets a glint in her eye when she insists Eddie come along w them to dinner after classes because her friend from dance school is one of the cast members visiting the teens.

He walks into the restaurant, is led by Chrissy to the table practically overflowing w tall athletic bodies, & promptly plopped into the only remaining seat next to the most gorgeous male omega Eddie has ever laid his eyes on. Chrissy introduces him as Steve Buckley, the first male omega to b cast as The Sugar Plum Fairy in literally any major production of The Nutcracker put on by a major troupe. Eddie knows his eyes get gooey especially when he catches the briefest whiff of the sugar sweet scent tht resembles baked apples when Steve leans closer to hear him better over the noise of the restaurant.

A lot happens after auditions & during production, El is cast as one of the snowflakes & Lucas is cast as a party goer & toy soldier but he impressed the production team so well he was given the position of understudy to The Sigar Plum Cavalier. Steve & Eddie grow closer till they finally kiss after the final curtain of the annual production. Chrissy & Jeff move in together & after Chrissy gets pregnant Eddie is asked to b one of the witnesses when they go to the courthouse to register their bonding. Steve takes over for chrissy when she goes on maternity leave.

Four years later steddie have also bonded & Steve gives a final performance of The Nutcracker before retirement, he was honored to b cast as Sugar Plum one more time & to b there w Lucas as he debuted as not only an official dancer w the Chicago Ballet Troupe but as The Sugar Plum Cavalier. Steve would have stayed longer as a dancer but he wanted to b a mother & Ballet doesn't give much allowance for a dancer to b pregnant. So Steve takes the offer of a teaching job w the same youth art institute where chrissy & his mate work & steddie move to the same Chicago suburb as chrissy/Jeff when they officially begin trying for a baby

Joan Riot Munson is born at exactly noon the following year on the first day of the annual production of The Chicago Ballet's Nutcracker 🥰🩰

we love an omegaverse ballet AU!!!💕

(this is the last ask i have in my inbox for slick sunday, but if i see any come in while i’m out, i’ll try to answer and post!)

[howi99]

Ashen Knight 13

RK: *blinking* Could you repeat that, sir?

Jacques: I... Never wanted to marry Willow, Jaune. *Chuckle* Honestly, i thought for a long time you were seeing her.

RK: ... You never wanted to marry Willow? Didn't you say you love her?

Jacques: I- *sigh* Jaune, i'll be the most honest i've ever been in my life; i can't feel attraction to women.

RK: ... *Realising what Jacques just said* O-oh! I... Wasn't expecting that, sir.

Jacques: *sigh* I love seeing her smile and being happy, but i'm unable to love her as a husband. Oh and yes, Willow is aware of this. It would be difficult not to, considering all our kids were made in-vitro... *Looking at the window* I love them, i really do... And i wish for them to have something like the SDC of old to inherit.

RK: That's... Wow. But then, why didn't you divorce her?

Jacques: *sigh* After the death of her father, Willow never really recovered. She began drinking, more and more and the SDC was slowly fading into obscurity. I just... I wanted to bring it back. And the best way was to "marry" her.

???: Father?

Jacques: *looking up behind Jaune* Winter!? W-why are you here?! Shouldn't you be studying?

Winter: *entering the room sheepishly* I... I thought you hated us... You never spent time with us and the rare cases i tried talking to you about the company, you seemed angry...

Jacques: W-what!? No! How could i hate any of you! It's just that the company isn't doing great and... *Sigh* I'm unhappy. *Getting up, walking to Winter and putting a hand on her shoulder* But it never was your fault.

Winter: B-but when i asked if i could become a specialist-

Jacques: *grumble* I'm still not thrilled about that decision of yours. *Sigh* You have to understand; Specialist is a dangerous job and i don't want you to get hurt... Not because you are the heir, but because you are my daughter.

Winter: *looking at the ground* And when i asked about the faunus...

Jacques: About the faunus? When did you ask ke about them?

Winter: A-a year ago? It was during the big manifestation, y-you said they should be fed to the pigs! That they are lower than even animals!

Jacques: Fed to the... *Chuckle, then laugh* Winter, i wasn't talking about the faunus! I was talking about the council! *Shaking his head* I was wondering why you left so soon. Guess you didn't hear the beginning of my rants, eh?

Winter: *blinking* Whu... But i thought...

Jacques: Winter, i worked with faunus all my life. Heck, more than half of our staff are faunus and i think they aren't displeased... At least, i hope. *Look at Jaune*

RK: Only complaint they have are about the mines, but since i explained your side of the story, they have calmed down.

Jacques: *nod* Danke schön, Jaune... By the way, i wanted to ask why i found a Jackalope inside on my property.

Rk: *sweating* A Jackalope? Sir, those do not -

Jacques: *chuckle* You do know the kids love talking about their heroes, right?

RK: ... Since when-

Jacques: Second day, or well, when i first saw you in flesh and bones.

RK: ... I really need to find a way to hide her.

Jacques: You can use the old barn, nobody use it.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Trust

"Meet your new mates, cargo! Get breeding!"

I didn't understand the bellowed noises at the time. It was just incoherent gibberish. Heaped on top of what was likely a concussion, mixed with what ever drugs they had pumped me with. Thrown into a cell, roughly, and hitting the ground hard. I couldn't have caught myself if I had wanted too. My limbs, unresponsive and dragging meat, that I could barely FEEL.

Please, god, I had thought. Don't let me be paralyzed. Not on top of everything else.

They'll kill me.

Behind and around me, the weeping cries of sorrow and fear rang out. Screams of violence, born of desperation. Countless races, bound together, suffering in this hell. Newly enslaved. I didn't... I couldn't understand. Shaking and struggling to remain conscious, laying on the blood stained floor. The world swayed violently. It was all I could do, to barely keep from passing out.

It was so cold. The air, the floor, the deep and clawing despair, sinking like knives into my gut. Those furry... things, had grabbed me while I was alone, before I could react. W-would anyone notice? Could anyone DO anything? I wanted to get away from the door. Curl up in a corner and... and cry. But I could not move. Like a doll, dropped thoughtlessly on the floor, I could not... could not move.

Tears I likely could not afford, threatened to choke me.

I... I was scared.

Then, deeper in the hovel that was my new home, movement. The heavy clink of chains. Shifting, slow and careful, followed by the drag of metal. A warm hand. Fingers, calloused but careful, checking my neck. My pulse, for injury perhaps, I couldn't tell. But... god, i could have sobbed in relief. They... they felt human.

How terrible of me. That I was GLAD not to be alone. T-That it was relief, to have another person here. Someone who might know what's going on. What to do. To.. to stick with. I... I should wish it was just me, right? That they captured no one else? But... oh god. O-Oh God, I can't! I'm scared. Please. P-please...

I'm so scared.

The person checking me hummed low and soft. Their voice crackling like an old radio that's been left sitting on a shelf too long, unused. How.. how long has it been? Since they last had anyone to talk too? They sounded male, but.. but I didn't want to presume. Could just have a low voice. Throat injury. Might be Trans. I didn't care, couldn't care. I was pretty sure? We were all we had now.

They... no, He, found nothing alarming enough not to move me. Shifting into view as he gently slipped his arms under me. Enough to pick me up and carry me away from the door. He was... is... pretty handsome.

Okay, REALLY handsome.

Horrifically enough? I could see WHY they grabbed him. Athletic as hell, TV ready, really smart. If you were going to ignore ever bit of decency and morality to ever exsist? Might as well go for the best, I guess. Don't know why they grabbed ME, but I guess? They need a stand in or something? Or my predecessor is dead.

(God, I hope she's dead. The alternative...)

Pretty quickly became apparent, though, that one of the main problems (of so, SO many)? Was we don't actually speak the same language. Which... I mean... Well, shit. That's, putting it mildly, "less then ideal". Being unable to communicate with the only other person nominally on "My Side"? Kinda bad! But, I AM learning. And I am teaching him english! So there's that.

We have nothing but time, after all. It helps distract from the suffering just outside. The weeping and screams. The sounds that must be begging, in alien dialects. All the mercies they do not find.

(Is it terrible? That I am glad I can not understand what they are saying? Their cries for help? I can't help them. It hurts. Helpless to even save my self. God, I'm sorry. Please... I'm... I'm so sorry...)

Food gets shoved in. Lights flipped on. Lights shut off. The timer odd, but probably standard for somewhere. It's like being told to go to sleep halfway through the afternoon. Yanked awake before full nights are done. I struggle to adapt, even a little, following my fellow prisoner's lead. Or, well, trying too. There's a lot of charades at first.

Then, practicing our languages. Taking what naps and cuddling for warmth we can. Harsh lights be damned. It's cold, we're tired, but we have to keep our strength up. Right? Throughout it all, I try to ignore the weird smells they pump in. Still not used to getting random scents blasted at my head from above, from the air vents in the walls.

Day in, day out, rinse and repeate. The weird gasses smells like people have had sex, to be honest. I think? But don't quote me. They might be trying to get us to "mate", like animals, so they can sell our kids. Induce some nonexistent human heat cycle or something. I've kinda started to worry, not gonna lie, about what they'll do... you know, once they finally get frustrated. Figure out, we don't work like that.

Or... more relevantly, might not even be? Compatible?

Cause Azenari is DEFINITELY not a human. They fucked uuuup. Cause if he is? There is some probably serious divergent evolution going on. He did NOT get nabbed from Earth. HE got nabbed from his SHIP(as in, yeah, a fuckin Space Ship). Because HIS people are space faring! The man has pointy ears for fucks sake! Some seriously fangy canines. And while, yeah, seriously kinda cool? No idea if our species are related, or... you know...

So yeah, The Fur Covered Slaver Bastards are apparently Humanoid face blind, on TOP of being just generally terrible. Or dumb! Might be dumb, honestly. Wouldn't put it past them. Banality of evil and all that. But recently? There was a... tension. Something was coming. The Bastards seemed twitchy.

"Not long now, beloved. We're two stops from the extraction ambush." Azenari murmured, from where he was tucked loosely around me as I watch the latest patrol pass, one arm cradling me tight. Even as, with the other hand, he sleepily stroked my back. "You'll look lovely in proper robes. You deserve finery, my love."

I couldn't understand most of the sentence. Normally he simplified for me, since I was still learning. He seemed... pleased? Smug? The more tense and twitchy the Bastards got, the more darkly amused he seemed to become. As though he knew exactly why. As though he was laughing inside.

"My magnificent darling, you'll belong to me in everyway that matters. I'll take safer jobs. No more slave ring stings. I promise."

Oh. I think I got it. Azenari though of me as family! Yeah, that tracked. Trauma bonding and all. I did too. Couldn't help but smile, hugging him back, much to his clear delight. Yeah. We were in this together.

I'm glad I had someone I could trust. The universe was big and I would be pretty much alone without him. All but thrown at his feet and told I was his, Azenari had every chance to hurt me. But he didn't. He was a good man. Solid and stable when everything when frightening, warm and there when I needed to hide.

Really, it was only a matter of time before we would be chatting like old friends!

"You are NEVER going to escape me, beloved."

"I Love You."

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

I’m curious about your headcanons about avis? Sapphic ofc. ❤️

✨quick & dirty✨

SFW

Big fan of massages & bubble baths

Loves taking you out to theatres, opera, ballet, banquets, everything. She’s a show off.

Loves when you play with her hair and falls asleep quickly when you do it.

Likes having you on her lap when she reads (she has reading glasses) with your head on her shoulder and her hand on your back. Sometimes she’ll read to you.

Ice cream dates are also one of her favourites.

She’s highly sensitive to changes in your behaviour no matter how small. Ace’s long term infidelity has left her deeply insecure and mistrusting. She needs to be reassured of your love and desire for her daily and gets jealous easily.

High maintenance. Has complex morning and bedtime routines and will get up an hour earlier than you for it. When she’s done she’ll wake you with a gentle kiss to your temple.

During the day, she’s the one in charge. She’ll make sure you eat and drink enough. And she’ll buy you dresses and jewellery whenever something catches her eye.

She values your opinion but you’re not to question her in public. She wants the two of you to be a united front.

Cigarette sharing is another love language of hers.

Keeps you covered in her marks.

NSFW

She’s a sub. Because she carries so much responsibility in her daily life and she especially commands a lot of women, in bed, she wants to be dominated by them. (wrote her as dom in you don’t own me because it was requested)

LOVES taking strap. She’s addicted to it. She’ll even suck it. She’s got a whole drawer full of different shapes and sizes and buy new ones all the time.

Enjoys some light impact play. A bit of ass slapping when she’s taking the strap, a tail o nine across her tits.

Praise kink. She wants you to tell her how beautiful and perfect she is. Not necessarily with comments on her performance or “good girl” but more on her optics, reassurance that her beauty isn’t fading, wants her sex drive to be validated.

She will call you good girl in non sexual contexts and refer to herself as mama. Sometimes also during foreplay.

Doesn’t mind a bit of degradation within reason. She likes being called out on her high sex drive, be called a slut on occasion, but nothing too extreme.

Likes being tied up and surrender to whatever you have in store for her.

Blindfolds are also interesting to her.

Very sensual when she has the time. Scented candles, opera or jazz playing depending on her mood, fancy lingerie and extensive foreplay -> She wants to be appreciated. Wants you to touch her everywhere, admire her body, prepare her properly.

Quickies are needed when she’s stressed. She’ll call you to her office just for that.

Public sex is appreciated.

She’s loud and proud of it and she’ll try every trick in the book to coax those louder moans from you too.

Enjoys indulgence during sex in the manner that she’ll have fancy drinks ready, fruits, chocolate, anything. It should involve all senses. Will eat whipped cream from your 🐱

Masturbates a lot. She can’t get you out of her head. Also does it while you get yourself off on her thigh, she thinks it’s the hottest thing ever.

Scissoring with you on top is another fave of hers.

Squirter.