#these are both on my writing playlist now

[backfliips]

Answered below the cut:

How many fics have you worked on since January?

I've worked on 9 since January, one of which I'm still currently working on and will be working on for the next few months, probably.

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

A lot of things! I think the biggest one is alternating perspectives.

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

Baldur's Gate 3, obviously, haha.

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

Just the one, BG3.

What ships captured your heart?

Mostly Wyllstarion, but I also wrote Minscstarion and Halsin/Ulder Ravengard LOOOLLLL..... crack ships taken seriously are so good to me

What characters captured your heart?

Wyll mostly, and also Astarion.

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

Yes, all of the ones I've listed so far! The newest ones were Minscstarion and Ulsin LOOL I sort of was the flagship for both of those.

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What's Become of You, because that was the first long-form creative writing project I've ever done! I'd only done short stories before then, and then I sat down and churned out a novel-length fanfiction. it meant a lot to me to know that it was something I'm capable of.

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

Probably also What's Become of You, but all of the fics I've written have made me super happy. If they didn't make me happy, I wouldn't write them. Right now, the fic I'm working on (titled "Sorry For Your Loss") is really making me excited too, but I won't be posting it for a while.

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

Again, What's Become of You.

What fic was the most difficult to write?

The one I'm currently working on. Where What's Become of You basically already had a whole plot outline because it just follows the entire plot of BG3, Sorry For Your Loss is far more original and has required SO much outlining and re-outlining and re-re-re-outlining, and I've redone so many chapters from the ground up because I wasn't happy with them. It's been a real challenge, but it's one that I'm really excited to keep conquering >:^)

What fic was the easiest to write?

Keep Talking, for sure. That one's just brainless smut. Of course, that's made it my most popular wyllstarion fanfiction HAHAHAHAHA.... but that's how these things go.

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

Shortest was Keep Talking, longest was What's Become of You.

What were your go-to writing songs?

The "deep focus" playlist on spotify hahahahaha I can't listen to stuff with lyrics much when I'm writing, and a lot of other background songs end up distracting me. Honestly, 75% of the time I'm just writing in silence.... or to the sound of a busy crowd. (Don't worry, I don't write anything NSFW in public.)

What was the hardest fic to title?

Health Potions (Or: If Only Someone Here Knew Cure Light Wounds). That one was a toss up, and as you can see, I still couldn't choose between two titles lmao

What's your favorite title of the year?

Probably A Haughty Spirit (Goeth Before a Fall) because that's a bible verse I chopped up and that just cracks me up a little bit. I have the title for an eventual sequel planned if I ever write it, which would be "To Be Humble (In Spirit with the Lowly)."

Share your favorite opening line

Do chapter opening lines count? Here's a sneak peek from Sorry For Your Loss.

Share your favorite ending line

Another chapter ending line from Sorry For Your Loss.

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

"He was the best-dressed homeless man in the city. Of this he was sure."

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

While working on my latest fic, a certain conversation went in a totally different direction than I planned, but I ended up really liking how it turned out. I had to go back to the drawing board for a couple things later in the story because of it, but I think it's way better this way.

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

Google Drive mostly. I like to write things on paper when I'm outlining, or when I'm feeling stuck. It keeps me from deleting things, and I care less about getting it Perfect that way.

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Finishing What's Become of You, definitely.

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

No, I wanted to get a cake for What's Become of You, but I had plans that day and that ended up being fun enough that I didn't feel the need to get a cake.

How did you recharge between fics?

Laying on the floor. I don't actually have a recharge method, I just write when inspiration strikes me.

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

Oh, yes. So much fanart lmao.

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

Just one! Wyllstarion Secret Solstice event, but I did art instead of writing for that one.

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

@foxflowering definitely!! She really helped me improve my writing so much and she was such a fantastic editor for What's Become of You.

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Keep writing Sorry For Your Loss, really.

What would you like to write next year?

I want to finish Sorry For Your Loss and do a couple more short-form Wyllstarion pieces. I have ideas! Lots of ideas!!!!

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[pinkshortbread]

Can you write some NSFW headcanons about Daisuke and Curly 😭🙏🏿

Thank you so much for your patience, your request had been waiting for a whole week in the ask box. 😔

Spicy headcanons under the cut. ❤️

[Curly Headcanons] - NSFW 💫

Body Type.

Soft Giver / Service and Pleasure Top.

I feel like Curly doesn't have a clue about how big he is down there. He is packed but it's just an average dick, right ? Right ? Oh.

This guy, so affectionate, when he is giving you in missionnary he doesn't hesitate to handle your head so you don't hurt yourself against the wall.

Clearly into you touching his ass during the act, he loves it. Dude has a whole bakery and he wants you to know it.

A lot of praising during the act such as "You're so pretty, taking my cock like this..." "Don't worry about it, you're perfect." "Mh... I like the way you look like right now..."

Has a thing about size difference, loving the way you look so breedable and soft under him. It makes him go feral.

When you two can't do the act, especially when he is working in the cockpit and too busy for him to give you his dick, he pats his thighs so you can sit on his lap and asks you to give some space for his hand into your pants while he checks on the screen and dashboard. And that's on the finger-orgasm not too late after that.

Can be rough ONLY if you ask him to. That can be rare but when he does, he is fond of hearing the sound of his balls slapping against your ass while you sing his name with your tongue out.

[Daisuke Headcanons] - NSFW 🌺

Body Type.

Soft Giver / Noisy Switch / Leaning to Sub Top.

(Cis Daisuke) -> I feel like Daisuke is a little bigger than average, his dick is slightly curved upward when he's hard it's very very useful. :)

(Trans Daisuke for a friend 😘) -> I feel like Daisuke has a t-dick, he still takes his testosterone shots monthly on the Tulpar. Heard about many close friends that T makes you very horny, so...

Sit on his face. He adores the warm feeling growing into his chest when he looks up at you while you cry his name as you ride onto his tongue. It makes him smirk between your legs.

Daisuke has a playlist for sex, nothing too cliché but he does like to cover up the noises you both could make.

Has a thing about overstimulation, even though he looks like he is hurt, oh god he loves it and pleas for it.

"Baby, please..." "I've been a good boy, please please please..."

Messy guy, messy with you and makes a mess. Everything's stickyyyy. <3

No place around the Tulpar is safe, you guys did it everywhere. "Babe, I know it's not the moment but I was thinking about the lounge-" "I was WAITING for you to say that, let's go."

[clarkeybabey]

❝ but i'ma be under the mistletoe with you ❞

# prompts; 6: "They kiss under the mistletoe." 7: ^ but A does the, "Oops, I'm holding mistletoe above us, guess we have to kiss." thing.

# playlist; mistletoe - Justin Bieber

# word count; 737

# note; merry christmas to all who celebrate, & Happy Holidays to those who don't<333 i missed writing for arthur so much omg.

The holidays are always a stressful time, however, more than half of your family was abroad for Christmas this year, so you all had chosen to do your family celebrations on New Year instead. Arthur and Lisa were more than happy to have you with them instead.

You spent the morning making and eating a full English, exchanging gifts, and going through their old photo albums much to your boyfriend's protests.

His parents turned in early after a bit of chatter over a few glasses of wine, leaving you lying on the couch stuffed from both dinner and copious amounts of cookies. You tap the arm he has lazily resting on your chest, "'m gonna go get some water," he whines but when you lift his arm he sighs, dramatically letting it fall back against his chest.

"Don't be long," he calls out when you disappear off into the kitchen, his eyes catch a branch of mistletoe on the mantle he presumes his mum set out to add to her decor, giving him an idea.

He listens for you intently, when he finally hears you rummaging through the the freezer for ice, he takes the opportunity to set his plan into motion, he grabs the branch and leans against the door frame, silently watching you.

When you turn, you raise the cup to your lips until you spot him and more importantly the mistletoe he's holding above the door, making you snort, "if you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked," you mumble, shaking your head.

You shuffle toward him agonizingly slow. Arthur reaches out for you, his free hand pulling you into him by the front of your matching, festive pajamas. A confident smirk falls from your face, and a gasp escapes you at the sudden movement.

The feeling of the water swishing in the glass, the only sound now is the ice clinking against it. His voice interrupts the silence, suddenly having dropped an octave compared to earlier, "Oh look at that," his eyes flick up to what's pinched between his fingers, "Guess we might have to kiss, now..."

Setting the glass on the counter next to you, before you hum, "Think you might be right."

He smiles content with the fact that you're going along with things, he shrugs, "I don't make the rules," he pulls you into him impossibly closer, watching how your lips twitch slightly. You're floored and Arthur can simultaneously see and feel it, "May I?"

Smiling once more at how he never fails to make sure you're comfortable, "You may," somehow you've found yourself breathless at his words and demeanor alone. He dips down to catch your mouth with his, facial hair tickles your upper lip when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

Arthur's hands, warm and strong, slowly slide under the hoodie you had stolen earlier that morning. As he presses you back against the counter, your bodies locked together, you both freeze at the sound of a voice calling out just behind you, "Arthur, you've got a bedroom for a reason."

Lisa, shit. He steps away from you quickly, running his hands over his face and through his hair, "Sorry, mum," he mutters, he always talks about how comfortable they are with talking about certain things but you find yourself wanting to giggle at how he can't meet her eyes.

"She's a nice girl, she doesn't need to be done on my counter," you can't stifle your laughter now, you watch in your peripheral the way his face twists, "Mum! I understand, please," he pleads, obviously hating this conversation.

Lisa scoffs as she turns on her heels deciding she's said enough to his face, but she continues mumbling about raising him to be a gentleman as she disappears around the corner and shuts her bedroom door loudly.

"That's so embarrassing," he groans, hiding his face in his hands with a sigh. You reach for his wrists, tugging them away gently to reveal his reddening cheeks. "'ts not embarrassing," you reassure him, a small smile on your lips. "It's sweet; she cares."

He shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle as he drops it onto your shoulder. "Such a cockblock," he mutters into your ear. You flick the back of his neck, making him step back, rubbing the spot with a mock frown. "Maybe it's a sign we shouldn't be shagging in your parents' house, hm?"

[loving-family-poll]

2nd Ultimate Incest Tournament- Round 1

Propaganda under the cut:

Liam/Noel:

The Gallagher brothers have a very intense relationship that doesn't make any sense to the outside viewer unless one considers the possibility of incest. For 30 years now they have been utterly unhinged about one another in the public eye. Noel has often made incest jokes; Liam once said on-stage once "we had sex last night" referring to him and Noel. Even people writing in actual books and magazines have picked up on the vibes (some stuff that has been printed about them fully feels like it was written by tumblr incestinas except it's like. actual fucking journalists). Also there was this one time in 1996 where they kissed each other with tongue in front of 40 thousand people.

They have been described as “in love with each other” by both themselves and third parties. the lyrics “you’re my lover, i’m your brother.” they kissed with tongue at loch lomond in 1996 and have also been photographed/videoed kissing on the mouth other times. liam regularly groped noel onstage. liam’s entire twitter is just propaganda too. liam talked about impregnating noel once. noel frequently talks about how physically attractive liam is. liam claims that he’s noel’s muse

their song guess god thinks im abel has the lyrics "i could be your lover" while comparing themselves to you guessed it abel and cain. and like. a thousand more instances of them being weird about each other. also noel REALLY wanted a sister and he mentioned it quite a few times and said well liam IS basically a sister or something like that. normal behaviour

Liam literally called himself Noel's good boy on twitter, and called him god a few times after reunion. Noel said he loves make women cry and the only thing that's better is make Liam cry so he can laugh and call him a woman. They literally kissed with tongue and loch lomand is not their only kiss they have two more photos of different kissing to, they literally used the japan kiss video for reunion video. YES THEY DID THAT TF. Noel said they are head over heels in love and said it's illegal in many countries. Also Noel said Liam is like his ex-wife a few times or shit like those cunts are fucking crazy

Other people have described them as more like boyfriend/girlfriend than brothers and said they’re in love. someone on twitter asked liam “if you’re john lennon, who is noel?” and liam said “yoko ono.” another time someone said on twitter “you defo rimmed noel when you were younger” and liam replied “you jealous?"

Deeply weird about each other getting married (them not attending each other's wedding which occurred month apart and then getting divorce around the same time and they stayed at the same hotel for months), intense infamously love-hate relationship and is everyone's favorite soap opera, noel saying "on stage i just wanted him..there's only two of us that will ever get this", prominent theme of shame and crime and impossible dream in noel gallagher works, the elusive meaning of wonderwall which noel insisted is not about anyone but there's good amount of evidence that it referenced back to their childhood and their shared bedroom, liam having mental breakdown several times on twitter about noel, liam's my brother is getting a divorce playlist to which he shared with his 3 millions twitter followers, incest-baiting on main ever since the reunion, brother and lover being interchangeable for noel when writing lyrics, noel (allegedly) lying to liam that his girlfriend cheated on him in order to sabotage their relationship before oasis took off, liam hating noel's latest (ex) wife (sarah), noel writing "the owner of the star on stage" after liam's autograph and so many more insane shit

"[Liam] thinks all the songs are about him. He even thinks Wonderwall is about him." –Noel Gallagher (1997)

"It's all about me it always was and is" –Liam Gallagher (2023)

Japan kiss (kiss is at the end) loch lomand kiss

PLUS they’re back together after 14 years of estrangement! The narrative!

Edward/Alphonse:

Two brothers try to resurrect their dead mother as children and in the attempt become alchemically bonded together. Sacrificing life and limb for one another, professing to be “practically the same person,” having their bond blessed by the canonical god itself, and in one dimension sacrifice everything they’ve ever known to spend the rest of their lives together.

Canonically have their souls tied, go everywhere with each other, travel through dimensions and give up everything just to be together

Ed would kill for alphonse and alphonse would die for ed but they are so soulmate coded that they would go against their own principals too: ed would die for alphonse and alphonse would kill for ed IM OBSESSED also they keep talking about how much they need each other and wanting to touch each other constantly they gay as fuck

They need to kiss sloppy and FUCK! They are literally so canon in the 2003 anime… Al says “Brother, I want to touch you” or something like that in an episode. Ed would literally sell his soul for his brother.

[lavnderwonu]

book lovers | wen junhui

pairing: bookish!jun x bookish!fem!reader

genre: college au, strangers to lovers, fluff, smut

rating: mature

summary: working at your campus library and attending classes gets kinda lonely, until someone comes along and changes that.

warnings: contains smut (!!!), meet-cute, jun is tooth rottenly sweet (yes! that’s a warning!), semi public sex (in a library), unprotected sex, kinda sorta a quickie(?) idk its sorta rushed, bigdick! jun, size kink, oral sex (f. receiving), multiple orgasms.

mini playlist 🎵: into you by ariana grande, little bit by lykke li, feel you by okayceci

word count: 2.3k

author’s note!: AHHHH this was so much fun to write. i literally spent so much time daydreaming about this whole plot & the characters. im a little women enthusiast & a classic book lover, i know im a nerd! also i will always always find an excuse to write fluff. i just love love love writing cute shit! im sort of a sucker for it. THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG TOO LMAO but as always, i appreciate any feedback, & i hope you enjoy! 🩷

click here to join my taglist!

“So… you’re assignment is to read the passage, then write a minimum 3 page essay whether you agree or disagree with the author’s viewpoint.”

Your professor gestures to the board behind him, emphasizing how important it is to acknowledge.

“Due by Monday, I won’t be giving any extensions. Class dismissed.”

“Y/n.” Your friend nudges you, as you currently have your face buried in your book, totally ignoring the lecture. “C’mon, class is over… did you even hear what the assignment was?”

You shut your book, Little Women, a book you’ve read numerous times but you never got sick of. It was a million times more appealing than hearing your literature professor ramble during a lecture.

“Yeah… some three page essay.” You remark, tossing the book in your bag. “I gotta hurry, I have a shift at the library for a few hours. Text me the assignment, okay?”

She nods. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later.”

You quickly grab your binder & notebook and walk out of class, headed for the library.

You’re about halfway there, until someone passing by bumps your shoulder, knocking your things to the ground.

Crouching down to pick them up, you hear somebody shouting sorry! in the distance as you mumble under your breath, “Doesn’t anybody watch where they’re going? Jesus…”

You’re gathering up some papers that fell out of your binder, until you spot an extra set of hands suddenly helping you, and a voice saying, “Let me help you with that.”

You look up, eyes locking with a tall, cute brown-haired boy, whom was now handing you your papers and notebook.

“Sorry, I couldn’t just walk by and not help. People can be so rude.” He smiles sweetly, handing over your papers he picked up. “I’m Jun, I’m in your literature class.”

“Y/n, and thanks, it’s what I get for not paying attention in lecture I guess.” You joke, finishing putting your stuff away as you both stand.

“How is Little Women?” Jun asks.

“I’ve read it before, it’s one of my favorite— wait how did you know that’s what i was reading?”

He laughs. “I saw you reading it in class, you have an incredible attention span. Quite impressive actually.”

“Last week, you read Jane Eyre, and during lecture Soonyoung came in late and the professor got mad, then they both got into this whole big argument, but you didn’t look up once, just kept reading. I’ve been watching you.

“Watching me?” You must have a confused, creeped out look on your face, cause the way he responds next makes you laugh.

“No, No, I don’t mean that in a creepy way like I’m watching you, I just mean that I noticed you, that’s all.”

You couldn’t help but blush, avoiding his gaze for a moment.

A cute boy like him noticed you?

“Laurie proposes to Jo and she says no, even though she’s still in love with him!” You exclaim, explaining your favorite book to Jun, as he holds it in his hands. “I cannot believe you never read it before.”

He shrugs, “I don’t read all that much.”

“We’ll, I think you’ll love it. The story is very enjoyable, and it’s not hard to read, which is surprising since it was written so long ago.” You continue.

“…Would your love for this book have anything to do with the fact that in both movies Laurie was played by Christian Bale, and Timothee Chalamet?”

“No,” You fail at attempting to hide your grin. “But it’s an added bonus. Christian Bale is a very underrated Laurie in my opinion, by the way.”

“Okay, I’ll read it,” Jun gives in, examining the book thoroughly and thumbing through it. “When do you need it back?”

“Whenever,” You say. “I don’t need it back by any certain time so you can take your time with it, and really enjoy it.”

“Oh, I know I will.” Jun smiles.

“Make sure you put these all away before you close up tonight,” Your library coworker tells you, as she gets ready to leave for the night. “Apparently the boss said she wants them out on display up front for tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll do it right now, before I forget,” You reply, retrieving the small stack from the counter. “I have to run those returns upstairs to reshelve.” 

You walk over to the front table just as you hear the door open. 

“We close in thirty- oh! It’s you.” Your coworker says, making you turn around to see who it was. 

It was Jun. “Y/n! Your boyfriend is here.” 

You smile at him as he walks over to you, “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to see if you wanted to do something tonight, maybe dinner… a movie?” He says, as he now towers over you & kisses your forehead. “You’re already dressed cute,” he makes note of your outfit. “I like that skirt.”

“I’m working right now…” You sigh.

“That’s okay, I can wait. I only have…” Jun checks his watch. “Oh, twenty five minutes now.” 

“Whatever,” You smile as you chuckle at him. “Just go sit at the desk, don’t mess up anything.” 

“Oh, before I forget, I brought your book back.” Jun starts as he sits down, reaching into his book bag. 

“There’s no way you already finished it. I gave it to you yesterday.” 

“I just wanted to leave you some notes in the margins for you.” Jun says, handing the book over to you.

You flip through the book, seeing how it’s littered with sticky notes and tabs, marking the different pages.

“You’ve read this before…” You glance over the notes written on a page. 

“A few times.” He smiles as your eyes meet his.

“I thought you didn’t read much?” 

“What is much…?” 

You lean in closer to him, kissing him. “You’re unbelievable.” You smile.

“You liked it? I was wondering if you’d be mad if I nearly defaced your book.” He says, with a chuckle.

“No, no, I couldn’t be mad,” You smile, playfully running your fingers through his hair. “Besides you didn’t actually write in it, if you did, that might be a different story.”

You kiss him one more time, “Well I have some stuff to finish really quick, wait here?” 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. I’m sure I can find something to keep me entertained for a few.” Jun remarks, picking up a book that was in the return stack on the counter.

You finish up the rest of your display, and the returns you had to put away (…even unfortunately stealing the book that Jun was occupying). Your coworker had left for the night and it was time to close up.

“Okay, that’s it for the night.” You announce to Jun, starting to gather up your things. 

“All done?” 

“Yeah, I think that’s- shit!” You realize you still had stuff to put away upstairs. “I forgot to put these ones upstairs.” You grab the few books.

“Come with me?” 

“You won’t be okay by yourself?” He asks, obviously joking with you.

“Cmon, it’s eerie when it’s so quiet, just cmon.” You grab his hand and nearly pull him to the elevator. 

“These few go over here,” You lead him over to the fiction section. “And these go… over here…” You start walking to the next aisle over.

You reach up to attempt to place the last book on the highest shelf, but you’re just a little too short.

“Can you help me?” You laugh, turning to the 6 foot man standing close to you. “I’m too short for this.”

Jun laughs with you, grabbing the book from you. “Where’s it go?” 

“Right next to that one, with the red cover.” 

He places it on the shelf, “Is that the only one?”

“Yeah, that’s all of them.” 

Jun moves to stand in front of you, conveniently trapping you between him and the bookshelf behind you. You mentally thank whoever designed the floor plan in the library to make the aisles so small.

He moves closer to you, nearly pressing himself against you, so close you can smell the cologne he has on.

“You know I can’t help but realize… we’re all alone here.” 

“Yeah… I know, it’s almost-“ You start, as you're cut off with him kissing you.

You moan against his lips as his hands slide up your cardigan sweater, and he trails kisses down your neck.

“Jun…” You moan, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, kissing your lips again.

“Yes, very much.” You whisper, his face still close to yours. “But we can’t do this here…”

“Why not? There’s nobody here…” Jun whispers, as he kisses your neck a few times.

“The cameras, there’s cameras around here..” You say, then you grab his hand. “Cmon, in here.” You lead him down the hall down to one of the study rooms. 

You enter the dimly lit room, and shut the door behind you, but not before realizing how secluded and somehow intimate these rooms somehow are. Okay… mentally noted.

You sit on the table as Jun slots himself between your thighs, he’s kissing on your neck as he’s pulling your sweater off your body. He pauses to pull his sweater and t-shirt off of himself. 

Jun kisses your lips again, more fervently this time, as you’ve both become more eager.

“Lay back for me.” Jun whispers against your lips.

You kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his long hair as you lean back on the table, and you try not to giggle as his lips trail from your chest, and down your stomach, tickling you a little.

“God, you’re so pretty…” He mumbles into your skin, in between kisses.

You smile as you run your fingers through his hair once more, and you feel Jun’s hands side up your thighs underneath your skirt.

“Can I take these off?” Jun asks, eyes meeting yours as his fingers tug on the waistband of your underwear.

“Yeah…” you speak, lifting your hips to give him better access. You start to take your skirt off, but he stops you. 

“No… leave it on.” Oh. You can feel your face get hot.

After many times being in these study rooms, you couldn’t ever imagine that you’d ever be in here… like this, with a gorgeous boy as he’s taking off your clothes, yet here you are.

“Jun…” You sigh, as his hands are pulling you to the edge of the table, and pushing your thighs apart.

“This okay?” He questions, as he’s putting your legs over his shoulders.

“Yeah…” You breathe, nodding, as your hands find the edge of the table to grip it with anticipation. Afterall, you can’t see him with your skirt in the way… hmm, suppose it's all part of his plan.

“God, you're so wet and all I did was kiss you…” Jun says lowly, kissing your thigh gently as his breath fans over your core. 

You don’t even have a chance to respond before he’s bringing his thumb to your clit, circling it slowly a few times, making your breath hitch at the contact.

“Jun, please…” You whine, aching for more.

“Alright baby…” He all but mumbles back to you, and you feel his tongue slide over your clit, and you throw your head back at the feeling.

“Fuck…” Your brows furrow as your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the feeling. He groans against your clit as he slides two fingers inside you, making you arch your back and practically grind your hips down on his hand.

“Shit, baby…” You whine, as his fingers effortlessly reach your sweet spot repeatedly. “Right there… I’m gonna fucking come…” 

“Go on baby,” Jun pulls back, kissing your thigh a few times, all while his fingers don’t let up “C’mon…”

You practically cry his name, as you feel the orgasm rush over you, leaving your chest heaving as you catch your breath. 

“Are you ready, baby?” Jun whispers to you, as you hear rustling and the clink of a belt buckle as he’s undoing his jeans. 

“Yeah…” You whisper, finally catching your breath, but your breath hitches in your throat as he’s suddenly dragging the tip of his cock through your wet folds, the tip bumping your sensitive clit as you’re hinted at the mere size of him.

He slowly sinks into you, the stretch making your nails dig into his biceps. 

“Fuck…” Jun curses as he hovering over you, kissing your neck as he bottoms out, his thrusts shallow so you can get used to him.

“Jun… shit,” You moan, your fingers threading through his hair. “You’re too big.”

“You can take me.” His lips softly graze your collarbone, just as his hand trails lower and lower, until his fingers find your clit.

You whine his name, suddenly your senses are overwhelmed with the feeling of the pressure on your clit and his cock inside you, hitting spots so deep it almost has you seeing stars.

A particularly hard thrust nearly pushes you further up the table, making you nearly cry as you’re already on the edge.

“Shit, I’m already gonna come…” You cry, arching your back as you already feel the familiar tingle spreading through you, making your toes curl.

“C’mon…” Jun grunts, as his fingers find your clit again, and it feels divine with the way he’s pounding into you. “Come for me… give me one more…”

Your legs shake as you come with a loud cry of his name, he keeps going until he’s coming too, slowly rolling his hips to fuck you through your high.

You both say nothing for a few, catching your breath, until you fully register what you just did.

“Oh my god…” You say as you’re getting dressed. “I cannot believe we just did that…” You cover your face as you blush, but also can’t help but laugh.

Afterall, who would've thought?

“Why are you laughing?” Jun notices you trying to hide the fact that you’re blushing, pulling your hand away. “You didn’t like it?” He already knows the answer. 

“Yeah… but I never thought I’d do that, you know… here.” You smile right before you kiss him. 

“But that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t do it again…”

tags: @chiefjunlover @cosmojinyoung @wonuwrites @aaniag @jenoslutie

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 6

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki  @helightknight21 @dylsw @ria-s-writes @sleepymothafterhours 

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Here is another chapter cause I'm still writing out the other fics right now :)

Previous

Chapter 6: The Weight of Loss

Y/N’s POV

It’s almost comical how different my life feels when I’m at school compared to when I’m at home. At Pratt, I’m a student, focused, and driven, with an entire future ahead of me. The campus is buzzing with the usual energy—students chatting, the sound of sketch pads flipping, the hum of distant studio lights. But the weight of everything outside these walls presses down on me more with each passing day.

It’s been weeks or days since the breakup with Sukuna.The loss of our relationship feels longer than the time we actually broke up but it feels like the echo of it still reverberates in everything I do. I’m trying to push forward, trying to act like I’m okay, but the reality is… I’m not. I haven’t been okay for a while.

The work in front of me should be enough to distract me. Finals are coming up, and my portfolio still feels like it needs a hundred more hours of attention before it’s anywhere near perfect. But I can’t stop my mind from drifting back to that night—his touch, his voice, the way he looked at me when he left, the pain in his eyes I couldn’t fix.

I sit in one of the studio rooms, surrounded by scraps of fabric and sketches, trying to focus on the design I need to complete for my final project. My hand trembles as I draw out another silhouette. It’s difficult to concentrate, especially when my phone buzzes on the table.

I don’t even need to look to know if it's from Utahime. She’s been checking in on me regularly. She doesn’t understand everything, but she knows enough to ask if I’m okay.

I pick up my phone, hesitating for a moment before responding. Yeah, I’m good. Just a lot of work to get through.

It’s a lie, but I don’t want to burden her with the truth. Everyone has their own problems, and I don’t want to be the one who drags them down.

I scroll through the texts, my heart dropping when I see a message from Toji. It’s just a short note, nothing particularly alarming. Sukuna's in the hospital. He’s okay, but he had a breakdown. You might want to check on him.

I read it three times before I let it sink in.

Sukuna’s in the hospital.

I bite my lip, the sting of old wounds coming back. What’s going on with him? Why does everything feel like it’s falling apart? I don’t even know how I feel anymore. I spent so much time loving him, fighting with him, then pushing him away, only for him to spiral deeper into whatever this is. And now, he’s in the hospital… alone?

I don’t even have the right to care, do I?

I put my phone down, my hands running through my hair as I try to make sense of it all. What should I do?

There’s a knock at the door, and I look up, startled. Utahime enters with a cup of coffee in her hand. She smiles when she sees me but then stops when she notices the look on my face. She doesn’t even need to ask.

“Something’s wrong,” she says gently, placing the coffee down in front of me.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Sukuna’s in the hospital,” I say quietly. The words feel so surreal coming out of my mouth.

Utahime doesn’t speak for a moment, just nods, as if she knew this might happen. “You’re thinking about going, aren’t you?” she asks, her voice soft.

I shake my head, my chest tightening. “I don’t even know what I’d say to him, Utahime. I—” I stop, the emotions threatening to spill over. “He played with my feelings, and I let him. I gave him everything, and now... now look at us.”

She sits next to me, her presence comforting. “You don’t have to go to him if you’re not ready,” she says, her hand gently brushing mine. “But don’t ignore what your heart is telling you. Sometimes it’s easy to get lost in anger or pride, but if you care about him, and you think he needs you—maybe you should go. Just to know he’s okay.”

I stare at the coffee in front of me, the steam rising gently. I feel so torn. Part of me wants to throw it all away and run to him, to make things right, but the other part is terrified of what that would mean.

“I’m just… so tired, Utahime. Tired of trying to fix everything,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t think I can keep doing this. I don’t want to keep getting hurt.”

She leans back in her chair, giving me space. “You don’t have to fix him. You just have to decide what’s best for you. It’s okay to care about him, but it’s also okay to take a step back. You don’t owe him anything.”

I nod slowly, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift. If anything, it feels heavier.

As much as I want to ignore the message, as much as I want to pretend everything’s fine and keep moving forward, I know deep down that the story isn’t finished yet. But the question is, how do I make peace with it? How do I let go of the part of me that still wants him in my life?

I guess I’m going to have to figure it out, even if it hurts.

I stare at the message from Toji, my thumb hovering over the reply button. I could feel the tension building in my chest, the pull to cave in and see him, to check on Sukuna, to offer whatever comfort I could. But I can’t. I won’t.

I text back quickly, trying to keep my answer as firm as possible, even though doubt gnaws at me. Yes. I’m sure.

I put my phone down and take another sip of the coffee Utahime bought for me. The warmth soothes me, but it’s not enough to quell the rising discomfort I feel. Maybe I’m running away from something I should confront, but every time I think about him—about everything that happened—my chest tightens. I know I’m not ready to face him.

Mei Mei sits beside me, her usual confident and laid-back demeanor a welcome distraction. She smiles at me, her eyes bright despite the obvious tension in the air. “I heard you’ve been dealing with some drama,” she teases, nudging my shoulder playfully. “You always seem to attract it, huh?”

I laugh, but it’s hollow. “Yeah, it seems like it. Just trying to get through finals without any more drama.”

She leans back in her chair, clearly not convinced. “If you say so, but I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s bothering you.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone. What’s going on?”

I set the coffee down, rubbing my forehead. Mei Mei’s known me for years. She doesn’t give up easily, especially when it comes to stuff I’d rather keep to myself.

“It’s… complicated,” I say, sighing deeply. “Sukuna’s in the hospital.”

Mei Mei’s expression softens. “Hospital? What happened?”

I explain the basics—the fallout from our breakup, his breakdown, and the fact that it seems he’s been spiraling for months. As I talk, it feels like I’m peeling back a layer of myself I’ve been trying to keep hidden.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” I continued, my voice shaking slightly. “But now… I just feel like I made it worse.”

Mei Mei listens, her face serious. When I finish, she doesn’t say anything at first. She just looks at me for a long time, her eyes calculating, like she’s trying to figure something out.

“You can’t keep carrying his weight, Y/N,” she says gently, her tone softer than I expected. “He’s not your responsibility anymore. I get that you care, but sometimes stepping back is the healthiest thing you can do—for both of you.”

I nod, trying to hold it together, but her words sink deep into my chest. I know she’s right. If I keep going back to him, trying to fix things that aren’t mine to fix, I’ll just keep breaking myself in the process. But knowing that doesn’t make the choice any easier.

I reach for my phone again, checking for another message. There’s one from Toji.

Y/N, I know you’re upset. I get it. But you need to understand he’s really struggling. He’s not the same guy anymore. Please, just think about it. He’s not okay.

I feel the weight of the message, the silent plea in his words. It almost makes me want to go. But no. I made my decision.

I turn my phone face down, looking back at Mei Mei. “I’m done with it. I need to focus on my future. On me.”

She smiles, a little proud of me. “Good. It’s about time. You’re a strong woman, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

I lean back in my chair, feeling the exhaustion from the last few months hit me all at once. Finals are coming, and I don’t have the luxury of letting my emotions run the show anymore. I have to finish this. For me.

But even as I sit there, I can’t ignore the small ache in my heart, the part of me that still cares, that wonders what could have been. For a fleeting moment, I let myself imagine a different reality, one where everything with Sukuna was easier, where we were happy and I didn’t have to make these impossible decisions.

But that’s not my reality. Not anymore.

Toji's POV

I stare at the screen of my phone, Y/N’s last text still lingering in front of me. Yes. I’m sure.

The words hit harder than I expected. I knew she wasn’t going to just drop everything and run to Sukuna, but hearing it from her directly… it stings. She’s shutting him out, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Nothing any of us can do.

I glance over at Sukuna, still out cold in the hospital bed, his breathing steady for now. He’s been through hell these past few days, and I hate to admit it, but I’m worried. Despite all his bullshit, the bravado he puts up like a fucking wall, he’s broken. And it’s not just the aftermath of Jin’s death or the guilt he carries around like a fucking anchor. It’s more than that.

I thought, maybe if Y/N came, it would snap him back. But she’s not coming.

I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair. The room feels too quiet now, even with the constant beep of the heart monitor in the background. The silence between me and Sukuna is almost deafening, and I can’t shake the sense of impending disaster that hangs in the air.

I think about what Y/N said—how she couldn’t keep carrying his weight. And part of me gets it. She’s right. I told her before that Sukuna wasn’t the only one who needed to get his shit together, but I guess… I didn’t expect her to walk away. Not like this. Not after everything.

I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if we’d all handled this differently. If we had talked more, not let everything fester. Maybe she wouldn’t have had to make that decision. Maybe Sukuna wouldn’t be lying here, broken and lost. And I wouldn’t be standing here, feeling fucking useless.

Sukuna murmurs in his sleep, his hand twitching slightly, and I look back at him. He looks so different when he’s not putting on that mask. I can see the fear, the guilt, everything he hides away in his waking hours. It’s all on display when he’s vulnerable, like this.

He whispers something under his breath, and I lean in closer, straining to hear him.

“Y/N… I’m sorry…”

His voice cracks, soft and fragile. He doesn’t even know I’m here. Doesn’t know I’m watching him break down piece by piece. But I heard it. He said her name.

It’s fucking killing me to watch him like this.

I stand up, running my hand over my face, trying to shake off the weight of everything. I can’t do this. I can’t fix this. No matter how many times I try to tell myself that this is his fight, not mine, I can’t stop feeling like I’m responsible. We all are.

I check my phone again. Y/N hasn’t replied. I don’t expect her to. She’s made up her mind, and honestly, I don’t know what I would say if she did respond.

All I can do is sit here and wait, hoping that Sukuna pulls himself out of this hole he’s dug. He’s going to need all the help he can get, but I’m not sure I can even be that for him anymore.

I glance back at him one last time before walking out of the room. Whatever happens next is out of our hands. I just hope for his sake, he’s not too far gone to fix it.

I step out of the room, needing some space to breathe, even though the weight of everything is still pressing down on me. My phone buzzes again. Another message from Y/N. I don’t look at it. I can’t. Not right now.

The hallway feels emptier than usual, and I’m just about to sit down when I hear footsteps approaching. I glance up, already knowing who it is before I see their faces. Gojo’s impossible to miss, his presence like a fucking storm in the calm. And right behind him, Geto, walking with that same quiet intensity he always carries. They're holding bags in each hand, the smell of fast food wafting into the air.

Gojo gives me a lazy grin like he's just come back from a fun afternoon instead of dealing with a pile of shit that’s only getting worse.

“Got you something.” He waves the KFC sandwich in the air, the crispy fried chicken peeking out from the wrapper. “Figured you could use something real to eat. You’ve been looking like you’ve been living off hospital snacks.”

I glance at him, but I’m not in the mood for a joke. I just stare at the sandwich for a second before nodding. “Thanks.”

Geto just raises an eyebrow and slides a bottle of cold Coca-Cola into my hand. "It’s cold. Thought you could use a little sweetness with all this shit."

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I take the sandwich, unwrap it, and take a small bite. The taste is oddly comforting, and for a moment, it feels a little bit of normal. But only for a second. My mind is still a million miles away, locked on Sukuna, on Y/N, on everything that’s been happening. I can’t seem to get a grip.

Gojo leans against the wall casually, clearly unaffected by anything going on, while Geto remains quiet, eyes focused like he’s waiting for me to crack. The silence stretches, uncomfortable in its own way.

"Is he awake?" Gojo asks, breaking the tension, his voice light but his eyes searching mine for an answer.

I take another bite of the sandwich and sigh, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Yeah, but he’s not really there. Talking in his sleep… saying her name. Y/N."

The mention of her name hangs in the air for a moment, and I watch as Gojo’s expression shifts slightly. He doesn’t show it often, but I know he can’t be completely oblivious to what’s happening. Not with how tightly he and Sukuna have been bound, even when things were rough.

“I’m sure he’s just… in his head,” Gojo says after a pause, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly struggling with his own thoughts. “He’s got a lot of shit on his plate.”

Geto’s expression hardens slightly. “He’s not the only one, Gojo. Y/N’s been through her own hell. She’s not just some side character in his story. It’s never been that simple.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gojo mutters, though he doesn’t seem entirely convinced by Geto’s words. He glances back at the door where Sukuna lies, still deep in his own turmoil. “We all know what happened between them. It’s fucked up, but that doesn’t change what he’s going through.”

The words cut through the tension like a blade. I swallow the rest of the sandwich, my stomach growing heavier with the implications of their statements. The more I think about it, the more it feels like we’ve all fucked up in our own ways. We’ve all allowed this to spiral out of control, and now, we’re left picking up the pieces.

“I get that he’s hurting,” I say, voice tight, “but what do we do now? What can we even do? She’s not coming, Gojo. She’s done.”

The words feel bitter in my mouth, even though I know they’re true. Sukuna has lost her, and there’s no going back.

Gojo and Geto exchange a look, the silence dragging on as the weight of the situation settles in. Gojo pops the cap off his own bottle of Coke, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You just keep pushing forward,” Gojo says after a moment. “You don’t get to wallow in this shit. That’s not how it works, Toji. You just keep moving forward. That's all you can do.”

I’m about to respond when I hear a low murmur coming from Sukuna’s room. The door creaks open slightly, and I glance toward it, the worry clawing at my insides again. Gojo stands up and gives me a pointed look.

“Let’s go see how he’s doing,” he says, voice more serious now, and I can hear the weight of his words.

We all walk to the room, our steps heavy with the unspoken truths we’ve been avoiding. Inside, Sukuna stirs in the bed, his eyes barely open but wide enough to see the panic in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispers, almost like a prayer, his hand gripping the bed sheets tightly.

The room feels cold as we stand there, watching him struggle with the demons only he knows. His words hang in the air like a knife, cutting through the silence.

“Maybe we can fix this,” Gojo mutters softly, more to himself than anyone else. "But not like this."

I watch Sukuna’s face, the same man who used to be full of fire and rage, now broken. Maybe Gojo’s right—maybe we keep pushing forward. But even I know, with everything that’s happened, there’s no easy fix to the mess we’ve created.

Sukuna's POV

I’m trapped in the in-between, stuck in the land of the awake but not living. I can hear them talking, but my mind refuses to connect. Every word that escapes their lips feels like a blur, and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear about Y/N or Jin or my own damn self.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor is the only thing grounding me in reality, reminding me that I'm still here, still breathing, even if it feels like everything else is slipping through my fingers. The voices swirl around me, but none of them cut through the fog in my mind. Not even Gojo’s voice, not even Geto’s.

Y/N. 

Her name lingers in the air like an echo I can’t escape. It’s all I can think about. How I fucked things up. How I hurt her. How I lost her. I can’t get away from the image of her, standing there in her apartment, looking at me with those eyes—those brown eyes I used to drown in. Eyes that no longer saw me the same. Eyes that were filled with pain.

My stomach churns. I want to scream, but the words catch in my throat.

My younger brothers.

Yuuji. Choso.

I’m supposed to be their older brother. I’m supposed to be strong for them. They’ve lost so much already, and I can’t afford to lose them, too. But if I keep spiraling like this—if I let this guilt eat me alive, if I let my demons drag me under—then what happens to them? What happened to me?

I’m supposed to protect them, but I’m barely holding myself together. I can’t keep breaking like this. I can’t keep letting everything fall apart just because I don’t know how to deal with the shit that’s happened.

I’m supposed to be better. Better for them.

But how? How do I fix this? How do I fix myself when everything feels broken beyond repair?

I hear Gojo again, his voice louder this time. "He's just... lost in his head right now. We can't help him until he helps himself." It’s all I need to hear to understand that I’m not getting any sympathy here. Not from any of them. They know me too well.

And maybe that's what I need.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to block out the pain. Maybe if I don’t open them, I won’t have to face the reality of what I’ve become. A broken man. A fuck-up.

But the truth is, I can’t run forever. I can’t stay in this fog of regret and self-loathing. I don’t want to be this version of myself. Not for my brothers, not for anyone. I’ve been here too many times before. Spiraling, falling, too afraid to face what’s staring me in the face. I’ve always been this way. But I can’t afford to be anymore.

I can’t let myself be the reason they lose me. Not when I still have a chance to fix it.

I hear Geto’s voice again, softer this time. "Sukuna... we’re here. But you need to come back. Come back to us." His words hit me harder than I expected, and I feel the weight of them pressing down on my chest. Come back to us.

I’m not sure how, but for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself feel something other than numbness. A crack in the wall I’ve built around myself. A tiny opening to a possibility that maybe—just maybe—I can still get out of this.

But first, I have to face the one thing I’ve been running from.

I have to face myself.

“Y/N,” I whisper to no one in particular, my voice hoarse, rough. "I'm sorry."

I don’t expect anyone to hear it. Hell, I’m not even sure I believe it yet. But it’s the first step. And for now, that’s all I can give.

I open my eyes slowly, squinting at the harsh fluorescent lights above. The hospital room is sterile and unfamiliar, and for a second, I forget where I am. But then it all comes flooding back—the weight of my actions, the destruction I’ve left in my wake, and the realization that I can’t keep hiding from it.

I don't even remember when I said it, but those two words still echo in my mind: I'm sorry. They were the first words I’ve said aloud in what feels like forever, but they carry so much weight. So much guilt.

I sit up slowly, feeling the ache in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s from the panic attack, the guilt, or just the overwhelming sense of being broken. But whatever it is, it makes it hard to breathe, to think. To feel.

Gojo is still here, his presence just as obnoxious as ever. But there's something about him being here that gives me a sense of stability like maybe he doesn’t expect me to be perfect, but he’s still here, regardless. And Geto... Geto is just sitting there, staring at me like he’s waiting for me to get my shit together. Maybe he’s right. Maybe they both are.

“Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "How did I get here?"

Geto looks up from his phone, catching my eye for the first time in what feels like forever. “You’ve been here, Sukuna. You know the drill. You need to pull yourself together, for them.” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it. He’s tired, I can tell. We all are.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice cracking. "For them."

It’s a mantra I’ve been repeating to myself for weeks now—for them. For Yuuji and Choso. They’ve lost so much already, and I can’t be the one to break.

But I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how to fix this. How do I rebuild what I’ve destroyed? How do I fix myself when I’m not even sure who I am anymore?

Gojo leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re not alone in this, you know.” His words are blunt, but there’s something softer in his eyes. He doesn’t say it often, but I can see it. The understanding.

"I know." I don’t meet his gaze, my eyes locked on the floor. It’s easier that way. “But I still fucked up, Gojo. I messed it all up.”

Geto sighs heavily, shaking his head. "You didn't just mess it up. But that doesn't mean it’s over. You’ve got to take responsibility for it, man. For her... and yourself."

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. The words feel like they’re stuck in my throat. But then I think of Y/N. Her face, her eyes... the way she looked at me when I ruined everything. I see her pain in every single interaction we had before it all came crashing down. I can still feel it. The way she’d retreat from me, the way she’d pull away. And the way I never truly let her in.

"I didn’t mean for it to go like this," I finally whispered. "I never meant to hurt her."

“You need to talk to her, if she’ll allow it” Geto says, standing up and moving closer. “And if she’s willing, maybe... maybe you can fix it. But you have to start with yourself first.”

I feel the weight of his words, like he’s trying to lift me out of the quicksand I’ve been sinking into. But I’m stuck. I’m stuck in the guilt, in the shame, in the regret.

“What if she doesn’t want me back?” I ask, barely above a whisper. "What if I’ve already ruined it too much?"

"You won’t know unless you try," Gojo says, stepping forward. “You can’t undo the past, but you can at least try to make the future better. For her. For you.”

I feel something shift inside me, something small but significant. Maybe it’s hope. Maybe it’s just the desperation that’s been eating away at me. I don’t know. But it’s there, and for the first time, I let myself feel it.

Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, I can start rebuilding—starting with myself. I have to try. For Y/N. For Yuuji. For Choso. For me.

I stand up, feeling the weight of my body shift. My legs feel weak, but I force myself to stay upright. Geto watches me carefully as if waiting for me to collapse, but I don’t. Not this time.

I might not have all the answers, but I know one thing for sure.

I’m done running from it.

“I’ll fix it,” I murmur, barely believing the words myself. But I have to say it. I have to believe it.

For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel so alone. Maybe I’m not as far gone as I thought. Maybe I can still fight my way back from this.

Maybe I can still be the man I used to be.

the nurse filled in, "We tried to contact your emergency contact yn ln but they didnt respond. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?

The nurse’s words hang in the air, thick with unspoken tension. I feel the room grow heavier as they linger, and I find myself grasping for a response. Y/N’s name still feels like a foreign sound on my lips.

I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come. What would I even say? She won’t answer me anymore. Not after what I did. The silence stretches between us, suffocating.

"I have—" I start, but the weight of it stops me.

Before I can finish the sentence, Toji speaks up, his voice cutting through the thick air like a knife.

"You can take my information. What do I need to know?"

I look up at him, and for the first time in what feels like days, I feel a bit of relief. Toji, as blunt as he is, never lets me down. He’s been here since the start, and I know, deep down, he’s always had my back, even when I didn’t deserve it.

The nurse nods, taking out her tablet and entering Toji’s information with practiced ease. It’s almost like they’ve done this a thousand times before, and maybe they have. Maybe they’re used to people like me. People who screw up their lives and end up here, needing a reminder that they’re not completely gone yet. That there's still a chance.

But I don’t know if I believe that.

I watch the nurse leave, and the silence settles back into the room like a heavy blanket. Toji stands there, looking at me with something between concern and resignation. He doesn’t need to say anything. I know exactly what he’s thinking.

"Stop blaming yourself," Toji finally says, his voice low, but firm. “You're not in this mess alone, and you’re not gonna fix it overnight. But you’ve gotta stop running from it, or you'll end up buried.”

I can feel his eyes on me, watching for any sign of weakness, but I can’t give him that. I can’t give anyone that. Not after everything.

"I know," I mutter, my voice barely audible.

Toji shrugs and moves to the side, making space in the small hospital room. "We all fucked up, Sukuna. But it’s not the end of the world. You’re still here."

The words settle somewhere deep inside me, somewhere I didn’t even know was still capable of feeling something. I look away, pretending the words don’t hit me the way they do.

But I can’t stop thinking about Y/N.

Her face. Her eyes. How she would look at me when I failed her. The way she pulled away.

I failed her.

But I still want to fix it. God, I want to fix it so badly that it hurts.

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do that. I’m not sure if it’s even possible. But for the first time in months, I feel like I can try. I have to try.

For me. For her. For everyone I’ve hurt.

“Thanks,” I say to Toji, my voice gruff and unsteady. "For doing this... for me."

He doesn’t respond right away, just gives me a sharp look like he’s waiting for me to crumble again.

But I don’t.

Not this time.

Instead, I stand up slowly, feeling the weight of my legs beneath me. There’s no escape now. No more running from my mistakes. No more hiding. I have to face this.

And maybe... just maybe, I can start with making things right.

For once, I don’t feel like I’m completely drowning. But the battle is far from over.

"I’ll make it right," I say softly to myself, more than to Toji.

The words feel fragile like I’m trying to piece together a shattered mirror. But I have to try.

I won’t be the man I used to be. I can’t go back to that.

But maybe, just maybe, I can be someone worth loving again.

For Y/N. For everyone I’ve hurt.

And for myself.

I’m finally being released from the hospital. The sterile white walls feel like they’re closing in as the nurses hand me a prescription for the medications I’m supposed to take. But I don't care about that right now. I just want to go home. I just want to breathe again.

The ride back to the apartment feels like it takes hours. The air in the car is heavy with the weight of everything I've done, everything I’ve messed up. I haven’t spoken a word the whole way. Toji’s driving, the only sound between us was the soft hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of the road beneath the tires.

When we get to the apartment, I’m not sure what to expect. The door’s wide open when I walk in, and there’s Choso, pacing back and forth. His voice rises, sharp and full of frustration as he glances over at me. His eyes are bloodshot like he hasn’t slept in days, and I know it’s because of me.

"Sukuna!" Choso shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, his face a mix of anger, pain, and worry. “What the hell were you thinking?! You scared the shit out of us, man!”

I flinch at his words, the sting of them going deeper than I want to admit. But I don’t say anything. I don’t have a defense, not for this. I can’t make it better with a few words. So, I stand there, silent, my head hanging low.

Yuuji’s sitting in the corner of the room, his eyes glued to the floor, his friends Megumi and Nobara beside him, looking as stressed as he is. The weight of it all crashes into me. I did this to them. I’ve been selfish, and it’s clear they’re carrying this burden with me.

Yuuji finally looks up, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm glad you're home, bro."

His words don’t hit me like I expect them to. Instead of feeling the relief I thought I’d get from hearing him, I just feel hollow. I’ve caused too much damage to fix it with just a few words. He shouldn't have to say that. I shouldn’t be the one causing him so much pain.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I mutter, the bitterness slipping out before I can stop it. "It’s not like I’ve been some fucking good example for you, right?"

Toji steps up beside me, his presence grounding. “That’s enough,” he says, his tone low but firm. “He’s home, and that’s what matters. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

Choso doesn’t let up though, his hands on his hips as he glares at me. "You’ve been running from everything, running from us, from yourself. We were worried you were gonna fucking end up dead, and now you’re back, but are you even gonna stay back?"

I want to answer him, to tell him that I’m trying, that I’m going to get better. But I know he won’t believe me. None of them will. Not after everything.

"Look," I say, my voice thick. "I’m sorry. I’ve fucked up, and I can’t fix everything in a day. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere right now."

It’s all I can offer, and I know it’s not enough, but it’s all I’ve got. I can’t be the man I was before. I can’t just wipe away all the mistakes I made with a simple apology. But maybe I can try to be better.

Yuuji stands up slowly and walks over to me. I brace myself, waiting for him to yell, for him to say something harsh. But when he reaches me, he simply pats me on the back, like he’s trying to offer something I don’t deserve.

“It’s good to have you back, Sukuna,” Yuuji says quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat growing. I don’t know if I’m crying or not. But it sure feels like it. Maybe this is the first step in making things right. Maybe not for everyone, but for me, for Yuuji, for Choso... and Y/N.

The tears come without warning, falling like a flood. I feel them before I even know they’re coming, a warm rush down my face, blurring my vision. I can’t stop them. Not anymore. I’ve been holding everything in for so long, trying to keep the pieces of myself together, trying to be the strong one for my brothers. But I can’t do it anymore.

My knees give way, and I drop to the floor, the weight of everything—of all the things I’ve lost, of all the things I’ve fucked up—crushing me. My chest aches, tight, like it’s too small to hold all the guilt, all the pain.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter through gritted teeth, though I don’t know if I’m saying it to Choso or Yuuji or even myself. My voice cracks, the rawness of it is unfamiliar and painful. “Jin’s gone because of me... and Grandpa... he’s gone. They’re both gone.”

The tears come faster, like a storm I can’t outrun. I can’t hold it together anymore. Not for anyone. Not for them. Not for myself.

I hear Choso’s footsteps, feel his arms around me as he pulls me up, but I don’t want to be touched. Not right now. I want to crawl into a hole and disappear, to not have to face any of this, to not have to be the one who let them all down.

“Grandpa's funeral,” I whisper, my voice ragged. “Our parents didn’t even show up. They didn’t care. They never did.”

The words sting, but it’s the truth. The truth that I’ve been running from for years. Our parents left us. They abandoned us, and the only one who was there, who gave a shit, was Granpa. And now he’s gone, too.

“I’m tired of holding this in,” I choke out. “I can’t keep pretending to be the fucking strong one. I’m... not strong. I’m broken.”

I look up at Choso, and his face is pale, but his expression is gentle. I can see the hurt in his eyes, but there’s something else there too: understanding. He knows. He knows what it’s like to lose, to feel like you’re drowning in your own shit. And maybe he’s the only one who can truly get it.

I look over at Yuuji, and his face is full of concern. He’s standing in the corner of the room, silent, but I know the words are there, sitting heavy on his tongue. He doesn’t need to say anything, though. The fact that he’s here—just here—means more than words ever could.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” I say, my voice low and broken. “I don’t want to be like this anymore. I don’t want to let everyone down. I don’t want to keep losing people.”

But I’m scared. Scared of what it will take to fix all this. Scared of how much of myself I’ll have to break in the process.

“I’m so fucking tired,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper. 

Choso pulls me close, his hands gripping my shoulders as if he can somehow hold me together. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, Sukuna. We’re here. You’re not alone in this. You never were.”

His words hit me like a lifeline, but the truth is, I don’t know if I deserve it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the person they want me to be.

But I know one thing: I can’t keep drowning in my own shit. I have to try to be better. Even if it’s just for a little while.

I’m home. But the journey to redemption? That’s just the beginning.

[eliasorchard]

okay i finally settled comfortably enough to read it and WOAH.

to say im pleasantly surprised is an understatement tbh. i haven't read a well written william x reader fic in SO LONG so this really made me happy. just so you know, i'm going to pretend this is my christmas present

i knew you had good vocabulary but damn ayumi, this was good. all the sentences you put together are so descriptive and vivid, it really lets you picture the scene

im in love with the teasing comments they make to one other in passing, it feels light and realistic, and so intimate. agh this is so good 😭 you did so well, well done. AND WILLIAM IS SO SMOOTHAJASJIWIS, i really liked that. the words you used to describe him and the actions he did/sounds he made made him sound attractive as hell

the environment...the build up...the dialogue...the little details... there wasn't one moment where i wasn't impressed fr

also, the relationship between the two was extremely nice to see as well, they're comfortable with each other but you can still feel some tension between each other. sometimes i have issues trying to make the perfect balance between the relationship of two (or more) characters where there's both some tension and banter, and you captured that extremely well.

all in all, this was such a wonderful read whdusjs i loved this and i would love to go in more detail but i'll refrain for now 👍 as always, i'm excited to see what you'll be able to come up with next. i really do love your writing ayumi 🫶

edit: the playlist cover thing is so cool, love your vibes

"𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓"

"𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙙𝙮."

ꕥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: william james moriarty / reader

ꕥ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠����: implied female reader, +18, smut, nsfw, oral (f + m), fingering (f!receiving), sex (p in v), edging, unprotected sex, mutual pining, romantic intimacy, emotional vulnerability, mention of crimes and society's problems.

ꕥ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: william james moriarty, the infamous lord of crime, is now your ally. but when he stands at your door late at night, you find yourself questioning if being just that is enough. there’s a tension between you, something more than simple partnership. as trust and desire intertwine, you can't help but wonder—what is it that draws you to him? is it mere fascination, or something far deeper?

ꕥ 𝐰𝐜: 4135!

ꕥ thank you @eliasorchard for your support

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤

The room was still, the only sounds being the faint scratching of your pen and the soft crackle of the candle burning low on your desk. Books lay scattered across the surface, open to pages filled with intricate diagrams and notes you’d carefully scrawled over the past few hours. The faint scent of wax and parchment lingered in the air, familiar and comforting.

The knock on the door broke the fragile silence. It wasn’t loud, just a gentle rapping, but it was enough to pull you from your focus. Your pen stopped mid-stroke, hovering over the page as your gaze shifted toward the sound. A rare disturbance at this hour.

You rose from your seat, tugging at the edges of your skirt to smooth the fabric. The floor creaked softly beneath your bare feet as you approached the door, hesitating for a moment with your hand on the handle. Taking a quiet breath, you turned it and pulled the door open.

"William?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. The faint flicker of candlelight casts shadows over his face, making his expression even harder to read. He stood there, as calm as ever, but something in his stance gave him away—something small, but enough to make your curiosity spike.

"Is everything all right?" you pressed, your voice softer this time. “It’s unusual to see you at this hour.”

"I do apologize," he said, his tone as polite as ever. The golden strands of his hair fell lightly over his scarlet eyes, catching the faint light in a way that made it hard to look away. "But I assure you, I am here on business, not merely for the pleasure of your company."

"First of all, it’s quite rude to leave a guest standing at the door, don’t you think?" you remarked, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips as you stepped aside to hold the door open. Your gaze flickered briefly over the sharp lines of his black cloak, a garment clearly chosen for its ability to conceal more than just his identity. Though your tone carried a playful edge, your posture remained poised, every movement calculated with the kind of grace that bordered on instinct.

You gestured toward the leather armchair by the fireplace, its surface gleaming in the soft, golden glow of the flickering flames. "Please, make yourself comfortable," you added smoothly, your words effortlessly mingling warmth with precision. "I’ll prepare some tea."

William chuckled, a spark of amusement flickering in his scarlet eyes. "Your consideration is truly remarkable," he said, the edge of a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Though, I must say, I’m rather surprised you’d welcome me after such an ungodly hour and finding you, of all places, in your own room."

With a smooth nod, he entered the room, his movements effortless, like he had all the time in the world. His gaze swept the space, lingering on the flickering fire that cast shadows across the walls and shelves. He lowered himself into the armchair with a languid grace, his fingers finding each other almost instinctively as he settled in. "Quite cozy in here," he remarked, his voice laced with dry humor.

Some minutes later, you proceeded to pour hot water into the teapot, which had been previously filled with tea leaves. You presented him with an exquisite fine china cup, worth thousands of pounds, in a serene manner.

William accepted the delicate porcelain cup with a small, appreciative smile, his fingers wrapping around the smooth china with careful precision. He brought the cup to his lips, inhaling the floral fragrance before taking a sip. "I must admit," he said, his voice low and thoughtful, "you truly have a talent for creating...environments." His eyes briefly scanned the room before returning to you. "I hadn’t imagined a study would require quite so much furniture." There was a playful note, but his tone remained gentle, his gaze sharp as he watched your reaction.

He was bold, that much was obvious, and you couldn’t hide the faint smile that tugged at your lips. He had that effect on you — no denying it. There was something about him that screamed genius, that rare kind of brilliance that only comes once in a lifetime. Or, as you liked to joke, a damn mastermind. It wasn’t easy to hide anything from him, though. His eyes were sharp, always watching, always noticing. You could try to mask your thoughts, but he seemed to see right through you, like an open book.

"I realized I was working into the late hours, so I thought, why not make things convenient?" You lifted your cup, savoring a sip of tea, before gesturing casually toward the king-sized bed nestled behind you. A subtle smile played on your lips as you added, "Besides, I think it adds a certain charm to the room, wouldn’t you agree?"

"I assure you, that charm pales in comparison to the owner's," he murmured smoothly, the comment slipping from his lips with such ease that it almost went unnoticed. Before you could muster a reply to his casual flirtation, he seamlessly shifted topics, his tone adopting a more serious edge. "Speaking of pressing matters, did you receive the documents regarding the labor exploitation and trafficking schemes between the French and British elites? Or perhaps any updates from your meeting with the Queen?"

"I wouldn’t say receive—more like acquired by stealing," you chuckled softly, shifting slightly in the armchair beside him, your body moving with a fluid grace as if to shake off the weight of the conversation. "But don’t worry, I’ll fetch them for you, all right?"

Rising to your feet, you crossed the room with purpose, the soft tap of your steps barely audible against the rich carpet. At the mahogany wood drawer, your fingers traced its edge before pressing a hidden button beneath it, revealing a concealed compartment.

William observed the process with a faint, almost amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His crimson gaze followed each movement you made, noting the precision and ease with which you executed even the simplest of tasks. It hadn’t escaped him how much more efficient his life had become since forging an alliance with you—an ally who, thus far, had never failed him.

Yet, it was him who messed things up, since your relationship was supposed to be strictly professional. But there he was, lingering in those moments you shared—debating, reading, or planning together. It was like he couldn’t help himself, enjoying it more than he probably should.

He didn’t even notice when she was standing right in front of him, handing over the documents he’d asked for. That expression of surprise lasted only a second, then he masked it, quietly diving into the information like it was the only thing that mattered.

"So, there really is a cartel between the English and French elites, keeping the textile industry under the control of those arrogant bastards." he muttered, his voice low with a tinge of disgust. His lips curled slightly, his tone almost mocking as he continued, "And as if that wasn’t enough, they’re linked to the deaths of workers and the suppression of popular movements."

William let out a dry chuckle, running a hand over his face, his fingers briefly lingering at his temples as if trying to rub away the weight of the revelation.

"Thankfully, you’ve prepared a plan, Liam. At least those monsters will see their power diminished," you said as you reached for the empty cups. With practiced ease, you placed them on a silver tray, the porcelain making a soft clink. Turning back to him, you folded your arms lightly, tilting your head with a hint of curiosity. "So, what’s next? What am I required to do now?"

"Don’t worry about work now. You’ve already done enough, risking your life for those documents," he said, offering you a reassuring glance. His voice was soft, almost gentle, though the edge of his usual sharpness lingered. "Enjoy your rest for a while."

"Are you going home now?" you inquired, watching him carefully. You figured he had accomplished what he came for and didn’t have any other reasons to stay. "Do you want me to call my coachman?"

"I was lying when I said I was only here for business," he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He shifted slightly, a faint trace of embarrassment coloring his expression. "But, are you willing to listen to what I have to say?"

Was he implying he felt attracted to you ?

You glanced at his eyes—scarlet, like a deep, burning flame—and then, almost involuntarily, your gaze shifted to his lips. There was something dangerous about the way he stood there, words hanging between you both like a heavy fog. The air felt charged, and you weren’t sure whether you were ready to step into it or pull back.

He raised from his seat with deliberate ease, his movements carrying a quiet confidence. He leaned down, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his fingers brushing softly against your lips as if testing the waters. His voice dropped to a near-whisper, laced with something raw and unguarded. "Please, tell me, name... May I kiss you?"

"Do you really think I would reject you?" you murmured, a playful edge to your tone as you closed the gap between you. Your hands reached up, pulling him into a kiss that was anything but shy. His fingers found their way to your neck, the touch insistent as he deepened the moment, his warmth consuming you entirely.

Without breaking the kiss, he swept you into his arms with ease, carrying you as though you weighed nothing. The world tilted for a moment before you felt the soft sheets beneath you. He placed you down gently, his touch careful, as his scarlet eyes met yours, searching for permission to go further, silently asking for permission.

You answered without hesitation, your gaze and the way you drew him closer saying everything he needed to know.

He then used his lean, slightly calloused fingers to trace along your thigh, moving deliberately. Each touch was firm yet careful, stirring sensations that sent shivers through your body. You tensed under his hand, your breath hitching as his fingers circled the hem of your skirt, playing just at the edge.

The slowness wasn’t accidental—he enjoyed drawing out your reactions, taking his time as if savoring every second. You could feel the subtle pressure of his fingertips, rough but measured, igniting a mix of frustration and longing. A soft sigh escaped your lips, one you couldn’t suppress, and his low chuckle followed immediately after.

“Patience,” William murmured, his breath brushing your ear. His tone carried the faintest hint of mockery, making the flush on your cheeks deepen.

His fingers slid just beneath the edge of the fabric, and the warmth of his touch against bare skin made your pulse quicken. The teasing was unbearable, every nerve in your body screaming for more. The tension was maddening, and finally, you couldn’t hold back.

“Just take this off already,” you huffed, trying to sound commanding but failing to hide the tremble in your voice. Your fists clenched at your sides, as if the small motion could keep you grounded. “Stop toying with me, William.”

He paused, a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back slightly. His crimson eyes traveled slowly across your form, a deliberate sweep that left you feeling bare under his gaze.

“Why would I stop?” he asked smoothly, his voice low and teasing. “I’m enjoying the view.”

Then, with infuriating calm, he moved his hands to his waist, undoing the button of his pants with a soft click.

"If you’re not going to do it, I’ll just handle it myself." You inverted your positions, placing all your weight on top of him – a silent reminder that you, too, had the strength to equal him.

That surprised him, though not in the way you might have expected—he visibly hardened beneath you. Glancing down, a smug grin spread across your lips, satisfaction glinting in your eyes as he tasted his own poison.

William's pupils dilated when you had the brilliant idea of starting to take off each piece of clothing from your body. He could no longer suppress his desire, not when he finally had your bare skin touching his. "I surrender," he murmured, your name lingering on his tongue. His voice was hoarse with longing, tinged with the faint embarrassment of admitting defeat in this intimate battle.

He gently placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer until his lips captured yours in a soft, deliberate kiss. The tenderness quickly gave way to passion as his lips explored yours with a fervent curiosity, eager to uncover every hidden detail. A low groan escaped your throat when his tongue slipped into your mouth, the intensity of his desire igniting something equally heated within you.

"It seems you're skilled in more than just academics, Mr. Moriarty," you teased, your voice slightly breathless as your lips parted. The unusual fervor in his kiss contrasted with the composed, calculated persona he so often wore, making your remark all the more fitting.

A mocking expression played across his face, silently taunting you, as if to say your situation was no better than his. To stoke the flames further, his fingers began to explore the delicate heat between your folds, teasingly tracing the slickness that had escaped the confines of your now-forgotten undergarments, abandoned somewhere on the floor.

"I can show you many other things I skilled as well, my lady."

Your eyes fluttered shut from the overwhelming stimulation, breaths uneven as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Instinctively, your legs attempted to close, but his firm hands pushed them apart, holding you in place. Without hesitation, his head dipped lower, drawing closer to your womanhood with purpose. "Liam, it's so good. I can't take it anymore," you gasped, your voice trembling and pitching higher with a mix of pleasure and desperation.

He looked up at your face from below, a soft, almost predatory smile tugging at his lips. "Darling, I know you can," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire.

The words sent a jolt through you, your body arching slightly in response. Before you could protest, his tongue returned to its relentless pace, circling your clitoris with maddening precision. Each flick and swirl sent waves of satisfaction that spread like wildfire through your body, leaving you gasping for air.

Your thighs trembled as his hands pressed into your skin with just enough force to ground you while his tongue pushed you higher. When he slid a single finger inside, the intrusion was almost too much, your walls instinctively clenching around him. But it was the curl of his finger — achingly precise, particularly for his first time — that sent shockwaves through your core.

A strangled moan escaped your lips as he found your sweet spot, a sensation so intense it was almost unbearable. Your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as the world outside this moment faded into oblivion. The faint rustle of sheets beneath you and the warmth of his breath against your most sensitive skin grounded you, while your thoughts spiraled—momentarily forgetting that you were ever rivals.

"William—please," you gasped, voice quivering. The desperation in your tone surprised even you, but it didn’t faze him. If anything, it spurred him on.

His free hand moved to grip your hip, his touch rough yet reassuring as if to anchor you amidst the storm he was conjuring. The rhythm of his movements was unrelenting, every stroke and flick driving you closer to the edge.

Your breaths grew uneven, each inhale catching in your throat as the tension within you coiled tighter. The only sounds in the room were your soft whimpers and the wet, sinful noises of his ministrations — you felt yourself nearing your release, unable to hold on any longer.

"Come for me, darling. Don't hold back," he urged, his baritone voice coaxing as you reached your peak. A broken moan escaped you as your fingers tangled in his golden hair, pulling slightly to steady yourself, while he eagerly savored every drop of your release.

You let out a soft chuckle, the calming sensation washing over you leaving your body pleasantly exhausted and your head spinning faintly. Beads of sweat clung to your skin as you tried to steady your breathing. William rose from his position, leaning in close. His lips brushed against your forehead in gentle, lingering kisses, a tender contrast to the intensity of moments before.

"I believe it's your turn now. After all, I’m not one to allow imbalance, especially in matters of pleasure," you teased, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you glanced at him with an air of confident mischief.

He couldn’t help but glance at you, his crimson eyes gleaming with a sadistic edge, that highlighted his mixture of intelligence and a shadowed past—one you had yet to unravel. "If you insist," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine, "who am I to deny you this pleasure?"

With deliberate slowness, he spread his legs slightly, the fabric of his underwear tightening just enough to reveal the unmistakable length of his desire. Your breath hitched at the sight, heat rushing to your cheeks, but his gaze pinned you in place, unapologetic.

Placing his hands firmly on his thighs, he leaned back ever so slightly, the motion hinting a challenge. A wicked smirk danced across his lips as he taunted, "Come here—if you dare."

You weren't one to shy away from challenges, so pleasing the infamous Lord of Crime couldn't possibly be dangerous, could it? That question went unanswered as you pushed his underwear down with anticipation, sliding it off his feet before letting it fall to the ground. It revealed the most delicious cock you had ever seen – the tip swollen, a deep pink hue, and the girth, goodness, it could stretch you deliciously.

"I see why you're so popular in society, my my," you teased, your tongue flicking gently along his base. In response, he let out a low groan, his grip tightening on the bed sheets.

"Do you really think I would bed someone who doesn’t share my ideals?" His voice was low, barely a whisper, as you felt his body tense beneath your touch. His eyes closed, a faint hiss escaping him, not from pain, but from the pleasure your actions were bringing. "And do you honestly believe I have the time for endless physical relationships?" His lips curled into a slight, mocking smile, even as he fought to keep his composure. "You couldn't be more wrong."

"So, am I privileged?" Your eyebrow arched in anticipation, a playful challenge in your gaze. As you took the tip of him into your mouth, you circled it with your tongue, feeling the salty taste of his precum linger. You couldn't help but chuckle, the vibrations sending a thrill through him, awaiting his response.

"What do you think?" William murmured, his voice laced with a soft amusement. His hand moved to your head, a gesture both tender and possessive. Slowly, his fingers combed through your hair, savoring its texture as he massaged your scalp in a soothing rhythm. And then, your lips wrapped around him, moving up and down his length in a steady rhythm, your effort evident as you fought to suppress the urge to gag. The stretch and weight of him tested your limits, but you kept going, driven by the muffled groans of your name that escaped his lips.

"Shit, name, you're gonna make me cum," he murmured, his voice hoarse with restraint. But you didn’t relent. If anything, you pushed him further, your fingers trailing down to gently massage his balls, drawing out a low, guttural groan from deep in his chest. Determined, you took him fully into your mouth, the stretch overwhelming but intoxicating, your nose brushing against the soft tickle of his blond pubes as you moved.

And just as he seemed on the verge of release, you pulled away with a mischievous grin, leaving him with a devilish expression. "Little minx," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, "do you really think you're going to get away with that?"

"With what?"

Without hesitation, he slipped his hands behind your back, flipping you beneath him with a swift yet deliberate motion. His crimson eyes burned with unrestrained desire as he aligned himself against your entrance, teasing you with the head of his length, as he rubbed it against your slit. "Now take all of me," he commanded, his voice low and thick with hunger.

Following that, he slammed into you, the slick heat of your walls wrapping around him with an almost perfect fit, causing his length to twitch with raw pleasure. "You feel incredible, darling," he murmured, his voice dripping with longing. With a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, he pushed deeper, his tip grazing your cervix. "So wet and ready, all for me," he added, his words lingering in the charged air before he closed the distance, capturing your lips in an intimate kiss – his hands roaming into your body as he explored you.

While immersed in the kiss, your bodies shifted, and before you knew it, you were straddling his lap. Your hips moved in tandem with his, rocking back and forth, taking in the fullness of his massive length and girth with each motion. Soon, you buried your face in his neck, the aroma of his cologne enveloping you. It carried a sophisticated oud note, warm and smoky, with hints of spice and leather that lingered like a signature of his power. The heat of his skin against your cheek sent a subtle hum through your body, and you couldn’t resist brushing your lips softly along the pulse at his throat, feeling its steady rhythm beneath your touch.

You felt yourself nearing the edge, and it was clear he was too—his brows furrowed, his shoulders rigid with tension. His gaze burned into your breasts, the intensity sparking a shiver through you. His fingers didn’t falter, tracing deliberate, slow circles around your sensitive areolas, the coolness of his skin sending a contrast against your warmth.

Your hands clung to his back, nails tracing faint marks as your body tightened around his cock, your climax spilling around him in a slick, glistening ring. "I... I’m going to pull out now, name," he murmured, his voice strained and pitched higher from restraint. With a sharp exhale, he withdrew, and his release followed—hot, white streaks painting your belly in messy, heated patterns.

The room is still heavy with the warmth of the moment, while William moves with purpose, his hands gentle as they clean you up, the motions slow but steady.

"Jesus, I think we really need a rest now," you mutter, voice low. "Or we won't be able to do any work tomorrow."

He laughs quietly, the sound almost lost in the stillness of the room. His fingers are careful, wiping away with a handkerchief he found in a close wooden corner table any traces of him in your skin, and replied, "it would be perfect, since our bodies need to rest. Now, let me take care of you."

Seeing a nod, William moved with a quiet grace, slipping into his silk pajamas. The fabric clung to his frame just enough to reveal the sharpness of his form, the deep midnight blue catching the light as he adjusted the cuffs with ease.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, before he stepped closer, his hands gentle as he helped you into your own nightwear. Then, he carefully dressed you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he fastened the buttons.

You lay on your right side, facing the cool edge of the bed, while he settled on the left, a small gap between you that felt oddly familiar. The blanket, thick and heavy with a soft, worn texture, was pulled up to your chins as you both adjusted into place. You reached for the lamp on the corner table, which clicked off with a soft metallic sound, leaving the room bathed in silence and the intensity of each other's gaze.

"I think we overdo it a little too much."

"...."

"I agree."

"Maybe we should just accept it...no?"

"It would be a pleasure."

[bluberimufim]

It's literally 1AM but I just discovered the aria "Come away, death" by Thomas Arne and????? Most Dora-coded song I've ever heard??????????

[namazunomegami]

“Kindly consider the question: what would your good do if evil did not exist, and what would the earth look like if shadows disappeared from it? Shadows are cast by objects and people. Here is the shadow of my sword. Trees and living beings also have shadows. Do you want to skin the whole earth, tearing all the trees and living things off it, because of your fantasy of enjoying bare light? You’re a fool.” - The Master and Margarita

[miabrown007]

only making a playlist about them when you're already dating--a win for the hopeless romantic girlies

[toxintouch]

Songs added based off of prev's tags, tysm!!!! I love hearing about what music people feel pairs with writing and characters, I find it so fascinating. And after listening I had to immortalize these song recs by reblogging.

also glad that the sort of...pathos&pretense & etc.... of Vere the came off correctly, I always worry I won't translate my thoughts right...

feels weird to reblog a comment tag chain with compliments directed at urself but also weird to cut part of someone else's tags off lol

ty!! I really appreciate your kind words~! ◕ω◕

VERE: DEICIDE ||Deicide - the killing (or the killer) of a god. Vere x Reader/Unspecified MC. Read on AO3

"Fuck fairness. Life's not fair."

If life were fair, this would all have happened differently. In a different time. Long before Eridia was even a smear on the maps, back when he wandered the world as a deity. With fresh air in his lungs and sweet blood on his teeth. He'd track the tantalizing scent of you for days once he'd caught it on the wind. His mouth would water at just the echo of your taste; perhaps he'd have to stop for a snack just to keep his palate from tingling.

(But then–the lutist hadn't tasted of you at all, though the delightful promise of you had been heady–vibrant–thrilling to all of his senses. He'd dined on the composition of your suffering, the warm fear in your breath, the quick jump of your pulse beneath his fingertips. He'd kept the taste of you on his tongue, but still, he couldn't chase it fast enough to be satisfied indulging in another.)

He'd wreak havoc on the world to find you. Hunt you.

Let the people who hid you from him stew in terror at his approach. He'd eat a hundred unsatisfying appetizers just to bring the stench of death to those who dared...

Vere would demand you. Cast his shadow on your little shithole of a village and bear his teeth until they hand you over to him.

(And fuck. The way you'd smell up close–the new intricacies he could discern when he loomed over you, his snout bigger than your body. Would you tremble for him, would you fall to your knees?)

Vere should be your object of worship, your every thought and fear and desire, but instead he begs you for scraps. He twines pretty words around you when his chain is loose enough to reach. He tempts. He enraptures you with silky promises when you should be his by right.

Hundreds of years he's wandered looking for a counterpart, some hidden corner of his soul hopelessly devoted to the thought of a kindred spirit–not quite Human, not quite Monster.

You've been owed to him since his lonesome birth. He's ached for your presence ever since that first betrayal, a stinging knife lodged in the soft flesh between his ribs.

Oh, but he'd have been a kind god to you. Eventually. But you? Selfish, loathsome, greedy little thing. Forever playing keep-away,

( –defiant eyes and quivering lips, in the damp corner behind the Wet Wick, cloying smell drowning out the odor of vermin– )

content to consume his thoughts and mind, ask all your questions and give nothing back.

He's been starving for you for so long. The least you could do is let him take a bite.

[apricusapollo]

hoax snippet 🤭🤞

[moxymaxing]

(Long ghostkicks ramble incoming)

I think in the beginning of season 1 william saw Dakota as this breakable person, someone who would always be there and was a true hero. He’s always admired Dakota from the start. And some of this hasn’t changed; william still thinks Dakotas the strongest of them all and is the greatest hero. However I think a major shifting point for Williams view on Dakota was episode 13 of season 1 where Dakota nearly died because of the sword through the torso. William audibly is choked up during this scene and is the most obviously worried one out of all of them (s1 ep19 parallels). I think it’s at this point that William sees Dakota as more “human”. Although he’s still one of the toughest and strongest people he knows, Dakota still has weaknesses and can die just like the rest of them. And even more so than that was the new growing fear of losing Dakota. After the timeskip William makes it clear how much he fears losing Dakota again. To quote William from s2 ep1, “The only reason I ever even thought about getting stronger, or whatever that means, was because I met [Dakota]”. “…’cause I don’t wanna lose you for, well, I mean, ever again. We’re what we’ve got.” It all makes me wonder how William coped after Dakota disappeared for ten months with only a note left behind. And it makes me wonder what Williams full thoughts were when he said that him and Dakota eventually falling out “bound to happen”. How much has he thought about it? Was he just uselessly clinging to the friendship they still had with the impending doom caused by their differing morals hanging above them? How the fuck is episode 34 going to go??? More “Feelys” to quote the editor???? Would Dakota pick his best friend over his morals????? What if I literally ate drywall

Honestly I want bitter fighting. I want Dakota to be so frustrated and confused and angry and disappointed and I hope their fight draws blood (metaphorically or physically) and I hope I throw up and die and voluntarily become the joker. I also hope Dakota looks in Williams eye and can’t see how the person who fought so hard for Dakota to live and stay by his side is the same one who would lie and kill someone. Or maybe Dakota does look at William and can’t help but still see the awkward teenager who would hide behind his back like a shield, then the person who grew into wanting to protect him in return, the person who has put his moral faith into him and only him, the person who fucking sucks ass at driving, the person who would do anything for him, the person he trusts so so much, William Wisp.

Really all roads lead to tragedy. Maybe william knew this, and maybe that’s what he meant by it being “bound to happen”. Dakota chooses to leave William and/or turn him into the authorities? Classic tragedy. They’d be leaving behind everything that they made each other, which not only includes the heart transfer, but the way they grew because they inspired one another. William and Dakota have this reoccurring thing where they say they’re proud of each other, originating all the way back from s1. and although it’s kinda silly, even Dave and sweet summer child William from the rolleds are constantly saying how they wish to be like the other one day. It might not mean anything about og ghostkicks, but I believe since it’s still alternations of themselves that it’s worth mentioning. Dakota and William are practically parts of each other. they’re almost the definition of “paired package do not separate” with how they always end up together no matter what universe or alteration of themselves there are. (See ssc William and Dave, William Wight and Kota Kill [they have a whole thing going on it’s not healthy but I support it])

Now if Dakota chooses to stay with William? Still a tragedy in that Dakota would be sacrificing his morals and the standards that he holds himself to. And William would have to live with what he became, forcing his own friend to temporarily give up a part of his ideals from what he did, compromising far more for him than what either of them usually do. Because In Dakota’s hero way of seeing things, William should be locked up or at least put onto trial. He literally killed someone (even if it was accidental), unknowingly attempted murder on three more people, assisted in unauthorized and unconsensual surgery, and mentally tormented someone (David and X) twice. Now I’m no expert in law, but I know all of this breaks a LOT of them. As of right now, Dakota doesn’t know all of what William has done. but I doubt William would be able or willing to lie to him more in ep 34. I’m just really excited for July 1st

I had more in my head but I forgor 💀 anyways very big thanks if you got to the end of this ramble it’s probably a unintelligible and messy. please forgive me I am not a writer but I had to get these thoughts out. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk goodnight 💤

[santacoppelia]

I love this part of the process of writing:

Finding that, to locate the characters in a predefined time and space, I have to understand how they would relate to it. And that requires me to understand their personal preferences, especially their movies and music. And then I start researching. And find their music, and their movies. And suddenly they have a way of being in the world, a point of view, and they become a little more real.

And they are about to start dictating their scenes, because now they trust me to tell them right.

[masonscig]

girl help

[twistedappletree]

you don’t wanna know

how long i’ve been waiting,

how long’s it been for you?