#they just don’t get to see each other every shift

[rafecameronssl4t]

How do you plead? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: When Rafe Cameron is arrested for the shooting of Sheriff Peterkin, he's forced to work with a sharp, no-nonsense lawyer who won’t let his arrogance or half-truths stand in the way of justice. Tensions run high as they navigate a complex defence, uncovering the blurred lines between loyalty, desperation, and the truth.

Warnings: mention of peterkin’s death, other than that nothing!!

Word count: 1,757

MASTERLIST

“Cameron, your lawyer is here,” Shoupe announces, his voice firm, though tinged with a subtle amusement as he watches Rafe closely. His eyes are cold, assessing. Rafe’s reaction is immediate—a sharp furrow of his brow and a shake of his head as he scoffs, the words barely escaping his lips in a frustrated murmur.

“I don’t have one.” His tone is dismissive, as if rejecting the notion entirely, as though this is some kind of misunderstanding he refuses to accept. Shoupe stands still, arms crossed over his chest, a slight sneer tugging at the corners of his mouth. The man’s posture is relaxed, yet there’s an undeniable edge to him.

“You do now,” he retorts, his voice flat and unamused, but his eyes show just enough mockery to let Rafe know this isn’t a negotiation. He’s not backing down. The sound of high heels echo through the room, sharp clicks punctuating the otherwise silent space. With each stride, the noise grows louder, reverberating off the walls, deliberate and calculated.

Rafe doesn’t move, his gaze sharp as he turns, eyes narrowing when he sees you walking towards him. Your presence is commanding, every inch of you radiating confidence. Rafe’s mouth twitches as his disbelief builds, his body tensing as you close the distance. He steps forward, getting closer to the bars, his voice laced with disdain and confusion.

“You’re joking,” he mutters under his breath, but it’s loud enough to carry, a scoff slipping from his lips. He takes in your appearance slowly, his eyes raking over you from head to toe, the skeptical look clear in his eyes. His gaze then flickers to Shoupe, seeking any sign that this is, in fact, some kind of cruel joke. “Is this a joke? She’s my lawyer?”

His voice rises slightly, incredulous, the words coming out like a punch to the air. You pause, stopping just short of the bars, your posture straight, composed. Your gaze is steady, unwavering. “She has a name, Rafe,” you respond, your voice smooth, cool with just the faintest hint of authority. There’s no time for games now.

“And right now, she’s the only one who can get you out of here.” Rafe falls silent, his lips pressed together in a thin line as he stares at you, his eyes flicking between you and Shoupe, as though trying to reconcile this sudden turn of events. The sharp tension in the room is palpable, as if the air itself is holding its breath.

You hold his gaze without flinching, waiting for his response. After a moment, you add, almost as an afterthought, “Daddy isn’t going to get you out this time, Rafe.” The words hang between you two, weighted with a mixture of finality and challenge. Your voice remains steady, unbothered, but there’s a quiet edge that seems to dare him to defy you.

Rafe’s eyes flash briefly with something unreadable, but it quickly morphs into a scoffing expression. His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, a reflexive move as he rolls it against his cheek in frustration. He shifts his stance, leaning one shoulder against the cold steel bars as if attempting to dismiss you, but there’s a flicker of something more beneath the surface.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he mutters, a cocky smirk playing at the corner of his lips. But despite his bravado, there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes—one that he quickly hides behind the shield of his arrogance. You don’t flinch. You don’t blink. Your eyes stay locked on his, unwavering. You’ve been here before.

~

The loud scrape of the chair against the floor echoed through the sterile room as you set your briefcase and documents down on the table with deliberate precision. The sound seemed to make Rafe shift uncomfortably in his seat, his handcuffed wrists resting in his lap, fingers twitching slightly as if yearning for freedom. You couldn’t help but notice the raw marks around his wrists, the red imprints of metal that seemed to gnaw at his composure.

You raised an eyebrow, studying him for a moment, then turned your gaze toward the window. The faint outlines of officers could be seen behind the one-way glass, their eyes watching, waiting. Without missing a beat, you called out, your voice steady and commanding. “Take them off. He’s not going to do anything.”

The words were simple, but laced with authority, the kind that made the officers hesitate for only a moment before responding. The door creaked open, and one of the officers stepped in, his gaze flicking between you and Rafe before moving to unfasten the cuffs. Rafe’s eyes followed the movement, his expression flickering with the smallest hint of gratitude, though he kept his usual guarded demeanor intact.

The officer’s hands worked quickly, unclipping the cuffs and pulling them away with a faint click. Rafe’s hands immediately moved to his wrists, rubbing them gently as if trying to ease the discomfort. There was a brief, fleeting moment of relief on his face, his fingers massaging the raw skin where the cuffs had been too tight. He flexed his fingers, the action both absent and deliberate, trying to regain some sense of autonomy.

“Thanks,” Rafe muttered quietly, his voice rough, still laced with the remnants of defiance, but with a hint of weariness. His eyes didn’t meet yours immediately, instead lingering on the floor for a moment before he shifted his gaze back to you. You gave a slight nod, your posture relaxed, yet your eyes remained sharp.

“Now we can actually talk.” Your voice was level, no trace of impatience, but your tone made it clear you were getting down to business. Rafe shifted again, his movements more at ease now that the cuffs were gone, though the tension still lingered in his posture. He stretched his arms slightly, as if the simple act of having his hands free brought him a brief moment of relief, but you knew the real weight of the situation hadn’t lifted.

He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling as if searching for something—perhaps an escape from the mess he’s in. After a long moment of silence, he finally speaks, his voice strained but resolute. “I didn’t shoot the sheriff, you know.” His words are slow, measured, and there’s an underlying bitterness that hangs in the air.

“Rafe,” you say, your tone measured but firm, “you’re asking me to believe that everything happened in the heat of the moment, that you were acting to protect your father.” You pause, letting the silence draw out just enough to unsettle him. “But the evidence suggests a very different story.” He leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, visibly agitated.

“What evidence?” he snaps, though there’s an edge of desperation beneath his bravado. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what happened.” You hold his gaze, unfazed by his outburst. “The ballistics report, Rafe. The angle of the shot, the trajectory—it places you as the one who fired the fatal bullet. And the witnesses… multiple people reported seeing your father on his knees, unarmed, when Sheriff Peterkin attempted to place him under arrest. She was not reaching for her weapon to shoot him; she was doing her job.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his teeth grinding audibly. “She wasn’t just doing her job,” he growls, his voice low but simmering with anger. “She had it out for him—for us. She’s been gunning for our family for years. You think I’m going to sit there and let her take him down? She was going to shoot him, I know it.” You lean forward slightly, your expression unyielding.

“You think she was going to shoot him, or you know? Because those are two very different things, and in a court of law, assumptions don’t hold up against hard evidence.” Rafe looks away, his hands clenching into fists on the table. For a moment, you think he might lash out, but instead, he exhales sharply, his shoulders slumping. “I did what I had to do,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Your eyes narrow. “Try me,” you challenge, your voice sharp. “Because right now, what I understand is that you’re facing charges for the attempted murder of a sheriff, and your story has holes big enough to sink you. If you want me to defend you, I need the truth—not some half-baked narrative you think will get you out of this.” He flinches slightly at your words but quickly recovers, the defiance returning to his face.

“Fine,” he says, his tone clipped. “She had her gun out, okay? She was yelling at him, trying to take him in. My dad… he was panicking. She wouldn’t listen. She wasn’t going to listen. And yeah, I pulled the trigger. But what else was I supposed to do? Stand there and watch her ruin everything?” The admission hangs in the air like a bomb about to go off. You keep your expression neutral, though your mind is already racing.

“So, you’re admitting to shooting her, but you’re framing it as a split-second decision to protect your father,” you say carefully, your tone unreadable. “That’s your official story?” He nods, though there’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Yeah. That’s what happened.” You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms as you study him.

“Rafe, if you want any chance of me building a viable defense, you need to understand something. Self-defense—whether it’s for yourself or someone else—requires an imminent threat. The prosecution is going to argue that Sheriff Peterkin posed no such threat, that she was simply doing her job. And unless we can poke holes in their case, your ‘split-second decision’ might look more like cold-blooded murder to a jury.”

Rafe’s eyes darken, and he leans forward, his voice a low growl. “You think I’m some cold-blooded killer? Is that what this is?” “No,” you reply evenly. “I think you’re someone who made a choice in a high-pressure situation. But the law doesn’t care about how you felt in the moment. It cares about the facts. And right now, the facts are stacked against you.” For a moment, he says nothing, his gaze fixed on the table. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, almost vulnerable.

“I didn’t want to kill her. I just… I didn’t know what else to do.” You let out a slow breath, your voice softening slightly. “Then help me, Rafe. Help me find a way to make a jury believe that.”

[clairedaring]

Ahead of the Spare Me Your Mercy Finale premieres, here's an interview with screenwriter Lux on the portrayal of Euthanasia in the series

(source: mgronline; machine translated with minimal edits, my apologies for any inaccuracies)

The series "Spare Me Your Mercy" (Thai title: การุณยฆาต), airing on Channel One31, is approaching its conclusion. Starring Tor Thanapob Leeratanakajorn and JJ Krisanapoom Pibulsonggram, the series is based on a novel by Dr. Sam Isaree Siriwannakulkorn under the pen name Sammon. Known for works such as Manner of Death, Triage, Bite Me, and the recent 4MINUTES, Sammon's novels often intertwine themes of BL (Boys' Love) with medical narratives.

However, in this Channel One adaptation, the producers emphasized that the focus is not on the BL aspect but primarily on the medical themes. Lux Sirilux Srisukon, the creator and scriptwriter of Spare Me Your Mercy and a skilled member of the production house, explained the reasons behind adapting this story and delved into the nuances of the plot. Even though euthanasia is not yet legal in Thailand, the story explores how patients may make end-of-life decisions without violating medical ethics.

“Sammon's novels are mostly BL novels and include numerous love scenes. However, we deliberately chose not to present it as a BL story. While the characters are two men in love, we approached it with a dark drama style. The characters are gay, but we don’t offer [fan]service in every episode or include NC (explicit) scenes. This was our intention from the beginning when we started making this series.

We did this not because of censorship, airtime or actors. But because what we are trying to tell was heavy and serious. Having NC would steal the attention of the story because what we were going to talk about was dark drama and euthanasia. Some fans of the novel might be disappointed, but we think we have other fun things to offer, even if there’s no NC scenes. Our way of thinking is that this is not like a series that serves [the audience] (t/n: I understand Lux is trying to say that this isn't a feel-good, healing vibes serving drama).

For instance, in traditional male-female dramas, if the protagonists fall in love, they simply do. Similarly, this story is like any typical drama—it’s not about portraying same-sex or opposite-sex love, but it is just two people who love each other. We depict love scenes the same way we would in any regular drama. Viewers will see that these two characters love each other because we don’t see gay love as different from heterosexual love. It’s just two people finding each other, forming a bond, and falling in love.

When we spoke with the original author, she was also very supportive of this shift because she also wants to highlight the theme of euthanasia. Sammon's focus is also in line with the adaptation but since she is also a Sao Y and a BL novel writer, she understood her audience and enjoyed writing in that style.”

Lux says that she wants to clear up the misconceptions that many people may have that euthanasia must be caused by illness/ medical conditions, not because of life dissatisfaction or laziness and want to inject death.

“We wanted to portray what euthanasia really is because there are many misconceptions. People often misunderstand it in two extreme ways. First, they see it as equivalent to suicide. Second, they see it as an escape for those dissatisfied with life. For instance, some on X (re: Twitter) think, ‘I don’t need to think about the future; I’ll just live my life and then get an injection to die.’ That’s not possible anywhere in the world. That's a misconception.

Euthanasia doesn’t mean you can request an injection to die simply because you’re tired of life. Even in Europe, where euthanasia is legal, there are strict requirements. You must have a certified medical condition specified in the law, endorsed by at least two medical specialists, and the illness must be truly incurable and that you are waiting for death. The purpose of this law is to prevent these individuals from suffering. Instead of suffering for another year, they can die. It's not about being bored with life or lazy to live or not liking yourself when you're old, so you let them inject you with a lethal dose. They don't do that. Many people misunderstand that if you don't want to live, you can go for euthanasia.

But on the other side, some people say they wish the law would pass so they wouldn't have to take care of themselves when they're old. I'm bored, so I'll just go and get an injection. That's not how it works. Even in countries where it's legal, they won't do it. Or if a father has an illness that is still treatable, they won't allow it either. It’s only available for those truly nearing death, as certified by medical professionals. In cases where it is allowed, in countries where this law has been passed, as I explained earlier, and they only provide euthanasia to the relieve suffering of patients who are waiting for death.

And there are some countries that have already passed the law on euthanasia, and they have changed their minds and gone back to using the old law. The term 'euthanasia' itself is not beautiful. There can be many legal loopholes.

For example, a patient is very sick and old, but they don't want to die, but their relatives don't want to take care of them. They go and arrange for euthanasia. But if there aren't laws for it, there will be legal loopholes to allow murder. Some people may not be able to move or walk, but they still want to live. They don't want to die. The most important thing about euthanasia that doctors must discuss, which we will demonstrate in this case, is the patient's wishes. You must do it with awareness and a genuine desire to do it yourself, not pressured by relatives.

It's not like, "Mom, I can't take care of you. You're such a burden. Let's take you to get an injection." We understand that this is a sensitive issue. We don't want to cause arguments, but we want you to understand what we're trying to convey. Think seriously. Because if the day comes when the law needs to be changed and you don't understand it, when you ask yourself if you really want the law to be changed, we won't be able to answer because we don't really understand it.

Euthanasia in Thailand — Is It Suitable?

“Euthanasia is a thought-provoking topic. We interviewed doctors, and they said that euthanasia isn't suitable for wealthy people. If you ask a doctor in an expensive hospital, he will say that euthanasia is not suitable for Thailand because [the hospitals] already have everything that patients need to get through their final days well. But the condition is that you need money.

However, for poor people, just getting painkillers once a month is difficult. They have to endure the suffering. The doctor who wrote this article is the one who visits patients' homes. In small hospitals, when they encounter such cases, they think, 'Maybe there really needs to be something. Isn't euthanasia a necessity?'. Poor people with terminal cancer, in excruciating pain, but there is no one to take care of him, bring him medicine, or take them to see a doctor. Do they have to lie down and suffer like that? How are they supposed to live?' The accessibility to and public health welfare of our people are not equal. This is what we really wanted to convey.

I understand that BL fans might be disappointed, but if we focus on NC scenes to make people swoon, the core of the story will change. The weight of the story will go more towards that than the presentation of euthanasia.

The series will also feature other things to consider, one of them being a ‘living will,’ which has been legally recognized for decades. You can write a letter of intent stating that you are seriously ill, unresponsive, a vegetable, and do not need to be resuscitated. It is similar to a will, a 'patient's will', however, if you become unconscious and don't have full mental capacity, you won't be able to do this. And the doctor cannot not save our life because it is unethical. If doctors do not help, it will become a criminal offense, which is the same as letting us die.

This is legal and there's laws for it, but no one knows about it. It can be done without a lawyer, just with witnesses. We make one copy for ourselves and another for the hospital where we receive treatment. If we have the symptoms listed in the document, the doctor can let us go without providing treatment. We have to do it ourselves, relatives can't do it for us. This is not a legal loophole, there is a law for it, it's just not promoted. This is legal tool that can be used instead of euthanasia because it comes from the patient themselves. Everyone can become terminally ill. Cancer can happen to anyone. And when you're in those situations, how would you deal with it if euthanasia is not legal? You have to think ahead about what you will do."

tagging @recentadultburnout who can help vet for me if there are any inaccuracies from these machine translations

[persicipen]

𑑛 “GOLDEN HOUR” ﾉ SUNDAY. HONKAI STAR RAIL

afab gn reader ﾉ words 1.2k ᯽ reader is sunday’s personal assistant. secret affair. boss and employee relationship. slow sex after waking up. pulling out. cum swallowing. surprisingly domestic making out. happy sunday :3 ᯽ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

“Please, don’t get up yet. We still have some time… I can always explain if you’re late,” he murmurs into your hair, scooping your body closer.

The only reply he hears is just a soft sigh as you let yourself be convinced.

The sheets are messy, crumpled, and you already think how long it will take you to change them because of this delay. As if sensing your mind being preoccupied with something else, Sunday starts smooching you all across your head, getting closer to your face, the feathery touch tickling you here and there slightly until you giggle into his lips and reciprocate the direct kiss.

There are no mornings or evenings in Penacony.

Always an hour set by the clock, and everyone just lives around it. It’s dark behind the curtains of the guest bedroom in his office, but, in all honesty, it’s constantly dark in here, if not counting the dazzling and sparkling, shimmering spectacle of lights of the neons, billboards, lamps and other attractions the Golden Hour can offer.

There’s only one rule here — live to the fullest.

For once, the prim and proper young man tries to apply it to his own routine, risking not arriving according to the schedule to his upcoming meeting just to feel your body close to his own once more.

“I promise I’ll be quick. Well, am I even wrong if I said you’re not against such a welcome after opening our eyes, hm?”

“Hush, now… You always surprise me.”

“How so?”

“Calm and benevolent leader of the Family suddenly acting a little bratty, a spoiled boy who needs his hugs before work.”

He runs his hand across your shoulder, leaving goosebumps where he touches. Then his fingers glide downwards along your side and waist until he cups your thigh and pulls your leg over himself before you can even react.

“Don’t say that.” His voice is buttery soft, a tingle of laugh reverberating at the ending note meaning he liked the joke. “You’re the only one who can see me in such a state. You’re the only one I allow in my bed… and to make scandalous claims about one of the most important figures in Penacony.”

He shifts slowly with the smile — a genuine one — disappearing from the corner of his mouth a moment before he rubs his cock between your folds. The intent is obvious — to have you wrap yourself around him with every limb like ivy.

Resting foreheads against each other, dishevelled hair tangled together and, almost moaning out loud from your intoxicating heat and wetness, he places the tip inside.

“Ah…” you hum sweetly and your whole frame trembles at this movement that was meant as a casual gesture and gets turned into a pleasurable foreplay so easily.

It’s difficult not to rush. He holds onto control tightly, keeps himself contained and careful so much that sometimes it makes you want to see him break out of these walls, come undone completely with passion. This time is no different. It seems as if you could barely hear his heartbeat quickening up against your ear while you press your lips against each other, swallowing little sounds. But he slides into you with caution nonetheless, enjoying every inch of you wrapping around his length.

Slowly, carefully, steadily, he’s making love to you for minutes now. Soft cries die out between ruffled bedsheets along with the quiet, slick noises of his cock dragging through your walls and pulling back in, covered with your juices. The leisurely pace is just perfect for you today — there’s no need for excitement nor to have a shattering orgasm.

Everything is so warm, cosy and satisfying…

And then Sunday picks up the tempo abruptly.

The feeling is so sudden; it catches you off-guard. Your inner walls are hugging him tightly in response to the new, rougher approach, but he doesn’t give up. Now it’s the tip hitting that sensitive spot inside, which sends waves of pleasure all over your body and you have to moan out loud to release the tension.

“I… ha-aah! I thought you decided to take it s-slow!” You pant in surprise and protest. It only makes him chuckle at first as he watches your flustered expression with interest and adjusts your hips slightly to reach even deeper.

“Forgive me this time, will you, dove?”

“Mhm, I should’ve not teased you, then…”

“Exactly— ngh!”

The friction is too much to handle. What he sees is you — a quivering mess — panting faster with your eyes closed shut to deal with it, borders perfection. Your chest heaves shakily against his own one with every huff. But he wouldn’t dare stop again when you’re reacting so intensely, not unless you tell him so.

Untangling your arms from himself before he manages to pull himself up just so he can comfortably reach between your bodies and put his hand on your clit, just above the delicate flesh that now parts with each of his thrusts. You squeal from this stimulation at once and squirm under him, trying to hold on to his forearms.

The tender bud swells even more under his fingertips and Sunday smiles watching your body jerking suddenly and reflexively with every move he makes. He knows exactly how you like to be touched, never turning away his gaze from your reactions.

You’re moaning out loud as if you had no worries about being heard and he wonders if maybe he could make you scream out his name someday — but maybe not yet, not when you two shouldn’t even be in one bed.

Brows furrowing with an upcoming climax, he gives some extra attention to your clit for a while until, at last, there’s no way back for you. His wings flutter, hearing you singing cries of relief and pleasure. You shudder through your entire silhouette; your hole grips on him from the inside and releases him with sodden warmth. Hissing at this, he’s barely able to pull out in time and clumsily crawls up on top of you while fisting his cock above your face.

Ignoring the heatwave rushing down your every nerve, you open your mouth and let him smack the tip over your tongue a few more times before spurts of cum fall right on it. High on the ecstasy of the recent orgasm, your mind goes blank, you let your lover milk the last drops out into your throat whilst you continue to suckle on the very end of his slit.

As you’re coming to your senses and the bliss of afterglow subsides, Sunday begins cleaning you and his own cock up, planting a gentle kiss on your temple with a heavy breath before sitting upright on the bed.

“Would you consider not wearing me down first thing after waking up?“

At first, after hearing your question, he remains silent with a distant smile, stroking your cheek as he continues cleaning your body with wet wipes he keeps on the nightstand.

“Well, just another perk of staying here until late system hours,” he eventually replies, quietly, almost like an afterthought, and then proceeds to gather the clothes for another day. “I’m always waiting to see you come to tell that I should rest. Just so I can hug you and take you to bed with me…” he confesses softly, the same vague, half-amused, half-wistful look in his eyes.

“I see you’re always planning two steps ahead.”

“Unfortunately, not this time. As much as I would love for it to be true, I’m yet to think of a satisfactory excuse for my delayed arrival.”

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

OK, so what was the warlords reaction the first time reader had her monthly cycle around them? like seriously that is basically like a curse on all human females and I can’t help but wonder how they reacted when she first started her monthly cycle around them and what was the first thing that they noticed? Her discomfort towards the cramps or the smell of blood? 

So in Cursed Warlords the duo are cursed for around three months before Reader is sent back to her world. (Which they DID NOT agree to!) So they see her experience her period when they’re still cursed. And before they even like her actually. (They like her, they just won’t admit it)

Macaque woke up to the sound of your low groaning his ears picking up the sound of your discomfort. He looked over to you before getting up and looking you over. You were curled up in pain as you seemingly tried to make whatever pain go away.

He took one sniff and immediately looked you over when he could smell BLOOD. He didn’t want to smell blood, why did he smell blood, were you okay what happened!? He nudged your face causing you to open your eyes as he looked at your kind of pale face.

You couldn’t even say a word before Wukong was letting out chirps and chitters of fear as he too looked you over. His tail flicked as he looked you over but couldn’t find anything except by your-

“Fuck, I can’t believe I got a period NOW,” You muttered sitting up causing Spirit to shift in her sleep before waking up.

Both of the monkey cubs were freaking out, worried for your heath and safety. What happened!? Why were you bleeding!? How did you get hurt!? What was a period!?

“A what?” Spirit muttered in confusion.

“A period, You know that time of month that every woman has,” You muttered in irritation.

Both monkeys slowed down… this was- normal? They were both wildly confused, there was no way that this blood was normal. Right? Their thoughts were proven wrong when Reader explained a little more.

“A period?” Spirit asked her eyes narrowing.

“A human woman has a four week cycle, roughly 28 days for most. And for a few days each cycle a woman bleeds,” You mutter curling into yourself again at the pain.

It wasn’t long before you were bombarded by the three chirps, chitters and Spirit asking how she can help. You let out a sigh when Wukong jumped onto your abdomen which caused Spirit to shout, but the warmth he produced was welcome. He cuddled up to you and it helped with the pain, a lot.

Seeing that you were feeling better Spirit couldn’t do anything to move the monkey. Even as the other curled up to you as well. They just wanted you to feel better, especially knowing that it was causing you pain. You had to slow the whole journey down some because of this.

I would write more, but I���m going to write more into this sort of thing in the fanfic! But regardless I hope you enjoyed. The warlords would be worried for you, frantic until they learn its natural. Even after they wouldn’t like knowing you were in pain.

Once they return to their normal size and shape they’ll be able to help you better. They would treat you like a queen but since they know what this is, they won't be freaking out which is good because you don’t want two frantic warlords running around. Do you?

Hope you enjoyed!

[shartletswritings]

Prove to me

Non-Canon one shot set within the You've Dug Your Own Grave story

TW: Smutttt and not much else Happy holidays!! I wanted to make you all a little, sinful, christmas present. I do hope you enjoy!! I wrote this like… immediately after writing the first chapter of YDYOG because I needed a break from all the angst I was about to write (and because I’m a whore). Thank you all for the endless support, I know I say it every time and I sound like a broken record, but it genuinely baffles me how many of y’all read my stories and engage with my content. All my love and enjoy!!

            You stand with your back to the kitchen door; your full attention is on the jars of tea in front of you. You’re beginning to believe that this is the hardest decision you have ever had to make: mint and licorice or chamomile? Absentmindedly you pull on your bottom lip with your fingers as you deliberate. Would a combination be bad? It can’t be that bad.

            It takes a few minutes of rummaging through various drawers to locate a steeper among the mess of utensils. “Found you, fucker,” you whisper to the ball of metal. You decide a scoop of each is appropriate for one mug. After pouring the water into your mug you plop the steeper unceremoniously into the water, a small splash lapping over the rim.

            You spin on your heels to look for a snack to take back with you to your room when you notice that the lights on the far end of the kitchen have been switched off. Another black out? We just had one the other night. You sigh, you’ll be out in a few minutes anyways and you have plenty of candles waiting in your room if the power does go out. You fill a small bowl with some corn-puffed snack sitting on a far corner and put it on a tray next to the mug. You smile at the paint on the side which had been done by Aster a few weeks back. The memory of her chubby little hands smudging greens and purples onto the previously gray surface.

            Another noise catches your attention; something slams close behind you and you whip around but only see the door to the mess hall hanging open slightly. It must be the wind. You chide yourself for being so nervous. Just as you are about to pick the tray up and leave when the hair on the back of your neck stands up. This time you are certain someone is behind you, which is odd because you don’t remember hearing someone come in.

            You start to turn slowly when a low, harsh voice bites out, “Don’t.”

            You let out the anxious breath you were holding, a smile spreading on your face, “Scar, you scared the sh-”

            You are cut off by a hand clapping down on your mouth. He shifts slightly behind you, and you suddenly feel his breath, hot and deep in your ear, “You’re lucky it’s me here, Kir,” the bite in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, “what have I told you about letting your guard down?”

            He releases his hand just enough for you to speak, “I can handle myself. We’ve talked about this,” you put your hands down on the counter in front of you, bristling at his need to protect you.

            “We have,” his breath still tickles your ear, “and yet I was able to get all the to you before you even realized I was in the building.”

            “That’s not fair, you’re quieter than most people. And besides, I’d sense their… aura or something; I’d know if there was someone out to get me.”

            “You aren’t nearly as funny as you think you are,” Scar sounds unamused and you can’t really blame him, it wasn’t the smartest thing to say.

            You go to turn towards him again but his hand clamps down on your jaw to keep your head forward, claws pressing into the soft skin of your cheeks. “If you don’t want me to coddle you, prove to me you can handle yourself,” he all but growls, “I’ll give you a two-minute head start… now run.”

            It takes you a few seconds to process what he says before it clicks. It takes you a few more seconds to decide whether or not to indulge him; on the one hand you don’t need his damn oversight on your safety, you sure as hell aren’t weak or incapable. But on the other hand… it is really fucking hot.

            The pressure that had been gradually building in the pit of your belly finally snaps and you feel electric. As if sensing the change in your chemistry, Scar releases your jaw and takes a step back, giving you the room needed to bolt.

            The darkness filling the empty kitchen makes your escape more difficult than it should be, but something inherent in your blood directs you back out into the courtyard of the hideout. Dust kicks up under your boots and the only light available to you comes from windows with half-drawn blinds. Figuring out where to go is the hardest part; you know that the first spots to pop into your mind are undoubtedly what Scar will also think of. Any place shrouded in complete darkness is marked off immediately on your imaginary list due to his godsdamned eyes which eliminates about half of the places you could reasonably get to in the constricting two minutes he’s given you. Your hoverboard is also inaccessible from where it sits back in your quarters which means you’ll need to find somewhere to hide in the base and fast.

            You turn towards the tree, scrambling up the scaffolding of the mural and onto the balcony of Ekko’s workshop. Mercifully, it is both empty and unlocked. You slip inside, crouch under one of the tables, and wait. It’s dark in here, sure, but there is enough of a glow from the courtyard that you can make out everything in the room with some sense of clarity; at least he won’t be able to sneak up on you.

            Your skin feels electric and every sound has you jumping. The fear is primal, something innate within your core. You’re not scared of Scar of course, but right now you’re fucking terrified and it’s exhilarating. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been waiting. Five minutes? Ten? Time passes strangely.

            The door opens slowly and for a moment you don’t think it’s Scar with how gentle the nob turns, but the second you see the toe of his boot your heart leaps into your throat. You stick a hand over your mouth to try and muffle your breathing as you press yourself further back into the shadows under the table. He takes a few more steps into the room, turning his head, searching for you.

            You let loose the breath you had been holding as he turns, thinking he’s finally leaving, when he whips his head back around at the sound. “I know you’re in here, Kirranari.” Damn it all. You realistically have about five seconds before he pinpoints your location under the table. It takes you three to make a decision. Sure, you could run again, but where’s the fun in that?

            You rocket out from your hiding spot and rush him, slamming your weight into his chest. He stumbles back and into a wall, thankfully missing the shelf of Ekko’s glass scientific instruments. He lets out a low oof and looks down at you and your forearm pressed into his chest, almost impressed and you feel a rush of pride despite yourself.

            The moment is ruined by his clawed hands wrapping around your wrist and twisting you around to slam you into the wall. His chest presses against your back and your face smushes into the wooden wall. “Not good enough, Kir,” his voice rumbles deeply against your body and a new wave of heat flushes through you. He must know what he’s doing. From the way his breath puffs hot against your ear, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing. Asshole.

            With a huff, you drop low despite the wall scraping against your face and push yourself back under his legs. Before he can react, you jump up behind him and clammer onto his back. He bucks like a wild animal, but the bruising grip of your arms around his neck and legs around his chest keeps him from throwing you off. A knife slips down from your sleeve, and you allow the glint of the metal to catch in the faint light from the window. The blade is pointed away from him, but he can see that you weren’t unarmed, even in the relative safety of the hideout.

            You bring your mouth down to his ear, “Still think I can’t handle myself?” He stills for a moment, a snarl forming on his face, and you fight the urge to smile. With a quick nip to his ear you drop back to the ground, leaving him motionless for another second before he spins back towards you, his face a mix of lust and aggravation.

            “You got lucky,” he looks down at you, and you have to fight the urge to cower under his gaze. You aren’t afraid of him, of course, but you haven’t gotten this far in the undercity without a healthy amount of innate caution.

            “Right. Cuz it’d kill you to say that I did something correctly.” He opens his mouth to protest but before he can say anything, you sweep a leg towards his knees. Not expecting the blow, his knees buckle, and he crashes to the ground under his own weight.

            Unfortunately, before you can get a healthy amount of gloating out, you feel an arm wrap around your wrist to pull you down on top of him. He pins your arms to the ground, forcing you to lean over his head. You pant as you stare down at his blown-out pupils, “I only let you do that cuz you’re hot. Just so ya know. If you were anyone else, it’d be a different story.”

            He looks up at you in silence, the ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. Suddenly, claws make their way into your hair and pull, bringing your face up to his. Your lips only meet for a moment before his tongue presses its way into your mouth. He pulls back for a moment, “Would you let anyone else do this?” His voice is slightly hoarse, thick with lust.

            You hum thoughtfully, “Who’s to say really. I have such a hard time making up my mind, but I can think of a few I’d let kiss me.” You’re taunting him, you’re absolutely aware of that. But the dark, fierce eyes he looks at you with twinge something deep in your gut and you find yourself unable to stop. “Maybe if Ekko or Jordyn asked me nicel-”

            He growls and flips your bodies to cut you off, pinning you under his weight. “Sounds like I’m not doing enough to keep you around, then.” You grin mischievously, “It sounds like I need to remind you how much you mean to me.” He grabs one of your hands and reaches it down to cup the growing bulge in his pants and your breath catches in your throat. It’s his turn to grin as he lowers his mouth to your neck, assaulting it with nips kisses.

            You arch your back into his chest, a breathy moan ripping through your throat. “You think I’d be doing this for anyone else?” he asks, his lips attacking the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. He bites down when you don’t answer, “I asked you a question,” he chastises with a shockingly level voice against your pathetic cry.

            “N-no,” you breath into the darkness of the room and you can feel him smile against your skin. How does he always manage to reduce me to an incoherent mess, you think distantly as you struggle aimlessly against his weight.

            His hand releases your wrists and pushes the hem of your shirt up to your collarbone, tugging the band around your breasts down to lay loosely around your stomach. Painfully slowly, his lips make their way towards the hardened peaks of your nipples, but he doesn’t touch them directly. Instead, he focuses his attention on the soft skin of your breasts, eliciting a cry of frustration from your lips. You can feel the bastard smile against your skin again and you begin to get impatient. Bringing your free hand to his hair you pull, forcing his head to angle towards you.

            His top lip curls into a sneer as he is ripped away from his efforts at teasing you, you smile innocently at him. In a burst of movement you slither out from under him once more and hop to your feet, pulling your shirt back down to cover your chest. He looks up at you for a moment, still kneeling on the floor. “Did you think the game was done?” you ask, sweetly.

            Before he has even brought himself to his feet, you are already halfway to Ekko’s balcony. You pause for an instant to glance back behind you to lay eyes on a very angry looking Scar. Electricity pulses through you once more as you swing down from the balcony and onto the ground of the courtyard. A few moments later, you hear the heavy thud of Scar’s boots hitting the ground behind you. A terrified laugh rips from your chest as you take off in a sprint towards the gym.

            You make it nearly the entire way there before Scar tackles you from behind, sending the two of you tumbling towards the floor of the hallway. He pants hard in your ears, “There’s the rat I know.” You pause for a moment at his use of your nickname in your own tongue and he chuckles over you. He crushes down harder on top of you as you work to wriggle out of his grasp and into the gym like you had planned. “You think I’d let you get away again?”

            His threat sends blood flow exactly where you don’t need it, and you find yourself unable to come up with a useful escape plan. Nearly his entire weight is pressing you down onto the ground below with his hands wrapped securely around your upper arms and you can feel the weight of his hardened cock against your ass.

            “You’re pressing into my arms, Scar, it hurts,” you cry out breathlessly. He lets up immediately, mumbling an apology. You push yourself up and back into a run towards the gym, yelling to him over your shoulder, “You’re too fucking gullible.”

            He tackles you again almost as soon as you burst through the door, this time on a mat, and hisses into your ear, “You’re beginning to test my patience, Kir.” Before you can even react, he is yanking your pants down below your hips, “such a fucking tease,” he mumbles, an animalistic strength coursing through his veins.

            You arch your ass closer to his face, “I’m just doing what you asked,” you reply as innocently as possible.

            He growls and yanks your underwear down to lay with your pants at your ankles, one hand still pressed firmly against the small of your back. Fingers trail down to the wet heat of your slit, “Soaked already? You like being chased?” He rubs a finger against your throbbing clit, and you press your face to the mat below you to muffle your mewls of pleasure. “Fuck… you like being hunted down, don’t you?” You feel primal. You feel terrified. You feel fucking amazing.

            Lifting your head just enough, you answer him with a pathetic sounding whimper, “mmm-yes.” You cry out again in dismay as he removes his hand from your cunt. He shifts behind you and the squelch of his hand working your slick up and down the length of his dick fills the room. You arch you ass higher, desperate to be filled, and he only laughs.

            “That needy?” He presses the tip slowly into you and you sigh. Unfortunately, the bastard has other plans and quickly pulls back out and rocks his slick covered cock between your ass cheeks. You mumble incoherently and he laughs again, “Not so funny when you’re the one being teased, is it?”

            “S’not the same,” you mutter, one cheek squished against the mat distorting your words.

            He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls, lifting your head up from the ground slightly. “I can’t understand you when you whine like that. Why don’t you tell me what you need?” If you could glare, you would probably be lighting the room on fire with the intensity of your frustration, unfortunately all you can do is cry out at the lack of stimulation where you need him most. “I can’t hear you, Kir, what is you want?”

            This asshole is gonna make me say it? “Wan’… fuck… m,’” is all you manage. Jannah I’m pathetic.

            He adjusts himself ever so slightly so he can rub his cock against your clit, coating it further in your wetness, “You gotta give me more than that,” he whispers into your ear before nipping at the cartilage. Fuck if he keeps going like that… Another yank on your hair pulls your attention back to the present.

            Sucking in a breath, you finally say, “Fuck me, please…”

            It’s all he needs to hear to sheathe himself within you completely in one stroke. Your breath catches in your throat as you nearly choke at the complete fullness… the deliciously painful stretch of your cunt around him. Your legs are still pressed together by your pants and his weight bears down on you as he fucks you into the mat, making you tighter than normal. From the ragged breathing in your ear, you aren’t the only one affected by the position, which brings some amount of triumph to your cock-drunk brain.

            A hand wraps around your hips to pull your ass higher, crushing your head farther into the ground and rendering you almost completely immobile. All you can do is fucking take it as he bottoms out into your needy cunt, squeezing helplessly around his dick. You manage to cry his name desperately, the sound mixing with the squelch of your wetness and the clap of his hips meeting your ass.

            His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you can feel the heat of his breath on your naked skin. A distant, far away voice in your head tells you to be a bit more weary of the fact literally anyone could walk in and see the two of you, but teeth sinking into the flesh of your neck cleanses the last shreds of logical thought from your mind.

            “F-fuck you’re so tight,” he bites out in between thrusts, “you like this? You like being fucked on the ground?” All you can do is cry out and clench harder around him. “Gonna split my cock in half,” he warns into your ear, but you can’t help it.

            “M-more, please,” you murmur into the floor, praying he could hear you over the noise your bodies make.

            Scar laughs breathlessly over you, “Never satisfied, are you?”

            The hand that had been tangled into your hair travels down your back and onto your other hip, pulling you up to your knees. Your arms lay uselessly on the ground and you turn your head to see Scar as he thrusts into you from behind. Between your legs, you can make out the wet form of his cock in the darkness as it hammers into your greedy hole, pants pulled down below his waist just enough to free himself. His brows furrowed in concentration and eyes dark with lust pull your attention from the movement of his body.

            Your once wet mouth goes dry at the sight of how seriously he takes your pleasure. Almost like he loves m-. He catches your eye and smirks, bringing a hand around to press into your throbbing clit and you turn your head back to the mat to muffle the sounds of your cries.

            “You gonna cum for me? Huh?” He digs his claws into your hips, and you begin to twitch.

            “Yes!” you’re barely audible, but from the way he grips you, you can tell he heard you well enough.

            It doesn’t take long for you to finish; the pressure of his finger on your clit, the unforgiving rhythm of his hips, the sound of his barely silenced groans of pleasure, it all becomes too much. When you do shatter, it’s nearly world ending. Tearing a hand up, you desperately attempt to cover the sound of your screams as your legs shake and finally give out.

            “Just like that… T-that’s my girl.”

            You collapse down to the floor and clamp down on his cock like a vice. He stutters for a moment but resumes his thrusts to fuck you in your now prone posture through the waves of pleasure.

            His own release comes soon after and you can practically feel the pressure building deep in his gut. He presses a hand to the top of your back, anchoring you to the floor as he chases his own pleasure. The only signal he gives you is a shout that sounds almost like your name before he pulls out. You feel him spilling onto your back, painting the soft skin with ropes of thick, hot cum. His head drops back to your shoulder, and he stills, panting, arched above your still twitching form.

            After what feels like ages of comfortable silence, he finally presses a kiss to your neck, tongue smoothing the swiftly reddening marks in the unmistakable shape of his teeth.

            “You take me so well, always so good for me,” he whispers against your skin. Pulling his tank over his head, he begins to mop up the puddle of cum on your pack; pressing gentle kisses into your back as he cleans you up, murmuring your praise the whole time. Once he is satisfied that you are taken care of, he tucks himself back into his pants.

            Just as you gather the strength to pull yourself up from the floor, the door to the gym opens. Your eyes go wide as they meet with Geo’s and you squeal, hands moving to cover your chest.

            “What the fuck?” He asks, his face going red and a hand shooting up to cover his eyes. Scar whips his head around to glare at the unfortunate man. “Are you kidding me? You’re… here?” His voice is about two octaves higher than normal.

            “Get out,” Scar growls and you fight the urge to slap him. The two of you are so obviously in the wrong here it hurts. You wriggle your pants over your hips and hop to your feet.

            “Don’t. We’re leaving,” you grab Scar by the hand and march out of the room, too horrified to look Geo in the eyes. He mumbles something at the two of you but you’re already halfway down the hallway.

            “Fucking asshole,” Scar mutters, his cum-soaked shirt balled in one fist. You wheel around on your heels to glare up at him.

            “We were the problem there,” you retort, a hand going to your hip.

            “He coulda knocked.”

            “We were fucking in the gym! What were we thinking?” You run an exasperated hand down your face, “What the hell are you doing to me, Scar?” He looks hurt for a moment, brow furrowing in concern. You roll your eyes and press a finger into his bare chest, “I am not the kinda girl that fucks people in public, and yet you have turned me into this horny…” you search for the right word, “monster!”

            His worried expression cracks into a smug grin, “You’re the one that ran to the gym. We coulda stayed in the workshop.”

            You let out an exasperated noise, “And have Ekko walk in on us? No fucking way. Geo is one thing, but him? I’d rather die!”

            He shrugs shamelessly, “Guess we can just go back to your room then.”

            Your eyes widen as you shoot him a dubious look, “Back…more?”

            His smile is all sharp teeth as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, a hand resting on your ass, and takes off towards your quarters, “You thought we were done? I’m just gettin started, Kir.”      

Tag List: @kiannaf @awenthealchemist @calciferthelivingfire @bakugokatsuki18-blog @ariwolfsstuff @mcaats  @radflapkidsludge @honeym0chi @veggiesoupdumpling @vicki--mouse  @im-jasmine @bearinthesnow

[bradleysass]

Gifts and Christmas Day - @noblehouseofgay - word count: 613 - 25 Days of Jegumas - Part 1 | part 2 :) James gets his present from Reg

Regulus wasn’t much for grand gestures or sentimental speeches, but when it came to James, he found himself going to lengths he never thought he would. For weeks leading up to Christmas, he had been quietly working on something that, if executed properly, would leave James speechless.

The morning of Christmas was a blur of warmth and laughter. James had been practically vibrating with excitement all day, basking in the magic of giving Regulus the book. Regulus, meanwhile, had been his usual composed self, though James swore he caught the faintest flicker of nerves as they worked through their pile of gifts.

There was one small box left under the tree, wrapped in plain black paper with a neatly tied ribbon. Regulus picked it up, holding it out to James without a word.

“This from you?” James asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

James tore into the wrapping like a child, grinning the whole time—until he pulled out a small, glossy frame. His grin faltered, replaced by a look of pure astonishment as he stared at the photograph inside.

It was a picture of his parents—Fleamont and Euphemia Potter—taken years before their health had declined. They were younger, standing in front of the Potter family home, arms around each other and smiling wide, full of life. The photograph wasn’t just moving, as wizarding photos often did—it was practically glowing. There was something about the way it captured them that felt alive, vibrant. James’ mother’s laugh was almost audible, and his father’s mischievous wink might as well have been directed at him.

“How…” James’ voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “How did you—?”

Regulus shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable under James’ wide, astonished gaze. “Your house is like a vault of family history,” he said quietly. “I found it tucked away in one of the old trunks in your attic. It was damaged, but I—” He hesitated, then gestured vaguely. “I repaired it. Restored it, really.”

James was utterly silent for a moment, his thumb brushing over the edge of the frame. He’d thought he’d lost every image of his parents like this, healthy and happy. The memories were there, of course, but seeing them again like this—it felt like a gift from another time.

“I—Merlin, Reg—” James exhaled sharply, his eyes suspiciously glassy. He set the frame carefully on the floor beside him, then lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Regulus in a fierce hug.

Regulus made a startled noise, stiff at first, before relaxing into James’ embrace. “You’re crushing me,” he muttered, but there was no bite to his words.

James pulled back just enough to look at him, his face split into a grin that was somehow brighter than the firelight. “This is���you have no idea what this means to me.”

Regulus tilted his head, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “I think I do.”

James surged forward again, kissing Regulus like the world was about to end, pouring every ounce of his gratitude, his love, his everything into it. When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, James rested his forehead against Regulus’.

“You’re bloody perfect, you know that?” James whispered, his voice still thick with emotion.

Regulus huffed a quiet laugh, his hand finding its place at the nape of James’ neck. “And you’re insufferable. But I suppose I don’t mind.”

And for the rest of the day, James carried the photo with him, setting it carefully beside him no matter where they went, as if it were the most precious thing in the world—second only to the man who’d given it to him.

[alwayssassydreamer]

Fire Up The Night

A/N: usually i don't write for Marco but this was a gift for a friend (I don’t remember if you wanted me to tag you or stay "anonymous" 😅) actually meant to be posted on christmas but i f'd up sorry so here's your belated gift

Plot: during a sparring session with marco things take a heated turn

Warnings: smut, nsfw, p in v (implied), MDNI

Characters: Marco x F!Reader

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the training deck, the energy between you and Marco shifted.

You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, fueling your movements as you danced around him.

This time, however, there was no holding back. You were done playing it safe; it was time to take your game to the next level.

With a fierce determination, you feigned to the left, then spun around, aiming for his ribs. Marco anticipated the move and sidestepped effortlessly, but you were quick, pivoting to regain your balance and lunging at him again, your sword gleaming in the fading light.

“Not bad,” he admitted, a hint of challenge in his voice. “But you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to catch me.”

With a sharp intake of breath, you charged at him, forcing him to parry your blows with renewed vigor. Each strike was heavier, fueled by the desire to break through his defenses—not just in the sparring match but in the tension that simmered beneath the surface.

You could see it in his eyes—he was enjoying this just as much as you were, relishing the challenge and the way you pushed him to his limits.

In a sudden surge of boldness, you slipped past his guard, maneuvering your body against his.

“Let’s see how well you handle this,” you teased, leaning in closer, your lips nearly brushing against his cheek as you pressed your body against him.

Marco’s breath hitched for a moment, surprise flashing in his eyes, but it quickly morphed into something darker—something primal.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a challenge.

“I know,” you replied, your tone sultry and daring. “But a little danger makes things more......interesting.”

With that, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your level. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the heat radiating between your bodies.

Before he could react, you pressed your lips against his with a fiery passion that ignited the air around you. The kiss was bold and demanding, and Marco responded immediately, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

But this time, he was no longer just reacting. He took control, pushing you back against the wooden training post, pinning you there with a heat that left you breathless. His mouth moved against yours with a fierce urgency, a mix of desire and raw power that sent shivers down your spine.

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the strength in his grip making you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated. The kiss became more frantic, more desperate, as you lost yourselves in each other, the boundary between rivalry and something deeper blurring with every passing moment.

As you broke away, panting, your foreheads resting against each other, you could see the desire swirling in his eyes—a hunger that matched your own.

“You’re not afraid to get rough, are you?” he asked, his breath mingling with yours, hot and intoxicating.

“Never,” you shot back, a playful challenge lacing your voice. "Are you?”

He grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye making your heart race.

“Oh, I think I can manage.”

Without warning, he grabbed your wrist again, his grip firm as he twisted you around, forcing you to face the post with your hands pinned above your head.

“Let’s see how long you can keep up this little game of yours,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

A thrill shot through you as you leaned into the pressure, feeling both restrained and excited.

“You think you can intimidate me?” you taunted, your voice low and sultry. “I’ll show you how resilient I am.”

With a swift movement, Marco released one of your wrists, giving you just enough freedom to turn slightly, your bodies brushing together in a tantalizing way. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the power he exuded sending another wave of desire crashing over you.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him again.

“But you’ll need to be careful. You don’t want to get burned.”

With that, he pressed his lips against yours once more, this time with a fierce passion that left no room for doubt. The kiss deepened, turning more demanding, filled with urgency and a wildness that matched the chaos brewing between you

Each kiss sent another wave of excitement through your body, a thrilling mix of pleasure and urgency.

Marco’s lips were like a fever, igniting every nerve ending as he deepened the kiss, pulling you further into this whirlwind of desire.

Then, as if sensing the tension escalating, Marco decided to turn it up a notch.

His hand slid under your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin with a careful yet possessive touch that made your breath hitch. You gasped into his mouth, feeling his warmth seep into your very core.

The sensation of his fingertips exploring your waist was electric, setting your skin alight in a way you’d never experienced before.You moved your hands instinctively, trailing them along his firm chest, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your fingers. The heat radiating from him only intensified the thrill coursing through your veins.

It was thrilling to explore this side of him, and you relished the way he reacted to your every touch.

“God, you’re intoxicating,” Marco breathed against your lips, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and urgency.

His fingers continued their journey, tracing delicate patterns along your sides, igniting every inch of your skin where he touched.

"Maybe I should be saying the same about you,” you replied, your tone teasing as you leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his neck. The taste of him lingered in your mouth, and the raw desire swirling between you was palpable.

He tightened his grip on you, pulling you even closer as he tilted his head to give you better access. You kissed along the line of his jaw, feeling the hard contours of his body pressed against yours, making it hard to think straight.

The urgency of the moment made your heart race, and as Marco’s hand slid higher under your shirt, you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. The sound fueled him further, and he turned to press you against the wooden wall again, his body pinning you in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and powerful.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” he asked, a challenge lacing his voice as his gaze locked onto yours. The intensity of his expression sent shivers down your spine, the playful game now teetering on the edge of something much more profound.

“I’ve never backed down from a challenge,” you shot back, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was hungry, filled with a passion that had been building between you from the very start.

As you pulled away momentarily to catch your breath, Marco’s fingers lingered just under your ribs, teasingly brushing against your skin.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” he warned, his voice low and husky, filled with a mixture of desire and something more protective.

“And I’m not afraid to get burned,” you replied, your confidence surging.

You could see the flicker of approval in his eyes, the way his smile hinted at both amusement and admiration.

“Are you really sure about this?” Marco murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your lips

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't,” you replied, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. You could feel the warmth pooling in your core, igniting every nerve ending as you surrendered to the moment. With a determined glint in your eyes, you pulled him closer.

Every touch felt electric, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, craving more of the heat he radiated.

“I want to see how far we can take this,” you whispered, your voice a mix of challenge and invitation. There was something intoxicating about the way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Marco’s eyes darkened with desire, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Careful what you wish for,” he replied, his tone teasing yet serious.

His hands moved again, this time sliding lower, finding the hem of your shirt and pushing it up, revealing more of your skin. The cool air sent goosebumps racing across your body, heightening your awareness of every sensation.

“I could easily take you right here,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise.

The heat in his gaze made your heart race, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. You raised an eyebrow, feeling bold.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you teased, your voice laced with challenge.

The air crackled with tension, and Marco’s expression shifted from playful to serious, the weight of your words sinking in.

“You really want that?” he asked, his tone suddenly more intense.

“Maybe I do,” you replied biting your lip, the adrenaline coursing through you making you feel invincible

His gaze bore into yours, a mixture of desire and something deeper reflected in those vibrant eyes.

“Then let’s make it a night to remember,” he declared, his voice steady with conviction.

He led you to a quiet corner, where the stars twinkled above and the sound of the ocean filled the air. The moonlight spilled over the deck, casting soft shadows that danced around you.

he closed the space between you, capturing your lips again in a kiss that was both hungry and tender. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you melted into him. It was a dance of passion, an exploration of the uncharted territory between you.

Just as you thought things couldn’t get any more heated, Marco broke the kiss and trailed his lips down your neck, sending waves of sensation rippling through you.

“You feel amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and intoxicating. The way he spoke, filled with desire, made your heart race even faster.

“Marco…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head back, granting him better access.

The sensations were overwhelming, and you found yourself surrendering to the pleasure he was invoking within you.

Suddenly, he paused, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I could get used to this,” he teased, his gaze lingering on your flushed cheeks

You began to explore, your hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, feeling the taut muscles as you pushed his shirt off. Marco watched you intently, a mixture of admiration and desire in his gaze as you confidently explored this new dynamic between you.

But he wasn’t about to let you have all the fun. With a swift motion, he turned the tables again, gripping your waist and lifting you effortlessly, placing you against the railing.

Your heart racing as you kissed him again.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel his hands tightening around your waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind you of the strength he possessed. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer as the world around you faded into insignificance.

In a single motion, he lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your skin to the cool night air, contrasting with the heat building between you. You gasped at the sensation, the thrill of vulnerability heightening your desire for him.

He took a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming over your body, drinking in the sight before him.

“You’re breathtaking,” he breathed, his voice thick with admiration.

You felt a rush of heat at his words, a mix of pride and excitement swelling within you.

“Show me how breathtaking I am,” you urged, your voice steady and filled with anticipation.

With that, Marco’s lips descended on you again, exploring every inch of your skin, every curve, every secret that made you who you were. His hands roamed, gripping your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel the heat building between you, a hunger that was all-consuming. Each kiss, each caress only fueled the fire until you thought you might explode with desire. The night air was thick with tension as you both surrendered to the moment, losing yourselves in the sensations that enveloped you

As you explored each other’s bodies, Marco’s touch was both gentle and commanding, igniting a fire within you that demanded to be fed

The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of salt from the sea and something uniquely him. The heat of your bodies intertwined, and every kiss ignited sparks of electricity that made your skin tingle.

His hands found their way back to your waist, fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants with a confidence that made your heart race. You gasped as he slipped them down, leaving you vulnerable yet exhilarated.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his gaze filled with lust.

You felt a thrill run through you at his words, a blend of shyness and confidence as you pulled him closer, pressing your body against his

With a grin, Marco wasted no time in lifting you off the ground, cradling you against him as he found a more comfortable place and position. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he maneuvered you with ease, pressing you against the soft, worn wood of the deck.

He took a moment to admire you again, his eyes roaming hungrily over your exposed skin, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow around you.

“You’re a temptation I never knew I needed,” he said, his voice low and filled with intensity.

The moments became a blur of heat and passion, the sounds of the ocean the only witness to your intimacy. With each caress and kiss, you felt the barrier between you dissolve, leaving nothing but the raw, unfiltered connection that sparked between you.

As the intensity grew, Marco’s kisses traveled down your neck, his warm breath sending shivers through your body. He paused to nibble at your collarbone before moving to your nipples, drawing a gasp from you, and you could feel the tension building within you, a throbbing need that only he could satiate.

“Marco,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “Please.”

His eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice teasing.

"I want you" you whined

With a low chuckle, he obliged, his lips finding yours again as he shifted your bodies, positioning you just right. The night air caressed your skin, contrasting the heat radiating from both of you, and every touch, every kiss felt electric.

As the intensity escalated, Marco’s movements became more urgent, and you could feel the tension between you building to a near-breaking point. He kissed you deeply, capturing your breath as his hands began to roam lower, teasing you with tantalizing touches that made your heart race.

With a swift movement, he slipped your panties aside, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze and touch. You gasped at the sensation, the thrill of vulnerability mixing with the hunger burning inside you.

Marco took his time, exploring every inch of you, his fingers skillfully teasing your clit, coaxing soft moans from your lips.

“Marco, please,” you begged, the urgency in your voice growing more pronounced as the waves of pleasure built within you.

He grinned, his eyes dark with desire.

“Patience,” he whispered, leaning down to place soft kisses along your thighs as one hand played with your nipples the other circling your clit driving you to the brink of madness.

You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your body craving more as he worked his magic, but just as you were about to tumble over the edge, he pulled away, leaving you gasping for breath.

“Marco!” you cried out, frustration lacing your voice.

“Just a little longer,” he teased, his smile infuriatingly charming. “I want you to remember this.”

With that, he captured your lips again, kissing you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours as he brought you back to the heights of ecstasy. As the kiss deepened, you felt him aligning himself against you, his body pressing closer, and you could feel the unmistakable heat of desire radiating from him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with promise. You nodded, your heart racing as you felt the world around you disappear once again.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips as he positioned himself against you.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he entered you, and you gasped at the sensation, the initial stretch igniting another wave of pleasure that crashed over you.

Your breath coming in shallow gasps as the heat within you grew.

Marco began to move, slowly at first, as if savoring every moment. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending in your body. You could feel the tension building again, the heat rising between you as your bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

The world outside faded completely, leaving only the sound of the ocean and your shared breaths. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the intimacy between you deepening with every moment as you let out a loud moan.

Marco responded with a low growl, his pace quickening as he pushed you closer to the edge. The tension built to an unbearable level, and you felt yourself on the brink of madness, a wave of ecstasy threatening to pull you under.

“Marco!” you cried out, your voice rising in pitch as pleasure coursed through you, overwhelming your senses.

With a final thrust, the world exploded around you, and you surrendered to the ecstasy that enveloped you, your body arching against his as you cried out his name, lost in the sensation and not caring if anyone could hear you.

Marco followed soon after, his release washing over him in waves as he pressed his body against yours, their connection deepening as the two of you rode the high together.

In the aftermath, as the waves of pleasure subsided, you found yourself wrapped in Marco’s arms, both of you breathless and entwined. The world felt both endless and timeless, a perfect moment suspended between you.

“Wow,” you breathed, still reeling from the intensity of what had just transpired.

Marco chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with warmth.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect that either.”

You smiled, a mix of satisfaction and mischief dancing in your gaze. “Neither did I. But it was worth it.”

[starvrse]

BOUND BY DEVOTION

pairing : won haneul x fem!reader

summary : yn is js an asshole fr idk

warnings : sub g!p haneul smut, toxicity, belle is used as the “homewrecker”, crying, mommy kink 😅, cursing, etc.

unnecessary bs : 7.7k words 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ happy holidays and tysm for 150 followers 😭🙏

“honestly, haneul, i don’t know why you’re still with yn,” julie said, reaching over to grab a fry from natty’s plate, only to get her hand slapped away.

“right, she’s the asshole of assholes!” the thai girl chimed in, shooting julie a warning glare as she pulled her plate closer.

haneul shifted uncomfortably in her seat, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. “she’s not… that bad,” she said quietly, her tone unsure but still protective.

julie rolled her eyes. “oh, come on, haneul. we’ve all seen how she treats you. she’s toxic, plain and simple.”

“maybe she’s made mistakes,” haneul countered, her voice firm, “but everyone’s quick to judge without knowing the full story. she’s not perfect, but who is?”

“not perfect? bobsky, she manipulates you!” natty shot back, her voice rising slightly. “you’re always the one apologizing, always the one fixing things when she screws up.”

“i know she has her flaws,” haneul murmured, her gaze dropping to her lap. “but… i see a side of her that you don’t. she can be really sweet and caring when it’s just the two of us.”

julie raised a skeptical brow, leaning back in her seat. “love shouldn’t feel like this, sky. but fine—if you want to keep defending her, that’s your choice. just don’t come crying to us when she hurts you again.”

the table fell into an awkward silence, natty and julie exchanging worried glances while haneul quietly twirled a fry between her fingers, holding on to her hope, no matter how fragile it seemed.

“so… when are you gonna see belle? she’s such a nice girl and obviously likes you!” natty said, her tone light as she tried to steer the conversation into safer territory.

“mhm, she mentioned you two have been texting a lot,” julie added, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she nudged haneuls foot lightly.

haneul blinked, her cheeks flushing faintly. “oh, um… belle’s nice, yeah,” she murmured, her voice soft. “but it’s not like that. we’re just… friends.”

natty raised an eyebrow, resting her chin on her hand. “friends who text each other every night?” she teased.

julie leaned in with an exaggerated gasp. “and friends who conveniently light up whenever they see each other?”

haneul fidgeted, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “it’s not what you think,” she insisted quietly, though the faint smile on her face betrayed her embarrassment.

natty and julie exchanged a knowing look, their playful grins widening as they returned to their food, satisfied with the blush they’d managed to coax out of their soft hearted friend.

-

the air was already a bit awkward when belle strolled up to their table, her tote bag slung over one shoulder and her phone in hand. she barely glanced at julie and natty before her eyes landed on haneul. “speak of the devil..” natty whispered to julie, a smirk playing on her face.

“hi, naneulie” belle greeted, her tone light and easy, like they were the only two people in the room.

haneul looked up, startled, and managed a soft, “oh hi, hyewon.”

belle smiled and wasted no time sliding into the seat next to the girl, her shoulder bumping lightly against hers. “i didn’t know you’d be here! cute surprise, huh?”

natty raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, while julie smirked, leaning back in her chair as if settling in for a show.

“we’re just grabbing some food,” natty said casually, glancing between belle and haneul. “you want something? you’ve already helped yourself to our company.”

belle didn’t even look at her, instead leaning closer to the younger and tapping her arm. “you didn’t text me back earlier,” she said with a playful pout. “i was waiting forever, you know.”

haneul blinked, fumbling for an answer. “oh, um, sorry—i got busy.”

“busy with what?” the blonde asked, resting her chin in her hand as she turned fully toward haneul. her knee brushed against haneul’s under the table, and haneul shifted slightly, looking flustered.

julie stifled a laugh behind her hand. “probably busy dealing with yn. you know, her girlfriend?”

belle paused for a split second, then let out a light laugh as if the comment hadn’t fazed her. “oh yeah, yn,” she said breezily, waving her hand. “but i’m sure she doesn’t mind me borrowing bobsky for a bit, right?”

natty leaned forward, grinning. “borrow her? belle, you’re acting like she’s your personal property or something.”

belle shrugged, her gaze still locked on haneul. “i mean, we’re just friends. it’s not a big deal, right?”

haneul’s cheeks burned as she looked down at her lap, unsure how to respond.

“you’re so bold,” julie teased, shaking her head. “aren’t you worried yn will like, find out and blow up?”

belle smirked, finally glancing at julie. “let her. what’s she gonna do, send me a mean text?”

“she’d probably send bobsky a mean text.” natty shot back, laughing.

belle ignored them, reaching out to lightly tug at the sleeve of haneul’s sweater. “you look really cute today.” she said, her voice soft enough that it felt just for haneul, even though everyone at the table could hear it.

haneul froze, her eyes darting to natty and julie, who were both watching with thinly veiled amusement. “uh, thanks,” she mumbled, scooting a fraction away, though belle didn’t seem to notice—or care.

natty leaned back, whispering to Julie, “yn’s gonna lose her mind when she hears about this.”

as the group continued chatting, haneul’s phone buzzed on the table. she glanced at the screen, the notification lighting up with your name.

yn 🩷: imysmm :(( can i call u later ?

haneul’s thumb hovered over the notification for a second. her stomach twisted as she read the message, the usual mix of guilt and exhaustion creeping in.

julie, ever nosy, leaned over to peek at the screen. “oh, is that yn?” she asked, dragging out the name with a knowing smirk.

haneul quickly turned the phone face down, her cheeks heating up. “it’s nothing,” she mumbled.

belle raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the exchange. “yn again?” she asked casually, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “she’s so clingy, isn’t she?”

natty snorted, nudging haneul’s arm. “bet she’s sending her usual ‘i miss you’ texts, huh?”

haneul gave a nervous laugh but didn’t respond. her phone buzzed again, but she didn’t bother to check this time. instead, she focused on the conversation, pretending she hadn’t seen the message.

meanwhile, back on your end, the “read” receipt stared back at you, unanswered.

-

a few hours later, you’re lounging in your room, scrolling through Instagram with a bored, disinterested look on your face. you’ve already seen that haneul hasn’t responded to your texts, but you’re not about to chase her. you don’t have to.

your finger lazily swipes through the feed until you come across julie’s story. a group photo. at first, you’re not all that interested, but then you see her—haneul—standing in the corner of the frame, a little too close to belle.

your eyes narrow as you study the details. haneul’s hand is resting casually on belle’s waist. It’s subtle, but it’s there. so that’s how it is.

a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips as you watch them. haneul, with that soft expression on her face, looking so innocent, her hand on belle’s waist like it’s no big deal. you don’t miss the way haneul leans in a little, and how belle seems to be melting into the touch, her lips close to your girlfriends neck as she smiles.

you pause for a moment, then smirk. this is the perfect time to remind haneul exactly who she’s dealing with. you take a quick photo of yourself—just enough to tease, nothing too obvious, but suggestive enough to get a point across. you’re dressed casually, quite a bit of skin showing, leaning into the shot just right. you want it to look effortless, like you couldn’t care less, but you know exactly what you’re doing.

you post it with a simple caption: “huzz hmu”

no explanation needed. it’s clear.

as you stare at the post, your mind drifts back to the photo from earlier, the one of haneul with belle. you replay it in your head—the closeness, the casual touch, like nothing was wrong. and that’s when you decide: this isn’t just about her. it’s about sending a message.

you click back into the group photo julie had posted earlier. your finger hovers over the screen, and with a swift motion, you screenshot it. you crop it just right, zooming in on haneul’s arm around belle’s waist, making sure it’s crystal clear.

then you open your messages, and without hesitation, you send the screenshot to haneul. the caption? just a string of question marks.

question marks. no explanation. she’ll get the message.

you watch as the message status changes to “read” waiting a couple minutes before your phone finally buzzes with a message from her.

you stare at the message from haneul, your finger hovering over the screen. It’s a simple question: “why would you post that??”

you already know that she knows the answer—it’s obvious. you just needed to make it clear. you tap the reply box, fingers itching to type something sharp, but you pause.

instead, you just lean back, letting the question hang in the air for a moment. haneul was always the one to play it safe, to avoid confrontation. you know she won’t come right out and say what she’s really thinking, but she’s still trying to act innocent.

you finally type out a response:

“just thought id remind u whats out there. since u clearly dont care about whats right in front of u.”

you send it before you can second-guess yourself, feeling that familiar mix of satisfaction and frustration swirl in your chest. you know she’s going to take a while to reply, probably scrambling to figure out what to say without starting a fight. she always does.

sure enough, the dots appear. you brace yourself, waiting for the inevitable passive reply.

finally, the message pops up:

neul 💕: “This isn’t about me and Hyewon. You know that, right?”

you let out a light laugh before biting your lip while typing. “really? because it looks like ur trying to make something else happen.”

you can almost hear her hesitating on the other side of the screen. It’s exactly what you wanted—make her question herself, make her feel a little uneasy for once.

the dots flash again.

neul 💕: “I’m not doing anything wrong. I don’t know why you’re acting like this.”

you bite your lip, resisting the urge to snap back immediately. Instead, you let a few seconds pass, then type:

“maybe u should start acting like u care. bc im not gonna wait around while u play games with other girls.”

you press send, leaning back against your pillow, feeling the rush of control that only comes when you have someone exactly where you want them.

you read haneul’s last message, and the corners of your mouth curl into a slight, bitter smile. she’s falling right into it—just like you knew she would. her hesitation, her soft words, it’s all so predictable.

you lean back, letting your phone rest on your lap as you take a deep breath. time to turn the tables. you quickly type out a message, making sure your words are sweet and innocent, laced with just enough guilt to make her feel like the bad guy.

“you know what? im just tired, haneul. i dont even know why i bother sometimes. i thought you cared, but it doesnt feel that way anymore.”

you hesitate, letting that statement sit in your mind for a second. you can practically see her scrambling to figure out how to respond. you know she’s soft, too soft for her own good, and it’s exactly what you need.

you add more, leaning into the act.

“i dont want to feel like im the only one putting in effort. it just hurts, honestly. i just want someone who actually chooses me.”

there it is. you’ve played the victim. you let the message hang there for a while, watching the screen, waiting for her to reply.

seconds feel like minutes.

finally, her message pops up. you can almost feel the weight of her guilt on the other side of the screen.

neul 💕: “I do care about you princess. I’m not trying to hurt you, I swear. I don’t want you to feel like that.”

it’s exactly what you wanted. you smile to yourself, biting back a laugh. she’s swallowing it whole. you’ve got her wrapped around your finger.

you let a long pause sit before replying, letting her stew in her guilt. then, you type, just a little softer this time, letting the “i’m hurt” act run its course.

“i dont know, neul… sometimes it feels like im not enough. i dont want to be a second choice.”

you hit send, knowing this will be the moment she cracks.

-

haneul looks at your last message, her heart sinking. she doesn’t know how to respond, her mind racing with all the things she wants to say but can’t seem to get out. you’re upset, and she wants to fix it, but every time she types something, she feels like it’s not enough.

she stares at the screen, chewing on her lip, retyping the same thing over and over. “You are enough. You’re my first choice, my main priority.” but it feels hollow. it doesn’t feel like it’ll fix anything.

frustrated, haneul slumps back on the couch, rubbing her temples. julie, sitting nearby and watching her struggle, rolls her eyes. “you’re acting like this is the end of the world. just text her back already.”

haneul sighs. “i don’t know what to say to her anymore. she’s making me feel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

julie glances at the phone, then at haneul. “give me that.” she snatches the phone out of haneul’s hand before she can protest.

“julie, no!” haneul starts to reach for it, but julie’s already typing.

“watch and learn,” julie mutters, her fingers flying over the screen with a confidence haneul has seen quite a bit as the groups break up message writer. she doesn’t hesitate, completely bypassing all the guilt and worry haneul has been wrapped up in. Instead, she taps out a slick, direct message:

neul 💕: Yk yn, if you keep acting like this, you’re gonna push me away. Stop acting all hurt and play the game right, or someone else will take your spot.

she looks up at haneul, grinning. “now that’s how you handle it.”

haneul’s jaw drops. “julie, what the hell?! why would you say that?”

julie shrugs nonchalantly. “because it’s true. she needs to stop thinking she’s got you wrapped around her finger. you’re better than that.”

haneul stares at her phone in disbelief. she’s not sure whether to laugh, cry, or scream. the message feels so harsh, but there’s a part of her that knows julie’s right. if she keeps playing the role of the sweet, apologetic one, nothing’s ever going to change.

-

you read “haneul’s” message again, feeling a sharp pang of surprise mixed with frustration.

your fingers hover over the screen as a strange feeling settles in your chest. this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. she’s not playing the game like she used to. she’s not apologizing, not begging. you hate that it feels like she’s finally standing up for herself, and you hate that you’re even considering backing down.

but you won’t. you won’t back down.

you start typing, every word laced with the control you know you still have. “so now im the one in the wrong? you seriously think you can just do whatever you want, haneul? ive been here, trying to make things work, and this is how you treat me?”

you press send quickly, but it doesn’t feel like enough. you need her to see exactly how this is going to play out.

without missing a beat, you type again. “you dont get to just walk away from this. youve never cared about me the way ive cared about you. ive given everything, and this is what i get?

a small, malicious grin curls at your lips as you reread the message. it’s a challenge, and you know exactly how she’ll respond.

but you’re not done. you need her to really feel the weight of what you’re saying, to know that the ball is in her court now.

so, as a final act, you block her number. a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. you know exactly what’s going to happen next. she’ll realize she can’t reach you, and then she’ll be the one scrambling to fix things. it’s the perfect move—she won’t be able to ignore the situation for long. you’ve got her right where you want her.

you throw your phone down on the bed and sit back, waiting for her to come to you in the way you know she always does—when she’s desperate enough.

-

back on haneul’s side, the weight of reality crashes down on her. her heart sinks as she tries to reply to you, only to see her messages turn green.

“wait, she blocked me?” haneul’s voice cracks slightly, disbelief washing over her. “why would she do that?”

julie and natty, who’ve been watching intently, both exchange tired glances. it’s becoming painfully familiar.

julie shrugs, not even trying to hide her frustration. “what did you expect, sky? you’ve been walking on eggshells for so long, and she’s always been like this. she gets what she wants, or you’re out.”

natty rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “honestly, this is exhausting. you’re letting her manipulate you again.”

haneul’s eyes dart to the phone, panic starting to creep in. “i need to call her. please, can i use your phone?” she’s almost pleading now, the desperation in her voice unmistakable.

julie hesitates before pushing her phone toward haneul with a sigh. “you really think calling her is going to fix anything? you know what she’s doing, right?”

haneul doesn’t respond, her fingers already tapping over the screen, trying to call you through julie’s phone. she knows it’s probably a bad idea. she knows you’re playing her, but she doesn’t know how to stop. her hands shake as she waits for the call to go through.

as the phone rings, julie and natty exchange a look, both of them silently acknowledging that this is just more of the same. haneul’s too wrapped up in this toxic back and forth to see it.

-

meanwhile, you sit back on your bed, the faint buzz of your phone breaking the silence. the screen lights up with an unknown number, and a smug smirk pulls at the corners of your lips. you already know who it is. haneul.

you take your time before picking up, letting the call ring for a few moments longer than necessary. finally, you swipe to answer.

“hello?” your voice is casual, almost bored, like you’re not even remotely fazed by the call.

there’s a pause on the other end, and you can practically feel haneul’s hesitation. then, her voice breaks through, soft and pleading, “yn… please, i just—”

you cut her off, letting the silence drag for a second before speaking. “what do you want, haneul?” your tone is icy, detached. it’s the calm before the storm, and you know she’s feeling it.

“i… i didn’t mean to hurt you,” haneul starts, her words rushing out, desperate. “i don’t know what’s going on, but blocking me like that… please, just let me explain.”

you can hear the urgency in her voice, and it only makes you feel more in control. you lean back into your bed, not even bothering to sit up, enjoying the power shift. “explain what? that you’re sorry? you always say that. but nothing ever changes, does it?”

haneul’s voice cracks. “i swear i’m trying, yn. i don’t want this to be over.”

you let out a small, fake laugh. “really? because it sure seems like you’re already moving on, huh? hanging out with belle and getting too comfortable with her. it doesn’t exactly scream ‘trying.’”

there’s a long, shaky silence on the other end. you can almost see her scrambling, her mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix it.

“you’re right,” haneul finally whispers, defeated. “i made a mistake.”

you smirk again, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. “a little too late for that, don’t you think?”

the words feel almost too easy to say, but the rush of satisfaction is undeniable. you know she’s not going to give up this easily. she’ll be back. she always comes back.

you sit up a little, the smirk still playing on your lips, as you listen to haneul’s voice crack with guilt and desperation. you know she’s hanging on your every word, trying to figure out how to fix everything. and that’s exactly why you’re going to drag it out.

with a cold, calculated tone, you say, “you know, haneul, if you really want to fix this, if you really want to show me how sorry you are, then maybe we should talk about it in person.”

you pause for a moment, letting the words sink in, before you continue, dragging out the tension. “i think it’s time you come over and prove it. you’ll come to my place, and we’ll talk—really talk. and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to convince me that this time is different.”

you let the silence hang between you, savoring the way she must be hanging on your every word. you know what’s coming next. you’ve already won.

there’s a long, tense silence on the other end of the phone. you can practically feel the weight of haneul’s hesitation, and you know she’s torn. she knows this is a game, but she’s so deep in it now that she can’t back out.

finally, haneul’s voice breaks through, quiet and shaky. “i… i’ll come. just tell me when.”

a victorious smirk spreads across your face. you knew she couldn’t resist.

you lean back against your pillows, rolling your eyes as if the power is effortless, the game won before it even began. “how about now?” your voice is soft, but there’s a cruel edge beneath it. “come over, neul. we’ll have a real conversation about everything. but make sure you’re ready.”

you hear her swallow, and the uncertainty in her voice is like music to your ears. “okay… i’ll be there soon.”

you end the call without a second thought, feeling the rush of control flood over you. you know exactly what you’re doing, and you can already predict how this will play out. haneul will come. she’ll beg. she’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.

and you’ll be there, sitting back, enjoying the show.

-

haneul hands julie the phone, her mind racing as she processes what just happened. a knot forms in her stomach, the weight of her decision settling in. what is she even walking into? what’s going to happen when she gets there?

“hey, i’m going to her house.” haneul announces to julie and natty, her voice strained and uncertain.

julie’s eyebrows shoot up, her face an unreadable mix of disappointment and frustration. she exhales sharply, shaking her head. “seriously, sky? you’re actually going over there? after everything that’s happened?”

natty just looks at her, her gaze tired but resigned. “i don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself. she’s just going to mess with your head more.”

haneul bites her lip, looking down at her phone as if it’s the only thing grounding her. “i know, but i have to try. i don’t want to give up on this yet.”

julie leans back in her chair, rubbing her temples. “you’re not going to fix anything by letting her control you like this. she’s playing you, haneul.”

“i’ll be fine,” haneul says, her voice shaky but determined. “i just… i need to do this.”

there’s another pause before haneul adds, almost offhandedly, “tell hyewon i said bye when she comes back from the bathroom.”

julie and natty share a glance, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. it’s obvious to them both: haneul is falling deeper into the mess, and she’s not even aware of it. julie opens her mouth to say something, but haneul’s already standing up, walking toward the door with a determined look on her face.

as haneul leaves, julie lets out a soft sigh. “this is gonna end badly.”

natty doesn’t answer. she just watches as haneul walks out the door, knowing there’s no convincing her now.

-

the sound of a knock on your door pulls you from whatever you were doing. you already know who it is before you even get up to answer.

you open the door slowly, and there she is—haneul. standing there in front of you, looking like a kicked puppy. her hair is slightly messy, her forehead slick with sweat despite the cold air outside. it’s almost pathetic how she stands there, her shoulders slumped, looking like she’s already defeated before she even steps foot inside.

you can’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction seeing her like this.

“well,” you say, leaning against the doorframe, taking in the sight of her. “didn’t take you long, huh?”

haneul doesn’t meet your gaze immediately. Instead, she wipes her forehead nervously, eyes darting around the doorway as if looking for some kind of escape. she opens her mouth to say something but hesitates, her words caught in her throat.

“babe…” her voice is soft, hesitant, the usual confident girl nowhere to be found. “i—i’m sorry. i just… i don’t want to lose you.”

you don’t move, just stare at her for a moment longer, letting her squirm. she’s so easy to read, so easy to manipulate. it feels almost too easy.

“you’re sorry? after everything you’ve done?” you raise an eyebrow, stepping back slightly to let her in but making no move to be kind or inviting. “come in.”

haneul takes a step forward, looking like she’s walking into a lion’s den. you close the door behind her with a soft click.

now it’s time to see how much she’ll beg.

haneul stands awkwardly in the middle of your living room, her arms crossed over her chest like she’s trying to hold herself together. her eyes flit around the room, avoiding yours, and the silence between you is thick, suffocating.

you lean casually against the armrest of your couch, arms folded, watching her. she looks so small, so unsure of herself. exactly how you wanted her.

“well?” you say after a moment, your voice cutting through the quiet like a knife. “i’m waiting.”

haneul flinches slightly at your tone, but she forces herself to speak. “i—i didn’t mean for things to get this bad. i just—” she swallows hard, her voice shaky. “i don’t know what to do anymore, yn. you’re upset, and i… i don’t know how to fix it.”

you let out a soft, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “you don’t know how to fix it? really? maybe don’t put your hands all over belle next time. that’s a good place to start.”

her eyes widen slightly, and she stammers, “it wasn’t like that, i swear! she leaned into me, and i didn’t want to make it awkward. i—i wasn’t thinking.”

“of course, you weren’t thinking,” you snap, standing up straighter now, your voice dripping with venom. “you never think about how i feel, do you? i’m always the one who’s supposed to understand, to forgive, to be okay with you running around with your little friends while i’m sitting here, waiting for you.”

haneul’s lip trembles slightly, and she looks like she’s trying not to cry. “that’s not fair, yn. you know i care about you,” she says softly, her words stumbling over themselves. “a-and… sometimes you’re the one who goes out with other people… gets close with them…”

you scoff, taking a step closer to her, watching as she shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. “don’t put this on me, haneul. i’m not the one who messed up. you are. and now you’re here, looking like a kicked dog, hoping i’ll just forgive you because you said you’re sorry. is that it?”

“i’m not trying to turn anything on you,” she says quickly, her voice cracking under the weight of her words. “i just—i feel like you don’t see how much i care. you do things too, yn, and sometimes it hurts, but i don’t—” she cuts herself off, pressing her lips together as her eyes drop to the floor.

you let out a cold laugh, crossing your arms as you take a step closer. “oh, so now i’m the problem? you’re really sitting here, trying to act like you’re the victim, when you’re the one out there with belle? touching her like it’s no big deal?”

haneul shakes her head frantically, her voice rising in desperation. “it’s not like that! i told you, i wasn’t thinking—”

“exactly,” you cut her off, your tone icy. “you weren’t thinking. not about me, not about us. but now you want me to believe you care? after all of this?”

her shoulders slump, and she looks so small, so defeated, that for a moment, you almost feel a twinge of sympathy. but then you remember the photo, the way her hand lingered on belle’s waist, and the bitterness takes over again.

“yn, please,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “i just want to fix this.”

you tilt your head, pretending to consider her words. “fix it, huh? and what exactly are you going to do to fix it, haneul? because right now, i’m not seeing much effort.”

her breath hitches, and she finally looks up at you, her eyes glistening. “i don’t want to lose you, yn. please, just tell me what i can do. i’ll do anything.”

you pause, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. the power shift is intoxicating, and you savor it, tilting your head slightly as you watch her unravel in front of you.

“anything?” you repeat again, this time softer, more venom laced beneath the word.

she nods again, her voice catching as she whispers, “anything.”

without warning, you place your hands on her shoulders and shove her backward onto the couch. she falls easily, her wide eyes locked on yours, and for a split second, you see the surprise flicker across her face.

you swing your leg over her lap, straddling her, your hands pressing firmly on her shoulders to keep her in place. haneul could stop you if she wanted to—you know it, and she knows it. she’s stronger than you, far stronger. her frame alone radiates quiet strength, the kind that could have you off her in an instant. but she doesn’t use it. she doesn’t even try.

her hands hover awkwardly by her sides, unsure whether to touch you or keep them away. her lips part, but no words come out, her expression a mixture of confusion and guilt.

“you’re pathetic, you know that?” you murmur, leaning closer until your faces are just inches apart. her breath hitches, and you can feel the tension in her body as she freezes under you. “all that strength, all that power, and you’re just letting me do this.”

“i—i don’t want to hurt you,” she stammers, her voice small, trembling.

“hurt me?” you echo, letting out a humorless laugh. “haneul, the only person hurting me right now is you. you don’t think seeing your hand on belle’s waist was a slap in the face? or that stupid soft smile you gave her?”

“it wasn’t like that,” she says quickly, her voice rising in desperation. “i told you—it didn’t mean anything! i wasn’t thinking!”

you tilt your head, pretending to consider her words as you trail your fingers down her shoulders, feeling the way she tenses under your touch. “not thinking,” you repeat softly. “you seem to do that a lot when it comes to me.”

“please, yn,” she whispers, her eyes glassy as they search yours. “tell me what to do. tell me how to fix it. i’ll do anything. just—just don’t leave me.”

you smirk, leaning back slightly but not moving off her. “that’s the thing, neul. i don’t think you even realize what you’ve done. but don’t worry—” you pause, letting the tension linger in the air. “i’ll make sure you never forget again.”

she swallows hard, her breath hitching as tears begin to spill down her cheeks. her trembling hands finally find their way to your waist, resting there lightly, as if grounding herself in the moment. her voice is barely audible as she chokes out, “i just want to make this right.”

you lean in closer, your voice a whisper against her ear. “good. because i’m not done with you yet.”

you don’t waste any time, leaning down again, this time with no hesitation, your lips crashing into hers with a force that leaves no room for second guessing. it’s hungry, possessive, your hands tangling into her hair as you press her back against the couch.

haneul lets out a soft gasp against your mouth, her hands tightening on your waist instinctively. she kisses you back just as desperately, her lips moving with yours, matching your intensity. tears are still streaming down her face, the saltiness lingering on her lips and slipping into the kiss. it only adds to the rawness of the moment, her vulnerability making her response even more desperate.

you can feel the way her body trembles slightly beneath you, not from fear, but from the weight of everything between you.

you deepen the kiss, biting down lightly on her lower lip, drawing a quiet whimper from her. it sends a rush of satisfaction through you, knowing you have her exactly where you want her. she could stop this if she wanted to—she’s strong enough to lift you off her like it’s nothing—but she doesn’t. instead, she lets you take what you want, surrendering completely.

her hands finally move, sliding up your back and pulling you closer, her strength barely restrained as she clings to you. the kiss grows hotter, more frantic, like neither of you can get enough.

when you finally pull back, both of you are breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together. her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, and her wide eyes are locked on yours like she’s completely lost in you.

her hands still gripping you tightly, her gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. her voice is shaky, tears still threatening to spill over as she whispers, “yn…” it’s quiet, fragile, like she’s pleading for something she can’t put into words.

you lean in again, your lips crashing into hers once more, harder this time, determined to make sure she doesn’t forget who she belongs to.

you can taste the salt of her tears mixed with the sweetness of her lips, a heady combination that drives you wild. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in this intense, desperate moment.

you feel her cock harden under you, drawing an exaggerated gasp from your mouth. “seems like someone's pleased with this turn of events," you murmur, your voice a low, husky timbre tinged with amusement. you grind on her boner, eliciting a strangled moan from beneath you. her hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction.

her nails dig into your waist, a silent plea for you not to stop. “yn..” she hisses through clenched teeth, her body tensing as she squeezes your waist harder. you just smirk wider and grind down harder.

haneul whimpers beneath you, her struggles growing weaker as you lean in closer, your presence overwhelming, claiming the space between you. her breaths come shallow and uneven, the fight in her fading as you assert your dominance, a quiet, undeniable force that leaves no room for resistance. “please...” she begs, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and submission. “please don't stop...” her legs fall open wider, inviting you to grind against her wood.

you lean down, your face inches from hers, and sneer at her pathetic pleas. “look at you, begging like a little bitch,” you spit in her face. “you're so fucking pathetic."

tears stream down her cheeks as she nods frantically, completely broken down by your harsh words. her voice comes out as a desperate whisper, “please mommy... j-just touch me. make me yours.” her hips buck upward shamelessly, seeking any kind of release from the intense denial.

you get down on your knees between haneul’s thighs, your face level with her lap. you hook your fingers into her waistband and slowly pull down her joggers and boxers, revealing her throbbing length.

“look at this fucking dick, neul,” you sneer, wrapping your hand around the base of her shaft and giving it a few rough strokes. “so hard and ready, just for me, right?”

haneul’s hands fly to her hair, gripping it tightly as she looks down at your face buried between her legs. “fuck, y-yes…just for you mommy.” she whimpers, as you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head, sucking hard and making her whimper in desperation.

you begin to bob your head, taking her dick in and out of your mouth in quick, sloppy motions. you use your hand to jack her off in tandem, twisting and pumping your wrist as you hollow your cheeks and suck her hard.

you feel the older girl’s thick length pulse in your mouth as you work her over, her salty precum coating your tongue. you can hear her desperate whimpers and moans above you, her hands tugging at your hair as she fucks your face with shallow thrusts of her hips.

just as you feel her tensing up, ready to erupt, you suddenly pull back, letting her slick cock spring free with an obscene “pop”. grinning wickedly, you release your grip on her base, denying her that final push she so desperately craves. "not yet, neul,"

you chuckle darkly, blowing a stream of cool air across her overheated flesh. her dick jumps and leaks in response, the tip glistening with a mixture of your saliva and her own excitement. “i'm not done playing with you yet."

you admire your handiwork - haneul’s face is flushed red, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gasps for air, completely at your mercy. her cock is rock hard and throbbing, aching for release but denied by your tormenting games. "p-please...” she begs for a release.

you wrap your fingers around her straining shaft, stroking her with agonizing slowness at first. each deliberate pump of your hand sends shockwaves through her body, making her shudder and moan.

“cum for me. show me how much you love having my hand on your cock." you speed up your movements, twisting your wrist on each upward stroke.

you start to jerk her off faster, your hand moving up and down her length with increasing pressure. "you're so close, sweetheart. i can feel your dick throbbing in my hand." you lean in and whisper in her ear, "cum for mommy, neul."

her body tenses, and she lets out a choked off whimper as she finds her release, hot and sticky, spurting into your hand. but you don't stop. you keep jerking her off through her entire release, her overstimulated flesh turning sensitive and painful.

as you relentlessly stroke her, the korean girl starts moaning loudly, the sound muffled by you kissing her sloppily, swallowing her noises. her hips buck involuntarily, trying desperately to escape the overwhelming sensation yet desperately seeking more. tears leak from the corners of her eyes as she moans, "mmh…oh shit..."

her cock pulses weakly, overstimulated and sensitive, but you continue the torturous pleasure. "you can't help but love it, can you?" you whisper teasingly. "your pretty little cock is so sensitive and needy..."

you abruptly cease your relentless stroking, leaving haneul’s cock twitching and desperate. she whimpers in confusion and withdrawal, her hips still shuddering. you start to slowly remove your own clothing, teasing her with glimpses of your bare skin.

once you're naked, you crawl back onto the couch and straddle her hips. her eyes widen as she takes in your bare body, her gaze lingering on your curves. without a word, you reach down and guide her still hard (though sensitive) cock to your entrance.

as you slowly sink down onto her sensitive cock, haneul lets out a high pitched whine at the tightness and pressure. her overstimulated flesh struggles to accommodate your warmth, making her whine and squirm beneath you. "y-yn, it's too much!”

despite her protests, haneul’s cock remains rock hard inside you, betraying her body's true desires. you start to grind your hips, drawing more whimpers and gasps from her lips as you stimulate her sensitive tip with each movement. "ah! oh fuck, y-you feel amazing..."

the sensitivity proves too much for haneul, and as you continue to ride her, she can feel her release building too quickly. she tries to warn you, "wait, it's too soon, i’m gonna-" but you ignore her pleas, continuing to move on her.

with a loud, desperate cry, haneul’s body tenses and then convulses as she cums hard and fast inside you. her hot seed spills out, filling you up as she thrashes and jerks beneath you, completely overwhelmed by the intensity of her orgasm. “mmh— f-fuck!”

despite her pleas of "p-please, it's t-too much...", you continue to ride the older girl, her still spurting cock milking out every last drop of cum. you soothe her with gentle reassurances, "it's okay, baby... just a little more for mommy..."

her oversensitive cock twitches uncomfortably but remains impossibly hard as you continue your slow grind. tears reform in haneul’s eyes from the mixture of pleasure and intense sensory overload. "m-mommy... it's too sensitive... please... i-i can't..." "you can take it for mommy, my love..."

with a broken cry, haneul’s body starts to shake as she feels another wave of intense pleasure rushing through her. she buries her face in your neck, sobbing and moaning uncontrollably as she starts to shoot blanks, her cock pulsing with each empty spurt. "mommy..."

you hold the girl close, cradling her as she sobs and cries into your neck, her body still twitching and spasming with the aftershocks of her overstimulated orgasm. her blank shots paint your insides, a futile attempt to empty her sensitive cock of its overwhelming load.

as haneul continues to cry and shake, you feel your own orgasm building, the relentless pounding of her sensitive cock against your g-spot finally becoming too much to bear. with a loud, piercing scream, you climax, your inner muscles clamping down on haneul's cock as you ride out your intense orgasm.

her fingers dig into your waist, keeping you pressed firmly against her as your climax triggers another series of blank shots from her exhausted cock. you grip her hair tightly, using it for leverage as you ride out your waves of pleasure. her sobbing moans against your neck only heighten your ecstasy.

“i can't... i can't stop..." she whimpers, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation of being used while so sensitive. her nails dig deeper into your waist, surely to leave bruises, as another empty spurt escapes her.

as both of you slowly come down from your intense orgasms, you gently stroke haneul’s hair, soothing her as she continues to sob softly against your neck. you hold her close, rocking her gently as you try to calm her down. her blank shots slowly taper off as her oversensitive cock finally starts to recover.

haneul finally looks up at you, her tear-soaked eyes wide and full of guilt. “i’m… i’m so sorry, yn… i didn’t mean to disappoint you…” she sniffles, her voice breaking as she searches your face for forgiveness. you tilt her chin up gently, forcing her to meet your gaze, your thumb tracing slowly along her cheek, wiping away the tears that fall like a confession.

“shh, baby,” you whisper, your tone soft, almost affectionate. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean to… but you hurt me, neul.” you pause, letting the weight of your words settle, watching the guilt twist her features. “and that’s not what someone who loves me would do, is it?”

she shakes her head desperately, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “no, no, yn… i swear, i love you. i do. please, believe me…”

you offer her a faint smile, brushing her hair back from her face like she’s something fragile. “then prove it,” you say, your voice gentle, yet laced with an undeniable finality. “block belle’s number. delete her. she’s only coming between us, neul. and we don’t need anyone else, do we? just you and me, baby.”

her breath hitches, and she clings to you tighter, as if holding on will erase the tension that lingers between you. “i promise,” she chokes out, her voice trembling. “i’ll do it right now. i’ll block her. i don’t want anyone else. just you…”

you hum softly, your fingers combing through her hair in a way that’s both soothing and possessive. “good girl,” you murmur, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head. “i knew you’d make the right choice. you always do… because you love me, don’t you?”

“i do,” she whispers, her voice a desperate plea. “i love you more than anything…”

you smile, satisfaction blooming in your chest as you pull her impossibly closer, her dependence on you sinking deeper with every word, every touch, every breath.

her ahh angry over a pose 🙄 get a load of this guy

anyways hope u guys enjoyed lolz asshole yn for the win ??

[humanityissstrange]

Humans Are Weird: Christmas Trees

Zork’ak did not mind being alone. 

Though soon, he realized he wasn’t. Holding still, he swore he heard voices, and softly, he trailed after them. After a few more turns, he could understand the words. 

“-telling you that I know how to drive the damn thing.”

“I heard you almost wrecked it.”

A few steps closer and everything became clearer. 

“I did not!” That was Steve, Zork’ak was certain. 

“That’s not what Kai said. She said you almost flipped the damn thing,” Lyle answered. 

“Maybe I should drive.” Xander was quieter than the other two. “I’m not sure you are the best option.” 

Keeping his weight balanced and light, Zork’ak followed them without them seeing. He knew humans well enough now to know that this was the best way to get answers. 

“It’s a short drive and neither of you have done it.” Steve’s voice was low. He was angry, Zork’ak could tell. 

“Maybe not.” Lyle did not sound convinced. “But I have been on plenty of excursions. More than you if I remember correctly.” 

When the three started to descend, Zork’ak could no longer keep his presence hidden. The narrow downward ramp would expose him, and if he waited too long, he might not be able to follow where they went. 

“None of you will be driving,” he said, grinning when the three guys jumped. 

“Zor!” Steve spun around, hand to his chest as he kept his voice low but nearly reprimanding. “You scared us.”

“No shit,” Lyle muttered. “I’m sure that was the intention.” 

Zork’ak only nodded, not interrupting them. One thing he had learned - but had not reported - was that humans often gave all the answers he needed if he was silent long enough. 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Steve demanded. 

This made Zork’ak laugh. “I should ask you that.”

“Steve, shut up.” Xander shoved him. “We were just walking around for a bit,” he said to Zork’ak. 

The Klyl shook his head. “You don’t need to drive to walk around.” 

“Shit,” Steve muttered, and this time, Lyle shoved him. 

At one point, Zork’ak didn’t know how to handle the humans’ behavior, much less understand it. Now he found them…amusing. An emotion he had finally come to learn. It seemed the humans had made him feel it more than anything else. 

“Where are you driving to?” 

He didn’t expect an honest answer to his question. A human answer would have been something similar to their previous excuse - lacking logic. But to his surprise, Lyle actually answered. 

“We want a Christmas tree.” Xander slammed his hand into the back of Lyle’s head. “What the fuck, chucha?” 

Steve chuckled, and even Zork’ak smiled. It was rare that the humans slipped back into their native language, but occasionally, it happened. Lyle and Xander were both staring angrily at each other. 

“Why would you tell him that?” 

Lyle rubbed the back of his head. “He’s going to figure it the fuck out. So let’s stop wasting time.” His eyes shifted to the Klyl. “Are you going to help us or not?” 

“Help you?” This straightforward method was unusual to him. Every time Zork’ak thought he had come to understand the humans, he was wrong. 

“Yeah?” Steve stared at Lyle. “Help us?” 

“I’m willing to bet that you need some kind of ID or biometric scan to turn on the crafts.” He gestured to Zork’ak, who nodded. “So if you want a damn tree, we need his help.”

“What is a Christmas tree?” 

He was used to Adam’s explanations, but it was much simpler when Xander pulled out his tablet and showed him a catalogued species from Earth. A fir tree, it was marked. A large growth taller than him. 

“It’s a…” What was the word Adam had used before? “A plant.” 

“Yes. A giant one.” Steve leaned forward, typing something out on the tablet until a catalog of Christmas information that Zork’ak had reviewed opened. On it was the same fir tree, but with lights and small, round objects on it. “We decorate them and put them inside. We’ll put all our presents under it.”

“It’s important to your Christmas party?” 

“Very.” 

Zork’ak nodded. “Then let’s find a Christmas tree.”

He led the three out, as they argued among themselves over the fact that Lyle was not a ‘dumbass’ and they should be ‘grateful that he fucking asked.’ He said nothing as he selected a carrier, using his biometric scanner to log his activity. As a Superior Officer, all codes were overridden and the carrier unlocked, the storage door opening to let them out into the night air. 

Steve took the seat next to him. “I’m driving!”

“Oh, fuck,” Lyle muttered. 

Xander shoved him. “Where’s your sense of adventure? Isn’t that why we are here?”

“No! I’m here as a damn scientist.” 

Before Zork’ak could even respond, Steve had switched the cart to manual. Knycuz must have shown him how to do that. Then his palm was on the sphere, shoving it roughly in the direction they needed to go, the cart jolting under his touch. 

“Hold on!” 

Then, they raced into the dark with the wrong person navigating.

 *

This is an excerpt from a full Christmas novella now available on Amazon! To get the book in all its chaotic holiday, get Humans Are Merry by Brooke Hart! Available for FREE with Kindle Unlimited! 

[stellariders]

SHE MISSES SEEING HER DAD ON SHIFT EVERYDAY 😭

y’all know how we always say stella always looks so at peace when she’s hugging kelly? i just want to say she does the same with boden. like kelly and boden are the most important men in stella’s life and her biggest fans.

[misswynters]

The Noble Daughter

Viktor x fem! reader / wc. 1.5k

synopsis: You are the daughter of a influential noble house. And Viktor is your little secret.

warnings: 18+, smut ofc, getting caught, him whimpering, soft sex 🫶🏼, reader getting eaten out, switch lean sub! vik, fingering

there might be some mistakes… -.-

[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned <3

Every shadow and flicker seemed to embrace the secrecy of your meeting, cocooning you in a world that was just yours and his. Viktor turned at the touch of your hand on his shoulder, his amber eyes widening in surprise before they softened, filled with a mixture of longing and tenderness that made your heart ache.

"You shouldn't be here," he murmured, his voice low and gentle, laced with both worry and desire. But his hand found its way to your waist, as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go.

"I had to see you," you whispered back, lifting a hand to his cheek, fingers grazing the roughness of his stubble. He leaned into your touch, and before either of you could say another word, his lips met yours.

The kiss started soft, hesitant, but soon grew with a fierce urgency. Viktor's hands moved to your waist, pulling you close, as if he needed to make up for every second you'd been apart. He broke the kiss only to breathe, his lips brushing over your cheek, your jaw, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched. You leaned back against his worktable, the cool metal pressing into your back.

With a glance up at you, Viktor lifted the edge of your blue dress, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your thigh. The contact of his hands sent a shiver up your spine. His gaze flickered up, silently asking permission, and at your nod, he continued, his hands guiding you, exploring every curve with a careful reverence.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours, filled with both longing and concern. "I don't want you to feel..."

"Viktor," you murmured, sliding a hand along his jaw, tilting his face so he could see the determination in your eyes. "I’m in desperate need of your touch."

He bit his lip and with a shaky breath, Viktor nodded. His eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your waist. He entered you slowly as he filled you inch by inch. This is what you were yearning for. His eyes were shut close trying to suppress his sounds, however here and there a whimper would slip through.

Each thrust was met with the wet, quiet sounds of your bodies slapping against each other, amplifying every sensation in the silence of the lab. All you could hear was the wet squelching sounds you’re pussy made as he continued to fill you.

As he moved, Viktor's hands slid under your thigh, lifting one leg to rest against his hip. The new angle sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you bit down on your lip to keep from crying out, your nails pressing into his shoulders.

Viktor's breath grew heavier, his forehead pressing against yours as he tried to hold back his own sounds. His gaze dropped down between you, watching where you were joined, the sight sending a shiver through him that made him let out a quiet whimper, his grip tightening on your thigh.

He began a slow, steady rhythm, each movement creating soft, wet squelching sound that continued to grow rapidly. The intimacy of it, the restraint you both held, only made the tension coil tighter. Viktor's gaze was intense, filled with both wonder and awe as he watched the way your bodies moved together. "I never thought..." he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "You're... everything I dreamed of."

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a breathless kiss, muffling both your gasps as he quickened his pace. The sounds between you grew louder, the wet, rhythmic noises blending with the quiet hum of the lab, filling the space with a symphony meant only for the two of you. Every motion, every shift, was precise, Viktor's movements guided by both his passion and his care for you.

The tension built, coiling tight as Viktor's restraint began to slip. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and his eyes met yours with a look so full of longing, of devotion, that it nearly undid you. You clung to him, burying your face against his shoulder to stifle the moans that threatened to escape, your body moving in time with his, caught up in the quiet, forbidden passion.

With a quiet, trembling sigh, Viktor buried himself fully, his own quiet whimpers echoing softly in your ear as he felt you shudder around him. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining, grounding you as the last waves of pleasure washed over you both.

In the stillness that followed, Viktor pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, his hands still resting at your waist, as though he couldn't bear to let go. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice full of awe and tenderness. "For loving me... for being here."

Moments have passed since you have reached your first organism and you were still on the table. As the quiet settled over the lab, Viktor held you close for a few lingering breaths, his forehead pressed gently against yours. But soon, the intensity in his gaze softened, replaced by a tenderness that left you breathless.

With a quiet reverence, he carefully knelt before you, his hands resting on your thighs. He was weary to not hurt himself which would cause him more pain on his limp leg. Viktor’s golden eyes met yours as he slowly lowered himself, his expression filled with something almost worshipful. He pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, then to your thigh, each touch lingering as though he was committing every inch of you to memory. His lips moved higher, grazing over your skin with soft, open-mouthed kisses that left a warm, tingling trail in their wake.

Your breath hitched as his mouth moved closer towards your pussy, the intensity of the moment making your heart pound.

Viktor's metal fingers traced along your thigh, the coolness of his touch a delicious contrast to the heat he was leaving with his lips. His long, slender fingers followed the curve of your leg, slipping inside your walls with a grace that was gentle. You felt his thumb press softly against your skin, steadying you, while his other hand reached up to rest at your waist, grounding you in the moment.

The coldness of his metal hand sent a shiver through you, heightening every sensation, and he seemed to notice, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a hint of mischief in his gaze. "Still alright?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern, but his tone held a knowing warmth.

You managed a nod, your hand reaching down to thread through his hair, tugging him slightly closer. His lips quirked into a soft smirk before he returned his focus to you, pressing another kiss to your folds. His mouth moved with a slow, deliberate patience. His kisses growing bolder and deeper, as his tongue darted inside you.

Viktor's metal fingers traced light patterns along your skin, each touch careful, his control a testament to his dedication. As he moved higher, his thumb pressed gently along the inside of your thigh, guiding you open for him with a mixture of care and desire. The coolness of his touch, combined with the warmth of his lips, sent tremors through you that you could barely contain.

His mouth hovered near your folds, his breath warm against you, but he paused, looking up with a gaze full of tenderness. "You're... beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur, as though he was confessing a secret.

Before you could respond, his lips finally met your pussy, a quiet, reverent kiss that left you dizzy. His metal fingers continued their journey, a gentle, precise touch that sent waves of sensation through you, heightening every nerve. He took his time, savoring each reaction, each shiver, his mouth and hands working in tandem as he explored, worshipping every part of you with a devotion that left you breathless.

As his cool fingers reached deeper, finding your sensitive spots. His mouth followed, leaving soft, lingering kisses that melted any remaining restraint. The contrast of his cold touch and the warmth of his mouth created a rhythm that had you gripping the edge of the table, biting down on your lip to keep from crying out.

Viktor's pace quickened, his cool fingers moving with a newfound intensity. Each motion was calculated yet filled with passion, his gaze flickering between his hand and your face, drinking in every reaction, every quiet sound you made. His metal fingers, precise and deft, moved inside you at a pace that left you breathless, teetering on the edge as he guided you closer with each stroke.

He murmured soft, breathy reassurances between the kisses that he laid on your thighs. His voice filled with warmth."You're perfect... absolutely perfect," he whispered, his free hand caressing the curve of your thigh.

Viktor's replaced his slender fngers with his tongue again, alternating between teasing flicks and deep strokes, savoring every taste. His metal fingers splayed across your thigh, holding you firmly, while his other hand trailed down to his own body. He shivered as he began to touch himself in time with his mouth on you, his quiet moans and hitched breaths vibrating against you, only intensifying your pleasure.

He glanced up now and then, his amber eyes darkened with desire, watching the way you responded, drinking in every soft gasp and tremble. The sight of your flushed face and parted lips seemed to drive him further, his movements becoming more hungry as he lost himself in the pleasure he was giving you. His fingers dug into your skin, his grip tightening as he grew more desperate, his own moans blending with yours, low and needy.

The lab was filled with the squelching sounds of your bodies. A mix of his restrained groans, the wet, rhythmic noises of his mouth, and your own stifled whimpers. You felt like you could cum any second as your stomach turned tighter. Viktor seemed to sense it, as his tongue pressing deeper, his pace quickening. His free hand gripped your thigh harder, pulling you even closer to him, as though he wanted to consume every last bit of you.

Just as you felt yourself reaching the edge, Viktor lifted his head slowly, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. His chest rose and fell in deep, unsteady breaths, his flushed cheeks and slightly dazed expression showing just how much he'd enjoyed himself. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your thighs, grounding you as you came back down, while he gazed up at you with a look of pure adoration.

He brought his metal thumb up to wipe away a stray drop from his chin, a slight, satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You taste... exquisite," he murmured, his voice low and rough, a mix of pride and lingering hunger shining in his eyes as he leaned up to kiss you, letting you taste the passion you had just shared.

Viktor then reached towards your soaked pussy to finger you again. The quiet wet sounds filled the air, amplifying the intimacy of the moment, creating a world that felt entirely your own. But then, a faint creak echoed through the room, and both of you froze. The unmistakable sound of the lab door opening snapped Viktor back to reality, and he stilled, his eyes widening as his gaze shot up to yours. You both turned, just in time to see Jayce entering, a stack of papers in hand.

Jayce's eyes met yours first, and then drifted towards Viktor, his fingers still inside you. For a brief, painful moment, silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant hum of hextech machinery. Jayce's expression shifted from surprise to awkward shock as the realization dawned on him. His mouth opened, as though he wanted to say something, but words seemed to fail him.

"I... I didn't mean to interrupt," he finally managed, his tone caught between embarrassment and disbelief. Jayce quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing as he backed out of the room, practically stumbling over his own feet.

"I'll... come back later," he stammered, disappearing from sight. The door clicked shut, leaving the lab filled with silence once more. Viktor's face had gone red, his eyes fixed on the floor, clearly mortified. But as he glanced down at you, the edges of his mouth twitched, and a quiet laugh escaped him, breaking the tension.

"Well," Viktor murmured softly, a hint of humor in his voice, "that... was unexpected." He lifted his soaked fingers towards his mouth as his other hand still lingering on your waist, sucking all of your juices as he maintained eye contact. His mouth made a popping sound as he let his fingers go from in between his lips. He then led his once soaked fingers towards the back of your neck, caressing your hair.

"Perhaps we'll continue... later?" he suggested, his voice low, a promise glinting in his eyes as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. You couldn't help but laugh, nodding as you pulled him into an hug. You hoped that jayce didn’t go out and tell anyone what happened. Because if he did and your parents knew, you would sure be in for a scolding.

taglist: @luneariaa @minagrayson @aliives @mammonsleftring @gxrextxgaidk @anna1-1 @bl-0-ndi-3

banner: @cafekitsune

[lokissweater]

i know your name ✭

{gojo satoru x f!reader}

summary: gojo satoru was practically everyone’s god as his shiny charming reputation has followed him ever since high school and through college— his band he had with his best friend suguru packing the local college pub every night just to see him sing and play the bass. unbeknownst to you, satoru has been keeping an eye on you, and when you officially meet him right before one of his shows, satoru just about falls to his knees over you.

warnings: MDNI. college au, CAR SMUT be patient!!, fingering, squirting, a bit of oral hehe, cursing, angst, FLUFFF, FILTHY DIRTY TALK, a sprinkle of degradation, tinyyy mentions of alcohol and drinking, gojo is obsessed with reader, afab!reader, jealousy.

word count: 8.8k

authors note: oh my goodness this one took me a FAT MINUTE but it’s SO SO CUTE and i hope you all think so too!! thank you thank you for all of your notes on my works!! MWAHH.

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“please come with me to the alley, i don’t think i can handle one moron and an even bigger moron by myself.”

shoko shimmied her jacket onto her shoulders, a disgruntled and pleading look on her face as she turned to face you. “they’re only playing a few songs, and you don’t have to drink!”

you laughed softly. “who’s they?”

“suguru and satoru, they’re playing at the alley.”

“gojo satoru?”

the cogs in your brain spun as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, a bit apprehensive. the alley was the place everyone went to at your college to get drunk and laid, and it also happened to be the place where the two boys played their band almost every night— satoru mainly having connections with the owner of the bar to even allow a bunch of college kids to trash the place to begin with.

you didn’t necessarily know satoru, but in your years of observing him back in high school, you knew he was viewed by anyone and everyone as a god, his reputation shiny and impressive as he had the greatest charisma and charm you had ever seen.

you remember back to when basically every other day he was getting confessed to in the halls or in class— or after school… or literally anywhere now that you thought about it.

but satoru has never been prideful or rude, even though it was something that was supposed to be written for him being the most popular guy— but he just simply didn’t follow it.

satoru was kind. really kind. and even though he got millions of confessions per year, he treated each rejection with gentleness and respect, never turning a cold eye to anyone as he apologized profusely and tried to help them feel better.

he always volunteered to do your class banners and plan your school’s activities, festivals, and field trips so nobody else had the burden of missing out on the fun. he always helped out the gardener after school and watered the plants with them (soon after practically taking over the entire shift for free and telling them to relax on a bench), tutored his friends and peers when they asked him for help, and made anyone that felt left out feel included.

that’s why he was so popular. gojo satoru was a ray of sunshine with bright blue eyes and white ruffly hair, with a gorgeous face that you never saw without a smile— loud and obnoxious and a little clumsy, but kind.

“i still don’t know why they started a band.. but they get pretty big tips every night so i guess that’s why,” shoko muttered, sipping the last of her iced tea as she got up from her seat— the cafe you were both sitting in quiet and warm as you copied her actions and stood. “or could be because satoru likes the attention.”

you weren’t close with suguru or satoru like shoko was, and you’ve never even properly met them either, but you always listened to her whenever she’d complain and understood her completely nonetheless.

you laughed at her last comment and smiled. “i’ll go… but i can only stay for two songs! i have class at seven am tomorrow.”

she smiled wide and threw her arms around you, “thank you thank you thank you!”

you’ve never actually been to the alley before, only having heard about it through the grapevine and from your other classmates that went, parties and concerts and drinking never really on the schedule for you. you honestly loved parties and concerts, and you loved the idea of hanging out with people and doing whatever your hearts desired until the sun came up.

but ever since you started college, your high school group kind of disappeared, and now you only really have one true best friend that you preferred over anything else, that being shoko. your nights are usually always calm and filled with studying or self care, your little life quiet and independent as you navigated through the days on your own.

and although you were a bit lonely at times, yearning for another soul to share your nights with, you learned to enjoy your own company.

the alley was a couple of blocks down from the cafe you and shoko were originally at, your ears already picking up on the vibrations of guitars and drums from outside as she approached the bouncer at the front, not even being able to get a word in before the big man was already telling her no.

“no?!” shoko dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “i was literally here last week, i’m friends with the band that’s playing.”

“sorry we’re at max capacity—”

“it’s okay, they both can come in. they’re on stage with us.”

your eyes snapped to the door and you recognized geto suguru, his long jet black hair cascading down to his shoulders as he sported an all black outfit— politely smiling at the bouncer.

the man moved to the side and ushered us in, shoko’s shoulders dropping in relief as you both walked in and over to a table by the stage. “thank you suguru.”

he nodded. “if i don’t, satoru will throw another fit again and say you don’t love him if you don’t show up.”

shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you, her lips pressed into a thin line. “you see what i mean?”

“shoko!” a loud, booming and enthusiastic voice rang through the pub as you turned, spotting none other than satoru with his long arms open, more or less throwing himself on her. “you came!”

“you threatened me—”

“i did no such thing!” he sprung back. “are you not here out of the goodness of your heart? to support your two best boys living their dreams?”

“no.”

“shokooo!” he whined and you giggled, which caused him to snap his head in your direction, finally noticing your presence.

her.

“oh! hello,” he smiled kindly to you and extended his hand. “i’m satoru, and you are?”

“y/n!” you grinned sweetly and politely to him, taking his cold hand in yours and shaking it.

“are you a friend of shoko’s?”

you nodded.

he cocked his head to the side, “how come i’ve never seen you around?”

“oh i don’t go out too often, that’s probably why,” you laughed lightly, a little embarrassed by your answer.

he beamed anyways, his smile so big and brilliant that you were starting to see for yourself exactly why everyone loved him so much, not that you didn’t already know the reason behind it in the first place.

“me neither!”

satoru was still holding your hand.

“yes you do!” shoko scoffed. “you’re barely ever at your apartment and i always have to be your designated driver—”

he gawked, glaring at her. “that’s not true! i was home yesterday!”

“because you were hungover.” suguru mumbled.

you laughed again, and satoru turned back to face you, a grin on his face.

just then, a rather large group of guys started making their way towards your area, all beckoning and calling for satoru while holding up several shot glasses, his head snapping towards their direction and flashing a dazzling smile.

“satoru come!”

“satoru take some with us!”

he gently let go of your hand and raised his, waving high as he readjusted his black round sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, “give me a second! i’ll be over!”

satoru turned back to you, resuming the conversation.

“sorry, she lies. she likes to lie. i’m glad i didn’t go to high school with her.”

“yes we did— i’m going over to your followers and stealing a shot, goodbye.” shoko grumbled, throwing her purse on the table and walking away, dragging suguru along with her.

“we actually um..” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “we went to high school together.”

“oh i know.”

your eyebrows pinched together.

he knows?

“you used to water the garden on days i couldn’t afterschool, right?”

your eyes widened a little.

“oh! and you used to fix the class banners whenever i didn’t notice my fuck up, which was always.” he patted the top of your head and laughed, “thank you for that by the way.”

“you knew?” you murmured, a rosy tint to your cheeks.

“duh,” his eyes softened. “i’m sorry i never thanked you properly then.”

you shook your head dumbly, a little spaced out as you took in what he said. “no it’s okay.”

your eyes then fell to the instruments and band set up behind him, suddenly remembering that he was performing tonight.

“so what do you guys play?” you spoke up gently, hands wringing behind your back. “do you play original songs? or covers?”

“covers! 80’s covers.” he explained excitedly. “suguru and i switch off singing. i play the bass and he plays the guitar, and we have a couple of extra friends in the back playing the drums and keyboard.”

your eyes sparkled as you watched the stage set up process, black chords scattered everywhere on the ground in disarray as several individuals on the platform tuned their instruments or plucked out a few notes.

“80’s?” you perked up. “what kind of 80’s?”

“what kind?”

“yeah! morissey? the cure? new order—”

satoru was awestruck, mouth slightly parted. “you know who they are?”

you quickly nodded, a cute smile on your face.

“you like the cure?” he asked quietly.

“i love the cure.”

satoru practically had hearts in his eyes as he beamed down at you with a stupid face, his heart a little frazzled with a familiar feeling sparkling in his chest.

“satoru!”

he snapped out of his trance and spun around, suguru on stage beckoning him over. “sorry, we have to start.”

“okay!” he walked backwards as he quickly faced you again and smiled, a little frantic. “i’ll talk to you after we play! i’m gonna quiz you on it so pay attention!”

you laughed, your hand covering your mouth a bit as you nodded. “is it counting towards my grade? or is it extra credit?”

“extra credit if you go on a date with me after the show!”

you stopped.

“she can’t! moron,” shoko suddenly appeared beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder. “she’s only staying for two songs!”

gojo’s jaw dropped slack, his shoulders slumping as he got up on stage, arms out. “two?!”

you grimaced, an apologetic look on your face and kind of feeling like a lame grandma as you nodded, “i have class at seven am tomorrow!”

before he could even respond, satoru got pulled by tech crew to test out his microphone, and you and shoko gradually settled yourselves on the high bar stool chairs at your table.

“odd,” she muttered with a funny look on her face.

“hm? what is?” your eyes switched to hers.

“satoru’s never asked a girl out before.”

your eyes bulged open. “never?”

“never.” shoko sipped a little at her beer and gave you a comforting smile. “i’ve always seen girls try it with him and ask him out or simply just follow him around like a lost dog, but he’s never gone after anyone.”

you watched a little smirk spread across her face, and your hands grew a tiny bit sweaty as you swallowed thickly.

“if you’re interested in him, there’s a line. but i think you have a head start.”

the music started— suguru introducing himself, satoru, and the band calm and pleasantly before they began playing their first song. it was loud and rhythmic, vibrations murmuring through the floor as your glass of water shook on the table with every note.

they weren’t bad at all— they were actually pretty good, really good, and you found yourself not really wanting to admit it since it seemed like satoru was good at a million different things regardless of category or genre.

“do they have a name for their band?!” you yelled over the music, leaning your frame a little closer to her without taking your eyes off of the stage.

shoko snorted, “the strongest monkeys.”

you threw your head back and laughed loudly, looking at her incredulously. “really?!”

as he performed on stage, satoru noticed you laugh and he smiled against the microphone, a vision he connected back to high school, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he was internally a little unsteady as your pretty eyes watched him play and sing— feeling embarrassed whenever he would trip over a chord clumsily like he seemed to do at every freaking show, but feeling better seeing as it made you giggle.

by the end of their second song, you showed shoko the time on your phone and tried to stand as discretely as possible in attempts at not disturbing anyone around you, grabbing your purse from the arm of your chair and swinging it over your shoulder.

but when you looked up, satoru was already looking at you as suguru spoke through the microphone, his eyes wide and pleading as he held up his index finger.

“one more song!” he mouthed. “please.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip anxiously, your eyes darting around the pub and back to the time on your phone before they landed again on satoru.

“stay.” he mouthed again.

and for reasons you couldn’t explain, your body pulled you back down on the stool and you sat— shoko quirking an eyebrow at you in confusion.

satoru’s face broke out into the brightest smile, a smile equivalent to the blinding rays of the sun as he pushed up his round sunglasses and gave you a cute thumbs up.

“thank you.”

and your heart stuttered.

you eventually decided to stay for the rest of the show, seeing as it was already late as fuck anyways— and they played few more songs then, a mix of well known 80’s songs as well as a few underrated ones, your head nodding gently to the beat and swaying your little shoulders. in the midst of it, satoru had been watching and glancing in your direction so many times throughout the show, that he subconsciously started mimicking your little shoulder sway on stage as he performed.

college girls screamed practically every five minutes when the boys did anything, some even going as far as running up the platform and reaching up for satoru’s hands or ankles as he played, him smiling bright at each and every one of them with shoko shaking her head in disappointment— her forehead falling to the palm of her hand as you laughed.

ironically by the end of it, the band closed with the cure, and as the crowd dispersed and several took their leave from the alley— some shouting words of praise at the boys, you and shoko stood and walked over to the stage. satoru in a heartbeat noticed you coming over and hooked his mic quickly back on the mic stand, tossing the strap of his bass over his shoulders and setting it down before hopping off stage.

“did you like it?” he panted hopefully, trying to catch his breath as his forehead glistened with sweat, his hands on his hips.

you smiled gently. “i did! good job, you both played really great songs.”

suguru gave you a small smile in gratitude from the platform as he unplugged and untangled a few chords— and satoru beamed, nodding. “i’m glad! okay, here comes your quiz!”

“oh god.”

“we played the cure at the end…” satoru dragged out.

“mhm…”

“what song?” he tilted his head to the side, and your cheeks went pink as you grinned.

“pictures of you,” you replied softly. “it’s my favorite one.”

satoru’s forehead fell to rest against your shoulder, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“i would expect nothing less from you, y/n.”

you hummed out a laugh, and his heart did a tiny somersault at the sound before he picked his head back up and looked at you softly.

“thank you for staying.”

shoko bounded over to you then and looped her arm through yours. “ready to go?”

you nodded quickly before smiling sweetly at satoru. “i’ll see you around! thank you for—”

“wait!” he shot his arms out frantically with wide eyes. “what about our date?”

you froze. “our date?”

“unless you want the quiz to count towards your grade…” he mumbled lowly, eyes darting on everything and everywhere except you with pinky cheeks.

“i didn’t think you were being serious about that..” you spoke gently.

his eyebrows furrowed. “why not?”

“because you’re gojo satoru,” shoko butt in.

you quickly flicked her forehead— your lips pressed into a thin line, earning a little laugh from satoru as you turned your head to look at him again.

“i have an early class tomorrow… ill see you around though, okay?”

without thinking, satoru reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him.

“let me take you to class.”

shoko and suguru exchanged a look and your lips parted, eyebrows pinching together.

“what?”

“i’ll take you to class in the morning,” he looked desperate. “and i won’t count the quiz towards your grade.”

you were skeptical, very skeptical, unsure of what satoru wanted from you in this situation. you had just met him, properly at least, and though you knew he was a good person, you weren’t sure if that was still relevant in the field of picking up girls.

you looked to shoko, who shrugged, and your eyes landed back to satoru’s pleading one’s, your entire body and soul hesitating.

“i—” you gnawed at your bottom lip, a nervous habit as you took in the way he looked like a sad little puppy the longer you took to respond, your heart not having the ability to ever say no to anyone, ever. not even him.

“okay.”

his shoulders relaxed, and he let out a puff of relieved air as he gave you the biggest smile, nodding hopefully.

“okay! h—here-” he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. “if i could— if i could have your number? and i’ll text you when im on my way and stuff…”

you shakily took satoru’s phone, the screen already opened up to the ‘add contact’ feature as you typed in your number before passing it back to him.

“thank you!” he beamed. “i’ll see you tomorrow then?”

he was so excited, and you really didn’t know why, but you couldn’t help but give him a sweet smile of yours in return, nodding.

“see you.”

when you finally arrived home that night, it didn’t take satoru even ten minutes after that to text you.

(unknown): i have good news for you miss y/n

you stared at your phone, your heart jumping a bit as you typed back a response.

(you): and i have bad news for you satoru

(satoru): WHAT

(satoru): ok wait me first

(satoru): congrats you passed my class!! that quiz bumped up your grade from 0% to 100% ur so smart

(satoru): but if your bad news is you rejecting me i’m FAILING you

(you): HAHAHAHA

(you): silly silly

(you): my bad news was that i always have banana milk on my way to school in the mornings and unfortunately i don’t have any extra for you :(

(you): i ran out ;(

within the two minutes that it took for you to respond with your declared bad news, satoru was absolutely shitting it, wholeheartedly believing you were going to reject him and leave him to dramatically rot away all alone.

he replied quickly, a goofy smile on his face.

(satoru): that’s literally the only reason why i asked you out :(

(you): and how do you know i have banana milk in the mornings before school?

(satoru): OH

(satoru): SO ABOUT TOMORROW

you giggled, wiping the last of your makeup off and turning off your vanity light before jumping into bed, snuggling into your covers as the cool air softly touched your face from your open window.

(you): *address*

(you): pick me up at 6:30 please, if that’s okay :)

(satoru): i’ll pick you up at six miss y/n

(you): SIX WHY

(satoru): for a breakfast date silly!! okay goodnight xoxo

you hadn’t even realized the huge stupid smile on your face until your rosy cheeks started to ache.

(you): HAHAHA

(you): goodnight <3

a heart?!

satoru stuffed his face into his pillow, feeling like little love birdies were flying around his head and pecking at his hair.

the following morning, you ran your fingers through your hair and probably fixed your outfit a million trillion times before you were satisfied, a huge lump in your throat as you gnawed so much at your bottom lip that it drew blood.

you were nervous, but why? you didn’t know why. maybe because it was gojo satoru picking you up. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had a guy try to hit on you in what felt like a decade, the last time really being the last day of high school when you randomly found a note in your locker, the words literally illegible.

maybe it was the fact that satoru was the most handsome man you have ever seen.

but so was he to everybody else.

(satoru): i’m outside! :]

you wiped your clammy hands on your legs and stood, hiking your school bag further up your shoulder before walking down the stairs and out the door, seeing satoru seated in his car in your driveway.

you timidly opened the door to the passenger side and stepped in.

“hi!” he greeted cheerfully and proceeded to place his hand on the back of your headrest as he backed out, looking through his rear view mirror.

“hi!” you said gently. “you’re not tired?”

“nuh uh,” he smiled at you. “i had three energy drinks before i got you.”

your head instantly whipped in his direction. “satoru— three?!”

he giggled at your reaction, the sides of his blue eyes crinkling as he patted your head. “don’t worry silly, i’ve had maybe five at a time before—”

“five?!”

you slumped against the passenger seat and closed your eyes. “satoru, you’re gonna develop heart problems if you keep this up.”

“nah,” he reached into the backseat, his eyes still on the road. “i’m the strongest.”

and you snorted then, watching him retrieve two small bottles of juice from the back without taking his eyes off of the road.

“i got us orange juice— wait do you like orange juice? oh fuck maybe—”

you giggled and waved him off, taking both bottles from his hands. “it’s okay! i do like orange juice, thank you.” you settled them on your lap neatly. “i’ll hold them while you drive.”

“aww thanks sweets,” he murmured affectionately, and your face instantly went warm to the touch.

“i also got us breakfast bagels so we can sit and people watch before your class—” his eyes snapped to yours. “if— if that’s okay.”

your heart skipped a beat at his planning, nodding as you reached into your school bag and pulled out a little yellow carton, holding it out for him as he drove.

satoru tore his gaze away from the road momentarily and looked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“your daily morning banana milk?”

you smiled softly, nudging it towards him. “for you.”

he physically melted as he looked at your sweet sweet face and back towards the road.

“you’re giving up your banana milk— for me?”

you tore off the straw from the back of the milk box, sticking it through the little opening and offering it to him again.

“yup yup.”

he bit his lower lip as he gratefully took the milk box from you, giddy and flustered on the inside as he took tiny sips.

“an absolute delicacy, thank you miss y/n.”

before you even realized it, satoru was already pulling in to the campus parking lot, shifting his gear into park and turning off the ignition before opening his door.

“don’t move!” he sputtered suddenly. “don’t touch that door hold on—”

he slammed his door shut and you watched quizzically as he ran across the front of the car and opened the door for you, flashing an award winning smile that could shatter the earth if he wanted to.

you still couldn’t piece together why he was doing so much for you or why he was interested in the first place, but as you watched him set up the breakfast bagels cutely as you both sat on the bench, him carefully handing you yours along with your orange juice, you didn’t really have the heart to ask him why.

maybe it was the more selfish side of you, the one that always longed to share little moments like this with another being, the one that always spent her days alone watching movies or doing little crafts in her room to keep the time going, a bittersweet feeling in your chest every time you saw your classmates or casual friends post about their parties or outings.

you hadn’t realized that you didn’t respond to whatever satoru had said, and you snapped out of it.

“fuck— i’m sorry satoru, i spaced out.” you laughed softly. “what were you saying?”

he stared at you, his eyes examining your face. “what’s wrong?”

“huh?”

“what were you thinking about?”

“it was— it was nothing,” you took a sip of your orange juice. “i forgot.”

satoru shoved his face close to yours, your breath hitching and your cheeks growing pink as you watched his eyes scan every part of you, his expression concerned.

“something’s bothering you,” he hummed. “am i being too forward? i’m— i’m sorry sometimes i don’t even realize—“

“no!” you shot your arms out frantically and placed them on his shoulders, “no, it’s not that, you’re okay satoru. everything you’ve done has been really nice, so thank you.”

your voice was so sweet as you spoke to him, and even though it made him feel better to some degree, he still couldn’t shake the empty and sad look he saw on your face when you were spaced out.

he slowly retreated back and hesitantly nodded as you placed your hands back on your lap, your fingers then tearing a piece from your breakfast bagel and plopping it into your mouth.

“did you ever find…” he spoke in between bites. “a note in your locker the last day of high school?”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “how do you know about that?”

he swallowed, a sheepish look on his face. “that was me. i put that note in.”

your eyes widened as your body completely froze over, putting your bagel down— the wrapper crinkling underneath as you did so.

“really?”

satoru nodded, his flushed cheeks prominent on his pale skin as he suddenly found his bagel super interesting to look at.

“what did it say?”

he looked at you baffled. “what did it say? what do you mean?”

you giggled then, your hand covering your mouth as you leaned forward a little bit. “i could— i could barely read it. the handwriting-“

“oh my fucking god!” satoru threw his arms up in despair. “that explains so much. i was so sad i straight up thought you hated me.”

you stopped. “what do you mean?”

“i wrote my name and how i thought you were really pretty, and then i wrote my number at the bottom.” he dropped his shaking head in his hands, laughing. “but i wrote it really fast because i saw you coming so i just stuffed it in there.”

he slumped over his legs on the bench, his elbows on his knees as he moaned.

“you think i’m pretty?” you asked softly.

he turned his head to the side as he was hunched over, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he smiled gently. “very.”

gojo satoru thought you were pretty.

you smiled cutely at him, reaching out and pushing his sunglasses back up his eyes, yours warm and endearing. “silly.”

you leaned back on the bench and giggled. “to be fair satoru, even if i was able to read your note, i probably would’ve thought it was a prank.”

“a prank? why?” his shoulders deflated, an unamused look on his face. “because i’m ‘gojo satoru’ like shoko said—”

“no,” you pushed. “because you’re a good person. you always go above and beyond for others and i’ve seen that as long as i’ve known you.”

you crossed a leg over the other and smiled softly. “and because of that i’m really not sure why you like me satoru, i haven’t really done anything special but—”

“what you just said is a crime. the way you think about me is the way i think about you.” he cut in, eyes serious. “you think you don’t do anything special? i literally watched you all through high school bend over backwards for people, for me, like i did,“ he sighed through his nose. “but your intentions were genuine and pure, mine were not.”

he finished the last of his bagel and crumpled up the wrapper into a ball, tossing it in the trash can next to him as he leaned back.

satoru swallowed. “i feel like if i don’t do the things that i do for people, ill end up disappointing everyone i know. i feel like everyone’s built this image of me that i don’t even know where the fuck it came from—” he shook his head. “but i don’t want to tarnish that. i don’t want to let people down. so i just let them ask me for stuff. i don’t even like going out that much either, believe it or not. i just go when they call.”

he crossed his arms. “whenever people do do something in return for me, it’s like i’m forever in their debt and they’re always expecting something from me back.”

your sad eyes softened, the confession in front of you a reaction from him you realized must’ve been buried deep deep down his chest— without any prior chance of resurfacing until this very moment.

you never thought about his situation this way. you would’ve never thought that satoru could’ve felt like this about his own reputation, something you guiltily believed was a thing he was absolutely floored over.

“you never expected anything back from me though,” he murmured. “you fixed my fucked up banners and switched around reservations when i absentmindedly chose the wrong thing for our school field trips, and you never said a word about it to me or anyone, and you didn’t expect anything back.”

he finally turned his bright blue eyes in your direction, and looked at you so deeply, so sincerely, that your mind went completely blank.

“that’s why i like you,” satoru bashfully scratched his cheek. “you do special things everyday and— and i was moved.”

there was a moment of silence, satoru staring at the ground as you stared at him, a delicate and insecure side of him unfolding before you that you don’t think anyone has ever seen, and you intended to keep it that way— wanting this special moment selfishly just for you.

you slowly leaned forward then as you made him look at you.

“its natural for you to be upset and think indifferently about people walking all over you, toru. it doesn’t mean you’re not genuine or pure.”

raising your arm, you poked his pink cheek gently and gave him a little comforting smile. “it actually only further solidifies to me how much of a good person you are. because even though people take advantage of your kindness, you help them with what they need regardless, and do way more.”

his eyes softened.

“at the end of the day, even though it makes you a little mad, you want to help people, because if you didn’t, you simply wouldn’t do it.”

you nudged his shoulder playfully with yours, “but not anymore, okay? from now on when people are blatantly taking advantage of how nice you are, you have to draw a line they can’t cross.”

he smiled wide.

“i’d let you cross it.”

“no not even me,” you shook your head. “not that’d i’d ever anyways.”

he looked at you, and then unexpectedly, satoru slowly leaned in and pressed a delicate, soft kiss to your cheek— his lips lingering there greedily for a few seconds more before pulling away, your shocked bright pink cheeks making him burst out laughing.

you missed class without even realizing, but you didn’t have an ounce of care in your body, seeing as satoru was worth more than anything from that point on.

since then you both hung out a lot more, and you still had your little quiet nights of self care, arts and crafts, and movies— except now, satoru was present in every activity.

satoru longed for your lifestyle, and you longed for his— so the act of watching movies together until two in the morning, making horrific origami bird shapes that never looked like the pictures in the instruction manual and laughing, sorting through his 80’s cd collection in his apartment while he sampled a few for you on his bass, and singing the cure so loud through his car sunroof while he drove you aimlessly at night with a strong grip on your thigh, were all a perfect blend of exactly what you both needed most.

it was several months of spending every waking moment together that you soon eventually became a little thing with satoru. there wasn’t an official label, and you guys hadn’t even kissed, but the longer than normal embraces, kisses on each others cheeks, and intertwined fingers everywhere you went was an obvious sign that something was there.

you picked up on how people looked at you more often rather quickly ever since satoru started bringing you around his circle, wondering how you came out of nowhere and captured his attention when thousands had tried for years.

and though most welcomed you with open arms and kind smiles, the majority of his girl fan base was bitter.

shoko often told you to just shake it off and not pay any mind to it, saying that it was a bunch of mean girls with nothing better to do, but it got a little harder once a pretty black haired girl named lina started grabbing satoru for conversations almost every night at the alley.

and today was no different.

“hi sweets!” satoru greeted you enthusiastically, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as you arrived early to the pub to help him and suguru set up for tonight’s show. “you look very pretty today.”

“thank you!” you smiled wide and leaned up on your tippy toes, your body automatically pulling your lips to his until you quickly steered them to the corner of his mouth, pecking lightly before settling back down on the soles of your feet.

that wasn’t the first time you had almost accidentally kissed him, but it wasn’t just you, as satoru slipped up almost every second of every day when you both were together— the thought making you laugh internally as you followed him to the stage.

“don’t help out this time—” he pleaded gently with you as he took a high barstool chair for you and dragged it closer to the stage. “i want you to just sit and be pretty.”

you tilted your head to the side. “why toru? i don’t mind helping out i like it—”

“no i know!” he smiled sweetly at you. “but i want you to just sit there and relax and not lift a finger tonight. you’ll hurt yourself if you do.”

you giggled softly and nodded, hopping up on the stool and wringing your fingers together on your lap as you watched satoru set up his amp and readjust his mic stand, gnawing on your bottom lip as you watched the way his biceps and chest looked in his black compression tee.

“are you thirsty sweets?” he asked, his eyes trained to the ground as he untangled a bunch of chords and threw them behind him. “i can get you something from the bar?”

“oh no!” you shook your head quickly. “it’s okay toru you’re busy—”

satoru hopped off the stage and jogged over to the bar, him exchanging a few words with the bartender that you couldn’t quite make out until he jogged back over with a cold glass of sugary iced tea, placing it on your table under a coaster.

“for you.”

you smiled sheepishly, “thank you.”

“if you need—”

“satoru! hey!”

you snapped your head over to the entrance and saw lina, her wave a little flirty as she bounced over to the both of you.

lina only spared you a glance before her sparkling suggestive eyes landed back on satoru.

“oh hey?” he looked over at the clock on the wall. “im sorry, the alley doesn’t open for another two hours—”

“oh i know!” she twirled a strand of hair with her fingers. “i just wanted to stop by and see if you needed any help? you know, setting up?”

what.

your eyebrows pinched together and you looked at satoru, waiting for his answer.

“oh! um— sure! thanks!” he smiled at her, and you felt a pang of annoyance through your chest as you watched him lead her on stage and give her directions, much like how he did for you when you helped out.

you crossed a leg over the other and looked away.

satoru wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t like you could say anything or feel the way that you did… but then again, isn’t he kind of? you didn’t know, and the more you wracked your brain to try and figure out what exactly the both of you were, the angrier you got at the situation in front of you.

satoru flashed lina his world famous dazzling smile, cracked joke after joke and made her laugh, helped her when she went “confused” and helpless, and even showed her basic chords on his bass when she asked.

you pursed your lips, eyes narrowed. satoru was smiling at her the way he smiled at you and cracking jokes the way he joked with you, and your jealousy only grew as you let your mind wander if the way satoru treated you was actually anything significant if he was willing to do it for some random girl.

you sat there for what had felt like forever, people starting to pile in for the show as the alley opened, and you hopped off the stool bitterly to cool off in the restroom, not bothering to let satoru know.

just as you got in line, you felt a hand tug at your wrist.

“y/n!”

you turned around and spotted shoko, smiling until she took in your annoyed expression.

“what’s wrong?”

“lina,” you muttered.

“oh god,” shoko leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “what the fuck is she doing now?”

“satoru help me, satoru how many chords does a bass have? satoru you’re so good at singing! satoru you owe me after this!” you mimicked, your heart heavy as you let shoko lead you back to your table.

“she’s getting braver,” she muttered. “say the word y/n and i’ll fake trip and spill my drink on her it’s easy—”

you snorted, “no no, it’s okay shoko. if satoru wants to let himself be drooled over and do nothing about it in respects to me, he can be my guest.”

the show started, girls already screaming and running up the stage with, of course, lina front and center by satoru, jumping and wiggling her sick fingers up at him.

satoru was like he normally was at his shows— attentive to everyone and being just who he is, but what ticked you off more than usual was how much attention he was paying to lina, way more than the rest, and you couldn’t even watch the stage anymore when satoru reached down and held her hand for a moment, not once glancing up at you.

you were done.

“i think i’m gonna go!” you shouted to shoko over the music.

“what?!” shoko grabbed your arm. “don’t go! it’s almost over! i wanna see you chew him out!”

you laughed and shook your head. “i can’t stand being here, and he clearly doesn’t care whether i’m here or not right now so—”

more screams.

both of your heads snapped to the source.

lina was on stage with him.

you scoffed and grabbed your purse, ignoring shoko’s protests as you pushed your way through the crowd and away from the stage.

when satoru finally decided to scan for you through the pub, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw your seat empty and shoko glaring straight murderous daggers at him.

“where is she going?” he mouthed to shoko.

“home!” she spat loudly, getting up herself and disappearing through the crowd.

satoru’s eyes immediately widened, his fingers clammy and numb as he started to pluck the wrong notes, suguru giving him a weird look.

“carry the show without me,” satoru quickly told him, frantic. “please, i have to go.”

suguru nodded and waved him off, seeming like he knew why satoru’s skin was sickishly pale as he carried on calmly.

it wasn’t like you to just leave without him or not tell him anything, so as he threw the strap of his bass over his shoulders and handed it to a tech member, he hopped off stage and ran through the crowd, ignoring their pleas of protest or the tugging he felt at his clothes.

you were halfway down the parking lot when you heard the pub door slam open and footsteps running towards you.

“sweets!—” satoru yelled. “hey- where are you going?!”

“home!” you yelled over your shoulder, arms crossed as you kept walking.

satoru’s stomach dropped.

“y/n!” he caught up to you and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around as he tried to catch his breath. “why? are you okay?”

“just fine!” you spat. “why don’t you go back on stage and drool all over lina—”

“lina?” he gawked. “drool? what are you talking—”

you shrugged his hands off of your shoulders. “do you not see how she’s been all over you for what seems like fucking months?! and you just let her! i’ve been ignoring it but today you really pissed me off—”

you turned away again and he immediately grabbed your waist with his hands, pulling you back.

“hey- no. tell me what i did okay just tell me—”

you scoffed. “you really don’t see it? first of all she came to the alley two fucking hours early today, and then she’s all over you and you’re all over her and you’re smiling at her and making her laugh like you do with me, and then she’s playing the little damsel in distress helping you set up while i just sat there and watched—”

“all over her?” his eyes narrowed. “i couldn’t give less of a shit about lina—”

“apparently you do!” you moved away from him, his hands falling from your hips. “because she’s giving you the ‘i wanna fuck you eyes’ every two seconds, and you’re holding her hand while you’re on stage, and then you literally pulled her on?! what the fuck am i supposed to think with that?!”

“i didn’t pull her on she jumped on!” satoru exclaimed, his arms out. “i’m sorry sweets that i didn’t notice okay i really am, but have you stopped to think that maybe i didn’t notice because i don’t care about her? i—”

“satoru you’ve been completely ignoring me the minute she got here—”

“toru.” he cut you off, voice firm. “it’s toru not satoru.”

you stopped, frustrated and hurt tears slowing brimming your eyes as you looked at him. “maybe you being a little flirt for everyone was okay before, but the minute you decided to butter me up and kiss my cheeks and call me sweets, that should’ve been over.”

“it is!” he exclaimed. “it’s been over! it never even started in the first place!”

“yes it did! you think i haven’t been watching how you are with people since high school?— you know what i’m done. i’m leaving.”

you sniffled and spun around again, but satoru only grabbed your wrist tightly and wrung you back.

“you think i haven’t been watching you?! i’ve loved you since fucking high school god dammit! i’m obsessed with you! when we officially met at the alley and i introduced myself i already knew your name and you know that! i don’t give a single living fuck about lina or anyone else but you! it’s always been you!”

you wiped your tears roughly with your sleeve.

gojo satoru loved you.

“so no. you’re not done. please don’t cry. all i’ve ever wanted was you and i let you slip through my hands in high school because i was a coward, and id rather die than let you slip through my fucking hands again and lose you over a stupid fight when i just got you!—”

“you’re not losing me i’m not going anywhere toru where the hell are you getting that from?!” you exclaimed.

“thank fuck then, so what are we still doing?! i’d cut everyone in my life off if you asked me to!—”

“no don’t do that! i was just jealous okay and i’m— and i’m angry—”

“okay but do you love me?!” he pushed angrily.

“yes! of course i do you know that!”

“okay so do i baby so what the fuck are we still fighting for?!”

“i don’t know!”

“stop giving me your little attitude then and come kiss me!”

your lips instantly collided with his as you threw your arms around his neck, fast hurried kisses that knocked the wind out of you as you both hungrily and fiercely tried to swallow each other’s lips, satoru tapping the back of your thighs and signaling you to jump on him.

you immediately sprung up and wrapped your legs around his waist, him holding you tight as he carried you over to his car and leaned you against the backseat door, his lips messily licking and swiping over yours as he seemed drunk on the taste of your sweet spit alone.

satoru dug through his pockets without breaking from your lips and found his keys, unlocking his car with a tap of a button and gently lowering you inside, him scrambling in after you and slamming the door shut, locking it.

he towered over you as he latched his lips back on yours, you laying flat on your back with your legs spread, satoru’s big cold hands on the sides of your thighs as he slowly slid your tiny little denim skirt further up— right up until he felt your silky panties under his fingertips.

“i gotta—” he said in between kisses. “take them off—”

you nodded quickly. “please take them off—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish before he practically tore your panties down your legs and stuffed them in his back pocket, his breathing erratic.

“oh my goodness,” he spread your legs gently, eyes completely wide and glazed over as he looked at your slick and shiny pussy. “you’re so pretty baby, just like how i pictured you.”

he ran a finger down your slit and your hips jumped, your teeth biting down on your lower lip as you let out a symphony of whines that satoru wanted to record on his phone and play morning, noon, and night for himself and his dick.

he stared mesmerized at your fuzzy pink cheeks and swollen wet lips as he slowly rubbed over your clit, you immediately grabbing his unoccupied hand and sticking his middle finger in your mouth to suck in response.

“oh my god—” he threw his head back, his delicious adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.”

he felt you bob your head up and down slowly on his finger and his head snapped down, eyes widening as he watched you act like a little slut for him, his hands with a mind of their own as he inserted his unoccupied middle finger in your slurping hole.

you let out a muffled gasp through the digit in your mouth and you spread your legs wider, his long and mouthwatering finger pumping in and out of you slowly, satoru’s body literally shivering at the sounds of your warm squelching pussy.

“listen to her baby…” he hummed. “she’s so fucking loud for me… how embarrassing.”

“toruuu,” you whined at his teasing, clamping your legs shut as you felt the tip of his finger hit that sweet spot in your walls that made your toes curl.

“open your legs.” he demanded. “who said you could close them, hm? i sure fucking didn’t.”

satoru picked up the pace and slipped in his ring finger without warning, your walls stretching and filling up as he abused your little cunt rapidly.

“you ever squirted before baby?” he huffed out, lips eating up your neck as you shuddered, your body jolting up and down at how fast he was fingering you.

you shook your head dumbly. “n—no, i don’t think i can—”

satoru laughed and bit your neck meanly. “yes you can sweets, your little pussy was just waiting for me to do it.”

he went even faster, a series of slap slap slap’s filling the car as his palm and digits hit your cunt repeatedly, sticky and soppy as he moaned over and over in your ear, absolutely intoxicated with the sloshing noises of your pussy and the way it was speaking to him, satoru utterly and incandescently obsessed with everything that was you.

“m—my god—” he panted, his pace brutal and animalistic as his long fingers rapidly plunged into your gummy hot hole, his tongue licking and slopping all over the side of your neck, your moans straight up filthy as the windows of his car fogged up.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—” he dragged his mushy kisses from your neck up to your chin and back to your lips. “be my girlfriend—” slap slap slap— “p-please be my girlfriend be my girlfriend i need you so bad i c-can’t live without you anymore—”

you eagerly nodded, your thighs shaking as you gripped his shoulders and tried to keep up with his kisses that swallowed your lips up hole. “y-yes— mph! i will toru i will—”

his car shook violently as he fucked your cunt with his fingers without mercy, an unfamiliar intense feeling bubbling up at the pit of your stomach as he did so, your entire pussy pulsing and swollen as you squealed, massive droplets of liquid spraying all over satoru and the leather seats of his car.

“fuck yes baby, give me what i want that’s it—”

satoru groaned so loudly as you squirted, him jerking his nasty fingers to selfishly get more out of you.

“thaaaats it sweets—” he panted, slowing down. “that’s it.”

you evidently blacked out at this point, your brain misty and distorted as you tried to come down from your delirious high, a high you’ve never ever felt before with your own digits.

satoru licked his fingers raunchily and lowered his face to your pussy, cleaning up any remnants and left over drops on your thighs and pussy with his perverted tongue, your body jerking and you whining again as you shut your thighs closed in overstimulation.

he came back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before flashing you the biggest most innocent smile, as if he didn’t just absolutely destroy your cunt minutes ago without grace.

slowly, you regained a sense of direction and finally looked at him properly as he sat down and pulled you gently up by his arms, your body practically limp as he settled you on his lap and hugged you affectionately, his cheek squished up against your forehead.

“so can you squirt or what.” he teased softly, a smile still on his face.

you giggled shyly and buried your face in his neck. “i made a mess.”

“that’s literally what i wanted don’t even start.” he mumbled, and you laughed again, louder this time.

“were you serious about me being your girlfriend?” you asked suddenly, your voice smaller and timid. satoru pulled back and tilted his head, catching your eyes with his.

“of course i was,” he said quietly. “i literally begged you while my fingers were knuckle deep in—”

you covered your face with your hands and laughed with a whine. “stop! okay okay! i get it.”

you took your face away from his neck and looked at him properly, tilting your head cutely as your eyes shined and sparkled with affection, him giving you the same look back as you leaned up and pecked his lips lovingly.

“you know…” you began. “when we first properly met and you asked me out that night, shoko told me there was a line i had to stand in if i was interested in you.”

satoru snorted, his eyebrows raised. “a line?”

you nodded. “mhm. you literally can’t pretend there isn’t one toru… and lina is in it too,” you finished off, snickering.

he rolled his eyes and huffed, feigning annoyance, but when he looked at you again, he only smiled and stared at you like you hung the moon and stars yourself, a blush to his pale cheeks that never seemed to go away as long as you were around.

“line or not—” he sincerely spoke.

“you’ve always been the first one.”

[tonycries]

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.

Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 

Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm

“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.

Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”

The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”  

You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.” 

“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”

Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”

Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.

Well, there was still time. Right? 

Nonsense, maybe.

Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.

“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”

Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”

“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious. 

“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”

Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”

“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement. 

“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”

You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?

“Well, doll?”

Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”

Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”

Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”

And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.

The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji. 

You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and- 

And then he’s pulling away. 

It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing. 

Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”

Well. Two can play that game.

“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.

Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”

Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.” 

Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice. 

A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji. 

And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave. 

“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”

“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?

“Oh yeah?”

And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress. 

“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”

Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him. 

Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”

“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”

And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Yeah, atta girl.”

Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.

“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue. 

But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked. 

With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.

“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears. 

“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”

“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”

He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance. 

Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”

His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. 

It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-

“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.

Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess. 

“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip! 

“I- ngh- m’gonna-”

“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”

“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.” 

And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-

“Then cum f’me, doll.”

And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you. 

“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy. 

Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.

The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.

“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.

“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”

Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.

“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?

He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?

And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it. 

“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight. 

You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”

“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”

“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going.  “I can repay you another way.”

And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin. 

“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more. 

“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”

You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you. 

Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel. 

“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”

Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”

And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him. 

“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”

Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.

“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.” 

And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad. 

…

Nahhh

Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”

And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt. 

Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you- 

“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.

“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”

And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-

“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.

Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”

If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.

But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.

“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”

“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust. 

And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-

“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-

“Found it.”

And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-

“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”

“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words. 

“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet. 

“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars. 

Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”

You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth. 

And that answers his question. 

Messy and desperate. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well. 

Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white

Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed. 

Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all. 

“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.

“For that, m’keeping the panties.” 

--- 

“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”

The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter. 

A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”

“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”

A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[satoruan]

HELL BENT — RYOMEN SUKUNA

✧･ﾟ The Incubus King finally claims his intended.  

( TW ) f!reader, incubus king!Sukuna, major size difference (Sukuna’s 8ft tall!), harem, group sex, fingering, cunnilingus, biting, rough sex, bleeding, forked tongues, cervix fucking, mating bonds, reader goes in some type of ‘heat’, explicit content. 

word count - > 1.5k

author's note: PLS don’t take this seriously Idek what this is!! unedited + I'm trying a new writing style

Can’t stop thinking about Incubus king!Sukuna who finally finds his intended after centuries of looking. Who finds her in a place he never thought to check, the human realm. Who he kidnaps and brings down to his realm, telling you how you are to be his queen and rule his subjects alongside him. You have a mental breakdown your first week. The change of scenery, coming to terms that this is real, the differences between you and Sukuna’s species he calls Incubus. You’ve heard of them before, but you didn't think they were real—who did? They’re eight feet tall, winged creatures who liked to fuck 24/7. Half of them roam around naked and you can’t turn a hallway without catching two or more in sexual activities. So, hearing that you're some type of ‘mate’ to the king of the creatures? You think you’re dreaming. Sukuna brings you food every day and talks about how the mating bond has been activated now. How the several next week's you’re going to be restless until he ruts and claims you. 

You scream and cry how this is his fault. He leans over the buffet of food and smacks your thigh with a grumble. You refuse to speak to him for the rest of the night even when he undresses and washes you. Making crude comments like how he can’t wait to breed your human body full of his offsprings. Sukana who doesn’t have the time for your refusal to talk to him for he has a kingdom to run, so he drops you off to a group of naked, pierced women who he calls his harem. He gently pushes you into one of the tall women before telling her to take care of you or else.  

You can’t find it in your to be jealous of the women for being his ‘harem.’ You don’t even like Sukuna right now and the women, they’re so kind and mature that you would much rather spend your days lazing around with them than sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he laughs at his people who come to him with misfortunes.  His harem teaches you all about their lands, how sex isn’t taboo instead something they need just like oxygen is to humans. How when they fuck, they release some type of energy that’s built up in their body that causes their kind to go insane and terrorize the human realm.  

Sukuna’s harem who are utterly obsessed with how small you are compared to them. They used to spend their days lying around on rich cushions and blankets waiting for Sukuna but even they got bored of him—if it were up to them, they’d lock him in their room and never let him out. His harem who was supposed to be teaching you more about their king but instead chose to spend their days lazily eating you out with their long-forked tongues and fucking you dumb with their big fingers. They make you suckle their breasts and grind on their faces. They’re so gentle after, hissing at each other when one speaks too loudly after you had fallen asleep, washing your body clean, wrapping you in the softest blankets to carry you back over to your room with Sukuna. Some days they happen to catch Sukuna in his room, and they smirk and giggle when they see his jealous face. They take it as the highest compliment their queen has decided to lie with them before the king.  

Incubus king!Sukuna who feels the mating bond grow stronger with every second you're in his castle. He feels himself shifting. He unable to stay away for long periods of time. He forces you to bathe with him before making you sit on his throne with him while he talks to irrelevant people, his hard cock jumping every time you move. You want to get away, moaning and grumbling how his you want to go play with his harem, it’s uncomfortable sitting on muscular thighs for hours while listening to him talk in several languages you don’t understand to people you don’t know. Sukuna who hisses and grumbles at you before going back to his subjects who kneel at the bottom of his obsidian throne.  

 Throughout the week you can’t help but get hornier and hornier until your unable to walk without liquids dripping down your thighs and wetting your skirts. Despite Sukuna's harem playing with you can’t help but plead and cry for him. You barely know the man but your body aches for him, for his cock, his bond. Sukuna who finally comes to see you one day. Who picks you up to set you up top of the cushions so you can watch him fuck his harem. He does everything he could think to the women, he wants to see what makes you twitch and ache and cry. By the time he’s done—hours later—you’re in a puddle of slick panting and crying how you want him. He doesn’t take you though, he can smell that you aren’t ready for him just yet, and he can’t risk injuring his mate who he’s searched for centuries. He won’t allow himself to bring you any harm, so he just holds you in his lap and makes his harem play with you until you pass out. 

Sukuna whose balls deep in one of his women when he sniffs that air and smells the scent change in you. The women he’s fucking laughs when he yanks himself out of her and goes to you. He picks you up from the drenched cushion you're sitting on. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob and the feeling of his body. You try to wrap your legs around his huge frame but you’re too tired, so they just hang as he walks you back to your room, your thighs rubbing against his cock. Sukuna lays you down on the huge bed before ripping your silky dress and ding his head in between your legs. He brings you to several orgasm, but his mouth and forked tongue isn't what you want. You want his cock. You want him to fuck you pregnant while he bites you and claims you as his. You scream and kick and pull and at the pair of horns on top his head, but he just shushes you before going back to eating you out.  

Sukuna finally deems you ready to take his cock but before he kisses and drags his teeth all over your body. He suckles at your breast, commenting on how you’ll be feeding him with said breasts soon. You cry out when he finally turns you ass up. You don’t even think about how much bigger he is than you, how his cock might not fit inside. Sukuna pushes your head into the blankets, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it over your pussy. You scream at him, but he ignores you enjoying the sight of your pussy against his too big cock. When he finally pushes into you scream into the pillow. You scream for more, for him to slow down, for him to breed you, for him to fuck you harder, for him to stop and let you catch a break. He’s too out of it to listen. He never knew what it would feel like to claim a mate but this? If he had any doubt the little human underneath his wasn’t his, he didn’t now. He finally felt whole. He felt your essence flowing into him, making him stronger, more aware, if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel your emotions and hear your thoughts. He fucked your impossibly harder. 

Sukuna leans down and whispers for you to open, and let him in. You don’t understand what he's talking about until his cock shoots some warm liquids and you feel your cervix open. It hurts so good when he pushes deeper into you. You orgasm again before he releases his seed into you. The tension leaves your body at the feeling of his seed rushing to your womb. You’re about to succumb to the sleepiness before Sukuna jolts you awake saying this is just the beginning.  

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader (2)

contents: tooth-rotting fluff. arranged marriage au. sylus as your sweet and doting husband who's simply in love with you and anything that you do. 1.5k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ thank you for everyone's patience who requested a part two!! I truly hope this meets your expectations <3

part one here. ꒱

⭒ You’re an early bird married to a night owl. After gradually moving your belongings into Sylus’ master bedroom, your different sleeping schedules were made acutely aware. His day is just beginning when you’re heading to bed and he’s more or less mentally retired after a long night of business dealings and meetings when your body decidedly rises with the first rays of light at dawn. Because of this, you both compromise to meet somewhere in the middle—Sylus sweetly tucks you in later than your usual bedtime and leaves only when you’d fallen asleep, and you snuggle with him in the mornings until the very last minute and you’re forced to get ready for the working day. However, his sleeping patterns are more on the irregular side and he’ll check in on you when he’s supposed to be resting.

⭒ When Luke and Kieran witness you and Sylus bid each other with a goodbye kiss—an affectionate and wholesome display between lovers as your husband sees you off to work at the front door, they are stunned and lose it from the sidelines at the budding romance. “Wait, what just happened?” “Was there a development while we were gone?” The crow twins would share glances and decipher the scene before them together. They both have been rooting for you and their boss since day one, and they marvel at the way you both are completely smitten with each other. As though you two are like newlyweds who can't get enough of your shared love, unwilling to separate just yet even as you slowly step away from Sylus.

⭒ His touch linger with purpose to hold onto every last part of you and his hands move from your waist and slide down your arms to hold your hands until his fingers curl slightly and mourn the loss of your warmth when he eventually has to let you go. When Sylus watches your figure disappear and return back inside his home he receives a thumbs up and pending double high fives respectively from his two henchmen. He walks past them and ignores their antics by giving them orders, but Luke doesn’t leave his brother hanging and celebrates that their boss is officially and undeniably in love.

⭒ Anniversaries were an unexpected thing to celebrate with Sylus—along with holidays and birthdays. You were caught by surprise when you received a gorgeous dress and pearls inside a pretty wrapped box adorned with ribbons after being married to Sylus for three months. You weren’t quite romantically involved with him at that point and went along with what he planned for the evening, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just a performance for the public at an upscale restaurant but he genuinely wanted to make this night special for you. Then something in the air shifted and became sweeter and you suppose you wanted to start making the smaller things in life count. Even if there wasn’t a particular milestone coming up, you decide to make one up yourself. After all, there’s a true saying that the secret to marriage is keeping it fresh and interesting.

⭒ With the help of the cute twins, they set up a cozy tent in the verdant space of the garden meanwhile you decorate fairy lights all around in swooping arcs and tight lines, arrange pillows and blankets inside, and place a deck of kitty cards in the center. After everything is where you need it to be, you show the boys your gratitude and send them away as you work on the finishing touches. You gather the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and two glasses for the red wine when suddenly your husband sneaks up from behind you and wrap himself around you, inquiring about how the twins wanted him to come find you… Oh those cheeky little things. Well, never mind them. “Don’t tell me that you forgot what today is. Happy 300 days since our first kiss, baby.” You admit that it may come off as a little silly and no one’s truly keeping count, but you simply wanted to do something nice for him.

⭒ Sylus never passes up an opportunity to take care of his darling wife. Even if that means going along with your unusual ideas like you suggesting to borrow his dress shoes after the auction show was over. He throws you a puzzled look followed by a bemuse chuckle, and he supposes he could oblige if that’s what you really wanted. You explain to him that being well dressed from head to toe to match his outfit came at the price of your painfully, aching feet. And he can’t resist giving into your demands when you ask with such adorable little pouts. There are more practical methods to go about the situation, but he certainly loves humoring you even if things don't work out the way you thought they would.

⭒ Sylus leads you to a nearby bench and gestures for you to have a seat while he removes his shoes and bends down on one knee before you, unworried about dirtying his expensive trousers. He works diligently to undo the straps around your ankles and place your heels aside to focus on slipping his shoes onto your feet. “Well, you look quite fetching in my shoes. Now shall we continue our walk or do you have any more requests to make?” He helps you straighten yourself as he returns to his normal height. You huff and make a discontent noise when you almost trip over your own two feet trying to take a step forward in your (his) much too large and too spacious shoes. “Actually, these won’t do. I changed my mind, I want my heels back.”

⭒ Sylus chuckles at your hopeless attempt, his hand going on your hip to keep you from toppling over and accidentally hurting yourself. “Ah, it appears my shoes are too big for you, kitten. You say you want your heels back, hm?” He kneels before you once more as he retrieves your pair of heels, his fingers brushing along the underside of your leg and he carefully tugs them back on your feet. He gives your ankle a gentle squeeze as he finishes securing the straps, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. "There, I hope you're satisfied now, my sweet wife." His arm then goes around your waist and he effortlessly lifts you off the ground without so much as a warning. He smirks at your precious reaction, your body flushed against his meanwhile your arms encircle his neck for balance. “Why don’t I just carry you the rest of the way instead?”

⭒ You’re snuggled up against Sylus’ chest as you bring a concern to his attention one night. “What happens when our arrangement comes to an end?” The main reason you agreed to marry him in the first place is because it was a contract marriage with a specific time frame of five years that you’d have to spend with him. And you realize that with everything he does, he’s always been considerate of you as a whole even with how he drafted this contract knowing that it could end at his own expense. He provided you with a means of freeing yourself from him if you for whatever reason wished to no longer continue your marriage with him after the term ends. The choice is left entirely up to you because he never wanted you to feel trapped but he won’t make it easy for you. “If I decided to leave, you’d really let me go?”

⭒ Sylus hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on you and he seems to be thinking about something as his expression grows serious. “You always know how to ask the tough questions, don’t you sweetie?” After a moment, he lets out a small sigh and nods. “…Yes. Technically, you’ll be free to go. I won’t stop you if you truly want to leave.” Another sigh escapes him, yet his voice remains soft and sincere and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his palm cradles your cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay. What do you want to happen when the contract ends, darling?”

⭒ You mull over your thoughts, teasing him with a pensive look as you purposely drag on the seconds. “Since you’re leaving it up to me, I think… I want to renew our vows at the five-year mark. How’s that sound?” A surprise and slight disbelief flit across his face at the same moment his countenance softens at your affirmation. “You want to renew our vows?” You offer him a demure nod with your sweet smile and he gently takes your hand in his, bringing it to his face and laying a kiss against your knuckles. “Then it’s settled. I would be honored to renew our vows when the time comes. There will be no more contracts or strings attached. We’ll be bound by our love and our love only.”

[physalian]

How To Make Your Writing Less Stiff 5

Movement

Dredging this back up from way back.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much during heavy dialogue scenes. E.g. two characters sitting and talking—do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them…

Gesture

Wave

Frown

Laugh

Cross their legs/their arms

Shift around to get comfortable

Pound the table

Roll their eyes

Point

Shrug

Touch their face/their hair

Wring their hands

Pick at their nails

Yawn

Stretch

Sniff/sniffle

Tap their fingers/drum

Bounce their feet

Doodle

Fiddle with buttons or jewelry

Scratch an itch

Touch their weapons/gadgets/phones

Check the time

Get up and sit back down

Move from chair to tabletop

The list goes on.

Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t—what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

As in, you could say “he’s nervous” or you could show, “He fidgets, constantly glancing at the clock as sweat beads at his temples.”

This site is full of discourse on telling vs showing so I’ll leave it at that.

Epithets

In the Sci-fi WIP that shall never see the light of day, I had a flashback arc for one male character and his relationship with another male character. On top of that, the flashback character was a nameless narrator for Reasons.

Enter the problem: How would you keep track of two male characters, one who you can't name, and the other who does have a name, but you can’t oversaturate the narrative with it? I did a few things.

Nameless Narrator (written in 3rd person limited POV) was the only narrator for the flashback arc. I never switched to the boyfriend’s POV.

Boyfriend had only a couple epithets that could only apply to him, and halfway through their relationship, NN went from describing him as “the other prisoner” to “his cellmate” to “his partner” (which was also a double entendre). NN also switched from using BF’s full name to a nickname both in narration and dialogue.

BF had a title for NN that he used exclusively in dialogue, since BF couldn’t use his given name and NN hadn’t picked a new one for himself.

Every time the subject of the narrative switched, I started a new paragraph so “he” never described either character ambiguously mid-paragraph.

Is this an extreme example? Absolutely, but I pulled it off according to my betas.

The point of all this is this: Epithets shouldn’t just exist to substitute an overused name. Epithets de-personalize the subject if you use them incorrectly. If your narrator is thinking of their lover and describing that person without their name, then the trait they pick to focus on should be something equally important to them. In contrast, if you want to drive home how little a narrator thinks of somebody, using depersonalizing epithets helps sell that disrespect.

Fanfic tends to be the most egregious with soulless epithets like "the black-haired boy" that tell the reader absolutely nothing about how the narrator feels about that black-haired boy, espeically if they're doing so during a highly-emotional moment.

As in, NN and BF had one implied sex scene. Had I said “the other prisoner” that would have completely ruined the mood. He’s so much more than “the other prisoner” at that point in the story. “His partner,” since they were both a combat team and romantically involved, encompassed their entire relationship.

The epithet also changed depending on what mood or how hopeless NN saw their situation. He’d wax and wane over how close he believed them to be for Reasons. NN was a very reserved character who kept BF at a distance, afraid to go “all in” because he knew there was a high chance of BF not surviving this campaign. So NN never used “his lover”.

All to say, epithets carried the subtext of that flashback arc, when I had a character who would not talk about his feelings. I could show you the progression of their relationship through how the epithets changed.

I could show you whenever NN was being a big fat liar about his feelings when he said he's not in love, but his narration gave him away. I could show you the exact moment their relationship shifted from comrades to something more when NN switched mid-paragraph from "his cellmate" to "his partner" and when he took up BF's nickame exclusively in the same scene.

I do the same thing in Eternal Night when Elias, my protagonist, stops referring to Dorian as "it" and "the vampire" instead of his name the moment they collide with a much more dangerous vampire, so jarringly that Elias notices in his own narration—the point of it being so explicit is that this degredation isn't automatic, it's something he has to conciously do, when everyone else in his clan wouldn't think twice about dehumanizing them.

—

Any literary device should be used with intent if you want those layers in your work. The curtains are rarely just blue. Whether it’s a simile with a deliberate comparison or an epithet with deliberate connotations, your readers will pick up on the subtext, I promise.