#this isn't even half of it but you all didn't sign up for this

[malk1ns]

i read a fic recently with rookie sid and 2010 geno and i’ve been thinking of that a lot so… for your prompt maybe baby sid being enamored by an older geno? nsfw or pg is up to you :P merry christmas to you too btw!!

ok so once upon a time i wrote this fic which is pretty much exactly that premise! and i really loved writing it and it's still one of my personal favorites of mine, so i'm going to take your prompt and use it as an excuse to write a wee little follow-up, from sid's point of view...no smut or anything in this one, just a cranky 22 year old with a massive (reciprocated) crush on his captain. you'll have to read the first one for this to make sense!

Sid thought it would get easier when his dad retired.

Well, really, he expected that after a couple of months he wouldn't feel so desperate for Geno all the time. Not that he wouldn't still want him, of course not, Geno was the defining catalyst of Sid's sexual awakening and the star of 90% of his fantasies from adolescence onwards, but Sid thought that maybe after the first few times, when Geno didn't get sick of him or tell him they needed to stop, he'd be able to be a little more mature about the whole thing.

As it happens, though, he spent the rest of his rookie year in single-minded pursuit of two things: 100 points, and Geno's dick.

It's a good thing he had his dad's example to make sure he stayed focused on his game. If his work ethic and internal motivation weren't already firmly ingrained, Sid might have let his head be turned so far by getting what he wanted after so much time that he let his game slip.

Geno probably wouldn't have let that happen, though. He takes hockey more seriously than Sid does, even, and for as much time as they spent sneaking around to be together, Sid thinks they probably doubled that in extra ice time after practice, practicing one-timers and head-fakes and set plays to try out on the man advantage.

Sid's dad was always there too, is the thing. Sid lives at home still, his mom won't let him buy his own place until he signs his first real contract and isn't blowing an entire season's worth of income on a house, and Sid very quickly ran out of reasons to get his dad to head home early and let Geno drive him back. It made the time with Geno he managed to steal all the better.

Sid, maybe stupidly, thought that once his rookie year was over, when his dad officially retired and wasn't on the team anymore, he'd have a little more separation from his parents at the rink.

His dad barely stayed retired two months before his mom practically pushed him out the door directly into the goalie development role the Penguins offered him, though, and Sid's sophomore season starts the same way his rookie year did—sitting in the passenger seat of his Dad's truck, glaring out the window on the way to practice.

He must be making quite a face, because Geno's already there and half-changed into his gear when Sid walks into the locker room, and when he sees Sid's expression he does that thing with his jaw where he's trying not to laugh out loud.

Sid only scowls harder. Even Geno in his hockey pants and nothing else isn't enough to cheer him up.

It ends up turning out okay, though. Sid's mom stops asking so many questions about where he's going at night when his dad isn't around to give her the exact run-down of official team activities. Sid isn't sharing a hotel room on roadies anymore, so if he sneaks out after curfew and tiptoes down the hall to Geno's room, there's nobody to tattle, and no chance that he'll run into his dad out looking for the ice machine. And his dad gets so wrapped up in working with the goalies that they never finish practice at the same time, so if Sid makes some vague excuse about reviewing tape with the power play unit and he'll catch a ride, his dad waves him off without protest.

His schedule opens up, just like that. And Geno's more than happy to fill his time, tumbling Sid into bed and blowing his mind at every available opportunity. Their first California road trip, the one with built-in off-days for recreation, had been a revelation—after figuring out that yes, Geno really can eat someone out until they cry, Sid spent their beach day so distracted he was forced out of the volleyball game for bringing his team down.

There's a contract waiting for him on July 1, Sid knows. Pat hasn't sent him the details yet, but Sid knows it's good, something that will set him up for life pretty much, with signing bonuses to protect his earnings in case of another lockout and full trade protection as soon as he's eligible.

He's already talked to the realtor most of the guys use. She'd offered a few options in Cranberry, close to the practice facilities and where he grew up, but Sid told her he wants to get a little distance from his folks, somewhere he can set up his own house and not have his mom tempted to walk down the block and redecorate every other week.

And if the neighborhood he told her to focus on is Geno's, well, Sid's favorite breakfast place is there too, and he's always liked older parts of the city, with big trees and historic homes.

The fact that he could be within a ten-minute drive of Geno's house is just an extra perk.

[narcjsistx]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐄𝐖... | sae, kaiser, rin

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: you get mentioned in one of their interviews, and he's sooo in love with you <3

— sae itoshi

That Sae didn't like interviews was a well known thing, even the journalists were a little worried when they discovered they had to interview him: although he was a prodigy, a talent never seen in years and years of soccer, he was objectively a thorn in the side, acidic and lethal in words as he was with his shots in the penalty area. All the journalists who had dealt with the Japanese prodigy could say, with absolute certainty, that a slap or being fired was less annoying

And today was no exception. ReAl had just won a very important Spanish cup, but one that Sae didn't actually know much about. They simply told him to be himself, and so he did: the result was a landslide victory against the Venezuelan team, 7-1. The match had been over for less than half an hour and he had already been surrounded by journalists, whom he had pushed away with little courtesy as he headed towards the locker room. But one journalist had insisted more than the others, and with a sigh, the boy had dedicated 5 minutes of his time to him

"Exciting victory today, isn't it? Spain had been aiming for this cup for years but they only won it when you had a place in the team" says the journalist, microphone pointed towards Sae. A man, a little further away, held a video camera on his shoulder, pointed towards them. Sae nods, turning away when he swears he hears someone call out to him in a familiar voice. The reporter continues talking, but Sae pays no attention: that voice sounded so familiar

"So that's a yes?" the reporter says, the microphone still pointed towards him. Sae doesn't even know what question he asked him, but the mere fact that he's still here trying to get information out of him bothers him. "What?" he asks raising an eyebrow, and before the reporter even says it, Sae knows it's about you

“Your girlfriend isn't here today, which is strange considering she's always present at your games, even when they're out of town” the reporter says, probably repeating the words he asked him earlier. Sae isn't even surprised by the question, he already knows what he wants to ask him and mentally thanks himself for not answering with 'yes' at the previous question "Is this a sign that you've broken up? There have been rumors for a while that the feeling between you two is over-"

"No. We have not broken up and at the moment, and even in the future, the option is not in mind for either of us" says the boy without thinking for two seconds, taking the edge of the microphone with one hand, so that his words they arrive very straight. The journalist is surprised

Today, for the first time since you've been together, you couldn't come to his game. You actually haven't seen each other in a while, at least a month, and all the speculation that you had broken up had reached Sae's ears. Everything seemed to fit, the perfect breakup after years of a perfect relationship and a wedding ring on the line that Sae had offered you months ago. Everything seemed to coincide with the end of one of the most talked about relationships of the moment

But the reality is that simply, for university reasons, you had to move to Italy for a few months. Sae often came to you, but couldn't stay for whole days due to training... and so, for just over a month, you hadn't seen each other. If the truth wasn't known, you would actually look like a couple who hated each other by now

“Would you tell us more about all the evidence that has been circulating for over a month?” asks the journalist, and the boy already knows in his mind that the interview will not end well if this damned journalist continues to be so interested in something that does not concern him

Sae sighs. He knows that, from your temporary home in Italy, you are watching him. He knows well that every word he is saying you are listening to him. And it's time to make things clear once and for all,or he thinks he's going crazy

"Y/n and I haven't broken up, it's not on our minds and wedding preparations are currently underway. I hate when people seem so interested in something that actually has nothing to do with them, but I understand that it's your job and that's why I'm holding back from going harder on it" says Sae in one breath "My future wife and I don't have anything remotely negative in mind for our relationship, so if you would do me the favor of mentioning her only when there really is a reason, I would be happy" says Sae, and the journalist is suddenly understanding why all his colleagues had told him to stay away from the Japanese prodigy "So, if you really have questions for me about my performance today, I'll try to answer. Otherwise, bye" he says, handing the microphone back to the man, who takes it completely speechless

The camera shows him leaving, hiding the journalist who is still speechless. The camera zoom focuses on the background of Sae's phone, which appears for a few seconds when the boy takes the phone while heading towards the locker room. A photo of you and him cheek to cheek stands out, a small smile breaking across the boy's face as you laugh. With only this proof alone, literally everybody could definitively say that you didn't break up

— micheal kaiser

Micheal was now used to interviews. Since he had actually become someone, someone relegated to Germany's biggest soccer club, interviews had become an everyday thing, like brushing his teeth or kicking the ball as hard as he could during training. He was good looking, he had charisma, he was definitely one of the most pleasant to interview on his team. If the interviewer was a woman he would crack a few jokes, something to make things more interesting. It was objectively flirting with them, but since you had officially become his girlfriend, he had put a stop to these things, out of respect for you

The room was well furnished, he was sitting on a sofa placed in front of the large windows, which gave a view of the great metropolis of Hamburg. You were with him, sitting behind the cameras on a chair placed there at random. He had insisted to the producers that you appear next to him during the interview, but it wasn't possible. His nose was still a little crooked knowing that they got you that beat up chair by sheer luck. You were his empress, the respect they had for him they had to give to you too, and it hadn't happened

He knew that you didn't really care that much, but your respect was something that, at least in front of him, they couldn't miss. But making a fuss just for this didn't seem right at the moment, at most he would have done it after finishing the interview

A woman enters the room, probably only a few years older than him, in her thirties. She looked familiar, and he wasn't sure why he had a bad feeling. The woman approaches, sitting on one of the armchairs next to him. They could have changed your chair for that armchair, why hadn't they done it?

"It's a real pleasure for me to interview you again. It's been a long time since the first time!" the woman says smiling, and from there Micheal finally understands why he felt like he knew her: a few years ago, before he even met you, he did an interview with this woman. The video had gone viral not for the questions, but for the way it was obvious the two of them were flirting with each other. Not that Micheal was really interested, it was just a habit before he met you

Before he can even say anything, a producer announces the start of the interview. The woman smiles at the camera, giving a brief introduction before moving on to a few questions: they are all things related to soccer, Bastard Munchen and the next match against Italy, which will take place in a few weeks. Micheal relaxes his nerves a little to see that nothing has to do with his private life, and turns around to see you from time to time. You smile softly at him, nodding as a sign that he's going well, really everything is going well

But Kaiser relaxed too soon, unfortunately. "Sooo, the internet world has been wondering this for a while... and now seems like the right opportunity to ask it! We're done with soccer questions anyway, right?" the woman says, chuckling, placing a stack of notes on a nearby table, picking up another. Kaiser tilts his head, and for a moment, he thinks these are the usual questions related to his relationship. Nothing new

"Our first interview was four years ago, when you weren't even dating yet. The internet world wondered for a long time if we were together!" the woman says, with a look that Kaiser recognizes: hoe. He turns to you and for a moment he reads some confusion on your face "The interview went so viral that everyone really thought it was a way to reveal our relationship to the world. But it didn't go that way, unfortunately" says the woman

If he wasn't live nationally and if the interviewer wasn't a woman, he would have already crushed her face with his fist. With what logic does she talk about something like that in front of you, his girlfriend? Where's the fucking respect they're supposed to give you but are lacking in every possible way? Everything is going wrong

“It sure would have been a fun thing to do and-” the woman says speaking casually, but the guy interrupts her “Schatz, could you come over here for a sec?” Kaiser says, shifting his attention solely to you, who finds yourself perplexed for a moment. He's breaking every rule possible, but he doesn't care. If he wants you next to him on national live broadcast, the producers will make you stand next to him on national live broadcast

You get up from the chair a little scared, walking among the producers who mentally and not curse Kaiser. You pass the woman who, with an annoyed look, stares at you. With slightly shaky legs you sit next to Micheal, who immediately grabs you putting his arm around your shoulders, pushing your hip against his. You try to smile as best you can in front of the camera, which records everything. Kaiser squeezes your shoulder slightly, and then turns his face back towards the camera "I don't rule out that that interview made me go viral everywhere for months and months, increasing my fame" says the boy "But my behavior was a bit wrong at the time, I was definitely giving attention to people who shouldn't have been..." says Micheal, and while you try to hold back a laugh, the interviewer opens her paralyzed mouth

Kaiser chuckles at the situation, then continues "The attention that I used to give to random people is now received by her, who deserves it all. The mere fact that she accompanies me everywhere is a valid reason to love her, right?" the boy says, squeezing your shoulder again, and you smile in love "She is simply better. It's not even a competition, because she would win before even starting. Maybe if my girlfriend had been the interviewer that time I would say differently now! Maybe I would have already married her, who knows" Kaiser says, and you tilt your head against his shoulder, leaning on him like you always do. You're so damn in love with him

If the producers and interviewer failed to give you respect behind the scenes and also with annoyance, Kaiser will make sure to prove your worth in front of the whole Germany

— itoshi rin

If there was one thing that distinguished Rin from his teammates, it was the ability to turn each of his interviews into a future edit that would become popular on all social media. He was famous, damn famous, every scene of his was edited by millions of people every day. His interviews, for his fans, were the best opportunity to make scenes about him

And since you had been dating, for a few years now, you had suffered more or less the same treatment as Rin. You often appeared in his interviews, you were loved by his fan base, and the edits about you that went as viral as those of your beloved boyfriend

"...the Australian defense this time had to face a much better prepared Japan than last match" says the interviewer, the microphone held out towards Rin. A match has just ended, obviously won by Japan: Rin is still sweaty, his legs slightly weak from running for practically the entire duration of the match. But he's not sick, he's simply tired and he just wants to kiss you

Of course you came to his game, taking a seat in the VIP section of the players' families. It's a habit that, as soon as the match is over, he comes to the VIP section to kiss you, but this time he couldn't: the journalists completely captured him, making it impossible to even move a few meters

"Yes. We decided to change the defense to prepare for Australia's top scorer, who couldn't do anything this time compared to previous matches" Rin replies disinterestedly, looking for you. There are just so many people, so many players or interviewers, but where the hell are you? Didn't something happen to you?

"It must also be said that Japan no longer has any problems in terms of strikers since you joined as an honorary member of the team" says the interviewer, and Rin nods without actually thinking much about what they told him. He just has a strange feeling, he doesn't understand why he isn't seeing you when it's never been difficult for him to find you in a crowd of people

"Any projects in mind at the moment? On a soccer level or on a personal level?" the interviewer asks, but Rin stops hearing him when, a few meters away from him, he sees you: you're a little lost, your gaze curious while you were probably looking for him too. It makes him somewhat tender to see you like this, but he is happy to know that all his doubts about whether something had happened to you are false

"Mr. Itoshi?" the man asks, but Rin takes a few steps forward, not enough to disappear from the camera lens, to signal to you that he's there. It doesn't take you long to notice, running like a little girl in his direction, hugging him as you wrap your arms around his neck, while he places his hands on your hips. "I couldn't find you!" you say laughing, holding onto your boyfriend who holds you close to him "It's the journalists' fault" Rin whispers, leaving a kiss on your cheek before remembering that he's in the middle of an interview. He turns just enough to see that the camera is now perfectly directed towards you, immortalizing the romantic moment between Japan's number one striker and his beautiful girlfriend. The edits will be crazy this time

You notice that the camera is pointed towards you, and a little embarrassed you try to smile without revealing the hint of discomfort "I'll be back later?" you say to your boyfriend, who before you can even finish the sentence, shakes his head as he grabs your wrist "No. You're coming too" he says walking back towards the station, squeezing your wrist affectionately. You follow him, a little embarrassed but it wasn't the first time it happened, so you had gotten used to it

Rin returns to his seat, his arm around your waist ignoring the fact that he almost slipped out of an interview. You stand next to him, your arm behind his back, smiling at the man who now knows both of them "Were you saying?" Rin asks, returning to the interview questions

"Oh, yeah yeah... any projects in mind at the moment? On a soccer level or on a personal level?" the interviewer asks again

Rin thinks about it for a moment. The plans are actually there. He must still become the best of the best, climb to the top and lead Japan to be the strongest team in the world. It simply has yet to break some of its limitations

But there are also other projects. He has to decide when to use that ring he bought more than a few months ago. He must understand when to kneel down and definitely ask you to become Miss Itoshi, his wife. These are mainly his most important projects at the moment

"I still have a lot to do, Japan has to become the most important and strongest team in the world, and maybe I will take on the role of team captain. On a personal level though... I don't know, I just want to continue what I already doing for a while… making her happy every day” Rin says, and you can swear you feel your heart explode

Your boyfriend isn't a big talker, you knew this even before we got together. But the facts speak, and he is doing exactly what he says: every day he makes you happy, and you couldn't be more grateful. His words may seem like nothing, but they mean a lot to you. You simply love him. The interviewer smiles. You turn to Rin and he leans down slightly to kiss you on the nose, making you giggle while the cameras film you

Maybe Rin could use that ring tonight, maybe?

[fluffylino]

pussy agenda with hyunjin

-contains mature themes

he can't keep his hands to himself.

doesn't really have to be sexual. but likes to shove his hand down your pants to cup your mound with his hand.

it could be at any time of the day.

regardless of whether you were sitting on the couch. or standing in the kitchen. or doing anything really.

you've gotten so used to it, it doesn't even bother you.

its so casual.

like you'd be telling him about how you read some weirdly interesting article. and he'd lazily walk over to you. listening and acknowledging everything you said.

but his hand had a mind of its own. slipping in your pants, to feel your warm cunt. middle finger running along your slit. before he takes his hand out and continues talking.

there are days when he'll purposely tease you. digging his fingers just a bit in. a small smile on his face when he feels you throb. making you make a startled noise. leaving you wet and swollen.

especially after he gets home from practice. hooking his chin on your shoulder. his left hand kneading your boob and his right hand in your pants.

.

shaving as well.

once, you had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. not like you even had to. the two of you were more than comfortable.

neck aching as you made sure you didn't miss any spots. your leg raised up on the sink counter. razor still in your hand while you shaved.

you had finished with your legs and arms. and now, (as hyunjin would say) your most delicate part remained.

you groaned. jumping a bit as your eyes met with a nonchalant hyunjin. who was leaning against the door frame, hand still resting on the door knob.

"need help?"

your cheeks flushing at his outrageous question. not to mention you were half naked. you needed help. and you trusted him. but it was more because your legs ached.

"i'll help you shave" he admitted, walking in. closing the door behind him.

and he indeed did.

"you don't need to shave by the way" he reassured.

"i'd eat your precious cunt regardless" such a casual statement to make. while keeping your legs open.

"careful" you mumbled, eyes cast down to where he was kneeling down. spreading your pussy lips apart.

as if he was inspecting your folds. gentle with each stroke of the razor.

"i know. baby's delicate pussy is very sensitive" hyunjin muttered, biting his lip as he concentrated on the task at hand. eyes fixed on your pussy. it made you feel very...exposed and maybe a bit turned on. his warm breath making you feel even hotter.

and after he's done.

he kisses it. working his way up.

"gonna have my fun with you later"  pressing his cushioney lips to your freshly shaven pussy. it was almost like he was letting your pussy know well in advance.

and pulling away with accomplishment written all over his face.

cause now you were getting wet.

.

or if he's driving. (like in the recent skz code). he'd be holding the steering wheel with his left hand. his right hand intertwined with yours.

slowly getting carried away.

till his fingers are teasing your slit. rubbing against it and pressing the pads of his index into your pussy. and pulling out. and doing it all over again.

never actually pushing all the way in.

keeping his finger pressed between your folds. almost like he's having his own fun while you're squirming and closing your legs around his hand.

he's focused on driving, reading the sign boards. even asking you if you're hungry. acting normal as though his hand isn't shoved down your panties. but as i mentioned. his fingers are on auto pilot.

in conclusion,

hyunjin would do anything for your pussy. even if that includes fleeting touches.

.

.

.

.

did you like it ehe.......

[gayhoediaz]

"I - I'm sorry for showing up at your station in the middle of the night, I - I should have called, but I knew you had a shift, and I-"

"Didn't want to do this over the phone," Tommy guesses gently, watching as Evan nods, face flickering with recognition.

"...or in a text or something, yeah," he confirms - then he clears his throat, frowning at the ground for a moment. "Look, I - I know that - that maybe I should just... walk away, and - and take no for an answer, and I - I will," he says, and when their eyes meet again, Evan's are glossy with emotion - even from ten feet away. "I promise."

Tommy crosses his arms over his chest, exhaling gently as he waits for Evan to gather his thoughts.

"I know I fucked up by going all... bro-dude on you on our first date," he says, trailing off with a self-deprecating, sad chuckle. Tommy swallows, forcing his feet to stay glued to the concrete flooring. "And you don't wanna deal with that, I get it, I know that you probably didn't sign up for... all of this," he continues - and somehow Tommy has a sinking feeling that he's not only referring to his newly discovered bisexuality. "Didn't sign up for someone who is just... so new at this-"

"-that's not it," Tommy can't help but interrupt - the same way he can't help but take one step closer - and then one more. "Evan, I don't have a problem with being the first man you're with, it just seemed as if you weren't sure that you wanted a man at all, and that's the thing that I'm not sure that I-"

"I - I know that," Evan interrupts him right back, his voice growing thicker, tears seemingly dangerously close to passing his waterline as he takes half a step closer to Tommy, his hands in front of him, frustratingly grasping the air as if the words he wants to say will be somewhere in there. "That's what I came here to say - look, my entire life, I've just been... searching for something, you know? Something that felt right, someplace where I could... belong," he says, forehead decorated with a deep line of frustration. "And then I found it."

"Firefighting," Tommy guesses - and the crease evens out - just a little bit - as the corner of Evan's mouth twitches up.

"Yeah," he nods. "Yeah - and I thought that was it. And - and then I realized that I still felt... wrong? And I - I felt stupid, you know?" he says, tapping the pads of his index and middle finger to his own temple. "'Cause I have a job that I love, people that I love - and I spent so long trying to find the thing that was missing, and I just - I - I had no idea what it was..." he says - and then he straightens up a little bit, swallowing. "...and then you kissed me," he concludes.

Tommy feels himself melt.

This goddamn kid is going to be the death of him, isn't he?

"...and it was like..." Evan brings his hands up in front of himself again, mimicking something like an explosion - but the sound effect he chooses isn't an explosion. It's a sharp, unmistakable, loud exhale.

"That was it," Tommy hums, allowing himself a few steps closer. Evan's eyes remain on his own as he moves, trailing him every single step of the way.

"That was it," Evan confirms. "So if you think that I - that I'm somehow gonna - gonna change my mind, or - or run away, or freak out, or decide that I don't like men, that's never gonna happen," he shakes his head. "I'm - I'm a lot, I know that, I've always been a lot, I don't think I totally know how to be anything different, but Tommy, I am... I'm very, very bi. I like men. And I like y-"

Tommy finds a gentle grasp on his chin, guiding him into a kiss.

Shut up, is what the kiss says. You have me. I'm yours. I got you.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Center of Attention

Dark! Geto Suguru x reader x Dark! Gojo Satoru

5.6k wc

Synopsis: Your boyfriend cheats on you with his best friend

(Warnings: rape/noncon, cheating, infidelity, forced relationships, piv sex, oral sex, afab reader)

In the beginning, things with Suguru were great. 

He was nice, considerate, sweet. Down to earth, honest. You'd only been official for a few months, but it felt real. Like it could last forever. 

And then, he introduced you to Satoru. 

It started from there. You hated everything about that man. He came from money and drove in loud, fancy cars. He was vapid and insulting. The way he behaved with you was just as disgusting. Calling you pet names like 'princess' and 'baby'. Touching your waist, your arm, your ass. Suguru once said they shared everything together. You were starting to wonder if Satoru thought you were on the table as well. 

It started a lot of arguments between you and Suguru. He'd always defend his childhood friend, barely even listening to your protests. It's just his nature, he doesn't do it on purpose, he does it with everyone. With how defensive he was about his best friend, you should have known. You should have seen the signs. 

Maybe then you would have been less surprised when you walked in on the two making out. 

You'd left Suguru's house after the last fight you had with him, once again about Satoru. You were halfway home when something like guilt spread across your body. Doubt. Maybe you were being too harsh on them. They were childhood friends. They'd always have a connection you just wouldn't be able to understand. 

You had come back with a bag of take out-an apology- on your wrists. You didn't think anything of it when the front door was unlocked, Suguru's clothes on the ground. 

They were on the couch, half-naked. Satoru was pressing his precious best friend further into the cushion. Suguru's hand was in his white hair, aggressively pulling. You could feel your heart breaking with every second. Every breath you took. 

"Suguru...?" They froze. 

It was your fault. You should have been faster. 

The food you'd brought drops to the floor as you turn, ready to bolt out the door, run to your car, drive far far away and just forget this shitty night. Satoru is faster. His slender hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back. 

"Wait. Just wait," he begs, his voice uncharacteristically desperate. Given any other situation, you would have laughed, but the tears were already streaming down your face. You can only stare at the empty couch, where those two had just been. Where you can see your cotton pink panties. 

God, this is all one sick joke, isn't it?

Suguru calls your name, but you don't bother to look. Satoru's grip is strong, and you're forced to wither just a foot away from the two of them. You feel everything. Humiliation. Heartbreak. Anger. 

You slap away the hand that tries to cup your cheek. It's all it takes to snap you back.

"Don't touch me." Through your tears, you try to wrestle your way out of Satoru's grip. 

"Let me go," you demand, your throat threatening to close, "Satoru let-let me fucking go—" 

"Not until you let us explain," Suguru begs. By now, Satoru had cornered you against the wall, and you feel yourself crying even harder because you don't want an explanation, you know what you fucking saw. 

"Jesus Christ-what could you possibly say that can-that can explain anything!" Your voice is too shrill, too high, too emotional, you need to bring yourself down but you just can't. It's so much. You need to leave.

"Satoru and I love each other." 

Your voice halts in your chest as you look up. Suguru's eyes are somber as he gazes at you. You want to stop yourself from examining him. The unruffled clothes, the dark hickeys on his neck. For some reason, the evidence breaks you more than the action. 

"We always have," he continues like he's talking about the weather. He was always the logical one, "Ever since we were teenagers." 

"Great," you respond, voice too damp to signify any real sarcasm, "how touching. Then just—" 

"—But it wasn't enough," Satoru rushes in, quick to cut you off. "We—we weren't complete. Like we would never have the right time....and then we met you." 

You don't like adoration in his eyes, like he wasn't just about to fuck your now ex-boyfriend. Disgust fills your stomach as you continue to glare at him. You hate him. You hate them both. 

"The first time Suguru brought you home, I knew you were the one for us," Satoru says. "You-you're our missing puzzle piece—what we've been looking for our entire life." He's good with words. He's a little like Suguru, in that sense. Maybe they do deserve each other. 

You can only stare at him, and then your eyes shift to Suguru. He has the same expression, though a little less obvious. Despite how much your heart hurts, a disbelieved laugh chokes out of your throat. 

"...that's your excuse?" you whisper, "you wanted a fucking threesome?" 

"It's not an excuse." Suguru steps forward, now they both are fully trapping you. His voice is soaking with emotion, almost like he was about to start crying. 

"It's the truth. I love you. We love you, and we want you to be with us." 

You couldn't believe them. You couldn't fucking believe them. It was all too much. The argument, the kiss. This, them cornering you and claiming that they love you. It was the first time Suguru had told you that he loved you. You thought you would have been happy to hear those words come from his mouth, given enough time together. 

Now, it just feels like another nail in the coffin. 

You look down, looking at the spilled food. You'd brought curry. It was currently all over the bare floor, leaking into cracks. Good. You hoped when you left and cried your heart out, Suguru would be here, cleaning up your mess. You wouldn't be able to hurt him as badly as he did you, but at least you'd be able to make him miserable. 

"I want to go home," you finally say. You pull at Satoru's hand. He doesn't budge. "I want to leave. Let me leave." 

He doesn't reply. His grip gets tighter, almost crushing. You stumble when he pulls you forward, nearly crashing into his chest. When you look up, he looks....wrong. Off, in some way. 

"You can't." His sunglasses are off. You can see his eyes. They're too wide, too manic. It scares you. "We—we just told you that we loved you. I love you. You—you can't just leave me—" 

“Let go, Satoru.” 

Satoru stops rambling, looking over at the other man. Suguru steps even closer. His hand reaches up, touching your hair. You don’t slap him away again, but you flinch. His frown deepens. You hate the look of hurt in his eyes, like he’s the victim here, like he spent months with someone who was just stringing them along. 

“You need time,” Suguru says, more to himself than you, “we get that. We’ll give you time. And then, you can come back to us.” You should snap at the blistering hope in his voice, but you don't. You grit your teeth, holding everything in until you're finally away from them. 

He steps back. Satoru doesn’t. His teeth mash together, jaw clenching like he wants to argue. Fight. 

Suguru’s eyes darken. “Let go, Satoru.” 

Slowly, you can feel his grip on your wrist loosen. You react, stumbling back, hands desperately gripping on the door. You can feel their eyes on you the entire time. 

You can give yourself credit, however. You don’t break into sobs until you get into your car. 

Two months later, and you still refuse to see them. 

It's not like they haven't tried to get in touch, much to your disdain. They called and texted and spammed until you blocked them. Then, you blocked them on social media. At work, you ask the secretary to start dumping the bouquets instead of sending them up to you. And you have to tell your mutual friends to stop trying to act like the middle-man. 

You can't do anything about the letters or the gifts left at your door every other day. Ignoring the full mailbox becomes customary, and you start passing off the chocolates to your neighbors and friends. 

"Can't you get them to stop?" You ask Shoko as she rummages through another gift basket they had sent, "seriously, I'm close to snapping here." 

"Oh, this looks expensive." She eyes the wine bottle. When you give her a look, she sighs. 

"You know I can't do that. Whenever they get obsessed, they don't take no for an answer. Maybe that's why they have such a great relationship." You wilt at that. 

"Did you know?" 

Her fingers twitch in a way that makes you know she's craving a cigarette. 

"I mean, I knew they had a thing for each other back in high school, but I thought it faded." You sink your face further into your hands. "Trust me, I wasn't in on whatever bullshit they did to you." 

Her fingers reach over to squeeze your thigh, a way of apologizing. You give her a timid smile, before ultimately sighing again. Her hands move to your back. You feel the urge to cry in her chest again, but you've been doing that for days now.

"Just keep doing what you're doing. Ignore them, and hopefully, those assholes will focus on something else." Shoko suggests. She shifts closer. You can smell her perfume. 

You nod. "Yeah, hopefully." 

Eventually, the gifts start to dwindle. The flowers stop coming, the gift baskets get more and more sporadic. Two months later, everything stops, and you're nearly crying in relief. By now, you're mostly over whatever you had with Suguru. You two hadn't been together for very long. Now that you think about it, the whole situation was more embarrassing than anything else. And the fact they both had the audacity to lovebomb you too? Humiliating. All you want to do is never see him again. Him or Satoru. In your eyes, they can both just fall off the face of the Earth and you'd be all the more happier for it. 

The date was nice. Cute, was the word you'd use. A nice dinner and peaceful conversation. And he wasn't that bad to look at. A nice smile. Dimples, you noted when he laughed at something you'd said. 

"I'd like to see you again." He said, right before you let yourself out of the car. 

You glanced back at him. And you stay there when he leans closer. The kiss was nice, too. 

You're giddy the entire short walk to your apartment. It fades just when you reach the door. 

Their arms are crossed, and it strangely feels like you're coming home to two disapproving parents. Satoru is leaning against a wall, sunglasses tucked underneath his collar. Suguru holds something in his hands—another bouquet. 

Your excitement fades, but secretly, you're relieved. You don't feel the remnants of your heart shattering the more you look at them. You feel....nothing. 

Nothing but the slight irritation that they were blocking your door. 

"Welcome back." Suguru starts, but Satoru is much less tactful. 

"Who was that?" He demands, but the car has already left. Thank god you would want to bring a man you'd barely met into your drama. 

None of your business, you want to snap, but it's too late for either of their bullshit. 

"No one," you say and their glowers only grow that more intense. 

"Can this wait until tomorrow?" you finally ask, "I'm exhausted." Satoru seems to get even more pissed at your comment, but Suguru steps in. 

"You haven't been answering my calls," Suguru starts, "and you haven't accepted any of our gifts. We're just worried about you." 

That's rich, coming from him. You can't help but let your irritation control you, at least for a little while. Just because you were over him, doesn't mean you were fine with what he did. 

"Sorry, but you lost the privilege to 'worry about me' when you started sucking your boyfriend's dick," you mention to Satoru, who stiffens, "Speaking off, was he the mistress here, or was I? How long had you two been doing it behind my back, anyway? Or is it technically not considered cheating because you said 'no homo' before making out." 

"I'm sorry," Suguru says, and to his credit, he sounds remorseful, "there's not a single day that goes by where I'm not regretful at how you found out." 

"Oh my God, absolutely not. You don't get to apologize to me to clear your conscience." You're hissing. "What? Do you expect me to give you and Satoru my blessings or something? Fuck off before I start throwing my shoes at you." 

"Would that make you feel better?" Satoru cuts in. "You can hurt us if you want to, baby. What—what do you want us to do?" He steps forward. You step back. "We can get on our knees, and you can punch us. Hit us. Wanna smash beer bottles on our faces? Anything, baby. We want you to forgive us." 

His sincerity takes you off guard. His eyes were wide. He was serious about what he just said. For a moment, you felt bad for Suguru. He was stuck with that. And then you processed Satoru's words. 

"Forgiveness?" You spit out. "You have to be fucking with me because there's no way in hell I'd ever forgive you. Do you know the worst part about this entire shitshow, Suguru? It wasn't the fact that you broke my heart, it was that everyone except me knew that my boyfriend was sucking his best friend's dick. Do you know how humiliating that was? Of course you didn't because you two were so busy thinking about each other that you didn't even think how it would affect me." 

By the time you were done, you were panting. You bit your lip, forcing the hint of tears back because if you broke, it would negate everything you had just said. Despite the tremor in your voice, it felt good to yell at them finally. The look on their faces made the cake that much sweeter. 

"Now, fuck off," your voice was quieter, almost hoarse, "leave me alone." 

They don't stop you when you reach your door. You can barely stop your hands from shaking, and you know you won't be able to hold yourself together for much longer. The door unlocks with a click. 

And then you're stumbling through your home with an added weight on your back. 

You almost fall into the carpet, quick to balance yourself and whirl around. They're already inside. Suguru is shaking his head while Satoru fiddles with the door. 

"Satoru—" Suguru starts. 

"Enough." He hisses. "We've tried doing it your way, and look where it got us. My way, now." The lock clicks into place. 

Suguru looks like he wants to disagree, but he holds himself back. He frowns, glancing over to you. 

"You're right," he says, "maybe actions are better than words." 

Something like fear pushes its way into your throat, but you're waving it away. You immediately reject the sudden increased thumping in your heart. This is Satoru and Suguru. Assholes. They are selfish bastards who care about nothing but themselves. But they wouldn't hurt you. They wouldn't do that to you. 

Right? 

You're certain of it. You know it, yet your voice falters the first time you try to speak up. 

"...What are you doing?" 

You can't keep the anger. It's gone, as much as you try to pull it back inside your chest, keeping it there. Instead of hot, you just feel cold. 

You don't like the way they're slowly inching towards you, like you're a scared feral animal—like they're hunters itching for a taste. 

Despite your clear discomfort, Satoru still has the audacity to smile. Not his usual grin, filled with unabashed confidence, this one is warmer. Nicer.

You think it makes what he's doing worse.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he sounds like he's begging, voice low, simpering, "I never wanted to hurt you. I promise." 

"What are you doing?" You demand again, but your voice wavers even more. 

"I get it. I get why you're so upset with us. You just felt left out, right?" Satoru's saying, and you should be getting angry at his words, but the way he isn't stopping is getting more and more concerning and something is wrong, they aren't leaving, why aren't they leaving?

"Just let us show you how sorry we are, how much we care," Suguru says, "Everything. All for you. I promise." 

"Get out," you're whispering, and it hope it has more bite than you can possibly give, "just get out. Leave me alone—" 

Satoru grabs you. You manage to scream before his lips crush into yours. The kiss isn't anything the way Suguru used to kiss you. Gentle, soft, giving, never taking. Satoru was all strength. The strongest. He pulled, and nipped, and bit until it wasn't even a kiss. It was just you being devoured by him. 

You push away (he lets you), but before you can suck in a breath, Suguru's there, grabbing the back of your neck. The kiss is less painful, but just as searing. Especially considering you've kissed him before, back when things were innocent, much less twisted. 

"See, Suguru?" Satoru whispers when the dark-haired man pulls away. "So much quieter, now. You just wanted all our attention, right baby?" 

You can't speak, not when you can barely breathe. You're pushing again, struggling to get out of their hold, but you are nothing against Satoru. You are nothing against Suguru. 

What are you when it's both of them at once? 

You mumble about a quiet 'get the fuck out'. It's too shaky to be anything intimidating. They both have the audacity to laugh in a way that makes you feel like a tiny kitten clawing at their owner's hands, desperate not to sink into the warm, soapy water. 

It's easy to manhandle you onto the couch, Suguru keeping you nice and pliant as Satoru fiddles with your pants. Suguru hushes you, like you were just playing around. Playing hard to get. Like the sobs and the tears and the tearful begs aren't enough to prove anything coherent. 

"Stop," you say anyway because there's a chance, there's always a chance, "Suguru—Satoru stop. What—what are you doing? Please just—" 

Suguru bites your neck, making you yelp. He apologizes with a warm tongue, ignoring you and glaring down at his companion. 

"Hurry up." It sounds impatient. "You wanted a taste, right?" 

Satoru clicks his tongue and they're both ignoring you, as if your opinion, your struggles, your screams is just background noise, nothing truly important. Your pants are already down at your legs, preventing you from kicking. Satoru's large hands squeeze at the fat of your thighs, and you jump as his cold hands brush over your sensitive skin. 

Your voice is muffled by Suguru's lips once again. The man moans into your mouth, loud and lewd. 

"I'm savoring this," Satoru says while you're distracted.

He pushes two fingers into your clothed cunt, shuddering at the touch. "You touched this pussy all the time. Can't say the same. Cut me some slack, man." 

Suguru reluctantly pulls away, leaving you panted and slightly breathless. He says something to Satoru, chiding. Satoru bickers back. You can only come back when you dazedly look down just in time to see Satoru push your panties to the side and attach his mouth to your pussy. 

You're not wet. How could you be? Satoru remedies that, eagerly licking until your hole is covered by his saliva. Your recent inactivity doesn't help either. You hadn't done anything, not since Suguru. Your body is starved for attention, something Satoru is readily giving. You become wet and needy in no time. 

Not one to be ignored, Suguru pulls your shirt over your head, abandoning it somewhere behind the couch. Your arms are useless, barely catching onto his wrist before he's forcing you away. Suguru's head dips down, running his tongue over the skin at your breasts, eager for a taste. He bites at one of your nipples, groaning when your hands reach up to wildly tug at his hair. Your actions seem only to excite him further as he squeezes your other breast, digging his fingers into your soft flesh. 

On the floor, Satoru is having more than enough of his fill. You aren't prepared to feel the long finger prodding your hole before easing its way inside your tight pussy. You give a faltering whimper, arching your back. Suguru pulls away from your chest with a pop. 

You're sobbing now. It doesn't prove anything, considering each sob is interrupted by a reluctant moan. Suguru leans up to kiss you. You squeeze your eyes, turning away. His lips brush your cheek. He chuckles at your act of defiance. 

"So cute," he says against your skin. Butterfly kisses across your cheek, your neck. "I missed this. I missed you." 

The words hurt, cut into your skin, enough to make you bleed. You cry harder. They are kind enough to let you. 

"Did you miss me too?" Suguru asks. When you give no answer, he laughs affectionately. 

He's unbuckling his belt as he traces more kisses across your skin. Suguru pushes away the hem of his pants, untucking his cock. You can feel its length press against your side. 

Below you, Satoru grabs you by the hips, adjusting you further down the couch until the new angle makes his fingers hit something deep inside of you. You gasp, eyes flying open. 

"Look at him," Suguru says, taking your chin, pointing your gaze down, "Isn't he so pretty?" 

Blue eyes stare back up at you, clouded with lust and need. You can't help but stare back through your tears. You've never noticed how beautiful Satoru's eyes were. They were always covered, obscured by his glasses. They're so pretty. Like oceans, merged with a starry sky. They're so beautiful. He's so beautiful. How could someone so beautiful do this to you?

"He wanted to do this for so long," Suguru murmurs into your ear, "would not shut up about eating you out, making you cum down his throat. Sit on his face until he passes out." 

Satoru says something, it sounds irritated, muffled by the slick sounds of your pussy. In response, Suguru grabs the back of his head, shoving him deeper between your thighs, keeping him there. You jolt at the sudden intimacy, another whine melting out your throat. Satoru seems to forget whatever he was saying, going back to worshipping your battered pussy.  

"If we're lucky, he'll suffocate down there," Suguru says with no real heat in his voice, "though I think he might like that idea." 

His voice is heavy, like he'd been running. Suguru grabs your hand, enveloping it in his own. The same hand that was touching his throbbing cock. When you try to jolt away, he doesn't let you, trapping your fingers underneath his own. 

"C'mon baby." He says through gritted teeth. You squeeze your eyes again, turning away into your shoulder. Suguru doesn't let you run away, not this time. He's quick to make himself known, scrapping his teeth against your neck. He moves yours and his hands up and down his leaking cock. 

"There we go." He sounds relieved. "That's it. So so good for me." 

You let him. You let them. You lie there like a doll, letting them maneuver you as they wish. Satoru's the loudest, moaning against your pussy, sucking on your clit. Suguru is more refined, shuddering into the crook of your neck as he forces you to grip his cock tighter and tighter. 

"Stop." It's nothing more than a pleading whimper. "Please please stop." 

Suguru kisses you again, sloppy and messy, just as Satoru sucks on your clit, hard enough to make you see white. You come right on his tongue and fingers, riding out your high. Against your will, your back arches, rising off the couch with a high-pitched keen. Your thighs squeeze around his head, threatening to crush his skull. He's more than happy to let you. 

Suguru follows right after, you can feel his cum coat your hand. Sticky, making you feel even more disgusted with yourself than you already were. 

You slump into the couch just as Satoru pulls away. Suguru tucks you into your chest, but you don't care enough to struggle. You can only watch as Satoru rises from his place on the floor, locking eyes with Suguru. 

"So?" Suguru asks, still panting, but there's a smile in his voice, "How was it?" 

There's something carnivorous in Satoru's eyes before he lunges. He aggressively kisses Suguru, and the latter returns the affection just as potently. Numbly, you realize that they were softer kissing you. They were holding back. Now, they go together like wild dogs, teeth clashing together. When they part, Satoru's lips are bleeding. 

Satoru turns his gaze on you. You avert your eyes, not wanting to bait the unpredictable animal. Luckily, his earlier inhibitions had been sated by the kiss. He falls on top of you two, burying his head into the crook of your neck, where Suguru has turned your skin into a patchwork of hickeys. 

"Fuck baby," he sighs into your skin, "you're an addiction, y'know that?" 

You focus on breathing. In and out, filling your lungs with much-needed oxygen. It works to keep you from processing the absolute awe in Satoru's voice. The sincerity. The adoration. So so much worse had he just been mocking. The way he usually was. 

But it was over now. It can't be anything more. You'd go insane if it were anything more-- 

"Now, I don't think it's fair anymore," Suguru's sighing into your ear, "you had a taste, right? Let me have a turn now." 

He's about to stand, but Satoru's placing a large hand on his chest, forcing him back on the couch. 

"Sit the fuck down." He spits out in irritation. "You're so greedy, y'know that? I'm fucking this pussy first, just like we agreed on." 

You can feel your breath hitch at that. The way they just stripped you down of your humanity. Like you were a toy, two toddlers were fighting over. It was horrifying. You can feel nausea build up in your throat. 

Suguru notices your distress first. He sighs, nuzzling his face into your cheek. 

"Okay okay, I yield," he relents, "don't start throwing a tantrum just because you don't get your way. Today is supposed to be about someone else, remember?" 

Satoru huffs, but he calms down significantly. He pulls away, you can feel his hands trail again your chest, like he's eager to put his mouth on something else, before he's stopping himself. 

By now, your fight has been sucessfully withered out by these two men. As though you ever had a chance, even in the beginning. Even if Suguru's threatening grip hadn't been present, even if the crazed look in Satoru's eyes wouldn't have manifested through his touch, this result would have always happened. 

Even then, you still squeeze your eyes shut when you hear the clanking of his belt. Your eyes sting again, and you tuck your face into the comfort of the fluffy cushions. 

Your thighs are clamped shut. Satoru easily plies them apart, sliding his way between your legs. Something hot and blunt lightly brushes against your entrance before he eases his cock into your pussy with one smooth motion. 

Despite the previous orgasm, it's not enough to obscure the pain. He's too long, and you're certain you could feel him right to your stomach. He curses a stuttered moan. 

It's useless, but you're reaching up anyway. Nails close to his face. Maybe your true goal is for his two beautiful eyes, ripping them apart, eager to see blue turn into red.

You don't get the chance to find out for yourself. Suguru's stopping you, restricting your body with his own. There's a punishing bite right on your neck. You yelp. Suguru grins through the blood. 

"Be good." He chastises. "Behave. We aren't hurting you, right? We're making you feel good." 

He's wrong. They have hurt you. They are hurting you. You feel it in your neck, the aching bruises, your battered cunt. It's everywhere. 

It hurts even more when Satoru doesn't even give you time to adjust. He's blabbering something; you can't hear through the blood between your ears as he collapses into your chest. The position is awkward, considering Suguru is still sucking on your neck, but never mind. They don't care if they suffocate you. 

The rhythm is rough and deep. He pushes his cock as deep as it can go inside of you, stretching your walls before he pulls back, only to restart the terrible cycle all over again. It's horrible. Excruciating, despite how slick your pussy is. Despite it all, you can't help but compare how differently Suguru and Satoru fucked you. 

Suguru's cock was thicker but wasn't as long. He was nicer, slow, only going when he knew you could take it. But back then, you didn't know Suguru's true intentions. You weren't aware of his sadism, the eagerness to rip you apart. Perhaps he was even worse than Satoru was. 

"Doesn't this feel good?" Suguru asks suddenly. His soft lips brush your cheek when you bury your face deeper into your couch. At least this time, he wasn't forcing you to face your unwanted assault head-on. You suppose you should feel grateful. 

But he's right. You hate that he's right. You get used to Satoru's rhythm eventually. When his cock brushes against something deep inside of you, you jolt around his dick, unable to stop yourself from squeezing your walls. Satoru hisses at that, but he barely falters. 

"Fuck fuck fuck," he's hissing, "squeezin' me so tight, gorgeous." 

He gropes at your tits, trying to give himself a reprieve from the sensation. You mirror him, squeezing your hands into fists, nails threatening to break skin. As if to comfort you, Suguru murmurs sweet nothings into your ear. 

Satoru's rhythm starts to falter. His breath hitches, indicating what's to come. His hands squeeze. His pace gets even rougher. Suguru frowns when you give a wilted moan, more pained than anything. 

"Satoru," he says, almost lecturing, "be nicer." 

When Satoru doesn't respond, Suguru is quick to retaliate. You flinch when he grabs Satoru's hair, yanking him away from your chest. Satoru whimpers. 

"'Can't help it—fuck, so fucking good." His voice is high and needy, juxtapositioning the crude way he's fucking himself into you, the way he's hiking a leg over his hip, driving himself even deeper inside your cunt. He starts drawing quick messy circles around your swollen clit. 

The angle proves to be enough to push you over the edge. You seize around his cock, spamming around him. Despite the harsh grip Suguru has on him, Satoru is quick to follow. He grits his teeth before something hot and horrible fills you. 

You stay like that, heaving in deep breaths. Satoru's breathing is labored too. He laughs, it sounds exhausted. You're helpless to do anything but comply when he grabs your chin to kiss you. It's messy, but not as rough as it was earlier. You're too exhausted to hate it. 

His cock slips out of you. His cum slips out, too, running down your thighs. You should be worried about it staining the carpet, but you're too out of it to think of anything. Suguru brushes Satoru's hair, looking satisfied. When Satoru has his fill of your lips, he pulls away. You catch his eyes. There's no unsatiable lust within them. Just warmth, as well as another emotion that makes you want to hurl. 

But it's over. It's finally over. It's the only part that keeps you from breaking apart. They'll leave. Leave you to cry in a corner while you pick up the pieces that were once you. 

Satoru tucks himself back in his pants. Suguru exhales in contentedness before he, too, rises from the couch. You wait for them to leave. 

They don't leave. 

With horrible gentleness, Suguru picks you up, corralling you into his chest. You whine when he moves your body, but you don't do much else. You can't. 

They share a laugh at your expense before he's carrying your broken, naked body up to the bedroom. It parallels the times when you were too tired to walk to the bedroom yourself. When Suguru was just a man you thought you could love. When you felt safe in his arms. 

Now you feel nothing but cold, despite how warm his hands are. 

He deposits you in the bed. Satoru comes up behind him, pulling an oversized shirt over your head. Their hands are uninterested in your body, working in tandem. 

The don't leave. 

You feel dirty and sticky. You're aching all over. You want to do nothing more but curl up in the hot shower and cry. They prevent that luxury from you too. The bed isn't big enough for all three of you, but they manage regardless. Satoru curls around you, sliding a hand across your back, bringing your face into your chest. You can feel Suguru settle in behind you, draping his hand across your waist. 

Someone kisses your temple. Someone yawns. 

They don't leave. 

You don't want to sleep. You feel like if you do you might not ever wake up from this nightmare. But your eyes are getting heavy, and for even a couple hours, you want to escape from thinking and hurting. 

"Isn't this nice?" Suguru says from behind, burying his face into your hair, he inhales deeply. 

"It'll always be like this from now on." He sounded relieved. Satoru hums in agreement. 

"All for you, baby," Satoru promises again, curling his hands tighter, "We're all for you."

Your heart drops to your stomach. 

That's what you were afraid of. 

[delphi-shield]

instant connection .ᐟ.ᐟ

di!leon x reader - long-distance relationship - part 1

next part

leon's a liar.

he doesn't mean to be. he tells you he works in security because it's easier than explaining the shitshow that is the DSO. you'll ghost him in a few messages anyway - and if you don't, he'll do the honors.

leon. 6'0''. works in security at no. undecided on kids. doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, long-term relationship, open to short. his first picture is of him throwing a peace sign to the camera, hair immaculate. (he'd had to crop out the hideous monster, a writhing mass of flesh and teeth, and now bullets. leon had realized very quickly that most of his selfies were ones he sent to hunnigan and ranged from drowned cat couture, 'forgot my umbrella today' to 'i'll help you train if you want to be a field agent, you're missing out', encouragement in the same frame as his latest monstrosity.)

the only thing completely true on his profile is his name and his status as a non-smoker and newly minted teetotaler. (according to his sobriety chip, he hasn't touched a drink in eight months. he keeps it in the same pocket he used to stash his flask in.) he's probably six foot in his shoes, he figures. that's only a half lie. 'undecided' should be 'unlikely', but that hadn't been an option in the drop down menu. his therapist says he needs to keep himself open to happiness, not to hold his dreams under water and drown them the moment he dares to have hope. it sounds kind of like bullshit, but undecided is the closest he's letting himself get to optimism for the time being. it's the same deal with long-term, open to short - blind optimism undercut by what he knows life has in store for him.

companionship isn't in the cards for him, not in any meaningful way, and that's fine. you get used to it after a while. it dulls out, gets hazy, only really creeps in on lazy weekends when he leaves the window cracked, swept in on sweet-smelling spring breezes.

it's one of those days when he opens his dating app to review his scant few likes. he clears the cobwebs from his profile only often enough to keep it active (there's that hope again). activity was few and far between, usually saved up to have claire or hunnigan go through his options and point out red flags that he would gladly sail right past - but that day, a cavern had opened in his chest. he only knew how to fill it with validation.

you were half-way across the goddamn country. you'd probably liked him weeks ago when you were passing through. seemed like a safe enough bet. more than likely, you'd never respond. even if you did, this would never work out. the distance was crazy.

so of course he messages you.

all right, what's wrong with you?

kind of a weird thing to say to a stranger, but you take it in stride and turn the question back on him when you respond an hour and a half later, the notification so surprising to him that he has to reel back through your profile to see what he's actually dealing with.

the distance makes it safe. there's a buffer between you. unspoken, mutual understanding that this is impractical and a waste of time.

the messages get more frequent. the stilted conversation melted to daily updates, and he'd exchanged phone numbers with you out of convenience. the app was a pain in the ass. he didn't want to get guff for being on a dating app during work hours, but texts were easily hand-waved. daily pictures escalated to weekly calls, which mutated into scheduled movie nights. there were a host of classics he needed to show you. his contribution to society was making one more person culturally conscious of leon s. kennedy's greatest hits.

leon remembers exactly where he was when you'd sleepily confessed that you weren't talking to anyone else. posted up in a hotel in belgium, getting ready for his operation. it was the middle of the night for you. the day loomed ahead of him, loaded with hostility and viscera. you were half asleep. he could have told you anything and you would have hummed and forgot it, nestled into your pillow. he tells you the truth instead, that he'd deleted the app you'd met on, that you're the only one he's talking to as well. it's the closest to commitment he can do and you take that promise to your dreams.

since then, he warns you when he'll be away for a 'business conference', unlikely to respond.

(conference sucked, he messages you from his hospital bed. he's fresh off assignment chest wrapped tight in bandages. he'll be out in a few hours. nothing serious. part of him aches to reassure you about something you didn't even know you had to worry about. execs tried to eat me alive out there.)

leon realizes he's fucked when he pays more attention to you, pinned to the top right corner of his laptop, than the cheesy horror-comedy you'd picked out for movie night. one hand itches for the bottle and the other itches for you, imagining what it would feel like with your weight dipping the mattress next to him, how his hand might fit against the arc of your hip - the movie on the big screen, not his laptop, still ignored in favor of watching you.

"are you even paying attention?" your voice crackles over the speaker, competing with the honking of a clown nose. he's lost the plot of the movie, doesn't quite understand where all the clowns came from (outer space, he thinks, but that would be ridiculous). he's too busy replaying your voice in his head, imagining it slower, sleepier, pressed into his shoulder.

"yeah, of course."

"uh-huh," you hum doubtfully.

you encourage him to pay attention to the next scene, pointing as if that will do anything when there's so many miles between you. something about the practical effects. he tries, honest to god, but his eyes keep drifting up to you.

he's not a monster. he waits til the movie is over to spring his stupid idea on you. leon respects the sanctity of film, the intimacy of showing your favorites with another person and the anxious hope that they'll understand the piece of you you're trying to share with them.

but he can't get the idea out of his head, and he'll make it up to you with a thorough analysis of the movie next time you have a movie date because if he doesn't say this now he's going to pussy out.

"listen, i was thinking," he ruminates, taking his time to chew his words. plenty of time to back out. leon's grown good at identifying what sort of anxiety is brewing in his gut - perks of the job - and he knows he'll kick himself if he back out now.

"that's rare."

"hilarious. i'm serious, i've been thinking. i've got some time off built up. if i don't use it by the end of the year, they don't pay it out. company's a bunch of cheap asses."

he's talking in circles and you've already reached the ending. he leans a little closer to the screen, hopes the look in your eye is glee and not fear.

"so..." leon trails off. plenty of room to back out. if you don't grasp this he'll just ask for travel tips and lick his wounds somewhere warm and tropical.

but you don't offer that. you sit up a little straighter. he swears that's a smile that you're fighting to keep down. "so...how soon are you thinking?"

casual. nice.

"as soon as possible." less casual. shit. "i was thinking a week. is that--?"

"that's great. can you let me know the dates?"

"yeah. yeah, of course."

this is going too well. too smoothly.

leon takes a breath, combs his fingers through his hair.

"we are talking about me coming to visit, right?"

you laugh at him. he's never been so happy to be laughed at.

"yeah, leon. you're coming to visit."

"just making sure."

it's impractical. it's unlikely. his therapist is going to have a field day next session. he still hasn't figured out what to do when you find out that 'security' had been a very misleading description of his work, or when you figure out that he's only 5'10'' on a good day. none of it is fair to you, he realizes, but booking his flight is his first step in trying to do right by you.

"i'll pick you up from the airport," you insist.

"i want a sign with my name on it."

"i'll put 'kennedy' on it and wear a suit and sunglasses so people think you're a big deal."

"i kind of am a big deal."

you roll your eyes. "oh, my mistake."

if only you knew that was the truth.

dividers from @/adornedwithlight

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you. 

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

-----------------------------

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile. 

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that. 

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

------------------------------

Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely. 

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now. 

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns." 

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now. 

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day. 

-----------------------------

"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

--------------------------------

I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[luvyeni]

( drabble ) love island ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 이제노 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ under the covers with lover jeno ヾ

fling!jeno・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎fingering , sex with people in the room , dirty talk・ ‎0.5k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. idk if ure like, familiar w love island, but a lottttt of the couples there make out and shi (and even have sex sometimes all in the same room). can i req for haechan or mark or jeno trying to make out or feel reader up or initiating sex whilst being in a room full of ppl 😁

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 fun fact i had an idea for a sort of love island / dating show smau with jeno where readers got to eliminate the couples through voting but i scraped it once i started pre writing my chapters.

it was pretty quiet in the room besides the snoring; it was 6 other couples in the room so you couldn't really complain about that. you had joined the dating show for fun; but also with the hope of finding someone you could share your love with — and boy did you did.

lee jeno was his name; and he was like something out of a dream, not only was he not as hell, his body well sculpted. he was also sweet and kind , and granted you've known him for a few weeks , he doted on you — both of you being from the same place , you wished you had met him , way before you joined the dating show.

you've made good friends on the show; the only downside to the situation is you're staying in the same room as those said friends. you hardly had any privacy , you couldn't do anything without at least one of them being there; that included having sex or any form of intimacy. it didn't really stop anything , hearing all kinds of noises during the night , learning to ignore it and not speak of it — what are you supposed to do when there's a hot man or woman in your bed , half naked in the dark? isn't that what you sign up for when you decide to join a dating show?

“baby.” jeno whispered; almost groaning under the covers with you. “baby please.” his head in your neck , planting little kisses , you sighed. “jeno people are sleeping.” he didn't care about that at all; you were in his bed , half naked in his shirt — the other couples in the room were the least of his problems. “i promise you at least two of them aren't.” your faces close to each other; you can feel his breath , his hands on your waist. “come on , just give me a kiss then.”

you knew you should've given in to him with the kiss , but you couldn't help it; he pulled you close , kissing you. you pulled away , his forehead pressed against yours , smirking as he grabbed you chin , pulling you into another heated kiss , his lips working their way to your ear. “see you want it, don't you?” nipping at your earlobes. “you're grinding against my leg baby.”

you finally gave in; a quiet moan emitting from your mouth. “jeno please touch me.” he bit his lip , smirking. “i knew it baby , your little pussy needs me.” maintaining eye contact with you , as he brought his perfectly long fingers to his lips , licking them. “je-jeno.”

he shushed you; moving your panties to the side , pushing his fingers inside you. “fuck.” you sighed, his fingers moving slowly. “look at you , dripping down my fingers.” he chuckled in your ear. “hardly ever have any privacy, i know your sweet pussy needed this.” he cursed as you clenched around his fingers. “can't wait until you're doing this on my cock.” he moved his fingers in and out of you , biting your lip almost hard enough to make yourself bleed. “fuck i can't wait until this show is over , so i can hear your pretty moans while i fuck you.”

you gripped his bicep , shaking in his hold as you came , hiding your face in his chest trying to conceal your moans as he fingered you through your orgasm. “good girl.” he whispered. “such a good girl fa me.”

“when this show is over nothing is stopping me from fucking you into the nearest private room.”

©LUVYENI

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Imperfections and All

|| Jinx x fem!reader

|| Warnings; Jinx having a breakdown, crying, hearing voices, seeing people that aren't there, brief season two/end of season one spoilers, reader comforting Jinx

|| Summary; when reader finds Jinx, Jinx isn't fully there.

Requests closed!

Started; December 1st

Finished; December 1st

HurtCember2024; Day 2, Breakdown

~~~

A familiar cold laughter filled the air. You'd walked into your girlfriend's workshop, taking light steps over the metal surface. Walking through here always made you nervous; there were no railings. So you made sure to tread carefully.

"Jinx?" You called. The laughter didn't seem to stop. It continued until you found her. Curled up in a ball under her workbench. Eyes wide, head in her hands. Gripping at her hair while muttering nonsense to herself. You hated seeing her like this. It pained you knowing the girl you loved went through everything that she did. Jinx didn't deserve it. Nobody deserved this.

Her eyes snapped to you. You weren't sure if she was even seeing you. That happened, sometimes. Jinx would look at you and say another name. Sometimes Vi, Claggor, Mylo, even Vander and Caitlyn. Lately Silco. It was always another name when she was like this. But never yours. That had to be a good sign, right? Your voice wasn't tormenting her. "What're you looking at, Mylo? You happy? Turned into the Jinx you always thought I was." Jinx's words came out as a spit. Making you frown.

Slowly, carefully. You moved yourself under the workbench. Settling down beside her. Your skin brushing against each other. "It's me, Jinx." You assured her. Hesitant at first, but slowly your hand moved to her knee. Cupping it in an attempt to ground her. It didn't. Jinx flinched away from you, eyes wide. She hid her face in her hands again. Continued mutters, a lot of 'shut ups'. Never directed at you. Never you.

"Hey..." You reached out again. Gently taking her hands from her face and bringing her into your arms. Jinx tried to fight it. But caved and sobbed into you. Maybe she realized through her breakdown that it was you holding her. Or she was just desperate for comfort. You weren't sure. It could be either or something else entirely with her. You held her regardless. Whispering soft phrases of comfort. Trying to ease her back to you.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before you faintly heard what sounded like Jinx muttering your name. You looked to her and she lifted her head up. Eyes red from the tears that had fallen. They were softer, though. Nothing like the look Jinx had when you first found her. "How long have you..."

"Not sure," you admitted. Knowing she was asking how long you'd been there; wondering how much you had seen of her breakdown. Jinx sighed and slumped against you. Tired out from it all. Eyes half lidded. Your hands found hers, keeping them in your lap. Gently tracing her knuckles to soothe her.

"Why do you stay..?" Jinx asked after a long moment of silence. You didn't have to think about it. You knew exactly why. You loved her. Regardless of her faults. Jinx was yours; you would help her through hell if you had to. It didn't matter to you. As long as you got her.

"Because I love you. Imperfections and all."

Jinx's eyes searched yours. Looking for any sign of a lie. The slightest bit of hesitation. Anything to convince herself you weren't being truthful. But when she found none, her shoulders eased. Reminding herself you weren't like the others. You weren't her sister. You weren't Mylo, Clagger, Vander, Caitlyn. Or even Silco. You were you. Always there. Reminding her how much you loved her, no matter how insane she got. How out of place she felt. It never mattered to you. All that you wanted was her. Your loyalty was one of the things Jinx clung to. If she lost you...

The atmosphere was calmer now as Jinx's eyes met yours. The faint smile on your lips bringing her back to reality with you. "There you are," you murmured. Hand cupping Jinx's cheek. Feeling when she leaned into your touch. Jinx's arms wrapped themselves around you. Her legs clinging around your waist. Looking a lot like you had a koala attached to your front. Her face buried into your neck. You let the girl get comfortable. Knowing it was what she needed now more than ever," I've got you. I always will," your head came down and your cheek pressed to the top of Jinx's head. Your own arms latching around her. Trying to get impossibly closer.

"I love you, too," you could faintly hear Jinx's voice. Quite a bit quieter than how she normally spoke with you. The bubbly, energetic version of herself buried deep within. But her words were genuine nonetheless. You smiled and kissed the side of her head. Understanding that she just needed sometime to find herself again. A search you would gladly be the guide for.

[snapscube]

so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.

my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.

obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.

of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.

and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!

sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.

this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.

also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.

[ambrosia-vinca]

There's a kind of defensive attitude towards criticism re:Lucanis' romance in many corners of the fandom that I partially understand because Veilguard gets a lot of shit thrown at it, and if you enjoy something you naturally want to defend it. But this type of attitude also rubs me the wrong way when people who loved the way his romance played out say that anyone criticizing it must just not understand slow burns/not like slow burn as a genre/not understand Lucanis' character and his trauma properly/must have been expecting explicit sex scenes and a Zevran 2.0.

Maybe some people criticizing his romance don't like slow burns, or were wrongly expecting him to be a sex god, or ignore his trauma. I've seen a few. But that's not all the criticism there is.

Personally, I love slow burns, it's my favorite genre both to read and write (I'm the type of fic writer to think up 200k words enemies to lovers longfics where they've barely kissed after 100k words). I'm also the type of ace person who's not into extremely explicit sex scenes or super kinky romances (especially with male dom stuff, which I personally dislike). And lastly, I'm the type who picks the angstiest possible romance choice.

All this to say that Lucanis and his romance were theoretically made in a lab for me. Slow burn because the character doesn't trust easily and is traumatized by his past experiences and has many things he must resolve, excruciatingly slow to open up? Unexpectedly very sweet, wet, sad man with puppy eyes? Romance scenes that are caring and romantic instead of outright steamy? Perfect, right up my alley! I keep romancing Fenris in DA2 exactly for that reason because I love him dearly, and he breaks up with Hawke for 3 whole years! Still my favorite!

But the whole point of a slow burn are the steps. It's a slow burn, which means little step by little step, the relationship slowly builds to a conclusion, from tentative acquaintances who don't trust each other, to slooowly evolve into something more, and it's precisely these crumbs that make the trope enjoyable.

To me, Lucanis' romance doesn't feel like it does little steps, it feels like it skips steps. I can see the main story beats of a good slow burn, but not the crumbs that make a slow burn. I don't want him and Rook to jump each other after 2 scenes, I want to see more of the fumbling, the hesitation, the dancing around each other. No, dragon age isn't a romance game, I'm aware, but if romance is an option, and it is written to fit a specific trope, I would like it done properly. They've done slowburns and angsty before, and they were good (even Solas', and his romance is super short). I want the evolution of the relationship shown to me, not told in broad strokes and big steps, and I don't want to have to write half the romance in my head or rely on ao3.

We get nothing between the coffee date and the almost kiss, absolutely no reaction of any kind to the flirting, not even a blink. If Lucanis and Rook were capable of having an entire conversation about coffee and kisses metaphors when they barely knew each other, then I think they can flirt a bit more in the following conversations when you pick the romantic option, dance around each other, have Lucanis fumble a little more like he does with Neve when he actually registers Rook is sincerely into him. Even just a sign that he heard Rook when they pick the romantic option in the following conversations, because as it is he immediately resumes whatever he was saying. And if his lack of reaction is because he's suddenly afraid and thinks it's a bad idea, I would like it shown on his face, or as an actual noticeable pause/hesitation. It didn't look like he thought it was a bad idea at Café Pietra, unless he just thought Rook was flirting just to flirt and wasn't serious, but again, none of that is hinted at in any way.

Then there's the almost kiss that follows and is the first actually romantic moment we get after the coffee date, and suddenly Lucanis is all smooth and confident about flirting again. With nothing in between ever since *Illario voice* he got all romantic about roasts. Was he reluctant before and that's why he didn't react to Rook's flirting/caring concern? We have no idea, because while he warns Rook it's a bad idea to be attracted to him, he doesn't seem scared, more amused at their daredevil tendencies. The first time in his entire romance we get a clear indication he's afraid and won't open up for a long time is at the end of this specific scene, when he pulls away, and the way it happens is like Lucanis himself wasn't expecting his fear to overcome him. He wants, he lets himself be pulled forward, and then he suddenly gets drowned by overwhelming terror, and he pulls away.

The beginning of the romance (the date + almost kiss) reads to me as if Lucanis was trying to forget the Ossuary, letting himself flirt and feel attraction and just simply live again as if nothing happened, believing if he didn't think about his trauma and forcefully moved forward then it would stay buried, and then the Ossuary unexpectedly caught up to him, because you don't just bury things like that, it always comes back up at some point if you make no effort to actually process what happened.

And then there's nothing again for a long while. I can imagine Rook leaving space for Lucanis because they're considerate of his feelings and they can see something is deeply wrong, but still, something big and awkward happened between them! Not even one conversation where they try to gently broach the subject and Lucanis immediately clams up? What about some mentions of how awkward things suddenly are between the two? Even through party banter? We got plenty about Hawke and Fenris' situationship in DA2 after Fenris pulls away. The other companions comment on their breakup and how it's painfully obvious they're in love still, no matter what happened, and there are a few banters between Hawke and Fenris themselves. Surely things are a little tense and awkward between Rook and Lucanis as well at that point, and their friends would notice? They don't spend as much time together as they used to, Lucanis doesn't talk directly to Rook much anymore unless he has to, can't quite look them in the eye, doesn't want to stay alone in a room with them. He is still protective of them because he obviously cares very much, but can't bring himself to have an honest talk about his feelings and fears because he's still completely locked in his mind prison and would rather deal with his problems by stabbing his enemies.

Rook being lost because they haven't been inside his head yet and they're not sure if it's because of what Lucanis has been through, or if they did something wrong to get them rejected, and they're stuck because Lucanis completely refuses to open up. There are so many little things that could have been implemented to actually serve as the little steps for the slow burn. You're telling me even Emmrich or Neve, perceptive as they are, wouldn't have noticed their two friends suddenly being awkward and sad and not try to talk to Rook about it at the very least?

And then there's the mind prison where Rook gets all Lucanis' fears and insecurities explicitly told to them. Immediately followed by the scene where you lock in the relationship as he makes them dessert.

Were they in a relationship?? When did they get together? Do they get together right there in the kitchen by the sheer power of cake (ok, relatable)? You don't know! They almost kiss, things are theoretically painfully awkward between them for a while, Rook discovers the substance of his trauma, and poof. They're a couple. Yes, I know that Lucanis' love language is acts of service, but did they communicate at all at any point about what's going on between them? Surely even if Rook helping him out of his head puts him on the road to eventual recovery, it didn't suddenly erase all of Lucanis' trauma and fears and doubts.

I liked Rook calling out the subtext of what Lucanis says in that scene (“it's nothing, or not enough”/”it is, and you are”), I did think it was sweet and perceptive of them. But still, we go from attraction to pulling away to suddenly committing to a relationship with never actually discussing exactly what goes on between them. Never outright deciding they want to try something serious. There wouldn't have been much actual flirting or sincere conversations between them after the almost-kiss, for obvious reasons, so how does Lucanis know Rook hasn't moved on/isn't angry at him after all this time, considering how they didn't communicate at all afterwards and he's not exactly the best at feelings and self-confidence? He just talks as if it's a given they're attracted to him still, and only worries about not being good enough for them. I wanted crumbs of reassurance from Rook, more than what we got, because Lucanis' probable guilt is never actually tackled in any way – he had perfectly valid reasons to pull away, of course, but considering how much he blames himself for anything and everything, I'm pretty sure he would also blame himself for hurting Rook's feelings, even if they're understanding and not actually angry with him at all.

Idk. I have a lot of thoughts, especially about the middle of his romance. The last big scene we get is one of my favorites through all dragon age games, it was so sweet, but I still felt like the entire middle part of the romance lacked a lot of slow burn crumbs, and I was still hungry when I got to the end.

[carbondioxidewater]

Make A Move

americanfootballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst

warnings: none so far

word count: 1.8k

(-> Pt. 2) (-> Pt. 3) (-> Pt. 4) (-> masterlist)

Being too kind is truly a disadvantage sometimes, you thought to yourself when you realized the true intentions of your counterpart.

You were sitting at a table in one of the most renowned restaurants in the city. A classmate from one of your courses invited you after you two had successfully presented your group project. He was adamant on taking you out to celebrate your success and you were too kind to decline, being relieved yourself. He wanted to pick you up from home, but you told him not to bother driving to your dorm and just meet you there.

"'My treat." he said, referring to you doing the most part. Honestly, he didn't participate too much, that's why you figured it would be just fair for him to do something for you in return. After all, you saved both of your grades.

But when he began to make remarks about your appearance and asked you what you have in mind to pay him back because he'd pay for dinner, you quickly searched for a way to get out. You cursed yourself on the inside for even accepting the invitation and not seeing through his facade - you didn't take him for that kind of guy - but of course, he's a man after all. You would never ever blame yourself for the horrible behavior of men though, this is completely on him and if you wouldn't see him constantly, you probably would've smacked him across the face. But you were not in the mood to fight, you simply wanted to flight. Of course, the bathroom was your first idea, so you excused yourself and made your way to the back of the restaurant where the sanitary rooms were.

There was a small window at the top of the wall that you could only reach when standing on the toilet, but it was big enough for you to fit through. You didn't think too much and started crawling out of it.

There were a few stacked boxes outside that you, very carefully, used for support and once you stepped fully on them, you jumped down the not too high distance to the floor. You didn't notice someone standing outside, too engulfed in your plan to get out, so when you suddenly heard a voice next to you, that certain someone startled you.

You immediately recognized the person, it was the heartthrob of the college and the most popular guy on campus. Even outside of your campus, many were familiar with his name, he was known all over the city for his excellent and extraordinary football skills - it was no other than Ryomen Sukuna.

"You know there's a door over there right?" he immediately began, cocking his head into a certain direction.

You looked to your right and to your surprise, there was a door indeed.

Shit, you thought, there must have been an exit right next to the bathrooms that you failed to see.

"Oh." you simply voiced out, not knowing what else to reply to someone you never talked to. You weren't even sure if he knew you went to the same university as him.

"Who are you running from? A horrible date?" he asked then, smirkingly.

"Just another guy who thinks I owe him a favor for something I didn't even ask for." you replied sighingly when your open and unfiltered answer quickly stunned you - usually you weren't this talkative with someone you pretty much considered a stranger. To get rid of the sudden awkwardness that emerged in you, you asked him a question back.

"And what are you doing here outside, all alone in this empty and dark alley?"

He shrugged, then started to speak again.

"Smoking." he bluntly said and held up his right hand, it was just then that you noticed the half burned cigarette in it.

"Isn't smoking allowed inside?" you questioned, remembering the sign that you definitely saw when entering the restaurant.

"Can't a man enjoy the silence and peace of the night?" he replied back.

You went silent and just stared at him, not knowing what else to say.

"What, are you scared of me? Scared of someone who enjoys spending his time in dark backstreets?" he smiled smugly and slowly came closer, caging you between him and the wall behind you. When he saw your startled face, he backed off and laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything to you."

"I know, you'd have your whole football career ruined and I don't take you for the guy to risk that."

At that comment, he seemed surprised.

"You know me?"

"Who doesn't." you simply waved your hand and that intrigued him.

"Don't you think this is a little unfair?" he then voiced and that confused you.

"What do you mean?"

He grinned.

"I mean that you know who I am, but I don't know who you are. Care to enlighten me?"

"Not my fault you don't notice people you share a course with." he seemed truly surprised at that.

"We're sharing a course? Which one?"

"Find it out." you then teased and immediately excused yourself right after.

"Anyways, I have to get going before my cover blows. Have fun strolling around dark alleyways all creepily." you surpressed a smile and quickly went your way. He was speechless.

Yes, you definitely intrigued him.

At home, you immediately told your friends Shoko and Utahime about the horrible evening and your encounter with THE Ryomen Sukuna. Thankfully, you three being little gossip girls made your night better.

The next monday morning came by and you were on your way to your class. You were pretty early, so you sat down on a bench near the sports field and enjoyed the morning sun shining down on you. Usually you weren't so early, coming last minute but still punctual every day, not feeling the need to be there earlier than required. You just knew how to do it.

What you didn't know is that Sukuna has been thinking about you a lot during the weekend, wondering if you really went to the same college as him. Wouldn't he have noticed you?

So when he coincidentally saw you sitting there at the bench, him being on the field behind you to use the empty space to train a little, he started to walk up to you. But before he even reached the end of the field, you were already gone, already left for your class.

That happened again and again, whenever he spotted you on campus, you always found a way to get lost in between the crowds of students, he was simply unable to get to you, not that you had noticed of course.

On friday, he finally catched you after his second class ended. He ran up to you quickly but carefully, not wanting to attract your attention to purposefully scare you a little again.

"We don't have any courses together." He remarked after basically teleporting out of nowhere and he was pleased to see you wincing. You responded in amusement.

"But it left you wondering, didn't it? That just proves my point: you don't notice your surroundings, otherwise you would've known right from the start."

"Such a shame, I was kind of looking forward to seeing you in my classes." Your heart missed a beat, causing you to fail to come up with a fitting reply, caught off guard by his response.

"Didn't know I was dealing with a pathological liar, though." he added.

"Didn't know I was dealing with a self-centered player. Oh wait, I did!" you followed suit and he catched onto that insinuation.

"You mean player as in athlete or fuckboy?" he questioned, completely amused by your insolence.

"Guess we'll never know." you shrugged and he laughed.

"Sassy. I like you." You felt yourself heating up at those words. Somehow, he was very easy to talk to.

"So, what made you exit through that window last week? Don't you know that normal people use, I don't know, doors?"

"Nothing that concerns you, I believe."

"It does, it traumatized me. Imagine you're just trying to enjoy your life, then all of a sudden someone creeps out of the window. A disturbing sight, really."

"Sorry for not meeting your standards then."

"I didn't say that." he corrected you and smiled cheekily. He was confusing you, was he flirting with you?

"So?"

"So what?"

"Your date."

You sighed. "It wasn't a date."

"Hah, and I already wondered why you were dressed so casually."

You furrowed your brows.

"Do I have to look special to go on a date?" you questioned. To be fair, you like getting ready and dressing up all prettily, but that comment made you challenge him anyways.

He laughed at your upfrontness and continued.

"Not at all. It's just that from my experience, I know people usually put more effort into their appearance when going out on a date."

"If you figured, why bother asking?" you asked, half playful half serious.

He smirked again.

"Feisty, I like that." You rolled your eyes. "I'm just curious. Am I wrong?"

"Well, I guess people only dress up for special people."

"And he wasn't?" he tilted his chin upwards but still stared down at you with his eyes, awaiting your response.

You snorted. "No, he was not."

"So? What did he do?"

"Why do you care so much? Don't you have anywhere to be?" you then asked, remembering he probably had classes to attend to after break, just like you.

"Why do you care about my obligations?"

That silenced you. He laughed.

After a small second of silence and the expectant look on his face, you gave in and told him the story.

"Happy now?" you asked after finishing.

"Of course not. That guy is an asshole." He exclaimed. His reaction surprised you, after all, he was a famous womanizer himself.

"Oh come on, no need to feign sympathy, you probably use the same methods on girls."

That made his eyes widen.

"Who do you take me for? I'm a true gentleman. Speaking of it, where's your next class? Want me to bring you?" he suggested, but you declined.

"No, thank you, I think I'm very much capable of finding the way myself."

And he was shook, never before had a girl rejected his offer.

To be honest, being reminded of last friday soured your mood and you were confused about the sudden interest Sukuna had taken in you. If he thought you'd be his new plaything, he was wrong. He has the whole campus swooning over him, but it's basic knowledge that he leads women on. You didn't have anything against him, but you were not interested in joining his world.

Sukuna stopped in his tracks for a moment and watched after you.

Oh, you're gonna be a lot of work, he thought to himself, catching himself smiling.

Had this in my drafts and I've remembered it randomly. Let me know what you think! I have a lot of ideas already...🌜

[jedi-starbird]

Time Travel is my favourite trope and I think we need more fics where both Obi-Wan AND Qui-Gon time travel together because no matter when they get sent it's chaos. They're saving the galaxy and being physic flash-bangs to everyone around them.

like before Bandomeer?

The entire council is baffled to watch as Qui-Gon 'never taking a padawan again' Jinn has suddenly cut off his post-Xanatos depression tour to return to the temple and beeline to the creche with a frantic energy. His wild eyes immediately single out a fluffy, red-haired initiate.

"You." he exhales with a pointed finger, slightly ominous as he towers over the child. Said child starts vibrating with delight. "Me." he agrees, launching himself at the man. Qui-Gon drops to his knees with a thud that cannot be healthy. Obi-Wan's attempts to clamber into Qui-Gon's robes and maybe onto his shoulders is thwarted by the fact that Qui-Gon's massive hands are cupping Obi-Wan's tiny squishy cheeks. He stares at the initiate for a few minutes with an intensity that is starting to worry people.

Finally, "You're so small." Qui-Gon sounds like he might cry.

'What the fuck?' Plo Koon projects at Mace.

"I'm 9! That tends to be the case!" the child chirps back.

"You're nine." Oh. Ah. Qui-Gon's eyes are distinctively misty. He squishes the boy in a hug so hard he squeaks. Mace makes a series of gestures that imply the need for a head-scan. Depa obligingly drifts off towards the halls. Qui-Gon scoops the child up onto his hip and claims him as his padawan on the spot. The assorted council members and creche-masters burst into noise. Mace tells Depa to bring some space ibuprofen as well.

after Naboo?

Anakin is a little apprehensive of his place in both the order and Obi-Wan's life, but then one day Obi-Wan wakes up and is suddenly a lot less sad in the force?? In fact, if Anakin didn't know better he'd say he was almost giddy, but he's watched Obi-Wan try to pretend his world hasn't fallen apart for the past few months so it can't be that, right? And um, Miss Bant? He knows grief is a funny thing that affects people differently but he's pretty sure 'massive mood swing' and 'having full conversations with invisible people' is not...great? and you said to tell you if Obi-Wan got really weird in any way.

Anyway after a lot of medical exams, intense consultation with the archives, and a couple exorcisms, Anakin ends up being raised by his 'real' master and his ghost master. He is far more well adjusted emotionally and far less well adjusted for what counts as normal people behavior(not talking to thin air). When questioned on this, all he ever says is that he's talking to Qui-Gon. Isn't he...dead? Well, yes. Wait, he's a ghost? Ghosts are real? ...Well this ghost is real.

This starts a great number of existential crises among non-force sensitives and incredibly heated theological arguments amongst the Jedi. Whenever Obi-Wan is questioned on this, all he ever says is some variation of "the force got to know him for 5 seconds and kicked him back out." Mace backs him up on this even though that reasoning is technically blasphemous. Qui-Gon is having the time of his un-life. He's ascended to his final form, his sheer existence is a heresy, this is truly all he has ever aspired towards.

the Clone Wars?

The minute they get dropped back Qui-Gon immediately goes and haunts the shit out of Dooku. They have a signed terms of surrender and promise of info on the Sith Lord within the year. Only half of it is because Qui-Gon's giving Dooku complexes that are only perceptible to shrimp, the other half is because they now have a ghost spy that is not bound by the laws of physics nor spacetime.

Obi-Wan only nominally pays attention to this as he immediately goes and implements his 19 step seduction plan with Cody (he had to focus on something on Tatooine to pass the time). It fails. Spectacularly. Publicly. Ah right. Tatooine was not exactly the height of his sanity. Everyone in the GAR and temple is now riveted by High General and Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi's attempts to go on a date with his Commander, who bats him away him like a particularly annoying stray and seems one bouquet of cactus away from committing mutiny. Anakin is worrying if it means his master knows about his secret marriage and this is some sort of really weird power play. (It is, but not in the way he thinks)

The next time Dooku goes after Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon spends a good few months appearing tear-stained at the edge of Dooku's perception and only communicating in terrible wails and discordant mutterings of 'padawan. my padawan. my little one.' 24/7.

"Wait, you're annoying Dooku into surrendering?"

"Oh no Anakin, we're crushing his psyche like a bug. :)"

[dontbesoweirdkira]

I propose an idea! Romantic Yandere Mark Grayson with batsib mc….oh I can feel the chaos that these two worlds would bring😂

A/N: "BIYVjhKDjshuguj" was my inital reaction to this requests because this is tew good. If you've seen my Mark Grayson post then you know exactly how insane this mf is.

Warnings: Pure crack to be honest? Like this is not even a serious post. I was laughing the entire time. Don’t even know where I was going with this but…I had fun

Requests? always open!

Masterlist

Two black haired, attention whore yanderes with the same last name, walk into a room with their darling in it...who's winning?

I mean technically their meeting is not too far fetched. Mortal Kombat and DC had a crossover..and Invincible is also apart of Mortal Kombat which means- nvm, you didn't ask for that.

Here's the thing, everyone in the family dislikes Mark but yan! Mark and Dick HATE each other the most but because they are low key so similar. Mark is obviously way more extreme but i digress. He brings out the absolutely worse out of Dick.

Like Dick has picked up a Knife and contemplated murder.

Mark and Dick's interactions are hilarious though?? Like they both have the exact same fake smile and passive (heavy on the aggressive) behaviors.

"Ahhh, Mark, we're always pleased to host you since y'know your parents obviously need some sort of break from an irritant, such as yourself."

"Thanks, Dick! But regardless of how much of an irritant i am to them, least i still have two biological parents to care for me. Maybe it's because they're not patrons of the circus....?"

*backhands him*

Jason isn't subtle and has whipped out his guns, ready to blast that mf. He's been the closet to causing Mark to blow up the mansion. It was a whole thing and you dumped Mark over it but of course he gaslighted you.

I think the family doesn't like the fact you're dating someone who can easily take advantage of you. (ironic) Mark is clearly dangerous, he's half viltrumite and they may not know everything his people are capable of but they know he can cause a lot of havoc. Mark is not only a threat to you but to them as well. He puts them in a state of constant high alert. They're always staring him down, searching for any signs of danger. I'm sure Batman has a fail safe plan all ready to go. They are eager for the moment they can take this mf down. Do you think they have the supers on speed dial just in case? Ugh even uncle Clark is disapproving of this too.

Your sisters try endlessly to have heart to hearts with you because WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING????? MARK?! They'd rather you date poke-a-dot man or something because why????

Mark isn't a dumbass, he knows they hate him. He also knows just how scared they are of him and it gives him some sort of sick pleasure knowing he could truly have you all to himself if he really wanted to. But there's really no point in that yet, you're wrapped around his fingers. He totally has thought about going back to his planet with you and keeping your pretty self locked up where your family won't ever find you. That'd really stick it to em'

The cocky, manipulation is just oozing off him every time he's around. The way he shoots threatening looks towards your siblings when they try to get your attention or "playfully" insulting them. There's never a moment where his head isn't held high, looking down at your siblings as if they were beneath him...He runs this place when he's over. Which is all the time because Bruce is like okay, if you won't leave him, you have to be supervised.

Can you imagine combined family dinners with Mark's family and yours??? First, there is definitely a fight of who is sitting next to who. I'll say your brothers win this and are sitting on either side while Mark is fuming as he's across from you. The tension is so freaking high. It's rather silent around the table but everyone is looking at each other either like "I'm ready to kill him when you are" or "i'm going to kill you, mark...". I headcanon that even Bruce has beef with Nolan. They clash rather constantly on their differences of how to handle villains. Nolan is a stone cold killer to Bruce, who is rather set in his ways. It's no wonder Mark is his son. You aren't going to be with this kid for long. "So, Bruce? How's things on your side of town? Still letting your boyfriend out of jail so you can keep playing tag?" "The Joker isn't my boyfriend, i'm just not into murder, unlike some "heros" are. I like to set an example for my kids." "Ah, is that why Jason threatened to kill my son at gun point last month?"

You and Debbie are the only ones who like are trying to be civil and are sort of ignorant to everything going on.

"Um, so i made brownies with Mark's mother for everyone! Anyone want a piece?"

"Of course, love. You know your brownies are my favorite, i've been waiting all day."

Your siblings act like savages and eat the entire pan, stuffing it in their mouths so Mark cannot get any. Bruce doesn't do anything to correct his children out of spite.

Bruce is also debating on just handling them right here. He could have Kal-el over in matters of minutes and this could all be over with.

(Okay but Mark and Damien beating each other’s asses???? Damien cannot bite his tongue and Mark is trying to be nice because he’s a kid but he then Damien call him a "little bitch boy" and it pushes him over the edge. Mark just jumps over the table lollllll???? Sad thing is, Damien gets in tons of cuts with the butterknife he was just using for his sweetroll heheh))) "I though you were invincible...guess i was right in calling you a little bi-" "OH YOU'RE DYING TONIGHT"

[illbegottenfaith]

can I take your order?

you get off on the wrong foot with the new barista at your hometown's coffee shop, but even your off-putting behaviour isn't enough to deter him (theo nott x reader)

a/n - a little birthday gift from me to myself! this was inspired by an episode of fresh off the boat season 4. I dont usually like coffee shop au's but they do make for a fun silly little drabble :)

warnings/tropes - coffee shop au, one-sided reluctant acquaintances to lovers(?), fluff, petty!reader

word count - 2.8k

In hindsight, your first clue should have been the unfamiliar, deep, masculine voice coming from the figure crouched behind the counter. You walked into the coffee shop, the familiar bell jangling warmly.

"Just a minute!"

Strange, you had thought. Elaise sounds rather different. And like the utter idiot you were, you settled on one of most nonsensical conclusions anyone could have drawn - she must have a sore throat. Poor Elaise.

The figure straightened, heaving a box of individually wrapped candy canes onto the counter, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

“Hello. Can I take your order?”

You gaped at the new, unfamiliar barista. His hair fell appealingly across his forehead in soft, silky curls. His cheeks were rosy with the warmth of the cosy shop, and you distantly took note of how becoming the flush looked on him. That, and how adorably put-together he looked on what was clearly his first day on the job, with his neatly rolled-up sleeves and pristine apron.

You, on the other hand, were bundled up in an absurd amount of woollens and jackets, your pinched face desperately lacking any colour or sign of life.

In your defense, you typically looked much more normal. It was just that you could not, for the life of you, find your coat that morning, which may or may not have to do with the fact that you had only haphazardly unpacked half your trunk (you had precious few days away from Hogwarts - you weren't going to spend half of one unpacking and another half packing again.).

Since you could not find your coat, you had made a guess (a rather poor one, you were quickly realising) at how many layers you needed to pile on to avoid catching your death in the brisk chill outside. By the time you stepped outside, you were sweating under the sweltering layers. But the only thing more stupid than bundling yourself in an obscene number of layers was wasting time peeling those layers off, and so you waddled down your driveway with what was left of your dignity.

Besides, on a cold day like this, it wasn't like you were going to run into anyone. Only Elaise down at the coffee shop, someone you could laugh about this with.

Someone you could not laugh about this with, you decided, was the equally stunned stranger of a barista in front of you. It was warm, very warm, inside the coffee shop. With your lucky, you'd somehow manage to sweat through all of your layers. Could he tell you were wearing too many? Was it obvious? Oh, God, between your layers and the overthinking you wer going to overheat. But you couldn't remove any of them, because then it would be obvious, because then he would know -

That was when you made the brilliant observation that he was staring at you just as much as you were staring at him. There was the faintest sheen of sweat along the bridge of his unfairly well-constructed nose. Your gaze slipped down to the box of candy canes he had just pulled out and, with considerable difficulty, willed yourself to tear your eyes away from him. Honestly, what he was doing in a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere with forearms like those?

This was getting ridiculous, you fumed. He was just as out of breath as you, even if it was for entirely different reasons. Why did he get to look so roguishly dishevelled, while you...actually, you didn't want to think about how you looked. His lips were parted and his brow was lightly furrowed. Maybe, if you were clever about this, you could convince him that this was all just a fevered hallucination the both of you shared.

Too late.

He was moving his mouth, and from the way his eyes were fixed on your outermost ugly Christmas sweater (that you had worn ironically. Ironically. You were not destitute in the clothing department.), you were sure he had nothing constructive to say.

So you did what any rational human being would do - turn around and leave.

"And then you just...left? Without saying anything?"

You sealed the last of the cardboard boxes. "He was very off-putting."

Whatever. Ivy hadn't been there. It's not like she would know that you had been the off-putting one.

The two of you were sorting through the boxes cluttering your dreary attic. It had taken up the better part of your morning, but at least you were finally done. Ivy tucked away the last box, wiping her hands down her pants.

"You know what I could really go for right now? A vanilla latte."

You put down the label maker, narrowing your eyes at your friend. "Ivy."

"With a light dusting of cinnamon on top."

"We can't go there," you protested. "We have to stay away from the place until Elaise comes back. If she comes back. You know, out of solidarity?"

What you meant was, you couldn't show your face there again after yesterday. Really, what were you thinking, walking out without so much as a word? He probably thought you weren't right in the head. Although, you thought bitterly, maybe he wasn't far off.

"Oh, relax. She's talked about going out of town to visit her family for ages now. Don't her grandparents live in Minnesota? Besides," Ivy picked up your coats, tossing you yours, "I have to see the guy my best friend is so down bad for."

Your tongue suddenly felt too thick for your mouth. "I'm not down bad for him. Why would you think I'm down bad for him?"

"Y/N, you spent the last half hour talking about his hands."

You scoffed. "Uh, yeah, about how stupid they look, with all those stupid veins and that stupid bone structure."

The whole way there, you came up with more and more excuses to avoid the coffee shop, each one more desperate and ridiculous than the last. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to work.

The two of you walked in, and you were briefly soothed by the comforting aroma of roasted coffee beans. Ivy gave the barista a warm smile. "Hello." Traitor.

"Hi. What can I get you?"

He didn't look as fresh-faced as yesterday, but god was he still devastatingly attractive. You tried to focus on what Ivy was saying.

"I'll have a vanilla latte with cinammon on top."

"And you?"

You opened your mouth. You wanted to tell him your order; really, you did. But for some strange, inexplicable reason, your mind went blank. What did you want? The silence stretched awkwardly. You felt your face heat up. Your throat felt dry. Eventually, Ivy - wonderful, fantastic, heaven-sent Ivy - cleared her throat delicately.

"She'll have a hot chocolate with whipped cream and a hazelnut drizzle. Say, Elaise used to work here, didn't she?"

The barista glanced up at Ivy. "Hm? Oh, yes. She's just out of town for the holidays."

"Minnesota?"

"I think so."

Ivy gave you a knowing look. You scowled at her and looked away, only to see the barista watching you with an odd expression, as if a smile were tugging at his lips. You hurriedly straightened your face, fixing your gaze on the bottles of syrup behind him as he went back to taking the order.

"Could I get your names?"

"Ivy and..." She prodded you in the ribs. You stayed resolutely silent, your eyes only slightly watering from the jab. "...and Y/N," she finished.

Ivy paid, and the two of you found a table in the middle of the shop to wait at. You couldn't stop kicking yourself over the interaction. That was twice you'd made a fool of yourself in front of him now. Once your drinks were ready, Ivy fetched them. When she handed you yours, you turned the cup around in your hand. It felt like any other drink. You turned it a little more and your heart skipped a beat. There was your name scrawled in black ink, and at the end was a slightly untidy, yet unmistakable, heart.

"Aww," Ivy crooned, peeking over, "he likes you."

"Shut up," you mumbled, trying to hide your burning face. Still, when she wasn't looking, you ran a thumb over his writing, memorising every careless flick of his marker.

There had to be something wrong with him. No one was that perfect.

"What am I looking at?" Matteo asked drily, as you stood outside the coffee shop the next day. A couple of your friends were spending Christmas in the area, and you had managed to drag a couple of them down here. The person you really wanted there was Matteo, someone to validate your (diminishing) distaste for the guy. Sometimes you felt like he was the only one who understood your mistrustful nature. You vaguely stabbed at the direction of the barista, who was busily whipping up a drink, through the cafe's window with your mittened hands.

"There. That guy."

"What about him?"

"How much money are you willing to bet on him being a serial killer?"

That was when Matteo started laughing, and it was a long while before anyone could get him to stop.

"I don’t think Matteo was the right person to ask," Ivy said, patting your arm sympathetically once all of you had bundled inside the shop.

"Obviously not," you said bitterly. "He’d gamble his trust fund away for shits and giggles."

Your gaze wandered over to the counter where the others were still ordering. The barista's pencil wasn't moving on his writing pad, and Matteo actually seemed interested in whatever he was saying. Typical. Don't! you wanted to yell. He's the enemy!

"Have a nice little chitchat?" you asked witheringly once the guys returned with their drinks.

"Hey, I was only trying to scope out if he was a - what did you say? Right, a serial killer."

You rolled your eyes. It was starting to get annoying, how everyone couldn't help but love the guy.

"I miss Elaise," you grumbled, taking a sip of your drink. As you set your drink back down, you glanced back at the counter to see the barista once again watching you. You stiffened. What was he looking at? Did you have something on your face? You did have something on your face! You hurriedly wiped off the whipped cream above your upper lip and on the tip of your nose with the back of your hand. But he still wasn't looking away. His eyes dipped down to your drink. Mystified, you followed his gaze, looking more closely at your cup.

There was a cartoonish Christmas tree etched on the side with a speech bubble coming out of its mouth.

Why did the Christmas tree go to the dentist?

You rotated the cup.

It needed a root canal.

A talking Christmas tree. A talking Christmas tree going to the dentist. How ridiculous, you thought. You laughed suddenly, startling your friends. You didn't know why you were nearly It was so stupid that it circled back to being funny. Noticing your friends curiously watching you, you hurriedly rotated the cup, shielding the doodle with your palm. You waved away their questioning glances, and slowly the conversation resumed.

You glanced back at the barista, eyes bright with mirth, watching him take someone else's order. Sure, it was a stupid joke, but it was your kind of stupid joke.

Ever since that first day when you walked out without saying a word, Theo had watched you return to the coffee shop day after day, bringing more and more backup. Today, he had to duck behind the milk steaming station when he spotted your table as he emerged from the back. Impressively, you had managed to squeeze an entire party of seven around a table for two, complete with everyone’s puffy winter coats. As you had discovered a few days ago, that table was the perfect vantage point to spy on the goings-on at the counter.

Today, he approached your table with his familiar writing pad and pencil. "I thought it might be easier if I came to all of you instead of the other way around."

One by one, your friends rattled off their orders.

"Vanilla latte, cinammon on top. Y/N?"

It was your turn. You met his eyes. His striking, crisp blue eyes. Fuck. You felt your thoughts start slipping from your mind again.

"I know," he started saying, "hot chocolate with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle on top."

"Hazelnut."

"Hm?"

Everyone was staring at you. That had just come out of your mouth, hadn't it? Your throat felt scratchy. You didn't think you could string two words together, but somehow, you managed.

"It's not a caramel drizzle," you forced out clumsily, hyperaware of your scarlet face. "It's hazelnut."

Then, oh so subtly, in a way you would have missed it if you hadn't been watching his face so closely, his mouth curved into an undeniable smirk.

You looked around your circle of friends to see if anyone had noticed, but they had been too busy watching you. You looked back at him. The smirk was gone, but the polite graciousness in his eyes as he murmured an apology and walked away didn't fool you.

Ivy patted you on the back, but you shrugged her away. You were too busy fuming. He tricked you. He tricked you. Who did he think he was, manipulating his way into getting you to say two words to him? Before anyone realised what you were doing, including yourself, you were standing up and walking over to the counter with a more than indignant air.

"I bet you think you were real slick with that, huh?"

"With what?" he asked smoothly, completely unfazed as he continued with the drink he was making. Unfazed enough to make you suspect this was what he had planned all along.

"You know. You knew it was hazelnut."

He gave you what anyone else might have mistaken for an innocent smile, but you knew better. "Did I?"

"Yes, and frankly, it's almost insulting to think I wouldn't have picked up o-"

He set down the cup he had been writing on. It was only then that you realised it was your drink.

"Hot chocolate. Whipped cream. Hazelnut drizzle."

You blinked, having lost your train of thought. You hesitantly picked the cup up and walked back to your table.

Your friends were too engrossed in their conversations to notice you returning. You turned your cup, looking for today's doodle. Except, there was no doodle - only your name messily scrawled without so much as a heart. It was legible, but barely.

You bit your lip, trying to stave off the stinging disappointment rushing in. It hurt to know that you had been right all along, that he didn't really fancy you. As for the hurried scribble, who could blame him? He had a good seven or so drinks to make. He was in a rush, he couldn't be wasting time doodling on every single cup.

You looked up, making eye contact with Ivy sitting opposite you. You shook your head, gesturing to your drink. Only, when she glanced at your cup, her eyes widened dramatically. Frowning, you spun the cup around, and you nearly choked.

561-555-7689

"Um, I'm going to get some air," you mumbled to no one in particular, dazed, as you exited the shop with your drink. You looked at the digits on the cup again, repeating them over and over again in your head till you had them memorised. Should you? No, you didn't want to come off as desperate. Unless...no. No. You weren't that pathetic.

Oh, who were you kidding? You had made a complete arse of yourself in front of him. What reason did he have to actually give you his number?

"Hello?"

You were stunned speechless. It worked. He picked up. And you knew it was him, because you could see him on the phone through the window, wiping a hand on his apron as he raised his eyebrows at you.

"...hi." You shook yourself, turning away. It was easier if you didn't have to acknowledge who you were talking to. "Sorry. You're working now, obviously. I just didn't think you'd give me your real number."

"Why would I give you a fake number?"

You could imagine the corner of his lip quirking up into that slightly asymmetrical smile of his. Everything you did seemed to amuse him. You shrugged, laughing weakly. "I don't know. For some kind of sick joke?"

"I thought you liked my jokes."

You scrunched your nose. He had you there.

You called him again that night, once you were sure his shift would have ended. And the night after that, and the night after that, and every night for the rest of the holidays.

[kurokawaia]

❛ Travel ❜

thelast!Uchiha Sasuke X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.5k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; NSFW, contains smut themes, PIV, praise, degradation, the Uchiha breeding kink, breeding for the aim to get pregnant, jelly Sasuke, established relationship as bf and gf, choking, slight breathplay, sasuke is kinda mean here:((, begging. + probably more

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: After Sasuke asked you to accompany him on his travels, he receives a note from Naruto revealing his pregnancy and Sasuke can't help but want to get you full from his seed too 🥺

part 1 | part 2

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

I peaked over Sasuke's shoulder as he was sitting on the ground, hands placed on my knees as I bent down to get a good any to what he was reading. I saw that it was letter directed to Sasuke and signed from Naruto. Sasuke tensed slightly reading the letter which caused me to let a small frown plaster on your face as I couldn't clearly read the letter.

"{Y/n}?" Sasuke hummed turning his head and an embarrassed flush rose to my cheeks. "We are staying at an Inn tonight."

"That's quite sudde-"

I was interrupted by Sasuke pressing his lips to mine briefly. "C'mon."

—

We got given quite a spacious room to stay in for the night, it was clean and tidy. "Sasuke, what was on the letter?" I asked, placing my bag onto the floor.

"Naruto and Hinata are having a child," Sasuke replied.

"Isn't that wonderful!" I exclaim. "We should go and congratulate them!"

He moved so quickly that before I could catch my breath, he pulled me against him and pressed his mouth to mine. My heart pounded violently, causing my brain, throat, and the sensitive area between my thighs to all ache with intense pain which turned into pleasure at his touch.

"We should have one," Sasuke mumbled.

"A kid?" I asked breathless.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"I want to see you full of me, everyone will know your mine," Sasuke said possessively, pressing his lips against mine once more.

His fingers coiled around my throat, Sasuke restrained me as he mercilessly attacked my lips. The sudden intensity made me regain control of my limbs, and I raised my hands to shove him away at the sudden possessiveness, but to my amazement, I fisted his coat instead. I seized handfuls of the dark cloak and pulled him in till we were so close that I couldn't tell where he started and I stopped.

When Sasuke moved his hips slightly to press his hardness into my innermost part, I let out a little moan. "You're going to do me a favour, do you think?" His soothing voice, which contrasts sharply with the ferocity with which he ripped on my hair, drifts over my lips as he whispers.

My eyes welled with tears at the sudden anguish. The pounding in my abdomen grew more intense. "Yes," I answered.

He clamped his teeth down on my lower lip, pulling so hard that I felt a twinge of pleasure and pain shoot through my body. Sasuke whispered to me, "You're going to beg for me."

In a mad dash to get our clothing off, our fingers flew over them. All of them collapsed onto the living room floor, leaving us nude and feeling the heat of electricity coursing through our veins and filling the air.

"Climb up on your hands and knees."

At Sasuke's harsh order, shivers crawled up my spine, but instead of complying, I lifted my chin in defiance. "Make me." As soon as I finished speaking, he took two steps to get closer to me and turned me around. He rammed his knee deep into my rear, knocking me to the ground.

I gave it my best effort, but Sasuke's might was too much for me to handle. As one hand crept between my legs and massaged my swelling clit, the other secured my wrists together behind my back in a steel grip. My throat produced a half-gasp, half-moan as the rush of ecstasy tore it out.

Sasuke jeered, "You're going to take anything I give you." He placed a finger into me and held my clit with his thumb. Even with his knuckles deep in me, I didn't feel any friction because I was so moist. "Soaked," He mumbled, a smirk evident in his tone.

I balled my hands into fists. We'd just gotten started and immediately I was panting and so turned on I could hardly think straight. "Come on, ask for it," He made a moaning sound when he curled his finger and pressed against my clit, then carefully pulled it out and pushed it back in.

His breathing became more laboured. "Please, I want it so bad," I cried out loud. He stuck another finger in me. Faster and faster, in and out, in and out, till the familiar tingling at the base of my spine alerted me to the impending arrival of an orgasm.

Just before my orgasm could explode, he reached around and squeezed my breast, causing a full-body tremble to run through me. He withdrew his hand from my soaked cunt.

Without his assistance, my body collapsed forward onto all fours, and I let out a tiny cry of annoyance at the wrecked climax. I turned my head to give him a fierce look.

I murmured, irritated, "Sasuke," only wanting to feel his fingers dip in and out of my body heat.

Deep, frantic breaths heaved from Sasuke's chest, and his cock protruded straight up, looking painful. Sharp shadows cut over his face, illuminating the blaze of lust in his eyes and the granite set of his jaw as a blade of moonlight ripped through the windows.

"If you would like to come, you know what to do." He pushed my legs apart, his mouth curving. "Look at yourself. You're a complete mess."

My thighs were covered in wetness, and every time air touched my exposed pussy, I would shiver needily. He leaned forward and slowly put one hand around my throat without averting his gaze from mine. He held on to me tightly enough to stop my breathing for a few heartbeats before releasing his hold.

I inhaled sharply, my mind reeling from the momentary lack of oxygen. I didn’t get a chance to respond before he slammed into me from behind with a vicious thrust. A scream ripped from my throat at the painful stretch of his size and the roughness with which he fucked me. Tears sprung to my eyes, but my scream eventually faded into a string of mindless whimpers and squeals as he pounded into me.

Sasuke flipped me around so I was on my back. He kept his hand on my throat, pressing me into the futon while he propped my leg on his shoulder.

He hit locations at this angle that I had no idea existed. Partially by instinct, my nails pricked into his skin as I ran them down his back.

He fucked me even harder in return, until the only sounds in the dark room were our groans and the violent slap of our bodies against each other. My sticky walls tightened around his elongation, and Sasuke released a deep hiss as he intensified his sucking on my collarbone.

His hold tightened around my throat, causing faint spots to flicker across my vision and my body to heat up even more. The next push from him was so vicious that I gasped for air.

Even though it felt fantastic, my orgasm was still unattainable. Sasuke would slow down everytime I touched it, prolonging our intense, beautiful torture session. "Going to take all of me," Sasuke growled as his weight continued to bear down on me. A second, intense surge of pleasure shot through my body as Sasuke's fingers moved from my throat to my clit.

"How much do you need to come?" Sasuke grinned at my flesh. "How much do you need me spilt inside of you?"

I groaned back, rolling my hips in an attempt to find the necessary friction, but to no avail. He gazed down at me with sparkling red Sharingan eyes. "Use your words." Once more, with excruciating slowness, he slid into me. He played with me, nudging me repeatedly till I thought I was going to lose my sanity, and I was unable to contain my pitiful whimpers.

"Please." I stutter-talked the word.

"Please what?"

"Please allow me to enter; I would like you to do so." The utterance dissolved into a groan as Sasuke quickened his pace. When he struck that region, an electrifying surge of sensation shot through me.

"You feel so fucking good," he said. "You love my cock wrecking that tight little pussy, don’t you?"

"Yes," I exclaimed. "Sasuke, please, 'm gonna!" White-hot pleasure shot through me, and I groaned. All memories and thoughts were destroyed, leaving only numbing pleasure in their wake. Sasuke continued to fuck me, and after each climax, there was another one.

My second orgasm finally washed over me and Sasukes come filled my empty womb, and we lay there breathing heavily in the unexpected silence until his lips touched mine. His tongue sank into mine as his hand, no longer as tight around my throat, wrapped around me.

He released his hold on my throat and was staring at my lower abdomen, softly pressing. "Swelling with my child," he moaned as he pressed his lips to mine.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

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taglist :: @enouche @lovelyandproblematic

@sugu-love @why-are-you-still-awake