#tw alcohol consumption

[jupitadori]

Imagine being the new girl on campus, you’ve just moved into your dorm and haven’t met anyone yet.

Suguru and Satoru introduce themselves as your neighbours from across the hall. They invite you over for a few drinks to get to know you and suggest playing spin the bottle.

You’ve had a few drinks so you let your guard down. It lands on you first and Satoru asks who do you think is the better kisser. You tell him that you don’t know because you haven’t kissed either of them yet.

They decide they should fix that and both take take turns making out with you, Satoru is passionate and slowly slides his hand up your skirt, feeling your lacy thong. Suguru is forceful, biting your lip and grabbing your ass.

They demand to know who is the better kisser, but you can’t decide. The alcohol is taking effect and you feel giddy. Even though you can’t decide, you do know that you don’t want it to stop.

They tease you for being needy.

“I barely kissed you and I could still feel how wet you were” says Satoru.

“I wonder how wet she is since we’ve been taking turns with her” Suguru smirks.

“Why don’t we find out?” Satoru adds, a wicked gleam in his eye.

You’re speechless, your thighs clench together instinctively but then part when you realise how much you do want them to find out.

“I have an idea” says Suguru “how about we see who can make her cum the most?”

A smirk dances on Satoru’s lips “even better, first one to make her squirt wins”

Next thing you know you’re on the bed, your wet lacy panties are in Suguru’s hand as they take turns eating your pussy. You moan and writhe on the bed as their warm tongues slide up and down your dripping folds.

They laugh as you moan louder and louder with each turn they take. To shut you up, they alternate shoving their thick cocks into your mouth as the other ravishes your wet cunt.

With your lack of experience and their expert touch, it doesn’t take long for you to make a mess when you feel one of them slide their cock into your tight little cunt.

You don’t know whose it is and you don’t care. You moan like the slut you are as they spend the rest of the night ruining your hole.

You walk back to your dorm, breathless and soaked, realising you need to knock on their door tomorrow and beg for your panties back.

[rinhaler]

just had the crazy thought in the middle of trader joes🫣 bf!ino begging reader to let sukuna fuck her infront of him😵‍💫 i just know sukuna would agree to the idea so fast😭

but anyways i hope you're doing alright❤️

as soon as I read this request I went feral btw I haven't written anything this quickly in a while KGHJFLSGHSKA thank you so much for this nonnie I hope u enjoy and I hope ur doing well 💕

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), cucking, cuck!ino, coercion, dry humping, male masturbation, daddy!kink, oral m+f receiving, head pushing, fingering, calls your pussy 'she', overstimulation, vaginal sex, hair pulling, creampie, squirting.

words: 3.9k

He’s waiting.

He’s been waiting since he got to your apartment.

You and Takuma have never been coy around each other, no matter who’s around. What was meant to be a chill movie night with a few drinks and some weed has really just been you and him making out on the couch, dizzied by the alcohol and drugs coursing through your system.

And still, Sukuna has been waiting.

Waiting for his friend to ask what he’s been waiting to ask.

“I love you…” you whisper, or at least you think you do. It’s louder than intended. What was meant to be breathy love language reserved solely for your partner has garnered Sukuna’s attention, too.

And rather than your boyfriend returning your words. He looks at you, no, through you. His pink haired friend looks at him coldly out of the corner of his eye.

Waiting.

You’re bold, though. When he doesn’t speak right away, you grab his face and pinch his cheeks until his lips are puckering. His warm brown eyes gaze down at you, his concentration fully broken from Sukuna, now.

“I said: I love you, Takuma.” you repeat.

“Baby…” he grins and bites his lip before kissing you softly. “You know I love you too.” he assures you, his head lowering to kiss along your jawline. You can’t repress the gentle moan you emit as you feel his hand travel up your baggy t-shirt and hold your side just below your breast, his thumb stroking across your ribs.

“How much?” you wonder, eyes heavy and bloodshot as you wait for a response. He looks at you again, a little puzzled that you’d even ask.

“How much?” he quirks his brow. “How much do you love me, baby? Tell me… Wanna hear ya,” he smirks.

“More than anything… I’d do anything for you, Takuma. I love you s’much.” you say slowly, pridefully. Adoration interspersed with your casual tone makes his cock throb. His eyes are full as he hears you tell him with ease how much you love him.

Before he can say anything, though, Ino’s eyes stray at the sound of his friend stirring in his spot on the couch. He’s hunched over, lighter in one hand and spliff in the other. He lights it, almost too quickly, and he’s soon leaning back again. His red eyes stare daggers at Ino, his expression is unreadable, but Ino knows the intent behind his glare.

He's waiting, but he’s losing patience.

“Maybe we should go to bed early.” you hint to your boyfriend, wiggling your eyebrows at him in hopes he’ll understand your meaning.

He does.

But instead of looking excited, or interested, he looks between you and your friend. Sukuna exhales a hearty plume of smoke into the air, resting the crown of his head back onto the couch as he stares at the ceiling. The movie is of no interest to any of you, now. You want some alone time with Takuma, and Sukuna is considering leaving.

“W-Wait,” he mutters, cupping your face with both hands and searching your loving gaze. “Anything, really? You mean it?”

“… Well… yeah. I- I guess, yeah. Is something wrong?” you wonder, worry and paranoia flooding through you before you know it. You can feel your heart beginning to beat faster, until his thumbs gently rub against your cheeks. You’re instantly soothed, and further relaxed when you feel a gentle press of your boyfriend’s lips against your own.

“No, baby, nothin’. You’re perfect. You’re always so perfect f’me…” he says, kindly, and you can’t stop the cheesy grin that works its way across your face when you hear him. You lean in to kiss him again, but he pulls away suddenly. “There’s… something… I wanna do. Well, I wanna try.” he explains.

You sit up a little as you look at him, curiosity filling you. You briefly look at Sukuna, almost forgetting he's there until you hear him toss his lighter onto the coffee table.

“If you wanna fuck tonight. Maybe we can try it now…” he starts, sheepishly. His words become dry in his throat and lost in the atmosphere. You’re a little embarrassed that he’s proposing something about your sex life in front of your mutual friend, but you try and ignore his presence. You’re all high, it doesn’t really matter.

“What is it, baby?” you whisper. You close the distance between the two of you, kissing his cheek repeatedly as you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s a passionate bid to give him the confidence he needs to tell you what’s on his mind.

There’s no delicate way for him to ask you what he wants to ask. It’s so perverse, so lewd and debauched. He feels guilty for even thinking it. But it’s rotting his brain.

He keeps breathing, his words dissipating on his tongue as he finds and loses the ability to say what’s he’s dying to say.

“C’mon, baby… you can tell me.” you smile. You start to get nervous again as you can tell he’s wrestling with his thoughts. You have no idea what he could be thinking. It’s a worry, though, thinking your boyfriend has some depraved kink he’s about to spill in front of you as well as his friend.

Why is he doing this now?

“I um… fuck. I— babe, I just. I think it would be… f-fun. Uhhhh…”

“Ask her already.” a dark growl reverberates through your body as you’re once again reminded you aren’t alone. Sukuna stands to his feet, bending down to stub out his joint before he moves behind you. You gasp as you feel his fingers on your jaw forcing your head in place as he keeps your eyes on Takuma’s. “Look at your girl and ask her your dirty favour, pussy.”

Ino gulps, eyes flitting between yours and his. And still, even now, he can’t bring himself to ask. Sukuna gives him time. Plenty of time, before ultimately scoffing. You whimper a little as your head jerks to face him. His hand squeezes your face, not to dissimilarly to what you had done to Takuma moments prior. Your lips puckering as he levels his face with your own.

“He has a weird fetish, princess. He wants to see another man fuck the love of his life. Ain’t that strange?” he smirks, darkly.

You think you’ve misheard him. He lets go of your face and you snap your gaze to see Ino. He’s blushing furiously and has seemingly lost the ability to speak. He can barely even look at you. And that is enough proof, but still.

“Really?” you ask, you try your best to stay calm. It’s a little stern, but casual enough to not seem like a big deal.

“… Y-Yeah. AGH!” he yells as your hand slaps across his face, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. He looks at you, he seemed ready to yell at you until he sees tears welling in your eyes. “B-Baby? Don’t… Don’t hate me, please. I—”

“You— did you invite him here tonight for this? You told him before me… How—”

“Wait, wait. It wasn’t like that!” he stops you. “We were just, ugh, what was it? Oh, porn! We were talking about different categories and I said I’d been watching some, y’know, cuck shit. S’dumb, I’m so sorry. But I just watched it because I was curious and then I started thinking about it everyday and I thought about us trying it ‘n I just said all that shit to him when I was stoned.”

“So?” you respond. “You invited him over ‘n got me drunk and high ‘n thought I’d just say yes?!”

“No. Well… maybe… a little…” he says, voice trailing off as he thinks about the whole thing a little further. “Shit, I was scared to ask. Because it’s fucking weird and I know it’s weird. I feel like a fucking freak for this, baby. What kinda guy wants to see another dude fuck his girl? It’s weird.”

You don’t speak again for a while, letting him simmer in what he’s saying. It’s not that you are outwardly against it, but you’re not intoxicated enough to ignore how wrongly he went about this. And it’s hard to ignore Sukuna’s looming figure beside you, he’s so intimidating without even trying.

“… Please don’t hate me.” he mumbles as he stares down at his feet. “It’s been driving me crazy, y’know. Thinking about how hot you’d look like that.”

“It’s your decision.” Sukuna says, dropping to the balls of his feet to look at you again. “It’s just sex, sweetheart. I can make you feel good, ‘n you’ll make me feel good. And I think it’ll make that perverted boyfriend of yours feel good, too.”

You look into his eyes as he speaks. It’s not like you’ve never thought of it before. He’s a giant, he’s huge and he has the aura of a man who knows how to fuck. You aren’t dissatisfied in your sex life with Takuma in the least. But everyone has fantasies, right? Everyone has thoughts on what they might be missing out on.

“B-Baby? Please. Just once, I just wanna try it once.” Takuma tells you. It’s a little pathetic how desperate he sounds. And for some twisted reason, it turns you on. How he’s begging to see you receive pleasure at the hands of another man.

You’ve somehow managed to romanticise this depravity. Because now, you feel good about this. Whether intentional or not, Takuma Ino has made you feel like a goddess.

And so, dumbly, you find yourself nodding. His eyes light up, confusion, elation, and unadulterated lust flows through him. You’re caught off guard as Sukuna cups your face with one hand, capturing your lips in a searing kiss before grabbing under the bend of your knee and letting it roam up the back of your thigh.

“N-Now?!” you ask in a panic, breaking the kiss before he returns it once more.

“Yes. Now.” Sukuna tells you, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the couch he had been sitting on. You’re straddling him, rolling your hips unashamedly as he smirks into your kiss. “You’re soaked, princess.” he says. It’s quiet, but loud enough for Ino to hear.

He palms himself over his sweats as he watches you both, a sultry moan leaves you as you feel rough hands squeeze the fat of your tits over your t-shirt. He tugs at your nipple, licking into your mouth as he pulls away.

“Suck daddy’s cock, baby. Heard you’re a pro.” he grins.

You shuffle off of his lap and between his legs. He goes to undo his belt before you beat him to sit. He interlocks his fingers behind his head as he watches you. He swears if he had blinked he would have missed how quickly you freed his length. Your eyes bulge as it springs out from it’s denim prison and you pull down his jeans and underwear in tandem.

He doesn’t give you any time to marvel at his gargantuan size before he’s lacing his fingers through your hair and guiding his cock to your lips. He’s massive, you feel it as each agonising inch sinks into your mouth and nudges at the back of your throat.

He moans boisterously as you struggle to accommodate him, head rolling back as he looks up at the ceiling above. He chuckles, pushing your head again and again to set a pace for himself, barely considering your lung capacity or pleasure in the least.

His eyes are heavy, lust drunk and purposeful as he looks down at you. Your own are watery and pathetic. You’re overwhelmed and yet you can’t help but chase a desperate desire to please him. You want to impress him, you want him to feel good.

You’re both reminded of your actual boyfriend’s presence when he moans pathetically. Your teeth graze Sukuna’s cock and he hisses at the sensation.

“Focus on me.” he tells you, voice gravelly and intimidating before his eyes move to look at Ino. “Are you really getting off on this? Fucking pervert. Your girlfriend’s choking on my cock and you look like you’re gonna blow your load. Y’think that’s normal?”

“S-Shut up.” he moans softly, the all too familiar sound of sticky, aroused skin fapping fills the room.

You feel your cunt grow wetter by the second. The intense knowledge of everything going on in the room is sending your self esteem into overdrive. You’re doing it for Takuma. And you want to make Sukuna proud.

“Here…” Sukuna grabs his phone. You panic as you see him point it down at you, unwillingly to let him keep video evidence of this twisted transgression. He holds your head down with ease with his free hand, and it’s all you can do to focus on breathing through your nose. You begin to calm as you feel another phone ring behind you. “Answer.” Sukuna instructs.

Ino scrambles to answer the incoming call, moaning further when he sees the perfect first person view of your mouth stuffed full of his best friend’s dick.

“Give him a show baby, he likes it.” Sukuna growls, cupping the crown of your head as he allows you to bob your head at your own pace. “You really are a good little cocksucker. Might have to keep you. Doesn’t she look pretty, Ino?”

“S-So pretty, baby. Fuck, look at ya…” he breathes, slowing down on his own pleasure so he doesn’t cum too fast.

“Look at her squirming, think she’s enjoying all the attention. Is your little pussy dripping ‘cause you’re our pretty star tonight?” he smirks. And at that, you nod. You can’t help yourself. Despite you being the one to please him, you’re completely at his mercy. “Mmm, think I wanna see for myself.” he tells you, yanking you away from his length by your roots.

You gasp, breathless with an aching jaw as you get used to your mouth being your own again. He coos at you, red eyes softening as he admires your drool soaked face.

“Look at what I’ve done to your girl.” Sukuna says as he manhandles you.

He picks you up and turns you so that you’re able to make eye contact with your boyfriend. Ino looks up from his phone so he can observe you with his own eyes. Your eye makeup has streaked beautifully down your cheeks. Your lips are swollen and dampened with slick drool and precum. He has to stop touching himself completely when he looks into your shimmering eyes. They’re filled with water and emotion, the sight of you is better than he ever imagined.

“Say thank you, sweetheart.” Sukuna commands and he firmly grips your jaw. “Gotta say thank you to your boyfriend for letting you have the time of your life with me.”

“T-Thank you, Takuma… thank you.”

“Aw… you’re both a little pathetic, hm? But that’s okay.” Sukuna snarls as he picks you up again, tossing you onto the couch like you’re nothing. You’re a weightless object for him to do with as he pleases. “Let me see you, princess. I want a taste.” he explains. Soon enough, your panties and shorts disappear from your body and he’s face to face with your bare cunt.

He grabs your hand, forcefully shoving his phone into it so you can show your boyfriend what he’s doing.

It’s humiliating.

Your whole body runs hot as he loops his arms around your thighs and buries his face between your legs. A powerful moan rips through you as he gently pulls up the hood of your clit and targets it with a darted tongue.

Tears spill over your eyes as you try to close your legs, much to his dismay, and he pries them apart with ease. He doesn’t let up, your whole body trembling uncontrollably as he continues his assault.

You hold the phone with one hand as the other cards through his pretty pink locks. And at that, he moans. The timbre of his voice vibrates against your skin.

“B-Baby?” Ino speaks, quietly, “Feel good?”

“Fucking. Amazing.” you announce, unashamedly. Your toes curl as you feel two thick fingers delve into your hot cunt. It’s too much. You feel like you might burst as his fingers curl and you try desperately to escape the onslaught. But one muscular bicep around your thigh is more than enough to keep you exactly where he wants you.

“You’re staying right here, sweetheart.” he tells you casually before looking up at you. “You won’t cum if you run away from me.”

“Hnnnng, fuck.” you respond, embarrassingly. All semblance of thought leaves you in the form of slippery slick pooling out of your cunt as he finger fucks you relentlessly. He smirks as he watches, slurping up your juices with obscene satisfaction.

“Pretty little pussy, she’s flutterin’ for me. Just cum for daddy, know you wanna.” he grins.

You’re barely able to think as he immediately swipes his tongue over your throbbing clit. His fingers work in tandem to hammer against your g-spot before you begin to squirm uncontrollably.

“Fu- nngh! D-Daddy! Haah~!” you cry out repeatedly, chanting a slew of daddy’s before you feel your body start to crumble and fall slack. You pant heavily, the phone you were holding a distant memory as the only thing on Ino’s screen is a shot of the ceiling.

He’s holding back, again. Ogling your body as he sees sweat droplets beading on your skin. Your entire body is relaxed, calm. You’re wholly spent and satisfied for the evening, you do nought but watch Sukuna repeatedly pepper kisses on your inner thighs.

“You look happy,” he tells you as he looks up.

“You’re… you’re good at that…” you say, finally feeling shame wash over you as you realise you just came on your boyfriend’s best friend’s face. “That was—”

“Was? Didn’t say we’re done, baby.” he cuts you off. Before you can ask what he means, he’s pulling you onto the ground with him by your wrist. “I didn’t get to cum yet, did you really think we were through here?”

“S-Shit, sorry!” you gasp, utterly powerless as he bends you over the coffee table. Even if your body wasn’t so relaxed, you’d still be a ragdoll to him.

“He needs to see your face while I ruin this beautiful cunt.” he smirks, parting your legs with his muscular thigh. He tuts as he observes your form, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “What is this, baby? I know no one else has made you cum that hard but you need to look pretty when you have an audience.” he explains.

He pulls your hair aggressively until your back is in a beautiful arch. Your fingers grip desperately onto the sides of the coffee table, your tits squashed against the cool glass breaks your body temperature as you’re unsure of whether you’re freezing cold or boiling hot.

Your body soon flushes again as you feel Sukuna guide his heavy tip to your entrance. He teases your hole repeatedly, the sticky tacking sound is the only thing that can be heard; alongside Ino’s self-pleasure.

He grunts as he slams into you with a powerful thrust. Your eyes cross and you feel as though you could pass out from the pressure brewing in your core.

“Fuuuuuuck, tiny princess cunt’s a tight li’l hugger.” he tells you before holding onto your hips with a bruising grip. Your ass and thighs ripple with each brutal deliverance from his desperate humping.

This, now, isn’t for you. If you feel pleasure, that is a bonus. You feel it in the way he savagely pounds into your wet walls, you are his toy that is designed to make him cum.

“You look so pretty, babe. D-Does it feel good? Y’look so fucked out.” Ino smirks, biting his lip as his fist becomes a blur. “Can you— describe it for me, baby.” he requests.

“Unfff, f-fuck. He’s— I feel— him— here.” you tell him before pointing to your throat. He lets out a guttural moan at that, and if your mind wasn’t already so hazy, you’d be amazed that he was truly getting off on this.

“Glad he’s making you feel s’good, babe. Knew he would…” he trails off. “Are you gonna let him fill you up?” he asks, face dropping a little as he hears a scoff from Sukuna.

“Tch. Sick bastard.” he says in response. He bends over, his sweat coated skin presses into your back and he continues to desperately hump into you like a primal animal. He moves your hair aside as he sensually bites and kisses your earlobe. You could just about cum when you feel him lick the skin behind your ear, tangled with an amalgamation of eager, determined moans. “He wants me to breed you like an animal. Would ya like that, princess? Can daddy fill your precious little pussy up?”

You nod, quickly. Your vision blurry as you think you might be genuinely about to pass out from the pleasure. You’re utterly blinded by it. The feeling of his cock bullying itself into you and repeatedly kissing your sweet spot is like no other feeling you’ve experienced before.

And still, even in your cock drunk mind, you can’t help but wonder how you’ll ever be able to live without feeling him inside of you again.

He pulls your body up with his own, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing just enough to keep you barely conscious. You’re pointlessly grabbing for anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. His free hand rubs your clit vigorously, and you know you’re soon to be a goner.

“That’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl, milk daddy’s cock jus’ like that. Juuus’ like that. So tight f’me, mmmpf, so fucking tight for me. Perfect pussy’s not gonna let me go. Gonna cum with me, yeah? Come on, cum on daddy’s cock, make a big mess. Umpf, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

He practically roars, feeling not an ounce of shame as he fucks his thick, heavy load into you. You’re no better, though, whining pathetically as a waterfall gushes from between your legs for the first time in your life. It arouses Ino more than anything ever has in his entire life, so at that, he finally let’s go. Coating his hand in shimmering white globs as he watches Sukuna forcefully make out with you through your high.

Sukuna pulls you back with him as he sits on the couch with you on his lap, pulling out of your hot, sullied cunt as the mixture of clear liquid and pearlescent sperm drips from your throbbing hole. He slaps his cock against your clit, your entire body jolting with each repeated smack.

“Did you— fuck, baby, that was perfect… Did you have fun?” Ino asks, almost breathlessly as he wipes the mess from his hand on his sweatpants.

Sukuna looks up at your near lifeless body, you don’t even have the energy to look at either of them let alone speak. He smirks, at that, before turning his attention to Ino.

“Don’t think she’s ever been fucked so good in her life,” Sukuna grins. “I don’t think you’re gonna have a girlfriend for much longer.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[ktsumu]

RESOLUTIONS (this year is different) tw: alcohol consumption

This year, you wait for January in an apartment that is packed full.

You’re familiar with everyone, for the most part, all people who have played with Ushijima over the years, all people you’ve watched in one jersey or another. Everyone is laughing, happy — even Wakatoshi himself who, normally quite reserved, laughs with one of his teammates, a glass half-full in hand.

This year is different, you tell yourself. 

You know that, whenever you're all drunk enough to call it a night, you’ll call a cab and go home, probably kiss on the way there. He’ll lean on the bathroom counter and giggle while you smear your makeup away with a wipe, then take it from you and do it himself. He’ll be so much worse at it, but he’ll be gentle, and you’ll let him.

This year, you’re going to let yourself be loved. You’re excited to let him.

You watch Wakatoshi from your place on the couch, a small smile on your face. Happy looks good on him; he’s handsome when he’s free. His smile gives him lines around his mouth, his eyes crinkle. His laugh is saccharine. 

He doesn’t notice you’re watching, either, it’s not often he does. It’s not hard to be subtle — your eyes typically find him, anyway, golden boy wherever he goes.

This year, I’m going to let myself be loved.

You met him years ago, sort of in a situation like this. You were both in a bar in Tokyo, you think, and he stuck out like a sore thumb; freshly twenty and new to this, surrounded by teammates who made it obvious he’s never been to a bar before.

They also made it obvious he was new to a lot of things, likely why they made it so obvious in how they were jabbing his side with their elbows, nodding to you sat a few seats down. Go talk to her, she’s totally into you, she’s pretty!

(He didn’t even talk when he first sat down — you offered him a shot he probably needed and he took it.)

The rest is history.

It feels weird to think about going home. Home. You live with him, the bills get paid. He has smile lines and stretch marks on his shoulders. He’s going to take your makeup off for you because he’s seen you in every way you come. You have a house and you have a home — your friend said she thinks he might propose this year.

Growing pains are scarier when they’re not in your knees.

You only notice he’s moved when the couch sinks beside you. Wakatoshi sits next to you, a close-lipped smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he rests a hand on your thigh.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and it’s just the two of you.

You look over his face, his flushed cheeks. You smile, too. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Wakatoshi is gentle when he guides you towards him, his hand on your nape, kissing you like you’ve never done it before. He tastes like Tennessee, and like a resolution. 

This year, I’m going to kiss him more.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Whatever dread you carried before, it’s going away now.

“You are?” you tease, pulling back to really look at him. An anonymous hand walks by and ruffles his hair, like he’s scoring his first girl, and carries on. He doesn’t look up. 

“Very.”

“Mm,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I guess I’m glad I’m here with you, too.”

“I mean, I would hope so.”

“Hah,” you snort, “I’m excited to go home, too.”

He scoffs, as if he isn’t typically the reserved one; as if he wasn’t the one you had to convince to make a show here. “You want to get out so soon?”

“What, you’re not excited to deal with me at home?” you giggle, craning your head to look up at him. “Not excited to spend, like, a fat hour getting ready for bed?”

He snickers again, taking a sip of his drink. He squints like he drank it too quickly. 

“Like last year?”

“Yup. Except, I don’t know about the last part. I’m gonna pass out the second I hit the mattress, ‘Toshi.”

“That’s okay, I’ll tuck you in.”

Your chest warms, and you both laugh. One of you starts it, but you don’t remember who.

“You’re gonna tuck me in and take my makeup off, huh?”

“Like last year,” he confirms. “And get you water — get us both water,”

“Mm, you’ll need it, big guy.”

“I am fine.”

“Yeah, I know. As long as you can see where my face is, that’s good enough for me.”

“I can find it blind,” he says simply, smoothing your hair back and out of your face. “But yes, I can see it fine.”

You smile all crooked — he tilts his head like he wants to see it upright. 

“We’re gettin' older, huh ‘Toshi?”

“That is how years work, yes.”

“Going home,” you say; your thoughts are all out loud. “Going to bed.”

He smiles — he loves it. “Unless you want to stay out?”

“No, no, I want to. I’m just,” you take a deep breath, “thinking. This’ll be how many years?”

“Not enough,” he says simply. “I wanna do this forever.”

“Hah, well, I have no doubt your body could sustain years of New Years Eve parties—”

“I meant going home,” he interrupts. “Taking off your makeup, getting you water, and kissing you goodnight.”

Your heart swells to the point of being uncomfortable, the lump in your throat impossibly there. His hand hasn’t left your thigh, it hasn’t risen higher, it just sits there. His touch is warm like a swaddle, unmoving. It’s so familiar that you lean into it like you're being carried to bed.

Wakatoshi grins; it’s crooked and you tilt your head to see it upright. “Every year, I think I love you a little more.”

(The dread you had is gone now — why you ever had it, you don’t know for sure.)

This year is different, you tell yourself. This year, you’re gonna grow.

There’s a cheer throughout the room, all this laughter becoming a dull muffle when the room seems to reach the sound capacity the little space has. There’s kazoos, glass clinking, goofy hats falling to the floor — people are singing:

“Happy new year, love,” he murmurs, and he captures your lips again.

This year, I’m gonna grow.

I’m gonna let him love it, and maybe I’ll love it, too. 

[lees-chaotic-brain]

this is for your event 🗣️🗣️

here me out.. gojo fic abt the song tell your girlfriend by lay banks. something like having a crush on gojo and he likes reader too but reader and gojo are with other people. idc who readers boyfriend is🫣

WC: 1.7k

CW: alcohol consumption (all characters of age), swearing, cheating (see above ask for details), female pronouns (reader referred to as girlfriend), not beta read AT ALL, reader is a bit of a crybaby lol

Note: thanks for sending an ask in emi!!! also, this song is fire i was literally jamming the entire time i was writing. also, sorry if you wanted this to be more true to the vibe of the song. i kind of interpreted it my own way and rolled with it lmao

listen to this while reading

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

You loved your boyfriend, right? You had only been dating four months, but you wouldn’t have dated someone if you didn’t have feelings for him. Sure, he could be a little aloof, and a little rude, but he had his moments when he was sweet and caring. So why did you find yourself thinking of someone else?

During the day when the sun was out and you were thinking rationally you could convince yourself that you truly cared for him, but at night under the low lighting of the bar all bets were off. When you were a few shots past tipsy and your thinking was slowed, why did another face keep coming to mind.? 

Initially, I wouldn't do this

Hennessy pourin' and shit gettin' fluid

And you never intended to cheat. And you definitely never intended to fall for your best friend who was also dating someone else. But when you spent time with him, or when he shot a flirtatious wink from across the room he ignited a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. A swarm of butterflies that went into hibernation when you were around your boyfriend.

You knew it was wrong, that you shouldn’t feel the way you did, but with the heavy beat of the bass coursing through you and cognac warming your insides your traitorous heart finally decided what it was Gojo Satoru made you feel. Desire. And…love. Oh shit, that wasn’t good.

Suddenly feeling a bit ill, you waved your concerned friend off and staggered outside to get some fresh air. Taking deep gulps of fresh air, you stepped into an alley to get some privacy so you could collect your thoughts. You wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to ward off the chill of the night seeping through the thin fabric of your clothes.

As you stand there shivering, your thoughts are interrupted by a warm jacket being wrapped around your shoulders. Spinning around, you find yourself face to face with the one person you absolutely did not want to see at the moment. Confronted by the appearance of your best friend, you can’t help but start crying. It’s stupid, you know, but as soon as you lay eyes on him the shock of your realization wears off and your emotions kick in.

“Oh my god, hey, are you okay?” He panics, grabbing your shoulders and peering into your face concerned. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong??”

His care only serves to make you cry harder. Why? Why did he have to be like this? Couldn’t he just be a bad friend and ignore you? It would be so much easier that way. Unsure what to do, he pulls you into a hug, patting you on the back.

“Hey. It’s okay. I got you. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” You can't take it anymore. You both are dating other people, and you are definitely finding too much comfort in his arms. Pushing him away, you avert your gaze.

“You, okay? You’re my problem. Can you just leave me alone please?”

His brow furrows. “What do you mean ‘me?’ Did I do something? Also, I’m not leaving you outside by yourself at this time of night. Please, can’t you just talk to me? Whatever I did I-”

“I just realized I’m in love with you, okay?!” Your voice rings out in the stillness of the alley, and you clap your hands over your mouth, horrified. “Wait, I-”

You’re cut off by him gently taking your face in his hands and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and sweet; filled with years of longing and suppressed feelings pouring from each of you. It feels like home. It feels like love. It feels right, but you know it isn’t. Pushing him back, you stare at him wide-eyed, your chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“What…what was that?”

We was just friends, but then came in Cupid

The tension was buildin', we had to pursue it

“I like you too.” He blurts in lieu of answering your question. Then he pauses and corrects himself. “Actually I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

Unsure of what to do or say, you just start laughing, because the two of you were idiots. You were best friends who supposedly knew everything about each other. Except for the fact that you were each in love with the other, apparently. Oh my god you were in love with your best friend and he was in love with you. Your laughter became tinged with hysteria as you remembered that you had a boyfriend and he had a girlfriend. 

Tears filled your waterline. “Oh my god Toru what are we doing? I have a boyfriend!! And you have a girlfriend! We can’t be doing this…”

“Why not?” He gently cups your face in his palms and brushes your tears away with his thumbs. “Break up with your boyfriend. Be with me. My girlfriend isn’t a problem. She’s known about my feelings for you from the start. She’s in love with someone else too and we’ve just been using each other as a distraction. There’s nothing in our way.”

Standing in that alley with his vivid blue eyes on yours, you couldn’t help but believe him. What if he was right. What if the two of you really were meant to be?”

What it's been with us this whole time

Taking a deep breath, you step back, and out of his reach. If you were going to think about this rationally, you couldn’t be so close to him. You push your hair back out of your eyes and tilt your head back. He watches you from where he is, knowing that you need space to sort out your emotions and thoughts. After a few minutes you turn back to him.

“Alright. The first thing I’m going to do is break up with my boyfriend and apologize. After that, I’m not sure. I don’t want to make you any promises, because I’m not really sure of anything. The only thing I know is that I won’t be able to live with myself if I don't break up with him, because he doesn’t deserve to be hurt or deceived. Okay?”

“That’s fine.” Satoru says simply, looking at you with so much affection it hurts. “I’ve waited for you so long, a little while longer isn’t going to do me any harm.”

Your eyes soften. “Thanks. Now, I’m going to head back in, okay?” He steps aside, allowing you to pass. Heading back into the party, you feel nauseous, but you head up to your boyfriend.

Because if you ever want to be with Satoru, your relationship can’t start with deception.

'Cause I don't wanna live a lie, lie, lie

An hour and one extremely difficult conversation later found you sitting on a park bench with your head in your hands crying. Surprisingly, your now ex-boyfriend had been very understanding and kind about it. While he was clearly hurt and holding back tears, he had told you that he just wanted you to be happy, and that he was okay with it.

After reassuring you that he wasn’t angry, he hugged you one last time, wished you well, and walked away. Unable to stop crying, you were overwhelmed by a sense of relief, but at the same time guilt. So you had told your boyfriend. What now?

Should tell my boyfriend what I been doin'

The weeks after your breakup were tough. You told Satoru you needed time to yourself, because even though you logically knew that you shouldn’t feel bad, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. You felt like if you started dating him now, it would be unfair to your ex, and that you should at least wait a little while.

You also discussed the matter of his girlfriend, and decided that it was okay for him to remain with her until you were ready, as the two of them were friends and he was helping her make her crush jealous. You didn’t mind him helping her, especially since you were making him wait and overcomplicating things.

You told Gojo as much, and decided that for the time being the two of you would remain friends until you were ready. You just needed a little time to figure yourself out. But you knew that you wanted to be with him. Just not right that second.

Took a break, had to focus on some me time

We can keep it low-key for the meantime

A couple months passed, and you went on with your life. Everything was normal, and you tried to push your thought of Satoru away, preferring to procrastinate on talking to him as long as possible. 

Until one night, when you were cleaning your room and found a box of photos from your high school days with him. Going through them, you felt a sense of nostalgia, and affection. And suddenly you missed him. You missed him so bad it hurt. You needed him by your side, and you needed him as more than a friend.

Hit by this revelation, you sat there for a moment, stunned, before leaping up and grabbing your car keys. Driving well above the speed limit, you rushed to his house and banged on his door. Was it sometime after midnight? Yes. Did you really care? No.

You heard his groggy voice say something about waiting one moment, then the door swung open. And there he stood, right in front of you in all his sleepy glory. But as soon as his eyes landed on you they widened and all traces of sleep disappeared from them.

“[Y/N]! What are you doing here? It’s-” You interrupt him, tears already pouring down your face as you beam up at him.

“I love you. I’m ready to be your girlfriend now.”

Go tell your girlfriend that I'm your girlfriend (oh, oh)

[fuwushiguro]

I. NEW ME!

CHAPTER SUMMARY : after a year out of the spotlight following a traumatic event, you’re about to take your first step back into it on a popular talk show. your whole team is counting on you to be perfect; but nobody is seeking perfection more than you.

WARNINGS : 18+ only, past trauma, mental health struggles, alcohol.

WORDS : 2.3k.

notes: loosely based off ‘The Idol’ which we all know is trash but I wanted to make my own (and hopefully more entertaining) version!

               MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

“Are you sure about this? I know you feel like you’re gonna let everyone down if you don’t start putting yourself out there again, but—”

“Yuuji.” you interrupt him, grabbing his hand and smiling at him. There’s not a single ounce of sincerity in it. And if there’s anyone who’s going to notice, it’s Yuuji. He knows you better than you know yourself. “It’s fine, really.” you do your best to assure him.

The crushing weight of disappointing your entire team is heavy on your shoulders. As much as you’d like to run away, to hide, to cry… you stand firm.

“Alright…” he sighs, returning your insincere smile right back to you. He’s worried, of course he’s worried. But Lord knows you don’t need him putting any doubts in your mind, not now. You’re doing that enough for yourself. What you need now is positivity. Faith and belief that despite what you’ve been through, you can do this.

“Okay, two minutes to go, are you ready?” your manager, Taylor, asks you quickly. Before you can answer, there are more words spilling from her lips like it’s out of her control. “We love you, but please do not fuck this up.” she reminds you before walking away to tend to something else.

Your eyes turn glossy as your cheeks fill with air. You quickly exhale as you fan yourself, doing all you can to make sure the sudden appearance of some tears won’t roll over your lashline and ruin your makeup.

Just then, Yuuji grabs you by the shoulders, forcing you to face him.

“Listen to me.” he starts. “You’ve got this.”

You’ve been locked in your bedroom with a bottle of champagne since the interview. It went well, apparently, according to your team. And yet… for some reason, you feel dead inside. The sounds of cheers and celebrations can be heard throughout the house, and all you can do is drink your champagne directly from the bottle.

“Hey… can I come in?” you hear Yuuji ask sweetly from the other side of the door. You get up, walking to unlock the door and let him in. Your smile finally finds its way back to your face when you see him holding a pizza box. “Getting a pizza through here in one piece with a house full of drunk people shoulder be a new Olympic sport.” he grins and laughs a little.

“Very impressive, Yuuji.” you agree with him, you wait for him to enter and then quickly lock the door behind him. “I don’t actually remember agreeing to a party?” you confess.

“Taylor mentioned it. And… well, you know Taylor.” he reminds you. “Everyone thought it would look good for some reason… not sure if I agree with that but they never listen to me anyway.”

“Or me.” you chuckle, taking a slice as you sit beside him on top of the bed. “I’ve been watching the interview on repeat…” you go to grab the remote, but he takes it first.

He presses play, settling comfortably against the headboard as he pulls a slice for himself. You get close to him, he’s always so warm. And when you’re always so cold, it’s nice to be with him, despite the fact it always ends up in sibling-like fights when you press your freezing feet against him to make him jump. Though it isn’t on your mind right now. You’re worn out, defeated, and you can’t believe he actually wants to watch this.

You weren’t embarrassed to watch yourself when you were alone. It was more like analysis. Seeing what you did right and what you could improve on. The pressure of being perfect is enough to drive anyone insane. But after this, after everything, you know you have no choice but to be perfect.

The sound of your voice carries through the room as you laugh with the host as you talk. Yuuji is smiling softly as he observes, like he’s proud of you.

“You’ve got a new movie coming up, right?”

“Uh… yeah! Kinda, we’re starting filming in two weeks.” you smiled, and it was genuine. You were lapping up the way that the audience cheered at each and every word you said. Whether it be sincere or out of pity, it didn’t matter. You felt truly adored after worrying no one would remember you.

“You’re working alongside some big names, I’m sure you’re excited! Tell me a little about the movie.”

“Yeah, right! I’m the lead but I’m working with Megumi Fushiguro…” you pause perfectly to allow the audience to cheer at the name drop. There are a few wolf whistles too. “We’ve worked together before; I love working with him because he’s so talented and nice. He’s always super serious on set but between takes he’s a total sweetheart.” you giggled as you reminisce on the last film you worked on together.

“I love Megumi too we’ve had him on the show a few times.” the host smiled, agreeing. “Now I do recall dating rumours for you two…” they announced and looked to the audience, earning a slew of ‘oooh’s’ and laughter. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“No comment.” you wink, “No, but seriously, I’m focused on my career right now and I know Megumi is too. We’re professionals!” you laughed.

“Alright, alright.” The host laughed too. “The movie’s called ‘Assemble’, leaves a lot to the imagination, wanna tell me more about it?”

“Sure! It’s a horror, which is new for me. I know a lot of people don’t take horrors seriously, but I’ve always wanted to be a scream queen and I’m really excited to sink my teeth into a role like this. I don’t wanna say too much; I don’t think I’m allowed.” you laughed a little more awkwardly to try and placate the host and the audience.

“A horror, wow! I wouldn’t have expected that after what you went through last year.” the host spoke so casually. And at that moment, you think everyone watching could feel the way the air knocked out of your lungs. You began to fiddle with your fingers and look down at your lap as you considered what you should say.

You had never felt so small.

Not since it happened.

“Um… y-yeah. I mean… Like I said I’ve— I’ve wanted to do a horror for a long time. And things lined up well.” you nodded. “We have a great director and script. An amazing cast who I can’t wait to work with… It’s gonna be something special. I can feel it.” you told them, and the silence lasted a beat longer than you wanted it to, you couldn’t help but continue to speak. “I don’t want what happened to define me… It’s hard to talk about even though it was a year ago. But I’m more than what happened to me. I’m not the same person anymore, but I’m looking forward to learning who the new me is.”

You sniffle, hearing yourself say that. Really hearing it. You’ve played the clip so many times but that is the first time you’ve really heard yourself. It sounds so much more gallant than it really is. Because in truth, you’d go back to the old you in a heartbeat. You’d love the option to rewind to last year and change everything that happened.

Of course Yuuji noticed you starting to cry instantly, pausing the TV and putting an arm around you.

“I know you’re still struggling… maybe you should try therapy again.” he suggests.

“Maybe,” you sniff. “I just think it’s like… survivors’ guilt?” you tell him. “And I miss my dad so much. If I could trade places—”

“Don’t do that.” he chastises you. “I wish none of it happened, b-but… it did. And you’re doing great and I’m proud of you. And I know you don’t think so, but you crushed that interview.” he assures you. You smile at him, melting into his arms.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Yuuji.”

“Yeah, you’d never find another assistant as hard-working and good looking as me. You’d be doomed.” he grins, laughing a little as he speaks. You join in, finally deciding to wipe your tears and pull yourself together. “Let’s watch something else. Something… fun.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

You wake up the next morning, alone in the bed. Yuuji has tidied the room already and he’s opening your curtains for you. He laughs as you groan, the light burning your retinas. You sit up as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Morning…” you grumble.

“Hey, I slept in my room by the way, don’t worry.” he tells you. “Everyone’s downstairs.”

“I’ve been off for a year and it wasn’t enough rest to prepare me for these hectic days again.” you sigh. “I didn’t know I had stuff to do today…”

“Uh… yeah, we’re doing a photoshoot here this afternoon. Makeup is coming in… an hour. Same with wardrobe, I think.” he tries to remember. “I left my phone in my room but I’ll go get it, Taylor wants you downstairs, like, now.” he reminds you.

You manage to pull yourself out of bed and put on a robe over the mismatched bra and panties you fell asleep wearing. The sight of you hungover and imperfect makes Taylor sigh as you come down the stairs. “You look gorgeous. Come sit.” she speaks, though you know she thinks otherwise. You slowly approach and she guides you outside to sit on the patio with her and the rest of your team.

“We want you to know how happy we are with your interview yesterday. It was perfect, really perfect.” your publicist tells you, making sure to butter you up as much as he can before moving on. “This is just the start though so we need to make sure it’s full steam ahead from now on.”

“You’re doing a shoot for Elle here this afternoon. You’ll get to show off the new place, talk a little about your recovery blah blah you know the deal.” Taylor speaks rapidly. “We just want you to know we’re all here for you for whatever you need to get through this transition back into the spotlight. It’s gonna be tough but we know you can do it.” she assures you.

“Thanks.”

“We all know perfection isn’t real, but, as close as you can get to it would be… well, perfect.” she adds. “So we’ll go over what you can and can’t discuss before the interview and—”

“Anyone order a big ass bouquet of flowers?” Yuuji shouts from inside, his voice booming through the house and out to the patio. Everyone stares as he signs for them and brings them from the front door all the way to you. He puts them down in front of you so that you can read the card.

Welcome back — love M x

You smirk as you keep the card close to your chest. Everyone is waiting with bated breath to hear who they’re from so the conversation can be over and they can get back to preparing you for this afternoon.

“I need to use the bathroom… don’t stop on my account.” you smile as you stand up. You pick up the flowers and hurry inside before anyone can object.

“Who were they from, Yuuji?” Taylor asks, which only earns him a shrug in return.

The house is full of liars on days like this. Taylor lied about you looking gorgeous just as easily as you lied about needing the bathroom. But neither of you are as good at lying as Yuuji. He knew damn well the flowers were from Megumi.

He just thinks you deserve a little time for yourself.

You don’t care that everyone can see you inside leaning against the bar in your lounge as the FaceTime dial rings and rings. There’s a real smile on your face that you cannot seem to wipe off your face as you gush over the fact he sent you flowers. The biggest bunch of flowers you’ve ever seen.

“Hey you.” he smiles, shirtless in his bed as he answers. The sharpness of his jaw and his pronounced collarbones remind you just how handsome he really is. “It’s been a little while, you okay?”

“I just got your flowers…” you tell him as you show him. “They’re stunning, thank you.”

“No problem, I saw your interview. How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I’m good, yeah. Getting lots of praise so I can’t complain.” you nod, leaning on the bar again. “I didn’t get you in any trouble for what I said, did I?” you wonder, he shakes his head which is a huge relief.

“It was just a joke so, no, no trouble at all. I was in London for a week, but I’m back now. I’m in a hotel.”

“Oh, really? Why aren’t you at your place?” you ask, curiously.

“I was gonna go home but I got warned there was paparazzi waiting for me, so I came here.” he explains. “I was thinking you could come over and run lines with me later.” he smirks as he gets out of bed. He’s walking, and you realise when he switches on a light he’s in the bathroom.

You can’t help but smirk, too, knowing what running lines will likely lead to.

“Um… I’m pretty busy today.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure you can make the time since we’re both professionals.” he tells you as he turns on the shower. He always finds a way to make you smile. And knowing he really watched your interview is making you grin from ear to ear.

“Well, I guess I can make some time tonight.” you reply, giggling as you see his cheeks flush a little red at your answer.

“Good. Good girl, then I’ll see you tonight.”

© 2023 fuwushiguro  

[aliteralchicken]

What I want to see is Tim, Bernard and Laura now all 21 and over decide to do the less than responsible thing and get absolutely plastered at the oblivion bar

[bitchkay]

Dance all night♡

~Zev Avari

CW: Modern AU, suggestive, club setting–I've never actually been to a club, alcohol consumption, sexual themes, non explicit smut language, self indulgent asf, written with myself in mind but no gender specific pronouns used or explicit descriptors, implied fem alignment but.. only cus of a more fem presentation but otherwise fuck it here *slap* sexy dress

Word count: 1706

Rating: Mature

Note: there are multiple YouTube links throughout for the songs playing in the background or when music is mentioned yk to set the vibe, anyway I'm gonna make a Zev playlist eventually

Was it a good idea to sneak off without permission? Maybe not but you needed a break. Surely everyone would understand, right?

Making it past security you're met with the scene you haven't been in quite a while. It wasn't incredibly crowded, which you were grateful for, but the amount of people sent a rush through your body. You were ready to have some fun tonight.

Partying alone, again probably wasn't a good idea, nor was drinking alone, it was probably depressing from the outside looking in and dangerous considering your alone, but this wasn't the first stupid idea you've ever had.

As you made your way to the bar another figure entered the club. Blond hair swept across his forehead, his ends tipped with red, the man walked with confidence weaving through the crowd.

You ordered a drink letting the tension in your shoulders fall. Loosening up you allowed yourself to relax, forgetting about everyone that's stressed you out up until this point.

He saw you from across the room, intrigued by you. That dress did you well he'll admit, but he couldn't help but think how it would- no, stop, he doesn't know you, let him say hello first before he thinks of undressing you.

You finished your drink feeling the alcohol loosen you up in time with the start of the next song, making your way to the floor. A pair of bright red eyes followed you into the crowd, dancing by yourself. It seems like you like this song. You swayed and moved your hips to the music having a grand ole time. Your pretty little ass moved like water.

Letting loose you felt the music in your bones, dancing to your heart's content. You danced like nobody's watching, not a thing could bring you down from this high.

Your secret admirer began his approach with little thought. Without thinking he made his way to you, weaving his way through the crowd until you're right before him.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing all by themself?"

"Oh god-! You know you shouldn't sneak up on people," you said startled, holding your hand to your chest. 

"I'm sorry, where are my manners, Zev," he said, holding out a practiced hand for you.

You hesitated before giving your name, putting your hand in his, immediately thrown in a loop as he twirled you around pulling you to his chest.

"That's a pretty name, looking for a dance partner perhaps?" Zev said with a firm grip on your waist.

"Bold approach I see? … well maybe for a little bit."

"That's all I need."

-

A dance turned into two, then into a few more drinks, and now the two of you well into the night were seen in the middle of the floor bumping and grinding as you passed flirtatious remarks back and forth.

"I like the way you move~" Zev spoke close to your ear as you leaned your back against his chest.

"You're not so bad a dancer yourself," you said, reaching your hand back around his neck.

"That's not what I'm talking about."

Zev wrapped his arms around you pulling your ass against his front. He ducked his head to the side of your face til his lips brushed the lobe of your ear.

"You been shaking your ass on me all night… making it hard to remain a gentleman ya know." Spinning you around he snaked his arms around your waist, his hands moving down grabbing fistfuls of your ass.

His breath next to your ear sent shivers up your spine despite your lightly sweat coated skin.

“Nobodys asking you to be a gentleman.. Zev,” you purred his name. “Plus I'm not sure your behavior thus far would be considered gentlemanly.” a new song filled the air as you gently moved his hands up from your butt to your waist.

“You haven't rejected me yet. How’s a man supposed to hold back anyway~?” he cooed.

Onlookers would think you're dating by the way you've been attached at the hip relentlessly flirting the whole night. Dancing on each other like your trying to fuck through your clothes you really did look like a pair of lovers.

It was frustratingly hot in here, stuck like a bead of sweat, Zev held you close, it was an intimate hold like one might hold a partner. Your breaths smelled of liquor –shots you took together– Zev looked at you intently with a certain glint in his eyes and he eyed you under dim lighting, strobe lights luminating parts of your face allowing him a little bit of a better look.

“You're so sexy you know that?”

“So I've been told.”

-

“Mmh~ fuck.”

The thump of your back hitting the door echoed through the surprisingly scarce bathroom.

One strap of your dress hung off your shoulder, the first few buttons of Zevs shirt undone. You made out sloppily, disheveled as the faint sounds of music from the club bounced off the walls. Your fingers tangled in the blond strands of hair as one leg wrapped around his waist; the kiss hot and heavy as a dribble of drool rolled down your chin.

*click*

The sound of the door locking rang through your ears.

“Zev?”

“I wanna fuck you.”

Simple and straightforward sure did the trick.

Did either of you expect the night to go this way? No but who's complaining?

With one hand up the bottom of your dress, Zev trailed your neck with his lips mumbling praises as his hand creeped up your thigh.

“You were teasing me weren't you? You wanted me to approach you, hm?” he said, nibbling on your ear.

You let out a breathy sigh as you arch into him, the hand on your thigh creeping upward still. Zevs nics and kisses moved down toward your exposed collar bone kissing your soft skin holding your body against him.

"God…" you breathed, reaching to undo the rest of his buttons.

"I think you were trying to seduce me, with your pretty face and sexy dance~" Zev closed in on your face, the grip on your thigh tightening.

"And what would you do if I was~?" You went for his belt buckle as Zev went to hike up your dress leaning into your lips.

"Well that just makes things better.." Zev kissed you as his fingers traced the hem of your underwear tickling the seams.

You had his pants unbuckled just as Zev reached for your other leg lifting you in his arms, back pressed against the door, legs around his waist.

"Tell me.. do you want me to fuck right against this door?"

Just as Zevs nimble fingers inched under the fabric of your underwear an obnoxious ringing noise sounded through the bathroom.

You both froze feeling almost as if you've been caught.

"Is that.. your phone?" You asked.

Zev ducking his head into your neck responded, "Ignore it."

"What if it's important?" you said though you were also tempted to ignore it in favor of whatever you're about to get yourself up to in this bathroom.

"It's not."

"And how do you know?"

"What can be more important than this?"

You stared at him blankly and after a beat he set you on your feet reaching into his pants, answering the phone without looking at the caller id.

"Yes?... oh it's you I- …yes,, that's exactly where I am but-... no- Guy!... I'm kinda busy right now… Guyy… this is embarrassing… alright… ok later"

You off to the side fixing your makeup in the mirror noticed Zev approach you from behind.

".. did you just say Guy a moment ago?"

It can't be the root of your stresses can it?

"Yea why?" He said, slithering his hands around your waist from behind.

"Nothing… What's your last name?" You turned around to face him leaning on the counter.

Zev blinked before answering, making a connection in his head.

"Avari."

 You studied his face, noting the sharpness of his eyes. It was much easier to see in this lightning, and what a handsome man Zev was. You disregarded the similarities you found in your head in turn for admiring his features; you never really got to do that on the dancefloor, nor in your heated passion against the door. He really was beautiful. You pecked his lips without thinking, also noting their softness.

Zev watched you curiously, you started studying his face before your expressions softened and and your hands went up to his shoulders, pressing your thumb to the base of neck and following leading lines down his still open shirt. You didn't even try to hide that you were ogling him.

He stepped closer to you, crowding you against the counter before leaning towards your face.

"You wouldn't mind if I took you home with me would you? Treat you to better than a dirty bathroom, in a nice big soft bed?" Zev wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

"You make a very tempting offer. What is it? Your big brother's waiting for you at home?" you teased wrapping your arms around his neck.

Zev averted his eyes embarrassed to have to admit this. "Listen… I very much want to finish what we started. There's no way I'm leaving you here for some random ass incel to pick you up. Even if I never see you again, I want to feel your skin for as long as you'll allow it."

His hands caressed your sides, straightening out your dress. You look up at him through the mirror, a small smile on your lips.

"That sounded pretty romantic, Zev. What would you do if I said no? Not that that's something I'm going to say any way," you said leaning back on his chest.

"The devilish seductress to have caught my eye this night denying me of my pleasures, well that would be embarrassing. So if it's okay with you, I'm either taking care of you in the back of an uber or I'm fucking you in my bed. Just know either option gets me your number."

"Oh you're getting more than just my number, pretty boy."

Maybe it was a good idea to sneak off without permission after all… at least for now at least.

©bitchkay.tumblr.com

Me: the end corny as fuck *rewrites*

[inevitablemoment]

Frightober Day 23 - White Wine

Word Count: 414

Warnings: Casual drinking/alcohol consumption, past toxic relationship

Fandom: The Frighteners

Pairings: Frank Bannister x Lucy Lynskey

This is a sneak peek from a future fic entitled Beautiful Colors By The Sea, which covers Frank and Lucy's thirteenth anniversary trip to Martha's Vineyard (when their youngest child, Libby, was conceived).

Enjoy!

————————

Lucy ran her fingers through her curls-- still smelling of the beach, even under her shampoo and body wash-- as she settled on the couch, looking back at the open kitchen behind her. Frank had been so kind to do the dishes after dinner that night.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" she asked.

"No, Luce, I'm almost done anyway," he told her, settling the third-to-last dish to dry.

Once he was finished with the dishes, he took two wine glasses out of the cabinet and walked into the living room.

"How does a glass of wine sound?" Frank asked.

Lucy smiled. "Sounds lovely."

"Red or white?"

To some, it may have been an ordinary question. But to Lucy, it was so much more.

Unlike Ray, Frank had asked her instead of just assuming and then trying to make her go along with it when she tried to tell him any different than what he had wanted.

She remembered her first time drinking on her twenty-first birthday. Funnily enough, she had been studying the effects of alcohol on the liver, as well as the toll that cirrhosis took on the body, around that time. Ray had taken her out to a bar that was so loud that she could feel the vibrations of the music in her chest, and she could barely hear a word that anyone was saying.

He had ordered a beer for himself, and a glass of red wine for her.

She only had half of her glass that night, and she had gone to bed with a pounding headache (though that could have been from the music) or

Yet, every time they went out to any place that served alcohol, Ray would order red wine for her.

When she had gone to Excalibur's to have dinner with Frank and with Ray's emanation, she had taken it as an opportunity to finally order for herself. She had once tried white wine at a bachelorette party for one of the wives of Ray's friends, and it tasted much better to her-- not to mention, she hadn't felt like she was going to vomit within a few hours of only drinking half a glass.

It wasn't like she would have heard Ray protesting.

So, whenever she and Frank went out to a place that served alcohol, Frank would make his order and ask what she wanted.

And she always said the same thing.

"White wine," she answered with a smile.

[45622211111]

the description fits this sukuna drawn by @cuviz . i'll commission (they're open!) a fitting piece to this story, so stay tuned.

"…field worker of food enterprise »yūjiocha« has collapsed on the 24th of this august. health officials have shared that the 52-year-old suffered from breathing difficulties up to a heat stroke. following this shocking incident, the company has been under fire due to its low payment of field and indoor workers in rural sendai. the company's domicile in tokyo has been blocked by strikers as we speak, demanding fair working conditions. what makes citizens worry is the CEO-"

"anotha day with the same ol' stories," the taxi-driver mumbles, his head cowering under the windshield to examine the billboards.

you follow his direction and are greeted with the shiny exterior of ads over ads, raging from fashion brands to promotional thumbnails for upcoming movies. they contrast wonderfully with the grey and damp weather, the vividness too intense for this early traffic jam.

orange plus green letters of the said brand appear with a 3d animation of a rotating matcha tea packet. the name alone makes you swallow, your shoulders knotted as rain drops glide down the window. "hm, unfortunately."

"headin' there, aren't ya? ya're with dose devils?" you are quick to pick out his sarcasm but don't hold back from covering your chest with sweaty hands. "no, no! i'm here for the press conference! have to step in for my colleague, that's why."

"ya nervous?" from the backseat you hear the lightness in his tone. if he can sense it, than what's the point of trying to make excuses? really, it was a mixture of both excitement and nauseau. if it weren't for your co-worker telling you last minute, you would've had to wait for the next blue moon. it couldn't be compared to the never-ending online researches at home - this was a once in a life time opportunity for your career.

your thoughts come to an abrupt stop when the car pulls over. "kick their asses, yeah?"

"… queries are only allowed within your designated time. please refrain from shouting out," after half an hour of a protracted introduction with the help of a slide-show, the lady in glasses puts the microphone down - especially painful when your view is blocked by loads of technical equipment and tall backs of men in suits.

"good morning, shibuya network speaking here. we're interested in hearing the opinion of the CEO himself." the reporter sits down and the action builds anticipation in you with how swift this already works. nothing like what's shown on edited broadcasts or 30 pages of transcript for homework.

you raise your chin from the back of the spacious room. the two men at the podium exchange expressions. at first you don't understand their worrisome looks, until a screeching vibration echoes in the hall, as if an object is being dragged along something sharp. you squeeze your eyes open to the third person in the middle.

"you wanna hear my opinion?" your gaze dances across the room, trying to search for a reaction in the several women and men around you. have they just heard the exact same thing as you or are you caught in the sketch of some sadistic comedian?

"yes sir, your opinion."

the silence doesn't drag on for long, "of what?"

"sir, one of your worker-"

"i'm aware of that."

"after he collapsed-"

"yeah?"

"what exactly are you-"

"what are you aiming at?" a quasy feeling settles in your stomach.

"sir, what measures are you going to take?" the man finally snaps with rushed words, as anyone else would naturally do so.

"doin' as always." his face is cold, his movements solid.

"next question please," the spokesperson on the left side states.

you mouth goes dry. you recall why you've been hesitant when you got the call from your fever-plagued office partner, nobara kugisaki.

a few journalists and news outlets survey general questions relating to the company itself which makes your legs bounce with thin patience. can't they postpone these for another public gathering? at this state you weren't even sure if everyone would get a turn.

"in the last five years ryomen sukuna has held back from providing the public with clarifications on the many rumors he has been involved in… mr ryomen, would you be so kind and enlighten us?" a tall, white-haired woman sits down. some part of your brain tells you that she is grinning, although her voice has been stagnant despite some alarmed countenances on the stage.

the addressed man leans back - not without a chuckle though.

the next participant takes the mic. you are confused.

you reread your notes. is it worth asking when this conference has either denied or made fun of the press inquiries this far? you aren't one to defend gossip magazines who survive off his or anyone's questionable past, but this was too out-of-place for your own liking. simply put: it is disrespectful.

"good stories osaka, mr ryomen, please tell us about your alco-"

"we don't entertain this type of output from here on. please focus on recent activities or refrain from speaking."

you follow the white bow. "good morning, kyoto today here. sir, have you already been in contact with the victim's family? and how will you compensate your workers in the future? thank you for your cooperation." your ears perk up and you immediately cross out one scribbled line.

"that man is out of the hospital. i don't see a need to compensate anyone."

gasps and whispers spread throughout the tense air. right now, you can observe the only positive: the reporter's stance - how she confidently protrudes among the hushed outbreak, her grip on the microphone unwavering.

"so i'll take you don't intend on raising the standard of your worker's conditions anytime soon?"

"never planned to."

honestly, you aren't sure what to do when the room errupts with audible complaints and writers violently pressing down on their keyboards. "is this legal?" a reporter with a green notepad wants to know. others demand their camera men to "get everything on camera! no, zoom in!" and give them a slap on the back to get closer.

"please keep it quiet for the last contendors - if not, we are obligated to cancel this session."

your heart picks up at an uncomfortable frequency. you take deep breaths.

"from the daily press - mr ryomen, how will you deal with the recent protest in front of this very building?"

the men around him have long ago loosened their ties, sitting back in their chairs, handkerchiefs pressed against their red temples. by reading them you understand their missing courage to talk some sense into the CEO. even if, is this man capable of seeing his own faults?

"i'd like to see how long they'll drag this out - prolly not long."

the lady's arm points upward, "but sir! you are aware the people outside are your employees, right?!" it wasn't the first time during this knot garden that an interviewer has sounded like they are on the edge of insanity.

"so? there are enough volunteers who will take their places."

the woman near you sinks down without another word. your wrinkly page has ended up as a muddy ball of paper. you could theoratically get up and leave at any given time but with the cramped up space around you, you'd have to sit through this until the end.

thanks to your inner monologue you almost miss the black object pocking into your panorama.

now or never.

when you take the mic into your hand, you wince at the short self-noise. "kanagawa news… sir, i'll be brief: what's your purpose at yūjiocha?"

you can't unsee the way his knuckles push against the side of his cheek with the most uninterested glare - pierced brow not moving an ounce while you are mentally fluctuating for his answer.

"you tell me what my purpose is. you journalists love to pretend to know everything. isn't that so…"

you raise your brows. his derisive layer of throwing you and other hard-working writers into the same pot with gossipers leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

"sir, i didn't assume anything. my question is: what's your personal ambition - you don't give the impression of having a goal as the chairman of your own company." you're at loss for words by none other than your own self. from the edges of your vista you find heads sticking together. the camera directed at you doesn't go unnoticed either.

that was the harmless part - not when his eyelids drop at your comment. in a flash, you question your own professionality. are you wrong?

"oh, so now you're telling me what to do?"

you huff. "that is not my intention, sir. i'm wondering why this - when you're acting reckless with the company of your-"

"a nobody from the gutter press is seriously teaching me about my business? tch."

"next one," the spokesperson moves on.

you remember the prominent throb in your throat, blurring out the last back-and-forths until everyone, one by one, started to exit the hall. his team is the first one to do so and you fear that this belittling memory will never fully dissolve.

the next day doesn't reward you for your rookie service either. the brown-haired woman walks up and down, prior to sitting down and repeating the same pattern anew.

"…means i can't use it?"

nobara, your senior of two years with more experience in the world of critical writing supports her head with her right palm. "hold on," the corner of her mouth twists in annoyance as she analyzes the screen of her pink tablet.

"these sons of bitches have not only imposed a copyright restriction because of a goddamn power point presentation but also threaten us with cutting our money!?" it was only a question of time when she would go berserk. you weren't going to risk calming her down when she had all the right in the world - unfortunately copyrights excluded - to complain about the supergiant's legal terms.

as you found out - just hours ago after terrible five hours of sleep - the press is not allowed to share the conference recording on any platform. on top of that, the financial pressure of withdrawing advertising money is pushed down your throats in case companies release a - as quoted - smear campaign against their precious CEO.

"i don't get it… why attempt hiding it? the media already knows," you chew on your lip at the thought of having to let your very first citation go to waste. you weren't going to allow your own sweat and (almost) tears go down the drain. not when they are the ones in the wrong on so many levels.

"i'll tell you why… these pigs can't risk more damage! knuckles-deep in the mud and they still have the audacity to stop journalism! over my dead body!" the aroma of berries floats your nostrils when she raises her steamy mug.

"what's the plan?"

"(name). see this as your first main quest from your kugisaki girl herself, 'kay? WE'RE GOING TO FINISH THIS NO MATTER WHAT! EVEN IF THEY WERE TO FLOAT THIS OFFICE! those recordings aren't going anywhere!" her arm cramps up when the coughing fit returns.

you immediately begin your text, fueled with fire from her motivational speech. as your job requires, you are here in the first place because you've promised to reveal the shady side of the business world. you wouldn't want to let your partner in crime down - not when you were entrusted with this important task.

"thank you, nobara-san."

"that's the spirit, rookie. let's end those wretched capitalists! they better be grateful that i had a fever… i would've jumped them all!"

the yellowish light of your overly bright display blinds you in the shades. the blue logo of the daily press dissapears. your thumb enters the key words and urgently scrolls down the black on white.

user8653346

another nepo baby who gets away with THEIR usual egotistic IDIOCITY. we live in a rich man's world everyone!

anonymous

I'm dissapointed with the amount televison and CO publicize. Why do they downplay the traumatizing event of a victim and make traces of the protest dissapear.... inhumane. Thank you and anyone else who has covered this evil crime for us.

z.9999

Why act surprised? He has a bunch of illegal acts held against him yet he gets away!!? I'm more concerned for the people who've lost their jobs!

anonymous

threathening journalists shocks me the least... what has daddy’s company become? ヾ(´∀｀)

a notification from nobara pops up, showing screenshots of hilarious responses under other tokyo-based publications over the last days. it's quite a relief they haven't held back either.

but the happiness wouldn't last long of course.

"utahime-senpai just emailed me. (name), you can't imagine how enraged i am. meet me at the office." the green and red symbols dissapear along her name.

your heart pounds as you run down the busy streets. no time to take a bite or look in the mirror. at the crosswalk, you weigh if you should get a quick meal and later hop into a taxi or train.

the neon green window display of the convenience store finds you at the right time. after paying for food and a bottle of water you're about to run to the next station, however, the magazine stand catches your attention instead. you should sprint to your office as soon as possible yet you're curious about one thing.

you turn the pages and eventually find your own article. you quiver at the touch of the physical copy. it hasn't vanished. you let out a relieved groan and with the satisfied exploration, you flee through the automatic doors.

"i would like to have a word with the manager regarding the supply of non-updated newspaper in here."

"nobara…"

the said woman is leaning her arms against the top of her cluttered desk. without any remark you place your bag down.

her lids are shut.

minutes pass.

"these fuckers have taken down utahime-senpai's entry," striking back this early? "legal protection for copyright violation! copyright violation?! - they can't be serious!" her skin slams against the wood, twice. she lets out another yell, "gahhh!"

"she hasn't inserted the entire video material on her website," you can't find a reason why on god's green earth there should be any dilemma with her senior's article. it's not like writers aren't familiar with the rules in connection to giving credits, likewise with how and when to use correct quotations and other sources.

"ah you see, three minutes out of 2 hours crisis communication is too long! hah! how dare we forget about proprietary visuals! that half-assed presentation and ugly logo are allegedly commercialization!" she clears her throat in a dramatic manner, "now they limit distributions unless certain parts are changed. exploitation of underlying speech my ass!"

you curse under your breath. "what about us? have we exploited proprietary materials?" you cringe at the terms.

she shares the same sentiment, although now more wearisome. "that's why i've invited you over. just got a message from the pitiful sons themselves," she rolls the computer mouse with her index. "i'm not surprised anymore," she lets out. "we consider filing for legal action regarding the article written and published by your media press journalist (fn) (name) in case it is not taken offline within the next 12 hours,"

you bump into her side and continue to read out loud, "the content of the article titled »fair payment for hard labour: executive ryomen sukuna's biggest income or greatest weakness?« on the 28th of this month includes reputation-damaging conspiracy on behalf of CEO ryomen sukuna's private and professional credibility. our chief executive officer has suffered great harm to his public image in recent days through burgeoning cyber harassment and thus financial destabilization.

the usage of »[…] he's shamelessly open about his lacking empathy for his own work force.«, »[...] getting his position handed (and maintained) on a silver platter […]« and the last paragraph in your text, »what does mr ryomen intend to achieve? one can only look at the priviliged offspring with the empathy he seems to miss whenever he makes an appearance on national TV […]« are missleading accusations without official proof. throughout his career as an executive chief, ryomen sukuna has worked hard for his responsibilities no matter what grand force he is facing.

we must also remind you that mr ryomen has fairly earned his position as the heir of the late wasuke itadori. his accomplishments as a widely-accepted humanitarian representative can be reached via the links provided below. we request you take your article offline or we are duty-bound to take legal proceedings against your company »kanagawa news« and journalist (fn). we are looking forward to a quick response."

you are torn between laughing and touching grass outside. "isn't that funny?" the brunette turns to you but you shake your head in disbelief. "this must be a sick joke."

"not gonna lie, i was a click away from sharing this on my socials. should've send it to every single media channel in this damn prefecture. hah… what a circus… humanitarian? pff…"

your fingers poke at your forehead. you never had to deal with this before, not when you had already covered big names once or twice without any backlash on how angelic their respective nepo babies are. a brat disguised as a grown man… making his minions do the dirty job while he is getting payed millions for exploiting farmers and factory workers.

you can't believe it.

the difficultty of trying to swallow is suffocating. besides just giving up and doing as they preach, this is surrendering - falling down on your knees to get spared by his hierarchic superiority. is this how the rest gets treated behind the scenes? - getting their own principals deranged by some power-hungry maniacs? oh, you have truly underestimated them.

another pause befalls the small office. you see colleagues from the other department pass by the huge pane. the broken light bulb above is twitching. you huff in exhaustion. nobara should tell you what to do since any decisison today will be regretted in one way or another.

"we can't give those bastards the satisfaction," she finally breaks the silence, "let's make them shake longer and solve this pile of shit in the evening, i'm too tired for this freak show. also… we can't delete your oscar-worthy exposure just yet, can we?"

purples and oranges bleed between the mild blue patches. when you step out, the town is dipped in a desaturated shade. at least the sun isn't fully up so you can escape the heat in the confinement of your four walls.

with every step you fall deeper into a spiral: a dark abyss of humiliation and utter disgust in the face of your new reality. what wong-doing outside of wanting to serve justice have you commited? you want to scream to your heart's content but even that is prohibited to you.

damned be that disgusting man.

what makes his horrible soul deserving of power when he's shamelessly spitting at workers? just because he doesn't consider them worth his while?

your skin burns with anger whenever you revisit his responses. a nobody. you shouldn't let it get to you but experiencing it first hand leaves you with wishing him the absolute worst. your article could only express one-sixth of your honest opinion on a self-centered bitch like him. you can't wrap your head around the fact that he still stands proud as the official CEO. no consequences for him.

"ahh!"

the numbness is abruptly replaced by a mild ache in your nose.

"oh i'm sorry!" you are still busy holding your face when you catch a glimpse of your opposite. the novelty of the stranger's face feels weirdly soothing the exact moment you meet his blue orbs.

"my bad! hey, are you hurt?" his limbs spread out with a respectful distance, his concern tangible.

"it's okay!" you wave your hand, "should've looked where i go and not space out, hih," you try to lighten the situation with a chuckle. it does its wonder as he drops his long arms to his sides.

"you're from here?" you are taken back by the asudden quizzing. "uh, yes," you manage to respond back after just starting to slip by him. you are not in the mood to start a conversation with a male stranger so you stride with the same heaviness again.

"(fn) (name). i quite enjoyed reading your article. what was it again? - big executive who doesn't pay his employees?"

you throw a glance over your shoulder. should you be on high alert in his presence? who is this white-haired man and how does he know it's you? you don't have any official pictures- oh. the press conference. don't tell me he's one of his men? as expected, a pinch of fear gets in your way, yet you can't let that stop you.

"yeah, that's me. want to enlighten me to whom i owe the pleasure of speaking?" your arms stick to your body like magnets. as much as you want to appear strong, on the inside you try your best to not freak out.

white teeth manifest as he lets out a playful laugh at your irony. "huh, if you insist this early - gojo satoru," he does a slight bow which you accept with rolling eyes. what a player. "hope your majesty is in a joyful mood," he goes on. shouldn't you feel threatened like you've preached seconds ago?

"oh, don't escape me!" he launches forward and you pick up your pace. "what?!"

"but you didn't let me finish!" he puffs his cheeks out and you don't know how to reply to that. is he being serious? are you trapped in a money laundering scheme from nearby, perhaps?

"nuh uh, i don't need your money! on the contrary, give me a minute to introduce myself!" you try your best to stand your ground despite his childish antics. "you have to trust me for that though…" his index beckons you, "would you do a favour for me? - with recompensation, of course," he grins.

commissions, support: ko-fi 🍥

[aventurineswife]

College AU part II

Ok but what if reader comes home one evening (alhaitham is away for a while) and finds kaveh on his maybe 4th glass of wine so they know he is stressed...again. And while they try coax him to get some rest, kaveh in his half drunk state blurts out he likes reader.

Reader is of course stunned, but thinks they can figure it out in the morning when kaveh is better and if he remembers saying it. Just after reader tucks kaveh in, he grabs them and pulls them down next to him and cuddles them, falling asleep right then and there. Unfortunately, reader has no way out of his iron grip and falls asleep there.

Kaveh might have a mini heart attack in the morning XD just two silly idiots who are pining for each other so hard, its too comical (yes, you can end it with a more proper fleshed out confession blurted out by both at the same time, we love silly idiots in love)

“The best thing to hold onto in life is each other” | Part 2

Summary: You come home one evening to find Kaveh on his fourth glass of wine, clearly stressed from his work. As you try to coax him to get some rest, he unexpectedly blurts out that he likes you. Stunned but uncertain, you decide to wait until morning to see if he remembers. After tucking Kaveh in, he unexpectedly pulls you down beside him, cuddling you tightly as he drifts off to sleep. Trapped in his embrace, you eventually fall asleep too.

Tags: Kaveh x Reader, Modern AU, College AU, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Lighthearted Romance, Confessions from both sides.

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, Potential minor implications of intoxication.

A/N: AHAHA I KNEW IT YOU WERE GONNA COMMENT SOMETHING LIKE THIS ANON!! 🤭

Part 1

You stepped into the apartment, the familiar scent of Kaveh’s notes and scattered architectural plans filling the air. You called out a casual greeting, but the only response was the soft clink of glass against wood. Frowning, you moved toward the dining room and found Kaveh slouched at the table, a half-empty bottle of wine by his side, the remnants of his fourth glass pooling at the bottom.

“Kaveh?” you ventured cautiously, noting the slight flush to his cheeks. “Are you okay?”

He looked up, his sharp red eyes slightly glazed over. A lopsided smile spread across his face, the kind that hinted at a lighthearted spirit struggling against the weight of his stress. “I’m... splendid!” he declared, raising the glass like a trophy. “A true artist needs his inspiration, after all!”

You stepped closer, assessing the chaotic spread of sketches and blueprints littering the table. “It looks like you’ve been at this for hours. You need to get some rest.”

Kaveh waved his hand dismissively, though it was less of a confident gesture and more a sign of his unsteady state. “Rest is for the weak! I can’t stop now; I have to finish this project for the exhibition next week! It’s... it’s my masterpiece!” He emphasized this last word with a theatrical flourish that made you chuckle despite the concern gnawing at your heart.

“Your masterpiece can wait until tomorrow,” you insisted gently, moving to pull the bottle away from him. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep this up.”

He pouted, a mix of frustration and exhaustion in his eyes. “But you don’t understand! Everything I do has to be perfect! I can’t let anyone down!” His voice wavered, revealing a hint of the pressure that had been weighing on him. You sat beside him, feeling a swell of sympathy.

“You’re not letting anyone down by taking care of yourself,” you said softly, placing a hand on his back. “You’re more than your work, Kaveh.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider this, his expression softening. “I know, but—” He paused, taking another sip of wine. “But you’re the only one who sees that, you know?”

You felt your heart flutter. “I’m just trying to help you, that’s all.”

He leaned back in his chair, suddenly serious, the laughter fading from his eyes. “You really care, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” You could feel your face heating up as you met his gaze, but then he startled you with his next words.

“I like you,” he blurted, words tumbling out in a rush. “Like, a lot. You make me feel... happy, and I—”

The weight of the moment struck you like lightning, leaving you utterly speechless. Your mind raced as you processed his confession. “Wait, you like me?”

“Yes, I—”

But before he could continue, you shook your head slightly, wanting to ground the conversation. “Kaveh, you’ve had a bit too much to drink right now. Maybe we should talk about this in the morning?”

He blinked at you, confusion swirling in his red eyes. “But I mean it,” he insisted, slightly slurring his words now. “I really do like you... a lot.”

Trying to keep a straight face amid the internal chaos, you nodded slowly. “Okay, let’s get you to bed, and we can figure it out when you’re sober.”

With some effort, you helped him to his feet, guiding him toward his room. He stumbled slightly, and you laughed softly, feeling a mixture of affection and exasperation. Once in his room, you helped him settle onto his bed, pulling the covers over him gently. “Get some sleep, Kaveh.”

He turned onto his side, looking up at you with a sleepy smile. “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?”

You hesitated, glancing back at the door. “I—”

Before you could finish, Kaveh reached out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you down beside him with surprising strength. You landed beside him, flustered and caught off guard. “Kaveh, what—”

“Stay,” he murmured, already drifting off. “I like you... so much...”

And with that, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close against his side, his warmth enveloping you like a soft blanket. You felt your heart race, trapped in his iron grip, unable to escape. You’d never expected this turn of events, yet you couldn’t deny the comfort of being beside him.

With a resigned sigh, you nestled into his side, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as you tried to process everything that had just happened.

The sun filtered through the curtains the next morning, the warmth of daylight creeping into Kaveh’s room. You stirred awake, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings and feeling the weight of Kaveh’s arm draped possessively over you.

Panic shot through you as you remembered the night before. You carefully extricated yourself from his grip, only to find his eyes fluttering open, blinking against the light.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. Then his expression shifted from drowsy to horrified as realization washed over him. “Oh, no... Did I...?”

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted, trying to suppress a smile. “You might have confessed your feelings while drunk.”

Kaveh shot up, wide-eyed, his hair a wild mess. “I what?!”

You chuckled, leaning back on your hands. “You definitely did, Kaveh. But it’s okay. We can talk about it if you want.”

He put his head in his hands, mortified. “I can’t believe I did that! This is so embarrassing!”

“Relax,” you said, a teasing lilt to your voice. “You weren’t wrong in what you said.”

Kaveh looked up at you, confusion etched on his features. “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, you smiled softly at him. “I like you too, Kaveh. A lot. But maybe we should both be sober when we talk about it more seriously.”

His eyes lit up, and he sat straighter, a spark of hope igniting in them. “Really? You—”

Before he could finish, you both blurted out at the same time, “I like you!”

You stared at each other, a mix of surprise and joy on your faces. Laughter erupted from both of you, the tension breaking like a wave.

“Okay, so we both like each other,” you said, feeling your heart race at the realization. “Now what?”

Kaveh grinned, the nervousness replaced by his usual exuberance. “I think we should start with a proper date. I’ll even design a place that’s beautiful enough to impress you!”

You laughed again, shaking your head at the endearing absurdity of it all. “I’m looking forward to it, Kaveh. Just try not to spill your feelings after too much wine next time.”

He smirked, leaning closer. “No promises!”

And with that, two silly idiots finally embraced their feelings, their hearts in sync as they began to carve out a new chapter together, full of beauty, laughter, and love.

[rinhaler]

Baby I Know How To Use a Gun (𝒢𝓊𝓃.. 𝔊𝔲𝔫)

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ toxic!megumi fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: smut Notes: this concept has been making me insane for WEEKS I just had to get it down, it's icky as usual = bon apetit ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ p.s. i dont know anything abt guns uwu Warnings: 18+, dubcon, vaginal sex, alcohol consumption, cheating, toxic!relationship (they are both toxic af), gaslighting, manipulation, coercion, co-dependency, gun inaccuracies (probably), gunplay ♡ physical abuse?, pussy drunk!megumi, choking, dacryphilia, daddy!kink, bruising ♡, spanking, masochism, minor dildo use, fingering, dumbifcation, pussy spanks, scratching, breeding kink, calls your pussy ‘she’. Words: 8k (I'm so sorry)

part of my toxic lovers collab

Nothing bothers you when you’re with Megumi. It’s impossible to feel any emotion besides pure, unadulterated lust whenever he’s with you. You were always such a prude before him. Absolutely disgusted whenever you’d see a couple hold hands or peck each other on the cheek.

It made your skin crawl when you saw couples kiss with tongue.

But he’s turned you into something you hate. You don’t care if you’re sitting with a group of friends, you couldn’t stop yourself from straddling him and basically dry fucking his thigh while making out with him. And it was worse when you drank.

So here you are now, in the back of a taxi on the way home from a mutual friend’s party. You haven’t seen Megumi in two days after a particularly vicious fight. You’d think an invisible force was driving the taxi, the way you’re kissing and wriggling around for him. You’ve rolled your hips so much that the uncomfortable driver can see a tease of white cotton between your legs under your little cocktail dress.

Megumi’s mouth is wet. A combination of sticky lip gloss and a mixture of saliva’s. He pulls away from kissing you every so often just to hear you whisper desperately for the feeling to return. He pulls little moans from you as he teases between your sodden folds.

“Knew you’d miss this dick too much to say no.” he grins before kissing you more. You laugh into it, not an ounce of remorse or regret behind it as you feel him against you. “Say you missed me. Tell daddy you missed ‘im.” he demands, grunting against you.

You ignore him, trying to shut him up with a kiss. A perfectly manicured hand traverses from his shoulder to his thigh, a subtle tease to distract him. A noble attempt results in failure when he stops playing with you and grabs your wandering wrist.

“Tell me.”

You avert your eyes, deciding to look out of the window while wiping the spit and gloss from your chin. He watches you, carefully, eye twitching as he tries to deduce what you’re keeping from him. A finger presses into that soft flesh of your cheek bending quickly and forcing you to face him yet again.

“What are you hiding?” he asks, the friendly lilt behind his voice being betrayed by the unamused sneering smile on his face. “Who did you fuck?”

“None of your—”

“Just tell me, you know you’re going to fucking spill so just do it now.” he instructs. You hear an amused scoff from him as you cross your arms petulantly and pout like a child who isn’t allowed a toy from the store. His face gets closer to yours, but you’ve already had enough of him. It’s been two days and you thought you were gonna die if you didn’t see him. But a few minutes in a taxi has reminded you why you didn’t want to see him in the first place. “Did he at least make you cum?” he whispers into your ear.

A soft breath leaves you as his hand slithers down your stomach and under the hem of your dress. You want to protest as you feel him prodding over the damp spot of your panties, but your mouth turns dry. Words turn to ash as he repeatedly tortures you with featherlight touches against your clit.

“Hm? Did your new little boyfriend make this pussy cum?” he wonders, voice a lecherous buzz that vibrates from your ear to your cunt. You fucking hate him. You can’t stand how difficult it is to stay true to your morals and self-respect when he knows every single square inch of your body and exactly which titillating button to press. “Mmm, bet he didn’t. Bet he couldn’t. ‘cause she only listens to me.”

“Megs…” you groan. Your hips involuntarily rolling up into his touch. The teasing barely there presses making your mind hazy, your body instinctively chases for more as the touch feels less and less the harder you buck. “D-Don’t stop, Megu—”

He softly kisses your lips to silence you, still refusing to continue touching you properly. You moan, a chaste sound as his lips stray from yours to kiss along your jaw like he loves you. He sucks at your neck like a fucking vampire before alternating to those sweet kisses again. You hate him, you hate that he’s trying to be something he’s not to get you to tell him your secret.

These kisses are so fucking sickly, like a stranger is forcing himself inside of your skin with each delicate press against your neck. And it’s making your teeth rot. You’re a stupid girl. His stupid girl because you’re falling for it. Your candy-coated tongue is loosening and preparing to bare your entire fucking soul to him so long as he keeps touching you and giving you your sugar fix.

His hand holds your waist, a weight for himself more than you. Two whole days away from your perfect cunt has been hell for him, and not being able to touch you is a fate worse than death. He wants to tease your pressure points until you’re dying for him. He wants your every breath to be agonising without him.

Without seeing him.

Without feeling him.

Without breathing him.

He needs your every thought and whim to be aching for him and him alone. So, he needs to control himself. By showing restraint and fighting his primal urge to make your pussy fucking purr for him, he’s keeping his hand on your waist.

You smirk as he decorates your neck in bruises, you feel the sickening smile sprawling across his fucking face. And again, you want to protest, you want to tell him what you think of him and how much you can’t stand him. But when his hand begins another journey, you can’t. You can’t as your body jolts into his touch as his fingertips tickle your ribs. They don’t stop, teasing traces of his finger cover your body despite being clothed.

How can such a light touch feel so powerful?

You try to stifle yourself as he cups your breast, the flesh and swollen nipple are exposed thanks to your decision to forgo a bra. You still have your dignity, Megumi isn’t that perverse to allow this random old driver the honour of seeing your tits.

You’re just that weak.

They’re covered, entirely, and still his rubbing and tweaking are too much for you. Your attempt to bite your lip is just that. An attempt. A feeble attempt to withhold your pleasure from him which only ends in you mewling harder for him. Your heavy, lust-filled breaths fill the cab as he rubs his thumb slowly back and forth over your nipple. His teeth bite and kiss at your jawline once more, albeit he is barely present either. He’s almost as fucked out as you are, he can’t silence his pleasure. His breathing heavier than you know it to be. His eyes lidded heavier than they’ve ever been.

“Yuuji—” you pant, your body is limp in the back seat as he feels you up. His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kisses your neck and sinks his head until he reaches the top of your breast. “Did you hear m— ow! Megumi!”

“Shut up.” he chides. He sank his teeth into your tit before speaking.

You stare into his emerald eyes as you contemplate his next move. That’s the one bad thing about being with Megumi.

That’s a lie, there’s a lot of bad things, you just choose to ignore them.

But you know you’ll never be as clever as he is. You’ll never be able to fully read him like he does you. He knows every move you’re going to make before you’ve made it. He can read you like a book and it fucking scares you.

“Yuuji couldn’t make you cum… you wanna know why?” he asks, his thumb strokes your earlobe between gentle pulls. It’s too sweet again, you think. There’s no way he’s this calm after finding out you fucked his best friend. He’s always been jealous. You think he’s just possessive but deep down you should know the truth. He’s scared you’ll leave him. He’s insecure and that is why he makes such a show of making it known that you are his.

“Why…” is all you can think to say. And he smiles at that. His fingers no longer toying with your ear. The way his fingers draw along your skin makes your hair stand on end. He feels no sympathy as he sees your arm breakout in goosebumps despite knowing he is the cause. And he feels even less as he wraps his hand around your pretty little throat.

He squeezes tight.

Tighter.

Tighter.

“Because you don’t belong to Yuuji. You belong to me.” he tells you, his grip is bruising. His teeth are bared as he feels your pathetic pawing, desperately trying to pull his fingers from your neck.

He’s going to kill you, you think. His voice full of vitriol and malice as he effortlessly wrings the life out of you with one hand. And the taxi driver doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to intervene because it isn’t his place.

A lovers quarrel.

That’s what he must think. You were all over each other a moment ago after all, maybe you’re just a slut who likes it a little rough.

You are, but that’s besides the point.

He probably doesn’t want to risk sticking his nose in and getting more involved than he needs to be. You know yourself that Megumi doesn’t care. He’d only tell him to mind his own fucking business.

“You think I didn’t know?” he whispers, his breath warming the shell of your ear as he doesn’t let up. “You reek like him… you smell like a fucking whore.” his words, his tone, his breath all dripped with virulence. He lets go of you, practically throwing you to the other side of the taxi as tears spill over your cheeks.

You wipe them, quickly, but the damage is done. The way you’re sniffling and trying to do damage control to your perfectly done makeup is nauseating to him. Silence fills the taxi and the air is thick. You roll down a window, the cold air lashes against your face and dries your tears as you wait to reach your destination.

--

The car pulls up outside of your apartment. You barely wait for him to come to a stop before you open the door and rush out to open the security door. The bite in the winter air has you trembling as you fiddle with your keys. The little dress and lack of coat certainly wasn’t a wise choice, but you’ll always place looking hot ahead of being practical.

But in truth, the weather isn’t the sole culprit. It’s barely bothering you, honestly. Megumi’s casual callousness and unyielding grip around your throat are what has you shaken up. It’s not the first time he’s choked you and you doubt it’ll be the last. But it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do it with that look in his eye. A look that told you how little you mean to him. How unfazed he would be if you died by his hand.

You’re wrong, though. While you’re fiddling with your keys Megumi pays the driver. He tips him a fair amount and then follows you out, approaching slowly as he waits for you to open the door. His eyes weren’t cold because you mean nothing to him, it’s the opposite. You are everything to him. Why do you think he’s being so cruel to you? To get it through that pretty little skull.

“You didn’t answer me, princess.” he tells you, and by now you don’t even know what he’s talking about. “Did you think you could fuck anybody and I wouldn’t find out? I always do.”

“Shut up.” you tell him, though it’s quiet and meek. Your usual bravado and confidence lodged in your dry throat. You finally slot the key in the hole and turn it, allowing him to enter with you. “You said it yourself… I was always going to tell you I fucked him.”

He scoffs, watching you climb the stairs. Even now he has no shame. He’s unable to stop himself peaking up your dress to see your panties riding up your ass as you walk. You can be as mad at him as you like, you both know you’re too weak to say no to him.

He follows, eventually, catching up with ease. You allow him to take the key from you and walk ahead, unlocking the door like it’s his apartment. It may as well be, he spends so much time here after all. Most of his things are here, you’re here. Though he’s been banished for the last few days to stay at his dad’s house after your latest fight.

The door opens and he makes himself at home. He collapses onto the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and crosses one ankle over the other. You go inside, slowly, locking the door behind you and looking at him suspiciously.

“… What are you doing? I know you aren’t here for a fucking movie night, Megs, are we going to bed or not?”

“No. We’ve gotta talk first.” he tells you. You roll your eyes and leave him alone to walk to your bedroom. He sighs, annoyed, following you. “Back to being a brat? You only fuckin’ behave yourself when I make you cum.”

“Fuck you.” you sigh. “What is there to talk about?”

“You cheating on me with my best friend springs to mind, baby. We should probably clear that up, shouldn’t we?” he’s talking like it was a silly misunderstanding. Like you almost walked away with his suitcase at the airport that just so happens to be identical to yours. But nothing you do will ever match up to what he does. You can go low; but there’s no sight to the depths he’ll stoop to.

“Fuck! You!” you tell him, pointing your finger in his face like you always do when you’ve had too much vodka. “You are the reason I don’t have any friends anymore because you fucked them all! I broke up with you when I fucked Yuuji so whoever I fuck in that time is none of your business. I—”

“Baby—”

“No, shut up. I forgave you every single time you fucking cheated on me because I’m an idiot and I love you. So, stop talking about Yuuji, it doesn’t matter. We weren’t together. In fact, we still aren’t! You should count yourself fucking lucky that I’m even giving you the chance to fuck me tonight.”

He walks to you, slowly, and you don’t have the energy to be a brat anymore. You let him get closer and closer until you’re looking up into his eyes while his hand rests on your hip and the other cups your cheek. His head tilts, and your eyes instinctively flutter closed as his lips press against yours.

“I know ‘m lucky, princess. Missed you so much baby.” he tells you before deepening the kiss.

You’re too weak to be with a man like him and expect to be anything but a plaything. The hand lingering on your hip wraps around your back before down to your ass. The pudgy softness of your ass swells between his fingers, the white material of your dress warming his hands as he grips you roughly. He smirks against your lips before landing a harsh smack against your supple flesh. The yelp he extracts from you is fucking delectable. He could quite happily gorge himself on the sound and make it his life essence until the end of time.

“Daddy missed his perfect girl ‘n her perfect pussy… didn’t even fuck anyone else. No one compares to you, y’know?” he tells you quietly, almost like it’s a secret only meant for you to hear. He hikes up your leg so it’s settled around his waist, your other instinctively follows so that you’re completely in his hold. He walks you to the bed, his mouth suffocating yours and you can’t think of a single coherent thought as your brain feels starved of oxygen.

You giggle as you fall onto the bed, your shoulder blades against the mattress while he presses his weight fully on top of yours. He keeps a thigh between both of yours, and he revels in how pathetically you’re rutting your hips against it just to satiate the slightest bit of tension formulating at your core because of him.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you slip your tongue into his mouth. The moaning sounds trapped in your throat break free and he devours them as he feels you up in every way he can to make your mind dizzy and drunker than vodka could ever make you.

“Do you believe me?” he asks, breaking the kiss to see how needy you are. Your eyes give you away in an instant, filling with water the minute he pulls away. You feel so in love with him when you have your arms around him like this. When he’s caging you in like you’re his property.

You are.

That’s how he sees you, and that’s how he makes you feel.

No matter how dehumanising or fucked up, you just don’t care. You wouldn’t want to belong to anyone but him, anyone. And isn’t this what the main goal in life is? To find your person? To fall in love and be adored so wholly it makes you insane?

You feel that with him.

He feels that with you.

“N-No…” you confess. You aren’t scared of him; you never really have been. You’re scared of what he can do to you. You’re terrified of how strong he is and how unyielding he is in his pursuit of having all that he wants in the world with a cherry on top for presentation. But he doesn’t scare you, not really. Not enough to hide how you really feel. “Why would I believe you when you’ve cheated so much?” you ask.

He’s a little surprised by your brazenness and resolve. Usually with a little kissing and humping you stop caring about what kind of a person he is and what he’s done to you in the past. You aren’t scared; but you’re making him feel fear.

“Mmm, baby. You really need to cum, hah? Is that why you’re bein’ so dumb f’me? Can’t think because you need to cream for daddy…” he insults you with ease, and your brows knot into a bemused frown. “Awe… you’re s’cute when you’re confused, baby. Jus’ let me touch you, don’t think too hard. I forgive ya.”

“W-Wha?” you hum, the determination to continue questioning him falls silent as he pushes your panties into the crease of your thigh. The breeze rolling through the open window causing a shiver to roll through you and truly feel the difference between your freezing body and the sopping warmth betwixt your thighs.

“You said you didn’t cheat when you fucked Yuuji. So how can I cheat if I fucked other girls at the same time?” he asks. “I didn’t, though,” he spreads your pussy lips open and collects the ever-dampening slick on his fingers. He buries his head beside yours, kissing and breathing against your ear as he swipes softly over your throbbing clit.

“But you—”

“I fucked my fist ‘n thought of you.” he whispers, his fingers not stopping the lackadaisical stroking. “Whenever I got hard… jus’ thought of your pretty cunt swallowin’ me and made myself cum so fast. Looked through your Insta feed ‘n your selfies, imagined cumming all over your face.”

“Fuck.” you keen, hips bucking wildly in search of more pleasure than his modest touches. You fully wrap your arms around him, kissing him passionately and he begins to pick up the pace. “I love you.” you mumble, like the pathetic person you are. He grins and bites your lower lip before kissing you deeply.

He’s got you right where he wants you.

“I love you, baby.” he confesses, though you’ll never know if he really means it. Maybe he loves fucking you and loves having a pretty little trophy on his arm to call his and show off to his friends. Maybe he loves the idea of you and what you can do for him in terms of looks and status.

But is he in love with you?

You can only hope.

All you can do is hope he never lies to you. He never hides his cheating from you, you think he’s always honest with you so is it possible he can actually love you when he says he does? It’s enough to make you cry. Knowing that you’ll never really know makes you feel sick with an excruciating desire to make him.

You have to be his perfect girl.

You have to take all of the negatives that come with loving Megumi Fushiguro.

He stands above you on his knees, reaching over you to grab some pillows to place under your hips. You wriggle and squirm in his absence, awaiting his return to you. But you forgot about the pillows. Your head snaps in the direction he’s reaching as he picks up the two nearest pillows to him. Any attempt to object would be fruitless now that you’re too late.

Your body fills with heat and shame as he lifts the pillows to see a purple, silicone dildo beneath where they once were. The laugh that escapes him is boisterous as he looks between you and the toy. You shield your face with your hands, almost ready to cry, and his laughing doesn’t cease.

“This is pathetic, princess. Did you even fuck Yuuji? Or did you just spend the last two days riding this stupid thing?”

“I fucked him!” you protest. You reach to grab the purple dildo from his hand but he’s too fast for you, still far too amused by this discovery to let up on teasing you. “He did make me cum, by the way—”

“You are a fucking liar.” he snorts. “Bet ya hurried him out of here so fast so that you could stuff this purple cock up yourself and pretend it was daddy fuckin’ you. Bet you were tryin’ so hard to cum and you couldn’t.”

“I hate you.” you sniff, attempting to grab the toy once more to no avail.

“You just told me you love me. So again, you’re fuckin’ lying to me, princess.” he continues.

You feel his body press against yours once more as he cages you in. You just watch him and prepare for whatever he’s about to do. There’s no point in trying to fight him when you know you’ll always lose. You cringe, slightly, as he starts to trace the tip of the cock over your swollen lips. His own mouth widens, a silent action, he’s coaxing you to mirror. And perfectly, you do.

You’re almost certain you see a heart-shaped twinkle in his eye as he softly pokes it in and out of your mouth, enamoured by the way your tongue instinctively swirls around it. You see more of his sharp canines the further he pushes it in. And it’s a full-blown snarl as he shoves it down your throat until you’re sputtering.

“I fucking hate you!” you yell and grab the toy quicker than he’d anticipated, snatching it from his grasp. “Get off me, now.” you command, pushing him off you. You know he let you when he moves away effortlessly. If he wanted to keep you trapped, he would.

“You’re so easy to tease.” he smiles.

You ignore him completely as you stand up. He watches you intently as you pull open the second drawer of your nightstand so hard the entire cabinet shakes. He tries to steal a peak of whatever other treasures you might be hiding in there, but you kick it closed before he can torment you any further.

“Awe, you’re no fun. Not gonna let daddy see what other toys aren’t good enough? Can show you how to use ‘em when you’re missing me.” he grins, he gets closer to you. Close enough to smooth his hands over your sides as you glare down furiously at him. You grab his hands, basically throwing them back at him.

“You are such a dick all of the time. I actually can’t stand you; I hate you.” you tell him, knowing yourself it’s a weak response even for you.

“You’re always such a good fuck when you’re pissed off.” he smirks, he takes off his shirt and throws it aside. You do your best to keep eye contact with him, not wanting to let your eyes wander and rake over his chiselled body. He sees you steal a few glances; he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “Stop bein’ such a brat. Don’t be embarrassed, daddy thinks it’s cute that you touch yourself.”

A black silhouette in the drawer is stuck in your mind. Despite your cunt growing wetter and your thoughts becoming cloudy, you can think of nothing else. He is a dick. And part of you does fucking hate him. So, you open the drawer again. He doesn’t watch you, this time, he’s more focused on reading your body language now. What are you thinking? What’s on your mind?

“’m really pissed off, daddy.” you tell him with confidence. His body stiffens like a corpse as you pull a gun from the cabinet. A Glock 40. He does all he can to maintain his composure, to remain control of the situation and of you. But it’s clear he’s worried. He’s never seen you like this before, ever.

But he knows you. He knows what you’re thinking before you even do. He can read every little muscle pulling on your face. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to look angry, he knows what you look like when you’re really angry. You’re pissed, sure, but you certainly aren’t capable of doing any real damage with that thing. Not on purpose, anyway. And definitely not with the way your hands are fucking trembling.

“You gonna kill me, baby?” he asks.

“I might.” you tell him, you can feel the way your hands are shaking while gripping onto the gun. There’s no question he’s noticed, too. You’ve made a declaration by standing here like this, willing to toy with his life as well as your own. You can’t just put it away and pretend nothing happened, you need to make some kind of statement or you’ll never here the end of it.

He’ll ridicule you ‘til his dying breath.

“How?” he asks, getting closer to you. You back away, but you’re against the wall before you know it. He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet planted firmly against the ground so you know he can lunge at any moment.

“I’ll shoot you…” you speak, he hears an unintentional warble in your voice, and you can see the fucking smirk stretching across his face at the sound. You fucked up, he knows you don’t have it in you. But he’s probably known the whole time.

He grabs your wrist, and you yelp. Your eyes widen in horror as he moves your hands so that the gun is aimed at his chest.

His heart.

“Here?” he asks, and it’s so casual, you think you might throw up. You want to protest, to snatch your hands away and tell him to stop being so stupid. But you can’t, you can’t give into his mind games now. You can’t. Your hands are tremoring as he moves the gun again, resting it right between his eyes. “Hm… here? Probably the quickest. Won’t leave much mess if it gets stuck in my brain.” he explains.

“Stop it.” you mutter, he can feel the way your hands are trying to get free from his hold but he’s much too strong. “I’m s-sorry, stop it, please.”

“Could make me swallow a bullet too, but I don’t think you’re gonna shoot me anywhere.” he smiles, forcing you to aim at his perfect, gleaming teeth. “Where the fuck did you get this anyway? You really are stupid.”

“My dad gave it to me!” you inform him, and you’re aiming at him with new courage and will. “I know how to use it; I have a license.”

“Your pussyof a dad got you this?” he laughs.

You shove the gun against his teeth, not taking kindly to him insulting your father unprovoked. He looks up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze, he’s never been so attracted to you, really. Seeing you do all you can to stand up to him but both of you ultimately knowing you will never truly be a match for him, it’s quite interesting. Arousing, even.

He widens his mouth, allowing you to slot the black chamber between rows of white. The blinding contrast is almost enough to make you consider what you’re doing. Are you sure you want to do this? You are dangling his life in your quivering hands, after all.

“I should make you choke on this.” you whimper a little, a tear finally rolling down your cheek and giving your true cowardice away. You aren’t going to hide it this time. There’s no point in trying to clear away what he’s already seen. And you have no intention of holding a gun with just one hand when you’re already so shaken up.

He grabs your wrist, shocking you, but you don’t falter. You watch him carefully as he sinks his mouth down the chamber until it hits the back of his throat.

You hate him.

You hate how easily he can take any ounce of power you feel over him and turn it to nothing but a grandiose idea. A fleeting thought that you could make him tremble and weep before you. Maybe even apologise and promise to change because he’s the one scared of you for a change. But you should have known he’d never let you have that over him.

Hell, he won’t even let you embarrass him.

“I should fucking kill you.” you start to cry, thinking back to how he’s treated you tonight alone. He hasn’t even broken a fucking sweat. You thought you might be able to humiliate him like this. Making him choke and sputter around the gun like he’d made you with the dildo, just to see heat sear through you and add to the already burning shame you felt having been caught.

But instead, you watch him as he takes the gun as far as he possibly can. His stare is still lidded and hazy with lust and adoration for you. He does it a few times, repeatedly, and somehow still with a fucking smirk on his face.

He holds your hands still, pulling away from the gun as an obscene amount of drool pours from his mouth and down his chin. And then, he finally does begin to hack up choking breaths. Despite it being almost entirely on his terms, the feeling of cold, hard polymer clogging up his airways proved to be too much for even him to withstand for too long.

“Did you really think you could embarrass me like that?” he asks, sincerely. “You really are pathetic.”

“Megumi I—”

“Good thing you’re daddy’s stupid little girl, my pretty li’l airhead.” he grins, snatching the gun away from you. Your back slides down against the wall as you watch him fiddle with the gun, pulling out the magazine with a sadistic fucking snarl on his face. “The safety was on the whole time. And there aren’t even any bullets in here. You’re s’fucking stupid. It’s adorable.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” you sob into your hands. He watches you for a moment, not an inkling of remorse lingering in his body as he sees you crying inconsolably. You feel his fingers dig into your arms and pull you towards him.

Quiet protests die the instant he throws you down onto the bed. You’re underneath him once again, but you feel even more trapped as he shows no intention of letting go of the gun. He aims it between your eyes and you can’t stop crying.

His choking was unrelenting in the taxi.

And now he has a weapon that could end your life in an instant.

But would he? Is he capable?

“I’m sorry… I love you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you weep, you don’t think you’ve ever cried so loudly or so hard in your life. You wouldn’t be surprised if a vein was bulging in your forehead, and you can without a doubt feeling a migraine bursting through your brain. But you can’t stop, you can’t stop crying. “Megumi I love you, I’m sorry.”

You know it’s empty and you know the safety is on because he told you so. And Megumi is always honest with you, isn’t he? And still, you’re panicking. You’re worried that he’ll pull the trigger and somehow wills a bullet into existence simply because he often gets what he wants in life.

He keeps the gun aimed at you until your head is resting on the pillows still remaining against your headboard. He’s donning a facial expression you’ve never seen from him before. A stoic yet somehow manic stare as he watches you cry and plead for your life beneath him like he’s some sort of God.

His expression doesn’t falter as he turns the gun and aims it at his temple. You’re screaming now. You dread to think what your neighbours think. It’s not like they’ve never heard you two fighting and fucking before, but it must be concerning for them to hear.

“Megumi I’m sorry! Please!” you wail, fear stabbing through you as you see him begin to shake. You close your eyes, expecting the worst yet still begging with him to see sense and stop this.

He lowers the gun again, his eyes wander to follow it as he drags the cold weapon between your clothed tits and down your body. You shudder as you feel him use it to move up your dress and exposes your still bare cunt, having not moved your panties back into place.

You feel the chilled polymer dip between your folds.

“P-Please…” you beg, hoping he won’t put it in you. Your eyes screw shut as he moves it, sliding it through your soaking flesh again and again as butterflies soar through your stomach. He pulls the trigger, the vibration almost assaults your clit, despite the empty clacking filling the room. “Hnnff—”

“You’re so wet f’me… or is it just the gun? Is it turnin’ you on, princess?”

“N-No, please. I don’t wanna play with it anymore, d-daddy.” you tell him, each hitched breath you take scratching your throat. Your cries still evident as you gasp and plead with him to finally stop. You should never have pulled it on him, you should have known he’d do this.

He moves from you, opening the drawer you’d taken it from and puts it back inside. Even though it’s gone, out of his reach, you end up crying tears of relief as he places gentle kisses against your forehead and cheeks.

“You’re such a good girl, y’know? Did so well… proud of you, baby.” he whispers, and you hate yourself. You hate yourself because you’re brimming with confidence after he tells you he’s proud. Your heart crescendos to a place you know there’s no going back from now. Even after almost threatening to end your life; you’re still in love with Megumi Fushiguro.

You’re too tired.

Emotionally exhausted and physically defeated. There’s no fight left in you anymore as you feel him carefully peel away your dress from your body. He rolls the top down to your midsection, exposing your breasts to him and your still hardened nipples. He does the same with the skirt, fully revealing your glittering cunt and what a drippy mess he’s turned you into.

No one makes you wetter than he does.

He pushes your thighs apart, and lightly spanks your pussy to steal a quiet whimper from you. It’s not a punishment by any means, he just wants to make sure you’re still here with him. Still relishing this moment. Still honoured by the fact he’s even giving you the time of day to play with you like this. To satiate the burning need to be toyed with until your mind goes blank. He’ll do it for you, and it’ll take no time at all.

He kisses down from your left knee towards the apex of your thighs. He’s admiring his handiwork on your body as he does. Purple bruises he left you before your last fight have begun to turn greenish yellow as they heal.

You love his little reminders of who owns your body.

He hurts you so good. And you wouldn’t feel conquered without the bruises that his tenacious touch bestow upon you. You sink into the mattress as his tongue laves over the doughy skin of your thigh, reminding you where every single bruise is.

You gasp, back arching off the bed as you feel him insert a thick long digit into your sopping entrance. He’s slow, prodding and twisting deeper and deeper. He can make you cum like this, and you think you might gush as he teases the sweet spot buried within.

“What are you—?” you start, watching him push your legs further apart as he suckles at your clit. You feel the fingers on his free hand trace along your skin, the sensitive bruises almost pulsating beneath his touch. The way your head throws itself back seems like an out of body experience. An involuntary response to the way his finger pokes harshly into a particularly nasty looking bruise. “Hnng— fuck, daddy!”

He spanks your clit before swiping over it rapidly with the tip of his tongue. Your fingers lace between black tendrils of hair and pull as you deliquesce into the empyrean feeling that only his tongue has ever offered you.

Your mind is stripped bare as he continues his assault. Manipulative fingers push carelessly yet purposefully into your ageing bruises to extract those ethereal moans from your weak little throat.

“’m gonna c-um, daddy.” you groan, eyes fluttering white as he presses harder into your marked body.

“Show me.” he whispers, breath fanning across your sex as he speaks. “Show daddy how a slut cums.”

Every inch of your body feels tarnished and stained by him. With him. A cloying film embedded to your skin that is purely the work of Megumi Fushiguro. His insults as well as his loving touch. The fear as well as the adoration. Even his eyes ravishing you with nothing but a salacious stare leave their mark on you.

His tongue doesn’t stop as your cunt begins to spasm. He feels how your pretty pussy pulsates against his greedy face. You cum hard and coat the lower half of his face in a shimmering gleam. He’s loud, unable to hide his pleasure as he begins to hump into the mattress at the sight of you coming undone for him. It extends your own pleasure, hearing how fucking noisy he is purely from giving you head.

You hate him.

He’s so vile.

But you can’t help wanting to make him proud.

You can’t stop feeling proud when you’re a good girl for him.

And seeing him like this makes you think that he might actually love you. His eyes are definitely dotted with hearts, now, as he savours the taste from devouring your essence. There are two words lodged in your throat. Two stupid little words that you would do anything to choke down and forget right now. Maybe he won’t care, not when he’s like this. Not when he’s pussy drunk and utterly enamoured by your mere existence.

“Kiss me…” you almost suffocate as you speak, tears spilling down your cheek as your cheeks burn with heat and shame. Your eyes scrunch closed, preparing for a barrage of insults from him. You know he’s going to call you stupid, pathetic. Maybe even an airhead again.

But it doesn’t come.

He finds his strength, holding his body up on his knuckles as he drags his body up yours like a wild beast. He lowers himself, his lips locking perfectly against yours before he cups your cheek. Why isn’t he always so soft and gentle with you? You feel yourself cry more as he swipes his thumb softly across your cheek as he kisses you. His tongue teases yours, licking it and smiling when you can’t quite keep up.

You know he loves you.

Why else would he do this?

Why else would you allow this?

He pulls away, familiar green eyes staring into yours as he studies you. They’re intimidating, clinquant. The most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. He wonders if you know he thinks the same about yours.

“You want me to put it in, don’t you?” he asks. He chuckles softly as he notices you nodding before he’s even finished his sentence. Your eyes are pleading and desperate, and he’s never been one to deny you of him when you’re so needy and polite. He stands on his knees again, unbuckling his belt slowly while he examines you. The way your hips roll in anticipation, the way you’re biting your lip and forcing yourself to not allow your fingers to dip between your thighs to toy with your clit. It’s too much. It’s too long to wait as he undoes the button and pulls down the zipper. You’re almost salivating when he finally frees his cock. “Missed me that bad, hm? Missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you?” he asks, ignoring the fact he knows the answer is obvious.

“Y-Yeah…” you struggle to speak. To think as your mind runs rampant with so many sex flashbacks you have; courtesy of the very cock you’re ogling. It’s thick with gorgeous veins and flushed with the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. “Need it— need your daddy cock.” you tell him, your chest jittering with hitching breaths as you try and maintain some semblance of composure.

You’re far from composed.

You’re nothing more than a mammal, burning with a white-hot intensity from trying to control your basic instincts. The primal urge and need to fuck. He’ll help you, though. You never need to worry about those needs being neglected while Megumi has nothing but you on his mind.

The pleasure is blinding as he presses his tip against your entrance. He pushes and pushes until he’s fully sheathed in your welcoming cunt. His cockhead rests at your sweet spot, and you know he’ll waste no time in forcing your vision to white out as he fucks you.

His fingers wrap around your throat, the prettiest necklace you own, and he squeezes tight. It’s not without reason. It isn’t just to give you more bruises or to cut off your air supply. He wants to keep you focused. Focused on him. He dips his head down to slot his tongue inside of your mouth once more. It’s a sloppy, drool induced kiss that shows no signs of stopping as he rocks his hips against you. His cock slamming deep and hard against your g-spot.

You can’t talk.

The only words that swirl around your brain are expletives anyway.

His kiss is suffocating and so is his grip on your neck. He releases you, slightly, giving you the chance to breathe once more. You can barely sense where you are, you don’t know if your eyes are open or closed as the only thing occupying your mind is his cock slamming into you and bringing you to your second release of the evening.

You’re brought back to reality, though, as he lightly taps your cheek a few times before slapping you hard.

“L-Love you, daddy.” you pant, you moan for him again and again until drool leaks from the corner of your mouth. You don’t care, you don’t even notice. And the sight is making him feral as he realises how there’s truly no one for you but him.

There’s no one for him but you, either.

“Fuck.” he grunts, knowing he’s going to cum sooner than he’d anticipated. He could stop fucking you, of course, but he can’t think of a worse fate. He wants to cum. He needs to cum inside of you and flood your pretty insides with his seed. He needs to make his mark on you and remind you who you fucking belong to. “’m cumming, baby, auh—”

“D-Don’t stop!” you warn him, desperate to reach your peak with him. You try to keep him in place, your legs wrap around his back and your fingers claw into his porcelain skin. He groans, quietly, hissing as you drag your fingers across his back deep enough to draw blood. He doesn’t mind, how could he when he leaves you covered in bruises at any given opportunity? If he marks you, he owns you. If you mark him, you own him.

And he wouldn’t want to belong to anyone but you.

“S’perfect… so fuckin’ perfect f’me. Unnff— oh, oh fuuuuuck.” he finishes, still pistoning his hips to fuck his sperm deeper inside. He’d knock you up in a heartbeat if you let him. Not because he wants to be a dad. Not because he wants to have a family with you. But he wants everyone to know you’re his. He continues to moan as he imagines you with a big swelling bump and everyone knowing that he is the cause.

You can’t ever leave him.

He’ll go mad without you.

“Such a good girl… look so pretty when you cum on daddy’s cock.” he tells you. He dips a hand between where you’re joined and rubs torturous circles into your throbbing clit. Your body jolts relentlessly from the aftershocks, unable to withstand the teasing.

His touches slow, and he pulls out as you begin to catch your breath. Your breathing deepens as you feel him part your pussy with two fingers so that he can watch his seed drip out of you and onto the mattress below. He smiles, brimming with pride that he did this to you. That no matter how much you claim to hate him, he’ll always be able to do this to you.

He collapses by your side. He’s staring up at the ceiling as your bodies shine with sweat and sex. He’s panting, loudly, with the biggest smile on his face you’ve ever seen. You’re staring at him. Trying to understand what actually goes on in that fucked up head of his.

But you never will.

So, you stare up at the same ceiling as he is and keep your thoughts to yourself. Where does this leave you, now? You never said you were back together, but you think he might have already decided.

But it was always going to end up like this.

You kick up a fuss and banish him to his dads house. But he always comes back. Always. And it’s because you want him back. Because you are too weak willed to stay away from him and do what you know is right. You could move on. You could fall in love with someone that doesn’t play mind games and make your life miserable.

But you love him.

You’re so stupid, because you love him.

“I love you, Megumi.” you whisper.

He’s quiet, he’s thinking.

“I know.”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[purplemang0z]

I need to draw more Rick n Morty stuffs

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I would love to see more Chris, and especially with Branch now we know that bastard is deep in the ground

Yeah, Oliver Branch is so very, very, very dead. That was a fun day for us all.

CW: Creepy whumper, intimate whumper, Oliver Branch is gross, BBU, forced alcohol consumption, minor whump (whumpee is 17), some gross implications here

-

"They should have a Pets Unlimited feature," His Sir muses, stirring the little stick with the olive speared through it around and around the slightly-tinted liquid in his martini glass. Baldur watches it, his mind too slow and foggy for the words to sink in immediately.

There's a delay before Baldur, kneeling on the floor before his Sir's chair, tips his chin to look up. At first, Sir is blurry and completely out of focus, but when he tries, slowly the details come together. "... a what?"

"Oh, probably not that, I'm sure they'd get sued for copyright infringement," Sir hums, picking up the toothpick and biting the olive right off, bleu cheese stuffing and all. He leans down and feeds Baldur some of the olive-stained vodka, until the boy coughs and Sir laughs at him, stabbing another olive from a little bowl on the table beside him and feeding Baldur that, too.

The squeak of olive and tang of the blue-veined cheese makes his stomach turn, but Baldur refuses to show it. He hates olives, but Sir likes them, so Baldur has to like them, too.

"But..." Sir hums, sitting back. His legs, kicked out on either side of Baldur, shift around behind him, locking his ankles to pull the boy closer, until he's pressed right up against the fabric of the chair. "You know what I mean."

Baldur has no idea whatsoever.

But he nods, slowly, keeping his eyes firmly focused on his Sir's face.

"I don't think I could afford it even if they did. Hell, for all I know the damn concept is already in place, and I'm just not rich enough or enough of the 'in group' to be offered." Sir laughs, a deep, rich, warm chuckle that runs like honey down Baldur's back, settles into his mind and smothers his thoughts. His eyes close as Sir pets fingers through his copper hair, shivering. He thinks he likes the touch.

He doesn't.

But he has to, so he does.

"Order one, keep it until I'm done with it, until you're too old, until you start to look your age... then send you back and get the next one. I'd pay for that kind of convenience, if I could. Which I can't. But wouldn't it be nice?"

These words, he knows. These words aren't honey - they are sharp and spiky, terror that has his eyes flying back open. He puts his hands on Sir's knees and shifts upwards, straightening his spine. "Sir? You... you would... send me back?"

The fear breaks through the daze he lives his days in, the only feeling he has with any strength anymore. He used to feel other things, he thinks, besides fear and the odd need that gets forced out of him. He's sure he did. Once.

"Oh, Baldur, darlin'." Sir sighs, as if he's being silly, a stupid little slut with no thoughts in his mind. He rubs a thumb along the line of Baldur's jaw, along his bottom lip, watches with amusement as Baldur tries to follow it, to somehow earn the forever that is supposed to be part of the promise of the program.

You signed up for this, and now you'll be taken care of.

"Sir..." He whispers, desperate for reassurance.

What he gets instead is Sir's smile, widening like a monster's until it feels too big for his face, and Baldur can only go still and silent as the glass is tipped against his mouth again, and the vodka burns down his throat and runs cold out of the corners of his mouth, trickling over his jaw and down his neck.

He chokes on it.

It's too much too fast, as much in his lungs as down his esophagus. He coughs, bent over with the force of it, and droplets spatter across Sir's pants and his shirt. Baldur's eyes burn, his heart pounds, and he gasps. "Oh... oh, no... Sir, I, I'm sorry-"

"Ssssshhhhh. It's all right, sweetheart, don't worry... it's all right..." Sir shakes his head. "It's okay, darlin'."

Baldur's mouth is trembling and he can't stop the little coughs that keep bubbling up, how his stomach flips and drops. He can't throw up. He can't. He'll be whipped bloody if he does, he always is when he throws up. His fingers tighten into Sir's pants until his knuckles are white as he fights the violence his stomach keeps threatening.

Sir waits, patient as a tiger watching prey take a drink at a stream, fingers moving gently through Baldur's hair, again and again.

Only when Baldur goes quiet, finally getting his body until control, does Sir murmur, "I wonder who'll find you when I'm done, and what they'll do to you, then."

His smile is soft and sweet and Baldur stares up into his eyes helplessly, hating every single second. This time, it's the vodka bottle that he forces against Baldur's lips. It's pure clear burn that he has to swallow. The world dips and spins around him, but his heart keeps racing.

"... I wonder," Sir says, voice nearly a whisper, "How long you'll live when I don't want you anymore."

-

God, I'm so glad that guy is dead now.

[chaos-agent-rory]

Greetings, Perse. My favourite little harbinger of CHAOS. Hehe... I like this idea. It is about time we introduce a new flavour of Slurp. And since I am working on improving Nitro for my dear Lord Don I should put these experiments to a good use. @fortnitegoddess

[justcleodora]

| Cleodora & Yazi | Starter |

@pandokofswamp

Where: Edge of Destarin Forest When: Early afternoon

Though Cleodora had failed to arrive for another shift at the local grocers, it only took a little stroll along the outskirt of the forest to find the run away nymph. She had a flagrant disregard for what was expected of her and it showed, given she had no intention of hiding away at home. No, the nymph instead was floating in a stream, the pale rose of her wet gown matching the pink in the nymph's eyes.

Though the nymph had drank from her waterfall yesterday, remnants of it's sight seeing gifts remained, evident in the hue of her usually crystal blue eyes. After an extended stay in town, the nymph had gorged on the water source and thus had spent the majority of the morning, trapped in a confusing blur of visions. As the pink clouded her eyes, Cleodora lost her grip on the present and was forced into the futures of those closest to her as well as those who were complete strangers to her. The visions were confusing, filled with languages unknown to Cleodora, a sea of changing faces disorientating her.

While the nymph was a vision in a rose dress, submerged in water, her dark hair splayed around her face, the lazy water stream slowly carrying her past lily pads and various flowers, Cleodora's visions were anything but pretty and peaceful.

As such, when she was permitted respite randomly, the nymph sat up suddenly, her legs hitting the pebbled floor beneath her, and her eyes draining of all traces of pink. The sense of peace and calm in the area was disrupted by Cleodora dragging her wet frame from the water so she could lie on the bank exhausted. If there was ever a reason to cease all visits to the Kyngeshed in the future it was this. Taverns lead to bad decisions, and bad decisions always seemed to circle back to the gift she had no control over and no desire to practice.

The nymph huffed and rolled onto her side so she was looking across the wide, shallow stream. The sound of an unfamiliar splash caught the weary nymph, and it was with a wary gaze that she sat up and turned to see who or what had joined her.

[romirola]

Hello my friend! I finally have a second to play the title game with you! 💜 Would you be willing to share a little bit about something in your one-shot WIP doc that you’re the most excited about? 😁

~Star🌟

Hiya, @starlitangels! Thank you so much for the invitation to share!

I love soliciting prompts because I love writing something that I know will make someone smile. It's a privilege to be trusted with someone's blorbo, OC, favorite trope, etc etc, so I always struggle to ensure that I'm bringing the characters and stories to life in the best of my abilities. Something that is exciting about asking for requests is that you often get the chance to write characters you don't often write. That's what happened when @slushiepizza requested a Geordi/Cutie oneshot. Usually, if that pair appears in my writing, they are more side characters rather than main, but Slushie's prompt gave me the opportunity to focus on this pair! I'll share a snippet of that one here as I look forward to sharing the finished product once these oneshots get posted.

(TW: Aftermath of alcohol consumption)

“Hungover,” they concluded. Cutie pushed themselves up against the pillows with their elbows. “So hungover. Like, oh-man-did-I-drink-an-entire-ocean-of-alcohol level of hungover.” They brought their knees towards their chest. 

“Well, it wasn’t that much,” Geordi recalled brightly. “But close.” He settled the pillow to support them as they sat up. “You seemed like you were having a good time, though.” 

“Did I?” Cutie thought hard, trying to scrape up their memories through a sea of blurred images. 

<strong>The Telepathic Oversight Team happy hour. “The Department’s buying. Let’s put them in debt!” A special, blue-and-green cocktail that tasted like fruit and spice. Then another. And another. Dancing with Geordi on the floor. Dancing on the table. Hanging off of Geordi’s shoulders and whooping like a lunatic.</strong>

“I didn’t,” Cutie gaped. 

“Oh, you did,” Geordi giggled. “You sure did.”