#when is this man gonna drop fucking dead

[diggingoutmygrave]

.

[100-gar]

Controversial take but i watched all of jjk, in subbed, so it had my full attention 100% of the time, and i am of the opinion that it just fucking sucks.

So me and my wife were talking about it, and we were trying to figure out why people like it and we've come up short. I do not understand what's so appealing about this show for so many people. Can someone PLEASE tell me.

[nightmarecountry]

corinth2 and frankie pre-morpheus: weird but kind of sweet friendship, ride or die for one another

during-morpheus: the above but now it's getting kind of freaky and psychosexual???? it's mostly fine though they're fine. a friendship can be you, your eldritch boyfriend, and your eldritch boyfriend's dog who likes to watch you fuck, it's fine, whatever

post-morpheus: what the fuck is going on here

[annieisyourfavourite]

[ID: a tweet from J.K. Rowling (posted at 11:28 AM on March 27, 2023). The text reads: "It was recently discovered that those given transfusions of blood from the opposite sex had poorer outcomes, including fatalities. (Stumbled across this fact while researching my book Troubled Blood.)"

She then includes this link:

End ID]

The sequel ‘Skull Measuring for beginners’ is scheduled for 2025.

[gutsby]

Make It Stick

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (I’m sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldn’t go with a gun.

Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk

Word count: 4.7k

He should’ve gotten snipped when he had the chance.

Should’ve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctor’s offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:

‘Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, DON’T—’

Words like those normally worked. With women that weren’t you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.

But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t seem to think straight when it came to this fixation he’d developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:

“J-J-Joel—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—I’m gonna CUM.”

And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.

Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldn’t even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.

If he had it his way, he would’ve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasn’t giving him too much trouble.

But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.

With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above you—‘Sweet girl, you’re so fuckin’ good to me’—and watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.

Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.

No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.

Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.

Where the FUCK was his cum?

In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simply…cum without noticing. Shit like that just didn’t happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when he’d wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.

He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.

“No, Joel!” you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, “Another round and I’m gonna combust, you old perv!”

But Joel wasn’t looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, ‘What the hell, Joel?!’ hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.

You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.

“Last time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,” you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.

Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.

“Hold still,” he grunted.

“How come?”

“‘Cause I said.”

How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.

“Wanna sleep,” you groaned, about to roll your eyes.

But you couldn’t deny you liked being doted on by him.

Joel’s touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.

He appeared to be deep in thought—a rare sight for anyone who’d seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time he’d blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.

He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:

“Jo-el—”

“Can ya…push, baby?” His eyes flitted up quickly.

“Push?”

“Yeah, just…” With a look you couldn’t quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, “Like this. Like you’re squeezin’ somethin’ out.”

You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.

Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely would’ve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.

And twisted even further when you ‘pushed’ like you did.

At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretched—no novel concept to you, who’d spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasn’t until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.

You let out a low, tender, ‘Mmph’ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joel’s face turned grave.

He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.

You were young—too young to know better. Too sweet and naïve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore he’d be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear he’d relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was old—too old to be doing this shit.

Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.

“Joel, what’s—”

“When’s the last time you— you— uh…bled?”

Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasn’t talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.

“Like two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?”

Well, fuck.

Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sink’s edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.

“Why?” you tried again. Softer this time.

An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.

“You see this?” Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, “Y’know what it means, right?”

You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.

“Yeah. But…you’re old,” came your answer at length.

You’re old.

Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasn’t quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.

“What’s me bein’ old got to do with anything?” A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, “‘m sorry, baby, just— gotta get this out of you.”

You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?

For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.

“Maria says old folks are, uh…infertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,” you said, breaths labored.

Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.

“Menopause,” he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, “is a woman thing.”

What the hell were they teaching in Jackson’s sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasn’t the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasn’t exactly the community’s highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.

He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.

“S-So, you—” You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, “You’re sayin’…men can make babies…whenever?”

You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicament—of being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.

Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.

Deeper, Joel, keep…pushing in…dee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if he’d just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you should’ve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbing—

“—whole lotta problems for us if you’re, uh…ovulating,” Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadn’t heard the first part of that sentence and didn’t care to.

“Ovulating,” you repeated slowly. Indifferent.

Joel carried on without a hitch.

“Kids just ain’t fit for this world. I know you know that.”

You nodded along, not hearing a word.

“And if you’re— if y’ever did consider, maybe…”

Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joel’s fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.

“…y’oughta start a family with someone your own age—”

That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:

“My own age?”

Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that weren’t just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler source—your foot.

You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.

“What?”

“What?”

Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joel’s shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.

“When’s that ev…ever stopped us from doing it before, hm?” you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, “Thought you liked sayin’ you’d make me a mama.”

Joel’s face flooded pink at the recollection—as a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: ‘That’s different.’

And it was, to some extent. Joel wasn’t blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, you’d loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissed—‘Can we please go home now, baby?’—that Joel was certain he’d been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.

This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.

“Baby, hey, hey, no—” Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.

No, no, no. You weren’t thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.

Smiling a little, too.

“What are you— no, honey, don’t— you can’t,” Joel’s words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth he’d just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.

“What are you doin’? This ain’t…no, baby, it ain’t…safe.”

Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.

“What’s wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.”

You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.

“I just told you,” he huffed, “You’re too young—”

“I’m plenty old, Joel,” you returned, eyes snapping open, “You’ve shown me that more times than I can count.”

Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.

“Baby…”

To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He would’ve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.

Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legs—eyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.

You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as they’d go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.

It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.

Feels nice.

Tastes alright, too.

You’d licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.

“Maybe I don’t want babies with someone my own age.”

Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldn’t get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didn’t stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.

And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old man’s happy trail—your favorite ones—you smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, you’d repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didn’t have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.

“Don’t you think I’d look pretty?” You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joel’s cock—of course he’d grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.

Joel cursed under his breath.

“‘Course I do…” he said, voice hoarse, “Y’always look—”

“I mean…with your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.”

As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again

“You don’t—” Joel choked out, nearly incensed, “—don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’, baby. What that means.”

In truth, there wasn’t a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by him—a man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.

He communicated as much by moving to pull out.

You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.

“I know more than enough, old man—” Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, “—who do you think taught me all this?”

Of course, it had been Joel.

Always, always him—the only one, in fact.

Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:

‘Make her full. Make her yours. Tell any man who’d even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.’

He couldn’t.

Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.

But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.

“You like this…don’t you, Joel?” Your voice was tiny.

“I do.”

In fact, he loved it.

“Then why can’t we?” Why shouldn’t we?

Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your face—and out of Joel, all common sense from his brain—leaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.

Idiocy.

“Just once?” Joel croaked.

Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.

“Just one?” you murmured back.

He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joel’s hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.

“Once,” he repeated, not thinking too deeply.

“One,” you said, with a world of more purpose.

Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.

“One?” Joel panted. Confused.

He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joel’s shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.

“One more of you, I mean.” You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell you’d actually meant it.

Joel’s cheeks flushed again, but he didn’t stop, either.

“Baby…” he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an ‘o’ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheek—maybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: “One’a me takes and I’m givin’ ya fifteen more, y’hear?”

The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldn’t have believed it even if you’d said the words yourself. Joel’s thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.

In disbelief, “Wanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?”

Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.

“Make your old man a daddy, is that it?”

Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.

To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joel’s brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as she’d let him in and told him no, that’s gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, that’s likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.

“That is what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”

Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.

That’s all he’s ever wanted.

Let the neighbors talk.

Let them say what they wanted to say—it was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naïve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:

“That what you want, too, darlin’?” More serious now.

The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasn’t just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.

Something to stick.

“Please say it, baby.”

Someone to call yours.

“I want it,” you said, sounding desperate.

A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joel’s and begged him for more.

“Want what?” He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.

“Want you,” you breathed, “Inside me, Joel, please.”

As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadn’t even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmured, “Right here?”

“Ri— right there. Right there.”

Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joel’s release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Hope our baby has your eyes,” you murmured to him.

It shouldn’t have had such a strong effect—but of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.

Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. He’d clear his whole schedule for it

“That right?” And now he couldn’t stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, “What about their nose?”

He kissed the tip of yours.

“Hope they get this.”

He kissed either one of your cheeks.

“These too.”

You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.

The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joel’s spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldn’t stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, ‘Are you sure?’ and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldn’t be more eager to finish now if he tried.

Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.

There it is.

[toyogamii]

pt.1

shoko has never seen satoru gojo; the strongest, look quite this weak. he’s sprawled across his office desk and the smell of vodka hits her so hard her eyes water.

“what are you doing?” she drawls, eyes flitting around the room as she tries to make sense of the man’s pathetic state.

“y/n?” he slurs and struggles to raise his head up.

shoko sighs.

“not quite.”

she drops her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with her heel as she walks over to him. he finally meets her eyes and she frowns. he looks… dead. the look reminds her of someone long ago… and for a brief moment she’s terrified of the sorcerer in front of her.

“what’s going on gojo?”

he shakes his head and mumbles incoherently, laying back down on his desk. shoko has to force herself to not roll her eyes and she clenches her teeth together.

“you think this is gonna help you?”

she picks up the nearly empty bottle of alcohol and smashes it on the ground.

“you’re fucking pathetic,” she spits, “get yourself up. you’re not… you’re not going to turn out like him no matter what. you’re gonna man up and fix whatever has caused this.”

satoru stares in drunken shock at the smashed bottle. he sighs.

“i can’t… i can’t fix it,” he mutters, “messed it up to bad.”

shoko sighs again.

“did something happen with, y/n?”

he sniffles at the sound of their name coming from shoko’s mouth and gulps.

”i had to protect them,” he whispers, staring emptily at the ground, “i’m dangerous. being around me is dangerous.”

shoko doesn’t know what to say, she watches him as he watches her.

“… you’ve never been the smartest, have you, satoru?”

he scoffs and swings his arm up wildly.

“you’re so mean to me,” he pouts, the momentum from his arm causes him to slide and stumble out of the chair and onto the floor. he groans and flops defeatedly around.

“you’re a mess. stay right here and try not to hurt yourself please.”

— —

satoru doesn’t know when he blacks out or how long he’s been asleep before he hears muffled voices outside the door. his head is pounding but he feels sober enough… unfortunately.

“i don’t know shoko… after what he did…”

“at the very least talk to him, it may give closure for both of you if nothing else.”

there’s silence. then the wooden door creaks open and he winces, flinching away from the light. your blurry form comes into vision. god you’re just as beautiful as the day he left.

“satoru,” you say.

your voice is like honey to his ear, so sweet and soothing. he lifts his head, his blue eyes shining. it’s been weeks but it’s felt like years. your hand comes done to touch his cheek and he shivers, his eyes almost rolling back at the feeling of your skin on his again.

“what’s going on?”

“i miss you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your palm. you instinctively stroke your thumb along his cheek bone.

“you cheated on me. you… you left me.”

he shakes his head.

“no.”

you raise an eyebrow and cup his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“what do you mean, no?”

“i could never cheat on you.”

the way he says never almost makes you swallow hard.

“you told me you did.”

”i… lied,” he admits, shame in his voice. you freeze.

“you what?”

he groans and pulls away from you, finally sitting up fully and facing you properly. he wants you in his arms so badly.

“i lied,” he sighs, “i thought it would be better… I thought i was protecting us both.”

he feels the sting of your slap before he can fully process what happened.

“that’s for fake cheating on me.”

he gapes at you, hand coming to his cheek.

“you hit me?!”

“you deserved it.”

“… you’re right.”

you sigh one last time before leaning in and kissing him. you still taste just like strawberries and mint, he thinks.

“and that is because i’m stupid enough to still love you after all this.”

[methoughtsphantom]

HELL YEAH CROWN PRINCE PHANTOM whose ectoplasmic signature readings are obviously higher than that of his dad’s, who’s still filtering the corrupted ectoplasm and that takes time, (which is why he only wears the crown and not the ring.) So imagine, imagine that the imaginary of the vengeful angel was only visible to Danny, just like the crown, like imperceptible to human eyes kinda thing. To Batman Red Hood is just another ecto-entity who caught him off guard, and so he has to be better prepared. He goes see the JLD to ask for more information about these entities. They tell him one is the ghost king. Cuz mages can get a read in signatures and one is off the charts level powerful, or maybe Batman just had a scanner I dunno, point is Batman wrongly deduces whose the ghost king in this situation. After all, only one was able to actually display a tangible supernatural form and readings that remained steady during the scan. ((Jason’s are unreliable, funky if he’s not trying and bitch-you-better-start-running if he is.))

So. Batman wants to summon the ghost king. He doesn’t see a reason to involve the JL, just him and Constantine, who’s like ?? I heard there was new management, but…so new that the king’s a literal child?? okay I gotta see this. im putting a bunch of binds and spells so the ghost won’t be able to cross the summoning circle. Like Constantine just has Batman’s initial assessment and a power chart. Bruce’s detailed report indicates the kid has no experience on battle combat and instead just heavily relies on his powers (list of known powers not conclusive), but is still a threat that knows his and his associates secret identity. Curiously, the Bat also put that the kid is heavily suspected of being emotionally compromised.

Anyways

They expect a child.

They get the Red Hood.

Red Hood, who is still a bat, and still trained with assassins. Motherfucker whose ectoplasm readings are again so funky he can pass through the summoning’s restrains and binds as if they are not there. He’s such a little shit about how he’s sprinting the whole thing. He’s ghost adjacent enough he can turn intangible. He’s an expert on combat who can fucking predict what the bat’s planning to pull because he fought alongside him. Dramatic bitch saw Batman and immediately went to throw hands. Especially when the the Bat tries to pull off a gun on him.

Jason: oh so you’re using guns now??? you’re really such a hypocrite!!

Batman: I’m not the one whose letting a child cover for their criminal activities!!

…

Batman, at some point: I would never hurt my own son!!

Jason:

Jason: 🤡

…

Batman: how do you know our identities???

Jason, who didn’t know B knew he knew and who also had a pretty hardcore pretty little liars phase ✨: two can keep a secret if one of them is dead. bitch.

Batman:

Batman: this is confirmation. a dead figure from my past told him i’m Batman

…..

Batman, who’s still trying to see an angle to the Red Hood: You are obviously unfit to take care of a child

Jason:

Danny, 15 and thoroughly done with everyone's crap, steals the Crown of Fire and the Skeleton Key and uses the later to find a suitable new High King for the Infinite Realms. The key (also known as Deaths kay) acted like a sort of Infi-map but lacked the limitations of needing a natural portal to spawn in that time/location and could get you past any wards/protections no mater how powerful.

The key spawns him just in front of the form of a sleeping Jason Todd, and Danny decided he wasn't going to question the magical keys judgment and just plops the crown on a bleary and startled Jasons head.

The crown burned for this guy, signaling that it found him worthy and that was more than enough for Danny.

With no context whatsoever, Danny looked Jason in the eye, burning neon green meeting with wide greenish blue, "You're our king now."

Then he vanished.

Jason later finds that the Lazarus entity left behind a handmade pamphlet. It was immensely unhelpful.

[darby-rowe]

ᯓ today, I feel like pleasing you.

KINKTOBER 1ST. DAD'S BEST FRIEND!LOGAN HOWLETT X BUB!READER.

18+ | nsfw | mdni wc. 1.2k+ cw/tags. FAUXCEST, age gap (r is 21+), brief cunnilingus & blowjob, first time, p in v, usage of the phrase "little girl", unprotected sex, creampie, not proofread notes. happy kinktober 1st you freaks! here's the smutty installment in the dbf!logan x bub universe. sorry if you don't like it. title is taken from Today by Jefferson Airplane.

The first kiss was troublesome.

Locked away in the far corner of your queen-sized bed, his hands gently guiding itself up your leg, then it happened.

There was so much alcohol in his breath you swore you yourself must have gotten drunk off the way he breathed life into you. Yet the supposed life that found itself nesting in your lungs was something you’ve never felt before.

Taboo. Horribly, horribly wrong.

The kiss made your stomach feel queasy every time it entered your mind after the fact, however it made you feel like you were walking on air as well. Your dirty little secret, safely carried in the arms of you and Logan Howlett.

Your father would drop dead.

Things progressed after the kiss. He became more bold, touching you in more forbidden places that no man has ever touched before. It was all so new. Exciting. There was a rush that clouded your brain every time the older man gave you attention.

“Let your uncle take care of you,” he’d whisper to you.

Every single time.

Oh, it was dirty. So fucking dirty how the tone of his voice had you knowing he meant it. Your “uncle”. His “niece”. His pretty, young, smart, and bright niece who was so fucking ripe and ready to be eaten. The noises he made as his tongue swirled your already swollen clit, locking your fingers into his thick hair, wanting to grind against his hot tongue but ultimately being locked down by his strong arms.

Your hand slapped itself across your mouth each time you had to make a noise, desperately muffling the sounds of dirty dancing happening in your own bed. Your other hand kept jumping from fisting the sheets to fisting Logan’s hair to squeezing your own breast. In this state of being stimulated far beyond your own comprehension, you just didn’t know how to handle your body.

“Fuck,” you squeaked, feeling his nails unintentionally dig into your flesh, your thighs shaking as you grow closer and closer to making a mess of his beard.

It wasn’t planned, the sob that left your mouth when Logan pulled away just as you were about to see god.

“Why did you—”

“Legs up, bub,” Logan cut you off, making you gasp as he threw your legs back, completely spread open to him and any curious being who could walk in at any moment. You instinctually go to close your legs and cover your face, but he’s just so strong. So determined to watch as he takes you for the first time ever.

“Look at me, pretty girl,” he whispered, taking your hands off your face. You laid bare to him, like you had never laid bare to anyone before. Vulnerable and wet just for him.

The look on his face as he scanned you up and down in the position you were basically forced into will never leave your mind.

“Gonna make you feel good, ‘kay, bub?”

You just nodded, mind racing with how many possible roads this could go down. Everything felt like a blur as Logan unzipped his jeans, fishing out his rock-hard cock and began to stroke it in front of you. He was leaking at the tip, balls so full and swollen you could only imagine how long ago it was since he last jerked off.

He asked if you wanted a taste, and it took you a moment to consider. You’ve only ever fellated fake cocks in silicone form, and even so they were tiny in comparison to the monster hiding in Logan’s pants.

You nodded again, opening your mouth as he slipped in his cock inside past your lips. He fucking groaned upon first contact with your tongue, being careful to not shove his whole cock down your throat.

But you could tell that he really, really wanted to.

You felt your jaw begin to ache while keeping it open for his size. If you closed your eyes, you could concentrate on the subtle throb of his shaft, and the way your saliva accumulated around him. You were slicking him up just for you — to make the process easier.

He pulled out of your mouth right when you were beginning to memorize his taste, and it slightly disappointed you as you were enjoying your oral fixation being satiated. Your lips, parted slightly and drenched in your own spit, and Logan’s cock making its way to your swollen, soaked pussy.

He made sure to warn you just before sliding himself in. You couldn’t lie, it was a stretch, and it was an odd feeling to situate yourself in. You wanted to say that it hurt but that was untrue.

Just odd. Foreign. But not painful at all.

In fact, Logan was even surprised when you told him you were okay. Before you knew it, he was effortlessly sliding his dick in and out of you until it turned into him pounding into your pussy, arms wrapped around you as he held you close.

You had reason to believe this is when Logan fell apart.

You bit down hard on your bottom lip, keeping in all the lewd and pornographic noises that wanted to escape you, but some whimpers and small moans escaped.

“‘S good, bub?” Logan grunted in your ear, eliciting a shaky yes from you, digging your nails into his back and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your eyes screwed shut, concentrating on that familiar throb you felt in your mouth just moments ago.

If someone came up to you and asked you how it felt to get fucked like this, you wouldn’t know how to answer. It was just good. Fucking great, even. You wanted to sob, cry, wail out to Logan how good he was making you feel.

“Oh my little girl. My fucking little girl,”

He was like an animal in your ear: grunting and growling as he pounded you with little regard. He was getting louder, nastier. Treating you like a pocket pussy he had a forbidden affair with.

However, the way his arms locked around you as he buried his face in your neck made you feel a type of intimacy you had never felt before. Something so primal yet affectionate, making dirty noises in your ear as he fucked you. Taking your sweet virginity that he so desperately chased after for months.

“Tell me how good uncle Logan is fucking you,” he panted into your neck.

It was hard to form words. Your mouth opened and tiny choked sobs managed to crawl out of your throat, but no words.

“You gotta tell me, baby,” he panted again. But this time, there was a tinge of desperation edging his plea, like he could fucking tear up at any moment. Begging. “Tell me how good your uncle is fucking his little girl,”

Your virgin pussy throbbed, clenching around his cock.

“‘S good, uncle Logan. Fuck me. Fuck me, please…”

It took you by surprise how fast Logan emptied himself inside you, feeling his seed pump deep, knowing his balls were pulsating as they shot out cum. That knowledge was enough to make you cream around his dick, biting down on his shoulder to keep yourself quiet.

The moments after were uncomfortably quiet, with him still holding you with his cock softening inside you.

Your breath steadies. Your mind clears. And your body cools.

Your dad would murder Logan if he found out about this.

[bigwishes]

Forced Freak

Tyson was a uni drop out, nothing special about him other than his pretty face and dedication to his diet. He had no real hobbies and no real friends. The only reason people paid him any real attention was because of his body. However guys got pretty turned off after a one night stand with him when they'd wake up and Tyson would have written them critiques about how to improve their bodies and performance in the bedroom.

Tyson was the worst kind of gym bro, not because he had no real personality, but because he was an asshole with no real personality, in fact when he wasn't coming home from the gym, taking selfies in the mirror or scrolling on grinder for someone to bounce on his waist he spent a large portion of his time staring in the mirror admiring his own perfection.

"fuck yeah, I'm probably the hottest guy alive" he'd say as he rubbed his own crotch.

His arrogant attitude had essentially transformed him into a self obsessed autosexual, whilst he enjoyed sex and having a guy put in all the work whilst he laid back in pleasure he still preferred a night to himself and his mirror.

Tyson flexed his arm one last time, admiring the perfection before him before he turned off his alarm and got up to go to the gym.

"well, I'll see you when I get home handsome" he said winking at his own reflection and snapping his underwear band.

He threw on the folded red tank top and black gym shorts he had lying on his dresser, the ones he had steamed the night before. As he walked out the door he picked up his glass from his morning water and placed it neatly in the dishwasher before turning it on and leaving for the gym.

Upon arriving at the gym Tyson walked into the welcome area where he found 3 tall bodybuilders lined up at the key scanner. Tyson rolled his eyes and tried to avoid contact with them, he hated those freaks. The guys who willingly chose to inflate themselves with disgusting amounts of muscle. Who could barely fit in their cars and he huffed and sweat like bovine beasts when they got on the treadmill.

Tyson quickly got impatient and began tapping his foot as the 3 meatheads were holding up the line.

"are you beasts gonna scan in or am I just waiting here all day"

The three turned their heads to them almost in unison

"yoo you think we are beasts huhu" one flexed his enormous bicep that dwarfed Tyson's head

"hey Ty, what up lil dude. Wanna hit bench with us today? we we can help you grow that chest"

Tyson was disgusted at the thought of working out with the three of them and smelling their terrible stench or listening to them heaving for air.

"no thanks, its hard to improve upon perfection" Tyson said with a smirk

"aw come on dude, you can always improve and get bigger, you aint even close to your limit"

"and I dont want to be" Tyson said with a disgusted frown and one raised eyebrow

There was a loud ding and the three bodybuilders began waddling and shuffling their way through the electronic gate into the gym, having to turn sideways slightly to get their hulking frames in the turn gate.

"This is what I mean" laughed Tyson

"haha, can't blame us for being absolute units man"

"But doesn't it annoy the fuck out of you being like that?"

"no way bro, being this big is fucking awesome"

the three bodybuilders all began laughing and flexing

"I'm sorry I really dont see how turning myself into a...freak would be awesome"

There was a dead silence as the three bodybuilders stopped laughing and turned to him.

"that's a bit of a harsh word bro"

"yeah man don't diss the hobby coz you aint into it"

Tyson smirked flicking as he polished his fitness watch with the edge of his jumper "dude I dont think anyone is into it"

"what the fuck is that supposed to mean"

"umm being so big you have no style because you cant fit into anything, constantly covered in sweat marks, you reek after just a few minutes of exercise, you gulp down water like an elephant who hasn't drunk in a year, can barely fit in your cars and take up so much space, plus I like when guys find me attractive and aren't grossed out by my monstrous body" Tyson turned his back placing his gym bag in the locker completely unaware that the three men he had just insulted looked so red their heads could pop with anger.

"I'LL LET YOU KNOW MY HUSBAND LOOOOVVVEEESSS MY SIZE" the bodybuilder in the middle yelled through his teeth

"whoooaa jayce" the two others said in unison as they grabbed him by the chest and stopped him taking a step forward

"don't shoot the messenger buddy but Im pretty sure your husband wouldn't be disappointed if you lost 30-40lsb of muscle, pretty sure he'd enjoy date night without sitting across from a behemoth stuffing himself so full of protein like a slob"

Jayce threw his arms up in the air and pushed his two friends off of him turning around and walking away.

Tyson ignored the interaction implying pulling his towel and drink bottle out of his gym bag.

"You know what you need Ty..."

"and what's that Mark?" Tyson tiredly asked rolling his eyes

"A real good bulk, make ya real big, that'll change your mind" Mark smirked looking at his friend who was smiling back.

"whatever" Tyson groaned as he walked off into the gym.

---

A few hours had passed and Tyson was in the changing room admiring himself after his workout. It was enough to pump him to that perfect spot where he looked just slightly bigger and was a little sore, but not enough to make him sweat or stimulate the sort of growth a lot of gym guys were after.

Tyson flexed one bicep and ran his other hand down his thigh feeling himself get hard.

"Oh yeah handsome, just wait till I get you in my bed" He smirked at his own reflection.

Just then he heard the sound to the changing rooms open, his hand quickly shot up from his thigh, not wanting anyone to see his moment of lust.

He watched in the mirror as Jayce rounded the corner, his massive and wide shoulders causing him to bump into subway tiled wall. A massive smile lit up on Jayce's face as he saw Tyson standing there.

"Yep" Jayce yelled out

Dylan quickly followed behind and began walking towards Tyson, not that he thought much of it.

"Grab his left Dylan?"

"No worried Jayce"

Tyson was shocked as the two hulking bodybuilders suddenly grabbed hold of his arms and used what felt like all of their strength to sandwich him between them.

"h-HEY WHAT THE FUCK GET OFF" Tyson struggled and squirmed to get out of there grip but it felt like he was being pressed between two stone walls, he was unable to do anything other than pathetically kick his legs.

Just then Tyson heard the door to the changing rooms lock as Mark rounded the corner.

"Mark!, tell your fucking boys to let me go!"

The three bodybuilder's laughed as Mark walked closer holding a strange metal container in his hand that resembled a protein shaker.

"Hey lil dude" Said Mark with a big smirk across his face

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THREE WANT" Tyson snapped.

"to prove you wrong man" Jayce whispered

'w-what" Tyson continued to flounder and squirm to no avail

"you said being a bodybuilder sucked, well we are gonna prove you wrong" Dylan smirked tightly squeezing Tyson's arms

"h-how, Im not gonna start bodybuilding because you three threaten me"

"oh there is no threat bud, we have got something we want to try but dont know about the side effects wanna test it"

"ARE YOU GONNA JAB MY ASS FULL OF ROIDS" Tyson squeaked pathetically

"no dude, of course not" Said Mark

"we already know the side effects to roids" laughed Jayce

Mark grabbed onto Tyson's perfect hair and forcefully pulled his head back, Tyson couldn't see but he felt Jayce wrap his giant muscular arm around his pinning his between Jayce's bulky bicep and forearm and grabbing his cheeks forcing his jaw open.

"bottoms up pretty boy" Mark said as he flicked the cap off the contained with his thumb and shoved the mouth piece into Tyson's mouth.

"MMMMM -MMMM -MMMMMMM!!!!!!" Tyson tried to yell but his mouth was full of a strange thick liquid.

Mark dropped the contained and grabbed Tyson's nose still forcing the container to his lips

"gotta drink if you wanna breathe buddy"

Tyson couldn't hold it any longer

GULP...GULP...GULP.....GULP

Tyson sucked down what was in his mouth and what continued to pour from the container, when the last drop was drunk and all he could taste was air the three bodybuilders all let go in unison and Tyson dropped to the ground gasping for air.

"How long does it take to work Mark?"

"errr container says a few minutes for a start and a week for full effects"

Tyson couldn't concentrate on what the three were talking about, his body began to feel like it was being super heated, like his muscles and bones were being fried into pudy.

Tyson's hand began to tremble, as he looked at it pressed against the cold tiled floor he noticed his thumb enlarging, getting longer and thicker, it spread to all his fingers and his hand, at first he thought it was an allergic reaction but it wasn't puffy or fat, it was hard solid and defined, like all the muscles in his hands were suddenly expanding, he watched as his handed swelled up to the size of dinner plates as veins in his arms and forearms pumped in sync with his heart beat.

His forearms stared growing outwards and he felt his already tight and pumped biceps ache as they swelled even bigger. Seeing his reflection in the mirror he looked like a bad art project as different parts of his body were swelling with size and different times, his shoulders got wider as his calves got bigger, his pecs inflated as his feet grew out of his shoes, his abs bloated into a semi roid gut as his quads quickly filled with blood, and his ass pumped up into a big meaty globe as his traps crept up his back swallowing his necks.

after just a few minutes the three bodybuilders were stunned looking down at the sweaty bulky mess that was Tyson on the floor of the changing room.

Tyson had watched the whole thing in the mirror but still he couldn't recognise himself, what had happened, what they did to him.

He looked like one of them, a bodybuilder.

"w-what did you do to me" Tyson moaned, out of breath and out of energy

"damn, he got huge so quick, and he still has a week to go?"

"please, no, no bigger, turn me back"

the three bodybuilders began to have a conversation around Tyson like he wasn't even there as he tried to pick himself up off the floor. A few minutes passed and Tyson finally stood up. He felt uncomfortable, muscles he didn't even know where near each other rubbed up against each other like every aspect of his body was fighting for space.

Tyson looked at himself horrified in the mirror at the big bulky freak he had become.

"oh fuck..m..my perfect body" he turned to the three men behind him "please, please you gotta turn me back"

"you still got a week of growin left bud" Mark replied

"PLEASE I CAN'T GET BIGGER"

Jayce smirked trying to contain his laughter

"Look dude, we said we were gonna show you how being a bodybuilder is awesome, let it go for a week and we'll check back in and if you still hate it, we'll turn you back"

Tyson turned back to his reflection and flexed, freaked out by his bicep being larger than his own head.

"see, its already awesome, see you later dude"

The three bodybuilders started walking out of the changing room

"no WAIT!!"

Tyson ran over to his bag feeling the weight of his new body with every step and feeling his hard muscles bounce. He leant over and swung his bag over his shoulder. He watched as the door closed behind the three and he ran to catch up. Every step was a chore, it was like an entire workout for just one leg to hold up the weight of his new massive body.

By the time he reached the door Tyson doubled over gasping for air, he placed his giant meaty hand on the wall and slid down the the floor, he had only run a few feet but it felt like he had just done and three hours of cardio without a break, he felt the sweat running down his back and struggled to come up with a reason anyone would want to be this big, why guys would dedicate their lives to become titans.

it took 15 minutes, for Tyson to catch his breath and stand up again and by the time that happened the three he was after were already gone, he walked through the gym defeated hoping nobody would recognise him. He made it to the turn gate and as he went to go through he felt a hard pressing against his shoulders. Not at all used to his new size Tyson hadn't adjusted the angle that he approached the gate and found himself stuck between the two steel bars. Tyson pushed with his back leg but didn't realise the power behind his colossal quads as he easily pushed himself out but he couldn't stop the moment and he came tumbling forward face first onto the floor in front and multiple gym attendants.

"woah, you okay big guy" one of them asked,

Tyson looked up and saw the other two doing their best not to laugh.

"yeah I'm fine!" Tyson tried to get up as fast as he could but the sheer weight of his frame meant it was an awkward step by step process that took almost a whole minute.

Tyson quickly raced out the doors as fast as his could but once again misjudged his giant muscles and his two shoulders slammed into the automatic doors not realising they weren't wide enough for him. A loud bang rang out and Tyson looked back as the glass automatic doors wobbled and shook, and ounce more pressure and they would have surely crashed down around him.

Tyson waddled through the car park desperate to get to his car. Swinging open the door he quickly realised why he had never seen a bodybuilder in a sleek sports car, he didn't fit, just one leg stepped in and there wasn't any more room for him to squeeze in. He tried everything, moving the seat back, moving the wheel up, but still he didn't fit. After about 10 minutes of doing everything he could think of to get in he just decided to force his way in.

Sliding into the car he felt cramped, and when he closed the driver's door it bounced off his arm and swung back open denting the car next to him. Tyson tried again leaning all the way into his car and shutting the door. It shut but as he sat back up he found himself on an awkward angle to the wheel, he tried to adjust himself to roll down the window so he could stick his arm out and get more space but as he placed his arm down on the leather seat to push his own body out the way he heard a loud tearing. His clothes didn't feel loser and he couldn't see what had torn but it sounded bad...

When Tyson arrived home he squeezed himself out of his car, it felt like being freed from a sardine can but as he turned around to shut his door he had found the source of the tearing noise from earlier, in the centre of the seat, directly under where he was, was now a large split right down the leather, seats that cost over a thousand dollars to fix split apart like paper, and that wasn't the worst of it, he looked at the lower back of the seat to see how the leather had warped and swollen from the amount of sweat that had been pressed against it.

"AW MAN" Tyson moaned slammed his car door, not realising the force his arms were able to put behind it and as the door lodged into place his hand carried the momentum behind it straight into the metal of the car leaving a large dent from his palm.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME"

Tyson stormed over to his front door just wanting the day to end. He pulled up his keys to the front door and fumbled for a few minutes as he struggled to sort though them with his massive meaty fingers, finally he got in the door and shut it behind him as gently as he could which still resulted in a slam.

His stomach let out a loud groan, he had never felt so hungry so sudden in his life, Tyson tried to walk to the kitchen but realised it was more of a waddle has his massive muscular thighs slammed into each other. Arriving in front of his fridge he opened it up and grabbed one of his already made meals out and placed it in the microwave to heat up. He watched in spinning round and heard his stomach grumble as the 2 minutes felt like an entirety. Finally he heard the beep and opened up the microwave to devour his meal. What normally would have left him feeling full for hours didn't even make a dent in his hunger. Tyson opened up his fridge and moved on to his next meal without even heating it up, then another, then a protein shake to wash it down, then another meal and a couple apples, along with a banana or two, and of course he had to pull some of the muffins out of the freezer to defrost to have a bit later.

Tyson sat on his couch, feeling groggy and finally full. He looked around him, plates, protein shakers, wrappers and plastic containers were spread out all over his lounge room from the floor to the coffee table. He felt so heavy he didn't want to get up, he just wanted to pass out on his couch and go to sleep. As his eyes began to drift close...

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

The loudest belch he had ever heard forced him to jolt awake.

"aw fuc-uuuuUUURRPPP, this place is a mess"

Tyson finally realised he had trashed his lounge room in his feeding frenzy, he got up to try and clean but he didn't get very far. His body was so massive it was hard to move between his furniture and it was hard for him to constantly bend down to pick stuff up. On his second trip back from the kitchen to clean the last of the mess he finally noticed where he had been sitting, and the enormous sweat patch pressed into the fabric.

He pulled his tight tank top out from his body realising it looked like he had never washed it in his life.

"god, I need a fucking shower"

He made his way down the hall to the bathroom where he was shocked by his own reflection. He knew he had been turned into a hulking behemoth but, he looked like a completely different person now. His tank top was tight and clung to his body as his pecs hung out the sides. It was covered in sweat patches and strains from spilt protein shakes and food. His face was covered in a coat of sweat and his hair was oiler than he'd ever seen before. Tyson's gut churned as he let out another belch. He suddenly felt a tightness in his pants and he got hard.

"what the fuck..."

Tyson lifted up one arm to flex his bicep, he watched the sweat running down from his pits to his lats, he swallowed a quick gulp of air expecting maybe a small burp but was greeted with a massive room shaking belch. Tyson couldn't help it, he got rock solid staring at his sweaty body and hearing his own manly belching.

He worked his hand down awkwardly to his dick and started to pleasure himself.

He couldn't work it out, he missed his perfect body, he missed his old self, he was grossed out by being such a freak but god he was too horny to not please himself.

Right before his big moment he felt a wave of heat surge out into his body, his clothes felt tighter and suddenly the left strap of his tank top snapped as his shoulder, pec and arm practically doubled in size.

"AAH NO, NO NOT AGAIN"

Tyson watched as his dirty tank was torn to shreds by his growing body. His shorts felt tighter and tighter, soon he felt the sound of ripping fabric. As he turned to the side to inspect his growing legs he saw as his muscled ass split his pants in the back and the fabric quickly tore through making his shorts look like a bad loin clothe prop from a Halloween costume.

"OH FUCK NO, STOP, STOP AHHHH"

Tyson could only watch as his body continued to rapidly grow in the mirror...

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

3 weeks later

Tyson leant back on the workout bench groaning and gasping for air. It was the most he had ever lifted, not that he wanted to get bigger but it was the only thing he could do with his day at this point.

He heard the noise of 3 guys cheering as Mark, Jayce and Dyaln approached him.

"HEY BIG MAN" Said Mark

"oh great, what do you guys want"

"relax big guy, just wanted to bring you a snack" Dylan laughed as he pulled out a paper bag of drive through crispy chicken and handed it to Tyson.

"Dont forget to wash it down" said Jayce handing him a protein shake

Tyson didn't have the will power to hold back, his new muscle and size burnt so much fuel from simple existing he was practically starving constantly. He immediately reached into the bag and started eating as much as he could as fast as he could, washing it down with a swig of the protein shake, only taking breaks to gasp for air.

A river of chocolate protein ran down his cheek and dripped onto his XXXL tank top, which looked more like a medium crop top on him.

A young handsome gym attendant walked over to the group with a smile on his face.

"hey guys, just a reminder, you can't eat like that in here save it for outside okay" He smiled as he looked straight into Tyson's eyes.

Tyson's mind was racing, this guy was the most handsome guy he had ever seen in his life, we wanted to apologise for being such a slob, hell, he wanted to ask the guy on a date.

Tyson rubbed the crumbs and protein from his mouth away with the back of his hand and opened his mouth. Immediately he gritted his teeth and almost by instinct at this point cocked the side of his mouth open.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPP!!

Tyson couldn't help but belch and burp as he struggled to get a word out.

"bro..that's nasty" the gym attendant laughed as he walked away.

Mark, Jayce and Dylan all erupted with laughter.

"DUUUUUUDDEEEE" yelled Dylan

"You aren't gonna get a date like that dude I tell you that" laughed Jayce

"They probably wouldn't date him even if he didn't burp every couple of minutes, I mean who wants to date a bodybuilder freak right guys" Mark laughed as he rubbed Tyson's shoulders

"Yeah, you're right Mark, nobody wants a freak like Tyson" Dylan chuckled.

Tyson couldn't control it, the sound of their laughter, the way the three called him a freak and a slob. His dick got hard and he felt as a mixture of pre and cum leaked into his underwear.

They were never going to change him back, he was going to be stuck as this good for nothing muscle pig, forever....

he threw himself back down on the bench..

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

[krosiefics]

send nudes • bang chan

M D N I 18+

Summary: You accidentally send a nude to Chan and well…he takes it as a chance to act on his hidden feelings

WC: 2.4k

Tags: smut, afab!reader, dom/tease!chan, porn with little plot, piv, unprotected sex (just don't), fingering, oral (f & m receiving), creampie, mutual pinning(?), handjob, chan is a tease, reader calls chan; chris, chan, christopher, channie), use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), not proofread, im prob forgetting some- sorry (brb gonna touch some grass)

“Shit shit shit!” You quickly pulled your shorts back up as panic spread throughout your body. You quickly look at the open messages to see if the picture has been seen yet. Ugh this is why you don’t send nudes! You screamed at yourself. About twenty minutes ago you were flirting over text with this random guy from tinder when it started escalating into pictures being sent, you took a picture and was going to send it to him but you unknowingly sent it to your best friend.

You hadn’t noticed until about five minutes ago when the tinder guy hadn’t replied yet, you noticed the notification of the image sent was under Chan’s contact and well now you’re trying to figure out how to delete the picture.

You already tried deleting it from your messages but that only deletes it on one end not both.

Suddenly the ringing of your phone fuels the flames of your anxiousness. You dwell on whether you should check the caller ID, peeking at the screen your heart drops, it’s Chan. “Oh fuck.” You snatch your phone, not answering it, before running out of your dorm, down the hall towards Chan’s dorm. His dorm isn’t far from yours so by the time you get there your phone is still ringing. As it’s about to hang up you finally answer it, banging on the front door.

The wood door swings open revealing a confused Chan. God you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Hi,” Chan chuckles, not acting like he’s seen something that he wasn’t supposed to, you sigh in relief, “I was about to text you-”

“Don’t do that!” You cut him off, pushing past him to grab his phone. “Hey?!” He exclaims after you snatch his phone, Chan makes a move to grab but you quickly dodge him, opening his messages app.

“Don’t delete it!” Chan huffs out annoyed. You stop, dead in your tracks, Chan takes the chance to take his phone back, shoving it into his pocket. “What do you mean don’t delete it.” You burst, heat spreading throughout your face like a wildfire. When did he see it?! You thought to yourself as you took out your phone and looked back on your messages, it displayed ‘read 1 minute ago’.

“Chan…” You push, when he doesn’t reply simply wearing a smirk on his face you start getting even more flustered, “Christopher! What do you mean don’t delete it?!” Your face is as red as a tomato at this point, your heart pounding so fast you can feel it in your ear.

Chan lets out a bubbly chuckle, you only ever use his real name when you’re either pissed or are in a teasing mood- you are not in a teasing mood, “I’ve got blackmail. And besides, it's fun seeing you flustered.” The smirk he wore was just straight up menacing. “This kind of situation is weird and makes me flustered- Did you just save it?!” You shriek as you watch him take out his phone and scroll through your texts. Chan smirks at you as he shows his phone’s screen, the save button clearly pressed. “Why would even- Chris!” You cry out his name, he finally puts his phone down on the desk by his bed with a shrug.

“You forget I’m a man.” You stand crossed armed as you stare at your best friend, “Yeah okay, but keeping a nude of your best friend is kinda weird.”

“Would you rather me send you one too?” Chan asks calmly as if it weren’t the most absurd thing he’s ever said. You scoff, eyes blown out by his question, sure Chan’s a flirt and likes teasing you, but it's never actually gone this far between the two of you. Just a simple mistake opened this pandora box.

“Who was that meant for anyways?” The Australian asks, sudden curiosity leading him on. “That’s none of your business-“

“Well you sent me the photo, I should at least get an explanation, no?” Chan raises his brows. “The guy from my date the other day.” You admit embarrassingly, Chan lets out a laugh while shaking his head, “The one that you complained about for the next three hours after your date.”

“I was bored okay!” You throw your arms up in defeat, plopping down on his bed.

A few moments of awkward silence washed over the two of you- well more awkward for you- before your phone interrupted the silence. You checked the notification, rolling your eyes as you opened the message from Chan. Holy shit. The grasp you had on your phone loosened as the electronic tumbles onto your face, smacking you right on the forehead. “You that shocked by the picture?” Chan hums in amusement. You gape at him after massaging your sore forehead, “Well no shit, you just sent me a dick pic!” You shove your phone in his face.

On the screen was a picture of Chan’s crotch area. His gray sweats not hiding the boner he obviously sports, his veiny hands holding onto his intimate area. A sudden realization dawned on you, “Did you just take that?” You stared between him and the same colored sweatpants that he wore. Now it’s his turn to be flustered, sure he had fun teasing you but now thinking about it, it wasn’t exactly appropriate to take a dick pic in front of his best friend even if she wasn’t aware of his actions. Brushing it off, Chan shrugged with a smug face.

“God you’re infuriating sometimes.” You shake your head. “Oh c’mon, you can say it’s hot, your’s was. It’s the reason I’ve got a bone-“

“Chan!” You squeak, your hands covering your face. Chan was too blunt for you sometimes. “You still need help with this?” Chan says, gently guiding your hands down from your face to show you the picture that you had sent him earlier. You pout, thoughts in your head weren’t lining up to how your body was reacting, “Help?” You shake your head in confusion trying to understand what his words meant. Chan hesitantly trailed his hands to your inner thighs, instinctively you spread them apart which he takes as a go-ahead.

“Wait, wait, wait!” You stutter, realizing where this could be going, “We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t wanna.” Chan said, retrieving his hands from your legs. The warmth of his hands still burning your skin despite them not being there anymore. “No, I wanna-” Your mouth moved quicker than you could process, you slapped a hand over it. Chan raised a brow at you in his regular teasing manner, you simply shook your head at him, “Chan…you’re my best friend, I don’t wanna change that.” That was a lie, you did want to change that, you really want to change that, but losing Chan was something that always prevented you from ever telling him how you felt.

“Who says it has to change?” The curly haired boy leans over your body, dipping his bed at the weight. Your hands come up to his shoulders, not knowing whether to push him away or bring him closer. “Chris.” You sigh, eyes closing in thought. “Keep your eyes close, if you want me to stop just tell me…okay?” His words fanned across your cheeks as he spoke softly into your ear. You squirmed at his words but nonetheless kept your eyes shut.

A sudden touch to your thighs made you flinch, the hand hesitantly tapped your knee for your consent, nodding in response. Chan let out a shaky breath as his hands nudged your thighs apart, revealing the wet patch that stained the lining of your shorts. Did you get turned on by the tinder guy? No, it was by Chan and his insufferable teasing, he’s what got your arousal pooling. Chan hums, his breath breezing over your hot skin, sending shivers down your spine. “This okay? D’you trust me?” He asked as his fingered trailed along your throbbing cunt, you bit your lip in pleasure, nodding frantically, yearning for more friction.

Chan begins rubbing his thumb in circles on your clothed clit while his other fingers slip between your slick folds that stick to your panty. Moving your loose shorts to the side, you feel him dip his head down, licking a stripe up your cunt. “Channie.” You whine, hands flying to his curls, entangling them with your fingers. The sudden rush of pleasure has you opening your eyes, the sight of your best friend’s face between your legs, lickking at your most intimate area sends another wave of arousal straight to your core. Your thighs instinctively tense around his face, Chan gaze lifts to you at the action, locking your eyes and you're done. Chan’s eyes stared into you longingly, the smirk that made his way to his face when he sneakily maneuvered your underwear to the side had you writhing under his hold.

Chan continued his assault on your cunt with his mouth, sucking at your clit, swirling iit around your fold. His fingers brought you even closer to the edge as they ever-so-often sunk inside, never past his fingertips as if he was teasing you. That familiar knot formed in your stomach as your thighs began to shake, the movement not going unnoticed by Chan. “S-Stop!” You say closing your legs in an attempt to get him off, he sticks to his previous words and obliges to your command. “You okay?” Chan looks at you, a pang of worry flashing in his eyes, his mouth and chin was wet with what you’d assume is your arousal and his saliva mixed, he subconsciously licks his lips as you stare at them.

You nod in response before climbing onto your knees pushing him back onto the bed, “What are you- Y/N?!” Now it was Chan’s turn to turn pink, his heart pounded in his chest as he watched you pull the waistband of his sweatpants down revealing his hardened cock. “This okay?” You ask innocently, contradicting your actions. “Fuck yeah, this’s okay.” He sighed.

You stared at his dick, the very same one he had sent a few minutes ago, you never thought you’d ever be in this position with Chan. The tip was leaking with precum and the veins on the side evident from the lack of friction, he wasn't too big like the ones you’ve seen in those exaggerated pornos but he’s definitely above average. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, pumping it a few times, precum coating it making it easier to slide up and down. “Jesus, fuck, you’re so pretty, such a good girl, baby.” Chan rambles as you lean down, placing a small kiss on the tip. Tongue trailing down along the veins before coming back to the tip and taking it into your mouth.

Rolling his head back in pleasure, Chan gently takes a fistful of your hair so that it doesn't get in your way. You hum in appreciation. Chan almost cums, the vibration of your hum going through his shaft towards that knot forming in his abdomen. Hollowing your cheeks, you attempt to take more of him but Chan stops you, pulling you off of him with a pop. “Why’d you- mmph.” The feeling of his soft, plump lips cuts you off. His lips were gentle yet rough against yours, lust and desire making the kiss messier. Without your lips coming apart, Chan guides you to the bed again, laying you down under him. Lips dancing with one another, he adjusts your shorts and underwear to the side again, prompting a gasp from you, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue alongside yours.

You moan into the kiss as he presses the tip of his cock to your entrance. Your eyes meet once more, he has that same worry in his eyes, asking if he can continue. “Fuck me Channie…please.” Before your words could fully come out he’s already snapped his hips into you, bottoming out and letting you adjust to his size. “You okay, sweetheart?” The pet name draws out an erotic moan from your lips, you nod frantically as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Chan places your knees atop his shoulders, leaning into you as his hips smack against the back of your thighs. The echo of wet noises bouncing off the dorm room’s wall, Chan has never been more grateful that his roommate, Minho, wasn't in town. “S’close, Channie.” You moan into his neck, your nails clawing at his clothed back. It barely occurred to you that you were both technically fully clothed. “God I like you so much, you know that baby?” Chan mumbled as he drilled into your cunt. “Channie, I like you too- oh my fucking God.” You curse as he reaches your g-spot, hitting it dead on. “Actually?”

“Mhm, shit, liked you for a long time.” You say between moans and whimpers, your climax nearing as your legs begin to shake. “Fuck, gonna make you cum. S’fucking pretty.” Chan slurred as his hand made his way to your clit, rubbing circles onto it. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, you don’t think you’ve ever orgasmed like that before.

“Almost there, where d’you want it?” Chan pants over your whines of overstimulation, “Inside, I’m on the- holy fuck- on the pill!” The sensitivity of your cunt begins to be uncomfortable. Your words send Chan over the edge, spilling his hot cum inside of you.

Chan slowly pulls out before plopping onto the mattress next to you. “You really mean it?” He pants, chest heaving. You look at him confused, your mind too hazy for anything at this point. “You like me?”

“Heh, yeah…I do.” Chan leans over and gives you a sweet kiss on the lips. Rolling out of the bed, Chan comes back to you with a towel and some water. “Thanks.” You smile, taking the bottle of water. “Lemme get you some clothes from the closet.” As he makes his way to the closet an idea pops into his head. Chan snatches his phone before walking into his shared walk-in closet.

The ding of your phone grasps your attention, you reach for it and read the most recent message. It’s from Chan.

Send nudes ;)

[laiiaaa]

Your writing is stunning! Can I request injured!reader and Carmy rushing to be by her side? god the idea of that man dropping everything to be with you....

this has been in my drafts for probably a year now. i forget why i was hesitant to post it. so here’s something for you all :)

“Hey, Cousin—”

“I’m in the middle ��f something, not now, Richie—”

“Hey.” He raises his brows, gives that serious look that has Carmen’s head peeking over his shoulder because it’s so sharp he can feel it. “It’s your girl. You wanna take this.”

He gets nervous, then, heart beginning to race. Where’s his fuckin’ phone?

“Give it here,” he says, arm extended. Richie hands it over and slips out the door, shutting it to leave Carmen by himself in the office; it only makes hurt stomach lurch harder.

He lifts the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“. . . Carm?” Your voice is broken and wobbly, wrought with tears.

“Baby?” He doesn’t even think before he’s jumping out of his chair, tucking the phone between his jaw and shoulder while he scrambles to find his keys. “Baby, you there? Where are you?”

“I-I’m at the hospital, I tried calling you—”

“The hospital—?” His mind goes back to New York, back to that morning. “What—” He takes a deep breath. His jacket. Where the fuck is it? “Okay, you’re okay, I’m comin’ now, alright?” He storms out of the office toward the lockers, finds everything right where he put it, including his phone. Dead. Fuck. “I gotta hang up, okay? I’m sorry, I know, I can’t take the phone with me. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“O-Okay.” A shuddered breath rings through the line, and it kills him. “I’m okay, Carmy—”

“I know,” he says, shimmying into his jacket and feeling for his keys. “I know, baby, but I’m comin’ anyway, you hear me? Gonna be there in ten.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. I love you.”

He doesn’t put the phone back properly, just slides it across the counter and hopes it doesn’t break again, shouting out orders over his shoulder on his way out the door.

The ride there is the longest ten minutes of his life. He doesn’t know what to expect. He doesn’t know anything at all, really. Are you hurt? How bad is it? What happened? Is it a burn, a broken bone, just a flu that got out of hand? Will you need surgery? Did you get in an accident? Did someone try to hurt you? He doesn’t want you to be alone right now. He needs to be there with you. You were fine this morning. You were fine this morning, all beautiful and groggy when he kissed you awake, still cozied up in bed when he left early as the sky turned blue after sunrise. You were fine. You were fine, and then he left, and suddenly you weren’t.

The fluorescent lights make him nauseous. They’re too bright, and a disgusting color, and too different from all the gentle lighting you insisted upon at home. Made the place homey, you said, and he agreed. The nurses at the station must think he’s out of his mind, all wide-eyed and asking for you.

“What’s your name?” the one asks him.

“Carmen, I’m her fiancé, I was—I was just on the phone with her—”

“Okay,” she nods, softening. “She’s doin’ alright now, she was askin’ for you, though. Still gotta get her wrapped up, but you’ll be outta here soon.”

He’s too busy wondering What the fuck does that mean? to properly answer.

When he’s finally brought to your room, his nerves subside—only a little. There’s no blood, no bland hospital gown to say you’re headed off to the operating room. Just a pillow over your tummy, with your arm—your swollen, bruised arm—resting on top of it.

“Hey, hon,” he says, coming to your bedside and smoothing a hand over your forehead to press his lips to your temple. “You alright? What happened?”

“They—” you sniffle when you look up at him, lip quivering— “They had to take my ring off, Carmy—” he nods along to your rambling with a concerned brow— “I-I told them not to, but they said my hand was too swollen—that-that it was gonna mess up my finger—. . .”

“What’s that, baby?” He smiles into your hair and exhales through his nose. So typical of you to get upset about something cute like that, he knows you’ll be okay. “Your arm’s all black ‘n blue, and you’re worried about your ring—?”

“But it’s special—”

“Shhhhh . . . I know, I know . . . ‘m just askin’ you to ease up.” Another kiss lands on your forehead before he asks, “Where’s it at, baby? I’ll fix it for you.”

You pout and look somewhere behind him. “On the table, but you’re not gonna be able to—”

“Just take a breath ‘n relax f’me, yeah? I got it.”

He stands upright again, turning to check that the ring is there—that beautiful, beautiful big diamond for his precious girl, before reaching toward the nape of his neck to unclasp his chain. Carefully, he threads it through the ring, silently urges you to sit up so he can hook it around your neck, icy-cool on your smooth skin, admiring the way it sparkles like your eyes.

You’re still pouting when he’s done, and he kisses your soft lips anyway while he wipes away stray tears. “Better?”

“. . . yeah,” you admit through a murmur.

“Good,” he huffs, pulling the visitor’s chair right next to your bed. With your good arm, you reach for him, just any part of him, and he holds your hand as he kisses your dry knuckles. “You gonna tell me what happened now? What’s got you all banged up?”

And you groan and roll your eyes, insisting that it’s too embarrassing to tell, and he lets you drag it out just because he thinks it’s cute when you’re stubborn. The doctor comes in with the x-rays to confirm that, yes, indeed, you’ve got yourself a broken arm, and after you’re splinted and discharged and given a sling and the next day’s protocol, Carmen holds your good hand on the way out the door.

“Oh,” you start, pausing before he opens the car door for you, “I forgot to tell you.”

“Hm?”

“I drove here.”

“You what?”

“I told you, I was embarrassed, Carm—”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby,” he grunts, laughing and shaking his head with fingers running through his hair as he helps you into the passenger’s seat. “You’re killin’ me today, y’know that?”

And it’s not the last time. When he unlocks the front door and sees the laundry spilled all the way down the stairs, with a basket flipped upside down at the bottom, he can put the pieces together. He kisses you softly, doesn’t say a word about it, takes you to the bedroom, and tucks you into bed to let you rest now that your adrenaline is wearing off and the pain meds are making you sleepy.

He fixes up the mess without a second thought, and once he’s done he slips right under the covers next to you, thanking whatever God there is that you’re okay, and that he’s got you back in his arms.

(And tomorrow, when he takes you into the doctor’s office for a proper cast, he has Natalie and Pete pick up your car. He still hounds on you about it weeks later, how you drove yourself to the hospital with a broken arm. You insist it makes for a good story, and to that he can’t deny.)

[evilminji]

You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?

That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.

But!!!

WHAT IF?

They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?

Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.

Riot in the streets.

Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-

Ah.

So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.

One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.

It Fiiiiine, Sam.

He's just here to Talk.

He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.

ON LIVE TELEVISION.

He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~

"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!

And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"

*drops mic*

Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.

Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.

The press secretary faints.

PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!

Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!

And Danny?

Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~

If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.

Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.

(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[skteezcursed]

❝greedy little darlin❞ — p.sh.

PAIRING. frat!park seonghwa x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. dom!seonghwa. switch!sub!reader. university au. frat members ateez. sex talk (among adults). drinking (not too much, but just enough). pet names (mostly darling, reader is called slut once, good girl and handsome, prob more but i cant remember now). blowjob. hair pulling. cunnilingus. tongue fucking. over stimulation. sex with a condom (please remember to do that irl). light chocking. three? slaps on the ass. not proof read. i guess that's all, lmk if i forgot something.

SYNOPSIS. everyone knew you and Seonghwa were into each other, your friends even places a bet on when that would happen, although it never did. until he gets tired of your antics and decides to put you in your place.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. ~5,6k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateez frat boys (that i will still make so give me a moment) and of the atz house event you can't out rage us. shout out to @bro-atz for helping coming up with the idea for this, and to @seulrinnie-rinrin for betaing part of this. hopefully this is me leaving my slump so yeah, bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

Nothing was ever simple with Seonghwa. 

Ever since the beginning, it was as if something was pulling you two closer and closer, the tension growing at each encounter. At first, everyone thought it was because you two didn’t know each other, the thing is that, after you met, the tension didn’t falter, it actually increased exponentially, to the point where your friends were making bets as to when and who would break first. 

Park Seonghwa is the type of guy that makes you question everything. Because how can a man be so drop dead gorgeous with minimum to no effort? How can he look the squishiest human being with those adorable boba eyes, but also have the devilish look on his face when his eyes became siren and the smirk in present, making you question if you should really keep that line between friends high, blocking your passage, blocking you to reach his collar and kiss him like you need oxygen, to feel his marvelous tongue in between your folds, his hair in between your fingers as he -

“Earth to (y/n), you there?”

“Yeah, yeah sorry,” you looked around your friends with an apologetic look before focusing on the food in front of you, sighing. “What are we talking about again?”

“Damn, you truly dozed off,” the chuckle Mingi gave, was followed by some of the others as San just turned to you with that sweet smile of his, the dimples present, a reminder he too, was holding back a laugh. 

“Since midterms are over, we were planning on having a little get together at the frat, no big party, just a few drink with friends, it’s not like any of us have time to organize it anyways,” you nodded taking another bite of your food, the movement being noticed by San who exchanged glances with the others. “So, can we count you on?”

“Don’t you consider me a friend, Sannie?” Everyone laughed as you leaned to kiss San’s cheek, apologizing. “I’ll be there, just let me know when.”

  “We are all gonna be there, by the way,” the knowing smile that Wooyoung sent your way, made you want to push his face against his plate, “in case you want to dress up.”

  “Why would I dress up to a get together with you guys?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because Hwa is gonna be there.”

“And you have a huge crush on him,” Jongho continued Yunho’s line and you could see Yeosang opening his mouth.

“And let's not forget the sexual tension there is!”

“You two should honestly just fuck already and end everyone’s suffering at this point.”

“What the fuck you guys talking about, and another word from you,” you pointed at Wooyoung who had made the last remark, “and I’ll shove your face against the plate!”

“Oh, kinky, should we let Hwa know?”

Yunho commented and all the boys bursted into laughter as all you wanted was to be buried six feet under. 

  Of course you had a crush on Seonghwa. Of course whenever you two were together there was this small flirtatious situation, and the sexual tension was definitely high whenever you two were close in a room, but that didn’t mean anything. 

“I’m sure he’ll cave in soon and fuck you,” San’s words brought you back, making you eye him slightly shocked. “What? He thinks you are hot, he even said it to us the first time you two met, but I also don’t know why he hasn't done shit.”

“Because he likes to play with his food before eating it.”

Wooyoung jumped from the table the same second he finished his sentence already running from you trying to slap him, making everyone at the table and around you seven to laugh at the situation.

“I’ll fucking end you, Jung Wooyoung!”

  You dolled up, he knew you would.

  You always did whenever you two were to meet, only to be even more irresistible in his eyes. The fact that his brother’s from the fraternity knew how badly he wanted you, didn’t help as they would always create situations for the two of you to get close. Not that neither bothered to argue. Seonghwa had tried to reason with the younger ones, but as soon as he realized you didn’t really care, even indulged whenever it happened, made him decide to test how far you were willing to go.

  As if you knew about it, you played along. 

You accepted his drinks, laughed at his jokes, shiver under his touch, lean towards him when he was close. Yet, you would also pull your own strings. You knew he wouldn’t be jealous, you noticed on the first few tries on how he simply would smile or laugh at your useless attempts at making him feel anything when you were with someone else, which was not the case when he was the one trying to make you jealous, even if unintentionally. 

So you changed your methods. From revealing clothes and trying to make him jealous, you simply decided to make yourself present, being there if needed, and flee if that was not the case, you stopped trying to get his attention, deciding to enjoy your time and maybe, just maybe, get with someone to alleviate the ache between your thighs whenever Seonghwa got too handsy with you before leaving you high and dry.

  ATZ frat was known, as any other house on the Greek Road, to be just to mess around, never to create a relationship. Although you knew Wooyoung since you were kids, you knew that to be true whenever you and the other boys would get together, even San who appeared to be the one who leans mostly towards dating, would fuck around from time to time. The odds weren’t in your favor, so you decided to brush it off, to have fun with your friends, to go to their frat from time to time, and that was when your ‘relationship’ with Seonghwa started to change. 

Both of you knew that this was never going forward. The moment you realized that, it was like something shifted in him, he started to go towards you whenever you met, regardless if it was at the frat or not. You knew that didn’t mean he was going to accept your advances, especially after you found out Hongjoong had established a rule that family and close friends from the members were off limits after a complicated situation happened a few weeks back and that you were highly aware of.

  “So, you guys actually decided to throw a low profile party, hm? That’s a first,” you comment as Seonghwa opened the door and took a step back to let you in the frat before taking your jacket off, which he quickly took it in his hands as he closed the door. “Is anyone else coming?”

  You asked, looking around, trying to see anyone, but the house looked rather empty. “I don’t know, but the main entertainment has finally arrived,” he purred against your ear, making you shiver as you smirked, keeping your composure. “Care for something to drink?”

  “Sure, I’ll have whatever you are having,” you answer quickly, trying to brush off the shiver as you follow him towards the kitchen. “Heard it was a get together with friends… Was kind of expecting more people, if I’m honest.”

  “Anyone in particular?” Seonghwa asked as he handed you a bottle of soju, clacking the bottles before bringing it to his lips, predatory eyes scanning your face. “Or are you asking to be sure you will be the only one here?”

  As he took a step closer to you, you changed the weight of your foot before bringing the soju bottle to your own lips. “No one in particular, and we both know I don't mind sharing attention.”

  Your eyes wandered across his face, lingering on his smirk before your fingers played with the necklace that hung low on his sheer shirt, the small opening where the necklace hang allowing your fingers to brush along the skin, as you noticed the smirk on Seonghwa’s lips grow slightly, his tongue poking out before you move away from him with a smirk.

  “C’mon man, a hundred!”

  “Fuck off Wooyoung, I’m not joining,” Mingi said pushing Wooyoung slightly chuckling as both their eyes landed on you, “it will be just another night and you know it, you will lose money.”

  “So why you scared of betting?” 

  Wooyoung smirked at Mingi with raised eyebrows. “What you two up to, this time?”

  “Betting if you and Hwa finally give in and fuck,” Wooyoung says bluntly making you scoff as you took another sip of your drink as you watch Seonghwa from afar talking to a few other people. “I’m betting it will, but the others are sure it’s just another night where you two keep with your cat and mouse game.”

  “He knows I’m down, it’s in his lane,” you chuckle at Wooyoung’s words as you finish your drink. “I’m getting another bottle, do you guys want it?”

  Both denied as Wooyoung continued to patronize Mingi, making you shake your head as you moved past Seonghwa, a little too close for comfort as your hand brush on his ass and you notice his eyes fall on you as you kept going to the kitchen, giving him a smirk as you open the fridge to get another bottle of soju.

  “That’s your fourth bottle,” you hear Seonghwa’s voice, seeing him eye you from the counter, the bottle on his hands half empty, “shouldn’t you slow down?”

  “Oh, is the mighty Park Seonghwa worried about me?” You smirk as you choose your bottle, opening as you eyed him. “That’s adorable, and I would actually believe it if it was a different scenario…”

  “Why do you think I’m not?” 

  His eyes followed your form as you walked towards him, his hand instinctively finding your hip pressing it lightly, as he noticed your breath hitch as the bottle met your lips. 

  “Because we are at a party, a chill one, where nothing major is gonna happen…” Your eyes followed down to his sheer shirt, nails tracing down, touching his skin and abs over the shirt as you reached his pants, fingers vagally there before it went to the hook of the pants. “And I’m getting bored.”

  His hand on your hips pressed, making you bite your lip as he took a step closer, his lips hovering over yours as his eyes studied every reaction. “So you intend to get drunk?”

  “It’s not a solution, but it’s a possibility,” you say as your body gets closer to him, the freaking magnetic relationship you had whenever you two were together. “You have pretty friends…”

  Your eyes avert for the people behind Seonghwa, who follows your eyes as it lands on some of his colleagues and friends before reaching yours with a small knowing smirk. 

  “I don’t think they are available…”

  “Funny, because some of them already engaged in a few conversations with me,” you chuckle watching him, as one of your fingers extended and touched near his crotch area lightly, “and i can’t say I’m not interested in what they have to say…”

  “Then have your fun with them, I’ll be waiting to hear about it later,” he hinted with raised eyebrows to you as his bottle reached his lips, his eyes never leaving you. 

  “Oh, so they are the kiss and tell type…” You murmur looking at his friends once more. “Might as well prepare for a performance then.”

  “You wouldn’t need to if they knew what they were doing,” his eyes burned on you, as a smirk played on his lips, his hand pulling you as it reached your lower back, pressing you against his, against the bulge in his pants. His lips brushed against your ear, “but hey, if you are gonna fake better put on a memorable show, which I’m sure you are more than capable of doing.”

  “I always do,” your voice sounded steady but your body was betraying you, as usual. “Wouldn’t be bad to not have to fake it everytime.”

  Your hands moved between your bodies as you squeezed his bulge lightly, hearing him wince. “Feeling brave today, are we?”

  “No, just needing to relieve some stress, after all, finals are finally over.”

  You brushed your lips against Seonghwa’s before squeezing his bulge once more before pushing him away with the hand that held the soju bottle as you moved past him, smirking. 

  “So this is how we are playing tonight?” Seonghwa said under his breath. “Good luck with your boy toy search.”

  He said a little louder, which you only raised your hand dismissing his comment, as his eyes lingered on your figure. The pants becoming a bother. Finals week had taken its toll on him, and just like you, he also needed a release. His eyes trailed on you as he watched you move, talk, touch and laugh at everyone's commentaries, a knowing glint in his eyes, the smirk always present as he called in one of his friends.

  As it usually happened, neither you nor Seonghwa engaged once more throughout the night as you went on and on talking to every male, choosing if you’d bring any of them back home with you. The soju bottle now empty as your eyes wander on the last choices.

  “Found them already?”

  The amusement in Seonghwa voice already told the smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe…”

  “I’ll take that as no then,” you felt him get closer to you, his front pressing on your side. “I may have someone for you, if you want.”

  “Didn’t know you were into voyeurism,” your eyes quickly shot him a confused but amused look. 

  “And you seemed too bothered right now, so what is your answer?” 

  His hot breath against your neck and ear as you felt his lips touch your skin as his eyes studied you, as yours followed around the room trying to catch a glimpse of his friends, missing one as you turned to him with a smirk. Lips almost touching as you did, feeling his hand on your lower back. 

  “I guess you got my taste correctly.”

  “Darling, when I say I know you, I mean it.”

Lips quickly found your cheekbone as his hand pulled you closer to his body. You held any sound not giving him the satisfaction.

  “Cocky as always, aren’t you?” You chuckle but not move away from him, your nails scratching his abs through the shirt and subtly, as you feel them contract. “Why don’t you go get him then? I’m getting rather tired.”

  “He went upstairs though, should we go fetch him?” His eyes were siren-like, a small smirk as he took your wrist, guiding you up the stairs. The look from some of the boys from the frat only made you laugh as you shook your head. “What’s funny?”

  Seonghwa asks curiously as you reach the second floor. “Some of the boys looked at you guiding me.”

  “I guess that’s fair,” he chuckled as well, his demeanor changing a little as he kept his hand on your wrist guiding you through the rooms, reaching the one you knew to be his. “Someone spilled a drink on his shirt, he asked to borrow one of mine.”

  Your eyebrows raised, nodding still processing what was happening, as Seonghwa was a master of teasing you and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d guide you to the rooms — or his in specific — only to get you even more frustrated. Your eyes studied his features as his hand opened his room motioning for you to enter. 

   “I’m not fucking your friend in your room, Seonghwa.”

  “Who says anything on those lines, darling?” A chuckle left his lips. “Now, will you be a good girl and enter the room, or don’t you trust me to have your best interest in heart?”

  You bit your lip, noticing his gaze fall on them for a second before you motion to enter his room, eyes looking for the friend who was indeed with a shirt from Seonghwa and a stained one in hand. 

  “Oh, hello,” the boys said moving away from his phone, putting his shirt in a corner before his eyes fell on you and then Seonghwa. “Wingman, hm?”

  You shook your head at his words, noticing Seonghwa nod as you focused on the boy that took a few steps towards you. 

  “A good wingman, nonetheless,” your voice was laced with amusement as his friend reached closer with a smirk, his hand going to cup your face. “Now, shall we leave?”

  “Just give us a second, will you, darling?” Seonghwa said against your neck as you noticed both leave you, allowing you to take a breather. Of course Seonghwa would pull something like that. Few seconds later you hear footsteps and the movement of the door. “Thank you for being such a good girl, darling.”

  At that, the door closed the same second Seonghwa’s hands found yours hips pulling you against his front making you gasp, before chuckling lightly.

  “Smart, I gotta give you that.”

  “Couldn’t have made it easy for you to figure it out, could I?” 

  His lips quickly found your neck as you moved your head to the side giving him access as you arched your back, pressing your ass against his bulge. One hand found his on your hip as the other went to the back of his neck tangling on his long locks.

  “Of course, what would be the fun in that?” You chuckle before gasping as you felt him suck on the skin of your neck, as you put pressure on his nape, feeling his right hand lower towards your exposed thigh, the tips quickly wander to your inner thighs going up teasing your clothed core. “If you are just teasing this time, I swear —”

  “I’m done with your antics, darling, it’s time to put you in your place.” The whimper that left your mouth made him chuckle against your neck as he put pressure on your clothed clit making you jolt. “C’mon darling, I think we postponed this for far too long,” his hands quickly turned you to face him, one hand on your chin before going to your hair. “Why don’t we start with you on your knees?”

  You oblige letting him push you down, until your knees felt the floor, his crotch eye leveled, your mouth watering as his other hand undid his pants, the one on your head entangling with your hair as his pants fell, leaving him only in his underwear, the outline of his cock on display as you swallow hard. A light caress on your scalp was the only ‘okay’ you got before your hands quickly went to his waistband, lowering the underwear slowly. 

  His cockhead glowing with precum as you licked your lips feeling him pull your head near his pelvis, your hands pulling the rest of his underwear down as his cockhead quickly met the touch of your lips. The groan that left his lips making you smile as the pool in between your legs grew. As one hand finished pulling down his underwear, the other quickly met the base of his cock. 

  “Such a handsome face with such a pretty cock,” you said with a smile before opening your mouth, taping his tip on your tongue, feeling his fingers tighter on your head. 

  “Such a pretty filthy mouth, I wonder how it would look filled with my cum.”

  Without a warning, he pushed your head down his length, moaning as your lips and tongue made contact with his cock, your hand working on the base of the cock as the other rested on his thigh. In swift movements you started to little by little take him in your mouth, gagging lightly from time to time, before he let you breath, the spit line connecting your swollen lips to his cock only making him twitch before fucking your mouth once more. 

  “Fuck, darling, do you like when I fuck your mouth like that, hm?” One of his hands caressed your hollowed cheeks as he slowed his movements a bit, to be able to look at you. “Such a pretty little thing for me, taking me in your mouth so well like that, I wonder how your cunt feels if this is how well your mouth treats me.”

  You mumble with your mouth around his cock, making the vibration run through his body as one of your hands went up his abs under the shirt, which he quickly took it off, throwing somewhere along the pants and underwear as you started to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks, one hand on the base of his cock, sometimes joining in the movement your head was making. The sounds and cusses that went out of Seonghwa’s mouth only made you wetter by the second, if it wasn’t for your damped panties, you sure would have made a messy spot of arousal on his floor.

  At this point you tried your best to keep yourself composed, mouth open and holding yourself steady as he fucked your mouth, holding your head in place before his movements become more erratic. You could feel him twitch on your mouth the last few times, the cockhead reaching the back of your throat, your eyes watering as your nails sank onto the skin of his thigh before his release filled your mouth and throat.

  Before he could pull it out you held his base, slurping as you got the last drop of his cum in your mouth, swallowing and opening your mouth, putting his tip again in your tongue. The smirk along with the groan that left him was enough to make you want to do it all over again, to have him fuck your mouth once more, but his hand was quickly on your chin pulling you up, before connecting your mouths, making both moan against your lips. 

  Your hands quickly found his half-hard member, swift movements as your tongues explored each other’s mouths. His hand kept firm on the back of your head, holding you close to his as he ravish on your mouth, while the other went to your thigh, raising your dress to the waistline before slapping it harshly, making you jolt and moan against his mouth. A smirk could be felt as he slapped your ass one more time, pulling your hair, parting your lips, before smacking it once more, a glint in his eyes as he watched your whole body tremble.

  He quickly moves you to the bed, pushing you down as his lips meet yours once more, your hands moving to his hair as one of his keeps holding your neck, the other quickly parting your legs as he pressed his knee to your clothed core, the hand holding your hips in place as you instinctively you started moving slowly as he restrain your movements from the grip on your hip making you whimper against his mouth.

  “Please, please Hwa, I need — argh!” You complain as you feel the pressure of his knee against your clit, his mouth leaving wet trails of kisses along your neck and collarbone. “Please fuck me, please Hwa, I need you to —”

  “I said I’d put you in your place, not take orders from you, I’m sure you know the difference, right?” He hovered over you as he finished saying that, his hand previously on your hips going up under your dress to pinch your nipple making you whine and throw your head back onto the mattress. “I need an answer, darling,” he said once more, his lips hovering against yours as he forced you to look at him, his other hands massaging your breast as he pressured your clit once more, making you move your hips searching for friction, only making him chuckle. “Be a good girl and answer my question and you’ll get to cum, although I do like to play with my food before eating it, makes it even more delicious to watch you come undone on my tongue.”

  “Fucking hell,” you breath as you saw the smirk and watched his eyes fall to your parted lips, as the friction with his knee helped a little, but only made your insides burn with the need to have him inside you. “Yes, I-I know the difference, now ple-please touch me, please, Hwa.”

  “Looks like you know how to beg, that’s cute,” he said before both his hands found your dress, pulling it over your head, exposing the majority of your body, the only covered part being the place you wanted him the most. “Time to grant your wish, darling.”

  His lips quickly started a trail of wet open kisses down your neck, one of his hands holding your waist, the other playing with your nipple, pitching it as the other was finally met with Seonghwa’s mouth as he sucked in and played with the nipple, both with his tongue when he wouldn’t let marks over your chest. The lust in his eyes only got darker as he saw the marks embellishing your skin. 

  “Hwa, please… It hurts,” you whimper as you move your hips quickly against his leg, making him chuckle as he starts to kiss down your stomach, kneeling before you, siren eyes locked on you. “I’ve been good, now please fuck me.”

  Although you did plead, your voice carried a hint of demand that made Seonghwa arched his brows and smirked as his hands spread your legs wider. You lifted your upper body, resting it on your elbows as you wanted to see the sight of Seonghwa’s head between your legs, as you have imagined and dreamed about it so many times before, only to groan when he kissed your inner thigh, neglecting the heat coming from your clothed folds. 

  “Patience comes for those who wait, darling, and I rush for no one,” his voice was laced with lust and a hint of a challenge, making you bite your lip, knowing if you pushed his rules, he might leave you high and dry. His smirk grew as he realized you caught up with his hint. “I knew you were a good girl, a brat even, but good to know you can be easily tamed,” his lips touched your damped panties right above your clit making you jolt and curse under your breath. “Now, lay down on the bed and let me have my fun with you, okay, darling?”

  Before you could do as he said, his lips found your clothes core making you throw your head back with a moan, feeling his hands moving and pulling your panties to the side, his lips finding your sensitive clit making you jolt as he chuckled at your reaction, tip of his tongue touching your clit as he ravish on the sight of you squirming on his bed. Your hands quickly found his hair pulling it to you, which he obliged for the time being.

   As his lips enveloped and sucked your clit, his fingers that were parting your legs found your core, coming up and down your entrance, making you jolt and clench around nothing as he would never put them in too much.

  “Fuck Hwa, please please please please,” you squirmed already feeling tears fill your eyes as you looked down at him. “Fucking hell,” you said once more as your eyes met, the siren lustful eyes that you only dreamed of having between your legs before feeling his tongue play with your clit as two fingers enter you, making you throw your head back and arch your back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck!”

  You screamed as you felt the build up in your stomach, only for him to stop completely before you feel his hands tanking off you panties before hovering over you, kissing your lips once more as his fingers played with your slit before entering you and curling inside, his thumb pressing on your clit as you moaned against Seonghwa’s lips, cussing and begging at the same time, as all you wish was to cum.

  “My fingers or mouth, darling?”

  “Both.”

  “Greedy little darling, unfortunately you can only pick one,” you open your mouth to complain but only a moan escapes as he adds another finger making you squirm under him. “Choose now, or you won't have any.”

  “Mouth.”

  You say breathlessly as he lowers himself so his lips hover over yours. “Good girl.”

  His lips are soon connected to your clit once more as his fingers leave you making you whine at the loss and clench around nothing as he quickly starts to ravish on your cunt. His tongue enters you in places you never thought it would be possible as his nose flickers on your sensitive clit making you tug on his hair as moans, curses and Soenghwa’s name leave your mouth at each strip he licks and each time his tongue enters your core. 

  “Fuck Hwa, so good, fucking god—”

  “Cum for me darling, I want you to cum on my tongue, only then I’ll fill you up, so be a good girl and listen to what I say.”

  You could barely process what he said as the build up in your stomach became too much, as you tried to push Seonghwa away as the stimulation started to become too great but he didn’t pull away, smirking at how much you squirmed because of his mouth. As heat flushed through your body making you numb, Seonghwa took his type to lick you clean watching you jolt from how sensitive you were before hovering above you once more.

  “You ready for my cock, darling?” You just nodded as you watched him smirk, going for a condom that was in his drawer, quickly putting it on before positioning himself at your entrance. “I need to hear it.”

  “I want you to fuck me senseless, Park Seonghwa.”

  “My pleasure, my darling.”

  At that he thrusts fully into you, holding your hips in place, keeping steady as he watched you, wondering if it was okay for him to move. Once you started to breathe again and your hand met his forearm as the other went for your breast, he smiled and started to move. Steady at first, watching how your facial expressions would change, playing with your body as he wanted to see what would make you tic, what would bring the sweetest sound from your mouth, but most importantly, what would make you come back to his bed. 

  “Fuck Hwa, yes, please, just like — argh fuck, YES!” 

  You couldn’t care less if someone was listening, if you had to take the walk of shame tomorrow, if this was only a one night stand, how you’d face Seonghwa once more if that was the case, none of it matter, all it mattered was how well he was rearranging your organs as his fingers sank into the flesh of your hip and he’d pull you towards him. 

  “Is my greedy little darling enjoying my cock?”

  “Yes, yes, yes fucking yes.”

   Seonghwa smiled at your words as one of his hands left your hip to find your clit, making you scream the moment he started to put pressure there, feeling you clench around him, his eyes closing as he could only think about making you cum on his cock, think about hearing you moan like that once more for him. As he felt his own orgasm coming closer, his other hand went for your neck, squeezing it just enough to make you roll your eyes back as his thumb still moved slowly on your clit as his thrusts became erratic.

  “Cum for me darling, cum on my cock like the good slut you are, yes?”

  And that was enough to push you over the edge as you screamed, arching your back as you creamed around his cock, feeling his thrusts start to slow down before his last thrust kept steady inside you as you knew he had emptied himself. His hand on your clit went to the mattress as the one on your neck found your cheeks caressing it lightly before he locked your lips together. 

  “So that just happened.”

  He chuckled at your words, making you laugh as well, before he looked at you with the boba eyes you knew so well on certain occasions. 

  “I’m gonna pull out, okay?” You nodded whining at the loss of his cock as you watched him take the condom out and toss it on the trash as he got a cloth to clean you up, surprising you a little, bringing a chuckle to leave his mouth. “Are you okay?” He asked as he carefully cleaned you up, eyeing you with concerned eyes when you hissed a little and he quickly apologized.

  “It’s okay, Hwa, don’t worry about it,” you comment, trying to get up already looking for your clothes, only to have Seonghwa hold you by the arm as your legs failed you. “I’m fine, I’ll be okay in a bit, just —”

  “Lay down,” it wasn’t a request although it sounded like it coming from his mouth, by how careful he said it. “You are not leaving this room, we will sleep and then talk about it tomorrow, unless you are uncomfortable —”

  “It’s fine I— I thought you’d want me to leave since…”

  “I’m a little cold, yes, but not that cold. I could never make a girl leave my room right after something like this, especially if that girl is you.” Your breath hitched and Seonghwa smiled at you. “Now, let’s go lay down, do you want one of my shirts to sleep on, darling?”

  You nodded, smiling at him as you sat back on the bed, as Seonghwa smiled at you handing you a shirt and boxers, which you thanked as he pulled the covers after putting shorts himself and laying next to you in bed.

  “Thank you, Seonghwa.”

  “No need to thank me,” he kissed your temple pulling you closer to him on the bed, his hands playing with your hair as he noticed you drifting to dreamland, chuckling lightly. “Goodnight, my darling.”

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[avocado-writing]

somno/cnc. minors dni.

thinking about old man Logan who you can tell needs to blow off steam. he works himself to death half the time, either as income earner or caregiver, and you want to be the thing which gives him a bit of levity at the end of his day. in an ideal world you’d always be waiting when he gets home, ready and willing, there to hear about his troubles and offer him whatever physical comfort he might seek from your soft little body. but you’re only human, and tiredness likes to take over your aching bones at the end of a long shift; it’s not always possible.

so you’ve given him the go-head to take what he needs from you even as you sleep.

he probably doesn’t want to take you up on the offer at first, it seems like he’s taking advantage, but you keep reassuring him that it’s something you want. something which kind of turns you on - and he can see that it’s true from the way you squeeze your thighs together as you speak. he smiles around his cigar and tells you, “we’ll see, doll.”

thinking about the first time Logan comes home, pent up and nearly feral with his need for you, only to see the lights are out in the bedroom and you’re dead asleep. it’s too hot to use blankets in this weather, you hate the way the fabric sticks to your skin, and you like to sleep in one of his shirts. in only one of his shirts. Logan can see the curve of your ass peeking out below the hem, the soft shape of your pussy, practically begging him to come fuck her.

who is he to deny his sweetheart what she wants?

he strips off, leaving his clothes in a trail towards the bed, fully naked and half-hard as he gently turns you over to face him. you shift a little, malleable and liquid under his touch even now. he runs a finger between your legs, dipping into your folds, and your chest hitches a little - but still you sleep.

he doesn’t know how he got so lucky, getting something as sweet as you in his world. the one thing worth going on for. rough, callused hands open your thighs so he can see you properly. you’re wet. fuck. always so needy for him, no matter what. he’ll take care of you, give you what you need, even if you don’t know it. it’s no big effort to push inside you. you’re always so good at taking him despite his size; you give a fluttery little exhale in your sleep as you feel yourself made full to the brim, happy with his tight fit.

slowly he begins to fuck you. shallow little thrusts of his hips, ones which are just enough to give him pleasure, though he’d rather take you roughly and wildly. doesn’t wanna wake you, after all. his hand drops to your clit and he gently begins to use his thumb there. there’s no way you’re not gonna come tonight, even if you aren’t awake to breathe out a thank you, lo as you always do.

it doesn’t take long. he feels your cunt twitch around him and speeds up a little, just enough to hear the slap of skin on skin quietly echo the room. a smothered grunt as he holds himself back, quickening the pace of his thumb. your body tightens and then releases, flooding his cock with you as you come for him while you slumber.

he can’t be far behind from that. fuck, you always look so pretty when you come. his hips land in a slapdash rhythm and then he’s spilling inside you. he has to fall forward and brace himself against the mattress from the force of it. when he’s able to open his eyes in the afterglow you look… happy. stuffed full and sound asleep. Logan slowly withdraws his cock from you, happy you’re both satisfied, and drops a kiss onto your forehead before lying down next to you and gathering you into his arms.

he’d clean you up usually, but tonight? he leaves the mess there so you can find it in the morning. he can see your smile now.

[itneverendshere]

thinking of how rafe wouldn’t want you to work while pregnant

that man would be so stressed, since day one!! and bartender!reader would noooot give him a break, still covering bartending shifts even tho she was the manager bc she simply enjoyed doing it every once in a while. and he's like ?????? will you sit your ass down PLEASE. but you're not listening, if there's ONE thing the pregnancy hormones gave you was extra attitude. somethin' along these lines:

rafe could feel his jaw clenching as he watched you across the room, rolling your eyes for the third time in the past five minutes. you were doing it on purpose now, deliberately ignoring him while standing behind the bar, mixing drinks like you weren’t six months pregnant.

the bartender had called in sick, and you, the manager, jumped in and covered for him. rafe crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, and tried not to look too annoyed, but fuck if it wasn’t hard.

you still had that spark in you, that independence that drew him in from the start, but now? now it just made him worry.

worry like he never thought he could.

“you’re really gonna give me a heart attack, y’know that?” he called out, his voice carrying over the chatter around the country club.

most people were too busy with their drinks and golf gossip to notice you two bickering, but anyone paying attention could see that familiar dynamic. you doing whatever you damn well pleased, him trying to keep his cool, which he never really could when it came to you putting yourself at risk.

you glanced at him over your shoulder, hands moving like second nature as you garnished a drink. “’m fine, baby” you told him, voice just as breezy as ever, like the huge bump pressing against your shirt was nothing more than an accessory. “it’s just a couple hours.”

there was that old habit of yours—acting like everything was fine when you clearly weren’t. or maybe you were, but that wasn’t the point.

the point was, you shouldn’t have to be there.

“you say that, but i know you’re gonna be hurting later,” he muttered, pushing off the counter and walking around to your side of the bar.

his hand landed gently on your waist, thumb brushing the small of your back like he always did when he wanted to get you to stop for just a second.

“c’mon, baby. just take a break, you don’t need to be on your feet like this.”

it wasn’t that you didn’t want help—you’d worked through that over the past couple years—but that stubborn streak was still there.

“���m not some porcelain doll,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes again, “’m not gonna drop dead because i’m pregnant.”

he felt his stomach drop when those words left your mouth. "jesus christ, woman," he muttered, his eyes widening in exasperation. "don’t say that shit.”

“alright, my bad,” you gave in, “didn’t mean it like that.”

rafe sighed, his hand still resting on you. he hated when you talked like that, like you had to remind him how capable you were. of course he knew. 

"promise me you're taking a leave starting tomorrow," he practically begged you despite attempting to sound firm, but that undertone of worry had been his constant companion ever since you'd found out you were pregnant. 

"next week," you sang back, not even looking up from the drink you were finishing. 

you were still in work mode, determined to keep things running smoothly despite the fact you should’ve been at home, resting.

"tomorrow," he insisted, leaning in closer, his voice softening but no less serious.

you turned to face him, eyes narrowing. "next week, or you’re not getting sex for the next three months. now get outta my bar.”

rafe blinked, his jaw going slack as he stared at you, completely blindsided. 

“what—"

“go on,” you gestured toward the other side of the counter with a flick of your hand, “out.”

his mouth opened and closed a couple of times, like a fish. he was processing, but slowly.

"but… baby," he whined, his voice dipping into a tone that could only be described as kicked puppy. “just—wanna make sure you’re okay. that you’re safe, and you’re not overdoing it. you can’t kick me out, i need to be around you.”

you gave him that look, the one that told him he was pushing his luck. "rafe, i swear to god—”

he let out a long, dramatic sigh, but started to back off, lifting his hands in surrender.

"alright, alright, ‘m going," he grunted, dragging his feet toward the exit like a kid being told to go to bed. but before he did go, he turned back one more time, his eyes pleading. "i’ll be outside if you need me."

"of course you will," you muttered, shaking your head with a half-smile. you knew he wasn’t going far, probably just far enough to hover and peek through the windows, pretending to give you space but unable to help himself.

"i love you, stop spiraling," you called out after him.

he paused, turning back to look at you, his expression softening.  

“love you too.”

[madaqueue]

PUSH AND PULL

something silent and intangible ties you to sukuna, and has for as long as you've known each other. but you can't help but wonder what would happen if you pull on that little red string of fate, bringing him closer than just friends.

pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: modern non-curse au, best friends to ???. suggestive/smut. language, pet names (pretty, baby, sweetheart), he calls you a slut but like as a joke, alcohol consumption, semi-public. 18+, MDNI (wc: 2.6k)

It was always just you and Sukuna, for as long as you could remember. Even as kids, the two of you found your home in the corner of the playground after he pushed someone off a swing you wanted to use; in highschool, you etched your names into the desks during some mundane class, landing both of you in detention. He wove his way into your life, and you into his, mending the frayed threads left behind by scissors and rough hands.

So of course neither of you ever dated - you didn’t need anybody else. Nobody would put up with (nor could handle) him and his moods. And you, well, nobody would dare get near you so long as you had him around.

To his credit, it took very little to scare any potential suitors off, oftentimes nothing more than a glare or a firm hand on their shoulder. And he seemed to understand that no one would ever quite compare to you, everyone else too boring, too bland, too pathetic to deserve his attention.

And so, you played along, this little game of pushing and testing and teasing and almost almost almost.

Yet, there was always something in the way, some invisible force keeping you from ever bridging the gap. “Just friends,” you both called it, a name for the insurmountable chasm between you. It was silent, unspoken, but always felt, a magnetic pull that kept you close but never allowed you to touch.

Tonight in particular, at this shitty house party of a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, that pull feels almost tangible, lingering in the hazy air.

Music blares, flashing LEDs illuminating the thin layer of sweat covering both of your bodies. Every thump of the bass electrifies the air, your heartbeat vibrating in tune. Tattooed hands hold your hips firmly against his body, your ass pressed to his pelvis.

You love this song. He loves you loving it.

That smug grin plays across his face, shadows cast by the flickering party lights above making it appear far more sinister to someone who doesn’t know Sukuna. But to you, he’s perfectly content.

When the chorus hits, you bend at the waist, dropping forward and grinding against him. Always such a fucking tease, he thinks as a quiet laugh escapes his lips. His fingertips tighten their hold but he shows no other sign of his sinful desires (he was proud of his restraint, even after all these years).

Bending your knees, the pathetically thin material of your dress rides up just enough that a prouder man would feel obligated to look away. Sukuna, of course, just chuckles as you look over your shoulder.

“You look like a slut.” Bright white teeth shine through his grin.

“At least I can dance,” you retort, hips circling against the front of his jeans. “You look stiffer than a dead guy’s dick.”

Throwing his head back, a laugh overtakes him, seemingly louder than the shitty pop song playing through the speakers. Pink hair catches under the red lights, absolutely electrifying. “Jesus, I forgot how filthy that fuckin’ mouth of yours can get.”

Fully turning around, you press your chest against his, your dress doing little to hide the way your nipples harden at the mild friction. The now-empty cup in your hand dangles at your side as you stand on your toes, lips brushing against his ear. “I’m gonna go get another drink to wash out this ‘filthy fuckin’ mouth,’” you shout over the music.

Instead of verbally responding, Sukuna steps back, slapping your ass as you make your way to the kitchen.

You know, of course, that he wouldn’t let anyone else talk to him the way you do, and you, of course, wouldn’t dare let anyone touch you the way he does (and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone else do it, either).

The kitchen is brighter than the surrounding chaos, your eyes blurry as they adjust. Finding your way to the stash of bottles, you pour yourself some combination of juice and liquor. The fake marble of the table is cold against your skin as you hop onto it, crossing your legs as the liquid hits your lips.

It’s certainly palatable, you shrug.

You bask in the muted silence for a moment before it’s broken by Sukuna’s loud footsteps marching towards you.

He always commanded attention so effortlessly, eyes turning to follow his path. At first you thought it was the visible tattoos lining his skin and notably unnatural hair, but over time you grew to wonder if there was something more innate, something living within his soul that evoked the unyielding focus from those around him.

Ruby eyes lock on yours (surely an effect of the colored LEDs still flashing nearby) as he glides in front of you. Your legs part, dangling over the edge of the countertop as he slots himself between them, arms encircling you.

Placing his palms onto the table behind your waist, the scent of whatever expensive cologne he probably stole this week hangs on his clothes as he leans closer.

“Thought I finally got rid of you when you didn’t come back.” His voice is gravelly, lips pulled into a leering smile.

“Maybe I just finally got sick of dancing with someone who only wants to paw at me,” you chuckle sarcastically. Lifting the cup to your mouth, you take another swig. “And you’re awfully close for someone who smells like shitty beer and sweat.”

“Oh really?”

Before you can respond, his lips are trailing up your neck, his nose pushing your hair to the side as he nuzzles into your skin.

His breath is hot, tickling your earlobe as he lowly whispers, “Well you smell lovely.”

On instinct your legs try to close around him, a desperate attempt to quell the ache growing between them. You hate his stupid fucking voice, his annoying flirting, how he always goes just a little too far pushing your buttons.

But he’s your friend.

(And that’s all you’ll ever be to him, too).

All you can do is chug your drink, hoping the alcohol dampens the racing pulse of your heart.

“Thanks, I actually pay for my perfume, unlike you, you fucking delinquent,” you manage to spit out.

Finally he pulls back, eyes locked on you. There’s an intensity behind them you can’t quite name, but one you’ve grown familiar with.

He’s playing with you.

A low hum vibrates from his throat in response, his gaze traveling down to your lips. “What’re you drinking?”

He changes the subject, as he always does when things threaten to get too serious, too real. Always running away, afraid to face the ever-insistent voice inside him that evokes a pause the moment before he hurls himself over the edge into desire.

You smirk. “Why don’t you try it?”

Bringing the cup to his face, it rests on his lower lip as you tilt it upwards, the saccharine liquid pouring down his throat. His eyes never leave yours as he swallows. A small trail dribbles down his chin while you place the empty plastic cup onto the counter beside you.

“Messy boy,” you coo, tone as falsely sweet as the drink lingering on his lips.

Grabbing his face, you pull him towards you, close enough you can make out the faint freckles decorating his cheeks. You collect the sugary liquor on your tongue as it travels along his skin, slightly rough from his freshly-shaved stubble. When you reach the corner of his mouth, you place a teasing peck before releasing your grasp.

“Someone should really teach you some manners, ‘Kuna.” And that devilish smile spreads across your face.

You see, you can play with him, too.

He stifles the giddy laugh building in his chest as he fixes his gaze back on you. “And someone should teach you how to make a drink, that shit was nasty.”

“You entitled brat,” you snap back, pushing him away with a hand against his chest. “I make excellent drinks, otherwise why else would you end up drunk on my couch every weekend, hm?”

“Maybe I just like the couch’s company,” he grins, dimples poking through the darkened lines spanning his face.

You’re both just staring at each other, waiting for something to happen, for someone to make a move. The air is electric, buzzing with that imperceptible desire.

Fuck it.

Just as you move to lean into him, a noise cuts through the static.

“Sukuna!” someone calls from the depths of the party.

His head whips around before shooting you an almost apologetic glance. “Guess someone else requires my attention.”

“Wouldn’t wanna keep them waiting for everyone’s favorite asshole,” you mock. With a mirrored smack of his ass, you send him away into the chaos surrounding you.

In his absence, your head swirls, overwhelmed with the alcohol and the lights and the sudden heat in your core.

Just friends.

You’re just friends.

Taking in a steadying breath, your hands shake as you pour another drink.

But at what point does it stop being a game? When do you decide to stop playing?

With a sigh you knock it back in one gulp before wandering between the bodies crowding the space.

The rest of the party is all skin and noise. It’s fluid and blurry and utterly debaucherous, the way you throw your arms around your friends, the way your body moves with each increasingly loud and repetitive song.

By the time the next few hours have passed, your feet start to ache as you make your way from the swath of strangers crowding the makeshift DJ booth at the front of the house.

Stumbling towards the back, a familiar voice calls your name.

“Where ya goin’, pretty?”

Sukuna is sprawled across one of the stained couches lining the walls, an unfamiliar girl hanging on his side. Her hands rest across his chest as her eyes cover you disapprovingly, nails digging into his shirt when you refuse to give her an ounce of attention.

“Lookin’ for somewhere to sit down,” you sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“Got a free seat right here,” he smirks, patting his thigh. This fucker.

An angry glare forms along the girl’s face as she stares at you with a displeased grunt. Crossing your arms, you let out a breathy chuckle. “I would, but I wouldn’t wanna interrupt anything.”

Sukuna never even turns towards the girl who now traces her fingertips down his chest. “Nothin’ to interrupt here, baby.”

Exchanging a quick glance at the increasingly unhappy stranger lounged across him, she lets out an annoyed scoff as she rolls her eyes, finally removing herself from Sukuna. Brushing past you, she tries to shove into your shoulder before she misses, tumbling forward and back onto the dance floor.

You can’t help but giggle at the failed show of dominance, your eyes now finding their way back to Sukuna. He pats his thighs again expectantly, eyebrows quirking as he awaits your response.

He’s fucking with you, of course.

But before you know it, you’re standing between his legs. With a small sigh, you seat yourself on his lap, bare legs straddling him. A whisper of mischief dances behind his eyes while his hands make their way to your hips, holding you firmly in place.

“See? Isn’t this much more comfortable?” he taunts.

Heat builds in your core at how low his voice is, the rumbling of thunder just before a storm.

“Mmm,” you hum, letting your dissatisfaction show as you click your tongue. Wrapping your arms easily around his neck, your fingertips absentmindedly trace the lines of his tattoos to where they end at the neckline of his t-shirt. “It’s a bit better, but something’s still missing.”

“Oh yeah?” When he smiles, the lines adorning his skin crease invitingly. “And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You can’t help but grin silently. Because you can fuck with him, too.

Rolling your hips forward, your clothed pussy drags along the outline of his cock. The firm denim of his jeans provides just enough friction to have you stifling a moan. He inhales sharply through his nose, the soft sound cutting through the static noise surrounding you.

“Isn’t that better?” you coo teasingly as his fingertips dig into your waist.

A choked groan leaves his throat, his inability to let you have the upperhand fighting against the sudden desire to pin you down on this shitty couch and fuck you right here. Attempting to shake the thought off, his head falls forward into your neck.

Of course he’s thought about you like that before - you’re gorgeous, fucking hilarious, and somehow just as stubborn as he is. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

But some small part of him worries that the moment he pushes you too far, you’ll run, just like everyone else in his life. He was always too intense, too angry, too much. But not to you - you seemed to love him in spite of it, maybe even because of it.

Maybe that’s why he lets himself play this eternal game of cat and mouse, the push and pull.

But fuck, right now he wants to pull.

He wants to pull you against him, dragging you along the length of his hardening cock through his boxers. He wants to pull you up and down as he fucks into you, feeling your warm walls meld around him. He wants to pull your lips apart with his, tasting how sweet you are, whispering things he wouldn’t dare say to anyone else. Anyone but you.

The words feel heavy on the tip of his tongue. I want you. I want you. I want you. They’re too weighted, he worries. Instead, he settles for biting at your neck, hoping that your skin between his teeth will be enough to satiate his body’s need.

“S-shit,” you stammer at the sensations of his canines digging into your flesh. “Acting like a fuckin’ teething puppy, hm? Need someone to train some manners into you? Or do you want me to tell you to sit, stay, tell you you’re doing a good job?”

And he does. But of course, he’d never tell you that.

Instead, he bites harder, leaving dark bruises in his wake, a reminder of his mark on you.

As his lips trace up your neck, he pauses to nibble along your earlobe. “Just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” he whispers, his breath hot. “Wouldn’t want anyone taking what’s mine.”

You nearly whimper at the words - his? - but you manage to hold back, instead letting your neediness out with another circle of your hips. He hopes you miss the way his breath catches in his throat at the movement.

“Oh? I’m yours now?” you tease, silently pleading he doesn’t notice the lingering waver in your voice. “Quite possessive, don’t you think, ‘Kuna?”

You feel him chuckle more than you hear it, the warm puffs of air gently blowing against your hair. “I’m only possessive of things I want,” he growls. God, you always loved that rasp in his voice, like a gravel road lining the way home.

At this point, you’re sure your panties are soaked through, the tip of his cock dragging along your clit through them. You’ve never gone this far with him before, never been so bold, so desperate.

And he fucking loves it.

“And what do you want?” Your voice is airy, breathless, as your pace seems to pick up. You’re grateful for the dim LEDs flashing distantly from the depths of the party for hiding the blush undoubtedly dusting your cheeks.

Trailing wet kisses along your jawline, his mouth comes to rest just in front of you. His lips are soft, barely brushing against yours, a few millimeters apart. So close. So fucking close.

“I think it’s rather obvious.” His breath smells like liquor and desire as he whispers, “I want you.”

a/n: getting out of my writing slump by going back to my roots (wanting to fuck sukuna)