#who will probably not answer that was not a serious suggestion
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lisafication · 1 year ago
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On Section 230 (Or: How to kill the internet in one court case)
This isn't going to be quite as long as the last lengthy post, but I thought I might talk for a moment about Title 47, Section 230 in US law. Now, I myself am not an accredited lawyer nor even American, so take this with a grain of salt, but I have some experience with its implementation and how necessary it is for a site to function.
I see a number of people arguing for its removal, largely, as far as I can tell, to screw over tech companies. Now, I can certainly understand disliking Meta, Twitter, Reddit, or other such companies but I want to just explain the legal framework behind how modern social media and other content hosting sites (such as Sufficient Velocity, Archive of Our Own or tumblr itself) operate.
As a content host, you are the publisher of any content on your platform. That's why Terms of Service inevitably include language such as "you agree to grant us a non-exclusive, permanent, irrevocable, royalty-free license to Your Content as described above".
Without that license, sites simply don't have the right to publish anything you post. How does this tie into Section 230? Well, by default under US law, you are liable for anything you publish. Section 230 carves out an exception for this, as described with the following language in section(c):
"(c)Protection for “Good Samaritan” blocking and screening of offensive material
(1)Treatment of publisher or speaker: No provider or user of an interactive computer service shall be treated as the publisher or speaker of any information provided by another information content provider.
(2)Civil liability: No provider or user of an interactive computer service shall be held liable on account of—
(A) any action voluntarily taken in good faith to restrict access to or availability of material that the provider or user considers to be obscene, lewd, lascivious, filthy, excessively violent, harassing, or otherwise objectionable, whether or not such material is constitutionally protected; or
(B) any action taken to enable or make available to information content providers or others the technical means to restrict access to material described in paragraph (1)." To de-legalese that, subsection(1) means that we, the content host, are not liable for user-generated content, while subsection(2) means that we are not liable for any good faith (though this is a very fuzzy term) attempt to moderate any given content. In short, subsection(1) means we don't all get arrested if someone posts CSAM, while subsection(2) means that people can't, for example, take us to court for violating their First Amendment rights for deleting a 'phobic screed or banning them as a result.
In other words, without these carve outs, we get shut down the second someone official notices illegal content on the platform — even if we ourselves are unaware.
I mention CSAM because it is by far the most common rhetorical bludgeon used to attack Section 230 — the argument is that it means content hosts are allowed to let it proliferate on their platform. And the answer to that is... well, not really. There's already a law for that.
As described in Title 18, Section 2258A, content hosts have a duty to report CSAM — I won't quote the whole thing as more-or-less the entire text is relevant, rather than a specific section, but this is the text describing the duty to report:
"In order to reduce the proliferation of online child sexual exploitation and to prevent the online sexual exploitation of children, a provider—
(i)shall, as soon as reasonably possible after obtaining actual knowledge of any facts or circumstances described in paragraph (2)(A), take the actions described in subparagraph (B); and
(ii)may, after obtaining actual knowledge of any facts or circumstances described in paragraph (2)(B), take the actions described in subparagraph (B)."
I'm not going to break down precisely what those paragraphs are referring to because that would make this post way, way longer, but to summarise: as soon as we find out about it, we have to take specific steps including reporting it to the relevant agencies. We are also granted certain exemptions from the usual restrictions on user data to report identifying information we may have on the offender(s).
To whit, we are already legally compelled to do essentially everything in our power about CSAM (as defined by US law) that we learn about. Blowing up Section 230 isn't going to improve this situation, it's just going to obliterate social media and the internet as we know it. The answer is (must be) technological, rather than legal.
As is something of a theme in my posting, content moderation remains the great unsolved problem of the digital landscape, and any seemingly-easy solution, isn't.
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sewerfight · 11 months ago
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when I was around twelve I used to sit at the family computer and send hatemail to a white french dude named Jacques who was a self proclaimed communist on Tumblr. This was back in the day when you didn't need a blog to send anon hate. I had no real beef with him but I just didn't like his tone. used to send him "SHUT UP Jacques" periodically. and he'd answer every single one of my asks like "who is this?? show your face or I'll fucking kill you" and I'd be like "now now, that doesn't make sense, jacques" all haughty and he'd get so fucking mad at me. One time he posted a selfie and I sent him an ask claiming I was a psychologist and that his hair parting suggested that he wasn't a communist at all. and he took it deliriously serious and went off on a 2,000 word rant. I can remember going to stay at my grandparents over that weekend, so I didn't even respond to the rant until I came back. I could've chosen to end it there, but when I returned, I sent him another ask which was like "psychologist here again: if you were a communist your hair parting would be in the middle. evenly distributed. All behavioural signs point to someone who doesn't take their own values seriously." and he went ballistic. really swearing at me. all caps type beat. he never turned the asks off, btw. which always made me wonder if he didn't know how to, or if he didn't want to cause he was convinced he was fighting a war, and this action would ensure he lost it. anyway this went on for weeks until one day I completely forgot about him like he was some kind of childhood imaginary friend I'd conjured up in my loneliness. but yesterday I happened to recall the whole scenario, because my buddy was like "remember when you were twelve and I came over to your house, and you showed me on the computer how you'd been terrorizing this random French guy for days on end. And you were laughing like fucking crazy. and I said it wasn't funny because he probably had problems, and you were like 'oh.' and you looked a bit guilty for a second, but then you went and got a grapefruit from the kitchen and threw it out of the second story window at my kid brother, who was playing in the street, and then you started laughing again?" Well. when she put it like that, needless to say I felt bad. so Jacques if you're out there I'm sorry I was such a little shit. you had totally normal hair, and you only wanted people to share stuff. If it's any consolation I know every day of my life that I'm probably going to hell for the sick things I have done
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coconutdays · 1 year ago
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seat taker
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s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?
w.c. 10.6k
w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)
a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out
"go sit next to him then."
you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.
"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."
she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.
"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."
you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."
"you're insane."
"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."
"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."
you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.
"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."
"huh. what was that last part?"
your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...
with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.
its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.
poker face, poker face, poker face.
it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.
there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.
"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.
"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"
you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.
"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.
a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."
"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.
you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.
"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.
even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."
"you can ask him for that too~"
"shut up, you menace."
"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."
"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"
"bye!"
and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.
suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.
and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.
you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.
he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.
god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–
"you have pretty handwriting."
"I–what?"
you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.
and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.
"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."
he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."
you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.
"be my guest." you say without hesitance
he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.
he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.
"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips
your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"
he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.
"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"
the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.
"y-yeah."
"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."
a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.
"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"
he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.
"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"
you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.
"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response
at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.
"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.
"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."
"what?"
you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."
you hear a puff of a laugh from geto
"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."
you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"
every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.
geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."
you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.
amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"
you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."
geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"
you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."
"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"
you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.
geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"
you nod, curious at what he was going to do.
he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.
when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.
"that's where the frat house is."
you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"
geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."
you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"
"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.
you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.
"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."
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just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.
although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.
you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.
your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.
"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.
the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.
"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.
she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"
she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.
you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.
it's geto.
his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.
the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.
you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.
you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.
you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.
you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.
"is it as cool as people say?"
you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.
it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.
you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.
"yeah!" you nod
geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you
"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.
"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him
"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you
"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.
"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"
you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.
"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.
geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'
you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.
it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.
he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.
"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.
geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.
you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.
"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.
"you want something?" geto asks you back
"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him
geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"
you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.
he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."
"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink
you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.
"you didn't want a drink?"
geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."
"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.
"what kinda car do you have?"
"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble
"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.
"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.
"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."
"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.
"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out
he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"
"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."
geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"
although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."
"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you
"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.
"you don't know my name, rig–"
"y/n."
you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.
"what?"
"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you
"oh." you sink back into yourself
"do you know mine?"
you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."
"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"
"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"
the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.
geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.
"what's wrong?" he asks quickly
"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."
you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.
"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.
you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"
"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."
you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."
"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."
"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it
"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.
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when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.
an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.
"there you go."
he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.
"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.
when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.
"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.
"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back
"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"
you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.
geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.
you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.
after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.
"this is your place right?"
another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.
"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.
when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.
"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him
"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"
"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.
"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"
"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.
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you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.
you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.
your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.
there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.
by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.
"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."
It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.
you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.
you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.
and gojo's voice, "idiot."
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you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up
suguru
hey
y/n
hi
suguru
you wanna take satoru's seat next class?
y/n
he wants to flirt with mika again?
suguru
not rlly lol.
y/n
?????
suguru
I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)
y/n
lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of
suguru
haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat
y/n
okay?
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when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.
there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.
three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.
gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.
you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.
"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.
"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.
"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."
ah. that's why it seemed so out of character
"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."
suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."
"really? about?"
for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."
"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."
"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"
you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"
he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."
"what?"
suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."
"for who?"
"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."
he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.
you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"
"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."
"Zenin?!"
"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.
you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."
"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."
"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.
"no?"
"no."
and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.
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when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.
"hello?"
"hey hey! I have a question!"
you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.
"what's up?"
"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."
"the fembot costume?!"
you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.
"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"
"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you
"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"
"well I've never done that." you grumble
"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."
"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"
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it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.
you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.
on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.
your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.
it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.
however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–
he just made eye contact with you.
you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.
fuck you satoru gojo.
suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.
"you bought another costume?"
"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."
"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.
you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri
"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending
"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.
"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.
"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans
his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.
you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.
you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"
"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"
his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.
"are you kidding me? you're high?"
"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.
you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.
"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."
"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."
"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.
"yes."
"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."
the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."
"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer
irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.
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you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car
after their date.
which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.
the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.
you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.
it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.
"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."
it's suguru.
there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.
he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.
this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.
suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.
suguru
are you still here?
I'm sobered up now.
he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.
buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz
the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.
"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.
nervous, you mutter, "what."
suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.
"why didn't you answer me?"
"do you really not know the answer?"
"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.
"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.
you're confused, "but–"
"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.
"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.
the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.
"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."
"since when?" you peep
"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession
"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess
suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"
"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.
"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor
"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."
"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."
you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."
suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."
"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"
"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.
"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.
suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"
"no, I like it here too."
theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.
"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.
he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.
"suguru."
he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.
he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.
he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.
a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.
"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses
suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."
your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–
"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.
you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."
he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"
"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.
suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.
he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"
you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.
"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."
suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.
"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"
you give him the same answer again.
"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."
the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.
you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.
"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck
"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."
"yeah?"
"mhm"
"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"
"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.
"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles
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you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.
he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.
"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way
it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."
"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"
"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.
"move your panties to the side."
when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.
"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"
"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.
he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.
"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly
your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.
"are you close angel?"
concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.
"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.
you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."
he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"
the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."
it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."
like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"
you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.
he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"
you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance
suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.
" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion
"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper
"no." you rake your hands down his arms
suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."
the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.
"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.
every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.
"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."
it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.
"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."
"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"
suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"
a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.
"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.
he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.
at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.
suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."
the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."
"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders
"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"
"yeah."
"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.
suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.
"we can do that later right?"
"right."
12K notes · View notes
temis-de-leon · 9 months ago
Text
Pick me girls and Dateables - Part 3
Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)
Part 1 - Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)
Part 2 - Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)
Masterlist
CW: pick me girl behavior, suggestive, mentions of sex, mentions of violence and threats, mentions of concubines (no concubines, tho), implied marriage (??), jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, the most ooc out of every part of the series, Barbatos's part is based on one of his chats (A patissier's suffering?)
A/N at the end.
.
Diavolo
So the Devildom had concubines, what about it? It's not like Diavolo had any concubines. You were his only partner and, apparently, the first one in a long while. You had nothing to worry about.
Still, it was impossible not to feel so dejected when every single one of the demons in his court buttered him up so blatantly, not caring that you were next to him, arms linked and fingers intertwined.
And he smiled. Of course, what else could he do but smile? He had a duty to fulfill and that probably meant keeping certain people happy, right?
At least, that was the mantra in your head. Your heart kept hurting itself, but having a reason made it manageable.
"Well? Have you thought about it?"
You turned to your side and stared at the demoness beside you. She was mesmerizing and looking at her directly made you lose focus.
Have I thought about it? I haven't stop thinking about it.
"Remember that I'm acting on behalf of his wellbeing" she said sweetly, caressing your wrist like she wanted to flirt with you "And I guess I could make you happy too"
That made you laugh without an ounce of humor. Both of you knew she wasn't being serious about that one and you wondered why she said it in the first place. Making her Diavolo's concubine would make her his wife in everything but paper. Did she expect giving you orgasms would make you happier about it?
"Leave me alone" you whispered against your drink, not trusting your voice to act decently.
"How can you be so selfish?" she spat, leaving you speechless "This is for his own good. How long will you live, human? Do you expect him to be alone after your death? My only wish is to keep him company once you're gone and starting now would make the transition easier. He'll still love you, sure, but this way he could be happier. How can you not understand something so simple?"
A demon she was, you remembered. Had you been a regular human, you would've believed her concerned face, but to you it was obvious how impatient she was and how much she wanted to leave you there, alone and breaking, so she could finally speak to Diavolo.
"MC"
Both of you jumped, turning around just to see Barbatos's unfazed smile.
"Lord Diavolo asks for you" he informed when you didn't answer, too surprised to react. "Follow me if you please"
"If I may" intervened your companion, close to giving you a heart attack "I must speak to Prince Diavolo. It's an urgent matter"
The butler looked at you, asking for your permission, but you didn't know how to react. It seemed your throat decided to stop working at that exact moment.
"Very well, then"
The demoness eagerly jumped at his words, not wasting a second in leaving the corner you were occupying to look for the prince, who had finally stopped talking to his subjects and was sitting alone in his throne.
Barbatos stared at her before offering you his arm.
"You have nothing to worry about"
He seemed confident, so you believed him. However, the distance you walked towards the throne felt longer than ever.
Your boyfriend looked unnaturally serious at your arrival, an expression his face was not made for. It softened when he saw you, but, still, he didn't fully smile.
"My love, come here" he palmed his thigh and not in a million years would you reject that offer.
Diavolo smiled at the speed you moved, barely restraining himself from kissing you. Instead, he turned to the demoness and presented her to you.
"I believe you've met her already, MC. Did you know about her offer? Did you know she wishes to serve me?"
He patiently waited for your answer, holding you against his chest and caressing your hip bones with the pad of his fingers and the tip of his nails, making you shiver.
Serve? That's the word she decided to use? She wasn't lying, sure, but it was far from the intention she actually had.
"We talked about it" you said in the end.
There was silence for a few seconds, broken only by the sounds of people still drinking and dancing. Diavolo and Barbatos looked at each other, having a conversation no one else could hear.
"I take it you rejected her proposition?"
Obviously.
You nodded and he cupped your face with a sad frown. Your heart skipped a beat.
"That's a pity, my love"
For a moment you moved away from him, too lost in your incredulity to answer or even acknowledge the crazy smile on the demoness's face, but, not even a second later, Diavolo brought you back to him and continued.
"She would've make a wonderful lady in waiting"
Huh?
"Wait, what?"
Both of you ignored the woman, who looked like she'd been slapped in the face with something rotten, which, in her mind, was probably accurate.
"I asked to serve you, my Lord, not the human..."
"Beware your words" interrupted Barbatos, his tail swishing behind him like a whip.
She stopped talking then, very obviously swallowing her opinions. Diavolo speaked again.
"By serving you, she'll serve me. Give her an opportunity to make you happy and, if she fails, we'll get rid of her"
What did he mean, get rid of her? You opened your mouth to ask, but he jerked his leg, making you jump. His smile was wide, but his eyes held a warning.
You decided to let it go.
"Okay"
Diavolo laughed as loud as he usually did, finally hugging you and ignoring both Barbatos's reprimanding glance and the demoness's sour expression.
But wait.
Wait.
He said 'lady in waiting'. Like... Uh...
Were you getting married?
Barbatos
'I'll be waiting in the classroom'
That's what his last message said.
And you'd never be dumb enough to reject that invitation. ¿Spending time with your boyfriend and eating his homemade cookies? Hell yeah!
You just had to be careful not to catch Beel's attention, avoiding the main hallways and hiding between the taller students, which were almost everyone.
By the time you finally arrived to the classroom (you got lost, but you'd never admit that to anyone), you were fairly sure all of your classmates had already gone home.
Alas, you were wrong.
Barbatos's figure was as composed as ever, but you knew him just enough to know how irritated he actually was. Were you this late? It was never your intention!
But no, no, that wasn't the root of the problem.
You knew her, kinda. Not personally, but you'd seen her a lot of times in the castle, cleaning plates in the kitchen or clearing up the table after one of Diavolo's dinner parties. She looked weird in the school's uniform instead of the one the maids used, but you guessed they too had to go to RAD, just like the brothers did.
So why did Barbatos look so uncomfortable?
Both of them stared at you when you entered, walking towards him while staring at her in search of an explanation.
"MC! You're finally here"
He smiled at you with candid eyes, discreetly holding your hand and restraining himself from kissing you in front of the girl, who cleared her throat to break the moment and grinned at Barbatos like you weren't there at all.
Foolish mistake if you'd ever seen one.
Your boyfriend frowned before turning in her direction, clearly giving her one last oportunity before kicking her out of there and reclaiming his alone time with you.
The girl purposely made herself meek, lowering her gaze as if making visual contact with him was too much, something you could totally understand.
"Master Barbatos, please, I'm begging you. I just wish to learn"
You raised your eyebrows and waited for his answer. Instead, she kept talking.
"I'll follow every one of your orders, sir, I promise" arms behind her back and body slightly swaying, you now understood why he was in the edge of snapping "The others don't appreciate you as much as I do. I'll be your best student"
He stared at her, you stared at her, she stared at him, batting her lashes with a weirdly fake innocent smile.
Her demeanor vanished when the Royal Butler spoke.
"I recomend you stop this nonsense at once" he finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence "You're embarrassing yourself and Lord Diavolo's service's good reputation"
The poor maid gaped like a fish, although you weren't feeling bad for her.
You stayed behind him, closing the distance as much as possible while staring at her over his shoulder. If you ate a cookie now, would it be too much? He'd probably forgive you, but you'd rather not risk your chances.
"You will stay on cleaning duty as long as I say and you will stop the rumors that I know have been traveling all around the castle"
She lowered her gaze again, this time in submission and humiliation. His voice sounded venomous and you could swear the room's temperature dropped a few degrees. The air was still and smelled damped and rottening.
"If the gossip hasn't disappear by midnight, rest assured, I will make sure you keep your mouth fully shut"
The threat was clear in his words, something that shouldn't, but still surprised you. The maid trembled in response before bowing and running out the classroom.
You stared at the door in surprise, not turning around until he talked again.
"Do forgive me, my dear, but you know how much I dispise rats"
He sounded scarier than ever, letting his forked tongue slip between his teeth before he searched around the room, like he was trying to find more pests.
Then, he turned to you and smiled like nothing happened, holding a cookie to your mouth as the tips of his gloved fingers caressed your jaw.
"Let's forget about this ordeal, MC. After all, I saved these just for you"
Solomon
If there was something worse than feeling jealous, it was Solomon knowing you were jealous.
You thought you could catch a break, uh? Well, you couldn't be more wrong: your boyfriend knew the moment he saw you staring at that witch.
She was cute, you guessed? Nothing exceptional, but not hideous either. You wouldn't mind at all if not for the fact that she used her appearance like a nuclear weapon.
"Oh, you're so cute!" she'd told you once "I wish I was as cute as you!"
And at first you thought nothing of it. She was just being nice! A little weird about it, sure, but who wasn't weird in RAD?
Except, she wasn't looking at you when she said that, but, instead, at your boyfriend.
Of course, Solomon, unbothered as ever, was too engrossed in the cooking book he'd borrowed from the library to pay attention.
(Later that night you had to order takeout, but you were already counting on that).
The point was: she was trying too hard. You couldn't blame her, really, you dated Solomon for a reason; but still. She was getting on your nerves.
"I'm so dumb... I'll never get it! Solomon, can you help me with this?"
Opening a door with magic? Difficult? Yeah, right.
"I've never dated a human before... How is it, MC? I bet Solomon is a great boyfriend"
He has his moments.
"Solomon! Sit with me, I saved you a seat! Why? Oh, I concentrate better when you're here!"
Shit, could she concentrate at all?
"You're so powerful! You'll have to let me have him for a night, MC! He could teach me a couple of things..."
You closed your fist, staring at her with a frown while talking yourself out of mauling her across the table. You didn't need Lucifer's rants about impropriety and self restraint on top of all of this.
"MC and I have a lesson tonight" the sorcerer said with a polite smile, unusually kind eyes and an unreadable expression "Would you like to tag along?"
She sighed and rolled her eyes, lowering her gaze in embarrassment, although you weren't sure if she was really embarrassed.
"Could we hang out alone, tho? I don't want MC to see how dumb I am. They're so much better than me! I bet I need you more than they do!"
Well, you didn't need to study with her to know she was dumb as bricks.
You looked at Solomon, opening your eyes so much in bewilderment that even the insides of your cornea were getting dry. Not a second later he turned to you, smiling with mischief, and then you remembered who were you actually dating.
"It's either this or nothing. Be in Purgatory Hall at 6, we won't be waiting for you"
The witch quickly looked at you, frustrated at his words. It wasn't ideal, you knew, thirdwheeling your crush and his partner in a study date, but what else did she expect? Every other option was plain stupid.
"Okay"
She snorted, trying to hide the disgust and disappoinment without much success. Once she left you alone, swaying her hips and her ponytail, you punched Solomon in the arm and reveled in his pain.
"MC!! Relax!"
"Don't tell me to relax!"
You tried to choke him, but he hid his neck under his shoulders before you could lift yourself to reach him better. He knew you too well.
"MC, I have an idea! You'll like it, believe me!"
"Oh, really?"
"I swear!"
Once free from your attacks, Solomon avoided your eyes and stared at his hands. It took him a couple of seconds before he could look at you again, cheeks red, while he spoke from his heart.
"I couldn't care less about her attempts, MC, but she's obviously making you uncomfortable. I won't let this keep going if I can do something about it"
"But why did you invite her to our lesson, then?"
He laughed in a carefree manner, still blushing while he took your hands in his, looking at you like he was about to uncover a precious secret.
"As your teacher, I want you to explore your potential to the maximum"
His voice lowered to a whisper and you got closer to him, letting your body shiver when his breath caressed the skin of your neck.
"Say, MC, wouldn't you like to have your very own training dummy?"
Simeon
Oh, the privileges of being friends with the most powerful demons in the Devildom.
All you had to do was pout a little and act like you were miserable, missing the warmth of the sun and the familiar scenery of the human world. Of course, all of them knew you were exaggerating, but none would take the risk of actually making you sad.
So there you were, waiting for your drinks while Simeon sunbathed outside, sitting in one of those ornate metal chairs and writing some loose ideas for his next book in a napkin. After all, you'd be crazy if you ever went to the human realm without using the opportunity to have a date with your sweetheart of a boyfriend.
If not for the brightness of his suit, he would look like a college student from an old movie, all dreamy and focused in his own world.
And, apparently, you weren't the only one thinking that.
There were a group of girls outside the cafe, all of them young, maybe even fresh out of high school, staring at Simeon like he was some kind of celebrity. Maybe it was his angelic charisma? Maybe it was just his good looks? Whatever the reason, the girls seemed ready enough to conquer the world and they wanted to start with your boyfriend.
You studied your surroundings, realizing with an uncomfortable weigh in your chest just how busy the place was. There was no way you were getting your order in less than five minutes, even being the first in line, so the only thing you could do was wait and hope the girls wouldn't bother Simeon too much.
They stayed in a closed circle for a few moments until one of them finally dared to go and talk to him. She tried to sit in the second chair, but Simeon stopped her with a quick movement of his hand, probably saying he was saving it for you.
That made you laugh, but you were starting to get second hand embarrassment. You could tell she was trying hard to catch his attention, twirling her hair around her finger and hugging her waist to make her breasts look bigger.
You couldn't see Simeon's face, but, by the way he was scratching the paper, it was obvious he was losing focus on whatever he was previously writing, which would only make him irritated.
Fortunately, and rather rudely, the waitress finally gave you the styrofoam cups and immediately ignored you again, but you couldn't care less. The girl returned to her friends just as you stepped out of the cafe, letting you know part of what happened.
"He said he didn't know what part of him made him look interested in me" she snarled with a hint of hurt in her voice, trying to hide it with offense "That I should find someone that actually finds me entertaining"
Her friends gasped and you had to stop yourself from laughing. He wasn't usually that snappy, but she did interrupt his daydreaming.
"I don't even care what he thinks, he's just some dude! I can catch anyone I want, you know?"
Anyone but him, apparently, but the only thing her friends could do was agree.
Shaking your head and holding one drink in each hand, you stopped the eavesdropping and hurried towards him, leaning over his shoulder to kiss his cheek and smiling softly when he raised his hands to stroke your hair. He was warm from the sun, but he still curled close to you even after letting you sit next to him.
The girls audibly gasped at your actions, clearly offended by your presence as if Simeon would change his mind if they waited enough.
You couldn't bring yourself to pay them attention. Not when he was caressing your knuckles with such love in his touch and a feeling so deep in his eyes that it made your heart violently stop.
"So what were you writing?"
He smiled and eagerly showed you the napkin. By the time you turned around, the girls were already gone.
Tagging the party: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae @eliciria @darkflowerav
Author's note:
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Simeon's part sucked the soul out of me (not in the good way), but at least it's well-written. Also, this will be the last part for now: I don't know Mephisto, Raphael or Thirteen enough, so they won't be in any of my posts (for now)
3K notes · View notes
zarameraki · 11 days ago
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🖊️💌 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗽𝗲𝗻-𝗽𝗮𝗹 🖊️💌
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 prisoner sukuna x his penpal 𖥔 just plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 pussayy eating rawr but also u suck his dick so 𖥔 uraume and toji found family 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw
: ̗̀➛ words: 10k?? idfk it's long
: ̗̀➛ notes: happy halloween, mamas! 🎃 i know ive been MIA for a while but thats because i wasnt feeling creative. but now ive dumped a 10k sukuna fic on you for you to read at 3 in the morning. this one's got a kick to it yall. its long but give the bitch a chance, shes good. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
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So, this was where you’d ended up—on a site for writing to prisoners. A pen-pal with an inmate.
How lonely did you have to be to fill out your info, pay a yearly fee, and do this? The answer: really, really lonely. Orphaned, friendless, and scarred from a relationship that had left you with broken ribs and a blind eye. And as if to top it all off, you wanted to reach out to a criminal. I guess you deserved at least that small bit of connection.
You scrolled through inmate profiles, noting their crimes—arson, theft, cybercrime, drug trafficking, money embezzlement, and so on. None of them were charged with homicides or serious offences.
One profile did catch your eye. The smirk in his mugshot suggested he’d probably killed someone and managed to evade the cops before they could pin anything on him.
“Sukuna Ryomen,” you whispered, clicking on his profile and staring at a laundry list of crimes. “Aggravated assault, drug manufacturing and distribution, kidnapping—Jesus—extortion, cybercrime, Satanism . . . what the hell?” You chuckled as you scrolled further. “Bank burglary, vandalism of religious properties—so that’s the Satanism part—illegal possession of firearms, stalking?”
Why was this man even on this website, given his long list of crimes?
You zoomed in on his mugshot. Was it wrong to find him attractive despite his record? He truly embodied the term “bad boy,” though he didn’t look like a boy at all. He was ruggedly handsome with hollowed eyes. His light-mink hair was swept back, with a few strands falling over his forehead, and he wore a single hoop earring in his left ear. Black tattoos marked his nose bridge, jaw, and the centre of his forehead, while narrow-eyed designs were inked on his cheekbones.
You wondered if he’d get any letters, given his long rap sheet. Maybe delusional women like you, who’s pussies sang for high-profile criminals, sure. 
Licking your lower lip, you picked up a piece of paper and a pen, tapping the end against the sheet as you continued to study his face.
Then you started writing.
Hello, Sukuna Ryomen, 
My name is Y/N. 
You thought it over. For now, you'd keep it light before diving into your deeper issues. It felt easier to share your thoughts with someone you’d never meet face-to-face than with a stranger in a bar whose only interest was getting into your pants.
You kept writing.
Dear Sukuna Ryomen,
I’m currently living in an apartment complex that’s in desperate need of renovation. I’m harvesting cockroaches—no, I’m not eating them; the fuckers just won’t stop nesting in my kitchen cabinets, and I’m tired of spending money on pest sprays. On top of that, I’m pretty broke, barely managing to keep a roof over my head. I’ve even considered trying to seduce the landlord into reducing my rent, though I doubt any man would find a woman with one working eye appealing. I noticed you have an extra beneath your real eyes. Care to share?
Anyway, this is my first time writing to someone like you, so apologies if it’s a bit awkward. I wish I could send a nude, but I’m pretty sure you’d wish you were blind after that. I feel like I’m rambling like this is my diary, so I should probably wrap it up. If you want to write back, feel free. I don’t mean to sound privileged, but I’m lonely as fuck.
Thank you (?),  
Y/N
P.S. About the Satanism—care to explain?
You didn’t bother proof-reading and folded the letter into an envelope, sealing it with a lick. From your drawer, you pulled out a pack of old stickers—remnants of your childhood—and placed one where the envelope met. You wrote the prison address provided on the website and added the stamps you’d bought during your walk, which was your final push into becoming a prison pen-pal. After selecting Sukuna Ryomen on the site and uploading your ID and other required documents, you waited for your profile to be approved. 
After three days of waiting, you sent out the letter first thing in the morning and anxiously awaited a response.
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Sukuna’s fists collided with the inmate’s face, each strike more brutal than the last. Blood splattered across his knuckles as the crowd of orange-clad convicts roared with twisted delight, their voices a chorus of vile encouragement. “Finish him!” they taunted, while others jeered at the barely conscious man, urging him to get up and fight back, to aim a desperate kick at Sukuna’s balls.
“Sukuna!” A guard’s voice cut through the chaos, and soon the officers were pushing through the throng, shutting the prisoners who dared resist their authority. “Get up, now!”
“Fuck off!” Sukuna snarled, his lips curling into a sneer as he shoved the guard aside. He watched with cold satisfaction as the man lay still, blood pooling beneath him. All this because the idiot had the nerve to laugh when Sukuna missed a three-pointer. Now, the bald bastard had paid the price for his arrogance, and Sukuna breathed in the aftermath—his own dark victory painted in blood and broken bones.
Officer Gojo Satoru strode into the circle, handcuffs gleaming in his hand. 
Sukuna's eyes narrowed at the sight of the blue-eyed bastard, a wave of hatred surging through him so fierce he could almost feel his fingers tightening around Satoru's throat. The very thought of choking the life out of him fueled his dark desires.
Satoru’s father—the man responsible for dragging Sukuna down, catching him red-handed with crates of cocaine at the border, and sealing his fate with a fifty-year sentence. If Sukuna had known the old man’s spawn would end up as a deputy officer here, watching his every move with those piercing eyes, he would have never shown up to that cursed delivery. But no—he had wanted to play the good boss, personally seeing his precious cargo off. Now, every day behind bars was a constant reminder of that one fatal mistake, and Sukuna’s rage festered as he thought of the traitor, Yuji. The little fuck who sold him out would pay dearly, and Sukuna was already plotting the perfect revenge.
His own fucking nephew sold him off. Motherfucker wanted the throne for himself—an empire Sukuna built with his bare hands. 
“Throw him in the ice box,” Satoru commanded, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness. The officer roughly cuffed Sukuna’s wrists, shoving him forward. “Cool down, Big Guy. You’re not going any—”
Before he could finish, Sukuna rammed his forehead into Gojo’s nose, relishing the satisfying crunch as the lanky bastard staggered back. The inmates roared with approval from where they were restrained by the other officers. 
Gojo chuckled, dabbing at his bleeding nose with a pristine handkerchief, the kind only a spoiled little bitch like him would carry. “You think that’s funny?” he asked, his tone laced with condescension.
“Hilarious,” Sukuna whispered, a dark grin curling at his lips.
“Okay,” Gojo replied with a casual shrug. Without warning, his fist slammed into Sukuna’s jaw.
Once.
Twice.
Three fucking times.
The officers stood by, indifferent, as their captain unleashed his fury. For them, it was just another case of self-defence.
Sukuna finally collapsed to the ground, his vision swimming. Gojo leaned over him, his voice a venomous hiss. “Who’s laughing now?” A final, vicious kick to Sukuna’s chest left him gasping for breath. “Keep him in that freezer until he’s begging to be let out. No meals for a week.”
Sukuna’s vision blurred as he glared at Satoru’s retreating figure, the ringing in his ears barely drowning out the disappointed murmurs of his fellow inmates. His body, battered and beaten, finally surrendered to the encroaching darkness.
When he came to, he found himself in the prison’s infirmary, cocooned in three heated blankets. Yet the warmth did little to pierce the deep, bone-chilling cold that gripped him. The need to piss gnawed at him, but even that seemed distant compared to the icy numbness that had taken hold. 
“Welcome back to hell.” 
Sukuna raised his head from the pillows to find Uraume, the prison’s doctor. They were also the only person he tolerated, and somewhat close to since he ended up in the infirmary more than once. He hoped they considered him a ‘something’ after he killed a two-hundred pound guy for groping their ass in the cafeteria. How did he do it? He knew Uraume kept a pocket knife in their doctor’s coat and quickly swept it out and stuck it in the dick’s jugular. 
“How long have I been out for?” he asked, squirming his arm out of the blanket to rub his eyes. 
“A day.” 
“What?” Sukuna pulled himself out of the blanket by wiggling around like the fucking worms his cell mate Toji liked to collect every time they went in the courtyard to play. They’re better company than your grouchy ass, he said once. “How long was I in the ice box?” 
“Barely an hour.” Well, that’s just pussy behaviour from him. “They pulled you out before hypothermia killed you. What a way to die, am I right?” They chuckled, preparing some pills in a small disposable cup. “Here, take these. They’re nutrients.” 
“I could use actual food.” Sukuna downed them like a shot. God, he missed alcohol. “That blue-eyed bitch restricted my meals for a week.” 
“Fuck him.” Uraume took out a sandwich from their bag and threw it in Sukuna’s direction. “Just fake illness when you’re hungry. I’m always here to feed my favourite dog.” 
Sukuna snorted. “Go to hell.” 
“Already here.” Uraume clipped back their white hair with the black dyed red. Like someone smashed their head into the wall and the colour just bled to the sides. “Oh, this came for you.”  
Sukuna shoved the sandwich in his mouth and stretched his muscles before walking over, snatching the letter. It was already opened, a flimsy teddy-bear sticker hanging from the paper. “What the fuck is this?” 
“A letter.” 
“A letter? For me?” 
Uraume broke their attention from the computer to look at him. “Remember when you had me register you on that prison pen-pal bullshit after Toji received a pile of fan letters?”
Sukuna blinked. 
He definitely remembered being jealous when Toji got a letter from an artist who drew herself naked on paper for him, and a shit ton more asking for his dick size or when he’ll be out. Of course, Sukuna was envious of the attention. Plus, no one in prison made good company. He just wanted the taste of the outside world again after being locked in for five years now. Even if it was through ink on paper. 
But then Sukuna looked down at his first ever letter torn open. “Why is this open? Who read it?” If it was Satoru, he was going to rip his eyeballs from his sockets and feed it to Toji’s pet worm. 
“Relax. They’ve got to identify if there’s any substances attached to the paper, or any other shady shit. Whoever wrote to you is just a harmless nobody.” 
Sukuna frowned, bringing the letter up to his nose. It smelled like a plain envelope. No drugs, nothing.
He found purchase on the bed again, pulling out the folded paper and ironing the creases out on his leg. Here we go.
He began reading each word carefully. 
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A week went by since you’d mailed your letter to Sukuna Ryomen. A week of pure torture to hear something back from the criminal. You’d relaxed on Sunday because the post offices are closed, but on Monday, you were at your mailbox, watching the mailman sort out letters and slip them through the boxes. 
Once he left, you dashed to your box and flipped through the coupons, flyers, newsletters—
Your breath hitched. 
Everything dropped from your hand except the cream envelope with an address from the prison. You didn’t care about reading it upstairs and quickly, yet carefully, tore it open from the side, reading the writing. 
Trying to read it. 
Sukuna had terrible handwriting. It made you giggle. 
You leaned against the mailboxes and murmured the words written under your breath. 
Hey, Y/N
I don’t know how to start a letter since I’ve never written one so don’t mind if I hurt your little feelings. Don’t know if you’re aiming to entertain me or bore me to death with this “dear diary” bullshit. I thought I’d get a nude, at the very least. Hell, Toji over here—yeah, the bastard who was on the news last year with a thing for setting houses on fire—gets way better fan mail every week. Pictures, drawings, mostly nudes. And I get your whining about rent and cockroaches?
Look, I may be locked up, but I’m giving you some advice here. Don’t fuck your landlord. You’ve got one eye? Good—use it. Hell, that’s already intimidating enough. Threaten the prick to call pest control, or better yet, trap those damn cockroaches and give him a taste. Stuff a few down his throat if he still doesn’t take you seriously. People respect action, not whining.
Speaking of. One eye? Really? Now, how’d it happen? Was it torn out? Still got some sight in it, or is it just gone? That’s gangster. Hot, even. I’d fuck a one-eyed chick. Maybe when I’m out we can cross that off my bucket list. Nah, I’m just playing with you.
Or maybe I’m not.
Think on it.
Hate (in a friendly way),
Sukuna.
P.S. Yeah, I took out some satanist scum who tried kidnapping one of my people’s kids. But don’t go thinking I’m in with those freaks. I’m just the Devil they wish they could be.
“Woah,” you breathed out, hugging the letter to your chest. This was it. This was what you were waiting for. A pull towards something real, something thrilling. It’s all you’ve been craving for eons now. 
“Whatcha got there, sweetie?” The voice snapped you back, harsh as nails against glass. Your landlord had wandered out of his door on the first floor, wrapped in a faded bathrobe and gripping his mug like some king holding court. “Made a mess on my floor with your papers.”
“Sorry,” you muttered, quickly tucking Sukuna’s letter back into its envelope and reaching down to gather the stray papers scattered on the floor. When you straightened, he was already in your space, close enough that the coffee on his breath made you flinch.
“Excuse me—”
“You’re excused.” His smirk widened as he leaned in, his nose grazing your neck. The greasy warmth of his breath made bile rise to the back of your throat. “Just wanna take a little bite out of you.”
Sukuna’s advice echoed in your mind. You’d never—never—think of following through with his revolting insinuation. But letting this sleaze get away with treating you like this? No. Not anymore.
“Step away,” you commanded, your voice low but unyielding. “Now.”
He blinked, then chuckled, dismissive. “Feisty today, huh? Got a letter from your boyfriend in prison, sweetie?” How did he know that? Fuck. Did he go through your mail before it was deposited? “Let me guess—you think he’s got your back now?” He leaned even closer, the stench of his laugh wafting in the air. “Come on, where's that one eye of yours aiming, sweetheart?”
“Next person who mentions my eye eats the dirt,” you snapped, every ounce of your resolve boiling up. “And as for what I’ve got—it’s something way out of your league, old geezer. So get the hell back to your apartment, and call pest control now.” 
For a second, he was stunned, face going pale as your words sank in. But you could feel Sukuna’s thrill, his twisted approval in the back of your mind. You’d tapped into something that wouldn’t settle. But then, “Well, I’ll be damned. Someone put on their big girl panties.” 
Your jaw tightened as you held your ground, taking steady breaths. You’d rehearsed this moment in your head, picturing a confrontation that ended with him backing down. But things never went as planned with him.
“I’m not here to beg,” you said evenly. “But I’m not gonna let you walk all over me, either. I pay rent. It’s your responsibility to keep this place livable.”
He snorted, raising his coffee mug and giving you a once-over that made your skin crawl. 
“Not for free, sweetheart. You’ve gotta give me something worth my time.” His eyes travelled down your body. 
Your pulse throbbed in your ears, but you squared your shoulders. “I’m already paying rent. It’s your right to ensure your tenant's safety.”
His face darkened, lips curling into a bitter smile. “Not when that tenant’s acting like a spoiled little bitch.” And then, with a flick of his wrist, he launched the mug’s contents right at you.
You dodged, but a few hot droplets scorched your arm, leaving a raw sting that only fueled your anger. He laughed, shaking his head with a mocking scowl. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I kick you out on the streets.”
You didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You turned on your heel, heading back upstairs with quick steps, forcing the tears back until you could lock the door behind you. Once inside, you slumped to the floor, breathing hard. The letter from Sukuna crackled beneath your hands, and you clutched it close to your chest, feeling the heat of humiliation turn into something fiercer, darker. 
“Damn it,” you whispered to yourself, pushing back to your feet with renewed energy. You marched to your desk, grabbed your notebook and pen, and let the words pour out, hurried and jagged. If anyone would understand this kind of anger, it was him—the one man whose entire life was carved from rage.
And this time, you wouldn’t hold anything back.
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“Letter for you, Ryomen.”
Sukuna dropped down from his top bunk, snatching the letter right out of the guard’s hand.
“From your girl?” Toji asked from across the table, flipping a card, halfway to beating Sukuna in Blackjack.
“Not my girl,” Sukuna grunted, tearing into the envelope. But still, he smirked as he unfolded your letter.
Hey, Sukuna. 
Fuck my landlord to hell and back. I need you to know I’d kill him if I could get away with it. I’m trying to keep this “ethical” so they don’t cut off my letters, but let’s just, I hate the elderly. They should be rotting in retirement houses instead of owning properties and doing a shit job running them. That senile asshole threw hot coffee at me this morning. Burning. I nearly shattered the damn mug over his skull.
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his fingers squeezing the letter hard enough to crumple the edges.
And now he’s saying he’ll kick me out, as if I have anything to pay him with. This place is a dump, anyway. I might hit up one of those shelters for women, maybe hop from couch to couch for a bit. My job at corner store’s giving me scraps; it’s not nearly enough to get by. So yeah, you could say I’m screwed.
And to answer your question about my eye—yeah, I’m blind in it. Got it from a real piece of work I used to call a boyfriend. He decided my face was fair game, and thought I could just live with it. But he's dead now. Overdosed last I heard from his brother. Good riddance, am I right?
Oh, and for that kink of yours you mentioned—sending my picture along with a little extra treat. 
Hate (because I’m about to go crazy here), Y/N
P.S. For all the things you’ve done, I can’t lie—the world you talk about sounds safer than this one. Well, except for you committing the most heinous crimes. 
Toji clicked his tongue. “Look at that dumbass grin on your face.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna muttered, flipping the letter over—and there it was: a stick drawing of a woman lying on a bed, two messy circles for her chest, legs spread wide, and what looked like . . . well, he didn’t need to guess. Sukuna went from grinning to outright laughing. “She’s hilarious.”
“Not just that. She’s sexy as fuck,” Toji said, holding up a photo, ripped clean in half.
Sukuna’s eyes flashed. He swiped the photo and pieced it back together, cursing himself for tearing through the envelope like a brute. But as the two halves reconnected, he felt his pulse kick up, hard.
“Well, shit.” You were more than just beautiful. The way your hair fell, the curves of your body wrapped in that short black dress, standing under a streetlamp with the city lights glinting around you . . . But it was the smile—the easy, teasing grin—that really did it for him. “I’m definitely jerking off tonight.” Respectfully, of course.
“Can we get back to the game now, or—”
“Fuck the game. I’ve got a letter to write.” And a plan brewing to get you out of that dump and right where he wanted you.
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Your landlord was pronounced dead. 
An ambulance had arrived early in the morning, around nine, waking up every tenant. You were one of them, groggy from your sleep, and all the crying you’d done from realising how high rent was these days.
Apparently, he had a heart-attack, said one of the residents. 
He was eighty, said another. 
You stuck to the back of the crowd as his body was wheeled out on the stretcher. How could he have died just five days after you sent your last letter to Sukuna? It couldn’t have been him, could it? Maybe one of his associates? Given the man’s extensive criminal history, you suspected he had some serious connections.
As the crowd began to disperse a few minutes later, you joined them but didn’t head upstairs. Instead, you made your way to the mailroom.
And luckily, Sukuna’s letter was present. 
All he wrote was: 
You’re welcome. 
Neutral, 
Sukuna. 
You broke out laughing, or crying. Whatever it was, it felt good. So good. 
Hey, Sukuna!
These days, I’m feeling calm. Really calm. I’m sleeping well, eating better, even starting to enjoy work. Sometimes, I’m scared it’ll all get snatched away. By who? I don’t know. Life’s been that way, though. I’ve lost so much—my parents, my friends, even my left eyesight. At one point, I lost my will to keep going. But I guess some part of me held on, believing a better day would come.
Turns out, those days are here. Who would’ve thought a felon could make me feel less alone? I know it sounds crazy, but my life’s been full of surprises lately.
If you think you can’t bring happiness to someone, I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. I’m genuinely happy, and it’s thanks to you. I already think of you as a friend—and I hope you think of me the same way. You don’t get a choice in that, by the way.
Love (genuinely), Y/N
P.S. I’d like to come visit you sometime soon.
Sukuna lowered the letter, his eyes settling on the wall where he’d pinned up your picture. “Toji?” he called out, still staring at the photo.
Toji paused mid-pushup, raising an eyebrow. “What, bitch?”
Sukuna let out a low laugh, barely shaking his head as he spoke. “I think I’m in love.”
Hello, Y/N.
When I’m out in fifty years, I’ll give you a real surprise. And don’t write me any more of that sentimental crap, alright? Save it for when you visit. I’d rather hear it in person.
Hate (but maybe not so much), Sukuna
P.S. You’re beautiful.
You pressed the letter to your chest, biting your lip as warmth spread across your cheeks, your face aching from how much you were smiling. It was official—you were falling for Sukuna Ryomen. You’d have to look your absolute best for your visit. Just the thought of seeing him, hearing his voice, maybe even feeling his hand brush yours, made your heart race. You’d kiss him if they’d let you. And if they didn’t? What could the guards do? Throw you in jail? Now that would be ironic.
But fifty years . . . Would you really wait fifty years for Sukuna to be released? How high was his bail, anyway, that even his hidden cash stash wasn’t enough to cover it? He had to have some kind of pull with the right people, didn’t he?
With a sigh, you grabbed a piece of paper and began to write your reply.
Sukuna,
Fifty years is a lifetime, don’t you think?
Love, Y/N
Sukuna read the short note you’d sent, surprised by how much you’d poured into just a few lines. He noticed small, faded dots on the paper—tears, unmistakably yours. You’d been crying, and it didn’t sit right with him. His stomach tightened, but thankfully, he’d already secured your visit through Uraume, who handled it while Gojo was away.
Now, all that was left was seeing you.
He wondered how he’d keep his hands to himself after all the nights he’d spent memorising your picture, losing himself in thoughts of you. Every night before sleep, every morning when he woke, every time Toji was out cold and couldn’t hear Sukuna’s barely-stifled groans as he imagined you were there. God, he wanted to steal you away. 
The day of your visit finally came. Sukuna was led to the visitor room, wrists cuffed, flanked by two guards. He hadn’t set foot in this room since a couple of his associates had visited months back with updates on the family business and Yuji’s latest fiascos. They’d kept everything running despite his brother’s mess-ups, and Sukuna owed them.
He glanced down at his hands. Fifty years. He’d been scheming for a way out since he first set foot in here, but now, with you in the picture, the urge to escape was relentless. Bail was twenty million. Even if he could scrounge it up, he doubted he could get it done without tipping off the wrong people. No, his only real option was breaking out.
“Sukuna.”
A soft voice pulled his head up slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time his name was spoken with such warmth. 
“Y/N.”
He shot up from his seat, his eyes flicking to the guards stationed in the corner before letting himself drink you in. You looked stunning—a soft sundress, hair delicately curled, makeup enhancing every curve and angle of your face. His gaze lingered on your eyes, marvelling at the contrast: one foggy, hazy, while the other was bright and striking. A smirk pulled at his mouth, but he softened it for you. 
“Hey,” he whispered, the one word holding more emotion than he’d ever admit, especially with witnesses around.
“Hi,” you whispered back, eyes lowering down his muscled body, the pattern tattoos like rings around his wrist and with the first three buttons of his jumpsuit unbuttoned, you found the top of the rings on his pecs as well. His light-pink hair was brushed down, the tendrils poking his reddish-brown eyes. A peculiar colour. “Hi.”
He smiled. “You already said that, baby.” 
Baby. Gosh, you were even more nervous now. 
“They said I can’t shake your hand.” You looked at the cuffs on his wrists and tossed a glare at the guards. “Or hands.” 
“Fuck them.” Sukuna sat down and you followed. “You’re stunning.” 
You blushed. “Thank you.” 
“Not gonna compliment me back?” His deep voice was cocky, smug. You loved it. 
“You’re handsome and you know it.” 
“I sure do.” 
You chuckled and Sukuna watched you with a soft expression. “Thanks for . . . you know.” 
He understood the words you mouthed and smiled. “A little Ricin never hurt anyone.”
“How did you pull it off?”
His eyebrow arched in surprise. “Just because I’m stuck in this hellhole doesn’t mean I’ve lost everyone’s respect out there. Blood is thicker than water in my clan—except when it comes to my nephew. I just want to drain it out of him.”
Your own smile faltered. “Well . . . I’d like to have coffee with you. But fifty years, Sukuna, is too long.” 
He sighed. “I know.” 
“Isn’t there any way to get you out?” 
Sukuna saw the longing on your face and wanted nothing more than to hold it in his hands and stare at you for hours. He just couldn’t believe you were real. He would’ve killed you if you were cat-fishing him. “I really want to touch you,” he whispered instead. He did. He really fucking did. 
You pinched your lips in a smile. “Me, too.” 
Sukuna placed his hands on the table and grabbed both of yours. They were so soft and small. He wanted to kiss each finger. Knuckle. Vein.
“Hands off, Ryomen,” the guard warned. He didn’t relent, and simply winked at you. “I said hands off.” 
“Fuck you,” Sukuna spat back. 
“Visit’s over.” The pair of guards pried Sukuna away, making you reach out for him with a protest. 
“I’ll see you this weekend.” Sukuna winked and let the guards drag him away. 
You sat stunned before the officers escorted you out of the visiting room and apologised on his behalf. 
When the weekend finally rolled around, you found yourself standing at the prison gates once more, entering alongside a pair of guards.
Waiting by the visitor room was a towering figure with straight silver hair and striking blue-eyes. You got a closer look at the badge—Satoru Gojo. You’ve read the name in one of Sukuna’s letters complaining about him.
“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise,” he greeted, waving away the guards and pressing a hand on your back, leading you down the opposite direction. 
“We can chat another time, officer. I’ve got to meet Suku—”
“He can wait. Prison teaches a man patience. He’s got fifty more years left. Plenty to visit then.” Gojo opened the door and guided you inside. The shutting made your shoulders flinch. The lock clicking had dread pooling in your stomach. “Sit. Would you like anything to drink?” 
You eyed the dark setting bathed in a golden light from a corner lamp. There was a cart with a decanter set and a mini-fridge to the right. A bookshelf and a wardrobe on the left. “I’m fine, thank you.” 
Gojo shrugged and poured himself whiskey before taking his seat behind his table. You sat opposite him. “So, what’s your relationship with my favourite prisoner?” 
You blinked. “Uh, we’re just pen-pals.” 
“Lying to a police officer is a serious offence.” 
“I’m telling the truth,” you said. “We’re strictly pen-pals.” 
“I’ve read your letters to know that isn’t true, Princess. So unless you want to sit there and lie to my fucking face, I suggest you start using that mouth for good and tell me the goddamn truth.” He slammed his glass down, but his face remained smiling with false politeness. 
You felt suffocated in the office, eyes darting left and right for anything sharp in case he tried some other method to get you to talk. 
“I’ve been in this field for a decade now to know when someone is hiding something from me,” Gojo continued, taking a leisure sip from his drink. “I have a file on you, Y/N. You’re an only child, with no proper education or a stable job. You’re one bad decision away from being trafficked. You’re submissive, a follower, who if went missing, no one would look for.” Tears welled your eyes at his words. “And I know that bastard’s the reason you’re still living in that dump you call home.” 
That was the last nail in the coffin. 
“I’ve been following you since your first letter,” he said quietly. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to? Oh, Princess, you couldn’t be any more wrong.” He stood up and rounded his way to you. 
You quickly scrambled out of your seat. “Please. I don’t know anything. I—I don’t—Sukuna’s a friend, yes, but I’m not involved in any of his criminal activities.” 
“Friend?” Gojo spat out. “That man is the last person you’d ever want as your friend.” He stalked forward and you retracted. “He’s committed more crimes in his lifetime than any other man. He’s killed half the people in this country, extorted money from politicians, burned down houses for fun, and killed my father!” He grabbed the collars of your dress and slammed you back into his wardrobe door. A cry ripped from your throat. “And you, a nobody, has the audacity to call that fucker a friend? Sweetheart, you’re just a ploy, a pawn, a time-pass for him. A hole to warm his cock in.” A sardonic chuckle. “That’ll never happen since he isn’t getting out anytime soon. But, hey, maybe I can prepare you for him.” 
Your breath quickened, a whimper slipping past your lips. “How does that make you any better than him?” 
Gojo smiled and brushed his lips over your ears. “Because I have the power to get away with it.” 
Your eyes, frightened and flickering, dragged up to his blue-ones. 
In the blink of an eye, you slapped him across the face, taking him by complete surprise and broke free from his hands. He leaped towards you as you unlocked the door and ran out and down the hall, shouting for help. 
A pair of officers turned the corner. 
“Help, please!” You fell into the arms of one of them. “Please, he’s going to hurt me!” 
“Who?” one asked with concern. 
“Satoru Gojo!” 
They exchanged a look and briskly turned away, leaving you standing. Their spines straightened as Gojo walked down the hallway, flattening a hand down his chest. The duo saluted him and walked away with their heads down. 
Your heart sank. 
You had no power here. 
“I told you, Princess,” Gojo purred, prowling towards you, “this is my domain.” 
You cried out and ran towards the visitor’s room. The door knob was locked and could only be opened with a keycard. “Help!” You slammed your palms on the surface. “Please, someone! Help—ah!” 
Gojo gripped the back of your hair and pulled you from the door. “Perfect timing, actually. I’d like to see the look on Ryomen’s face before I split his woman on my cock.” He swiped the card and opened the door, pushing you inside but controlling you with the grip he had on your head. 
Sukuna was already standing and enraged, held back by two guards who struggled. He must’ve heard your helpless cries. You wish he didn’t have to. “Let her go, Gojo!” 
“Oh, I will,” said Gojo, “as soon as I’m done with her.” 
Sukuna growled, thrashing against his restraints. “You fucking prick, I’m gonna tear you in half you if you touch her!” 
“Like this?” Gojo squeezed your left breast and laughed. 
Sukuna elbowed one of the guards in his nose, momentarily seeking freedom to hit the other. Hope blossomed in your chest as he fought them off and made his way towards you. 
Gojo chuckled and pulled out his gun, shooting Sukuna in the leg. You jumped with a scream as he fell to the floor, clutching his thigh. “All this chaos for a common whore,” he muttered. “Come on, Princess. Let’s put you to good use.” 
“No, please!” You shouted as he dragged you away. “Sukuna, no! Sukuna!” 
“Y/N.” Sukuna reached his arm out, his hand curling into a fist and falling defeatedly onto the floor. “Don’t hurt her, please.” His face was squeezed in pain, as the guards kept him pinned to the floor. “Please! Don’t fucking hurt her—” 
The door closed shut, and the last sight before your eyes was Sukuna crying. 
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Sukuna hadn’t heard from you in over a month. 
He’d also spend the month in the infirmary after Uraume did an extensive surgery on his leg. It hadn’t hit a vital artery. He believed Satoru’s aim was calculated to keep him alive. To continue letting him suffer. 
Sukuna also went quiet. He hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone except murmuring to himself. He read back on your letters, slept with the papers under his pillow, if he slept at all. 
Every morning, afternoon, night, in and out of his dry sleep, he was plotting a way to get out of this hell and find you. Would you even want to see him? Would you even care? Were you even alive? He’d dragged you into his mess, put you in danger, and fell into Satoru’s disgusting trap. 
“You need to eat something, Sukuna,” Uraume advised as they have been since his injury. They placed the tray in front of him. “At least eat the yogurt.” 
Were you eating? Were you still living in his house? Were you alive? That question rang in his head again. 
“For fucks sake.” Uraume brought forth a stool and sat next to his bed, staring at the side of his face. “What the hell do you want to do?” 
He wanted to kill Satoru first. Then escape with Toji since he was the only bastard he trusted in this place. Then find you and run away from the law as far as possible. It was a simple plan that required efficiency. 
“Are you gonna talk—” 
Sukuna shoved the tray aside, the food falling onto the floor. He was irritated by the questions outside and inside of his head. “I need to find her,” he mumbled to himself. “I need to know if she’s alive.” Please, baby, please be alive. 
“Everything all right in here, doc?” One of the guards stationed outside the door asked with his head peering through the door. 
Sukuna stared at him, then went back to Uraume. They met his eyes with their blank stare. They scanned down his body, to his injured leg, then back to his head. 
A sigh left them. “No,” they replied. “Do you mind helping me clean up the mess?” 
Sukuna gritted his jaw as the guard walked in, closing the door and crouching down, grumbling curses at Sukuna. Uraume stood from their stool and made their way to the cabinet, pulling out a syringe and a small vial. 
Sukuna's eyes lightened, spine straightening. A smile curved at his lip as they flicked the droplets from the tip of the injection and walked over, making small-talk about the weather. 
Suddenly, Uraume jabbed the needle into the officer’s neck and pushed down the plunger. He fell to his side, clutching his neck and staring up at them as they shrugged. Sukuna watched with pure delight as his body began to convulse, foam gathering at this mouth and dripping from the side. 
Then he stopped. 
“He’s dead,” Uraume said before Sukuna could ask. “Works the night shift so you won’t have a problem running into anyone else. Change into his clothes. I’ll drive.” They walked away to grab a face mask. 
“Why?” asked Sukuna. 
Uraume sighed, head dropping. “Because I fucking hate it here.” 
Sukuna was definitely going to hire them once he killed his Gojo, and his nephew. 
He quickly changed into the officer’s clothes, giving him a hard kick in the stomach that had Uraume rolling their eyes. 
Sukuna followed behind as they led the way. “Let’s take Toji.”
“Why?” they asked. “That’s a hassle.” 
“Just feel bad.” 
“And when did you start feeling guilt?” Uraume easily slipped past the security gate, waving to the officer who was busy on his phone. 
“I don’t know,” he said, smiling because he knew. Sure, you’d only touched him once, but your letters were what truly began to change him. Just the other day, he’d lost a round of blackjack, stacking his debt to Toji by a million, and instead of knocking the guy out cold, Sukuna shook hands and called it a ‘good game.’ “On second thought, let’s leave him here for the time being.” Until he got his money in check. 
Once they settled into Uraume’s car, Sukuna quickly discarded the officer's cap, tie, and badges. Uraume entered your address from the letters, and they drove in silence for the next thirty minutes.
When they arrived, the building matched your description: shitty.
Uraume stopped Sukuna before he could leap out of the car. They scanned the street for any signs of police presence. “Go. I’ll wait here.” 
Sukuna nodded and dashed out of the car, walking inside the apartment. There was no buzzer system, which meant anyone could stroll in, armed and dangerous. This was a problem. He needed to get you out of here and into one of his safe houses—a hidden place even his bastard nephew didn’t know about.
He hurried up the emergency stairwell to the tenth floor, slightly winded by the time he reached door 1090.
This was it.
With his hands gripping the edges of the door, he hunched forward, heart racing. Please, be alive.
Finally, he knocked.
He chewed the shit out of his bottom lip, hissing impatiently through his teeth. “Come on, Y/N.” He knocked again, his impatience boiling over. “It’s me, Sukuna! Please, open the door.” He pounded harder, fear creeping in with each passing second. The Sukuna Ryomen was . . . scared. “Goddammit!”
“Sukuna . . .?” 
He halted mid-breakdown and turned slowly, his heart dropping at the sight of you standing there with two bags of groceries. You looked so fragile, your complexion pale, and the radiance he remembered from your visit had completely vanished.
The grocery bags slipped from your hands and fell to the ground.
In an instant, you both rushed toward each other, and he lifted you off the ground effortlessly. You wrapped your arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably as he buried his hand in the back of your hair, inhaling the comforting scent of your body wash.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “It’s okay, I’m here.” His eyes were directed straight ahead, and he was shaking. Terribly. “I’m here, sweetheart.” 
You pulled back, cradling his face in your small hands. Gently, you brushed aside his dark, mink-like hair, tracing the tattoos on his skin with your fingertips. “You’re alive,” you whispered, overwhelmed by relief. You couldn’t help but touch him, and he simply smiled, allowing you the closeness. “God, you’re alive. Sukuna—you’re really alive. How?”
“Of course, I am. I just needed to know you were alive,” he replied, his hands enveloping your cheeks. “Where did you go? Why did you stop writing to me?”
Your face went blank. “What do you mean?”  
“Your letters. You stopped writing to me.” 
“They . . .” Your voice cracked. “They told me you were sentenced to death.” 
He was taken back. “What the fuck?”  
Realisation dawned upon you. The second time you visited Sukuna, Satoru had literally dragged you out of the station, kicking you out the doors. He’d threatened to take you to his office next time, but since he had a meeting with officials that day, he’d reluctantly let you go. That didn’t stop you from sending countless letters, pouring your heart out until, two weeks later, you finally received a notification from the police station. Sukuna had been sentenced to death by lethal injection and was no longer alive. You’d cried for days on end. You imagined he had been cremated and reduced to ashes, stored away somewhere. The thought shattered you. For an entire month, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your house.
Until tonight. 
And he was here. Sukuna was here. He was alive. 
“Y/N,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing the area below your sightless eye. “Let’s head inside, alright?”
You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his wrist. He held your hand tightly while using his other arm to carry your grocery bags. Once you reached your apartment, you opened the door and locked it securely. The deadbolt you had installed was a precaution against Satoru, just in case he showed up.
“I’m so happy you’re al—” 
Sukuna kissed you before the words could leave your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning from the taste of his lips, the taste you’d been craving for months now. He didn’t allow you to breathe, didn’t pull away. You both stood there in the alcove, kissing for minutes, clinging to each other. He cupped the back of your head and drew apart from your lips, peppering kisses over your face, especially your foggy eye. 
“I don’t want to fuck you, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “I want to make love to you. For hours.” Your grip tightened in his shirt. “Then I need you to pack everything in a bag and run away with me.” 
“Run away?” You searched his dark-reddish eyes. “Run away where?”
His knuckles grazed your wet cheek. “Somewhere not even God can find us.”
You swallowed hard. “They’ll send out a manhunt, Sukuna. What if we get caught? What if they take you—”
He cut you off with a kiss. “No one is going to take me away from you. Do you get that?” His strong fingers moved through your hair. “I’d turn this world to dust before that happens.”
Your insides melted from the threat. “Take me,” you murmured over his lips. He kissed you. “Take me everywhere, anywhere, wherever, as long as it’s with you.” 
Sukuna lifted you effortlessly, carrying you like a bride as he kicked open your bedroom door. He set you down on the bed, then began stripping off his clothes, revealing the geometric tattoos that marked his thighs and torso. You were caught off guard by how quickly he moved, fumbling to take off your sweater and jeans. By the time you looked back at him, he was already naked, and your gaze dropped to what you could only describe as a gloriously, long erection. 
“Woah,” you whispered, feeling your mouth go dry. “You’re abnormally big.” 
“You can take it.” He leaned over you, tearing your panties without a second thought. Before you could protest about them being your favorite pair, he spread your legs and went down on you. “Oh, my god—Sukuna—wait—”
“Waited too long,” he growled, his mouth finding your clit as he buried his nose between your wet folds. He nipped, licked, and bit, his tongue plunging deep into you, creating messy sounds that filled the air. You couldn't form words or catch your breath, gripping the roots of his hair tightly.
When you came like a flood, Sukuna lifted your hips, making sure not a single drop of you was lost to the sheets. He let out loud, deep moans as he sloppily lapped at your sensitive cunt.
He wiped his glistening mouth with his fingers and then pressed them against your lips. You eagerly sucked on his warm, thick digits, noting the lustrous glint in his eyes. He pulled his fingers out abruptly. “Suck my cock.” 
Suck his what? 
You looked down and saw him leaking at the tip. You clenched your legs, unsure. He wanted you to take that into your mouth?
You licked your lips, managing to kneel while he stood before you. He took hold of himself, rubbing the tip against your lips. You instinctively flicked your tongue out to taste him, causing him to flinch. “Sorry—”
“Don’t apologize.” He seemed to enjoy it. “Just take it in your mouth.”
You nodded, wrapping your fingers around his hot, veiny length. You opened your jaw as wide as you could and slowly took him in. His head fell back, and he engulfed your face with his palms. Your performance was mediocre, and yet he was entertained.
His tip pressed against the back of your throat, making you pull back to cough. He laughed softly, brushing your cheek with his hand.
“Come on, baby. You need to get used to it.”
“I’ve never done this before,” you replied, your voice shaky as you reached for him again.
“Stick your tongue out.”
You took a deep breath and extended your tongue. He rested the head of his cock on it and started to move his hips slowly.
Slowly, you took him in, feeling his satisfaction as he gently rocked his hips back and forth. He tasted warm and a little salty, and you found your hand wandering between your legs, seeking some relief.
“I’m going to pick up the pace, alright, baby?”
You nodded in response.
“Don’t be embarrassed if you choke,” he said, hooking a stray lock behind your ear. “It’ll just make me come faster.”
With that, he thrust deeper, and you gripped his hips tightly, struggling to catch your breath. He noticed and pulled back slightly to give you a moment, but it was brief before he pushed back in again. “You’re taking me so well, baby. Fuck.” His movements became more feverish, and you felt the pressure building as you choked and gagged, saliva escaping at the corners of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come down your throat.” 
You tapped his leg, shaking your head.
“No?” He smirked. “You don’t want me to come down your throat?”
You shook your head again and pointed between your legs.
In an instant, Sukuna pulled out. He flipped you onto your chest, lifting your ass up in the air. Without a second thought, he thrust himself deep inside you, and you cried out his name into the pillow.
He felt so full, so thick, pushing into you with a force that made your breath hitch. It was everything you needed—so good, so fucking good. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned. He filled you completely, driving into you with a fast rhythm that left you moaning, completely lost in the pleasure.
Your nails clawed at the sheets as his thick tip pressed against your womb, punctuated by the stinging slaps of his hands against your ass. He showered you with a blend of sweet and dirty words—“good fucking girl,” “cock slut,” “so perfect and tight,” “little whore”—and you pushed back, needing him deeper and deeper.
Sukuna released a torrent of warm cum inside you, still driving his hips against you, holding you securely by the waist. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through you, and he pulled out, flipping you onto your back. He bent your knees, driving himself back inside without hesitation. How was he still so hard?
Your hands cupped his flushed, beautiful face, a lazy smile stretching across both your lips. Sukuna leaned in, kissing you deeply before trailing his lips down to your neck while his hand found its way to your breast. “I’m not on birth control anymore, you know?”
“Good.” He pulled back to meet your gaze. “And don’t even think about getting back on it.”
“But we can’t afford the risk, Suku—”
“I love you,” he said, his grip firm on your jaw. Everything inside you exploded. “I love you, baby. I love you so fucking much that I’ll take every fucking risk.”
You moaned softly as he came again, your trembling fingers brushing against his lips. “I love you, too.” He kissed your fingertips, a promise in every touch. “I’ll take every risk with you.”
“Fuck yeah you will.” He didn’t pull out, his eyes locked on yours. “Starting with putting a baby in you.”
You happily accepted your fate.
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Sukuna pulled the trigger, shooting another police officer in the back of his head. The sound of the gunfire mixed with the blaring sirens, echoing through the flickering lights of the corridors—a devious melody composed just for him. He chuckled low, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a grin as another officer lunged out, attempting to stop him—pathetic. A single shot rang out, and the man crumpled like paper.
The path to Satoru’s office was a long one, and the bodies he left sprawled out in his wake were only a brief distraction from the task at hand. He had things to do today, after all.
Another officer stumbled into view, eyes wide, panic evident. He didn’t stand a chance. Sukuna barely glanced at him as he fired, stepping over the man as he slumped against the wall. Blood splattered his shoes, but it was hardly the worst stain on his day.
You were going to be pissed. He could practically hear the biting tone, the disappointed scowl that’d meet him the moment he finally made it to Mai’s first birthday party. Sukuna scoffed as he shot a bullet straight through a door that dared open near him, knocking down yet another obstacle.
But this was necessary. He needed to do this.
Free Toji. Kill Gojo. And then, eventually, deal with his meddling nephew. Everything would finally align, and maybe—just maybe—he could stop all this. For you. For your daughter.  
Satoru’s office was close now. He could smell the antiseptic scent of the door, the false air of authority that seemed to reek from it. He cocked his gun, steeling himself. Because when he was done here—when he’d finally finished what he’d started—he’d make it up to you.
Or so he told himself, as another officer charged and met the floor with a hole in his skull.
Sukuna didn’t bother with the doorknob. He slammed his boot into the door, sending it splintering inward with a loud crack. The office was stripped bare; Satoru’s usual pile of clutter, the irritating stench of his cologne—gone. Only the dust of where things once sat remained on the shelves and desk.
The bastard had fled.
Sukuna’s jaw clenched as he surveyed the room. Gojo knew he was coming and had bolted like a coward hours ago. He pulled his lighter from his pocket, flipping it open with a flick of his thumb, the small flame dancing aglow. Without a second thought, he stepped to the heavy, pretentious curtains Gojo insisted on, pressing the flame to the thick fabric. It caught quickly, embers licking up and curling black around the edges as the fire took hold, consuming Satoru’s last pathetic hold on this place.
He turned and walked out, ignoring the smoke that was already billowing into the hall. The prison alarm was still blaring, red lights flashing down the cold corridors as he made his way to the cells. Every so often, he’d pause, assessing the prisoner cowering behind bars. Rapists, pedophiles, molesters, abusers, killers of innocent lives—he moved on from them. But when he found those who didn’t quite repulse him, he took a single shot at their lock, releasing them in a stream of confused, wary freedom.
As he approached the far end of the corridor, a familiar sight greeted him—his old cell. And standing behind those hard, metal bars, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, was Toji.
“Didn’t think you’d come back to this hellhole,” Toji remarked. 
“Not for long,” Sukuna replied, levelling his gun at the lock. He fired once, the lock shattering as the cell door swung open. 
Toji stepped out of his cell, took one look around, then paused. “Hold up.”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, watching as the man crouched beside a loose brick in the wall. With a wry smile, he pulled out an old, scratched-up plastic bottle with a wriggling, sickly-looking worm inside. He tapped the side of the bottle, making the creature twist and writhe. “Almost forgot my little friend here.”
Sukuna barked a short laugh. “You’re out of your damn mind.”
Alarms blared louder as they navigated the winding corridors and ran past prisoners surging toward freedom. Some guards tried to block the path, but they were quickly swept aside by Sukuna’s bullets and Toji’s fists. By the time they hit the outer gates, the entire prison was pandemonium, prisoners scattering into the open like ants from a burning nest.
Outside, a sleek, black car idled just past the gate. Uraume sat coolly behind the wheel, watching the stampede of convicts with bored detachment. As they approached, Uraume rolled down the window, glancing at them with their nose slightly crinkled.
“I could smell you two from a mile away,” they said dryly, eyes flicking to the stains of blood on their clothes. “Maybe next time, schedule a prison massacre that doesn’t fall on your daughter’s birthday?”
“Just drive,” Sukuna replied, sliding into the backseat with Toji following. Toji glanced at Uraume with a quick nod, still keeping a light hold on his bottle, the worm twisting inside.
“Welcome back to the real world, Fushiguro,” they said, starting the car as they drove off into the night.
The road stretched long and dark, winding into the depths of a thick forest. The further they drove, the thicker the trees became, their branches curving overhead to cast everything in shadows. The road narrowed into a rugged trail, overgrown and wild. Uraume navigated it deftly, until at last, the forest opened up, and they could see the soft glimmer of moonlight on the water beyond.
Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean stood their safe house—a dark brick estate against the endless stretch of water. Waves crashed against the rocks far below, the scent of salt and sea heavy in the air.
Sukuna looked at the house, then at Toji’s surprised face.
“This is where you’ve been hiding for the two years?” he asked as soon as they were out of the car. 
“Not for long if I fuck this up.” Sukuna slipped in through the garage, keeping his steps light. He had just one goal at this moment: reach the shower before you spotted the blood streaked on his clothes and the smell of gunpowder clinging to him. 
But as he shut the door, there you were, arms crossed, eyes sharp as they landed on him.
“Sukuna,” you started, an edge in your tone that he recognized all too well. “Do you have any idea what day it is? Look at you; you're a mess!” You gestured at the dark stains on his shirt and his unmistakable smirk.
Instead of trying to dodge the lecture, he listened, that faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched you, soaking in each scolding word. You were the one person who never held back with him, and it made something dangerous in him soften, something in him settle. “I know, baby,” he replied, pecking your cheek. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Barely,” you replied, sighing, though you couldn’t quite hide the relief in your voice. You glanced over his shoulder. “Toji, Uraume—it’s good to see you both.”
Uraume gave a slight bow, a wry smile still tugging at their lips, while Toji just gave you a quick nod.
You waved a hand, turning back to the kitchen. “Both of you boys—shower, now. I won’t have the two of you smelling like a prison while I’m trying to decorate my daughter’s cake. Go on!”
Toji gave Sukuna a knowing look and shrugged, as if to say, She’s right. Sukuna shot him a warning look, then followed up the stairs, chuckling under his breath as he imagined how you’d cornered him like this. 
Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out of the shower, cleaned up, feeling far lighter as he tugged on a fresh shirt and came downstairs, catching the scent of the dinner you’d prepared. 
He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile that melted your anger as he pulled you close.
“Gojo got away,” he murmured. “He knew I was coming, and he ran like the coward he is. But I’ll find him. And I’ll make him pay for what he did to you. I swear it.”
You paused, looking up into his eyes, your hand settling on his cheek. “I know you will, Sukuna. But don’t miss the important things here. We’re what’s important now, not just revenge.”
The words took root in him, grounding him, but that flicker of rage still danced in his eyes. He pulled you close, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ll never let him touch us again. I promise you that.” 
Just as you leaned in for another kiss, Sukuna heard the faint sound of your daughter stirring awake from her nap on the living room floor. Mai’s soft little whimpers broke the room’s quiet. Instinctively, he abandoned your kiss, his attention snapping to her as he practically floated over to where she was squirming in her pink dress, rubbing her tiny fists over her eyes.
“There’s my girl,” he murmured, scooping her up with all the gentleness he could muster. Her sleepy eyes blinked open, and he was rewarded with that toothy little grin she’d recently mastered, one that brought an uncharacteristic softness to his entire face. He pressed a cascade of kisses on her cheeks, nose, forehead—anywhere he could reach. “Look at you, sweetheart. All dressed up for your birthday, huh? The prettiest girl in the world.”
You laughed softly from the kitchen, watching as Sukuna held her close, stepping into an impromptu waltz around the living room, his steps surprisingly skilled. She squealed in delight, her small hands reaching up to his face as he spun her around. Even Toji, who had just come down from the shower, stopped in his tracks at the sight, a rare, amused smile tugging at his mouth.
Sukuna glanced up, catching Toji’s presence, and with a proud smirk said, “Toji, meet my daughter, Mai. She’s already got more spirit than most of the people you and I have met.”
Toji stepped forward, studying your daughter. He reached out a hand, and she looked at him with wide eyes, inspecting him with her natural, innocent curiosity. “She looks like trouble. Must take after her old man.” 
“Her mother, mostly,” Sukuna said in your direction, bouncing her lightly. “She’s going to have a whole world to handle, with us around.”
In the background, Uraume was setting the table, their usual precision in each movement. They threw Sukuna a blank look, brushing off their hands. “Now that the table’s set, if you’d all just take your seats, maybe we can have a peaceful birthday dinner without the talk of blood and violence for once.”
Sukuna chuckled, shooting them a dry look before turning back to his daughter. Holding Mai close, he took a seat at the head of the table with you beside him. He looked around, taking in the sight—the cake you’d just set down, the quiet chatter as Uraume and Toji exchanged comments, and his daughter babbling in his lap, still pawing at his face with sticky fingers.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt peace. 
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The “Happy Birthday” song had been sung, candles blown out, cake shared, and Toji had crashed in the guest room, completely knocked out. Uraume, too, was resting in another room, finally allowing herself a few hours of sleep.
In your bed, the soft rise and fall of your daughter’s tiny breaths filled the space between you and Sukuna. She slept peacefully between you both, tiny fingers curled into fists as she dreamed. But you and Sukuna were both wide awake, eyes locked on each other in the moonlight. His hand drifted up, fingertips brushing your cheek. 
“Do you remember my first letter?” you asked.
A smirk began at his lips. “You mean the diary entry about the cockroaches in your kitchen and how you thought seducing your landlord was a better solution than paying rent?”
You laughed, covering your mouth to keep quiet, not wanting to wake your baby. He loved that laugh—the way it sounded like music only he got to hear.
“Or how no one with one functioning eye could ever be taken seriously romantically,” he added. “Debunked, by the way.”
Your laugh softened, and you looked at him with a smile that held a thousand memories. “Do you remember the last thing I wrote?”
“The part about Satanism?”
You laughed again, the sound bubbling up and melting into the dark. And as he listened, he couldn’t help but chuckle alongside, his thumb tracing along your cheek, taking in the moment like he was trying to memorise it.
You took a breath, glancing down before meeting his eyes again. “I said I was lonely as hell, remember?” Sadness wove into your words. “And . . . I was. Back then, I thought no one could ever really understand me. Until you did.”
Sukuna shook his head. “You were never meant to be alone, baby,” he murmured. “Not then, not ever. Not while I’m here.”
You swallowed, heart catching as you looked at the life you’d built, the fragile happiness that now lay nestled between you both. “I’m just . . . scared sometimes,” you admitted. “I’m scared of losing this. Of losing you. I don’t know if I could protect what we have.”
“We’ll protect it together,” Sukuna affirmed. “Nothing will take this from us. Not while I’m still breathing.” He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was deep, reassuring, exactly like the one he’d give you when you’d sealed your vows. When he pulled back, you met his eyes, a soft smile tugging at your mouth. 
“I love you, Sukuna,” you whispered, fingers brushing his sharp jaw. “Genuinely, your wife.”
He took them and gave a kiss to the tips. “And I love you most, baby. Genuinely, your husband.” 
Moments later, your eyes drifted shut, your breathing evening out as you finally slipped into sleep. But Sukuna stayed awake, his gaze never leaving you, or your daughter. 
This was the family he’d fought and bled for, the life he’d killed to create. And yet, an unsettling undercurrent of unfinished business tugged at his nerves. But tonight, he forced it away, just for a while. 
For now, there was no room for anything but the second chance he’d been given.
Genuinely, by you.
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hyuny-bunny · 6 months ago
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what are your thoughts on skz with a dumb s/o? like genuinely ditzy and little absentminded and forgetful, but you’re still such a sweetheart. makes them wonder how dumb you’ll go on their cocks.
skz + dumb s/o
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MDNI(18+): suggestive, nsfw, corruption kink, dumb kink ?, finger sucking, oral, penetration.
love this ask so much, it's not something i've thought much about before but here you go ! :3
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chan: oh he dotes on you sooooo much. in the beginning he thought it was just a cute quirk but as you became more serious he realized... you really are just ditzy. he can't lie that he has to hold back on the days you can't help saying "huh?" or "hmm?" to everything but it sounds so saccharine from you. he loves the duality of it though. he can dote on you with how cute your whims are then flip you into a submissive state. even more so when he decides to pin you down in the backseat of his car putting your pretty mouth to good use. chastising you with "pretty baby so cock dumb hmm? only good for sucking me off huh?" with your response being your typical "hmm?" but your mouth stuffed with cock instead. even with your whimpers to take more of him in your mouth, he's happy to oblige holding your pretty face in his hands to use your mouth.
minho: as 1/3 of paboracha, he's never minded. intially i think he would think consider them as one off moments like asking the same question twice in a 2 second span. he might look at for a solid momemt with those cat blinking stares, processing that you're serious. he finds it cute though!! maybe quietly giggling to himself before kissing you on the forehead in passing. he likes it even more so when you're too cock dumb from him making you ride him while he coos and pets you like he does a cat. after trying to tease him all day with sex and suggestive groping. he only let you ride his thigh before caving into you enough to give you his cock after you begged him so nicely. "jagiya, use your words hm? too dumb to speak now hmm?" he'll say while thrusting up into you pretending he's not paying you any attention
changbin: loves loves loves how ditzy you are. he likes playing into the idea that he's just as much brain as he is brawn to you. especially when you're so absentminded with your surroundings in public. maybe there's someone being creepy towards you in a cafe, he's clocked them in already wrapping a protective arm around. you pick up in his protectiveness and to find your answer is being stared down with daggers by binnie. you're hero, savior! you have to reward him with the best head he'll ever had so you're happily taking him in your mouth once your home. he's got you on his cock taking him all the way down his throat while he coaxes you into fitting it all in your mouth "stupid angel always needs time to come to rescue mmh rewards me so sweetly."
hyunjin: 2/3 of paboracha coming in. he'd never think you were outright dumb, ditzy ? oblivious ? yes. he himself has no room to judge, you'd probably have him questioning himself on multiple occasions. you're probably just a little more oblivious around him, which he doesn't mind one bit. he kinda finds it cute how little though you probably give to so many things. he finds it even cuter when he's able to convince you to wear an outfit he picked out for you, one that of course will give him easy access to tease you in public. it was supposed to be cute picnic in secluded area of the park, until he had you laid out on the blanket taking his cock from behind shoving strawberry in your mouth & sucking fingers to shut you up. "shhh my love, don't want people to find us okay? can't let them see how stupid you were to let me take you like this"
han: going 3 for 3 with paboracha here. another one who dotes on your ditzy nature. i could see him with a s/o that's a little more clumsy. maybe you're always scraping a knee, bumping into sharp corners, burning yourself while cooking/baking, or just straight up walking into glass doors or poles. whatever the case may be he's there holding out his arms to soothe you, giving you kisses all over your face. he finds out how easy it is to convince you to the dumbest things. like convincing you that if you let him go down on you, his headache will go away or you're sore throat from the concert last night will feel sooooo much better if you blow him. that by swallow his cum, it'll feel & tase better then honey. "that's it's, good, suck me dry baby i promise you'll feel better. we might have to try a few loads of cum for it to work, k? just focus on taking it all though." his head thrown back while shoving you further on his cock.
felix: he likes that your so absentminded and ditzy. it make its so easy for him to impress you. especially when he has you sitting like a curious cat on his bed while you watch him build his new PC. your eyes sparking with excitement as he completes each step. or even when you watch him bake his recipes from scratch. doe eyed while you sit perched on the counter making your favorite brownies! he'd take a finger coated in the batter letting you lick off his fingers which only leads to him fucking you on the counter while he makes you choke on his batter covered fingers, "doesn't your orgasm feel so much better when you have something so sweet in your mouth mm? maybe let's watch you suck me off with the batter on my cock since you like my fingers so much?"
seungmin: mean dom seung *sigh*. he loves you to death but god you make it so easy for him to tease you. you're not a quick as he is, whether it's his snarky remarks or quick reactions to things he knows. you try to learn baseball, not actually playing but you know the basic rules. you want to try to at least understand what goes in the game. you're not the best but your attempts don't go unnoticed. even when someone hits a home-run but you're shouting goal so confidently it has him falling to his knees in laughing clutching his stomach because you genuinely meant it. he calls you the nth member of paboracha but in bed you're his dumb cock slut, taking him so good you're babbling nonsense. " what was that slut ? did you say something ? aren't you too dumb for words? " he'd condescendingly say before slamming himself into you once more.
jeongin: bark. sorry i love him so badly. he takes your ditzy nature as naiveness. whether or not that's the case, he'll treat it that way. even when you try to argue over something you know already he'll talk to you so sweetly like he's done such a good job of teaching you. maybe you're trying to learn japanese and his fluency helps you but he'll tsk you if he's in a particular mood. maybe you're out in japan gawking, 'ooh'ing and 'aww'ing at each store and you're curiosity almost gets you dragged in a male host club. so jeongin decides you need a break for a few hours so he checks you into a love hotel (unbeknownst to you) where he'd spend the next 2 hours or so talking down in your ear while he plays with you between your legs. haughtily scolding you for every single thing that's led to this moment, " i thought you knew better ? you have to listen to me jagiya, there's so many people out there that just want to use you hmm. guess i'll just have to show you." all before bending you over and smooshing your face into the pillow to abuse your hole with his cock, crying out for him to let you cum. chastising you until he's felt you learned you lesson.
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fairyofhee · 8 days ago
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the space between. (TEASER)
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PAIRING. heeseung x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS. It was a mutual agreement between you and the boy with high status and reputation to say that the kiss you both shared was a mistake and meant absolutely nothing. But while trying to win over your crush, you were distracted by that mistaken kiss from the boy who’s won over your heart.
GENRE. smut, slight love triangle, rich!heeseung, basketball player!heeseung, flower shop worker!reader, angst, hurt, fluff, bickering, some themes inspired by f4 thailand
WARNINGS. 18+ only; MINORS DNI. profanity, kissing, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected intimate sex
FIC RELEASE. Saturday, November 16 (12 AM EST)
TAGLIST. OPEN (SEND AN ASK OR COMMENT)
WORD COUNT. teaser 500 / fic 15.2k
The sound of the doorbell sent a jolt of nerves through you. You hurried to answer and as you open the door, you glance at Heeseung, who stood shifting on his feet with a tray of drinks in his hand.
“You’re 10 mins early,” you said, raising an eyebrow.
“I can leave then come back,” he replied with a half-smile.
“Get inside.”
He walked inside, peering around your home and following you into the kitchen before speaking.
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
“For the drinks? Thank you.”
“No, your boyfriend is coming over because I suggested that the three of us should work together,” he places the tray of drinks on the countertop. “And I figured that if I leave early, you guys can spend time alone.”
You shake your head, “You don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, well, I thought it’d be nice.”
“I have a few questions,” he suddenly says.
“Let me guess,” you replied. “It’s not about the project?”
“Did you kiss him yet?”
You raised an eyebrow, confusion flickering across your face. “No, nothing’s happened between us.”
Heeseung chewed on his bottom lip and let silence pass by. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as he suddenly walked towards you. You could feel the electric pull of his proximity, a magnetic force that had been intensifying ever since he’d stepped inside your house.
Your heart raced as you looked up at him, it felt like deja vu when his doe eyes were searching yours for permission.
You hide the fact that you were panicking when Heeseung leaned closer. You had nowhere to go as the kitchen counter was behind you. His breath was warm against your face, then he licked his bottom lip, you knew he wanted to kiss you again.
“Heeseung,” you said, your voice betraying a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. “I still have feelings for Sunghoon.”
You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, “And you have a girlfriend.”
He laughs. “You’re trying to find excuses to not kiss me right now even though you want to.”
Your hands meet his chest as you gently push him. “You’re annoying,” the hint of a smile tugging at your lips, “And I’m not a homewrecker.”
You watched as he took a hesitant step forward. “So you’re saying that if I was single, you wouldn’t be opposed to kissing me again?”
You try to find your voice, a simple response to reject him, but couldn’t.
“I’m not dating Ji-ho,” he shakes his head, “We’re just-“
The sound of the doorbell interrupts him.
“We’re just friends, it’s nothing serious.” He admits.
“That’s probably Sunghoon at the door,” you step aside and head for the front door, trying to keep your cool and shake off what just happened.
© 2024, fairyofhee on tumblr.
note. finally releasing this after a year of it sitting in the drafts! i’m excited to everyone to read it — taglist is open!
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ladycaramelswirl · 5 months ago
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definitely not old
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
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A/N: Did I create an extremely improbable scenario just to suit my need to create another highly improbable scenario? Yes. Do I care that it’s unrealistic? No. Please forgive any typos/ grammatical errors. 
CW: suggestive content, but not explicit (like 15+?). Use of y/n one time. (Technically this would probably warrant one of those hostile workplace environment seminars like they had for Derek and Penelope. But it’s funny? Idk this isn’t serious.) Sassy Hotch. Crack plot tbh. 
Also I know the timeline doesn’t really make sense, because JJ is a profiler and Emily and Rossi exist, but I imagined Season 1 Spencer while writing this! I guess it’s 2005? Btw I do not know how tapes work, so just pretend it makes sense please. This is so unserious. 
Summary: reader wife and Hotch are private people; the BAU team is nosy. Spencer is just constantly in the right place at the wrong time. 
Enjoy!
——————
The screen in front of you depicted horror - just not the kind the BAU was used to. The UnSub had confessed to leaving a message in an old tape. He had already been arrested, but you were all hoping it might contain something that might help the conviction stick. Only he was extremely paranoid, so not only had he left the message in a code, but he had spliced it into a tape he thought people were least likely to watch. His p***. It was the last thing to do for the case and everyone was trying to help. You all sit at the round table, and Spencer shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Derek laughs at his shyness and Emily laughs at the very unrealistic movements. She and JJ tilt their heads at the shape the two on the screen have put themselves into. 
“That does not look comfortable”, JJ mocks. 
The words are out of your mouth before you think. “Trust me it’s not”. 
Everyone at the table snaps their heads to look at you. 
“Damn Mama”, Derek laughs. “Who are you doing these moves with?”
You try to hold back a laugh. You were not ready to share about your sex life with your colleagues, no matter how close you were. Plus you’re pretty sure Aaron would not appreciate it. 
“That is inappropriate workplace conversation”, you say, pausing the video. “And you’re going to miss the next series of code”, you tell him, trying to get him to revert his attention back to the video. Emily grins at your attempted evasion.
“We already got all the code. She just doesn’t want us to tell Hotch she’s capable of all that. Doesn’t want to make the old man feel bad”.
“He’s not old. He’s only 5 years older than you”, you remind her. She puts a hand on her chest in mock offense like you’ve stabbed her. You roll your eyes. “And this is still inappropriate”.
“So it wasn’t Hotch”, Derek laughs. 
“You’re just annoyed because you haven’t tried it yourself”, you deflect, moving to sit next to Spencer who seems to actually be doing his job. 
“I’ve seen her do yoga and she’s very flexible, so if she couldn’t do it I don’t think you can”, JJ tells Morgan. 
“Oh you have no idea what I’m capable of”, he teases, which earns laughs from around the table. “I’m better than the old man for sure”. They all start laughing and talking about you and Hotch. 
You roll your eyes. “Wasn’t old in bed last night”, you mutter under your breath. You startle at the sound of a book hitting the floor and see Spencer’s bright red face. JJ, Derek and Emily look over in curiosity at what they might have missed, but you ignore them, attempting to give Spencer an apology for making him uncomfortable. He moves to drink his coffee in an attempt to avoid more of the conversation. Only he chokes on it because Hotch enters the room. 
“Have you finished working out the code?”
Everyone’s heads snap to him - JJ, Emily and Derek wearing matching grins. Hotch eyes you patting a coughing Spencer’s back.
“Are you alright?”, he asks. 
“Yes! Good! I’m good!”, Spencer squeaks, afraid Hotch is going to ask him why he’s so nervous. Aaron looks to you for some answers but before you can tell him it’s nothing, Spencer suddenly stands up.
“Got the code! Going to call the local PD. DA is waiting”, he warbles before you all watch him run out of the room. Hotch turns back to the rest of you. 
“Well then that wraps it up. Go home now, get some rest”, he instructs. Everyone starts packing up. You and Hotch walk towards the door when he realises there’s only 6 of you in the room. 
“Where’s Dave?”, he asks.
You’re about to tell him Rossi went to the bathroom when the Italian walks back in. Rossi immediately notes the paused video.
“Wow that looks uncomfortable”, he remarks. Everyone smirks in your direction. Hotch snakes an arm around your waist and looks at the screen. Then at you. 
“It was, wasn’t it?”
He smiles at the jaws dropping to the floor. 
“Good night everyone”.
—————————
A little bonus scene:
In his office later:
“You heard us talking before you came in the room didn’t you”, you question your husband. He was so private, he wouldn’t have said something like that otherwise. 
“They called me old”, Aaron grumbles, but his tone is amused. “Just wanted to shock them a little”.
You make your way over to his side of the desk, pulling him to stand up beside you. 
“Well Agent Hotchner, I have to tell you, there’s been some speculation about your performance”, you taunt. “Care to prove them wrong?”
“Last night wasn’t enough proof?”, he laughs raising an eyebrow. You run your hands up his chest and behind his neck, pulling him close. 
“The results were inconclusive”, you tease. He grabs your hips and traps you between himself and his desk, his mouth trailing kisses down your jaw. 
“Well I can’t have that kind of speculation going around”, he murmurs into your skin. Your breath hitches from the sensation of his lips on the sensitive spot on your neck. But instead of continuing, he pulls away and meets your eyes in a conspiratorial grin. “We should do an in house evaluation as soon as possible”.
You open your mouth to reply when the door swings open, Spencer finding you sandwiched between Hotch’s thighs and your blouse rumpled. His mouth drops open and suddenly all 187 iq points mean nothing when his brain loses function.
“Oh- I- um- sorry!”, he manages before running away. You stare at the slammed door then back at Aaron and burst into giggles. He drops his head to your shoulders and sighs. 
“I feel like a teenager”, he groans.
“At least you don’t feel old.”
—————————
Bonus bonus: 
Still in the conference room: 
“I want to go back to 10 minutes ago when I didn’t know this information”, Emily moans. 
“I think I need 5 more minutes before I can form a coherent thought”, JJ laughs in disbelief. Spencer walks back in.
“I finished my report. Where’s Hotch and y/n? Can we go home?”
“Probably doing it in his office for all we know”, Derek mutters.
Spencer’s brows furrow in confusion. “Doing what in his office?”
Rossi raises an eyebrow at Emily. “Is this kid serious?”
She shrugs back at him. 
“Spence, Hotch says we can go home. But you should probably report about what local PD told you before you go”, JJ tells him.
Spencer nods and makes his way to Hotch’s office. The rest of the team watch him walk away.
“You think we should have told him to knock before going in?”
“Probably.”
The sound of a high pitch yelp and the slam of an office door echo down the hallway. 
“Oops.”
——————
thank you for reading :)
masterlist
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surielstea · 6 months ago
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“I could take you”
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Pairing: Acotar men x Fem!Reader (separately)
Summary: Reader teases her mate, saying she could take them in a fight, or in other places.
Warnings: All fluff, suggestive
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Rhysand
"I could take you," I surmise aloud. My mate, who was trying to sleep peeked one eye open.
"We just finished, I'm not one to complain but aren't you tired?" He grumbled and I giggled.
"Not sex, I could take you in a fight dummy," I punch his shoulder and his brows rise.
"Oh really?" He drags out, arm wrapping tighter around my torso, pulling me into his chest as darkness swarms the room. "Don't make me mist you," He mumbled tiredly into my neck and I rolled my eyes.
"I'm serious, I could," I urge. "I know just how I'd do it too," I trail my fingertips up his bare chest.
"You think about killing me often?" He presumes and I roll my eyes.
"I'm just saying, it'd be easy," I tease.
"Murder me in your dreams, you fiend," He huffed, stuffing his face into my breasts without thought.
"Only kidding Rhys, I'd never harm you," I reassure. "But I could," I add and he smiles against my chest at the absurdity of this mindless conversation.
Cassian
"I could take you," I cross my arms over my chest, sizing up my mate with narrowed eyes. The shirtless male looked at me with an arched brow while he drank deeply from his water. I had been watching him train for hours now, so long that it felt as if I had every one of his moves and skills memorized.
"You think so?" He challenges and I nod with a beaming grin, taking a step closer and staring up at him entirely innocent.
"I know so," I shrug. His smile only widens.
"I guarantee I could have you on your knees within seconds," He leans dauntingly close but I don't falter, keep my unwavering ground.
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," I rise onto my toes and peck his lips. He seemed entirely thrown off by the mix of my kiss and the nickname, and that fact alone made me one thousand percent sure I could throw him off his rhythm in combat too, he might've called it cheating but I saw it as a strategic advantage of sorts.
“You want to spar or would you prefer to take me in other ways?" He taunted and I'd be lying if I didn't want both, though I decided I wanted one a little more.
"What are you waiting for tough guy?" I backed up towards the mats with a prideful smirk that mirrored his.
Azriel
My mate had his head in my lap while he read some non-fiction I had no interest in, much preferring to run my hands through his curls and watch his tense features morph into those of relaxation. My thoughts wandered in the comfortable silence, it began by thinking of what he was reading about, then the fact that he was smart and strong, and then it spiraled from there.
"I think I could take you in a fight," I mumble and his eyes that had been running across his page froze, then flicked up to mine.
"What was that, my love?" He closed his book, pausing whatever page he was in the middle of in order to give me his full attention.
"I could take you," I repeat and he blinks, then, to my surprise, he nods.
"Probably," He hums, cracking his book back open and offering no explanation as to why he thinks so.
Azriel was a competitive male, even with me. So when he said such a thing I was thrown entirely off my train of thought. "Wait— you're serious?" My hands stop combing through his hair and his bottom lip juts out in the absence of the ministrations, a grown male, pouting.
"When am I not?" He hummed and I rolled my eyes. The answer to that was more often than he'd care to admit.
"Why do you think I can?" I ask.
He shrugs simply before saying, "You'd probably use your witchcraft on me.” His eyes were entirely genuine. I push his head off my lap with a faux look of anger. He came back to me with full force, arms reaching around me and pulling me into him, his head pressing in the junction between my neck and shoulder. "I'm not a witch," I huff and he only smiles against my skin.
"Maybe not, but your seductive powers work too well on me," He explains and I roll my eyes. The powers he was referring to included a lingerie set and a few keywords that had him doing laps.
"It's not hard when I've got you wrapped around my finger," I sing and he sighs contentedly, pulling me closer, seemingly happy with with that statement, like he would never try to change that fact. Even if it meant I could take him down on a sparring mat.
Eris Vanserra
Eris was baking. An odd sight to see for anyone else but for me, it was a simple Sunday morning. I drifted into the kitchen with a drunken smile on my face as I slung my arms around his torso and draped myself over him. "What's that grin for?" He glances over at me before continuing to read whatever recipe he was following.
"Just thinking," I hum with a dazed look. It was no secret that today had been the peak of my ovulation in my cycle, my need for him was all-consuming. Yet here he was, baking my favorite flavor pie. "I wanna take you," I huff into his shoulder and he chuckles.
He makes a real show of ignoring my pleas and instead answers with an amused tone, "In a fight?"
I scowl, my frown deepening as I stare up at him— but then he had me thinking about it. "Why not?" I shrug.
"You sure you can?" He tilts his head down at me demeaningly— gods, he knows this is torture.
"Fine, you're too smart for me to beat in a fight but I could take you to other places," I wrap my arms around his neck and he sloppily smiles. "You're plenty smart, my sweet," His hands come to my hips, and his touch alone relieved sacred parts of me. I shake my head in denial. "C'mon, I've got a few weak spots I’m sure you could figure it out," He reassures, his voice soft. I didn't want to think about fighting him, I never wanted to have to.
"I love you too much to fight with you," I shrug, lifting up and pecking his lips innocently, void of my earlier arousal.
"That," He whispers against my lips. "That was one of my weak spots," He murmurs and I smile.
"Can you fuck me now or is this pie still more important than your very pretty, very needy mate?" I ask impatiently and he shakes his head with a charming expression. "Very needy, indeed."
Lucien Vanserra
“I could take you, and I don’t mean in a fight,” I say, head propped up on my mate's shoulder, peering up at him from inches away while he focused on peeling a tangerine for me. He simply laughs when he notices I’m serious, lips curling into a delighted smile.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” He mumbles and I flip over onto his lap, straddling his hips.
“I’ll let you figure that out,” I mumble with a shrug. He shakes his head, looking down at the fruit in his hand as he peels the rind.
“You’re ridiculous,” He mumbled under his breath and I grinned wildly.
“You love it,” I muse and he looks up to me, handing me the peeled orange, ready to be eaten.
“I do,” He confesses, and that look on his face makes my stomach blossom with warmth, overflowing with admiration and devotion.
I don’t know how to react, or what to do with all the love he gives me, so instead I say the first thing that comes to mind, “I could also take you in a fight, though.”
He leans closer with a teasing grin. “And why’s that sunshine?” He hums as I pop a slice of the tangerine into my mouth, the sweet taste of citrus making me smile.
“You wouldn’t be able to fight back,” I shrug and his brows crease in confusion.
“Cause I’d be too scared?” He presumes and I shake my head, swallowing my fruit.
“Because you love me,” I croon.
“Unfortunately,” He grumbles under his breath and my jaw drops in shock. “Lu!” I exclaim as I push his shoulders and he falls back into the couch.
“I’m only kidding sunshine, you know you’re all I’ve ever wanted,” He reassured with a lilt in his tone, making me roll my eyes.
“I’m seriously debating that fight right now,” I murmur and he smiles, hand coming to my cheek and pulling me into him.
“Such a drama queen,” He mumbles, pressing his mouth to mine before I can retort. I melt into him, hands coming to his cheeks with delicate touches, my thumb tracing the end of his scar. “I love you too much to fight back, too,” I admit, his smile only grows. “I know.”
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reidmania · 13 days ago
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living for the hope of it all | s.reid
summary; spencer wants more than you can offer him.
warnings; fem reader, situationships, friends w benefits situation, illusions to sex, no strings attached agreement, reader has commitment issues, avoidant reader, angst, no happy ending.
an; yayayyayaya i laove angst, i laove avoidant reader.
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You’re sitting across from him, feeling the heat of his gaze from across the room. It’s the same look he always gives you—part curiosity, part yearning, with a layer of something deeper that you’ve tried to ignore from the start. Spencer Reid, a genius, the child prodigy, and, perhaps most dangerously, the man who seems to see right through you.
When you began whatever this was, you were upfront. You didn’t want commitment, didn’t need the complications of feelings and labels. You’d made your boundaries clear, blunt, even cold. No dates, no labels, no expectations. Just the two of you, occasionally meeting in quiet places, sharing stolen hours that were meant to be simple. And you could tell yourself it was just that—simple. Until recently.
It’s not like you didn’t see the signs. The way his hand would linger on your arm, the way his texts became a little more frequent, or how he’d suggest something that sounded suspiciously like an actual date. You’d turn him down or laugh it off, dismissing it like he was only half-serious. But tonight is different. You can feel it. The weight of whatever he’s holding back is nearly suffocating.
“So,” he starts, voice gentle, almost hesitant. “I… need to talk to you about something.”
There it is. The words you’ve been dreading. You swallow, pushing down the instinct to shut this down before it begins, to brush him off with some practiced line that will let you slip out of this conversation unscathed. But something in the way he’s looking at you makes it impossible.
You force yourself to hold his gaze. “What’s on your mind?”
He shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that makes him look younger, a little vulnerable. “I think…” He takes a breath, and you brace yourself for the impact. “I think I want something more with you.”
The words hang between you like a fragile thread, stretched taut, ready to snap. You feel a familiar tightness in your chest, that instinctual urge to pull away, to build walls so high he couldn’t possibly climb them. But instead, you just stare, hoping he’ll continue so you don’t have to respond. Maybe he’ll convince himself it was a bad idea to bring it up.
But Spencer isn’t that easy to dissuade. He’s studied you, probably more than anyone else has. He knows you won’t answer right away. He knows how much you hate talking about feelings, especially your own.
“Look,” he says, quieter now, almost pleading. “I know you said you didn’t want anything serious, and I understand why. But I can’t keep pretending that this is enough for me.”
You open your mouth to reply, but the words get tangled in your throat. He’s too close, too intense, and the familiar panic starts to rise. You want to tell him that he doesn’t need anything more from you, that he should know this was all it ever would be, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to say it.
Instead, you manage a sigh, crossing your arms defensively. “Spencer, we talked about this.”
“I know.” His voice is still soft, but there’s a firmness underneath it. “But people change, right? Feelings change. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I can’t just… stay in this halfway place anymore. Not when I know how I feel about you.”
His words hit you like a punch, and you have to steady yourself, focusing on anything other than his face. You’d been so careful to make sure he knew this was just casual, just an arrangement. A simple fix to fulfill a mutual need. And yet, the way he’s looking at you makes it clear that somewhere along the way, he forgot.
You shift uncomfortably, arms still crossed. “This… isn’t what I want,” you finally say, each word careful and deliberate. “We agreed this was going to be casual. No strings, no feelings.”
“But can’t you see that it’s not that simple anymore?” His voice cracks slightly, and you can hear the desperation, the frustration simmering beneath. “I know you’re scared, and I know you don’t want to get hurt. But I can’t keep pretending that I don’t care about you, not when I think about you all the time, not when—”
“Spencer.” You cut him off, sharp, and he flinches slightly. “You knew what this was. I told you from the beginning. I can’t… I’m not going to be someone you can build a future with.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, as if steadying himself, and when he looks at you again, there’s a vulnerability there that makes your stomach twist. “Why not? Why can’t you let yourself care about me?”
Your jaw tightens, and you look away, swallowing down the familiar knot of emotions you’re used to burying. You know he won’t understand, not fully. The truth is too complicated, too layered in years of self-protection, a lifetime of not trusting anyone to stay. Of not trusting yourself to hold onto something good without destroying it. You wished you could argue that you did care about him, because you did. Too much. An uncomfortable amount. An un-admitable amount.
“It’s just not who I am,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t… I don’t do relationships, Spencer. I told you this.”
“You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to keep running from this just because it scares you.” His words cut deeper than you’re willing to admit. There’s a part of you, a voice you’ve tried to ignore, that wonders if maybe he’s right, if maybe you’re just too afraid of what could go wrong to even let yourself imagine what could go right. But the fear outweighs the possibility, and you push that thought away as quickly as it comes.
“It’s not just fear,” you insist, more to yourself than him. “I don’t want the kind of life you want. I don’t want the same things you do.” You didn’t know if this was true, you shut down any hopeful conversation about the future. About what sort of life you wanted, when he had asked you how many kids you wanted that one time you stayed awake together too late, you laughed and brushed it off. You couldn’t imagine being with someone long enough to get to that point.
Spencer’s expression shifts, something like resignation settling in his eyes. He nods slowly, and for a moment, the silence feels crushing, as though it’s pressing down on both of you, making it hard to breathe.
“Okay,” he says finally, his voice quiet, hollow. “If that’s what you really want, then… I’ll respect it.”
You can see the hurt in his eyes, the way he’s forcing himself to accept your words, and it tears at something inside you that you didn’t even realize was vulnerable. You want to tell him that you’re sorry, that you wish things could be different, but the words feel empty in your mouth. If you could choose anyone in the world to fall in love with, it would be Spencer Reid, but regardless of whatever apology or wishful truth you could spit out, it wouldn’t change anything. You and Spencer were so close to being enough, yet so far, like January and December.
So, instead, you just nod, your expression carefully neutral. “It’s for the best, Spencer. Really.” Some sick words you can’t even convince yourself are true.
He gives you a small, sad smile, the kind that twists your insides and makes you want to take it all back, just for a moment. But you don’t. You stay rooted to your spot, holding onto the fragile shell of indifference you’ve constructed around yourself.
“Right,” he says, standing up slowly, his movements careful, as though he’s afraid of breaking something. “I guess… I’ll see you around.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, and you don’t try to stop him. You watch as he walks away, each step feeling like a goodbye that you’re not sure you’re ready for. But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? The freedom to walk away without attachment, without strings.
But as he disappears around the corner, a hollow ache settles in your chest, a strange emptiness that feels foreign and terrifying. You tell yourself it will pass, that this is just the consequence of cutting ties. You’re good at this. You’re good at moving on. But this time, as the silence fills the space he left behind, you realize with a sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as immune as you thought.
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rensblade · 11 months ago
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𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃.
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⟢ warnings/notes: husband! jing yuan x gender neutral! reader. toothrotting fluff, cute domestic banter tbh. husband yuan nation, please rise. not proofread, we die like tingyun. might be ooc. pls lmk if i got any of the hsr terminology wrong.. appreciate any type of feedback & please please pleaseee send me reqs if u have any ✩
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“beloved, am i really that bad of a general?”
the all too familiar baritone of your husband’s voice fills in your ears, as you raise your gaze from the distance, only to watch him sulk from where he was sat upon the seat of divine foresight.
to anyone that squints, would be graced upon a phenomenon all too odd— jing yuan, one of seven arbiter generals, pouting.
“and what.. exactly makes you think so, ‘yuan?” you already knew the answer, but you still entertained the fact he was pouting, almost comically the same way yanqing does, when you deny him from making impulsive sword purchases.. or the same way mimi, your household lion, scrunches up her face and paws at your clothes when you tell her that she won't get any more snacks for the night.
said man sits up from where he's at, and abruptly makes his way down to where you're seated— at his desk. sorting through some of the things unattended earlier during his earlier escapade to fyxestroll garden.
“well.. you know.” he deadpans, staring down at you. you have to keep in a giggle, finding the way he waited so patiently for you to finish with the work at your side, almost akin to your precious lion who does the same.
you heave a sigh, but in an amused way, as you stack the last documents into a neat pile and turn in your chair, and upon being graced with your attention; your lover nearly falls dramatically into your arms.
“i can't help but think i should just hand over my resignation early. you know what, fu xuan probably saw this coming,” he fake-wails, as you caress his hair, cooing at the man who was currently at your feet.
eventually, he relents, when you tug a little hard on his fluffy white mane. “darling.. is this about cirrus?” the mere mention of the heliobus makes jing yuan glower, and you practically have to bite back your laughter at the expression, opting to clear your throat instead.
he stays silent for a second, then scrunches his face. “..absolutely not,” he retaliates in a serious tone. then, he slumps forward again, almost nuzzling into your lap as he tries to hypothesize. “it's just. i need some constructive criticism, before i actually hand over my position to someone else, you know,” he reasons, but you know better.
“right, why of course.” you humor him a little bit longer. pushing the general’s buttons has always been your favorite past time activity.
he pulls away, getting on his feet before he gathers your hands into his and gives you a solemn look. “you get me, my love. this is why we're married.”
that makes you crack a smile. jing yuan only raises a brow, but returns the smile nevertheless, a little hesitant. “yuan, i love you, but. you mean solid constructive criticism like.. i don't know, maybe it's about time you retired and took a big fat cat nap?” you suggest with a snort, and jing yuan simply huffs. (yeah, mimi definitely got the attitude from her dad).
you shake your head, dragging him to sit next to you as you elaborated. “in all seriousness.. you're not a bad general. not a bad mentor, father or husband, jing yuan. don't let that silly heliobi’s words get to your head.” the tall man, lets you cup his face, squishing his cheeks as you pepper kisses across them, as if to prove your point.
he simply gathers your form up into his arms, holding you tightly and you can't help but relax into the warmth he emits. he's truly a big cat. “you know, i’m starting to think this must be how birds that nest in your hair must feel.” you point out with a false-huff, after a minute of silence.
jing yuan chuckles at that, purposely tugging you by the waist; flush closer against his torso as he nuzzles into you— pale locks of his hair cloud your vision. “why, of course. a wise, little sparrow, you are.” he snuggles against you, golden eyes softening as they examine your reactions. “in fact, my favorite.” the baritone of his words send a pleasant wave of warmth through your body, you can feel him smile against your skin as he litters little kisses here and there.
to be fair, if you were held prisoner in his gentle yet steady hold forever, you were more than willing to be reduced to a mere bird, for eternity. okay, and maybe you would miss making snarky rebuttals at the general, but that's about it.
as you're resting yourself against him, a thought crosses your mind, and you'd bask in the silent affection but your loud thoughts cut you short. “and for the record, you still should've let me kick cirrus’s butt.” as expected, a hearty laugh booms from the man’s chest, the vibrations making your body tingle.
“i love you.” he says, practically purring, as the gigantic man nuzzles even further into the crevice of your neck, pressing yet another kiss to the spot he loves. his hair tickles your neck, but you love the familiarity of it all.
what a heavenly life you live, as the general’s personal songbird.
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rensblade, 2023. please do not steal my writings or headers, i put a lot of effort into this. reblogs & comments are appreciated! pls send me asks/reqs, i write for most genshin or hsr or jjk characters as of now. thank u once again <3
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f1goat · 8 months ago
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more than friends ; lando norris + part five
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile
part one / part two / part three / part four
You can’t stop staring at Lando. Everyone else around you is doing the exact same, you’re sure of it. He’s absolutely glowing right now. After his deleted lap time from the qualifications yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. It’s only seconds before they’ll hand him his deserved trophy for the second place from this race. A smile is plastered on your face while staring at Lando. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good. 
Lando is literally glowing. Most people would blame it on the sweat, but you can’t even think about things like that right now. All logic has left your brain, you can only focus on Lando and how good he looks. 
“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you after his podium. He’s still wearing that glow from his podium. You can smell the scent of expensive champagne. What if you would kiss Lando right now, would you taste the champagne? If there weren’t this many people around you, you’d have loved to find that out. While Lando doesn’t talk at first, you continue to praise him and his race. Lando gives you a hug, something you gladly return. 
“You know what this means, right babygirl?” Lando whispers in your ear while hugging you. You think back at the conversations between you two from earlier. Is he serious? This is what he’s thinking about right now? You wait for Lando to continue, he must mean something else. “I want you,” Lando speaks up again in a slow but firm way, “in my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debrief.” 
You feel your cheeks heating up, they are red now for sure. 
“Can you do that for me babygirl?” Lando continues to ask you. You can’t seem to get out any word right now, so you answer him with a nod. If you did know what to say, you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a small kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe even this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over social media.
You’re no stranger to social media, but whenever Lando and you make an appearance together somewhere you’re socials seem to fill up with hate. 
Lando walks away from you. It’s clear what you need to do right now. He was quite obvious about his wishes and who are you to deny those for him? Without thinking about it further, you walk back towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are - and that if they say no, they’ll have to deal with an angry Lando, but you don’t know about that. Instead of making some conversation with the cheerful people who are still around, you walk straight towards Lando his drivers room. 
When you enter his room, you start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear, yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel even more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then for him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando seeing everything of you that makes you nervous. He hasn’t seen your private parts before. What if they don’t look good enough? Normally Lando dates models, you bet they look a lot better then you. 
You try to shake off the negative thoughts and focus on your Instagram. The story you posted a it earlier about Lando on his podium, is getting a lot of reactions. You scroll through every one of them. When you see a notification from Lando popping up, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?
Lando: 5 minutes babe x
Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes :))
Only the thought about you waiting for Lando in his drivers room in only your lingerie - or maybe even naked, makes you feel too many things at once. Your stomach tightens when you think about it, you don’t know if it’s because of excitement or nerves. Without realizing it, you’re already kicking off your sneakers. Your next movements are going on automatic pilot. At this moment you don’t think about all the people who can simply just walk in and see you like this. It doesn’t even come up in your mind right now. You can only focus on doing what Lando asked you and pleasing him. In a short period of time, the floor is covered in the clothes you were wearing before. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a simple black set, nothing too exciting but it does look nice. You think about buying an orange set someday. Are you going to keep it on or not? You doubt. Eventually you decide to fuck it and take it off as well.
You thank the warm weather of today and of this country. The thought of Lando who can be here any second, is enough to make you shiver. It feels strange to wait for Lando naked, certainly while being in his drivers room. Then you realize that Lando has never seen you like this before. The cons are starting to weight up. You start to doubt yourself more and more. What if he doesn’t like the way you look?
When the door opens you’re extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. Why does it only occur to you now that literally everyone can walk in here? You let out a relieved sound when you see that it’s Lando who opened the door. Lando has never closed a door faster. When he sees the way you’re waiting for him, he hurries himself inside the room and closes the door quickly behind himself. After that he’s even more hurried to come close to you. 
Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring, maybe he’s even making you uncomfortable with his staring, but he can’t stop. At this moment he doesn’t even think about looking away from you. He never saw you like this before. Everything that happened earlier between you two always happened with you in clothes. Of course, he had some information about your body from the summery looks and the bikinis. But still, this is mind-blowing to him. It’s even better then he imagined and he imagined it quite often… He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body.
For now his focus is onto your breasts, he notices the way your nipples are sticking out. They resemble small pebbles in his mind. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to feel them in his mouth until he feels them hardenen on his tongue, only to switch to the other one after that and experience it again. He lets his stare slide towards your most private parts. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other. He wants to see more of you. He wants to see everything from you. 
It can���t be right that you’re the girl who has made the most impact on him. He doesn’t even need to think about all the other girls to know for sure you’re the most beautiful one. Seeing you naked has caused him to be rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He tries to remember himself that this is all about you - and not about him, but it’s hard to stop thinking about his own pleasure while feeling as turned on as now. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes, and it’s doing way too much to him right now.
You start to feel a bit uncomfortable with Lando his current silence. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? Maybe you should ask him. When you start to think about what to question him, Lando lets out a soft sound. It almost sound likes a moan. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. It looks like he’s looking at you full with adoration and lust, or are you making that up? 
Lando walks closer to you. He takes his time to get close in front of you. When he’s finally standing in front of you, he is quick to lower himself so he’s on the same level as you. Then he eagerly puts his lips onto yours. He gives you a soft peck on your lips, before taking a seat next to you. Lando pulls you onto his lap. He makes sure you face him. At this moment he wants to see everything from your body the whole time. 
He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. He presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect you to be naked already,” Lando continues, “such a beautiful surprise.” He presses his lips against your body again and presses multiple kisses against it. Slowly he’s getting closer to your breasts. 
You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. He lets out a low groan. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes one of your breasts into his hand, softly feeling around it. He looks at you to focus on your facial expressions, hopefully to find out what you like - and more importantly, what not. After softly feeling around your tit, he takes it in his hand and kneads it softly. 
“Such a good girl,” Lando tells you. 
Your stomach tightens. Your cheeks redden once again. Such small words, but their impact is massive.
“Such a beautiful, good girl,” Lando whispers softly. 
Lando his attention switches to your tits. Your glad about it, because it’s probably embarrassing how red your cheeks are right now. Lando lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He’s still kneading one of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against your other boob. He presses soft kisses against it before he starts to suck on the soft skin. You quietly follow his movements with your eyes, not looking away for the tiniest bit. It doesn’t take Lando long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. You feel him sucking on it softly.
When Lando moves back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando changes his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, slowly letting it slide lower on your body. In the mean time he lets his mouth hoover over your other boob. It doesn’t take long before he takes your nipple in his mouth. Softly sucking it in again. It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you when you notice that you feel yourself getting more wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, you can’t complain about one tiny part of it. 
He removes his lips from your breast again. His hands are moving downwards. Quickly getting closer to your private parts. It annoys you that he doesn’t touch you where you need him. He keeps his hand barely above your pussy. You don’t even realize it when you let out a soft whine. 
Lando on the other hand is quick to notice the sound. “What’s wrong babygirl?” He asks you. You notice the small smirk that has appeared on his face. It makes you realize that he’s teasing you like this on purpose. Fucking tease. You want to tell him, but every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling. 
“I need you,” you softly whimper.
Lando lets out a low groan. Animalistic even. The whiny undertone in your voice makes him lose his mind. He moves himself lower, making sure to take a good position in front of you. You’re still sitting on the couch, Lando is onto his knees in front of you. He takes your legs into his hands, spreading them slowly for himself. 
You look at Lando, but he doesn’t look back. All his attention is on your pussy right now. Before you can feel uncomfortable, awkward or nervous about it - Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.
“Such a pretty pussy,” He tells you with a low voice. Carefully he slides his hand around it. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance. Lando knows he’s teasing you, maybe too much even, but he can’t stop himself. He loves the soft combination from whimpers, whines and moans that are coming from your lips. It’s his celebration after all, right? When he takes a look at you, he’s quick to notice the frustrated look on your face. It makes him realize how much you need him right now. A feeling that makes him feel unbelievable good about himself. He wants you to never need anyone else like this. If it’s up to him, he’s the one who you need like this for the rest of your life.
He slides his fingers on your lips. Carefully spreading them a bit with his hands. Giving himself more to look at.
“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you. 
He lets his finger slides through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. His finger is quickly coated in your slick. 
“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.
He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh. 
“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you. 
“Yes,” you’re quick to tell him. 
“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando asks you. He knows the answer already, but he wants nothing more then to hear you say it. He needs to hear that he’s the one who caused this. 
“You Lan,” you softly confess, “it’s all because of you.”
Lando can’t withhold a soft moan after hearing your answer. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. Slowly he moves closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine.
“I need more,” you confess, “Please Lan.”
Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time.
“More,” you let out.
Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure it’s still not enough for you. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. A thought pops up in his head, what if he made you beg for it? Fuck that would be hot. His dick is getting even harder while thinking about it. 
“What do you want baby?” Lando asks you.
He makes sure his finger is dangerously close to your clit right now. Not onto it, but really close.
“You,” you whimper.
“No, no,” Lando tuts, “What do you want me to do?”
Lando his question makes you silent for a bit. He moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. According to you, it’s absolutely unfair what he’s doing to you. How can he makes you feel like this with barely touching you? For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can ever makes you feel like this. You highly doubt it.
“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t help you,” Lando teases you. 
“Fucking tease,” you groan.
“Tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease.
You let out a soft trail of whimpers. “Please Lan,” you softly say. He just shakes his head. “Can you please do something about it?” You continue. Lando shakes his head again. “Fuck Lando,” you groan, “just lick me please.” That seems to work. Lando doesn’t reply verbally, he moves his head as close as he can towards your pussy. 
He finally starts to do what you asked him. You remind yourself to tell him what you want sooner the next time - knowing Lando, he will be acting like this a whole lot more. Lando slowly licks around your vagina. He makes sure to lick every part of it before turning his attention to his clit. Still teasing you. When he finally reaches your clit, he presses a soft kiss against it. When you want to let out another beg - for Lando to finally do something, he already starts to place soft, small licks onto it. He’s making sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants to do this right. He wants you to enjoy this just as much as he is doing right now. When you let out multiple moans, Lando increases his pace a bit.
In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings his finger to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows really well how much he’s teasing you, but he can’t help himself. He loves the way you response to him and the soft begs that are leaving your lips. All because of him. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you use when you beg him for something. Lando wants to know for sure that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him. 
You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint and finally puts his finger inside. Maybe even more then one now that you think about it. Lando doesn’t respond to your earlier movement. You open your eyes, which you had closes the whole time. To your surprise Lando is already looking at you. Staring even. Before you speak up, you admire the way he looks between your legs. You move your hands to his curls, softly tugging on them. 
Lando still makes soft licks onto your clitoris. It’s making you feel all kind of things. Sometimes he switches a bit and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, those are the best. Even though you still want more. Greedy, isn’t it?
“Lan,” you speak up with a soft voice. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. “I need more,” you tell him. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment when you tell him that. Lando removes his mouth from you and takes a good look at you. His fingers replace the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as his tongue.
“More?” He asks you. 
“Please,” you beg.
“Tell me what you want babygirl,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are trembling over your lips like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it and enjoy every small detail again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before.
“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips. 
“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess.
Lando still doesn’t give you what you want. “Ask me,” he tells you sternly. 
“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks. Before he can react to you, you’re already add another few words. “Please Lan?”
His boner almost explodes when he hears to soft ‘please Lan’ coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore. He’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hear hard moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s already getting addicted to the sound of your moans? He wants to be the only one who ever hears these sounds coming from your lips. He never wants to share this sound with anyone else. 
Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and outside of you. It doesn’t take him long before adding another finger. He increases his pace and really starts to finger fuck you. In the mean time he focuses on eating you out. He softly sucks on your clit. It makes you almost scream from pleasure. 
“Fuck Lan,” you moan when he sucks even harder on your clit.
He doesn’t response verbally, but he keeps increasing his pace. He even adds a third finger. Your wells are starting to clench around his fingers more and more. Patiently he waits for you to come. He feels your clitoris starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself. 
“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking even harder. He moves his fingers even faster inside you. He gives all his attention to the soft, spongy spot inside you. You let out another hard moan. 
“Can I come?” You suddenly ask him.
Lando feels overwhelmed by your sudden question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. You’ll literally be the death of him. While Lando doesn’t know how to respond at first, you are having more trouble with holding back your orgasm. The waves of pleasure are already hitting over you in a fast pace. You’re really close.
“Lan?” You quickly ask, hoping that he will respond to your question.
He removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. Not any longer then necessary. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you before taking your clit back in his mouth again. Softly sucking it before licking it with a fast pace. He focuses his gaze on your face. He can’t look away from you. When your orgasm hits you, Lando notices everything about it. He sees the way you close your eyes when the first waves hit you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple soft moans. When you press your legs a bit more together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future. 
Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your wetness off his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly let your body rest against him. 
“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”
Lando shows you a small grin. “Glad you liked it,” he says. His cock is still throbbing inside of his race suit. “You taste better then the champagne,” he tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he’s quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint tase of your own slit on his tongue combined with the bitter taste of champagne. 
Then you notice Lando’s bulge in his race suit. Did eating you out make him this hard? You let your hand rest on his boner. 
“Maybe I can do something for you as well,” you tell Lando with a soft voice.
“I wish,” he grunts almost annoyed, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”
“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest. 
“I like the way your thinking babygirl,” Lando softly laughs. 
“You still deserve a celebration as well,” you tell Lando. 
“Believe me babygirl, this was a whole celebration,” he confesses, “Next time I don’t even want to stop after your first orgasm.”
“You think I can cum more then once?” You ask confused.
“Add a lesson about overstimulation to your teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend the whole evening between your legs and pull every orgasm out of you that you have. Leaving not even one of them for anyone else.
“Deal,” you react.
Lando can only smile after that. How did this even happen to him? It feels like he’s living his dream, but when he thinks about the fact that you’re still ‘just friends’ they shatter apart. 
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sorrelchestnut · 1 year ago
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I've seen a fair number of posts both here and on reddit that question why Tav (or the Dark Urge) would end up as a group leader for any other reason that "game mechanics say so." There's the requisite "okay, well if you play a high charisma character I guess it makes sense," or on the other end of the spectrum, "if you're playing Durge and murder someone right off the bat everyone would be too scared to tell you no." And I get where people are going with this! I really do. But it also fundamentally misunderstands a facet of human nature, which is that the vast majority of people do not actually want to be in charge, because that means being held responsible for the outcome. Accordingly, most people will dither when a group consensus is needed: have none of you ever tried to get a group of friends to agree where to go for dinner? Yeah, it's like that, but waaaay worse.
A lot of times "leadership" is just the willingness to say, "fuck it, y'all do what you want, but I'm doing this." I see it all the time in a corporate environment, where people will go back and forth on group meetings without anyone making a decision until finally one brave soul goes "in my opinion the clear answer is x" and then everyone gratefully goes along with it. Because now it's not their responsibility when something goes wrong! They're just following along with someone else's suggestion, and maybe it works or maybe it doesn't, but at the end of the day they don't have to worry about the consequences unless they're personally affected. In which case they might step up and argue back, and then they're stuck being a leader, too. Welcome to adulthood!
Lae'zel is the only one who ever even tries to exert some kind of control, when she tells you to follow her lead on the ship, or calls you her subordinate in the Grove. But, crucially, she doesn't ever make any serious attempt to take control: you can just tell her, "lol, no," and she sort of confusedly gives way, because she doesn't know how to handle this scenario. In her world there are commanders and subordinates, and everyone knows where they stand and falls in line. She's never actually had to take control of a situation and so at the first sign of resistance she falls back on the dynamic that's familiar to her, which is executing the commands of someone older and more experienced. She goes through a lot of growth over the game, to the point that she can take over as a resistance leader in her own right by the end, but at the beginning she's a wet-behind-her-ears private with some decent combat chops and it shows.
Otherwise, your party consists of:
Shadowheart, who's trained in infiltration and assassination and does NOT want a lot of attention brought to her or her mission for a variety of reasons;
Astarion, who has literally been a slave for two centuries and canonically takes a while to realize that he can exert an opinion beyond complaining about it;
Gale, whose only friend is his cat and couldn't project-manage his way out of a wet paper bag;
Wyll, who was probably trained for command at one point but has been doing the lone-hero thing for a decade and has a very large secret that he's trying to conceal; and,
Karlach, who's only ever been a bodyguard and a soldier and is genuinely just happy to be here.
Honestly, it would be more a surprise if Tav/Durge didn't end up as their unofficial leader, given the general power dynamics at play. The first time Tav/Durge says something like, "fuck it, we need to do something instead of stand around arguing about it, let's go check out those ruins over there," it's a done deal. They're The Captain Now! As long as they don't make decisions that fundamentally oppose something dear and important to the other group members, they're not even going to get any argument. Because at the end of the day, not one of these walking disasters has enough trust in themselves and their decision-making skills to feel any kind of certainty that they can choose the right path forward. If someone else is going to take that decision out of their hands? They're going to follow, no questions asked, right up until the moment they can't.
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junqkook · 8 months ago
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— ROTTENFOLK: AFTERMATH (m.)
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PAIRING. jungkook/reader, taehyung/reader GENRE. faerie au, angst, smut WORDS. 10,234 RATING. explicit
SYNOPSIS. six years after escaping from the faerie realm, you’ve done everything to hide yourself and your son from the high king. but you should have known he would never let you go so easily.
CONTENTS. boyfriend taehyung, faerie king jungkook, human reader, mother reader, father jungkook, kidnapping, manipulation, slight dubcon, riding, grinding, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe!), rough sex, hair pulling, biting/marking, possessiveness, accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, infidelity, multiple orgasms, hinted f/f, pregnancy, multiple smut scenes (!), overstimulation, fingering, dom jungkook.
NOTES. this is a sequel to rottenfolk. i highly suggest reading rottenfolk before reading this one. Y’ALL GOT ME MISSING THIS WORLD, so i gave in to my own desires and wrote this. i’ll warn you all now: this is not a happy story.
EXTRA NOTES. UNRWA; Care for Gaza; Direct Aid For Gaza. please consider donating to and/or sharing these organizations.
— rottenfolk. rottenfolk: aftermath.
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Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you from behind and you giggled, leaning back into his chest. The smell of breakfast filled the kitchen and your boyfriend’s warm lips pressed chaste kisses against your neck.
“Missed you this morning,” he murmured.
You hummed and closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of him. “I woke up early and decided to treat my lovely boys to breakfast today.”
Taehyung chuckled and pulled his mouth away from your neck, resting his cheek against yours instead. “You know what Soobin told me last night?”
“What’d he tell you?”
“He concocted such an imaginative story,” your boyfriend of three years started, a lightness to his voice that comforted you. “Said he saw magical creatures in the forest by the park that knew his name—”
Your eyes shot open and you tensed in Taehyung’s arms. “What?”
He continued without noticing your reaction. “Yeah, he was telling me all about these—actually kind of grotesque now that I think about it—”
You whirled around in his arms and faced him. “When did he tell you this exactly? Where?”
Taehyung cupped your face and smiled at you. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Don’t worry, it’s just a story, he was probably watching YouTube or something and got the ideas—”
“Tae,” you pressed. “I’m serious. Please answer me.”
He held up his hands in defense and nodded. “Okay, okay. He told me while we were walking home from the park yesterday. He was really excited about it and said the fairies told him they’d see him again. It’s nothing bad, sweetheart. He’s just a five year old with an active imagination.”
You cursed under your breath. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
Taehyung shrugged and crossed his arms. “I don’t know, it didn’t seem like pressing information to share. And you were dead tired when you came home, so it must have slipped my mind.” As he watched you flutter around the kitchen nervously, he continued. “Can you tell me what’s going on with you right now?”
You sighed and faced your boyfriend. “Remember when I told you about Soobin’s father?”
Taehyung pursed his lips. “Yeah. You said he’s dangerous.”
“He is,” you said. “I didn’t think he’d find me, or even be interested in it, but—he doesn’t know about Soobin. And I planned to keep it that way.”
“Okay,” Taehyung replied slowly. “So what’s changed?”
“Everything,” you whimpered. “If Soobin said that to you, it means his father knows about him. It’s… his people,” you said carefully. “They’re the only ones who would tell Soobin that they’re magical creatures and—if they know about my son, it’s only a matter of time before he knows, too.”
Taehyung rubbed his temples, making sure to keep his voice low. “So, what do we do now?”
Before you could answer, the sound of padding footsteps through the house interrupted your conversation. “Mama, good morning!” Soobin’s sleepy voice called out. He appeared from behind Taehyung, rubbing his tired eyes.
Scooping him up into your arms, you pressed kisses to his chubby cheek. He murmured half-heartedly and buried his little face into your neck. The tips of his growing horns pressed into your skin lightly. You smoothed down his dark hair and gave Taehyung a pleading look.
“Morning, little man,” your boyfriend said, patting your son on the back. “You ready for breakfast?”
Soobin sat up in your arms, turning his small body to look at his surrogate father, who had been in majority of his life. “Yes,” he mumbled, squirming until you set him down so he could grasp at Taehyung’s large hand. “Good morning.”
You watched Taehyung lead him over to the table, helping him scoot his chair closer to the table once he was seated. Hurrying, you brought over your boys’ plates and then went back for yours. Soobin and Taehyung waited for you to be seated to start eating.
“S’good, Mama,” Soobin said around his food.
You smiled. “Thank you, Binnie,” you replied. You almost had no appetite, the thoughts of Jungkook swirling in your head. You hated that your chest still ached, even with the years distancing you.
The day passed achingly slowly, every minute and every second feeling like an eternity; every sound and every shadow brought with it a wave of anxiety that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You felt bad for not allowing Soobin to go with Taehyung to the store, ignoring his pouting with a heavy heart.
Finally, when it was time for bed, you tucked Soobin in with a kiss to his forehead. He looked up at you with his eyes that were so like his father’s, pupils slitted like a cat’s, that you couldn’t help the wave of fear that shot through you. But you knew Soobin wasn’t like Jungkook, no matter how much he grew to resemble him in his looks with every day.
“Binnie,” you whispered, sitting at the edge of his bed while your hand stroked the strands of his dark hair. “I love you.”
He gave you a smile that was so soft, you hated yourself for seeing any part of Jungkook in him. “I love you more, Mama.” You chuckled, your worry easing a tiny bit. “I don’t know why you were sad today, but tomorrow will be better!”
You blinked back the tears that you could feel prickling in your eyes. “I know it will be,” you answered him, leaning down to press another kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby.”
As you stood, you noticed Taehyung smiling at the scene from the doorway. “Night, little prince,” he said to your son. The word jabbed at your ribs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe for a moment.
“That’s a new nickname,” you managed to get out between your nerves.
Soobin giggled from his bed. “The magical faeries called me that!” he said excitedly. “Wouldn’t it be so cool if I really was a prince, Mama?”
You turned to give him a strained smile. “It would be so cool, Soobin.”
“So cool,” he repeated, his voice trailing off as his eyes shut. “G’night, Tae.”
When you shut the door of his bedroom, you nearly collapsed—if it hadn’t been for Taehyung’s arms wrapping around your waist, you would have dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
“What’s wrong?” Taehyung whispered in panic as he held you up. You tried not to cry into his chest, finding comfort in his arms for a few agonizing seconds before you stood completely.
“Nothing, just—I’m fine,” you lied. “We should go to bed.” Taehyung’s lips pursed, not believing you for once second. “Please,” you whimpered.
With a sigh, Taehyung nodded. “Okay, okay. Let’s go to bed.”
Once in your own room, Taehyung’s warm body against yours, you rolled over until you were on top of him. He gazed up at you with hooded eyes, his hands finding purchase on your hips.
“I thought you were tired,” he murmured.
“How can I go to sleep when my man is laying there, looking that good?” you teased, wiggling yourself until you were slowly grinding against his clothed cock. He groaned and you could feel him hardening underneath you. With a shudder, you started grinding yourself against him harder, the friction delicious against your clit.
Taehyung’s hands slipped under your shirt and dragged it off your torso, your hips never stopping their movements against him. He sat up in the bed, his hips rocking up, and his mouth started sucking one of your nipples harshly. You pushed yourself off his lap for a few seconds to rapidly tug your pajama pants and underwear off, pulling Taehyung’s sweats and boxers halfway down his thighs as well. His cock was hard and red and you wrapped your hand around the length of it, pumping it quickly.
“You’re so hot, you know that?” he groaned against your breast, flicking and twisting your other nipple with his fingers. You tried to keep your voice down as you mewled, pushing yourself flush against his body and guiding the head of his cock to your slit. You rubbed it against your slit a few times, the head bumping into your clit with every drag, before you started to lower yourself onto it.
“You’re so big,” you panted into his ear, the burn of his cock stretching your walls making you clench tightly.
“No matter how many times I fuck you, this pussy is always so tight for me,” he grunted, grabbing for your hips and removing his mouth from your chest. His fingers dug into your bare skin and you sank down completely, shivering and clenching his cock inside of you.
Taehyung’s fingers found your clit easily after years of learning your body and he started to rub as you ground your hips into his. Soon, he was thrusting up into you roughly, his fingers on your hips helping you move up and down to keep pace with him. You gripped his hair and tugged his mouth to yours, kissing him deeply, the slap of your skin against his filling the room along with your little noises.
You orgasmed quickly, your wound up body giving way to pleasure easily. As your walls spasmed around his snapping hips, Taehyung cursed under his breath and held you down on his cock as it twitched, spurts of hot come filling you up. He didn’t stop grinding you against him while he rode out his own release, his fingers sliding down to play with your clit.
“Taehyung,” you whined, “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he mumbled against your shoulder, his eyes shut while he savored the feeling.
You couldn’t help your bucking hips, chasing the feeling of his fingers pressed against your clit. You blinked your bleary eyes open and glanced toward the window, meeting cat-like eyes that startled you into a second orgasm while the head of Taehyung’s spilling cock continued to rub against your g-spot.
You had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the shout that tried to tear itself out of your throat—a mix of fear and pleasure.
Rocking your hips against Taehyung’s softening cock inside of you, you wrapped your arms around him and kept his head buried in your chest as he pressed kisses to the tops of your breasts. Your eyes never left the ones staring back at you.
Jungkook watched you with heat in his gaze, even though the rest of his face seemed as through he were bored and uninterested.
The shockwaves ran through your body, igniting every nerve in your limbs while your boyfriend’s cock slipped out of you, his come following. Your breaths started to quicken when Jungkook’s form left your window, and for a second you thought you might have imagined it. For a second, you let yourself breathe.
Then you realized he had moved toward Soobin’s window, on the other side of the hallway.
With a small yelp, your throat closed up and you couldn’t breathe. Taehyung lifted his head, startled at your sudden sound, and you ripped yourself away from him, not even bothering to clean the mess dripping between your thighs as you hurriedly dressed yourself, moving at a speed you had never moved before.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, tucking himself back into his pajamas and shifting off the bed.
You didn’t have time to answer him, messily dressed now. Rushing to the bedroom door, you yanked it open and sprinted to your son’s bedroom, heart pounding and blood rushing through your ears.
You threw open Soobin’s door and for a second, time seemed to stop.
The window was open and Soobin was in front of it, Jungkook leaning against the windowsill from outside. Your son turned to look at you, surprise etched into his features, and Jungkook’s eyes found yours for a second time that night. Beside each other, the two looked so alike that you wondered how you had deluded yourself into believing they would never know.
“Sweetmeat,” Jungkook’s voice drawled, your body shuddering on instinct alone. You couldn’t stop shaking, rooted to the spot as his hand settled on top of Soobin’s head. “It’s been a while, I see.”
“Mama!” Soobin cried out, a smile pulling his lips up. “You know faeries? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Jungkook,” you choked out, taking a step into the room as Taehyung’s footsteps sounded behind you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, every atom in your body completely focused on the father of your child. “Get away from him.”
The faerie king hummed and he moved his hand down to Soobin’s shoulder. “I will not.” Those eyes that were the same as Soobin’s darted down to the young boy before darting up to yours again. “All these years, you’ve kept him a secret from me.”
Taehyung was behind you now, his voice shouting something at Jungkook, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart and the sweet voice that came from the faerie. You were already inside the bedroom, Taehyung right outside the doorway behind you.
“Close the door, ____,” Jungkook said softly.
Your body moved on its own, shutting the door before Taehyung could force his way in.
“Now lock it.”
You locked it.
Taehyung’s panicked voice and slamming hands against the door barely registered in your head as you turned to face Jungkook.
“Jungkook, please,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes. You took a few steps forward, stopping only when you saw his fingers tighten around Soobin’s shoulder. “Please. He’s my son—”
“And mine,” he interrupted harshly. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed when your breath hitched, Soobin’s wide and curious eyes turning toward him once again.
“You’re my dad?” he asked quietly.
Jungkook’s eyes seemed to soften for a moment. You thought it must be a trick of the moonlight. “I am,” he told Soobin. “And I’ve come to bring you to your real home, where you belong.”
“Mama can come, too, right?” he asked, glancing at you before looking at his father.
“Of course,” he said easily. “She is mine, after all, until she draws her last breath and an eternity after.”
He tilted his head and then beckoned you over. You dropped to your knees, wrapping your arms around Soobin and yanking him away from the High King.
“Please, Jungkook,” you whimpered. “Please, leave us here. Leave us alone.”
Jungkook’s eyes hardened and his hand shot out like a bolt of lightning, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt and dragging you toward the window roughly. Soobin’s small hands dug into your shirt and you heard him make a distressed noise where you had tucked him close.
“Do you forget yourself, human?” he growled, voice dangerously low. You could feel the anger simmering under the surface, unlike anything you had seen from him years ago—he had always been indifferent to you, never angry. You supposed it was only natural after finding out you had kept Soobin a secret, no matter how unnatural Jungkook was. “Answer me.”
“No,” you said shakily. “I am yours.”
“You will be returning with me to the Faerie Realm,” he snarled. “If only because my son has wished for it. You belong to me, sweetmeat. You are mine to do with as I please.”
“Yes,” you replied quietly, never looking away from his slitted eyes. “I am yours to do with as you please, my king.”
“Now get up and come.”
You did as he asked, rising to your feet and releasing Soobin from your grip, though he kept his hold of your shirt as he looked between the two of you. You couldn’t stop your body from removing his hands from you, even as your hands shook and your breath caught when he begged you not to. Your fingers didn’t even twitch when Jungkook lifted him out of the window and kept him on his hip. You followed immediately after, surprised when Jungkook grabbed a hold of your upper arm and maneuvered you on the branches so that you didn’t fall over as the three of you descended to the grass.
Jungkook kept a tight hold on Soobin’s hand as he led you two away from your home. He didn’t need to keep any kind of grip on you—he knew you would follow him, unable to refute his orders, especially not when he was leading your child away with him.
You didn’t look back at the house once.
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The sounds and smells of the Faerie realm was something you hadn't realized you had missed so much. Nostalgia for the years you had spent among these fair folk blossomed in your chest, flowering through your skin until you could feel the tingle in your fingertips.
The faeries through the forest watched the three of you with wonderous eyes, all colors and shapes, the whispers like the sound of bees buzzing through the night air. When you looked at your son, his eyes were taking in everything around him with delight and curiosity.
Soon enough, you were walking up toward the palace that you had known so well before, familiarity settling in your bones as you took the trek.
"Soobin," Jungkook said softly—you didn't think that the High King could ever sound so soft while speaking. "Do you want to see your room?"
"Jungkook," you called, taking a few steps toward them so that you were right behind your husband and the faerie king.
His cat-like eyes cut to you, not nearly as soft as they were when looking at your son, and you hesitated to reach out to touch him. Your brain was screaming at you that any move you made would be a terrible idea.
"You'll wait your turn, sweetmeat," he said to you with a smile that could carve through flesh. "Though I thought you would remember where your place is here."
"Of course," you replied quickly, simmering down so as to not scare Soobin with your own fear.
"Mama," your son said excitedly, his small hand still gripping Jungkook's. "This place is so cool! Why didn't you tell me you knew faeries?" he questioned.
Looking at him now, your heart ached for the way you, too, had once looked on in amazement and only excitement in this realm. What would this place, with its cunning smiles and sweet dangers, do to him and his precious, innocent smile?
"I'm sorry, baby," you cooed, dropping to your knees on the ground in front of you and cupping his face in your hands. You brushed his dark hair back, fingers trying not to bump onto his little horns—they had always been sensitive to the touch. "The faeries have just been so busy, I haven't seen them in so long and forgot to tell you about them."
"Can I play with them?" he asked.
"No—"
"Of course—"
You and Jungkook cut yourselves off, meeting eyes as Soobin looked between the two of you. You could almost see the thoughts swimming around in Jungkook's head, as if deciding what to say. You were too afraid to make a sound, furrowing your brows a bit and hoping that he would have some sense to how your child had been raised so far.
"Why don't your mother and I discuss that and let you know tomorrow, okay?" he eventually said, smiling sweetly at your son—his son. Soobin nodded ecstatically, throwing his arms around you for a tight hug. You squeezed him close to you, kissing the top of his head. "Now say goodnight and I'll show you to your room."
"Goodnight, Mama!" Soobin exclaimed, letting go of you quickly and slipping his tiny hand back into his father's. How were you going to explain everything to him?
Jungkook paused to look back at you as you were getting up from your knees. "I trust that you remember where your chambers are?" he inquired, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
Your cheeks flushed with heat and you willed them to go back to their normal color, not wanting to look embarrassed in front of your son. "Yes," you eventually choked out, ignoring the quiet chuckle that Jungkook let out, leading your son down the hall and towards whatever room he had assigned for him.
Sighing, you turned to the other side of the hall, ashamed that your feet did remember the way to Jungkook's chambers, where you always slept, ready to embrace him into you night after night. And you hated that your groin tingled at the memories, the release from earlier still sticky against your skin, even as it dried.
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"Sweetmeat," Jungkook cooed as he came into his chambers, a devilish smile playing at his lips.
Your cheeks flushed as you sat on the bed, ashamed at your own body for reacting to his voice like this. The memories flooded your brain, every muscle in your body thrumming as you expected his touch.
"Well," he said, now standing in front of you and his hips sliding between your knees. "I see you have become forgetful in your time away," he murmured, his fingertips brushing your cheek and then tucking your hair behind your ear. "Usually you would await me with nothing on that smooth skin of yours."
You cleared your throat awkwardly as you looked up at him, your legs automatically spreading wider to make room for him to stand between them. You bit your bottom lip and couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his palm, his skin warm and so familiar to you.
"I can't," you whispered, shutting your eyes so you wouldn't see the look on his face.
To your surprise, he leaned down so that his nose brushed yours. Against your better judgement, you let your eyes flutter open and you met his slitted eyes, soft as they looked at you. There was no rage or wrath.
"Why can't you, sweetmeat?" he whispered back, every word making his lips brush against yours lightly with how close he was. You took in a shaky breath, leaning back on your hands to try to put distance between the two of you. "Don't you want me to have you?"
"Yes," you replied on instinct, screwing your eyes shut as his body pressed against yours. "But Taehyung—"
Jungkook's thumb pressed against your bottom lip, stopping you. Your eyes opened again, watching how his were trained on your mouth. "No need to worry about that human," he told you. "You were always mine first." Before you could object, he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips—you never thought you would receive a simple peck from the High King, whose touch had always been so rough and ragged on you.
"I—" You breathed against his mouth, leaning in for more of his kisses. He stayed just out of reach and it felt like a punishment. "I want you," you whimpered, letting one of your hands come up to cup his cheek. You met his eyes shyly, a spark traveling through your abdomen at the dark way he looked at you, like he wished to devour you. "I want you," you repeated.
"You'll never be anyone else's," he said to you as he crawled over your body, gently pushing you back onto the lush mattress. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he tugged your baggy shirt over your torso, revealing your bare breasts to his gaze. "I simply allowed that mortal to loan you," he growled, leaning down to nip at your hard nipple.
"Yes," you sighed, your fingers digging into his dark hair. "I'm only yours." His mouth enveloped the tip of your breast, biting down around the areola and making you hiss from a mix of pain and pleasure. "I belong to you."
Jungkook pulled your sweats down your legs, lifting his head from your chest for only long enough to remove them completely and undress himself as well. Your eyes marveled at his body, not realizing how much you'd missed looking at it. Of course, you couldn't help but let your eyes trail down to his cock, which was already hard and you could feel the tingling between your legs.
His smirk widened as he grabbed your thighs, yanking you towards him until the underside of his cock was pressing against you. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.
"You don't need to be loosened, do you?" he asked sweetly, though you could hear the tinge of mocking in his tone. You'd heard it so often, right here on this very bed, that you could detect anything in Jungkook's voice.
Your cheeks were hot. "No," you whispered, shaking your head. "But I should clean fir—"
"No," he replied, rocking his hips toward you playfully. "I'll fuck you right now."
You wanted to protest, still dripping with Taehyung's cum. A pang of guilt throbbed in your chest, but the ache of desire drowned it out quickly. Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly pushed the length of his cock inside of you, a groan leaving his lips when he bottomed out.
"How are you still this tight?" he asked you, almost incredulous. "Just fucked and still this tight around my cock?"
Clenching around him, your eyes rolled back as he pulled out only a few centimeters before pushing back inside slowly. "I can't help it," you whined, spreading your thighs further apart until your knees were about to touch the silky bedcovers. "You make me this way."
When you met Jungkook's eyes, they were dark and hungry. "You're so wet," he told you, his fingers finding the flesh of your hips and digging into your skin. "I'm going to replace all this cum inside of you with my own."
Before you had a chance to say anything, or even start to feel a shred of shame, he pulled out almost all the way and then shoved himself inside of you, starting a brutal and quick pace. The bed was already shaking with the force of his movements, and your hand darted to your mouth for something to bite down onto.
As he thrusted into you, the lewd sounds echoing in the bedchamber and cum dripping past his cock and down your skin onto the bed, all your thoughts melted away. You had missed him. You'd missed everything about him—your body had missed him. Logically, you knew that this was wrong, that you had finally managed to find peace with the family you had created—but now—
"Jungkook," you moaned, releasing your hand from the bite of your teeth, and slid it onto his shoulder. "I need you—"
"Of course you do, sweetmeat," he cooed, though you could feel the shiver that went through his body. "You belong to me."
You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer to your body. One of his hands moved up from your hip, his palm dragging lightly against your bare skin, cupping your breast and squeezing it in his hands. You whimpered and he pinched your nipple between his fingers, almost too painfully, but you liked it—maybe a little too much.
When his hand moved higher up your body to your neck, squeezing it gently while he shoved himself deeper and deeper into you with every thrust of his hips, you couldn't help the wanton moan that ripped its way out of your throat. Your legs tightened around him, trying to hold him inside of you forever while you twitched and squirmed, your orgasm building quickly and intensely.
"That's it, sweet thing," he purred, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, using his other hand to push your thigh up so he could shove it in further while you came, clenching around him sporadically. "Did your human make you feel this good?"
"No," you croaked, seeing stars. "No one has ever made me feel this good." And you weren't lying, even though the guilt had started to eat its way through the pleasure in your abdomen.
Jungkook hummed and then started up his agonizing pace once more, making your body squirm and your toes curl.
"I can't," you begged, hands lowering to the bedsheets and clawing them in your fingers. "It hurts—"
"You can," he replied smoothly, and the head of his cock brushed the sensitive spot inside of you. You clenched hard, a cry falling from your mouth. "You will, human."
He pulled his cock out of you and when you looked down, it was wet with a mix of your slick and the cum that had still been inside of you. You didn't have the energy to feel embarrassed, though your cheeks did flush a little hotter than before. In one fluid movement, Jungkook turned you onto your stomach, his hands finding purchase on your hips and pulling them up so that your ass was in the air and your face was pressed against the bed.
You felt the slide of his cock back into you, eyes rolling back and fingers gripping the sheets. As it filled you, the squelch of it entering you again filling the room, Jungkook fisted your hair in his hand and pulled your head up.
Your body was still reeling from your orgasm—the second one that night—so you could do nothing but let him hold you in place there, a little moan coming out of your throat with every harsh thrust.
"That's a good girl," he groaned, his cock twitching inside of you while his thrusts started to slow down. "You always did take my cock so well for a human."
"Yes," you whispered, feeling a little bit of your spit on the corner of your lip. "It's all for you."
Jungkook moaned, shoving your head back down onto the bed, fingers still tightly gripping your hair. The slight pain from his hold mixed well with the pleasure of him rubbing against that spot inside of you over and over until you could barely take it.
"It's like you were molded for me," he said roughly, his body towering over yours as he tried to bury himself inside of you as far as he could go.
"I was," you said in a broken whimper, and you felt the twitch of his cock, followed by a spurt of his release, hot inside of you and filling you completely.
He rolled his hips a few times, and while still inside of you, his hand released your hair and curled around your torso, fingers finding your clit immediately. Your eyes widened for a second, the feeling of his fingers moving against your clit mixing between pleasure and pain. While his seed slipped past his cock and down your thighs, the feelings all crashed into you at once—guilt, pleasure, pain, shame, tingling—and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his hand and orgasm a second time.
When you were done, seeing stars behind your eyelids, he finally pulled out of you, letting his seed spill out of you and allowing your body to fall completely against the cool bed.
Turning to face him as he laid next to you, you couldn't even muster up a smile. Even with sweat on his face, his dark hair clinging to his skin, he still looked beautiful and ethereal.
Jungkook's eyes met yours and you couldn't stop your panting, your body completely spent—you couldn't even bring yourself to care about the mix of your slick and his seed still dripping out of you and onto the bed.
"Are you spent, sweetmeat?" he asked, a smirk starting to play at his lips.
You sighed and nodded, eyes still focused on his. "Yes," you replied slowly. "It's been... A long time," you settled on, not sure how to navigate your absence, even if he had originally allowed it.
"Well," he said gleefully. "You will get used to it again, soon."
It was then that you realized you couldn't see his other hand. When you let your eyes follow his arm down to his hand, you realized it was stroking his still hard cock, your slick and his come mixing all over it. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes widened—though, you could already feel the heat of desire in your belly and the tingling between your thighs as you clenched and unclenched around nothing.
"We are going to have so much fun, sweetmeat," Jungkook snickered, rolling over towards you to lick into your mouth.
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The music and feasting was something you had missed, watching all the faeries let loose and be themselves, as grotesque as that might look to your human eyes. Jungkook had seated you at the table, taking Soobin away to introduce him to others and show him around a bit.
You were dressed in a gown made of silk, the neckline dipping almost halfway down your chest, but still covering your breasts from view—Jungkook could be possessive when he wished.
The faeries had given you looks, some with curiosity and some with suspicion—others even with pity, if you weren't completely delusional. Your eyes stayed trained on your son, who was learning how to play a game from the other young faeries around him.
"He belongs here," Jungkook whispered in your ear, spooking you for a moment. You looked up at him as he grinned at Soobin, watching him still as he took his seat beside you at the table, his hand patting your thigh before resting on the arm of his chair.
"I didn't think he'd fit in so well," you admitted, unable to stop the smile on your lips and the softness in your voice when Soobin laughed, holding hands with a young faerie who was dripping sap from their limbs.
Jungkook hummed and lightly tapped your chin with his fingers, turning your face to look at him. "Eat," he said flatly. "You belong here, too."
You swallowed nervously. Your eyes darted down to your plate, full of deliciously smelling food, the aroma calling to you. "Jungkook," you whispered, looking back at him.
His fingertips were so soft against your skin that their presence there could've been a hallucination—but you could feel a razor sharp tingle where they touched you, a subtle threat in the gentleness.
"Jungkook, when will we be able to go home?" you asked quietly,
Though his face hadn't changed, you could feel the tension settling in between your bodies. He hummed and let his fingers drag down from your chin to your neck, and then further down to your collarbones. You shivered, letting your eyes flutter shut while they continued their way down between your neckline, every touch of his igniting the nerves in your body.
His hand shot up and gripped your throat, startling your eyes into opening. He didn't tighten his hold, simply keeping a slight pressure on your neck. Jungkook's expression was wicked—and cruel.
"This is your home," he cooed, though nothing about his tone was soft. He leaned in closer, bringing you closer in as well with his hand around your throat. Your breath caught and he brushed his nose against yours lightly, eyes never wavering from yours. "I thought I did well to remind you of that earlier, sweetmeat."
Heat flooded your cheeks, traveling down your chest and between your thighs. You clasped them together instinctively and shuddered when you saw Jungkook's gaze glance down towards your legs.
"Should I remind you here, sweetmeat?" he continued, snickering at the way you were going pliant in his grasp. "Shall I show my court who you belong to?"
You wanted to say yes—everything in your body was craving him already, wanting every bit of him all over you. And to have every faerie in his court watch as he took you—over and over again—you could barely resist the temptation.
But you couldn't give in right now.
"I want you to," you whimpered, shutting your eyes again as he leaned in closer, licking your lips lewdly. He bit your bottom lip and you gasped, allowing him to press closer, kissing you lazily. His hands released your throat and moved back to the nape of your neck, holding you in place while he kissed you.
"Ew!" a voice exclaimed, a voice that was too familiar—and the entire reason you were planning to refuse his tempting offer.
You tore yourself away from Jungkook, who looked puzzled. "Binnie!" you breathed, shifting in your seat. "What's up, honey?"
Jungkook's hand stayed firmly in its place at the back of your neck, hot and heavy.
"Mama, what are you doing?" your son asked, crinkling his nose up in disgust.
"Your dad and I, we just—we just missed each other, that's all," you explained quickly. "Sometimes adults do that when they really love each other!"
Soobin frowned, tilting his head to the side. Before he could ask anymore questions, Jungkook smiled down at him. "Why don't you go to bed, Soobin?" he said, though you could see even your son, at such a young age, instinctively knew to heed his king's command.
An older faerie, one whose hair looked like sea moss trailing all the way down to its feet, arrived quickly and started to pull Soobin and the other young faerie with him away from the table.
"Wait!" he cried out, rushing over to your side.
You quickly enveloped him in your arms, raising him up to your lap. "What's wrong?" you asked, cupping his cheeks in your palms.
"You didn't give me a goodnight kiss," he pouted, wrapping his small arms around you for a hug.
"Aw, my baby Binnie," you cooed, kissing the top of his head. "Mama loves you so much." He looked up at you, his pouting lips still the same, and you kissed his cheek three times.
"I love you, too, Mama," he replied, leaning up to give your cheek a kiss as well. He looked over to Jungkook. "Can I give Dad a kiss, too?"
You hesitated, looking over at the High King, whose face was unreadable. Then, he opened his arms up in a welcoming gesture—Soobin hurriedly climbed down from your lap and rushed to his father, who gave him a peck on the cheek and ruffled his matching dark hair.
Once your son was bounding away, happily chatting with the faeries surrounding him, you sighed and turned to look at the High King, who you found already watching you.
"This is his home," Jungkook repeated harshly. You pursed your lips, hating yourself for the butterflies in your stomach when you knew Taehyung was waiting for you in the human realm. "Soobin belongs here." You didn't want to admit it, though you knew both of you knew perfectly well that he did fit in here—especially once his horns fully grew in atop his head. "Our other children will belong here, too."
Your cheeks flushed and your eyes widened, taken aback at his words. His face was unreadable, even after spending so much of your time with him. "Other children?" you gasped.
"Yes," he said easily, turning away from you and looking over the dancing and partying faeries. "I need many heirs."
A faerie took his attention before you could formulate any words in response to his statement, but you couldn't stop the pounding of your heart in your chest and the quick soar of elation that filled your head with dangerous thoughts—thoughts of the two of you together for the eternity you had promised to him, of you as his bride, of belonging to this world eternally.
You didn't see Jungkook for the rest of the night, but that didn't stop your imagination from running wild with the possibilities of your future together.
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The nights passed in a blur of music, little adventures with Soobin, and reliving your memories from years ago. You couldn't help but lose yourself in this world, fully immersed in the customs and life of Faerie—especially now that you were anticipating your new familial life with Jungkook, as he'd implied.
The door shut behind him quickly and you were already slipping the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, the glitter from the fabric sticking to your skin. It fell to the ground softly and Jungkook's hands were already running down your arms, his body right behind yours.
You turned your face sideways to glance back at him, heat already pooling in your lower abdomen at his touch.
"Lie to me, sweetmeat," he whispered, dropping his head to press kisses to your shoulder, nipping at the flesh with his teeth.
You shuddered as his clothed body pressed into your bare one from behind, the tickle of the fabric causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.
"I want to go home," you murmured, your body molding against his as he walked you forward, bending you over onto the mattress. He undid his pants, letting them fall to the ground, and slid his hard cock against your ass.
You whined and pushed back against him, not even embarrassed at how slick you already were. You were already clenching around nothing in anticipation.
"How badly do you want me?" he asked, keeping one palm spread on your back to hold you down. His foot kicked your legs further apart to open you up completely to him. "Do you crave me?"
You moaned as the head of his cock pushed into your folds lightly but pulled away before giving you what you wanted. "Yes," you said. "I've never stopped wanting you."
Jungkook finally—finally—pushed his cock into you, sliding all the way in easily. He said nothing for a while, simply groaning and thrusting in and out of you, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin against skin. You were gripping fistfuls of the sheets, even biting down on them when his pace became unforgiving.
"How often did you picture me when that human was buried inside of you?" he asked, and you could hear the large grin in his voice. You didn't answer, heat flooding into your cheeks. "Were you hoping it was my cock inside of you, filling you with my seed?" You moaned in response, clenching tight around him as he picked up his pace even faster, almost slamming his cock into you over and over. "Answer me," he growled, his fingers finding your hair and pulling your head up from where it was flush against the bed.
"Yes," you admitted, your voice shaking. "I wanted you to be the one fucking me—"
Jungkook's door opened and you flinched, though his grip on you didn't loosen and his movements only slowed, never stopping.
A woman came into view, though your eyesight was blurred and you had to focus them to see what she looked like.
"Ah, Wife," Jungkook purred, slowly pushing his cock into you so you could feel every centimeter.
"Husband," she replied easily, barely glancing at you.
You clenched around him from your shock, your little breathy sounds fading into the background. You couldn't stop your body from pushing back into him, wanton for him.
"What is it?" he asked, his hips still pounding into you from behind. You were staring at the woman, unable to take your eyes off of her as you took in her beauty. Her hair was a light blue, the very tips turning white and ending near her hips. There was a small golden crown wrapped around head, weaving through her hair like vines. Her ears were long and pointed—longer than Jungkook's ears.
"I see you returned your pet," she said instead, blankly looking over your form. You felt like you were being shown at an auction, but you couldn't muster up any feelings of shame, still used to the way the High King would keep you exposed to anyone who opened his door—even his apparent wife.
"I have," he returned gleefully, snickering. His cock slipped out of you with a lewd sound and his hands gripped your body, forcefully turning you over from your bent position so that you were laying flat on your back on the bed. You let out a small sound at the shift, but his cock was already burying itself inside of you again, brushing against your g-spot and making you moan loudly instead. "Isn't she exquisite?"
"She's very loud," his wife said plainly. "I can see the appeal."
Jungkook rocked his hips into you at a slow pace, one of his hands moving up to your breast and kneading it, pinching your nipple hard as you cried out, clenching and unclenching repeatedly.
"They require you in the meeting hall tomorrow morning," his wife continued. Jungkook merely hummed, his eyes completely focused on his cock disappearing into you over and over slowly. "Do not forget to attend."
"You should really try a human woman," Jungkook redirected, biting his lip and hissing as his bottomed-out cock twitched inside of you. You whimpered, unable to help the flush of arousal at the thought of her joining, memories of the others flooding your head for a few moments. You wrapped your legs around Jungkook's hips, pulling him tighter against you as he chuckled.
"I have humans," she replied, eyes running up and down your sweaty body and stopping for a few seconds too long on your breasts. "I find myself more inclined for the men of the species."
"Your loss," he grunted, grabbing your hips and yanking you harder towards him, picking up his brutal pace again and filling the air with the sounds of your skin slapping together. "Close the door."
You watched her nod her head towards him slightly before she retreated, pulling the door shut behind her. You could feel the orgasm building inside of you as he continued his movements, all your thoughts and words scrambled in your head.
"That's it, sweetmeat," he cooed, hissing as he rushed his pace. "Come all over me."
You moaned loudly at his command and felt complied to respond with your body, the pleasure tightening in your belly first as your orgasm hit you like a wave, shockwaves throbbing through your body as he continued to thrust into you through it.
"Jungkook," you panted, tightening your legs around his hips and fisting the sheets in your fingers as you winced. "It hurts—"
"Take it, human," he said blankly, his eyes focused on yours intently. You bit your bottom lip and shivered, trying to move your hips along to his bruising pace. "You're so good for me," he purred, leaning down as he stilled inside of you so that he could lick into your mouth lewdly. You could feel his cock twitch before he came, spurting his seed deep inside of you.
"Jungkook," you whimpered, arching your back, arousal swirling in your belly at the feeling of him releasing.
He shushed you as he rode out his orgasm, keeping himself flush against you even as he began to soften and his come started to slip out of you and down your thighs to the bed. As you kissed him back, licking back into his mouth and running your fingers through his dark hair and touching his horns lightly, causing him to growl against your lips, you couldn't help but remember the faerie that had stopped by.
"You're married," you whispered against his lips.
He pulled back just enough to look at you and a razor sharp smile was present on his mouth. "Yes," he said. "The High King must be wed for the future of Faerie." When you didn't say anything, pondering his words to you earlier, he continued as his finger began to trace your cheek. "Did you think I would marry you, sweetmeat?"
Your cheeks flushed. "No."
Jungkook laughed loudly and then pressed a harsh kiss to your pouting lips. "Humans are so fascinating when they lie," he finished, and you could feel him getting hard again inside of you. You squirmed underneath him as he kept you pinned down, a gleeful glint in his eyes as he watched you.
"Again, Jungkook?" you whined, though you were already clenching around him and rocking your hips up into him, your body begging him to start moving again.
He hummed and grinded against you slowly, enjoying the sounds your sticky bodies made with every movement. His hand came to grip your face and he held you still, pulling his cock out halfway and then sliding back in slowly. "I will keep you here, bred and ready for me for eternity," he said roughly, the head of his cock brushing against your g-spot again and making you mewl. He took the opportunity to lick into your open mouth.
When he released you, you sighed against his lips and pressed your thighs against the bed to allow him in deeper. "For eternity," you promised.
Jungkook's hips bucked into you and started another brutal pace, filling the room with your moans for the rest of the night.
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"Soobin!" you called, running your hand down your belly bump and feeling the fabric of your dress, like silk, cool against your palm. Each of your fingers was adorned in rings, some metal and some vine. "Bring your brother and sister from the trees."
Your oldest son rolled his eyes, his horns curled backwards and ears almost as long as Jungkook's. He was taller than you now, his growth spurt hitting him years prior, and you couldn't help but smile at him sweetly as you made your way to the long table. Jungkook was seated at the head of the table, your family feasting inside the castle on a rare occasion. His wife was seated to his right and you made your way to his left, huffing as you struggled to sit comfortably.
Jungkook's smile to you was as sweet as it could be. "They should be content to play," he started, but you tutted at him and leaned back in the chair.
"I want them to have some connection to human manners," you replied easily, already used to having the same conversation every time you ate inside.
"I think it's good for them," Hana said, interjecting for once into the conversation.
You nodded your head at her, gesturing. "See?"
Jungkook sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest. "Yes, yes, go ahead and gang up on me."
"Daddy!" your daughter called out loudly, the rushed footsteps of her and her siblings filling the hall as they ran over to the table. Jungkook immediately opened his arms and let her jump into his lap, running his hand down her long dark hair. "Minnie hit me!"
Jungkook hummed, looking over at his two sons as they took their seats beside you, Soobin first. "And what did you do back?"
Ha Yoon smiled wickedly. "I bit him."
Jungkook and Hana laughed. He let her down from his lap, patting the top of her head. She bounced over to you, pulling on the tips of your hair the same way she used to as a baby. You lowered your head as much as you could and then winced when she nipped at your cheek with her sharp teeth. She giggled when you returned it with a kiss to her head and then rushed over to sit beside her brother.
"Soobin," Jungkook started as the servants, a mix of faeries and humans alike, began to place the food on the table and into your plates. "Have you thought about Hana's proposition?"
Soobin perked up, though your body tensed. Jungkook's eyes cut to you for a brief second, noticing your reaction, before he returned his gaze to your son.
"Yes," he replied, his voice much deeper than it had been when you'd returned to Faerie. "I'd like to go."
You bit the inside of your cheek and shoveled a spoonful of food into your mouth, now used to the wonderfully rich tastes this world had to offer you.
"Wonderful!" Jungkook said, smiling widely. "The carriages leave tomorrow for the Court. You'll go with them."
"My brother will teach you well," Hana said, smiling at Soobin sweetly. She had been like a second mother to him all these years, so you understood that your anxiety was rooted in nothing but jealousy and a wish to keep your children near you. "Oh, and Jungkook," she continued, turning her attention to her husband while you fussed over Soobin and Minhyuk.
"Yes, Wife?" he hummed, making a face at his daughter, who looked the most like him out of the three children.
"I'm pregnant," she giggled.
Jungkook's ears twitched and he turned to her quickly, all sounds quieting in the hall. "You are?"
"Yes."
"That's wonderful, Wife," he said smoothly, reaching over and holding her hand in his. You eyed their intertwined fingers and rings with a rush of jealousy, but the anxiety in your chest worsened. "Faerie will be full of my children's laughter."
They looked over at you expectantly. "Congratulations, Hana," you gulped, smiling as wide as you could to mask your fears.
She smiled tightly back at you, her eyes darting down to your own pregnant belly. "Thank you," she said.
Jungkook reached over and took your hand in his so that he was holding both of your hands. "We will celebrate and have a feast tomorrow with the courts," he said. He squeezed your hand and then released Hana's first, using his now free hand to pat your arm before he let go.
"So we're going to have another brother?" Minhyuk asked, speaking for the first time since he sat down. Your middle son was rather quiet and looked more like you than his father, though you didn't think Jungkook minded. He spoiled them all the same.
"Or sister," Hana told him, her face back to the usual stoic expression that everyone was familiar with.
"And it'll be two of them," you told him. Minhyuk tilted his head and then went back to his food, shoveling it in ravenously.
"And there will still be time for more," Jungkook said wickedly. "From both of you." His foot bumped into yours and you looked up at him through your lashes, arousal swirling between your legs when he winked at you and reached over to rest his hand on your thigh. Hana gasped and you looked over to her, watching how her cheeks flushed pink and you could see that Jungkook's other hand was below the table in her direction as well.
He released both of you again and continued his food, the children chatting with each other and him, mostly, excited to have their father's attention since most of his morning and afternoon had been spent in his office and among his advisors.
Once the children were done with their food, they excused themselves from the table and went to go continue playing. Soobin decided to go off on his own from his siblings, but you still had no idea where he went on nights like these; Jungkook always quelled your worries, telling you that he was at that age now where he should be left alone when he needed to be, instead of fretted over.
Jungkook gestured for you with his hands and you rose from your chair, moving over to stand in front of him. He placed his hands on your belly, eyes devouring you in a way that made you want to push your thighs together for relief. He smirked.
"Have they told you what it is yet?" he asked.
"No," you replied quietly, glancing over at Hana. "They say it'll be another boy."
"Faeries and their theories," he sighed, though his tone was fond. "We'll be visiting the Unseelie Court in a few days," he continued.
"Me as well?" you asked, confused. Usually him and his wife went, but you stayed here.
"Yes," he said. "Hana will be going with Soobin. You will come with me."
You bit your lip as his hands started to travel down your dress, using his fingers to pull the fabric up higher and higher, pulling you closer to his lap as he did so. Even after all these years, he was still insatiable.
"I will go prepare and find Soobin," she interrupted, standing up and dragging your attention away from Jungkook.
He stopped her for a brief second, though his hands continued their work until your dress was lifted enough for him to slide his fingers along your unclothed folds, gathering the slick of your arousal on them before he pushed two inside at once, making you whimper as you leaned back on the table.
"Be ready for me tonight, Wife," he told her. She nodded her head.
Then she took a few steps forward, leaning down and pressing her lips to yours. You gasped into her mouth, letting her tongue press against yours as Jungkook snickered from below you, continuing to work his fingers in and out of you. Hana pulled away with an obscene pop of her mouth, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and make you hiss, clenching around Jungkook's fingers.
"I will be," she told him after, leaning down and kissing him harshly. He groaned and rubbed his thumb against your clit with every lick of her tongue against his. Then she pulled away and left the hall, you suspected to her own quarters.
Jungkook pulled his fingers from you and put them in his mouth, licking your slick off while he maintained eye contact with you. He let go of your dress, letting it drop back down to cover your legs, and stood from his chair, walking past the table and looking back at you.
"Come, sweetmeat," he commanded you. Rushing forward as fast as you could in your condition, you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to lead you out into the hall. Jungkook took the opposite turn from the hall leading to his bedroom, instead leading you towards the doors that led into the massive back gardens of the castle, one of your favorite places. You could feel your cheeks flushing with excitement already, knowing he was going to splay you out for anyone wandering the garden to see.
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Your packed suitcase was ready beside you, but you ignored it and spent your time fixing Soobin's shirt collar and patting down his hair. He shook his head around, huffing as you fussed over him.
"Mom, I'm not going to be gone so long," he protested, though his voice was soft. You frowned, letting your fingers run through his dark hair one last time before you lowered your hand.
Hana flicked his nose lightly, earning a noise of complaint from the now young adult. "A mother worries, Binnie," she chided him. You smiled lightly when he lowered his head, mumbling an apology to you at her words. He held your hand lightly and pressed a kiss to the back.
"My sweet boy," you said almost tearfully, bringing him in for a hug even though he stood much taller than you. He wiggled uncomfortably, trying not to press too hard against your belly as he returned the hug. "Be safe."
He pulled back with a large smile. "You, as well."
Jungkook arrived, pressing a hand to the small of your back to nudge you forward. "Let us go, sweetmeat," he told you, still using his favorite nickname of yours after so many years. "Yeon will care for the children while we are away."
You looked back, waving to your other two children, who were still so young they couldn't care any less about all of them leaving for about a week's time. "Take care of him, Hana," you said quietly, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.
She smiled pleasantly. "As I always have," she replied, returning your squeeze.
Jungkook ruffled Soobin's hair. "Do give them some trouble," he said wickedly, sharing a similar smile of mischief with his oldest son. He leaned over and pressed a long kiss to his wife's mouth, sliding his hand to the back of her neck to keep her close while Soobin started to put their bags in their carriage. When he pulled away, her lips were plump and red from his.
You waved to them as they got in and the drivers led them away, your own carriage pulling up to the front and the servants opening the door. Jungkook easily tossed the suitcases in and then helped you up, always more caring and careful when you were carrying his children. He slid into the seat beside you, never preferring to be across from you like in the shows you had always seen, even if sitting beside each other was more cramped.
"Do not worry, human," Jungkook told you blandly, not even looking out of the window as the carriage started to move, taking you away from the place you had become so familiar with. "We will only be visiting a few days and then we will be back with our children."
You couldn't help but take his hand in yours, thankful he simply opened his palm and let you intertwine your fingers together. "I know," you said, leaning over and resting your head on his shoulder.
As the carriage continued on, you dragged your free hand down your belly nervously, hoping that all your fears concerning the courts were unwarranted and simply human anxieties.
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all rights reserved © junqkook | 13 MARCH 2024 | the reposting/modifying of any kind on any medium is strictly not allowed. translations are not allowed.
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pure-smut · 3 months ago
Text
say red.
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featuring: Iwaizumi Hajime x f!reader
contains: academic rivals to lovers, dom!Iwaizumi, rough s*x, degradation, dirty talk, creampie
note: all characters are over 18!
MDNI | 18+ content
word count: 2k
series: 1. say red | 2. say red | 3. say red
masterlist
You’d never paid attention to Iwaizumi Hajime. Just another face in the lecture hall, another voice answering questions, another serious guy with a serious face taking things so seriously.
It’s only when you’re paired together to work on a semester-long project that you pay attention to him for the first time. And wow – he’s fucking annoying.
“We need to meet up more than once every two weeks,” Iwaizumi tells you, frowning at your suggestion. “We won’t get enough done before the deadline.”
“It’ll be fiiiine,” you sigh. “The project barely contributes to our grade. All we need to do is pass.”
Iwaizumi narrows his olive eyes at you, entirely displeased.
“How are you,” he bites out. “… top of the class?”
You give him a sweet smile, throwing up a peace sign.
“Because I’m great, obviously.”
You had somewhat noticed that Iwaizumi’s name was always second below yours whenever test scores were published. It’s clear that’s a sticking point for him because he clenches his teeth so hard, you can see a muscle bouncing in his jaw.
“We’re meeting up twice a week,” Iwaizumi says, standing. When you open your mouth to protest, he gives you a hard look. “That’s final.”
You roll your eyes and shrug.
“Fine, fine.” A grin crawls across your face. “Iwa.”
He shoots you a disgusted look.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What, Iwa? It’s cute.”
Iwaizumi pokes his tongue into his cheek and rolls his eyes skyward.
“Whatever.”
With that, he gathers his bag and stomps out of the lecture hall. Your gaze follows the back of him as he disappears, the smile only slipping off your face when he leaves.
“So annoying,” you mutter to yourself, packing up your own things.
But it’s only until the end the semester. You can grin and bear it that long. Plus, it’s like you said before – the project barely impacts your grades. Iwaizumi might want to force you into way too many boring meetings but you have absolutely no intention of cooperating.
*
Iwaizumi messages you his address and a time to come round to work on the project.
Gotta buy a girl dinner first before you invite her to your bedroom, you message him back. He ignores you.
Like most other students, he lives on campus with a few other roommates. You half-expect to see them when you arrive at Iwaizumi’s but he tells you he’s chosen a day when everyone else is out.
“I need some peace and quiet if I’m dealing with you,” Iwaizumi says.
“Flattered,” you reply.
His room is neat and tidy, a smattering of volleyball trophies on the shelves. You vaguely remember that he’s on the college volleyball team but you didn’t know he’s good enough to have trophies. You smooth your features into something neutral so he doesn’t know you’re impressed.
You both sit at his desk, where Iwaizumi’s already set up notepads, pens and sticky notes.
“You’re prepared,” you remark, eliciting a heavy sigh from Iwaizumi.
“I’m sure it seems that way to someone who doesn’t even bring a pencil to class.”
You swing side to side on his wheely chair as Iwaizumi launches into his plan for the project, talking you through the list of bullet points. You make noncommittal noises, your eyes drifting off.
He has kind of a nice face, you think, your gaze dropping from his short dark hair to his sharp jaw. Iwaizumi’s wearing a t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest, the sleeves tight around his biceps. Damn, he’s pretty built, too.
Iwaizumi continues talking as your mind wanders. You wonder if he’s a good kisser. Hmm, probably too serious for that. Only chaste tongueless kisses and missionary in the dark.
You grin at your own thoughts and Iwaizumi stops talking mid-sentence.
“What are you laughing at?” His brow furrows. “You’re not even fucking listening.”
“Uh, no, not really,” you admit, throwing your hands up in defeat.
“Jesus christ…” Iwaizumi puts his elbows on the desk, digging his palms into his eyes.
He wants to launch himself out of the window. How is it possible that you of all people beat him in class? He freezes when he feels your finger trail over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Iwaizumi looks up.
“You’re so tense,” you say. You’re not lying – Iwaizumi’s muscles are like boulders. You give his bicep a poke and realise there’s almost no give. “Maybe that’s why you’re taking this so seriously.”
“You’re just taking this too lightly,” he says, frowning.
You’re looking at him weirdly, your eyes locked onto his, and the way you’re touching his arm is making his cheeks feel warm. What the fuck is going on?
Iwaizumi’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard and you smile, knowing you’ve got him. You stand up to move over and put yourself in Iwaizumi’s lap instead. His thighs are as hard as the rest of him and it feels like sitting in an actual chair. You wrap your arms around his neck.
“You’re kind of cute, y’know,” you say, cocking your head.
“Kind of,” he echoes, giving you a flat look. “Thanks.”
Iwaizumi’s hand rests on your thigh despite his unimpressed tone. You give him a sweet smile and trail a finger along his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there.
“Maybe you need some stress relief, hm?” you suggest, dragging your finger down to his hard chest.
“And you’re offering?”
“I thought you were supposed to be smart?” You cock an eyebrow. “Obviously, yes.”
Iwaizumi regards you, eyes sharp, and your breath hitches. Your smile nearly falters but you save it in time. It feels like he’s looking through you, into you. It’s a struggle to hold his gaze but you’ve never been one to back down. So you look right back at him.
Iwaizumi’s eyes soften and you see him smile for the first time. No, he smirks.
“Say red,” he tells you. “And I’ll stop.”
“O-okay.” You’re annoyed at yourself for stammering but something’s changed with Iwaizumi and it’s thrown you off.
“Repeat it back to me.”
“If I say red, you’ll stop,” you tell him and he gives a short nod, satisfied.
“Good.”
Iwaizumi stands abruptly, picking you up with him and throwing you on the bed. You yelp at the sudden movement, bouncing softly against the mattress.
“What-?”
You don’t have time to ask what the fuck is happening before Iwaizumi’s on you. He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly. He pushes his body between your legs, forcing them apart to accommodate his thick frame.
One of Iwaizumi’s hands grabs your hip as the other snakes around your throat, holding you with enough force for you to feel it but not so hard you’re gasping. His soft lips are in contrast to the sharp stubble scratching your skin, his tongue sliding over yours.
Okay, I might have been wrong, you think. There’s nothing chaste about this.
Iwaizumi grinds his bulge against your clothed pussy, now exposed to him as he tugs up your dress. The friction through two layers of fabric is teasing, making your hips buck, desperate for more. You moan into his mouth and he squeezes your throat.
“Needy little slut,” he says roughly.
Iwaizumi’s degrading words only serve to turn you on even more. His voice has completely changed, now deep and throaty and utterly commanding. Iwaizumi keeps one hand around your neck as his other reaches down to unbutton his jeans.
“Is this what you want so badly?” he says as he pulls his cock free.
You gasp as it slaps against your mound, sending a spark of pleasure through you. You try to nod but Iwaizumi has your throat in too tight a grip.
“Use your fucking words,” he spits. “Tell me.”
“Y-yes, I want it. Please, I want it.”
Iwaizumi reaches down and you hear a violent rip. You’re not able to look down, your head fixed in place, but there’s a cool breeze across your exposed pussy. Your mouth drops open as you realise he’s ripped your panties clean off.
Iwaizumi smirks at your reaction.
“You act like a slut, you get treated like one.”
The Iwaizumi you knew before, so serious and studious, is long gone. You look up at him, his eyes feral, and realise you’ve severely underestimated who you’re up against. He lines up the fat head of his cock with your dripping hole.
“Look how fucking wet you are already.” Iwaizumi pushes himself inside you and you give a choked moan at the feel of him stretching you. “You don’t even need me to get you started, do you? You’ll spread your legs for fucking anyone.”
Iwaizumi’s flurry of degradation is making your pussy drool for him, only spurring you both on. But a nugget of defiance forms in your chest, even as tears stick to your lashes.
“This what your needy little pussy wants?” he demands, pushing in deeper to bottom out.
His cock feels so fucking good, dragging against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you to make your whole body feel like it’s on fire, but your determination not to let him take over fully kicks in.
“Y-yes, Iwa,” you breathe out.
Iwaizumi’s jaw clenches.
“I told you not to fucking call me that,” he grits out.
As if to punctuate, he starts to pound at you hard. Every slam pushes you closer to the edge, sending a jolt through your body to the tips of your toes. His large hand around your neck is delicious, pinning you beneath him as he fucks you raw. You sink your nails into his forearm, lustful whimpers falling from your lips.
“S-sorry…” you gasp. “… Iwa.”
Iwaizumi growls, moving faster and setting a brutal pace.
“Fucking brat.”
You don’t have the strength to talk back anymore. Iwaizumi’s cock is pulling you to the edge, making your eyes roll back in your skull as he rips an orgasm from you. Your pussy clenches down like a vice grip around his cock and a moan escapes Iwaizumi’s throat.
“Fuck… fuck…” he groans.
Iwaizumi fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, wanting to watch you bounce under him. Your walls are so slick, so hot, so fucking tight. You’re tearing down all his restraint, moaning so sweetly even as his fist is wrapped around your throat. He knows he’s not going to last much longer.
“I’m… gonna cum…” Iwaizumi says, voice hoarse.
“Inside me,” you plead. “Cum inside me, Iwa.”
Your words tip him over the edge.
His grip tightens on your neck, almost making you dizzy, as he thrusts once, burying himself fully. The moan he makes as he comes undone inside you is intoxicating, satisfying in a way you can’t explain. Iwaizumi’s chest heaves as he half-collapses on top of you, his arms shaking as he holds himself up.
Neither of you say anything, breathless and sweat-slicked.
“Well.” You break the silence with a grin. “I dunno about you but I definitely feel better.”
Iwaizumi’s serious face returns as he rolls his eyes, pulling away from you. He tugs a few tissues free from a box on his nightstand, handing them to you first before himself.
“What a gentleman,” you coo, cleaning yourself up.
“It’s polite. I’m not a savage.”
“The way you fuck says different.”
Even though you’ve still got his cum spilling out of you, Iwaizumi’s ears go pink at your comment. He ignores you and buttons his jeans back up. Cute, you think with a smile.
You point at your destroyed underwear.
“And you ruined my panties. That was rude.”
Iwaizumi’s cheeks tint as he blushes harder.
“Yeah, sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll buy you a new pair.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Finished cleaning yourself up, you hop off his bed and straighten your dress. “I’ll just make sure I’m not wearing any next time.”
Iwaizumi stills.
“Next time?”
“Duh.” You put a hand on your hip. “That was great, right? And my head feels totally clear. I think I’m actually ready to listen to your project plan or whatever.”
You take a seat at his desk, hands clasped demurely on your lap and smiling sweetly.
“Twice a week you said?”
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dee-morris · 11 months ago
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Crackish Theory
but not really but maybe? Let me work through my thoughts and then you help me decide how serious I am.
I had a Shower Thought today about this ask.
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"Never quite as good as he likes to maintain." Neil has also said that Crowley is an unreliable narrator when it comes to his Fall, and we know from the show that his story keeps changing. He sauntered vaguely downwards, he did a million light year freestyle, he only asked questions but he also rode into battle during the War. Hm.
My initial thought was that his memory had been fucked with, and he genuinely doesn't know. And this could still be true, probably is true, but I was scrubbing conditioner of of my eyes this afternoon and just started to wonder if Crowley actually did something Bad to get the boot?
I don't think I've ever seen anyone suggest this before, which is INTERESTING. We've collectively agreed that he's just a sad wet cat who would never hurt anyone, but my niblings in Christ, he turned a bunch of paintball guns into real rifles bc he thought it was funny. (I'm convinced that the only reason he made sure nobody died was the Look Aziraphale gave him.) Muh point izzz, what if he committed an act of sabotage in the course of investigating or poking around or building a suggestion box or whatever he did to get answers that pissed off the Metatron?
Or maybe he was a spy. Remember his Bond fixation? Maybe he worked undercover for Lucifer bc he was promised answers that the Almighty wasn't giving up. Once you let go of the idea that he's just a wee soft boi who only asked questions with big sad Puss in Boots eyes, the possibilities are endless.
As are the fic ideas. I think I've got enough material here to keep me entertained until filming starts, at least.
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