#yeah it would have rewired his brain

[livinginadumpster]

the more I watch this episode the more I love this sequence. it's so important for the development of crystal and edwin's relationship, and I feel like it highlights their similarities so well, in the ways they think and act and also how they both just care so much.

both plagued by their respective hellish encounters, both so caring and so deeply kind despite their histories, both so willing to do anything to close this case; they initially bond over their fear of losing charles but it quickly becomes so much more than that. their dynamic works so well. I love it so much.

[reitziluz]

mogh's theme is in my top three for the entire elden ring ost and it's one of the few songs i risk my eardrums for because it needs to be blasted real loud to properly hit.

there's basically a single word sung in it that kills me. in second phase, when after the drop it goes quiet, instruments drawing back and the low voices reducing in number (maybe there's only one mainly heard?) and sounding personal and up close instead of grand and ceremonial and preaching.

and then at the end of a line there's a word that kinda sounds like "praetori" and the lilt of it. sounds like such adoration. disney princess lifts a forest critter on her palm and nuzzles it to her cheek.

combine that with how the low and high voices interact, what the bells are doing. it's so rich in implications.

idk man. the whole thing sounds so much like a monologue (switching to a dialogue, or asides responding to commentary at times) and i keep hearing so many different types of speech in it. makes me want to use words like implore and beseech.

and then the ending is like hands reaching toward the light only for it to cut off.

no amount of pomp nor fervor could save mogh from being an omen.

[dandyshucks]

me waking up at 6am this morning and immediately having the thought "maybe Guz still gets angry a lot because strong emotions are difficult if not impossible to control esp if its rooted in abuse trauma BUT he learns how to apologize, and thus - especially in the beginning - he would lash out as an automatic response but quickly realize what he's doing and apologize for it and we'd move on and be okay" like it had been beamed into my brain from some divine source.

also junebug (waves. thats literally just me.) would have to do their own hard work to learn to not automatically fawn when someone starts seeming the littlest bit potentially displeased or unhappy (because that is unhealthy for all parties involved). they'd BOTH be putting in the work to make it work !!!!!! 🎉

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

He is like an angel to me <3

[courtneedsatoru]

Lovesick Puppy | FirstKiss!Satoru x Reader

Summary: Satoru never thought about kissing before, but now he can't stop thinking about how your lips would feel against his. Word count: ~2.1k

Art credit: @courtneedsleep [ me ;) ]

“Have you ever kissed a girl before?” Suguru asks his best friend expectantly.

“Even if I haven’t yet, I’d still be the greatest—“

“So you haven’t,” Suguru cuts him off and waves his hand dismissively. “Well that’s good. Shoko said she hasn’t either. Yet. Aren't you curious about what it's like?"

Well, Satoru had assumed he could just "take" you whenever he wanted, for lack of better words or timing. Technically he could get away with kissing whoever he wanted (Geto included) with the privilege of those blessed genetics. Satoru had not conscientiously thought about kissing you, already acting like you were his and he was yours.

Until now.

Satoru's fingers presses against his lips wondering if yours were softer than his. What if when he kissed you, his lips were chapped which you thought were repulsive? Pshh, no, that's ridiculous- his perfect lips were never chapped? His leg bounces up and down nervously. For the first time, Satoru was floundering.

. . .

Suguru had ingrained the idea of kissing you into Satoru's brain. Something inside him was rewired, and he could not seem to control it. Perhaps he didn't want to control it. Satoru sure didn't mind the way you had permeated all of his senses when he was daydreaming about you.

The sunlight kissed his skin, but it wasn’t the type of kiss that Satoru was craving for. He blinks the drowsiness out of his eyes. In his peripheral field, he freezes at the sight of your resting form slumped over the school desk. He should check what time it is, not run his fingers through the mess of your hair spilled across the surface.

Wait. What was he doing? Why did his hands move automatically to brush irresistible, silky locks of yours?

After all, weren’t you just his classmate? His pretty and smart classmate. His classmate who’s the only one who plays along with his teasing and returns those big goofy smiles back.

Yeah, just a classmate that he wanted to kiss senseless.

Satoru couldn’t help himself. Not when you looked so ethereal, so perfect like this. Not when your oh-so-kissable lips were just slightly parted just for him. Not when he was leaning closer and closer, just for one sample of a taste, his lips hovering right over yours and-

T H W A C K

“Had a nice nap, huh? You fool, you think you’re allowed to sleep in my class?”

Fingers drumming the weapon of choice (a textbook), Yaga throws Satoru a sharp glare that breached past both of their shades. Next to him, Suguru has a coy, not-so-innocent smile on his face.

“What were you dreaming about that made you drop your infinity, Satoru?”

Even without being present, you somehow managed to break through his defenses. Satoru’s barrier was no longer effective when you unknowingly decided to invade his mind and soul. If you were going to be a problem, Satoru is going to have to fix it.

. . .

“You should’ve seen me! I hollow purpled the shit out of that curse! It kinda looked like Suguru but more hair and wrinkly, even though they’re not that much different.”

Satoru follows you around on your campus stroll like a golden retriever with a helicopter of a tail that just won’t calm down.

“Of course, you always win,” you reply with a sweet smile that he could just drink up for days.

“That’s it??” A big pout creases his mouth. “Nothing about how strong or cool I am? Or handsome?”

Your sweet smile is immediately wiped off and replaced with a deadpan expression. “You don’t need my approval, Satoru. You already know that you’re strong.”

“Yeah, but what about cool and handsome? I know it, you know it, why can’t you just say it out loud?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“My bestest friend?”

“That’s Geto.”

“Just once.”

“That’s enough.”

Satoru wanted to whine and pout, but that would be terribly uncool of him in front of you. At this point, he was almost ready to beg but he had an even better idea.

“That’s fine if you don’t want to show me your affection with words. There are other ways too, you know.” His hand grasps your wrist so you can finally turn around and look at him to give him the attention he deserves. Satoru raises your hand up and ducks his head just underneath. He hums and relishes the weight of your hand against his face. “You should be more nice. You’re the only who’s actually gentle and kind with me.”

Oh. Did he just…

…

“You’re… impossible… and cute, I guess,” you concede not as begrudgingly as you intended to be.

“Cool, not cute,” he corrects. Satoru takes initiative, moving your hand back and forth so he can feel the friction against his scalp until you finally get the hint and pat his head for him.

He’s. Too. Cute.

“This is so uncool, Satoru,” you chide.

“I told you to praise me instead.”

“No.”

“I wanted a reward.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Do you want edamame-flavored mochi?”

“No.”

“???”

“I want a kiss.”

Shit, he didn’t mean that- the words just flew out his mouth without much thought. Your hand stops moving against his fluffy hair. Satoru’s heart bashes against his rib cage. Shit, shit, shit-

You suck in a sharp breath. “Satoru, don’t be a greedy shit. Let’s go get mochi.”

. . .

Satoru is a greedy shit.

He sits on your kitchen barstool watching you microwave popcorn, elbows propped up on the counter. The pout on his face was a thousand times more pronounced with the way his cheeks were smushed together against each palm of his hands.

"Jesus, I didn't know you wanted popcorn that badly." You shake your head oblivious of Satoru's heart yearning for something more than just playful elbowing and banter. No, he didn't want popcorn; he wanted you. The only acceptable way he wants that buttery treat is if you were the one feeding it to him with your lips, mouth to mouth-

Salty and sweet explodes on his tongue as a handful of popcorn is shoved into his mouth.

"Happy now? That should get you all fixed up. You're so out of it lately."

Body moving without thinking, his mouth latches onto your fingers before you get the chance to pull them away. He laps at them like a starved dog. His mouth is so wet and warm… and wet… the hot slick coating his tongue is all you could think about. Goodness, how much was he salivating earlier, and was this all really just from popcorn?

He cleans the butter off your fingers watching the entire time the way your pupils dilated.

“Mm, tastes so good…” His tongue swirls around your index finger for one last good measure. Even after pulling back, a string of saliva connects your fingertip with his tongue. “Even better like this. Can I have another one?”

“I… need to wash my hands.”

You hurry off to the bathroom gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles were turning white.

Breathe, you try talking yourself out of this haze of lust. But as soon as you close your eyes, Satoru’s lips puckering around your fingers immediately runs its course back into your mind. The temperatures, the textures, the need are vividly hardwired into your brain. Fuck, what if it was your own tongue instead of just your fingers? Your mouth waters at the thought.

Freezing cold snaps you out of your thoughts. The icy water runs for a while until you’re sure enough you can face Satoru again without crumbling in front of him.

Knock knock knock.

Or not.

“What are you doing? I know you’re not shitting.”

“How do you know that?”

“The faucet is running, and you said you’d be right back, not back in forever.”

You open the door and are met with an impatient Satoru. Not him having separation anxiety, whining and chasing his little tail around waiting for you. How the hell is this the same man who acts so independently and wildly and so sure of himself? He could do whatever he wanted, but everytime, he chooses to put himself in a frenzy all over you.

The two of you walk back to the couch for a movie night. But when you check the bowl of popcorn, it’s already empty? What the fuck?

“Satoru?” you ask already knowing what he’s gonna say.

“Yes, princess?”

“I want popcorn.”

“Mm, is that so?”

Someone wipe that smug-ass grin off his face. “There’s no more popcorn. I wanted popcorn.”

“You have popcorn right here, baby. Tastes exactly the same.” Satoru winks and taps his bottom lip. What a tease.

“I meant actual popcorn. Something I can actually chew on.” You walk up to Satoru, plopping the bowl of popcorn crumbs onto his lap. “Go refill it.”

“Who says you can’t chew on this? I don’t mind you being rough.”

Your nails dig into your palms, anything to distract the tumbleweeds in your stomach.

“Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart. You haven’t kissed anyone before?” Oh, of course, he already knows the answer. He just can’t help but tease you even more.

“Yes, actually,” you retort snidely. Satoru’s jaw drops prepared to accuse you for being a bit fat liar.

“Li- mmph…” But before he gets the chance to reply, you shut him up for good.

‘Rough around the edges’ was an understatement. It wasn’t smooth at all, your lips smashing against his, the inner part of your upper lip folding upwards and the bottom gnashing against his teeth. But neither of you couldn’t care less, whether it was an attempt to get a taste of that popcorn, silence that spewing mouth of his, or perhaps a mix of both. No, you shouldn’t lie to yourself. You’ve been aching to feel those plush lips of his against yours from the start.

Satoru groans. Fuck, right now he didn’t want your teeth, he wanted your lips. He pulls back just a centimeter away before realigning the two of yous’ lips properly and diving in for a proper taste. One he could savor and relish. The way you mold perfectly against him so deliciously shoots Satoru straight to heaven and back.

Your hunched form hovering over his wavered. Hands flying up to stabilize yourself, you grip his shoulders so tightly that your nails were sure to leave red marks on them. Satoru knocks the bowl off his lap, and the crumbs spill everywhere onto the floor and in between the crevices of the couch. How annoying it would be to clean up later. But it was completely worth it to pull you down and have you tucked into his lap, your thighs clenching each side of his own. He’s completely and utterly enveloped by your presence, something which he could bask forever in.

Wooziness begins to cloud your mind. A reminder that you need oxygen because you’re human. But Satoru clearly isn’t. The moment you try to pull back for a breath of air, he’s immediately chasing after you for more, more, more. His hands fly up to the back of your head and neck, lips clinging onto yours in heated desperation.

You can’t help but give in to this lovesick puppy. He’s licking, sucking, and nipping feverishly like a dog scarfing down his dinner and licking the bowl clean.

“More,” he whines and tries to kiss you again when you detach your lips with a loud pop. You turn your head away and block his lips with your hands before he devours you again. When he pries your hand off his needy mouth, you stand up and scurry away from him because you know he’ll never stop.

Satoru pouts at the loss of contact. “You didn’t like it?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that.” An evil grin takes place of that bratty pout. “…I j-just need a break. Please.”

Satoru eyes you up and down carefully. The sight of your disheveled hair and the flush that spread from your cheeks down towards what’s visible of your chest did unspeakable things to him.

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Your break’s over, princess.”

“What? Wait, hold on, just a minute-“

You backpedal a few steps back thinking Satoru would follow after you. But he doesn’t, just sitting there with his legs all manspread out waiting for you to take your rightful place on his lap.

“Cursed technique lapse: Blue.”

And in a blink of an eye, you crash face-first onto his lips for round two.

[blackwaves]

#btw this is why dazai sets him on atsushi #because atsushi is the reverse #he is entirely self preservation #he has trouble moving forward and he freezes #when dazai says “he's better than you” #that's what he means #he's saying see that? do you see that cowering weepy cat? that is the better extreme. #and then he keeps bringing them together because they need each other #atsushi needs akutagawa to be brave enough to act #and akutagawa needs to see what a will to live looks like from someone capable of absorbing the brunt of the fight #also as a reminder. akutagawa is not real. he is a seinen anime character with superpowers. #anime is a stylistic and exaggerated medium #do not work yourself up by dragging them from their context to frame their behavior as if theyre irl high school aged students #the pencil drawings are not hurting each other and cartoon violence is not 1:1 with real violence (tags from OP)

pm!dazai didn't abuse akutagawa. he reacted proportionately to the threat akutagawa posed to himself.

when dazai smacks akutagawa around in canon, they're running drills. dazai is not hitting him in misdirected anger or because he is venting his own suffering on him. akutagawa does not instinctually protect himself. in his fits of hyperviolence, he seeks to kill and be killed, and nearly is in beast, and in the course of his initial pursuit of atsushi.

he does not have the reflex or will or instinct to defend himself, and he is slow because he is having to consciously process the effort. his automatic reflex is to attack, but that will not stop him from being shot or overwhelmed or blindsided.

what they are doing in those scenes, what dazai is uniquely able to practice with him since rashomon can't pierce him, is not unlike cognitive behavioral therapy interventions. akutagawa is wired such that when he is triggered, he develops tunnel vision, pressing forward relentlessly without registering danger or responding to negative stimuli. this is a pattern developed from when he deemed dearh inevitable, and one which is liable to get him killed regardless of whether he has a reason to live.

he needs to consciously retrain his instinctual response, and he has to consciously and consistently reinforce it against his existing, much quicker instinct. he has to do it before he has the conviction or will to do it. and he has to do it over and over again, even when it isn't immediately life or death, because the instinct is self reinforcing, and the pattern he is trying to supplant it with is not yet.

skills are part of their users' framework for responding to their environment. jun'ichiro is anxious, but he can hide within light snow. kunikida has his notebook, but it has rigid limitations that he adapts to, similarly to how he works within the limitations of reality to keep from becoming consumed by his ideals.

akutagawa's skill, meanwhile, is wildly fucking disproportionate to akutagawa's constitution which is a problem when akutagawa wont react defensively. akutagawa is canonically frail, chronically ill, thin, and short (he's 5'8", but asagiri insists he's itty bitty every time he describes him in prose). rashomon, meanwhile, is monstrously powerful and hungry. it lends a false sense of untouchable violence when akutagawa himself is weak, and also is just really difficult to focus and control such that using it brings akutagawa into coughing fits. rashomon is also terrifying even in visage; it invites others to react with violence proportionate to their terror against the spectre of rashomon — but akutagawa is small, sick, and human; what is proportionate to rashomon is IMMENSE overkill if aimed at akutagawa. which is especially egregious because akutagawa will let them.

in other words, when dazai meets akutagawa, rashomon is as dangerous to its user as to anyone else. skills should not get their users killed. dazai is right. it's a shit skill.

akutagawa is vulnerable and self-destructive, and he and dazai are working to rewire his instinctual evaluation of his stakes. even when dazai punches akutagawa after akutagawa kills the mimic soldier, it's not a random act of violence or unregulated anger. the mimic soldier was not going to lead them to gide, there was no reality where they restrained him before he bit his cyanide, and he'd attacked dazai. but instead of reacting defensively at the opportunity, akutagawa fell to the former instinct, leaving himself wide open.

dazai reacts how he does because:

they are supplanting an ingrained instinct that is self reinforcing, the correction needs to be consistent to change the pattern and the former instinct needs to be discouraged with the same severity as the threat it poses;

by punching akutagawa first, dazai gave him notice and time to consciously muster the defense reaction theyre working on;

akutagawa needs to build an association between the defensive reaction and the triggering stimulus for this to work;

the context in which this happens is the exact sort of threat that rashomon is then ill equipped to handle— gide can see into the future, like oda, and mimic are military trained gunmen.

when dazai tells akutagawa that he couldn't ever defeat oda, he's not taunting him, he's right. akutagawa is relying on swift killing blows, but against someone who can see into the future, akutagawa is as vulnerable as a baby. and then, shortly after, that's what happens: gide wrecks his shit and is about to murder him dead when oda swoops in to grab dazai's dumb horrible baby kouhai who's trying to kill himself with the ambitious gusto of a horse.

as long as akutagawa fails to seek self-preservation, he is remarkably vulnerable. he's weak, and he's going to get himself killed. dazai doesn't coddle him about it for the same reason fukuzawa slaps ranpo for scampering into a police car with a murderer. you dont get praise for self endangerment.

dazai is not going to affirm a version of akutagawa that is trying to kill the boy dazai promised to save.

***

(also, this explains why akutagawa hates taking baths and being without his coat. dazai tried to instill in akutagawa the vigilance to register danger. in his absence, akutagawa strove to be worthy of demanding his approval by diligently practicing. but he's dazai's dumb baby kouhai who. takes things too far lmao.)

[fev3rish]

ULTRAMAN, I WON’T LAST! kenji spice w/ v

kenji gets nasty w/ u … but in a form he’s 135 meters tall in.

cw. kenji is so BIG, ultraman form! kenji, consensual, kenji is lowk a perv, kenji may be 50+ meters tall but that wont stop him from fingering u, praise kink intended, size kink, BASED OFF REQUEST FOR ANON so we’ll be seeing this idea again. thinkg of it like a sneak peak. pretend kenji can actually fit a little bit of himself inside of u pls. i am never beating the ultraman fucker allegations

notes. don’t look at me. infact, dont even read this

thinking about kenji fucking you in ultraman form…

kenji was yours. in every aspect, angle, and perspective possible— kenji sato was yours. he admired every trait you had like it was religion, adored all your flaws like they were perfection—loved you so much, it tore through him. he noticed every little thing about you; every little tic, every little sparkle in your eyes? it was only ever you.

only ever you.

when you first saw kenji in all his ultra-glory, you expected him to be a bit awkward. it was a big step for the both of you; kenji revealing that he was ultraman was hard for both parties, especially because of just how relied on he was. every kaiju attack led to yet another article on ultraman, and just how amazing he was. amazing, but unreachable. until now. now, he was standing right infront of you—sitting on his knees, looking down on you. all alone.

the jourwould kill to be in your spot right now.

his hand comes to rest onto the floor next to you, and you feel his gaze tightening—settling on you.

a target locked, and an arrow shot.

“come on, baby. come on—yeah, baby. yeah, like that. so good.”

a target locked.

his finger curled inside of you, and you shook even harder. “god, kenji—“ you cried, looking up at the gigantic man who had you stripped down bare while he, humiliatingly, kept not only his gear—but his ultraman form, too. your back arched as he tried to plunge in deeper.

“oh— oh my fucking— kenji.” contrary to your belief—kenji didn’t even have the tip of his pinky stuck inside you. he only had a quarter of his nail, and it was already tearing you apart. “kenji, i migh— i might… i might break—“ you babbled, and he tilted his head. you were sitting in the palm of his hand, literally, with his pinky finger’s nail (or where a nail would be) tearing you open and rendering you far more fucked out than you thought you’d be, making lewd noises in a place you’d never thought you’d make lewd noises in, and lastly—getting fucked by kenji in his ultraman form.

he pumped in, and out; your brain rewired itself.

suddenly, you couldn’t think anymore; not that you minded.

you knew kenji would take care of you.

he leaned in, his simple face practically towering over your entire person, and watched as what fit of his pinky worked you over and had you babbling.

“i’ve dreamed of this moment.” he says, to particularly no one—because you are so gone, you can only look up at him—“of seeing how much of me you could take in this form.” he continued, “i admit, i didn’t even think you could take my pinky or any part of my body at all. you passed my expectations, baby.” whether you were being mocked or not, you didn’t know or care. you feel so fucking full. “you feel small baby?” he asks, and then from there on—it’s just his voice.

“i asked you a question. you feel small, baby? always acting so high and mighty—always bossing me aroundd… guess you just needed to get fucked huh? wanted to be taken care of? i’ll take care of you. i’ll take care of you, baby. you don’t gotta worry.”

a target locked, and an arrow shot.

[ffsg0jo]

yeah manwhore gojo is great but what about touch starved gojo who fantasises holding your hand. spends his nights dreaming about the way you would feel cuddled in his arms. his entire face red and blushing at the mere thought of your lips chastely pressing against his. he can't stay thinking about that too long though because it'll result in him giggling and kicking his feet all night and getting no sleep.

gojo who sits downs next to you and almost combusts feeling your soft thigh lightly pressing against his. he just yearns to be close to you in any way possible. his leg wrapped around yours whilst you're sitting opposite each other, his pinkie always reaching for you. he's always blushy and giggly around you and it's the most adorable thing ever. this man loves you so much and he's not afraid to show it at all. he wears the simp title like a badge of honour.

it's not just physically either. he no longer thinks in his own voice. his entire brain has literally been rewired ever since meeting you. your voice is always replaying in his head, the way you say his name is on repeat 24/7. the sweet little nicknames you give him too.

like yes, he is your sweet little cuddlebug and he is your cutie patootie blue eyes white dragon. and he's so proud of it. yk those titles people have after their names like DClinPsy and MBBS, he has that in his bio too, but it's just silly little nicknames you've given him.

this man is a true loverboy through and through.

[hon3y-y]

your choso has rewired my brain...literally cant stop thinking about popular reader who has a new bf every week x virgin nerd choso who despite his inexperience has every intention to leave you dumb on the end of his cock. He even lets you slap his books down and talk shit about him with your little girlfriends in public, but behind closed doors you're the one crying and begging him hdjsjs definition of 'send her back to her bf w my handprint on her ass' aaaaa and if its a love story, it turns out chosos had the fattest crush on her bc he knows shes actually a sweetie at heart but loves her toxic side too and gives her the best dick until she stops playing around like THE REVERSAL 😭 he would be so sweet in his own way and so loyal and a fucking dog to her lowkey but covers it up with mean words and pussy slaps 🥺

Nerd!choso has a special place in my pants heart😵‍💫

Cw; nastyy smut, filming, infidelity(👀), choso is a little pervy but that’s why we love him🫶, talks of bodily fluids, reader is a lil mean

Enjoy<3

After the first time you fucked, he was extremely a little mad about you dating someone the next day (especially since it was his first time and you knew that) but quickly forgot about it once he had his head between your legs later that night, your mouth babbling nonsense when he sucked a little too hard.

He would purposefully leave hickies on your chest and thighs, smiling cheekily as he watched your shakey legs try to dress yourself. “Don’t look at me that way," you mumbled, your usual attitude gone and replaced with shyness under his intense gaze. Yeah, he didn’t have to worry.

Choso let's you get away with everything. the laughing, the pushing, and the taunts about how “small” he probably is from your friends (to which he nearly smirks when you stiffen slightly). He goes along with all of it and even watches you tongue-fuck your stupid boyfriend, who’s likely one hard hit to the head away from permanent brain damage. But he can’t stay mad; you look so cute trying to be tough. Eyebrows furrowed and a little hiss in your tone, knowing that the moment everyone disappears, you’re nothing but a sobbing mess, begging for him to touch you.

You’re in his room later, bent into a mating press, gasping for air as his cock clumsily batters your g-spot. “Yes—fuck, cho! "Your skin feels so hot, and your mind is so numb. Choso is nearly just as loud, already cumming two times, but watching you made it impossible to pull out. A sticky mess of both your fluids caused gooey strings to form whenever he moved away, the erotic sight making him pull out and reach for his phone. “W-what are you—"

You tried to sit up when the light of a camera flashed in your eyes, making you gasp before he tilted it down, focusing on your pussy. “Look at how wet she is.” He reaches out to touch, making your hips jerk in sensitivity. He plays with your wetness, making your cheeks hot, showing off the substance to the camera before placing his finger on your hole to tap at the new cream that seeped out.

You went to pull your legs closed. "E-enough, Choso." You sent him a glare, making him laugh before leaning down to kiss your cunt. He pointed the camera up to catch your shocked face, and you glanced at it again. “Why are you filming this? I never said—"

You squeal as he nips your clit, immediately shutting up but sending him a harsh glare. He kisses your thigh at your compliance. “Do you really not want me to?” He stared up at you, putting little pecks on your bud, making your breath hitch. You shook your head, ‘no’, “fuck, I don’t care, just make me cum,” you whine, pushing his head down. You jolt up, your eyes widening, when you feel the stinging slap on your pussy.

You’re about to speak when he does it again and again, each hit harder than the previous one, a yelp of surprise escaping you as he forces the light in your eyes again, making you squint. “You’re such a slut, it’s almost pathetic." His harsh words make you pout, mumbling about how mean he is. “I’m mean? Tell the camera why you came here.” You bite your lip, looking away, causing him to grab your chin and force you to look. “I’m not asking.”

It feels humiliating: “He couldn’t make me cum.” Your voice is quiet, but you could practically feel the cocky smile on Choso's face. “Who’s he?” You want to die, shaking your head. He rolled his eyes, tapping on your cheek to signal you to talk. With a sigh, you repeat yourself, “My boyfriend couldn’t make me cum.” Choso mockingly coos behind the camera, his thumb going to rub your swollen bud. “And how many times have you cum since getting here?”

He pans the camera back and forth between your needy pussy and pretty face, your sweaty skin glistening under the intense lighting making his cock impossibly harder. You look so delicate, just helplessly taking the pleasure he gives you because your body needs him so bad. Tears gather in your waterline whenever he applies more pressure, eyes zeroing in on the slick that starts to drip down your ass.

You can’t answer, your jaw hanging open when he quickened his pace. Your chest is heaving as you chanted out ‘please!’ hips thrusting up to meet him until you quickly cum with a shutter, choso slowing but not stopping as you relax again. You look up to the camera with a tired smile, holding up your hands to signal four, your eyes could barely remain open, head flopping back into the pillow. your eyes are getting heavy, nearly having you succumb to sleep when you feel his tip align with your cunt. “Flip over, slut.”

He forces you to film yourself as he pounds into you from behind, crying when he leans down to tug at your sore nipples. He forces your back to arch more, pathetically taking his cock into your swollen pussy. If you drop the camera, he’ll wait until you pick it up again. Or, he’ll snatch it from your hand to catch you desperately rutting against him, begging him to let you cum and “fuck you right." He does just that, leaving you with a fried brain and a puddle of your own drool, tears, and juices from how intensely he made you squirt.

Honestly, he’s so horny and has so much stamina he’ll just keep going until he’s shooting blanks, making sure to point the camera at the cum that leaks out of your puffy cunt, spreading your lips so it can closely get your gaping hole. Of course, after he’s had his fun, he’ll gently take care of you. You’re practically sleeping already, barely being able to speak as he nods along to your near incoherent praise, “S'good t’me. Luv you so much."He smiles, a giddy feeling in his tummy, as he holds a water bottle to your lips, which you gulp down quickly, not realizing how dehydrated you really were. He tucks you in, cuddling as you grip onto him tightly.

It’s not long after that you stop seeing the guy you were with, or any for that matter (at least, according to your friends' knowledge). When they ask what happened, you just shrug, making up some excuse, trying not to stutter as the vibrations in your panties speed up. Choso watches closely, smiling happily as you try to discreetly roll your hips<3

A/n: I need him so bad it’s getting to me. Also, send request bc writers block is a btch. Mwah💋

[dearest-nell]

here comes your man

s. harrington x f!reader, 2.1k

summary: you go to pick up your very drunk boyfriend from the bar after a well deserved night out warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns

a/n: i was half asleep when i wrote this so all i can say is my bad, and i hope my three am deleirum brings you some joy

Hey… you might wanna come pick up your Stevie-Boy. He’s a bit wrecked...

It was a phone call you had half expected, though you didn’t mind admitting that you wished it had not come at 3am on your Saturday night. Steve had been so excited for a night out with the boys – work seemed to be piling onto him more than usual, and more often than not you’d find him half asleep on the couch by 8pm, arm propped uncomfortably beneath his head and back twisting awkwardly. This night came along with the extra TLC you prescribed him this week, taking on a little extra responsibility around the house so he might relax even just for a moment. Steve was a caretaker by trade, and doing things for himself seemed to hark back to a time where he only did things for himself. It took a lot for him to rewire that belief in his brain – self care did not mean selfish, he was a good person. 

You thought that the time out with his friends would remind him of that; how wonderful he was, how loved he was. He could be without responsibility for a night and simply enjoy himself. And enjoy himself he was… you hadn’t heard such an amused lilt to Eddie’s tone for a long time. You spent the drive over pondering just what kind of state your boyfriend might be in, your eyes heavy, body cooling with the iced air that blew through windows opened in an attempt to keep yourself awake. Eddie at least had sounded coherent, so you figured you would not be alone in the battle to try and haul your boyfriend into your beat up car. 

Dressed for the comfort of your own home, it took one disgruntled look towards a stubborn bouncer to let you past without paying an entry fee. You wondered how often this happened – half asleep partners turning up moments before closing to take their inebriated darling home. The thought made you chuckle softly to yourself, body weaving through the stragglers of the night still dancing to a wrapping up DJ. 

Eddie had told you they’d meet you by the lounges when you arrived, though Steve was nowhere to be seen as you approached your tired looking friend, his face pleased, if not a little weary. 

“Where is he?” You questioned, letting Eddie lean down to wrap his arms around you tightly, his weight pressing heavier on you that you had expected under the influence of what you assumed had been many, many shots. 

“At the bar. I thought he’d crashed half an hour ago, but he’s had a second wave.” 

You felt the short burst of laughter bubble up, an unsurprised uh-huh leaving your lips at the notion, eyes drifting towards the thinning crowd collected for the last call. Eddie let you go with a shrug, stepping back to let you go. 

“Alright, I’ll go get him. I’ll wave if I need you, ‘kay?” The nod you received was answer enough, and you set off leisurely towards your unsuspecting boyfriend. 

Steve was half hunched over the bar, palm rolling an empty shot glass flatly across the sticky surface as he waited for an already busy bartender. You couldn’t see his face, but you could picture the expression with such clarity – eyes heavy, blinking slowly as they tracked blearily across the back of the bar, that sweet, contented smile plastered on his lips for no reason at all. 

Following suit, you leaned yourself up against the bar beside him, elbows propping you up to rest your head in your palms. 

“You getting another drink, handsome?” 

Steve made a soft sort of mumbling sound, his head lulling to the side as he leaned away ever so slightly. “Mm, yeah… think so.” 

You nodded, smiling at the way he swayed on his feet. “Oh, I see. You wanna have some water with me?” 

Steve rubbed harshly at his face, eyes screwing shut tightly before blinking hazily at you. “No, thanks.” 

His gaze turned away, his grip on the shot glass faltering for a moment, reflexes only just catching it before rolling over the edge. You reached slowly to pluck it from his hand, though he recoiled sluggishly at the contact, forcing your brow up into a curious arch. 

“How about I take you home, then? Seems like they’re wrapping up.” 

Steve sighed, hands running through his hair in that same familiar flustered motion you were so acquainted with. Ordinarily, Steve would have been bouncing out of his skin to see you, but right now, he seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else. 

“Look, it’s nice of you to ask, but ’m taken. My girlfriend’s comin’ to get me.” 

Oh, how sweet. You’d never seen Steve so far gone that he hadn’t recognised you, but now that you focused your own tired eyes, you could see that his own were barely open to begin with. Your smile widened, amusement settling over you at the sweetness of him. 

“Really? You’re not even gonna look at me? Maybe I’m worth breaking the rules for.” 

He scoffed at that, body straightening up as much as his addled state could allow, his feet stumbling beneath him to put another feet of distance between the two of you. 

“I’m sure you are f’someone else, but ‘m not interested.” His tone was more clipped now, friendliness falling away in the hopes of deterring you. “Not another girl in the world for me but her.” 

God, he was sweet, and more in love with you than you could have ever hoped for a person to be. Your heart ached, entirely overwhelmed with adoration for this man who was waiting for you. 

“Well that’s very lovely.” You cooed, turning sideways to look at him, one arm dropping to your side while the other hand continued to prop your chin up, helping to hide that rosy blush that seemed to stain your cheeks. “I really think you should look at me, though, Stevie.”

You watched as the thought crossed his mind, a slow understanding that something about this interaction seemed out of place. It seemed to take another moment for reality to set in, his body turning and eyes widening comically as they came into focus. 

“Honey!” 

It had you in hysterics, the way his arm gave out from under him, narrowly avoiding his torso from smacking down against the bar top as he lurched towards you. Your arms extended out to catch him, meeting him halfway until his body was pressed tenderly against yours, eager hands creeping up to cup your cheeks, holding your face towards his so he might really look at you. 

“You’re here!” 

Your laughter rang out happily, eyes crinkled at the delight mirrored in his own. 

“Yeah, baby, of course I am. Wanted to make sure you got home safe.” 

If an iris could change shape, then you were certain you saw Steve’s melt into delicate hearts just at the thought of you coming out to take care of him. His thumbs ran adoring lines across your cheekbones, trembling slightly with restraint. 

“S’good to me.” He mumbled, words drowning out within the still deafening music that surrounded you. “Missed you.” 

You felt him slump against you ever so slightly, still conscious of weighing too heavily against you even in his inebriated state, though how he was holding himself up anymore was anyone’s guess. It was your sign to wave Eddie over, though, who without fuss looped a supporting arm around Steve’s back. 

“You gonna let your girl take us home, then? I’m gonna pass out, man, I’m so wrecked.” 

Steve’s brow furrowed, alarmed to have been so suddenly pulled back from you to lean on Eddie, and he reached out a hand in a needy sort of motion towards you. “I wanna dance with her before we go.” 

Too sweet for his own wellbeing, you offered him a sympathetic look, slipping yourself under his other arm to help prop him up. 

“We can dance at home just you and me, okay? In our pjs too — won’t that be nice. We just don’t wanna keep Eddie waiting too long; he’s all danced out.” 

You watched the contemplative look cross his features, leaving him distracted enough for Eddie to start guiding the three of you towards the door without much fuss from Steve. 

“Did you have fun though Ed? Really?” Steve asked, genuine concern threading through his tone as he addressed his friend who managed an affirming nod in response. 

“Loads. We’ll all go out again soon, but I’ve gotta give you back to your sweetheart before she gets too jealous.” 

Steve’s nod was so serious as he processed the words, entirely missing the small look of amusement shared between you and Eddie as you pulled yourselves from the establishment. 

“Yeah.” He agreed, his head lulling sideways to rest on the crown of your own. “She needs me.” 

It had sounded like a joke when he said it, but even you could sense the small severity behind the words, almost reassuring himself of the truth behind them. Of course you needed him. 

“Yeah, she does.” You confirmed, kissing at his shoulder clumsily as you tried to focus on your steps, narrowly avoiding toppling the three of you right over uneven pavements underfoot. “I always need you, honey.” 

You did not need to look at Steve to know that he was smiling — you felt it as you held him, felt it in his touch and the heat of his body carefully wrapped around yours. At least this night felt like a success in your eyes. Steve was happy, and you had done your part to make him so. He’d be awfully hungover tomorrow morning, but he’d be happy, and that was all that seemed to matter to you in the moment. 

Eddie managed to hold Steve upright while you fiddled with the lock of your car door, the boy now contently distracted with regaling tales of the night to the man who had witnessed them first hand. Getting him into the car was easy enough, tucking him cautiously into the front seat, your body leaning over him to click his seatbelt into place, his hand lifting to rub at your lower back in thanks. 

“You’re the best, y’know, baby? The real best. The best best.” 

You paused to smile at him, head shaking in amusement before brushing your lips against his cheek, relishing in the way his hand gripped excitedly at you for the briefest of moments. “I could say the same about you, y’know.” 

“Nuh uh.” 

A groan sounded from outside the car, drawn out and exasperated beyond compare. “Jesus H Christ, I’m begging for someone to take me home. It’s so fucking late, guys.” 

You pulled back with a laugh to witness Eddie’s petulance, your hand coming out to gesture to the back seat. “Then get in the car, dingus, and I’ll take you home.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Steve slurred from the front seat, the battle against his weariness now long lost, eyes closed and head resting heavily against its back, unable to hold itself up any longer. 

Eddie clambered into the back with a half assed eye roll, splaying out across the work back seat until he, too, was one with the upholstery. “You guys aren’t gonna be gross and sayin’ i love you’s all the way home, are you?” 

Steve’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh shit, I haven’t said I love you yet!” 

The charming little frown that spread across his face was enough to melt you in your entirety, your hand reaching out to brush his check with affection, his nose nuzzling sweetly into the cup of your palm. “I’m not worried about it; I know you do.” 

“Yeah, but I do love you. I was thinkin’ it the whole time, thinkin’ you’re so pretty n’ all. So pretty that I couldn't remember to say it.” 

Eddie just huffed again in the back seat, his complaints overtly ignored despite the growing expletives.

“I love you too, Stevie. How about we get Eds home and get you some water, then we can be as sweet as we wanna be.” 

Steve’s lips pressed into your palm, his kiss unhurried and uncoordinated as the alcohol hindered his usual grace, a mumbled m’kay tickling your skin as he spoke. 

You looked up into the rearview mirror, dropping your hand to Steve’s knee for the boy to hold, keeping his neediness satiated for the time being as he grasped it between his own eagerly. “You hear that, Eds? You’re in the clear. Let’s get you boys home.” 

A grumbled thank god and the creaks of the backseat window being clumsily wound down was enough incentive to start your travels, a pleased smile gracing your lips to know that Steve had been given exactly the night he deserved after all. 

[angelicyoongie]

lovesick (XII)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 6.3k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, explicit sexual content (vaginal fingering), other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.

Previous – Next

You pad slowly into the common room, rubbing your eyes.

Yoongi was abruptly called into work a few minutes ago – something about missing files and a tight deadline – so he had to usher you out of bed with gentle touches and soft apologies, sending you to wake up on the couch with Namjoon. 

"Hi darling," Namjoon croons as you collapse next to him, picking up one of the thick blankets strewn about to bundle you up with.

You let yourself be tucked in, the extra warmth is more than welcome with how chilly the cabin gets in the early mornings. The fireplace is barely crackling, the flames struggling to take hold with how recently they've been lit.

You mumble something unintelligible in return, pulling the blanket up to your nose to fend off the cold. Namjoon lets out a fond laugh as he scoots closer on the couch. He puts an arm around your shoulder, guiding your head to rest on his chest as he mindlessly plays with your hair. The soothing touches make your already heavy eyes flutter shut immediately, your consciousness drifting further away with every rise and fall of Namjoon's chest. 

You drift off for a while, the sounds of Yoongi's rushed goodbye as he runs out the door and Namjoon turning the pages of his book muffled under your sleepiness. Sitting curled up against Namjoon allows your body to slowly wake up, and lets you forget about everything that awaits you while you're caught in the in-between of sleep and reality. 

It's the sound of cupboards slamming that finally wakes you up, a sheepish sorry! being called from the kitchen. Namjoon's fingers still in your hair as you huff, your eyebrows creasing with displeasure as you realize it's time to open your eyes. 

"Morning," Namjoon murmurs warmly, "Jungkook doesn't always remember how strong he is, especially not when he's tired, so he has a bad habit of slamming things shut. I'm sorry he disturbed you." 

"'S okay," You yawn, "I should probably get up anyway." 

"Hmm, you don't have to," Namjoon curls his arm around your waist, holding you securely against his chest. "We can just stay here and cuddle until breakfast is ready." 

I'm sure you'd like that, you–

You stifle the vicious voice inside your head as soon as it rears its head. Even though you have decided to accept the cards you have been dealt, or rather, the cards that were forced into your hands; it's not something that can happen overnight. They've terrorized you for over a year so rewiring your brain to follow the path your soulbond is trying to lead you isn't easy. But you are trying.

"Sure," You concede, snuggling closer to Namjoon's firm chest. 

You watch as he delicately turns another page in the book he's reading, your eyes growing wide as you recognize the poem that's printed on it in faded letters. Your breath hitches as you blink, dumbstruck, down at the same collection you asked him about that day you visited him at the library. 

"Aren't these the poems Jungkook used in his letters?"

Namjoon tenses as he notices where your attention has drifted. His fingers subconsciously splay across the page, almost as if he's trying to hide the words, as he says, "Yeah, it is." 

"Why did you bring it here?" You ask as you eye the book warily. It's not like the book carries any good memories for you and on top of that, Namjoon seemed rather perturbed by the sight of it all those months ago. 

"It... I guess you can say it holds sentimental value," Namjoon murmurs. 

"My mom passed away when I was young so I don't remember much of her. I just have a blurry memory of us visiting a garden somewhere, her blue dress fluttering in the wind. Her passing broke my dad's heart. They were soulmates, so I think a part of him died that day too," He heaves a heavy sigh.

"Grief made him do stupid things and one of those was throwing away most of her belongings. I think it just hurt too much, that her things were still there but she wasn't, you know?"

You give a silent nod, heart squeezing at the way Namjoon's voice turns slightly shaky. 

"He luckily donated most of her books to the library. I don't think he knew she had written one of them," He gently taps the collection in his lap. "It wasn't until a few years ago that I found some old papers he had missed, once that were drafts of half-written poems and random thoughts. It was just luck, fate maybe, that I  recognized her writing. I had read through most of the local donations by that point to do a little feature stand and hers was one of them." 

"I'm sorry, about your mom, I mean," You push aside the throw to curl an arm around Namjoon's waist, giving him a comforting squeeze. 

"It's okay, it happened a long time ago," He whispers in return, resting his cheek on top of your head. 

"Do you know what happened – why she passed so young?" 

"I'm not sure," Namjoon says, "Dad never told me the full extent of it. I just know she had a lot of health issues." 

The pit of your stomach feels heavy as you rub your cheek against Namjoon's chest, hugging him close. His mom's history must be why he's been so adamant on making sure you're healthy and taking care of yourself, why he even went as far as scheduling medical check-ups for you. It doesn't make it right and it does not excuse his behaviour, but it does explain things.

"Do you know how Jungkook found the book? I remember the section being pretty hidden away," You tentatively say, trying to steer the conversation over to something a little lighter.

"Hm, I showed him that aisle a long time ago. It's probably the section that needs the least work since so few people know about it, so it would be easy for him to use it and put it back without me even noticing. He probably copied them down in his letters whenever I  wasn't on shift – I guess he didn't want me to notice and ask about it." 

You suppose that makes sense. No one besides Taehyung and Yoongi was open about their newfound soulmate connection and letters, so it adds up that Jungkook would want it to be a secret too.

"It's weird that he ended up with that particular collection out of every book in the library though," You muse. 

Namjoon's breath fans across your hair, his voice equally as thoughtful as he says, "Maybe it was our bond that did it. Even if it's just connected through you, it's still strong enough to influence us. That could explain why he was drawn to it." 

"Right," You swallow thickly. 

You suppress the shudder that wants to travel down your spine. It's a truly terrifying thought that everything has fallen into place like it was supposed to happen, like the universe made it that way. Even if Namjoon said that your bond is rare, there have to be others out there who are dealing with the same thing. Or, at the very least, there has to be some sort of explanation as to why all seven of them are acting this way – it surely can't be that it's just because they're feeling the bond more intensely than you are. 

"Actually, do you think you could do me favour?" You pull back just enough to glance up at Namjoon, giving him the sweetest look you can muster as you say, "Could you bring me some books on soulbonds from the library the next time you're there? I think knowing more about it will make everything a little... easier for me, you know?" 

Namjoon stares at you in silence, the second dragging on for much too long before he breaks out into a pleased smile. "Of course, darling, anything for you." 

"Thank you," You press a fleeting kiss to his jaw, hating how the action makes your own heart pick up speed.

You catch a glimpse of Namjoon's bright grin, dimples indented on his cheeks, as you hurriedly settle back down against his chest. He puts his book aside in favour of wrapping you up in his arms, humming something under his breath as he holds you close. 

Perhaps not all luck has left you just yet. Namjoon practically runs the local library, so if there's anyone who can bring you all the books you could ever want on soulmates and soulbonds, he's the right guy for it. 

You're sure there is some information out there that can be useful for you – you just need to find it first. 

"He's not giving up." 

You halt at Jimin's low hiss, wiping off the last bit of moisture on your hands on your sweats. You're halfway between the bathroom and your old room, shrouded in darkness as you wait with bated breath for Jimin to continue. 

"This is the second time he's come by this week and he even brought his boyfriend along to 'act as a witness'. I barely managed to keep them from making a scene." 

You can hear the agitation in Jimin's voice, can easily picture how his lips must be pressed together with annoyance as he paces around the room. You keep to the shadows as you creep closer, making sure you can't be seen from the open door. 

"It's Heejin– no wait, Heejun right? Y/n's friend?" 

Your heart jumps to your throat as you catch Seokjin's low murmur, gripping the wall for support as you listen to them talk. 

"That's the one," Jimin lets out an exasperated sigh. "He refuses to accept the story we came up with even though there's no evidence to suggest foul play. He keeps prodding and poking and if he continues, something will eventually lead him back to me, hyung. I don't care if he thinks I'm an incompetent cop; but if he's starting to suspect me, we'll have to deal with it – one way or another." 

You press your hand to your mouth, muffling the broken noise that squeezes past your lips. You have accepted your faith, have decided to work with it instead of against it, but your best friend doesn't know that. He just knows that you were being stalked and then one day, you were suddenly gone. If the situation was flipped, you would've been beside yourself with concern. You know he cares too much to give up but you can't let Heejun get hurt because of you. You miss him and Jaemin so much your body aches with it, but their safety is all that matters. You won't be able to live with yourself if the boys harm them in any way. 

You stumble back, ears ringing as Seokjin says something in return. You feel along the wall as you hurry back to the bathroom, your breaths falling quicker and quicker. You close the door behind you with shaking hands, leaning on it as you sink to the floor.

You're not sure how long you sit there, mind racing with possibilities of what you can do to stop them until Seokjin knocks on the door. 

"Angel, are you doing okay?" 

"Yeah! Just a minute," You clear your throat, legs unsteady as you clamber to your feet. 

You glance at the mirror, wincing at how disheveled you look. You brush your hair back with your fingers as you take deep breaths, attempting to make yourself look more put together and not like you weren't just tethering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack. 

"There you are," Seokjin grins as you open the door. He doesn't seem to find anything amiss as he grabs your hand, leading you down the dark hallway toward Jimin's room. 

Should you ask Seokjin about what you heard? Should you beg him to stop Jimin from doing anything rash?

"Let me know if you need anything, angel, you know I'm right across the hall," Seokjin's long strides take you to Jimin's door before you can make up your mind. He pauses before he opens it, leaning down to deliver a lingering kiss to your cheek. 

Warmth blooms where he touched your skin, your burning face thankfully hidden by the low light. 

"Sleep well, Y/n," He whispers. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before he pushes the door open, guiding you in by your shoulders. 

"Angel delivery!" Seokjin announces as he walks you into the room, snickering at the embarrassed noise you make in protest to the cheesy line. 

"About time!" Jimin whines, "I thought hyung had stolen you away for the night." 

He pulls you out of Seokjin's grasp and into his arms before the older can hog more of his time, shuffling backward towards the bed as he says, "Close the door on your way out." 

"Excuse me?" Seokjin splutters, "Is that any way to treat your hyung?"

"Oh right," Jimin has his chin hooked over your shoulder, flashing Seokjin a teasing smile as he says, "Please close the door on your way out." 

"The disrespect! I swear– " Seokjin's voice tapers off into irritated mumbles as he shows himself out, closing the door behind him as Jimin requested. 

Jimin waits until he hears Seokjin's footsteps recede and another door close before he pulls back, making sure he isn't going to pop back in to ruin the moment. The boyish smile Jimin is sporting after teasing Seokjin softens as he meets your gaze. 

"Hi baby," Jimin cradles your face in his palm, running his thumb soothingly over your cheek. "I missed you." 

"Hi," You murmur back, easily returning his smile.

He's only been gone for two days, but something in you settles as you feel Jimin's touch; like a weird itch you didn't even know was there has been scratched. Jimin's shifts at the station often force him to be away for multiple days at a time and while it's a bitter pill to swallow, you've actually started to miss him while he's gone. It's not even just Jimin – if any of the boys are gone for more than twenty-four hours, your chest starts to feel hollow, like an important piece is missing. 

You hate it.

Jimin looks at you like he's drinking you in, his eyes never settling on one spot for too long.

If you're feeling their absence this strongly already, you're sure it must be a much worse experience for them. You've grown accustomed to the boys being a little more clingy than normal when they return and the extra skinship always seems to soothe you too. Yet, your breath still hitches as Jimin moves his thumb down to your mouth, lightly grazing over your bottom lip. 

The way Jimin's gaze keeps flickering back to your mouth makes it very obvious what he wants – craves – but he doesn't act on it; none of them do. So far the boys have seemed content, though perhaps somewhat resigned, to limit their kisses to your cheeks and hair. They know that pushing you past your limits will only backfire, that they'll only get what they truly want once you're willing and want them just as much as they desire you. They've already spent over twelve months watching you from afar, so you suppose a few months more doesn't make much of a difference now that they already have you in their grasp. 

It's only a matter of time before you break and you all know it. 

"Let's go to bed, baby. I've had a long day." 

"Everything okay?" You grip Jimin's hand a little tighter than intended as he leads you to bed, his earlier conversation with Seokjin echoing in your head.

"There's been a string of minor burglaries that have been giving me a headache, but there's nothing you need to worry your pretty head about," Jimin pulls the covers back, throwing you a reassuring look over his shoulder as he adds, "You're safe here with us, Y/n."

"I know. Thank you," You murmur, swallowing around the knot in your throat. 

You couldn't care less about some random break-ins, not in a situation like this and with Heejun's safety in jeopardy. Why would you worry about the monsters that are out and about in the city when you're fighting your own demons right here in the cabin? Regardless, you know that Jimin is speaking the truth. You pity anyone who would ever think to come to this cabin when you got seven, frankly unhinged, soulmates that are willing to do anything to 'keep you safe'. 

You crawl into bed first, getting yourself situated on your side as Jimin slips into place behind you. You raise your arm just in time for Jimin to curl his own around your waist, your legs slotting together with practiced ease. 

Jimin hugs you close to his chest, letting out a content sigh as he breathes in the slightly woodsy scent that lingers on your skin. "Sleep well baby, we'll catch up tomorrow," He drawls, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. 

"Good night," You whisper back.

You curl both hands beneath your chin, staring aimlessly out the dark window that's visible from the bed. The rapidly approaching winter has made the already dark nights almost pitch black, engulfing the trees despite the clinging snow that tries to brighten them. There are no stars out, nothing but endless darkness that stretches around the cabin like an all-consuming void. 

You find you can't quiet your mind, your thoughts racing much too fast for it to happen. You can't shake off the conversation you overheard earlier, of how annoyed Jimin sounded as he mentioned Heejun and Jaemin. The boys have already proven that they're willing to go to great lengths to ensure that they get what they want, so you don't doubt for a second that they'll hurt your friends if they deem them to be in their way. 

You can't let them harm them. You won't be able to live with yourself if they do. 

Jimin's breathing has almost evened out when you reach down to grab his hand, your mouth opening to blurt out a choked, "Please don't hurt them, Jimin." 

There's a second where you wonder if he's already asleep when there's no movement aside from the steady rise and fall of his chest. Maybe it would be better if he is asleep, at least that would give you time to come up with a plan, but you're too frazzled to think straight. All you know is that you need to convince Jimin to back off. 

"Jimin–" 

You're gently shushed as he intertwines your hands, resting them on your stomach. 

"I guess you heard us talking," Jimin mumbles drowsily. 

He rests his face against your shoulder, voice muffled against your skin as he asks, "Do you remember how I told you about the night I first felt the bond? That time your 'friends' ditched you at that club. Do you know how you got home that night, baby?" 

"What? Don't change the subject–" 

"Just indulge me," Jimin interrupts you with a squeeze to your hand.

"No, I... I don't remember. I don't know," You mumble, eyebrows creasing as you try to recall any details from that night. Everything is fractured into broken memories, blurred from the copious amounts of alcohol you had in your system. 

You can only picture the sneer one of your 'friends' was sporting behind your back, clearly not meant to be seen by you as you suddenly turned around to ask her something. The flashing lights on the dance floor. Your bleeding knee as you tripped outside the club. Dark, polished shoes barely visible through your tears.

"I didn't just see you that night you fell outside the club, baby. I was the one that brought you home." 

"You did?" You stare into the darkness, stomach twisting with emotions you can't quite place. 

"Yeah," Jimin confirms with a slight nod. "You were drunk as hell and all alone, it wasn't safe for you to attempt to find your way home on your own. I knew you were hurt so how could I just leave you there to fend for yourself?"

"I think you, or the bond maybe, recognized me right away. You were all over me as I was trying to walk you to my patrol car, touching my face and giggling about how handsome I was," Jimin lets out a breathy chuckle. "You're a touchy drunk, baby, I almost had to put you in handcuffs on the way over to your apartment." 

– handcuffs, but I'd rather not do that to you right now. Just keep your hands in your lap, alright Miss?

Baby, you hear your own voice sniffly grumble, not "miss" – that's so boring. 

You're not going to make this easy for me, hm? Okay then, baby it is. 

The memory comes out of nowhere, catching you off-guard. You were the one that permitted Jimin, no – practically begged him – to use such a nickname for you? 

"You weren't easy to handle, Y/n," Jimin snorts. "It took me way too long to wrangle you to your couch and you almost started crying again when I left the room to grab your first-aid kit. You kept stroking my hair as I patched up your knee, switching between acting pouty and cute as you tried to convince me to come to bed with you." 

"I didn't, by the way," He adds as he notes the tension in your body. "I just helped you into bed and made sure you fell asleep before I left. Nothing happened. I would never take advantage of you like that." 

You believe him. Jimin's letters were always so sexual, always so ready to describe the ways he would touch you as if he was picturing your first time together. If he had already done so, you can only imagine what kind of imagery he would've painted for you in his letters. 

"So that's how you know where I lived," You say, mind reeling with the new information. You just thought he had passed you by that night, just long enough to feel the bond. You had no idea that he was the one that safely got you home.  

Jimin hums. 

"If you knew, why didn't you tell me? All of this, everything, could've been avoided that way." 

You feel him pause and hold his breath, before he slowly releases it. "I don't know, baby. I was overwhelmed that I had finally found you – scared that you wouldn't like me when you were sober. It just felt easier to watch you from afar and try to build up the courage to approach you again." 

Your heart twists with the idea of what could have been.

Jimin was the first soulmate who felt your bond and who later sent you a letter. If he had just approached you normally the day after your night out, you're not so sure everything else would have transpired the way it did. Maybe you would have looked for your remaining soulmates with his help once you figured out there was more than one. Maybe you would've met the other boys through Jimin or perhaps they would've been more inclined to approach you normally once they realized you shared a bond with their friend. 

Perhaps everything would have been different if Jimin had tried.

"Why are you telling me this?" You whisper.

"I know I haven't given you a great first impression but I'm not a bad person, baby. I just.. wanted you to know that," Jimin says, lips moving against your skin. 

This new knowledge does paint him in a slightly better light. You're mortified over the way you acted that night and you clearly gave Jimin some signals as to how you felt about him, but it still doesn't excuse the way he has acted or the things he has said over the past year.

He lets out a small, sad sigh when he doesn't get a response. 

"You asked about your friend. What if we come to an agreement on how to deal with him?" 

"Yes," The word spills out before you can even consider the consequences. 

Jimin goes perfectly still behind you, his voice a low rumble as he says, "Do you even know what you just agreed to, baby? I haven't told you what I want in return yet." 

You swallow thickly, giving him a barely-there nod. He might not ask for what you're thinking about but when it comes to keeping your friends unharmed, you're willing to do anything. Giving Jimin what he's been craving for over a year should hopefully make him more inclined to listen to you, to trust you. 

Jimin's breath hitches as you slowly bring your intertwined hands up your body, not quite touching but still making the implications very clear. You untangle your fingers as you reach your chest, leaving his hand resting just shy of it. 

You bite your lip, heart racing, as you wait for Jimin to touch you. A beat passes, and another, but his hand stays frozen in place where you left it, not even a finger moving closer to your body. 

"Why aren’t you?–" 

"You're tense," Jimin murmurs, nudging his nose against your tight shoulder. "I’ll only touch you if you want it – want me." 

"Do you?" He asks.

The question hangs in the quiet air between you, pending, as you try to find your answer. Had Jimin asked you the same question a few months ago, you know what your response would have been. Your body would have curled up in disgust, you would have screamed and kicked and punched if he had so much as tried to put a finger on you. But now... You're not so sure anymore. While the thought of what he's put you through still sickens you, it's not repulsion you feel as you imagine him touching you. 

You want it. 

Whether it's the soulbond, the isolation or just your mind breaking apart, you don't know. But that doesn't change the fact that you don't mind the idea of Jimin touching you. You even brought it up first, not knowing if this is what he wanted out of your agreement or not. 

You want him.

You lick your lips, your mouth feeling dry as you whisper out a quiet, "Yes." 

"I need a full sentence, baby. I want to make sure."

"Jimin," You barely manage to raise your voice, but it sounds so loud, so damning, in the quiet night. "Please touch me." 

Jimin stifles a groan against your shoulder, sounding hoarse as he says, "Okay, baby, as you wish." 

He nudges your oversized shirt to the side with his nose, attaching his mouth to the revealed skin. You let out a soft mewl as you feel the slight sting of his teeth sink into your shoulder, the sensation soothed by his tongue as he licks over the bite, sucking the skin between his lips. 

Jimin moves his mouth from your shoulder to your neck, leaving behind a trail of kisses and slowly forming bruises. He reaches out to grope your chest, moaning at the resulting shiver that runs through you. 

"Gods," He groans as he massages your breast, rolling your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt, "Been thinking about this for so long." 

"Jimin–" You arch your back, gasping, as he suddenly pinches the nub. Jimin pulls and rubs at it in a way that makes your core throb, wetness coating your folds. As you push your breast into his hand, you feel something hard poke against your lower back, Jimin's hips rolling forward on instinct as he feels some friction. 

After all you've been through you know you shouldn't enjoy it, but it feels like your soul preens at the contact. You never thought you would end up here, that you would ever want to be in a position like this, but there's no denying that your body is practically vibrating with excitement as Jimin touches you. Still, there's a small knot in your stomach that only feels heavier the more skin you let him explore. You don't know how much of this is actually you and how much of it is just the bond that ties you together. 

"My pretty baby," Jimin murmurs as he moves his hand over to your other breast, giving it the same treatment as the first as he slowly grinds his cock against your body. 

He gives your nipple one last mean tug, one that makes your cunt clench with need, before he slowly trails his hand down to your stomach. Your breath hitches as he moves his fingers under your shirt, the skin-on-skin contact causing you to let out a soft moan. Your body feels electrified as Jimin caresses your stomach and sides, his fingertips mapping out every inch of the area before he dips them down under the waistband of your sweats. 

"Please," The word barely has time to leave your mouth before Jimin obliges, hand sliding between your legs to cup your cunt. He glides his fingers between your folds, groaning as he feels how soaked the material of your underwear has become. 

"Fuck, you're dripping for me already, baby," Jimin curses as he continues to feel up your cunt, dragging the pad of his finger from your aching clit down to your slick hole, giving it just enough pressure to feel the tip of it dip in. 

The sensation makes you squirm with want, rolling your hips against Jimin's cock. He lets out a choked sound at the action, attaching his lips to your neck to give you another hickey. He hisses with frustration as he struggles to touch you properly, the angle awkward and your clothes restricting his hand. 

Jimin taps the inside of your thigh to make you spread your legs further. Heat floods your face as you feel just how wet you are as your legs part, hooking your foot over Jimin's calf to give him more room. 

"Good girl," He praises as he finally pushes your underwear aside. The first touch of his fingers against your aching cunt makes you both moan, your heart thumping harshly in your chest with anticipation. 

You know there's no going back after this. The knot in your belly, the lingering hostility, is practically overshadowed by your mounting pleasure. You can feel the part of you that's still angry quieting down more and more with each touch, the tight grip you've had on your resentment loosening. You know this is wrong, that you never should have let Jimin – your stalker – touch you like this regardless of how much your soul is yearning for him. But the horrible truth is that you're never getting away from them. And if this makes Jimin happy, then that means you should have it easier too, right? 

Gods, how could you sink so low–

Jimin doesn't waste much time teasing you, too impatient for it when you're already this dripping wet.

He drags his finger along your slit, coating it in your slick before he prods at your entrance. The digit slides into your wet heat easily, your walls fluttering around it as you try to get used to the feeling. He gently pumps his finger in and out at first, making sure you're relaxed before he adds another one. He thumbs at your clit as the second finger joins the first, the jolt of pleasure masking the slight discomfort as you're stretched out more. 

You can't quite believe how easily your body allows him in, how painless it feels compared to the previous times you've been with someone in the past. Maybe Jimin is just more skilled, but it feels like your body knows to relax in Jimin's hold, like it wants to be good for your soulmate.

"Shit," You whimper as Jimin's fingers curl against your walls, bumping into the spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. You clench down around him, trying to keep him in place and yet draw him in even deeper, desperate for that burst of pleasure again. 

"P-Please don't stop," You beg, your mind blissfully blank aside from the mounting pleasure in your core.

"I won't, baby, I won't," Jimin groans. He keeps up the steady motion of rolling his hips against your body, grunting as you work yourself on his fingers, pressing your ass harder against his cock. 

You bury your head into your pillow as Jimin's fingers begin pumping into you faster, stifling your increasing moans as he touches that sensitive spot over and over. Your leg trembles, toes curling, as Jimin angles his fingers, ceasing his thrusting in favour of rubbing your g-spot head-on. 

Desperate noises fall from your lips as your stomach begins to tighten, your release building so quickly that it leaves you gasping for air. You're almost there, your cunt clenching needily around Jimin's fingers. 

"Come for me, baby," Jimin rasps. The faintest brush of his slick thumb against your clit is all it takes for you to come undone. 

"Jimin!" You cry out his name as your pleasure unravels, your vision whitening out as your release hits you. You feel your slick gush around Jimin's fingers as he keeps brushing against your walls, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible. 

The sound of you moaning his name with so much passion makes Jimin growl, his hips snapping forward. Your wetness coating his fingers and your warm body twitching underneath his is all it takes for Jimin to find his own release; he grinds his hard cock against you once, twice, before he explodes with a deep groan.

You lay in bed, panting, as you try to catch your breath. You let out a choked whine as Jimin carefully pulls out his fingers, everything feeling so sensitive after the intense orgasm you just had. 

"You're amazing, Y/n," Jimin croons as he presses a kiss to the nape of your neck. He slips his hand out from your clothes, rubbing your stomach contently as he says, "Just give me a second to find something to clean us up with, baby, I'll be right back." 

You let out a soft noise in return. 

You wait for the deep regret and anger to come rushing in as you hear Jimin swiftly exit the room, for the high in your veins to turn to disgust as he returns to carefully wipe you down with a damp cloth and whisper sweet nothings about how much he adores you. 

It doesn't happen. 

Everything in you feels thrilled at Jimin's attentiveness, at how closely he wraps you up in his arms when he's done. Your heart flutters with excitement as he tucks you close to his chest, arms wrapped around your body securely. 

Your soul feels so content that you struggle to grasp onto the hatred you feel for them, the feeling buried deep beneath the happy emotions your soulbond tries to overwhelm you with. 

Your resentment hasn't changed. Won't ever change. But how do you explain that you wanted Jimin to touch you – that you enjoyed it? You don't want this or them so why do you feel so content? It breaks your heart to realize that while you do hate them, some small part of your is starting to like them too. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out Jimin's pleased hums as he runs his fingers up and down your arm. You know you won't get any answers tonight and letting your mind run around in circles won't do you much good either. You need the books Namjoon promised he would get for you, that's the only place you'll be able to find some answers. 

You let Jimin's repetitive motions soothe you towards sleep, your eyelids growing heavy. 

"Baby?" Jimin murmurs, the rhythmic fall and rise of his chest skipping a beat as he tenses up for a split second.

"Hmm?" You make an affirmative sound in return, brows furrowing at the sudden shift in Jimin's mood. 

"We've been pretending to be you on your phone, texting your friends and family to keep up appearances. Heejun doesn't buy it."

Your eyes snap open in the darkness, your breath catching in your throat. 

"He knows something is wrong since we can't pick up whenever he tries to call you. We won't hurt him or his boyfriend, I– we, know you'll never forgive us if something happens to them. But we need him to back off," Jimin grumbles.

You clutch at his tee, sleep washed away and voice bordering on frantic as you ask, "What do you need me to do?"

"Simple," Jimin sighs, pressing a fleeting kiss to the top of your head, "You just have to convince him that you don't want to talk to him anymore. That's the only way he'll leave us alone." 

The thought makes you want to laugh. There's no way Heejun would ever believe something like that. You've practically been attached at the hip ever since you were young, been through so many highs and lows that you taking a trip to the moon sounds more possible than ever growing bored of him. Heejun would never buy such a simple excuse, hell, he would probably only double down harder to figure out why you're so hellbent on ignoring him. 

"Right, simple," You echo, deflating in Jimin's arms.

It's never going to work. 

You'll have to come up with a much better idea if you want to protect your friends and keep them safe. 

a/n: hhh.... so that happened?? 🫣 we got a lot of new information in this chapter! we finally learned more about namjoon's backstory and his connection with the poems, the mc needs to figure out how to convince her friends she's okay and well... we have finally reached the smut!!

please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter and let's scream about what went down with jimin lol 💖

see you soon!

[crows-in-the-house]

Bill Cipher x Reader possesion hc's

tw: harm to reader, violence and blood?

i think he would posses you in your sleep, making sure you are deep in nightmare realm, getting in only when he's sure you won't wake up :

he will start his fun with drawing eyes on your eyelids and your forehead, maybe whole body if he's in the mood,

and the best part? It's going to be with a the pernament marker sucker!

if he gets bored he might start drawing triangles or riddles, sometimes just in places you won't see, like "Bill's property" on your nape (ha! you still have that you fool!)

oooh, and maybe he will tattoo that if you've been ignoring him lately

just so you know haha

will try to see if he can bite of ur fingers

will eat spiders (his fav human must be well feed)

will bath you in nailpolish so you're "well preserved"

will prank call random people hoping he finds any of the Pines numbers (so you two can go on a murder date!!)

will make a fashion show!

but don't hope it will turn out well, he will cut out "clothes" out of your curtains, make a shawl out of toilet paper and use a grater as a bracelet. Later you may just find yourself half naked cuz he bearly knew how to put back normal clothes on you (he will defend himself saying that real clothes are boring and out of style)

on the other hand he will also put on lots of jewelry and accesories - so you may also wake up with three hats, old winter glove, two bowties (which you didn't own earlier?) and 6 rings on your toes. enjoy!

sometimes Bill will just watch tv. Maybe he will comment on "my little ponny" or other shows, what else can he do? He has to talk to somebody, you know, while waiting for his lazy human. The next day you can feel ur throat burning and eyes itching

"what about building a portal?" - you would ask. Well no, he obviously does that. It's just that it's not so enjoyable when you don't have anyone to boss around! So he gets bored quickly and nags you about it later. Or send you more nightmares about it, cuz how dare you be so sloppy with your work!?

he will also draw himslef on all your mirrors so you can look at him every time u try to look at ur relfection (if you try to clean that off, he will just scratch it with something sharp the next day, so better be cearful, theres going to be lots of glass shards everywhere)

prolly will just throw brokade everywhere cuz its pretty

if he's feeling lonely or desperate he will start rewiring your brain, maybe adding a few fake memories where he's your hero, or putting himself in a place of somebody that helped you in hard sytuation. Remember that one time you got sick and somebody was next to your bed 24/7? Yeah it was Bill, do thank him.

will read all your thoughts about him

will drink a soup made of energy drinks and candy

will write his name on ur brain. or heart. or lungs, maybe just everywhere, why not?

will act like you in front of the mirror and compliment himself!

will try making a piercing. if he fails with your ears he will just practice on your tights! And neck!

will haunt down your friends, you better tell them you were just playing tag with them. Yes, with a knife, who doesn't?

will try to lick your eyeball

and elbow

also will hurt your body in weird ways but that obvious

(buuuut maybe, just maybe, he will make you not feel all the pain the next day. If he likes you that enough, that is)

[chamomiletealeaf]

Photo credit to @ave661 💖

Warnings: afab! reader, nsfw, smut, piv sex, squirting, gangbang?, sub!reader, degradation?, Oral (f! and m! receiving), thigh riding, spitroast, porn with little plot, just overall filth 🙏😩 (lmk if I missed any)

All is consented to 🗣️

wc: 1,916

A/n: This is my first fic and was actually supposed to be just a comment on the picture 💀 idk how it got turned into this 😭 Sorry if this sucks ass lmao.

Imagine you’re a sniper who was just outnumbered and captured as a prisoner just to have task force 141 take turns with you and make you a drooling, whimpering, squirting, cock dumb slut bouncing on their cocks one by one like their own personal barracks bunny.

Their thigh holsters rewire the synapses in my brain and have the same effect on me as electroshock therapy would 😵‍💫

They’d have you in so many different positions. Sometimes all of them using you at once, stuffing all your tight holes, sometimes one watching and enjoying from afar.

Simon would have your knees by your head, positioned on a couch, pushing your thighs back watching as your tits bounce and your eyes cross as he pounds into your wet, squelching pussy.

“God lovie, you got me thinking you WANTED to be captured with how fuckin wet this pussy is for me. Such a slut hm? I bet your cute lil cunt was throbbing and fluttering up on that hill we caught you at just thinking ab having us all at once.”

Once Simon’s done with you he wipes your tears of pleasure from your face.

“Aww, what, my cock feel so good you just can’t handle it? Look at how pretty and cute she is boys. And look at these fuckin perfect tits god.” He moves to start licking up and down your neck and on your tits, squeezing them and leaving wet, sloppy kisses all over, making you whine and arch your back, pressing your tits into him.

“C’mon mate you’ve had your turn.” Soap says impatiently, clearly frustrated.

Soap would have you sit on his lap, your back against his chest with your legs spread over his thighs, cock deep in your pussy so he could show the rest of the guys how much he can make you squirt. You arch your back and reach behind you to grip his hair with one hand while the other grabs at his thigh holster as you bounce on his cock. He reaches around your waist and rubs your throbbing, pink little clit in fast circles and side to side motions with one hand making you squirt all over him, yourself, and the couch while his other hand grips your hip with a sly, teasing smirk on his face as he does so.

“Ohhhh fuck yeah juuust like that bunny”, Soap says with a laugh as you squirt and your pussy pulses while he continues fucking up into you and rubbing your clit, making your juices messily splash around you two. “Show them how much this fat cock makes you squirt. That feel good hm? Hittin that perfect fuckin spot in you while I rub on this cute little twitching clit of yours yeah? Fuck look at that boys, she’s fuckin soaked us and the couch. Such a good fucking girl.” He says with that same shit eating smirk.

Gaz would join Soap after you squirt kneeling between yours and Soaps legs pushing your thighs back wanting to watch closer as Soap continues to fuck up into you, overstimulating your fucked out pussy. He’d place his warm, wet tongue on your clit looking up at you lapping up your remaining juices while Soap continues to overstimulate you, still pounding into you from beneath, making your toes curl as you let out a whimper.

“Mm taste so fucking good hunnie. That’s right you can take it.” Soap then removes his hands from your hips and brings his arms up and under your knees and placing his hands behind your head, putting you in a full Nelson. “That’s right, look at Gaz while he teases that cute lil clit of yours babes yeah? Look at how my fat fucking cock stretches you nice and wide. Thaaaat’s right, yeah cum all on my cock.” Soap says, and you can’t help but spasm all over his cock again and on Gaz’s face as you cum.

Price watches all this happen sitting across from the couch, legs spread, smoking a cigar. He stands up, and starts approaching you, Soap, and Gaz.

“Well, well, what a fuckin show. But I think it’s my turn hm? Whaddya say bunny?” He says lifting your chin up from the position Gaz and Soap had you in, taking another drag of his cigar while Simon watches not too far away with his leaking cock in his hand.

“C’mon, you two have had your fun.” Price says to Soap and Gaz. He then sits next to Soap and pulls you onto his lap, away from the two men, and Simon moves to stand behind the couch next to Price.

“What a contrast. You completely naked and us fully clothed. So fuckin hot.” Price says while he grinds his clothed hard on against your bare dripping pussy, gripping your hips and pulling them down on his while he ruts his hips up, making you whine. “Wanna see that cute, pink little pussy of yours soak me through my fuckin pants.” He says as he continues his movements while you tip your head back and continue to grind down on him harder. “Uh uh look at me.” He says grabbing your jaw and yanking your head back down to look into his eyes. “You’re gonna fuckin look at me while you rub that tight little snatch on my thigh.” Price then lifts you so you’re straddling his thigh and he starts to move you back and forth again, the boys watching around you two on the couch in amusement.

“Whaddya think boys, do I let her cum again like this? Or on my cock.” Price says, takin a puff of his cigar and blowing the smoke back out at you. Simon then steps around the couch and sits next to you and Price. You’re now riding the Captain’s thigh while he grips your hip and smokes his cigar with Simon next to him on your left. Soap and Gaz are on Price’s other side to your right, all four men watching you like vultures on their prey.

“I think she’s been a good girl. Why not give her two cocks.” Simon says with a smirk in his deep, husky accent that makes you get impossibly wetter. “Whaddya say lovie?” Simon asks you as he tilts your chin to him while you’re still moving yourself on Price’s thigh, hands gripping on his thigh and his vest. You nod. “W- want you both. At the same time” you say, ironically a little embarrassed seeing you’ve already been ruined by the four big men in front of you.

Simon and Price look at each other and let out a teasing laugh at your desperate, pathetic sounding words. “Just can’t get enough can she?” Price says to Simon, then turning back to you. “You want more bunny? Hm? Want my cock in you while Simon fucks that pretty little mouth of yours?” You nod, lip between your teeth. “Ah ah use your words love.” Simon says. “Be a good girl and ask nicely.” You whine, embarrassed and intimidated by all the men’s eyes on you. “Need it. Need it please. Need it so bad.” You whimper out.

“Well, you heard the girl.” Price says smirking as he moves to take his thick cock out. He stands up and guides you to the side of the couch, while Simon scoots down to the arm rest you’re both standing by. Price kicks your feet out, spreading your legs as he grabs your hair and bends you over the arm rest of the couch, face directly above Simon’s leaking tip

“Spit on it.” Simon says, while Price starts to rub his cock back and forth against the folds of your cunt. You spit on Simon’s cock holding eye contact with him and give it a few pumps before wrapping your lips around it, sucking and giving it little innocent kitten licks. “Fuck keep looking at me like that and I’m not gonna be able to behave myself.” Simon says.

You smirk a little bit and Price starts to push into you, moving in slowly all the way to the hilt, turning your smirk into a cute little squeak, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Holy shit. God you’re fuckin tight. Taking me so well and I’ve barely started.” Price says as he grips your hip and grabs your hair, guiding your movements on Simon’s cock. Your back is arched over the arm of the couch, tits pressed against Simon’s thigh while you suck him off, ass clapping against Price’s thighs while he thrusts into you.

Soap and Gaz watch, sitting on the floor across from the three of you making snarky remarks and amused little laughs while sharing a drink from Soap’s flask. Price starts to pick up his pace while Simon groans and throws his head back. “Fuckkk just like that bunny. God your pretty mouth was just made for sucking cock wasn’t it? Look so pretty like this.” Simon says. Price grips your hair and your hip harder, still pounding into you from behind, your ass making a clapping noise against him. “Mm fuck. Can feel you clenching around me so tight. Such a perfect, tight, cunt. Just sucking me in. Greedy little thing. Look at that fat ass just bouncing on my cock.” Price says through clenched teeth and gives your ass a slap, making you jump and let out a little noise.

You feel both men start to get close to their highs and you do too. “Fuck gonna cum.” Simon says as he begins to thrust his hips up to meet your mouth, starting to face fuck you. You gag around his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks due to Simon’s cock choking you and the pleasure of Price stretching you out from behind.

“Gonna cum gonna cum gonna cum-“ Simon says under his breath tilting his head all the way back. Price then takes advantage of Simon’s quietness to talk so fuckin nasty to you. “Fuck look at you. Taking two cocks at once, you fucking minx. Yeah that’s right, let Simon face fuck you pretty girl. Suck him real good. Squeezing me so- fuckin tight I’m- fuck I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna cum in this tiny little pussy yeah? That what you want? Yeah? Cum for us first baby. Wanna feel you throb around me.”

You moan around Simon and clench around Price as you cum for another time that night, losing count of how many releases you’ve had. You kick your legs out and roll your eyes back but Price moves his hand from your hair and presses your torso down, keeping you in place as he fucks you harder. Your moaning around Simon and the fluttering of your pussy was the final push over the edge for the both of them as both men cum inside you. Warm spurts of cum filling you from both ends.

“Oh f- fuckkk” Simon moans with a high pitched whine while Price doesn’t take his eyes off of where you two connect as he lets out a deep groan and a hushed “fuckkk” as he cums inside you. The three of you stay there for a second, then Price gently grabs your arms and lifts you up so your back is pressed against his front, still buried deep inside you. Simon sits there and watches as Price hoists you up and admires your tear stained, gorgeous, post-fuck face, all glowy and tired-looking from getting used. Price guides you back to the couch, grabbing a towel to clean you up while Simon gets you water and a blanket and wraps it around your shoulders. The four men sit with you on the couch taking care of you and making sure you’re okay.

Then Soap says with a cheeky smile:

“Looks like we got ourselves a new member on the team.”

[martiansodas-blog]

Hi! I was just reading your art donaldson head cannons and when I read this part specifically:

♡ wouldn’t mind having a slightly younger partner. he’d like teaching them things and it’d boost his ego a little bit. you two would tease each other about your age all the time.

I immediately new I had to request a one shot ( I think thats what they’re re called ) of them actually teasing each other maybe a bit nswf but yeah so if you could make one 🙏🥹

🎾 🤍💐✨🎀

“you keep me young.”

“and you gave me my first gray hair, can we go now??”

art liked to imagine you old with all gray hair and fine lines. him standing right by your side.

but he’s getting ahead of himself.

“ya know speaking of hair, you should let me use my curly products on you!”

“you don’t think i’ve outgrown that?”

“are you kidding? it would look so good on you now! i’ve only seen pictures of you with a mop on your head i want to experience it first hand.”

he rolled his eyes but the crinkles around them brought by your cheekiness was prevalent. he can’t hide anything around you.

“alright. you’ve convinced me.”

the two of you were chatting in a local coffee shop. there are a dozen cafes closer but you love this one. and art loves whatever you love. it has personality. they make their syrups from scratch and have a little patio for when it’s sunny.

the man was already convinced you were an angel, but the sun behind you giving you a halo was icing on top.

art drowned in your beauty.

the kind of beauty that made everyone else in the room look bad.

the kind that made you create a whole album in your phones photo app.

he made sure you knew just how stunning you were.

but your beauty was also the least interesting thing about you.

“thanks for taking me here.”

“of course. we really don’t come here as often as we should.”

“it’s out of the way. i’d feel bad if you had to fill up your car AND pay for my meal.”

you said it jokingly but it’s easy to feel guilty that about art spoiling you to the extent that he does. you didn’t have much to give in return.

art takes your smaller hand in his and plays with your fingers. the next time he speaks it’s quieter, and with fervor.

“you are a gift, my gift. you were sent to me.”

he looks into your eyes.

“everything i get to do for you is a joy, ok?”

art wasn’t raised religious, frankly he thinks most of them are bullshit. he never thought about believed in fate.

until you.

it took some getting used to- being appreciated on this level.

boys your age could never worship you the way art does.

you were younger than art, yes. but he wasn’t attracted to you because you were mailable. he was attracted to you because you were brilliant. you were passionate, funny, and if you disagreed with someone you stood your ground. you brought a fresher perspective to his life.

with that being said, he still wants to protect you from the big bad world.

you can defend yourself in every sense of the word, but why would you need to when you have a rich experienced man by your side? there’s a lot of people out there who don’t have the best intentions. especially with a girl in her twenties. that’s where art comes in.

he decides that you still need some convincing even after today's date, so he keeps you in his master bedroom for a few hours.

he wants to rewire your brain and ruin anyone else for you.

“you don't get it, do you? when i said i liked you, it wasn't just skin deep. ive got some bad intentions. i wanna take every inch of you and make it mine; i want you to breathe for me, eat for me, i want all of your orgasms to be because of me.”

the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you

[dylandaydreams]

reader casually mentioning to patrick during a hookup he's the first guy they've been with and him thinking is hot (bisexual king)

anon i’m so sorry this took me so long but you truly rewired my brain with this one, thank you!!

[nsfw below the cut, minors dni!]

you & patrick had mutual friends & were introduced to each other over dinner & drinks, your gazes lingering over each other long enough for your friends to understand what was going on & push you two to sit next to each other for the night. a few drinks in & you were more loose lipped than usual, free of your usual inhibitions. so when your friends suggested a game of never have i ever, you went along with it rather than calling it childish or immature like you usually would. so did patrick.

a few typical rounds passed, drinks being sipped & laughter occasionally ringing out from someone in the group. as both of you get more intoxicated, patrick’s hands start to wander. previously, one had sat on table while the other rested on his thigh, but now it was on your thigh, his thumb rubbing against your skin.

“okay, okay!” one of your friends laughed, their eyes sparkling with a new question. “never have i ever… faked an orgasm?” a chorus of groans ring out in the room, & everyone except you & patrick take a sip of their drink. you share a knowing smirk, & he gives your thigh a squeeze that makes heat pool in your stomach. “wait, seriously?” your friend questions, making your break eye contact with patrick. you shrug. “yeah, that’s what happens when you’ve only slept with women, i guess.” you laugh. your friend rolls their eyes in amusement & someone else moves to continue the game, but the sentence has barely left your mouth when you feel patrick shift next to you, rubbing the hand that’s not resting on your thigh on his face. “really?” he asks softly once your friends have resumed playing. his eyebrows are raised in shock, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that makes you shift a little in your seat.

you shoot him a glance, a smile curling at your lips. “yeah, really.” you confirm again. he nods slowly & his gaze wanders away from you for a second, focusing on a faraway point behind you before his eyebrows furrow & he meets your eyes again. “but like, by choice?” he presses. you laugh again. “i didn’t know this was such a big deal.” you tease. he tilts his head to the side & raises an eyebrow, not an ounce of embarrassment regarding the rather personal question he just asked, just curiosity. the game your friends are playing is now long forgotten.

“not necessarily by choice.” you clarify, absentmindedly taking another sip of your drink before you speak again. “just happens to be that i’ve never had sex with a guy. yet.” this last word you mutter under your breath, hoping patrick is too drunk to hear you. but if his wide grin & his hand’s grip on your thigh means anything, he definitely hears you.

once the night draws to a close, you both say goodbye to your friends, & don’t even try to be discreet about leaving together, knowing your friends’ whistles & cheers would’ve followed you out of the bar regardless of how secretive you might’ve tried to be.

~

once you get to your house, patrick can’t seem to be able to peel your clothes off of you fast enough. “fuck.” he mutters into your mouth, both of your lips glossy with spit. “can’t believe i’m gonna be the first- oh shit, first guy to fuck you.” he finishes his sentence with difficulty & closes his eyes, his own words overwhelming him. “sure you’re gonna last that long?” you tease him, amused by his shamelessness.

he takes your comment as a challenge & pulls your shirt off of you before capturing your lips again. you wrap your arms around his neck & pull him closer, & his hands slide down to your ass, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist. you comply & mumble “first door on the left.” into his mouth to guide him as he carries you to your bedroom. patrick discards his shirt somewhere on the floor of your room & then places you on the bed before laying beside you. you run your hands & then your tongue over patrick’s chest, licking & sucking & biting. he’s laying back on the bed & watching you, letting you have your fill. patrick’s trying to let you explore but his patience is quickly running out.

thankfully, you quickly reach his boxers, possibly even more impatient than he is. seeing his length through his boxers makes your eyes go wide a little & he chuckles. “you okay, pup?” he teases. “you’re big.” you reply softly, palming him through the fabric & making him groan. “mm, yeah.” he groans. “gonna let me put it all inside you, huh?” you nod as you pull his boxers down & move to take him into your mouth. “spit on it.” patrick requests, his eye glinting with amusement. you hesitate for a second but ultimately follow his request, letting drool pool on your tongue before opening your mouth & letting it slide down to his cock.

“fuck, that’s good.” patrick says, his eyes rolling back as you take him into your hand & start stroking him. “can i put my mouth on it?” you ask after a couple of minutes of just using your hands. his hips cant up into your hands at your question. “yeah, you want my dick in your mouth?” he presses. you nod & he grins. “sure baby, go ahead.” with his consent, you lower your mouth onto him & start laving kitten licks onto his tip, gathering his precum on your tongue before spreading it all across his cock. “fuck, that’s good.” he hums, watching you explore with an attentive & heated gaze. you suckle on his tips & his hips buck into your mouth, pushing himself further into your throat & making you gag. “sorry.” he grins, not sounding very sorry at all.

you roll your eyes at him & try to take him back into your mouth, but he pulls you off. “nuh uh baby, wanna fuck you.” he states, reaching for your boxers. you let him peel them off of you & then lay back on the bed. patrick crawls over you & spreads your thighs apart with his strong hands. “gonna make you feel real good.” he mutters, almost to himself as he lines himself up with your entrance. he shoots you a quick glance to make sure you’re okay, & the kind gesture in the middle of such a heated moment makes your clit twitch. he smirks like he knows & you’re about to tell him to shut up, but then he’s pushing in & the words die on your tongue.

“fuuuuuck.” patrick drags the word out, his mouth open & his eyes shut in bliss as he sinks into you. when he bottoms out he opens his eyes to check in with you. “good?” he asks. you nod & grab his hip, urging him to move. “patrick, i’m not made of glass.” you tease. “fuck me like you’re the only man who’s ever going to.” your words immediately light a fire in his eyes, & he pulls out only to slam back into you. “oh, so you want it like this?” he spits out, his hips rocking into you with speed that makes your eyes well with tears & your breaths come in gasps. “want me to take care of you huh?”

you nod as he continues to pull in & out of you, bringing you closer & closer to your climax. your arms wrap around him & you rake your nails down his back, feeling his hips kick into with more fervor at your actions. “so- so good, pat.” you manage to gasp out between thrusts. he grins. “yeah, feels good?” he mocks. you’re helpless to his goading, any sense of shame now long gone. his arms move to push your legs from around his hips to over his shoulders, reaching an even deeper spot inside you & making you whimper.

“yeah, that’s it, huh?” his eyes sparkle with delight at your reactions. you’re moments away from orgasming, & if the pulsing of his cock is anything to go by, patrick is too. “fuck, baby.” he exclaims, his confident facade falling for a moment to let you see just how good you’re making him feel. one of his hands slides from your thigh to your lower stomach, pressing down to hear you gasp at the sensation. “daddy’s gonna make a space for just for him right here, baby.” his words make you gasp & you clutch his arms, desperate to cling onto something solid while his hips continue drilling into you & his mouth continues spilling filth.

“no other man’s gonna fuck you like me.” he gasps out against your mouth, & you nod as he reaches down to brush your clit, sending you over the edge. you moan loudly as you orgasm, & patrick finishes inside you moments later with a moan of his own. he keeps thrusting shallowly for a few more seconds before pulling out, watching his cum drip out of your hole. “fuck.” he grins.

you can’t help but agree.

[hvlcy0n]

BETTER THAN ME . choji tomiyama x fem! reader

+ choji doesn’t understand what’s so great about your stupid boyfriend, but then it turns out that he’s even worse than choji imagined.

+ 5k words

+ SFW (account is 18+). UNEDITED. toxic relationship. infidelity. pining. reader’s feelings are ambiguous b/c of choji’s pov.

+ the dimensions of choji’s character are so interesting. like yeah umemiya might've rewired his brain but there's no way that early season one choji just VANISHED entirely. like he might be boyish and happy-go-lucky but he's still gotta be a little fucked up and selfish somewhere. i hope i at least landed somewhere on the target with this one, even if it's the veryyyyy edge.

choji despises your boyfriend.

everything was so much simpler—so much better—when you occupied a permanent spot at his side, your presence a comforting constant in the mayhem of his daily life. although you never donned shishitoren’s trademark yellow jacket, you were its backbone behind the scenes, a pillar of support that grounded choji and kept him tethered to reality so that he could continue serving as a proper leader. he trusted you implicitly, whether it was to catch him when he impetuously launched himself into your arms or to offer an unbiased opinion on his dilemmas. 

it was no wonder that he eventually caught feelings for you. he wasn’t sure when the shift happened—when the sight of the soft smile painting your lips and your skin bathed in sunlight first made his eyes widen and his heart thrum in his chest; when his first instinct at a whiff of danger became ensuring he was planted between you and whoever he perceived as a threat; or when he first found his gaze lingering on your petal–soft lips as you chattered on about nothing in particular. but, it happened. 

he initially intended to test his luck as soon as possible, but togame was quick to reel him in, lazily advising him to back off and let his feelings settle so that he wouldn’t cause unnecessary friction. he knew how choji could get when a pretty girl piqued his interest and how it would be a brief whirlwind of ecstasy, coquettish touches, and shiny novelty before it would inevitably fizzle out. relationships weren’t really choji’s thing—he itched for excitement and adrenaline, and his attention span was limited. even you knew that. while he could be a good friend and strong leader, being a proper lover was something else entirely. 

but, unlike the other girls that choji would go for, you were already so cemented into choji’s life that togame was concerned that pursuing his little cat–and–mouse games and temporary infatuation would upend your bond entirely and knock choji off balance if things went south. you, on the other hand, were a sharp contrast to choji. you were never one to entertain fleeting attention or allow yourself to get attached to someone with the knowledge that it won’t last. even if choji’s confession didn’t make things awkward, togame reasoned that you’ve witnessed so many of choji’s flings come and go that you likely wouldn’t even take his feelings into consideration. 

that was the downside to your close friendship, after all—you’ve personally shaken hands with every skeleton in choji’s closet, and that was something that could not be undone.

begrudgingly, choji obeyed. but, much to togame’s surprise, choji’s feelings did not waver when left unattended to. nothing about his emotions were transient, as his best friend had suspected. if anything, his taste for you intensified, pluming into an electric, white–hot craving that drew him into your orbit like a papery moth to flame. the thought of calling you his not only sparked a sense of exhilaration, but it also plucked at the strings of his heart and caused a ticklish warmth to seep through his entire body. 

this was different. choji didn’t just want to have you—he wanted to keep you. and before he knew it, fantasies began to permeate his thoughts. he relished the idea of showing up at your house unannounced for a sleepover and making chocolate chip cookies with you at midnight, of tagging along with you for your errands and dragging you with him for his, of being able to kiss and cuddle you simply because he wanted to, of feeling the weight of your gaze on him and only him.

it didn’t matter if you wished to swallow him whole—to engulf him in his entirety and dissolve him into ash. in fact, the thought alone was enough to make him shiver with anticipation.

he had to have you.

choji was never one to shy away from achieving his goals, so he became bolder with his touches, finding new reasons to casually have his hands somewhere on your body. the stray pinky that “accidentally” landed beneath the hem of your shirt when he grabbed you to startle you; the hands that rested on your stomach and waist just long to toe the line of platonic affection when he lunged to wrap you in one of his usual bear hugs; the way he would press up against you in bustling public areas because of course, there’s no space—he slowly pushed your boundaries, nudging you closer and closer to the edge. testing the waters. searching for any sign of rejection.

he delighted in the way you received his affections in stride. it was a positive sign, he thought—the way your eyebrows would raise in incredulity and your eyes would darken in disdain whenever a man would try to worm his way into casually touching you was never lost on choji. yet, there you were, giggling and chiding him lightly when he would nearly bowl you over or skip rings around you in his excitement to see you.

you never pushed him away. a tingle would shoot down his spine whenever you’d give his hair a congratulatory ruffle or hurriedly snatch him up by the back of his jacket and pull him closer to you to keep him from wandering into someone’s path. he wanted—no, needed—more of it. 

as far as he was concerned, you liked him. 

so, what the fuck happened?

choji’s progress came to a screeching halt one overcast afternoon when you popped up at a group hangout with some random guy he’s never seen before in tow. at first, choji believed he was a fan of shishitoren who you just happened to stumble upon with how eager he’d been to shake hands with choji. he was amicable and outgoing, introducing himself as “kenji” before proceeding to compliment choji’s sneakers and jacket.

at first, choji was welcoming toward the attention and spoke with him genially. but the light in his eyes flickered when he watched you sidle up to kenji and lock your arm around his own with a content smile. why were you so chummy with him? in choji’s eyes, he was plain and forgettable, without a single striking feature that would set him apart from the crowd. he was such a stark contrast to you that the possibility of you two dating was so far beyond reality that choji assumed you just had a wacky family tree. 

so, when you planted a kiss on his cheek and introduced kenji as your new boyfriend, choji’s entire body froze, and all he could manage was a monotonous “huh?” after a few seconds of silence. 

your boyfriend?

your boyfriend?

your boyfriend?

the shift in choji’s demeanor was palpable, the glow in his eyes dimming entirely as a shadow of bitterness and thinly veiled distaste settled over his amber irises. the group, noting the sudden souring of the atmosphere, observed choji with a restless unease as he stood there in silence. you were too distracted to notice, cheerful voice cleaving through the thick, heavy silence as you launched into a condensed version of how the two of you had met. but, choji didn’t hear a word you said. he was preoccupied with staring at the man you’d dragged up to him, gaze calculating and curious as it swept over him from head to toe. 

he didn’t understand.

why did you choose someone like him?

you were self–sufficient and valued a sense of ambition in the people you chose to associate yourself with. however, whereas choji at least had goals, kenji was revealed to not only be unemployed but to also not have even an inkling of an achievement he wished to attain. normally, choji would’ve understood someone’s decision to simply “vibe.” it wasn’t even that long ago when all he wanted to do was laugh and have fun, but it was different coming from him.

what’s worse, as choji’s gaze drifted over his physique, he became positive that if push came to shove, he would be too weak to even hope to protect you. what good would he be as a boyfriend if he wasn’t even strong enough to ensure your safety? would he even be willing to take a beating for you if he knew he was outmatched? probably not. you’d need someone to walk you home at night and watch your back, especially in this area. choji could do it. of course, he could.

but, there was still something unsettling about him that choji could certainly sense but couldn’t place. at the time, togame had thought he was only reacting that way because he’d beaten him to the punch, but choji was positive that something was off. and he did not like it.

what did you see in him?

the next couple months of choji’s life were dreadful. it was as if you’d been stripped from his life, your sudden absence leaving a gaping hole that he couldn’t manage to fill. you started spending all of your time with kenji, abandoning choji in your wake and leaving him to flop pitifully around on his couch and search for some way to temporarily alleviate the sting. you were hardly around anymore, and whenever he did see you, you were hanging off this guy’s arm like some decorative arm candy and smiling like he was the greatest thing since fucking sliced bread. it was infuriating.

if only he hadn’t listened to togame. if only he’d approached you first. if only he’d taken the leap. if only, if only, if only—all of these fucking missed opportunities. what was he doing? choji was always a risk–taker, someone who would shamelessly pursue their goals and plunge headfirst into the fray. why was he just sitting here?

there had to be something wrong with kenji—something choji could use to his advantage to convince you to dump him.

and by the grace of whatever higher being watching over him, choji’s prayers were answered. 

free of the rose–tinted lenses that obscured your gaze, choji was able to take note of certain behaviors that slowly began to appear once you two hit the three–month mark. the superficial, forced undertone to kenji’s smile as he listened to you talk, the way you’d often complain about him reading your texts but taking hours to respond, how nonchalant he became about asking to borrow money from you—all of it made choji’s chest swell with an odd combination of relief and anger. 

he could be perceptive when it counted, and it was as if his eyes were finally able to pierce straight through kenji’s facade and perceive him for who he truly was beneath the meticulously curated persona he’d stitched together for himself. 

and choji was right.

he didn’t deserve you.

choji could see it in the faint, dark crescents sunken into the skin below your eyes and the sorrowful distance in your gaze whenever you would occasionally zone out. that bastard was whittling you down, slowly yet steadily siphoning your energy straight from your body. all of the “borrowed” money that was never returned; the new fluctuations in kenji’s mood that would spike from mellow to angry whenever he didn’t get his way, only for him to later placate you with affection and gifts and beguile you into apologizing for upsetting him; the gradual increase in his influence over what clothes you wore—you were being reduced to an empty shell of yourself.

it was even worse when choji finally snapped and began to openly complain about your boyfriend, vehemently pointing out why you should leave him, and you resisted. frustrated tears glimmered in your eyes as you insisted that you were “just going through a rough patch,” and that things would get better soon. after all, when you’d been cast out and reeled in so many times it made your head spin, all you could do was wait to be invited back into his arms, just like always. 

after all, it wasn’t as if he’d cheated on you, you’d argued. that would be unforgivable. according to you, he was still a good boyfriend, just emotional and insecure, which were issues that could be remedied through effort. disloyalty had always been a dealbreaker for you in both friendships and relationships, and it was only choji’s luck that it was the one thing that piece of shit hadn’t failed at.

it wasn’t fucking fair.

choji was certain this would never be an issue if you’d chosen him. why can’t you see that even now?

you’d begged choji to give him a chance and hang out with him just once, and he’d see that kenji wasn’t so horrible after all. after all, kenji seemed to really like choji. at first, choji was adamant that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with him, but all of his whining and griping and foot stomping were no match for the teary, pleading look in your eyes. he finally agreed, but only on the condition that you would go with him to get ice cream afterward—without kenji. 

that was enough to satisfy you, so you arranged for the two of them to meet, both of them settling on a little diner in the seedy area of town. it just so happened that togame had business along the same street, so choji excitedly proposed that they walk together and then split off to their respective buildings. however, when togame agreed, he didn’t realize that he would be subjected to another one of choji’s rants about how much better he is than kenji for the duration of their journey.

“this is so unfair!” choji complains, crushing a weed peeking from a crack in the sidewalk beneath the sole of his sneaker. he turns on his heel to face togame, who’s quietly strolling along three paces behind choji with his hands tucked inside his jacket pockets. “don’t you think so, kame–chan?” he walks backward, doing his best to keep up with his friend’s ambling pace. “why should i have to go? i already know i don't like him, and i’m not gonna change my mind.” spinning to face forward once more, he uses his momentum to kick an empty aluminum can laying in his path, sending it careening down the pavement. "'s stupid."

“you’re going because you can’t tell her no.” togame remarks teasingly.

“nuh-uh! since when?” choji scrunches his nose. “i’m only going so i can check this guy out for myself."

“no, you’re not.” he shakes his head. “if you were, you wouldn’t have dragged your feet for twenty minutes and complained the entire time.”

“‘cause he’s weird!” choji insists. “i don’t really know exactly what it is, but there’s something off about him. i don’t like the way he looks at her. it makes me feel all gross.” 

“he’s her boyfriend.”

“well, he shouldn’t be!” choji shoves his hands into the pockets of his shishitoren jacket. “ever since he’s been around, she’s looked like death.” his eyes narrow slightly, the boyish tone to his voice quieting into something sobering, something serious. “she’s different, kame–chan, and i don’t know what to do. she won’t listen to me no matter what i say.” he grumbles the last sentence.

“i know what you mean,” togame hums. “unfortunately, she’s in pretty deep. i’m not sure there’s much you can do.”

“what's so cool about him, anyway? choji huffs. “i’m way stronger than him, especially after ume–chan taught me how to make my fists heavier. i can keep her safe from all the weird, creepy guys. and she thinks i’m funny.”

“initiative, probably.” he muses.

“hey!” choji barks out, pointing an accusatory finger in togame’s face. “you were the one who told me i should wait! i was gonna make a move.”

for a moment, togame is silent as he reflects on their previous conversation. “oh,” he murmurs, eyebrows raising in realization, “i guess i did. sorry, man.”

choji sighs theatrically and stretches both arms above his head. “nah, it’s cool.” he folds his hands behind his head. “it just pisses me off.” he mumbles. “i wish there was a way i could just break them up. she’d be way better off without him leeching off her.”

“choji,” a low warning rumbles in togame’s chest.

“huh? c’mon, you know i’m right!” 

“i agree,” togame sighs, “but you can’t just run around interfering with people’s relationships.”

“well, yeah, duh. but this is different.” choji argues. when togame doesn’t look convinced, he presses on. “he never texts her back, he’s always borrowing money, and i don’t like the way he talks to her.” he ticks off the list on his fingers before shoving all three fingers in togame’s peripheral. “that’s three strikes, kame–chan. three."

togame nudges his hand aside. “i didn’t realize you were suddenly the king of relationships.” he snorts, and choji frowns, catching his dig at his past romances. “so, you got a plan?”

ah, a plan. he didn’t get that far.

choji practically deflates. “i mean, not really . . .” but then, he comes back to life the next moment, eyes gleaming. “but i’ll think of one!”

togame chuckles and reaches over to ruffle his friend’s hair. “yeah, you might have to wait this one out.” 

choji sighs heavily and returns his attention to his surroundings. he’s never been fond of this area, which was home to various pubs, run–down motels, and sordid love hotels; but kenji suggested the diner in the vicinity, and choji truly didn’t care where the two of them ended up. but, the more he considered it, the more curious he was about such a decision. is it some kind of a set–up? he sure hopes not; he’s wearing his brand new sneakers, and blood is too dark to blend in with the bright red fabric. at least he'll get there early enough to be able to scope the place out beforehand.

“ugh, i hate this place.” choji grumbles, scrunching his nose.

“me too,” togame admits. “‘s a shame that the only place they sell that limited edition ramune is smack in the middle of all this.” he gestures loosely to the towering buildings around them. “oh, yeah, turn left at the next corner. we’re still a couple blocks away.”

choji nods. “got it. but anyway, just buy a bunch of ‘em all at once,” he advises. “it’ll be easier that way, and you won’t have to come back as often! oh, oh! that reminds me! did you know that—”

“wait.” togame’s footsteps cease abruptly, and choji slows to a halt with him, puzzled.

“what’s up? something wrong?”

for a moment, togame stays silent, but choji takes note of the way his brows knit together and his eyes flicker to and fro as if attempting to comprehend the scene unfolding before him. “the hell is that?” he nods at something across the street, and choji curiously follows his line of sight.

no way.

no way, no way.

choji’s eyes widen in surprise when he spots kenji ducking out of some filthy alley a little way down the street, tailed by a dainty blonde who giggles and tugs at the hem of her denim miniskirt as if trying to smooth out the fabric. his heart pounds as he witnesses kenji hook a hand around her waist to draw her in and whisper something in her ear. there is nothing platonic about their embrace or the way the girl gazes up at him through her lashes, which means no chance of mistaking this as a friendship.

as choji stands there, not daring to breathe and the incessant throb of his heart echoing in his ears, a moment of clarity washes over him.

kenji is cheating on you.

a tangle of emotions engulfs choji’s mind. at first, there’s disbelief. in one fell swoop, it swallows him up like a torrent of icy water, shocking him down to the bone and causing a numbing sensation to bleed through his stiff body all the way to his extremities. all he can do is stand there motionlessly, processing. he can’t believe the irony of the situation—the opportunity that just tumbled its way into his lap. to be practically handed proof of the one thing that choji needs to have your boyfriend kicked out of your life—he almost can’t believe it.

once he realizes the truth of the situation, an effervescent, ticklish flood of joy sweeps away the stupefaction. he was right all along. a huff of incredulous laughter is kicked from his chest, a wide, cheshire smile spreading over his lips. he was right. he knew kenji was a shitty boyfriend. he knew he wasn’t the one for you. you had to break up with him now!

but, before long, his smug grin begins to wither as anger sets in. it’s a slow crescendo. lava wells in the pit of his stomach, bubbling and roiling and churning as it begins to rise higher and higher, scorching him from the inside out until heat thrums beneath his skin and any remaining glee is set ablaze. kenji is cheating on you. how could he? how dare he? suddenly, choji’s fingertips itch for a fight, hands balling into fists at his sides. 

he doesn’t even register that his body has launched itself forward until togame’s hand is clamping down on his wrist with an iron grip, halting him in his tracks and bringing him back down to earth. “whoa! you can’t just go chargin’ in.” togame flinches at the fire in choji’s eyes when he snaps his head around to glare at him, but he still doesn’t release him. 

“let go.” choji’s voice is monotonous, but the energy vibrating in his body is anything but.

“i’m doin’ you a favor here, man.” togame keeps his voice low to keep kenji from noticing them. “listen. if you go runnin’ up and knock his lights out, he’ll just go cryin’ back to her, and she’ll drop you for good. you need proof.”

proof.

there’s a beat of silence before choji snaps out of it, his indignation tempered by a sudden wash of lucidity as he realizes that togame is right. “ah . . . oh! good thinking. uh . . . a picture!” the idea flashes through his mind, and he hastily looks to his friend. “quick, take a picture!” he urges, having now returned to his usual exuberant self. “before they stop being all mushy!”

“uh . . . wait, okay.” blanching in the face of a time crunch, togame finally lets go of choji’s wrist in favor of anxiously fishing around in his pocket for his phone.

“hurry, hurry!”

“i got it,” togame yanks his phone free, only for choji to groan when togame begins fumbling with it, the perspiration on his palms causing the device to slip in his grasp. “the camera app . . . the camera . . .”

“gimme that!” choji snatches it out of togame’s hand and rushes to open the camera app. he feels as though he may burst a blood vessel when he centers kenji and the girl in the image and has to wait for the lens to focus properly. “come on, come on,” his tongue pokes out in concentration as his thumb hovers over the camera icon. 

he isn’t sure how many pictures he took, having spammed the button so relentlessly that the entire screen shone white for a split second. but with their blatant disregard for the public eye, he’s positive that each one is incriminating enough that kenji can’t weasel his way out of any accusations cast his way. he feels a stab of satisfaction as he tucks togame’s phone into his jacket pocket, blissfully ignorant to togame’s awkwardly extended hand.

“let’s go say hi,” choji leans forward slightly, gaze alight with a twisted thrill that sends chills down togame’s spine. his hand shoots up in an energetic wave. “oh, kenj—”

togame’s calloused hand slaps over choji’s mouth, muffling his voice. “don’t do that!” he scolds, leaving choji to stare at him with rounded eyes. “what if—” he recoils sharply when he feels choji’s tongue drag across his palm, and he instantly snatches his hand away, face contorted in revulsion. “ew, that’s disgusting, dude. you can’t just lick people.”

“why can’t i?” choji fires back.

“‘cause it’s nasty—”

“not that.”

“oh,” togame wipes his friend’s saliva off on his pants, grimacing. “you mean talkin’ to him? ‘cause,” he expels a long breath, “if you let him know now that you caught him, he’ll have time to think of a lie before he sees her next. you gotta let her bring it up so she can see how guilty he is for herself.”

“mm,” choji hums. “you sure that’ll work?”

“i might’ve screwed up before,” togame nods to where kenji and the girl are saying their goodbyes, “but i’m positive ‘bout this one.” he turns to face choji, and choji blinks. “i’ll send you the pictures. you should go see her now since kenji’s gonna be busy waiting for you at the diner. she may have been forgiving,” his eyes drift lazily back to kenji just in time to watch him slink off into the alley once more, “but i don’t think she will be this time around.”

yeah. choji shifts his attention back to where kenji and the girl once stood. that’s right. you don't harbor even the slightest tolerance for infidelity. when you see the photos, you’ll dump him for sure, and choji will be there when it happens. watching. waiting. the first one to comfort you. the first one to pull you into his arms and soak up your tears. the first one to witness the tumultuous storm of wounded pride and heartbreak that will inevitably envelop your mind and rip you apart at the seams. 

and when you finally—finally—shatter, choji will be there to collect the pieces.

that’s what “friends” are for, right?