#you can clearly see he’s feeling himself and i love that too

[sigilslvt]

JEALOUSY • DRABBLE

☣︎ Summary: The men all have their reasons for getting jealous around you. But how exactly do they react when they feel the threat is much more real? SURELY, they’re rational, right?

Includes: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami

Tags: fem! reader, friends to lovers, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, teasing, bulging, pussy eating, choking, breeding, praise, overstim, possessiveness, threatened gun violence, toxic possessiveness, car sex, dry humping, rough sex, squirting, pining, premature ejaculation, love bombing, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, true form sukuna, slight angst

WC: 13.1k

A/N: I cackled writing Choso’s, my poor baby is too precious 😩💜

༒︎ Gojo Satoru ༒︎

You pull into the gas station because, once again, your car is on its last leg. Satoru’s been absolutely useless this entire car ride, lounging like some kind of overgrown housecat, sunglasses crooked on his nose, humming the most obnoxious song he can think of just to get under your skin. His long legs are kicked up on your dashboard like he’s king of the world.

“Finally, a pit stop,” he says, stretching dramatically. “I was starting to think you’d just run us out of gas for fun. You know, to create a bonding moment.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, putting the car in park. “Stay in the car. Not that I have to tell you that.”

He snickers, not even looking up from whatever weird little game he’s playing on his phone. “Sure thing, sugar. Let me know if you need me to heroically pump the gas for you. I’ll try not to make it look too easy.”

You ignore him because giving him attention only makes it worse. You grab your wallet and step out, the cold air biting at your face as you swipe your card and get ready to fill the tank as quickly as possible so you can return to the cocoon of warmth that is your car. You’re in your own little zone, minding your business, when a voice breaks through the quiet.

“Hey there! Need some help?”

You glance up, startled, and see a guy walking over. He’s got that effortless, small-town-boy charm, the kind of guy who probably calls everyone “ma’am” and knows how to fix a tractor. He’s smiling, too— a little too widely, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s taking the pump right out of your hands.

“Oh, I had it,” you say, trying to be polite, but this guy is already on a roll.

“Nah, no worries,” he says, grinning. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t have to pump their own gas. It’s just not right.”

You blink at him, caught somewhere between confusion and being impressed, because— wow. Is this really happening?

You glance back at your car, hoping Gojo hasn’t noticed, but as soon as your eyes land on his, you know you’re doomed. He’s sitting up now, sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, staring at you both like he’s just been served the juiciest gossip of the year. His grin is growing and you’re sure he’s ready to put on a show.

Before you can stop him, he throws open the car door and steps out like he’s been summoned to the stage. He stretches unnecessarily— arms up, head tilted back, like he’s on the cover of a sports magazine— and then saunters over, hands in his pockets, looking way too pleased with himself.

The gas station guy looks up, noticing Gojo for the first time. His smile falters just a little. “Oh, uh… hey. Didn’t realize you had someone with you.”

Satoru’s already grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he says, waving a hand. “I’m just her boyfriend. You know, the adoring, perfect, doting one who pumps her gas all the time.”

You groan. “Toru—”

“What? I’m just saying, it’s cute that you’re trying to help, bud,” he says, turning back to the guy with a grin so wide it’s almost terrifying. “But this is kind of my thing. I know she’s just the sweetest, but she’s taken.You get it, right? Yeah, you get it.”

The poor guy blinks, clearly unsure if Satoru’s joking or about to start something. “Uh, yeah, no problem,” he mutters, handing the pump back to you like it’s radioactive. “You two have a good day.”

“Oh, we will!” Gojo chirps, giving him a little salute. “And hey, nice try, man. Better luck next time.”

The guy doesn’t even look back. He practically sprints back to the safety of the gas station, and as soon as he’s gone, you turn to Toru, crossing your arms and pursing your lips in annoyance.

“What the hell was that?”

“What was what?” he asks, feigning innocence as he leans casually against the car. “I was just making sure no one stole my job. You know how much I love pumping your gas.”

You gape at him. “You’ve never pumped gas in your life!”

“Exactly,” he says smugly. “That’s what makes this moment so special. It’s a sacred duty.”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “You’re so insufferable.”

“And yet,” he says, draping an arm around your shoulders, “you love me. Isn’t that wild?”

“Whatever. I’m gonna get a snack. Want something?” you roll your eyes and start walking toward the station.

“I’ll come with, I’m craving something sweet.” he smirks with a look in his eyes that you can’t quite discern.

You raise a brow and walk with him, entering the gas station with the goal to grab a bag of chips and water, but the second you head for them, your hand is being trapped by Satoru’s and he’s tugging you toward the bathroom. You shoot him a look of confusion and annoyance, but he pays it no mind as he yanks you inside, closing the door behind you and pressing you against it.

“Toru, wha—”

“Told you I wanted something sweet, sugar. Bend over a little f’me.” he instructs, turning you so you’re facing the door. Your palms lay flat against it, trying to use it as leverage to turn yourself, but he presses your head to the door, too, his strong palm mushing your cheeks to it, sucking his teeth in disapproval.

“You’re insane, w-we’re in a gas station,” you try to reason with him, but his hand’s already shoved up your skirt and peeling down your panties. “Satoru, seriously…”

“Y’telling me to stop? She’s cryin’ f’me, though, I think she’ll be so sad if I don’t give her what she wants,” he purrs, getting to his knees and littering kisses on the fat of your ass. “C’mere, baby.”

You’re lost to him the moment he stuffs his face into your already dripping cunt, bucking yourself back against him and into the feel of his greedy tongue slipping between your folds and down, down, down to your clit. You can feel him smirking against you when he draws out a long shaky whine from your lips between your panting and while normally his cockiness would annoy you beyond belief, it instead turns you on more. And yet—

“Wh-hah— why couldn’t this wait until we got to the hotel?” you ask, nails scraping down the door when he plunges his tongue into your twitching hole.

He pulls away for a moment, spreading your ass to spit a glob of saliva between your folds and slurp it back up while sucking your clit. No answer. You huff and tremble, unsure of how long you’ll be able to keep yourself standing if he’s just gonna keep eating you like a man starved.

You try, you really do, to keep your voice down, but when his tongue hits that spot inside of your gummy walls, his hand between your thighs and thumb working on your clit, you can’t help but let your moans slip out. And oh, does that make him even more unrelenting. His thumb draws circles on your clit quicker and with more pressure, his tongue fucking into you as rough as can be. 

Your eyelids flutter closed, breathing labored as you feel that sweet sweet build up that you love so much. He knows what comes next and while normally, he’d see you to the end, this time he stops, earning a frown from your pretty face.

“Wh-why’d y—” you start.

“Y’mine, say it.”

“What? Toru, what’s—”

“Say. It. Say y’mine… say y’love me and I’ll make you cum so good, sugar, I promise.” he all but whines.

You don’t know why it needs to be said or what’s going on with him, but you’ll be damned if you let your orgasm escape you. With every second that passes, it runs from you, so you give him what he needs. “I’m yours, baby. I love you.” you coo.

“Again.” he huffs against your cunt, making your knees weak. He’s so close. You’re so close.

“I love y— hah,” your breath escapes you when he delves his tongue back into your pulsing hole. “Fuuuuck… I love you, I love you, I l— fuck!” your cunt tries it’s best to grip his tongue, but he fucks it into you with more force as you cum on it, losing strength in your legs and slumping down while your brain goes dumb with pleasure.

He holds you up, tongue slipping out of you and back to your clit, his head shaking side to side while he licks at your clit, overstimulating you beyond belief. All you can do is cry out for mercy, palms battering at the bathroom door as you raise your white flag.

With that, he frees you from the sweet torture, massaging your thighs and resting back on his ankles. “I’m pumping your gas from now on.” he huffs.

Coming back to your senses, you realize why he pulled this stunt off. “Satoru. Were you… jealous!?” you chuckle in disbelief.

“I’ve got nothing to be jealous about, it seems. What with the ‘I love you, I love you, I—’” he mocks you while standing up and you smack his arm.

“Sh-shut up.” You huff, pouting as he puts your panties back in place, dolling you back up and kissing your shoulder.

“Nope. But you’re gonna wish you had when the poor guy out there’s blushing redder than red.” he teases. Your eyes widen and you cover your mouth with your hand when you realize he had to have heard everything.

“You’re insane.” your voice is muffled by your hand.

“Insane’s one word for it,” he smirks. “I like to say I’m just crazy for you.”

Not long later, you’re climbing back into the car. Satoru follows, flopping into the passenger seat with a contented sigh like he’s just won a marathon.

As you pull out of the station, he stretches again, kicking his feet up on the dash like he owns the place. “You know,” he says casually, “you should really thank me. That guy was totally about to ask for your number. I saved you from a very awkward situation.”

And you could quite literally kill him.

༒︎ Geto Suguru ༒︎

The room is buzzing with conversation, a polite undercurrent of tension that doesn’t escape you. Cult leaders and their followers mill about in finely tailored clothes, exchanging calculated smiles and empty pleasantries. You’re trying your best to look engaged, but your thoughts keep drifting to Suguru.

He stands a few feet away, surrounded by a small circle of curse users, his tall frame commanding attention with ease. His black robes flow elegantly around him, his long hair tied back neatly. The faint smirk on his face, the calm way he speaks— it all oozes confidence. Control. Every now and then, he glances in your direction, his sharp eyes softening for just a moment before flicking back to the conversation.

You’re nursing a drink near the refreshment table when someone sidles up beside you.

“Ah, I was hoping I’d get the chance to meet you,” a smooth voice says.

You turn to see a tall man in a perfectly tailored suit, his polished appearance almost too pristine. His expression is warm but calculated, and his sharp eyes are already fixed on you. Takeda. You recognize him instantly— leader of a large, influential cult. Non-sorcerer, but powerful in his own way.

“Good evening,” you reply, forcing a polite smile. They have their role to play, Geto tells you, so you make sure to keep appearances with non-sorcerers despite their usual poor attitude toward you.

He smiles wider. “Good evening, indeed. I couldn’t help but notice you standing here all by yourself. It seems almost criminal for someone as lovely as you to be left alone at an event like this.”

You feel your cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment, a small flush creeping up your neck. “I’m not alone. I’m here with my boyfriend,” you say, gesturing subtly in Suguru’s direction.

Takeda follows your gaze and chuckles softly. “Suguru Geto. Of course. I’ve heard much about him.” His attention snaps back to you, and his smile turns almost wolfish. “I must admit, though, I’m surprised. I didn’t think someone so… captivating would end up with a man who seems so creepy… Besides, I’m sure he’s always so busy. Too busy to truly appreciate a beauty like you.”

Your face heats further, and you stammer, “He’s not too busy. He’s just—”

Before you can finish, he takes your hand in his and presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles. It’s old-fashioned, deliberate, and enough to leave you momentarily stunned. Not in awe, but in pure shock. He’s bold, you’ll give him that.

Your breath catches, and you feel a wave of heat rush to your face. You try to pull your hand back, but his grip is firm— not unkind, but enough to make you falter. You can’t ruin appearances by hurting him, so you allow it, praying he’ll give up soon.

“A pleasure meeting you,” he murmurs, his lips still ghosting over your skin.

And then you feel it— the air shifting suddenly. A heavy, familiar presence fills the space around you, and Takeda finally releases your hand. You glance over your shoulder to see Suguru a few feet away, his dark eyes fixed on the two of you as he approaches.

“Takeda,” Suguru says smoothly, his tone light but carrying a weight that makes your stomach flip because you know better.

Takeda straightens and flashes a smile that’s far too confident. “Geto. What a pleasure to see you,” He gestures toward you. “I was just introducing myself to your lovely partner. She’s quite… enchanting.”

Suguru’s lips twitch, curving into a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m aware.”

There’s a pause, the kind that feels too loud in the quiet. Suguru’s gaze flickers briefly to your hand before returning to Takeda.

“I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable,” he continues softly.

Takeda chuckles nervously, clearly unsure of how to respond. Geto’s not usually the type to be confrontational in public. It’s normally all smiles and politics for him, so this has Takeda stunned. “I meant no disrespect, of course.”

Suguru hums thoughtfully. “No disrespect… Of course not.” He tilts his head slightly, his smile sharpening. “But you’d do well to remember your place, Takeda. Admiration is one thing. Touching, however…” He trails off, his tone turning razor-sharp, dark eyes honing in on the poor man’s. “That’s dangerous, especially for someone like you.”

Takeda falters, his polished demeanor cracking for just a moment. “I— I’ll keep that in mind,” he mutters before excusing himself and retreating into the crowd.

As soon as he’s gone, Suguru turns to you, his sharp expression softening slightly. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just looking at you in a way that makes your stomach twist.

“You seemed… flustered,” he says finally, his voice quiet but probing.

Your cheeks burn, and you look away. “I wasn’t, he just caught me off guard,” you mumble.

Suguru steps closer, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Are you sure? Because from where I was standing…” He pauses, his voice dropping. “It looked like you didn’t mind it.”

“Suguru—”

“Did you like it?” he interrupts, his tone impossibly soft, almost vulnerable. “A weakling holding your hand, kissing it like that… Did you enjoy it?” 

Your heart twists at the faint frown tugging at his lips, the rare glimpse of uncertainty in his usually composed expression. That’s when you recognize the look in his eye. It isn’t anger, it’s fear. Insecurity. Things you never expected to see from him.

“No,” you say quickly, reaching for him. “Of course not. I could never, baby.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze flickering over your face as if searching for any sign of dishonesty. Finally, he exhales softly and takes your hand in his, his thumb brushing over the spot where Takeda’s lips had been.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm.

He leads you down a hallway, wanting to be away from the noise and chatter of the convention. When he pushes open the door to an empty room and pulls you inside, the silence feels almost deafening in comparison to everything on the outside.

Suguru closes the door and turns to face you, his dark eyes heavy with emotion. Without a word, he cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Say it,” he whispers, his voice raw.

“Say what?” you ask softly, your hands resting on his chest.

“That you’re mine,” he breathes, his forehead pressing against yours. “That you wouldn’t leave me for some monkey.”

Your heart aches at the quiet desperation in his tone. “I’m yours, of course I’m yours.” You whisper, your hands curling into his robes. “Always.”

The next thing you know, his lips are melting yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more insistent. When he pulls back, his breathing is uneven, and his eyes are darker than ever.

“Again,” he all but whines, his lips trailing down to your jaw. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Suguru,” you repeat, your voice racing as your heart squeezes. “Only yours.”

He exhales sharply, his hands sliding down to grip your waist. “Good,” he whispers, moreso to himself. “Good… because I need you.”

You nod, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses you again, this time with a desperation that feels like he’s trying to erase every trace of Takeda’s touch from your skin.

His nails dig into your sides, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, tasting all that you have— all that you are. He’s needy, moving to hoist you up and hook your legs around his waist.

Your dress rides up your thighs and he wastes no time gripping at the fat of them, subtly rolling his hips into you in a way that tells you he may just be doing it subconsciously. Gasps are shared between your lips as he kisses you a few more times before moving to swipe his tongue up your neck, stopping just under your jaw and sucking a big fat hickey into the crevice.

It feels so good that you almost don’t notice the way his hands are working their way down, down, down to your ass, pulling you into him with every roll of his hips. You feel how hard he is even through his robes, unable and unwilling to stop yourself from sliding the top of his gojogesa off his broad shoulders. You’re dipping your head down to pepper kisses all over his shoulder while he marks you up, your nails leaving marks of their own on his skin from how hard you’re gripping him.

You know what this is. Know what he needs. You’d be a fool to stop him from taking it. “Sugu… here.” You tell him, emphasizing your words by rolling your hips in tandem with his.

You swear you hear him growl as he tears his lips from your throat and grips your underwear on one side to tear them off, your eyes widening at the action. Suguru’s normally a calm, calculated man, even when he makes love to you, everything is suave and he’s always in control, but now? Now, he’s become someone entirely different. Someone needy. Someone eager to prove a point. To stake a claim.

“Here, angel.” Is all you hear before your mouth is stuffed with your own underwear and– when did he whip his dick out? You’ve got no idea, but it’s plugged into you before you can react, a long and grateful groan just spilling from Suguru’s lips like he’s finally laying in bed after a long day of hard labor. He’s home. Your head falls back against the door and he uses the opportunity to attack your neck again, littering the skin with kisses, licks, and the occasional bite.

He’s got no rhyme or rhythm in his thrusts, he simply ruts into you with a force that has the door shaking, the metal bar rattling and making your stomach lurch with fear at the fact that it could so easily be pushed for you two to end up on display for everyone. The fear falls away soon, however, replaced with nothing but pleasure when he’s targeting that wonderful gummy little bullseye that makes you go dumb on his cock.

Your eyes start searching for something in the back of your head, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth and soaking your underwear as your shaky moans are muffled by the fabric. And you don’t know when it started, but your ears tune into Suguru whining the same thing repeatedly. “Mine, all mine, mine, mine, mine—” again and again and again with every punctuated thrust targeting your poor cervix.

Your nails rake down his back, hoping to find some sort of balance to compensate for the fact that your legs are beginning to ragdoll, no strength left in them as they flop by his sides with every thrust. Except, you don’t have to worry. No, his grip on you is bruising, he never wants to let you go.

And you wish you could see his face in this moment. See how he looks when he’s so adamant about proving it to himself that you’re his. Before you know it, you’re snaking a hand into his hair and tugging his head back, earning a needy little whine from his puffy lips before he’s looking at you. Oh, is he looking at you. Like you’re the world. Like you’re salvation. His brows are drawn tightly together, a pout on his lips that tells you he’d be nothing without you. God, you wanna kiss him. Wanna tell him a million times over that you’d never even think of another.

The look on your face tells him exactly what you want, you think, because in the next instant, he’s tearing the underwear from your mouth and crushing his lips into yours. His thrusts have rhythm now, his hips fucking into you with urgency. Every time his thick cock slips past your puffy folds, you’re inched closer, oh so closer to cumming and your stomach draws tight at the feeling. He’s chasing both of your orgasms, not once missing that spongey little spot that makes you see stars as he pounds you into the door, your voice sounding out to God knows how many people are in the hallway while you kiss him, your drool now slipping down his chin.

You hear him groan into the kiss as his hips start to falter– he’s close. And yet, while his rhythm is lost, his force is worse. Every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge until you’re right there. “I love you,” he whines against your lips before breaking away and letting his head fall back. “I love you, I love you, I. Fucking. Love. You.” He punctuates the last repetition with a thrust for each word, cumming on the very last one along with you, who couldn’t help but cum at the words he’s never said before.

You two had been together for a year. A whole year and not once had Suguru ever uttered the words. You always knew he wasn’t an emotional man, so you never expected to hear the words. You felt it, though. His care for you. It was in his actions. How he never forgot an important date, how he would always bring home food or a treat or flowers for you, how he loathed being away from you for any given reason. And yet, the words still shock you.

He ruts into you a few more times before he stills, nothing to be heard except for your breaths shared between each other until his eyes go wide– perhaps in realization of what he’s just said, and he kisses you. Softer this time. More sure of himself. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he’s confessed.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Don’t let anyone else touch you like that again,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. Not angry, not upset, just… needy.  “I don’t care who it is. I won’t stand for it. Even if you don’t love me like I love you, I just can’t bear to see that again.”

You smile and offer a tired chuckle, brushing his hair back from his face. “Y’know, for someone usually so calculated and knowing, you sure are stupid,” you shake your head softly. “I love you, too. More, actually.”

His lips press against your temple, and he exhales slowly, the tension in his body finally easing. “Not possible,” he murmurs again, his voice soft. You can hear his smile in it. “Nobody’s ever loved anyone like I love you.”

༒︎ Toji Fushiguro ༒︎

You aren’t sure if dragging Toji to your high school reunion is a brilliant idea or the worst decision you’ve made all year. On one hand, you know he can charm the socks off anyone when he wants to, all cocky smirks and lazy grins that send shivers down your spine. On the other hand, he doesn’t exactly thrive in situations that involve niceties and polite small talk—especially with people he doesn’t give a shit about. Still, you’ve convinced him, mostly because you want to show him off. He’s hot, and he’s yours. What’s the point if you can’t gloat a little?

Toji is surprisingly well-behaved for most of the evening. He nurses a glass of bourbon with his usual swagger, leaning against the bar and throwing you looks that tell you that he’ll be waiting for you to make this worth his while later. He even manages to avoid scaring off too many of your old classmates, though you catch the occasional side-eye when he’s not so subtle about telling them to fuck off. Everything’s going smoothly.

That is, of course, until he notices you talking to him.

You don’t mean to bump into your ex-boyfriend. Really, you don’t. But there he is, standing near the drink table with the same easy grin you remember from your teenage years. He calls your name, and before you can stop yourself, you’re smiling back and walking over. Toji’s gaze burns into your back the entire way.

“Wow, you look amazing,” your ex says, his tone warm but casual. It’s just an observation— a compliment between old friends, but you can just feel the way Toji’s teeth grind from across the room.

“Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself,” you reply, keeping your tone light. The conversation flows easily, filled with harmless reminiscing about old high school antics. Nothing romantic. Nothing serious. Just memories of embarrassing pranks, favorite teachers, and the god-awful cafeteria food.

But you know Toji. You don’t have to look to know he’s watching, his sharp green eyes narrowing every time your ex laughs or steps just a little too close. You can practically hear the internal dialogue: “Who the fuck does this guy think he is?”

Then your ex does it. The thing you know is going to push Toji over the edge.

He hugs you.

It’s quick and friendly, a casual embrace to say goodbye. But as soon as your ex’s arms wrap around you, you feel your body being eaten up by your boyfriend’s shadow. You pull back quickly, about to turn to Toji to defuse whatever storm is brewing, but it’s too late.

He moves quickly— silent and deadly. One second, he’s leaning against the bar. The next, he’s standing behind you, his presence towering and suffocating. His hand rests on the back of your neck, deceptively casual as he leans in close.

“I dunno why yer touchin’ her, pal,” Toji drawls, his voice low and dangerous, “but don’t let it happen again.”

Your ex blinks, clearly startled by the sudden shift in atmosphere. “I… sorry? I was just saying goodb—”

Toji’s hand moves and you worry he may actually hit the poor guy. “Oh, shit.”

“You gonna say goodbye, then get the fuck outta here,” Toji says, his grin sharp and feral as he subtly lifts his sweater just enough to reveal the gun tucked into his waistband. “Before I decide you don’t need yer legs.”

Your ex’s eyes go wide and he stumbles over himself to retreat, mumbling something about it being nice to see you before practically sprinting away. You don’t even have time to scold Toji before security is suddenly very interested in the two of you.

Five minutes later, you’ve been escorted out of the venue, Toji’s hand resting possessively on the small of your back. You wait until you’re alone in the parking lot to whirl on him.

“Seriously?” you hiss, smacking his arm. “You pulled a gun on him?!”

“Relax, doll,” Toji says, his grin infuriatingly smug. “I didn’t even take it out.”

You groan, stomping toward the car. You reach for the passenger door, but before you can open it, his arm shoots out, blocking your path.

“Nah,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Yer sittin’ in the back with me.”

“What, am I in trouble now? Gonna spank me?” you ask sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

Toji doesn’t answer. He just opens the back door and shoves you inside, sliding in next to you and shutting the door behind him. You cross your arms, giving him a pointed glare. It doesn’t take long before he’s sulking.

He leans back against the seat, legs spread wide, and huffs like an overgrown child. “Wasn’t jealous,” he mutters.

You snort. “Sure you weren’t.”

“Ain’t funny,” he grumbles, glaring at you.

You can’t resist pushing him just a little further. “If you’re not jealous, then you won’t mind if I go back inside to grab his number. Y’know, for old times’ sake.”

His head snaps toward you, his jaw tightening. In one quick motion, he turns, caging you against the seat with his arms. “The fuck you just say?”

“You heard me,” you say, smirking. “If you’re not jealous, it shouldn’t bother you.”

Toji’s eyes narrow, and the tension in the car shifts again, but this time it isn’t anger. It’s something else entirely. He leans in until his nose brushes yours, his voice dropping to a low growl.

“Ain’t about bein’ jealous,” he says, his breath warm against your lips. “Ain’t nobody else touchin’ my girl. Don’t care what reason they have.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you closer as his lips ghost along your jawline. His touch is possessive, his grip firm enough to leave no room for argument. You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine.

“Toji…” you start, but he cuts you off with a low chuckle.

“Nah, you’ve been mouthin’ off thinkin’ yer cute,” he says, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. “Time to shut that pretty mouth o’ yours.”

He's enjoying himself, towering over you in the confined space of the car, the sunlight streaming in from the windows only highlighting the wolfish grin that spreads across his face.

“You’re so—”

"Hm?" He hums, his hand already snaking down your side, easily slipping under the hem of your dress as he plants a kiss onto the side of your neck. "Y' got somethin' t' say, doll?" 

His fingers dance on your skin, inching closer and closer to the spot he knows will make you weak in the knees. He's toying with you, getting a kick out of your restraint as you try to formulate words again. But before you can finish even a syllable, he cuts you off.

"Save it, sweetheart. Was gonna be nice 'nd all when we got home t’night, but you had to go and run that pretty mouth with yer ex." He growls lowly in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “So while yer getting yer brains fucked stupid, I want you t’remember… this is on you.”

With a rough grasp, he flips you onto your stomach in the backseat, your dress riding up your ass as he yanks your panties down with a swift tug, the cool air hitting it and making your hole clench around nothing. His dick is hard and straining against his pants, pre seeping through to form a dark spot. The anticipation of what's to come has your breath hitching, heat pooling between your legs. He leans over you, the weight of his body pressing down onto yours.

He’s rutting against your ass, one hand sliding up to toy with one of your nipples while his other hand massages your hip. God, if you could see the needy little look on your face right now, then he’d finally get you to understand just why he’s so addicted to you. You’re just so gluttonous for him. Always wanting more, more, more. And of course, he’s always willing to give.

But right now isn’t the moment for giving. No, he needs to take. To take and take and take until there’s no more left of you to give to anyone but him. Always him. He backs away just enough for him to unzip his pants, his cock springing free. His hand finds it immediately, stroking himself in slow, teasing motions, hard length throbbing against your bare ass. There's a devilish grin on his face as he utters, "Gonna show ‘er how much she needs me."

Without waiting for a response, he aligns himself with your sobbing cunt, teasing your folds with his thick head just swiping back and forth and mixing his pre into your skick. He groans at the contact, his hand gripping your hip tighter. Suddenly, with a swift thrust, he plunges himself deep, his girth stretching you so mind numbingly good that you fear you may just pass out. The thing is, he’s barely in, but the sensation is already overwhelming, causing you to gasp and buck your hips.

He wishes you knew how fucking good you feel. Wishes you knew that whenever he fucks you, that tight ring of resistance tries so hard to push him out. That is, until he’s fucked his fat tip into you a few times, because then you’re practifally sucking him in. He knows the stretch is a lot. Knows you’re sore hours later without fail and yet, you still beg for more. Just like now.

Words are failing you, but your look is enough. You want more. Need more than just his tip. You wanna be broken in. And so he does. He feeds you inch after inch of him, sitting up and pausing at the halfway point to admire the way your cunt looks swallowing him so eagerly. He grasps at the globes of your ass, jiggling them and biting his lower lip at the God granted sight.

His free hand moves to the back of your head, fingers snaking into your hair before he grips tightly and brings your head up so he can press your face into the window. And just light that, he fucks the rest of himself into you roughly, grunting.

"Fuckin’— take it," he rasps out, taking a brief moment to adjust to the feeling of your tightness around him, unable to resist a little moan of his own. Then, he starts moving. Slow and punishing at first, then picking up speed with the same punishing force. Each thrust is precise and purposeful, perfectly hitting that spot inside you that makes you feel fuzzy. He's unabashedly vocal too, grunting and groaning with each delicious slide in and out of your wetness. "Fuck... y' take my cock so good..." he compliments, pushing your face harder into the back window. 

Easing up on his grip on your waist, he rolls his hips, grinding against your ass before pulling out for just a moment to slap his tip against your folds, watching as your cunt twitches and then thrusting back in again. His actions are deliberate and controlled, meant to stir you up and drive you to your limit. 

"Please baby, please, please, please..." you moan helplessly, your words swallowed up by the sounds of your bodies slapping together and his grunts of pleasure. But he merely chuckles darkly, gripping your hip and pressing your face against the window harder as if to anchor himself and punish you at the same time, his thrusts never faltering. 

"Y' can gimme more than that," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans down, teeth nibbling at your exposed neck. 

He slows almost to a stop, but the slight shallow thrusts still feel so overwhelmingly good you think you’re gonna go insane. “Y’really think she could live without me? Mmm mm, no, she needs me. I’m the only one who can stuff this greedy little pussy the way she needs to be stuffed. Isn’t that right, baby? Say it f’me.”

“F-fuck! Toki, gonna—” SMACK!

“Not talkin’ to you, princess. Talkin’ to her.” He delivers a pointed thrust into you to emphasize the fact that he’s genuinely talking to your cunt in his pussydrunk state.

Your sure he’s left a permanent handprint because of how hard he spanked your ass. The sting that lingers where his palm landed makes your cunt twitch and ache around him, which he considers to be answer enough. ���S’what I fuckin’ thought. Atta fuckin’ girl, yes baby.” He groans, quickening the pace ever so slightly and beginning to pull you back into him to meet his thrusts.

“Talkin to an ex, y’must have wanted to get yerself fucked stupid, hm? Is that what you wanted? To be fucked like this?” He’s talking, but you can tell it isn’t for actual answers, no, it’s more to himself. He’s fucked out. So close to the edge.

The thrusting quickens, his hot breath fanning over your ear. "Cum f' me, doll," he commands, his voice dropping an octave, "show me how good I make y' feel. Only me. And then I’m gonna breed yer cute cunt so good." With that, he delivers a particularly hard thrust, aiming for that spot inside you that will unravel you completely.

That’s when you finally let loose, the coil inside your tummy snapping and letting you feel so much pleasure that you’re moving your ass back into him with a force that’s unmatched, just swallowing him deep into you over and over again. And that does it for him— his cum spurting inside you and filling you so good.

He kisses you so hungrily you feel you may just lose your breath entirely and pass out. His hands are holding you in place so you don’t fuck back onto him, because he knows if you did, he’d break you.

Toji leans back, smirking at the sight of you, his thumb brushing your swollen lips.

“You done throwing your little tantrum?” you tease, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

He glares at you, though there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re real fuckin’ funny, y’know that?”

“Oh, I know.” And deciding to drop the bombshell now, you lean back against the seat and say casually, “By the way, he’s married. To a man. They have two kids.”

Toji freezes, his expression shifting from smug to incredulous in seconds. He blinks like a cartoon character in shock, his brows furrowing. “What?”

“Yup,” you say, your grin widening. “Your big, scary display of dominance? Totally unnecessary.”

He huffs, running a hand through his hair. The look on his face is so priceless you wish you could brand it into your memory. “Tch. Coulda fuckin’ said somethin’ sooner.”

“And miss all the fun?” You laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Before you can say anything else, he’s on you again, his hands roaming as he mutters, “Gonna make you pay for makin’ me start a scene.”

You laugh, the sound cutting off into a gasp as his hands find their mark. “I made you start a scene? Oh, this I gotta hear.” You say, your voice breathless but still teasing.

“Keep talkin’, doll,” he says, his grin turning wicked. “See where it gets ya.” And then his lips are finding yours again. Just like that, the argument is forgotten, lost in the haze of his possessive, consuming affection.

༒︎ Choso Kamo ༒︎

The mall is crowded, loud with the hum of chattering voices and echoing footsteps. It isn’t your favorite place to hang out, but your best friend had begged you to come along. Somehow, Choso ended up tagging along too, though you weren’t sure why. He wasn’t exactly the mall type, after all— too quiet, too detached from the bustling energy of human spaces like this.

You glance over your shoulder at him now, and there he is, just like you’d expect. He’s trailing a few steps behind, hands shoved into the sleeves of his robe, his dark eyes drifting lazily over the crowd. His usual stoic mask is firmly in place, making him seem untouchable to anyone passing by. But you know better than that. Beneath the unapproachable aura, Choso is awkward— painfully shy even. He’s still figuring out how to interact with humans, still trying to understand what it means to live in a world like this.

And for some reason, he’s decided you’re his safe space.

You smile to yourself, turning your attention back to the task at hand. Your friend had told you they’d meet you at the bookstore, but they’re running late, so you decide to wander into one of the nearby shops to kill time.

Choso doesn’t follow. You assume he’s probably going to find a dark corner to tuck himself into. 

What you don’t realize is that he does follow. At a distance. He’s used to watching from the sidelines, content to let you move through your world without interference. He doesn’t mind, in fact, he learns from watching how you interact with people, animals, media, and the likes. He learns about the world, but more importantly, he learns about you.

His eyes are on you now, but just seconds later, they shift. There’s a new focus, a new target. Him.

The guy behind the counter at the little boutique you walked into. He’s tall, clean-cut, and obnoxiously friendly. At first, Choso thinks nothing of it. It’s not like he can stop every stranger from talking to you. But as the guy’s gestures become more animated, and his laughter gets a little too familiar, something shifts in Choso’s chest.

He wishes he could hear whatever it is he’s saying that has you so giddy. Wishes he could just— wait, what?

The guy leans forward across the counter, his hand brushing yours as he hands you something, maybe a receipt, maybe a bag, Choso doesn’t care. Because what he does next is what hammers the nail in the coffin. His hand moves to the top of your head and he ruffles your hair, making you laugh. It’s the casual intimacy of the gesture that makes his stomach churn. He knows he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. He knows. But he can’t help the way his jaw tightens, or the way his fingers curl into fists in his sleeves.

You’re still smiling at the guy. You’re laughing. And he hates it.

His mind spirals before he can stop it. The scene plays over and over in his head, each time twisting into something worse. What if you like this guy? What if you’re into someone who can flirt with ease, someone who doesn’t stumble over their words or overthink every little thing?

What if you don’t want him?

Choso feels a sharp pang in his chest, like something fragile has cracked. He’s been so careful, so guarded with his feelings. He thought he could keep them tucked away, safe from rejection, safe from ruining this. But now? Now he feels them slipping through the cracks, raw and unmanageable.

He looks away, leaning back against the wall outside the store. His heart’s racing, though he doesn’t know why. It’s not like he has any claim over you. You’re your own person, free to talk to whoever you want. He’s just… He’s just the weird half-curse with no idea what his place is in this world who follows you around and doesn’t know how to say what he feels. But what if he did say it?

The thought hits him like a lightning bolt, sudden and electrifying. He’s scared, sure— terrified, actually, but the idea of staying silent is worse. He doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, not without at least trying.

So he waits.

When you finally walk out of the shop, you’re holding a small bag, a content smile on your face. You spot him instantly, standing off to the side like he’s been there the whole time.

“Hey, sorry that took so long. They had some really cute stuff in there,” you say, holding up the bag as if to explain.

Choso doesn’t respond right away. His eyes flick to the shop behind you, then back to your face. He doesn’t ask about your purchases. Instead, he asks, “Who was that?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Who?”

“The guy you were talking to,” he says, his tone as flat as ever, but there’s something behind it—a tension you can’t quite place.

“Oh, him? That’s just my friend from school. He works here part-time,” you explain, shrugging. “I didn’t even know before now.”

Your words are casual, but they allow Choso a wave of relief. That relief is short-lived, however, replaced almost immediately by a surge of determination. This is his chance. His moment to say what he’s been holding back.

“Can I… talk to you for a second?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You tilt your head, curious but not concerned. “Of course. What’s up?”

He gestures for you to follow him, leading you away from the bigger crowd and toward a seating area deeper in the mall that’s less populated. Once you’re there, he turns to face you, his hands still buried in his sleeves.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He’s searching for the right words, but they don’t come. Instead, what comes out is raw and unfiltered.

“I thought you liked him,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blink, surprised. “What? No, Choso, I told you, he’s just a friend.”

He nods, but his gaze drops to the floor. “I know. It’s just… I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” you ask gently.

He looks up at you then, his dark eyes searching yours. “This. Any of this. Being around people. Trying to figure out how I’m supposed to feel, how I’m supposed to act.”

You wait, sensing there’s more he wants to say.

“But with you… it’s different,” he continues, his voice steady despite the nerves etched into his expression. “I don’t feel lost when I’m with you. I feel… human.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t interrupt.

“And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you,” he says, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “I like you. I… I think I’ve liked you since the moment we met. I just didn’t know how to say it— didn’t know what it was. B-But I do, now.”

You stare at him, his confession hanging in the air between you. For a moment, he thinks he’s made a mistake. That he’s crossed a line he can’t uncross.

But then you smile.

Not just any smile— the kind of smile that makes him feel like the world isn’t so complicated after all.

It’s all you can do because his confession doesn’t catch you off guard, not really.

You’ve always known.

“Cho,” you say softly, stepping closer, “I know. I’ve known for a while.”

His eyes widen slightly, his lips parting in surprise. “You… knew?”

You nod, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. You’re not exactly subtle, you know. But I didn’t say anything because I wanted to give you time. Time to figure out what you wanted, how you felt.”

He’s silent, staring at you like he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or mortified.

“For what it’s worth,” you continue, your voice warm, “I like you, too. Just as you are. You don’t have to change or be anyone else for me, Choso. I like you for you.”

Something in his expression shifts. It’s now a mix of disbelief and something deeper, something more raw. His gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest moment, and when he speaks, his voice is barely audible. “Can I… kiss you?”

The question catches you off guard, not because you don’t want him to, but because of the way he asks it, so tentative and earnest.

“Of course,” you say, your tone gentle but steady.

But he hesitates, his eyes darting to the small crowd around you. His voice drops lower, almost shy. “Not here. Can we… go somewhere else?”

You bite back a smile at how endearing he looks, his cheeks tinted pink as he avoids your gaze. “Come on,” you say, nodding toward a quieter hallway where the restrooms are tucked away.

He follows you like a shadow, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie as he keeps his head down. When you reach the single-occupancy restroom, you push the door open and step inside, holding it for him as he follows. The door clicks shut, and the noise of the mall fades into a distant hum.

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the tension in the small space thick enough to cut with a knife. Choso shifts nervously, his hands twitching at his sides. “I… don’t know how start,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s okay,” you reply, your smile soft and steady. “Just follow my lead.”

You step closer, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. He freezes for a moment, his dark eyes wide and uncertain, but when you lean in, his lids flutter shut.

The kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips warm and soft against yours. But as you deepen it, something shifts. It’s like a switch flips inside him, and suddenly his hands are on your waist, gripping you like you might slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

He grows bolder with each passing second, his fingers wandering over your arms, your back, your hips, your ass. There’s a desperation in the way he touches you, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you all at once. Finally, he pulls you flush against him, his entire arms wrapped around you, one hand gripping your hip and the other on your shoulder.

You can’t help but chuckle against his lips, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. “Easy, Cho,” you murmur, your tone teasing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face flushed as he loosens his grip, but only slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to stop.”

Your smile softens, and you press a light kiss to his cheek. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay to feel nervous.”

You kiss him again, this time letting him lead you. As things heat up, he starts to get carried away again, his hands roaming with a mix of urgency and inexperience. His kisses grow hungrier, his breath ragged as he presses closer, his body practically trembling against yours.

Suddenly his whole body stiffens and a low, unsteady sound akin to a whine escapes him before he pulls back, his face burning with embarrassment. He avoids your gaze, his hands falling away as he stammers, “I— I’m sorry. I dunno what— I didn’t want to stop, I—”

You pull back further to see a dark patch beginning to form even on the purple cloth that rests in front of his robes, realizing what happened. Your perfect Choso just came in his pants from kissing you. You can’t stay silent much longer for fear of making him more embarrassed, so you hush him gently, cupping his face and tilting it so he has no choice but to meet your eyes. “Cho, it’s okay,” you say firmly, your voice steady and soothing. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. This is all new for you, and that’s perfectly fine.”

He swallows hard, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of judgment or disappointment. When he finds none, his shoulders relax just a little.

“You mean that?” he asks softly.

You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “Of course, I do. We’ll take things slow, okay? There’s no rush.”

He nods slowly, the tension in his posture easing as he lets out a shaky breath. After a moment, he looks at you again, his expression soft but serious. “Is this… what love is?” He closes his eyes, his lips curving into the faintest smile as he leans into your touch. And in that quiet, stolen moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in its place.

༒︎ Ryomen Sukuna ༒︎

The room is dimly lit, the sterile scent of disinfectant clinging to the air. You’re lying back on the exam table, your dress pulled up over your growing belly. The monitor hums softly as the sonographer, a man with overly polite eyes and a soothingly gentle touch, adjusts the machine. He explains the process as he goes, his voice calm and warm, clearly trying to put you at ease.

Today is your first 3D ultrasound where you’ll finally get a better view of the life growing inside you. It feels surreal. You’ve had to wait until you’re 32 weeks along to get the best view, so the wait has made you antsy. Will it look like Sukuna? You? Will it smile or suck its thumb? Surely it’s too early for that, right? All of these questions are running through your mind and making your body vibrate with both nervousness and anticipation. It actually does help that the sonographer noticed and is trying to soothe you. 

You glance to the corner where Sukuna stands, his towering figure leaned protectively against the wall. His crimson eyes are locked on the sonographer, sharp and unyielding, like a predator stalking prey. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, claws tapping rhythmically on his forearm, a faint sound that portrays his growing irritation. The air feels heavy with tension; thick enough to cut with a knife. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t contribute to your current nervousness.

The sonographer prepares to squirt gel onto your belly, offering you a soft smile. “This might feel a little cold,” he says, his tone careful. “But it’ll help us get a clear image of the baby.”

You flinch slightly at the cold, and the response is immediate.

“Watch your hands.” Sukuna’s voice slices through the room, low and menacing.

The sonographer freezes, visibly startled. His gaze darts nervously to Sukuna. “I- I’m just preparing her to perform the scan, sir. There’s no need to worry.”

Sukuna scoffs, the sound dark and mocking. “Worry? I’m not worried, human. I’m warning you.” His crimson eyes narrow, radiating danger. “You’re touching my wife who’s carrying the heir to my throne. Be mindful.”

You press your palm to your forehead, exhaling sharply. “Ryo,” you say, your tone firm. “He’s doing his job. Stop scaring him.”

Sukuna’s eyes flick to you, softening slightly, but the fire in them doesn’t fully die. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

The sonographer hesitates, visibly uneasy, before resuming his work. The wand glides gently over your belly, and the monitor flickers to life. He points out the baby’s heartbeat, their tiny limbs, and the way they seem to kick at nothing in particular. His voice is soothing as he explains, almost too soothing for Sukuna’s liking.

You can see that the baby has four limbs, thankfully, and it’s got a frown on it’s face, much like its father’s. Until you speak, that is. When you speak, you can see the soft smile that graces your sweet baby’s face, again much like its father’s. You feel tears prick at your eyes finally seeing your baby so clearly.

The sonographer glances at you again, his smile almost reverent. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your baby looks perfect— beautiful, actually.”

That does it.

“Beautiful, huh?” Sukuna mutters, his voice laced with venom. “Bet you say that to every woman you see. Must be part of your script. You’re just so reassuring. Well, my wife doesn’t need that. She has me. Do you think yourself better than I?”

“Ryomen.” Your voice sharpens, and you shoot him a glare that tells him you’re angry. “Enough.”

He stares at you for a long moment, his lips curling in mild defiance, but he backs off for now. The sonographer continues, though his hands move a little faster this time, clearly eager to finish. Sukuna’s eyes remain locked on him, every small movement scrutinized like a hawk circling its prey.

Finally, the scan concludes. The sonographer hands you a towel to clean off the gel, offering another polite smile. He opens his mouth to speak, but Sukuna doesn’t give him the chance.

“You’re done, right? Get out.”

The man’s eyes widen; he looks to you as if hoping for an intervention. You manage a tight smile. “Thank you for your help. Forgive my unpleasant husband,” you say pointedly, dismissing him with a polite nod.

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone. Sukuna stands there, still bristling, his claws twitching at his sides.

You sigh, wiping the last of the gel from your belly. “You’re ridiculous, Kuna. He wasn’t touching me in any sort of suspicious way.”

“He shouldn’t have been touching you in the first place,” Sukuna snaps, taking a step closer.

“He’s a medical professional, Ryomen. It’s his job.”

“I don’t care,” he growls, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “He was too close; too soft. Like he thought he could make you feel safer than I do.”

You sit up, tugging your dress down over your belly. “No one is trying to take your place.”

He scoffs, pacing in front of you like a restless beast. “You’re mine. No one else gets to put their hands on you like that.”

You stand, squaring your shoulders as you step into his path. “Would you rather our child go unchecked and we miss something bad? You can’t scare every single person who helps me, Ryomen.”

His eyes narrow, the frustration in them simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re too soft,” he mutters. “Always making excuses for people who don’t deserve it.”

“Soft doesn’t mean weak,” you counter, standing firm. “And I don’t need you turning every little thing into a fight. Trust me, Ryomen. I’m not going anywhere. But… you’re wrong, you know. I do need comfort. You provide safety, yes, but never reassurance. Gentleness. Maybe just… passive acceptance. I’m carrying your child. Of course I’d like to be doted on and treated with care.”

Before he can get upset again, you add, “By you. Only you. So just— please stop it with the anger and hostility. I want my child to know their father is capable of love the way I know he is.”

The tension in his shoulders loosens slightly, though the possessiveness in his gaze remains. He steps closer, towering over you, his hand coming to rest on your belly. His touch is firm but deliberate, a reminder of who you belong to.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “You. The baby. You’re my dearest prizes. No one else gets to act like they know how to care for you better than I do. I study everything, every minute detail about you and what’s to expect with the child. I suppose I’ve been so wound up with preparing myself and protecting you that I’ve gotten more hostile than usual. I… can work on it.”

You place your hand over his, meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“Get back on the exam bed.”

“What? Why? He’s finish—” he interrupts you by walking you backwards until your ass hits the edge, caging you in.

“Because I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you look carrying my heir and standing up to even me. And I’d like to show you just how much I love it.” He says, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against your neck, just below your jawline. As expected, you tilt your head up for a kiss and he indulges you, kissing you so hungrily and lifting you onto the bed.

His hands wander all over your body, his touch carrying a gentleness you’re not used to. Goosebumps raise on the whole of your body in response and you’re leaning forward into the kiss, losing yourself in it. You don’t even realize he’s hiked your dress up and removed your panties until the cold hits your slick-sheened pussy.

“Ryō—”

“I know, brat, I know.” He says, a teasing lilt in his voice as he parts from your lips to kiss along your jaw. “Come to the edge f’me.”

You do exactly that as he undoes his robes to reveal his second set of arms… and his second mouth. God, you love how freaky this man is. His second set of arms grip the globes of your ass to hold you steady as he pulls you flush against his lower mouth, his fat tongue just smearing your cunt with your slick and his saliva. 

You’ve never cared to admit that this mouth of his has always been your favorite. It’s so big that it offers more coverage, more pressure, and gets so much dee—

“Biiiiig stretch.” Sukuna warns you before he plunges his second tongue into your hole, lingering at that first ring of resistance to deliver a few shallow, but mind numbingly pleasurable thrusts before he pushes the rest of the way in; as much as he can, that is.

He uses the moment your pretty little mouth releases an ah! to kiss you again, his first set of hands slipping up your dress to find your tits. If there’s anything he’d put on top of the list of things he loves about your changing body, it’s this. How fucking thick your ass has become and undeniably huge your tits have grown. Just swelling and preparing to fill with milk to sustain his heir.

He pinches your sensitive nipples between his large fingers, making you moan into the kiss, relaxing your cunt around his tongue between you. Suddenly, you’re lifted just slightly above the table, his other hands beginning to fuck you on his tongue, his saliva and your slick just drip, drip, dripping onto the bed and floor beneath you.

“So greedy. Pussy’s always so fucking greedy…” he groans, resting his forehead against yours so you both can watch as your pussy bulges from swallowing his tongue so eagerly. It’s such a lewd sight, one you’ve undeniably grown addicted to in your time together.

Your moans mingle together and it’s then you realize that he’s now using just one of his hands to fuck you on his tongue. His other is wrapped around both of his cocks and pumping them together, ribbons of pre falling down his lengths and being smeared by his movements. You’re not even slightly ashamed of the way you salivate seeing him getting off while eating your pussy and watching himself do it. It’s so fucking filthy that you can’t help but—

“Gonna cum f’me, aren’t you? Mmmmmhm, can tell by how she’s flutterin’ around my tongue. My needy fucking wife.” He smirks, pulling you flush to him so that the widest part of his tongue rubs against your clit while he switches it up and fucks his tongue into you, faster this time.

“O-Ohmyfuckinggod!” The words come out strung together, the added attention on your clit making you see stars, your breath quickening, heart beginning to race. You lean back onto the bed using your hands to prop you up so you can get a better view.

“So nasty, beautiful.” A chuckle falls from his lips and you can’t even respond before his upper hands are just engulfing your tits and kneading, easing the pain of the swelling and pleasing you at the same time.

Then, something happens. Milk begins to drip from your right nipple and it has you both stopping in your tracks. You’d heard of the low possibility that milk can come before you give birth, but you never considered it’d happen to you. A blush of embarrassment creeps on your face and you’re about to apologize when you hear Sukuna groan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth immediately latches onto your tit and he just sucks.

“S-Sukuna, fuck!” You whine, his lower tongue beginning to work your quivering pussy again, bringing you right to the edge of pleasure.

He releases your tit with a pop! and nips it gently. “Mine. Mine, mine, all fuckin’ mine, such a good Queen providing for my heir early. Gonna be such a good momma.” He praises you before beginning to suck the lactating nipple again, making you come undone on his tongue, your gooey insides clenching around his tongue, trying to stop him with how tight you are, but he’s too strong, fucking his tongue into you through your orgasm to swallow up every last bit of cum you have to offer him.

It’s not until you’re whining and your legs are limp, weak pushes against his shoulders making him release your tit and slip his tongue from your slobbering hole. He runs the tip of his tongue against your oversensitive clit just a few times before you feel him kiss your puffy folds, making your body lurch.

You watch breathlessly as he tries to suck up the milk from your poor abused nipple again, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging his face up to yours. “Y’know, you’re mine too. Forever. Don’t you forget that.” You smirk.

Something flickers in his eyes— pride, possessiveness, and a touch of vulnerability he’d never admit to. “Damn right I’m yours,” he says, his lips curling into a smirk. “But don’t think that means I’m gonna get soft on people.”

You lean into his hand as he caresses your cheek, a small smile playing at your lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” he says, leaning down until his face is inches from yours. His voice drops to a rumble. “Carrying my child. Still standing by me. So brave.”

“Someone has to keep you in check,” you tease, though your voice softens with affection.

He lets out a low chuckle, pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, well, let’s see if you’re brave enough to take my cocks after cumming like such a good brat f’me.” 

Your eyes widen, feeble hands trying to push him away by his chest, “Kuna! We have to leave, they’re probably traumatized!” You tell him in a hushed tone, suddenly all too aware that you’re in a doctor’s office for fuck’s sake.

“Yeah, well. They can afford the therapy.” He gives you a shit eating grin while thumbing open your cunt. “Open up real wide f’me, baby.”

And as you brace yourself, you remind yourself to make apology rounds to the staff whenever your husband is through with you.

༒︎ Nanami Kento ༒︎

Nanami Kento is tired. Not just the kind of tired you feel after a long day, though God knows his body aches from another grueling shift of paperwork and exorcisms. No, it’s deeper than that. A bone-deep fatigue that comes from too many hours spent away from the one person he’d rather be with. You.

He steps through the door, loosening his tie with one hand and holding his briefcase in the other. The house is warm and smells faintly like the lavender candle you always light in the evenings. It feels like home, but he quickly notices something’s off.

Your voice carries down the hall, light and warm, tinged with laughter. It’s a sound that usually has his shoulders relaxing, but tonight, there’s an edge of tension beneath it that prickles at him. He sets his things down quietly, toeing off his shoes, and listens.

“Yeah, it’s been kind of lonely lately,” you say, and he freezes in place, his hand hovering above the coat rack. “I mean, I get it. Nanamin works so hard and I love him for it, but… I don’t know. I just miss him. I feel like I barely see him anymore.”

His chest tightens. You’re talking about him. He takes a slow, measured breath and steps closer, rounding the corner silently.

“Thank you for keeping me sane, though. Honestly, if I didn’t have someone to talk to, I’d probably be climbing the walls by now.” There’s a soft laugh on the other end of the line. Gojo’s laugh. The realization is instant and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Gojo. Of course, it’s Gojo. His coworker, the occasional thorn in the side, the most insufferable man he knows. And apparently the one you’ve been leaning on while he’s been too busy drowning in work.

Kento feels his jaw tighten, his nails digging into the palm of his hand. He knows— logically, rationally— that there’s nothing going on between you and Gojo. You’d never betray him like that and Gojo, for all his teasing, would never cross that line. But the knot of jealousy twisting in his chest doesn’t care about logic.

You must have heard him shift uncomfortably because you glance over your shoulder, startled. Your expression softens when you see him and you give him a small, almost sheepish smile. “Hey, Kento just got home,” you say into the phone. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

Nanami doesn’t miss the way Gojo’s laugh sounds out one last time before you hang up. He doesn’t say anything as you set your phone on the counter, but his silence is heavy. You know him well enough to recognize it immediately.

“Ken,” you say softly, stepping toward him. “Long day?”

He hums in acknowledgment, his gaze steady on you. It’s not cold, but there’s something simmering behind it; something that makes you hesitate. “Gojo?” he asks finally, his voice calm but with an edge you can’t ignore.

You blink, caught off guard by his demeanor. “Yeah. He was just checking in. He knows I’ve been home alone a lot lately.”

“Does he?” His tone is even, but the sharpness is undeniable.

You frown, crossing your arms. “Nanami, it’s not like that. He’s a friend. Our friend. You know that.”

“I do.” And he does. He knows it’s innocent. But that doesn’t make it easier to hear you laughing and confiding in someone else while he’s been too busy to do the same.

“Ken.” Your voice softens and you reach for him, your hand brushing his arm. “Please don’t do this. Don’t beat yourself up or think anything crazy. I’m not mad at you for working so much. I know why you do it. I know it’s for us. But… it’s hard sometimes. That’s all I meant.”

“I hate that you feel like this,” he says quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That you have to go to someone else when I should be here.”

You step closer, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. “You’re here now,” you murmur, trying to pull him out of his head. “That’s what matters. That you always come back to me as soon as you can.”

He looks at you, something dark and conflicted in his eyes. “Is it enough?” he asks, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Am I enough? Or would you rather have a husband who has more time for you?”

Your heart breaks at the vulnerability in his voice. “Kenny,” you say firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Always.”

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly and his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s hungry. Desperate. As if he’s trying to make up for all the time he’s spent away from you in one moment.

You gasp against his mouth and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to the globes of your ass and gripping tightly. When he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll change for you,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “No more late nights. No more overtime. I’ll cut my hours. Whatever it takes to be here with you.”

“Ken, you don’t have to—”

“I do.” His hands slide under your shirt, his touch firm but gentle as he lifts it over your head and lets it fall to the floor. “I won’t let you feel like you’re second to anything. Ever again. You’re too precious to me. My world. My heart. My wife.”

His lips find your neck, trailing heated kisses down to your collarbone. He moves with a purpose, his hands exploring your skin as if to reacquaint himself with every inch of you. It’s more than physical— it’s a promise.

You tug at his tie, fumbling with the knot until he helps you pull it free and rips off his button-down. Then his hands are on you again, guiding you toward the bedroom.

“Lay back for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding but with an undercurrent of tenderness that makes your pulse race.

You obey, sinking onto the bed as he leans over you, his lips finding yours again. His touch is both reverent and possessive, his movements careful but insistent. Every kiss, every caress feels like an apology and a vow wrapped into one.

He wraps a hang around your throat, squeezing for one fleeting moment before trailing it down your chest, between your breasts, down your stomach, over your pubic bone, and finally under your nightgown to meet your slick riddled cunt.

“Shit,” he hisses, forehead resting against yours while he catches his breath, his fingers slipping back and forth between your folds, teasing at your clit in passes. “My love… I don’t want to waste any time, I just need t’feel you. Normally I’d ea—”

“I know, handsome, s’okay, I’m ready, I can take it.” You reassure him, knowing he was going to apologize for not properly warming you up.

You see, Nanami has always been one for foreplay. He could slurp up your saccharine slick for hours upon hours if you let him, but tonight? Tonight, he just wants to be one with you.

His hand finds one of yours and he intertwines your fingers, his other hand working to free his cock from the suffocating confines of his pants. When it springs free, it’s just throbbing an angry pink, beads of pre forming at the tip now that his dress pants aren't there to absorb them.

He aligns himself with your painfully empty hole, pushing past that first little ring of resistance with a long groan. The grip he has on your hand tightens, his knuckles turning white as he feeds you inch after mind numbing inch of his cock until his tip’s kissing your cervix. But you know his body well enough to know that isn’t it. And so you brace yourself for him to push in to the hilt, his mushroom tip ever so slightly bullying open your cervix as he does so, making you yelp out in both pleasure and pain.

His lips swallow your whines and whimpers, he’s determined to take everything you have to offer and give you more than what he has. The world, if you asked. His free hand finds purchase on your hip and he holds you steady as he starts to roll his hips into yours, passionately. Roughly. Like he’s trying to stuff you full of all of the love he has for you.

You moan out, reaching your own free hand up to cup his cheek, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his back, effectively telling him you need more. With every thrust after, you can’t help but gasp. You feel him in your lungs stealing every bit of breath you have, reddened leaking tip repeatedly hitting that bullseye that makes your mind go stupid.

“K-Ken, feels s’good! Hah!” You whine out, back arching up and pressing you flush to him. He moves his hand from your hip to wrap his arm around you, effectively holding your bottom half in the air to get deeper inside of you.

“Mine. My wife. My wife, my love, my beautiful, m-my heart.” He’s babbling, burying his head into your neck and pressing hot, wet, open mouthed kisses to it. You feel him slip his hand from yours and instead, he has the top of your head in the palm of his hand, using it to keep you still, but also to anchor himself so he doesn’t let you slip through his fingers.

“You’re going to be such a beautiful mom. Wh—hah, what kind of husband have I been by not trying to give you my babies? We can start now. After I cum riiiiight here.” He babbles, his other hand moving for only a second to press down where your stomach bulges with his thrusts.

And the look in his eyes tells you this is a promise, not just something he’s saying while fucking you. Just like the perfect little thing you are, you cum for him right then, dragging a long and frustrated groan from him.

“Pussy’s always so good for me. Milking me so good, my love…” he shudders as you cum on his throbbing length.

“Ken, f—fuh— fuck! Cum in me! Please, baby, cum in me!” You beg, making him chuckle.

“Oh? You think I’m done? No, I have to make up for lost time. Evert second I missed, I’ll make up for with an equal amount of time spent buried in this beautiful cunt of yours. Understood?”

And oh are you so incredibly fucked.

[sturniolosblanket]

texts w/ brothers bsf!matt + drabble

pt. 6

your blood was boiling. your weren’t exactly expecting to be greeted with matt making out with someone else the moment you walk into the party. it was like something in you snapped. you felt used, betrayed, pissed. you knew you and matt could never become something, but your feelings for him were so strong that it swallowed the fact that he’s your brothers best friend. it took you a long time to realize your feelings for matt, but when you came to the realization that you might be in love with him. it scared you more than the man himself.

you searched for matt’s car and himself in the huge line of cars covering the sidewalk. you finally end up spotting matt leaning against the passenger side door looking directly at you.

“what do you want?” you ask rolling your eyes trying to avoid eye contact.

“please don’t give me attitude baby.” he said frowning and tilting his head

“are you gonna cry about it??” you take a step back from him

“no,” he paused “maybe.” he said smiling at you

“are you gonna keep joking around or talk?” you said crossing your arms

“y/n, im so sorry you had to see me with that girl, i promise i don’t want her, she threw herself at me and i stupidly didn’t stop her.” Matt said taking a step toward you.

“good for you?”

“y/n it feels so wrong touching other girls, your literally the only person i want to touch”

“okay.” you responded flatly shrugging

“your a pain in the ass you know that?” he said shaking his head

“your not exactly the delight either, matt.” the silence after you said that was thick. both of you clearly frustrated, but your mind goes back to your messages.

“how do you feel?” you asked straight up

“what?”

“you said i can’t see how you obviously feel. so, how do you feel?” you repeat your question

matt sighs shaking his head moving back to lean against his car. “your my best friends little sister.” he spoke

“so i noticed.”

“Nathan would kill me if he knew I was fucking you, and yet I don’t stop. Why?”

“because your a horny fuck?” you replied chuckling to yourself

“Everyday for the past 4 months I risk losing my best friend to see his little sister.”

“matt stop fucking narrating your daily actions just answer the fucking question god damn.”

“I am obviously in love with you, y/n” he said looking dead in your eyes.

your stomach completely flipped. shocked, happy, excited, nervous. various emotions flowing through your body, searching for a response, but when you couldn’t find words. you and matt stare at each other in silence both still soaking up the words and meaning of his confession. you feel so relieved, relieved he feels the same, relieved you don’t have to hide your feelings from him or yourself anymore.

when you don’t respond to him right away he goes into a state of panic, thinking he needed to explain himself further, and words just start spilling out.

“princess, when i slept with someone else, it was to try and stop my feelings for you because the truth is, i’ve never ever felt this way for anyone else before, ever, and it’s scary as fuck. your the only person i think about, look for, want to talk to, and im just so scared of getting hurt that i hurt you in the process, and im so sorry for that. ill literally do anything or block anyone to gain your trust back.”

your face turns red at his confessions, and you feel your cheeks turning a shade of pink. you feel a rush of happiness flow through you as you jump up into his arms, and all matt can do is sigh in relief and hug you back. you hug him as tightly as you can. you never knew a hug could be so emotion filled, but somehow, it confesses a lot more than your words could.

“i love you too, matt” you said into his chest. “but, nate..” you said looking up at him.

“i know, princess” he said looking down at you “we can always just be together, and just not tell him.” matt said smirking

“that feels so wrong” you said putting your forehead against his chest

“i know, but not being around you feels worse.” matt said, his fingers snaking up into your hair

“can’t we just keep sneaking around and having sex, but not put a label on it?”

“of course we can, but would we eventually end up being together?” he asked

“yes.” you said stepping onto your tippy toes to give him a quick peck, “ of course.” you smiled up at him, “once you prove yourself trustworthy again.”

“yes ma’am.” matt said, his other hand snaking around your waist to pulling you into another kiss.

“i know it’s going to take a lot for you to trust me again, but i promise i’ll make it up to you.” he said after pulling away, looking into your eyes. you can tell he’s being genuine, that he’s not lying. so all you can do is smile at him and pull him into another kiss.

“i told you.” you said pulling away and looking at him with a big smile on your face

“told me what?” he said furrowing his eyebrows

“you went soft on me.” you said grin widening. a smile slowly forms on his face, he shakes his head slightly in disbelief as he presses his lips to yours.

a/n: SURPRISE!! i finished my work and felt a little devious. also yall, this ain’t the end, i want them to get caught by nate at some point so stay tuned reinassss!! comment ‘❄️’ to be added to taglist!🩵

taglist: @matteatmeout @littlefreak-liz @mattsplaything @kayla-hearts4sturniolo @isasflorals @harls-sturn @h3arts4harry @rcklessheavn @chrissysturnzz @rafesapprentice @mattysketchup @imobsessedwithtaylorswift @emely9274 @trvqvoiisee @heartsforsturniolo567 @rafecameronsbitch @annsx03 @slutmattout @trevorsturniolo @h3arts4nat @beersangel @sturniolosluttt @sturnzpro @slutmattout @rainebow333 @bigcoke69420 @nmegamett20 @ivysturnss @quirklessliap @rain-likes-purple @shadowthesim @julisturn @chrissturniolossidebitch @slut4chris888 @edwardscoldhands @freshsturniolo346 @nervoussagittarius @sturniolosfr3shl0v3 @ilovechrissturniolooooo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @secret-sturniolo @viktorssugardaddy @ikyoudreamofme @not-sinai @alyssa-sturn @ribread03 @bellassturniolo @bambisribbon @mrs-riddlexo

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

[n1daehodefender]

hii 💕 I love your writings. can I please request a fic or headcanons about going on an amusement park date with daeho (or anyone else you write for)? thank youu

Going to the amusement park headcanons!!

Pairing: Kang dae ho, Nam gyu, thanos (su-bong) separately

Warnings: none i think?

A/N: im sorry i havent posted in a couple days i havent been feeling my best:) but reqs are open

Kang Dae-ho

Dae-ho is over-the-moon excited when you suggest going to the amusement park. He immediately starts planning, looking up the best rides, the tastiest food stalls, and even figuring out the least crowded times to make sure the experience is perfect.

He insists on matching outfits, joking about wearing something ridiculous like cartoon-themed shirts or silly hats, but if you agree, he’s all in.

The morning of the trip, he wakes you up early, practically bouncing around like an overexcited puppy. He’s already packed essentials: sunscreen, water bottles, snacks, and even a small first-aid kit (his sisters made him overly prepared for everything).

Dae-ho’s excitement is contagious. He practically drags you from ride to ride, beaming like a kid on Christmas morning.

He’s obsessed with roller coasters and tries to convince you to ride the scariest ones with him. If you’re hesitant or scared, he’s incredibly understanding and doesn’t push. Instead, he’ll hold your hand, joke around to distract you, and promise to buy you as many snacks as you want afterward.

He’s a pro at carnival games. He wins a giant stuffed animal for you after spending way too much time and money on it. He’s ridiculously proud of himself and insists on carrying it around all day, even when it’s clearly inconvenient.

Between rides, he loves taking quiet breaks, sitting on benches while sharing cotton candy or churros. He insists on feeding you a piece, and his bright smile when you finally let him is priceless.

He’s incredibly affectionate, holding your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, or pulling you into spontaneous hugs. If you’re shy about PDA, he tries to tone it down but can’t help sneaking in little touches.

At sunset, he pulls you onto the Ferris wheel, claiming it’s the perfect way to end the day. As the ride reaches the top, he gets uncharacteristically quiet, gazing out at the view before turning to you with a soft, almost shy smile. “This is the best day ever… because I got to spend it with you.”

If anyone bumps into you or tries to cut in line, he immediately steps in, his normally sweet demeanor replaced with a firm, protective tone. He doesn’t get aggressive, but his presence alone is enough to make people back off.

He’s hyper-aware of your comfort, constantly checking if you’re okay, if you’re tired, or if you need anything.

Nam Gyu

Nam Gyu isn’t exactly thrilled when you suggest the amusement park. He claims it’s “too crowded and noisy,” but deep down, he’s touched that you want to spend the day with him. He tries to act nonchalant, but you catch the small smile he hides when you talk about your plans.

He’s not a morning person, so he grumbles the entire way there, sipping on his coffee and complaining about how early it is. But the moment he sees your excitement, he softens and starts making sarcastic comments to make you laugh.

Nam Gyu is surprisingly fun to go with because of his dry humor. He makes sarcastic remarks about the overly enthusiastic park staff, the overpriced snacks, and the long lines, but it’s all in good fun.

He’s not a fan of extreme rides, but he’ll go on them if you want to. He tries to act unfazed, but you catch him holding on for dear life during a particularly intense roller coaster. When you tease him afterward, he just smirks and says, “I was worried you’d be scared.”

His favorite part is the haunted house. He claims he’s not scared, but you catch him flinching at the jump scares. He tries to cover it up by teasing you, saying, “You screamed louder than me,” even if it’s not true.

Despite his gruff exterior, Nam Gyu has a soft side that shows in subtle ways. He buys you a souvenir without you asking and pretends it’s no big deal, even though he clearly put thought into it.

He’s not openly affectionate in public, but he’ll hold your hand or casually drape his arm around you, acting like it’s no big deal. If you’re nervous about a ride or a crowd, he gently squeezes your hand to reassure you.

By the end of the day, he’s surprisingly relaxed and even admits he had fun (though he’ll never outright say it was because of you). As you leave the park, he mutters, “Maybe we can do this again… sometime.” It’s his way of saying he had a great time without losing his cool persona.

Thanos (Su-bong)

Su-bong is so excited about going to the amusement park with you. He insists on making it a surprise date and goes all out, even printing out the park map and planning an itinerary.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, running from ride to ride with boundless energy. You can barely keep up with him, but his laughter and enthusiasm are so infectious that you don’t mind.

He’s fearless when it comes to rides, always choosing the biggest, fastest, and scariest ones. He cheers loudly during roller coasters and even throws his hands up, encouraging you to do the same.

On gentler rides, like the merry-go-round, he pretends to be bored but secretly loves the cheesy charm of it. He jokes about riding the biggest horse and asks you to take pictures of him posing dramatically.

Su-bong is super competitive at carnival games. He spends way too much money trying to win a stuffed animal for you, refusing to give up until he succeeds. When he finally wins, he acts smug and says, “Told you I’d get it for you.”

He also challenges you to silly games, like who can eat the most cotton candy or who screams the loudest on a ride. His laughter is constant, and his playful attitude makes the day unforgettable.

Despite all the chaos, Su-bong has a surprisingly romantic side. He insists on taking cute selfies together, making silly faces and then snapping one where you’re both smiling genuinely.

He surprises you by buying matching accessories, like hats or bracelets, and proudly wears his, claiming it’s a “symbol of our teamwork.”

At the end of the day, he takes you to a quiet spot to watch the fireworks. For once, he’s uncharacteristically quiet, wrapping his arms around you and whispering, “Thanks for making today so amazing. You’re the best part of any adventure.”

[tricoloreddango]

I'm really nasty 😞 can I request more Mydei smut, maybe detailing how vocal he is and how he talks the reader through it. 😭 God forgive me.

You and I think alike, anon. Hopefully this fulfills your request. I was writing this on a train ride, but thankfully my space around was empty 😅

Cw: fem reader, marriage, Mydei bends you in half, sex on his throne, oral fem receiving, praise, size kink, possessiveness, semi public, Mydei talks you through it and can’t shut up. Not suitable for minors!

There was an odd, wild idea about Mydei today, even more than usual, when he was suddenly putting you down on his throne, just moments after you were calmly resting on his lap, your tunic lifted up by your clearly eager husband. Whether it was something that frustrated him today that had Mydei coming to you, something about you filling his head too much today, you couldn’t really complain, even if you felt swallowed by him.

You thought that you were about to be snapped in half, with how much Mydei was forcing your thighs close to your head, folding you in half. Kneeling in front of you seated like this on his crystal throne, he was eating everything between your thighs, growling rather aggressively at your taste. “You’re always so wet for me… I bet you can’t stop thinking about me doing this to you, huh?” he said against your sweet pussy, slurping with his tongue, and latching onto your clit with his lips.

“You can’t keep quiet at all, even when I told you to. It’s as if you want us to get caught,” he said roughly. He’d never let anyone see you like this, maybe slaughter someone who did, when this holy sight was reserved just for him; nor did he want entire place to know, but you were too brain-dead on the pleasure he was giving you, to even think of the consequences of letting others hear. You, instead, were busy with moaning for him and pulling on his orange hair, unable to stay still. It was just his hands on your thighs keeping you from squirming away, supported by his strong arms.

“Mydei, please!” And he couldn’t even try to shut you up, if it meant denying himself of hearing your wanton voice. He groaned with his tongue inside of you, feeling his dick throb at your needy whines. “You taste so good, love… you’re making me crazy like this. So, so weak,” his voice was muffled against your skin, the vibrations making you even more sensitive.

No matter how much you trashed, he brought you to your first pleasure, lapping at every juice you gave him. “Damn it…” he cursed when he looked up at your expression, seeing it twisted and so ruined by him, with tears and daze in your eyes, your lips parted and crying out of him. You were so beautiful like this, and he couldn’t stop obsessing about making you like this everyday. Maybe he should, seeing what a desperate of a wife he made… if you didn’t make him even worse.

He was quickly standing up, letting your legs rest down for a moment, not even bothering to take his pants off and choosing to yank them down. Thankfully, his armor part was abandoned earlier, when he returned.

You felt heat in your abdomen grow, knowing he was going to give you something even much better, to fill you up and shut up your whines for more, or rather, make you do so even harder. He’d take care of you, as always, cause while your husband could be merciless with his enemies, with you, his wife, he felt dutiful and giving. “Please, Mydei, I need you so badly…” you said eagerly. “Fill me up.”

“You really can’t wait… No, you never can…” he mused, his low voice, not any better at hiding his desperation. “Don’t worry, I can never really deny you, no matter how much how I like hearing your begs…” he said roughly. Mydei was well aware, that his mind have been always catching up to the memories of your moans and begs from your nights, just when he’s trying to focus on something else. “My wife won’t walk around starving.”

Mydei was kneeling in front of his throne again, this time lowering your body by your legs to lay your back on the bottom of the seat, and having your head rest against the back, your neck and spine curved to accommodate the position. Your legs dangling down the throne, Mydei threw over his shoulders. You were trembling with anticipation, whimpering impatiently, when he grabbed his cock to spread his wetness with his tip stirring against your wet hole’s entrance.

“Hush, you insatiable woman…” he teased, only to grunt hard when he finally pushing himself inside of you. You were so eager for him, that stretching you even with his thick girth was easy today—you just couldn’t stop enjoying seeing your husband so eager, unable to stop himself from pouncing on you. Mydei had to grab onto your thighs again, feeling suffocated by your heart and tightness. “There we go, so full of your husband… so beautiful for me,” he groaned, and was not wasting any time to start roughly thrusting into you, not leaving any space inside of your walls empty. Mydei was even more motivated, when you were falling into moaning for him quickly, and way too loudly for your surroundings again. No one would dare to walk in without knocking, but hearing…

“So good…” you whined out. “I can’t… you’ll break me,” you cried out, your eyes rolling back.

Something twisted shone in his orange eyes at your words, making him thrust even faster and deeper. “No, I won’t break you… but I’ll make sure it’s just me on your pretty mind,” Mydei exclaimed with a sense of ownership, liking the idea of your mind being dumbed with thoughts of your husband, and no other man. Devoted just the same way he was devoting himself to you. “I really wished a way you could see yourself like this, how beautiful you are… maybe next time, I’ll take you in front of the mirror,” he said, awfully content at the idea. Your pussy was too, when you suddenly squeezed on him, and Mydei latched onto your calves roughly to pull you even closer to his hips. “Yeah? You’d want that?”

The throne was shaking at this point.

With your legs still over his shoulders, Mydei forced them around his hips for even better angle, and leaned forward to kiss you hungrily, along to rub your clit, to help you reach your peak. He tasted your tongue, smacked your lips and devoured them with his, humming when you moaned right against his mouth, making his digit circle faster and his hips to be meaner. Each harsh thrust, was making your pussy gather a pressure, that was growing and soon would snap and release in another wave of intense pleasure.

Mydei withdrew from your lips, looking below at where his fat cock was pushing himself inside of you, disappearing, and leaving no space unstreched, forcing your lips to part for him. “What’s wrong, my love? Too big for you? No… I know you love me splitting you like this,” Mydei admitted the truth for you, one you knew to the core. Nothing would ever make you feel fulfilled like he does, ever again. Taking him wasn’t easy, but Mydei always made sure to make you ready for him, with the end result always so worth the long wait. “Yes… love it so much… so big,” you blabbered, and you were making him so proud like this—thinking only about your Mydei, your husband, just like he wanted it to be.

“Do you feel how deep inside I am?” he asked in appreciation, before placing his other hand on your tummy to press. You trashed under his palm, feeling him even more right there, protesting as you felt so overwhelmed yet so good. “I’m sure you do. You take me so well, I cannot stop spoiling you like this…” he praised, before falling back into sequence of groans and grunts, when as in result of his previous actions, your legs brought him closer around his hips, forcing him even deeper into you.

Just the way he had to busy his face into your neck next, you knew he was getting close too, ready to fill you up with his load, making you even more swollen of him. Mydei just couldn’t control himself with you, that he had to rest himself here, almost embarrassed of letting you see him so much differently than an everyday warrior. You let him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, as he pounded into you and vocalized against your ear, digging your nails into his skin and leaving him even more crazy on you. His balls slapped against you, adding to the animality of the scene.

“Mydei, I’m so close, please, fill me up…” you said desperately, scratching him slightly and making his hips momentarily falter, before mad again. “I will, my pretty. You’ll take it all, won’t you? You’ll come for your dear husband, and let him fill you up like he should,” he inquired, looking up at your face again. You nodded furiously, making him smile in pride, before he sped up for the last time and spent up himself inside of your walls, making you feel even fuller and warmer. He gripped onto your sides furiously, spilling curses and rough grumbles, feeling as if you were trying to kill him, when your pussy was twitching madly from your orgasm. The high pitched strangled moan you let out, was echoing across the empty room.

Mydei kept his hips pressed tightly against yours, having you filled entirely, as he wasn’t ready to let anything spill yet. He rested over your body, its heaviness crashing you comforting, letting you both catch your breaths. He wouldn’t think a battle is more breathtaking than doing this with you.

Soon, with much more gentleness than before, Mydei was lifting you up into his arms, leaning towards your face to press a kiss against your forehead, before he was carrying you to let you both take a nice bath.

[woozinhos]

Hiiiiii okay so reader has a crush on mingyu and mingyu doesn’t care for her and wonwoo gets tired of her ass so he fucks her on mingyus bed ( ROUGHH) till all she can do is cry and scream ( he fucks her dumb basically)

Even on his bed I’m still better

Notes: stop why are all my fics so long today and why are they all hitting so good!

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Juicy smut below the cut

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The atmosphere was lively and loud as you stood chatting with Mingyu at the party. He was his usual charming self, laughing and joking with you, but you couldn't help feeling a flutter of nerves every time he smiled at you. You had been nursing a crush on him for months, and every time you saw him, your heart would race. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was something between you two, even if he didn't seem to notice.

Wonwoo stood off to the side, watching the two of you with a growing sense of frustration. He had been trying to get your attention all night, but it seemed like you were too caught up in your conversation with Mingyu to notice him. Mingyu was polite and friendly, but you couldn't help but notice that he didn't seem to reciprocate your feelings. He laughed at your jokes and smiled at your attempts to flirt, but there was always a hint of detachment in his expression. You tried not to let it get to you, but deep down, it stung. You couldn't understand why he wasn't interested in you when you were so obviously smitten with him.

As the conversation with Mingyu continued, you found yourself growing more and more flustered. You tried to steer the conversation in a direction that would make him realize your feelings, but he remained oblivious. You felt a pang of jealousy as he joked with another girl nearby, laughing at something she said. Wonwoo's frustration only grew as he watched you pine after someone who clearly wasn't interested. Wonwoo finally couldn't take it anymore. He walked over to where you and Mingyu were standing and inserted himself into the conversation.

"Hey," he said, his voice firm. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" Mingyu looked a bit surprised at Wonwoo's interruption, but he nodded and stepped away to give you two some privacy. You followed Wonwoo to a quieter corner of the room, your heart racing with a mix of anticipation and nerves.

Once you were alone, Wonwoo turned to face you, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. "You need to stop," he said bluntly. "Stop flirting with Mingyu and wasting your time." You were taken aback by his bluntness, but you couldn't deny that a part of you had been expecting this conversation. "Why?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "He's not interested, I know that, but I can't just give up." Wonwoo's frustration grew as he saw the stubborn look on your face.

"You're so blind," he said, his voice rising slightly. "Mingyu doesn't care about you like that, and you're just setting yourself up for heartbreak." You crossed your arms, defensive. "You don't know that," you retorted. "Maybe he just needs a little push." Wonwoo shook his head, clearly exasperated. "No, he doesn't. He's made it clear that he doesn't see you that way. You're just wasting your time chasing after someone who will never love you back."

His words stung, but you couldn't deny the truth in them. You had seen the way Mingyu acted around you, the way he never reciprocated your flirting or gave any indication that he was interested. But despite that, you still held onto hope that things could change. "Maybe I'm just being optimistic," you said quietly, looking down at the ground. Wonwoo couldn't hold back any longer. He stepped closer to you, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and longing.

"No, you're being stubborn and stupid," he said, his voice firm but tinged with desperation. "Because I'm the one who loves you. I've been right here, watching you chase after someone who doesn't deserve you." Your eyes widened in surprise as his words sank in. You had never seen Wonwoo like this before, so raw and vulnerable. "What?" you whispered, your heart racing. "You...you love me?" Wonwoo nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and vulnerability.

"Yes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've loved you for a long time, but I never said anything because I thought you were in love with Mingyu." Your mind was racing as you tried to process his confession. You had always thought of Wonwoo as a close friend, but you never considered the possibility that he felt something more for you. "Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, your voice shaking slightly. Wonwoo ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and defeated.

"I didn't want to ruin our friendship," he said. "I didn't want to risk losing you if you didn't feel the same way. So I kept quiet and watched you chase after someone who doesn't deserve you." Wonwoo looked at you with a mixture of hope and pleading in his eyes.

"Please," he said softly. "Give me a chance. I know I'm not perfect, but I'll do anything to make you happy. Just stop chasing after someone who doesn't appreciate you and let me show you how much I care." You were torn. On one hand, you had spent so long pining after Mingyu that it felt like giving up on him would be letting go of a part of yourself. But on the other hand, there was Wonwoo, standing in front of you, confessing his love and offering you a chance at something real.

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all you saw was sincerity and longing. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the decision you were about to make. "Okay," you said quietly. "I'll give you a chance." Wonwoo's eyes lit up with hope and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Really?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You mean it?" You nodded, a small smile of your own forming.

"Yeah, I mean it," you said. "I'm tired of chasing after someone who doesn't want me. I'm ready to give you a chance." Wonwoo's eyes darkened with a mix of desire and determination. "I want to show you how much I've been wanting you," he said, his voice low and seductive. "Will you let me?" You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his voice. The way he was looking at you, as if you were the only person in the world, made your heart race with anticipation.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Show me." Wonwoo's grip on your wrist was firm as he led you upstairs, his strides long and purposeful. He didn't even hesitate as he opened the door to Mingyu's room and pulled you inside, closing the door behind him. The room was dark, with only the soft glow of a lamp illuminating the space. Wonwoo pressed you against the wall, his body flush against yours. He pinned you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body as he pressed his lips against your neck.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. Wonwoo's words were rough and possessive, his desire for you clear in his voice. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes burning with intensity. "Let me show you how much better I am than him," he repeated, his fingers tracing a path down your body. "Let me make you forget all about Mingyu." Wonwoo smirked as he continued to press you against the wall, his hands moving lower and lower down your body.

"Even on his bed, I'll still be better," he whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with confidence. "I'll make you scream my name and forget all about that idiot." Wonwoo pushed you onto the bed, his body following closely behind. He hovered over you, his eyes raking over your body with a possessive hunger. "You're mine now," he growled, his hands roaming over your curves. "No more Mingyu, no more thinking about anyone else but me."

"Yes," you gasped out, your breath catching in your throat as he continued to touch you. "I'm yours. Only yours." Wonwoo's lips curled into a satisfied smirk at your words. He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and exploring every inch. As he kissed you, his hands continued to roam over your body, his touch growing more urgent and possessive with each passing moment.

Wonwoo broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. He nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. "You have no idea how long I've dreamed of having you like this," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. "All mine, writhing and moaning beneath me." Wonwoo's hands made quick work of the fabric of your dress, slowly revealing more and more of your skin. He pushed the material down your body, his eyes drinking in every inch of you as it fell to the floor.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns across your bare skin. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this." Wonwoo tossed his t-shirt aside, revealing his toned chest and muscular arms. He looked down at you with a hungry expression, his eyes roaming over your body.

"You're perfect," he said, his voice rough with desire. "I can't believe I almost let you slip away from me." He leaned down, his body pressing against yours, his skin hot against yours. You could feel his hardness pressing against you through his jeans, and he let out a low growl of frustration.

"I need you," he said, his lips finding your ear. "Now."

Wonwoo's hands moved to the waistband of your panties, his fingers tracing the edge teasingly. "Lift your hips for me," he commanded, his voice firm and commanding. You obeyed his command, lifting your hips off the bed. Wonwoo slowly pulled your panties down your legs, his eyes fixed on the sight of your exposed body.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," he said, his voice low and husky. "And all mine."

"Get on your hands and knees," Wonwoo commanded, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to take you from behind."

"I'm sorry, but I need to show you what you've been missing," Wonwoo repeated, his voice filled with a mix of apology and determination. "You deserve to feel pleasure like you've never felt before." You slowly got onto your hands and knees, your body trembling with anticipation. As you presented yourself to Wonwoo, you felt a mix of vulnerability and excitement coursing through your veins. You could feel the heat of his gaze on your body, his eyes roaming over every curve and contour. You could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken promise of pleasure that was about to be fulfilled. Wonwoo positioned himself behind you, his hands running over your back and down to your hips. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back as he whispered in your ear.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look like this," he said, his breath hot against your skin. "All mine, ready and waiting for me." He trailed his lips down your spine, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. His hands continued to explore your body, his touch growing more confident and possessive. "I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised, his voice low and seductive. "I'm going to make you forget everything but my name." Wonwoo slowly pushed himself inside you, filling you up inch by inch. He let out a low groan of pleasure as he bottomed out, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice strained. "You feel so good. So tight and perfect." Wonwoo set a punishing pace, his thrusts hard and rough as he pounded into you from behind. Each movement was filled with purpose, as if he was determined to erase any memory of Mingyu from your mind. He leaned forward, his chest pressed against your back, his lips finding the nape of your neck. He bit down gently, marking you as his own. As you arched your back, pushing your body against him, Wonwoo's grip on your hips tightened. He adjusted his angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you with every thrust.

"You're so good for me," he panted, his voice thick with pleasure. "Taking me so well, just like you were made for me." Wonwoo tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back slightly. The sudden sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you moaned loudly in response. "That's it," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "I want to hear you moan for me. I want everyone to know who you belong to."

"Scream my name," Wonwoo commanded, his voice rough and dominant. "Let everyone know who's making you feel this way." As he continued to pound into you, his thrusts growing faster and harder, you couldn't hold back any longer. The pleasure was too much, and you screamed his name. "Wonwoo!" you cried out, your voice echoing through the room. Wonwoo's grip on your hair loosened as he heard you scream his name, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "That's it, baby," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're mine. Say it again."

"I'm yours, Wonwoo," you panted, your voice ragged with pleasure. "I'm all yours." He growled in response, his thrusts becoming more urgent and desperate. He was close, and he wanted you to come undone for him. "Say it again," he demanded, his fingers digging into your hips. "I need to hear you say it one more time."

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," you chanted, the words spilling from your lips like a mantra. You could feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tight in your core.

"That's it," Wonwoo groaned, his voice strained. "Come for me, baby. Come for me and I'll give you everything." You felt your body tense, your muscles coiling tightly as your orgasm washed over you. You cried out Wonwoo's name, your body shaking with the force of your release. Wonwoo followed soon after, his own climax crashing over him as he thrust into you one final time. He buried his face in your neck, his body shuddering against yours as he came deep inside you. Wonwoo's thrusts slowed as he rode out his orgasm, his body trembling against yours. He held you close, his arms wrapping around you as he caught his breath.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "You're amazing. I don't think I've ever felt that good before."

Wonwoo carefully pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were lying on top of him. He traced lazy patterns on your back, his fingers skimming over your skin. “I'm never letting you go," he murmured, his voice filled with possessiveness. "You're mine, forever." Wonwoo reached over and grabbed a blanket, pulling it over the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you snuggled into his chest.

"We should stay like this for a while," he said, his voice sleepy. "Just us, no one else."

"That was...incredible," you murmured, your voice soft and dreamy. "You were incredible."

All of a sudden the door swung open and Mingyu walked in, stopping in his tracks as he took in the sight of you and Wonwoo lying together on his bed, wrapped up in each other. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment he just stood there, speechless. Mingyu's eyes darted around the room, taking in the scattered clothes and the obvious signs of what had just happened. He looked back at you and Wonwoo, his expression a mix of shock and anger.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, his voice sharp. Wonwoo smirked, his arms tightening around you as he spoke.

"Just showing her what she's been missing, that's all," he said casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "And I must say, she's been enjoying herself quite a bit."

[stansthemans]

Stan sex work ptsd with Ford finding out during their first time goes brrrrrr in my brain

Sliding into the tight heat of Stan’s body should be amazing, transcendental, the most glorious physical experience of Ford’s life. For a moment, it is. For a moment, everything is perfection. His brother loves him, loves him in all the ways that Ford loves him in return. They have exchanged words of love and gentle kisses. Kisses that grow more and more heated as hands become more and more desperate. Desperate to touch, to feel every inch of each other, to memorize smooth planes and raised scars, both old and new.

Stan’s moans as Ford rolls his hips are so beautiful, music to his ears. The way he clenches around Ford’s cock, providing him with the most perfect pressure, it should only be obscene, but it too is beautiful. Feather light, Ford kisses his brother’s back, over the burn scar from so many years ago, and Stanley shudders.

“Getting—fuck—getting sentimental on me, Sixer,” Stanley says, rocking back to meet him.

Another kiss, an apology he has already spoken so many times, and will continue to speak. “Yes,” Ford says. “For you, absolutely.”

“Sap,” Stan says, and Ford hears the truth in that statement, that Stan adores him too, that this is good, it’s perfect. “You can do more. I ain’t gonna break.” He pushes his hips back hard to meet Ford’s next thrust, proving his point in the most delicious way.

Ford groans, his fingers digging deeper into the soft skin at Stan’s hips, deep enough to bruise. Yes, he wants that. He wants to mark Stan as his, lay complete claim to him. If anyone were ever in an opportunity to see these bruises, Ford is sure he would lose the entirety of his mind, but he wants those marks dark and deep—replenished each time they begin to fade—on Stan’s skin so that there can be no doubt that Stan belongs to him.

And if Stan is his, then it is Ford’s responsibility to give him what he wants. Ford picks up his pace, his thrusts harder and deeper. “Oh fuck,” Stan shouts. His arms, thick with corded muscle, tremble with the effort of supporting himself, and soon enough, he drops down to his forearms, back curved in a gorgeous arch. And Ford doesn’t have to wonder for even a second if the change of position is good, if it will lead to a truly glorious prize, because on the next thrust in, Stan is screaming into the pillow.

Ford pounds into him harder, desperate to hear more of those beautiful moans, desperate to make Stan feel better than he ever has in his life. But that pillow, that detestable pillow, is muffling those perfect moans, the transcendent sound of Ford’s name spilling from his brother’s lips. “No, Stanley,” Ford moans. “Let me hear you.” And he curls his fingers into Stan’s sweat damp hair and sharply tugs him back up.

It is in that instant that everything changes.

Stan goes rigid, and the whimper that escapes his lips is not one of pleasure. Ford freezes, his own blood like ice in his veins. “Stanley,” he asks, low and careful. “Stanley, are you—“

“Fine,” Stan chokes out, and the one word alone is broken glass.

Ford eases his grip, both on Stan’s hair and hip, and pulls out slowly. “N-no,” Stan stammers. “No, it’s—Ford, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s nothing.”

Ford helps Stan to sit back, helps him fold his legs in a manner that won’t strain his knees or hips. “It is clearly not fine,” Ford says, cupping Stan’s face. Not only is Stan very noticeably no longer hard, but he’s begun to tremble like a leaf. It’s not the good sort of trembling it was earlier, when they had first pressed their bodies together, when they had said with plain and uncompromising words how they love each other.

“It is,” Stan says through his teeth, but the sweat on his forehead is cold, and his face is ashen, and his eyes are quickly growing distant. “It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s—“

Ford folds Stan into his arms, holds him tight against his chest. Stan clings back, blunt nails digging into Ford’s skin. “I’ve got you,” Ford says firmly. “I’m right here, Stanley. I’ve got you.”

He does not say that it’s fine, because it isn’t right now. He doesn’t say that it will be ok, because he doesn’t know what is going on in Stan’s mind. He does, however, recognize a panic attack when he sees one. He does recognize that far off look of someone slipping into the past. It’s agony to know that he can’t stop it, can’t protect his brother from his own memories. All Ford can do is sit there, hold him, promise him that he’s there, he isn’t leaving, he’ll always be right here, he loves him.

Ford doesn’t know how long it takes before Stan’s breathing begins to steady, before the desperate way he clings to Ford eases just the slightest bit. Ford pets at his brother’s hair, squeezes gently on the back of his neck. “Are you here,” he asks, voice a low whisper. “Are you back with me?”

“I—I’m sorry,” Stan gasps, and Ford’s heart breaks.

“No,” he says, pulling back just enough to cup Stan’s face, to look into his wet, red-rimmed eyes. “No, Stanley. No, you don’t—can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Stan begs, the tears falling from his eyes. Ford pulls him forward, lips slotting against Stan’s, desperate to tell him in this way too that he’s here and he loves him.

“What happened,” Ford asks, thumbs wiping the tears away. “What did I do?”

“Naw,” Stan says, kissing him again all too sweetly. “Wasn’t you.”

“It clearly was,” Ford says, distressed but trying very hard to not lose control himself because he hurt his brother. His teeth are on edge, but he knows if he loses control, it will only be worse for Stan, and he will not make it worse. “Everything was—it was so perfect but then I pulled your hair and—“ Ford stops short. “I pulled your hair.”

“I—uh—I guess I don’t like that,” Stan grumbles, and he won’t meet Ford’s eyes. There are certainly plenty of indicators to choose from that this situation is serious, but that’s the biggest one. Stan is more than capable of lying while looking someone directly in the eyes, but not Ford. Ford has always been able to see everything there, no matter how much Stan wants to hide it.

Ford folds his hands over Stan’s, intertwining their fingers. “It’s more than that,” Ford says. Stan still doesn’t look at him. “Please, love,” Ford says. “We—we have to talk about things. I know we’re bad at that, but there are so many bad things that wouldn’t have happened if we’d just bothered to talk to each other. I don’t—I can’t hurt you like this. Please, Stanley.”

For a long moment, they simply sit there, holding tight to each other’s hands. Stan still isn’t looking at him, but Ford cannot tear his eyes away. He watches everything, every slight twitch of Stan’s frowning lips, the clenching of his jaw, his throat working around a lump. A desperate part of Ford wants to demand that Stan speak, grab hold of him tight and shake until he spills. But that would only make things worse. He has to wait, even if the wait is agony.

Finally, Stan huffs a defeated sort of sigh, and he mutters, “Just reminded me of some bad times.”

They have spoken about their time apart, both before and after the initial portal incident. Ford knows that neither of them has gone into much detail, but they have told each other enough for them to know that neither of them was having a good time without his twin. Both dealt with homelessness, resorting to criminal activity to make ends meet, and crippling loneliness.

But what Stan says next, Ford is in no way expecting. “Some of Rico’s guys, you know, and just, shitty Johns in general.”

“Johns,” Ford echoes, trying to make that word make sense in connection to his brother, but there’s a mental block roughly the size of the Berlin Wall getting in the way.

“Yeah, Sixer,” Stan says slowly. “Johns are—“

“I know what Johns are,” Ford snaps. “Why would you—“

And Stan still isn’t looking at him, but everything about him radiates shame. Shame. That’s not—Stan does not do shame, not like this. When Stan decides to do something, he stands by it firmly and stubbornly, even when he is so clearly in the wrong. He had risked the entire world, this entire dimension including the kids that he loves so dearly, by turning on the portal to bring Ford back, Ford who might have been dead for all Stan knew. He had known all the risks and dangers, and he just hadn’t cared. In his mind, Ford was more important than it all, even if the odds were horribly stacked against him coming back.

Events big and small, Stan is never ashamed of himself. So why is that the emotion so clearly radiating from him in waves?

“Stanley, why would you be involved with Johns?” Ford still cannot make himself understand this.

“Come on, Sixer,” Stan says miserably. “You really gonna make me spell this out?”

“Apparently I must,” Ford says, his stomach twisting, because no. No, it can’t be.

“Pa kicked me out of the house at barely seventeen years old,” Stan says. “Fifty bucks and a half packed duffle. Shit went bad real fast, and everything I tried to make ends meet just was worse and worse. I—I had to do something, and apparently I was good at it. Or at least good enough to get paid.”

There is some odd noise ringing in Ford’s ears that makes each new word Stan speaks harder and harder to hear while at the same time comprehension slams into him like a tidal wave.

His brother spent some amount of time—possibly years, possibly when not even a legal adult yet—so desperate to survive that he was forced into selling his body for men to do with it as they pleased. His brother had looked at his life and seen only one option to get the money needed to put food into his belly and that was to allow strange and cruel men to fuck him and throw whatever amount of coin his way after. His brother had to allow himself to be treated like an object, something to be used and then discarded, little better than trash.

The blood in Ford’s veins is somehow both ice and molten lava at the same time. He’s shaking and sweating, numb and burning.

“I know it’s—I didn’t want to tell you. I should have,” Stan is saying. “That way you’d know that I’m—I’m not—“

Ford feels the same way he did when Stan told him the truth of the differences in how their father treated them as children. The hurricane of rage clouds everything but the desire to know names. He wants to find these men. He wants to erase their existence immediately with his quantum destabilizer, but he also wants to prolong it, to make them truly understand how badly they fucked up, how unforgivable their actions were, how they could have destroyed and shattered the most precious thing Ford has ever known, which is something that Ford cannot abide.

“You deserve better than me.”

“What?” Stan’s defeated, broken statement slams Ford back into his body. Did he just—? “How dare you,” Ford hisses.

Stan flinches and starts to move away. “I’m sorry, I’ll—“

No. Absolutely not. Stan is not allowed to move even a centimeter away from him. In fact, he needs to be closer. Ford darts forward and grabs Stan in a tight hold, pulling him fully into his lap, clinging to him with a renewed desperation. Away from him is where Stan gets hurt. Ford has hurt him too in the past, but never again. He’ll die first. “Shut up, Stanley,” Ford says, and he buries his face into Stan’s neck and locks his hands around his back in a tight hold that Stan will not be able to break.

“Not gonna lie, I’m kind of confused,” Stan says after a moment.

The rage is not quelled, but Ford does recognize that he has not been clear. Time to rectify that mistake. He will not allow Stan to labor under any delusions as to his feelings. “Do not ever talk about yourself like that again,” Ford says through his teeth. “There is no one better than you. You are perfect. I am extremely angry right now, but not at you. I wish very much that I could find every person who treated you so terribly and disintegrate their atoms.”

The tension in Stan’s body starts to ease, just slightly. “Not to out myself as kind of a nerd—but only by necessity—you can’t disintegrate non-radioactive atoms,” he says.


“I will find a way,” Ford promises in a dark, vengeful hiss. He is being fully serious, but his declaration makes Stan laugh. Ford is still angry. He will be angry about this for his entire life, but that beautiful sound of his brother laughing, a chuckle that builds up into a loud guffaw, lets Ford release at least some of the pressure threatening to make him snap.

“Sure you would, Poindexter,” Stan says. “But—um—this is ok?”

“That you were hurt like that will never be ok to me,” Ford says.

“No, I mean—“ Ford’s face is still pressed into his brother’s neck, but he can practically hear him chewing on his bottom lip. “You’re not—you know—“

“I don’t know,” Ford says.

“Fuck,” Stan grumbles. “You don’t think I’m disgusting? Like you don’t want to call all this off?”

Ford lifts his head and stares at Stan bewildered. “What are you talking about?” Stan isn’t exactly blushing, but his face is a bit red, and some of that impossible shame seems to be settling back into place. It’s a dilemma, but Ford makes the choice to release his hold around his brother but only so that his hands are free to cup Stan’s face. “I love you,” Ford says, slowly and firmly. “I have loved you and wanted this since long before I understood what I wanted. What do you mean, call it off?”

A dread begins to seep into his bones. Does Stan not want this anymore, now that Ford knows? Does he not want him, now that Ford has proven capable of so easily bringing up these old hurts?

“Hey, hey, stop it,” Stan says, all too gently, his own hands finding Ford’s face. “I can see that giant brain of yours going into overdrive. I love you too. I want you too. I just—“

“Explain,” Ford demands, his heart beating too fast, although Stan’s hands on his face are grounding and soothing.

“I don’t exactly feel good about that shit,” Stan says, his eyes lowering. Ford rubs his thumbs over Stan’s stubble rough cheeks. “It was fucked enough on its own, but I always used to—I thought if you knew, you’d hate me even more.”

“I have never hated you, Stanley,” Ford says. It’s true. No matter how angry, how bitter, how desperately sad Ford was ever feeling in the forty years they were separated, hatred was never something he could muster up. Those negative emotions were real, and they did taint much of how he thought of his brother, but always still, in and around it all, Ford loved him. There is nothing that either of them could ever do that would take that away. They are too ingrained into each other’s souls.

Stan shrugs a bit. “Or be disappointed in me,” he says in a manner that suggests it would be an inevitable and obvious way that Ford ought to feel, and that cuts Ford deeply. “Hey, what’re you—“ And then Stan’s thumbs are moving over Ford’s cheeks, and that’s when Ford realizes that he’s crying. And now that Ford realizes he’s crying, the tears come harder. “Oh shit, Sixer, no,” Stan says, so soft, so gentle, and now he’s the one holding Ford close, his hands moving in slow, steady, soothing trails over Ford’s neck and shoulders, his voice uttering a gentle mantra that he’s there, it’s ok.

It feels like it takes forever for Ford to calm down enough to force out the words, “I’m sorry.”

“Sixer, no,” Stan starts, but Ford shakes his head.

“No, I am,” Ford sobs. “You—I made you feel like I would have—“

“Hey, no.” Stan squeezes the back of his neck, and it helps Ford feel like he can breathe again. “I—fuck—I don’t know, Sixer. Maybe you did. Maybe I was just fucked up about it all on my own.”

Ford sniffles, and it’s a disgusting sound. He’s always been a disgusting crier. Despite that they have the exact same face, he always thought Stan did it better. If someone can cry better than others. Certainly Stan never produced as much snot or got quite so blotchy and puffy. “Still, I never meant,” Ford starts, and Stan shushes him.

“I know, Stanford, I know,” Stan says. He pauses for a moment, and then he leans forward and kisses the tears from Ford’s cheeks. “Hey, so we kind really beefed this thing up, huh?”

Ford huffs a wet chuckle. “Understatement.” He frowns. “I’m sorry.” Stan opens his mouth, but Ford plows on. “No, I am. I wanted—it was so perfect, Stanley. You were so perfect. I wanted to make you feel so good but—“

“You did,” he says. “If that’s how prostate exams went, I’d go more often.”

Ford snorts. “As if you’ve ever gone in for a proper prostate exam even once.”

Stan rolls his eyes. “Like I’m paying some quack doctor to stick a finger up my ass and not even get off for my troubles. But we can try again. I mean, not tonight. Mood’s definitely killed, but maybe in the morning?”

“I would like that very much,” Ford says. He leans forward just a bit, not quite closing the distance, until he sees the little uptick of Stan’s lips. Then Ford kisses his small smile. “Are you as tired as I am?”

“I think a marathon run of fucking worthy of teenagers would have been less exhausting than this talking about our feelings shit,” Stan says.

They settle back together in bed, this time under the covers. Ford wraps Stan up in his arms, the press of skin to skin soothing. Even more so is the warmth of Stan’s breath across his chest. Ford trails his hands along Stan’s arm slung across his stomach, up and down his back. Stan’s skin erupts in pleased goosebumps. Ford continues over his neck and then stops short.

Stan lets out a displeased grumble. “Why’d you stop?”

Ford has to swallow past a lump in his throat. “I—I almost touched your hair again. And I did it when you were—when you were upset—before you told me.”

“Hey, Sixer,” Stan starts.

“I’m sorry,” Ford says.

“Honestly, getting really sick of that phrase tonight.”

“Stanley,” Ford starts.

“No, I am,” Stan says. For a moment, they lie there, the calm broken again. Then, Stan sighs and asks lowly. “Remember what I told you about Pa?”

Immediately, Ford’s blood heats again, the anger starting to bubble towards a boil. Stan’s fingers dig into his side, both a warning and grounding. “He grabbed my hair a lot too,” Stan says. “To throw me around. ‘Cause that didn’t leave bruises like it did when he’d grab my arm or something.” Stan’s thumb starts to move in slow, steady trails over Ford’s ribs. Ford matches his breaths in time to it. “I hated people touching my hair. I hated when it was aunts at family functions. I hated when it was the couple of girls I went out with in high school. I hated guys at the gym or coaches ruffling it up. I hated the goddamned barber. I still do. But know what I never hated?”

Another lump forms up in Ford’s throat. Because he does know.

“I never hated this,” Stan says. “When it was just you and me. Maybe after I had a bad dream. Or you were reading some adventure book out loud. When it was just you and me, laying around like this, and yeah, we had on more clothes then.” Ford laughs wetly, and Stan snickers at his own joke. “But it was just like this, and you’d pet my hair or kind of drag your knuckles on my scalp, and I never hated that. I loved that.”

“Sap,” Ford accuses before Stan can. His voice only warbles slightly with the emotion as he buries his fingers into Stan’s hair, nails light on his scalp.

Stan melts. He melts just like he did when they were kids, when they curled up just like this—yes, with at least shorts on—as if they were the only two people in the world, locked into a perfect bubble of warmth and comfort and each other.

“Love you too,” Stan mumbles, starting to succumb to the exhaustion of the incredibly emotional evening.

“So much, Stanley,” Ford says, struggling also, but he manages to keep himself awake, keep his fingers moving in steady trails until Stan falls asleep. Then, Ford is seconds behind him.

[miwiheroes]

Dropping Byler evidence Every Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 15: Will's 'Love interest' . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Obviously, as bylers, we have all seen many many people out there constantly saying that Will deserves better, or that Will should have a different love interest, and will have a getting over Mike arc in S5. There are many reasons why these things are not true.

I could easily go on and on and on about this for ages, talking about arcs and why the narrative has not built this up at all but instead here are some simple reasons that don't need much thought on why this would make no sense:

Will is taking 'centre stage' in season 5. Creating a new love interest for this season where he's the main character is stupid, because that means if they want that relationship to be well written, they would need to have A LOT of focus on his love interest too. I understood doing this with Robin (where Vickie is a new character), because she is not one of the main characters and will not have as much impact as Will in S5. No new important characters have been spotted with Will.

Will did not get a love interest in S4. Instead of introducing a new character for Will to fall in love with, they establish that he's in love with Mike instead! In the penultimate season of a show! So that the audience can already have this view that Will may never get the thing that he wants! Just for them to be wrong in the final season after years of waiting, subverting the audience's expectations, which the writers love to do anyways.

Will being in love with Mike has been planned from the beginning. This does not suddenly get dropped after no pay-off. If he is taking centre stage and having his coming of age arc in S5, why would this mean that he gets over Mike? His whole arc is realising that he should be loved instead of settling for being alone???? And he's been planned to be in love with Mike since S1??? So,,,,

They did not have to make Will be in love with Mike. Some people may think that Will's arc only surrounds him being gay and getting acceptance for that. That would make sense! Honestly, that would be a good arc. If he wasn't in love with Mike, when that is clearly a choice that the writers have made. They did not have to make him in love with a boy for years to make it believable that he's got internalised homophobia that he needs to overcome. The writers did not give themselves the easy way out.

Will has stated that he will never stop loving Mike. Will has stated multiple times that he wants to spend the rest of his life with Mike. In the garage in S3 and in the van in S4. This is TWICE and the actors have pointed this out to the viewers to show that Will loves Mike (see Finn and David in that one interview thing pre S4). This seems like enough evidence, but there's still more! He also says he'll never join another party, which, if you don't understand subtext, means that he'll never love someone else. Will then, in the big climax of his arc in S4, states that, in a sign of resignation, he will ALWAYS need Mike no matter what. Is that the face of a man who will suddenly stop loving the guy who he has just sacrificed everything for?

Will has been set up to have his happy ending. We have been shown countless times that Will is selfless. It is an integral part of his character that affects his actions constantly, sometimes hurting himself and other characters in the process. He has also dealt with a lot of pain. Why would a character that feels like he will never fall in love with someone else, whilst still sacrificing himself at every turn, be right about feeling worthless in the end? What? Imagine the message of Will's arc, in a show about outcasts where the theme is that love overpowers hate and that cycles of abuse should be broken, become 'we all need to admit that sometimes we can't have everything we want'.

Will does not 'deserve better'. Hear me out on this one okay? I can't imagine saying that Will deserves better than to have Mike love him back. Mike has been presented as someone that Will loves because Mike is the only one that understands him, the only one that protects him, the only one that doesn't make him feel like a freak, the one who says that making friends with him was the best thing he ever did. Also, also, S5 is definitely going to make Mike seem more likeable to the GA again. It's basically been confirmed at this point, and so, I can't imagine making Mike very lovable all for Will to suddenly deserve better than him again and date someone else.

Will's happy ending is only with Mike. It has been stated many times in interviews that The Duffers are apparently weaving this thread of a storyline where everyone's arcs get completed perfectly and everyone gets their perfect ending. In what universe do people really think that after all this, after Will being selfless and self-sacrificing for years, after Will believing he's a mistake that doesn't deserve love, after Will saying he's going to be in love with Mike forever, he will get a random guy's phone number in a bar or some shit? And that will be his amazing happy ending? That lazy ending will happen to a guy where the whole season will be centred on him? l can't with people on twitter. Take a moment to think.

[bckwardsfrwards]

could you do dr phosphorus x reader relationship headcanons on a alien reader

Absolutely! Thanks for the ask :D

These are for a GN reader! Headcanons below the cut sorry for the long wait I have a lot of projects I'm working on at the moment!

At first he'd be a bit weary, You being from an entirely different planet and all. But he'd be quick to warm up to you once he realized you weren't a real threat to him. (Not that much is)

He'd crack stupid jokes with you most of which you don't understand. But his genuine attempts to make you laugh slowly start to work. And when you reference something from your homeworld he's equally puzzled. You both laugh anyways putting the cultural difference aside.

He often seeks you out since you more than tolerate his presence. He was so used to being alone or disregarded that he easily latches onto your genuine attention.

You often find yourselves telling stories from your past, some pleasant but most not. You sympathize with the doctor and all he has lost.

"Courting" with Doctor Phosphorus is a little strange to say the least. You're unused to Earth's unspoken societal rules and rituals. So when he is openly being flirtatious you're a little oblivious to it. You can't see his eyes and you don't understand the meaning of prolonged eye contact, so when you finally figure out his intentions of romancing you you're a little embarrassed at your obliviousness.

Actually dating the doctor is an interesting experience for the both of you. You've never been with an earthling and he's never even seen an alien before you. But you quickly catch on to what he likes.

You learn Phosphorus hasn't known a friendly touch in 15 years and without thinking too much you pull him into an embrace. He's a bit shocked when you pull back and you're completely unharmed. Casual touches quickly become one of your favorite things. Tracing the outline of his bones over his translucent skin.

You can see through him both literally and figuratively. He's not as good at hiding his emotions as he thinks. He seeks you out often just for the comfort of your presence. Whether it's sitting together in companionable silence or just holding hands, feeling the heat radiate from him.

You learn that it's not as hard to read Phosphorus as you originally thought. The way the flames on his head grow a little hotter and burn a little brighter when he's upset. How after a particularly draining mission he'll be more needy for your touch than normal.

He has no shame when it comes to your relationship. Often joking openly with the other commandos about it. Holding your hand in the back of the transport car. Trying his damnedest not to let you out of his sight. He's overly cautious and for good reason, he's terrified of losing you.

You can hold your own in a fight but whenever you find yourself injured he's gentle with you. Attentive and overly cautious making sure that your wounds are tended to. He tells you it's because he was an actual doctor once but you can tell it's just an excuse to worry over you.

As snarky and sarcastic as he is, he is also very genuine and caring. He tries to put your needs before his own whenever he can. Deflecting and claiming he doesn't need to be doted on. But you do anyway, you show him the same gentleness and affection that he so clearly craves and he melts into it.

You show him love he hasn't known in this body and he isn't sure how to handle it. He's torn between giving in and staying reserved. But he lets you in, lets himself be vulnerable and cared for.

That's all for now, maybe I'll do a part 2 and include NSFW headcanons :)

[aphroditelovesu]

Can I request yandere alphabet for Will Graham?

❝ 🔪 — lady l: oh, I missed writing to him :( I love this sad man who clearly has mommy issues. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 💙

❝tw: yandere themes, obsessive and possessive behavior, kidnapping, mention of death, punishments and murder.

❝🔪pairing: yandere!will graham x gender neutral!reader.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Will likes to touch you, whether it’s soft or firm, he likes to have his hands on you. He’ll never admit it, but he’s hungry for touch and for your love, and he loves touching you and being touched in return.

His favorite form of affection is spending time with you, doing something you both enjoy. Will likes to take you fishing with him, to enjoy the silence with you while he gives you furtive glances and smiles that only you have the privilege of seeing.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Very messy.

Will, although he tries to fight his inner darkness, still has it and when it comes to you, your safety and happiness, he can become his most ruthless self. He will kill, disembowel and even go so far as to torture anyone who poses a risk or, depending on how obsessed he is, tries to steal you from him.

He may feel guilty about the carnage later but it won't last long. It never does when it comes to you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Will tries to be patient with you and he is. He knows that you are stressed and scared because of the kidnapping and he will try to remain as calm and distant as possible so as not to make you more scared.

But his patience is not infinite. If you continue to reject his attempts to get closer to you, Will can and will become more firm in his approaches. His touch, which was once gentle, will become firmer and leave some marks on your skin. He will feel guilty, however, after seeing the bruises and will apologize several times. He does not want you to hate him, you cannot hate him.

Will will not mock you. He loves you too much to do that to you, to mock your pain and fear.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He will force himself into your life, his constant and eventually sole presence in your life. Will may force some touching, like hugging, holding your hand, and even kissing, but he will not sexually abuse you or do anything to that level.

Will is going to force his overwhelming love on you and that's final.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Will is careful at first. He knows that you don't feel the same way about him yet, and as much as it hurts, he can't just force those feelings on you, unfortunately.

He will show you his heart little by little, as you get used to his presence. Little by little, you will have Will Graham's heart in your hands, yours to love and care for, even to break. But don't break it, Will wouldn't be able to handle it and you would suffer the consequences.

His vulnerability will depend on how much he trusts you. In the beginning, Will will be careful not to show too much of what he feels and thinks, but as time goes by, his defenses will break down and he will be more vulnerable and accessible to you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Will is going to be upset but he understands. His ability to empathize with anyone helps him understand why you are fighting with him, rejecting him.

It hurts but he understands.

Will will avoid taking it out on you and will try to calm you down, whispering in your ear as he ties you back to the bed. He can't risk you getting hurt or hurting him, so Will can and will restrain you if necessary.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No, it's definitely not a game for Will. He loves you more than anything in his life and he wants you to love him back.

He hates it when you try to run away from him because that's a form of rejection and Will doesn't accept rejection from you in any way. He'll drag you back home screaming and kicking if necessary, but if you won't run away and any freedom you had before will be taken away.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

If you try to run away from him, Will is going to become more firm and cold, even aggressive in his approaches. If you had any freedom before, you will no longer have it. Every day and minute of your life will be spent with him, locked in the house. Will would be so paranoid about the prospect of you running away that he would follow you even to the bathroom if he could, but usually he waits outside (if it is platonic).

There will be no privacy, not a single minute of your life will be spent alone, always with Will's watchful eyes on you. Will is going to make sure you know that you made a grave mistake by betraying him in this way and will make you feel guilty.

Will is an excellent manipulator, after all.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Will would like to settle down in a more secluded location (more than where he lives) with you and your dogs. If he is a romantic yandere, Will would like to marry you and have children, whether adopted or biological, he wants a family with you either way.

The ideal future for him is for you to be isolated from the rest of society and together forever. With a dog and human family to come.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Will gets jealous very easily, especially if it's early in your relationship.

He doesn't fully trust you yet and knows that you're not completely comfortable with him yet, so he's more likely to get jealous easily. Will won't kill anyone who looks at you, but he will get upset about it, especially if your attention isn't on him.

Will is more likely to isolate you if he gets too jealous; if you had any contact with friends or family, you won't anymore. Not until you learn that you belong to him. And you will learn.

You won't have much of a choice, not when he's your only companion.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Will is very affectionate with you. Although he is not the biggest fan of physical contact at first, as your relationship progresses, he will feel more comfortable showing himself to be needy.

He touches you whenever he can, even if it is in subtle ways. A hand on your shoulder, lifting your chin, caressing your face and kissing your forehead affectionately. Will likes to show that he loves you in a physical way.

He likes to kiss your lips, whether it is a chaste kiss or a more passionate one, but your mouth on his is something he really enjoys, even if it was a forced kiss.

Love Letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Will is more subtle about how he approaches you. He'll watch you from afar at first, his eyes never leaving your form, afraid that you might disappear if he did.

He's not necessarily shy, just... Bad at approaching you directly, insecure, although once he becomes more confident, Will will be more direct and make it clear that he's interested in you. He'll probably even come up to you and ask you out if he's more confident, but at first he'll just watch you from afar.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes and no. Everyone already believes that Will is weird, that there is something wrong with him, and Will doesn't really care what these people think, but he does care what you think.

Will doesn't want you to be afraid of him unless it's absolutely necessary. If it's not necessary, he'll try his best to hide his dark tendencies for your sake, smiling gently as he touches your hand and dismisses your concerns.

But if Will is in a really difficult state of mind, he'll be more rigid and even more controlling, the mask he wears with you slipping for a moment.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Will is never going to physically hurt you on purpose. He will never raise a hand to you, he doesn't want to and he knows it would be pointless anyway.

His punishments are simpler but effective. Will becomes more controlling and you can't even breathe wrong around him, because you will receive harsh looks. The way he touches you will be firmer, squeezing your arm lightly or staring at you in a way that will make your blood run cold.

You will feel his disapproval, the hard look that will never leave you. And he knows it is enough to scare you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Will is going to take away your privacy rights and obviously your right to leave the house.

He doesn't want you to feel bad, he really doesn't, but Will won't let you go or let you have any privacy. He loves you too much to even consider the idea that there is some part of you, something about you, that he doesn't know. No, Will wants to know everything about you, from the moles on your body to your most embarrassing childhood moments.

Don't hide anything from him because he will find out and he will be upset that you "hid" it.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Will has this whole empathy thing going on, so he knows what you're going through, what you're feeling. He knows you're scared, and even though it hurts, he understands.

He'll try to be as patient as possible with you, giving you space and trying to make you comfortable with your new life with him. He'll do whatever he can to help you adjust to your new life.

Will knows how to be patient, after all, he's a good fisherman.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you die, Will is going to kill himself. It's that simple. He can't bear the thought of living without you, of never being able to see your smile, hear your voice, smell your scent again... He can't and he won't. He will follow you even in death.

If you leave him, if you manage to escape, Will won't stop at nothing to find you. He will turn the whole world upside down looking for you until he finds you. Nothing can stop him from looking for you, and once he finds you, Will is going to be sure that you will never be able to escape again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Yes, Will feels guilty about kidnapping you. It was a carefully thought-out act, but one he felt was necessary. The world is becoming more and more dangerous, and he can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt or, God forbid, dying.

But he will never let you go. As his overprotectiveness increases, you will find yourself further and further away from freedom. Will can’t let you leave, not when it’s so dangerous outside.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Will has been alone for most, if not all, of his life. Although he has grown accustomed to being alone, that doesn't mean he likes it.

He has always wanted someone to fill the void he felt inside himself and that void was filled when he met you. You were what he had been searching for his entire life and he knew he had to have you.

You are his salvation.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Will hates it when you cry, and even more so if it's his fault. He'll try to comfort and calm you as much as possible, holding your shaking body against his, stroking your head while whispering that everything will be okay, that he's here and that he's not going anywhere.

He doesn't like it when you yell at him. It hurts his ears and he'll calmly tell you to stop, but if you don't, he might have to lock you in your room until you do.

Will will give you your space (as much as he can) if you want to be alone for a while, but he won't like it if you isolate yourself and he'll have to do something about it. Probably by standing next to you like a statue, making sure you don't try to do something stupid.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Will is softer in his approach to you if you are nice to him. However, if you are mean to him, Will is going to become mean to you as well.

He wants you to be happy with him and will do everything he can to make that happen, but if you don't cooperate, he will simply stop trying and become colder and even cruel to you at times.

The way he treats you depends on the way you treat him.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Will is not so easily manipulated, so you won't be able to manipulate him to run away. He can see through your intentions and will be sullen about it.

His biggest weakness is you, ironically. If something happens to you, Will is going to definitely lose what little sanity he has left. You could get very sick or seriously injured and get him to take you to a hospital, because Will won't let you die, and you can try to get help but it will be difficult, not with him glued to your side like your own personal guard dog. But if he catches you doing that, he will never trust you again.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No. Will would never lift a finger to hurt you. He might do it unconsciously, but he will definitely feel guilty and apologize.

He can't stand the sight of bruises on your beautiful skin.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Will adores you completely.

You are his personal deity. And he, as your servant, exists only to worship and protect you completely.

Will would go to any extreme for you. There is nothing this man wouldn't do for you, just love him back and you will have anything you desire.

Will wants to be loved by you, accepted for who he is, and if you give him that, he will be over the moon.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

A few months at most.

Will is careful when planning things and kidnapping you takes time, disappearing with you without leaving any possible evidence or suspicions about him.

So you would have a few months of freedom until he decides it is time to take you for himself.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Maybe, but not on purpose.

Will is already broken and he knows how horrible it feels, so he wouldn't want to do the same to you.

He loves who you are and wouldn't want you to change, to become a shell of what you once were. If Will did end up breaking you, it would be unintentional and he would try his best to try to "fix" you again.

[coffeegnomee]

I feel like Ls!pangi doesn’t get talked about a lot like tr!pangi and I see analysis of other Lifestealers(mostly zam) and pangi just feels like a side piece for character development and want to see some love to ls!pangi

So Pangi on lifesteal doesn't get involved in the lore for like 90% of the time he is online. He used to a hell of a lot more back in s4, but around s5 he really started to hit his stride with his silly, more laid back video style. And in s6 he well full-out on making silly videos because he wanted to publish a video every single week from the start of the season to the end of the year. And in order to make people feel comfortable coming to his recordings, he became a pacifist and did not enter into the lore unless he found it absolutely necessary.

So that's the backstory on why people don't really write about ls!pangi. There just isn't that much to write about. And he isn't active, spending a lot of time on the realm (which is great).

He joked to Flame on the last session (saturday) that on lifesteal he is the weakest player, but on the realm he is the strongest. And that makes him approach the realm so completely differently.

That being said, his pacifism has strangely endeared himself to Flame, who generally hates pacifists but also loves Pangi's silly videos and wants to make sure Pangi can record. He went out of his way to help with the warden situation when mapicc dropped a bunch of wardens on Pangi's Christmas set, he helped stop the fire on the Christmas tree when Mane burnt it down and reprimanded Mane for being too much of a menace, and he is borrowing Pangi hearts (from his own secret backup in-case-i-get-banned-off-the-server-and-need-hearts stash) so all the chunguses involved in his Hunger Games will have 10 hearts.

Charmander duo is amazing and pangi's origin story with the lore is one of my favorite times of ls!pangi

In the early days of the season Flame decided to blow up spawn and Pangi decided to take it upon himself to talk to Flame, give him pseudo-therapy which turned into a really good mutual-understanding session that genuinely transformed Flame's mindset towards blowing up spawn more. He had Flame build a house and was incredibly supportive as Flame reluctantly approached building, and gently encouraged him to think about how much care people put into builds and how much pride you can have in your own accomplishments in building.

Flame was dead set in not playing along. Dead set in not getting any attachments to this house. Determined to say none of it mattered.

Pangi says he will blow up the house, to see what Flame really thinks. Flame gets really sad and asks him not to, and eventually Pangi relents giving the obvious analogy that clearly Flame care about this house and would rather not see it blown up, just as they would rather not see spawn be blown up.

The next day Flame threatens and does blow up spawn because nobody shows up for the fight, but when zam goes to investigate the damages, it is no where near as bad as the first time.

A couple days later, Pangi has been trying to coordinate the server into doing the 10v1 that Flame wants, but when he logs on, Mane starts being a menace to him. Mane stops being a menace to have a convo with Flame and Pangi about the fight, and everything is set. Pangi gets Flame to promise to make sure spawn doesn't get blown up again before the fight.

Pangi leaves but soon enough wemmbu shows up as well and starts threatening to blow up mapicc's castle. Pangi tries to get Flame to see that this is his responsibility, as a teammate of wemmbu, to prevent the destruction as per their agreement. Flame is lackluster and basically taking absolutely zero responsibility for wemmbu and mane, only saying he will not blow up spawn. Wemmbu is his ally, not teammate, he insists. This isn't good enough for Pangi, but Pangi leaves saying anything more and the deal is off.

Five minutes later Flame calls him back to his house, the one they built together. Wemmbu has blown it up. He mocked Flame for having a house then destroyed it in front of him despite Flame's pleas to stop. Flame is absolutely despondent about not being able to stop wemmbu in the slightest and doesn't know what to do. Pangi can see this is a huge struggle for Flame, but still insists Flame is the only one who can do anything; he can't and the server can't. They part for the evening.

Well, low and behold, mapicc was not happy in the slightest that wemmbu blew up his castle (for the second or third time at this point) and he tnt minecarted the circle of fighters that Pangi got together: 6 kills in one cart. It was legendary. Best cart in lifesteal history.

With the failure of this fight, Pangi gave up trying to be involved in the lore. He did what he could. Flame also more or less let go of the spawn battle, waiting a few weeks for a session and arriving with 1000 dogs and just killing whoever was around.

This was an Amazing series of Pangi lore, honestly one of my favorite couple of streams of the season. Watching Pangi genuinely approach the lore without great seriousness, actually using all of his brain to come up with ways to convince Flame and Mane and Wemmbu to stop, dealing with being helpless but pushing though despite it all because he believed Flame had a good heart. It was amazing pangi lore.

It was also in August. (8/25 to 8/29)

So.

Not too recent.

[op-dumpstertruck]

Could we hear more about your thoughts on the Vinsmokes + Emotionless!Sanji?? :O It sounds super interesting!!!!

Ahh, I hope I manage to not make it too confusing!

I think the whole topic is really interesting - it has a lot of nature vs. nurture, but also a lot of neuroscience, if you think deeper about it. Like! Emotions are a very important part of our limbic system, which we need to initiate action, we need emotional input for our hippocampus to create lasting memories, emotions are very important for survival (hunger, tiredness, thirst, pain) - like you could have a super solider without all that, but it would be either a pretty useless one, or one that dies quickly! And for the Vinsmokes - we see them concerned, we see them laugh, Sanjis brothers definitely enjoy beating him up as a kid, they don't have empathy, but they are clearly not emotionless, I don't buy it!

For Sanji now I imagine that he is cut off from it all, emotion wise. Like he gets a glimpse of what's on the surface, but he doesn't really have access to what he's feeling - but that doesn't make him cruel (at least not in a purposeful way, he will say some things that are tactless and painful) it just makes him numb. And even if he doesn't feel much of it right now, intellectually he knows that he loves his children and knows he would be upset if he ever mistreated them, so he's just going through the motions. The bits of love that he can express and squeeze out of himself will definitely go in the direction of the kids. (But he needs someone spelling out things for him or approaching him, rather than the other way around.)

[newkatzkafe2023]

HOW 'BOUT A WUKONG X READER WHO IS BASICALLY HARU FROM BEASTARS, SHE'S A CUTE PRETTY BUNNY WHO STRUGGLES WITH BULLYING/INFERIORITY ISSUES DUE TO THE FACT THAT SHE'S A MISUNDERSTOOD STRONG GIRL( EITHER SHE'S SEEN AS A WHORE BY WOMEN OR AS A TOY TO PROTECT BY MEN WICH IS SOMETHING SHE HATES)

I never watched beastars, but I like her character especially when she stuck to muzuchi 😈

(Lmk Wukong) You guys have something very special between the two of you. Wukong loves and respects your honesty and truth to yourself more than anyone, especially when he himself has to deal with judgment. You never hesitate to stand up for him as much as you stand up for yourself, and he never says anything about your past sexual nature. All of that is your business, but what he loves the most is your bravery and kindness. Their were times when you protected Mk and stood up to the celestials about the harbinger of chaos bullsh*t, and that was something Wukong could never get over. Overall, Wukong loves you and hopes you never stop being true to yourself.

(MKR Wukong) Oh my gosh, you guys would be perfect together, Wukong loves how you can clearly defend yourself. Though he would only step in when your in physical danger, which shocked you. Wukong doesn't Patronize you or treat you like a toy, you are his wife and queen and he respects your strength and bravery. You didn't know how to feel for once but you appreciate it especially when your short-tempers tend to go hand in hand.

(NR Wukong) He loves how true you are to yourself very similar to himself, you both don't care for others opinions. Wukong love how unapologetic you are and kind to everyone, you carefree nature that help Li and Su open up right away to you. You enjoy all your conversations and outings you do together, even getting Wukong to join you. You are honest to a fault and you even stood up for Li whenever Ao Bing would try to bully Him. You wouldn't hesitate to support and help them, and Wukong loved you for it.

(HIB Wukong) You both have somethings in common, you both don't take sh*t for anyone. Though you also keep each other at w distance when you both started dating but for different reasons. He had absolutely no opinion on your promiscuity because that's both the past and your business, and with that you saw a that Wukong was a good match for you. You love Luier and Silly girl too as your child like traits join together in joy.

(Netflix Wukong) When you both met Wukong was immediately tookin back by how kind and carefree you were to him. You also don't hesitate to stand up for him and Lin as people would judge or bully them, your kindness never ending. Though you would be tell the truth to Wukong about how you feel about, his recklessness or impulsive Decision making. However not in a tone of judgment but in a way that shows how worried you are about him. Wukong ever since he met Lin, that he would have someone else care about him like that.

(BMW Wukong) Now this is kinda tricky to explain, Wukong respects your honesty and bravery but he still feels that you need to be protected. Not because of your size or status but because he has alot of enemies that will hurt you physically. Wukong loves your emotional strength and bravery, joining him. He also laughs whenever you talk back to the big bad Celestials, but anyway you both will always have each other's backs.

(Destined one) You guys are a dream team together, the brain and brawn duo. The Destined one you felt like you can easily open up to as he seems to have a slow reaction time. Though the Destined one does get worried about you, as your bravery against enemies bigger than you two combined as your protection over your husband overrides your fear. I also feel the Destined one shares your bluntness and resilience as you both won't see the point of lying to yourselves, and it can be humorous, by the way. You're still taller than Bajie as though.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🐇

[lemotmo]

💙💙💙 love love love. Please tell me you were the mutual she asked??

Q. I know we're all excited about 911 finally going there with Eddie and Buck but what do you think are actual realistic ways they can do that? In your opinion what's a believable way the show can give Eddie his oh moment? What's a realistic show way they can have their confession to one another? I cannot seem to settle on what I think are truly realistic expectations.

A. Full disclosure I struggled answering this, lol. Not because I couldn't think of ways the show could accomplish both of these things but because every scenario I came up with felt too fanfic. I mentioned it to my friend and he agreed basically saying I've clearly been reading too much fanfic, haha. But then I mentioned it to a mutual, and she said something that should have been obvious to me but truly didn't even occur to me. She said it's been 7 years in the making there's not really anything they can do at this point that hasn't happened in fanfic already. She's absolutely correct. I don't think 'realistic' expectations are necessary. Personally I like the idea of Eddie's OH moment occurring while he's in Texas with Buck nowhere around. On a momentary side note, I'm stunned by the number of people who truly don't think Eddie will go to Texas because I absolutely believe he's going and I think he'll be there for at least a couple of episodes. There are things Eddie needs to do in Texas. Conversations and forward movement between him and Christopher, that movement cannot happen off screen or over zoom. They have to film it. The audience has to see it. Eddie also needs to confront his parents on some level. At some point the show has to have characters be held accountable and face deserved consequences for their canon behavior. Completely ignoring Gerard's and Tommy's past problematic behavior in favor of quick and easy write-offs cannot be repeated with the Diaz parents. Eddie has earned that confrontation and frankly his character needs it in order for him to fully move forward.

Okay back to your question, my apologies for the sidetracked thought. The show was clearly mirroring season 5 to some degree in 8a. I see that continuing in 8b at least in some capacity. They cannot just do another shooting arc for Eddie so having him return to Texas, which is absolutely a regression for him, is another way to tear him down to the studs emotionally and mentally without physically tearing him apart again. I think most of us believe he's over corrected his Kim mistake by allowing Christopher to run away to Texas and avoid things instead of dealing with things, but it makes character sense for Eddie that he would allow Chris to do that. Most parents would tell their kid that they can be mad at them from home but Eddie didn't do that. He let Christopher decide for himself what he wanted to do. He gave Christopher the voice and choice his parents never gave him. Eddie's parents never asked him what he wanted or how he felt about anything. His opinions, his feelings and his own wishes were never given consideration when he was growing up. He was told what to do, when to do it and how to do it. Eddie doesn't know how to want things for himself. He doesn't know how to ask for them. He really doesn't even know who he fully is as a person. He has spent his entire life reacting to what life threw at him. He's never had many choices for himself. His parents, the church, fatherhood at a young age, military and then the fire academy. Eddie reacts to orders and circumstances. He doesn't make choices. The one choice he made for himself was choosing to move to L.A. Having him 'move' back to Texas means undoing the one choice Eddie has ever made for himself. It's the perfect way to get him to his OH moment. Dealing with his parents and the reminder of how he's never been good enough for them. The conversations he and Chris will need to have in order to mend what Eddie never meant to damage (there is an entire argument to be made that Kim is really the villain here because Eddie never invited her to his home and never asked her to act like Shannon but that's a separate post). Doing all of that without the constant comforting, reassuring presence of Buck will probably be eye opening for Eddie. Buck is the one person in his life who is always on his side. Buck always has his back. I like the idea of Eddie just being emotionally exhausted and realizing he would give anything to just be able to talk Buck in that moment because Buck would make him feel better just by being there. I don't think it would require much else for Eddie to get there at that point. A little montage or moment of Eddie realizing all the times he has actively chosen Buck, without even knowing it, and all the times Buck has been there for Eddie without him even needing to ask him. Eddie's moment coming like that seems fitting for him. I also like the idea of Buck having a little spiral once he realizes the full extent of his feelings but Eddie having a moment of relief when he realizes his feelings. A deep exhale of a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding his entire life. A realization that without even trying they have chosen each other time and time again. A new found clarity that his past relationships never felt fully right not because something was broken in him but because he was missing this piece of information about himself. They made a family and it wasn't hard. It wasn't difficult for them. It happened so effortlessly because it's what's right and meant to be for them and him. Then Eddie having a moment of actively, and purposely choosing Buck and their life and family of 3, and the rest of the 118 by extension, in L.A. That's what I want for Eddie.

The Buck and Eddie love confession is where I'm not sure Tim would be able to resist the big dramatic moment. Eddie and Chris back in L.A. and Eddie back with the 118. Neither he or Buck have told the other how they feel yet though. I can see them being on a call and maybe one of them gets trapped and they can't get to him immediately so he believes he's going to die and maybe just starts talking into his radio needing to say it before he dies. The one on the outside immediately knows what's happening and says 'no not like this and not here. You wait until we get to you and you tell me in person'. That way the audience knows what's coming but it allows Buck and Eddie to have the actual moment and confession between just the two of them at Eddie's house. On the couch or in the kitchen. I just really want their first kiss to be in one of those spots. But the truth is, for me anyway, there's no wrong way for them to do it. There is also no way to do it that will please everyone. Whatever way they choose will be fine with me. I will be sat, I will be giddy, I will be emotional and I will be flying. Just give it to me, please.

Thank you Nonny! Much appreciated! We can all use some Buddie distraction on a truly blue Monday like this one.

First of all... Was I the person she talked to? 😋

Well yeah. 🙂‍↕️

My exact words were:

"The problem is that the slowburn has been slowburning so long now that all of the possible 'confession' and 'first kiss' scenarios have been written over and over again. So no matter what the show comes up with, it will always feel a little fanficcy because of that."

I still stand by that. No matter how they will pull this off, somewhere someone will have already written it down in a fanfic. 🤷‍♀️ Not that I would mind one single bit. This fandom has the best writers.

And I've said it before and I'll say it again: I truly don't care how they'll pull Buddie off. I'll be happy no matter what. I'll scream, cry and go a little insane though, I admit it. 🤣

I like all of Ali's ideas on how they might come to their realisations and what the confession moment might look like. I agree with so much of it.

I'm also 100% sure that Buddie IS happening and that Eddie IS going to El Paso. He'll be there for a few episodes, no doubt about it. It's like Ali said, he needs his moment to shine. And I'll love every second of it, because I truly believe that Eddie deserves his happiness, but as long as he keeps denying himself 'joy', he'll never get that happiness.

He needs to break free from the shackles of other people's expectations and only then will he be able to pursue what he truly wants: happiness and joy, no matter what it looks like. And I believe that, in Eddie's case, it looks like his son at home in LA and embracing his romantic feelings for his best friend Buck.

I can't wait for the show to come back in March. I've missed my dysfunctional found family of firefighters so much. 🤗

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[valentine-cafe]

Can i request a mango pudding? If i remember right, it was mentioned once how, if Talisen wanted to confess to a dense darling/darling who didn't think his flirting was serious, he'd get them alone and try to express his feelings clearly cause he had learnt from his past. 🥺Can we. Ah. Can we see👉👈how would that be like?

Please take care and stay hydrated ♥️

˖⁺. ﹙ the serpent grim reaper poet x dense reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . why can't you see, I do love you !! 🍒 :  poet ˖ grim reaper ˖ naga character ﹙ verse 781 talisen. ﹚

Talisen expresses to his dense darling that he truly did have feelings for them and that the flirting wasn't just mindless flirting

Footsteps thud behind you, disrupting the attention that was previously focused on the stack of books inside of your locker.

Glancing over the small metal door, you watch as a familiar poet makes his way towards you. Hair put into a long ponytail, while his face is covered in the slightest tinge of red.

“Talisen?” You hum quietly, tilting your head to the side with one eye squinted and the other remaining the way it had before.

“A moment, darling—” He calls and stands next to you, taking in a deep breath. Gods, he’s too flustered for this. It’s been a while since he’s been able to catch you upclose due to classes and his personal work outside of university.

“Could we speak? It is quite important.”

“Uh, well I was headed to class.” Your response seems to drag a small breath of frustration out of him. He was late again— He’d have to keep you around for a bit.

“Please?”

Well when he asks in such a pretty way. You do wonder what could be so important he had to drag you off. Maybe it was another secret spot he’d found in the schoolgrounds. When was this man not out adventuring after all?

Simply shrugging, you grab your bag and put your books in, turning away from him to close your locker. For a moment you almost had him convinced you were going to leave him for class again like last time. But you stayed. And he sighed, thanking you over and over again internally.

“May I?” He asks softly, reaching a hand out for your hand. You lift an eyebrow and take it, only to yelp when he tugs you to one of the quiet rooms around. Places scattered for students that are in need of rest. He made sure the room wasn’t in use before turning to you and breathing in deep one last time.

“Sssssoooo. . . is everything alright Tal?” You chuckle in confusion and shrug, looking around curiously.

“Look,” He starts, “Please look at me.”

Naturally, your eyes focus in on him, whether they look into his or somewhere else at him. Your attention is undivided. It is there, but it is confused.

“I love you,” He sighs out, his hands speaking with him. Pointing towards you and himself.

“I love you and I meant it when I said it last time, after the flirting.” You don’t get time to speak, the second you open your mouth to, he continues.

“The way you do your little dancing when you pass an exam,” Inhaling in his words, he takes a moment to process them, and allow you to do the same, before he moves on.

“the way you smile, your little gestures of affection and comfort to even when you get angry.”

“I love all parts of you. I mean it.”

You stand in silence for a while, blinking in realization.

With all honesty, you’re not sure how to react at the suddeness of the situation. It’d been nothing but silly flirting to you.

“I just need a moment.” You murmur, seating yourself in one of the nearby couches.

He keeps quiet, his breath held back deep in his lungs. It dissipates the second your response comes through.

“Why didn’t you say that at the time?”

“I had not much time to, my dear. Alas, I am a busy man, It is hard to catch you at the right times.” He sighs and hangs his head low, black tresses curtaining his face and hiding it from you.

“Well—” Exhaling, getting out of the seat, you lean against one of the desks and blink a few more times. Focus on your feet and the floor below them.

“Well, I-I. Fuck Talisen. You're throwing it all on me suddenly. I love you too. I love you a lot.”

[theallianceofcelestials]

How would the Nightmare family and SCP family react to each other?

I'm going to assume by Nightmare family, you mean the Watchful Nightmare gang. If not so, feel free to correct me!

Well in Interdimensional Mishap we see how WN!KC, WN!Bloodmoon and WN!Eclipse react to SEA!Eclipse and he to them, so I'm not gonna talk more about that, cuz I that's the one most fleshed out in my brain.

I'm gonna go down the SEA character list for this:

Eclipse

WN Sun and Moon would probably be unsure of this adult Eclipse, especially at the current stage of their relationship with their own where the little guy is suspicious and kinda hostile to them and they're incredibly unsure and irritated by some of his behaviour. They wouldn't trust SEA Eclipse, and he'd have a hard time looking at these versions of his uncles being hostile to him. The most amicable thing they'd probably end up doing for a while is mutually avoiding each other.

WN Lunar, who's basically a toddler, would absolutely love this big Eclipse, because he looks like a mix of his favourite rayed people! Even if his colouration is a bit darker, he still looks like Clipsey! So he would want to nap on him. Meanwhile SEA Eclipse is desperately trying to get the tiny version of what he thinks is his baby brother off, because he does not want to be drooled on!

WN Earth would take one look at the guy and decide he needs a friend. She'd probably be cautious, because this whole other dimension could be a ploy to get close to the children to kill them, but WN KC seems so sure he's a good 'kid', so she's willing to see where this may go. Eclipse on the other hand would be grateful for her calm and collected behaviour, sticking the closest to her.

Killcode

SEA Killcode would melt at the sight of his children as so small and young. Especially because he could never experience raising his own Eclipse, even if that'd have looked different. He'd probably happily let them hang off of him constantly, happy to be used as a playground. If any monsters came near him, he'd murder those brutally. He may have troubles leaving them for long, his instincts insisting he shouldn't leave children this small alone.

WN Killcode and him would beef, no doubt about that. They'd also be dad buds, gossiping about their kids. No inbetween. They'd each have trouble with leaving the other's children alone, though WN KC would be weirded out by the whole being the youngest of triplets thing. He doesn't really consider Sun and Moon his family yet at the point we're in the story.

WN Sun would be terrified of him, however even shaking, he'd try being friendly. Killcode would appreciate it, and he'd be nice to him seeing as that's basically a different version of his brother.

WN Moon would be hostile at first, especially when they learn these aren't really animatronics. That wouldn't sit right with him in a world full of monsters. They probably wouldn't become buddy-buddy with each other, despite Killcode's best attempts, but they'd be amiceable.

WN Earth would be a surprise for SEA Killcode, but not an unwelcome one in the end. They'd trade recipes and would end up becoming fast friends. Especially when Earth gives him advice on how to approach Eclipse's issues.

Solar Flare

Solar Flare would still show great respect towards WN Killcode, despite him being unsure about this stranger that's supposedly the child of a version of him. However because it's respectful toward him, he's nice to it too. However they wouldn't get over basic politeness. At least that's what Solar Flare thinks.

WN Bloodmoon would use it as a chew toy. Solar Flare is not amused

WN Eclipse would be something it can't really handle, despite the kid being attracted by its calm demeanor and cool looks. Clipsey would attempt to draw it into an activity, and it'd just freeze. It doesn't know how Eclipse can handle seeing a kid version of himself so well, when it freezes up.

WN Lunar is clearly too small, and needs more food in him immediately. Something shouldn't be that small. Lunar is just confused by the weird looking guy.

WN Sun and Moon would be the most hostile to it, because of how weird it looks. It in turn wouldn't trust them. To mend their relationship, they'd need a lot of time spent together to chill out.

WN Earth is nice company because she's quiet. She's a bit unsure about the weird looking not-animatronic, but she trusts what everyone else says about it, so she'll give it a chance. She's not disappointed.

Bloodmoon

WN Bloodmoon and SEA Bloodmoon would be partners in chaos. Their eldest siblings turned middle children and baby siblings energies would combine in the most chaotic manner. Though SEA Bloodmoon would probably be pretty indulgent with their younger alternative selves. They'd also try to impart some of their hard earned wisdom, with little succes most likely.

WN Killcode could just call for his own Bloodmoon and they'd be there in a heartbeat too. It's too ingrained in them to listen to their father to recognise the difference between tones and whatnot until they're already standing before a confused KC. They'd feel mostly embarrassed because of this around him. He'd be greatly amused after a while by them mistaking him for their dad.

WN Eclipse would be a really sore spot for them, because that1s a child version of their brother! One they never got to have! They'd be jelaous on their brother's part, however they would be the nicest with that kid. They'd look after the tiny, angry, rayed creature to the best of their abilities. They'd find him sweet and he'd find them weird, because what do you mean there's a Bloodmoon who's technically older than their Eclipse? He'd try to big brother them same as with his baby siblings, and they'd indulge him.

Bloodmoon would be nice with WN Sun, who'd thus like them, and a gremlin with WN Moon, who's mostly just annoyed by them. Same as with their uncles. Only they have to be more careful with them, cuz they're fragile.

They wouldn't know what to do with Earth, unfamiliar as they are with their dimension's verison of her, so they'd be mistrustful. They wouldn't feel comfortable with her, and she'd respect their wishes. They'd eventually warm up to her, but not without a hefty amount of cookie bribes.

WN Lunar would immediately steal their heart, and they'd let the tiny kid nap in their nightcap. Lunar would just be happy to have this cool pillow that moves. Whenever he clambers on top of them, they freeze like how some people do when cats climb onto them.

Lunar

Lunar would find the toddler version of himself boring. Because this tiny thing can't even do anything! WN Lunar however would want to always climb onto the fluffy cape he wears. He'd be glued to him whenever he enters the room.

WN Eclipse, just like with his brothers, would be a punch in a place he didn't even realise hurt. He'd be filled with all sorts of potential scenarios of what sorts of mischief and trouble they could have gotten into, if they had Eclipse as the eldest. But like actually as the eldest. Just them being children together, growing up in the safety of their father and uncles' shadow. Clipsey wouldn't understand what this guy's problem is, and would leave him alone.

WN Earth and Lunar would get along like a house on fire. He's just mischiveous enough to reming her of the nicer parts of life, while he also carries a wiseness with him that comes from being an ancient SCP who got trapped in a prison. She in turn would help him to truly process just what happened with them. She'd also like hugging him because of the fluffy cape.

WN Bloodmoon and him would be troublemakers together too. He'd join the Bloodmoon quartet and just indulge the child with tricks and pranks.

WN Killcode would think he's a child at first, and thus offend him. He'd spend the rest of their time together trying to make ammends while also trying not to laugh. Lunar's just sulking.

WN Sun and Moon would be weirded out by an adult version of their charge, when all they have is the toddler version. Especially because they look so starkly different. He's greatly amused in turn by their shock. He'd milk all the amusement he can get out of that.

Moon

WN Moon and Moon would be on sight violence. They both hate themselves, they're both somewhat murderous and they both have anger issues. They'd hate each other.

WN Sun and him on the other hand would sometimes awkwardly slip into the sibling dynamic. He'd be especially protective over this version of Sunny, because he's so fragile. Sun would just feel embarrassed around him for calling him his brother.

WN Eclipse would judge him quite harshly, especially based on his own knowledge of their Moon, which'd hit hard for him. Because there's the kid version of his nephew, and he apparently hates him already. It'd take a while for him to realise the kid is just suspicious of him.

WN Bloodmoon and Lunar would remind him of all the parts he hates about children. They're loud, they need loads of attention and they're so unpredictable. He doesn't know why he seems to be such a magnet for the brats, especially when he threatens to toss them in the air quite a lot whenever they're near him. Them laughing and shrieking in joy when he delivers on the threat is just giving him a headache.

WN Earth and him would be awkward around each other, and they truly wouldn't move past general politeness. They talk if they're in the same room, but they're not each other's first choice of company.

WN Killcode would be annoyed by his big brotherly behaviour, and Moon would find it amusing. They'd be little shits to each other, and KC would be shocked to notice he's been adopted as a younger brother. Moon would be greatly amused when he realises.

Sun

WN Sun and Earth and SEA Sun would be besties who talk about cats and other cute animals together while they're sewing. They'd each be gossiping about their own family, which'd result in the lot sometimes giggling while looking at someone. He'd also feel the need to guide these two young animatronics, becoming something like a mentor.

WN Moon would be shocked by a Sun who has his shit as together as SEA Sun, but ultimately happen there's at least one world where his twin seems to get the room to grow into a confident and amusing person without all the anxiety coming with almost dying everyday. He wouldn't know what to do when SEA Sun begins acting brotherly towards him. Sun on his part is just worried about this overtly tired and withdrawn Moon.

WN Killcode still wouldn't appreciate being treated like a brother. But he can't stop it. Sun and Moon have found a different dimensional version of their baby brother, and he's just so precious! They must tease him!

WN Bloodmoon would look up to him, because this Sunman is cool! Sun would just be greatly amused by the kid before him. It's like his nephew being a child all over again. Only this one's tinier and now he can take pictures.

Lunar would melt his heart and they could be often found napping together. He'd cuddle that toddler whenever. It's unstoppable. Good thing WN Lunar thinks he's a great bed

WN Eclipse would be a bittersweet sight for him. He's all too aware, just like everyone else, how his nephew never had this for himself. And the part where one could argue he was a child was spent in probably horrible circumstances. Clipsey wouldn't understand why all these people are sad because of him, and would just generally avoid Sun. He doesn't like how they're all sad when they look at him.

Welp this took a while! Hope this is actually what you wanted and I didn't misunderstand you. Feel free to correct me if I did! Sorry it took this long to answer!

[ladysharmaa]

Wild Hearts

Jasper Hale x original character

Summary: When a new girl arrives at Forks, she seems to catch Jasper Hale's attention. However, he and his family are hiding a secret. What they don't know is that Evelyn has a secret of her own

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Forks had quickly become Evelyn's favorite place. That day, the rain fell gracefully, creating small puddles of water on the ground and making the forest landscape outside the dark blonde's bedroom window even more mysterious. She hadn't explored the city much yet, but she hoped to be able to do so in the next few days.

She got a ride from Angela and Jessica to school, and the three of them had become quite close. One of the biggest reasons was that they had formed an alliance against the trio of Mike, Eric, and Tyler.

On the other hand, Alice also greeted her every day when she saw her in the hallway, and she had even seen Rosalie give her a small smile. It was somewhat surprising because Evelyn was sure that the blonde didn't like her, although Eve didn't know what she had done wrong. The one who didn't talk to her much was Jasper, even after they had gotten along when they walked to class together.

After saying goodbye to her friends, who had a different class than her, Evelyn headed to history class. The truth is that classes were a pain, not that they weren't interesting, but Evelyn couldn't pay attention for long, quickly getting lost in her thoughts. Besides, the words all got mixed up in her head, so trying to read the school books was very frustrating.

Evelyn then sat down at an empty table, resting her chin on her hand and looking around while she waited for the teacher to arrive. She entertained herself watching the other students, who were chatting animatedly since the class hadn't started yet.

However, her attention was diverted when Jasper pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, looking at her with a small smile.

"Hey, Jasper. How are you?"

"Hello, Evelyn." The vampire felt his chest tighten, and had to remind himself that he had to breathe in to maintain his disguise as a human. But Evelyn's smile, directed at him, drove him crazy. "I'm good, thank you. And you, darling?"

"I'm fine too! Really loving Forks. I'm planning on going for a walk here, maybe exploring the forest a bit."

"You should be careful, the forest can be dangerous." the boy warned worriedly. However, Evelyn couldn't answer because the teacher had finally arrived.

The subject was interesting, they were talking about the Civil War. However, and nothing new, Evelyn ended up getting distracted and missed what the professor was explaining, until she heard her name mentioned. She jumped in her chair, seeing that the whole class and the teacher were looking at her, waiting.

"Excuse me, can you repeat that?" Evelyn was sure that her face was completely red with embarrassment. Jasper, next to her, watched the situation with a frown. He didn't like feeling those feelings from his mate.

He sighed. "I asked you to read the document and tell me about the key turning points of the Civil War. Today, Miss Miller, preferably."

The girl looked at the board and her breathing quickened. As she already knew it was going to happen, although she still hoped for a miracle to happen, the words all got mixed up, preventing her from understanding what the professor wanted her to say.

The class was completely silent, watching the teacher lose his patience with the new student. "Well?" he snapped.

"I'm sorry, it's just that my dyslexia…"

Jasper was getting more and more irritated at seeing Evelyn's discomfort. Then, he leaned forward slightly, his voice low but carrying a strange, commanding weight. “The Battle of Gettysburg was the turning point for the Union. Lee's defeat ended the Confederacy's advance into the North and marked the beginning of their decline.”

The teacher raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “That's correct, but I didn't know your name was also Evelyn, Mr. Hale." Small chuckles echoed around the room. Evelyn only blushed more at this, looking at Jasper who seemed unaffected by the looks he was receiving. "But what made Gettysburg so significant?"

His Southern accent was even more noticeable as he continued. “It wasn't just the loss of troops. The morale of the Confederate Army took a hit they never recovered from. Combine that with the Union’s growing industrial advantage and—” He paused, as though catching himself. “Well, the outcome became inevitable.”

The teacher seemed slightly taken aback. “Well, that’s… very detailed, Jasper. Nice work.”

When the teacher resumed teaching, Evelyn was able to jump from her seat to hug the blond. “Thank you so much, Jasper. You didn’t have to do that. I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

“You didn’t put me in anything, Evelyn. Don’t worry about it.” Jasper tried to soothe Evelyn’s concern with his gift.

“No, I truly am sorry. It’s just that school is always so hard for me. I have… I have trouble learning.” she whispered, looking away from the vampire’s amber eyes.

“I can help you, if you want.” Anything to get closer to the girl. "I can explain the topics to you so you don't have to read anything."

"Would you mind doing that?" Eve asked hopefully. When he nodded, she straightened her back in excitement. "I really appreciate it. Thank you, Jasper. You're very sweet."

If Jasper were human, he was sure he would be blushing by now. After so many years alone, he had finally found his mate. She was so much better than any version of her he had ever imagined. Her beauty, both internal and external, the way she was so easy to make blush, her confidence. She was simply perfect. And he was a monster who didn’t deserve her.

He should leave her alone, he knew that. She couldn’t be with someone like him. But it was so hard resisting their bond. He didn’t know if that would ever be possible, for now, he was simply enjoying the moment.

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Evelyn was standing by the lockers with Jessica and Angela, Jessica telling them about the latest school gossip. Evelyn wasn't the biggest fan of gossip, because since she didn't want anyone to get involved in her life, she didn't want anyone else's either.

A group entering the school caught her attention. It was the Cullens, talking quietly, but apparently a little angrily, among themselves. Edward looked at her, his eyes frustrated for some reason. Alice, following her brother's line of sight, waved at Evelyn and motioned for her to come over.

"Sorry, I'm just going to say hello to Alice. You can tell me the rest at lunch, Jessica." she said, starting to take a step toward the Cullens, but Jessica's voice stopped her.

"You're going to say hello to Alice Cullen?" Jessica shrieked. Evelyn looked at her with wide eyes, nodding slowly. "How did you manage to talk to them? Since the moment they arrived, they haven't spoken to anyone!"

"I'm sure you're exaggerating, Jessica. They're all very nice." The dark blonde replied, and without giving Jessica time to continue, she walked towards the vampire family. "Good morning."

She received a greeting from everyone, and a smile from Jasper that made her heart race. His pained expression lessened as Evelyn approached.

She didn't know how it was possible to know him for such a short time and feel such a strong connection with him. As if she wanted to spend every second of the day with him. It was a very strange feeling.

Emmett and Lucas exchanged a smile when they saw his brother completely in love with the girl. He looked like a puppy, all that was missing was wagging his tail when he saw his owner.

Alice, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend and brother's antics, crossed her arms with Evelyn's and started walking down the hallway. Rosalie stood on the other side of Evelyn, her face a little more serious.

"I love your outfit, Rosalie. You have to tell me where you got that sweater." Evelyn complimented sincerely.

"Thanks." The blonde smiled at Evelyn, also crossing her arm with the girl's. She really wasn't that bad, even though she was human. And her scent was so calming to be near, it made you forget about the tempting blood of other people.

The boys, who were left behind, opened their mouths in shock when they saw the vampire's action. Emmett kept hitting Jasper's arm, and if he wasn't a vampire, he would have been thrown back. But Jasper didn't even feel Emmett's hand, his gaze fixed on his mate. She managed to win everyone's hearts.

"Oh!" Alice gave a small excited squeal. "We have to go shopping together! How about today?"

"Sure! It should be fun. I haven't had much time to get to know the city yet."

"Why?" Rosalie asked curiously.

"I've been working at a dinner nearby." Evelyn informed. "And it takes up a lot of my time, especially since I have to study afterwards."

"Well, today we'll take you to Seattle to do some shopping! Shall we meet at the school entrance after lunch?" Alice suggested, receiving confirmation from the other two.

With a wave, they went their separate ways to their classes.

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As she had expected, her day with the two Cullens had been one of Evelyn's best days in Forks so far. They had gone through all the stores in the mall, and even after Evelyn bought a scarf, Rosalie and Alice had insisted on buying her a warm coat. After much insistence, Evelyn finally agreed. The two had also bought some things for themselves and left the store when it was already dark, all holding huge bags.

Rose and Eve laughed at a joke Alice had made, the three of them having become very close friends that afternoon. On their way to the car, they saw the rest of the Cullen siblings, except for Edward. Jasper, Emmett, and Lucas were leaning against a black Volvo, arms crossed over their chests and waiting for the girls. The two vampires hurried to get to their boyfriends, while Evelyn followed a little behind with a big smile. She felt so happy. She had met so many people who were already so important to her in such a short time.

Jasper walked over to her, offering to carry the bags. Evelyn handed them to him, watching him put them in the trunk of his car. "You girls had fun?"

"So much fun! We have to do it again!" Alice exclaimed. Evelyn giggled, and Jasper was sure it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. It sounded like an angel singing, he would do anything to hear Evelyn giggle again.

"Well, maybe we'll go in my car and Jasper can drive Evelyn home." Rosalie said, the other agreeing. After saying goodbye with a hug to both Rosalie and Alice, Eve got in Jasper's car.

The two of them were silent, but it was comforting. Music blared through the car as Jasper drove, his attention intent on the road.

"We have a history test next week." The vampire broke the silence, glancing at the girl in the passenger seat. "If you want, I can help you study like we talked about."

"That would be great! Would you like tomorrow? I have to work, but then we could go to my place," she offered. But when Jasper didn't respond immediately, she began to ramble. "Or not. It's up to you. Whenever you want, really. I just made that suggestion, but you can say no—"

"Evelyn." He interrupted her speech with a chuckle. The way he said her name gave her chills. "Tomorrow would be fine. Your parents don't mind if I go to your house?"

"I live alone. So maybe around five o'clock?"

Jasper nodded. The two didn't speak again during the drive, both lost in their thoughts. When they arrived at Evelyn's house, Jasper gripped the steering wheel tighter. The house was quite old, and didn't seem to be in the best condition. He tried not to show on his face the emotions he felt when he saw where his mate lived. She deserved to live in a castle, not here.

He would give her anything she wanted.