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#but him holding up the title hits a little different now
pixelatedraindrops · 3 days
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RAINCODE 4KOMA COMIC PROJECT
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This is another project that I'm currently working on with @kazinsblog! We adore makoyuma and they're our number one faves.
So we decided to make a little 4koma style side special of Kazin's mini series "The Kanai Ward Case Files"
This intro is the only normal comic in this story.
Prologue: Flu season hits worldwide, and Makoto calls Yuma one day and gives him the warning. Yuma notices his congested voice so he wants to head to to Kanai Ward to check on him. But meanwhile, Yuma is trying his best to hold his cough as he talks on the line. Only to suffer the fit after Makoto hangs up. He isn't well either.
When Yuma arrives in Kanai Tower finding Makoto completely disheveled and passed out at his work desk, he ushers the stuffy CEO to bed. The two were shown pushing themselves while being sick alone. But now that they're together, these stubborn workaholics will finally rest and break from their duties in order to take care of each other.
further information below
Of course since I'm involved in this project, they're obviously not going to be doing well... XD But this story is going to be a lot more fun and lighthearted than others I have written. (It's essentially written as a silly sick filler episode of a cartoon kind of vibe) meaning less whump, and more sick comfort and hilarity. There may be a few somewhat whumpy ones here and there (I can't resist) but it won't be as common.
Full Story Summary:
This RainCode fan side story revolves around slice of life comedy 4koma style strips with scenes of Yuma and Makoto being sick together and spending time with each other in Kanai Tower for about a week. They both have different halves of cold symptoms, Yuma with throat based, and Makoto with nasal based. (hence the title) Various cute and wacky stuff happen between the two and their bond grows stronger spending this sick week together away from their duties as detective and CEO. They may be sick and miserable, but at least they're in it together! What could possibly go wrong?
The comic strips will be drawn by Kazin, but there will be some bonus art that the two of us will work on together (similar to the title which was a collab by us both)
Also, both of us agreed that these strips should be posted on my blog rather than Kazin's. Reason being is that this story is based on illness and my blog is half an illness blog so it makes more sense to share it to mine. You all likely expect this sort of thing from me at this point anyway… XD (I’m also the director so I write the descriptions of them.)
And this series will continue to be ongoing so long as Kazin and I have ideas. (we currently have almost 100 strips planned)
I will update this in separate posts whenever more strips get fully digitally drawn by Kazin whenever she can work on them. With the tag #kanaiwardcasefiles h&h. Some strips will be random, some will be two parters, and some will have a timeline or are connected to others.
We both hope you look forward to this project! There will be a lot of funny and cute moments between these two, so we hope you makoyuma enjoyers are excited!
Also bit of a fun fact: This was inspired by when my mother and I had covid late April 2024. Something similar happened to us, and we each had one cold-like symptom more than the other. So I thought of this idea!
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eccentrcks · 2 days
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gone through time ; the prelude
Chapter Title: "The Prelude" Word Count: 4k Synopsis: Nearly tortured to death and just almost at death’s doorstep when she was recuperating. Marlene regained her determination and to continue on living just to ensure that her loved ones are safe, unable to bear if they were to die on her watch. Yet thrown back in time, five decades behind, and found herself in an undesirable situation that leaves Marlene unsure if she’s able to go back home while meeting unlikely allies and enemies in beginning of her new journey. Author's Note: I might cross-post this on Ao3 and Wattpad eventually in the future. I don't know, we'll see. This is a different take than I genuinely anticipated, but my brain had been scrambling for another approach to this series and I followed my gut. Glad I did a lot of improvisations for the first part of the series. Comment to be tagged on, or removed from the taglist if you want! Have a lovely day and night. Taglist: @revnah1406, @welldonekhushi, @alypink, @littlemissclandestine, @walder-138.
“We made it, kid! Just hold on!”
“Tell my mom that… I’m sorry and I never meant what I said.”
“Oh no, no, no! NO! Marlene! MARLENE! NO! Don’t die on me!”
“If you knew it all then? Would you do it again?”
“Where am I?”
“I promise… I didn’t do it.”
“They would’ve been disappointed in you right now.”
“... Just like them to you as well…”
“Hey. You’re a goddamn survivor, kid. Just like your mama. Four times and going. No one with guts like yours could’ve done what you did. Let alone endure the ridiculous shit you’ve been put through. Think about it. You’ve lost and learnt, but it’s all about perseverance in the end.”
“I wish you were my dad...”
“Don’t do it, Marl. You don’t want to end this way.”
The consideration of ending it all had always been in her thoughts ever since losing Anthony. She was just nineteen years old at the time. Her bestest friend, her better half, her soulmate. Her breathing had hitched when she looked down from the window, placed in one of the top floors after getting liberated, with the breezy winds hitting her face.
Until the base had been attacked by an unknown group of operators who definitely knew their shit due to the lack of casualties on their side while she was getting dragged off by Phillip and covered by David with the other Shadows after they jumped out of the floor to the bottom when a grenade was thrown at them.
Lucky or not, she’d survived the impact, sprawled on the floor with the inability to pull herself together. Her breathing was so weak despite having an adrenaline rush. Marlene couldn’t even comprehend her surroundings. The helplessness was there all over again, she couldn’t help herself, or the others, to get out of the danger zone.
It felt like Marlene was slowly dying in the midst of destruction- or so she’d hoped. They didn’t want her to give up so soon, but she held no resistance for the darkness that's consuming her blurred vision. Incoherently mumbling apologies and weakly leaning on Phillip’s shoulder before getting laid down somewhere. Leaving a large amount of blood trails behind them.
They needed to leave her and she desperately pleaded for them to go, which sounded like a wheezy whisper, before she eventually fell into the deep slumber with her heartbeat decreasing by each second. She felt one of them shaking her limp form, shouting her name, and felt their anguished grief. It pained her numbed soul so much, especially when her unmoving face was buried onto someone’s neck while they cradled her in their grasp.
Marlene can’t let anyone else die on her watch. At this moment, she’d die this time for good. Even if it meant without saying properly goodbye to everyone else, although the mere thought of seeing him again to wherever he was brought some little hope to her broken self.
She imagined seeing his stupid, goofy ass dimpled smile. The beautiful light in those vibrant brown eyes that held so much life. The curls at ends of his perfectly brushed short dark hair just bouncing whilst he happily greets her. Nostalgia painfully hits her hard. Remembering she would bury her tearstained face onto his shoulder when they were together, when he was alive, inhaling his soft fragrance, and tightly clinging onto her better half as if he were gonna vanish.
Anthony… I’m coming…
Then her heartbeat was beating once again. Instead of being embraced with death as expected, she was met with the feeling of a long syringe plunging deep into her thigh. Monotonous and disembodied voices were heard with machineries whirring.
Someone mumbled something about her vitals becoming more steady now and got off their knees to walk off after getting called over to assist the others. It sounded like they needed her alive more than dead, otherwise she wouldn’t be slowly waking back up right now.
Her breathing slowly went from shallow to normal, or at least close to what normal as it gets, as Marlene felt like she was laid onto the cold floor, her limbs sprawled, with the ability to move around slowly coming back to her. Regaining and stabilizing her senses too.
Groaning softly and her eyes fluttering open just to see herself in the garage of the overruned base. Largely spacious with crates scattered all over and a group of numerous operators moving around to activate some sort of device. Barely noticing her regaining consciousness and busied with whatever they were doing.
Marlene’s fingers twitched as she struggled to push herself off the floor with a soft grunt. Leaning against a nearby crate after managing to crawl on all fours, without making a single sound, so she can hide behind one of them.
What the hell happened? Why aren't I dead? Why am I still alive? These thoughts ran through her distorted mind as the young woman readjusted her brown jacket over her shaky form and peered over her shoulder to search for a way out.
Unable to understand why and how she is still alive, Marlene knew better than to sit around and wait before something bad happened to her, so her instincts were telling her to evade and think later when it's safe. Just like her mom always says.
Marlene quickly picked at the corner of the crate and yanked some of it, without getting any splinters, although she did chipped a couple nails and didn’t really care about it, to make a handmade weapon. It was the size of her hand, but it was more than alright. Using her nails to make a sharp end and inspected it in her hand after she was done.
Perfect.
Thankfully no one noticed her disappearance and she peeked over to see most of them were still busy. Marlene grunted under her breath when she quietly walked around the shadows while crouching, despite her injuries aching badly, before stopping behind a black bronco.
“Detonation will be ready in five and we have the target subdued,” She hears one of them announce to the radio. “Do you copy? Over.”
The radio cackled in response before another voice was heard. “Copy. We’ll be there in three. We lost visual contact on the other targets, but it doesn't matter, we got the girl. So we’ll be there with the commander. Over.” Someone monotonously answered.
“Copy that. Over.”
Then Marlene noticed one of the operators that was keeping guard, far away from the group, walking towards her area. They wandered closer to her range before pausing in mid-step after hearing a little rustling sound.
Stepping closer to the source of the sound, they cautiously peeked over the hood of the bronco and saw nobody there at all. Straightening up and just stood there for less than a minute before they shrugged it off.
“Huh…” They shook their head, assuming they were just hearing things, or maybe it was a rat, and turned around just to have a wooden weapon shoved right in their jugular and slicing across the throat as they gagged and choked hard before Marlene quietly laid them on the floor so no sound was made.
Breathing heavily as she let them bleed to death before yanking their weapon off them. Heckler & Koch KH94A3. Checking the safety and ammunition. Safety on and magazine full, just what I actually need, thank fuck. She also unstrapped their knife, holstering it at the back of her jeans, before limping off in a crouching position still.
Whatever they injected in me with… I’m not completely immobile compared to before… She considered just leaving before her situation could get any worse, but then they’ll just come after her- or worse, after the ones who she cares about too. I don’t know if they made it out or not…
Marlene decided to take a stand and not yield to these assholes. Hurrying to the other side after hiding and disposing of the body, she mustered whatever strength induced into her, and regained through one's will, they weren’t gonna get away with this. Her morality bar got low a long time ago anyways, she isn’t opposed to taking down whoever is responsible for attacking them.
Mom would do the same thing… She thought grimly before cocking the weapon in her hands.
One of them went to check on her before realizing that she wasn’t laying there unconscious anymore as Marlene rushed up to the unfortunate soul and shoved the end of her weapon below their chin and pulled the trigger.
The gunshot startled the others as blood and clumps of brain splattered on her clothes down to the floor. She couldn’t care less and began creating carnage among them with whatever energy she had left.
Using the crates and unignited vehicles for cover, they didn’t last much due to their weapons and group of numbers, occasionally grabbing onto one of them to use as a meatshield before blowing their head off and dumping them aside, as Marlene didn’t waste a single bullet.
Taking the dead ones discarded guns with the magazines to replace her current empty one. Heckler & Koch MP7A2. Quietly crawling fast underneath an obstacle to sneak up behind another to stab the back of their right calf before using her submachine gun to take them down.
“She’s over there!” One of them shouted to their teammates- which ended with a few bullets through their visor of the helmet, dropping dead as she sprinted, her bad leg making her stumble a little, as Marlene tackled an unsuspecting operator from behind and plunged the knife through the back of their neck. Twisting it roughly before pulling it out. Snatching a flash grenade from the vest and tossing it over with a clicking sound towards a group of seven.
“Goddamnit!” One of them snapped in frustration while removing his helmet, carelessly dropping it aside on the ground, to rub his eyes so he could try to recover from the temporary blindness. “Don’t kill her! We need the target alive!” Squinting and looking around for her whereabouts. She wasn’t nowhere to be seen, much to his displeasure.
Until the sound of an engine being ignited, headlights getting flashed upon them, caught him off guard once most of them were rammed by a bronco. Dropping almost like dominoes and most of them succumbed from the impact.
“... I should’ve known why we were selected for this operation.” The incapacitated operator groaned in discomfort and slowly rolled to his side to try to stand back up on his feet. Just hearing the vehicle’s door opening and slammed shut with the sound of staggering footsteps coming towards him. He looked up at her, seeing the gun barrel aimed at his face, as his target just stared down at him apathetically. No remorse for her actions. He actually has a good amount of respect for that.
Her mother raised a killing machine for sure… He internally commented to himself.
“Before I blow your brains out from your skull. All I wanna know is… Why?” Marlene asked with her hand trembling a bit. Looking down at him, he is a caucasian male seemingly in his late-twenties, short messy dirty blonde hair, grayish blue eyes, and looked like shit from what she just did to him not too long ago.
He remained unresponsive just for a minute before giving her a serious look. “We’re just following orders here, kid. This was just bound to happen sooner or later.” The operator gave a cryptic response instead of a direct one.
This answer barely made her happy at all. This just irritated her and she wanted nothing more than to tear his throat apart with a bullet through his skull. Marlene bit the tip of her tongue in frustration and looked aside to see some sort of heavy looking device, but what caught her attention was that it had a timer on it.
Fifty-nine seconds left.
It looked like it could take the entire building down with that amount of explosives on it. Someone clearly wanted to get rid of any evidence of this attack on this base. Although she was quite unfamiliar with a blue glowy, bioluminescent-looking substance inside some glass tubes tied between wires and whatever you’d need for a bomb.
Shit… Marlene blinked owlishly and turned her head to look down at the man.
As if reading her mind, the nameless man just gave her a blank stare in return. “There’s no point. You won’t be able to disarm it – even if you tried.” He grunted when she kicked him right on the sternum before dropping back down onto his back on the floor when he tried getting up.
“I’d ask who the hell are you, or who are you working for, but I'm not gonna waste anymore of my precious time when you clearly aren’t gonna give me straight answers.” Marlene said coldly and just turned around right after shooting his left thigh and right ankle, he screamed and writhed in pain, as she pushed herself towards the exit. “You can just die here for all I care…” She mumbled under her breath.
I need to make sure they’re still alive… I can’t live with myself if something happens to them… not again… I can’t go through this again...
Just before Marlene can reach for the door handles, it suddenly bursts open, making her stagger backwards slightly, as she is met with an intimidating, masked and heavily armed individual who raises their gloved fist and swiftly pounded it against her face.
Her mouth opened in a silent shriek from the sudden punch as she fell on her backside onto the floor. Ignoring the pain coming from her face. Hastily pushing herself back up with a grunt, looking back up to see her attacker marching towards her, whipping out some sort of electric baton from their thigh holster.
Marlene shouted in pain when they managed to lunge forward to swing the weapon and hit right onto her gut. Almost stumbling on her feet like a newborn fawn, she turned and began running around the garage to avoid the hits while trying to steady her breath at the same time.
“I literally don’t have time for this bullshit!” She can already feel the adrenaline leaving her. This wasn’t good at all. Marlene needed to get the hell out before this place imploded in less than a minute. Unable to think properly while getting chased, she simply found a barrel filled with gasoline ahead of herself, raising her weapon to shoot at it just in time, running past it as being pursued at the same time.
Getting ungracefully flung forward onto the floor, with her attacker flailing to the side, roughly landing against the wall and crates. Their weight crushed them as they laid limp in the pile, meanwhile Marlene sighed in exhaustion against the cold floor, unbothered by the heat against her backside, and pushed herself off the floor to on her knees.
Barely able to fully stabilize herself in a short span of time. Marlene felt her wrist getting toughly tugged by the same operator she’d just incapacitated not too long ago. He yanked her closer and slapped some sort of device, or whatever weird looking watch it was, onto her wrist. She winced when the sharp feeling pierced into her flesh. Recoiling away as the young woman felt like writhing right there when the device triggered something within her.
A gasp slipped from her lips once the device imploded. Flashes of a blinding whitish, bluish hues filled her vision as it felt like gravity became nonexistent.
Then everything became black.
-
It was all bright and everything happened so fast. She could barely comprehend and wondered if she was actually dead this time, or somewhat survived, because this was getting ridiculous for her.
Marlene felt the left side of her face just numbingly cold and wet. It’s snow, she’d know the feeling. Breezy winds hitting the exposed side of her face as she softly groans, slowly pushing herself up, and those brown eyes fluttering open just to see she was in the middle of nowhere.
She felt fine- which shouldn’t be fine. Marlene was painfully aware that she wasn’t born normal like other people, her mom had tended to constantly remind her that since she was young girl, but this hasn’t happened to her once before.
However her head was throbbing real bad with the nauseous feeling hitting her. She couldn’t barely recall the last time she’d felt this whiplashed. Now Marlene could barely recall the entire event that just happened before literally landing here. It’s like recalling bits of scenes of a broken film or something.
And Marlene wasn’t entirely sure if her attire would keep her warm long enough to seek refuge. Her brown jacket wouldn’t be enough against the snow just as her blue hoodie underneath it.
“Whatever, at least I’m not half naked.” She muttered to herself and dragged herself through the thick snow. “I can keep whatever is left of my dignity.” Snorting in disbelief to herself after saying that.
“I need to wait this weather out somewhere warm in the meantime. Something tells me that I’m definitely not in Alaska or Wisconsin.” Marlene sighed, slightly annoyed due to her circumstances, and trudged along into the blizzard. Her boots weren’t suited for winter as well. She can already feel the snow going into them.
The temperature was bringing back some bad foggy memories and she was just glad that nobody was pouring steaming hot water on her at the same time.
~
Marlene shivered and her teeth chattered, wrists twitching against the leather binds, as she was barely able to recover from the bucket of cold water with ice in them getting poured right on her before the bucket of hot water after that.
Dissociation was her friend in this moment as she zoned out while muting out their voices.
Biting onto her tongue and cheek from the inside of her mouth to prevent herself from screaming when the process was repeated. Soon pneumonia would catch up to her if they don’t use the blowtorch on her later.
“Bluebird, tree frog, ladybug… bluebird, tree frog, ladybug…” Marlene kept repeating those words under her hoarse breath and rocked herself at the same time. It helps her pass the time, soon she’ll be back in her claustrophobically small cell, and a few hours of peace will be granted to her before they bring her back out of there again.
~
How long can this go? It felt longer than ten minutes since she’d been walking in this cold hellhole. Huffing and almost wheezing as Marlene pushed her legs forward while rubbing her arms. On the bright side… At least this isn’t the desert where I could've passed out from a deadly heat stroke by now… She tried to be optimistic about this, really, she did.
The device on her wrist wasn’t helping either.
Something sharp that felt like needles was digging deep into her wrist whenever she tried to yank at it, or make an attempt to take it off, but her attempts were futile for now as it remained on her. Chopping her hand off wasn’t an option.
“Bluebird, tree frog, ladybug, bluebird, tree frog, ladybug, bluebird, tree frog, ladybug…” Marlene repeated and continued on as pausing in mid step once she heard sounds of a helicopter, or more than one, above her. “Oh, I don’t like that.” She muttered and shook her head before increasing the pace throughout the thick snow.
Something caught her eye from the right above as a figure moved through the trees with such speed. Barely able to react and just kept going faster so she could find some civilization with someplace warm to recuperate for the meantime.
Hearing someone yell from the distance with some gunfire as it lasted for about a minute before it abruptly stopped. Quite unsettling for her, but Marlene had to keep her cool, no pun intended, and decided to check it out by changing her direction.
Snow got lower and easier for her to move around. Hopping once Marlene got onto the solid ground and practically jogged towards the source of noise until she ungracefully slipped on the unnoticed ice beneath her, grunting in pain when she landed on her bad side, and went to get back up before stopping when droplets of blood dropped next her to hand.
“Huh?” Looking up and almost slipping again once Marlene immediately noticed a dangling corpse, what appears to be a soviet uniform, or what's left of the body, hanging from a tree with a black wire wrapped around their mangled neck. Her breathing stopped there for a moment.
“What in the- oh, what the actual fucking hell!” Cursing when realizing the blood was getting on her clothes and hastily got back on her feet. Messily wiping it off her sleeve and regulating her breathing pattern before a panic attack hits her.
Furrowing her eyebrows and inspecting the mess noticing the necessities, which is a pistol with ammunition, a few grenades, and a small medkit onto the body. Marlene thought about this for a minute and due to her condition being on the thread right now, her moral compass was completely gray at this very point.
… This is so wrong, but I’m gonna need those… Sighing to herself and reluctantly grabbed a long branch after looking around for a second and began climbing onto the nearby tree with ease. Then jumping onto the same branch that held onto the hanging body, her body ached, but ignored it, she began hitting the pistol off. It took some hits for the weapon to fall off as it landed on the ground.
Letting go of the branch and landing on her feet, well, onto her knees due to staggering slightly. She reached down for the weapon and checked if it was full, which it was, before looking back up to aim for the wire after turning the safety off.
It dropped once she shot it loose as Marlene looked around cautiously before kneeling down next to the corpse to take what she needed. “I’m sorry…” Mumbling under her breath and standing back up right after just looting a dead body.
Somebody would've done the same if they were in my position…
Grimacing when the blood continued flowing and the red liquid almost surrounded the body in the snow. Then Marlene made a move on and kept a wary eye over her shoulder just after that, knowing she likely wasn’t alone out here. It wasn’t safe for anyone like her to be roaming around in the snowy woods.
Jesus… How long will it take for me to get to a nearby town? Marlene was sure enough that she might have to take camp for the night sooner than later or else a wild animal will have her for dinner.
“It would be un-bear-able for me if I got wolf-ed down… heh…” She chuckled dryly to herself for making such a wildlife joke, it was good in her personal opinion, when nobody else was around to hear it.
“Bluebird, tree frog, ladybug, bluebird, tree frog, ladybug, bluebird, tree frog, ladybug…” Marlene continued with the mantra and climbed over a log, wincing with everything in her entire body and began to ache again, as she was mentally and physically overwhelmed.
It wasn’t long before she crumbled down onto the ground with a pained sound. One of the most painful headaches pounded at her head as well. The gun slipped from her shivering hands, she could barely move a limp without feeling like she was back in that dark hole again, getting tortured all over, and it only hurt more when she tried moving.
Tears swelled up in those brown eyes as she eventually stopped writhing with her breathing becoming shallow and black dots blocking her blurred vision.
The last thing that she heard was snow crunching nearby with branches moving as a pair of boots stood in front of her limp form.
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99hook · 10 months
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brb crying again
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omgeto · 8 months
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☆ THRILL (h)ER! — SATOSUGU X READER
summary: when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?
wc: 3.3k (its alll smut guys so give me a medal)
cw: double penetration, praising, slight degradation, gojo and geto bickering, fingering, dirty talk (?) and some fun loving you're their pretty little princess. afab!reader, MDNI
an: guys look I finally posted a fic for kinktober, yay me, I hope you like it since Id say the smut on this one hits different sooo give it a chance. also only big brains will understand the fic title.
KINKTOBER M.LIST.
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your best friends, gojo and geto always have a way of making you feel right at home, especially when you find yourself in your favourite spot on the couch – sandwiched between them. geto's embrace is a gentle yet possessive one, his arms wrapped around you in a tender hold that radiates warmth, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your lower back.
to your side, gojo's long limbs seamlessly entwine with yours. your legs stretch over to meet him, creating an intimate tangle of limbs. his fingers trail leisurely up and down your thighs, their teasing caresses sending delightful shivers through your body. it's a familiar and electric sensation that's become an unspoken language among the three of you—one that hasn’t fully been enacted upon… yet.
"i don't know why you insist we watch this movie every year," geto complains, his gaze locked onto his b est friend, a playful frustration in his tone. "you're so predictable."
"oh, don't be a bore," gojo retorts, matching geto's glare before shifting his attention down to you. his voice is laced with mischief as he speaks to you. "you find it fun, don't you?" 
“what? do i like crappy slashers from the 80s with big titted damsels running from a shitly costumed killer?” you deadpan, your sarcasm evident. you could feel the vibration from geto as he lowly chuckles. gojo’s face forms a pout that prompts you to quickly add, “but i love them.”
gojo’s pout transforms into a triumphant grin as your admission earns you a playful nudge from him. “that’s my girl,” he exclaims, giving your thigh an excited rub as he turns on the movie.
geto, still chuckling softly, leans in closer. “well, i suppose if toru enjoys it, we can endure it one more time.” his words carry a hint of tenderness, his arm around you tightening ever so slightly, puling you closer into his embrace.                                                                            
you watch the movie in a comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the tv and gojo's oddly placed screams that you've come to expect every year. his over-the-top reactions to jump scares and gruesome scenes never fail to amuse you, and it's a source of endless entertainment for both you and geto.
geto, on the other hand, watches the movie with a more stoic expression, occasionally shaking his head at the implausible plot twists and unrealistic gore. His hand continues to rest on your thigh, his fingers now tracing soothing patterns as if to counterbalance the tension on the screen.
as the movie progresses, you notice how both gojo and geto steal glances at you when they think you're not looking, as their innocent touches progress into heavy petting. but there's a moment where you all pause, their movements stop, and you all look at each other as the loud sounds of exaggerated moans blare from the screen.
“i always forget this scene is in there,” gojo lies, with a snicker, an appreciative smile forming on his face as he watches the scene.gojo's arm remains draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm, while geto's touch has grown increasingly intimate, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.
“oh don’t bullshit satoru,” geto accuses, taking his hand off of you for a second to send a jab into gojo’s side, “i know you’re getting off on watching this ditzy blonde getting laid.”
“not true,” gojo retorts childishly, “i think there’s better sights to get off on, isn’t that right?” he finishes casting his eyes, not so subtly, over to you.
“well i can’t lie and say the sights aren’t… appealing,” geto grins his hands coming back on you, toying with the hem of your shirt.
“you two are such guys,” you laugh, trying to remain nonchalant even though on the inside the pace of your heart was quickening, and every touch of their fingers sends jolts straight to your core. “you’re focusing on the wrong things here.”
“and what should we be focusing on here?” geto murmurs at you, you couldn’t see his face but you knew a smirk was plastered across it. his challenge hangs in the air as you pause, hesitating as you scan the room, your eyes meeting gojo’s trying to gauge if they are thinking what you are. geto can sense your hesitation as he feels your breathing still as you lean against him, so he pulls his finger under your chin turning your head to face him. “let us focus on you, come here.”
you lean in, his lips enclosing on yours in a deep kiss, you turn your body almost straddling him so you could get better access. his tongue enters your mouth, as his hands work down your body, and as the kiss intensifies, you’re aware of gojo’s gaze on you. you extend an inviting hand toward him, flashing him a smile as you pull away from geto and set your lips on your other friend.
gojo groans as your lips work with his, and his hands go straight into his pants, fisting his dick that has been hard all night just at the sight of you. geto cascades kisses down your neck as he starts to pull your shirt up off of you, you gasp at the feeling of both of their hands and lips all over you.
“h-how long have you two been planning this one then, huh?” you grin, a laugh escaping through your moans, as you let geto get rid of your shirt, assisting gojo with taking off your pants. 
“how long have we known you?” geto responds rhetorically, and gojo nod in agreement, as they both take off their jogging bottoms, leaving you all sitting on the couch in your underwear. there is no more hesitation, or uncertainty between you three—you all know exactly what you want.
“so who gets to have me first?” you joke, your eyes darting between the two of them, their lustful eyes are unmistakable as they stare at your body, their dicks straining against their boxers ready to be suffocated by your tight pussy.
“i get to!” gojo sputters out quickly, but he’s not as swift as geto who’s already pulled you back onto him, his fingers pushing into you without any warning. your mouth parts, as you let out a whine, as his long digits give your pussy fast, relentless strokes, he adds another finger, smirking as your body buckles against his. “hey no fair!” gojo pouts, side eyeing geto, but he can’t help biting his lip as he hears your cunt squelch everytime his best friend shoves his fingers into it.
“don’t worry, ‘toru,” geto reassures, his fingers curling up into you before he pulls it out swiftly, spreading your pussy apart and giving gojo a knowing look, “there’s room for the both of us.”
gojo eagerly drives his fingers into you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he charges your fingers into you. your moans increase as you feel a flurry of digits explore your pussy, gojo’s hand grips on his shoulder and geto hand holds your waist as they both tug your body back and forth in an attempt to get you closer to them.
“s-shit” you cry out, as you clench around their fingers, trying to keep them inside of you. you grind down against both of their fingers, your whimpers encouraging them to twist and push their fingers deeper into you.
“you see how much of a mess she gets for us?” geto asks gojo with a low chuckle, and gojo nods, smiling as the wetness of your pussy allows for his fingers to slide into you with ease, “press down on her clit. hard.”
“don’t tell me what to do,” gojo mutters, but he does it anyway. his thumb going straight to your clit, pushing down on it, smirking as you groan your back arching right into him. 
“see i told you,” geto chimes, laughing as gojo glares at him. geto’s focus shifts to you, as he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth, he holds your chin, placing his thumb on your bottom lip as he raises his eyebrows at you for permission. you nod lazily, opening your mouth, accepting two of his fingers —which are drenched in your juices. “‘toru, you gonna finish her off for me.”
gojo smirks, his fingers working in overdrive, as he adds another digit inside of you and you could feel yourself about to release. geto can tell you're close from the way you bite down on his fingers. “you close? you gonna cum on satoru’s fingers as you taste yourself?”
you couldn’t even respond, as your cum sprays all over gojo’s fingers and geto’s stomach. the boys both smirk at each other, as they hear your high pitched moans and see heaps of your cum spilling out of your pussy running down your thighs. gojo is in awe, his fingers still remain in you and he pushes them up lazily, trying to keep you plugged with your cum. you relax onto his fingers, letting him do as he pleases, as you try and catch your breath your body slumping onto geto’s.
“you did so well,” geto praises in his air, lifting up your head off your chest, pecking your lips softly. “you took both of our fingers letting us stretch your tight pussy, it felt good didn’t it?” 
“y-yeah it felt so good sugu,” you sigh, turning your head to face gojo, as you pull him closer into you, “you both felt so good.”
“you wanna let us stuff you further?” gojo questions eagerly, his hard dick resting on your ass, as rocks against you.
“satoru,” geto reprimands, shaking his head at his friends over excitement. but gojo shoots him a look shrugging as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, practically inhaling you.
“but suguru, she wants us both to stuff her,” he argues, as fingers already go back to your sobbing cunt. “you want that dont you?” he whispers, directly in your ear, slowly coaxing your pussy with soft strokes as he murmurs in your ear. “you want me and sugu to shove our dicks right up your pussy, together.”
“i don’t know if i can…” you hesitate, your voice faltering, but you pull your lip between your teeth, closing your eyes as you think about taking both of them.
“c’mon pretty girl,” geto persuades you, forcing you to open your eyes and look at the teasing smirk on your face, “don’t think we don’t know how slutty you can be. you know your greedy little cunt take both of us with ease, and you want it to, don't you?” you nod your head slowly in agreement, but geto shakes his, “no, we need to hear you say it. use your words. tell us what you want.”
“i want your dicks to stuff my pussy,” you admit, feeling your confidence grow as the smirk on geto’s face widens and you can hear gojo lowly growl in your ear. “i need it.”
“well we have to give our girl what she wants, right sugu?” gojo taunts, pulling you off of gojo and onto his lap, his dick slaps against your pussy. “suguru got to see your pretty face, before, so this time you’re all mine, okay?” gojo says to you, and you could hear geto kiss his teeth, but he obliges letting gojo have his way this time. 
“you ready for me?” gojo asks, waiting for your approval as he lifts you up slightly over his dick, he even looks over to geto he leans back against the couch, with his dick in his hand. you don’t even answer gojo, sliding down onto gojo as you moan together.
geto fists his dick at the sight, “go on satoru, fuck her,” he orders, his strokes increasing as he watches as gojo begin to thrust into you. your hands press down on gojo’s shoulder’s as you start to bounce on him, you lean forward whining straight in his ear, causing him fuck you harder.
gojo plays with your bra strap, pulling it and letting it release against your shoulder, “i don’t know why you’ve still got this on,” he complains, as brings his hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it. your tits bounce as he pulls off your bra, and both boys smile at the sight. gojo’s fingers pull against both of your nipples, twisting and pulling at them causing you to cry at every tug. “so sensitive,” he mutters to himself, touching your tits inquisitively as he continues to toy with them, loving how with every touch your cries grow louder.
“it’s crazy how we stretched you so well earlier, but your pussy is still tight as fuck,” gojo comments, his words punctuated with every thrust. “i had all my fingers inside of you already, but your cock hungry cunt just can’t seem to get enough.”
“is he fucking you good?” geto calls, feeling himself about to cum, as he rubs against his dick hard. you look over to him and smile, nodding quickly as you wrap your hands around gojos neck, clinging to him as his dick drives into you. geto stands up, coming up behind you pressing a kiss on your neck, “you need me to help get you off?”
“she doesn’t need anything from you, i’m doing just fine,” gojo mumbles, but he lets you slightly raise up off of his dick and he smirks as he feels geto join him, geto’s dick presses against gojo in excitement as they wait in anticipation for you to enclose them with your pussy. 
“don’t be nervous,” geto coos from behind you, nipping at your ear. you look at gojo and he gives you an encouraging nod, and you slide back down onto them hissing in slight pain as you feel them both enter you. “it’s okay pretty, you’re doing so so well,” geto continues to reassure you, pressing soothing kisses down your neck, his lips sucking at your flesh. you all pause as you fully take them both in, and you feel the pain subside smiling at gojo giving him permission to move. 
geto follows suit, and you all move in tandem, fucking against each other. gojo places his hands on your ass, pushing your cheeks in pace with his movements whereas geto’s hands cup your tits, holding them firmly as he spreads his fingers over your nipples, rolling them.
“fu-fuck you two are too big, you can’t” you whine, clawing against gojo’s chest. they were both drilling into you relentlessly, you couldn’t catch your breath as every second you were being double stuffed with dick. tears spring to your eyes, as you cry out in pleasure, grinding down against them trying to get as much as them as possible. 
“if only you could see how slutty our girl looks,” gojo says to geto, as he watches your head fall back, another moan escaping your lips. “her eyes are all glossed over, she’s fucking crying, all slutted out on our dicks right now.”
“is that so?” geto mutters, he forces himself into you deeper, his back hitching up against yours, his clench on your tits tightening as he inches himself in your pussy, his hips slapping against you. “she’s such a good slut, i knew she’d be able to take us well, and look she’s loving it, already creaming all over us, isn’t that baby?”
you nod, your hand coming up to hold geto’s head as he nestles into your neck. you were losing your train of thought, you wanted to tell them how good they felt, how their dicks rubbing against each other in you was all you needed for the rest of you life, but when you open your mouth all that can leave your lips is incoherent words and moans. 
both of them smile, watching as you come undone on their dicks. gojo gives geto a nod, and their hands trade places. gojos fingers coming back to your tits, rubbing and pushing them apart before lowering his head to your chest, nuzzling your boobs. gojo and geto were so close that some things between them didn’t need to be spoken, and they were so close to you that they knew your body in and out. they knew when to push and pull, and where to suck just to get you cumming their lap.
“i’m s-so close, i’m gonna cu—” you try and speak out, but your mind is too far gone for you to finish. their dicks slip out of you as your bounces become sloppy, the pleasure too much for you but geto forces you back muttering reassurance in your neck. and the sudden contact causes you to cum, you release all over both them, but they don’t stop their movements, their dicks driving into you still, pushing back in all the cum you were letting out.
“satoru, we gonna give our girl one final stuffing?” geto prompts, and gojo nods, they both give you one final push and you could feel your pussy stretch as their cum sprays your walls. you wail out, the tears streaming your face as your body jerks forward, feeling their dicks go limp inside of you as you all pant in pleasure.
“that was fucking amazing,” gojo praises, a blissful smile on his face as he leans back his head resting on his arms. you return his smile, your lips meeting his in a quick kiss, that he groans at as you pull away. you come off his dick slowly, all of your eyes staring at the ropes of cum that immediately spill out of your pussy as he unplugs you. 
geto turns your head to face him, his dick still lodged deeply inside of you, he pulls you into a long kiss, his mouth smothering yours. he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, roughly biting down on it before releasing you, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to stare up at him “you’re mine, my pretty slutty mess.”
“um she’s ours,” gojo chimes in, but geto shrugs, not caring to listen to your other friend. geto, finally pulls you off his dick, and your pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the feeling of their dicks.
“you too always know to take good care of me,” you exhale, exhausted your pussy sore about being stretched open by the two of them. geto pulls you back into his original hold, leaning back against his chest, and your legs stretch over gojo’s lap. but this time instead of innocent gentle touches, geto’s hands lazily tug at your nipples, and gojo caresses your naked thighs, his fingers flicking at your clit every now and again.
“that’s what friends are for,” geto muses, pressing his lips against your cheek before saying, “now satoru, are you gonna press play on this shitty movie or what?”
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AN: ight so there you have it my FIRST FIC of kinktober, what do you guys think I need to hear all your thoughts since Ooooof this took me so long to write. so I hope it is worth it. also if you see my bias towards geto during this then LOOK AWAY, im sorry gojo stans but im a geto lover foreverrr. but yeahhh lmk ur thoughts stay tuned for my other kink tober fics which WILL be on time I promise smooches.
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the-witheredroses · 6 months
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Oscar Isaac Characters Eating You Out
Minors DNI
Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Anselm Vogelweide, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia x afab!reader (Pronouns and descriptions aren’t used for the reader)
CW: SMUT (did you look at the title?), pet names, slight size difference, fingering, face riding, mention of periods, slapping, toys, anal, dub-con, sub and dom roles, squirting, overstim/crying, untranslated Spanish, and possibly some other things (All are just brief mentions)
These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best. Not proofread or heavily edited.
(Lmk if you want more in the future)
Miguel O’Hara - Across the Spiderverse
Miguel is a tired man, always overworking himself with the Spider Society. All because he’s extremely thorough, never leaving something to be completed at a later date. Because of this, it’s not often he gets the chance to destress.
So, when it comes time to pleasure, he’s just as thorough. Miguel makes sure you feel just as much pleasure as he does.
Of course, because of his lack of free time, Miguel doesn’t care where or when it happens, he’s eating you out.
You’re in his office? Bend over.
You’re on your period? I guess he’s not beating the vampire allegations.
Pick a time or a place, he’s there, willing to thoroughly please you in whatever way he can.
Miguel is on his knees with your legs over his shoulders. His claws gently pricking at the soft of your thighs as he holds you still.
If you squirm too much, he is glaring at you from overtop your heat, pinning you in place with one of his massive hands.
His tongue runs laps in your cunt, teasing your clit and slurping you up. He’s eating you like a starved man, letting out small growls every now and again.
Miguel will refuse to touch himself until you’ve climaxed multiple times. He has the stamina to keep going for hours, and this is just a warm up for him. Besides, he’d rather see either of your pretty lips wrapped around his length over his hand.
When you’re a trembling, sopping mess underneath him, he’ll finally stop. His lower face is shiny as he licks his lips and hungrily smirks at you.
“Don’t think this is over, mi amor. This is just the beginning…”
Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley - Moon Knight
Marc wants you to feel as much pleasure as possible, because while he denies it, a part of him is a people pleaser. He always puts his partners above himself, including during intimate moments.
Marc is experienced and he will take the time to know what you like. Marc practically memorizes your body and what gets you riled up. But if he has the choice, he has you on your knees as he eats you out from behind.
Marc has you bent over as his tongue hits that perfect spot, causing you to tremble and moan in pleasure.
He loves seeing you grasp the sheets as you bury your face in your pillow, to him it’s a sign of validation, evidence that he’s making you feel good.
His hands grab at your thighs and ass as he goes to town. If he feels you try to pull away, he’ll swat your rear until you stay still.
When his mouth starts to ache, Marc will pull up and insert his fingers instead. He’ll move them in the way that has your toes curling and has muffled screams coming from your pillow.
Of course though, he finishes the job with his mouth back on you, drinking up every ounce you give him. He’ll lick his lips clean and kiss your cunt in praise.
“You did so good for me, darling…”
Steven is the most insecure of the boys. He never had the chance to date before, so he’s always worried about making you feel good. He especially worries when he hears how Marc talks about your guys' time together. Steven wants to make you feel just as good.
But Steven isn’t as affirmative as Marc or Jake.
Steven will keep you on your back, his hands feeling his favorite parts of your body. He loves to caress you.
Steven likes to be thorough but also to go slow. He wants you to feel every little moment he makes.
His tongue hits the spots you love, but it’s methodical, careful.
Steven pleasures you as though you could fall apart if he were to be too rough. But if you grind your hips or grab his hair, he’ll go a bit faster.
He lets you have control, his goal is to make you feel good, so why wouldn’t he listen to you?
Despite being focused on you, Steven won’t hesitate to make himself feel good too. Whether it’s with his hand or just humping at the mattress in front of him.
He definitely gets pussy drunk, babbling as dines on you.
“So pretty… so pretty…”
Jake, on the other hand, prefers to be a bit risky.
As much as he loves private moments with you (like the other boys), the thrill of getting caught makes it more exciting for him.
He’ll absolutely eat you out in his car or in an empty alleyway. All because you dressed up pretty for him or gave him that perfect smile of yours.
Jake likes to be quick but efficient with you, at least in public.
Jake sinks to his knees and pushes you against the brick wall. His hand stays on your stomach, making sure you don’t scramble from his grasp.
He’d start slow, intentionally making you panic about getting caught, but as he gets quicker, you become a moaning mess above him.
Jake will smirk as he makes quick work of you, making you finish quicker than you thought possible.
“Tan perfecta/o, mi vida… tan perfecta/o para mí…”
All of them love you so much, so sometimes after a hard day, they’ll each take turns making you feel good.
Steven most likely starts, being that he’s the most gentle. He’s a good warm up and he’s good for calming down without actually stopping. But with the other guys there too, he definitely is being a bit more aggressive to keep up.
Marc and Jake will take their turns, teasing and riling you up. Just between those two alone, your position is constantly changing, there’s no chance you’re getting sore from being stuck in one place.
Each of the boys will make sure you feel good, prioritizing you above all else. They even monitor each other through the many mirrors littered throughout the apartment. They just want their darling to feel good <3
Each will take their time, only stopping when you’re an overstimulated, crying mess.
Soft kisses and cuddling definitely ensue afterwards.
“Our beautiful darling…”
Basil Stitt - Lightningface
Basil, the pathetic, desperate, possessive loner. He will do anything for your attention. He will follow your every order. You don’t even have to touch him, he’ll cum just from eating you out. He loves you that much.
Basil is aggressive as he eats you out, desperate to make you finish. Because if you finish, you’ll stay, despite his scars.
He moans and whimpers more than you do as you pull him deeper into your cunt. His hands grapple at every curve of your body, desperate to make sure you’re real, that you want him.
Why would anyone want a monster like him? Even his own girlfriend cheated on him before his accident happened.
As he tastes you, he desperately chases your climax.
He needs you to feel good. He needs you.
When your legs tense around his head and you start praising him, he starts crying and finishes as well, his seed staining the floor below him.
His head falls against your inner thigh as his tears fall fast. He grabs at you harshly, his fear causing his chest to ache.
“Imsosorry… staywithmeplease…”
Anselm Vogelweide - Big Gold Brick
Anselm is a weirdo, a big horny weirdo, let’s get that out of the way.
Anselm will touch you and do whatever he wants whenever he wants. This kinky switch of a man will eat you out in any way possible, and it’s never simple.
Per his request, he lies tied up with you over him. His arms are completely restrained as he lets you control the situation.
Your glittering heat flutters as he blows on you, smirking at every little reaction you have. He loves your noises, especially when you’re loud.
Eventually you sit on his face, and groaning happily, he licks up into you.
Your hips rock back and forth on his face, his nose hitting your throbbing clit harshly. You’re breathing heavily as Anselm eats you up, his beard scratching the back of your legs as your hips move.
Despite being such an odd man, he absolutely knows what he’s doing, like— he’s extremely talented with his tongue alone. With every squirm and noise you make, he’s watching you like a hawk.
Your high builds and comes crashing down quickly. But when you start to move off, he harshly demands you get back.
“We aren’t done yet, doll. If you don’t get back on, I’ll kill myself.”
Blue Jones - Sucker Punch
Blue doesn’t eat you out for your pleasure, no- it’s to prove a point.
He owns you, just like he owns all the people working for his club. And because he owns you, he has to make sure you know how good only he can make you.
You were in the dressing room when he approached you, his eyes hungrily scanning your body.
Whether out of fear or attraction, you do everything he asks. So when he asks you to strip bare, you do exactly that.
With his head between your thighs, it’s hard to remember that this man could kill you without a second thought. He’s just too talented with his tongue.
Running a club has its perks, including having lots of practice in making others feel good. With all this practice, this man will do anything to make you squirt. He sees it as a sign of victory, that his toy likes him the best.
Your back is arching as Blue hits your sweet spot. Your hips lightly hump his face and nose, chasing your high. His hands grip your legs, letting you ride his face more and more.
You squirt all over his face, causing him to hum in approval.
When you finish, he licks a stripe through your arousal. Blue’s eyes meet yours.
“Bunny, do you act like such a desperate whore with all the clients?”
Poe Dameron - Star Wars
Lover of the sky, Poe is known for being quite flirty. With the constant travel, Poe has had his share of hookups and romantic partners.
Which is why, of course, Poe would do anything to make you feel as much pleasure as possible.
He’s cocky, sure, but when he brags about how loud he makes you scream, you know it’s the truth.
After a long day of travel, Poe is clinging to your cunt.
As his tongue runs laps through your folds, you tightly grip at his curls.
He’s already made you finish at least twice, and he’s desperate for another.
Your cunt is trembling from overstimulation, broken moans escaping your lips as you lazily try to pull him away.
With every faint tug of his hair, he pulls your body closer towards his mouth, not letting you escape.
His tongue circles your clit like a dehydrated man, wanting you to release and give every drop of yourself to him again and again.
When Poe gets you to release over his tongue once more, he doesn’t back off, speaking as he licks every drop.
“Just one more… Can you handle one more for me, baby?”
Nathan Bateman - Ex Machina
Nathan doesn’t eat you out normally, he much prefers using his fingers if he has to.
This man prefers making himself feel good above all else, he only tolerates making you feel good. Which is why he always makes you finish quickly or sometimes not at all, moving on to make sure he can get his pleasure from this exchange.
The only time he has eaten you out was when he walked in on you having a wet dream, mumbling his name as your legs spread under the blankets.
You wake up moaning loudly, Nathan tucked between your thighs, mouth to your aching core.
As he hits your sweet spot, you instinctively grab his head. His buzzed hair provides nothing to grip to as your hips sleepily grinds his face.
Everything feels extra sensitive and good, the lack of previous priority making you extra needy.
His beard provides a scratchy and satisfying feeling as his tongue laps up your soaked folds.
He doesn’t even acknowledge that you’ve awoken, now on a mission to make you finish on his mouth.
His hands grope at your waist and ass, gripping at all the soft flesh he can.
When you finish with trembling legs, he lifts his head, his beard glistening in your juices. His hand palms over his cock as he sits on his knees and stares down at you.
“Get up. It’s my turn.”
Duke Leto Atreides - Dune
Leto is a very busy man, but he does worship you when he gets the chance.
Constantly being needed by everyone, it feels nice to relax and give himself to the one person he wants to: you.
Sure, sometimes you’re under the table servicing him, but it’s not often he gets the chance to do the same for you.
He’s on his knees, worshiping your pussy like it is a divine god. Leto is praying to you with his tongue.
Leto is so focused on you, he can’t even acknowledge his own pleasure before he knows you’ve had some release.
He has to give his baby some extra care while he has the chance <3
His hands touch every inch that he can, worshiping all of you that he can.
Leto’s nose bumps your clit as he watches you like prey, he just loves your blissed out expression.
When you two make eye contact, he makes his assault that much more pleasurable. Whether that’s adding in his fingers or reaching deep into you with his tongue. Man loves his eye contact.
When you climax, he’s smiling and peppering kisses over your inner thighs.
“I still have time, shall we go for another?”
Prince John - Robin Hood (2010)
John is a man of pleasure, and he will devour you as long as he gets some in return. Just… never mention your ex or past relationships, he gets jealous.
He loves different positions and experimenting with you, as long as you’re both having fun or a good time, then he’s more than happy.
John, the whiny man, is begging into your cunt as you two eat each other up.
Your mouth is wrapped around his length as he laps up your warmth.
With each stroke of your tongue, he moves his in tandem. Every moan you gain from him, wonderfully rumbles your pussy.
His hands grasp and pull your ass cheeks, kneading the soft flesh.
John eats you like a starved man, because despite his regal status, you are by far the best meal he’s eaten.
At least that’s what he’d be saying if it weren’t the end to your guys night of pleasure, and John didn’t need an heir.
He probably isn’t the most thrilled to be eating his and your cum out of your pussy, but it's you, so he can’t complain.
Together, you finish and clean each other of every last drop, leaving both of you exhausted.
John pats his shoulder.
“Come, rest your head.”
Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Triple Frontier
Santiago loves to tease you. No matter the situation or place, he will edge you until you’re crying.
He likes seeing you as a whimpering mess, begging for some relief.
You were just on the cusp of finishing when Santiago pulled away, watching as you begged him to let you cum.
He’d chuckle and hold your hands hostage, not letting you get the chance to finish what he started.
As you start to come down from your high, he’d go back in, licking and eating your cunt out.
As you squirm, chasing your release, he’d cage your legs in place with his arms and hands. You’re not allowed to escape him or his constant teasing.
When he finally lets you finish, you’re a trembling mess, your hole clutching at his tongue as he eats every last drop.
“You’re so cute like this… maybe I should go again?”
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Thanks for reading!
Lmk if you want me to add more of his characters or do a different set of characters (like Genshin men for ex.)
3K notes · View notes
ghouljams · 5 months
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Regency AU with Price (as always the gif does not represent the reader, only the vibe)
Tags: first meetings, social faux pas, love at first sight, British imperialism mention, classism, a little period typical misogyny, Price keep your hands to yourself please
You've never deluded yourself into thinking you're marriage material, never concerned yourself with your lack of marriage prospects. The child of a doctor with no title to his name, and a midwife with even less. You're in good standing, but you know well enough that among the delicate fingers of the noble ladies, you're a sore thumb.
A captain is certainly out of reach for someone like you. You don't mind, of course, you're perfectly content to remain single and eventually take over your father's practice. Still, you do look up with the rest of the crowd when the announcement is made. Captain John Price. He's young. Too young to have made such a commission, but his eyes are old and the stern set of his brow, the tight lipped smile, speak to a man who has seen more in his short life than most men will by 80. His eyes meet yours and you look away, snap your fan open to distract yourself from the boiling heat of the greenhouse the party is being held in. That must be what makes your skin prickle.
You bemoan the fact that your friends have lost all interest in conversation in favor of tittering over the new arrival.
"Fresh from the colonies, I hear," one of your friends whispers, "he hasn't been home in a good few years."
"I heard he's going to be made a baron," your other friend whispers back.
"I hear he's rot his dick clean off from scurvy," you grumble.
"Did you now?" A voice rumbles with amusement behind you. You squeeze your eyes shut for a brief second and curse yourself before plastering on a smile and turning to face the man of the hour. You flutter your fan in front of your face and hope it looks more demure than your mouth would suggest.
He's better looking up close. His eyes sparkle, and his smile seems less forced, more open. It's the hint of teeth that break up his lips, different from the tightness he'd given upon announcement. You curtsey, as is proper when meet a man above your station, which is just about every man here. Money can buy you an invitation but not the good will other women may have.
"Captain," you have no follow up for that, so you attempt to mean it as a greeting, "I meant no harm."
His fingers tighten around yours when you try to pull them away, but he does straighten up, apparently unbothered by the surrounding crowd's murmurs. He must have hit his head and been sent home due to madness. You're sure that's the only explanation for the heat in his eyes and the smirk on his lips. A man who's lived a life of violence and still holds himself so tall shouldn't bow his head to you.
"Of course not," he holds his hand out, and like a fool you place your fingers against his. He doesn't raise your hand to his lips like so many other men, he bows to it. Bows to meet your knuckles with his lips. Bows with his arm tight behind his back and his eyes lowered. As if you were the queen, and not some doctor's daughter. Your face bursts with heat and you glance around to be sure there aren't any eyes on you.
"Please don't do that," you tell him quietly, whispering it furtively to try and stem the murmurs. His grip on your hand shifts, drops your fingers to hold your wrist.
"Perhaps you'd prefer something else?" He pulls your arm up, turns your hand over to press his lips against the thrumming pulse in your wrist, his gaze holds yours all the while. Your stomach flips pleasantly. The tips of your fingers brush against his dark hair, and you imagine you can feel it through your gloves. "A dance? Or an apology?" He kisses further past your wrist, pulling you closer, "Or perhaps I should be asking for one from you." Another kiss, just below the bend of your elbow.
Was there a crowd? You can't imagine there's anything but you and the captain? No one in the world but the two of you standing in front of each other as his lips skate the top edge of your glove. The feeling of his skin against yours is like touching the inside of an oven, a short shock that makes you want to pull away, a heat that lingers long after the touch is gone. Have you ever wanted to put your hand in a fire so badly?
"Would you like me to apologize?" You ask him, pushing your voice out even past the breathless bubble in your chest. He closes his eyes, tips his head to run his nose against your skin with a sigh.
"Never."
It's so simple a word and yet it drops like a heavy weight into your stomach. It roots you, binds you, when his hand touches the small of your back to pull you closer you go without a second thought. Spellbound.
"God," he breathes, "I'd have come home sooner if I knew you were waitin' for me."
"You don't even know me," You smile, feeling like you've been let in on a joke only the two of you know.
"Oh sweetheart," something in his voice is cloying sweet, something in his eyes -so stormy blue you'd think he bottled the ocean tides just to see through their colored glass- that speaks to a promise you never hoped for, "I've got a lifetime to learn."
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rowanswriting · 6 months
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Dirty Little Rabbit
Perv!Eddie x Fem!Reader Smut
word-count: 992
a collab with @reidsbtch I love you mariah! 💜
a special thank you to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for coming up with the title for us, we love you dolly!
do not read if the following list triggers you, if we missed something please let us know! feedback is welcome!
warnings// cum eating, masturbation male & female, stalking, panty sniffing ((licking)), voyeurism.
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Eddie knew you could be senseless sometimes, but he really expected you not to be this stupid. The sounds of your moans carried from your bedroom window, down to where he was currently hiding in the bushes surrounding your house. This was almost a nightly occurrence, Eddie waiting to catch a glimpse of you in your bedroom window, but tonight was far different. He hadn’t even seen you, but that didn’t matter in the slightest, not when your pretty moans, including ones of his name, were drifting through the quiet night and right to his ears.
All of the sanity he had left his body, as soon as a particularly high pitched ‘Eddie’ slipped from your soft lips. He wanted to see for himself, so regardless of having a boner that was pressing against his pants so hard it ached, he decided to climb the vine up the side of your house. His body was pressed uncomfortably up against it, causing his zipper to get caught on his erection, biting back a hiss he pulled himself up just a bit higher until he could see into your room.
It took him a while to climb up so he hadn’t realized that you had already finished, your frilly panties laying against the lush carpet in front of your bed. He laughs quietly, putting his foot up onto the edge of your window before he’s quietly slipping inside. “What a dumb little bunny you are.” He murmurs, listening to the sound of the water in your shower hitting against the wall. He slowly walks over to your panties, picking them up and trying his best not to moan as he holds them up to his nose, breathing in deeply. The scent of you drives him insane, his cock somehow getting even harder than it was moments before.
A quiet ‘fuck’ slips past his lips as he quickly makes work of undoing his belt, his eyes observing the pink panties gripped in his other fist. They were soaked, he needed to taste you and he couldn’t hold back anymore, quickly licking a fat stripe up the crotch, moaning obscenely, as he pulled his thick cock out of his pants. The tip is an angry sort of red, practically weeping with pre-cum, he goes to wrap his hand around himself but not before he hears your sweet voice over the sound of the running water. He clutches the frilly material in his fist as he makes his way over to the door.
Pressing his ear against the door as another slip of his name leaves your sweet lips. Eddie groans lowly, spitting in his palm and gliding it along his length before wrapping your panties around his cock. He leans himself against the bathroom door, his eyes slipping shut as he imagines himself in the shower with you. How the water would drip down the swell of your breasts, your head tossed back as he buried his face between your thighs. God how he wished he could taste you fully, feel your thighs tremble around his head as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you.
Even then he wouldn’t be fully satisfied, not until he saw your mascara running down your pretty face. Fucked silly and writhing beneath him as he fills you full of his cum. “That’s it bunny, such a good fucking girl.” Eddie whispers, pumping his cock faster in his fist as your sounds only get louder through the door. The sound of his name on your tongue was something he’d never get tired of hearing. Especially now that he knows what it sounds like when you moan it, all breathy and soft. But he’s a greedy boy, and he wants to hear you scream it.
Between the mental image of you sprawled beneath him and your moans floating through the door he is quickly spilling into your already soaked panties. Grunting as he fills the soft material with hot ropes of his cum, continuing to stroke himself until he’s too sensitive. His chest is heaving as he hears you finish with him, knowing he doesn’t have much time before you walk through that door. He tucks himself back into his jeans, carefully setting the now ruined pair of panties on your bed. He sees a pad and a pen, a smirk gracing his features as he quickly scrawls a message down in his messy font. Panic filling his chest as he hears the water in the bathroom shut off.
He rips off the piece of paper, leaving it next to your little gift before quickly leaving out the window. Opening the bathroom door a cloud of steam follows you, wet hair dripping onto your shoulders. You don’t notice the items on your bed, as you grab out an old t-shirt and a fresh pair of panties. Dropping your towel you don’t notice Eddie still attempting to climb down from your window, the sight of you fully naked making his cock twitch in his jeans once more. You finally turn to your bed once you slip the clothing on, a look of confusion crossing your features. Knowing damn well you left those panties on the ground.
The note then catches your attention, quickly picking it up as you instantly recognize the messy handwriting. Reading over the note makes heat pool in your middle once more, your eyes darting to the pair of panties and picking them up. A soft whimper escapes you as you realize what he’s just been doing. Touching himself in your bedroom, cumming into the panties you had already made a mess in. You can’t stop yourself from opening your mouth, eagerly sucking the cum soaked fabric between your lips. Desperate to taste him, just as he had tasted you.
you left a gift for me bunny, just wanted to return the favor… (;
ps. you really should keep your window shut, some sicko could just slip right in.
-eddie
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becauseplot · 6 months
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Philza Minecraft is a survivalist. 
Everyone knows this. He's the "Hardcore guy." He's an expert in the inner-workings of the natural world. He's vigilant. He knows how to hold his own in a fight, and he knows when to cut his losses, too. He knows how to keep himself alive. By extension, he knows how to keep his team alive as well. It only makes sense that they elect him as the leader of red team.
Philza Minecraft is a team player.
This is why he's always happy to go grinding for materials when the team needs it. Even if he tends to get a little distracted sometimes, wandering too far, forgetting to check global chat or talk in the team vc, he checks in with his friends and does what he can to keep morale up when everyone is feeling down. He recognizes the ease with which Cellbit operates in this environment, so he lets the man call some of the shots, or give Phil instructions. After all, Cellbit led the Ordo for months. Phil trusts his judgement. Why not play to their strengths? 
Philza Minecraft is an adapter. 
His biome doesn’t matter, nor his circumstances, nor his equipment. He’s started over more times than he can count. Working under stress isn’t something that hinders him, nor changing environments. If the game of the day is complete the tasks, he can complete the tasks. If the game of the day is kill a player, he can kill a player. He might hate it, but he can do it. For the sake of his friends, of his team, of his kids, and of their collective survival, he can do it.
There is something else worth mentioning. 
Philza Minecraft is a liar. 
Oh, but you’ll never catch him in a lie, because it’s never what he does say. It’s what he doesn’t. It’s the details he omits. It’s the parts of the tale that he glosses over so that the bedtime story isn’t quite so scary. He’ll give you everything he wants you to have and hold the rest of it close to his chest. Or, more accurately, he'll slam it in a locked box and shove it under his bed with the rest of his monsters. 
He was an asset to the Empire. 
Back then, he always asked the right questions: not "why," but "how," and "when." Back then, he knew he was valuable, so he kept himself alive. Back then, "the Angel of Death" wasn't so much a nickname as it was a title he earned. A rank.
He never became a general. The promotion was there, and he was more than qualified, he just never took it. He was content to let his friend take the helm, because Phil knew what he was.
"Knew." "Was." Was, was, was. (Come on, now, Phil. Don't be daft.)
Philza Minecraft is a liar; the man he lies to the most is himself. Yes, Purgatory is fucked and twisted, and he hates what it forces him to do, but not because it's hard. No. Because it's far too easy.
At the end of the day, what matters most is that Philza Minecraft is an arrow. Let someone else nock him in a bow. Let someone else draw him back, point him in a direction, let him loose, soar, fly. Resources, gear, tasks, points, kills, blood---it makes no difference. Philza Minecraft won't stop until he hits his target.
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ncteez · 1 year
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The perks of being that guy (l.jh.)
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Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion. 
or the one where jihoon is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and, well, other things. 
ao3 | m.list | reblog to give woozi a lil kiss 
minors dni!! 
WORDCOUNT― 14k
PAIRING― jihoon x afab reader 
CONTENT― strangers to lovers like immediately, long fluffy hair jihoon!!!!,  you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening. 
NOTE― a present for u all because i hit a milestone of 5000 followers!! this was only supposed to be like 5k words but i guess i was in love with him this whole time. anyway, this is not proof read bc i think u guys know by now that im not about that life, so if you find a typo– don’t tell me i will delete everything out of embarrassment. 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jihoon!!!! he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship,  unprotected sex (just wrap it guys, im too lazy to write a condom scene), sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to not write smut where he wants to look directly at you, back scratches (sexual) ~
~
Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing. 
Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.
“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips. 
“I’m fine with my choice, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.
“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant…?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle it without said lube purchase. 
The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long, he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo. 
With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond.
“I think I know what I can take and I already have lube, but thanks.”
He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.
Now, despite Jihoon’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows everyone in this town’s kinks after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets and he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly. 
Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of rosy tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing. 
Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains. 
Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet, timid man who shows up with pans of food for events. 
The guests seem to love him, and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being. 
It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.
~
You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion. 
He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. Upon your eyes meeting his though, he could tell it was you simply by your furrowed brow as you recognized him. 
Jihoon couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him, because it’s very true that many people feel too vulnerable when buying those kinds of items. 
His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family. And by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to help explain  or describe what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance. 
He follows you down the line, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed though.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from. 
His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another. 
“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a grin. 
You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.
“Thanks, Jihoon. See you around.” 
You’re heading away from the table of food and now toward your saved spot at the table of family that you missed the most. Your same-age cousins, the ones you grew up with and made mud pies for your parents with during summer evenings. 
“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing to the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures. 
“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.” 
She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life. 
~
Okay so you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jihoon? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone. 
His personality seemed different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks it’s funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.
So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills. 
“How many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.
He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. Then he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down. 
“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point. 
You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not be to like about him. Unfortunately, you’re not finding much to take note of. 
“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster.” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.
You find yourself laughing at his panic though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him. 
“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes. 
He pauses, his panic easing after taking note of your easy personality and banter towards him. 
“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again. “Correction, they should be worried.” 
“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.” 
Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to discuss this at your own family reunion at least.
“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare down at it. 
“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him. 
Honestly, he might actually see you within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale. 
~
Unfortunately for you, upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. Your head slamming into the steering wheel with a sigh that’s probably loud enough for the entire town to hear.
The last thing you need is your father driving you home, because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you spent at your parent’s house? You refuse to ask yourself questions.
Just as you prepare to head back inside, taking the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.
That savior is none other than Jihoon walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise. 
“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield. 
“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”
Jihoon shakes his head apologetically. 
“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door. 
“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”
Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.
“You sure I’m too out of the way for you to do that?”
He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well. 
“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”
He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible. 
“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”
Jihoon nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.
On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock even if he hits the sack at 7pm without even cleaning up the yard. 
~
“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jihoon looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window. 
“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff. 
“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”
You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Know that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in their driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything. 
Jihoon unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. Of course it is. 
“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?” 
You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.
“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”
“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”
You stare at him. 
“Okay.”
The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about his car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.
“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.
“Ex girlfriend, i couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”
“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”
Jihoon pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question. 
“Was that too forward to ask?” 
“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”
“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”
He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does. 
“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.” 
“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”
You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.
“You’re free right now…” You comment quietly, glancing at him. 
“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.
“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”
“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.” 
You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.
“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.” 
How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening. 
“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?” 
Oh fuck, he’s right. 
“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”
He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you. 
“Where to then, y/n?” 
~
If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. Not at least without hanging out a few times. 
You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.
The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question. 
“Where to then?” 
You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him. 
“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”
“Sounds good.” 
It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot. 
“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”
“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”
A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over. 
By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote. 
“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”
“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”
“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine. 
“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”
For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it. 
“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”
He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone. 
“You know, no one buys toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.” 
“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”
He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass. 
“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”
“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”
He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase. 
“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”
“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a sex drive.”
You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip. 
“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again. 
“Wha–” You narrow your eyes. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”
“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.
“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”
“Three pocket pussies, actually.”
You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus. 
“I bet you named them.”
“Pocket 1, Butthole 1, and Jessica.”
“Jessca?!” 
He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile. 
You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too. 
You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable. 
“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.” 
You nod energetically. 
“Jesse and James.” 
“Oh my god, how did you know that?” 
You narrow your eyes again. He’s gotta be a fucking nerd to get the reference, even if everyone knows what pokemon is. 
“So the pussy is Jesse, and the asshole is James.” 
He nods slowly, acting surprised before smirking yet again. 
“Actually, I only have one but I’ve experimented with other things that come through the door. Might as well, right?”
“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”
Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him.
“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He shoots back.
“Okay, enough about my dildo, I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”
He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.
“Shoot.”
“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, so you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”
“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”
“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”
He pauses, unsure of what could be so embarrassing. 
“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a dude torso with a normal length and girth?”
Jihoon fucking snorts. How mundane. Unfortunately for you though, Nope. 
“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got women sex dolls but he’s never really even mentioned just like…a dildo attached to some sort of form that is shaped like a person.”
You shrug. 
“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”
He snorts again, this time unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more. 
“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get thigh fucked mid-orgasm.”
You glare. 
“Dude, no, because it actually hurt.”
“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your…” he pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now. 
“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”
He tries to play it off. 
“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself like that just now.”
“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, laughing along with him as you actually start to look at him.
You noticed that he was handsome before. Normally employees of shops like those are nonchalant normal people, or strange old men who try to impose their kinks onto you. Jihoon though. Jihoon. Hmm, how to explain him?
With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his wide smile and pretty eyes. He may not be the tallest man you’ve ever looked at like this but damn is he thick. Like his thighs. Damn, the thighs. Even him now  compared to him when he was catering for your family, he’s so much more handsome.
His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… You don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm. 
“You know, Jihoon,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”
His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening. 
“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”
You wave him off. 
“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second. 
“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?” 
“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”
“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”
You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.
“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed. 
“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.
“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”
He nods, looking around the room and checking the time. 
“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.” 
You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad. 
“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”
He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out. 
Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential. 
“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”
“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.
He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help that fluttering feeling in his chest.
~
It's almost midnight by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.
“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.
“What do you mean?”
He turns toward you. 
“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you. 
You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again. 
“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.
You’re taken aback by his forwardness, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite book. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it. 
“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”
He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction. 
“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.
“Oh, most definitely.”
The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.
“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance. 
“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.” 
“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.” 
“Maybe.”
“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at one in the morning and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”
He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership. 
You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange? 
“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.” 
Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.
Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically. 
“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.
“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”
“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce. 
“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”
“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”
You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges. 
“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.” 
“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?” 
He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you. 
“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for probably super normal pretend-sex.”
You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer. 
“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows. 
“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much. 
“A man.” You respond, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”
“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.” 
You snort. 
“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.” 
“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was. 
“A little bit, yeah.”
“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”
For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond. 
“I can imagine so, yeah.” 
He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together. 
“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so. 
“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink. 
He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.
“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment. 
“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.
“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other. 
“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, just hovering over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”
Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his. 
Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would. 
Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all fucking day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.
The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.
It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily. 
That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly. 
“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile. 
You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again. 
“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”
You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss. 
He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him. 
“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”
You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you. 
“Was I wrong though? Can it do this for you?” 
You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out onto the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you. 
You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes. 
“Actually, say what you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.
“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to set against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in. 
“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it was stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”
“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him. 
“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him. 
“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?” 
You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jihoon seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now. 
“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”
He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.
“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.
He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day. 
Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.
“Um.” He stops realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”
“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.
“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”
“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.” 
“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room. 
Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn to face him once he comes inside. 
“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable. 
“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change. 
You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you. 
“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table. 
He had no idea what the fuck you were referring to until he saw it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jihoon tics his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer. 
You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.
“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”
“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him. 
He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is. 
“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”
You study his expression.
“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now. 
He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys. 
“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.
He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind. 
“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”
You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually. 
“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”
You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like? 
“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”
“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”
Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.
“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?
“What should we call it?” 
“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer. 
“Oh, you fuck on the first date?” 
You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you. 
“With you? I guess I do.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you. 
“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.
“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”
“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”
“Guess I got lucky last time then.”
“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before. 
You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier. 
There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your shoulder and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky. 
Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you had your lights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died. 
It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way. 
He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing his fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his fringe hangs. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you. 
It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.
“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair. 
“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.” 
Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too. 
You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing alone your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you. 
“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too. 
You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back. 
Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks so fucking pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day at the creases of them. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension.
You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over you head.
“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you, yeah?” He laughs, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”
He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.
“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.
“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Am I not supposed to?”
Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.
“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.
“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”
You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs. 
You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude. 
“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.
“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on on hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your pussy. “No promises now, though.”
You laugh, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your laugh off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss. 
He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again. 
It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— Such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands. 
He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit. 
The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering. 
He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control. 
His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your ribs, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.
There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right there before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again. 
“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses toward you, balancing yet again on his other arm.
Before you can actually respond, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly cupping your entire pussy.
You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.
“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit. 
“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly. 
You can feel them stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good though. 
“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his playful smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers. 
“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.” 
You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want. 
Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties. 
“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally. 
“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”
He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again. 
It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?
“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”
He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you. 
“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?” 
You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.
“Do you want me to touch you?” 
You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the confidence to just tell him. 
He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bare to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure. 
You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment. 
His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing his a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.
“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him. 
There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.
That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it though, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.
He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on your fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance. 
“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.
So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them. 
You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have you legs shaking. 
Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it. 
“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want. 
He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.
Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you. 
“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster now, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now. 
He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs. 
You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–
“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”
He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.
“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs. 
He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it. 
“Take it out?” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want. 
Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off. 
You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head. 
“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.
You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering. 
“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your core. 
Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fucking fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually. 
“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.
He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides. 
“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.
You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you? 
“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist. 
He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him. 
Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check. 
You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.
When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds? 
“Jihoon,” You say, slightly out of breath. 
“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.
“Fuck me.”
It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen consistently pressing into it. He could have come from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long, but now? 
He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately. 
“Fuck,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.” 
You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.
“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already come just from having my fingers in you.”
You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.
“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.
“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”
And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your literal pussy, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy. 
It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest. 
He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.
You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, so does he. 
When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.
“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace. 
Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jihoon though, he’s in love with seeing remnants of you tomorrow.
Obsessed with the sting of it, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this. 
You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.
When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner. 
As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.
“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”
You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit. 
Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily. 
Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you go barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.
“I’m–” 
Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.
The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation. 
And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely filly. Jihoon really is something, or, someone. 
The two of you released together, and his lips fell slack just like yours did. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.
Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop. 
Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jihoon is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess. 
When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.
“We should clean up.”
~
There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work. 
He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for a day at the sex-shop. 
He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.
Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.
For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.
Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you. 
Not that you need it. (The lube.)
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mayullla · 10 months
Text
Title: Little Sunshine! (Part 2)
Characters: Mainly Akaza with Douma (/Doma) at the end! (Demon Slayer)
Summary: You were taken into the Paradise Faith cult with Kotoha (Inosuke's mother.) And Douma became rather fond of you like he did with Kotoha. When Kotoha ran away, she had no choice but to leave you behind as Douma hid the truth away from you. After becoming a demon you slept for a year and finally woke up again.
Warnings/tags: Platonic yandere, fem!child!reader, reader recently got turned into a demon and just woke up
Note: Part 1 is here!
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Akaza didn't know when or why he started to become so attached to you. When he was forced to come to Douma's cult to tell that damn demon some news about the demon slayers, he wanted to keep the time there at the minimum.
That was where he met you.
You were alone in the middle of the garden, looking everywhere, confused and tired. He thought you were a human child at first but had to take a second glance when he realized that you were a demon.
He wondered if it was a joke, a demon art of some demon that could turn into a kid. Yet when he saw your eyes, it was clear that you were not a trap made by some weak demon. You looked at him with no fear but with curiosity and wonder. An innocence that was not supposed to be in a demon yet there...
You took a step towards him when your leg suddenly lost energy and started to fall. You thought you would hit the floor, face first into the dirt, but that never happened when the collar of your sleeping robe was grabbed by the mysterious man who was once on top of the wall.
Looking up at him, you saw the man confused face, surprised at his own actions. "Thank you, mister!" You said, returning to looking down to the floor, your feet not quite reaching as you made a kicking motion.
He let you down after a pause, but before Akaza could leave, you started asking him questions. Asking if he knew where Douma was? "How do you know that guy?" Akaza asked curiously at you. You pouted at him as he didn't answer your questions. "I live here! Douma-sama had let me stay!" You told him flapping your shoulders' sleeves.
Somehow, everything clicked in an instant when he realized who you were. He suddenly remembered that long ago, Douma had asked Muzan if he could turn a small kid into a demon a year or two ago.
You were probably the child that he had turned into a demon.
Akaza snapped back into reality when he felt his pants being tugged, looking down to see you holding him, wondering why he wasn't saying anything.
"Mister, are you okay?" You asked curiously. Giving you a grunt, you took it as a sign that he was okay and smiled at him. Watching that smile, it was strange if not weird almost to see it in a demon. Most demons have malicious intent, as most have killed or done things that were morally wrong, even if they haven't by now the smell of blood should linger on their skin. Demons can't eat food anymore to survive.
They needed blood.
Yet here you were. He barely could smell any of it from you. He wondered if this was the first time this ever happened. Why were you even here, Akaza thought to himself as he unconsciously patted your head.
When you giggled, the innocent sounds made him uneasy.
"Mister, play with me!" You called out to him, raising your arms. "Up! Up!" You told him. Akaza blinked again in surprise when he saw you asking him such a thing. Never in his life after becoming a demon did someone ask him to play like this. Most human kids run away either because they already know that he was a demon or they witness him kill someone.
However, you refuse to let your hands down and continue to stare at him. He wondered if you couldn't feel it at all, the difference in rank between him and you. Most demons can't even look at him in the eyes. Yet it seems that you didn't care as you approached him again one step and then suddenly lost strength again, staggering as you thought that you would fall again.
Akaza caught you... again. Why did he do that??
Bring you up to eye level, holding you by the collar Akaza examined you as if you were some foreign alien. You looked at him again and smiled as he wondered why you are so weird?!
Reaching out to him again, you motioned that you want to get on his shoulders.
"... Fine... Just this once." Following your instructions hesitantly as he placed you on his shoulders, holding your legs as you held on his hair. You giggled as you started pointing him in directions to head to, "Go there, Mister! Go there!"
It was so awkward for him as he followed your childish demands, wondering why he was even listening to them. Walking over to trees, you touched the branches that were far too high for you to reach before and beamed at him with self-pride. "I am so tall!" You laughed.
The more the two of you played under the moonlight, the more relaxed Akaza started to become. When was the last time he played like this when he was relaxed with almost no care in the world? He smiled as you showed off to him that you were taller than him when both of you knew that he was carrying you which made you tall.
And Akaza... maybe in a way, wanted to show his powers to you. He thought it would be a fun idea really.
You gasped in surprise when he jumped, the wind on your hair, as you guys reach so high over 3-story buildings up. This was your first time seeing up so high. You shouted in awe and excitement as the both of you landed on the roof of a building. You raved on and on about how cool that was and that Akaza was amazing, with so much respect in your eyes begging him to do it again.
You don't know how long you played with Akaza, jumping higher and higher up in the sky, and you looked at the world around you under the night sky. You didn't know when you fell asleep again, a smile on your lips hugging Akaza's neck as he held you in his arms.
Akaza looked at you in wonder, wondering why you were a demon yet so amazed by what Akaza thought was normal as a demon.
But right now wasn't the time.
"You can show yourself now." Akaza didn't turn around to face Douma. He knew for a long time when the guy showed up but would rather focus on you to really care for the man.
"Ah, Akaza-donno, thank you for taking care of her. She has been sleeping for a while now and must have been so confused to wake alone like this. It is such a shame that I wasn't by her side." Douma walked towards you, his eyes on your hair, your face hidden by Akaza's neck softly snoring away, unable to notice the two demons looking at you.
"She didn't notice anything... she is weak." Akaza stated he could not smell, not even a scent of blood other than Muzan and Douma's in you. In his mind, it was obvious that Douma had been staving you for so long now.
"She has been sleeping for over a year now after her transformation to a demon. The poor little girl refused to drink blood when her senses were telling her to do so. I had an amazing meal prepared just for her, too, that time." Douma smiled, his eyes on you slowly turning to the one holding you. "Thank you for caring for her but I will take it over from her-"
Douma's hand that was reaching out for you suddenly exploded into bits and pieces, spraying blood and flesh. His eyes still smiling as he stared at Akaza showed no emotions of annoyance or anger.
But you could see a small vein on the side of his temple.
Akaza didn't want to give you back to Douma. He didn't want to give you to this sick bastard because Akaza knew that he would break you. And as a demon now, this pain can be forever. Rather than with Douma, Akaza knew you would be father better off with him.
He would not let you go, not like this.
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Note: Hope you liked it! Have a nice day guys~
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miguel-ohara-lover · 8 months
Note
Jealous/possessive ghostface!miguel x nerdy reader
😘 I have no idea but I hope this helps
I love loVE LOVE Ghostface and I hope you like this cuz the second I heard ghostface the ideas started forming and- I just hope you like it! I got a little carried away so if you want something different just send another request
!!!!READ THE CW!!!!
Ghostface!Miguel x Nerdy!f!reader
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CW: Nsfw, jealousy/possession, blood, a little con non-con, knife kink, degrading, implied stalking, fingering, p in v, too big, tears
Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as you ran through your house and out the back door. It was him, the serial killer all over the news. Fucking Ghostface. You couldn’t believe someone would take on that title and actually succeed in living up to it.
Everything about him was incredible. His voice, his mask, his hands grasping that knife- hold up! You’re seriously romanticizing the guy trying to kill you? Well, he is hot…
You shook the thought away as you continued running, trying to recall all the rules from those movies you loved so much. So much… Hey! Focus. Right, the rules.
• Never had sex, you failed that one
• Never drink or smoke
• Never run upstairs, that doesn’t really help if you’re outside…
• Never say-
“AH!” Your own scream cut off your thoughts as the strong man tackled you. You flailed and struggled against him as he pinned your wrists above your head. “Let go!” You cried out, hoping anyone would hear you. But of course like any god horror movie, your house was in the middle of nowhere.
He stayed silent as he held you down with ease. As hot as this is, you started feeling genuine fear, tears streaming down your cheeks. You managed to get a hand free and rip his mask off his face. God fucking damnit… he’s gorgeous! What are you even thinking.
The man growled as you tossed the mask aside, quickly pushing your wrist against the ground again. “Stupid bitch!” You knew that voice. You had run into him many times before. Miguel O’Hara? Was he stalking you? You did think it was weird he showed up everywhere you did… Why would he stalk you?
Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel the cool metal of his knife against your cheek. You gasped and turned your head to the side, trying to get away but it’s no use. The sharp metal nicked you, and you felt the blood trickle down your face. He gave you a sinister smirk before licking up your cheek, lapping up your blood.
“Delicious.” He growled in your ear. “Now stay still for me, Cariño.” You don’t know why, but you wanted to do what he says. That’s not true, you know exactly why. It wasn’t out of fear. It was because you were so turned on. Your pussy was so wet just from hearing his voice without that filter.
Miguel’s hands travel down your sides before he pushes the hem of your skirt up. He grabbed your soaked panties and yanked them down. You let out a gasp as the cold hair hits your exposed cunt. He smirked as his fingers spread your folds and he took in the sight of your beautiful pussy.
“This cunt is mine. Only mine, from now on.” He circled your clit, listening to your sweet moans. Two slid inside you with ease, and he started scissoring you. You gasped and moaned, his fingers felt like heaven inside you. He knew all the right spots, and a louder cry ripped from you as his thumb rubbed your swollen bundle of nerves.
Your hips buck and jolt as your stimulated so much. His fingers pumped inside you a bit more before he pulled them out. You whined in protest, then noticed that same hand working at his pants. He got them off his ease, his other hand pushing your shirt up, exposing your bare breasts to the cool night air. As he worked on freeing his erection, he traced down your chest with his knife, sliding the blade between your tits and down your torso.
It broke skin at a few points, and you could see the blood start to spill. It wasn’t enough to cause serious damage or leave scars, but it was enough to sting. His blade then moved to your tits, the tip tracing around both perked nipples teasingly. He loved watching you shiver and squirm under him. He dragged the metal on the underside of your breasts, breaking more skin. The sight made his cock throb.
Speaking of, his massive length sprung free from his pants. He was so huge, it definitely wouldn’t fit even with his half assed stretching of your cunt.
“I-it’s too big, it won’t fit.” You whined a little.
“I’ll make it fit.” Miguel growled in your ear, his leaking tip poking at your entrance. You whimpered and hesitantly spread your legs more, inviting him in. He smirked and thrusted into you without hesitation. You cried out, salty tears running down your cheeks, causing the previous slice to sting.
He was ruthless in his thrusts, ravaging your pussy with his monster of a cock. You cried out and moaned, it felt like he was splitting you open from your cunt. There was sure to be blood after… He groaned as your tight walls constricted around him, as if you could control that.
Miguel’s hands held your hips down as he continued this assault on your poor pussy, never once slowing down. You hated to admit it, but it was soooo good. You could feel that warm knot forming in your gut, only getting tighter when he picked up his pace.
You moaned whorishly as a violent orgasm ripped through you. You felt pathetic, to cum under these circumstances? You should be screaming and crying, trying to push him away. But you didn’t. You loved every inch inside you.
Your face was angelic to him, seeing your eyes roll back and hearing your moans sent him over the edge. With a final thrust he released his load, filling you up to the brim as he drained his balls inside you. That feeling was like heaven to you, making you moan more and your walls clench on his length, milking him for all he’s got.
Miguel slowly pulled out. You could see his cock, glistening in the moonlight covered in your slick and… and blood. You knew he ripped something down there. Your adrenaline didn’t allow you to feel it just yet, and without the immense pain about to come, it looked so hot.
“Are you going to call the police if I don’t kill you?” His voice broke your train of thought.
You pondered a moment. “No… no I don’t think I will…” You gave him a weak smile, the tiredness finally catching up to you.
749 notes · View notes
youunravelme · 1 year
Text
slowly, then all at once
author's note: i'm going through some shit and needed to alleviate it with fluff and also it's mat's birthday (or at least it was when i started this)! EDIT: this takes place in an alternative TATGYLB universe bc went an ENTIRELY different direction with this series (because i don't plan well lolol). (stole the title from the fault in our stars because that book had me in a CHOKEHOLD at 14)
pairing: mat barzal x reader
warnings: none? cursing?
summary: the stages of mat falling in love with you
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mat saw how you were with ella, the way you'd smile and talk to her like she could hold a conversation. or the way you never chided him or condescended to him when he did something completely stupid.
which is more than what he could say about his teammates.
so when he heard your piece of shit boyfriend screaming at you over the phone? or when he showed up unannounced and trying to "win you back?"
mat was livid.
he was sure jason had never hit you, because if there was any indication of that, mat would be all over it.
so while he's sure jason never inflicted physical harm, he saw the way you kept to yourself and even the way you looked surprised at his invitation to lunch or the game.
it broke his heart a little, to think that you'd never once considered yourself now a part of his life. when, in fact, the second you agreed to watch ella, it was like he'd pulled you into the fold.
he was on a mission to prove it to you.
inviting you to his game was the first step in his original plan.
well.
it was the first non intimidating step. (tito mentioned that maybe meeting his mom and sister after only knowing him for like a week was not the smartest move he'd ever made.)
you still looked out of your element when he asked, but he's positive that it was his own enthusiasm that convinced you to say yes.
and he thought it was a great idea! he got you and jason tickets, thinking that maybe you'd be more comfortable with having him around. and perhaps that was true at some point, but when he saw you, standing with only ella and sydney with water lining your eyes, something in his chest twisted.
you looked shaken, like someone had stuck you in a blender.
"where's jason?" was apparently the wrong thing to ask because sydney changed the subject almost immediately.
you wouldn't even look at him.
and when you told him about your piece of shit boyfriend leaving you?
mat wasn't prepared for the burning in his chest. no one got away with treating a friend of his that way, but seeing as you just avoided the topic altogether, he dropped it.
until you went upstairs to your apartment and didn't text him. tito would say he has a habit of hovering at times and maybe he never really agreed until five minutes passed without a word from you.
if you asked, he would've denied the intense concern growing in his chest. but how else was he supposed to react when you seemed so dissociated the rest of the night?
thankfully, you picked up almost immediately.
"hello?"
mat cleared his throat. "hey, you never texted me to say you got in alright. you okay?”
now it could've only been a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime before he heard your voice.
“keep the car running, i’ll be down in a few minutes.”
mat was ready to grab ella and head upstairs, car be damned.
he couldn't hear what else really happened on the phone, he only knew that you came downstairs, empty handed, and frazzled. the sight alone had him contemplating going into your apartment to figure out exactly what was going on, but he knew the best decision was take you back to his place.
he'd figured it out when jason showed up with his daughter's car seat screaming at you for wearing his clothes. screaming at you like you were somehow in the wrong, like he wasn't the one who cheated on you.
you.
who had to be the most selfless person he knew (don't tell his mom).
you.
who had readily agreed to take care of his daughter on a whim because he was insanely scared.
you.
who was one of the only topic of conversation his mother wanted to discuss. it used to just be hockey and how he was doing. now the thirty minute phone calls turned into hour and a half long facetimes where ella and you are regular topics for discussion.
mat couldn't comprehend how someone could look at you and want to tear you down, but after you officially broke up with jason? he was determined to show you how much you deserved.
exhibit a
"it's five sugars, right?" mat called over his shoulder once he heard your footsteps coming into the kitchen.
you paused in the doorway. "what?"
mat turned around, two mugs of coffee in his hands. "you like five sugars, right?"
ella sat on your hip but didn't seem to give a flying fuck that he was in front of her.
"you--you remembered?" you tilted your head. "you only made me coffee like once?"
mat's face heated up at the implication but smirked anyway. "i have a great memory!"
"could've surprised me from the amount of times you get hit."
mat shrugged, still not completely used to the idea of you watching his games, even if they were just highlights. he held the mug out to you in exchange for ella.
"you wanna come to a game again?" he offered.
you looked at him before breaking eye contact and sipping your coffee. "i don't know if that's the best idea after last time. i don't want to embarrass you again--"
"woah woah woah," mat sat his coffee mug on the island before holding a hand up at you. it didn't sit right with him to see you so ashamed of something someone else did. "what happened at the game was not your fault. it was his, okay? you weren't to blame."
"you weren't even there to see it--"
"and i don't need to, okay? i know you." he meant it. but seeing as the conversation was getting a little too heavy, he changed the subject. "just think about it! and let me know what game you want to go to."
you didn't say anything, but just gave him a small smile and nodded.
he'd count it as a win.
exhibit b
it'd been about four months since you'd started working with mat, three months since you moved in.
not that he was counting.
there were things that were harder with having you around. mainly remembering to wear a shirt when he wakes up in the morning, or to not adjust his junk until he was in the bathroom or his bedroom.
but--
there were many more things that were significantly easier (and better) with you in his life (and apartment).
sleep training ella was easy as hell
keeping an eye on ella who was walking now
the apartment actually smelled nice? not that it smelled bad before, but now it smelled like a home.
and who knew decorative pillows made a difference?
but his favorite thing recently?
grocery shopping.
he was currently pushing ella around in a shopping cart while you scrolled on your phone through the list.
"so what do we need next?" he asked.
"if you'd give me a second, i'd have the answer for you," you snipped.
by now, mat was used to your snide comments, knowing that you were just a bit quippy when you were focused.
"ella, is your nanny being a little cranky?" he joked, ignoring the glare you were shooting his way.
you rolled your eyes and tossed a bag of bread at his head that would've hit its mark had he not had the reflexes that gave him a professional hockey career.
"excuse me?" an older woman spoke up from behind him. "as cute as your little family is, can you move out of the way? you're clogging up the aisle."
mat blinked. time froze. he'd never fully considered the implications of the three of you out in public together. but being the comment of you, him, and ella being a "little family" had his heart stopping in his chest.
"oh of course!" you spoke up and grabbed mat by the arm. the feel of your touch alone had him directing his attention to the physical contact.
he looked at you instead of the woman, watched as you mumbled to ella as you pulled all three of you out of the way. his brain went on overdrive.
god he never wanted you to let go of him ever again. he would give anything to just be able to hold onto you a little longer.
and he must've been thinking for too long because you were snapping your fingers in front of his face?
"mat? you okay? did i lose you there?" you had a cute pinch between your brows and a small frown on your face.
that wouldn't do.
so he smiled and nodded. "sorry, just thinking about something."
you.
exhibit c
you went out for the night with sydney while he hung out with tito and anders. initially, you said you'd look for a sitter to cover you, but mat laughed that suggestion off.
he didn't say it, but you were no longer a nanny to him anymore. and you deserved a night off without the stress of finding a replacement. anders and marty suggested a babysitter that he hired for the night immediately.
"are you sure you don't want me to wait until she gets here? i can help explain ella's routine!" you said.
mat rolled his eyes as he herded you towards the door. "i'll be fine, go have fun!"
you let him gently push you out of the door but turned around and looked at him. "if you need me, text me."
mat smiled. "if you need me, call me."
the babysitter arrived five minutes early which meant mat could spend that time kissing ella's cheeks and reiterating her schedule to the sitter.
he was the last person at the bar, anders and tito were already sitting in a booth, each with a beer in their hands, an extra one on the table for him (he assumed).
"didn't wanna leave ella?" anders asked.
tito scoffed. "more like he didn't wanna leave mama bear." mat rolled his eyes while anders cackled in response.
"shut up, beau."
"ah! but you didn't deny it!"
mat shook his head and took a seat in the leather booth. "what's there to deny? we're roommates and she watches ella all the time. we're friends."
tito made a noise in the back of his throat. "you and i are friends, barzy. you make goo goo eyes at her when you think no one is looking."
"no i don't."
anders piped in. "you nearly ran into me on the ice because you were staring at her wearing your jersey."
"no," he defended. "ella was making a really cute face!"
anders blinked at him before rolling his eyes. "sure, barzy."
mat grumbled under his breath and chugged half his beer.
two hours or so had passed with the three of them talking shit about other teams. anders had hinted at leaving, checking his phone just to make sure grace didn't text him. mat found himself doing the same thing to make sure the babysitter hadn't said anything, or maybe to see if you had.
tito didn't seem to give two shits about his phone. and why would he? he was the only one without kids.
they were in the middle of a conversation about the upcoming devils game when mat's phone started buzzing.
sydney martin.
mat picked up the phone, albeit a bit confused. "hello?"
"mat! hey!" sydney greeted. "are you busy?"
mat glanced at tito and anders whose brows were furrowed. "no, why what's up?" his swore his heart stopped in his chest when she said your name. "is she okay? what's wrong?"
"she's a little drunk and crying and asking for you. i don't know if you're sober enough--"
"i'm sober," he said. "only had one beer." he was already reaching for his keys in his pocket. "what's she crying about?"
sydney sighed through the phone. "we saw jason and her old roommate out at the bar tonight. he made a few comments."
mat's jaw clenched. he forced words out through his teeth. "what did he say?"
"mat--"
"no, if he said some shit, sydney, i need to know."
"no," she corrected. "what you need to do is get over here and take her home."
mat was already standing. "i'm on my way."
sydney hung up.
"everything okay?" anders asked.
"probably something to do with mama bear," tito commented.
mat sighed. "she ran into her piece of shit ex and is now inconsolable. i have to go pick her up."
anders snorted. "right. 'have to.'"
mat ignored the comment and said goodbye, already rushing out of the bar to get to you.
it was another ten minutes before he saw you, standing outside a bar with sydney. he could see your tears from the car.
mat jumped out and hurried towards you. sydney all but pushed you into his arms.
and it felt like the world made sense again. you fit perfectly in his arms, against his chest, head tucked into his neck.
"mat--" you sobbed. "i--i can't--"
he kissed the top of your head. "let's get you home, okay?"
exhibit d
ella was saying actual words now like most babies her age. mat used to look at anders, marty, and other parents a little judgmentally, he'll admit, because while babies learning to do things was incredibly cool, he didn't fully understand the hype.
until she said dada for the first time.
it damn near made him cry.
and like for all of her other milestones, you were there beside him with your phone recording the moment. you almost missed it, but you had a sixth sense for those things, figuring out when ella was going to do something incredible.
that was two weeks ago and it still never got old to hear her say his name when he came home or rounded the corner.
he'd been known as mathew, mat, barzy, barzal, gary, and a slew of other names, but dada had to be his favorite. to belong to someone who needed you so wholly was the best feeling in the world.
that and seeing you smile at him.
he'd accepted it now, there was no denying it, not after half the team was on his case about his feelings for you. and how could he not fall in love with you? you were gentle and kind and handled the shittiest situations with so much grace (he wasn't joking, he'd wanted to fight jason the second you came out of your old apartment looking like you'd seen a ghost).
you handled his friends with ease, never letting tito's teasing affect you. you handled the "mama bear" nickname with ease, even laughing at it at times.
you just made his world so much better just by existing in it.
which is why he gave you the day off while he and tito took ella around the city.
ella was fine for most of the day, though she kept glancing around.
"probably looking for mama bear," tito guessed. "i would be too if you were the one looking after me."
mat flipped him off behind ella's back. "i'm not an idiot."
"before you met mama bear, you kinda were."
he rolled his eyes. "sorry for not knowing how to take care of a baby as soon as i find out i have one. most people have nine months to prepare for the arrival of a child. ella literally showed up on my doorstep."
truth be told, he was parroting the words you'd said to him a week ago when the guilt settled in about how much of a shitty father he was. you were quick to correct him, saying the exact things he told tito, that for a man who found out he had a child only a few months ago, he was doing a great job, and he was even better than some other fathers who left the parenting to their partner.
"i'd never leave you hanging like that," he'd said to you.
but you shrugged off his comment. "it's a little different when it's my job to take care of your kid, mat."
"you've done a great job, barzy," beau said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "there's no doubt about it. you can tell because she loves you."
ella smiled at mat and pushed his cheeks together.
"what do you say we get back to mama bear, huh?" he asked his daughter who only seemed to smile wider at the mention your nickname.
it was another fifteen minutes before they were home, rowdy and disturbing the peace and quiet you'd created for yourself.
"we're back!" mat called as tito shut the front door behind him.
they were setting things down on the floor by the door when you walked out in sweats.
"mama bear!” tito cheered.
you smiled and mat couldn't breathe. "how was my baby?"
mat was embarrassed to say he almost answered for himself. "she was great," was what he said instead. "isn't that right, ella bean?"
ella was reaching for you, making grabby hands in your general direction babbling something he couldn't quite make out.
"what'd you say, baby?" you asked.
"mama," she said.
and the room went silent.
mat's eyes kept darting from ella to you like he was watching a game of olympic table tennis. ella kept reaching for you until you finally gave in and held her. it was then he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks.
mat immediately went into defense mode.
"i'm sorry, i promise i didn't teach her intentionally, she probably picked it up from us calling you mama bear all the time and--"
you shut him up by placing a small kiss on his cheek and squeezing his forearm before turning on your heel.
"let's take a nap, ella bean."
mat couldn't speak, not even when you left the room. tito clapped him on the shoulder before heading towards the kitchen.
"you're so gone for her."
exhibit e
"are you sure about this?" you called from the other room. mat was in the living room adjusting his tie in the mirror on the wall while the babysitter was playing with ella on the floor.
to be honest, when he was complaining to beau about not having a date to some charity event the islanders were hosting, he wasn't expecting beau to suggest you. though, given how beau kept winking and nudging him after every time you and mat so much as made eye contact, it shouldn't have been surprising.
it wasn't that he didn't think of asking you, it was more like he didn't think you'd actually say yes.
"sure about what?" he called back.
"bringing me."
"i've never been more sure about something in awhile."
"you're so dramatic," you laughed.
mat would give anything to bottle up the sound.
"does this look okay?' mat turned when your voice sounded closer than it was a second ago.
he couldn't breathe.
god you looked beautiful.
"oh," you said softly. "your tie matches my dress."
if he could've he would've looked down to confirm your observation, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. your hair was perfectly styled, your makeup, flawless. the navy of your dress was perfectly matched to his tie and pocket square, something that shouldn't matter as much to him as it did.
but it was you.
so it meant the world.
you looked like you were his.
"yeah," was all he could say.
"you never answered my question," you said. "do i look okay? because if it's too much--"
"perfect," he said. "you look perfect."
you smiled. "sydney picked it out." thank you sydney. "you look handsome too mat, though, your tie..." you gestured to his neck so he turned around to see it crooked still. "do you need help?"
"yes please," he sighed. "i've looked up videos, but tito usually helps me do it."
"aw," you cooed. "you looked it up? that's so cute!" your deft fingers began undoing the knot and redoing it way better than he could've.
"how are you so good at this?"
you shrugged. "when i was fourteen, i read a book where a girl tied her husband's tie and i wanted to be able to do the same for the love of my life one day. so i asked my dad to teach me. i'm a bit of a hopeless romantic."
the love of your life.
god he'd give anything to be loved by you.
and it would be so easy just to lean forward a couple of inches and kiss you.
right there.
give in to what he'd been feeling for months.
but the babysitter rounded the corner with ella who was chanting mama and dada which somehow ruined the mood and made him want to kiss you even more.
"be good, sweet girl. we'll see you tomorrow." you made your way to the front door while he kissed his daughter on the head.
"i'm not sure how long we'll be out, but i'll keep you updated," he told the babysitter.
the babysitter nodded, which to be honest, he barely noticed because his attention was back on you and how your dress, while it had sleeves, had a dip in the back. he didn't know that skin could be so alluring, but maybe it was the fact that it was you.
mat cleared his throat and bid the babysitter and ella goodbye before ushering the both of you out of the door.
the drive lasted longer than he wanted it to, mainly because he couldn't wait to get to the event just to show you off.
was this how he was supposed to feel with all of his other exes? the desire to show the world you were his?
"you okay? you're quiet, it's unlike you," you said.
mat shrugged, mainly so he didn't immediately profess his feelings. "just a lot on my mind."
"uh oh. that can't be good," you joked. you leaned over the console and placed your chin in your hand. "you wanna talk about it?"
mat's hands on the wheel tensed, mainly to keep himself from leaning over and kissing you immediately.
"i'm good, maybe we can discuss it later."
you shrugged. "if you say so."
the both of you arrived at the event shortly thereafter with mat passing his keys off to the valet. "stay seated," he told you before getting out and rounding the car to open your door.
"you didn't have to--"
"i know," he smiled. "i wanted to." mat offered you his arm and you took it, wrapping your hand around his bicep like it belonged there.
the two of you spotted marty and sydney first; the latter all but shrieked when she saw you.
"you look amazing!" she said before tugging you out of mat's arm and into her own. "i told you this dress was the one."
"you didn't say i would've matched mat," you mumbled, though he still heard it over the buzz in the room. he was always listening to you.
marty nudged him. "you seem pleased with yourself."
mat smiled. "i am."
you were laughing at something sydney said when tito came up and clapped him and marty on the shoulders. "let's get you a drink, barzy. you look thirsty." he leaned in. "in more than one way."
mat shoved him off and leaned towards you, gently touching your arm. "i'm going with beau and marty to get a drink, but i'll be back."
you smiled and nodded. "okay, don't worry about me, mat. i'll be fine in your absence."
he let himself be whisked away from you and towards the bar where a drink was placed in his hand pretty quickly.
"so," tito started. "you two match."
"it was syd's doing," marty explained. "she orchestrated the whole thing. picked out the dress based on the tie mat wears every year. it was her new project."
mat flushed but did his best to brush it off.
"i don't know how you did it barzy," tito continued. "she looks good. if i were you i would've--"
"watch it, beauvillier."
"i was gonna say--"
"i don't care what you were gonna say, i probably wouldn't have liked it."
"well then, maybe you should take a chance and ask her out finally. the pining was cute at first, now it's bordering on pathetic."
mat rolled his eyes while marty laughed into his drink.
"look, you have a good thing going, you brought her here as your date, ella calls her mama, you two are as good as locked in and committed. you just have to do the hard work of officially asking her out!"
his gaze travelled to the other side of the room where you were laughing along with sydney and grace. you looked like you belonged in his world.
effortlessly.
mat made a move to go over to you, but marty caught his arm. "this is not the place to ask her out," he said. "as much as you want to, you don't want her thinking it took a pretty dress to get you to take her out."
"that's not the case here--"
"does she know that?"
mat rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink.
it was another thirty minutes before he made his way back to you. he found you standing alone on the balcony with a glass of champagne in your hand.
"you okay?" he asked. "no one's bothering you or anything, right?"
you looked over your shoulder and snorted. "i'm not important enough to be bothered by the donors, mat."
"don't say that. you're important."
you rolled your eyes. "not what i meant, mathew."
god he loved it when you said his name.
"i just meant that the donors don't really pay attention to me, so i've just been hanging out with the wives all night since my date ditched me," you teased.
"okay to be fair, tito pulled me away, i would've stayed with you all night if i could've."
you blinked. "really?" you asked in a small voice.
he nodded until he found the words to speak. "i love spending time with you. you're one of my favorite people."
within a split second you were closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his waist. your arms snuck under his coat so that the only thing separating your skin from his was the thin material of his dress shirt.
it only took him a split second to react to the hug and wrap you in his arms.
you mumbled against his chest. "you're one of my favorite people, too."
in conclusion:
in the end, there was nothing special about that day. it was a saturday in the middle of july back in coquitlam. by the grace of god, he'd convinced you to come to canada for him, not that you could really refuse as he was the one signing your paychecks, you'd joked (though he made it clear he'd continue paying you even if you didn't go).
and maybe he regretted it a little bit, seeing you bond with his family was another nail in his coffin of falling deeper in love with you. there was no way out now, not that he'd ever want one.
it was one particularly hot day in the summer that mat dragged you and the rest of his family to the beach. and maybe that was a mistake (seeing you in a red bikini in public should be illegal).
you sat in the sand with ella building castles, or at least attempting to, while he tried to drown liana in the water. it wasn't until liana finally dunked him, that he trudged back to shore, bent out of shape and irritated.
"you can dish it out but can't take it?" you teased as he plopped onto the sand next to you.
mat glared instead of saying anything mainly because ella was starting to pick up more and more words and she'd say "fuck" too many times thanks to his mouth.
speaking of, when she saw her dad, ella immediately called him before throwing herself into his lap, completely forgetting about you. it was funny to see mainly because it was a new trend of ella's, ditching you for him. it was even funnier because how put out you'd be about it.
just like now with your lip poked out and your eyes rolling.
"oh don't be a sore loser," mat said. "she used to love you more than me."
"well that makes sense, i'm way more likable than you are."
"i can't argue that."
liana came running into their direct line of sight with a polaroid camera in her hand. "i wanna get a picture of the happy family," she said as her explanation. "say cheese!"
mat froze but you didn't bat an eyelash at the idea of being called family. sure, he'd considered you a part of his ever since you agreed to watch his child, but he didn't know you felt the same.
"smile, mathew," you nudged him in the ribs.
he turned his head towards you, ignoring his sister's groans and chirps. he ignored the sound of a camera clicking and the subsequent flash that followed.
his focus was on you.
"mat, what're you looking at?" you asked. he could vaguely register liana walking away as your eyes searched his face for any hint of what could be going on, but all he could think about was you.
you wearing his jersey and holding ella at the stanley cup finals.
you in a few years with a ring on your left hand that he put there.
you with a newborn baby that was the perfect mix of the both of you.
you, old and crinkly, holding his hand on the couch as you told your grandkids stories.
you.
you.
you.
before he could even stop himself, he leaned forward and captured your lips with his.
you responded not a beat later.
and maybe it was embarrassing, how eager he was or how his hand felt like the perfect fit against your cheek. but he couldn't give a shit.
not when he'd waited so long for something like this. for someone like this.
and when you both pulled away, much too soon in his opinion, your eyes were wide.
"why'd you do that?" you whispered.
he shrugged and adjusted ella in his arms. "because my life is better with you in it. because i love you." he cleared his throat. "why'd you kiss me back?"
you smiled and leaned into kiss him again. this time though, instead of pulling fully away, you stayed close so that your lips brushed his. "because i love you too."
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Second Chance Sorcerer
Chapter 1 - Phantom Tokyo
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Summary: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape?
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader
A/N: I can't believe I actually got around to writing this! *sobs*. I hope everyone does take the time to read it, and enjoys what I've created here. This will be a multi-chapter fic, quite different from the one-shots I've posted before. It was originally made with an OC, which can be read on my AO3 account, but all changes have been made to y/n here.
Thank you @actuallysaiyan for making the lovely title banner and for listening to me rant and giving me all the encouragement to finish this chapter. Everyone needs a cheerleader like you. 💜
Nanami masterlist | Chapter 2
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“You’ve got it from here…Itadori kun.”
Those were the last words Nanami remembers saying before Mahito’s Idle Transfiguration fragmented his soul into smithereens. All he felt was pain, gut-wrenching pain as his soul collapsed and rearranged itself, piece after piece trying various combinations of alignment, trying to come back into some semblance of a whole, like chromosomes after being hit with a lethal dose of radiation.
His eyes squeeze shut, senses overloading as he prepares to meet whatever awaits him on the other side. Would it be a lovely afterlife like he’d hoped? Filled with long days on the beach, reading the backlog of books he’d been holding off on? Laying in the sun, no work, no obligations, just doing whatever he wanted to his heart’s content? He felt warmth against his chest, a bright light emanating from it, and for a split second, it felt like someone was calling out to him, a very familiar voice…
And all of a sudden it stops. With a thump, he crumples on something solid, his side colliding with the surface. Was this it? Was he in the afterlife? Nanami hesitantly opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings.
At first, it appears like he’s landed on a sidewalk that wound deeply into a very gloomy and derelict-looking city. He could make out buildings, traffic lights, and little shops tucked away in between these larger structures, all of them looking abandoned or in various states of disuse. Not exactly what he’d hoped for. Was this actually the Great Beyond? 
Nanami pushes himself to his feet, relieved when he realizes he’s not in pain anymore. Had Mahito sent him to a separate contained domain? He squints, trying to find his bearings. There was no sunlight wherever he was, but the street lamps were lit along the length of the sidewalk, casting shadows along the way. He cautiously looks around. The place looks strangely familiar…
He grasps his weapon, the blade having still been in his hand when Mahito touched him, and advances down the road. As he walks, he realizes with a jolt that wherever he is appears to be a phantom of his neighborhood. He recognized this road now, as he had frequented it so often. Up ahead was the grocery store he would go to every Saturday. And right opposite it, a little cafe he would sometimes wander into for their lovely croissants and artisan coffee. The more he walked, the more he started piecing together a map of this area, astonished at what he was seeing. This certainly couldn’t be a domain expansion. There was far too much detail resembling the real world and, although the place gave a foreboding aura, seemed to be unoccupied except for himself. 
He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, lowers his weapon, and tries to think. Logic was telling him Mahito had sent him somewhere, perhaps a sealed space, rather than kill him outright. But if that was the case, why was he healed? His entire left side which had been covered with fatal burns was gone, the skin healed over like new, his eye regenerated, hair grown back. His clothes and shoes had somehow been restored to their original condition, his glasses back to their position on his face. 
Things weren’t adding up. He continued to walk, then came upon a library he remembered passing by in the real world but had never really paid attention to before. Deciding this was as good a spot as any to glean information about his whereabouts, he enters, squinting through the darkness. Lines and lines of shelves stood neatly arranged in the building. Nanami walks between the rows, pausing in between sections for a brief moment before continuing his perusing. 
He rounds the corner, then quickly presses his back against a bookshelf as he senses an unusual energy signature fading away from him. So he wasn’t alone, and the thought wasn’t comforting. The energy didn’t match a human or a sorcerer, so he had to assume it was a special-grade curse. After his interactions with Jogo and Mahito, he didn’t know what to expect in terms of its abilities. He was tempted to escape but knew he had nowhere to go. If he was trapped in this domain what hope was there to escape this odd being he was sensing?
Raising the clothed blade with its polka dot pattern, he follows the energy steadily, not daring to breathe too loudly as he advances. It moves stealthily and silently, as though trying to elude him. This makes him immediately wary, sensing he could be getting lured into a trap. He follows at a distance, then stops as he comes to a reading section, the area cleared out and decorated with little chairs, poufs, and tables. Struggling to see in the dim light, he moves into the open, instincts screaming that he’s making a mistake. He pauses, trying to sense the energy again.
“It’s rude to chase one with a weapon you know.” A voice says from directly behind him. Nanami startles and spins around to face his pursuant, arms immediately coming before him to block an impending attack. Upon seeing the sight before him, his gaze fills with both fear and wonder, the being in front of him a vision of amazement. 
All he sees at first are a pair of piercing silver eyes that seem to probe the very depths of his soul. There’s a quiet insightfulness to them like he was looking into the eyes of an old friend, yet an unsettling intensity that made him feel apprehensive. The being appeared to lack a shape, but as Nanami took another step back, the light from the street lamps showed it to be made of wisps of black shadowy mist, neither fluid nor gas, swirling endlessly around it. 
Something within him tells him he shouldn’t fear this creature, yet all instincts were telling him to charge the attack before it got to him first. They stood, staring at each other through the dimness, before Nanami gathered his courage and asked, “What are you? A curse?”
The being huffs, as if it was an impertinent question. “What am I…Who am I…The question has been asked for centuries. Yet, even I do not have an appropriate answer…But I am most definitely not a curse.”
It glides silently over the floor, and Nanami instinctively raises his weapon. The being appears to look amused, based on the way those intense silver eyes glowed. “Put away your blade, Nanami Kento. The things I could have done to you once you entered my realm can’t be defended against by you, or even a special-grade sorcerer for that matter. I doubt even Ryomen Sukuna would stand a chance against me.” The smoky form billows, ebbing and flowing as it circles him. 
Not entirely reassured, Nanami puts his weapon back in the holder of his suspenders. There’s an odd feeling of reverence despite the eerie nature of the being. 
“I am what they call The Mediator, The One Before Death, or The Spectator.” It answers his question. 
“And where am I?” Nanami asks the shadow. 
“You are in between worlds, Nanami Kento.”
“In between worlds?” The blonde man repeated skeptically. Did such a thing exist? He had never given death much thought (beyond the dying part), and always assumed it was like being asleep one moment and waking up in paradise the next. To be in between worlds…had Mahito somehow just locked him away in another dimension that was a bleak version of his neighborhood? 
“So…am I…alive? But in another dimension?”
The Mediator looked at him thoughtfully, as though wondering how best to explain to him. “You are alive for now. But you definitely died, otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up here in my realm.”
“I died, and came back to life?” The sorcerer frowned at the obscureness with which this said. “That makes no sense. People don’t just arbitrarily resurrect from the dead. I was severely weakened. My soul was unprotected. Mahito’s attack should have killed me.”
“It did. However, something at that moment reversed the attack and restored the various fragments your soul had shattered into.”
Disbelievingly, Nanami started running his hands over his torso as though trying to find evidence that he had died. It was just…fantastical…impossible…He had survived Mahito’s attack? What divine intervention could have possibly saved him from something so deadly? As his fingers near his wrist, they brush over a small chain, hidden under the cuff of his shirt. He quickly undoes the button and looks incredulously at the small charm, an Aum symbol, dangling from the chain. 
“Y/n…” he murmurs her name softly. His apprentice. He now remembers her fastening one of these to not just him but to Ino and Itadori as well before they were deployed to Shibuya. 
“That’s probably what saved you,” the being said evidently, interrupting Nanami’s thoughts. “Whatever that is, it was imbued with a heavy concentration of neutralized curse energy. So when you died from the attack, that charm activated and repaired your soul.”
Nanami absently fingered the charm, trying to think. Y/n’s ability to neutralize cursed energy had improved immensely under his tutelage, he knew that, but he hadn’t imagined it to this extent. Her other ability included being able to manipulate any cursed energy she neutralized into forms of heat, summoning flames on her palms that towered at least  20 feet tall. How she had imbued the energy into the charm was anyone’s guess. 
“And I’m in between worlds.” He repeats again, trying to make sure he’s not misunderstanding the conversation.
“Indeed. Think of this as your own personal purgatory.” Those silver eyes bore into him like moons against a black sky, waiting to see his reaction.
Purgatory. Nanami pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, unable to fathom how insane this sounded. “I thought purgatory was for people who needed to be redeemed.”
“It is usually. But in your case, it looks like the veil partitioning the worlds got confused, seeing as how you left one dead, and then suddenly became alive in another. Death probably couldn’t figure out what to do with you so it sent you here instead.”
“So I’m stuck here?”
Despite the miraculousness of it all, Nanami couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation. He had been prepared for death for several years now. So much to the point that he had a will drafted, signed, and sealed, declaring all his possessions to be donated to charity since he had no other family or next of kin. A copy of the keys to his house had been entrusted to the lawyer who had helped draft the will. He had all his affairs set in order with the expectation that his death would be sudden and he was unwilling to burden anyone to deal with the repercussions. 
He had known he would die in the line of duty. He had accepted his fate the moment Mahito had laid a hand on him in the underground, welcoming death as a tranquil friend. His whole life had been struggle after struggle, a gamble, clawing his way to stay alive. All he could say was that he had been lucky so far. There had to be a moment when that luck ran out. He had been dreaming of knowing peace and death seemed to be the only option for that. 
“Does it bother you, that you are alive?” The purgatory being asks him curiously, noting his less-than-happy expression. “Most would rejoice at this second chance for life.”
The question hits Nanami with a gravity he hadn’t been expecting. “Most people haven’t lived my life. I’ve done enough. I’m tired. I’ve earned the right to a peaceful death.”
“And yet, it looks like someone desperately wanted you to live.” Those hypnotic eyes wander over to the charm dangling on his wrist. “Is that not reason enough? To not want to die?”
Disturbed by the notion, Nanami grips the charm. Y/n’s energy had kept him alive, unwittingly preventing him from moving on into the afterlife. Whether that had been her intent was debatable. Her desperately wanting him to live? It just didn’t seem likely to him. Sure, perhaps she didn’t want him to die in the way that people didn’t want others to die in general. But beyond that? He couldn’t fathom her being so consumed by the thought of his death that she would create a charm that essentially kept him alive after having his soul damaged to what should have been a point beyond repair. 
Y/n had a late start in her career as a sorceress, and certain concepts about it seemed to stymie her, more typically seen in a younger student than someone her age. He had repeatedly told her to not worry about him when he took her on missions, to value her life more than his. He drilled it into her head when he taught her self-defense, that if there was an opportunity to escape she should take it, the hand-to-hand combat sometimes leaving bruises on her skin because she’d been unwilling to take a shot at him. It always pained him when that happened, marking her, leaving those unsavory blemishes on her but how else was she going to learn that fairness wasn’t something that existed in Jujutsu? Her willingness to get a little scuffed up if it meant protecting him from a curse irked him. She was rather like a kitten unwilling to be shooed away from a reluctant petter. His lips curled wryly as he imagined her expression if she ever heard that comparison out loud. 
‘Don’t be so cruel Nanami san!’ She’d probably say, those large (color) eyes looking at him reproachfully. And for a moment, his mind’s eye couldn’t picture anything else except that; those large (color) eyes, and the shock in them when he told her that he didn’t think he’d live very long. She hadn’t said anything to convince him his mindset was wrong, but she did look like he had betrayed her by expressing his very honest and logical opinion. As though he had broken an oath to her by not saying he wanted to live long and prosper. 
Nanami gives himself a mental shake. This wasn't the time to be thinking about Y/ni's opinion on his death. The bigger task at hand now was figuring out what to do about his imprisonment in purgatory. 
All the while, the shadow hadn’t wavered and had merely continued to look at him work through his inner monologue. Realizing that Nanami had reached a limit, it said, “No, you are not stuck here. At least, not for very long.”
The sorcerer’s head snaps up at those words, eyes narrowing behind the green glass of his frames. “What do you mean, not very long?”
“Well, the neutralized energy imbued into that charm? It’s not infinitely going to remain contained in that. The seal broke when it saved your life, and it’s essentially trickling out little particles of it. It will run out at some point, although it’s difficult to say when that is.”
“And when it does run out?”
“You’ll die.” The being says simply. “And move on into the next realm. That’s the way purgatory is supposed to work. Cleanse you to be fit to live in the realm of death.” 
“And it’s unknown when that will happen?”
The shadow appears to ponder his question before offering a hesitant guess. “A few days, maybe 4 or 5 at maximum, based on the energy intensity that it's currently emitting.”
“And what am I to do for 4 to 5 days here?” Nanami gestures around the gloomy library, obviously not impressed with this arrangement. These extra days before his impending death somehow made a vein pop in his forehead. It was like a pre-death before the actual one.
“Well, you must have noticed by now that this is the neighborhood you used to live in. You are free to wander around here and experience your old life one last time. You can visit your apartment, take the subway and wander around the Jujutsu High campus, or watch a movie in the theater.” The shadow suggested, sounding like a pleasant tour guide for the afterlife. “Think of it as a vacation before your death.”
It struck Nanami as a little absurd but he strokes his chin, considering. “And that’s my only option? To experience my old life before dying?”
“It’s not the only option. You could go back and live.”
A pregnant pause hangs in the air at those words. Nanami’s eyes widen at the thought. He could go back to the land of the living? He hadn’t even considered that as an option. He only had death on his mind. Thoughts of living on a beach, days filled with no responsibility still flickered through his mind but at the same time…
“What is it about life that makes you so hesitant?” The purgatory being asks him inquisitively. 
Nanami opens his mouth but no words come out. Had he been thinking about how to escape his situation that all he had ever thought about was dying? It wasn’t unexpected of him. He had learned so long ago that life was mostly shit, with a few moments of relief folded in. At least it was for curse users. He remembers seeing all the people he knew die, how he had tried to escape from Jujutsu, only to be sucked back in because he knew he didn’t fit in anywhere else. When faced with the choice of remaining in a job of corporate greed, or one that endangered his life but was somewhat altruistic, the choice became apparent. He had returned to Jujutsu. Not entirely selflessly, but with the idea that it was the quicker way out of his misery. 
“Is there nothing you would like to return to?” The shadow presses. “Remember that you are a very rare case. Hardly anyone ends up in purgatory under your circumstances. I would hate to see a life go to waste because you don’t know what to do with it.”
A sudden memory comes into Nanami’s mind. A day of unexpected frivolity, when Y/n, Yuji, and Ino had convinced him to come along to an amusement park. It was an odd day but to his surprise, he hadn't hated it. Y/n had mostly stayed away from the roller-coasters, leaving it to Yuji and Ino, wandering with Nanami to the food stalls, closer in age to him than she was to the boys. It was a strange feeling of domesticity he had never experienced before, almost like they were a hodgepodge family of misfits. It was the closest thing he had experienced to a normal day in a long time. 
But days like that were rare. They were like sprinkles on top of ice cream. People could never have more sprinkles than ice cream. Life just didn't work that way. However, Nanami found himself contemplating his choices. Perhaps he had been so jaded that he thought life was wading through ice cream instead of appreciating the sprinkles? And here he was dreaming about sprinkles when he was stuck in purgatory. 
He sighs and shakes his head. “If I did go back, would it make a difference?” He asks doubtfully. 
The being’s eyes crinkle warmly, almost like it's smiling. “To one person, yes. And isn't that more than enough?”
The charm swings from his wrist like a pendulum. He considers the shadow’s words and feels his heart clench uncomfortably. The stakes almost felt too high, wagering his return to life on the chance that it would make a difference to Y/n. Well, maybe not just her. He frowns as he feels the energy in the trinket resonate for a brief moment when he thinks of her, as though it was trying to convince him to make the gamble. He had never quite paid attention to her energy signature before now, so concentrated within the tiny object; it felt like a warm cup of coffee on a lazy Saturday morning. He feels disconcerted that he could sense this now and it was making him want to change his mind about dying. He sighed deeply, feeling his resolve begin to solidify, even though it felt like he was making the wrong choice. 
“How do I get out of here?” 
The shadow has no features except its eyes, but if Nanami could assign it an expression, it would have to be triumph.  
“I’m so glad you asked.” It appraisingly looks at him, before continuing. “Perhaps you might want to let the lady know you’re alive.”
“Must I?” Nanami asks with a hint of exasperation. 
The shadow looks amused but continues in an even tone. “I’m afraid I must insist. It's better to give people a warning when you’re coming back from the dead. Prepares them for the prospect of seeing you again. Trust me, it’s better that way.”
“And how do I do that?” 
It merely continues to look at him with that amused expression and Nanami almost lets out a growl of frustration. “Listen. I died. Then I was told I wasn’t dead, but I’ll die soon. Then I changed my mind and decided I wanted to live. The least you can do is tell me how to get a message out of here.”
The purgatory being laughs; it’s an eerie noise, yet had all the comfort of a long-lost friend. “Very well 7:3 Sorcerer. It’s simple really. To send a message out of here, all you need to do is blend your cursed energy with the cursed energy of the person you’re thinking about going back to life for. Imbue this energy into a small object which will then find a way to its recipient.”
The elementary way this was said nearly cracks his temper. “Is that all?” He asks, unable to keep the bite of sarcasm out of his voice. 
The shadow chuckles at this, adding to his ire. “It really is. Just try focusing on something other than your disappointment of not dying today.” 
Nanami takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose trying to keep his composure. “A small object…” His hand grips the handle of his blade and pulls it out, eyeing it carefully. The whole blade wouldn’t make it. He just automatically knew it. But he wanted to make sure Y/n would recognize the message was from him. He fidgets with the blade, thinking, and then by accident, the edge of it comes in contact with the Aum charm. 
The blend of energy that shoots through him was a shock; a mix of the warm coffee on Saturday mornings, coupled with the calculated preciseness of a seasoned Q-grader who assessed those coffee beans. The polka dots spattered all over the cloth wrapping the weapon glowed at the edges for a brief second before the blade lost contact with the charm. 
Nanami observed the whole process with fascination. Dormant instinct took over him, and he moved his hand so that the charm now swung over the blade. Focusing on that combined energy signature, he purposefully touches the charm to the blade. Y/n’s neutralized curse energy flows into the blade, and he feels his own beginning to fuse with it. He concentrates on his ratio technique, and with a flash, all the polka dots lift off the blade, glowing with a pale sea foam green aura. 
“Find her,” he whispers to the dots, and in a hazy glow, they vanish. 
Nanami watches, as though in a daze, unable to believe what had just happened. He turns to look at the purgatory being.
“Message sent. Now, how do I get out of here?”
The shadow being had been looking at the spot where the polka dots had vanished. It swirls around and looks at him in the eyes. 
“By facing your deepest regrets.”
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libraryofgage · 10 months
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Saw the Barbie movie the other day and Billie Eilish's "What Was I Made For" (click the song title to listen to it lol) hit so fuckin different good lord. Anyway, it's perfect for Steve angst with a dash of platonic Stobin and romantic Steddie fluff so ;)
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Steve is five when he learns that he was made to keep his parents together. At least, that's why his mother made him.
He learns it one night when his father is staying late at the company (before his mother started accompanying him all the time, leaving an empty house and Steve behind; Steve can confidently say his presence did, in fact, fix their relationship: it gave them something to unite against). His mother is three large glasses of red wine in, draped inelegantly on the couch and slurring her words with a glassy film covering her eyes.
"Steven, you were supposed...supposed to make him stay," she says, her fourth glass of wine dangerously close to spilling across the white rug. "An-and he's still gone! What did we do wrong?"
Despite the use of "we," Steve knows very well (even at the age of five) that his mother means "What did you do wrong?" He doesn't have an answer for her--he never will--and that seems to be just one more thing she holds against him.
Steve is seven when he learns that he was made to keep the family name strong and respected. At least, that's why his father made him.
He learns it when his father brings him to work, his stern expression and tense shoulders telling Steve to behave himself, to be seen and not heard the entire day (he did, and it worked a little too well; after falling asleep on the couch, his father had forgotten him at work, leaving him to spend the night in the locked office). His father is sitting at his desk, expensive pen in hand and phone just hung up after a tense conversation that ended with the most genuine smile Steve has ever seen from him.
"Steven, I hope you've been paying attention today," he says, placing the pen on the desk and fixing him with a suffocating gaze. "You'll be working here one day, and I expect you to make something of yourself when you do. You're to be a model man, someone I can proudly introduce to others."
When his father says proudly, Steve knows he means that he can't do that now because Steve has yet to make something of himself. Steve nods once, says a firm but not too loud, "Yes, sir," and his father goes back to work.
Steve is sixteen when he learns Nancy made him her boyfriend for...for a distraction? Because it's what was expected of her? Because she was curious? At least, that's what Nancy seems to be saying.
Honestly, Steve isn't sure she knows, either. But she definitely knows that he wasn't what she wanted, that he wasn't what she expected, that he couldn't live up to the expectations she had made for him.
Either way, he learned it over the course of their relationship, but it all hit him at the very end, when fights and names (idiot, asshole, and dick, to list a few) compounded into a breakup that left him aching, angry, empty, hurt, and desperate to know what he did wrong.
Maybe then he'd be able to save himself from making the same mistake over and over. Because it must be him, right? It must be something he's doing; if only he could figure out what that is.
Steve is seventeen when he learns that maybe he was made to be a shield. At least, that's how he understands the plan Dustin comes up with wherein he calls Steve their tank.
He learns it when they're huddled together at some point, readying to face demodogs and whatever else the Upside Down has decided to throw at them. Dustin is explaining the plan, his eyes bright as he throws around terms Steve can't recognize. "And Steve is going to be our tank," he says.
"What's a tank?" Steve asks, at least certain they don't mean the military kind of tank.
"Like a meatshield, duh," Mike tells him, the explanation short and quick and then disregarded in favor of the rest of the plan.
Maybe Steve should have felt hurt, but part of him is more excited by the fact that he could do well as a tank, a meatshield. He could, in fact, be made for that role. He's great at taking a punch, great at jumping back to his feet, great at putting himself between the kids and whatever wants to kill them.
The only way he could possibly fail at being a shield is by dying, and he doesn't plan to die just yet.
Steve is eighteen when he wonders if maybe he's made to love. At least, that's a realization he has after befriending Robin, getting tortured together, and learning he doesn't need romance to love someone. It's a realization he throws himself into wholeheartedly one day when he looks at Robin and sees her trying to drink a slushie with a Twizzler.
"I think I love you," he blurts out, unable to hold the words in and feeling bad for it when Robin subsequently chokes on Twizzler and Cherry slush.
She spits out the slushie, tosses her Twizzler into the cup, and spins around to look at Steve. "We've definitely talked about this, dingus," she says, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "You got amnesia or something?"
Steve rolls his eyes and pushes her. "Not like that. I mean, like, a friend. I love you, Robin. You mean a lot to me, and I hope we're still friends when we're 80 so we can make fun of other people in our nursing home."
Robin breaks out into a grin that she quickly suppresses. "Ugh, affection," she sneers, turning her nose up. It lasts all of three seconds before she glances at Steve from the corner of her eye and adds, "I love you, too, dingus."
Steve is nineteen when he decides that he's made for love, to give and receive and bask in its warmth. At least, that's what he decides when he's with Eddie, sprawled across his bed and listening to the mixtape he made for Steve.
They've been dancing around each other for a while up to that point: obnoxiously obvious flirtations, finding any excuse to brush against each other or share space or lean together, creating reasons to hang out with some as simple as "I'm just bored." Steve has been enjoying it; they both seem to understand what's inevitable, and they're just taking their time getting there.
And right now, listening to Eddie sing along to Metallica, Steve thinks that he wants to stop dancing around each other and dance together, instead. So, he turns onto his side, places a hand on Eddie's arm, waits until Eddie is looking at him with a bright smile and curious eyes, and says, "I was made for loving you."
Instead of the joy Steve was expecting, Eddie just looks confused. "How'd you know that was the next song?" he asks.
"What?"
"On the mix tape. I Was Made for Loving You by KISS. That's the next song," Eddie explains.
Steve blinks and frowns. He sits up, throws a leg over Eddie's hips, and settles on top of him. Eddie doesn't look surprised, since it's not the first time Steve has done this. Usually, it just means Steve wants him to pay close attention. "I didn't know it was the next song, Eds."
It takes a few moments for Eddie to fully understand what he means. And Steve gets a front-row seat to the confusion that morphs into understanding that morphs into amazement. "Oh," Eddie breathes, pushing himself up to rest on his elbows. "Could you say it again? I don't think I heard you the first time, Stevie."
Steve snorts but humors Eddie anyway. "I was made for loving you," he says, softer this time and leaning closer.
"Yeah, much clearer that time." Eddie's grin is wide and blinding before he closes the distance between them. "I was made for loving you, too, sweetheart," he whispers back, his words pressed against Steve's lips and searing into his heart.
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optimist-pine · 3 months
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Mercy
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: Animal death
Summary: Daryl watches you hunt and he's left with a question he can't answer.
Era: Season 2, the farm
A/n: Haha this was supposed to be fluff under the title Archer. It's flangst now... Whoopsie.
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     Daryl doesn't know what drives him to do it. Maybe it's simply boredom. More likely though, it's his growing desire to learn - to study you, study your technique. Maybe he's already impressed and all that's left is to see you in action.
     That's how he finds himself following you into the woods on this freshly arrived morning. He keeps his distance but it's not very difficult to keep track of you, your pace and direction consistent and reliable. When you do stop he finds himself watching with rapt attention.
     The way you wait is as reverent as a prayer. Your stance never shifting, arms steady and strong, posture perfect. Images of those ancient marble sculptures cross his mind, their bodies crafted into fine-tuned instruments. If he didn't know better, he'd say that the forest has gone still; nothing - not even the breeze - makes a move. The world has gone quiet, like even the animals are holding their breath.
     Then your arrow flies and the earth returns to life in full force, that is, everything except for one rabbit who has become quite still. Your arrow has pierced its eye with extreme precision, but he's not surprised. Every piece of game you've ever brought back has been taken down that exact same way.
     You collect the rabbit, removing and cleaning your arrow before continuing on deeper into the woods. Daryl doesn't mean to follow, but something spurs him onward. He's never really cared much for art, but if that's what you are, call him a damn aficionado. He's fascinated. 
     It takes a little while, but you suddenly pause. He spots the reason why - a large gray squirrel clings to the bark of a nearby tree, tail twitching. You take aim, graceful and smooth. But then, like last time, you hold your stance for one breath, then a second, and suddenly the squirrel quirks its head and bolts. He expects you to show at least some disappointment, but you simply let down your bow and continue on.
     This happens a few more times; you find your prey, ready your bow, and then wait. Sometimes you loose your arrow and other times you practically allow the animal to get away. This time you have your aim trained on a rather large rabbit, probably a buck. It turns, ready to run, and Daryl can tell you aren't going to shoot this one, so he does. As soon as his bolt hits its target your entire body pivots.
     He immediately finds himself at the business end of your bow, but the sharpness of your glare currently feels like the larger threat. "Are you following me?" You ask, lowering your weapon. The glare remains, although it seems to be softening.
     You'll know he's lying if he says he isn't, but he doesn't want to admit that he is. "Why d'yuh wait, when ya got'um in your sights?" He blurts out.
     You place the arrow back in your quiver with a sigh. "You are following me."
     "Jus' curious." He shrugs.
     You look up to the sky. "Dunno... Don't like killing things." Your gaze lands on the dead rabbit laying a little ways away. "Figure I'll give 'em one last chance to keep on livin'."
     He lets out a snort. Hunting is a way to secure a meal, not some moralistic nonsense. "So, yer like a damn fairytale princess or somethin'?" He asks. "Bes' friends wi'the woodland creatures an'all that?" He waves his hands around for emphasis.
     Your face hardens. "It'd be different if we really needed the food." You say sternly, turning to stalk away, back towards the farm. He grabs the now-joined rabbit and bolt and jogs after you, but you're moving at a surprisingly quick clip, dodging branches and roots with ease.
     When he's nearly caught up, you stop suddenly and he barely avoids plowing straight into you. You whip around to face him and he instinctively takes a step back. But you're not angry, at least not in the way that he was expecting. He'd been prepared for a slap in the face, not the deep sadness in your eyes. "Feels like some sorta mercy I guess." You say quietly.
     He doesn't feel bad about what he said, but your answer catches him off guard. The world is as cruel and as harsh as it's ever been. It doesn't care who lives and who dies, and it sure as hell isn't handing out second chances. "Not much'a that goin' around righ' now." He replies solemnly.
     "I don't wanna turn into someone who loses that." Your voice is soft and almost pleading and it pulls at something buried within him.
     With a jolt he's thrown into his own past. He knows what that loss does to a person, how much of his life he's spent terrified of becoming that. You're beginning to make a little more sense now. "Yuh, won't." He assures.
---
     As time passes, when you do desperately need the food and mercy is barely a reality, Daryl finds himself fighting to protect yours. When the two of you hunt, he insists you take point, that you stick to the way you did things that day at the farm. He'll be right behind you, your backup, he'll do what you shouldn't have to. That part of you - that's something that can't afford to ever be lost. He'll do everything in his power to see to that.
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reallyromealone · 3 months
Text
Title: tattoo dates
Pairing: dabi x keigo
Fandom My hero Academia
Warnings: baby reader, single dad Dabi, no quirk au, fluff
☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️
Don't be the step dad, be the dad who stepped up.
The sound of summer could be heard in the early morning of Tokyo, the cool air refreshing for Keigo as he stepped into the small tattoo parlor and taking in all the art on the walls. It was actually quite nice... The parlors he looked at online seemed to try and look more badass but this one was organised and incredibly clean "you're my 8:30, right? Keigo Takami?" What he wasn't expecting based on the aesthetic of the parlor was a black haired man covered head to toe with tattoos and piercings, a loose fitting worn tank top that looked intentionally worn out and a pair of black cargo pants and god Keigo was thankful he was wearing sunglasses as he noticed a feint outline.
"That's me~ thanks for fitting me in so early!"
"Yeah, whatever... You wanted a back tattoo right? Do you have a picture?" Dabi was tired, his kid was sleeping in the other room as it was too early to take him to daycare today and the little guy wasn't feeling well so he didn't want him far away "so serious ~ trying to be all tough for me?" Keigos charm was not working as Dabi rolled his eyes "get on the table and take off your shirt" the black haired man said as Keigo pouted but sent him the reference as their phones touched, hopping on the table and removing his shirt.
"Wings?"
"Red ones" hawks said as he rested his cheek on his fore arm, arms crossed over one another relaxed as he felt the other prepare the tattoo and sanitize his back "what shade?" Dabi asked softly as he prepared the tattoo pen "a bright red...crimson almost"
Dabi was focused, the mirror infront of the table, full length and clean as crystal thus giving Keigo a full view of his tattoos arms flexing under the florescent lights "your parlor is much different the others" Keigo said breaking the silence as the needle hit his skin "yeah, gotta keep things clean..." He said simply, Keigo noting how everything was kept at least 3 feet off the floor or locked away.
Music played softly in the background as Dabi worked away "so what do you do for fun?"
"Don't have much time for hobbies" Dabi said simply, the detail he was putting into it was impressive especially the price the other was paying "really? How come?" Keigo asked curiously and the black haired man looked at him from the mirror "being a dad doesn't give much free time"
"You're a dad?"
"Yeah, eight month old... He's sleeping in the other room right now" it was rather early Keigo thought, having booked out of hours for security reasons "I see..."
The two worked for another hour and a half till Keigo was given a break, looking at the work so far he was quite impressed as Dabi went to the other room to check on the kid "hope you don't mind, he's pretty chill so he won't cause issue"
Ok, why was this man so attractive holding a kid? What the fuck.
Keigo tried not to look flustered as the tiny baby looked back sleepily, drinking his bottle calmly before being set in his play pen that was off to the side "normally I don't keep kid stuff here..." (Name) babbled softly as he played with his toys, fully content doing his own thing as dad was fairly close "you ready to continue?"
By the end of the session, Keigo smiled at the babe who was vibing "your total will be 900" the detail on the wings were insane, best work the other has done as Keigo smiled "thanks for being normal... Most places freaked out when they met me"
"Who are you?" Dabi asked blankly and Keigo looked startled but smiled "just an actor, ya know?" Dabi shrugged as the actor paid for his tattoo, (name) snuggling into his dad's arms as the actor left.
But that wouldn't be for long.
Keigo showed up for another tattoo, though this one would have to be in phases as (name) had a doctor's appointment "yeah, he has teeth growing in... So gotta make sure it's going alright" (name) was chewing on a cold teething ring as Keigo booped his forehead, the babe looking confused but didn't do much else.
"A date?" Dabi raised an eyebrow as Keigo leaned over the counter "yeah, I found a good restaurant and it has a kids menu... Maybe mashed potatoes for the big guy over there" (name) looked up as he was chewing on his dad's fingers "you know what a date means right? Were a package deal, he comes first" dabi was deathly serious and Keigo smiled "absolutely"
"Then wine and dine me pretty boy"
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