#Fuckin...I don't have all that much for Sun yet

[evilminji]

Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?

They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?

And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?

Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.

Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.

He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.

But it's not.

His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".

......guys?

His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.

*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*

Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.

And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?

Are DIFFERENT.

They're all of um!

It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.

There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.

Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!

No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!

Sad. We miss it.

But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?

Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!

Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?

Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*

Clearly a demon!

He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.

Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.

Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)

Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.

People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.

Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!

Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.

So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.

Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.

He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.

Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes

#dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #minji's writing

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter IV

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

What's a Lieutenant if not someone you can use as a stress reliever

Or

Being a gifted medic comes with free rewards

You weren't the only one catching up on some sleep. Simon was awake throughout Johnny's entire surgery despite having slept four hours the previous night, wanting to be available in case you needed his help, finally getting some much-needed rest after being practically forced by Price.

He wakes up six hours later, a small groan escaping his lips at the light entering his window. His burly arm comes up to cover his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun.

''Fuckin' hell.'' He muttered, getting up from bed and putting on a black balaclava. Shit went down yesterday, with Johnny almost dying, and Makarov is now free, able to continue killing civilians until they're finally able to catch him. At the very least, his best friend is alive and stable last time he visited.

Simon leaves his room, walking to the cafeteria to get a bottle of cold water and a few granola bars before heading to your quarters, knocking on the door softly in case you're asleep. No reply. He knows better, but... what if something happened to you? He uses the pathetic excuse to justify his actions, hand turning the doorknob carefully before stepping inside, footsteps surprisingly quiet for someone his size.

What a fucking sight. He stared at your sleeping figure for a while, taking in the details of your face when it wasn't pulled into a scowl or a bored expression, a small smile tugging on his lips at how peaceful you look before he realized how creepy he was being. He shook his head softly as if to snap out of it, putting the water bottle and granola bars before turning away to try and leave.

Try, because a much smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, almost making him flinch because of how sudden it was. He looks down at you only to find your eyes boring into his, tugging him closer by the wrist. A confused Simon followed like a lost dog before his feet rooted on the ground in front of your bed, giving you a questioning look with his eyes.

''Come lay with me.'' Your voice is much gentler than usual, laced with something he can't quite recognize yet. Simon knows better, really he does, but who is he to question the medic he's been pining on for months? He hesitantly removes his boots and climbs into bed with you, keeping a respectful distance despite his behemoth frame taking over half of the bed. His muscles tense up when he feels you cuddling up to him, being a painfully fitting piece against his body.

''What are you on bout, doc?'' You don't reply, simply examining his eyes for any hints of hesitation. You find nervousness, curiosity, doubt, and even the smallest hints of fear, but no hesitation at all. Your hand sneaks up to the bottom of his balaclava, pulling it all the way off before your lips crash into his hungrily. It takes him a few seconds of pure confusion before he kisses back, arms wrapped around your waist, and whatever questions he has on why you're doing this all of sudden pushed to the back of his mind.

Your hands grab at anything they can reach— muscle, skin, hair... anything, holding onto his much bigger body like a lifeline, his warm hands running up and down your back. He has fantasized about this moment so many times, yet the real thing is so different in a good way.

''Tell me I can touch you, bird.'' You simply nod your head and try to go back to kissing him, but he pulls away, gently squeezing your waist to make you look at him.

''Use your words.'' His words are almost pleading, wanting to make sure you want the same thing.

''I want you to touch me, Simon.'' Not a second passes before his lips are back on yours, tongues wrapping around each other's as his hands start to drift down, grabbing a handful of your ass. His touch is so desperate it almost makes you laugh, one of your hands sneaking down his shirt and feeling him up, defined muscles flexing under your touch. His slightly shaky hands fumble with the button of your jeans, breaking away from the kiss just to look at you and make sure you still want it. The half-lidded look you give him is enough confirmation, pulling down your jeans and getting on his knees, between your legs.

"Been wanting to do this since I saw ya." He confesses, too excited for his fantasies finally coming true to even feel remotely bashful about his words. He lifts up your shirt enough to reveal your tummy, gentle kisses planted on every single inch of skin his lips can reach as he slowly descends, planting open mouthed kisses over your clothed cunt.

"Fuck—" Your back arches at the feeling, eyes screwed shut as your hand goes to the back of his head, pushing him closer. His tongue is warm and wet, saliva mixing in with your growing arousal. He pushes your panties to the side, looking down at your gleaming pussy before digging in, tongue lapping the wetness before he latches onto your cunt, sucking and licking away like a starved man.

"You taste s'fucking good." He praises before going back down, the flat of his tongue moving around your cunt before slowly going inside, your whiny moans and hands gripping his short hair are all the encouragement he needs. He latches onto your clit next, long fingers teasing the entrance of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over them before he slowly enters you with one.

His fingers are thick and long, whiny moans escaping your lips as he adds a second one, making scissoring motions as he fucks his fingers deeper and deeper into you, tongue alternating between licking and sucking on your clit before hesitantly letting go.

"Sit on my face." It's not even a request, it sounds like a plea, though you quickly listen to his words for the first time ever, cunt hovering above his face as soon as he lays back down. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the plush and pulling your body down to his face, eating you out like a starved man. His hands let go of your ass to unbuckle his belt, barely having the strength to pull his hard cock out of his jeans, eyes closing as he focused on the dual sensation of pleasuring you with his mouth and pleasuring himself with his hand, pre staining his fingers as his hand moves up and down his shaft faster.

"Fuck— Just like that, Si." Si. You never call him anything other than Simon. Sometimes Ghost, when you're needed during missions and hang around them in the helos, but the way you say his name... so much affection, even if it only comes from making you feel good. He's pathetic— God, he knows he's being pathetic, cock twitching in his hand at the idea of you reciprocating his complex and strange feelings for you, ropes of thick cum shooting out into his hand and stomach, a low growl coming out of his lips as he squeezed his cock dry of cum.

He focuses solely on you now, tongue swirling and flickering all over you, his clean hand coming up to rub your clit with his thumb while he assaults your dripping wet cunt with his lips and tongue. Your hands go down to his head, fingers pulling on his short hair while you use his face to feel good, getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Si, I'm gonna cum—" But he doesn't stop. Hell, his thumb moves even faster over your sensitive bud, tongue-fucking your pussy as deep as he can until he can feel your body shaking on top of him, thighs closing in on his head and squeezing as the intensity of your orgasm washes over you, his waiting mouth taking in all your juices, lapping at them greedily until you pull away from the stimulation, shaky legs managing to position yourself next to him, head against his chest.

"You hear that? Price is calling you." You lie, unable to contain the smirk on your lips as he flicks your nose.

"Piss off, doc." His burly arms wrap around you, a loud groan of protest escaping your lips when you realize you're forced to cuddle with him.

[PREVIOUS]

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #mw2 #cod #ghost call of duty #ghost x f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x medic!reader #medic reader

[cheonstapes]

omg plss do a miguel x bimbo reader im in love <3

miguel o'hara stars in... 'HANDY MIGGY'

(っ╹ᆺ╹)っ

a/n ~ I. LOVE. BIMBOS!!!! thank you for the request sweetie, love you💗 miguel would deffo love a cute little bimbo, i just know it

summary; you don't know how to change your tyres. why would you? that's what your boyfriend's for!

pairing; miguel o'hara x bimbo!reader

wc; 1.4k+

cw; SMUT!!!!, breeding kink (can you tell i have a breeding kink), semi-public sex, fuckin on the car, reader speaks a bit of spanish, daddy kink, meanish!dom miguel, sub!reader, reader is a bit stupid, princess treatment!, reader is a bad bitch, overstimulation, squirting, orgasm control, teensy bit of aftercare, THEY'RE IN LOVE YOUR HONOR, nawt proofread - i cannot drive, yet.

surely you weren’t that dumb? were you?

standing there in the 40° heat - wedge sandals, short skirt with your thong riding high on your hips, sweat-sheened tits spilling our of your cute little crop top. a girl always has to look her best, even when she’s about to melt into a puddle from the sun. doing things that required you to use your brain wasn’t something you did often, that’s what your boyfriend’s for! 

to be fair, you were never big on cars. barely passing your drivers test, and your daddy getting you your first car shortly after - you didn’t really want to drive around everywhere yourself, the pink porsche taycan collecting dust in your garage, being a passenger princess is the lifestyle now. unfortunately for you, your boyfriend - even though he would collect all the stars in the sky for you if you asked - refuses to let you put that car to waste. so now you’re forced to resurrect the thing, cleaning it up a little bit - and…you have to change the tyre’s. 

you even forgot about the punctures, after you accidentally drove over a few spikes in the road coming out of the wrong exit - sometimes you question why you ever qualified for a license. all the tyres were severely fucked up, deflated so much they look like they melted into the floor. your daddy gave you a bunch of spares in case (he knew it would) it ever happened. they were just so heavy, though. you weren’t built for lugging around fucking tyres - but your boyfriend is!!

so you called him, in the middle of the day, knowing he’s probably busy doing his big man job or whatever - but you knew he would drop everything to come and help you, this is an emergency girl! to no one’s surprise, he got there within 15 minutes of you ending the call, speeding into your driveway as he jumps out of the car. sometimes, you forget how mouthwateringly sexy your boyfriend is. 

a tight black compression shirt, matching shorts that clung to his thick thighs - black rimmed sunglasses matching yours pushing his hair back. not to mention the little grimace on his face from stepping out in the heat. “what’s up, baby? you ok? need me to get anything for you?” aw, he was so worried. he’s gonna be so pissed when he finds out what you really need him for.

“hi papito, so glad you’re here.” let’s try to sweet talk him a little bit, maybe it won’t be so bad if you give him a little love - the one thing he can’t resist. you hold his face in your hands, pressing a glossy kiss on his puckered lips. his brows furrow slightly, big hands resting on your hips as he pulls you close him, a low moan escaping him as he pulls away. “good to see you too, angel.” he had an amused smirk on his face, lightly caressing your ass under your skirt. “now, tell me what you need help with.”

nodding, you shyly take his hand in yours and lead him to the garage. it was a mess, to say the least - tools scattered everywhere, tyres rolling around where they’re not supposed to be, something that looked like grease spilled on the floor. “the fuck were you tryna do here, babe?” you smiled sheepishly, looking down at the floor before looking back up at him with round eyes. 

“…’m tryna change my tyres.” 

he rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips as he stared at you - an unimpressed look on his face. “god, you’re really a-

——————————————————————————————————

- dumb, fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” the hood of your car was covered in a mix of your shared arousal, drool dripping out of your swollen lips down your chest. “only good for taking this fat cock, hm?”

hard nipples rubbing against your windshield, body jolting violently as your boyfriend abused his cock into your cunt. he was stretching you out so deliciously, his arms under your legs to keep you stable. “m-miggy, mm- fuuuuck, ‘s too much!” he really didn’t care, not when you looked so pretty under him. secretly, he loved how much you would rely on him - seeing that look on your face when you’d ask him for help, shit if it didn’t make him so fucking hard. but, god did he love to punish you for it. 

“too much for your stupid, little brain, baby? y’re so cute, you know that?” nodding dumbly, you grind your hips back onto his, flipping up your skirt to slam your ass onto his pelvis so he can watch the cheeks ripple. miguel let out a low growl, slamming a hand down by your head so he can lean against your back, the other gripping your hip. “just wanna fuck you ‘till you’re nothin’ but a senseless breeding bitch f’r me.” his breathing was heavy against your ear, sharp teeth nicking at the sensitive skin. 

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you muñeca? quieres que te llene de mi semen. esta linda barriga toda pesada con mis bebés. wouldn’t let you raise a finger again, ‘m gonna do everything f’r you - since you’re too fuckin’ dumb to do it yourself, gorgeous.” he had such a mouth on him, didn’t he. that didn’t sound too bad, being a stay at home mum. as long as you don’t have to do anything, then you’d happily stay plugged up with his cum all the time.

his balls were heavy, smacking against your stiff clit as he worked your hips back on him. the sensations were overwhelming. every ounce of your body was feeling the pleasure, the reflection of his strained face through the windshield making you clench tightly around him. he hissed, smacking your cunt before gripping your neck and holding you against his hard chest. “stop fuckin’ clenching. if there’s anything that small brain of yours should comprehend, it’s don’t cum till i tell you to.” 

“papitooo- please, i need’ta cum - i can feel it, baby!” you, poor, poor thing. too bad he doesn’t give a fuck. he pounded into you even harder, blunt head bullying your cervix. he quickly flipped you around, pressing your back onto the car as he gripped your hips, grinding slowly into you. “hold it.”

angling his hips just right, he drove his fat cock deeper into you, coarse hairs tickling your clit. his fingers trailed up your body, ripping your shirt as he flicked your nipples, spitting on your chest to get them nice and wet. “y’re so pretty, mm, my pretty baby.” his balls tightened, cock twitching hard inside of you as his tip drooled all over your walls.

“gonna cum in your tight, fuckin’ cunt, babe - rub your clit f’r me, or is that too hard for you?” he was so cruel but so sweet. sadistically watching your shaky fingers work your aching clit as his pelvis slammed into you. “goood girl. squirt f’r me, muñeca.” he gazed deep into your eyes, big hands caressing your cheek. 

it all gushed out at once, a heavy stream jetting out of your and coating his chest as he let out a deep chuckles, plugging you up with his girth. he fucked you through it, pinching at your throbbing bud as you shook in his hold. “w-wait, miggy, ‘m too sensitive!” he grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the car. he let out a low snarl, covering you completely as he rammed deep inside. “quiet. keep that pretty mouth shut.” he didn’t realise how much that would set him off, his orgasm coming before he could even process it.

his whole body tensed up, ass clenching, fingers bruising your hips, hips jutting in and out of you - filling you to the brim with his cum. he was breathing sluggishly, pulling your hips down towards him to keep all his seed inside. “you…you did so good, baby. i love you, yeah? so much.” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your face affectionately. “i love you too, papito.”

you stayed there for a few minutes, wrapped up in each other as you found each others lips, making out smoothly on the car. you pulled a way, placing a hand on his chest - staring at the new tyres that he fixed on for you. “migs?” he nodded, kissing and biting your neck.

“how do i change the oil?”

-quieres que te llene de mi semen. esta linda barriga toda pesada con mis bebés - you want to be filled with my cum. this cute tummy all heavy with my babies.

-muñeca - doll

-papito - daddy

-i wanna be a bimbo doll!

#cheonstapes #cheonstapes films!🪷 #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x y/n #cheonslovelynonnies💕

[kafkaesque22girlfriend]

The Damned P.1

Toji Zenin x fem! reader

Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….

Being a servant in the Zenin household was not for the weak-willed or the weak-minded, it took strong foundations of a strong mind to survive within these endless, lavishly adorned walls of the Zenin Compound. One of the three big clans in Jujutsu Society, blossoming the pure, clean bloodline of the strongest sorcerers in the modern and past Jujutsu eras.

Your parents pushed you into being here, young but not ditsy, focused yet polite. The Zenin really didn't care, they just wanted the free labour, but you did get a roof over your head when the Zenin took you in as a servant. Little did you know that your parents literally sent you off to serve strangers and live with them for God knows how long. Your cursed technique was strong and your parents wanted the Zenin to know that and get in with the family, even if you started as a lowly servant. To infiltrate? To gather information? To be married off? To destroy from the inside…? You didn’t know, nor did you care at this point.

The clan leader, Naobito Zenin, sent you off on your way as if he didn't give a single thought, as if he was washing away the dirt on his hands. You were young and inexperienced and you didn't deserve the reward of the bigger duties so you were sent Toji Zenin's way, the black sheep, the damned one in the Zenin clan. You would be the personal servant of Toji Zenin.

Which leads you here now, standing by the foot of his bed, ready to wake him up like you usually do. Late. It was nearing 11 am and the clan needed to be in the training quarters in about half an hour. You glanced at Toji, seeing the drool escape from his mouth, his hair roughed up, and the sheets that barely covered his naked chest. These were the only times you felt Toji not be intimidating. You opened up the curtains and the windows, letting the fresh air ventilate the room. He grunted when the light hit his eyes at the most perfectly uncomfortable angle.

“Get the hell out.” He groaned angrily as he covered his eyes with his bulky forearm.

“Rise and shine, Master Toji.” You say with a faint warmness, anything to keep this civilised and polite knowing he could lash out quickly. The light seeps through the room and bathes it in the sunlight. He looked peaceful lying there, it's shame you had to wake him. He never looked so peaceful while he was awake, and, sadly, we all know the reason why. Toii grumbled and groaned, lifting his arm from his eyes.

“Can't even fuckin' sleep in this damn house.” He opened his eyes and was met by the sight of the sun hitting against your silhouette. He then looked at your face and rolled his eyes, a sour expression filled his face once more. “And do me a favour, and don't call me 'master' if you don't want your teeth punched in.” Toji fucking hated that, fucking hated it all.

You immediately frown. “It's not like I want to call you that, you are my superior. I work for you, I have to refer to you as that.” You explain to Toji as if he didn't already know it clear as day. “Would you like me to bring in a gong and wake you up like that?” You say, a small smile tugging at your lips at the insane hypothetical.

“I don't give a damn if you have to call me that, just drop it.” He growled against his pillow, glaring at you in the process. Toji then sat up from the bed, resting his head on his right hand as he looked at you blankly. He couldn't help but believe that there was some charm to you in how you were so polite. Your expression had an innocence to it that he had never come across in the cesspit that was the Zenin compound. “If you dare bring a gong in here, I'll break it and then your ribs.”

You knew that he was very much capable of doing that, so you didn't push further. But your mouth ran faster than your brain.

“Well then Toji, if you break my ribs...who will be making you breakfast every morning? Speaking of which, if you want food, I'm making some. So get up.” You say a little more firmly this time, you've never been this challenging towards your superiors, part of you wants to take it back, what if the clan deject you for being disrespectful? You frown slightly and leave the room to head back to the kitchen and finish preparing his breakfast.

The first thing he did when you left the room was let out a groan of frustration. It was always like this, you were being too much of a pushover to him. Always too kind. That was what irritated him the most. Maybe he was projecting. He needed to stop thinking that. Toji got dressed into his montsuki and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and freshen himself up, he hated how every day started the same.

-

Soon, you heard his footsteps walking towards the kitchen, a few seconds later his hulking figure appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame as he crossed his arms.

“I can make my own breakfast.” He declared in a low and husky voice.

“No, you can't.” You say politely but your words carry some weight to them that resounded throughout the whole room.

Each clan member had a specific section of the compound to themselves, so you had an entire kitchen to yourself to prepare food for Toji. He couldn't make his breakfast even if he tried, servants were solely assigned that duty.

You glance up at him leaning against the doorway, you finish plating up his Teishoku and serve them, you place it on the kitchen island in front of you. “Coffee sir-? I mean Toji..” You say softly, fumbling over your words but correcting yourself.

Your words irked him like nothing else, you were so nice to him. He loathed it. What made you so kind in the face of someone like him? “Quit this 'sir' bullshit.” He was trying to play it cool, his eyebrows slightly raised as he spoke. Internally he was confused by your ongoing kindness, you were like this from day one. He didn't like the fact that he had to work around your kindness.

“I apologize. Bad habit.” You let out a nervous chuckle, trying to ignore the burning green gaze zeroing in on you. Your expression was trying to hide the fact that you were uncomfortable with his presence. Toji was a little more than impressed by how you were handling him like this still. After all, most people would be scared shitless already.

As you hand him his coffee, Toji notices the band-aids on your fingers. The skin looked red and brittle and it made him raise an eyebrow. “What happened to them? And don't say 'nothing' or 'it's nothing.” Toii muttered under his breath, trying to distance himself but still be curious at the same time.

“Oh, I burned myself by accident, the stove was too hot.” You respond a little curtly, turning your back and starting cleaning up and clearing away. It was clear you didn't want to talk about it, the real reason was rather daunting as Naoya Zenin threatened to break your fingers because you didn't do a task correctly.

Toji watched with intent simmering eyes as you turned your back to him. The first thing was that your reasoning behind it was obvious bullshit. You were lying through your teeth but quite frankly he didn't car enough to pry even further. "You're really clumsy, aren't you?”

Your shoulders relax as you sigh out, thankful he wasn't reading into it. “I am...I am. ..quite clumsy.” You breathe out.

You both know damn well you were the opposite but for now, it'll do. You turn around and take his empty tray once he finishes eating, giving him an agreeable smile. “Your training starts soon.”

Toji raised his eyebrow as an unamused look was engrained on his face. Why was his rudeness not affecting you in any way? Maybe you weren't listening to a thing he said, which made him even more annoyed. So he decided to try another approach. He just...didn't like how you...talked to him. “Can you stop being so polite to me? I never understand why servants are like this to their masters. Just do your job and stop acting like this.” He grunted.

You turn around and glared at him, annoyed that he didn't realize that you’re just doing your job. Anything less than perfection and obedience would be punished. But then again...who the hell were you to argue with a Zenin? “If that's...what you prefer.” You shrug your shoulders. You thought maybe he would appreciate some form of kindness considering the way his family actively despised him.

“Good...because there's no reason to be nice to me when I'm anything but.” He warned me you lowly. Toji was expecting you to break and lash out at him. Yet your reaction and expression left him feeling a little off-put. Why? Why weren't you saying anything? Why aren't you letting him walk all over you? He didn't like those thoughts.

Reluctantly, you nod your head, lips thinning into a straight line, and you try to stay as neutral as possible. If this is what he wanted, who the hell were you to argue? After finishing cleaning the kitchen, you make a move to leave the room. As you made your way to leave, Toji couldn't help but notice that your back was as straight as an arrow. Your body looked so proper and elegant, unlike others. Just your simple back in that tight-fitting kimono was enough to make him stare a few moments longer than necessary. That's when he called out to you and spoke with a neutral expression: “Do you always have to be so proper and respectful?”

Yet his voice was...softer.

You stop in your tracks. “I'm just doing my job.” You reply quietly, trying to get him to grasp that you're just doing what you're supposed to do. You walk away and leave him wordless from the kitchen, letting your words linger in his brain a lot longer than he should have.

-

pt 2 coming soon, get ready for angst and sexy times in the near future.

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji angst #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu toji #toji fluff

[fbfh]

Hello, a request please, how does Leo react if he discovers that his girlfriend (reader) is a minor goddess, daughter of Poseidon and host (Percy goes into brother mode)

disclaimer that I haven't read the kane chronicles yet and don't feel like I really know enough to write about that so this will be more focused on the whole minor goddess thing bc I LOVE this ask.

You're a minor - and very new - goddess, so most people haven't even heard of you. Your dad is poseidon, and your mom is a sweetbay magnolia dryad, so your dad ended up entrusting you to watch over the coast, and everyone who lives there. Anywhere the water meets the land is your domain. It's a pretty niche job, but you have fun quietly tending to the plants and animals, all the little otters and beavers and water birds. you especially loved the long island sound near camp half blood. eventually you asked your dad if you could stay there, pretend to be a normal teenager for a while. he thought of your brothers, Percy and Tyson, and decided that was a good idea. So he talked to Chiron and sent you over, informing Percy he has another half sibling. Even though it was a little rough at first, you bonded with him so fast, turning into the dynamic brother sister duo you'd both always hoped for.

then you met Leo.

He fell first, and he definitely fell harder. Leo has been enamored with you, practically drooling over you since day 1. Of course this really didn't do much to fix the occasionally tense relationship between him and Leo - if anything it exaserbated it more. You never really outright told Percy what you are, he just sort of... pieced it together over time. You were a little scared to tell him. You were scared of how he'd react, that he'd be mad at you for lying or hate you for what the other gods have put him through. You can still remember sitting at the bottom of the lake with him, watching the sun set from underwater.

"Percy, I need to tell you something. I just- I don't want you to be mad at me."

that got his attention.

"It's about- um- it's about me... who I am. What I am." You'd continued, the horrible knot in your stomach eating away at you, getting bigger and bigger. your pulse raced and your hands shook. He looked over at you, but you kept your eyes firmly on the surface of the water, glowing coral and green in the fading light.

"I know what you are."

he had said it so surely, your heart sunk.

"You're my sister."

you looked over at him, and he knew that if you were on the surface there would be tears prickling in your eyes. You sputtered something and he cut you off, his new york accent getting stronger as he felt a surge of older brother protectiveness through him.

"you're my fuckin' sister." You looked at him and saw everything else he wasn't saying. you're my sister, and that's it. I don't care what else you are, because I'm your brother and you're my sister and that's all I care about.

Ever since then you'd started feeling a little more comfortable about your status as a god. you didn't hide the way certain birds and animals would flock to you, or how just being near the water made all surrounding plants flourish. and eventually, with percy's unspoken support, you decided to tell Leo. You've been going out with him for long enough where you already know most of each other's secrets, and you just feel like it's time. You're walking along the coast, your hand entwined with Leo's warm one as he plays with your fingers.

"Did I- uh, did I ever tell you about my mom?"

You hadn't, and Leo's intrigued. He knows about your dad - hell, he's even met him once. But you never mentioned your mom. You start telling him about her and he listens with rapt attention.

"She's great with plants, too. She's, uh... a dryad, actually. Lives in a sweetbay magnolia tree."

You're quiet for a moment, hoping he'll put two and two together. You see a million thoughts and realizations and emotions flash through him so fast you'd miss it if you blinked. Then finally, he nods.

"So you're..."

"Yup." You say softly. "In charge of the coast. Where land meets sea."

A frog hops over to you and you smile, bending down and scooping him up. He puffs up his throat proudly, and you pet him a little. Leo watches you as you two continue to walk leisurely. The sun hits the water and the trees, basking you in a glittering light and soft shade at the same time. And it makes sense, he thinks. this little strip of land full of plants and animals, where you get your ankles splashed by the tide and get sand between your toes... you look at home here. And you are. Leo realizes that every time you've taken him on one of your little walks like this, you've been inviting him into your world without him even realizing it. it fills him with a sense of warmth and awe and gratitude like nothing he's experienced before. and in that comfortable silence, you know he has your back. Besides, he's sure Percy would kick his ass if he didn't.

#drabbles #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus drabbles #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez drabbles #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson drabbles #brother!percy #goddess!reader #child of poseidon #daughter of poseidon #I had to keep googling semiaquatic animals for this ask and all I could think of was the perry the platypus theme song #dooby dooby doowop

[chamomiletealeaf]

Johnny 'I'll fist fight you (affectionately) if you don't think you're pretty.' MacTavish

AHHH I LOVE THIS (might project in this one because I’ve recently been feeling ugly asf because of my Telogen Effluvium (stress induced hair loss)

Warnings: insecurity, mild suggestive themes at the end.

You’d be in the bathroom holding back tears while trying to do your hair for the date you were supposed to go on with your boyfriend Johnny. You can’t seem to get your hair right and it shows way too much of your face. Or so you think.

knock knock

“Can I come in bonnie? Wanna see how pretty you look.”

You sniffle and try to make your voice sound as convincing it can be.

“Um. Not yet! I- I’m not dressed!” You say hesitantly.

“Now I really wanna come in.” He says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice and you roll your eyes.

“C’mon, please? Wanna see my girllll.” He whines out and you give in.

“Ok fine. come on in.” You say, and he does.

He comes in the bathroom and smiles at you, even though your head is down, pretending to rummage through your makeup bag for something.

Johnny wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you in the mirror.

“Hey girlie.” He coos with a smile, but you don’t look up.

“Hey.. look up bonnie. Wanna see that pretty little face of yours.” He says as he goes to reach for your jaw with one hand and forces your head up so you look in the mirror.

His smile drops and his brows furrow when he sees the tear streaks and your puffy eyes.

“What’s the matter dovey?” He asks with genuine concern. “Why ya crying??” He turns you around so you face him and he looks at your face still, waiting for an answer.

“I- I don’t know I just… can’t get my hair right, my makeup isn’t blending well, I hate the way this sundress fits me, I- I just feel kinda ugly I guess.” You sniffle but drop your head down and look at your hands.

“Oh sweetheart…” Johnny coos.

“Look at me.” He says softly, and you don’t, so he lifts your chin up with his hand.

“I said look at me lass.” He says, still in a soft tone.

“You look absolutely gorgeous. Fuckin’ stunning. You could have your hair in all different directions, a bin bag on, and dirt smeared all over your face and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world.” He says, still holding your face.

“I think your hair looks beautiful, and your makeup too. I like the eyeshadow color you chose. Makes those pretty eyes that much more captivating as if they ever could entrance me any more. And this sun dress?”

A smirk begins to form on Johnny’s face as he turns you back around to face the mirror and he places his hands on your thighs and runs them up under your dress until they’re squeezing your hips.

“This dress was fuckin’ made for you. God you know how I love sundresses on you. You replace every star in the sky with just how much you shine my love.” He says into your ear and you sniffle again, but your lips twitch with a small smile.

“Now look in the mirror and say that you are the prettiest woman in the world.” He says, and you look at him.

“Johnny-“ you start, but he interrupts you.

“Ah- say it.” He demands.

You bite your lip for a second, cringing at what he wants you to say, because you don’t believe it. But you look at him and try anyway.

“Don’t say it to me. I already know. Say it to yourself.” He demands again, and grips your jaw again to look at yourself in the mirror and not at him.

“I- I am the prettiest woman in the world.” You mumble.

“Again.” He says.

“I am the prettiest woman in the world.” You say again, with more confidence, and your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“Aye- that you are bonnie.” He says, finally satisfied with your response.

“Now, let’s go out on our date hm? Wanna show everyone who my pretty little lass is.” He says into your ear as he squeezes your hips which makes you giggle as his facial hair tickles your skin.

“And when we get back?” He whispers lowly this time with a smirk, “I’m gonna prove to you again right between your thighs just how bloody fuckin’ beautiful you are.” He says, and you let out a little gasp which makes him laugh.

You forgot all about your insecurities with Johnny, because it was just you and him, and that’s all that ever mattered in the first place.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mw #cod #cod mw3 #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap cod #soap cod x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - IN LOVING MEMORY

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.9k] A week after John B and Sarah were lost at sea, you and JJ navigate a new living situation and unsuccessfully avoid the inevitable grief process, leading to a private memorial as you honor a fallen brother.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, grief avoidance

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I think these little 3-chapter pauses between each season are gonna be my favorite things because it focuses sooo much more on just TR and JJ <3 but this first one really focuses on their grief over John B

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

IT’D BEEN A WEEK SINCE JOHN B AND SARAH DISAPPEARED. Shoupe said that the department wasn’t calling the search off just yet but you knew they weren’t looking. There’d been no updates, no boats out on the water — it was as if the entire station had retired. 

Metal clanked against wood as JJ set the wrench down on the work table — music playing lowly in the background as the blonde worked on your car. The two of you were in John B’s Surf Shack at The Chateau, the car halfway pulled in so JJ could work outside of the heat, but the sun was relentless. The hood was flipped up as the boy inspected and toyed with the parts — sweat dripping down his forehead from his damp strands of hair, shirt long abandoned as he stood only in a pair of army green cargo shorts and his signature worn-down, unlaced combat boots, shark tooth dangling from his neck.

“Are you gonna keep staring or do you wanna help?” JJ asked, leaning his hands on the exterior of the car, eyes squinting from the sun as he looked up at your figure that was sitting on top of the worktable, feet swinging as you watched him.

“When I tried to help, you told me to, and I quote, ‘sit my unhelpful ass down somewhere’.” You reminded the boy, cocking your head as you took a sip of the beer you’d retrieved from the house. 

“Maybe because when I asked you to hand me the box end wrench and you handed me a pair of pliers?” He sassed back, standing from his leaned over position and walking closer to you, snatching up his own beer and taking a long swig. 

You shrugged. “Same difference.”

“Hate to break it to you, princess, but no it's not.” JJ chuckled, leaning against the work table. His eyes drifted down to where you were scratching your ankle as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I told you like ten times to stop scratchin’ it. It ain’t gonna help.” He reprimanded, setting the beer down and taking your ankle in his hands, leveling it in front of him.

You groaned as he swatted your hand away. “But it itches, so bad.” You whined. “Probably because you did it with a needle and pen ink.” You pouted, both of you inspecting the small, scraggly ‘P4L’ tattoo on your ankle. “How come yours doesn’t itch?” You asked, referring to the matching tattoo the blonde had done on himself.

“It does.” He told you, pulling out a small thing of vaseline from his shorts and scooping some up on one of his fingers. “I’m just not a pussy.” He joked, side-eyeing you as he gently applied the jelly over the artwork. 

Just then, Marley came running into the shack, almost knocking JJ off of his feet. You bursted out into a fit of laughter as the blonde steadied himself, staring down the dog. “You fuckin’ mutt…” He muttered, letting your leg swing back towards you gently. 

“Hey,” You warned, plucking his arm. “Watch it, or I’ll have her piss on your pillows.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He waved off, walking out of the shack and into the afternoon sun. "I'm takin' a breather from your piece of shit on wheels. That thing needs way more than TLC..." He told you over his shoulder. You quickly hopped off the table and followed after him, whistling for Marley to follow your lead.

"Don't blame my car because you have the skills of a mechanic from Craigslist." You defended as JJ led you all the way down to the boat pier behind The Chateau, both of you sitting down on the wood, kicking off your shoes to let your toes hit the water. Marley laid down behind you two.

He chuckled lightly before you fell into silence. That’d been happening a lot lately. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. In the week you and JJ had been learning to live together at The Chateau, you’d grown to just sit in silence with him. Quiet mornings, lazy nights. Neither of you had to speak or force a conversation — just bask in the company of one another, knowing you still had someone. 

There were days like this — where things seemed almost normal, but only for a moment. But then it was as if you’d both simultaneously realize that nothing was normal and it probably never would be ever again, that realization never failed to cast a cloud over the atmosphere.

John B was gone. He wasn’t on another marathon from DCS, he wasn’t out cleaning boats to keep the lights on at The Chateau — he was just gone. And something inside of you felt so empty. Ever since you were kids, toddlers, it was always you, John B, and JJ. And even when you made each other mad or sad, you always came back together in the end.

Now, it was just the two of you. Sure, you had Kie and Pope but that was different. John B was their friend too but there was a deeper grief that they couldn’t understand. But JJ could.

“You remember, in third grade, when John B asked out that girl and she told him no ‘cause he had cooties?” JJ asked, a small smile on his features as he stared down at the water. You laughed, shaking your head.

“And when he tried to hug her she screamed and the teacher gave him a lecture about consent.” You laughed, looking up at the sun. “But maybe he needed it. I remember after, he apologized and shook her hand instead.”

“She still wouldn’t go out with him, though.”

“You wanna know something funny?” You asked, turning to face him as he looked at you. “I ran into her when I moved to Figure Eight. She lives on the lower end now. It’s so crazy because she ended up getting chlamydia from some guy and then passed it to his best friend.”

“Holy shit.” JJ laughed loudly, his bright smile on full display. You wished to see his smile like that more often. JJ usually tried to seem happy and carefree, but it was a sight to see when it was genuine. As his laughter died out, he had a look of contemplation on his face.

You nudged his shoulder to gain his attention. “What're you thinkin' about?”

He bit the inside of his cheek for a moment, eyes scanning your face. You didn’t know what for. Then he reached into the pocket of his shorts, hand fishing around for a moment before he pulled out something — a pastel green dog collar with a heart shaped named tag. He laid the object out in his grease covered palm and extended it over for you to see.

Your eyes fleeted between the collar and his face, a look of nervousness as he avoided your eyes. Taking it from his hand to hold in both of yours, you huffed out a laugh. There were ridges on the edges, as if the fabric of the collar had been hand-cut. “...Did you make this yourself?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” He dismissed, scratching the back of his neck and attempting to seem nonchalant about the gesture. “I wasn't doing shit, got bored. If you, uh, if you turn it over-” You wasted no time, flipping the name tag to the other side, eyes landing first on the ‘if lost, please call…” note then drifting lower to see ‘P4L’ engraved in the metal beneath your phone number.

“Um, yeah that.” JJ finished. “It’s honestly nothing. It's fine if you think its stupid, I just figured-”

He never got to finish his nervous rambling as you pulled the boy into a hug. His arms staggered before hugging you back, going around your waist and almost pulling you into him. “Thank you.” You mumbled into his neck. "And it's not stupid. I love it." You could feel small tears leaving your eyes and making home on his sweaty skin, you just hoped he didn’t notice.

“Are you crying?” He asked, pulling back from the embrace and taking your face in his hands. “Oh, shit. Please, don’t cry.” He panicked, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks, leaving grease trails behind in their wake, the gesture making you chuckle sadly.

You don’t know what made you cry. You hadn’t cried in a full week. “Sorry, sorry...it's just that everything is so messed up.” You sniffed. “I wish I could go back to last year. Before my dad died, before all that shit with Rafe, before my mom became someone else, before John B...” You choked out, trying to remove your face from his hands but he wouldn’t let you. “If finding the gold means losing the only people I have left one by one, then fuck it.”

“We don’t know if he’s, y'know.. they’re still looking-”

“No, they’re not.” You scoffed. “They just don’t want to tell us that. Because if they do, they know we’ll start looking for ourselves and they’ll have four more dead kids on their hands.” You doubted, struggling to hold back more tears. JJ simply used his hold on your face to pull your head into him. Something about the gesture made you burst out into sobs, muffled by his chest. Most people would find such a genuine, serious gesture from JJ Maybank odd or rare. But in all your years of knowing him, JJ understood emotions better than most people, he just lacked the ability to show them sometimes.

He was there when they found your dad’s body, all of your friends were. The police only let you through because you were his daughter but when the wind blew the tarp off of his bloated, pale body, JJ was the only one who threw all caution to the wind and ducked under the caution tape, weaved through like ten police officers and caught you before you fell to your knees in the sand.

JJ was one of the most empathetic people you knew, but he’d never cater to his own needs as much as he did for others.

“I miss him, too.” He said solemnly, taking a shaky deep breath. “Believe me, man.” He scoffed, but his voice wavered prompting you to lift your head to look up at him, sniffling. “Bree was my brother. I can’t even tell you how many times he was just there for me. He got me out of a lot of shit and I always gave him shit for it. He would always tell me he just didn’t want me to end up like my piece of shit father and I was always such a dick about it. I knew it was because he cared but I…” He sighed, wiping the stray tear that had fallen from his eye with the butt of his palm. “I just wish I had been a better friend. I know I get us into a lot of shit and I’m impulsive and-”

“You were a good friend.” You cut off his monologue of martyrdom, sitting up straighter to look at him directly, using one hand to cup the back of his neck as you spoke. “John B loved you. Yeah, he might’ve gotten a little pissed whenever you got all trigger happy-” You joked, eliciting a small laugh from JJ. “-But he always understood that’s just who you are. He always cared about you all the same. He would’ve done anything for you.”

“And now he’s…shit, he’s gone.” He sniffed, wiping under his nose as he avoided your eyes, a frown on his face. “And I don’t have anyone like that anymore.”

“You have me.” You smiled pitifully. “I may not be a six-foot, brunette male who's oddly obsessed with bandanas but I think I can fill his spot. Make it work, somehow.” You joked playfully.

JJ scoffed, shaking his head. “Nah, you have your own spot.” He told you, his blue eyes finally finding the courage to meet yours again. “No one could replace Bree. Or you. You were the two people I never wanted to lose in life. And now he’s gone and I don’t know what I’m feeling or what the fuck to do about it because I’ve never felt it before. And sure, I want to fight for him and get the gold back but now I’m scared that that might mean we lose someone else and I don't know what I’ll do if the person we lose is you.”

You shook your head, pressing your forehead against his. “You’ll never lose me. Even if I’m not here.” You reminded, fingers scratching at the hair on the nape of his neck. “And even if John B is gone gone, he’s still here. Probably telling us to grow a pair, right now.” You chuckled despondently, both of you somewhere between laughing and crying.

All of a sudden, a wet, rough tongue hit the side of both of your faces — Marley apparently feeling left out from the exchange. The action had the two of you pulling apart, shielding your faces from the attack of dog kisses. She was like a light, her typical high energy making you feel just a little less sad inside. “Alright, alright…” You said, lightly pushing the dog back as she panted and wagged her tail so fast it made her whole body wiggle.

Just then, you realized you still had JJ’s gift clutched in your palm, peering at the object before beckoning Marley to come closer and commanding her to sit. She was still panting, mouth open and tongue out as you buckled the collar around her neck, adjusting it to fit and spinning it so the heart tag sat where it was supposed to, her name engraved in JJ’s handwriting.

As soon as your hands were off of her, she turned her attention to JJ, burying her head in his lap and rolling over on her back, wanting the blonde to rub her stomach. It was like she knew he’d made it for her.

“She must like you.” You said, voice a bit scratchy now. 

JJ shrugged, caressing the animal’s stomach with a small smile on his face. “I guess she’s alright.” He trailed off playfully. You admired them for a moment, the sight making your nerves settle in a way they hadn’t been able to in the last seven days.

For a moment, everything was calm. This was peace.

“Hey, JJ?” You piped up, the boy’s eyes leaving the dog as he looked at you in a questioning manner. “I know we’re waiting on Kie and Pope to actually memorialize JB but would you want to do something, just me and you? Not to leave them out or anything, I just thought we could, I don’t know, mourn him differently. He was a part of us.”

He pondered on the idea for a moment before nodding. “Yeah… yeah, I think he’d like that.”

You simply nodded in response, getting up from the dock to go into The Chateau, not even bothering to put your shoes back on. Entering the house, you looked around for something that sparked an idea on how you could honor John B. You spotted an empty glass bottle — write a note and send it out to sea? No. That didn’t seem right. 

Still looking around, your eyes found two tealight candles on the coffee table, untouched and never lit. You hadn’t recalled them being there before. Picking up the two candles in one hand, you headed back outside, the sun beginning to set and casting an orange hue over the water in front of you the closer you got to JJ and Marley.

Sitting back down, you handed one of the candles to JJ. “Just something small.” You told him, the blonde taking the small candle from you and reaching into his pocket to retrieve the lighter he typically carried with him. Marley had her head in his lap, less energetic than she was just minutes prior. Her big, puppy eyes just watched the two of you light the candles as the sun got lower in the sky by the minute.

“Should we, like, say something before we let them go?” JJ asked, eyes on you. 

“It’s up to you.” You shrugged. Just then, Marley got up from his lap, running through the grass and to the trees. You didn’t bother to chase her, she always came back.

JJ’s fingers of his free hand drummed on his thigh as he thought. When he finally had something, he shifted his weight and held the candle carefully in his hand. “To Bree.” He started, voice shaking. “My best friend, my brother, and the unluckiest guy I’ve ever met. I promise to not pimp your shortboard.” He said, looking at the flame swaying from side to side, before looking at you, waiting for you to say something.

Your nerves jumped a bit, not really knowing what to say. You figured something was better than nothing. “To John B. One of my greatest friends, my trauma twin, and the best DCS fugitive I’ve ever met.” You spoke, looking out at the sunset. 

“Love you, man.” JJ finished, reaching his long arm down to gently set the candle on top of the water, watching it slowly drift away. You followed his lead, having to bend down a bit further to let the candle hit the water safely. Both of you sat silently, watching the two miniscule flames drift further out with the waves. You wondered how far they would make it before they went out.

Suddenly, the patter of paws came running back, Marley wedging her way between the two of you with a stick between her teeth. The dog got dangerously close to the edge of the pier you were sitting on before letting the stick drop from her jaws and hit the water, sitting down between you and JJ as she panted.

You heard about cats leaving gifts for people of significance, maybe this was her version of a candle. The action made you and JJ look at each other before laughing and hugging the dog in sync. She reveled in the attention, tail wagging ferociously.

You and your friends had a long way to go before anything would feel okay again. But just having each other was enough, right now. You couldn’t rush grief. You’d just have to let things take their course and hopefully one day, John B wouldn’t be such a sad memory.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; (let me know if you'd like to be added!) @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm @i-love-ptv @liability28 @rivaiken @sophiahristov @rafxcameronss @ldrvinyl @purplerose291 @boo22sstuff @heartsforandrewgarfield @coolgirl458 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @jujubeaz @ellobruv (striked means i'm unable to tag you!)

©loveharlow.

#jj maybank x reader #svn #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #obx jj #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank angst #SoundCloud

[wtftarot]

PAC: The Sun

The Sun stands as the counterpart to the Moon. Representing clarity, the Sun leaves nothing in shadow. It speaks of blessings and growth. What do you need to learn from the Sun today? Let's fuck around and find out.

As always this reading is meant for entertainment purposes only and is not a substitute for professional advice in any way. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Masterlist

Pick the Sunflowers, the Kid or the Horse and head on to your reading.

The Sunflowers page cups Rx, Justice, 7 swords, the Fool, three cups, the hierophant Rx, temperance rx

A lot of things are lookin hazy for y'all, huh group one? The energy here is super interesting. First, y'all are entering an era that will redefine what you think it means to have a balanced life. You'll figure out what it means for you specifically. Which is awesome but that's not the focal point of your reading. There's something here that feels very sneaky, not in a harmful sorta way, more like a heist. It's like you're heisting yourself back. I fuckin love that. I think y'all may have lost yourself or a part of yourself somewhere along the way. The cards aren't saying how or why, which I feel is significant. While whatever happened had its impact, it's so much less important than this, than you, finding yourself again. Now you're scheming and plotting ways to get yourself back and it's beautiful. There's so much excitement and joy here. You may still have to hide them because of circumstances outside of your control but you're not burying them. You should feel absofuckinlutly no shame about it, fyi. You had to adapt, that's all. Now though, you are plotting and planning yourself towards a life that you don't have to adapt yourself to. The clarity you're getting is clarity of self. Things in your life feel a little hazy and off because they kinda are. You only "fit" your life as it is now because you lost those parts of yourself. Things were always 'off'. You edited yourself to what the situation called for. So, as you find yourself, you won't 'fit' the roles in life you used to. You're stepping into a life that gets you. A life where those parts of you are celebrated. Moving forward you may not get many satisfactory answers from sources outside of yourself on what to do. That's cause this is a time where you are creating the answers. You may find yourself doing a lot of inner-child work in the next few months. Deconstructing outdated teachings, or just seeing through bullshit you once thought to be true. Your awareness of when you are or are not acting in favor of your true self is being heightened. Now, this all feels like the inner-shift that has to happen before the external changes. So, you may wanna seek out some alone time or journal your thoughts cause I'm willing to bet you'll be having some epiphanies or ah-ha moments. This is awesome, babe. It's gonna be beautiful to see.

random ass vibes: Cats, 8,888, the wizard of oz, My Chemical Romance, shout out to all y'all with adhd/autism. religious upbringing? Red, "you can't buy happiness- steal it", goldenrod, something about acrylic nails? first time getting them? owls.

The Kid

The Sun rx, Nine of Swords Rx, Four of Cups Rx, Page of Wands, Knight of Cups, Eight of Wands Rx, Nine of Wands Rx, King of Swords Rx

This reading was interesting as hell to do. The short version is: Y'all are intuitive, you're just not letting yourselves simply BE intuitive. You try to force things or second-guess others and it's fucking you over. 

There is a message that you may be spending too much on different divination tools when you don't need them. This reading is cool and frustrating. I had to walk away from your cards because every time I tried to read them, the message was muddled and contradicting itself? I'm writing this a day later because now that I'm not trying to force it, it's flowing like the goddamn Mississippi. I didn't even plan to get back to your reading yet. It's like 6,7 am? I was just drinking my coffee and the reading became clear. Which is the whole ass point of your reading. Everyone has different intuitive psychic skills and different skill levels but if y'all chose this group? Y'all are pretty fuckin psychic. Or you could be if you got over some self-doubt and shit. When I said you're not letting yourselves be intuitive, I mean you may be relying too much on divination tools and signs instead of your intuition. You can strengthen your intuitive gifts, and learn to interpret them more accurately but you can't force it. It seems like you've become so focused on trying to pick up on things psychically, that you're not even living in the moment anymore. Which leads us to the other side of this coin. When you're determined to know and see more when there's nothing there, you can start to take your anxieties for hits cause they're the only thing you got. It's sorta like how when you're looking into a dark space, and you start seeing things that ain't there. Which understandably makes you freaked out, then when the anxieties don't come true you doubt yourself cause your "intuition" was wrong. Truth is not everything is a sign or a hit. Sometimes a number's just a number and a bird's just a bird. A bad feeling in your gut is just your gut feeling bad. Truth also is sometimes true psychic hits are kinda dumb, most of the hits I get regularly are just my cat needing something. It's okay if your intuition is just when produce is on sale. You ARE psychic. You're also human. All of this is confusing and that's okay. We're always confused until we figure things out. This all came out with the Sun in reverse because y'all expect your intuition to be clear the way your other senses are clear. You're looking outside of yourself for something that dwells inside of you. The advice here is to learn to trust your inner instincts. I keep hearing "Play psychic games". Scry out what animals you're going to see the next day. Try to intuit what suit a card is before you turn it over. Being psychic isn't (always) foreshadowing doom, it can be super fun. Try to get readings on non-serious topics. Let your intuition flow and play.

y'all have no random ass vibes because you need to stop relying on external confirmation of your intuition.

The Horse

This reading may be triggering, I'm not sure if feelings of not deserving love are a trigger but just to be safe. If you struggle with depression, anxiety, or the like please seek professional help. I'm just a chick with a computer and a deck of cards. Remember, don't do anything to compromise your safety.

I took some time between readings, and leading up to your reading horses kept popping up everywhere. I knew this reading would be different. I did pull some cards, but they feel unnecessary because y'all's guides are just talking to me. Why are y'all so convinced you won't get a happy ending? Mind out of the gutter, please. Thank you. You seem to be utterly convinced that you will never have a solid, safe, joyful life? "None of that is for me" is what I keep hearing. It's like there is one way to be happy, one sort of life that leads to happiness, and if you do not conform to that you're just doomed to die alone in squalor? There's this energy of I cannot do things my way and be happy. I can't be myself and loved. I just heard " I don't get to.." As in I don't get to be myself. I don't get to be loved. I don't know who made you feel that way but they better fucking hope I never see them. Or better yet, hope that future you never meets them. Cause sweetie, this reading? It's about your comeback. And HOLY FUCK YALL THIS WILL BE A HELL OF A COMEBACK. There's this overwhelming feeling of happy, unbridled defiance rearing its head in you. If you haven't felt it yet, you will soon babe don't worry. This may just be a heads-up. Defiance in the face of every fucking thing that makes you feel like you'll never get what you want. SPITE. That's what yall are embracing. I FUCKING LOVE THIS ENERGY YALL. SPITE IS MY ENTIRE LIFE PHILOSOPHY. This may be sort of a "villain era" for you. You're gonna be spitting in the face of everything that made you feel like you'd never be enough. YOU ARE ENOUGH. I want to be clear, you're not going to wake up and suddenly be immune to all the bullshit you've been told. You are however going to wake up and decide to live in defiance of what people have told you. That's why it'll feel sort of villainous, you may not feel like you deserve happiness (yet, give it time). BUT is 'deserving" it going to stop you? HELL NO! This is giving happiness is the best revenge. Those fuckers saying you can't be you and loved? They're gonna have to sit and WATCH YOU. And you get the pleasure of shoving your success, your happiness DOWN THIER FUCKING THROATS. Sometimes, you have to move towards things before you feel deserving or ready, so you can learn to feel deserving and ready. It's gonna take some work and strategizing, (y'all may wanna chat with some of the people in group one) I am so fucking pumped for y'all. If y'all don't feel this energy yet, you will soon I promise. In the meantime, maybe make a happy-upbeat revenge/spite playlist. Cause above all, this is about being HAPPY.

Random ass vibes: Danger Days, snakes, cats, 666, y'all may wanna look up Hopepunk, zombies,

#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a pile #wtftarot #the sun

[bumblesimagines]

i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all. let's set some ground rules. so… how do we do this? Sarah Cameron

i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all.

let's set some ground rules.

so… how do we do this?

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

and so the sequel becomes a holy trinity

Sarah Cameron was a pretty girl. Everyone knew it, whether they acknowledged it with awe, envy, or lust, everyone knew the Cameron genes worked like magic. The button nose, the full lips, the sun-kissed skin, the luscious hair that was a mix of blonde and brown strands, the dark brown eyes. The talk of the town, the pretty princess of Figure Eight, the beloved darling of the Cameron family. Sarah Cameron had no business being in the Cut. Hell, she had no business hanging out with JJ's troublemaking friends. She had no business seeking him out, and no business lying in the bed of a Maybank. Funny how the world worked, (Y/N) thought. 

Maybanks and Camerons weren't supposed to mix. They were from two different worlds. And yet...

Between the altercation between JJ and their father and Barry's rage over being jumped and robbed, (Y/N) had an ever-growing headache. He found himself glad JJ had beaten their father into near silence and fucked off before (Y/N) could get home, although he'd left him to patch their father up and deal with quiet, angered mutterings. His father luckily seemed either too exhausted or too drunk to bother him much, leaving him to spend his free day in his room listening to music while he gathered the will to get a Tylenol and step out into the world. He could use a drink or two or three. Maybe he'd stop by a bar and listen to Barracuda Mike's tales about his international dealings until the alcohol knocked him unconscious. 

Following in Daddy Dearest's footsteps. Typical.

His father staggered into the doorway, slamming his fist twice against the old wooden door with a sneer. (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat and he tentatively paused the music, eyeing the subtle way his father swayed from side to side. Nobody could make him revert to childhood like Luke did, back when he'd cradle a crying JJ while JJ's mom and Luke got into screaming matches over one thing or the other. "Mind tellin' me why the hell there's a Cameron standin' on our goddamn porch? I don't want no problems with Ward, (Y/N)." 

"Jesus," (Y/N) exhaled, pulling the earbuds from his ears and standing up. "Which Cameron, Dad? The idiot or the chick?"

"The chick." Fuckin' Camerons. Fuckin' Sarah. "If Ward catches wind of his little girl strutting aroun' here half-naked-"

"What are you even talking about?" (Y/N) tossed his phone aside and sucked his teeth, slipping past his father and hearing those familiar heavy footsteps follow him to the front door. Sure enough, there stood Sarah Cameron, her head tilted out toward the marsh and arms folded over her bare stomach. Christ. 

"I want no problems. Understood, boy?" Luke hissed in his ear, moving past him and sparing the blonde a glance before he walked toward his truck. (Y/N) inhaled deeply and ran a hand over his face, finding relief in the fact his father coincidentally needed to head into town under the guise of an errand, when they both knew Luke only ran 'errands' when he needed a hit of something strong. Probably needed something to take his mind off the bruises on his face. 

"I shouldn't have to explain why showing up here, on the Cut, dressed in a bikini top and shorts is a shit idea, Sarah." 

"I was going to the beach with some- whatever, it doesn't matter. I... I wanted to talk about the other day, alright? You know, when you basically yelled at me-" 

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Next time, instead of showing up, you get my number from one of the Pogues and you text me, alright? The guys my dad hangs out with call girls like you jailbait, Sarah. They're sleazy fucks who couldn't care less about where you come from." (Y/N) huffed, but regardless, he pushed the front door open enough for her to step inside, eyes following the cloud of dust left behind by his father's truck as it sped down the road. 

The Maybank's home was hardly anything to look at but (Y/N) managed to keep it clean, at least whenever Hurricane Luke didn't pass through. The general upkeep, and frankly everything else, fell on his shoulders with JJ gone half the time and Luke too intoxicated to care about the world around him. Just about every piece of furniture was old, passed down from Maybank to Maybank without so much as a repair or restoration. At the very least, trying to fix the broken things at a young age had given him some pretty decent skills. He couldn't do much about the holes in the walls and doors, though. 

"It's my day off, Sarah. I'd like to spend it without stressing over any of the bullshit that's been going on the past couple of days, 'kay? Say your piece and go off with your boytoy, princess. I want to have a beer in hand by noon so make it quick." (Y/N) sat back on the armrest of the worn couch, crossing his arms and watching the girl study her surroundings. Sarah slipped her tote bag off her shoulder and set it on another seat, leaning back against the barely used dining table. Great. Definitely wasn't going to be quick.

"I didn't appreciate you getting in my face, for starters. It was rude and unnecessary and I wasn't even given a chance to explain our side of the story. We found the gold in the Crain house and we went to your job thinking you were there. You weren't, obviously. The old lady and Barry were and they set us up. Barry held us at gunpoint and tried robbing us. We defended ourselves. JJ went rogue and robbed Barry. We told him not to." Sarah kept her arms crossed as she spoke, finishing with a light shrug and slightly jutted lips. "I'm not a thief and I'm not a liar, either. I wanted to set the story straight." 

"You could've found diamonds or emeralds or rubies in that old ass house, and I still would've been pissed about this treasure hunt continuing. Big John is dead and you know how he died? Treasure hunting. John B wants to die like his dad? Fine by me. I stopped liking him a long time ago. But JJ? The idiot that I spent my whole life raising? I'm gonna make sure that little shit dies of old age. If you want to merrily march into danger with Routledge, fine, go for it. Keep my brother out of it."

"Why do you keep bringing JB up as if I like him? I already told you John B isn't my boyfriend. He's my friend, and yes, I care about him. I-I want to see him happy and that's why I'm helping him but-"

"Is that the only reason you're helping him?" (Y/N) asked, rising from the armrest and taking slow steps toward the blonde. Her brows lifted slightly and her lips twitched, slowly curling upward into that little smile despite how much she tried resisting it. She looked away from him defiantly and clicked her tongue, eyes trailing back toward him.

"Are you suggesting I became friends with John B just to see you? Quite the ego you've got, Maybank. I said I liked you, not that I'm obsessed with you." Her voice softened, laced with playfulness and a hint of mischief, her previous irritation (if she'd even been irritated to begin with) long gone. 

"I was gonna say you wanted to piss off Carrera but if that's the first thing that came to mind..." He trailed off, hearing her scoff in soft disbelief before she swatted at his shoulder halfheartedly. She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips slightly, peering up at him through her dark lashes. 

"You're a dick." She murmured, not nearly as offended as the last time she'd uttered those words.

"Yeah," He dipped down slightly, hands finding the back of her thighs and fingers digging into the warm plushness of her skin. Her hands landed on his shoulders, soft giggles leaving her as he lifted her onto the table, the wood creaking softly under the added weight. One hand slid up from his shoulder and curled around his neck, the tip of her nails slightly scraping against his skin. Sarah's skin flushed. "And the sky's blue."

"But what else is new, right?" Her lips stretched out into a smile before she leaned in, pressing them against his as his hands moved from her thighs to her hips, half his palms pressing against her skin and the other half against her denim shorts. He pulled her closer until she'd gone flush against him, her legs wrapping loosely around him. Her arm curled around his shoulder and her head tilted to the side, a muffled, flustered giggle leaving her when his teeth lightly dug into her bottom lip. His hand moved and pressed flat against her exposed back, trailing upward until his fingers found the bottom straps of the olive green bikini. With one swift tug, they went undone. 

There was a dizzying aspect to making out with a Cameron, he'd come to realize. Maybe it was the knowledge that her father could be considered one of the most influential men on the island or that his life could change for better or worse with just a word from her. It was an intoxicating feeling if he had to be honest. Sarah seemed to feel similarly considering her fingers dug into him and pulled him as close as possible, her breath escaping her in soft pants. She leaned back briefly and pulled her hands away, dipping them under her hair and undoing the straps keeping the bikini on her. She tossed it aside blindly and mushed their lips together again, arms coiling around him and body slightly lifting itself onto him. His hands returned to her thighs and he lifted her again, letting muscle memory kick in as he found his way back to his bedroom.

He really needed to stop hanging out with the Pogues. They were messing with his judgment.

At the very least, he'd spent his free day doing something fun, even if regret began to dig into his back. He was a Maybank. He lived up to the asshole playboy part of his family's reputation 'cause there was nothing better than messing around to take the stress off, but he never enjoyed toying with someone's heart. He'd made a rule in middle school after his first heartbreak to never knowingly get involved with anyone who actually liked him. The first time with Sarah hadn't broken that rule but now... 

"Can I ask what we are or will that ruin your mood?" Sarah's voice piped up, her lips dragging lightly over his shoulder. His fingertip ran up and down her spine, feeling the goosebumps along her skin while he stared at the ceiling. It felt grounding to have weight pressing him against the bed, even if it was Sarah Cameron of all people. 

"I just like having sex with you sometimes. That's all." He answered and she shifted, hands planting themselves on either side of his head and body lifting itself up slightly. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders, the ends tickling his cheek. 

"Sometimes?" She repeated with an arched brow. "You want to do this more often?"

"You're not bad for a virgin." He murmured. 

"Not one anymore, remember?" 

"Yeah, I remember." His hand moving along her back dipped under the covers that'd pooled around her hips, squeezing the skin hiding underneath. She flushed immediately and lowered herself back onto him, burying her warmed face in his neck and huffing. "You were pretty loud-"

"Okay." She groaned and lifted her head again, her reddened cheeks puffed out slightly. "So… how do we do this? Have you done this before?"

"Yeah, until she and I had a pregnancy scare. It was enough to make us block each other." (Y/N) answered, pushing himself up slightly and against the wall behind his pillows. Her legs tangled around his further, and her eyes widened at the revelation. "Let's set some ground rules. I'm going to give you my number and you'll use it whenever you want to see me. If anyone asks, it's just to keep in touch about JJ. Routledge probably thinks you've got the hots for him so I'd prefer if you didn't tell him or Thornton. Let those two go at each other. If you want to be spontaneous like today, you bring protection. I really don't need a little bastard running around right now." 

"I've been on birth control since freshmen year. Rose insisted on it."

"Good for you. My mom was on it when she decided to fuck around and find out and here I am now." He raised his brows at her. "Anyways... don't get your hopes up for anything, Sarah. I mean it. If you don't think you can handle it, that's fine. We're supposed to be having fun, not getting hurt by disappointment."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #the outer banks #outer banks #outer banks x you #outer banks x reader #outer banks x y/n #outer banks x male reader #obx #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n #obx x male reader #sarah cameron #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron x you #sarah cameron x male reader #luke maybank #jj maybank #obx x maybank!reader #sarah cameron x maybank!reader

[tw1l1te]

Can I request NSFW with Four?

YES.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, some fluff

~

Assisting in the Forge wasn't easy work, which you were expecting. Despite traveling with the Chain, you helped out in the shop whenever you were back in Four's Hyrule, as you could both repair any broken weapons faster and get some extra rupees for the Chain.

It was nearing the end of the day, the sun setting over Castle Town steadily. You were exhausted, you burnt your hands at least twice today and spent over three hours separating metals into boxes.

Washing your hands in the sink, you sigh for what felt like the umpteenth time today. You hear the creak of the door, signaling that Four came back from talking to a customer or the head Blacksmith.

Turning around, you smile at him as you dry you hands on the apron, hands still covered in soot, dirt, or whatever other dust that never seemed to leave your skin, no matter how much soap and water you used.

"All good?"

"Yeah. Somebody was just picking up an order they had placed a few weeks ago. All done with work?"

You sigh, "Yeah, uh, just let me put away a few tools and we can head back to the others. We leave tomorrow, so should we bring our supplies back to everyone tomorrow, or...?"

Four shrugs, "Eh, we can just stop by tomorrow morning before we leave, that way we won't have to drag like... fifteen swords and cleavers..."

You laugh, turning back to the table in front of you, taking the cloth hanging from your apron to wipe down the range of tools. It was therapeutic, in a way.

You hear Four's breathing behind you, piquing your interest at his sudden quiet demeanor. Not taking your eyes of your task, you ask, "What's up, baby?"

You feel his hands on your waist, slightly squeezing your plush hips. He's not quite tall enough to place his chin on your shoulder, so he leans his forehead against the top of your back.

"Mm, just miss you."

You chuckle, "I'm right here, I've been with you all day."

"You know that's not what I meant."

You frown in confusion, turning around to face him, "What do you-oh. Oh."

His hands were on either side of your hips, eyes unqavering from yours. They seemed hungry, yet soft, for you.

You bite your lip, averting his gaze, "Why don't we-uh, let me finish up real quick and we can head back to the inn... back to my room."

He just gives you a slow, sensual kiss on your lips.

Alright then.

~

"G-gah! Four wait-"

"I've been waiting all fuckin' day, Princess."

He pushes you onto the bed, your hair splaying out around you like a halo. Like a goddess, he thinks. He sits on you, kissing under the shell of your ear, nipping the lobe lightly. His hands never leave your form, tugging at your top.

"Even with soot and dirt on you, you look perfect. Like you were made for me, baby."

You keen at his praises. Something about the way he praised your very existence made you more in love with him.

"Four, I need-"

"What, baby? Use your words."

"Mm- more. Please!"

He chuckles darkly, hands coming under your top and slipping it off of you, tossing it behind the two of you. He takes both of your breasts in his hands, squeezing the soft mounds. He brushes his thumb pads over your nipples, the roughness from smithing leaving a delicious texture.

"F-fuck. That feels so good, Four."

"I can tell, Princess. Take of your pants for me, you know I love it when you're bare f'me."

Under his piercing gaze, you slip off your leggings, his hands immediately latching onto your flesh once the pesky fabric was gone. He kisses his way down your body, sucking lightly at your skin every so often.

He noses your clothed heat, eyes locked onto yours. He then licks your heat, eyes watching your face. You try to keep yourself composed, but a whimper escapes your throat.

A dark chuckle leaves his throat, "Aww, that was so cute. Let's see how many more of those you can do for me, Princess."

#twilite answers #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe au #linked universe headcanons

[fairy-hub]

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢; “𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭” & “𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! brat!reader, outdoor sex, teacher/student, soft knife play (no cutting or blood), sanemi is rude af but still soft spot for you he will deny having, light praise (he can't help it you're gorgeous babe), light spanking

Laying flat on the spongy moss with only your hands-free. Sanemi sits on your thighs, with a firm grasp on your hair, holding a knife to your neck. The submissive position is more of a turn-on than it should be. Clouding your thoughts with lewd fantasy.

He lightly drags the knife across your neck. "You're dead I win!" You moan, sucking in a shaky breath. You're about to explain yourself when Sanemi drags the knife's tip down your side.

He grinds his cock on your squishy cheeks. "You're wriggling so much, moaning like a bitch in heat underneath me." He pulls away, keeping your thighs pinned and slapping your ass.

You speak with your pussy, "Fuck me at knifepoint, use my cunt as your reward for winning. I can take it any way you want, need your cock." Heating floods your body, biting into your bottom lip. He drags the tip of the knife along the curve of your butt cheek.

Sanemi slips the tip of the blade underneath your tight shorts. "Wouldn't that be a reward for you too?" He slices your shorts off. "Do you think you deserve this? After your piss-poor sparring job." Ripping your shorts off the rest of the way.

You furrow your brows, huffing, "I worked hard training! I'm getting better! Maybe a little encouragement to work harder would be a better way of teaching." You freeze when Sanemi glides the tip slowly between your wet lips.

He scoffs, "No panties for your beautiful wet slutty cunt?" He turns the blade flat, rubbing your clit. "Should have expected that from a perverted brat." Your hot cunt clenches from the cool metal.

One quick move from Sanemi is all it would take. But the utter trust you have in the man pinning you down prevents you from being scared.

You smirk. "Fuck it outta me then." Sanemi pulls the knife away, and seconds later he groans,

"You're lucky you taste so fuckin' good. I have something to do after this. "I want you naked on my bed with your legs open for me to bury my frustrations. We'll see who outlasts who." He moves to the side, rolling you over onto your back.

He stands up, pushing his baggy pants down. Your soaking wet cunt throbbing at the glorious sight of Sanemi standing naked in the light of the setting sun. His veiny, thick hard cock is wet with pre-cum.

"Your cock versus my sass might become my new favorite fight. But who knows you might not know how to use your fat cock." You spread your leg when Sanemi kneels in front of you. He grabs his cock, smacking your plush lips and fat clit.

Sanemi lines himself up, parting your wet lips, and nudging your clenching hole. "Right now, I don't give a fuck if you cum. If you cum, you cum, if you don't, not my problem." He grabs your left thigh, pinning it to your side with his weight.

He uses his strength Sanemi roughly ruts his hips forward into your tight soaking cunt. "I can see the beautiful face you make when cumming later tonight. Because I know you're going to want more." Your body jolts, your cunt clenching, Sanemi trembles above you, groaning,

"This isn't a reward for you. It's mine for having to put up with your annoying ass all damn day." Sanemi's pace is steady, yet harsh.

His cock head hitting your spongy cervix. "Shit you feel too damn good, going to make me cum too fast." Your sink your nails into his forearm, splaying your fingers on his sculpted abs. Which flexes beneath your palm with every quick, rough thrust.

You whine, "Fuck! Fuck!" You're scrambling to comprehend the intense, mind-breaking pleasure. Your toes curl from the delicious burn of your tight unprepared cunt stretching for his, fat cock.

He grabs the knife, slicing through your compressional top. "Scream louder for me, princess let the whole damn forest know you're getting fucked." Lightly pressing the knife's tip to your chin, Sanemi kisses your forehead.

"Say red I'll stop, take you to mine, and clean you up." He leans back, dragging the knife down your neck, over your collarbone. "You're doing so good taking my fat cock in your poor little cunt."

strawberry brat all works

#demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x you #kny x you #kny x y/n #demon slayer x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba x you #kimestu no yaiba #kimestu no yaiba x y/n #sanemi smut #sanemi x you #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi scenarios #demon slayer scenarios #kny scenarios #kimestu no yaiba scenarios #sanemi shinazugawa smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x you #shinazugawa sanemi

[aizawasbrazybaby]

❥𓂃𓏧 If you let me

𖦹Warnings: fem!reader, p in v sex, smoking, mentions of sex work, pet names (ex. Baby) , Dom!Yami x sub!Reader

𖦹Word Count: 1.4k

🫧: Hope everyone had a good new year🫶🏾sorry for the late post and any errors

Summaryᐕ Captain Yami walks in on the crews biggest prude trying to please herself…

“A bit scandalous, no?” you muttered.

Your eyes fixed on the figure in the mirror. A pink long sleeved shirt, that happened to be snug enough to accentuate your large breasts, wrapped your torso. Below, a white and pink plaid flounce skirt stopped inches above the knee.

“Scandalous my ass!” Vanessa shouted, “you’re a black bull not some fuckin child librarian it’s okay to show some skin. Live a little.”

Turning your back to the mirror you gasped quietly. Heat rushed to your face and just as swiftly your hands covered your ass that poked out too much.

“Absolutely not!”, you pressed your back to the mirror checking that none of the guys were around, “this is far to risqué! I need a cardigan better yet I’ll just put on my usual attire.”

Noelle scoffed with her arms folded tight, “the dark corduroys that make you look like an old hag not happening. You need to loosen up and stop being so modest.”

“M’not,” you said more to yourself.

“Really? You had us wait almost an hour when we took a trip to the beach last month because you didn’t want to put on a bikini,” Magna spat entering the room with Yami. His eyes roamed your body as he listened to his junior. By then your face nearly stung from the heat. You held onto your shoulders as if shielding your exposed breast from his hungry eyes. More self aware and self conscious than before.

“What Miss Vanessa had to offer was no more than a mere pile of jumbled up string and cloth patches not swim wear.” You spat through gritted teeth, “I would have stayed with the novels in my chamber if I knew this was what I was walking into.” Putting out an old cigarette the captain pushed the burning side into a black ashtray that had the logo. You stopped mid march back to your part of the hideout at his assertive tone. His words smashing bits of your heart.

“You could use an upgrade. You walk around here lookin like a grandma who gave up on herself. The least you could do is change your wardrobe.” Yami grunted with a chuckle. The whites in your eyes blackened as they narrowed in on him. With that he knew to drop the banter. Knowing there would be no financial benefit in having yet another “accident.”

“The hell do you know old man,” your voice was like venom.

The heavy door slammed behind you locking automatically. Your knees hit the floor of the bedside as a sob ripped through your body. Cries muffled as your face shoved into the mattress and your hands caressed the cotton sheets. Aching echoed in your chest as it always did when he made those snide remarks. Those stupid fucking jokes.

Too sensitive, too rule abiding, too by the book, too much of a goody two shoes to even notice

You were so sick of hearing it all but you couldn’t go back to the way you were. Before the Black Bulls. Before the grimoire. He knew what you were. The things you did to survive yet he still sang those hurtful words. At one point you were convinced he actually forgot about your past and why he really recruited you.

Tap tap tap

“Screw off!”

Yami was the only person to use his fingertips instead of knocking like any normal person would.

“Why do you always take shit so personal?” He sighed.

Silence.

“I know you’re in there, don't ignore me.”

Again there was nothing from your end.

“Speak or I’m coming in, that's an order,” he hand tightened around the door knob.

“Leave me alone captain,” you said hardly above a whisper. You didn’t bother lifting your head from the initial spot.

“I’m sorry.” A genuine apology. His footsteps echoed from your door down the hall until they disappeared behind his. It felt like hours passed by at lightning speed. The sun that once sat in a blue sky left it in a variety of pinks and orange. You dared to peek over your arm to adjust your vision to the lights in the bright room. The clothes you wore were cautiously peeled off.

Eyes gawked at the sight in the mirror. Wearing the borderline non-existent undergarments the girls gifted for your birthday. Cranberry red thongs made of pure silk with a matching push up bro that covered no more than the tip of your areola. There was only one way you knew how to drown the pain.

With pleasure.

Toys of different varieties, sizes and uses dropped on a pillow. Choosing two you lubed up the flame printed butt plug and inserted it. A low hum vibrated in your throat. Something you received from your favorite client. The sweet stretch reminding you of the first time Fuegoleon’s thick cock barreled its way into you. How he introduced you to anal play.

“Fuck,” you swore plopping down atop the clear dildo. Trying to remember how sex with another human felt. Imagining that it was Yami’s pretty cockhead you were screwing yourself on and not some stupid piece of silicone. Alas it didn’t work. Not this time nor last time or the time before that. Masterbation was a skill set you never mastered. As someone who used to get railed for money you relied on others to give you orgasms.

A growl of irritation rumbled in the room as the back of your head sunk in the pillow. Legs still spread wide open.

Why was it always so hard to please yourself?

You plunged the toy back in your pussy thinking of him, the captain's name spilling from your mouth repeatedly as the excitement pulled to your core. So close, your walls fluttered around the thing.

“Ready to talk-” Yami stood in the door frame wide eyed. His cigarette fell to the floor from between his lips. The door automatically shut behind him from any other onlookers. “Is this why…I heard you calling for me..”

Pure humiliation. That’s the only way to put it.

“Yami,” you searched your brain for words, “please.” He knew what you meant. Knew you’d been avoiding sex like it was the plague. Avoiding any man who showed you the slightest bit of interest. Knew you felt dirty for wanting to be touched.

“I can’t do it alone,” you whispered, “but I, Captain..”

“You did what you had to,” his fingertips trailed up your legs stopping between your thighs making you shudder, “it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

His fingers replaced the dildo and you swore for a minute you saw stars. Moans found their way out. “When I found you all bloody in that alleyway I knew I had to take you in,” his fingers made contact with that spot that had your eyes rolling back. And when his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, “I had to protect you.”

Your release was beyond shattering. Causing you to clench around his fingers, loosen up and clench once more.

“You deserve to be loved too,” his lips met yours as he climbed over you, “loved on.” He said lowly nipping at your ear.

“Yami..please,” was all you could muster. Hands unbuttoning his tented pants. His cock sprung to his belly button upon release. “Need you now.”

“I know baby I know,” he fixed himself between your legs thrusting inside you. Just sex you told yourself. He just wanted sex.

He didn’t.

It was always you he wanted. Got himself off too. Pictured bearing his offspring. Even if you did have an awful sense of style to blanket your promiscuous past.

He pulled back excruciatingly slow driving his hips back into you. “You feel so good,” he kissed your neck, “look so pretty.” He fucked into you harder and the sounds of your cries only confirmed he had you getting closer to cumming.

Yami threw your legs over his shoulders thrusting uncontrollably. Only slowing down when you tightened around his cock leaving your cream at the base of it. Rocking his body into yours until he pulled out sliding between your thighs as he nutted on your stomach.

His thumb grazed over your bottom lip. Blush pouring over his face and chest. You watched his lips move as he mumbled your name and your heart skipped a beat at what he said after.

“Yes.” You answered with a smile creeping across your mouth.

#black clover x black reader #black clover x poc reader #black reader #Yami x black reader #Yami x poc reader #yami x reader #black women #brown skin #dark skin #light skin #poc reader #black clover #captain yami

[sweetly-yours-and-mine]

Summary: Sunscreening each other

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader

Warnings: mentions of Marc's childhood, angsty because it's him but everything works out in the end

Word Count: 1.5k

“You’re putting too fuckin’ much of it on.” 

Marc doesn’t know how to tell you that the sunscreen is fine, that artificial sweet smell of it is beyond fine because you’d made sure to check it with him beforehand to giving him a headache. 

“If you’d hold still-”

Your touch is lighting every nerve he knew he had and every knew he didn’t have on fire. He craves it more and more and some stubborn thing inside of him is pressing out against his every desire to tell you to empty the whole damn bottle on him if it meant you’d keep your hands against him. 

“It’s too much!” 

With a huff you click the bottle shut and pull away from him. His sun-warmed skin goes cold as ice in the blink of an eye. 

“Do it yourself then, burn for all I care.” You lay down on the ground away, knock your sunglasses back on your face before going silent. 

Steven says something unimportant in the headspace and Marc groans in frustration, not knowing where he can start with the mess he’s made of this whole day at the beach he’d promised you. 

The most prominent thought in his head however, is that he wants you touching him again. He wants you to warm up sunscreen between your palms and smooth it all over his back and arms and legs. He wants more than anything for you to turn him on his back and rub your special sunscreen onto his face and neck and behind his ears. 

He wants more than anything to kiss you after that, or have you kiss him.

He wants your lips against his because sometimes they’re his only anchor into his own reality and he’s too scared to confess to you how much he’s grown to depend on you, that you’re the water to his roots and he craves you on the daily in ways he doesn’t understand himself sometimes.

This thing that had started to grow between you two was still new. 

He’s yet to have sex with you yet. 

He wonders if you would have let him rub sunscreen onto your legs had he not been so curt with you. 

He wonders if he’s managed to ruin this thing before it’s started. A record low for him that’ll get his ass handed to him by Steven. 

In many ways, you’d been too accepting of the system, of the past they carried around like a bulging sack of rocks they still haven’t learnt to fully let go of. It’s only been a few months that he’s started dating you, having taken you out to all the cliche spots he could think of, dinners and movies and mini-golf. 

But when he told you about Steven, Khonshu, the whole mess of a life he’d had after he left the townhouse on Milwaukee Avenue, he was expecting you to do anything else but to hug him and kiss his temple and apologise to him. 

You stayed in his life, and Marc still doesn’t understand for what and can only satisfy his own curiosity with the conclusion that you’re making a mistake with him. That you’ll come to realise this sooner or later, after he’s snapped at you enough times about things that seem trivial in your eyes and mean the world to him. After he can’t explain himself to you properly, the way he should have gotten anything else than what he’d been given when he was a child. 

More than anything, Marc is scared of losing you. Of losing you to the city and never bumping paths into you again. He thinks of how lucky he was when he first ran into you in that coffee shop you said you’d never gone to before and Marc was only going to because the shop closer to his place was closed for summer renovations. 

He doesn’t think he can manage such a stroke of sheer luck again. 

“Hey,” he mutters, not knowing where he needs to begin and where he should end. “Hey,” that same little unknown thing inside him sings out for your body and he presses his fingers against your arm before he’s managed to stop himself. 

To his surprise, you don’t flinch away, you don’t spit out bitterly, don't touch me. You barely move a muscle. Your eyes remain closed, your sunglasses not doing much to block away the relentless stream of sunlight spilling out across the beach. 

From behind him, a baby starts to giggle and gurgle. 

Marc’s struck by the first time his mother allowed him to hold Randall. How small his brother was, his eyes still sticky and impossibly dark. 

“What?” You’ve dropped the knives from your voice. The way you say it almost sounds like you’re thanking him for something but he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve that from you. 

He hadn’t prepared himself for such a situation, one where you weren’t completely revolted by his existence, one where you wouldn’t toss him back into the dark and dusty corner you’d found him in. 

“I-uh…sorry,” he stutters and fumbles over his words like the way he and Randall would over the rocks in the forest’s creek, their feet slipping into the water and soaking their sneakers down to their socks. “I-I…” 

With a sigh that rests on his shoulder, you sit up again, “Would you like it if I put sunscreen on your back?” 

His throat goes dry at your words, but that same fleshy, raw thing inside him sings out and he nods. You tell him to turn around and your hands return to his shoulders and back to continue gently what you were doing before. 

Marc tries only to focus on the feel of your touch, tries to banish away anything else such as the dark eyes of his baby brother, barely a week old, wet sneakers and the cold edge of a belt hitting his cheek and making him bleed onto the roadtrack carpet he and Randall spent hours playing on. 

“Sorry.” 

Marc hears the way you shake your head, even if you’re not in front of him and he wonders when that started to happen. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. Your fingers drift along his shoulders and down his arms. “I should have asked before.” 

“I snapped at you.” 

“Doesn’t excuse what I did.”

He mulls this over in his mind, lets it bob up and down like a buoy. 

There’s much you already know, much he’s told you one afternoon when he’d invited you over for tea. There’s much more that you don’t know. 

Mistakes like these, he supposes, are natural. Part of the process all children have to go through as they learn how to walk. 

The thing is though, he’s never had anyone want to go through this with him. He’s never kept himself open enough for anyone to be able to do this to him. He’s not sure when this had happened, when you’d gone from a person he was seeing into…you, an extra artery leading out from his heart, helping pump blood. 

Your hands feel nice against him though. 

The sharp push and pull that was there from earlier is gone and all that’s left for him to do is enjoy it. He’s sure that the sunscreen is all pressed into his skin now, he had been sure you hadn’t put too much of it on, but his mind was working in funny ways he sometimes doesn’t understand himself and he’d pushed you away because of it. 

“Marc?” your voice sounds like sand. “Do you forgive me?” 

He doesn’t know why you should be apologising, as if you could ever do anything bad to him that he didn’t already deserve. 

But from your tone, from the press of your skin against him, he feels that you need this, his forgiveness. And in some ways, that means that he needs to accept that he’s been hurt by your actions, whether or not he cares about you in suspicious patterns that are like love. 

“Yeah.” It’s easier and harder than he’d expected it to be. At the end of the day all he wants is to give you the things that you want. Sometimes it was as easy and as complicated as that, just like in the way he’d been going cross-eyed at the soft feel of your palms against his shoulders. 

You sigh. From behind you hug him and interlace your fingers together. You press the side of your cheek against his back, right where his heart is and he wonders if you do that intentionally or if it’s just the way your two bodies fit together like Lego pieces. “Thank you.” 

Marc struggles in responding to that, he searches for words frantically and throws each one aside when it doesn’t seem to fit his purpose. 

“Will you let me sunscreen your body?” 

He feels you laugh through his back. Instantly, he finds another thing you do that he’s going to crave for every night and fail to find ways in which he can ask you to do it again to him without it sounding weird, “Yeah, Marc, you can.”

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here. Summer Drabbles here.

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x female!reader #marc spector fluff #marc spector angst #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fic #marc spector x f!reader #marc spector imagine #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight imagine #moon knight fic #oscar isaac

[slutforsnow]

Chapter 9

FIRST DAY FESTIVAL TIME :3

TW/CW: Possessive/obsessive Coryo murderous thoughts

When the train that weaved its way through the districts arrived at D2, Sunni practically leaped off the train and hugged her friends who were waiting at the station for her. The friend group was quite large, comprising of maybe 6 people.

"Cori, Sej, come here, you guys gotta meet my friends!!" She called, waving to the boys as they gathered their own + Sunni's luggage off the train.

Getting a closer look at Sunni's friend group, Coriolanus realized that she had a very mixed group of friends; black, white, desi, indian, boys, girls, androgynous, plus sized, and skinny friends. He didn't think negatively of that fact, though; he thought it was nice to see her have a large and very close group of friends. Most girls back at the Academy just just stick 1 to 3 people, and there'd be one poc at the most.

"Guys, this is Coriolanus Snow and Sejanus!" She introduced stepping to the side, allowing everyone to shake hands. "Cori, Sej, these are my friends Nero Amadeus; he/him, Maxima Benedictus; he/she/they, Nataila Catullus; any and neos, Viktor Dellis; he/it, Vivian Diamandis; she/her, and the twins Dele, & Demitri Chaconas!"

A chorus of hellos and heys and followed Sunnis friends as the boys shook hands and introduced themselves to Sunni's friends.

"So, Sunshine, how's the Capitol?" Maxima asked as the residents of District 2 led the Plinths + Coryo to the hotel where the Academy students would be staying.

"Uh, shiny," Sunni answered. "And there's more douchebags."

"Ha, fuckin' told you Vik!" Demitri interrupted, reaching over to smack Viktor in the back of the head. He simply ducked, snickering as they instead hit Sunni.

"Hey-!!"

"Sorry, Sun, Vik ducked!"

Nataila laughed to herself as Vivian and Dele shared a look that read "they're so childish".

As the group chatted excitedly about plans for the week and caught up, learning about the Capitol as well, Coryo was glaring daggers at one of the males; Nero Amadeus.

Nero had his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he listened to the chatter, smiling as Sunni. He was happy to see her so excited and to be reunited with her friends but Coryo didn't know why and I was determined to get a straight answer out of the brunette or beat it out of him.

Cracking his knuckles and tossed his suitcase, which was actually Sejanus' that he was borrowing (read as stole), onto his bed once the group reached the hotel; all the Academy children were were on the top two floors and Sunni's group had the highest one.

"I don't trust that Amaedus guy," He huffed out to Sejanus.

"What? Nero? Why?" Sej asked, setting his backup suitcase on his bed.

"I dunno- I just get a bad feeling from him," He replied, tearing his hoodie off as he spoke.

"He seems pretty chill—besides, we just met the guy. It might just be your paranoia since this is your first time in 2," Sejanus offered, taking off his sweater and setting it on his bed.

"No, I don't think it's the paranoia. I'd know if it's the paranoia."

"Jealousy?" Coryo almost laughed. Him? Jealous? Over what? A girl that's not his yet?

"Jealousy, Sej? Really? Im not dating her, so why would i be jealous?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Friends can be jealous. Hell, I thought Sunni would've replaced me after me, dad, and ma moved to the Capitol, buy she still cares just as much after a decade," Sejanus answered, opening the curtains to check our the view.

"That's different, you're family," the blonde snapped, falling back onto his bed. The was comfy; it felt like it was made entirely out of feathers, and it felt way better than his bed at home.

"Yeah, I suppose, but we should trust them. After all, they've been around Sunni longer than either of us, and for the past 10 years, I've only seen her on visits."

Coryo scoffed and rolled his eyes, mumbling whatever. He was going to find out if Nero had a thing for Sunni and if he needed to dispose of him to make sure he didn't get a chance.

But he'd also have to make sure that no one else would find out about how Nero "went missing". He needed Sunni to completely trust him, no matter the cost.

An awkward silence filled the room, only to be disrupted by loud music entering the room. Coryo sat up, glaring at where the music was supposedly coming from; he didn't need a headache before the festival.

"The hell is that?" Sej inquired, coming out of the bathroom, zipping up his fly. Coryo shrugged, and the two left their room, to see what the noise was. Seeing a door was cracked open, they gently pushed the door open and Coryo feel his blood boil.

Nero and Sunni were dancing to some upbeat and chaotic aong, singing along with it as the others were laughing and talking about an itinerary that Sunni made at some point. When did she make an itinerary, Coryo had no idea, but he didn't care right now. All he cared about was separating his girl from some loser nobody.

"So do you guys plan on making everyone else deaf?" Sejanus shouted over the music, grabbing the others' attention.

"Sorry, Sej, this is what we do all the time!" Sunni shouted back, letting go of Nero so he could turn up his hearing aids once the music was off.

"Why?" He yelled back, walking into the room, followed by Coryo, who was glaring daggers at Nero.

"Why not? It's an homage to how we met; loud music," Sunni replied, laughing as Dele turned the music down.

"Yep: we were all at a skate park, testing our skates and boards and we started bonding over some loud music people were playing," Demitri added as Viktor kicked their ass in another round of COD.

"Dude, how do you get so good at Call of Duty?"

"Eh, having divorced parents who always argue make it easy to find time to game," He replied with a shrug.

"So divorced parents equals being a god at Call of Duty?" Nataila teased, grinning.

"I mean, in my case, yeah."

"So then what does having a dead parent equal?" Maxima inquired.

"Art skills," Sunni answered, hopping her happy little butt onto the counter.

Coryo made his way to her as the others gasped and told Sunni she was quote unquote "wrong for that" while trying not to laugh despite Sunni giving them permission to, when Sunni was laughing and laid his head on her shoulder.

She beamed at this sudden "affection," and gently scratched the top of his head.

"Hi, Cori," She whispered to him as the others, including Sejanus, started talking about things they could do for the first day of the festival.

"Hey, Sunshine," He murmured, his breath hot against her neck.

"You okay?" She asked, gently lifting his head to meet his semi-relaxed gaze.

"Just feel better around you," He lied to her. Well, he wasn't really lying, but he couldn't say he was claiming what's his. He couldn't scare her off. He wouldn't scare her off.

"Okay," She replied, smiling and letting him go back to nuzzling her. Fortunately for Coriolanus, Sunni didn't notice the hateful and murderous glare he was sending towards Nero, who was chatting absent-mindly with Maxima.

Late into the afternoon, once all the Academy students were settled, the group had set off to explore District 2 and everything that had been set up.

Games, of course, for the little kids who had rich families or the Academy kids who had younger siblings or students who wanted to relax and feel like a child again, but also dancing, music, and all sorts of different delicacies. It was so wonderful, filling, and fun that they all felt calm. Even with the occasional dead dad or divorced parents jokes, which Coryo learned were coping methods that Sunni and Viktor used to cope with the loss, everyone felt happy.

But Coryo wasn't happy. People were calling to Sunni, getting hugs and having her full attention. Sejanus, at one point, had to restrain Coryo from committing any more crimes again because a guy hugged Sunni for 2 minutes too long.

Sure, Sunni reassured him and said he was "just a friend," but Coryo had countered with "friend's don't have their hands way too low where they shouldn't be." Which eventually led to Sunni nodding but telling him he didn't need to jealous because they guy was 15 and just really tall. At that point, Coryo let it go and gave in but has held her close to him, not wanting anyone to pull her away from him. As the group walked to another restaurant to check out the place, Sejanus shot Coryo a text wearing a shit eating grin.

Sejanus: Not jealous, hm? You haven't let go of Sunni since we found out about the loud music lmfao

Seen

Coryo rolled his eyes, seeing the text. Of course, he wasn't going to let go of Sunni. People could've turned against her after she was transferred to the Capitol, for God's sake! He had to protect his girl, even from her own friends if he had to.

Then Sejanus sent Coryo another text, but it was a photo of Coryo with his arms around Sunni's waist and holding her small hands in his and he had his head on top of hers.

He smiled a little at the picture and saved it to his phone before putting his phone in his pocket.

He'd make that his lockscreen later.

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings @nowitsmissing @poppyflower-22 @kuromismom7 @xjinnix @flw3rrr @plathsotherib @beaphobia @valeskafics @aoi-targaryen @elayasversion

#corio x sunni #coryo x sunni plinth #coryo x sunni #sunni plinth #his sunflower #coriolanus snow #coryo snow x sunni plinth #Coriolanus snow x sunni plinth #coriolanus x reader #coryo snow x reader #coryo #coryo smut #coryo snow x you #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #coryolanus snow #coryo x reader smut #coryo x y/n #coryo x oc #coryo x you #coryo x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes smut #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #24] Resolutions

warnings: hangovers, showers, fingering, a little verbal degradation, a lot of praise too!!, unprotected sex, mentions of the word daddy lmao, she's bratty!!, mentions of jimin mid-shag, THE bd jk line imo (my dick is in your cunt, not your mouth. answer me.), pretty kisses <33, he finishes in her mouth yum, b feeling a little guilty :(, some much needed honesty between our starluvrs!, the notebook!!, sticky notes, danbi + tae

wc: 15k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Fuck my life," you mumble into a pillow that you know well, but also know isn't your own. Doesn't smell like your fabric softener, and so even though your eyes are firmly shut, you're very aware you're not in your own bed.

You're also warm. Like, heat of a thousand suns, midnight fireworks misfiring and landing right at your feet, kinda warm.

You adjust slightly to ease the duvet off your lower half - but there's an arm looped over your side. It keeps you close. Keeps you warm. Keeps you from getting out of bed. You can't see it, but as your hand rests on it, you know exactly who it belongs to; tattooed and toned in such a way that makes you feel all funny when you remember gripping onto it the night before.

And so you let yourself indulge in the luxury of closed eyes and dreamy thoughts, until sleep steals you away again.

There's a stellar serenity to the not-quite-silence of Jeongguk's room in the mornings that follow Dionysus nights.

He gets moany as he wakes; little huffs and puffs of discomfort as he wiggles around, trying to find the most comfortable position. His aim is always to go back to sleep, so that doesn't have to feel his headaches.

It's a little before midday when Jeongguk finds himself resisting the urge to fall back asleep. He's been laying on his front, like he so often does, one arm beneath his pillow, the other outstretched, resting over your hip.

As he turns his head and nestles his chin into his shoulder, he's greeted by your back; skin bare, wabi-sabi glitter ever-present. How it even manages to be trailing down your spine, he has no idea. Thinks you must be made of stardust, or something like that. Wonders if maybe he was an astronaut in a past life.

Jeongguk adjusts. Keeps his arm hooked over your waist but hugs his chest to your spine. He's just as naked as you are, and his hangover is gonna fuckin' kill him, but he wants to be close to another person. Always eases the pain a little.

As you stir, disturbed by Jeongguk's movements, you mumble something incoherent into his sheets.

"Mhmm?" He hums, eyes shut, not caring to accept the fact he really shouldn't be in bed with you in such a way - but it's his bed.

You mumble again; not really making any words, or forming any sentences. More so just expressing your awareness of it being morning.

"I wish you would close your curtains," you groan, sunlight intruding through your eyelids.

"You've got legs," he hums, voice just as sleepy as yours. "Do it yourself."

You've also got a boy holding onto you for dear life, and a warmth between your bodies that you don't really want to lose.

It's worrying, you think, how much Jeongguk is able to remedy your woes. It just comes with the territory. He's your friend ; expectations are minimal. It's only natural that being around him like this doesn't hold the same weight as it would do with any other boy.

Mentally, you don't love the fact you stayed the night. Makes you feel guilty; like there's someone playing your heartstrings like a harp, but they're painfully out of tune. It's not a nice sound, even though you know it should be.

And yet as Jeongguk holds you a little closer - tighter - it's almost like he's twisting the harp pegs. Making it sound good, even if just for a moment. You'd like to listen to the sound a little while longer.

"They're your curtains," you huff into his sheets. "You do it."

"You're closer to the window," he mumbles into your neck, and the feeling of his lips against your skin gets you remembering the night before; how they'd left trails of desire up your thighs, whispered oh-so-friendly greetings against places that no friend should ever be so well acquainted with, and the home they'd found as they sank between yours. Fuck .

It's not the only reminder. You're not sure if it's the hangover, the fact you're naked, or if Jeongguk is thinking about the night before, too, but there is one thing you're sure of: Jeon Jeongguk is hard.

Part of you feels like you shouldn't mention it. He's the one living inside his body. He'll be aware of it.

And he is. He just doesn't really care. Nothing you haven't felt before, thinks.

Admittedly, it's never been without purpose. Or at least, without excuse. Last night, you'd both been wasted. He wouldn't say he's entirely sober now, and he probably shouldn't drive for a good few hours, but he can't chalk a bad decision up to inebriation, now.

When you groan, still being a belligerent little fucker about his curtains, he laughs.

"Lay on your front," he says. "S'how I block it out."

"Can't," you say, without even caring to try. "Tits."

Jeongguk chirps in surprise. "Tits? You've got tits? Don't think that's true. I've never noticed them."

It would almost be believable if his fingers weren't within touching distance. You encourage them upwards, and let them cup you softly.

The very tips of his fingers lightly ghost over your soft skin, until his touches become more deliberate. Become firmer. Intentional. He's still gentle as he squeezes them, hands warm, smile present.

"Huh," he hums in complete satisfaction, getting exactly what he was after. Just wanted to hold them. "Maybe you do have tits."

"Maybe?" you question, tone dry, a smile on your lips that he cannot see. He knows it's there, though. Knows you enjoy that stupidity of dumb flirting like this. Your fingers squeeze down over his, encouraging him to get a real handful.

The way his body moves behind you, ever so slightly, his hips pushing a little further against your ass, has you wanting to cut the bullshit. There's only one way you want this to end up - and given Jeongguk's tendency to fear death every time he's even remotely horny, you're almost certain he wants it, too.

"Maybe," he grins against your neck, then whispers. "Still an ass guy, though."

"Hmm?" You question his sheer audacity. "Then why aren't your hands on my ass?"

"They can be," he assures you. "Just wasn't sure I was allowed."

You shrug a little letting your back relax into his embrace. "Do what you like."

"Nah, B, that's not how this works," he smiles, lips grazing the top of your spine. "You know that's not how this works."

"How does it work then?"

"You tell me what you want. You ask for it."

"Or," you simper, turning onto your front. His grip eases, showing that you really do have all the control - but you don't want it. You want him to want you. Crave you. You raise your hips, back arching ever so slightly. "You can try and convince me you really are an ass guy."

He laughs. Does squeeze your ass, but also says, "you don't want that."

You lift your ass a little higher. He squeezes again. Groans. Thinks you'll be the death of him. "No?"

"Is it on the birds?"

You pause for a moment.

"Exactly," he says. Why he's choosing to show restraint, he's unsure. He'd eat your ass at the drop of a hat, if you explicitly asked him to - but you don't, so he won't.

In his heart of hearts, he knows exactly why he's showing restraint.

The second it starts becoming about him, and his pleasures, his desires, that's when the game changes. He knows that you were verging on dangerous territory last night. Remembers calling you baby. Remembers how instead of telling him off, you'd fucking kissed him. Remembers your lips, and how it felt to have his tongue in your mouth, and fuck . Even thinking about it gets him a little too twitchy.

"What if what I want isn't on the birds?" you say quietly.

Jeongguk smiles. Shakes his head, hair tangling on his pillow. Gives you one final squeeze and a tiny open-palmed spank before he pulls himself away from you. "Then you should have been wiser with your birds."

You know he's grinning like a smug little prick, and as much as you want to be annoyed with him, you're too hungover. Can't be wasting energy like that.

From your snug little cocoon, you can hear the faint movements of Jeongguk making himself look presentable. He pulls on a pair of boxers and tosses a shirt over his bedhead, not really caring much for appearances - though all of his monochromatic wardrobe tends to match.

He pays the semi in the front of his boxers no notice, adjusting himself so his cock lays up flat against his lower belly, not favouring an uncomfortable tenting. In all honesty, he'd much rather be naked. Would die for a blowjob.

But he's trying to be good to repent for his bad decisions from the night before.

Opening just one of your eyes as Jeongguk meanders over to the curtains, you watch on as he pulls them shut without even so much as saying a word. As much as he likes to bicker with you, he also prefers it when you're comfortable. Thinks that closing the curtains is the least he can do. Knows his head feels like it's caving in, so imagines yours is, too.

"Thank you," you whisper, a serene smile settling on your lips.

He pulls off the shirt he's worn for all of a minute just because he doesn't like the way the fabric feels around the base of his neck. Infinitely more irritable when he's hungover, Jeongguk just wants to feel comfy; wants the lemmings in his head to stop drilling away his skull. His mouth is so dry he may as well have slept with cotton wool on his tongue.

Just more of the many downfalls that come with taking things a little too far in the sanctuary of Dionysus. Both of you had been drinking to forget the messes made in the year previous. Didn't really work. If anything, it just ensured you started this year on a messy note, too.

You miss the weight of his body beside you as he tells you he's gonna grab some water - but doesn't bother to ask if you want any. He'll just get you some regardless. Knows you'll need it. No matter how much water he forces into your hands throughout the night, you never stay hydrated enough.

Stumbling a little over his feet and the clothes discarded on his bedroom floor from the night before, Jeongguk doesn't bother to look down and check if they belong to you or him. Knows that his bedroom floor really shouldn't have your clothes strewn all over it, yet you seem to have stormed in like a hurricane, disrupting every sense of peace he's ever known. For some reason that he can't quite work out, you spared him from the eye of your storm. Have never shown him anything but kindness.

And so he'll take misplaced garments and the stain of a little glitter in exchange for such a harmonious life.

As he makes his way into the sitting room in just his boxers, Jeongguk ruffles his hair, a yawn escaping his pretty lips, the small silver ring moving ever so gently. He's every bit the image of reckless youth, just with a little bit of boy next door energy to remedy the woes of every girl he's ever dated.

He spots his phone on the floor by the kitchen island, next to a couple of take-out kebab boxes from the night before. Making no effort to check it, Jeongguk walks right on by - not only because he fears what leaning over will do to his very fragile, very hungover head, but also because he doesn't want to have to deal with the fall out of the night before.

He will speak with Jiyeong, just not yet. Not while he feels so delicate.

Grabbing a pint glass from the drying rack, Jeongguk taps the sink into motion, water funnelling out at such a speed it makes him feel a little queasy. He mutters out a curse - and then almost shits himself when a voice mumbles from the living room.

"Shuuush," Jimin drawls. "Sleeping."

Sprawled out across the sofa like a stretching kitten, Jimin looks just as bad as Jeongguk feels - if not, worse . His bare feet rest over the armrest, body face down, head pressed into a pillow.

"Christ," Jeongguk mutters. "Why aren't you in your room?"

"Needed water," Jimin says, as if that explains why he didn't just go back to bed after he'd gotten some - but he did. Just ended up spilling it all over his bed.

Jeongguk isn't the only member of the household who'd drunkenly strewn his clothes all over the floor the night before, and Jimin is paying the price for being so careless, now.

Had fallen asleep in it regardless, but woke up a little while later and was unsure if it was spilt water, or if he'd pissed himself, so had just chosen to migrate to the sofa instead.

"Byeol's still here," Jeongguk says quietly, almost as if he doesn't want Jimin to know.

Truthfully, he sort of doesn't want him to know. Doesn't wanna have to deal with the questions, and the assumptions, and the accusations. He knows that Jimin will jump to conclusions like a five year old on a sugar high in a trampoline park.

"Gonna have to start charging her rent, soon," Jimin just mumbles into the couch. He's too bleary to align his thoughts properly.

If he wasn't so hungover, he might be considering the implications of such a confession from Jeongguk.

See, he worries about Jeongguk - and while he's so happy that it feels the old Jeongguk is returning, it does concern him that he's retracing paths he's already walked. Isn't too sure how things with Hayun began, but knows all too well how it ended.

He fears that history is repeating itself.

It's a concern for another day, though. Not for right now.

And so Jeongguk returns to his room without an interrogation, and sinks back into bed with you. He makes no effort to snuggle in closer, and nor do you, because that's not what this is about. You're a comfort to one another, but are both aware the conventions of a relationship should not be shared between you both.

But then Jeongguk's brain starts doing pretty little pirouettes, and he's thinking about what-if scenarios, and knows that he needs to get out from underneath his duvet.

Kinda gets it now. Gets why you never stay the night. Wonders if maybe it's something that he's affected by, too, and just had never realised.

Jeongguk only ever fucks girls he dating, so it's never been something he's questioned before. With Hayun, he was already head over heels, so it made no real difference. If he fell harder? Faster? So be it.

It's different with you. He's scared he'll fuck things up. You've got a good thing going. Too good to jeopardise.

As he gets up, he moves the water from the table on his side, to the table by yours. Tosses down a sheet of paracetamol tablets, too. The stack of books on his side table hasn't been touched since your first foray into his personal space - not because he doesn't want to read them, but because he simply hasn't had the time.

With work, and Jiyeong, and uni, it feels like he's not really had a moment to breathe. His brain has been in overdrive for weeks now, and he's only just realising it.

Stirring a little, you're thankful to have water close by, even if Jeongguk isn't.

He sits at his desk, back a little curved, slouched into a comfortable position. You don't tell him, but he's got a little tuft of hair sticking up like a daisy sprouting from an overgrown lawn. It moves as he does, delicately shaking as he jots down notes onto some paper. It's been a little while since you last saw him do university work, but there's something so incredibly endearing about it.

He's already downloaded the majority of his notes from his iPad to his desktop, so spins in his chair to toss it down on the bed for you when he hears you sitting up. It lands with a soft thud, unlocked and on his landing page.

"Here," he says. "You can watch youtube or something. I don't mind the background noise."

Turning back before you even have a chance to respond, Jeongguk gets his head down straight away. Ignores the way you looked, glittery shoulders bare, duvet tucked beneath your arms.

He's making notes on an assignment that was due a couple of days ago, winter break seemingly counting for nothing. It really won't take long - just peer reviewing some work - but the less time he has to think about it, the better.

Come February, he'll be done with his studies. It's been years in the making at this point, part-time studying putting him behind his friends when it came to life-progressing achievements. The sooner he has his bachelor's, the sooner it will feel like he's actually accomplished something. There are stairs that Jeongguk wishes to climb, and he's been stuck on this one for what feels like eternity.

You study him for a moment; watch the way his jaw tenses as he muses over the work in front of him, nibbling down on his bottom lip. His lip ring does the thing . There's a hardness to his face. Determination, maybe.

Part of you thinks you should just leave him be, but something feels a little off. He'd woken up holding you and now he doesn't even seem to want to look at you - and that's when the realisation hits .

You're holding him to the standard of someone he isn't. Jeongguk isn't a romantic partner. He's no different to Jimin, or the girl who took you back to her place a couple of months back, or the guy who decided he could only get off if you were bent in the strangest of ways after a few too many drinks at Dionysus. He's someone you fuck.

But he's also your friend.

You suppose Jimin is too, but you've always managed to avoid sleeping in his room.

This is why sharing a bed was so high up on your list of fears; you don't know how to separate intimacy from it. It scares you. The way you're feeling? The horrible pangs of discomfort in your tummy? The anxiety that's consuming you? It's exactly why you don't share beds.

The shirt Jeongguk had been wearing is crumpled at the end of the bed, so you reach down for it. Think that cover is needed. Being naked feels far too vulnerable.

Pulling it over your head, you stand, letting the fabric tumble down your body. His shirts are always big, 'cause he always gets them as large as he possibly can. Just a Ggukism you've grown fond of. One of the many.

You drink as much water as you can, and chug down the paracetamol, half considering a double dose just to rid you of your throbbing head pain. Showers always help, and so does cleaning your teeth for some reason. It's a placebo, you think, as if you're telling yourself you're washing away harmful toxins from your body. Whatever the actual science is doesn't matter. It works. That's all you care about.

When you stand beside him and squeeze his shoulder gently, he turns his head and lets his chin rest on the tops of your fingers. Despite the low lighting, Jeongguk can see glitter all over your skin. The reflections scatter light all around his room, just like a Disco Ball should.

"Morning," he says quietly. "Not fancy watching anything?"

With a shake of your head, you smile. "My head's killing me."

It's the kind of hangover that has you wishing alcohol had never been invented, or at least has you certain you'll never drink vodka again. But you will. Of course, you will. Especially if you keep meeting bartenders that look like Jeongguk.

"Sorry," he offers, as if it's his fault you kept ordering drinks. "I'm a little too good at my job, apparently. Jimin's like Snorlax on the sofa right now."

"In the living room?" You whine.

"Problem?" Jeongguk smiles.

"Wanted to go brush my teeth, sort myself out," you sigh with a bratty little pout.

"He knows you're here," Jeongguk says. Is glad that he's able to do something right every now and again. At least this way you won't have to sneak around. "Will probably be asleep, anyways. He looked worse than both of us."

"Really?" You laugh, finding it hard to believe. Normally you can handle your hangovers pretty well, but it's killing you today.

"Really," he nods, not lifting his chin from his shoulder. "Go, get yourself freshened up. We can order food if you want? I'd kill for jajjangmyeon right now."

"Ugh," you moan, stomach rumbling at the mere thought of food. There's nothing you want more. "This is why we're friends."

"No, we're friends because you like free drinks," he teases, before turning back to his work. "Go. This will only take me ten minutes or so. You can grab a shower if you want - my towel is where it usually is."

"Star," you beam at him. It's a compliment he thinks is far more befitting of you - but he also doesn't realise there's just as much glitter on him as there is on you right now. "Thank you."

Jeongguk just smiles. Looks a little bashful, in that sweet unassuming way he so often does. A little physical separation will be good, you think. Will stop you from overthinking things.

And so you're not sure exactly what possesses you as you grab his towel from the shelf next to his clothes rail, and say, "still counts as revision, by the way. Of the birds, I mean."

"Hmm?" Jeongguk glances back up, eyes wide and doe-like, as if he misheard you. He didn't. Heard you loud and clear. Just wants to be certain he knows what you're talking about. Assumptions don't fare well in situations like these.

You just shrug. Indifference is something you feign far too often to be able to pull it off, anymore. Jeongguk knows your tells. Knows you so well it's ridiculous. Just gets you. Probably is why it's so easy for him to get you all hot and bothered, like you are now. You're the one who decided to wind him up. It should be him that feels flustered.

But how can you not when he looks at you like that ?

His eyes darken a little. Narrow. Look smokey, as he smirks. Lets his tongue toy with his lip ring, before he shakes his head, ridding it of the clusterfuck that comes with how badly he wants you. He can't give in. Not again.

"Go get your shower, trouble."

Oh, how you wish he wouldn't call you trouble.

Funny. He wishes that you wouldn't be trouble. It makes it so hard to resist you.

As you make your way through the sitting room, you're mindful of not waking Jimin up. He's face down on the sofa, snoring lightly, just like Jeongguk said he would be, so you think you'll be safe. Doubt even the sound of the shower starting will wake him up.

You're so familiar with Jeongguk's apartment by now that you know how to angle the bathroom door so it makes no noise when the latch closes shut. You don't lock it, though. Are very deliberate with that.

After all, you really wouldn't mind revising.

Teeth brushed, clothes off, shower on. It's a simple little routine that takes no more than five minutes. Jeongguk will be halfway done with the work he was doing.

You wonder if he's thinking about you.

Thinking about all the times he's been with you in his bathroom. Thinking about how dirty you like to get in the place where you should be getting clean.

The anticipation has you insatiable. Has you thinking of all sorts of outcomes. There's only one definite in these scenarios: Jeongguk joining you. None of this will be fun without him.

You watch the door with bated breath. Are worried that Jimin will wake up needing the bathroom, and not realise the shower is going, and that this whole little stunt will backfire splendidly.

And so you decided to actually make it look like you are just showering.

You turn your back to the door - because it feels far less brazen - and begin to work water through your hair. The water pitter-patters around you, and is so loud that it almost drowns out the click of the door opening.

Almost .

You make no change to what you're doing. If it was Jimin he would have freaked out the second he realised. Instead, you hear the sink tap go, and thank the lord the pipes aren't connected to the shower, so it remains a steady temperature.

Jeongguk tries not to look at you. Stares at himself as he brushes his teeth in the mirror, rinsing away the taste of last night's poison. It's not even been twelve hours since he last showered with you; and yet this one feels entirely different.

Feels like you're hitting a reset button.

You're both aware that this is needed; that you need to fuck within the perimeters of the agreement. Need to separate the intimacy from the acts. That's what this is. That's how he justifies the intense need he has to fuck you. He has to fix what he thinks he could have broken.

Jeongguk gives himself one final look in the mirror. Tries to understand what he's feeling, or what he actually wants, but he's not sure. He just knows that he doesn't want to lose whatever the fuck it is he has with you; your friendship or the sex. Fears that if he lets the uncertainty simmer in his sternum that he'll make the same mistakes that he did with Hayun.

Pushing a hand through his hair, Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. You don't hear it. Just continue staring at the rivulets racing down the tiles. Wonder why he's taking so long.

It's been just over a month of a temporary pause on the birds. Not much time at all. It really isn't as much of a huge deal as you're both telling yourselves it is - but of course you are.

It's a hamartia you share; shouldering the weight of relationships that have been put down by other people.

You just don't realise you're playing tug of war, now, each wanting to take the 'blame' for things going wrong - when they haven't even gone wrong, yet. It's so dumb. So painfully, tragically, idiotic.

Neither of you have really been thinking with much logic since Jeongguk kissed you through your orgasm and you through his. It's like you stole each other's oxygen, and your brains are paying the price, now.

He's quiet as he joins you in the shower, the tips of his fingers on your hips to scoot you a little out of his way.

You don't speak. He faces away from you. Grabs the shampoo, and holds it over his shoulder for you. Part of you feels like he should be the one to crack and talk first.

He joined you.

But you invited him in.

He locked the door behind himself and confined you both to the trap laid by you .

Both as bad as one another; and so of course as you start to talk, so does he. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Jeongguk laughs. Decides to not let you go first. If this is gonna be just about sex, then he's gonna take on the role that so often falls upon him in times like these.

Turning so that his chest is to your back, Jeongguk lets his hands grip your waist just above the curve of your hip. His hands are strong, but his grip is gentle. Soothing. His touch, to a degree, confirms that he wants this; wants things to be how they were.

"What are we revising, B?" he says quietly; cautiously. He doesn't think you should be too loud. Had to walk past a sleeping Jimin in order to reach the bathroom. Doesn't want to risk waking him.

His deft palms stroke up your sides, warm and welcoming.

And as you raise to your tippy toes? Lean forward? Rest your forearms against the tiles, back arched for him? Ass so close to his cock that it takes everything in himself not to just line himself up and sink into you?

It's all so fucking obvious.

His palms squeeze . Pull you closer.

"You're the academic genius," you smile. Jeongguk loves the way he can always hear it in your tone. "You tell me."

"So much ground to cover. Exam season's coming up," he muses quietly, a hand on your ass, the other stroking up and down your back. It really is gonna be exam season by the end of the month. He's not lying. The hand that had been tenderly cossetting your spine follows the curve of your body, until he's got your ass in either hand.

His constant reminders of how much of an ass guy he is repeat in your head. You wonder what this is doing for him; if it gets him harder than when he worships your tits.

The pads of his fingers sink into your firm flesh, manipulating your ass to move just how he wants it to. You roll your eyes, a smile firmly in place, and sigh. It's soft and melodic to Jeongguk's ears, so he smiles, too.

"Important part of exam prep," he tells you. "Need to make sure you cover all the bases."

He doesn't get this view of you all too often. Loves your pussy, but Christ . He is an ass guy. Thinks he'll die if you don't let him eat it at least once (though he's almost positive that once would be enough to convert you, too).

"My ass isn't on the birds," you remind him as his thumb strokes over the tight muscle of yours that he's yet to experience. Applies a little pressure. Makes you gasp. Doesn't go any further. Knows better. You only start breathing again when he pulls it away - and bizarrely enough, you find yourself a little bit disappointed . He corrupts your sense of desire, just like you corrupted his.

"You're right," he acknowledges. "So tell me what is, B. Tell me what we've gotta revise."

You're smug as you let your body lean a little further into the wall, ass still in his grip. The water continues to cascade down, but the shower head is angled away; hitting the glass door and drowning out the sound of your conversation.

A little less trusting of the sound levels than Jeongguk is, you remind him of his housemate.

"Jimin's only in the next room," you say quietly.

"So?" Jeongguk says, still caressing the cheeks of your ass. You can feel his cock resting between them. "Let him hear."

Jeon Jeongguk is trouble wrapped in a silky bow, you decide. Is going to hell, and will drag you right down with him.

And yet as he holds his solid cock by the base and runs it between your folds, you find yourself very willing to be taken along with him. Wet and ready, you know it must feel good for him, 'cause it feels fucking divine for you.

"Also," he adds, sinking his middle finger into your warm hole instead of his cock. There's sin laced into his words, a sultry smile on his lips. "Don't talk about Jimin when I'm touching your pussy. It's rude."

The way you whine is enough to let him know that you understand the message loud and clear, but Jeongguk doesn't think it's good enough. Sinks a second finger into your cunt. A third.

"Who are you gonna talk about? Huh? While I'm fucking your cunt with my hand, who are you gonna talk about?"

Oh .

"Jimin?" You tease, knowing that it will just make him pump his thick fingers into you even faster - and he does. Oh, it's heaven . So fucking good . The sounds your pussy makes for him are unchaste; lewd. Jeongguk thinks you sound better than anything he's ever heard before. Hates that the shower is muting you.

"It's like you want me to fuck you so hard you can't talk at all," He rasps, his spare hand gripping the back of your neck, impatient and needy for you to comply.

He needs the green light for him to fuck himself into you. Doesn't care for anything else.

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe isn't good enough."

"Fine," you relent, ignoring the fact shower sex isn't technically a bird - but it is what you want. "Fuck me."

"Yeah?" He mewls. Scissors his fingers inside you. Gets you all whimpery.

"Yeah," you beg, which suits him just fine. He wants you like this. Wants you needy.

"I'm gonna be mean," he tells you gently, as he pulls his fingers out of you, knowing that he needs to be far less romantic than he was the night before. Absolutely cannot call you 'baby' again. His hands roam up your soaked body, the hand that had been on your neck now stroking your wet hair through his fingers. You nod, but he repeats it, 'cause he needs to know you know. "I'm gonna be mean, B. Not as mean as I can be, but meaner than you've had me. Okay? What's the word?"

"Chess," you simply say, voice serene and so blissfully unaware of what's in store for you.

He presses a kiss against the top of your spine. Reaches up to cup your boobs. Lets his thumb swipe across your hard nipples. Smiles when you get a little moany. Kisses down on the nape of your neck when your hands come to join his, encouraging his grip on your chest.

"Chess," he repeats. "Second I say something you don't like, you say it, okay?"

You're so intrigued. Mild-mannered, a friend to all, charming as they come is Jeongguk. Mean doesn't seem like it's a part of his vocabulary. He's always so gentle with you - but he does have a silver tongue. Normally when he gets too horny for his own good, he forgets his filter and just says what comes to mind. You always like that part.

Often, he doesn't realise he's doing it; but he's trying to be controlled today. Restraining himself, even if it seems like maybe he isn't. This way, he'll be on top of his thoughts. Won't let things get too far.

Jeongguk isn't sure that what he considers 'mean' aligns with what you consider to be mean. Knows you've got a bratty side, but doesn't really know the dynamics of any of your past partners. Doesn't really think it's his place to ask.

You turn to look over your shoulder, and are greeted with the most earnest eyes you've ever seen in your whole damn life.

"Mean words?" you check.

He nods. "Just as many nice ones, though."

"And no mean hands?"

There's a change in your voice when you ask that. A drop in your eyes. Jeongguk isn't sure what to make of it. Squeezes your waist. Presses a kiss to your shoulder. "Never mean hands."

Facing away again, you smile. An ex was a little too rough with you without checking your limits before, and so you always like to make sure. Jeongguk has never given you those vibes, but you're also aware that this? Right now? This is all about sex. This isn't about who you are as people.

"Give me your worst, Starfucker."

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. Tries not to smile. He likes it when you call him that. Makes his tummy feel all discombobulated. Starfucker by name, star fucker by nature.

He doesn't let you know how much he likes it. Just shakes his head. Lines himself up.

You gasp into the steam-filled air as the tip of his cock pushes between the meeting of your puffy, wet, lips. He's slow . God, it makes you want him even more.

A hand on your waist while the other grips your ass, Jeongguk's strength keeps you in place. His fingers are tight against your skin and the sensation is overwhelming, as if his fingers are matchsticks and your skin is the paper they strike against.

The lack of prolonged warm-up makes you a little tighter than he's experienced before; the position of your closed legs only adding to this.

Jeongguk groans as he pushes into you. The feeling burns in the most pleasurable of ways; your pussy willing and wanting to accommodate his size.

You reach behind to let your nails dig into his ass. Encourage him to push further into you as you try and hide a laboured whine, but he's too big to pretend like he doesn't exist.

"Hmm?" Jeongguk hums quietly, a smile on his face despite the furrowing of his brows. It's a miracle you can't see him in this moment, because it's the kind of face you know you'd quite like to fall in love with. "You good, there, B?"

You nod. Laugh so gently Jeongguk thinks you really must have fallen from the heavens above. Adjusting your body, you sink back further onto him, letting him penetrate you even deeper.

There's a strain to your voice, as if you're trying to hide a moan, as you rasp, "Yeah. Just getting comfy. You?"

Your hips roll back against him. He grips your ass a little harder.

He can't decide if he wants to lean forward and keep your back pressed to his chest, or if he wants to watch the way you bounce your ass against him. Wishes he could have both. "Yeah. Grand. Really good, actually."

He's putting in minimal effort, more so controlling the pace of your hips as you work yourself up and down his shaft. The movements are small; controlled. They're soft, and simple. Uncomplicated.

Jeongguk loses himself in the way it feels to be inside of you. His hips begin to pick up the slack. The stable momentum is welcome by you, but he's not really aware he's doing it. Just letting his body do what feels right. Is too busy thinking about how much he wants to kiss you.

Always the same fuckin' thing.

"God, B," he whines instead, as a way to distract his mouth.

He wants to hear the way you sound in his mouth, feel the vibration of your lips against his, but he knows last night was a one-off. He won't try for it again.

Sure, it makes him think he might die, but it was one of your firm boundaries that you only relented on when you were drunk. Likely a bad decision in your eyes, he doesn't wanna put you in any uncomfortable positions.

Or at least that's how his brain portrays it to himself.

Totally isn't because of that pesky fear of rejection he likes to blame everything on making an appearance. He's never been scared of you. Never feared rejection from you. And yet he's holding back.

So he makes up for it in other ways.

Hips fervent, Jeongguk doesn't care much for anything except the way you feel wrapped around him, and the little hums of pleasure that are leaking from your lips.

Jeongguk also doesn't care for niceties. Has you within his grasp, and never wants to lose it. Wants sink his teeth into your neck and poison you with immortality; make sure you're forever tied to him.

Said he'd be mean. Thinks he should deliver on it.

"Shit," he husks, hips slapping up against your ass. The sound of wet spanks echo into the room. "You've been so desperate for my cock, haven't you? Desperate and needy, just waiting for me to fuck you again."

"Gguk-"

"No," he grunts into your ear, as he pushes you further up against the wall. The arch in your back deeps; his grip on your ass does just the same. "Address me properly."

Properly . Are you supposed to know how?

Jeongguk doesn't even know how he wants you to address him. Just knows when you say the right thing, he'll know it's the one.

" Daddy ?" You question, 'cause it's the only thing that can come to mind. You hate that you've said it. Admittedly, with his cock fucking into you, the ridge of his head massaging against your most sensitive spot, the name doesn't sound all that bad. Still, it would never be your first choice.

"Daddy?" He laughs. Like, really laughs. It's the kind of laugh you're used to hearing when you're lounging around in his room, doing nothing much other than existing together. His laughter quietens and then his lips are on your neck. Teeth grazing. Tongue teasing. His voice is gritty as he speaks. "I'd be paying for this cunt if I was your Daddy , wouldn't I? But look at you. You're giving it up for free for me. Slutting yourself out for my cock, aren't you?"

Fuck .

You nod. Whine. " So slutty for you."

His pace slows a little. Burrows a little further. Harder. Teeth dig a little deeper into your neck.

"Say it again."

Your breathing is shallow. Jeongguk loves the way it sounds. Is obsessed with how your breaths get even more erratic when his hand dips down to toy with your pussy. Not your clit - he'll keep you waiting for that - but anywhere and everywhere else that could be mildly stimulating for you.

His forefinger and middle finger press down on either side of your entrance, where his cock is spreading you open. He ruts, once, twice. Smirks.

"Did I fucking stutter?" Jeongguk snarls. You can hear how tense his jaw is; can imagine how pretty he looks. You fucking whine for him. Are so out of your own control it's embarrassing. "Say it again. Tell me what you are."

You let your head tilt back, and it takes everything in him not to leave a mark on your neck with his mouth. Jeongguk knows he's in control of the situation, but it feels like he's got none at all.

"A slut," you mewl as his lips press against the base of your neck.

"Whose?" He says, nipping his teeth against your skin as he continues to thrust up into you. You want him to graze. To leave a mark. Know that he won't.

"Yours."

The way you pant as you say it has Jeongguk feeling all sort of fucked up. This is just sex, yeah, but fuck . He underestimated just how much he'd like hearing that.

"Can barely fuckin' fit my cock inside you, can you?" He grits. "You sure your pussy is made for me?"

Now this does make you pout. It's not 'chess' worthy, but it has you wanting to prove yourself; prove that his cock belongs inside you. Has you wanting revenge .

You roll your hips back. Pick the pace up for him. Turn your chin to your shoulder and look back at him. The look on his face - heavy-lidded eyes, and blown out pupils, mouth ajar, tongue toying with his lip ring - would suggest your pussy is perfect for him.

"Is it not?" you almost plead, sotto voce , eyes as wide as your lips are pouty. "Tell me it's not."

Jeongguk's heavy-lidded eyes don't lift as he smirks. He looks like absolute sin. He wondered how long it would take for you to turn bratty.

"How does such a tight little cunt take me so well, huh?" He praises. "How'd you do it?"

And then he takes control back. Rams his cock into you; fills you to the hilt. You're almost certain he's hitting your cervix. He's so big. So big , and fat , and filling . You've never had a cock like his before. It almost hurts, but the pleasure always takes precedence.

How he expects you to reply when you can barely fucking moan coherently is beyond you.

One of his hands drops from your waist and sinks down to the front of your pussy. He knows it well, now. Knows how to get you creaming. Finally applies a little pressure to the hood of your clit. Dainty little circles that couldn't be further apart from the solid thrust of his cock into your hole.

He's a man of juxtapositions and the way he fucks you is no exception.

An overwhelming pleasure takes hold of your every atom; cosmic in the way the feeling transcends through you. He feels it, too. Feels fucking euphoric. Feels unlike any fuck he ever normally indulges in.

That's the thing about fucking you; there's no weight of a relationship, just a pursuit of feeling good. He's never had that with anyone else.

"Gguk, I'm gonna-"

"What?" He cuts you off. Laughs. Oh, it is mean. You like it. "Cum? No. You're not."

He doesn't relent. Keeps going. Your legs are weak from the diversion of your senses, a state of fucked out bliss taking over you. All you can feel is pleasure; butterflies in your veins, fire and ice on your skin.

"I'm so close."

"Don't care," he husks. Stalls his cock. Stops thrusting. Keeps rubbing your clit like he was put on this earth to worship you. "You're not gonna cum."

"You're gonna make me," you whine.

"Am I?" He teases.

But then you do something that surprises him; you pull away. Let him slide out from your swollen pussy. Stand up straight. Turn to face him, chest heaving. His cock is soaked. You want it in your mouth.

"No," you say, voice as strong as it can be. The change in your tone amuses Jeongguk. Takes him off guard. "You sure you've done this before? I could give you pointers."

He tilts his head. Looks you dead in the eyes, a smirk forming on his ever-charming face. There's something lewd about how his jaw hangs slack as he brazenly strokes his cock.

"I had you squirting on my fucking fingers last night," he reminds you with an arrogant laugh. "Pointers? Really ?"

You nod. The indifference you're feigning is just as transparent as it always is, but Jeongguk plays into it. He likes this. Likes how you're fighting back.

He encroaches on your space until your back is against the tiles, and you're suffocating in all that his; his provocative charm, and tender touches.

"Pointers," you repeat, lips all pouty as you give him a pathetic little look of sympathy. "Yanno. Tips . It will help you fuck better."

He knows he fucks well. Knows you're saying shit just to wind him up.

For some reason, it makes him throb .

"You keep saying how tight my cunt is," you carry on, all docile, as if your hand hasn't just wrapped itself around his cock. "But you're not really big enough for me to feel anything," you mewl with a sorry little pout.

Now if there's one thing Jeongguk's sure of, it's his size. If anything he's too big. He glances down. Your tiny hands can't even fully wrap around him. Wet hair sticking to your skin, the way you smirk is sin.

"Hey, if you want, I'm sure Jimin can give you some tips, too," you shrug, putting that final nail in your coffin. "He knows how to fuck me."

Jeongguk's heard enough. Knows he's a better fuck; but still feels the need to prove it. The way you get inside his head frustrates him so much. He doesn't know why he feels so insatiable, or how he's unable to ever just fucking control himself around you.

Dipping slightly, he grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up the wall a little bit further, leveraging you into just the right position for him. Legs wrapping around his back, you can't help but giggle a little. Tell him to be careful - "It's wet. Don't fall." - and are met with a curt reminder.

"I know how to fuck, B" he grits, lining himself up, and sinking back into you. Foreheads pressed together, you both gasp from the familiar sensation. It's so good. So satisfying.

He wastes no time fucking himself up into you, his hips just as erratic as they always are. The sound of it all makes Jeongguk think he's losing his mind. Wants the shower off cause he wants to hear you better, but knows there's no way he can even chance it. Not with Jimin next door.

"Did he get you like this?" Jeongguk scathes. He looks angry, but you know he's anything but. He's enjoying this. Enjoying you. "Did he turn you into a pathetic, slutty mess for him? Did he get you like this ?"

You whine, because it's all you can do.

"No," Jeongguk hisses. "No he didn't fucking get you like did, did he, huh?"

Brows pinched together, the familiar splendour of an orgasm is greeting you once more. You can't fucking speak. Can't do anything. Just let the sensation take hold, and shake your head.

"My dicks in your cunt, not your mouth. Answer me. Who gets you like this?"

"You," is all you can whimper. "You get me like this, Gguk."

"Yeah," he nods, a softness returning to him. His eyes; that's where you see it. What once were dark and narrow are now soft and chocolatey. Pretty . So so pretty. Full of so many stars. "I get you, don't I, B?"

If only he knew how true that statement really is. If only you could realise how true it is.

He gets you in all senses of the word; gets you coming undone, gets what you need, gets every little part of your complexities. Knows you and understands you in a way that feels almost intrusive - and yet so overwhelmingly welcome.

You nod, because at this point, you're so close you could cry . All you want to do is cum for him.

"You're so pretty when you play nicely," he praises as hips slow. There's a crease between your brows, your wanton gaze never easing up. He thinks you look angelic. Can't really control his words. Feels like you're controlling him. "Makes me wanna kiss you. Pretty little well-done kisses for my pretty little fucktoy."

Oh, fuck . That one? Yeah. That one does it for you.

One of the hands gripping his shoulders falls to your pussy, a little sore from how well he's been fucking you, but desperate for relief. He doesn't stop you. Just watches you as you get yourself there. His hips are so slow. He wants to feel it.

"Please," you beg . "Show me how well I've done."

It kind of takes Jeongguk by surprise. He thought kissing would be off the cards. It's sort of why he went down the mean route. Didn't realise how much it would just make him wanna praise you, instead.

"Hmm?" He simpers, nose nudging against yours. You've missed it so much. Like it when he fucks you from behind, but are far too obsessed with the way his nose nestles into yours.

"Please, Koo," you whisper. "Please kiss me."

That's it . That's the name that really gets him. 'Jeon' will have him hard, and any kind of title, really, will get him a little horny, but what makes him weak ? It's when you're soft for him. Makes him feel more masculine than any other name could. God it makes him wanna fuck you raw until he cums. Always pulls out, but fuck . You get him primal. Get him wanting to fill you up with his cum, all nice and warm.

"You want them?" He husks against your lips, pressing down ever so softly.

His kiss is light. Tender. Delicate. Everything he hasn't been since he started fucking you. Just a single one, that leaves you wanting so much more.

"I've been so good," you bargain, hoping he'll think you've earned more than just one. It's a dangerous game you're playing. This was supposed to be about sex. Just sex. Was supposed to undo the wrongs of the night before.

But as Jeongguk smiles, creases form beneath his eyes. He nods. Cups your jaw with his hands. "So good for me, B. Such a good girl."

The pace at which you're touching yourself increases. You're so close. He knows this. Can hear it in your breathing. Waits it out. Waits for the whines; for the throbbing of your walls around him, for the digging in of your nails to his neck. When it happens, Jeongguk thinks he might die.

The sensation washes over you, his thick cock just as painfully desperate to fill you as your pussy is to milk him. The orgasm is fast, and hard, and over far too soon. Gets you drowsy. Pliant. Pathetic.

God, he loves it. Loves the switch that comes from watching you come undone.

"Deserve more kisses," is all you mumble before Jeongguk presses his lips to yours. He retracts. Repeats. Again. Again, again, again. Dainty and docile, his lips barely ghost yours before he finishes them. He's deliberately making you crave him.

And you know he won't give you any more than this; so you offer a compromise.

"Will you cum in my mouth?"

Jeongguk nods into a tender, final, kiss. "Yeah."

He eases you off of his cock, and is gentle as you get to your feet. Knows your legs are a little shaky, so keeps a hold of your hand as you get to your knees.

All you want is to take him in your mouth. He's so big, and covered in you. The least you can do is clean him up. 

You look up at him, mascara smudged on your glittery cheeks, eyes wide and wanting as your lips part. Your tongue kitten licks against him; his head, his slit, his frenulum. Tasting yourself on his cock makes you a little feral. The way your tastes compliments one another is delectable . Mouthwatering. 

So docile and willing to please, Jeongguk wants you choking on his cock - but he knows better.

"Uh-uh." He smiles so fondly as he looks down at you that you almost think you could cry. His hand strokes your cheek, while the other replaces the tiny hand of yours that was on the base of his cock. "That's not on the birds, now, is it, B?"

You shake your head. Pout. You wanna suck it so badly.

"Mouth open," he whispers. You do as you're told, and wait patiently for him to rest himself on your pouty bottom lip. "That's it. You have any idea how gorgeous you are, like this?"

And here he is, you think.

This is the Jeongguk you're used to; the one who forgets his filter on the verge of an orgasm.

Lips hanging slack, Jeongguk's grip on his cock is tight. The way he jerks himself off is something you're well acquainted with now, but you're just as mesmerised each and every time; how engorged and angry the shiny red tip of his cock looks, the darling vein that runs down the length of his shaft, how precum pools around his slit, all messy and needy for you.

For all he can taunt you about how desperate you always are for him, you can do just the same back. Your desire is met, matched, mirrored.

He's obscene as he cums; celestial in the way he bites down on his bottom lip and gives a pained nod, chest heaving, the muscles in his tummy beginning to tense in the way they always do. You neglect to look at his cock as he unloads himself into your mouth, favouring his eyes, instead. He can barely keep them open; forces himself to because there's no way he won't squirrel away the memory of this.

"Pretty little mouth," is all he manages to whine. "Gonna fuckin' ruin it."

You're so pliant for him. Yielding to his needs; his desires. You'll do whatever he wants if it means you get him cumming - and you do. He cums so hard. Unloads spurt after spurt of hot cum onto your tongue and down your throat.

You put it down to a power complex. Weak men are your favourite kind of men.

At least you tell yourself that, as if you don't adore the way it feels when Jeongguk is a little more assertive with his wants; a little more aggressive .

He gets Mars in his eyes every now and again, and while you've never felt the full brunt of it - he always reins himself back in - you are intrigued by it.

You wonder if he and Mars used to be friends; if Jeongguk will ever let him take over for a night. You could be Venus for him, if he wants. Would be a dangerous game to play, mind you. Their moments together were masked in secrecy, and once the blanket was lifted, their affair was no more. Would be an awful shame for you both to suffer the same fate.

And so don't entertain the idea. Don't tempt him.

Seeing what you could be isn't worth losing what you are.

What you are, as Jeongguk holds your hand to pull you back up, twisting the shower head so it rains down on you once more, is friends .

Just a little overly familiar friends.

He likes making you cum, and you're a pretty big fan of returning the favour, but once post-nut clarity kicks in, you're both just idiots who are a little too brazen for their own good.

It's proven in the way you behave in the moments following; how you ask for the conditioner and he gives you shaving foam instead, how you hog the shower until he quite literally has to pick you up and move you out of his way. There's fun to be had in the comfort of your best friend; the ability to be naked and not sexual at all.

Then again, it's not like you're ever like this with Danbi. Not like Jeongguk would even dream of sharing a shower with Jimin.

It's weird. You know it's a little weird.

You like it, though. Don't want to lose it.

Jeongguk is the first to leave the bathroom.

Jimin is right where he was half an hour previously. Still snoring, still ignorant to the fact Jeongguk just railed you in the shower they share.

Taking a moment to gather your things and slip Jeongguk's shirt back on, you check yourself over in the mirror that Jeongguk wiped down a little bit with his hand. There's a blush to your cheeks, and a vibrancy to your eyes that you haven't seen in a while. It's like your hangover never existed... but then you're thinking about it again, and the unpleasant lull of a headache seems to return.

Sex, as it turns out, is just a distraction, not a cure.

When you arrive in his room, Jeongguk is flopped on his bed, his back pressed into his sheets, looking up at his phone. He's just in boxers, hair wet, lip ring shining in the light. There's a perplexed look to him, so you flop down too.

Knowing you'll ask, he passes his phone over. On the screen is an instagram profile of a guy you don't know - but recognise his display picture was taken in the gym that Jeongguk frequents. An uncomfortable knot ties itself in your tummy. Where you once felt giddy from the attention given to you by Jeongguk, you feel guilt.

Tapping on his icon, you open up his story and are confronted by the very thing that had made Jeongguk look a little miffed.

It's Jiyeong, that's for certain. The dude she's kissing? You've no idea. The caption across the middle of the photo is childish. 'Come get your girl, bro'.

You lock the phone and pass it back. He just tosses it onto the rug beside his bed.

"Ugly font," you simply say. It's that hideous, spindly cursive one. You're not sure why anyone chooses it. Would rather die than willingly post it to your story.

Jeongguk agrees. Doesn't smile, though. Isn't really sure what to do or what to make of it.

He doesn't really care that it's happened. Literally fucked you as soon as he could without moral complexities. Even if he wanted to be upset, he'd be, like, the world's biggest hypocrite.

It's the public humiliation that really frustrates him. She's done it last night in Dionysus, and he can't help but feel like she orchestrated this, too. Doesn't wanna be a laughing stock. Hates that he'll get to the gym and people will know his business.

His silence doesn't convey this.

Just makes you think he's disappointed. Sad. Upset that she's with someone else.

Makes you think that maybe the sex hadn't been about you.

You're rigid beside him, unable to move, not wanting to breathe. There's a weight on your chest, like a hundred and one books dictating the impact of having a lover who strays. You could write a few. Add them to the pile.

Jiyeong's done wrong, yes, granted. Did him wrong first.

But Jeongguk fucked you before he even sobered up from the night out. It all feels sordid.

In the moment it had safe and secure, yet now it feels illicit and ill-willed. Dirty. Nasty. Foul.

You're no better than the girls who used to climb into Seokjin's bed and use the lube you bought to get themselves ready for him . You're every single girl you have blocked on instagram because you couldn't trust yourself not to stalk their profiles looking for signs of him.

You've been cheated on. This is different granted - Jeongguk has always been single - but it still makes you feel like you've done something wrong .

The silence you let linger is unusual. You normally always fill the space. Jeongguk turns his head to get a read on you, and notices the tremble of your bottom lip instantly.

"Hey," he says softly.

Oh, it's horrible. You feel rotten from the inside out.

But he's so nice.

"B?" He implores when you don't respond. A tiny tear trickles down your temple and tickles your earlobe before getting lost in your hair.

Jeongguk sits up now. Turns his body towards yours. Keeps a palm pressed down into the sheets to keep his balance, but brings his other hand to rest just above your belly button. Rocks you a little.

"Talk to me, B," he says, all thoughts of Jiyeong obliterated from his head. Could not give a shit about whatever has happened with her. You take priority.

You always do.

You just shake your head. Dab at your cheeks with the heels of your palms. Jeongguk knocks them away. Wipes away your tears for you with his thumb, instead.

"Hey?" he whispers so tenderly it's as if he's scared his voice could bruise you. He lifts his palm from your torso, fearful that maybe it's his touch that has you like this. Worries that he did something wrong. "What is it? Was it the shower? Hey?"

Yes, you think. It was the shower.

"I'd never do anything I didn't think you wanted," he panics. He's always so firm with consent and making sure you can tap out, but now he's anxious that he missed a signal in the midst of being mean. He doesn't know what to do. "Please tell me what I did."

"No," you breathe out when you realise the conclusions he's jumping to. "No, Gguk, God. No. Not you. I just... I feel really bad."

Jeongguk could cry from relief. Think he might, as he asks, "about what?"

You shrug. Look up at the birds. Pout. The pity parade is in full swing. "I set you two up, and the second you're done, I jump into bed with you?"

The way you sneer at yourself is so cruel that Jeongguk doesn't quite understand it. You both made this choice. He's just as much to blame as you are. He looks at you, and doesn't recognise the contempt in your features. You're not looking at him, for it's not directed his way. This is all on you. You're the villain in this story, you think.

Jeongguk pauses for a moment. Tries to figure you out. Flops his back down onto his bed. Reaches for your fingers and holds them against his chest with both of his hands, like he's wrapping you up in white flags. It's okay. You don't protest.

"I don't know if this will make a difference," he admits, finally being candid about his feelings. "But I wanted to end things weeks ago."

You're sure Seokjin said the exact same thing to his mistresses.

"So why didn't you?"

Jeongguk takes a second to muster up his courage. There's nothing to be scared of. It's just you.

And so he's honest.

"You," he says quietly.

"Me?"

He nods. "Was scared. Thought you'd be disappointed in me..."

You glance over to him now, and are shocked by how sincere he appears. "What?"

"You just... You were doing so well with birds, B. I was lagging behind and I thought that if I did the bird then we'd both be well ahead and I just... I know how much you wanted me to do them, too. I do want to do them. She just... wasn't the right fit for me."

The best way Jeongguk can think to describe it is switching to mittens after wearing gloves all winter. There's always gonna be something missing.

But that means admitting you're the gloves in this situation.

He's hardly gonna admit that to himself, let alone anyone else.

"Gguk," you say, a little exasperated, wishing he'd have just been straight with you from the get-go. You know you encouraged it, but you never meant to make him feel like he didn't have a choice. "I'm so sorry. Please, don't ever think you have to do things just for my benefit. Your birds are for you. I'm so so sorry."

Jeongguk just shrugs, his shoulders rustling against his sheets. "Was a learning experience. I admit the Jiyeong thing is a bit messy, and I don't love feeling like a shitty person, but you did nothing wrong here, okay? This one's on me."

He doesn't let you argue against him. Absolves you of blame, and won't hear otherwise. You don't fully accept this, and still feel a little terrible, but hangovers always amplify it.

But now that apologising is a thing, Jeongguk feels like he should say sorry for being mean in the shower.

You think he's ridiculous.

"You were so nice to me," you tease him, before doing potentially the worst impression he's ever heard. " Oh B, you're sooooo pretty." Jeongguk just rolls his eyes. Is pleased you're smiling again. "I'm gonna think you're in love with me if you aren't careful."

"I literally called you a slut?" Jeongguk laughs, throwing his towel at you as he stands to get the water. It hits you square in the face, but you just bundle it into your lap, a big grin plastered all over your face. It's like you're bubbling over now that he's remedied your woes; so chatty and happy. He likes it so much when you're like this. "You can be pretty and the bane of my life all at the same time."

With a shrug, you lie back down, his quilt a comfortable haven. The birds above you gently waltz, the air from Jeongguk's a/c encouraging them to twirl together.

"Been called worse names and not been given an orgasm," you assure him.

"Well next time I'll be meaner," he promises. "And I deliberately won't make you cum."

You gasp. "You'd never do such a thing."

"You wanna bet?"

A grin settles on your lips. "A little."

He just laughs. "Shame it isn't on a bird."

As if you've really been following that rule.

"Well, why don't we make some more?" you suggest, not really thinking much of it.

"More?" he questions.

He sees the lack of birds as a sign of accomplishment; something to be celebrated. Doesn't understand why you'd want to add more.

However, he also knows at this point he likes his life better when you're doing the birds. Feels like he's actually progressing as a person. Plus, it gives him more excuses to fuck you, he figures. Will never say no to that.

"Yeah," you nod. "Like resolutions, almost. Things we wanna get done by the end of the year, just specific to..."

You trail off, unsure of how to phrase it.

"Shagging?" he offers, but you feel it's too brash.

" Personal development ," you counter. "Your fears and mine, but maybe some extra ones thrown in there."

"So that means I can put my own version of your birds up?" He asks, to which you nod.

"Go wild. Forget the planes, just make them birds, now. Although," you muse. "What were the birds?"

Jeongguk absolutely does not want to answer that.

Some of them were a little... unorthodox. All things he's yet to explore, he doesn't feel that confident voicing them out loud. Worries that you won't like them, or might think they're strange.

He's yet to realise there's very little you won't do if you're horny enough - and unfortunately for you (or should that be luckily?) Jeongguk seems to have a way about him that gets you there.

When you're like this, laughing and joking about the intricacies of sex, you're not hot and bothered. It's all just fun and games.

You know the second that his hands are on your body again, you'll melt.

It's why distance is a good idea, you think as you move to sit on his desk chair, taking one of his pillows with you to hug into your chest. Your foot rests on the seat of the chair, an anklet catching in the light, chin resting on your knee. You don't wanna encourage any more repeats of the night before. Or this morning. Or the inevitable evening that will follow if you stay in his room all day wearing his clothes.

It's just one of his things ; like sweet perfume and pretty wrists. Anklets and girls wearing his glasses. Add wearing his shirt to any of those?

Yeah. He's done for.

It will get him firm .

He's not been entirely soft all day - but he is incredibly good at holding himself back. Enjoys spending time with you without the pressure of sex. Not his fault he just wants it all the goddamn time.

As long as you don't get too playful, he'll be fine. The second you give him the eyes - those ones he likes so much that you don't even realise you're doing - he'll probably die.

"Any hard limits?" he asks.

"I don't know," you consider out loud. You've never considered yourself vanilla, but there are still certain roads you haven't been down; some you don't care for. "Fisting?"

Jeongguk snorts. Looks down to his hand that's resting in his crossed lap. The other is firmly pressing into the sheets behind him, keeping his back supported. "Okay."

The way he says it, almost like he thinks you've told the biggest lie since Milli Vanilli existed, has you recoiling a little. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs. Tries to hide his smirk. Fails miserably. "Well, it's just... We're not that far off."

"Sorry?"

Jeongguk resists the urge to say 'forgiven'. Doesn't wanna sound like Jimin. The way you're looking at him really does have him wanting to wind you up, though.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he says, and then raises three fingers, as if he's giving you a fucking Boy Scout salute. "Halfway ther-"

He's cut off with a pillow hitting him in the face. You are, for no good reason, mortified. It's your pussy they've been inside.

"It's true!" He protests with a laugh. "I'm not saying I want to, I'm just saying of all the things to have limits for..."

"You are not punching my vagina!" You hiss whisper at him.

"Well, I wasn't gonna be violent about it!"

"Good!"

"Great!

"Fine!"

"So... no fisting?"

"No," you laugh. "No fucking fisting."

He's not gonna take it as a challenge. Not gonna try and change your mind. Really isn't interested in it. Agrees that it really would feel a little too aggressive for the way he normally fucks you.

Normally . Jeongguk laughs to himself when he realises what he's just thought. You've not fucked enough times for there to be a 'normal'.

"What about you?" You deflect. "Any limits? Cucking? Ass play-"

"Woah, woah," he says. "Give me a chance to think, B."

"Sorry," you say shyly.

"Don't wanna be cucked," he says. "Switch it round, and like, I was fucking someone while their husband or whatever watched? Think I could get down with that," he says.

"Well, I'm not getting married any time soon, so."

"Exactly. It wouldn't work for us," he says, not even considering exploring it without you. "Now, ass play on the other hand?"

"Hmm?" You grin a little bit. You both know he's interested in it. Doesn't ever bloody shut up about arses.

"I like it," he shrugs. "Nothing, like... too extreme. Rimming, fingers, stuff like that? Yeah. I like it. Giving and receiving."

"Interesting," you nod, jotting these preferences down on a pad of sticky notes on his desk. He says nothing when you pick up his glasses and put them on. Knows you won't be able to see jack shit through them. Puts a checkmark in the box next to his mental list of things that gets him horny. "Nothing too extreme... Does that write-off pegging?"

He's quiet for a moment. Considers it. Then admits, "it really is one of the planes. Wasn't joking. Never done it... kind of... curious?"

"Curious," you nod. "Cool. I mean it's fine with me."

Jeongguk looks surprised at how quickly you just... agreed. Didn't even have to explain himself. "Really?"

"Yeah?" You laugh. "Gguk, I'm hardly gonna judge you, am I? And anyways, I fuck girls, too. I know my way around a strap."

He coughs. Always forgets, as if he hasn't quite literally seen you leave Dionysus before hand in hand with girls that aren't Danbi. Tries to cover his little splutter. "Good. Uh, I mean. Yeah. Good to know. Do you... you know?"

"Have one?"

He nods.

You shake your head.

"Seokjin," you start, before deciding that his name isn't welcome. "My ex, I mean. He wasn't a fan of... toys? I guess. I don't know. He was so prim and proper. Hated going to grab a condom and being greeted with a cock bigger than his."

Jeongguk laughs. Thinks maybe he'd be intimidated, too. "Okay. Kinda makes sense. Do you have any? Like toys, in general? I've not really ever experimented with them."

Curious how he doesn't mention the literal fleshlight in the drawer next to his dresser. Maybe he will one day. Just not today.

"Just a vibrator," you say without much care. You don't feel shy around him. "Went through a second purge after... my ex. Got rid of everything bedroom-related that he'd touched. So. Yeah. That's it."

He nods. "Well if there's stuff you wanna try in that department... I'd be up for it."

Jeongguk comes to join you by his desk and takes the sticky notes from your possession. He rips the block in half, two even piles now where there once was one. He tosses one of the halves back down to you, and grabs a pen before returning to his bed.

"Write the thing you want to try on the back of them. We'll stick them up so they look blank, then pick them off one by one and get them done," he says.

"It's like the birds all over again," you laugh, but Jeongguk gasps.

"Don't. They'll hear you and get sad you're replacing them."

"I could never replace them," you feign offence to his accusation. "I love our kids."

"And yet I'm the one with sole custody," he teases.

"Not for long," you assure him, nodding toward the three piled on his desk. "I'll report you for neglect and take over guardianship."

"Hey," he pouts. "This is their home. You can't take them."

"Fine then," you smirk. You like it when he's a little ridiculous with you. "I'll just move in."

"Fine," he shrugs. Fights a smile. Is so glad to have you back. Overwhelmingly pleased that things are now as they always were.

The pair of you jot down ideas for far too long, and end up covering an entire section of his wall in sticky notes.

Occasionally you call out ideas - "Threesome?" "Sixty-nine?" "Bondage?" - but are always met with the same response: "Shut up and write your damn sticky notes, Byeol."

By the time you're done, there are barely any sticky notes left. It's a lot of things to complete. A lot of resolutions to stick to. His wall is almost like an art installation, but you both know the real magic is hidden on the back of the notes.

Both looking at it, Jeongguk holds out his palm for you to slap yours against it.

"Good job, team," you nod.

"Well done us."

It's mid-afternoon and you're still feeling fragile. Jeongguk needs some sort of energy drink as a pick-me-up, so heads to the corner shop for you all. Jimin is also still in a state of disrepair on the sofa, but he has at least got Netflix going, now.

Sinking into the sofa next to him, Jeongguk's shirt hanging off you like a bloody parachute, you tuck your legs up onto the seat. Jimin groans, and asks if you feel like you've been hit full-pelt by a falling tree branch, to which you just nod.

"Whatever he put in those starfuckers last night must have been lethal," you hypothesize.

"Mhmm," Jimin agrees. "Was probably jealous we were having fun without him. Did I get home with you guys? Can't remember a fuckin' thing after midnight."

You shake your head, not that Jimin can see you. He can feel the slight movements of your body, though, and it makes his stomach lurch. His oesophagus burns from the vomit he's swallowed back down a handful of times already this morning, his system well and truly fucked from last night's escapades.

"Showed up at like... I don't even know," you admit. "Sun was rising, though."

"Christ."

"Mhmm," you hum. "Sat in your pants for a bit, then refused to go to bed. Felt like looking after a toddler."

Now this does make Jimin laugh - which he immediately regrets, 'cause his stomach feels like a stowaway log flume on a water rapid ride. He nestles his head further into the side of the sofa, then attempts to sit up. Thinks laying down impacts his bodily functions.

"Jeongguk ended up putting you to bed," you add, just to let him know.

Jimin's smile is soft. Childish. You know he's about to say something immature, but don't mind. It's nice not having to worry about escapades of the past when talking with him. "Daddy energy."

You snort. "Oh, the Daddiest."

"Bet you it's a thing for him," Jimin adds.

"What? Daddy?"

"Yeah. He's too... good," Jimin decides. You think he's trying to bait you. Trying to smoke you out. "So clean and tidy. Gotta be hiding some sort of filth."

You roll your eyes and toss a pillow in his direction. "Last thing I wanna do is think about what Jeongguk's like in bed," you say.

You aren't lying. You know it will get you all hot and bothered again. Don't need Jimin catching wind of it.

"Disco Ball," Jimin says with a flat voice and raised brows, as he turns to look at you, before nodding towards the mirror in the corner of the room.

Now that you aren't busy looking at Jeongguk getting you off in it, you notice that there are pictures lining the edges of it from photo booths - dozens upon dozens of them, their friends, people you know, people you don't. Makes you sad there are none of you. There's not much to show for your friendship, not just with Jeongguk but with any of the boys. Front and center, a pair of red lips and sultry eyes steal the spotlight in at least half of the photos. You hate the way it makes you feel, and how your tummy gets so twisted thinking about her.

Unaware of your turmoil, Jimin continues. "Look at yourself. You're covered in sparkles and wearing a shirt that we both know doesn't belong to you. You know who else is unusually covered in sparkles this morning?"

You don't answer.

"Exactly." Jimin's smile is so smug that you sort of wish he'd throw up, just to wipe it away.

"You're forgetting the part where I literally painted him in glitter last night," you say.

"I'm forgetting most of the night, DB - not that it matters. You two are about as subtle as a police siren."

"Men and women are perfectly capable of being friends without fucking," you say.

He nods. "True. Doesn't mean that you aren't fucking, though."

"Oh my God."

Jimin's grilling is interrupted by the sound of the keypad beeping on the door, sounding out Jeongguk's return.

"Hey," he calls through, a plastic bag rustling as he makes sure the door is properly shut.

Without even so much as missing a beat, Jimin perks back up. "Disco Ball was just telling me about what the pair of you got up to last night."

Jeongguk pauses. Turns his head slightly as if to question what the fuck Jimin is on about. "The part where we put you to bed, or something else?"

"The part where you took each other to bed."

"Funny," Jeongguk considers. "I'm pretty sure I'd have remembered it if I shagged last night."

"Oh don't give me this bullshit."

"What bullshit?" Jeongguk feigns confusion. "Guys and girls are perfectly capable-"

"Yes, I know!" Jimin almost cries. "God, you two are the worst. Just tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"That you fucked."

"You want us to tell you a lie?" Jeongguk says so plainly that it should almost concern you how good he is at lying.

"Why are you so interested anyway?" You laugh. "You wanna join?"

Jimin considers it for a moment. Jeongguk turns his nose up in disgust. "You are going nowhere near me."

"Oh, so DB can shag you, but I can't. Thanks, Jeongguk. Nice to know where I stand in the friendship hierarchy."

"We're not shagging you little cretin," Jeongguk stresses. "You've got a good ass, though."

This pleases Jimin. "Always knew you were secretly into guys, too."

Jeongguk just rolls his eyes. Doesn't bother correcting him, 'cause what's the use? Jimin wouldn't believe him anyways, or so it seems.

"What are we watching?" Jeongguk asks as he walks over to the sofa, tossing the bag of food down on the coffee table. He doesn't need to ask. He already knows, for it's always the same answer whenever Jimin is hungover and alone. The Notebook . "Which part are we at?"

He could sit anywhere, but chooses to plonk himself down right between you and Jimin. Nestles in. Makes himself comfy, even if it means you and Jimin both have to budge a little.

"Noah's just started restoring the house," Jimin says, to which Jeongguk nods.

He knows the plot just as well as his housemate, now. Watched it every weekend for a good couple of months after the Hayun debacle. Jimin had refused to let Jeongguk go home alone, so put his love for casual encounters on the back burner.

"Always makes me think of Yoongi," Jeongguk muses a little mindlessly.

You agree. You think Yoongi would absolutely restore a house for Seoyeon. It's an apt comparison. One that has you wondering if you'll ever have someone so devoted to you they'd do something like that. For a little while, you had thought that Seokjin would. Thought he loved you in a way that people wrote movies about. Thought that despite your troubles and your differences, it would be a love story that would be adored by the masses. Instead, it's now just a cautionary tale.

Glancing over to you, Jeongguk notices your subdued features.

"You good?" He whispers, nudging your knee with his.

You nod. Whisper back. "Hungover."

It's an answer he accepts, but whether or not he believes it is another thing. He leans forward and retrieves the bright blue bottle of Powerade from the bag. "Here. It'll help."

There's hesitancy to your acceptance, a small smile tickling on your lips. "Thank you."

"Shush," Jimin hisses. "I love this part."

He proves this by reciting every single line for the next scene - 'I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year.' 'You wrote me?' 'Yes. It wasn't over. It still isn't over.' - before also deciding that he'll only feel better with a Powerade in his system, too.

Thankfully, Jeongguk planned ahead and got one for each of you. Casual conversation picks up, none of you too invested in the movie - apart from Jimin's occasional cutaways from the conversation to recite lines - and you find that things between the three of you are so incredibly easy. As much of a nightmare as Jimin can be, he's good fun - and he also gives both you and Jeongguk a buffer.

He's not sure about you, but Jeongguk knows he needs that buffer. He's still in that hideous state of hangover-horny that only a good nut can solve - but he's already fucked you. Twice within the last twelve hours. It's worse than usual. He decides that it's not his fault- but then he thinks about you indecently again, and finds himself getting all needy and hard when he really shouldn't be.

His hands are placed strategically, hiding the fact he's got a raging hard-on whilst sitting between two of his closest friends. He can't move. He cannot have Jimin seeing him like... this .

On the contrary, he wants you to see him like it. Wants you to know how badly he could do with another fuck. Thinks it would be a compliment.

It's not until Jimin goes to his room to a charger does Jeongguk reveal his affliction.

"B. We've got a problem," he whispers, lifting his hands to reveal exactly what he was concealing.

"Oh, Jesus," you gasp.

"I don't think he'll help," Jeongguk says with such a pained whine that it's hard not to laugh. "I think I'm gonna die."

"Just go get yourself off?" You suggest, because it seems like the most logical step to take. You can hear Jimin rustling about in his room. Jeongguk's hands cover himself again. "Unless..."

"God, I thought you'd never offer."

"I'm not!" You laugh.

"Okay, so you want me to die."

You roll your eyes. "You won't die."

"I might."

"You definitely won't."

"Definitely won't what?" Jimin asks as he reenters the room, phone cable in hand.

"Die alone," you say, trying to think fast, shooing away the elephant in the room. "He's worried. The film is scaring him."

"Ah yes," Jimin hums. "Romance movies. The most terrifying genre of all."

"You'd agree if you had my dating history," Jeongguk assures him, which earns a laugh.

"True."

It's sunset before you leave, and even then, Jeongguk thinks it's too soon. Wants you to stay round again. A sleepover. Wouldn't mind it without the sex; makeshift beds in the living room, midnight feasts. Would still probably end up fucking you before sunrise 'cause he's still a randy bastard and you still drive him insane, but that's neither here nor there.

Instead, he asks if you'll be around tomorrow. He'll go to the gym, but wants to grab coffee afterwards. Will probably need a friendly face, knowing how hellish it will be at Jiyeong's place of work.

How can you refuse?

Sometimes, Jeongguk's eyes are so sparkly you think he might have been a fairy prince in his past life. It's the only way to explain it. In a way, it feels like he lends his wings to you. Lifts you up. Assures you that despite all the toads, and beetles, and moles you may have kissed in the past, there'll be a bumblebee-riding fairy prince out the for you, too.

He's one of the good ones. A good boy. One that will be hard to let go of, you think as you make your way home.

And apparently, as you open your apartment door to far more of Taehyung's ass than you ever needed to see - "Holy shit." "Jesus Christ, close your eyes!" "On the fucking sofa?! Really?!" - it looks like Danbi's in just as much of a pickle as you are.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#bad decisions #jungkook smut

[tiramisusbakery]

The Auction pt. 1

Summary: Hidden Inventory Gojo and Geto play sorcerer save-a-ho {lol} a little too close to the sun and end up as love rivals to a girl from the Red Light. Leaving their little world of sorcery in the mountains, they sneak out to Tokyo, a city budding with a new thing called...quirks?

(no MHA characters btw just a slight universe clash)

So...the quirk thing is weird, but they're not asking questions, as long as they get in the club. Taking a dip into underworld affairs to test their luck, they are forced into a world of glitz, glam, and organized crime, sacrificing much more than money (but still a lot of fuckin money) to save the object of their affection from dire circumstances and win her love. MINORS DNI

#BLACKOC #jjk #Gojosatoru #Gojo #GetoSuguru #Geto #NSFW #MHAOC

Warnings: NSFW, Teens in adult situations (what else is new in jjk tbh), violence, cursing, underage alcohol consumption

OPTIONAL READ: Lore Recap for the world surrounding this fic; What started as a fun rebellious game of sneaking out from Jujutsu High to party (Gojo) and trying to do damage control as a result, only to get mixed up in the same world himself (Geto) turns into a sex addiction, a secret love affair, and a complicated set of Red Light District politics for our boys. On a night out meeting his favorite call girl, Tira, Gojo finds himself intrigued instead by her mentee, Angie, a mysterious escort with enormous wings (and something called a quirk?) Geto, looking for Gojo, found Angie first and shared a short...yet intimate...exchange with her before she sends him on his way back to JJH. Afterward, she shares a passionate night with her sensei and Geto's best friend, Gojo. Her first night as a fully fledged escort is a success! Yet, little does she know, she has become the object of the affection of the two strongest sorcerers alive.

Enjoy~

"I think i'm in love" Angie whispered aloud, more to herself than Tira, her sensei, who sat across from her at the bright makeup table.

Tira flinched, missing her nail, and sticky bright- red polish from the set she'd been working on dribbled down her index finger, dolloping onto the glossy vanity instead.

"Oh, hun."

"Why do you sound like I just told you my nana died?" Angie blinked at her from the chaise sofa that she had strewn herself across since returning from the meet and greet. 

Tira heaved a sigh, throwing her head back and letting her hair tumble down her shoulders to dust the floorboards. She met the girl's wide-eyed stare through heavy lids.

"She might as well have, babes. Please don't take this the wrong way, but you need to prioritize."

Angie avoided her gaze, and Tira felt an uncomfortable twinge in her chest for all of a second. She had a feeling she knew who it was, but what if…?

"Okay, i'll bite. Who are you in love with?"

The younger woman puffed her cheeks, prodding her pointer fingers together in quiet apprehension. "Suguru"

Tira straightened, attending to her drying manicure as if the twinge had never occured. She tried to remain neutral as she thanked her lucky stars.

"Mhmmm, Suguru." She hummed. "You mean the hot best friend of heartthrob Gojo Satoru, whom you fucked last week?"

Angie waited a beat before nodding. Tira didn't even wait to meet her eyes in the mirror before continuing.

"Suguru, whom you've fucked a total of one and a half times, only seen at night under neon lamps, and don't even know what he does for a living?"

"What was that slime monster?"

"Exactly."

"But they're just heroes! Really…weird heroes."

Tira tsked, and it was the first time Angie felt her age with the woman since they'd met. "What did I say about letting men play hero with you?"

"But he's not playing-"

"He's as serious as a 16 year old boy can be. Which, believe you me, is playing. Playing hero, noirette."

Tira felt as though she could hear Angie's heart break, and decided to change her approach.

"Little bird, when is he coming back?"

"Dunno." She muttered. Tira turned to find the girl's face in her hands, her newly defined curls curtaining her no doubt reddened complexion.

"Wanna see?"

Angie didn't react.

Whipping out her phone, Tira tapped a few keys. In just one ring came the bedroom voice of her favorite romp.

"Ye-llow~"

"Blue" she purred.

The phone went silent. Then a word, on a voice that wavered ever so slightly with boyish glee.

"Tira?" Satoru asked in disbelief.

"Its me. I need a favor."

"A-anything! Uh, well almost anything. Yes?"

"I need to know the next time you and your friend plan to come to the district together, a few days in advance. Is that alright?"

"Uh, sure. Why?"

"No questions. Just be sure to have some serious bread next time I see you. Tell your pal to empty his sock drawer. We're gonna play a little game."

Tira clapped the phone shut, and tossed it onto the counter.

Angie watched the device skitter until it stopped.

"Good. Now all we need is to choreograph"

"Choreograph? Wha-"

"Your mimic dance, of course. The one you'll do on Geto and Gojo when they bid on you."

"When they do WHAT?"

Tira was up from her chair in a moment, bouncing toward her charge with the glee of a girl half her age. 

"When they bid, my love! They're going to bid to claim you. Only one of them can, now, since they're best friends. The other will be forbidden from booking with you forever!” 

She paused.

“Or at least until you’re fully on the market and can choose your own clients, which won’t be for years. We'll see who is in love with who then~"

Angie's jaw dropped, her heart kicking in her chest at the sudden adrenaline that Tira had injected into her bloodstream.

"No. No! What if Geto can't out-bid Gojo?"

"He can and will."

"But Gojo has money. Like, old money. What if he screws him over?"

"He wouldn't do that if his friend was really in love with you"

"But what if he's not?"

"Aha! There it is."

Angie closed her wings around herself and hid in the bundle of feathers as if huddling against a strong wind. Her breathing softened to a light coo as she attempted to steady her anxious pulse.

Tira's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the scared girl. Hesitating, the woman dropped to her knees before her, and took her hands from beneath the plumage of her wings, massaging them in her own.

"Angie, baby?" She cocked her head to the side, her grin softening to one of sympathy. "You're scared, huh?"

"Yes." Her voice was muffled and small.

"Baby, this is an exercise in maturity. See this as a win win win. You get to find out if he shares your feelings without ever revealing your own, you get showered in cash, and you don't even have to show skin. Plus, nothing clears my head like a good auction."

Wait a minute, auction? Wasn't there a big one coming up? Screw the mimic dance, she might be able to make Angie a star. 

But was she ready?

"But if he loses he can't ever book with me again" the girl sniffled.

"If he loses, he'll just have to find a way to love you for free, Raven."

The girl parted her wings and a sliver of light danced in her wet, owlette-like eyes.

"You're so smart"

Tira rested her head in the girl's lap.

"I know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next three weeks, Tira strictly forbade Angie from contacting her boo-thang, and put her under rigorous training for her one shining moment as a prize between the two boys.

According to Tira, this was her first test in distinguishing work from play, where she would need to be okay being an ultimatum, a genuine variable to someone's life and limb. It was the pride and joy of geishas to move their audience beyond recognition with their art, and she needed to be worthy of that.

And beyond anything else, it was her duty to make him suffer, Tira had said- especially since he'd had the audacity to make her fall in love with him.

"These boys are brothers in arms. Why should you be what comes between them?" Tira snapped, tapping a closed fan sharply to her student's protruding hip.

This time, Angie was balancing a short stack of books on her head, atop them a teacup filled with hot tea. The steam wafted from the cup as she watched it in the full length mirror before her, reminding her of the imminent danger of dropping it.

"W-well"

"Don't hesitate. Why would one of them choose you over the other?"

"Because I am not a want."

"What are you?"

"A need"

"Yes." Tira clapped her fan and Angela posed in the second formation that had been taught to her, where she popped her chest and tucked her stomach, her fingers pinched delicately above her head and the heels of her feet raised up from the ground. She met her own eyes in the mirror, not spilling a drop of tea.

"Why should they spend their life savings, their allowance, the very last penny of their piggy bank on you?"

"Because it was never theirs, it was mine from the day they met me."

"Good!" She clapped her fan once more, and Angie adjusted in time with her command.

Tira clapped her fan, posing, adjusting, and instructing Angie until she was exhausted, and even beyond. She made the girl go days in heels until the blisters became part of her feet, and spoke to her with the kind of instruction an old madame might have given a disobedient upstart. 

And then came the choreography. Angie had been bent, bounced, and broken until she could execute every move to perfection. She was up practicing at dawn, and didn't stop until her shift every night.

Angie didn't know if she regretted telling the girl about her feelings, but if this didn't end soon, she thought she would take them back.

Angela laid flat on her back on her Sensei's plush mattress, much softer than her own last-minute sleeping arrangements, and absentmindedly addressed the burn marks in the ceiling above her as they wound the periphery of the room, looking desperately for a distraction from the stinging in her feet. She wasn't sure if Tira would be back from her last call of the night soon, and was worried to be found slacking, but the worry didn't overpower the exhaustion. 

"Ooooh what am I gonna do~" she moaned.

Her breasts were swollen in her loose grasp, having been heavy and burdened ever since she'd begun to tighten up about weaning Miku. She didn't know why she couldn't just keep letting her baby nurse- it felt better for both of them, anyway.

Well, that was a lie. She knew why, it was so she could finally move up the ranks from a rookie geisha to a full performer by her next birthday. It would make her and Miku more money, and she'd finally be able to rent her own place in the Playground. Her baby couldn't be attached to her the way she was now, or she'd be stuck until her daughter could talk.

Prodding delicately at her puffy nipples, she closed her eyes and pictured first holding Miku to them to relieve the pain, and then Geto. 

Geto could…help instead…she thought blearily, her eyes fluttering a few times before she finally drifted.

She didn't know that she'd fallen asleep until a light tap on her nose pulled her out of her stupor. Peering up into the lamp-lit halo above her, she saw her instructor's pursed, plum colored lips and arresting brown eyes, appraising her as if she were a curator and her charge a work of art.

"You're ready."

Angie's mouth snapped open and she sat up in the lush bed, holding the sheets to her chin. "How can you tell?"

Tira shrugged. It was the most juvenile movement Angie had seen her make in weeks. "I just can. Look at how you sat up, no haste. How you woke from your sleep, so graceful. Stand for me."

Angie did as she was told without a second thought, as if her body moved on its own. She swept up from the bed lightly, her posture tall, and floated to the space before Tira as if she materialized there.

Her feet hurt but her discipline had taught her to stand tall anyway. Tira circled her once, stood back, and hummed in approval.

"Yeah" Tira smiled, her eyes crinkling in the corners with a surprising melancholy. Angie wondered how much sleep she'd gotten herself over the span of her student's training. If she'd been suffering too, she hadn't let on even once. "You can feel it, too, right?" She murmured, "You're more womanly."

"I don't believe that I have changed that quickly-"

"Listen to you! I don't believe~" she held a petite hand to her lips and laughed breathily. "You sound like you have tea with the Emperor at 2pm. What do you say, shall we check in on the boys?"

"No. We shouldn't."

Tira nodded. She'd passed the test.

"Mmm there's a hot spring nearby. Let's celebrate with a late night dip, hm?" 

Angie felt a twinge in her stomach, then again, lower. Tira's eyes sparkled like pools of honey in the golden light of her candelabra as she waited for her response.

Angie let her eyes search her instructor's, tapping her cheek to draw out the moment before finally agreeing. 

"Yes, let's."

[NSFW YURI INCOMING]

The hot water felt like heaven on her weary limbs as she stretched her wings in the deep pool. She sank up to her shoulders in the delicious water, which had been mixed with a fragrant lavender oil at Tira's request. Her hair was free of her usual puffs, the coils tickling her shoulder blades as they soaked up the water.

She felt the urge to swim, but was scared to do anything that might make her seem juvenile enough to be put back in training. Instead, she dunked a cupped hand into the pool and ran it on her face and neck.

"Ahhhh~" she sighed, the last cool air of her lungs escaping into the humid room.

She was alone though, waiting anxiously for Tira to tie up her boundless hair in the changing room so that it wouldn't gain ten pounds in water weight the second she stepped into the pool. It made sense, but Angie watched the door for her anyway, trying her best to suppress the hammer in her chest when the woman finally revealed her naked form.

Her complexion like honey butter all the way down, with not a blemish to be seen, Angie watched Tira slink opposite her into the hottub, her supple curves slicing the water in two. Her large breasts buoyed themselves on the surface, and she stretched her arms above her head in languid yawn that was somehow both sensual and completely self indulgent.

Angie averted her gaze, realizing she'd been staring.

"So you do like women," Tira hummed.

Angie started.

"Yes."

"I love that you give me straight answers now," she smiled, and dimples pricked her cheeks. Did she always have dimples?

"Thank you, sensei"

"You're welcome, darling." The older woman leaned across the water, and her wet cleavage tilted toward her charge. "But I'm still just Tira. We're past all that, remember?"

Angie nodded and Tira slunk to her side, slinging an arm over her shoulder. 

"Although, I would like to call you imouto- chan, if that's okay?"

"It's okay," Angie was painfully aware of Tira's naked thigh pressing against her own under the water.

She refused to meet Tira's questioning gaze. A slow smile spread across the woman's lipstick- stained lips, a mischievous expression taking hold on her face.

"Or would you prefer something else?" 

Her arm dropped. A squeeze on Angie's upper thigh sent her heart racing. Her lungs tightened, and she couldn't breathe. None of it showed on her face.

Angie cut her eyes at the woman experimentally.

"Well, Onii- chan~" she paused, thinking. She took pleasure in Tira's widening eyes.

"Could you call me your pretty bird again?" She whispered after a beat, moving Tira's hand to her narrow waist. She couldn't believe her boldness, and couldn't believe how quickly she'd adapted either.

Tira faced her head on. 

Tira's heart shaped face was framed by long, silky tresses that stuck to her cheeks from the humidity, her large top bun crowning her head in its giant coil. Her long lashes were beaded with water, and her brown eyes glimmered like quartz. The whole image affirmed in Angie's head that her stage name "Empress" was no accident.

"Oh really, you want me to call you Pretty bird?" she sang. She leaned in, and when Angie didn't pull away, she placed a quick, wet kiss on Angie's lips. "Mmm" she licked her lips as if she'd tasted like candy. "Such a pretty bird, my imouto-chan is." She kissed her again. "My pretty, pretty…"

Another kiss, and this time Angie didn't let her pull away.

The women's bodies pressed together in the water, fitting together like the pieces of a puzzle. They drew together like magnets, their soft flesh spreading the oil along each other's skin in ferver as their tongues fought for control in each other's mouths. They haphazardly found their rhythm, Angie's core softening like molten lava at the feeling of Tira's slick treading her thigh.

"God yes~" Tira sighed against her ear as she massaged the girl's breasts on the pool's surface, taking special care around her sore nipples. "You've gotten so bold, noirette." She rubbed the mounds against her own.

Angie whimpered into the hollow of her neck as she licked and bit and kissed her as deep as she dared. She pressed the woman down onto her thigh and rocked, feeling her desire finally begin to flow.

"Onii-chan~" she whined at the feeling of Tira's fingers stroking the base of her wings. She arched her back in pleasure . "T-that feels so- ah!"

"Calling me that right now is dangerous, princess" the woman growled into her open mouth before assaulting it with her own, more hungry, more thirsty than before.

"Ah!" Angie gasped for air in the few gaps the kiss left her to breathe.

Tira ducked below the surface, slurping the girl's peaks into her mouth in one greedy gulp, never slowing her rhythm as she rode her thigh. Instead, she let her legs slide between her own, and let Angie borrow her friction. 

Angie cradled the woman's face in her hands as she suckled her, the pleasure sensors in her nipples sighing in sweet relief. She reached around to grab her ass, gripping the pillowy mounds against her as if for dear life. Tira watched her pupil's desperation build through lowered lashes.

"Brlrbrlm?"

"Hm?" Angie wondered if it was the water muffling Tira or her own thoughts.

Breaking the surface once more, she threw her arms around Angie's neck and pulled her close, letting the water help glide Tira back and forth against the girl's cunt.

"I said, do I feel like you imagined, sweetie?"

Tira peered into Angie's swimming gaze as the girl nodded dreamily. She giggled.

"Tira~" 

"Hm?"

"I'm g-gonna-"

"Awe, already?" She slowed, rolling her hips with the water. "I'm flattered."

She felt the girl shudder from the pleasure. A string of light curses escaped her delicate lips as she pressed Angie against the tub for more pressure, watching closely as her face contorted in desire. She felt the girl trying her best to hold out as she stroked her, and couldn't help but find it adorable.

Angie watched her back in awe with heavy lids as her teacher floated in her vision. Tracing Tira's figure with painstaking adoration, she reached up, tiredly, and thumbed the woman's nipples, lapping them with her tongue as she maintained what she knew would look like doe-eyed wonder. 

Tira's breath hitched, and Angie knew it worked when the woman bit her lip and leaned in to kiss her, deep. She pulled back, looking as though she wanted to devour her.

"God, Angie, is this why those boys are so crazy about you?" She punctuated the question with peck to her nose. "No wonder all these grown men want you. To take good care of you like this."

Pouting, Angie leaned up to graze her jaw with her lips. 

"You're better than any man," she sighed, planting kisses down her neck. She felt, more than heard, Tira moan.

"Awe, sweet baby~"

Smiling, Tira twirled two fingers on the surface of the murky water before using them to gently nudge her thighs aside and access her trimmed pussy.

Teasing her lips apart, Tira inserted them inside, laughing throatily as Angie sucked them in with ease.

"Ngah!" Angie sank down on the digits, rutting against them as they beckoned her forward. She couldn't understand her own thoughts outside of the coil of her teacher's fingers. Dribble poured from her mouth as Tira switched positions, spreading her mount to entrap both of Angie's thighs. 

"This makes you tighter, noirette" she hummed, as if it were a simple lesson in mathematics.

"And this-"

She bounced as she fingered her, the water pressure popping against Angie's clit as it splashed her opening. She cried out at the dual sensations.

"-is how you take advantage of your environment." She nuzzled her cheek, and began sucking on her earlobe.

"H-how are you fucking me with the water?" She gasped, throwing her head back until she saw the steamy ceiling floating above their lustful bubble.

"There's lots of things I can fuck you with, imouto-Chan" she giggled.

The giggle was choked off when Angie dipped forward and forced entry into her mouth, swallowing her lips with a ferver Tira hadn't known she'd had. For a moment they were both under the water, unable to breathe and barely caring. When they broke the surface again, Tira forced Angie to face the wall as she pressed into her ample ass, rebounding off of its ripples until pleasure throbbed in her core.

"Fu-uck!" Angie wailed, gripping the wall. Tira gasped in time with the laps of the water.

"Ah, ah, fuck, little bird…damn you feel like dough…"

With one hand holding her waist in place against her, Tira worked her hand around to Angie's slit, working her fingers in and out of her tightening hole. Angie leaned into her, her hand finding Tira's between the folds of her thighs. She forced her teacher deeper, coaxing a ripple of pleasure through her core.

"Unh~ Tira! " She whined, her cheek pressed flat against the side of the hottub. 

"Yeah?" Tira bit into her neck as she ground herself into her prodigy's plump ass.

Angie surrendered to the feeling of Tira using her body for her own pleasure, doubling over when she felt her teacher take hold of her hips.

"Fuck me, sensei" she whined, "Please?"

"You want me to fuck you baby? You want me to show you how to fuck a woman?" 

"Y-yes," she pleaded.

Angie craned her neck so that she could taste her lips one more time, and found Tira's mouth waiting eagerly for just that. Her teacher slowed, riding her ass in languid strokes as their tongues coiled into each other's mouths. Angie couldn't hold on another moment. She squeezed her thighs together, trapping their fingers, and squirting against her sensei's insistent touch. She gasped into her open mouth, and Tira held her there until she finished.

"Finger me," she purred, licking Angie's essence from her manicure. Angie quickly obliged.

Backing Angie to the wall, Tira rode her pupil's fingers on her own, bobbing in the water as she played with her own stiff peaks. 

As she bobbed, the water lapped across the tub, creating ripples that made the low-lights dance. Angie could see nothing but Tira's slender back, but felt her pleasure in every cell of her form.

Angie felt her own pussy contract again as Tira finally made herself come on her flexing fingers, casting a glance over her shoulder at her student's awed expression.

Tira slowed, holding the digits to her stiff clit as she pursued an even higher peak, forcing Angie to watch her get her nut. Angie couldn't look away.

She wailed as she came again, and again, her eyes rolling as she pinned Angie to the wall. 

"Gah!"

The woman heaved as she slid into the space between Angie's arms, finally resting in the crook of her neck as pleasure broke against their balmy skin. They let themselves stay there for a while, limbs tangled, before one of them finally spoke.

"Fuck." Angie murmured.

Tira pecked her cheek once, then twice. Lingering by her ear, she licked the crown playfully as if she was only getting started. That is, until she pulled away, and floated to the edge of the pool, giggling.

"Wow." Was all Angie could muster.

Tira smiled.

"Mmm. Indeed." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night finally arrived. 

Gojo and Geto stood across from one another on the train as it sped them toward their instructed destination, the Tokyo City Concert Hall. The car was full of salarymen, no doubt on their way home for the night, completely oblivious to the threat that either boy posed to them, or the protection they provided- but what else was new.

The pair found themselves huddled in the farthest alcoves of the rounded train they could get, away from the bustling crowd that would likely ignore them anyway, hoping the sway of the carriage muffled their words.

"I feel like something is up tonight." Geto muttered, half to himself.

"You, me, and the whole dorm. I mean,"  Gojo motioned to the suits the pair had donned in preparation for the night, "who wears these to a booty call?"

Gojo had dressed sharply in a three piece black and alabaster suit, pressed, tailored, and detailed for the night at Tira’s request. He wore a black button down and blazer jacket that matched his hair, the lapels held in place on either breast with blue sapphire pins that had been awarded to him by the Gojo clan at his 16th birthday ritual, marking his maturity and blood connection to the clan. The material of the suit emphasized the bulk he usually obscured in his dark, boxy school uniforms, his broad shoulders and trim waist making the suit look more as if it were wearing him than vice versa. 

Besides the suit, he’d hidden his eyes behind a pair of dark shades a grade nicer than his usual pair, their construction made from carved wood rather than metal, stenciled on the sides with his initials. His cufflinks caught the mechanical light of the train and winked every time he moved, their ore immutable genuine silver. The same was true of the small blue gem he wore in one ear, which Geto had never seen him wear before that night. The only thing about the boy that was recognizable was the tuft of tussled cloud-white hair that sat atop his head.

“When did you get your ear pierced?”

Gojo muttered. 

“Huh?”

“...Mei said it would look good on me.”

Geto scoffed. “Well earrings are my thing so don’t you dare-”

“Dare what? Outdress you?”

The dark haired boy smirked. No way was Gojo outdressing him in that monkey suit.

Geto had cleaned up just as well, his own scarlet and charcoal suit ironed down to the creases the way his mother had shown him, crisped from the top collar to the cuffs of his sleeves. His red satin button down matched the pocket square (which he almost hadn’t found in time) in the lapel of his dark suit, and his black tie had been pinned into place beneath a gold clip with the emblem of a dragon- a gift from his grandfather, as if he’d known about his powers in advance. 

That night, he’d exchanged his usual metal ear gauges for a pair of onyx disks that he’d bought specially for the occasion, and they glinted from his ears with a subtle glossy depth that made him look mysterious. 

Rather than precious jewelry, he’d opted for a more down to earth vibe with black volcanic beads encircling either wrist, stacked around his favorite vintage watch. His black nails had been freshly cleaned, painted, and trimmed.

Finally, not knowing how he should do his hair, he’d opted for his usual clipped bun and bangs, sweeping them away from his face as neatly as he could muster.

“I’ll admit, you look clean, but you look like you’re going to prom.” Gojo shrugged, playfully.

“And you look like you're putting Nana Gojo to rest.”

This stop is Shinjuku City- I repeat, Shinjuku City. Please watch your step. 

The boys ducked under the low- hanging sign to the station’s entrance as they stepped onto the street. They looked left and right, trying their best to not look like fish out of water. 

“I don’t suppose you know how to get there?”

“You went on map quest, right?”

The boys blinked at each other, and face palmed.

This was gonna be a long night.

After a long trek through the darkening streets of Tokyo, as well as several sets of bad directions, Gojo and Geto finally found the grand old building that was to host the variety show that they'd anticipated since Tira's call. 

With the block out front as packed with tough customers as any club, the opera house stood to be used that evening as a cooperative territory for underworld-goers and their business. The boys watched the building light up just as the last light of the day fell, its red carpet unfurled in preparation for the guests that would be stepping through the door any minute.

The large windows of the modern relic stood tall and wide, propositioning onlookers to look into them as if they were the building's eyes. Beyond them was the shimmer of multiple chandeliers, golden wallpaper, and a ceiling painted to put the sistine chapel to shame.

Geto whistled in appreciation. This was where they were meeting them? His thoughts of the weeks before replayed in his mind, where he'd asked Angie on a date after they'd…. 

Well, if this was the first date, what would the second look like? Did this even count as a date?

"Satoru?"

"Yeah?"

"What exactly did your connection intend with us when she asked us to attend this event and- quote- 'bring all the cash in our sock drawer'? "

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"And why don't I get to meet her?"

"She said that she wasn't available to me tonight, but that she wanted to proposition me on something. I don't know. She plays games like this a lot, but this is the most elaborate one yet."

"And why was I involved?" Geto cocked his head, half concerned, half amused.

"Hm. Well she said something about a game that would take both of us? And she obviously knows who you are by name, although…not sure how…" he trailed off, realizing just how little he knew about what Tira had planned for them that night.

"Uhhhuh…and what's stopping me from getting back on the train, Satoru?"

"Because I know she'll be here tonight." Gojo smirked. 

Geto's face fell, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't give me that,'' Gojo nudged him, "she hasn't responded for weeks again, but all of a sudden she did, right? And now you decide to step out with me, because you invited her, right? I'm not as stupid as my last final made me seem, Suguru."

"Well," the dark haired boy grimaced, rubbing his neck even more harshly as if trying to set it ablaze, "you're actually right, minus a few details…" 

"Suguru?"

Geto had stopped his 5am run to respond.

"Raven!"

"Hello! Sorry, can't talk long, or ill get caught. I know this is odd, but will you come to see me dance?"

"Yes! Of course, why would that be weird?"

"Because your friend with the glasses will be there too. The one you were looking for when you…found me"

"...oh. uh, sorry. Why?"

"Because it turns out that I… service him too…and my mentor is putting my services up for auction. Please be sure to win me. See you soon."

The conversation had raised more questions than answers, but after speaking to them both, Suguru knew that whatever the game was, he needed to win.

Geto's jaw muscles worked as he watched Gojo talk absentmindedly about how tight his blazer was on his shoulders. He watched the white haired boy closely, as if seeing him again for the first time.

Traitor.

Woah. Where had that come from?

Gojo turned and was caught off guard by the look in Geto's dark eyes. 

"Woah, man, you okay?"

Suguru averted his gaze. "Yeah, just nervous about seeing her, like you said."

"Well she better get here soon, we're about to head in."

The boys had finally made it to the front of the line, and knew from the moment they'd made eye contact with the doorman that they weren't getting in without a fight.

"Card carriers only" he sneered at the boys down his long, slender nose. 

"That's funny, I believe I carry a card,"

Smiling warmly, Gojo slid his fingers into the folds of his wallet, and withdrew two things- his fake ID, and a black coated metal credit card that weighed far too much for its size. Geto had never seen him use it for anything more than a status symbol, but had a sneaking suspicion that its credit limit was as infinite as its owner's technique.

The Maitre D's eyes sparkled at the sight of the card, and after flicking his eyes between the small rectangle of privilege and the boy wielding it with bright blue eyes, he shifted his gaze to Suguru.

"And you, sir?"

Geto blushed.

Before Gojo could claim him as his companion, the sound of dozens of pairs of clicking heels echoed down the sidewalk, and the boys- along with the other sidewalk dwellers, party-goers, and opera house connoisseurs- turned to see where the sound was coming from.

The first impression of the performers was that of walking art. They moved as one in shimmering outfits, their various props bobbing on their swaying hips and in their slender hands. They looked neither left, nor right, but straight ahead as they bypassed the line of patrons that gawked at their enormous presence.

"Ah, here are the ladies of the auction now."

"Auction?" Gojo questioned, the boys' eyes never leaving the parade of forest nymphs, water lillied- fairies, and exotic looking interpretive dancers.

And among them, they spotted her at once.

Raven wore a black diamond mask, her high cheekbones and lips dusted in a purple-black shade that made her look fierce and siren-like in her expression. Her wings, sprayed in a glittery sheen that made them look like a night sky full of stars, were on full display behind her, catching the attention of every onlooker that had dared to watch her. However, it wasn't just her anthropomorphic traits that had arrested attention.

The girl wore a shortened kimono that had been modified to her shapely body, the hem likely only extending an inch beyond her finger tips.

The thin veil of fabric was imprinted with white cranes and flowers throughout its tight coverage of her rounded hips and bust, rippling with extra fabric in places only to mimic waves on pitch-black water.

Further accentuating her figure was a large black- satin ribbon, encircling her torso and exploding in a bow off of her perky ass, with several strings of tinsel and black coins that protruded from it creating music in time with her walk.

And her walk; she strutted in time with the other dancers on her long, shapely legs, her more-sheer-than-sheer stockings making it look as though her thick thighs had been stuck with precious gems, embedded into her smooth mocha skin as if by magic. 

Her black heels clicked as she marched forward, her hands hidden in the long sleeves of the kimono- the only thing about it that was modest. 

In all her glory, Raven looked like a cross between a porcelain doll and a fallen angel, one that had been brought to life to seek revenge on her maker.

As if feeling their eyes on her, Angie's gaze flitted to the boys at the front of the line, just as she was about to enter the venue. They'd been frozen to the spot by her entrance.

Feeling a swell of pride, she continued to strut and avoid drinking in their looks- there would be time for that later.

That is, until she saw that the bouncer had stopped them at the door.

The girls turned at once to face the crowd, immediately catching the interest of everyone in line.

The parade of women clapped rhythmically three times, before raising their hands, and bowing deeply.

"Meshiagare!"

They repeated themselves in several languages for their foreign guests.

"Bon appetit! Please enjoy!"

And with that, they filed into the venue as fluidly as swans.

"Sir, these are my personal guests." Angie broke from the line of girls and approached the man as the rest of the performers entered, applause at their backs from the line of patrons that had watched their entrance.

Taking the maitre d's elbow in her taloned forefinger and thumb, she stood until the man brought his ear to her lips.

"Empress' request."

"Ah," the man nodded, infinitely more agreeable with her than he'd been with the two boys.

"Follow me." He said, " I have special instructions for you two."

Geto and Gojo shared a look of ultimate confusion, but- to Gojo's disappointment and Geto's painful chagrin- Raven had left in a plume of black ribbon and glitter without sparing them a second glance.

When the boys entered the venue on the trail of yet another host, they couldn't focus their eyes on anything ahead of them; all their attention was reserved for the ceiling, walls, and extremely lively crowd.

The crowd was made up of men and women from several countries and nearly all walks of life- human, half human, or otherwise. The cursed energy they felt wafting from the party goers was almost enough to make them defensive, but was still jovial enough to make them feel at home.

Men in blazers stood in huddles, exchanged business cards, and even played miniature croquette in one corner of the room; their female counterparts floated about on their arms, nodding in time with conversation and punctuating sentences with light laughter.

Before they'd gotten their barings, the host turned to them abruptly at the center of the room.

"Which of you is Suguru?"

The dark haired boy raised two fingers in acknowledgement.

"Raven would like to see you in the hall. And you must be Satoru," the host half asked, half asserted.

Gojo raised his snowy brows expectantly.

"You will be helped shortly. Enjoy the refreshments."

Before Geto could exit, Gojo placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Raven?" He asked without facing his friend head on. "That's the name of the girl you're in love with?"

Geto worked to keep his expression neutral. "You know her?"

Gojo didn't respond.

"Be right back" Geto just short of spat.

Gojo watched him go from behind the sheen of his dark shades. He was unsure of just how much Geto knew, but was suddenly very sure that he wouldn't fail this intuition test, when it came to finding out.

A waitress stepped into his line of vision.

"Champagne?"

He hesitated before picking up a long-stemmed flute. He didn't usually need the courage, but he would tonight.

~~~~~

"Mmph!" 

Geto exclaimed when he felt the girl's lips on his the second he stepped into the shadowy alcove off of the main hall.

Separating from his mouth with a small *pop* the girl dug around in her dress until she'd uncovered what she was looking for.

"Here, hurry, take this." Angie shoved a small note card into his hand, glossy and folded over so that he couldn't see what was in it until he opened it.

"I have to explain-"

"Yes. Please."

"Will you let me?"

Geto blinked, his dark eyes trained on nothing but her. His silent answer was loud and clear.

"Okay. Open the card."

He flipped it open. It was blank, save for one thing.

Taped inside the card was a small, black coin the size of a checkers piece. It was waxy and grooved, and opaque as far as he could tell.

"That is the Bidder's coin. Well, no one is supposed to know which of my coins are bidder's coins," she motioned to the remaining coins that encircled her waist and bow, "because not all of them are. There are only three."

Geto's brow crinkled.

"Wai-"

"Not done. No time. As I was saying, this is a bidder's coin." She tapped the card.  "It means that when the time comes, at the end of the night, only those with coins like yours will be allowed to bid for me. It's supposed to be a game of chance, but I need you to win, so I delivered one straight to you."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't-" Angie's eyes were large, round, and wet- "you won't be allowed to see me again."

~~~

In the next room, Gojo had successfully downed two and a half flutes of champagne, and a shot of cognac that had been offered to him by a French sailor. Apparently the French had the best cognac.

"Vous aimez?" The sailor asked, winking.

Gojo shook his head and shrugged.

"I speak Japanese, sorry" he responded, half wondering if the man had really spoken another language, or if he'd already succumbed to the alcohol.

The sailor made an 'aha' nod of the head, and motioned as if taking a swig. He then put his thumbs up and raised his brows in a questioning sort of way.

"Ohh you asked if I like it. Yeah, thanks. I-its strong."

The sailor laughed, clapping a hand on his back. Gojo hoped he'd been understood, but when he was handed another shot, his shoulders sagged. He didn't know if he could handle any more. He was already breaking the rules of his clan- the very rules that had made him an unfortunate lightweight in the first place- and needed to figure out how to say 'no' in French.

The tinkling of a glass quieted the room, and all attention was drawn to a balcony that Gojo hadn't previously noticed was there. A suited man with a long lapel on his jacket, and a slicked ponytail with shaved sides, was clinking his glass with a fork.

"Ah, esteemed guests!"

Gojo scanned the room. All of the guests looked well dressed, but some of them were hardly esteemed by his standards. Some of them looked like bodybuilders that had been painted into suits. And was that the dragon gang in the corner-?

"It is a pleasure to see you all on this hallowed night. As we finish welcoming members from outside, I thought it would be an excellent time to make a toast!"

He raised his glass, and the crowd followed suit.

"To the owners of this opera hall, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for allowing us to host our show- one of talent, valor, and prestige. 

To our girls, thank you for bringing us such a delectable assortment of entertainment to enjoy each year. You are truly the highlight of our dreary yearly toil. 

And to our donors, it is because of your generosity that we feast our eyes, stomachs, and souls on all that our little society offers.

Cheers!"

Gojo's jaw dropped. He would need to take some pointers from this man for his next public speaking class. 

He took a sip from the glass of cognac that had warmed in his clammy hand. At least, he thought he would take a sip, but the glass he drew back was empty. 

Ugh. I need to slow down.

"Now, for the rules of the night!" The man continued, his smile broadening as if the bubbles of his champagne had buoyed his spirit even higher than before.

~~~~~

"So here are the rules" Angie's tearful gaze had Suguru pinned to the wall.

Suguru swallowed fearfully. 

"Go on."

Angie gingerly grabbed at the coins looping her waist.

"These black coins will be distributed to the players on the floor. They are made of plastic and a special kind of wax."

~~~~~

"As the night progresses," the slick haired man boomed, " the wax will melt from the coin, and only plastic will remain. In order for it to melt, you must keep it warm in the palm of your hand."

~~~~~

"When the wax is gone, the other coins will be blank, but yours- and two others- will have a four leaf clover in the center when you hold it to the light."

Suguru held the opaque coin up, picturing the clover as if it had already been revealed.

~~~~~~ 

"And when it is revealed, at the appropriate time, you will ring a bell that will be stored beneath your seat. There will be three ringing bells tonight."

The man poured over the crowd with a sweeping gaze, languishing in the suspense.

"Then" he said finally, "and only then, will the bidding begin."

~~~~~

"And they will bid for me to serve them exclusively until the next game."

Geto felt like he was going to black out.

"Raven, what makes you think I can outbid anyone in there?"

"Because it's rigged. I'm not sure how besides this," she tapped the coin again, "but my sensei says that this is necessary for us to continue to see each other. I'm s-s-sorry-" Angie bit her lip.

"I promise it will be okay," she continued, "it's just that…well…I didn't know if you would do this for me."

Geto's stomach did a flip at the sight of the gorgeous girl on the verge of years.

"H-hey," he reached out a hand to sweep away one of her tears before it could streak her painstakingly applied makeup.

"Its gonna be okay. If this is what it takes, I'll do it. You did say that this was complicated for you, right? Let's make it uncomplicated."

He grabbed her hands in his and kissed them. 

"I'm gonna win. And when I do, you're gonna tell me your name, hm?"

The dark fae smiled.

"Deal."

~~~~~~~~

Gojo's attention was drawn to the door as it swung open to reveal Raven, but not his best friend. Raising a brow, he scanned the crowd to see if he could pick up his cursed energy, but it was nowhere to be found.

His eyes returned to Raven as she mingled with the crowd, the patrons bombarding her for a closer look, and eventually, a coin from her dress. She giggled as she swam her way through the thickening attention.

"Let her breathe!" The man called playfully from the balcony. "She still has to dance!"

Should I ask her where he went?

Still searching, he didn't realize he'd lost sight of the girl until she was tapping his shoulder.

"Gojo! You made it!"

He turned and looked down into her face, smiling.

"Angie!"

"Shhh! They can't know my real name here. Call me Raven."

Oh yeah, Raven.

"Want a coin?" She grinned, offering him a plastic disk from her dress.

"Uh, no, I don't think I'll be playing." He shook his head, making his vision blur for a moment. "I did want to ask you something though-"

“Are you Satoru?”

The pair turned to see yet another plain-vested host, this one with an odd birthmark in the middle of his forehead. 

“Uhh- why, yes, I am.”

“I have instructions to show you to your box ahead of the show.”

“Oh wow, box seats Gojo?” Raven’s eyes danced in delight. “You and your friend are gonna have some of the best seats in the house!”

Gojo’s brow furrowed, “Oh, wow. I didn’t even know I had those.”

The waiter shook his head. “Empress’ request.”

Damn, Tira, Gojo smirked, Little prince indeed.

“Oh, sure. Let me just get my friend-”

“Your friend has his own box.” The man quipped, matter-of-factly.

“Uh, oh, okay. Well, can I go find him anyway?”

“This will only take a moment, sir, then you can do as you wish.”

Raven nudged him. “I think Geto is in the alley just outside the back door, if you want to find him after. I have to go, but I really hope you guys enjoy!”

And with that, just like at the door, Raven disappeared with her ribbons streaming behind her.

Gojo grimaced. 

“Well, okay. Lead the way, my man.”

After several rounds of winding steps, Gojo was shown to a velvety box that already sat several other high-brow looking guests. Their chatter was light and stopped only when he entered. It was dark, so he couldn’t tell how many there were, but they all gawked at him as if he were the first entree of the night.

“Uh, hello.” He bowed.

He could tell by the chuckles that several of them weren’t japanese. A woman snapped open her fan and hid her face.

“Oookay.”

“Your seat, sir.” 

Gojo followed the tall, slender man to the banister that overlooked the venue, where a line of chairs waited. At the head of the line was a velvet chair, and on it sat an envelope with his name on it.

“Enjoy the show.” The host swept away.

Gojo scanned the chair before retrieving the card and turning it over. Attached to it was a small black coin, and a few words written in a gorgeous script that could only have been Tira’s.

“Fate finds those who do not choose their destiny, little prince.” he read aloud.

“Do with this what you will.”

[TO BE CONTINUED]

#gojo satoru #geto suguru #black oc #mha oc #jjk