#tickle fan fic

[sunsetsandsunshine]

HIII!! I saw that requests are open soo i wanna make one LMAO

Could i request a lee!Lloyd and ler!Kai fic from lego ninjago? I think that Lloyd seeing Kai as his older brother is absolutely adorable and i need some content with them. No pressure tho! Please and ty!<3

~ 𝚆𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚢-𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚢, 𝚎𝚐𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚢 (𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊…) ~

❤️💚 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 ❤️💚

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴 𝙷𝙸 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 💓💗💕💝!!! 𝚂𝙾 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚋𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙹𝙰𝙶𝙾 𝙵𝙸𝙲 👏🏾🥳🎉‼️ 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑…𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜, 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 🥲👍🏾. 𝙺𝚊𝚒 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙱𝚁𝙾!!! 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙽𝚈𝙰 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙶𝙱 𝚂𝙸𝙱𝚂⁉️⁉️⁉️ 𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙼𝙰𝙽— 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟷𝟷𝟿

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚍 🐉💚

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙺𝚊𝚒 🔥❤️

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙻𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝— 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙺𝚊𝚒 𝚒𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍…𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚌 🫶🏾! 

𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙻𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙹𝙰𝙶𝙾 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝟻‼️‼️‼️

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚙𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚌 𝚠𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙱𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚅𝙴𝙳, 𝙼𝙰𝙽:

@skyloladoodles @ziipzeepzop-eez @sunny-117

@saturnzskyzz @an0ma1y-th3d0ma1y @luigiisawesome

@what-youd-expect @berrymilkwithsugar

＊*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙹𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚞𝚙, 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 🥸🫶🏾˚*•✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Has anyone seen Lloyd come out of his room yet?” Kai asked as he finished styling his hair, walking into the kitchen where his siblings were eating breakfast. 

Call him a drama queen all you want, but he literally could not do a single thing unless his hair was completely styled for the morning.  

Which really just consisted of him putting ungodly amounts of hair gel on it to make it look spiky but shh…you didn’t hear that from me. 

“Nope.” Jay replied nonchalantly as he stuffed his face with the pancakes Zane happily cooked. Cole gagged internally at his brother’s absolutely grotesque way of eating, rolling his eyes and turning his attention to the real and ideal breakfast meal…

…Chocolate cake.

The Earth ninja snarfed down the delectable 'dessert' (you can eat cake anytime and anywhere— so is it really a dessert?) down his throat, making sure to leave no crumb left on the plate. 

Kai shivered at the two ninja’s…unique way of eating, sitting down next to Nya as he rested his cheek on his palm. “It’s…like, eight in the morning. Lloyd would usually be up by now...”

“It is currently nine in the morning.” Zane calmly corrected.

“My point still stands nonetheless!” The hothead shouted. 

“Maybe he just wants to sleep in.” The Lightning ninja suggested with a full mouth, “Remember how late we used to sleep in when we just started training to become ninja(s)?”

Nya huffed out a laugh, sipping her tea quietly, “Me and Master Wu would have to pour water on all of you guys just to wake you up…”

“Good times...” The freckled face teen remarked as he chugged his orange juice. The fire ninja cringed at the action, looking at his slightly older brother in complete disgust, “You are going to actually chokeif you keep eating and drinking like that...” The red cladded ninja commented. 

Jay rolled his eyes at the other’s remark, “Oh pleeease. The universe loves me way too much for that.”

“What universe are you referring to? Because it definitely isn’t this one.” The Water ninja giggled.

“Yeah…that sounded waaaaaay better in my head...” The Lightning ninja giggled back.

Cole and Kai shared an amused knowing glance at each other as they saw the two blue cladded ninja’s laughing with each other. The Ice ninja finished making the remainder of the pancakes, putting them onto a plate and putting said plate in the middle of the table.

“If you’re concerned about Lloyd’s irregular time in bed, perhaps you should maybe check up on him?” Zane suggested as he sat down at the table, giving the red themed ninja a soft smile. 

“Yeah…you’re right, man. I’ll be right back.” The spiky brown haired teen said as he got up from the table, shaking his head fondly as he heard a random fight between Cole and Jay start to break out. 

Now…you’re probably wondering why Kai is so worried in the first place since he isn’t known to be a huge worrywart. If he was being completely honest, that was usually Zane and Cole’s job. But you did not hear that from him. 

If there was anything Kai was best known for, it was probably being awesome, hot, brave…aaaand we’re getting off track here. But you see his point. 

It’s been a couple months since the whole…possession thing. And let’s just say the awesome, hot, and brave Kai everyone once knew and loved was on edge. 

If he could bring Morro back to life, kill him, bring him back to life and kill him again about a million times…he would definitely do so in a heartbeat. 

And in all honesty? During the months of recovery…it was honestly heartbreaking to let what happened settle in fully. Some parts of Kai still didn’t want to believe the events that had happened within the past few months had…well, happened. 

His little brother was possessed, forced to fight his family and friends, forced to fight the fucking fucker that possessed him and many more things Kai doesn’t even want to think about right now.

So…yeah. The red themed ninja was rightfully worried for his little brother. 

The amber eyed teen ran an anxious hand through his hair, exhaling loudly as he knocked on the closed door belonging to bedroom him and his sibling’s shared. 

No answer.

The red cladded teen knocked a tad bit louder the second time around but there was still no answer heard from the other side. The brown haired ninja opened the door slightly, peeking and looking around to find his little brother…fast asleep on his bed.

Kai snorted at the sight, his worry washing away as he sat on the edge of the youngest ninja’s bed, ruffling his hair ever so slightly, “Lloyd~! Wakey wakey, little bro!”

The blonde slowly turned his head to his big brother, his face morphing to any icy glare as the brunette tried to stifle a giggle at the sight. “Why do I have to see your face this early in the morning…?” Lloyd grumbled.

“Hey!” The amber eyed ninja squawked, “I’ll have you know seeing this bag of handsomeness any day is a blessing. You should feel lucky you get to see this beauty constantly.” 

“Ughhhh…why couldn’t you have come with Nya or something? That would’ve at least evened out the ugliness.” The youngest said, his small tired smile widening as he saw his brother’s clearly offended expression.  

“Okay…wow. My bad for coming in to check up on you.” The brunette exclaimed as he rested the back of his head on the Green ninja’s back. The hazel eyed teen groaned at the action, sinking deeper into his pillow.

“Dude, come onnnnn. Get out of bed, it’s time to start the day.“ The eldest said. 

“But it’s so earlyyyyyy…” The younger whined, sinking deeper into the blankets and stuffed animals he had on his bed. 

Kai raised a brow, “It’s nine in the morning.”

“Yeah! That’s early. Now let me get my oh-so precious beauty sleep. I need to recover from seeing your hideousness.” The blonde said sassily as he started to drift back to sleep.

Kai quickly shook his brother awake, not letting the kid in green pajamas visit the land of dreams quite yet. “Lloydie…I have no problem with you sleeping in, but at least get some breakfast in your system first.”

“Fuck breakfast.” The Green ninja murmured. 

The Fire ninja audibly gasped at the curse, trying his absolute best to not cry from proudness. 

That little green ball of snot was starting to act like him more and more everyday! 

…And Kai doesn’t know whether he should be happy about that or concerned for the near future.

“Wha— young man! We do not use such vulgar language in this household!” The hothead scolded, (even though he was very much proud).

“Who taught you to speak like that anyway?!” The elder huffed.

“Uh…you?” The youngest said blatantly.

“…I did?”

“Uh…yeah?”

The brunette rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “Oh, whatever. Just don’t repeat those kinds of words in front of your Uncle, got it?”

“Mhm.” The younger said uninterested.

“But anyways…I want you to get up and eat. Come on. Up and at 'em.” The spiky haired teen said as he tried to lift the other up from the bed, but the younger stayed exactly where he was.

Kai groaned, getting up from the bed as he glared at his brother, “You can be really fucking stubborn when you want to be, y'know that?” 

“I get it from you.” Lloyd deadpanned as he closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

“That’s why it’s so annoying.” The spiky haired teen huffed, his eyes slightly widening as an idea popped into his head.

A very mean idea but an idea nonetheless. 

“Lloydie-loo~!!” The elder sang in a sweet-song voice…a voice the youngest knew far too well. The Green ninja opened his eyes once more, looking at the other skeptically. “What is it now?” The blondie asked. 

“If you don’t get up…I think a certain someone is gonna come and get you~!” The brunette grinned, “Do you know who that special certain someone is~?” 

The hazel eyed teen sighed at the question, personally not in the mood for guessing games but doing it for the sake of entertaining his older brother, “Uh…pfft— I dunno…? Zane maybe?”

“As much as I’d love to see Zane ramble about how having breakfast is a very vital start to your day…that’s not who I’m talking about.” The amber eyed teen snickered. 

“Master Wu?” Lloyd tried again.

“Nope!” The spiky haired ninja grinned, adding extra flair to the simple word by adding a pop sound to the 'p' at the end. 

“Alright…I’m at a loss. Who is coming to quote on quote 'get me?'” The blonde teenager asked, doing quotation marks with his fingers. The red themed ninja grinned evilly at the oh-so innocent question his brother asked, sitting on the edge of the bed again. “I’ll give you a hint. He’s a monster and his first name rhymes with pickle.”

The Green ninja’s eyes widened, “…you wouldn’t dare.”

“Wanna bet~?” Kai chuckled as he inched closer to the smaller teenager, wiggling his fingers teasingly. 

“Ihi’m gohonna kick yohou if you gehet ahany closer! I-Ihi’m seheherious!!!” The blondie giggly threatened which Kai couldn’t help but coo to. The fire ninja knew damn well his baby brother was a literal god and could beat him and the rest of their siblings up any day. But if you removed that true fact from the equation, the Green ninja was just a little kid at heart.

A very ticklish little kid at heart. 

The smaller teen internally screamed as his brother was inching closer and closer towards him. Without thinking, the blonde kicked his foot towards the other’s face, expecting a screech of pain from his big brother but was only met with a low and deeply terrifying chuckle.

The elder had effortlessly grabbed the kid’s ankle, smugly looking at his little brother, “Awe…is this for me~?” 

“N-Noho! Noho ihit’s not! Gihive meehee my foot b-bahack!” Lloyd giggled, trying to pull his ankle out of the other’s grip.

“But you literally just handed it to me!” The hothead snorted, trying his absolute best not to gush about his baby brother’s complete and utter adorableness. 

The older made dramatic groaning noises, holding the top of his head with his free hand, “Oh no! L-Lloyd! I think…I think I’m transforming…!” 

“N-Noho you’re not, yohohou bihig dork!”

“Yuh huh. Same thing happened last week.” Kai stated, doing weird and unusual cult-like movements with his head before landing his eyes on his brother; soft (yet petrified) hazel eyes meeting a determined amber. 

The younger broke eye contact, lying back on his bed as he covered his face with a pillow, giggling in anticipation. 

The figure in front of him that he just made eye contact with was not the big brother he knew and loved…

That was The Tickle Monster. And that fiend would not stop until he got what he wanted.

“Awe~! Are you hiding your face from me~?” The brunette grinned, using one finger to glide against Lloyd’s foot. The blonde squeaked at the mean yet soft sensation, his grip on the pillow tighteneing as he refused to laugh. 

He was not going to give The Tick— I mean…Kai that satisfaction. 

No way, José.

The fire ninja sat on the bed, pretending to hum in thought before he scratched his fingers alongside the other’s med arch. The youngest ninja let out a squawk, his plan about not laughing literally flyingout the window as loud squeals and giggles poured out of his mouth. 

“Oho~! That’s a good spot, huh~?” The spiky haired teen teased, clearly amused that his brother was able to cave in so soon. 

“N-NohOHO! N-NAHAT aha goohOOD spahat!” The hazel eyed ninja denied, shaking his head as he desperately tried to retreive his foot. “Ohhhh no you don’t, mister. You gave this to me, remember? No take-backsies.” 

“IHI DIHID nahAT gihive myhy foHOOT toohoo YOHOU!” Lloyd squealed, trying to kick his big brother with his free leg. Kai tutted in disaproval, releasing the green pajama wearing kid’s foot before sitting on his ankles, scribbling all over both of his feet. “Fine. Is this better?” The elder asked inocently.

The younger teen squealed, “Nahat beHEHETTER AHAT AHAHAHALL!!” 

“Not better~? Not even a liiiiittle bit~?” The other asked as he tickled underneath the blondie’s toes. “EEEHEE— squeak! NAHAHA! NAHAT BETTER!!”

The taller teenager chuckled, getting up from the kid’s ankles before sitting in his waist, digging his hands into Lloyd’s underarms. The hazel eyed ninja immediately shot his arms down at the action, hugging his middles and shaking his head back and forth whilst cackling like a mad man. 

In a result to all the movement, the pillow the blonde was once holding fell down to the floor, revealing the face of a very giggly Green ninja. 

“Awe~! There you are~! Hi, baby bro~!” The Fire ninja cooed, his smug smirk widening because he knew the smaller ninja well enough to know that he wanted to make a smart remark to Kai’s comment sooooo bad. 

But due to the current circumstances, the blonde knew it was in his best interest not to.

“K-KAHAHAI!” Lloyd whined through his laughs.

“Kai? Who’s Kai?” The spiky haired teen asked, turning his head to look around the room in search for this…'Kai' indivual. “IHIHAT’S— squeak! GEHET— squeak— oHO myhy gahASH! KAHAI!!!” Lloyd howled, laughing harder as the tickles in his underarms switched from scribbles to kneading in a matter of seconds. 

“I don’t know who this awesome, hot and brave Kai person is…but The Tickle Monster will make sure to tell you if he sees him.” The red cladded ninja mused. 

The green cladded teen squealed loudly, squirming as best he could in the position he was in as Kai just chuckled fondly at the action displaying below him, “Awe…is someone a squirmy wormy~? Does it tickle, Lloydie~?” 

“S-STAHAP!” 

“Stop~? Why should I stop, hm? Is it because you’re flustered~? Or is it because it tickles so much~? Or is it a combination of the two?” The brunette smugly teased, laughing softly as he saw a small blush appear on the other’s face. “JUhust geHET squeak YOHOUR hahands AHA— squeal OHOUT!” 

“But I caaaan’t!” Kai dramatically whined, “Your keeping them trapped with your big, stroooong muscles. Looks like those work-outs with Cole really came to use, huh?” Lloyd turned to his side, curling in on himself and letting out a soft snort as he continued to laugh to his hearts content. 

Kai cooed at him for probably the millionth time in an hour, trying not to tear up at the sight.

Why did his brother have to be so damn cute?!

“Why are you turning away from The Tickle Monster, Lloydie~?”

“STAHAP CAHAHALLING YOURSELF TH-THAHAT!”

“Stop calling myself what, Greenie? I’m just stating a fact.” Kai mused, poking his younger brother’s sides repetitively, “I like stating facts. For example…here’s a fact! You’re veryyyyy tickle tickle ticklish.” The brunette smiled as he gave the blonde a small kiss on the forehead (A platonic kiss. A PLATONIC KISS), ceasing his tickle attack for just a moment or two. 

The hazel eyed teen let out a small squeal at the kiss, crossing his arms as he looked to the side, “Cahan squeak yohou gehehet squeak ohoff squeal meehee now?”

The red themed ninja only shook his head, crossing his arms disapprovingly, “But Lloydie-loo! I’m not done quite yet! The Tickle Monster is hungry…!” He whined. 

The younger raised a brow in confusion, “Dihidn’t you juhust cohome frohom breakfast?”  

“But I’m not hungry for breakfast…I’m hungry for dessert~!” The taller teen grinned, gently grabbing the youngest ninja’s wrists and pinning them on top of his head. The blondie’s eyed widened as big as saucers, twisting and turning like a Fun-sized Twizzler. 

“Kahai— KaHAHAI!! NONONOHO— squeak DON’T YOU DAHARE IHI WIHILL EHEND YOHOU!!!” Lloyd screamed, immediatley trying to get off of the bed. 

As the younger kicked, protested and yelled, he soon came to realize he was trying to bargain with Kai. 

Once the Fire ninja had his mind set on something…it would literally take God himself to make him change his mind.

The amber eyed teen blew the most freaking ticklish raspberry Lloyd had ever felt right on his stomach, making the youngest scream in laughter, happy tears blurring his vision as he weakly squirmed in the hold.

“Ommmm nom nom nom~!” Kai teased as he switched from raspberries to nibbles.

“STAHAP! STAHAP squeak STAHAP STAHAP!!! YOHOU FREHEAKING— hic NAHAH!! NOHO hic NOHOISES!!” The Green ninja cackled loudly, his legs practically bouncing on the mattress due to how much he was squirming. The younger teen was absolutely losing his mind, just being able to lay on his bed and laugh his little heart out.

“But The Tickle Monster is hungry, little bro! And your tummy seems like an excellent feast, don’t you think?”

“NOHO— hic NAHAHA!! I CAHAN’T! I CAHAN’T squeal KAHAI squeal STAHAP IHIT!!” The blondie cried.

“You can’t what~?” The elder snorted in amusement. 

“I-IHIT squeal TIHIHICKLES!!!”

“If you can’t handle being tickled, you shouldn’t be so damn ticklish then.” The spiky haired ninja said simply, blowing another raspberry where Lloyd’s side met his lowest rib.

The smallest ninja threw his head back, his squeals, squeaks and laughs being so loud and high-pitched it could shatter actual glass. “AAAHAHA— squeak O-OKAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHAY! AHALRIGHT! IHI’M squeal UHUP! IHI’M hic UHUP!!!”

“So…does that mean you’re gonna come eat breakfast with me and the rest of our siblings~?” Kai giggled.

“Y-YAHA— snrk YEHES YEHEHES hic JUHUST squeal PLEHEASE!!!” The hazel eyed ninja squawked. The red cladded ninja stopped his tickling onslaught targeted towards his brother, lying down next to him as the blonde caught his breath.

The Green ninja wiped happy tears from his eyes due to being in complete hysterics not even a couple seconds ago. The smaller teen attempted glaring at his older brother, but found it so fucking hard to do due (haha do due…) to the fact Kai was smiling at him so…fondly.  

“Yohou’re ohohofficially thehe wohorst bihig brohother ever…” Lloyd grumbled as be crossed his arms playfully over his chest. 

“Psh— you know you love me, bud.” The brunette smiled, getting off of the bed as the blonde followed. “Alright. Come on, you little shit...let’s get some breakfast down your throat before the others make a search party for us.” Kai chuckled, ruffling Lloyd’s hair as the younger giggled, both of them walking out of the shared bedroom and into the hallway, towards the kitchen. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[mycroftrh]

✨ reminder to myself and others ✨

There are two categories of readers of your stuff:

1) People who have only read a couple of the things you’ve written, and therefore won’t notice your recurring motifs and words and phrases and gestures and etc

2) People who have read a whole lot of your things, which indicates they clearly like the motifs and language and etc that you use and want to see more of them

And for neither category do you need to worry about using your favorite tropes or descriptive phrases or whatever “too much”. The editor in your head is the only person who is both reading every single thing you write and being critical of every single thing you write

Slam that Signature Motif button in every single thing you write, you have nothing to lose but your chains ⛓️‍💥 🤛

[allastoredeer]

Re:bottom Lucifer ideas in general:

Lucifer IS a sad wet baby man and he could kick alastors shit in any day of the week. In this essay I will-

He is a sad wet baby man who can kick Alastor's ass, but we never see it. We only ever see the sad wet baby man part. Lucifer's still got fire in him. He's got pride and shame. He's quick to anger. He's got immense amounts of love for his daughter. He's got negative opinions of the very people he rules.

He's so much more than a sad wet baby man, yet that's all I ever see 😩

I think, at the end of the day, I just don't see the appeal of bottom!Lucifer. It just doesn't click right for me. It doesn't hit the right chemicals in the brain. I might just be how he's characterized 99% of the time, but it's just not for me.

[lopsicle]

How To Make Purple

TickleTober Day 6: Cuddles

Characters: Lee! Kyoko, Ler! Sayaka

Summary: Once Kyoko refuses to go sleep, Sayaka thinks an unconventional method will work well on her friend.

Warnings: None, just a tickle fic.

Kyoko had always looked out for herself, hunted for herself, survived for herself. Kyoko lived to survive, to keep going for day after day, no matter how hard it was sometimes. She was an amazing Magical Girl, one of the best, and in her mind, that meant she was above things like feeling alone. The empty hole in her heart was temporarily filled with the simple pleasure of food. Kyoko Sakura did not need anybody. That’s why if you told her that eventually, she’d be all cuddly and happy in her girlfriend’s arms, she would’ve thrown up.

Sayaka had corroded Kyoko’s tough exterior, the newbie did something to Kyoko that she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She challenged her. She wanted to be something with her, a friend at the time. Neither of them really wanted to be alone. It started with hunting wraiths together, a mutually beneficial alliance that soon blossomed, allies, friends and then lovers. Kyoko wasn’t alone anymore, and Sayaka had somebody that wanted her for who she was, both the good and bad parts. It was love like they had never experienced before.

Kyoko could never imagine herself being soft. Even now, the word made her shiver slightly, before she reminded herself that didn’t make her weak at all. Kyoko wouldn’t have survived this long if she was weak. There’s nothing wrong with needing a little bit of comfort every now and then, Mami’s voice ring in her ears. She found herself curled up in Sayaka’s lap, clinging onto her like how a koala would a tree. Sayaka’s hands wrapped around her waist securely, keeping the magical girls safe together. Kyoko closed her eyes and leaned her head against Sayaka’s chest, breathing gently to the sound of her beating heart. Sayaka’s fingers brushed against Kyoko’s arms, soaking up the warmth of her skin, reminding herself that they were both still human, that they were both still here. Living as a magical girl was horrifying but right here, right now, nothing else mattered. Not Wraiths, not Kyubey, everything was perfect and safe.

Eventually, Kyoko began giving into the comforting atmosphere and yawned into Sayaka’s shoulder, her eyelids groggy, feeling as if cob webs had been weaved between them that made it so much easier to just keep her eyes closed. Sayaka giggled to herself a little at that, her hands beginning to stroke Kyoko’s long ponytail.

“I think we should be getting to bed now.” Sayaka suggested, although this didn’t fly over well with Kyoko.

“Noooo..” Kyoko complained, her voice dripping with exhaustion, feeling her grip tighten onto the back of Sayaka’s shirt. She still wasn’t used to having other people tell her what to do, even if she knew it was for the better and that Sayaka was just trying to help her. More importantly though, she couldn’t be with Sayaka if she was asleep, she wouldn’t be able to feel her body against hers, she couldn’t listen to the rhythm of her heart, or the sounds of her breathing in and out. Kyoko couldn’t let this moment end.

“You know you’ll have to eventually,” Sayaka commented, both of them far too stubborn to consider backing down. Sayaka nudged Kyoko slightly and ,when she just snuggled her body against hers more, she slipped one hand underneath the girl’s knees and scooped her up, getting up off the couch of her apartment.

“Sayaka, I wanna stay here, I’m not even tired..” Kyoko mumbled into her girlfriend’s collar, though she wasn’t fooling anyone, it was blatantly obvious that the moment her head touched her pillow it would be lights out.

“Uh huh, sure you aren’t,” Sayaka commented, before grinning to herself as an idea popped into her mind, “well, how about I tire you a little then?”

Kyoko’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Hm? What’s that supposed to meeaAA-?!” Kyoko’s drained voice shifter into a loud squeal at the feeling of Sayaka’s hands squeezing the side of her thigh, her body spasmed about in her girlfriend’s grip, clinging onto her desperately.

“What was that, darling? I couldn’t quite here you,” Sayaka commented smugly, waiting for Kyoko to try and retort back to jab her nails into her thighs and wiggle them about against her skin.

“St-stohohp that, it’s ahahahannoying!” Kyoko tried to kick at Sayaka or bat away her hands but it was difficult to do anything when she was being cradled like this, especially when she didn’t really want to be let go that much.

“Aww, is it? Can the big strong witch hunter not handle a little tickling?” Sayaka cooed in her teasing, a little mocking, a little adoringly. How could she not finding her sleepy girlfriend crumbling in her arms from getting tickled absolutely adorable? Kyoko, on the other hand, went nearly as red as her hair, groaning loudly.

“Cahahahn you just quit it?! I wahahahanna cuddle!” Kyoko begged lightly, whatever semblance of the spiky, loner persona she had crumbled away at this point.

“So do I, silly, your the one who keeps squirming away! I just want to spend some sweet, quality time with my lovely girlfriend and you keep trying to leave me!” Sayaka playfully teased her, before sitting back down on the couch with Kyoko on her lap to make it easier to tickle her. Keeping her in a light hold, Sayaka’s fingers began plucking and pressing at Kyoko’s ribs, playing her like a piano. Kyoko’s upper ribs got her squealing and shrieking, while her lower ribs made her cackle and laugh breathlessly, and those sweet little spots between her ribs practically made her scream. She wiggled all about on Sayaka’s lap, but never enough to actually break her comforting hold.

“‘C-cahahause yohohour ti-tihiHIHIHCKLING MEHEHEHEHE!!” Kyoko screeched, clinging onto Sayaka desperately for comfort, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to distract herself from the buzzing, swarming sensations by focusing on the peaceful, pleasant act of cuddling her girlfriend. Of course, that didn’t work, but neither of them were complaining about the arrangement.

“It’s not my fault your this fun to tickle! Just look at you, all smiley and squirmy, you look adorable like this!” Sayaka doted, she really couldn’t get enough of seeing Kyoko like this, happily giggling and screeching, cuddling against her like a kitten.

“SAHAHAHAYAKA!!” Kyoko screeched in a tone that a mother’s child would if she was embarrassing them, flapping about wildly in Sayaka’s lap. Having Sayaka fawn over her was unreasonable flustering for the poor girl, it was so caring and sweet and adoring that she couldn’t help but melt at the compliments, any come backs she might have had moulding into little stutters that got lost in her laughter.

“Think you wanna go to bed now?” Sayaka asked dutifully, slowing down her attack on Kyoko’s ribs just enough so that she wasn’t overwhelmed. Kyoko shook her head appreciatively against Sayaka’s body, clearly Sayaka wasn’t tiring her out enough…or maybe she just wasn’t playing Kyoko right. Cautiously, her fingertips traced down to Kyoko’s stomach, before beginning to gently circle and rub around her tummy, the sensations being just sensitive enough to leave her giggling.

“You know, we can just stay like this and sleep, we’re not gonna have to separate just to go to bed!” Sayaka commented, her voice quietened down, more soft and alluring. Kyoko made a mumble of agreement, utterly melting into the attention and squeezing her eyes in sleepy bliss. The two’s bodies stayed in a comfortable entanglement on the couch.

“Thanks..you know..for all of that..” Kyoko vocalised in a voice tinier than she thought possible, though all of this once seemed impossible. She was here, with her girlfriend, letting her take care of her. And they were both safe.

Kyoko soon drifted into a gentle sleep, though Sayaka stayed awake for as long as she could, snuggling up to her girlfriend and listening to her heartbeat before eventually clocking out peacefully.

[invinciblerodent]

Silk and Silverite, the complete series (so far), by Lady Stéphanie Toutlemonde-Baliverne of Val Royeaux

in-fiction Dragon Age fiction, because why not

Silk and Silverite

Featuring no subtitle, the book was meant to be a one-off, but upon the wildly positive reception (five scarves fluttered in shock out of five!), the work was expanded into a series.

This first volume, fittingly to the title, is a fairly basic story about a whirlwind romance between a wealthy surface dwarf merchant-woman with a price on her life, and a beautiful bard (known only as "Lady Cinquefoil") that mostly follows the conventions of Orlesian bardic romances, and shocks mainly with just how explicit it is for its genre.

It's rumored to have been inspired by the author's own scandalous affair, however this is mostly due to the staggering amount of very specific details pictured, as there is next to nothing known about the secretive authoress.

Vol.02.: Lustrous Cotton

Following one of the secondary protagonists of the original Silk and Silverite, Lustrous Cotton is about a meek, scholarly mage in 9:41, now a rebel against his will, trying to make his way across the Fereldan countryside with a hired bodyguard: a tortured and complex woman, a deserter of the Templar order, who is trying to eke out a living by taking people across the wartorn Hinterlands for coin. The two, of course, fall into mad love roughly 80 pages in, and then proceed to make (both figuratively and literally explosive) love in tents and inns all over the country, before fleeing both the war and their Templar pursuers towards the Tevinter Imperium.

While controversial in its choice of protagonists, the book is commended often on its creative yet heavily eroticized use of magic, and its accuracy in depicting the difficulties of stripping off armor while in the ~throes of passion~.

Vol.03.: Vyrantium Samite

As a hard pivot from the previous two books' southern settings, the third installment of the series continues in Tevinter, and takes the reader to a fictional version of the underbelly of the upper echelons of Imperial society, featuring the entanglement of a handsome magister and an equally handsome Orlesian ex-chevalier in the heart of Minrathous. It's easily the most inaccurate to its setting of all the books, and it sparked quite a bit of controversy both with its generous blasphemies, and by coming out in the same year as Lord Gallanter Pismire's "The Magister’s Temptation", and Lord Gustave Thibault Beaumarchais’ "Champions of the Lust - To Break an Imperial Stallion", which both feature some eerily similar characters.

This, of course, fizzled out quickly, as it soon became obvious that these books were not all copies of each other, but were merely inspired by the exact same people (with Pismire and Beumarchais drawing on the Inquisitor's figure far less subtly), and Vyrantium Samite at least never used expressions like "quivering flesh-cavern", or "pulsing man-meat". (Editions after the first one feature a mysterious endorsement on the back cover signed only as "R.": "To draw from life with such boldness is a thing both wonderful, and mildly terrifying.")

Vol.04: Fade-touched Velvet

Any semblance of and overarching plot or an interconnection that the previous installments would have introduced is chucked straight out the window, as this installment is written from the perspective of Juliette, a cheeky apprentice in the newly formed College of Enchanters, and recounts her taboo romance with an enchanting desire demon seeking to possess her. (Which explains why exactly the titular "velvet" is "fade-touched".)

The demon's shapeshifting abilities are, of course, explored in extreme depth, touching on yet more Andrastian themes of blasphemy and desire that leave the average reader feeling both flustered and vaguely guilty, and the book ends with a series-atypical cliffhanger that had readers writing letter after disgruntled letter to the Randy Dowager in such numbers, that Her Ladyship had to put out a notice that she will simply stop reviewing the series if people don't stop bugging her about it. (Five scarves fluttered in shock out of five, of course.)

Vol.05.: Rough Hide

The author seems to dial the oddities back in with this installment, as it features, once more, a fairly common Orlesian plot structure and a conventional depiction of a fictional Grey Warden, a gruff and determined dwarf woman with a heart of gold, and her partner, a plucky, yet sweet recruit- a thief both petty and pretty, who chose to join the Order as an alternative to either a hanging, or a Chantry cloister.

This one, though still explicit, is cited as by far the most loving, most romantic book in the series, as the "burn" seems slowest in this one, and the characters' palpable bond tugs at the heartstrings. The two often meditate on mortality, love, and loss- mostly after bouts in the bedroll that definitely fit the title.

The dedication of this book raises eyebrows, as it is merely "Thinking Always of You".

Vol.06: TBA

The newest installment was set to be released 9:53 Dragon, but, well... it wasn't, for obvious reasons.

Rumor has it, the title was to be Paragon's Luster, and it intended to delve quite deep into Orzammar's caste politics and royalty (again, both figuratively and literally), but it'll understandably take a few years to actually be released, if it ever will be.

[rainysflowers]

I would like to take a moment and shout out to the patron saint episode of Lupin the Third for whumpy Goemon fans, Episode 112 of Part 2, Danger, Goemon! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Classic episode to reference or expand upon in whump fics of the LT3 variety, and DAMN does my boy look good strapped up and beat down. Not to mention the hug at the end when Lupin gets there and saves his ass GHIPISHGPIOGAPIGIS i think i died seeing that. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Oh episode 112 of part 2, may your torturing of Goemon never become forgotten 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Maybe i should GIF set it... for all the non Lupin whump fans to see... hmmmm

[in-tua-deep]

i have a star wars fic idea floating around my brain that is just a time travel fic centering around bodhi rook where part of the explanation for a suddenly-force-sensitive-bodhi is "the monster tore parts of me out and maybe that made more space for the force to fill in the gaps"

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝙰 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚝 ~

̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾𝙼 𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝙰 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝚅𝙴𝚈𝙰𝚁𝙳 𝚁𝙽 𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝙸 𝙳𝙾𝙽’𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙴!!! 𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙵𝙻𝚄𝙵𝙵𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝙵𝙵 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙰𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙳𝙷𝙳𝙷!!!˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟷,𝟹𝟺𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎 ⚾️💛

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚜 🎃❤️

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐; 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚂𝙴 𝚃𝚆𝙾 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙺𝙸𝙳𝚂; 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂. 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙴𝙸𝚁𝙳 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙺𝚂!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 😚💞

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚🕺🏾𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈🫶🏾𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈🕺🏾𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝙾𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈🫶🏾˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

It was a nice, cool and collected October afternoon.

The air smelled like October…the tree’s looked like October…

…And everything just felt…October-ish in a way; if that makes any sense…

It was the end of the school day; and just like any intelligent and studious student…you would assume doing your homework as soon as you got home would be the best bet, right?

Well…not for Linus Van Pelt and Charlie Brown. 

The two best friends have been playing video games for the past…two hours; give or take? 

And their homework would most likely not be finished until…probably…midnight…

…But the two had priorities. Very good ones in fact!

And one of the main priorities they had as of right now was finishing their video game. 

(A wonderful priority if you ask me).

And to make it even better, Charlie was surprisingly…winning! 

Which…was something in his life that didn’t happen…much, if, not at all. 

Linus looked at the small TV screen in slight disbelief as his best friend managed to score yet another point in Mario Kart.

The brunette chuckled at the action, a mix of surprise and amusement in his voice, “Wow…I didn't know you were such a video game expert, Char. You’re destroying me, here.”

Charlie giggled, “I guess I am, aren’t I?”

The younger boy shook his head, feigning an offended tone, “You 'guess', huh?” The red cladded preteen snickered as he put the controller to the side, “Don’t let it get to your head. You're supposed to be letting me win, after all."

“You wouldn’t win even if I let you.” The other chuckled. 

“Wha— exCUSE me?!” Linus gasped dramatically. 

“You’re excused...” Charlie said cheekily as the TV roared with champion music, displaying the results of the leader board as the yellow cladded preteen was shown as the winner. 

“…Looks like I win.” The older grinned.

“That’s not faaaaair!!!” The younger one whined, pointing his finger accusingly at his best friend, “You cheated!”

Charlie Brown let out a small huff of laughter, raising an amused brow as he crossed his arms, “Hohow dihid I cheat? Yohou watched me plahay!” 

The red cladded preteen rolled his eyes, looking away from his friend as he sulked, “Whatever...”

Charlie rested his head on his friend’s shoulder whilst teasingly poking his cheek, “It’s okay to lose, Li. We all have to at some point.”

“You lose all the time in…like…w-well, everything!” The shorter teen retorted.

“But I’m not losing right now, am I?” The honey brown eyed preteen grinned smugly, going out to poke the other’s cheek one more time but was stopped as Linus grabbed his wrists, pinning his arms above his head with one hand as he sat on his friend’s thighs.

Charlie’s eyes widened, kicking his legs underneath Linus as he tried to get out of the hold.

…Good…grief.

The one in red used his free hand to tickle the other’s side, dancing his fingers diligently and effortlessly which caused Charlie to absolutely shriek, shaking his head as he stomped his feet on the carpeted floor. 

Linus chuckled, enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment and the adorable sound of his friend’s shriek as he tickled his sides.

The brown eyed preteen was barely even tickling him!

…In fact, Linus was barely getting started.

The younger smiled slyly, “Huh...who would’ve known? The great video game champion is ticklish…”

“N-Nohohohoh!!” The other kid giggled helplessly. 

“'No?' You seem pretty ticklish to me, Char.“ The brunette haired preteen mused. 

“I-Ihihi’m nahahat!” The older cried. 

Linus rolled his eyes fondly as he doubled down on the tickling, his grin stretching wider. He released his friend’s wrists and he pinched his hips, chuckling at the giggly denial the other was sputtering through his laughs.

I mean, come on now. Linus knew Charlie Brown since…kindergarten. 

…The two were only in fifth grade…but still! His point still boldly stands!!!

“Oho, you're not, huh? Then how come you're giggling and squirming around so much?“

“I-Ihihi’m nahahat!” The honey brown eyed kid desperately denied which Linus to only laughed out loud in result, his fingers still dancing over his best friend’s sides. 

He looked at the taller boy with mock seriousness, still smiling widely as the other wriggled and writhed. 

“Oho really? Because your giggling is telling me a veeeeery different story~!” The red cladded preteen smiled smugly as he started to knead the other’s hips, “Just say you’re ticklish…'cuz I know you know you are…no matter how much you deny it. 

Charlie Brown just snorted, hugging his middles and kicking his legs slightly as Linus continued with his tickling onslaught, making sure to leave the other boy in utter stitches.

“Cohome on, Char! Admit it! Just say, your ticklish and this can aaaaaall be over~! You know you want to~!” The hazel eyed teen said as he tickled his best friend’s stomach swiftly.

And in result, the yellow cladded preteen genuinely screamed in a result to the new sensation on his tummy, grabbing the other’s wrists but not quite pushing them away. 

Linus just grinned, enjoying the silliness of the situation, “Pff— how about now, Char~? Are you still 'not ticklish~?'” He teased as he continued to tickle the taller oh-so casually, “Y'know…the more you deny it, the more I'm tempted to keep going~!” 

The honey brown eyed preteen’s whole face turned to a bright red as he tugged on his best friend’s hands, “NAHAHAHAH— snrk LIHINUHUS!!”

The younger boy found his best friend’s giggling both adorable yet hilarious at the same time; continuing to tickle the other on his stomach and not showing the slightest sign of stopping anytime soon.

“D'aww~! Your little snorts nehever get old…” The younger smiled fondly, “Come on, Char, just say it! I won't stop until you do~!”

“LIHI— snrk!! PLEHEASE NAHAHOH!!” Charlie Brown cackled.

“But all you have to do is admit it, Char-Char~! Just say you’re soooo ticklish and the tickling will stop!” The hazel eyed preteen casually said.

The slightly taller kid snorted, flapping his hands on his friend’s arms. Linus glanced at his best friend's happy stims and smiled, pausing his tickling torment for juuuuust a moment.

“Your happy stimming is so. freaking. cute!” The younger gushed, “But~! We're not done here; not until you say those two magic words..." He said as he resumed the tummy tickling with a smirk.

Charlie snorted, “LIHI LIHIHI!! PLEHEHEASE!!!”

“Awe…is that a 'please' I hear? Sounds like someone's starting to give in…”

“I’M TICKLISH!! IHIHIHI’M TIHICKLIHISH!!!” The yellow cladded preteen cackled despretley 

“Those aren’t the magic words, Charlie Brooown~!” Linus grinned evilly, leaning down and blowing a raspberry on his best friend’s stomach. 

The older let out an embarrisngly loud squeal at the sensation on his said stomach, covering his face with his arms as he laughed hysterically. 

“Oho gosh…I forgot how sensitive your tummy is...” Linus giggled in between breaths.

“IHIHITS SNRK NAHAHAT!!” The other denied.

“It’s not? Are you sure? 'Cuz this seems like a goldmine for your giggles, Charlie..” The younger said matter-of-factly as he lightly scribbled his nails around the elder’s bellybutton as he raspberried his sides. 

The elder in question howled, arching his back and cackling madly, “GAHAHASH NOHOH! HIC! WHYHYHY THAHAHAT?!”

“Because you loooove it~!”

“PLEHEASE!! LIHIHI NOHOHAH— SNRK! STAHAHAP!!!”

“But this cute little giggle spot is so yummy, Char! I just need to...” And with that, Linus blew the most freaking ticklish raspberry Charlie Brown’s ever felt directly on his bellybutton. 

Happy tears ran down the older’s face, lying limp on the carpet as he laughed like The Joker, “LINUS IHI’M SOSOHO TICKLISH!!! IHI’M TICKLISH JUHUHUST PLEEHEHEASE!!!”

The red cladded preteen stopped immediatley, getting off and lying down next his best friend as his best friend in question tried to catch his breath. 

“Ihihi’m gohohonna gehehet yohou back…”

“I’m sure you will, Char.” Linus snickered, sitting back against the couch as he grabbed his and Charlie’s playstations and waving them around teasingly, “Best out of three?”

“Oho you’re ohon.” The older grinned, snatching back the gaming device as they placed video games throughout the night.

…Perhaps that homework could wait until tomorrow…

[celestialseawitch-ff]

[dadvil]

Yall ever just want to read a specific type of fic? Like the ship doesn’t matter, the fandom doesn’t matter, you don’t even care about canon (sometimes you don’t even know anything about canon). You just want something that ticks all the boxes.

[g0rdonpeeman]

I wish my brain worked normally and I could love more than one thing bc my main (only) fandom that you can probably figure out from my username lmao has like. no omo and I don’t really want to make it all myself lol

[blkkizzat]

𝟔𝟗—𝐖𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂~!

....𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝟔𝟗!

♋ pairings: (separate) 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧ 𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐮!𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧ 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♋ cw: 69 position so lots of fellatio and cunnalingus obvi! ✧ pet names ✧ face fucking ✧ spanking ✧ biting ✧ dirty talk ✧ teasing ✧ pussy drunk ✧ squirting ✧ overstimulation✧ sex swing ✧ light mention of drugs ✧ light dubcon ✧ daddy kink ✧ variety of readers types: bimbo, shy, mischievous, etc. ♋ an: phfft—not me touching grass for once and missing posting this on the last day of cancer season! my bday was actually July 21st! i wanted to post then but i got too busy and i've been wanting to write this since last year! This is a gift fic for my cancer girlies but i hope you all enjoy all the same~! (sorry leo girlies, we extending cancer season by oa few days LOL!)

♋ Toji—makes you do it his way:

“Toji have you lost your goddamn mind! Put me down—now!”

Upside down, suspended mid-air, you are aghast at how your simple request to try out a new sex position—69—has gotten you into this position. 

Vertical—instead of horizontal, ass naked in the middle of the living room.

“Nuh-uh, ma. Ya said we gotta spice it up—try sumtin’ new…”

You squeak as Toji adjusts his grip on you. 

With a devilish smirk Toji loosens his grip, allowing you to slide down for a mere fraction of a second before jostling your body upwards again. His hold is considerably tighter this time as Toji’s arms encircle lower waist, pushing your pussy right inline his face as his cock slaps you upside the head.

“...well that wasn’t new to me. This? This is.”

Toji’s words tickle the folds of your cunt, already glistening with moisture and on full display for him. Any attempts to squirm free are futile. Toji’s muscular arms are like bulky steel bands—you aren’t going anywhere no matter how hard you fail against him.

Fuck! Did this have to be in the living room too!? Megumi should be home from school soon!

“W-Well, um, uh…what if Megumi comes back?!”

Initially ignoring your concerns, Toji audibly inhales. 

Your scent hits him like a drug, mouth watering as if the only thing that mattered was the feast between your thighs—not the fact that his own son could walk through the door at any moment.

“Heh, told ‘em not too. Even sent ‘em some money take his friends to some fuckin’ pussy earthworm movie—he ain’t gonna be ‘ere any time soon mama.”

Toji willingly sending money? 

Paying for multiple people at that?? 

Oh shit, this was serious.

You gulped, shuddering from his breath fanning into your core. 

You’re fucked. 

Yet your fate was easier than you expected to accept, with blood now rushing to both your head and your cunt—the effect is dizzying to say the least. Reminding you just how horny you were before Toji literally turned your world upside down. 

“P-Please Toji…daddy?”

The whine you let out is so pitiful, even you aren’t sure if you’re begging to be let down or pleading for Toji to stop playing with his food and finally devour you—but either way, you already know how he’s going to respond.

“That’s right mamas, listen ta that pretty lil’ cunt of y’ers. Heh, just look how she's winkin’ at me—slutty girl knows exactly what she wants.” 

Toji whistles low at the sight, then spits directly into your hole—like his filthy actions are determined to outmatch his even dirtier mouth. This time, the whimper you let out isn’t confused or conflicted—it’s raw with need.

Unable to hold back any longer, Toji parts your pussy lips with the flat of his probing tongue. 

When he reaches your center, your hole flutters as he traces the rim with his tongue. He dips in just enough to tease, offering soft kitten-like licks as if he’s savoring your creamy taste—and even without seeing his face, you can practically feel the smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“Ya can’t expect me t’do all the work now, eh? Let’s reciprocate a little, ma.”

You’d roll your eyes if gravity didn’t already have them at the top of your head, but fair was fair you suppose—even if it was completely unfair how he got you into this position in the first place.

You’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to suck his dick when your face is more aligned with his balls. That doesn’t stop you though as you start at his swollen sack, kissing your way up the length of his cock as best you can, leaving a wet trail that has Toji’s abs trembling.

But your small victory is short-lived, not even getting the chance to gloat—he curses low into your cunt about needing to feel your whole mouth, then hoists you up a little higher without warning.

“Open that throat f’er Daddy, yeah?”

Jaw stretching wide, you can do little but submit in the moment. But it isn’t until the weight of him—thick, unrelenting—slams past your tonsils with dizzying force that you realize why Toji insisted on doing it this way.

Gravity is bullying his cock up your throat deeper than ever, forcing you to adapt fast. 

Your eyes fly open, and you quickly learn to breathe through your nose as he keeps pace, jamming his rough tongue deep inside your pussy with perfect synchronicity.

His girth is suffocating, your airway choked off just enough to blur the line between pleasure and panic. 

Add the ruthless precision of his tongue and the disorienting rush of being upside down, and black edges bloom at the corners of your vision. 

You’re overwhelmed—sensations crashing over you all at once. 

Gripping his thighs for dear life, your nails rake red trails down his skin, they’re the only anchor keeping you from slipping under completely as a small orgasm crashes through your body.

“Fuckin’ perfect.”

Toji purrs into your slit as your entire body trembles, your scorching, soaked throat muscles pulsing tighter around his cock—every wave of your climax rippling straight through him like an aftershock.

Shit’s insane—he’s gonna bust fast. 

Fuck.

Toji’s no minute man but there’s no way he can hold out like this—not with your filthy little throat choking him from above while your pussy sobs her creamy tears all over his face, sweet and slick—fucking addictive.

“C’mon mamas gimme a big one, paint my face with it.”

Even if you hear Toji, his voice crazed with lust—which you couldn’t btw—your mind too clouded and your ears ringing with the sound of your own gurgles, you didn’t need to. 

Your body’s already teetering on the brink—the pleasure white-hot, blinding, as your eyes rolled so far back they may as well be lost in your skull. You can’t do anything but hang limp, letting Toji use you like the shameless little onnahole you’ve clearly proven yourself to be. 

Overstimulated beyond anything you thought humanly possible, everything shatters the moment Toji—drunk on your pussy, feral in his haze—starts sucking and nipping at your clit.

If your throat weren’t already wrecked, you might’ve screamed. 

But your body does it for you—legs jerking, greedy hole milking all over Toji’s face, every muscle seizing as you fall apart in his hold.

This gives Toji—who’s been hanging on by a threadbare shred of willpower—the green light to finally release everything.

And he does.

Toji unloads a geyser of hot release down your throat with a groan that borders on depraved, only realizing mid-spurt just how much he’s giving you—and with you upside down, he has to yank you off before you really choke.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally rights you, turning you upright and lowering your boneless body onto the couch while you cough through the aftermath, too weak to even really assess the damage.

“There ya go, ma. See, I knew my slutty lil’ throat goat could handle it.”

Eyes snapping to meet his own they radiate death—but the moment you try to speak, your voice breaks into a raw, useless croak, your ruined vocal cords on fire.

“Er, yeah I’ll, uh, go make ya some tea mama.”

Giving Toji another exasperated expression as if to sass him with a ‘yeah, you fuckin’ go do that buddy’—you flop face first into the fluffy couch cushions beneath you. Too tired to try to fight him now that you’ve lost your voice.

Toji—buzzing, hard again, and fully ready for round two—knows better than to say it out loud. 

But the moment your throat recovers?

Yeah, you’re doing this shit again.

Maybe with a little weed next time… get ya to stop pretending like ya don’t love it.

♋ Nanami Kento—uses it as a teaching moment:

“C’mon Bunny, use your words, beautiful.”

You whine petulantly in response, nerves frayed while a flush of heat sweeps over you. 

Nanami’s plush bedding rucks beneath your form as you lay on your side, the both of you on opposite ends in the 69 position you had asked to try.

Well, barely. You were too shy to even say the words “sixty-nine.” 

You’d fumbled like an idiot. 

Nanami had to pry it out of you, his voice patient, yet amused, while you batted your lashes low, avoiding eye contact as you finally spat out the lewd syllables. 

This was your first time taking any kind of initiative in the bedroom.

Nanami is so in tune with your body that you’d never need to ask for anything outright, spoiled by the way he always just knew.

That’s exactly why this is so mortifying now.

Nanami, with age and infinite experience, introduced you to a world of pleasure that felt like stepping through a secret door only he had the key to—and always maddeningly composed, while doing so. 

He’s guided you through all your firsts. Your first kiss, touch, orgasm, all of it. 

Nanami was gentle when you needed it and ruthless when he knew you could take it. 

Now here you are, half-naked, aching with a need he is fully aware of—and he refuses to touch you.

“You’re the one who asked for this...” 

Nanami coos, voice deep and seductive. 

“...so show me how bad you want it. Tell me what this slutty lil’ pussy needs, Bunny.”

Nanami knew from the very first orgasm he beckoned out from between your sinful, velvety thighs how big a pleasure slut you are. You hid it well, under layers of shy inexperience and a demure countenance. Yet once Nanami had gotten you under him, you’d been so responsive, so easily guided into debauched euphoria as if your entire body served as a sex organ—exposing your hidden nature. 

A shy slut wouldn’t do though and as such Nanami blames himself for overindulging you—now it’s up to him to correct that behavior.

Angling your hips up towards him, your body is saying what your mouth refuses to. Your clit aching as you want nothing more than to feel his lips latch onto your overheated sex. 

Yet Nanami ignores it, waiting with quiet expectation.

Even when you tried to take the initiative—pressing your plush lips to his swollen tip, kissing it gently before flicking your tongue over the bead of pre gathered there—Nanami grunts softly in pleasure, effect but still holding firm.

With that low, deliberate voice of his, he reminds you again: your fluttering little pussy, winking up at him so sweetly, would get nothing—not a single touch—not unless you walked him through every step.

Explicitly.

As a last ditch effort you try reasoning with him, Nanami if anything is a reasonable man—insisting there was no way you’d be able to tell him what you wanted once his cock was in your mouth.

Alas, that just causes him to chuckle, low and amused, the hardy breaths from his laughter torturously tickling your exposed slit, quivering deliciously under his critical gaze.

Unfazed as he’s already prepared for this, Nanami simply instructs you to wet his cock a bit, stroking him instead. While 69’ing does call for reciprocal pleasure but that doesn't mean you both have to use your mouths. 

Nanami would use his mouth on you—but you’d have to talk him through every titillating step while he did.

Paling in realization, you slowly come to terms with your defeat, teeth sinking into your lower lip. 

You want to run and hide but he’s right there and your slick has been smearing the inside of your thighs for a while now. and flushed and laid out beside you like temptation incarnate.Not to mention your head was already spinning from the thick scent of his musk—sharp, heady, laced with the faint salt of pre leaking from his cock where it rests, hard and heavy, against his thigh.

If he won’t move without words, then you have no choice.

You gulp, gathering your lust fueled courage.

“I-I w-w-want…” 

You trail off, voice weak and shaky. Nanami just hums as he lowers himself closer, awaiting your command.

“Say it, Bunny.”

Your heart races.

“IWantYourTongue!!”

Your words bleed together as they spill out of you. 

Nanami grins deviously, you’d have to be more descriptive than that.

“What was that, my love? My Tongue? Exactly what do you need my tongue to do?”

Your cheeks blaze, arousal spiking to insufferable levels as it begins to dissolve your apprehensions away.

“F-Flick my clit.” 

The words aren’t above a whisper but they are clearly spoken instructions nonetheless.

Good girl.

And so Nanami gives you what you ask for. No more, no less. 

With one sharp flick of his tongue that makes your whole body spasm as you cry out, finally feeling a tiny bit of what you’ve been craving this entire time.

“Like that, dear?”

You nod profusely. 

Nanami pauses, arching a brow at your non-verbal command causing you to quickly find your words again.

“S-Sorry! Sorry! Y-Yes! Um…again please. K-Keep going, l-lick me m-more…”

Obliging you fully his tongue dancing over your swollen bud in agonizing circles. 

“AH! S-S’GUD!”

A moan slips out as your eyes roll back, but a flicker of guilt cuts through the haze when you catch sight of Nanami’s cock—hard, leaking, and utterly neglected. It had taken all your will power just to give him these salacious instructions. You’d nearly forgotten that he wasn’t just supposed to eat you out, you were to return the favor.

Lowering your plump lips closer, you part them as the drool that’s been pooling on your tongue flows out. 

Your syrupy saliva coats his sizable length as your hands begin pumping in earnest.

Nanami’s low, appreciative hiss sends a ripple of heat straight to your pussy as he coaxes you to say more.

“What else, babydoll?”

You swallow hard, the words snagging in your throat—but not from embarrassment. The sensations of Nanami’s dexterous tongue are already fogging up your brain, making it hard to think, let alone speak. 

“Uhh, um, now—Hah, now…press your tongue flat, yes...ah! Uh and, uh—suck. S-Suck on it.”

“On what, Bunny?”

You grit your teeth, your frustration causing you to become snappy. 

“My clit, Ken! My clit! God…s-suction it—Yes, yes! OH—right there!”

A surge of power coils through your belly, electric as it runs throughout your veins—fueled by the way Nanami so willingly obeys every filthy command between your thighs—so long as you’re naughty enough to ask for it.

Nanami lets you ride the wave, grinding against his lips as you direct his movements through broken gasps, pleasure overtaking your mind. 

Your inner slut creeps outward, fully exposing herself with every lascivious moan, growing even bolder.

“Now…” 

Panting, you’re barely keeping it together but you can’t stop now, you need him to make you cum.

“...tongue me down. S-slowly, from the top… yes, right through—b-between everything. Keep going lower.”

Nanami follows the path you outline like a dutiful worshipper, slow slurps gliding down your folds until his tongue rims your gaping entrance.

“I-Inside...” 

You swallow down more air, chest heaving. You knew one word would not be enough to move him and you scramble to find your words—pure desperation the cause of your stuttering now.

“...p-p-put your t-tongue inside me, K-Ken.”

Hearing you fall apart has Nanami growling low. His eager mouth, fucking into your seeping heat with obscene precision, each stroke making your thighs quiver. His hands clamp down on your ass, guiding your hips to grind helplessly against his mouth, like he’s determined to devour every last bit of you.

It’s all too much, and not enough at once—you still weren’t done, you still had to guide him to finish you.

All the while you’d continued to stroke him, but it’s weak, inconsistent, your wrist losing rhythm every time he licks just right inside you.

“AH, uh, mmm… y-you’re fingers next—shitshitshit..my clit.”

Nanami doesn’t waste time correcting you, doing what he knew you couldn’t fully ask him to make you cum—he’s so proud of you. So painfully hard from your newfound assertiveness that it’s the only thing keeping him from going rogue and really ruining you. 

“HAH…m’gonna cum, Ken—oh m’fuck—m’so close—!”

Your body spasms—legs trembling, back arching—the pressure building sharp and fast from his attentions on your bud.

“Then let go, my slutty little dove.” 

The pads of his thick fingers press into your bud, strumming and plucking at your flesh, matching the rhythm of his tongue inside you.

“Show me how good it feels to take control of your desires.”

Your orgasm tears through you like lightning—loud, raw, and messy—drenching Nanami’s chin as your legs seize and collapse around his head. The overstimulation skirts the edge of pain, only making the release hit harder.

Your fingers slip from his cock as you go slack against the bed. 

Nanami pulls away from your cunt with a final, slow slurp. 

His face is slick with your release, jaw taut, cock still throbbing and untouched between his legs.

You did it—and you enjoyed it. 

Proud of yourself, your head swims and you’re not sure how long you lie there, soaked and unmoving, body ringing from aftershocks. 

So you don't feel the shift in the air as Nanami prowls to hover over you.

You blink once and you’re already folded in half—legs slung over his shoulders.

The new position makes your pussy clench again, already fluttering in want of his cock.

And you get it alright.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, my love.”

Yet Nanami's praises are gravely, tight with a fraying restraint that is unlike him and there is something unhinged—a feral twinkle in his eyes. 

Your breath quickens finally feeling the danger surrounding you, you unleashed a completely different side of him, one he’s been trying to spare you from all this time.

“Now—”

Nanami lowers his face, words rough against your ear as he thrusts forward—just an inch, not nearly enough to satisfy. 

However, the sensation of your walls expanding around him is more than enough to make you cry out, moaning as he bullies his fat cockhead through your tight ring of muscle.

—tell me exactly how my cock should tear through your pretty lil guts.”

♋ Otaku!Gojo—takes to the next level (series m.list). 

“Toru… how the hell is this even supposed to work?!”

Deadpan, you stare at Gojo as he straps himself into the elaborate contraption. 

This was your fault. Truly. 

You knew better than to enable Gojo’s ecchi coded ways. 

So you really should have just kept your mouth shut instead of suggesting 69’ing in the new designer lingerie set he bought you.

What were you even thinking!?

Of course, the moment the words leave your mouth, Gojo drops to his knees like you just proposed marriage—and immediately starts begging for another trip to his parents’ sex dungeon to do it.

You agreed, albeit reluctantly, assuming he just wanted to use the rotating bed with the ceiling mirrors. 

Honestly, as nervous as that place made you, having sex somewhere that didn’t have Digimon or anime adorned sheets and decor was always a nice treat. Plus you knew his parents didn’t skimp on any expenses when it came to their perversions (like parents, like son) and it felt way classier than fucking in Gojo’s hentai museum. 

However, you should have known it wouldn’t be that simple. Leave it to Gojo to take things ten steps further—with a goddamn sex swing.

“Yep, just climb in on top of me, Bunny bae!” 

Gojo had clearly lost all his damn marbles if he thought you were about to get into that depraved shit with him—you aren’t trying to break your ass over his kink fantasies! 

Seeing your wariness, Gojo quips that you have absolutely nothing to worry about—it’s safe enough to stabilize up to four people! 

Gawking at him, you didn’t even want to know how four people were supposed to get into the swing, let alone use it. 

Huffing you crossed your arms, turning your nose up at him. 

“Awe, don’t be like that Bun-Bun! It will be fun—Hey, uh, just imagine I’m Spider-Man and we’re getting freaky-deaky in my giant web!”

Gojo wiggles his eyebrows like that’s actually supposed to be a tempting offer, and you visibly recoil. Instinctively taking cautious steps back as your self-preservation finally kicks in.

“Wait, wait, ok! Ok—no Spider-Man...”

You close your eyes briefly in relief.

“—how about Tarzan?” 

“TORU!!!”

Your eyes go wide, and you’re about two hot seconds from turning on your heel and walking the hell out when Gojo calls after you again—this time, his voice is softer, sadder and painfully pathetic.

Then like clockwork comes the infamous pout—those big, stupidly gorgeous eyes locking onto yours, weaponized in a way no man that dorky should ever be capable of. 

And, of course, your weak willed heart gives that familiar little twist that makes you feel bad for the deranged lil pervert.

Somehow, you always find yourself caving to the will of your hopeless otaku boyfriend—who you inexplicably still love despite his many, many ick-inducing preferences.  

“Fiiiine Toru, I’mma do this for you—”

“Yayyyy!”

Ecstatically cheering, in his excitement Gojo nearly falls out of the swing he just proclaimed was “uber safe” in his excitement. He quickly steadies himself, the swing still swaying as you roll your eyes and step closer.

“But no roleplay, got it?” 

Nodding aggressively Gojo’s just happy to get you in the swing at all. 

He’s had a full on boner since you suggested 69’ing over an hour ago and doing it in the swing Gojo knows will be 100 times better!

“Yes, yes! No roleplay—ya know there’s really no need when you already look like my smokin’ hot n’ sexy hentai succubus in that lingerie, Bunny!”

You roll your eyes once more but the heat creeping up your cheeks betrays you. 

Dressed in ruby red lace plunge corset halter with matching red lace crotchless panties, you figure all you’re missing is a pair of horns and a tail, and you’d play the part a little too well.

Naturally, Gojo had picked it out and had it custom made just for you. 

So of course, it fits like a dream—hugging every curve, the color making your skin glow in all the right places. His eyes haven’t left you since you put it on, practically devouring you whole, and now you can feel the weight of Gojo’s lustful gaze like a second layer of fabric covering every inch of your skin.

“Hmph, just shut it…” 

Grumbling under your breath, you reluctantly follow his instructions and awkwardly shuffle around to his head so you’d be facing the right way, towards his feet.

You try to be as graceful as possible easing into the stirrups Gojo had so meticulously prepared so the swing didn’t shift more than necessary. Straddling his face, the swing's ropes gripped tightly in your hands, your slit hovering over his eager mouth. 

“And you’re sure this is safe…m’ not gonna have any leverage to move my legs in the harness—what if I smother you?”

Your complaints have zero effect. 

When you look down at him between your legs his perfect teeth are grinning wider than a cheshire cat.

“Baby, that’s the point!” 

Gojo eyes manically sparkle. Unlike you his crazed subconscious has zero concerns of self-preservation. 

“Who needs oxygen? Ya know my lungs were built to breathe my pervy princess’s coochie air!”

An all too familiar cringe creeps up your spine and you drop your hips down without warning—silencing him, and in the most effective way possible before he completely kills the mood.

While you couldn’t stand the deviant ass shit that came out of Gojo’s mouth 95% of the time, you more than appreciated just how well he used that vulgar mouth of his.

And now, with his entire face smothered beneath you, lips, nose, and vision completely engulfed by your pussy and peachy rear, Gojo couldn’t say another unhinged word even if he wanted to.

Not that he minded one tiny bit.

Groaning unabashfully into your suffocating heat, Gojo figured if this is how he went out—your cute lil’ cunt filling his mouth, nose almost reaching your crack and thighs locked securely around his ears—he’d take it. 

Happily. 

Gojo only hoped he’d built up enough karma that he could request looping this moment on repeat in the afterlife—it for real would be his heaven.

Pinned in place by your thighs, Gojo wastes no time getting to work—slurping and licking, murmuring intelligible unrepentant filth in your cunt while his tongue drags through your folds like he’s already mapped out every crevice and easily knows how  to draw every ounce of creamy release from your body. 

If your coochie air was his oxygen, your juices were definitely his water.

His hands grip your ass, spreading you wider, tilting your hips to get the perfect angle the way he’s mouthing at your clit with sloppy, open-mouthed hunger has your whole body twitching above him.

Meanwhile, his cock throbs hot against your tongue, as you take him into your mouth.

You suck him down slowly at first, hollowing your cheeks, feeling the way his thighs jerk beneath you every time your throat clenches and enjoying the power you have over him as he’s just as sensitive and easily overstimulated as you are.

Saliva drips down your chin, pooling at your collarbone, and his deep groan vibrates in your walls like a tuning fork—shit it feels so good. 

You’re grinding now, rolling your hips in sync with the rocking motions of the swing, chasing friction.

As both you and Gojo spiral deeper into your frenzy for more, the swing jerks wildly beneath you, rocking with every desperate thrust. It takes everything in you to keep yourself steady—sweat-slicked limbs straining against the restraints, threatening to slip free. 

It should be concerning, but the chaos only heightens your high, feeding the reckless momentum. 

Your whole body tingles with adrenaline racing through you, so the thought of telling him to slow down never even registers. 

Not like Gojo could even stop if he wanted to, not when his mouth stays latched to your cunt like a man in a trance. Each groan vibrates against your sopping heat, and your arousal smears messily across his face. 

His chin glossy with the evidence of your unraveling while he is already in pieces beneath you, rutting upward, thrusting his cock deeper into your throat with more force. You can’t even be mad. 

Gojo is using you like one of his precious anime fleshlights and fuck—you love it.

Your own throat becomes its own erogenous zone as your slutty nature once again proves more than compatible with all his kinks. Dizzy from the lack of air you can’t stop shaking as your orgasm rips out of you without warning. A messy convulsion that sends your fluids cascading down his chin as your thighs clamp tight around his face. 

You try to pull away, but your body locks as your muscles seize and release, everything clenching and pulsing in waves.

At the same time, Gojo moans into your cunt, spilling down your throat with a hot, forceful gush. 

You gag slightly, stunned by the sheer volume as he cums harder than he has any right to, the swing jerking violently from the force of his twitching hips.

In his overstimulated haze, he slips his hands free from the top restraints and reaches up—to do what, exactly, you’ll never know.

Because that’s when it happens.

BAM!

The sound is sharp, metallic—wrong.

Then a sudden snap, followed by a sickening lurch.

You both drop halfway before jerking to an off-kilter halt, the swing tilted at a nauseating angle. The both of you tangled up like two oversexed insects caught in a net.

Gojo grunts beneath you—or now, technically on top of you, since the entire rig has twisted mid-fall. 

One of your legs is tangled in what used to be his arm loop, the other pinned somewhere under his torso. One arm’s trapped behind your back, the other mashed awkwardly under your chest.

And Gojo? 

His head is near your hip, arms hanging freely now, while the rest of his body is a knot of long limbs and useless leverage crushing down on you.

“I think… we might’ve broken it.” 

Gojo mutters sheepishly, voice too casual for the situation.

You don’t even have the energy to yell. 

You're stuck, soaked in sweat and cum, crushed by a six-foot-tall menace who thinks this is a good time to crack jokes.

“GET ME OUTTA HERE, TORU!”

“I’m trying, Bunny! Just—hold on—I’ll fix it!”

You feel him shift, trying to maneuver with his arms, but every time he jerks the swing groans ominously, ropes stretching and straining under your combined weight.

“Oh! Baby, wait! My phone!”

He perks up, bright with hope. 

You hear him start swinging the rig again, attempting to gain momentum toward the side table but the whole motion is an awkward attempt you already know is doomed to fail. 

You feel his cock—rehardening—slap lightly against your forehead with each forward swing.

“Are you seriously getting turned on right now?!”

Your voice cracks halfway between disbelief and a sob.

“We are going to DIE in here, Toru!”

“No, no no! Don’t worry, my sweet ecchi angel!” 

Gojo chirps attempting to cheer you up.

“The maids should be here soon. They do rounds every two hours in case… y’know… something like this happens.”

“…In case? This has happened before?!”

You freeze in realization that you actually needed people to help you out of this situation. 

Suddenly, you’ve never been more thankful for the Gojo family’s legally soul-binding NDAs—or the fact that their domestic staff was paid enough to keep their mouths shut for life. God, if even one person (besides Suguru, who Gojo told everything to) found out the sheer number of times you’d been caught half-naked in compromising positions with the lil freak?

You’d have to change your name, or move countries—better yet? Fake your own death.

This though? This wins. 

This takes the fucking cake.

You shut your eyes, already tallying up all the shit you were going to have Gojo buy for you to make up for this debacle—including the psych eval to assess what mental condition you had that kept you tied to this hopeless dork. 

“Hey, Bunny baaaaabe…”

Gojo interrupts your train of thought and you take a mental pause to compose yourself. You decide getting more upset would do nothing to help your current situation. 

“...yeah, Toru?”

Gojo hums contentedly, nuzzling his face into your plump thighs like they’re his favorite pillow. His eyes are half-lidded, glazed with bliss as he stares between your legs at the mess he made—already plotting how to make it even filthier.

“I can’t reach my phone. But if you help me swing a little more, I think I can grab the anal beads on this other table here, ya know… if ya wanna try em’ out while we wait…”

It’s silent for a moment as you stare blankly up at the ceiling. 

Not hearing a no Gojo starts swinging again with renewed purpose. 

You quickly realize he’s putting in more effort to reach those beads than he ever did his phone.

Now you’re resolved though. 

Trashing the list in your mind, there's only one thing you needed after this—the one thing that would ensure you’d never be in a situation like this again.

“Gojo. Satoru. First thing tomorrow? You’re getting neutered!”

♋ Sukuna Ryomen—gets jealous, again (previous drabble):

“Kunaaaa, s’not f-fair!”

You sob, gulping in air as your swollen, spit-slick lips leave one of his cocks—just for a moment—before descending onto the other.

Sukuna hadn’t put up much of a fight when you suggested 69’ing—which frankly shocked you as he’s never known to be any kind of agreeable. 

Even then it was a logistical nightmare considering the sheer size of him in his true form. 

You make it work though, with him sitting up, his massive body contorting just enough to accommodate you. He lounges back against the headboard of his pitch-black bed while you’re draped over him, sloping at a downward angle, trying your best to keep up.

But the bastard’s cheating.

Because instead of using the actual mouth on his face—he’s using the one on his fucking hand again.

“Oh? Well, that’s your own fault. You never specified me using my actual mouth, whore.”

Urgh, everything to Sukuna was rules and fucking technicalities so there was no arguing with him, especially when he was right—and he’d change the rules if he wasn’t.

You know you have to choose your words carefully around Sukuna who would try to manipulate the situation in any way he could to taunt you.

Sure, his hand felt fucking phenomenal—but that wasn’t the point! 

You wanted to feel his actual mouth on your cunt for once! Sukuna had only used his stomach mouth to taste you before.   

Lost in your thoughts Sukuna senses you slacking and one of his hands slides from your waist to force your head down further, burying him in your mouth to the hilt. 

You choke, gagging around him, your muffled moans and feeble protests swallowed whole as he cocks slam into the depths of your throat—just as the tongue on his hand plunges deeper into your quivering cunt, lapping up every drop of creamy slick it coaxes out with relentless, writhing strokes.

“Besides woman, with the shit job you are doing right now you should have no fucking complaints.”

Sukuna, of course, thinks you’re being a fucking brat—especially with the way your cunt keeps fluttering around his tongue, giving away just how good he’s making you feel, hand or not.

You’re close—Sukuna can feel it, knows it. He’s always said he knows your body better than you do, so you might as well stop thinking and let him take the lead. Be his obedient little cumdump—you’d feel good no matter what he did.

All of that may be true, however, you have a little knowledge of your own. 

One you had hid well from him thus far—and that’s you also know Sukuna far more than you let on.

For example:

You know he hates doing anything unless he thinks it's his idea.

You know he can be a stubborn SOB who will never relent to petulant begging or pitiful whines—no, he’d reveal in that suffering.

But most importantly, you know just how prideful he is. 

So you’re not surprised in the least it would come to this as you remember with renewed clarity the last time Sukuna used his hand tongue on you when he knew you’d wanted his actual mouth—so you switch tactics. 

Appearing to give into his whims completely, melting into the pleasure, you hum around his cock and push your hips back. Your pelvis tilts just right, bouncing against the mouth on his hand so your clit slaps perfectly against the rough, battle-worn heel of his palm with every roll of your hips.

The effect is electrically blinding. 

Sukuna tenses beneath you, his muscles twitching as the vibrations of your gratuitous cries ripple down one of his thick, tatted cock, surrounding it in a heat that if he wasn’t a cursed object he would think could melt his dick clean off. 

The other, you work steadily with both hands—slick with spit and streaked with thick globs of pre spilling freely from the swollen, angry tip.

And when you moan around him again—this time humming, his cock encased in your buzzing throat—Sukuna stills. 

Just for a breath. 

Just long enough for you to think maybe you’ve done something wrong before his hips surge upward, spearing his cock into your throat with brutal force.

“Fuckin’ tease.”

The words come out more as an animalistic snarl and immediately the mouth on his hand clamps down on your cunt—tongue twisting and curling wickedly inside your pussy, swirling around your clit, suckling like it’s trying to drain you dry.

Catapulting to the very top of your peak, your back arches instinctively, body convulsing in a violent shudder as your walls spasm around the intruding tongue in your core. The very appendage that has now grown long enough to abuse your gooey g-spot—ending you completely as you tumble over your peak.

Sukuna lets out a growl that if you were in any kind of clear state of mind you would have identified as a gruff whimper, his head snapping back against the headboard—causing the entire room to quake. 

You barely register the hot, punishing flood that erupts down your throat, still lost in the throws of your own ecstasy. Sukuna keeps you there, hands locked on your hips and head, using your spasming body to squeeze every last drop from his cock as his release pulses through you.

By the time he lets you go, you barely have the strength to hold yourself up. 

Your mind is white noise, your vision swimming.

Huffing with dizzy puffs from the lack of oxygen, you’re messily coughing up a river of your drool and his seed. Flecks splatter haphazardly across your neck and chest. 

Recovering quickly, used to his rough play, you release an airy giggle.

“Ah—ha! Mmm, that was amazing! K-Kuna… you were right—”

A blissed out expression on your face as you turn your head back to face Sukuna.

“—your hand’s mouth is much better skilled—the best actually! Thank you my King!”

Your giggles are continuous, still delirious and high off the rush, turning back around to press your lips to the tip of the cock you’d just been jerking. It’s still twitching—thick and needy, still backed up and pulsing for release.

Swaying your hips side to side, inside you are smug in the way only a woman completely out of her mind can be, knowing full well Sukuna’s seething behind that stony expression, yet you are unfazed.

And just as you predicted—he’s livid.

Hearing your carefree little hums, Sukuna’s eyes glow red—his rage growing as seemingly are utterly oblivious to just how offensive your words truly were. 

Who the fuck do you think you are? Acting like his hand is better than his mouth?

He never said that. He never even implied it.

You must’ve fucking lost your mind, it woudn’t be the first time he’d think your salacious lil cunt had poisoned your mind.

Because the King of Curses using his mouth? 

That’s not a given—it’s a fucking privilege. 

One you were never meant to have. 

A lowly little concubine like you? Barely worthy of his cock, let alone his tongue.

And you even requested this 69 position in the first place? That was your first mistake, he’d only indulged you so he could fuck with you again.

You’re his toy—his whore. 

You exist to bend to his will—not the other way around.

Sukuna continues to watch you with contempt. His boiling, bubbling under the surface, more angered by your ignorance. Especially as you glance over your shoulder once more with a too-sweet idiotic smile and a sing-song—

“My King~~ May you use your other hand this time? I wanna compare them!” 

Oh yeah that did it, this is war now. 

And so Sukuna snaps. Utterly and violently, losing his shit.

With a guttural growl, Sukuna yanks you back—ripping you clean off his cock like it offended him. Two of his massive, veined hands wrench your folds apart right in front of his face, while the other two clamp down on your thighs in a bruising grip, pinning you wide open. 

Then his mouth— his actual mouth—attacks. Devouring your pussy, he hums low in his throat. Shaking his head side to side like he’s trying to rip into your flesh. The force of the reverberation sends your nerves into overdrive, and your vision goes glassy, colors smearing at the edges like oil paint as your reality shifts at its intensity.

Still too sensitive and still being affected by the aftershocks of your first orgasm—you’re useless now. Your face slumps against his chiseled abs as drool spills freely from your slack mouth, pooling beside you.

Sukuna’s so hellbent on proving a point, he doesn’t even notice you’ve stopped touching his cock—swollen, twitching, and downright furious from neglect, swaying with every rock of the bed like it’s protesting the lack of attention. But he’s too deep in his own ego-trip to care.

He’s played himself, yet again.

Sukuna only pauses long enough to spit into your tantalizing cunt—mean, messy, and laced with loathing—his lips, glossed in your juices, curling into that cruel, self-satisfied smirk. 

He’s far too wrapped up in the jealous high of his own tantrum to register the dazed, blissed-out smile stretched across your face as you arch back deeper into his mouth.

“You dare to mock me, silly woman? The King of Curses? I’ll show this poor filthy hole what a real mouth feels like, Slut.”

And really, that’s all you wanted all along.

♋ Geto Suguru—ends up punishing you:

“Suck me right, Bunny. Weren’t you the one who pouted until I agreed to this?”

Smack!

You let out a broken moan, the sharp sting of Suguru’s slap blooms across your bottom—sending a jolt straight to your core.

It was true you had asked—no practically begged until Suguru relented to trying 69ing. 

Yet in the moment you were failing miserably, far too overwhelmed by your own pleasure to properly service him.

“Shall I get someone else, hm? A more devout follower who can be more attentive perhaps?”

Suguru speaks the words right into your core before giving your soppy folds one last lick as if he would make good on his words.

“N-N-NO! I’ll d-do it! Puhleaseee, G-Geto-sam—AH!”

Suguru sighs. 

His threats are mostly hollow—he would stop if you didn’t focus, but none could compare to your slutty little mouth, that sloppy thing was in a league all of her own.

Which is exactly why this was so fucking frustrating.

You’d pleaded for this position with those wide, babydoll eyes and like a fool he caved.

He should’ve said no. He knew better.

Not that Suguru was ever opposed to eating you out, on the contrary, it was one of his favorite rituals. Bending you over his ornate cypress desk, your skirt shoved up, and him diving face first into your slippery cunt was a nirvana all on its own.

But now? This feels more like hell. 

What with you naked, stretched out above him, while his cock—freed from his robes—twitches with impatience, bobbing near your slack-jawed mouth. 

You’re trying. He can tell. 

But every time his tongue grazes your messy folds, your brain short-circuits like a broken shrine lamp.

Suguru knew this would happen. 

He knows just how sensitive his little slut is.

How your entire body jolts from the slightest flick of his tongue swirling around your clit. How one well-placed stroke of his fingers, pressing against the gooey spongy spot in your dripping core is enough to erase every coherent thought in your airy little head.

When Suguru is fully feasting on you like your pussy is a tabehodai buffet, tongue buried deep, lapping with reverence and precision. He’s honestly surprised you’re still breathing, given how useless your brain has become.

You barely had gotten your lips around him before your mouth agape, spittle drizzling down in lazy drips upon his angry red tip.

It’s enough to drive a man to madness.

That’s why he initially refused when you asked him to do this, knowing he would be blue balled by your slutty incompetence. 

Suguru is—at best—exasperated. His cock pulses, neglected and throbbing, hot puffs of your breath ghosting over the head while your whole body trembles from the overstimulation he’s graciously providing. Each soft cry, each weak twitch of your fingers, only fuels the annoyance simmering in his gut.

Still, Suguru doesn’t stop. He never could deprive himself of his favorite indulgence. His tongue sinks deeper into your fluttering heat, savoring the way your cunt clenches around nothing like it’s begging to be filled.

Then comes another slap—firm and biting against your ass. But instead of correcting you, it only makes you moan louder, body jolting with another blissed-out tremor that shoots straight through his tongue.

He sighs again.

This was all quite enough. 

If you were going to be a useless little doll, he might as well treat you like one.

Before you can process what’s happening, Suguru moves—faster than your panting breath. 

Sliding out from beneath you, he flips your boneless body onto your back across the desk, your head dangling off the edge. Blinking up at the ceiling in a confused daze you hear the low scrape of his chair rolling forward. Then—Suguru’s hands are gripping your thighs as his mouth finds your clit again—harder this time, more purposeful, tongue flattening and circling in a frenzy.

His fingers spear into your soaked heat without hesitation, dragging along that tender, swollen spot with expert cruelty.

OH FUH~!

Almost immediately you gush, squirt streaming down his fingers as you orgasm quickly follows, your body shaking.  You soiling his desk, his robes and you are sure of any papers or documents in the direct vicinity. Suguru doesn’t stop though, abusing your weak spot over and over until you forget what plane of existence you are even on—until you're screaming, cumming so hard it's almost painful.  

Only when your eyes are glassy and unfocused, tongue lolling lewdly from your lips, does Suguru finally relent—satisfied with the twitching, pleasure-drunk mess he’s reduced you to atop his desk.

Immobile, loose and complacent, your head still hangs over the edge, mouth open and inviting—good, exactly how he wanted you.

Now it’s his turn.

Rising smoothly from his plush chair, Suguru’s palm glides across your trembling body as he makes his way around the desk, savoring the heat still radiating off your skin.

You’re gasping, chest rising in uneven waves, when he reaches down—fingers wrapping around your neck with a gentle squeeze, thumbs rubbing lazy circles over your windpipe like he’s warming up his favorite instrument.

Suguru’s cock throbs at the sight—heavy and aching with denied release, balls drawn tight and desperate to flood your belly full with his salty fluids.

A soft, anticipatory groan escapes him as he tilts your head just right.

“Now be a good little fuckdoll, Bunny…” 

Suguru commands, lips curling into a thin, wide grin.

“…and say ah~”

©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.

♋ an: im pretty proud of this cause i wrote this all in like 3 days. am i getting my groove back? 💕🤭

choso's is coming soon, but its a bigger story. lol return of bitchy reader tho (plug!choso girlies know the vibes cjhdsfjhdjf).

𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐱 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬!

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Knock knock~ Hey I saw how you wanted some tickle requests for rise, how bout something like lee!Mikey and ler!Donnie. Maybe Mikey Is being Mikey and Donnie wrecks him with tickles?

~ 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚟𝚜. 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎’𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 ~

💜🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @rice-cake-teen10 💜🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝙹𝚂𝙷𝙳𝚈𝚆𝙹𝚂𝙷 𝙷𝙸 𝙼𝙾𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙴 🫶🏾💖💕✨!!! 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 (𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍) 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 🫠💔. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 💞˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟷𝟷𝟷

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 (𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢’𝚜) 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝟸𝟺/𝟽! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!! 𝙾𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚢𝚑𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚙𝚑𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠—)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz @savemeafruitjuice @saturnzskyzz

@my-l0v3r-v3rse @titters-and-tingles @cedarrthefluffylee

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚑 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 🫠👍🏾

𝚃𝚆: 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐— 𝚢𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚕𝚕𝚕 🤩🫶🏾

*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙿 𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙿!!! 𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈 𝚈’𝙰𝙻𝙻!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Donnnnniieeeee!” Mikey whined loudly, bursting into his older brother’s room completelyunannounced, basically breaking off the hinges of the door just to get inside. 

The scientist in question fought back the irritated groan that was bubbling in his throat as his brother walked in, continuing to type on his computer as the box turtle inched closer and closer towards him. “Michaeeeelllll.” Donnie replied without looking up from his device, his monotone voice not quitematching the same enthusiasm as his sibling’s when the youngest called his name— but close! 

To an extent, anyway.

“What is it that you require, Michael?” The purple loving turtle asked, “I’m quite busy right now.” 

The youngest turtle bit back a groan, crossing his arms and raising one of his eye ridges disapprovingly, “Busy doing what? All I see is you typing on your computer like you work a nine to five.” 

“Dealing with you is like working a nine to five.”The taller turtle retorted, “But anyways, while you’re here, I would very much appreciate it if you looked over my coding for one of my inventions.” The elder went into a file and as a result, a handful of numbers and signs showed up on the screen. 

The box turtle squinted his eyes as if he was nearsighted; looking closer at the codings to try and decipher what the actual hell his brother was expecting him to look for.

“Yes, yes. I know.” The scientist huffed, “It’s very traumatizing to look at. Trust me…I would know, I made the darn thing.” 

“It looks like your face. That’s traumatizing enough.” The youngest grinned smugly.

“…I don’t even know why I try…” The second oldest grumbled, “Okay, now off with thee. I have work to do.” Donatello said as he lightly pushed the youngest away from him so he could leave him to his work. But Mikey stood his ground firmly, going up to his older brother and sitting on his lap, making sure that he slouched just the right amount so that Donnie couldn’t see the device screen.

The elder sighed at the behavior, trying his best to get his younger brother off of him but every time he at least attempted to, the youngest would just put more of his body weight onto him. “Audible groan…gehet off of meehee!” Donnie whined in defeat as Mikey grinned triumphantly. 

“Nah. Your pretty comfy. It’s like sitting on a sofa.” 

“You’re built like a sofa, you goon! Now get off of me!” Donatello huffed, pushing on his little brother’s shell in one last attempt to get this orange life draining leech away from his precious body. 

“Ihi aham giving you fihive seconds to gehet off.” 

“Ohor whahat? Yohou gonna shohow meehee more coding?” 

Donnie raised an amused brow, resting his hands at the youngest’s sides but not quite moving his fingers yet. The art loving teen squeaked in surprise at the new sensation at his sides, immediately hugging his middles protectively, “D-Dohohon’t!” 

“One…two…”

Donnie held Mikey’s sides with his hands.

“Three…four…”

He rolled his eyes fondly, pinching the younger’s sides softly as he started to tickle him.

“Five.”

The orange banded teen giggled immediately, squirming in his older brother’s lap ever so slightly, “Stahap ihit!” He squeaked, holding onto his brother’s wrists as the softshell couldn’t help but lightly chuckle at the gesture. 

“Do you reallllly want me to stop or are you just saying that?” The elder smirked, “You could’ve gotten out of my lap but you chose not to.” 

The artist loving teen blushed slightly at the question, “Dohonnie weehee ahahare nahat doing thihis right nohow!”

“I’m just asking you a simple question, little brother. I don’t understand the difficulty with you failing to answer it…” The purple banded teen hummed as he dug his hands into the other’s underarms, “Yes or no?”

The art loving turtle screamed, kicking his legs in the air and shaking his head back and forth. “YeHES! Freeheeaking *squeak* stahaHAP!” 

“Oh, so yes? So you do want me to continue tickling you?” Donatello grinned at his choice of wordplay. The youngest’s laughter raised an octave as he squirmed and tried to slip away from his brother’s tickly grasp and fingers. 

The taller turtle quickly typed in his wristwatch, his spider arms coming out of his battle-shell and holding the other’s wrists, pulling his arms away so he couldn’t hug his middles nor squirm away. 

Mikey gulped comically, squirming in his brother’s lap still. “N-NAHA— *squeak* noho! JuhUST NOHOHOH!”

“Ohhhhh. I understand now. So you don’t want me to stop tickling you?” 

“STAHAP TWIHISTING MYHY WOHORDS!” 

“I’m not!” The young genius grinned, “I’m just asking you to clarify!”

The smaller turtle squealed loudly, attempting to pull his wrists free from the spider arms but all his attempts ending in vain as his older brother just continued to tickle him.

“So just clarifying…you want me to continue tickling you?” 

“DEEHEEHEE!!!”

“What~? I’m just asking if you want me to tickle you. That you perhaps came in here with the intention of getting tickled by yours truly—“

“STAH— *squeal* *squeak* STAHAP STAHAP STAHAP!!!”

Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother’s frantic giggles, stopping his tickling attack but wiggling his fingers directly above the other turtle’s ribs, causing the younger’s heart to drop in anticipation as he squirmed like he’s never squirmed before. 

The softshell poked the smaller turtle’s ribs teasingly a couple times, “You gonna get off of me now~?”

“IHI CAHA— *squeal* IHI CAHAN’T— *squeak*!!!” The younger teen cried out. Michelangelo was completely lost in his own laughter wonderland, still trying to at least get UP from his older brother’s lap. But with the softshell’s spider arms holding his wrists away from him, it made it even harder. 

And the fact that he was completely laughing his shell off didn’t help either. 

AND the fact that Donnie was making some dumb game out of this wasn’t helping either.

If there was one thing you needed to know about the youngest, it was that Mikey could not take the anticipation. At all.

Like, at. ALL.

And Donnie was just being pure Disney villain evil about it too. Which automatically made absolutely everything ten times worse…

Wait. Hold on a second…

What were even some purple Disney villain’s that Donnie resembled anyway?

Because at the end of the day the second oldest was a villain (no one just has uranium just casually stored in their room…), but Mikey just had to find out which villain. 

The Evil queen? Nah. Too princessy. 

Ursula? Nope. Too sea witchy. 

Maleficent? No. Too emo (even for Donnie). 

Dr. Facilier? …yes actually. 

Donnie and Dr. Facilier don’t have similar goals per se but they definitely do look similar. And they dance the same to. They boogie down like they’re wet noodles just coming out of a boiling pot. 

The box turtle isn’t usually known for throwing people under the bus…but somewhere, somehow, his purple cladded older brother was definitely on the watch list. 

Now…what was Mikey doing?

Oh, yeah! Getting absolutely murdered by his older brother. Fantastic.  

“Someone’s a little ticklish, huh?” The elder commented as the box turtle’s laughter kept ranging from a squeaky door to a door mouse. 

“GYAHAH— *squeak* WAHA— EEEEHEHAHA!!!”

“Don’t worry, take your time.” The scientist giggled back.

“PLEHEASE!! DAHA— *squeak*!!! IHI CAHAN’T MOOHOOHOOVE!”

“So what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to get up from my lap?”

Mikey screeched, hitting his brother’s plastron with his shell and carapace, “IHI PHYSICAHALLY CAHAHANNOT MOOHOOVE YOHOU FUHUCKIN—!!!” 

“I can give you until the count of ten. I’m adding an extra five seconds just because I’m so nice.”

“YOHOU AHARE NOHOWHERE NEAR NIHICE—“

“One…”

“WAHAIT WAHAHAIT!!!”

“Two…”

“DOHOH— *squeal* DEEHEE!”

“Three…”

“SHIHIHIT!!!”

“Four…”

“PLEHEHA— *squeal* MYHY GAHAHASH!”

“Five…”

“JUHUST GEHET OHOHON WIHITH IHIHIT!” 

“Six…”

“DOHOHONNIE!!”

“Seven…”

“I WIHILL KIHILL YOHOU IN YOHOUR SLEEHEEHEEP!”

“I’d like to see you try. Anyways, eight…”

“EEEEEEE!!!”

“Nine…”

“GOHODDAMIHIT!”

“Ten~!”

Mikey braced himself both physically and mentally as Donnie said that dreadful double digit number. He rested the back of his head on his older brother’s shoulder, closing his eyes and pursing his lips to prepare from the attack. 

But as the smaller mutant kept waiting and waiting…the tickles never came. The youngest hesitantly opened one eye as he saw his older brother’s fingers still wiggling right directly over his ribs. 

All the while, the elder just smirked evilly. The box turtle grumbled through his stifled giggles, looking up so he could glare fully at his brother.

Dr. Facilier looking ass…

“Here it comes…” The young genius said with anticipation, “Annnnny moment…”

The box turtle broke eye contact, just shutting his eyes tight as he could do absolutely nothing but wait for his brother to do the inevitable. “You must be absolutely dying knowing it’s coming…” Donnie commented as Mikey just about screamed, not being able to hold the dam that was holding his laughs in any longer.

The softshell smiled at the cackles, tracing his fingers on his younger brother’s stomach, “I’m just sointrigued to find out what would happen if I just..” He trailed off, randomly poking right below the art loving turtle’s ribs. 

The taller mutant just absolutely loved putting his brother’s on anticipatory rollercoaster’s when tickling them (as you can see).

“I could stay here alllllll day…” The elder mused, “My hands are riiiiiight here, Angleo~!”

“Fuhuhuck yohou…” Mikey giggled through gritted teeth, trying not to give his older brother an ounce of laughter whatsoever…but that ship has already sailed and went to a new ocean by now.  

“Oh, wow. Cussing me out now, hm?” The purple banded turtle questioned in disbelief as he landed a couple last pokes to Mikey’s lower ribs,  “NONONOHO NOHOHO! OHOMIGAHAHASH IHI’M SAHAHARRY!!!” The youngest immediately gave in and apologized, his laughs raising a higher octave than a flute ever possibly could as he descended into loud cackles. 

“Really? Your 'sahaharry?'”

“YEHES *squeal* YEHEHEHES!!!”

The elder hummed in acknowledgment, scribbling his nails all over his baby brother’s ribs. Happy tears appeared in the younger’s eyes as he could really do nothing but just laugh at this point in time. 

The youngest could barely even speak anymore, his giggles and squeals nearly drowning out his words, “STAHAH IHI C— *squeal* IHIHIT’S SOHO BAHAHAD!!! DEEHEE COHOME OHOHAHAN!” 

“Amused laugh. Angelo, please. I’m barely tickling you.” Donnie said as he now kneaded Mikey’s lowest rib. In result, the younger immediately jolted backwards, catching the older teen completely off guard. 

“OMIGOSH!!!” Donnie yelled in panic, his metal and meat fingers both stopping the tickling onslaught towards Mikey as he hugged him fully now. The scientist and the artist both fell down on the tile floor with the chair; the young geniuses battle-shell breaking their fall. 

There was a slight pause of silence before both of the brother’s broke into a large fit of laughter. Michelangelo stood, helping his brother up as they both continued to laugh.

“Thahat wahas…oho my gohosh…” The softshell snickered, wiping a tear from his eye as he put the chair back to where it originally was. “Yohou lihiterally jumped uhus into tomorrow…” He commented. 

Michelangelo panted heavily and let out soft giggles as he tried to catch his breath. The box turtle’s face was burning from how hard he’d been laughing but also because of how flustered he was due to the situation. 

Mikey shrugged, “Whahat cahan I say? I’m aha mahahaster ahat acrobatics.” 

Donatello raised a brow teasingly, facing his younger brother, “Oho, so you can do acrobatics but you can’t dance?” 

“Okahay, now you juhust ruined thehehe moment.” 

The purple banded turtle just chuckled, closing his laptop and putting it to charge on the desk. The smaller turtle grinned, going next to Donnie, “Sohoooo! Does thahat mean yohou like meehee mohore thahahan your computer and coding~?”

Donatello shrugged, trying to look uninterested, “Eh. I suppose so.” 

“Awe, c’mon. You lohooove me.” 

“I tolerate you. To an extent, anyway.” 

“Wow. Thanks so much. I feel sooooo special.” Mikey deadpanned, putting a hand to his chest as Donnie hugged him. “As you should.” The elder said, glancing at his wrist-watch. “Hm. We should probably get some snacky-snacks…it’s around 1 p.m.” He stated, trying to walk to the exit/entrance but was stopped due to the result of the youngest still hugging him. 

Donatello sighed fondly, peering down to the teen in question, “Your not going to let go of me, are you?” 

“Nooope!” 

“Figured.” The scientist huffed softly, shaking his head. 

“Now let’s go to the kitchen!”Michelangelo beamed, him and Donnie shimmy-ing out of the purple room and into the hallway, on their way to find some 'snacky-snacks' to eat for lunch. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[reignpage]

The More The Merrier

Summary: in which you find out for yourself the order the jjk men would take if they all wanted a taste of that cookie and, trust, they know how to get along well when you’re on the line…but are they getting along a little too well? Warning: porn with no plot, f!reader, dubcon?, orgy, sevensome, cunnilingus, tit slapping, spitting, dirty talk - praise and degradation, fingering, overstimulation, throat fucking, hand jobs, face slapping, dom!men, sub!choso, boobjob/paizuri, cum eating, homosexual moments ahem, SatoSugu, senses deprivation, voyeurism and exhibitionism, brief foot play, hair pulling, dumbification, brief mention of rimming, creampie, mentions of anal, throat bulging, uhhh I may or may not have bullied Choso in this fic sorry Choso fans, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna Word Count: 4k

“Oh, look, she’s shaking,” Satoru remarks at an intentionally obnoxious volume. He looks back down at your naked form, laid out all pretty for their feasting. “You cold?”

Light laughter ripples around the room. Their amused, mocking timbre tickles your skin. How you got here in the first place is impossible to say but the reality is clear – they, with their hungry, piercing stares roving your curves, will not let you go until they’ve had their fill. 

Suguru, long hair tied up so it won’t get in the way of the sadistic desires that courses through his veins, steps forward, running his smooth fingers down your torso, starting from the dip in your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, the slope of your stomach, circling your belly button, and stopping at the highest peak of your mound. “Don’t be so mean, Satoru. You know weak little things like her can’t help it.”

“I’m mean?”

“Enough with the small talk. Are we fucking her or what?” Toji asks. Scar on plump lips stretching with his eager grin, he swings a heavy leg onto the bed, the mattress dipping with his weight. A large paw lands onto your breast, squeezing with no shame or restriction. He grunts. “Got a nice pair on ya, doll.”

A firm slap on your cheek startles you. It didn’t hurt but it did make heat rise to your face.

“He gave you a compliment. Where are your manners?” 

Wild, pink hair comes into view. So does a bone-chilling sneer. Sukuna looks thoroughly displeased as he scowls down at you. Volatile red eyes compel you to mumble out a hastily strung together, ‘thank you.’ The fire dies out, but not before they spark with satisfaction. 

Sighing, the salaryman drags your attention to him. He’s sitting in the corner, still in his work clothes, albeit suit jacket-less. Thick thighs threatening to burst out of the confines of his tailored trousers spread to reveal an impressive bulge that makes you salivate. The corner of his lips twitch. “We can’t all have our way with her at the same time. There should be an order to these things, no?”

Satoru sits at the foot of the bed, brushing a thumb over the bone in your ankle. “So, what? We do rock, paper, scissors to decide who goes first? I’m up for it but I'm not sure Kunapooh’s very fond of the idea.”

The ‘Kunapooh’ in question snarls. He looks murderous – more so than usual. Your hand rushes out and grips his wrist. He releases a tense breath, rolls his shoulders, and snatches his arm from your clutch, but not before he slaps your free breast just to watch it bounce. You have a feeling there’s gonna be a lot of that tonight.

Satoru’s shit-eating grin widens and he makes a clawed gesture at Sukuna, pairing it with a, ‘rawr.’

Eager to get back on track, Kento replies, “I don’t believe we need to resort to that. It seems clear to me that we all agree on who should have the honour of going first… I’m happy to go second or third.”

“Aw, no way. Why do virgins get special treatment?”

All eyes fall on the man standing awkwardly to the side, unsure of where to put his hands. Bare chested and hair tied in loose and messy pigtails, Choso looks out of place. You beckon him over with a smile. Silently, he lets you pull the waistband of his pants down. His cock springs out, hard and leaking already. To his credit, he doesn’t blush when the men laugh at him, far too captivated by the soft hand gliding up and down his long length. 

Toji huffs in amusement. “Seems like he’s in no rush to get in on this.”

Gruffly, Sukuna adds, “Pathetic fool’s not ready anyway.”

“Can I have his turn then? Since I’m the best, I should be number one in line.”

“Choso,” Kento says, still sitting in the chair and adjusting his glasses, “are you really content with just her hand, pretty as they are? Don’t let them bully you out of your right.”

He shakes his head, babbling and muttering, “Y-yes. I want to fuck her. I want to feel her pussy.”

Arm leaning on his best friend’s shoulder, the white-haired man jokes, “I bet two thousand yen he won’t last ten minutes.”

Suguru replies, “I bet ten thousand he doesn’t last one.”

Meanwhile, Toji’s calloused fingers pet your pussy, teasing out obscene squelches that have everyone’s ears honing in. As if hypnotised, the men are pulled to you, naturally taking positions around your body like they’ve rehearsed the synchronicity a million times. Choso shudders out of your grip and rushes to kneel between your legs. Suguru and Satoru, on the other hand, literally take your hands, seeing an opportunity to put your body to use if they can’t monopolise your pussy immediately. The black-haired man massages some comfort into your palm before they both lay something hot and solid in your grasps. Reflexively, you wrap your fingers around them, and, at the same time, you jerk him and Satoru off, taking matching pace. 

They both throw their heads back.

Stepping away so Choso can have your sloppy cunt to himself, Toji keeps himself entertained with watching the stringy goo shimmering on his fingers. His eyes meet yours. With a wink, he takes them into his mouth and sucks hard, making a show of his eyes rolling back, a growl simmering out. 

“Cho, are you okay?” You wonder. He’s struggling to find your hole, poking and prodding your clit and lips with his tip in his fumbling. Growing more and more frustrated, he groans, pressing down, hard, on your lower stomach. The poor man doesn’t even notice you’re squirming, feeling the need to pee. “K-kenny? Can you help him? Please.”

“Of course, darling.” Rolling his sleeves up and displaying his sinewy arms, Kento saunters over to the bed. He pats Choso’s back and kindly suggests, “Allow me to help.”

The more inexperienced man hisses when Kento’s large hand wraps around the base of his cock with no shame. He lines the shiny cock head with expert skill to your pulsing hole and urges his apprentice’s hips by pushing him forward with his. Slowly, as if the blonde is aware of your need to be stretched in due time, a thick cock fills you up deliciously. 

Like she’s been starved her whole life, your pussy gobbles up the offering, a virginal sacrifice at the foot of a raging volcano, steadying to erupt all over the awaiting victims. 

“Oh f-fuck!” Choso’s eyes are threatening to bulge out of his head, body quivering and abs contracting. He’s leaning on the bed, forehead falling between your tits. Warn breath fans your skin as he mouths manic confessions of love. “Ama-ha-zing…you’re amazing. I never want to -fuck! s-so tight- leave.”

Suguru mutters, “I don’t think he really understands the spirit of this group activity.”

Snickering, his accomplice whispers loudly at you, “Do me a favour, baby? Go easy on the guy, yeah? I need him to last much longer.”

“Or don’t, pretty, and I’ll share my spoils with you.”

Choso has enough clarity to hiss, “You’re all such -ah hngh!- assholes.”

Your gummy walls are hugging his cock on its own, uncaring of the silly little bet the mischievous pair has going on, and it’s bliss he’s never felt before. The solid pace he’s worming his cock inside of you is perfect and it has you and Choso driven equally mad. But, based on the vibrating of his arms and the way he’s slobbering all over your tits, who’s really pummelling in and out of your cunt is Kento and the poor puppy is just along for the ride. 

“For his first time, he’s doing very well,” Toji notes, feeling awfully kind for someone who seems much younger than him but is actually inconceivably older. “At least he’s not sobbing on the poor girl; she’s soaked enough already.”

Satoru shrugs. “He’s barely making her feel good — didn’t take you for a selfish lover, Choso.”

“I-I’m not,” he argues, sounding not at all convincing with how he has to be guided by someone else for his first time, too weak to carry himself.

Interjecting, Suguru adds, “Grind your hips. Give some attention to her clit. That’s it…hear how much louder she’s moaning now? The little slut loves to have her clit rubbed, doesn’t she?”

And it’s true. You are moaning louder now, inner coils cruelly tightening up on Choso’s cock like a serpent with the perfect prey.

Kento grunts, still pushing his hips against the man’s ass like he’s fucking you through him. Judging by the flushed skin of his cheeks, it must feel good to rub his boner on Choso. The realisation has you squirming, back arching and toes curling. The blond is looking at you, watching every expression, every whimper, every gasp, every drop of drool down your chin.

Bunching up silky black hair in a firm fist, he tugs Choso’s head back, forcing you to look him in the eye. He’s too far gone already, much more fucked out than you are but looking oh so beautiful. “Look, you’re making him so good. Well done, honey. Hmm, Choso, don’t give up just yet…how is it, sweetheart? Would you like him to go faster? Harder? Talk to me, love. Tell Kenny what you need.”

A moan escapes your lips. “F-faster, Ken. Make him go faster.”

Released, he slumps back down between your breasts.

“No! No, wait, please!” Pace hastening, Choso whines and whimpers, biting onto a bouncing tit for purchase. He doesn’t want this to end so soon. His body doesn’t listen. Soon, he stumbles off of you, unable to stand the delirious pleasure your pussy was sucking out of him, whilst his cock is being wrung by the man behind him. Hips jerking into the calloused grip of someone else’s hand, he paints your torso with his scalding cum. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”

Spasms ripple up and down his spine, eyes rolled back, and then…he disappears from view. A body hits the floor. 

Still thrusting in your hands, Suguru smiles. “I believe someone -tighter, pretty girl, mhm that’s it…good girl- you owe me ten thousand yen, Satoru.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up and fuck her, ‘Kenny,’ our sweet little cock-slut didn’t get to cum thanks to Mr. Quickshot over there. No offence, Cho.”

Despite being just slightly out of view, what with the gigantic bodies looming over you, you’re sure Kento rolls his eyes. When he does step into view, he’s tugging his tie off with one hand and unbuckling his belt with the other, the metal clinking with the movement. You want to watch him undress but suddenly, your view is, once again, obstructed, but this time, by someone else’s cock. 

It’s massive – curving up, with thick veins sprinting up to a purpley-looking cockhead and dense, heavy balls hanging and swinging. Your eyes climb up another pair of thick thighs which cage your body, past a feral bush, strong torso and a hulking muscular frame, all the way up to a delicious-looking scar.

“Didn’t think I’d wait my turn, did ya, ma?” Groping both of your breasts, Toji slides his cock between them. A bead of pearly-white cum smears on your skin. Your mouth waters. “Help me out, yeah? And hurry; I need something to distract me from another man’s cum drying under my damn ass.”

You know exactly what he means so, without needing more prompting, you gather your saliva and spit a dollop onto his cock. It lands with a thwop and is rubbed in thoroughly, leaving a glistening cock in its wake. Toji calmly pushes your tits together to sandwich his dick. He takes a second, or two, to appreciate the sight – he’s no artist but he sure as hell feels like one now. In tandem with Dumb and Dumber, the three of them use your torso to get themselves off. 

Overwhelmed and overstimulated, no one pays attention to you. 

The room’s impossibly hot, crowded and prison-like now. 

So many bodies. 

So much happening all at once. 

You can’t focus on just one thing. Not on the cocks you’re jerking off in your hands, the thumbs flicking your nipples, the intense eye contact Suguru and Satoru are holding as they moan like mirror reflections, and you can just barely focus on the cock pushing in through the tight ring of muscles in your pussy. The slight pinch leaves you a gasping mess. 

Once again, you’re being filled up, but this time, the man ramming inside has no intention of cumming early. He knows you like the back of his hand. He knows the smooth, sensitive spot in your doughy walls and how it has your back arching when he kisses it with every thrust. Breathless, he grunts, “Perfect…ngh, you feel like h-heaven, my love.”

“Heaven,” someone scoffs. 

You almost forgot about the man stepping out of the shadows with a bored look on his face. Glaring right at you, he looks on the verge of burning the room into oblivion. Especially when he climbs into bed, kneeling over your head. “What do any of these bastards know about heaven?”

He grabs your throat, squeezes once and then twice, eyes fluttering shut when your breath hitches. 

Sukuna’s cock, just like everyone else, comes out. It casts a shadow over your face. You’re whining – loving the way Kento feels like he’s in your lungs whilst he hikes your thighs up and places your ankles on his broad shoulders, delighting in how Satoru is now moving your hand down to play with his balls, adoring Toji and the pinching of your nipples as he glides through the sweat building on your skin –  and hardly conscious when Sukuna swipes his cock on your lips.

Tasting salty and like a meal he’s going to force feed you, you gulp nervously.

“Open…Don’t make me repeat myself, you dumb little whore. You can take six cocks well with your greedy pussy but can your irritating mouth do something other than yip like a dog and squeal like a pig?”

Pouty, you tilt your head back and open your mouth wide to accommodate his intimidating size. 

“Good. I’m glad to know you’re not totally useless,” Sukuna mumbles under his breath, watching his cock disappear inch by inch inside your mouth. A thumb of his brushes against the length of your neck, enamoured with the warm imprint. 

He’s stunning you into mania with his immense size. You at long last become all too aware of the fact that you’re pinned to the bed with a pair of balls resting on your forehead, a man kneeling on your stomach, two dicks on your sides thrusting into your hands, and a cock plunging inside your pussy as your clit is rubbed.

Soon, your orgasm strikes like lightning inside your body. You arch up into Toji, bucking like a horse and he rides you with ease. Pussy pulsing, the sudden tightness makes Kento groan. Cum floods your walls, leaking out, pooling under your ass and staining the sheets. Such a waste, you think the salaryman says. 

“Finally! My turn.”

Your hand is abandoned and your cunt swiftly fed again. Through the cum, his dick forces its way in, lubricated and in no need of assistance. Satoru’s long digits dig into the slippery flesh of your thighs, adding to the bruises his former classmate had left.

Porn-star moans echo in the room, matching your garbled ones in half mockery and in half sincerity. He gives you no time to calm down or to get a breather, not that you can when Sukuna is all you can see, taste and smell. “You got a good -hah- load in here, Kento. Nice one. Ah shit, she’s still cumming. Fuck, I don’t think I’ll last -ngh- very long.”

Suguru chuckles. “When do you ever?”

“Ignoring that.”

Toji snorts and suggests, “Someone should wake the loser lying on the floor; a spot’s opened up.”

In agreement, the salaryman, who’s gathering himself by undoing the buttons on his soaked shirt with shaky hands, nudges Choso’s leg. His majestic, pale and sculptured chest comes into view and you think about how badly you want to feel it, to taste the sweat making his skin all dewy, and mark him yours.

Still, no one’s paying you any mind. You’re just a glorified sex doll at this point, being pushed to your limits as they get their money’s worth. The nasty squelches Satoru elicits, the gargled whimpers, and the creaking of the bed as the headboard slams against the wall are all you can hear. It’s the only sense you can focus on now that Sukuna’s effectively blinded you and you’re being touched and felt everywhere to the point where everything loses its meaning. 

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m gonna take my time so get comfortable, losers,” Satoru goads. “

Unusually tamed and mild, the dark voice of the man whose cock is gagging you into silence says, “Do whatever you want…her throat is mine…and in due course, so will every hole she has.”

“Ha! You tryna make me cum early with the anal talk, Ryomen? Cheating bastard.”

Sukuna huffs. “You can have her ass first, if you want, Fushiguro. Saves me the trouble of having to loosen her up myself. Though I doubt you’ll make much of a difference.”

Despite the insult, the scarred man only laughs and someone must pat someone’s back because you hear a slap but it doesn’t land on your skin. In tandem, they all work your body, taking what they want and giving you no reprieve. 

“Let’s not leap past her pussy just yet, gentlemen. I’ll deal with this bastard’s power trip,” Suguru promises. He, too, leaves your hand, which are both now free to claw into Sukuna and Toji’s arms, silently begging them to both slow down and to hurry up. Just as Kento was standing behind Choso, he stands behind Satoru. His lips graze the shell of his friend’s ear and he whispers, “Quit messing around…our pretty angel only likes good boys, don’t you, sweet thing?”

You can’t even answer because of the cock in your mouth. Though, you realise, in spite of the stupid cloud of pleasure suffocating you, it’s not as if he was actually looking for an answer, instead, the throb of the dick in your pussy seems to be what he needed. 

“H-hey, Suguru, no fair,” Satoru whines. “Don’t play with my nipples..fuck, I knew I never should have told you about that.” 

That you’d love to see for yourself, but unfortunately, you can only try to hold back the orgasm they’re all cruelly pulling out of you. You’re powerful against the stifling, smothering weight of Sukuna and Toji’s bodies. No way in hell could you ever hope to shake them off; you don’t want to anyway.

Thankfully, however, in your peripheral vision, you can see something just as interesting, something that has your eyes fluttering shut, and your pussy clenching hard – Choso’s up but still just as delirious as he was when he watched his cum shimmer on your body, you think. 

Kento has a hand combing through the savage mess of raven-black hair on his head, guiding him to his soft dick. Gentle, patient, and encouraging, he comments, “You’ll have to wait a couple more rounds for your turn again, Choso. In the meantime, you can taste her on my cock…would you like that?”

He nods vehemently, pigtails bouncing. Breathily, he answers, “Yeah…I want a taste.”

A wet tongue darts out and laps up the wetness coating Kento’s skin. Licking, shhlurrrping!, and sucking, Choso moans at the musky sweetness that slides down his throat. He’s kneeling, uncaring of the bruises that’ll form on his poor knees, gripping onto the firm thighs that stand before him as he steals your essence from another man’s cock. With his eyes closed, you know he’s imagining it’s your pussy he’s eating from, but no one misses when those very eyes flit open and he stares up at Kento like he’s an angel sent by you.

“No one’s gonna make a, ‘that’s gay’ joke?” 

The assassin-for-hire snorts again. “That’s rich coming from a guy whose asshole is being fingered right now.”

“Uh, actually, it’s just being rimmed. Try it sometime,” the strongest sorcerer counters. And then, like he’s rubbing it in everyone else’s face, he moans louder, thrusting so hard and fast into your pussy, everyone on the bed is jostled back and forth. 

Your nails dig harder into skin, damn near drawing blood. 

At the same time, Sukuna and Toji cum with low growls. So does Satoru, though it’s Suguru’s name on his tongue. Your stomach and your womb are stuffed full of cum. It’s burning. Suffocating. Painfully euphoric. Just as fast as they descended on you, they relieve you, allowing cool air to blanket your spawning body. You cough and pant and squirm. 

The freedom is exhilarating and upsetting and only lasts a second.

You get just three big gulps of air and then a punishing grip finds its way onto your chin, jerking your head back as a thumb pulls your jaw down. A fat thwack! of spit slithers down your sore throat, which has been properly stretched out by Sukuna’s monstrous cock. You knew who it was just by touch alone and that nasty man gives you a rare smile, which is really more of a menacing grin. 

“Just lubing you up for Fushiguro’s. Put that talented mouth to good use and make me proud, yeah? You’ll find your ass raw and red if you can’t make him cum in less than five minutes.”

“You underestimating me or is she just that good, Ryomen?”

The man replies, “Find out for yourself– watch it!”

He was shoved to the side in Choso’s hurry to taste your lips. For a second you’re grateful that Sukuna grants the offending man mercy and doesn’t escalate the situation but in the next, all your thoughts are consumed by the curse’s undignified desperation.

You can’t rely on your sight to tell you who’s who anymore. There’s too many hands on you. Instead, you let your sense of touch hum, all too familiar with the owner of the messy and sloppy kiss granting you sweet reprieve from the storm of testosterone, horniness, and muscles on steroids surrounding you. Although that doesn’t last very long either because he’s being yanked off, like a kitten, by his scruff. Toji cocks his brow. “Her mouth’s mine now, Kamo. Go suck her toes or something.”

That apparently didn’t sound like sarcasm to the curse because he crawls over to your feet and swirls his tongue around a big toe, slobbering it up good and proper for his own benefit. He humps the thigh, cock searing, all while his tongue gets in between the crevices. Everyone but you chuckles, because, despite yourself, you find it hot and endearing.

There’s now three men by your legs – Choso at your foot, and Satoru and Suguru fighting to sluurrp! up as much of the former’s cum from your pussy. Except, it feels more like Satoru’s distracting Suguru by creating a mark on his neck. And it’s actually working; there’s no rhyme or reason to his technique whilst he cleans you up for himself, only a wallowing in the taste of your tangy sweetness and Satoru’s bitter saltness. 

Another monstrously sized cock slides into your mouth and you take it in with no complaint, experienced throat expanding to impress him just as Sukuna ordered you to. A calloused thumb brushes a bead of sweat from your temple. You look up at Toji, whose furrowed brows ask an unspoken question: you okay, kid?

Your free hands grab his blessed asscheeks and shove his hips forward. You gag around his cock. That’s your answer.

“Damn…you really are good,” he grunts out. Turning to the man sitting by your head, petting your hair, he jerks his head back. “Go and try her tits, man. Ain’t nothing like it.”

Sukuna growls, “I was going to; don’t tell me what to do. Just waiting for your fat ass to get off so I can get in comfortably. It’ll look like I’m fucking you from behind otherwise.”

“You fucking wish.”

The man grouches, “Whatever. I’ll take her hand while you fuck her mouth. Try pinching her nose for a couple seconds; her throat tightens up real nice.”

Meanwhile, Kento’s big hand rubs your stomach, tenderly roaming over to your breast whilst it’s still free for use and indulging himself in the softness of the fat mounds. He’s smearing the mixed cum on your skin as if it’s lotion. It’s loving, slow, and sweet so is the kiss he presses onto your palm, which he hands over to Sukuna, whose cock is already raring to go. 

None of them look intent to end the night with just one orgasm each. You can do nothing but grip the bed sheets and keep your legs open so they can slot themselves in any gaps they can find among the crowd of men who will not relinquish control and let another take their turn. 

There’s no point in counting orgasms, in keeping score or tracking of who is where and why– they’re doing that for you. It seems like all you have to do is just let them throw you into any and all positions they want, let them mark your body up as they please, and fuck their cum back into you with not a care for the consequences of tonight’s depravity.

“Don’t go falling asleep, alright? Or do, whatever floats your boat…pretty sure we’re all in agreement we’ll fuck you anyway.” Satoru stands up, pinching your thigh to catch your attention. With other men’s cum trickling down his chin, his words simultaneously fills you with confidence and tears you down at the same time, a hysterical dread of excitement in the air. 

The men share a sadistic look before those piercing eyes fall back onto you for the millionth time this night.

“Good luck, babe!”

[brights-place]

[KPDH] ━━━ ．°˖✧ Ｍｙｓｔｅｒｙ ˚₊ ⊹ x Reader

Contains: Slightly Suggestive, Cursing, Collar, Barking, Teasing, making out, Baby just calling shit out

A/N: I WAS LISTENING TO SIR MIX ALOT OKAY! LISTEN AND I HAD A WHOLE IDEA NGL I FEEL LIKE I COULD MAKE A FULL FIC FOR THIS? but also I feel like I could make angst guys BRO I HAVE A DEVIOUS ANGST PLAN also I really hope people won't just start writing Mystery like he's just a guy who barks and all that because after this and one more writing about mystery I have an angsty idea that I'mma write whehehe!

Summary: BARK LIKE YOU WANT IT, He’s barking at fans in meet and greets if they pass a boundary like they owe him rent. He’s quiet and mysterious on stage like always and somehow Mystery Saja is your boyfriend. Sure, he barely talks, sneaks around slyly like a cat, and barks like a dog with an attitude problem… but he’s yours. Off-stage, he's all sneaky footsteps, silver hair in his eyes, and low growls when you're not paying him enough attention. So, obviously, you bought him a collar with a bell because if he’s gonna act like a dog, he might as well look the part. But here’s the thing there’s something weirdly real behind those sharp teeth and silent being keeping to himself. Something darker...Something… hidden and now that you’ve tugged the leash, you’re not sure who’s really in control. So go on. Bark like you want it

Ｍｙｓｔｅｒｙ was, well… true to his stage name. A mystery.

He didn’t talk unless he really had to, kept to himself, and always moved like he was running on empty. Quiet, reserved, and perpetually slouched after long idol schedules. It was clear the spotlight wasn’t his natural habitat. Not like Jinu, who somehow thrived in the chaos of fan service and flashing cameras even if it was all an act.

Mystery wasn’t one for acts. Not unless growling at a fan during a fan signing counted.

You watched the clip from the safety of your phone screen, eyebrows raised as he practically barked like fully barked at a fan who’d leaned just a little too close, fingers outstretched like she tried to invade hsi personal space. The way he snapped, lips curling, sharp eyes glinting beneath his silver fringe… it was less “idol charm” and more “try that again and I bite.” and god help you, it was kind of hot to see him act like that. You couldn't help but pause and side eye something in your bag you bought for your friends pet dog as a gift yet you couldn't help but snicker at an idea popping up in your head.

You were curled up in one of the hidden lounges far from the chaos of the Saja boys and their over-scheduled madness, Mystery slumped beside you on the couch.

His head dipped lazily toward your shoulder. Hair damp from a recent shower, his silver strands tickled your neck. His body was heavy tired but not enough to stop him from nuzzling into your side like a sleep-deprived stray.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to but you? Oh, you had plans for your boyfriend with a mischievous grin, you reached into your bag and pulled out a collar a sleek black collar with a delicate silver bell that jingled softly between your fingers.

You dangled it just out of his reach, eyes glittering “Mystery,” you cooed slyly his head jerked up. Slowly. Narrow-eyed. Like a cat catching movement out of the corner of its eye. His gaze flicked from the collar to your face, then back again, as if trying to figure out if you were serious or just dangerously bold.

He didn’t speak blinking and inching forward you wiggled the collar a little higher. “C’mon. You bark at fans like they owe you rent. You gonna let me tease you and get away with it?” Mystery tilted his head slightly more tense, almost curious. Almost but you weren’t fooled.

His lips parted just enough to let out the smallest, softest sound from deep in his throat. Not a word, Not quite a bark. Not quite a growl. Something in between. “Mm-mm.” You shook your head. “Not good enough.” and that’s when he lurched forward.

You squeaked as he suddenly lunged forward, not aggressively, but fast enough that your back hit the cushions behind you. He climbed into your space, straddling your hips, the weight of his body pressing you down. Silver hair fell like curtains around your faces, hiding you both from the world. His hands braced on either side of your head, and his lips were just inches from yours.

“You’re so tired,” you teased breathlessly, still clutching the collar. “Didn’t you just say you needed rest?” He didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned in, mouth grazing the curve of your neck, the tip of his nose brushing your jaw like a lazy nuzzle.

You giggled with a smile on your face as the bell jingled again, trapped between your fingers “Don’t think I won’t put this on you.” you said in-between small snorts and mystery he froze for a moment… then moved even closer. His lips brushed your ear, and his voice raspy and low spoke for the first time that night.

“Then do it.”

You blinked mouth agape as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. His fringe framed his face, making his expression unreadable except for the slight, smug curve of his mouth.

“Put it on,” he whispered. “If you’re brave enough.” Your heart slammed. The collar in your hand felt a little less like a joke and a lot more like a dare now. You swallowed slowly as you felt it how he was so quiet, calculating, and worst of all waiting.

Somewhere deep down, you remembered that Mystery wasn’t just your mysterious, slouchy boyfriend. He was a demon. A being with teeth and claws and something else hiding just behind that unreadable gaze. Still… you weren’t scared.

You slipped the collar around his neck and clicked it shut the bell jingled as you stared up at him as he didn't move. You leaned forward, lips brushing his as your finger tugged onto the collar.

“Good boy.”

And that was the moment he grabbed your hips kissing you deeply messy, tired, intense. A little desperate. A little smug. Like someone who’d been holding back just enough to let you think you had control, only to steal it all back with a single kiss.

The bell jingled again as your fingers curled into Mystery’s shoulders. You kissed him back, slow and soft, eyes fluttered shut completely unaware of the way that tiny bell kept chiming with every movement. Lost in the moment, you didn’t even register the cool brush of something leathery sliding around your neck. You felt it kind of but waved it off as nothing, too busy melting into him.

A smile tugged at your lips mid-kiss, only for it to drop the second you heard the unmistakable click of the apartment door unlocking.

“We’re back!” Jinu’s voice rang out, loud like always Your eyes flew open. Panic shot down your spine. You turned toward the door just as Mystery leaned in again, deepening the kiss very much not helping. His lips moved with slow, deliberate dominance, smug in every motion as you frantically tried to push him off.

“Mystery-!” you hissed into the kiss, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he smirked against your mouth, like this was all just another casual Tuesday, before finally pulling away smooth and unbothered, standing tall like he hadn’t just tried to make out with you in full view of the incoming chaos.

Your face burned. You side-eyed him, flustered, breath caught in your throat only to realize something was off. The collar... It was gone. You blinked. Tilted your head slightly, trying to find it only to freeze when the soft chime of a bell echoed again but not from him.

From you

You froze as your hand slowly reached up and felt the firm press of leather and cold metal against your neck. The bell jingled again as your fingers touched it.

You could feel the heat rush up your neck as you sat there, stunned, just in time for Baby to plop down beside you on the couch. He blinked lazily at the collar, lips curled around a lollipop, then reached out and flicked the bell with one finger as it chimed. His expression unreadable, but his eyes sparkling with silent laughter.

Mystery? He didn’t even look your way. Just stared forward like he’d ascended to a higher plane of peace. Baby smirked wider, unbothered, pulling away just as Romance, Abby, and Jinu entered the room in a cluster of conversation and snacks.

Romance caught sight of you first. Stifled a laugh behind his hand. Abby’s eyes widened. And Jinu? He blinked. Paused. "A collar with a bell?" he repeated, eyebrow arching, gaze sliding toward Mystery. Mystery shrugged casual, chill, innocent. The picture of saying “Who, me?” even though he didn't even need to say anything.

You dropped your face into your hands, groaning in pure shame. “Oh my god,” you mumbled. Baby popped his lollipop from his mouth just long enough to say, “Didn’t know we were into pet play now.”

You considered evaporating on the spot

۶ৎ ⌗ 𝐊-𝐏𝐎𝐏 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⸝⸝

[dksfml]

off my face - yjw

pairing: jungwon x reader genre: soulmate au, mega FLUFF word count: 6.6k summary: in a world where each person has a soulmate mark indicating where they will be touched by their soulmate for the first time, there’s jungwon—the soccer team captain you’d like to be ruined by forever—who has no soulmate mark at all. what does that make you, someone whose mark has changed color because of him? author's note: finally!! here's your most awaited blond jungwon fic that i skipped sleep for<3333 inspired by this amazing prompt my friend sent me.

One touch and you got me stoned. Higher than I've ever known. You call the shots and I follow. Sunrise, but the night still young. No words, but we speak in tongues. If you let me, I might say too much.

You sat near the front row, posture perfect, eyes narrowed as Professor Min’s lecture on ancient mythology took a surprising turn. Today’s topic wasn’t just history—it was soulmate lore, the mysterious marks everyone was born with, and the myths that surrounded them. The professor’s calm, seasoned voice filled the room, but the air buzzed with barely contained excitement. Everyone was alert, even the usual back-row whisperers, captivated by the promise of something rare: a sanctioned discussion about their most private marks.

“These soulmate marks,” Professor Min began, his gaze sweeping the room with a faint smile, “are said to be the final traces of a bond forged in a past life. Legends tell us that in each lifetime, we may be separated from our soulmates, lost to distance or circumstance. But the marks,” he gestured to his own faintly darkened palm, “are said to be the soul’s way of leaving a trail—a reminder.”

A murmur rippled through the room. Everyone had a mark, a small patch of inky darkness, as distinct as fingerprints, mapped out on their bodies. Some had them on their palms or fingertips, waiting for the day a handshake or brush of fingers would light up that mark with color. Others had them in more curious places, whispering of fated touches in the most unlikely moments.

"The legend says," Professor Min continued, "that these marks were painted by one’s soulmate in a past life, a vow made in hopes to meet again, to find each other across time."

You clenched your pen a little tighter, the faint tickle of wonder battling the urge to keep your expression blank and unfeeling. You’d always kept your interest in soulmate marks private. They seemed so full of mystery, and the idea of your soulmate waiting for you somewhere was oddly… reassuring. You glanced down, conscious of the mark behind your knee, hidden like a strange secret that even you could barely understand. What kind of first touch would even reach there? The thought was both amusing and baffling, and you stifled a wry smile.

Around you, other students leaned in to chat, loud enough that their conversations blended into a steady hum. Your classmate Arin nudged her friend, laughing as she displayed the faint mark on her palm. “I’ve been dying to know who’ll shake my hand one day,” she whispered excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope.

But your gaze drifted just beyond Arin, landing instead on a familiar figure lounging in the middle row with his legs stretched out, looking every bit like he was born to disrupt things without lifting a finger. Jungwon. Handsome in a way that seemed almost unfair, with striking, dark eyes framed by lashes that cast subtle shadows on his cheeks, and hair the color of midnight that fell in soft, tousled waves. He had this effortless, magnetic presence that drew people toward him, like he knew he didn’t need to try.

As captain of the soccer team and one of the most well-known faces on campus, Jungwon somehow managed to look both sharp and relaxed, as if the attention his looks or reputation brought him meant nothing. You’d been crushing on him since last year, an avid fan always present at his games, cheering him on like a lovesick fool. Whenever he scored a goal, you felt your heart leap, and you couldn’t help but unleash your inner fangirl, your excitement spilling over as you screamed his name. Right now, he seemed half-listening to his friends, a hint of a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, eyes drifting up to the ceiling before refocusing on his friends. It was that easygoing confidence that made him impossible not to notice—and, for you, impossible not to think about.

It was a boy from his friend group, Jay, who interrupted the class chatter by slapping a hand down on the table and teasing, “Come on, Won. You don’t have a soulmate mark, my foot. No one gets off that easy.” The comment was light-hearted but loaded, and more than a few students turned to look.

To your surprise, Jungwon didn’t react with one of his usual witty comebacks or careless shrugs. Instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of something almost vulnerable flashing across his face. “No, really,” he insisted, almost apologetically. “I don’t have one. I checked a million times as a kid.”

Your pen paused mid-note, and a slight, irrational disappointment prickled in your chest. It was hard to believe, especially about someone like Jungwon, whose very presence seemed destined to leave a mark on others. Soulmate marks might be rare, but someone like him not having one? It felt impossible, like a missing piece that no one noticed until it was too late.

For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe he just hadn’t found it yet. After all, some people only discovered their mark when it finally turned to color. Sometimes it wasn’t a visible spot on the skin but something far subtler—a shadow in the hue of their lips that would only brighten after a first kiss, or a darkness lingering in an eye, invisible until the gentle touch of someone wiping away their tears brought it to life. The thought sent a strange warmth to your cheeks as you glanced back toward him, wondering if Jungwon’s missing mark was just waiting for the right person to unlock it.

Still, he looked surprisingly honest, a faint hint of sadness clouding his otherwise bright gaze. For someone so magnetic, it was as if he was caught drifting in space, without any tether connecting him to anyone at all.

“Alright, alright,” Jay relented, raising his hands in surrender but laughing all the same. “Guess someone’s too cool to be fated to anyone, huh?”

The professor’s voice cut back in, and you forced yourself to refocus, though your mind lingered on Jungwon’s quiet expression and the flicker of something in his eyes, something both resigned and deeply private. Could he really be alone in a world where everyone else was bound to someone?

“Imagine having your mark on your knuckles,” Arin whispered beside you with a grin, oblivious to the moment that had just passed. “You’d probably knock your soulmate out before you even realized they were ‘the one’!”

Another round of laughter scattered through the room, like a shared inside joke. The air felt charged, as if everyone were suddenly curious about each other’s marks, glancing around with new eyes. You let out a small sigh, tapping your pen against your notebook with a faint smile. As much as you tried to keep up the class president, model-student act, the idea of soulmates fascinated you in a way you’d never quite admit.

When the bell finally rang, the room filled with that familiar end-of-class chaos. You started packing up, keeping your head down—until you noticed Jungwon slinging his bag over his shoulder, looking effortlessly put-together, as usual. He laughed at something his friend said, his expression relaxed, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. But you couldn’t help catching the faintest flicker of something else in his gaze as he glanced at his friends—like a momentary, unguarded look that felt… wistful?

Okay, maybe that was just you being overly imaginative.

You let out a little huff as you slung your own bag over your shoulder, shaking off the strange pity you’d felt moments before. So what if Jungwon didn’t have a mark? You barely even knew him. Well, you kind of knew him, but from a distance—and with way more daydreams than you’d like to admit. Still, it was silly to wonder about him, right? With your head full of these thoughts, you walked out into the hallway, lost in a world where maybe, just maybe, he was wondering about you, too.

And as you brushed past a group of friends, laughing and shoving each other, your hand slipped over the back of your knee, where your own mark was hidden—quiet, waiting, and as mysterious as ever.

The sky was an endless blue, stretching wide over the school field as your class spilled out onto the grass for PE. With the teacher conveniently on vacation, today’s instructions were simple: enjoy the free time. Most of your classmates took to the field, breaking off into little clusters for a lazy game of soccer, light stretches, or simple gossip sessions by the bleachers.

As class president, you took it upon yourself to ensure no one went too far or caused trouble. Your duty, as you saw it, was to survey your classmates from a slight distance, keeping an eye out with the calm, serious gaze you’d carefully perfected. Yet even from the sidelines, your eyes found themselves drifting toward a familiar figure on the field, drawn to him like magnets.

Jungwon was at the center of the field with his friends, casual and relaxed, but his every move carried an elegance that made your pulse skip. He was laughing at something his friend said, his eyes crinkling as he kicked the soccer ball back and forth, the glint of a confident smirk tugging at his lips. His ease on the field was mesmerizing, a mixture of strength and grace that made it hard to look away.

You reminded yourself to focus, scanning the field to check on the other groups. But before you could pull your attention back entirely, a voice called out, and you saw Jungwon pivot to chase the soccer ball—only for it to ricochet off his foot, headed directly toward you with alarming speed.

In the split second it took you to react, you felt a sharp thud against the back of your knees. The impact sent you stumbling forward, knees buckling beneath you as you tumbled to the ground. Pain flared up where the ball had struck, but it was drowned out by the shock of it all.

“Oh no—are you okay?” Jungwon’s voice was breathless with concern, his steps hurried as he reached you. You barely had a chance to process his arrival before he knelt beside you, face flushed and clearly panicked. His hand hovered awkwardly as if afraid to touch you, his usual calm replaced with something far more vulnerable.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— Are you hurt?” he stammered, his voice unusually soft. He reached out gently, his hands carefully brushing against your arm as he tried to help you up. “Can you stand?”

Your mind struggled to catch up to the moment, and it took everything you had to keep your stoic demeanor intact. Jungwon was close, closer than he’d ever been, and the intensity of his worried gaze was unexpectedly disarming. Even as pain pulsed through your knee, you couldn’t help but stare, captivated by how intensely he focused on you, as if everything else in the world had fallen away.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. But as soon as you tried to stand, pain shot up your leg.

Jungwon’s expression shifted to one of determination, and before you could protest, he slid one arm under your knees and lifted you up, his other arm around your shoulders. The world tilted as he held you in a firm, steady grip, his face barely inches from yours. “We’re getting you to the nurse. No arguments.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned by his closeness, by the warmth radiating from him. “Oh—okay.” The words left your mouth almost on instinct, your brain still catching up with the fact that Jungwon was carrying you, his focus set entirely on you. His hands brushed your arm as he adjusted his grip, and you felt a strange warmth bloom under your skin, something unfamiliar and electric.

The walk to the nurse’s office was quiet, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze flickered to you, the gentleness in his expression as he murmured, “Sorry again. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt the class president.”

Your lips parted, searching for something to say, but the way he looked at you—soft, maybe even a bit shy—left you wordless. All you could do was nod, your heart pounding louder with each step as you held onto the feeling of his arms around you, wondering if he could hear it too.

It wasn’t until you glanced down that you noticed it—a faint shift of color beneath your knee where the ball had struck. The mark, once hidden and dark, now radiated a subtle but unmistakable bright yellow hue, soft and warm against your skin.

You froze, eyes wide, as the realization settled in. Jungwon was still mumbling apologies, unaware of the discovery you’d just made. Only he could have caused the mark to change; he was the only one who had touched that spot. The idea left you breathless, your mind scrambling to make sense of it all.

In the clinic, the nurse examined your knee with a quick, professional assessment. “You’ll be fine,” she declared, sending you off with an ice pack and a faint smile. But your thoughts were still racing, tangled up in the startling realization that Jungwon might actually be your soulmate.

The whole walk back to class, you replayed the moment in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Maybe it was a coincidence. Perhaps someone had brushed the back of your knee at some other time, and you simply hadn’t noticed. But deep down, you knew the truth—the mark had only changed when Jungwon touched you.

And when you returned to class, he was there, hovering near the door with a worried frown. He looked up as you approached, eyes bright with relief.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a slight smile breaking through the concern etched into his features. “I was worried about you.”

Your heart skipped as you nodded, doing your best to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken up, that’s all.” You felt the weight of the new secret pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to smile.

Jungwon’s shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in that effortlessly charming way of his. “I’m glad. I’ll be more careful with my aim next time.”

You smiled back, feeling the weight of the mark’s new color, of the quiet truth only you knew. As Jungwon returned to his seat, your gaze drifted to the back of your knee, where the mark lay hidden under the fabric of your clothes, now touched by color—by him.

In the days following the incident on the field, the world seemed to shift around you, humming with an energy you couldn’t quite shake. The back of your knee, where Jungwon’s touch had changed your soulmate mark to a soft, distinct yellow color, was a constant reminder of the possibility that your crush—Jungwon, the ever-handsome and kind soccer captain—might be something even more significant than you’d ever dared to imagine.

“How’s your knee?” he asked, his voice warm and tinged with that familiar gentleness that made your heart stutter.

“Oh, it’s fine, really!” You waved it off, attempting to tuck your leg further under your desk, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint new color to the mark that still lingered behind your knee.

Jungwon didn’t seem to buy it. “Are you sure?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned down, intent on seeing for himself. Before he could get a closer look, you tugged your skirt down a little farther, hiding the mark as best as you could.

“I’m sure, really,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone casual. “It’s just a little sore, nothing to worry about.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you, unreadable. Then he nodded, standing up with a quiet, sheepish smile. “Alright. I’ll trust you, but only if you promise to let me know if it starts hurting again.”

You managed a nod, clutching your books a little tighter to keep your hands steady. “I promise,” you said, hoping he didn’t notice the flicker of nerves in your eyes.

Your third shared class of the week was English, and just as the teacher assigned the day’s group work, the class began to shift into pairs. Coincidentally (or so you told yourself), the seating arrangement placed Jungwon near you that day.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. He offered you one of his signature, heart-stopping smiles. “Mind if we pair up? I mean…if you’re okay with it.”

With an effort to keep your expression neutral, you nodded. “Sure,” you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was anything but.

Settling at a table near the window, you both pulled out your notebooks. The task was straightforward—analyzing a poem about soulmates. You caught a breath at the irony, and Jungwon, seemingly unfazed, began reading the passage aloud. His voice, low and calm, wove through the words as you listened, though your mind kept wandering to his every movement, the way his eyes flickered thoughtfully over the page, how his fingers held the pencil lightly but with intention.

“What do you think?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, willing your focus back to the assignment. “I think…well, it’s romantic. But it’s also kind of tragic, right? There’s always this sense of waiting—like, what if they don’t meet?”

Jungwon’s gaze flickered up, lingering on your face a little longer than necessary. “Yeah, that’s true,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful. “The idea that you’re waiting your whole life for just one person…it’s a lot of pressure.”

He paused, eyes settling on you, as if searching for something beneath the calm exterior you held so tightly. “Do you… believe in it? Soulmates, I mean?”

Caught off guard, you looked down, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of your notebook. You thought of your parents, of their own lovely story about finding each other through their marks, and how you’d grown up with those tales of destiny. And now, here you were, sitting with the very boy who might be your own fated match.

“I think,” you began slowly, “that I want to believe in it. My parents…they have one of those classic stories. It’s hard not to believe in soulmates when you’ve heard stories like that all your life.”

He nodded, listening intently. “I get that. I guess…sometimes I wonder what it would be like. But it’s hard to picture when you don’t…you know, have any marks yourself.”

The quiet sadness in his tone took you by surprise. You’d never considered what it might be like to go through life without a soulmate mark, to feel like something intrinsic was missing, a feeling that destiny had passed you by. Suddenly, your thoughts flickered back to the legends the elders told—how markless people were said to carry the weight of unrequited love from a past life, doomed to wander without a soulmate to mark them in this one. The idea hung heavy in the air, mingling with your sympathy for him.

“Maybe it doesn’t matter, then,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “Maybe people without marks find their person too, in other ways.” You couldn’t help but think that perhaps Jungwon was one of those souls, burdened by a love that never came to fruition.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Jungwon seemed lost in thought, his gaze drifting out the window as he considered your words. And just then, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, knowing that even if he was unaware of it, you shared a connection that went beyond what either of you could see.

“Maybe,” he said finally, and then he flashed you a lopsided grin. “Well, even if soulmates are real, maybe it’s a good thing I’m mark-free. I don’t think I’d want someone to find out I was their soulmate because I hit them with a soccer ball.”

His laughter rang out, and you couldn’t help but join him, but beneath the mirth, your heart clenched. You wanted to tell him everything—to reveal the secret that could bridge the chasm between you. But as the words formed on your lips, fear gripped you. What if you were wrong? What if he truly didn’t have a soulmate mark, and this moment of connection was just a fleeting illusion?

So you swallowed hard, plastering a smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, let’s just keep that between us, then,” you replied, hoping to mask the anxiety swirling inside you.

Inside, the truth weighed heavy, a secret that felt more like a burden than a bond. Keeping it hidden seemed safer, easier—even if it left you feeling like a ghost, drifting alongside him but never truly reaching out. The thought of him being one of those markless souls—the ones who carried the pain of a love never realized—made you ache. You didn’t want him to feel that emptiness, and yet, here you were, hiding a truth that might shatter the fragile connection you shared.

Perhaps it was better this way. Better to hold onto your heartache in silence than risk shattering the bond you had built, no matter how tenuous it felt. As you returned to the assignment, the bittersweet taste of longing lingered on your tongue, mixing with the thrill of possibility, leaving you torn between the hope of what could be and the fear of what might never come to pass.

Finally, during your biology class, your teacher assigned a laboratory cleaning rotation. By the luck of the draw—or maybe a twist of fate—you found yourself paired with Jungwon. It was supposed to be a simple task, but as the two of you gathered supplies and began tidying up the classroom after hours, you felt the weight of every quiet moment.

Jungwon appeared beside you as you straightened a stack of textbooks, arms full of markers and erasers. His casual, laid-back attitude only heightened the quiet thrill that being near him sparked in you. As he handed you an eraser, your fingers brushed slightly, and you pulled back quickly, heart racing.

"Are you always this… serious?" Jungwon teased, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I mean, you don’t have to look like we’re cleaning the whole school."

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “It’s just how I work. I take tasks seriously.”

He nodded, still smiling. “You’re impressive, you know. It’s like…you’re always so composed, like nothing rattles you.”

Caught off guard by his observation, you froze momentarily, not sure how to respond. Behind your serious exterior, you were anything but composed—especially around him. Before you could answer, he turned away to tidy the bookshelves, leaving you wondering if he’d picked up on the effect he had on you.

After a while, Jungwon returned to the task at hand, dusting off a few of the windowsills. It was quiet for a few minutes, the sounds of your combined effort filling the room. You both worked in sync, a silent rhythm that had developed without either of you realizing it. And then, with an abruptness that caught you off guard, he spoke again.

“Hey,” he said, hesitating. “I know this might be a weird question, but… where’s your soulmate mark?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren’t ready to unravel. Your heart thudded as you carefully set down the books you’d been holding, gathering your thoughts.

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks. "Um, it's… it's on my knee," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment made you shy, and you instinctively shifted your weight, the hem of your skirt falling to cover your knee even more.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “Oh? Is it… already in color?”

You hesitated for a brief moment, weighing your words. “Uh, yeah,” you replied, biting your lip. “It changed a while ago. But it’s not a big deal.” You left out the part about him possibly being your soulmate, feeling the weight of that truth settle heavily in the air between you.

His expression shifted slightly, disappointment flashing across his features before he masked it with a casual smile. “That’s cool,” he said, his voice a bit quieter now. “I guess… it must be nice to have that certainty.”

“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep the mood light despite the sudden heaviness in your chest. “I mean, it’s comforting, I suppose.”

But beneath your words, a sense of longing stirred. You noticed how his gaze faltered for a moment, and it struck you then how much he had hoped for something different. He had seemed eager, maybe even hopeful, and the realization stung a little.

Jungwon cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over you both. “So, um… did you see the last soccer game?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I think we really need to work on our defense.”

His attempt at lightheartedness felt slightly forced, and you could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Still, it was nice to see him trying to shake off the heaviness from moments before.

“Yeah, I caught a bit of it,” you replied, grateful for the shift in focus. “You guys played well, though a couple of those goals were pretty close calls.”

He chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah, I think I almost gave our coach a heart attack with that last-minute save,” he said, grinning. It was an infectious smile, and you found yourself smiling back despite the weight still resting in the back of your mind.

The annual school festival arrived faster than expected, and the campus buzzed with activity and excitement. Classrooms were transformed into themed booths, hallways were draped with handmade decorations, and students wore colorful festival shirts and badges, their faces bright with paint and laughter. You found yourself stationed at the face-painting booth, brush in hand, ready to tackle the endless line of eager students.

You’d always enjoyed events like these—participating in the festival offered you a rare chance to relax and feel connected to your classmates outside of the usual seriousness you maintained as class president. Here, you were just another student, painting stars, hearts, and stripes on familiar faces.

“Hey, what’s up? Need a painter?” your friend Taeyoung called out to the next group approaching your booth. You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip when you recognized Jungwon and his friends heading your way, laughing and jostling each other. He wore a loose festival shirt with sleeves rolled up, a casual look that somehow made him even more handsome. You quickly glanced down, suddenly hyper-aware of your paintbrushes and the paper towels you clutched a little too tightly.

The booth was busy, and with most of your fellow painters occupied, it didn’t take long for Taeyoung to pair Jungwon with you. “Hey, Y/N, looks like you’ve got a VIP customer! Captain Jungwon wants to be a canvas today,” he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he nudged Jungwon playfully.

Jungwon chuckled, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—an eagerness mixed with a hint of shyness. “Yeah, I guess I’m in your hands now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “No pressure, right?”

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as your heart raced. “Uh, right! No pressure at all,” you replied, your voice a little too bright. “What do you have in mind?”

You forced yourself to meet Jungwon’s eyes, fighting back the nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. “So… what would you like?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jungwon’s usual confident smile softened a little, and he seemed slightly hesitant, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach flutter. “Maybe a couple of stars on my cheeks? And… maybe a small cat on my forehead?”

You stifled a laugh at his request, realizing that behind his composed demeanor, he had a playful side you hadn’t seen before. “A star and a cat. Got it,” you whispered, dipping your brush into white paint. You reached out carefully to steady his face, tilting it slightly toward the light. Your fingers lightly touched his cheek, and you couldn’t ignore the spark that jolted through you at the contact.

Jungwon closed his eyes briefly, letting out a small breath. You tried to ignore the slight flush you felt creeping up your neck, focusing on drawing a perfect star on his left cheek. You painted in silence, but every so often, he’d open his eyes and glance at you, making your heart race each time.

With one cheek finished, you moved to the other side. He leaned in closer, giving you the perfect angle. The space between you seemed to shrink with every second, the sounds of the bustling festival fading into a distant hum. You were hyper-aware of everything—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from him, and how your fingers gently brushed his skin. When you finished with the stars, you pulled back slightly to look at your work, meeting his gaze as you did.

“They look good,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

You swallowed, breaking eye contact to reach for a new brush and dip it in black paint. “Now for the cat,” you said, trying to stay calm. “Hold still.”

You carefully moved to part his hair at the center of his forehead. As your fingers brushed through his bangs, you froze, your eyes widening as you saw something strange—a small patch of his dark hair was shifting, lightening to a soft honey-blonde under your touch.

“Um… Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you stared at the transformed lock of hair falling against his forehead. “Your hair…”

“What about it?” He turned to you with a hint of confusion, glancing up as if trying to catch a glimpse of the change. “Did I mess it up?”

You shook your head, the words tangling in your throat as disbelief washed over you. “It’s… it’s changing color.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, then brushed his fingers through the area you’d touched. His movements stilled, the warmth in his expression fading, replaced by something deeper—something unreadable. The air thickened around you, a heavy silence filled with unspoken questions.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decode the truth hidden beneath your surprise.

You nodded slowly, your heart racing. “Yeah, I… I thought it was just the paint at first, but… it’s definitely not.”

The realization hung in the air, electric and palpable, igniting a spark of tension that sent shivers down your spine. Jungwon’s fingers gently traced the newly lightened strands of hair, his expression a mix of wonder and trepidation. You could feel your pulse quicken, an exhilarating rush flooding through you as you grasped the meaning behind this strange phenomenon.

Time seemed to stretch in that moment, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in your chest. Here he was, the boy you’d admired from afar, unexpectedly transformed before your eyes. Jungwon—the one who had unwittingly painted your world in vibrant colors, now literally changing right in front of you.

Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over you like a cold wave. You averted your gaze, stepping back instinctively. “I—I should go finish with the others. They’re probably waiting for me…” Your voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

Before you could dwell on it, a paint container wobbled on the edge of the table, knocking into your elbow. In your panic, you stumbled, sending brushes and colors sprawling over yourself. “Oh no!” you yelped, scrambling to clean up the mess.

“Y/N, wait!” Jungwon exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He stepped closer, his hand closing around yours, halting your frantic movements. “Stop. Just breathe.”

His grip was steadying, grounding you amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. “Let’s find somewhere quiet, okay? You need to clean up.” His voice held a calmness that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you.

You felt a rush of warmth at his concern, but your mind spun with confusion. “But… the booth—”

“Trust me,” he said, his gaze unwavering, a silent promise passing between you. “Just for a moment. Let’s talk.”

With a nod, you allowed him to guide you away from the festival’s noise, your heart racing not just from the moment, but from the undeniable connection building between you. The thrill of discovery was tempered by the anxiety of what it all meant, and yet, in Jungwon’s presence, you felt something shift—something new and exciting, just waiting to be explored.

He led you through a quieter section of the campus, where the walls were lined with colorful murals painted by students, the air filled with the faint scent of paint and creativity. The laughter and chatter from the festival faded into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves overhead and the distant sound of music drifting from the booths.

As you turned a corner, Jungwon paused, the air around you suddenly thick with anticipation. He glanced around, ensuring you were alone, then leaned against the cool brick wall, his posture relaxed yet focused. His gaze locked onto yours, intensity radiating from him. “My hair… it’s slowly turning blond. Isn’t this what soulmate marks are supposed to be like?”

His words hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. You felt the weight of the moment press down, your heart racing like a wild drum in your chest. “Right… your soulmate mark,” you stammered, the tremor in your voice betraying the chaos inside. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought it might just be a coincidence, but now… it's all starting to make sense.”

Jungwon stepped closer, the seriousness in his expression deepening. “You mean you knew?” His voice was low, the edge of urgency evident. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The air crackled with tension, and you felt your pulse quicken. “I didn’t know it was you! I thought—” you cut yourself off, frustration bubbling within you. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward. You’ve been my crush longer than you’ve been a friend. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep things from being awkward with you, especially when my mark changed?”

Jungwon’s expression shifted, vulnerability breaking through his confidence. “Your mark... is it.… when did it change? Am I—was it before… or after we met?” His voice was tight, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

You took a deep breath, feeling the memories rush back. “The day you carried me to the nurse’s office, you idiot.”

He blinked, taken aback by your response. “Wait… that day? But I thought...”

His expression softened slightly, the intensity in his eyes shifting as he took a step closer. You held your breath as he knelt down, his fingers hovering over your soulmate mark. The moment felt electric, a mix of vulnerability and anticipation coursing through you.

“Can I…?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, giving him permission to touch it. As his fingers brushed against your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. Jungwon chuckled softly, the sound breaking some of the tension between you. “Can you believe this? It feels just like yesterday when I accidentally hit my crush with a soccer ball at her knees,” he said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “The same crush I’ve wanted to approach since 10th grade but was always too afraid to mess up, especially with how she glares at boys.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the image of a younger Jungwon fumbling with his words as he tried to impress you suddenly vivid in your mind. “I didn’t mean to scare you off,” you admitted, your heart swelling with warmth. “I thought you were just… confident, you know?”

He shrugged, a hint of shyness creeping back into his demeanor. “I try to be. But it’s hard when you’re crushing on someone who’s out of your league.”

“Out of my league?” you repeated, incredulous. “Jungwon, you’re the captain of the soccer team! Everyone looks up to you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous around you,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours, sincerity pouring from his words. “It’s different with you. You make me want to be better.”

The air between you thickened with unspoken emotions, each heartbeat echoing the connection that had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged. You both stood on the edge of something monumental, the laughter of the festival fading away, leaving only the two of you and the promise of what lay ahead.

The next day, Jungwon strolled confidently down the hallway, his head of hair transformed into a stunning honeyed blonde that turned heads with every step. The shift was striking—bold, noticeable, and oddly fitting—making it seem as though he had always intended to embrace this change. Whispers and awestruck glances followed him like a gentle wave, yet beneath that cool exterior, you could see the spark of mischief in his eyes, especially when they met yours.

“Wow, he really went all out,” Arin murmured beside you, her voice a mix of surprise and admiration. “He must’ve bleached the whole thing. I didn’t think Jungwon had that in him.”

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure while your heart raced. “Yeah… surprising, isn’t it?” you replied, though a smile betrayed your nonchalance as you watched him navigate the crowd like he owned the place.

Unaware of the true significance of his transformation, your classmates continued their commentary. “Looks good on him, though,” one girl remarked, her tone infused with genuine admiration. “Like he was meant to have it all along.”

Jungwon seemed completely unfazed by the attention, wearing his new look with a blend of pride and ease, as if his blonde hair was a badge of honor that only you understood. It was a mark that connected the two of you in ways that no one else could fathom—an intimate secret wrapped in boldness.

As the hallway thinned out, he lingered by his locker, his casual demeanor slipping just a bit as he caught your gaze from across the hall. He lifted a hand, brushing back his hair with an effortless charm that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach—a subtle nod to the secret you shared.

You walked over, your heart pounding just a little faster than usual. “It suits you,” you said, keeping your voice low, the air between you thick with unspoken words.

His eyes softened, gratitude shimmering in their depths. “Good to know,” he murmured, his tone low but filled with warmth. “After all, it’s your fault it looks this good.”

A faint blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and before you could respond, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice even more as he added, “And don’t worry. The secret’s safe.”

In that crowded hallway, with laughter and footsteps echoing around you, it felt like you and Jungwon were enveloped in your own little world. His blonde hair, like a silent vow, was a reminder of what only the two of you understood: a hidden connection, pulsing with promise and anticipation, waiting to be explored.