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#Against Men and Fish
johnvelaoras · 2 days
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Revels Fishery Open 11th June 2024
Revels Fishery – Open – 11th June 2024 https://ift.tt/QzH9msj There had been some brilliant silvers weights on Woodlanders, Canal and Main last week so I booked a day off work, met PTP for breakfast and then headed to Revels. We arrived early and as the usual reprobates, miscreants and rogues arrived, the banter was in full flow as always. Draw time arrived and I ... Source
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assiraphales · 10 months
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one of the funniest things is during all nine episodes luffy did not actively have one single plan except "become the worlds greatest pirate and find the one piece". he spent at max a month? less? at sea and everything he accomplished (taking down FOUR feared pirates in like a week, stealing the grand line map, finding a faithful and loyal crew, getting a bounty of 30 million on his head, etc) was mostly by accident. he stumbles into trouble and then proceeds to become the trouble
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hollowslantern · 5 months
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do you two need some privacy?
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lifesver · 9 months
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when given the chance to freely talk smack on mic in game lobbies men are so funny they just talk about how they’re gonna fuck each other. you’re gonna bend someone over? are you gonna kiss also?
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deadboyswalking · 7 months
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I know One Piece fandom gets called a cult and the show/manga is constantly called overrated by people who haven't seen it (including me in the past)... but it is genuinely that good. I'm so glad I gave it a shot.
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desperatepleasures · 1 year
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it's cause you're always standing in front of that damn map
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katyspersonal · 2 years
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Random headcanon!
An Amygdala at the entrance in Yahar'gul Chapel grew from a celestial larvae Micolash took from Choir upon leaving. It came from him experimenting with provoking divine impregnation without waiting for Great Ones to decide to 'bless' mortals, and he bribed a woman in the Choir whose infertility the holy blood could not heal into having 'her only chance' to experience such thing. Thus she was his willing test subject, and since then Choir uses the method without credit - but 'credit to the original artist' jokes aside Micolash just wanted secrecy, and demanded that she spreads without telling who really discovered it. She bitterly agreed despite the pain of parting with the baby, but still promised to find and strangle him if anything bad happens with this particular celestial larvae.
He was feeding it human blood and some flesh until it became 'sinful' enough to fall into an Amygdala (like how a demon is a fallen angel). But since it was attached to Micolash as a caretaker, it would never be hostile to him, whereas by default Amygdalas use mortals for their evil goals. But this Amygdala helped to create a communication between mortals and older and bigger Amygdalas, as they'd be motivated to listen to the person one of their kind favored. Thus, Micolash was able to bring Yahar'gul's residents back the deities their ancestors worshipped, and organize the system in which Amygdalas offer help and knowledge in exchange to sacrifices. Yahar'gul was "thriving" if you can really call it this way ahaha
Even much later this specific Amygdala kept bringing people wandering in to Micolash in his Nightmare (through Lecture Hall), although by now the ways got more tangled and Patches more or less manipulated things so people find HIS Amygdala instead of getting into Micolash's arms, but Mico's "baby" is still by his side
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WELCOME TO ANOTHER EPISODE OF: LYNEY NOT ONLY REMEMBERED THAT HE DRAWS, BUT ALSO THAT THEY CAN POST THESE DRAWINGS
TONIGHT’S (or I guess this morning’s) INSTALMENT: MONSTERFUCKING THE MONSTER FISH
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Please don’t comment on the anatomy I’ll cry I haven’t been able to make myself draw for a little bit and this is my breakthrough please be nice I am just a little guy (ignore the fishman thirst trap pictured above I am just a little guy)
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nanaslutt · 8 months
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Can we get a part 2 of when reader asks satoru and suguru if they fucked before
of course ml!! tysm for asking <3
part 1 here~
contains: fem reader, fluff, crack, choking, hair pulling, anal sex (gojo gets fucked) spanking (geto spanks gojo once), dirty talk, overstimulation, dacryphilia if you squint, dare i say sub satoru, sub/dom dynamics if you squint, suguru and reader are competitive, u tag team gojo together
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
“so, when we’re you guys gonna tell me you’ve fucked before?” you asked, raising your eyebrows
gojo froze in place, pausing his efforts to get a towel to clean you up, he slowly turns to you, faux innocence on his stupidly pretty face, a big hand coming to rub the back of his neck
both you and geto stare at him, a smirk plastered on sugurus handsome features, heavy hand holding up his head, awaiting his response,
“now what on earth put that idea in your pretty little head?” he questions, hand falling on his hip sassily as he does an absolutely awful job lying
“oh i don’t knoww,” you drawl, pretending to think, “maybe geto telling you he was going to fuck you like it was the most normal thing in the world,” you scrunched your nose, shrugging
“but what do i know!” your eyebrows raised, suppressing a smile,
“nothing, you know nothing,” he replied, wiggling his finger back and forth in front of him like a child
“don’t tell me you forgot satoru, you might hurt my feelings.” geto teased, from his place between your calves, tilting his head to the side, “i know we were a little tipsy, but you told me i was an unforgettable fuck.” he pouted, faking offense, “you weren’t lying to me were you?”
satoru’s hand still on his hip like the sassy man he was, his mouth just flopping open and closing like a fish out of water, trying to think of a quick retort but failing to come up with anything, because the raven haired man was right
he was a truly unforgettable fuck
“now my feelings are hurt, he didn’t say I was an unforgettable fuck..” you pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest,
“your mouth almost sucked the soul out of me,” he echoed from the hall
he had taken the opportunity of getos attention on you while he was ‘consoling’ you to slip out of the room, walking back in with a few damp towels, “course you’re an unforgettable fuck, way more than that monkey brained freak,” he hisses at geto, sitting next to you on the bed, using the warm towel to wipe his cum from your cheeks,
“oh? really?” geto let his head fall from his hand, landing against your knee, squinting his eyes at satoru while the blonde continued cleaning down your body, wiping up any fluids the two men had left
“think i remember making you cum..how many times was it again? 4? you were shooting blanks before i was even done with you” he smiles, rubbing your knee fondly with his strong hand while staring at gojo challengingly,
gojo looks away from your breasts, staring back into geto’s deep brown eyes,
“n they only made you cum once..” suguru mumbles into your knee,
“woah! woah, okay, I didn’t know i was competing with you in the first place!” you defend yourself, front half of your body shooting up, making gojo sigh as you accidentally knocked his hand back, “‘s not about quantity anyways, it’s about quality” you said smugly,
“n toru here, said I almost made him die so id say my quality is michelin star,” you proclaimed, narrowing your eyes at him before gojo pushed ur torso back down,
“i’m surrounded by a buncha babies jesus christ,” gojo shakes his head, pulling your leg out of sugurus grasp to access your leaking cunt better, pressing the harsh cloth against you and wiping you as gently as he could,
“sorry,” he winced for you in sympathy when you groaned out a protest, trying to close your legs on his hand at how painfully sensitive the rough towel made you feel, “anyways, you’re both good in bed, kay?” he continues,
“when suguru fucks me, it feels like my fucking guts are getting all messed up to make room for his stupidly big cock,” looking up through his lashes at sugurus smug expression, then back down to focus on what he was doing before making eye contact with you,
your arms still crossed over your chest, “n your throat squeezes me so fucking good i thought i was seein the pearly gates,” hand coming up to pinch your cheek, discarding the towel somewhere on the floor, standing once more to look for someone’s shirt on the floor he can put on,
“ ‘fucks’ as in you’ve had sex multiple times?” you stared in disbelief between the two of the large men, before settling your eyes on suguru
continuing your teasing you spoke up again, “and my compliment still sounded better,” you challenged him, a smug looks gracing your features
“you think so?” the raven haired man scrunched his eyebrows together, before turning his head to look straight at gojo’s supple bent over ass as he picked up a shirt and started to pull it over his head, “well, only one way to be sure which of us is really better.” he says to you quietly before standing
coming up behind gojo and grabbing his raised arms, preventing him from putting on his shirt, “hold that thought satoru, we’re in the middle of a little debate right now” yanking the shirt from satoru’s hands and throwing it back to its prior home on the floor,
“think you can help us? hmm?” he whispers, right into the shell of his best friends ear, sending goosebumps down his neck, “we’ll make it worth your while.”
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almost two hours later and the three of you were still in the same room, on the same bed,
gojo on his back, suguru fucking his cock right into his prostate as you face gojo, bouncing on his overstimulated dick, a thick ring of yours and his combined cum on the base of his overstimulated cock,
“c-cant cum anymore p-please- haaah- fuck please!” gojo whimpers out, thrashing his head back and forth on the sheets as fat tears drip down his face, making his cheeks shine under the light, “‘s too much ‘m too sensitive, ohmygodd” he drags, curses spilling from his lips one after another, his hold on your grip sure to leave nasty bruises as his hips fuck into your warm cunt without his brains permission,
“not till you tell us who’s better,” geto emphasizes with a heavy thrust, hand coming up to choke you out while he gives gojos poor hole the meanest treatment,
“‘s me right? ‘ve made you cum inside me so many times.” you slur, voice strained from getos rough grip on your throat
“bold of you to think that was your doing,” geto scoffs at you, “cmere,” he pulls your head back to press your lips together, other hand interlacing with gojos on your hip
satoru whines underneath the two of you, watching you makeout and feeling your cunt pulse around him because of suguru’s expert tongue work in your mouth had him spiraling
your hands coming up to grab geto’s wrist while he hums into the kiss, biting your lip between his teeth and pulling on it, letting it go before he chases after it and connects your lips once more
“‘m gunna cum again- please fuck- nggghhh i c-cant cum again,” gojo whines, squeezing getos hand and your hip for support as he’s falling into yet another orgasm and fast,
suguru pulls away from the kiss, releasing his grip on your neck as he pushes your lower back down twords gojos chest, “yes you can,” he growls
the raven haired man grabs your hair by the roots and pushes your face into satorus, “help him through it baby,” not needing to be told twice, you grab gojos cheeks with both your hands and slot your lips against his,
“mmmmph- mmm- can-t- p-please i-“ his protests being cut off by your lips, not letting him catch a breath
“got you, cmon” you comfort him in between your assault on his lips, geto reaching between his bestfriend and your body, finding your neglected clit, and rubbing sloppy circles on it, helping you get closer to your own high
“right there with you,” geto grits his teeth, resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and tip his head back, so he can watch the show unfolding in front of him,
“gonna fill up this tight ass while you cum inside them, okay? and you’re gonna take everything we give you, right?” geto’s hips losing their rhythm, teetering on the edge of his own orgasm
gojo just whimpers into your mouth, hes trying to speak, he really is, but it’s all too much, he’s completely fucked out
“need to hear you say it satoru,” he emphasizes with a mean thrust, fucking impossibly deeper into his tight hole,
getos hand rubbing sloppily on your clit almost becomes too much, “yes! yesyes please ohmygod- gonna take it- shit-“ gojo’s whiney voice gets out just before he feels your cunt start to squeeze him,
“toru! fuuuuck me!” you whine, the blondes hips mindlessly fucking up into you helping you ride out your high as he cums so fucking hard, bordering on painful as spurt after spurt of his warm seed fills you once more,
and he’s gasping, barely coherent broken moans of both of your names on satoru’s tongue
geto not far behind you as he stills, balls deep inside gojos ass, the last push he needed seeing the two of you cum all over each other,
“yesssss fuuuuck” he clenches his teeth together hard, toothy grin emerging on his face, finally letting his head fall back, eyes following suit, rolling to the back of his head, “take it f-fucking t-take it.” fucking each rope of his cum deep into gojo’s ass
all three of you bask in the aftershocks of your intense orgasms, core clenching and unclenching around gojo’s length as you finally come down, picking your head up from gojos neck and smiling at his current state,
he was sniffling and gasping, red faced, tears decorating his lashes, making them look like glitter, he appeared more fucked out than ever
geto behind him slowly pulls out his softening cock, and gojo lets out a long groan of overstimulation when he does so, digging his fingers into the fat of your sides and wincing, “fuck, please don’t move yet, might pass out if you do” he says to you, his poor dick crying for relief, still snug inside your pussy, twitching every so often against your walls
you giggle, peppering kisses all over his face, he lets his eyes shut, finally relaxing a little as he relishes in the feeling of your soft lips on his skin,
suguru coming around to sit by his head
when you stop your assult of kisses on his porcelain face geto grabs gojos cheek furthest away from him and makes him turn his head into his thick thigh, “so,” geto starts, rubbing his thumb on gojos cheek, “who was better?” he asks, cocky smile finding home once more on his face
gojos eyes shoot open, looking at him slightly panicked, squeezing your upper thighs for support before he speaks, looking back between the two of you,
“i….im afraid if i don’t answer we will never leave this room.” he gulps
geto confirms his fears, tilting his head to the side, face sporting the fakest smile of comfort gojo has ever seen, “you would be absolutely right.”
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chuluoyi · 1 month
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」
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based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3
a part of gojo's love entries
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your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.
and your husband...
“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.
he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.
“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.
“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”
he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”
they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.
“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.
“damn, my kid is so cute.”
suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.
and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.
“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”
“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.
“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”
your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.
and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—
“oh my! their baby is so cute!”
“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”
“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”
satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.
and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.
your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”
as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”
it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.
several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.
you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.
. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.
satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.
“sato—!”
and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:
“so... baby number two, when?”
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ryan-sometimes · 6 days
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Who were the lesbian blood sisters?
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“Suddenly, the hospitals were full of lesbians who were volunteering. Volunteering to go into those rooms and help my friends who were dying. I remember being so moved by them because gay men hadn’t been too kind to lesbians. We’d call them ‘fish’ and make fun of the butch dykes in the bars – and yet, there they were.”
In the 80s, the AIDS crisis was devastating the world of GLBT people - as the acronym read at the time. Gay men were banned from donating blood, which was desperately needed by patients dying from AIDS. The fear around HIV was so great that doctors and nurses refused to even enter the rooms of AIDS patients. These patients were often abandoned by their families in their dying days. There was a crisis was in the GLBT community, and so lesbians stepped in.
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Lesbians organized blood drives in order to give blood to AIDS patients who desperately needed it. These blood drives attracted dozens, if not hundreds of lesbians at a time who all donated their blood. They called themselves the Blood Sisters, and they organized regular blood drives for at least 4 years. HIV patients needed frequent blood transfusions due to anemia induced from the virus, and so lesbians provided this blood.
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In addition to blood drives, lesbians also took place as physical caretakers for gay men with AIDS, who were often abandoned by their families and even nursing staff who refused to go into their rooms. Lesbians held hands, fed, and took care of them.
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In order to honor the efforts of lesbians during the AIDS crisis, the GLBT acronym was changed to LGBT, with lesbians deliberately at the front. Lesbians were a crucial part of the fight against AIDS, and this change would immortalize it in our community.
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johnvelaoras · 4 days
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Coombe Farm IAA Summer League 5 9th June 2024
Coombe Farm – IAA Summer League 5 – 9th June 2024 https://ift.tt/0rAcNOp For the penultimate round of the summer league, we were back at Coombe and it was my turn on pegs 4, 5 or 7. In all four matches so far, peg 5 has been the one to draw, winning the section every time. After a lovely brekkie at the bowling club (thanks Charlotte) it was ... Source
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xreaderanonaccount · 6 months
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So Warm and Fluffy
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Synopsis: Harbinger men (minus Pucinella) with an S/O who wears their Fatui coat.
Characters: Pierro, Capitone, Dottore, Pantalone, Childe
Tags; Suggestive on Childe
A/N: Gawd, I need more lore on all the harbingers. I need MORE. I also lowkey didn't know what to write for Panatalone, which sucks cause I absolutely love this man.
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The party was a bore, you couldn’t help but let out a bored sigh. Pierro seemed to immediately notice this and placed a gentle hand on the bottom of your back.
“Is everything okay my dear?” Pierro whispered into your ear, you leaned against his shoulder and sighed.
“This place is a bore and there’s nothing fun.” Pierro hummed in agreement as he stared distantly towards the crowd. There was a small crowd of aristocrats huddled around you two hoping to earn a favor from the Tsaritsa. You just sighed again before looking at the giant door that beckoned you toward them.
“Dear, I’m going to walk around a bit. Is that okay?” You asked, tilting your head towards him. Pierro closed his eyes and gave a soft nod.
“Make sure you bring a scout.” Pierro sighed as he turned back to a conversation an aristocrat was trying to make. You smiled to yourself before beckoning a nearby scout to follow you. You were very lucky that the party was hosted in one of the many Fatui’s castles, even more lucky that this just so happens to be Pierro’s. You and the scout silently walked down the empty hall, your shoes echoed around before stopping by a familiar door. You smiled as you fished in your pockets, pulling out a small key. You gently placed the key inside the keyhole before turning it. With a soft click the door opened revealing a huge office. You knew this office quite well as this was Pierro’s main office. You walked towards the giant desk smiling as you picked up a small picture of you and Pierro. You gently placed the picture back down before walking around the office. Staring out the window you sighed happily staring down the garden that Pierro planted for you. You were so lost in thought, staring at the snowflakes that slowly drifted down, that you didn’t feel the soft click of the door open. You smiled to yourself thinking about the nice stroll you and Pierro took earlier in the morning. You suddenly felt warm, when you felt a soft coat gently placed on your shoulder. 
“You’ll get cold if you stay still like that.” Pierro murmured against your ear, planting a soft kiss against your cheek. His mask slightly biting your skin. You giggled as you turned to face Pierro. 
“Well if I do get cold you’ll somehow keep me warm right?” You smiled as you placed your hand right where his heart lay. Pierro deeply chuckled as he cupped your hand as you planted a soft kiss on your wrist.
“Of course, my dear.” 
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Capitano grunted as he attacked the dummies with his giant claymore. You stared unapologetically at Capitano’s abs, muscle, anything your eyes looked around. You sighed dreamily as Capitano's muscles moved and contracted with each swing. You two were in the lobby of Goth Grand Hotel which Lord Regrator generously booked… forever. Capitano swung his claymore, slicing the dummies in half. Capitano huffed and puffed as he circled his shoulders. Loosening the tension in his shoulder. You clapped at Capitano’s display,
“You look so good Darling.” You smiled as you slouched against the plush lobby couch. Capitano gave out a hearty laugh before walking over to get a drink from his cup. 
“Thank you my love.” He laughed as he lifted his helmet slightly for him to wipe his sweat. You hummed as you looked around the lobby of the Goth Grand Hotel. It was quite fancy, true to Mondstadt architecture the arcs curved beautifully with etched designs watching over you two. The soft light emitting from the crystal chandelier shone upon you. Your eyes drift before you spot Capitano’s Harbinger coat. He didn’t wear it as Mondstadt’s weather didn’t deemed it cold enough for him to wear it. You traced your hand over the details of the Harbingers coat. Whoever designed it clearly had a good sense of fashion. You smiled as you pulled the heavy coat towards you. Capitano’s smell filled your senses as you took in a deep breath, allowing his scent to fill your lungs. You couldn’t help but sigh as you got comfortable on the lobby couch. You watched Capitano continue his training, his sleeveless turtleneck hug his muscles so well. Capitano swung his claymore making eye contact with you who was snug underneath his harbinger coat.
“Comfortable?” Capitano asked, hoisting his claymore over his shoulder. You nodded as you pulled the black fur close to your face.
“Your jacket is very comfortable.”  You smiled as you adjusted your position, Capitano laughed as he turned back to his dummies.
“Well then I'll ask Pantalone about getting you a custom one." You can hear Capitano smile as he slashed at the nearest dummy. You couldn't help but laugh,
"That would be nice wouldn't it?"
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You shivered inside Dottore’s lab. Your lover is a mad man so of course he loves to have his lab ac on in an already really cold nation. You are already wearing thick layers but the cold keeps biting your skin. 
“Can we please turn the heater on?” You asked, but it seemed the question fell on deaf ears. As none of the segments seemed to hear you, they were too busy arguing with something that you couldn’t understand. You frowned slightly as the cold got to you. You got up and started to pace around the lab trying to warm yourself up. It was slightly working if it wasn’t for the fact that every other step you were taking you were bumping into one of the many segments. You always apologize and move out of the way. You did a couple more laps before you were stopped by Omega who just gave a small smile.
“Darling dearest, I believe you’re getting in the way. How about staying in Prime’s office till he returns?” He asked, not even waiting for your answer before guiding you towards Dottore’s office. You tried to protest but it seemed that protest didn’t reach Omega who just opened the office door and gently pushed you in.
“I’ll ask Delta to bring you something to eat, just stay put okay?” Omega gave you a smile before closing the door with a soft click. You sighed in frustration as you waltz around Dottore’s office. It looked off putting for some people, but you thought it was just his weird hobby. The assortment of body parts in jars, taxidermy animals, different types of ruin guards splattered around. It was a mess but a weird organized mess. You walked around his desk sitting down on his plush chair. Still freezing cold, you looked around the office spotting a small closet in the corner. Smiling, you got up and walked towards the door. Maybe Dottore at least will have a lab coat or something for you to wear. Opening the wooden doors, they gave a soft groan as you peered inside. The closet was mainly empty except for one item, his Fatui harbinger coat. You smiled to yourself as you ran your hand through the fabric. It was so soft under your hand, the soft metal clanked against each other as you cupped the teal crystal. You admired the crystal in your hands as it sparkled in the light. You gently took the coat off the hanger and put it on. The warmth instantly engulfs you, along with his scent. You smiled to yourself as you walked back towards his desk chair. You plopped down back on the plush chair, wiggling a bit, getting yourself comfortable on the plush chair. Finally comfortable in the severe cold lab you nuzzled your head against the black fur. The thick winter coat made you instantly feel warm. As you enjoy the deserved warmth you feel your eyes becoming droopy. Sleep lures you in as you close your eyes, the warmth, dottore’s cologne, and the comfort of being close to the segments. It seemed that you lost the battle as sleep took over slouching against the desk chair.
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Dottore walked into the lab to the buzzing sounds and movements. He rolled his shoulder as he put on his white lab jacket. Before he could get to his experiment table he was stopped by Delta who handed him a report.
“Here is that report you wanted,” Delta nodded as Dottore took it out of his hands. He flipped through the pages pleased by the results.
“Good, get back to work.” Dottore threw the report back to Delta’s arms, who just nodded. But before he was able to get back to work Delta told him about your state and how cold you were. Dottore rolled his eyes as he knew you would be cold and asked what they did about it. Delta mentioned that you paced around a bit before being put into his office. Dottore was curious about what you had gotten up to in his office. Dismissing Delta, Dottore headed to his office giving soft raps against his own office door. He thought this was silly but he rather you not throw something at him then be startled for a bit. When he didn’t hear a response he opened the door, only to be greeted by you snuggled up in his fatui harbinger coat sleeping on his office chair. Dottore smirked as he walked over to you, watching your sleeping form. Oh how naive you are to let your guard down, if you were anyone else he would have stuck so many different types of needles into you. Draw some blood samples, screw it, why not inject you with a mind altering drug? But lucky for you, you were his darling dearest, and he could never hurt you. He smiled to himself before tilting his mask up just enough for him to plant a kiss on top of your head without it poking your head. With a very rare and out of character soft smile Dottore turned back and headed to work. At least he doesn’t have to hear you complain about the cold.
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You and Pantalone walked down Snezhnaya’s greenhouse, a greenhouse that was owned by the Fatui for the public to see ecosystems from different regions. Hand in hand you walked down as you listened to a guide explain each plant from different regions. You smile as you listen to the guide, you would glance back at Pantalone who would always smile at you but you knew for a fact that he was bored out of his mind. He got particularly bored during the Liyue region, you didn’t care, you were just happy to see so much green. Snezhnaya is always cold and has deep shades of blue, so seeing this much green always makes you feel better. You two concluded your tour and were ready to head out, but as soon as you stepped outside the bitter wind blew against your face. You shivered against your already thick jacket, it seemed that the Snezhnaya weather had dipped way below freezing. You breathe into your hands to keep yourself warm, but alas it didn’t work. You stared out on the snow covered streets. Pantalone said that a vehicle should be coming soon but you couldn’t see crap. You felt yourself being pulled gently back inside the greenhouse before having a thick outer layer gently placed on your shoulder. You looked behind to see Pantalone smiling at you, he was wearing his purple inner jacket which seemed to do little to hide Pantalone’s shiver. 
“Pantalone, you’re shivering here.” You tried to protest by removing his Fatui coat off your shoulder but you were stopped as Pantalone placed it back on your shoulders.
“I’ll be fine my lily, your comfort is my utmost priority.” Pantalone smiled as he then turned to one of the workers ``kindly” asking them to bring a heater. Kindly is putting it nicely, more like he was demanding it with a nice tone. You giggled a bit before settling down on a nearby seat. Pantalone turned back to you giving you a rare soft smile that he only gives when you two were completely alone. 
“You look ravenous in my coat dear, I should have the tailor make one to your size.” He smiled as he adjusted the collar. 
“That would be nice,” you smiled as you saw a light shine through the greenhouse's door.
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You were rummaging through Childe’s closet, as Teucer wrote a letter missing Childe. So in return you thought it would be really cute to send one of Childe’s dress shirts over, hoping it would keep the young lad at bay. As you rummage through you feel something soft and fluffy brush against your hand. You paused for sec, Childe doesn’t own anything fluffy. He’s normally wearing something semi-fancy or an outfit fit for a warrior. Letting your thoughts get you, you pulled the fluffy object out of the closet. You gave a soft smile as you pulled his formal overcoat out. You brushed against the fabric, you normally only get to see him wearing this during special events. And when those special events happen you normally can’t see him because you’re so far away from the stage to see the harbingers so close. But when you do get a glimpse you understand the girls in Snezhnaya who fawn over the harbingers. Childe looks so handsome in the coat, and looks very warm. 
An idea popped into your head as you walked out of the walk-in closet. You pranced towards the giant mirror that sat in your shared bedroom. Gently putting the outer coat on you were overwhelmed by Childe’s cologne. You smiled as you hugged the coat closer to you. Looking at yourself in the mirror you were engulfed by his coat. The metal charms softly clanked against each other as you gave yourself a little twirl. Smiling to yourself you cuddled yourself into the black fur. It was so soft and warm and reminded you so much of Childe. As you were lost in your thoughts you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. You yelped in surprise before you heard a familiar chuckle. 
“You look so cute Zolotse.” You hear Childe mumble against the fur.
“Ajax! You’re home early.” You looked at him in surprise. He smiled as he stared loving at you.
“Yeah, I was able to finish work early and was just too excited to come home.” He laughed a bit before burying his head back into the fur coat. You leaned into Childe’s lean body as you two stayed in that position for a moment. 
“Maybe I’ll ask Pantalone to make a custom jacket for you.” Childe smiled as he picked you up in ease and twirled you around. You two laughed before Childe dropped you two on your soft bed. He was on top of you while you were sprawled against the bed. The Coat slightly hanging on you.
“Ha, you look so cute wearing my clothes. I wonder…” Childe gave a devious smile before you playfully hit his shoulder.
“Take me to dinner first Mr.Fatui Harbinger.” You two laughed as Childe fell on top of you engulfing you in a hug. 
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rinhaler · 7 months
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DEATH IS NO MORE !
you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot Notes: ty penny for beta reading again! picturing sukuna like this art by @innaillus bc i have had nothing else on my mind for days. Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, violence, blood ♡, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking ♡, creampie, squirting ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby). Words: 10k
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As your heels snap against the pavement, you can almost feel the pulsing bass from the music surge from your toes and throughout your entire nervous system. The music is loud enough to hear, even from a distance, and it only gets louder as you step closer and closer to the abandoned warehouse.
You shouldn’t be here.
The voice is yours, internally. Though it feels like an out of body experienced as you venture head first towards a destination you have no business being anywhere near. The music muddies your thoughts. It’s confusing you, deeply.
Is there a dress code?
That doesn’t matter, because you shouldn’t be here.
The bass is hypnotic. That pounding bass that makes you feel weak and ethereal all in one dizzying bout. It’s like you’re going to a rave, though you’re not even close to being dressed the part. You’ve been at work all day. The last thing you should be doing is trespassing into a building that has been off limits for five years.
You just couldn’t resist, this.
Not with the rumours flying around and the hushed whispers of secrecy luring you in to investigate for yourself.
With the double doors in sight, you finally see that the entrance is being manned. Is it security or just a ticket holder? You aren’t sure you want to find out. They might take one look at you and shoo you away. There’s no way you can leave until you get what you came for.
You slip out of sight as you see another pair of men get out of a car parked near the entrance and approach. Your breathing is egregious, though you try to calm it. The adrenaline swirling through your every vein and muscle is enough to make you pass out. But the agonising desire to enter and see the truth for yourself is holding you steady.
$100 for a ticket.
“Christ.” you whisper to yourself.
You put your hand in your pocket and fish out your purse. As you open it and begin to look, you halt. The way your hands are trembling is abnormal, even for being this worked up. The pumping of your heart transfers to your brain. The pink, mushy organ pounds dramatically against the inside of your skull, and really, you think melodic beat of the music inside must be slithering its way into the creases of your braincells.
There’s a pain behind your eyes. You feel a migraine coming on and you’re all too familiar with the agonising feeling as you often leave your work days suffering from them.
You deepen your breaths in a bid to steel yourself. And eventually, you find the money to pay the fee. So you wait, patiently, for the other two men to enter the warehouse before you reveal yourself from the shadows. There’s an air of confidence to you as you approach the entrance.
Though it fades, slightly, as the man holds his hand up like a crossing guard.
“Women don’t come around here,” he starts, checking a clipboard that looks too small in his comically large hands. He flips through the pages and then looks at you again. “You’re not on the list.”
“I have the fucking money.” you tell him, slapping it on top of his stupid clipboard hard enough for him to almost drop it. He tries to stop you as you attempt to barge by him, though it isn’t a strict action.
More like a warning.
“It’s not a sight a lady should see, I think.” he tells you, still putting your hard earned money into a tin of other generous donations, you expect. His eyes focus on your own as he continues to speak. “You’re rich. Expensive clothes… shouldn’t have worn those here. Gets messy. Be careful.” he tells you. And with that, you enter the warehouse and heed his warning.
You walk slowly, but with purpose. A chill stabs down your spine as you approach a flight of stairs a group of men are running down. They wolf whistle upon seeing you and it curdles in your stomach. You try to keep your head held high as you climb and follow the sound of that intoxicating bass. Wherever the music is coming from is surely the source of the action, too.
The time of day is indicative of the lighting. It’s pitch black outside and it it’s even darker, still, in the warehouse. Though the moonlight manages to break in through the shattered windows enough to illuminate your path.
There’s a smell that you’re beginning to notice that invades your senses. A potent stench that is so specifically masculine and territorial. It’s sweat. Blood, too.
Once you get to the top of the stairs, there are double doors with a red light bleeding through the cracks. The music is louder, too, as well as the vociferous shouting being contained solely by the big, heavy duty doors.
And now, truly, you worry things have gone too far. The doors part and you slink into the shadows, still approaching without hesitation. You’re scared. God, terrified, really. But the adrenaline keeps you from retreating. There’s one goal you have in mind, and once complete, you can return back to your peaceful, suburban life.
A man holds the door as he waits for a friend to leave with him. You watch them walk away together, bragging about their earnings before you slip inside inconspicuously.
The red light contrasts from the rest of the building. And you think your retinas might explode from the change, you don’t let it divert your attention, though. But it’s hard to deny how distracted you are.
As the atmosphere has changed you begin to feel heady from the scent of sweat and testosterone. You do your best to continue undetected as you try to keep to the edges of the crowd. But a few eyes find you. Nudging and laughing when they see a woman, God forbid, enter their sacred male space. You notice there’s no malice mostly. It’s more leering and ogling despite doing all you can to not give them any attention or feed into their sex drive.
But you scream.
Scream could even be an understatement as you feel a tight squeeze on your upper arm flesh yank you away from the crowd and into the background of the room. Your adrenaline seems to die the instant one red eye matching the ambient lighting filling the room like a brothel in a red light district stare into yours.
Half of his face is covered by some sort of black mask.
Protecting his battle wounds, you assume.
There are a few laughs and stares before they’re pulled back to the main attraction. There’s a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you, but you can barely dwell on it as you look up at the man who had dragged you away so carelessly.
He’s easily the tallest man you’ve ever met. At least 6’5 and towering above you like you’re a puny child as you try and stand confidently beneath him. But the little gasp you emit when he bends down to whisper in your ear gives you away, instantly. He smirks, knowing just how scared you are. He knows just how worried you are and how out of your depth you are.
“And just what is a fragile little thing like you doing in my club?” he asks, a tantalising lilt in his words that would have your knees folding like outdoor furniture if you didn’t have one reason and one reason alone for being here. He pulls away from your ear, an intimidating glare staring back at you as he waits for an answer. “You don’t look like you can fight. Not that I’d allow it, anyway.” he tells you.
“I’m looking for someone.” you blurt out, unsure if you should have said that or kept it to yourself. It’s too late, now, and you see a sadistic smile transform his ravenous expression into one of sheer entertainment.
“Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve got a boyfriend you’re worried about fighting here.” he laughs, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how his eyes move from your face to your breasts. They’re covered, entirely. The decision to wear a turtleneck for work has come back to bite you as the sweltering heat feels enough to knock you unconscious.
It’s suffocating.
He isn’t really looking at your tits, however. His eyes instead seem to hone in on the silver necklace you’re wearing. And you can see how his eyes squint as he tries to think of anyone fighting here who’s initial begins with M before letting his dirty mind race at the thought of the letter slipping between your cleavage had you opted to wear something a little more revealing.
“You look like a cop, sweetheart. Not a good place for you to be all by yourself.” he informs you. A cop? You hadn’t even thought about how you’d stand out in that way. “I don’t need the fuzz poking around here, what do you want?” he asks, his voice a little more pointed and venomous as he raises your necklace with a single finger to toy with it.
If you weren’t so frozen in fear, you would have backed away and hid your necklace down your sweater. But you were scared, statuesque. The only movement you were able to perform was moving your lips.
A pretty trait for you to possess, he thinks.
“My brother is here, I think.” you tell him, calmly, hoping your honesty will earn you some favour in his eyes. His eyebrow quirks as he thinks about you possessing a family resemblance to anyone here. “He’s underage.”
He smiles at that. The pieces suddenly all fall into place as he knows exactly who you’re talking about. And he parts space between you both, grabbing the collar of your white, wool coat and pulling you along with him. The two of you get through the crowd with ease until you’re standing at the front.
A shriek leaves you as the losing opponent hurtles towards you, though your self-appointed escort gets in his way before your clothes can become ruined by the blood that has now smeared on your saviour’s skin. You’re sure he’s thankful that he wore a black vest so that you can’t really see the stains on it. Realistically, he probably doesn’t care, you think.
He wouldn’t be running a fight club if he cared about something as tedious as stains.
As he moves out of the way to reveal the victor, your own blood begins to simmer and spill from you. Megumi raises his arms triumphantly, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground next to the wounded man he’s evidently just beaten to a bloody, unconscious puddle. And you could tear his head off with your bare teeth with the rage that you feel.
But you can’t.
Not when the man who led you here steps into the makeshift ring of people surrounding them and hands him his earnings. And your brother smiles, gratefully, as he accepts and counts it.
“There’s someone here to see you, kid.” he tells him, tilting his head in your direction. Your foot taps against the dirty warehouse floor as you wait for him to notice you. And boy does he notice you. “Oh, are you that scared of her?” he laughs, noticing all of the colour draining from Megumi’s face as he processes the fact that you’re here. That you’re really here.
“The fuck are you doing here?!” he asks, running up to you and attempting to conceal the money as best he can. But it’s too late, you snatch it from his hand and look at him with contempt.
“Me? What are you doing here?! You’re seventeen! You’re not Tyler fucking Durden, Megumi.” you slap him upside the head and drag him away from the crowd. “I’m furious, I don’t even know where to start with you.” you tell him as you approach the heavy doors that are keeping this disgusting little community trapped in the sweaty, blood soaked room.
“Get off.” he shakes himself loose. “I left my stuff in Sukuna’s office.” he announces, leaving before you give him permission. You huff, following him up the steel stairs as you continue your onslaught of verbal abuse and anger at his sheer stupidity.
He should see a doctor, really. But you worry he’ll get in trouble if the police get involved. And he might end off worse, still, if he rats out this place and gets everyone else in trouble. It’s too much, you know you’ll have to cover for him.
You could cry, now. But you aren’t sure if it’s anger or genuine upset. And honestly, you don’t want him to see you cry over this. Weakness is not something you need him to see right now, you want to keep it together. You’re his guardian and you can’t be soft with him just because he’s your brother.
He picks up his gym bag from a locker in the room. Your eyes are laser focused on him, all of the trust you felt towards him is long gone. And now, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to take your eyes off him again.
“Megumi… how did you even get involved with this?” you ask him, earning nothing more than an infuriated grunt as if you have no right asking. How dare you care about him and his wellbeing when you’re all each other have? You want to scream, to fucking scream at him for being such an idiot. “I thought you were getting bullied at school. I asked you if—”
“Drop it. Can we just go?” he asks.
“Tsk.” you kiss your teeth. Your gaze suddenly stolen as the man you can only presume is Sukuna walks into the office like he owns the place. He does. You close the distance between yourself and Megumi as his sadistic boss sits on a comfy looking chair behind an old battered desk. “Give me your phone. Go wait in the car. Do not go anywhere.” you warn him as you hand him the car keys.
He sighs, placing his phone in your hand before turning to leave. You don’t look at him, though, too focused on Sukuna to even pay him any mind.
Your blood continues to boil, bubbling under the surface of your skin as you look at Sukuna. A smarmy smirk plastered on his face as he kicks his feet up onto the desk. So, Megumi leaves. He knows better than to push you when you’re this pissed.
“Before you start, princess,” Sukuna stands back up and circles around the desk. Your eyes vibrate with fury as you watch him, backing up as he gets too close. “I didn’t force him to do this.”
“Don’t call me princess.” you tell him, shutting down the cutesy pet name in an instant the minute you get an opening to speak. You rest you hand on your hip as you point at him furiously. It’s rude, you know it’s rude, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not after seeing your little brother like that. “He’s just a kid. I don’t want him involved in this stuff, I’m trying to be a good role model and you’re fucking everything up. He’s not coming back, ban him.”
“Fuck no.” he chortles. “He might be a kid but he’s good. I pay well. ‘n I like him, I do. He’s a moody little brat but he makes me laugh and earns me a shit ton. I’m not banning him for you. Or anyone.”
“Maybe I should call the police, see what they have to say about all of this.” you threaten, immediately regretting it, when the smile drops from his face and is replaced with something akin to bemusement. He hadn’t expected you to threaten him. But the incredulous stare is soon replaced by another smile.
“You wouldn’t risk getting Megumi in trouble… nice try though.” he speaks, leaning back against his desk and crossing one ankle over the other as he folds his arms. He’s thinking. Genuinely thinking of a way to compromise. “What do you do?”
“I’m… a doctor.” you tell him. Earning a set of raised eyebrows and an amused scoff as he looks you over once more. He supposes it explains the fancy clothes and snooty attitude.
But—
“You’re too young to be a doctor, aren’t you?” he wonders.
“I’m a primary care physician.” you tell him. He nods in understanding, but you’re confused now. You shake away his questions and his interest in you before staring at him again with intent. “This needs to stop. I’m not going to call the police but I’m not letting my brother come back here, it’s too dangerous. He’s a child.”
“He’s a man, you’re babying him. He made three grand tonight, he’s earning money and staying out of trouble because he has an outlet for his anger.” Sukuna tells you. The amount of money he’s made surprises you, and you’re holding it in your coat pocket right now. He’s going to be down $100 after you take it out of his earnings, though. But still. Even you can’t deny that it’s impressive. “Stuck up princess. Snooty doctor. Think you can come in my fuckin’ club and tell me what to do? Fuck that.” Sukuna claims.
He doesn’t say anything else as he waits for you to speak. But, truthfully, you’re still thinking about Megumi. The fact that he needs an outlet for his anger is worrisome. You’ve tried to get him to see a therapist, but he isn’t interested in the least.
It’s been hard being a single parent to him when you’re too selfish and irresponsible to even look after yourself, let alone a teenage boy. He probably thinks you’re useless. You have no control over him, really. All you do is make sure he’s fed and has a place to sleep and get his school work done.
But after discovering this, you’re sure he hasn’t even been bothering to attend school.
“Oi.” Sukuna speaks, stealing your stare again as you’re finally brought out of your troubled gaze. “You’re a sheltered little princess, aren’t you? A place like this is just full of scum to you.”
“I don’t care about this.” you laugh, minimally, not really seeing the funny side but you have nothing else to offer by way of expression. He hesitates a little, seeing the defeated look in your eye. “The injuries and psychological damage these places can cause…”
“Not everyone’s got a fancy college education like you, girl.” he tells you, patronisingly, as if you don’t know that. But he doesn’t let you interrupt. “Some people need a quick buck to get out of trouble. Other’s like the thrill. But who the fuck are you to come into my club and tell us all we’re wrong? Comin’ in here in your doctor clothes… looking down your nose at us.”
“That’s not—”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re doin’, sweetheart.” he continues. “You get to sit behind a desk all day and tell people what pills to take to feel better and then go home to your cosy house in the suburbs without a care in the world.”
“Don’t fucking patronise me.” you warn him, though you don’t have the muscle or means to back it up. He reminds you a lot of how your dad used to be. You didn’t particularly take shit from him, and you certainly won’t be taking it from Sukuna if you can help it. “If you’re letting a seventeen year old walk away with three grand, I’m sure you’re making a lot more money than I am behind my desk. I work hard. You’re lining your pockets from other people’s pain.”
“Only a little,” he smirks at that, knowing you’re right but not entirely. “I fight. I bleed.”
And you scoff. It’s so fucking archaic and you can’t help but pace around with your hands on your hips as you try and decide where to even start with that. What can you say, really? Congratulations? No, definitely not. You stop in your tracks as you realise how close he is to you, now, deciding he wanted to close the gap between the two of you while your mind was elsewhere.
You breathe a little heavier as you fall backwards onto the couch behind you while he towers above you. His eyes rake over your body as he drinks you in. The slight fear lingering below the surface, shrouded by a cloud of false confidence as you do all you can to not succumb to his intimidation.
His arms almost cage you in.
Almost.
He’d let you free yourself if you tried to escape.
But you aren’t trying.
You’re just staring into his eye.
And he likes that.
“Watch me.” he orders. The sentence is soft but with a hard, seductive edge. It’s an offer despite it sounding like a command. You aren’t sure what he’s asking you to watch but your heart rate is imploring you to decline, whatever it may be. He tilts his head, it’s barely noticeable, and somehow you do notice. You notice the way his eye flits from your eyes to your lips. Not once, multiple times. He has no shame, he doesn’t care that you know he’s looking. He doesn’t act on it, anyway. “Watch me fight.”
“Pardon?” you ask, instantly. Bewildered that he would even dare to dream that you’d do something so idiotic. Your brother is waiting, patiently, for you to take him home. Unless he’s stolen your car, of course. But you’d like to think he knows he’s in enough trouble than to do something so stupid.
“You’ve never seen a fight. Watch the best at work, you might change your opinion. Watch me.” he repeats.
He watches as your eyes glaze over with a watery sheen, smirking. There is a breeze left in the wake of him quickly freeing your body from his caging arms and heading towards the entrance to his office. Your breathing is intense and your hands begin to shake. You think to text Megumi and check he’s okay, before remembering that you have his phone.
You look over your shoulder to see Sukuna leaning over the railing. He’s yelling about something but your ears are ringing in your confusion. The music isn’t helping, either. You look down at your phone to check the time, not even really taking it in before you place both Megumi’s and your own in each of your pockets.
Sukuna returns, entering with a cool swagger before leaning on the edge of his desk again.
“You’ve got ten minutes to decide.” he tells you.
Decide?
You’ve already decided. There’s no way you’re sticking around to watch him beat someone within an inch of their life. Or vice versa if his opponent proves to be too much. But with his physique and confidence, you doubt he’ll lose. And almost as if he’s read your mind, he smirks.
“I’m going to win.” he informs you, a cocksure grin saturating his lips as he drinks in your reaction to his words. You cross a leg over the other and fold your arms, still determined to remain and appear defiant as you listen to him. He can sense you’re weakening resolve, though. “I always win, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.” you remind him, and he tuts in response. You can’t tell him what to do. You can try, but he won’t listen. And he hears the wavering in your words. Your desire to appear cold and callous towards him crumbling the longer you spend time in such close proximity to him.
“I think you like it.” he tells you, smiling. “Why are you still here?”
“I’m thinking.” you tell him in turn, scowling as you decide whether or not to leave right now or actually think this through. If you leave, you know your pride won’t allow you to change your mind.
“Don’t have all night for you’re thinkin’, doll.” he speaks. “Oh… I know, how about we make a little wager?”
“No.”
“Awe, c’mon, live a little.” he laughs, menially. He smirks as he hears you gasp whilst lifting you up like you’re nothing. He sits you down on his desk and for some reason you find yourself tightly wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest heaves, panicked from the process. You aren’t sure how that happened and you can’t seem to shake any of it away. Not when your fingernails are digging into his biceps and your lips are ghosting each other’s. What is he doing? “How about if I lose, I’ll tell Megumi he can’t come around here anymore.”
“You said you’ll win.”
He smirks, at that. Scarred hands nip and grab at your entirely covered flesh. He wishes he could just rip the material off you right here, right now. But he wouldn’t feel right about sending you to your car in torn clothing, telling your little brother exactly what kept you busy for so long.
“That, I did…” he speaks as if recollecting an ancient memory. But he looks at you, eyes traversing your body again. “So what—”
“’m not betting with you. I know you’re gonna win.” you tell him, moving your head back slightly so your lips are no longing tracing each other. Instead, you’re looking at him intently. “You’re just trying to get me to agree to something that I won’t be able to back out of. ‘m not stupid.”
“No, you’re not stupid.” he agrees. He tucks some hair behind your ear and grabs your chin so that you can’t break your stare from his own. “I know we both want the same thing right now, though. That pride will do you no good, y’know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, feigning ignorance as the heat between your legs begins to pool and seep into your panties. You hope he doesn’t notice. God you hope he doesn’t fucking feel it. You hope that your trousers will protect you, the fight should be starting soon. “I’m taking my brother home… but I hope you enjoy your little fight.”
“You’re not going anywhere or you would have left already.” he tells you, matter-of-fact. “The things I could say… I’m gonna say it all after I win.”
“I won’t be here. ‘n I’m not giving you my number.”
“You’ll be in the front fucking row watching me.” he sneers.
You inhale a sharp breath as he forcefully moves your head. A finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck, lazily pulling it downward to reveal the bare skin of your neck. His lips are close, breath dancing over the expanse of your skin. It’s a battle to withhold the shudder that is creeping through your veins. It makes your eyes water, a tear threatens to spill but you refuse to let it. You weld your eyes shut as he continues to torment you, and they appear even more watery when you open them again. The way your body trembles is harder to mask, though it’s nearly imperceptible as you accept you need to release it. All you can do is hope that he hasn’t noticed.
But he does.
The intensity of your breathing increases as you think he might kiss your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in preparation, but all he does is tease. And when you feel a near empty chuckle fan across your neck, your eyes widen once more.
“It’s time, princess.” he tells you, pulling away completely. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, heading towards the exit to his office before turning back to face you. “Come.”
And like you’re a voice activated toy, you follow him. He quick steps down the stairs while you struggle in your heels. You cling to the railing as you descend, and he waits patiently for you at the bottom.
He’s agnate to a God in this warehouse. You see how people respect and admire him as he enters the room. People part for him so that he can walk through with ease with you in tow. You’re really going to watch an authentic fight.
You wonder how different it will be in comparison to movies. You’re scared, shaking, but part of you is telling you that you need to see it. You need to see the state that Megumi could one day end up in if you don’t scold him correctly.
“Should I go easy on him, sweetheart?” he asks, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “She’s going to decide your fate tonight, listen up.” Sukuna tells his opponent. You want to kill him yourself for drawing everyone’s attention to you. You struggle to find words, mouth drying every time it opens.
“Just… don’t kill him.” you shrug. “But don’t get yourself killed, either.”
He laughs, shrugging his shoulders too. Neither of them look scared, though you suppose that’s the point. Neither of them would be doing this if they didn’t think they could win. They wouldn’t be here if they were afraid of getting hurt.
“She wants me to go easy on you…” Sukuna smirks.
You watch, nervously, as they circle around the ring for a while. He looks at you, briefly, as you fiddle with your necklace as you try and occupy your mind.
A ragged breath leaves you as they both lunge at each other. The way Sukuna dodges and weaves away from each and every attempt that should be hitting him is almost like watching a beautiful ballet.
It’s art, here.
Between these walls and amongst this audience. It is a true art form that is celebrated and enjoyed. The casualties don’t matter, not even a little. Everyone is a willing participant, even you, now. You could have left but decided not to.
It’s for Megumi, you tell yourself.
You need to be better and act better for him. And you can’t possibly do that without the knowledge of how truly dangerous this can be.
But now, seeing it for yourself, you’re starting to understand.
Sukuna is strong. Heavy fists affix themselves to his opponents face again and again until he’s on the ground. Blood pours from the man’s nose and you think he might suffocate from lost teeth and gurgling blood pooling in his throat.
And Sukuna… he’s been starved of this.
You start to think that maybe he doesn’t fight as regularly as he claims. It seems too easy for him, now. No one can beat him, so what’s the point? But he has missed this feeling. The feeling of seeing blood gush from an adversary who whole-heartedly believed they could take him on.
He takes pleasure in it, violence. Particularly the brand inflicted by him. He profits from it regularly, but this is a rare treat nowadays. He’s happy to sit in his office and let idiots do what idiots do as long as his pockets and wallet fill with each event.
This fight… it was on a whim.
Was it just to impress you?
He straddles his opponent as he repeatedly smashes the same fist into his face again and again and again. And he’s laughing. It’s maniacal, borderline insane laughter as you see blood spatter and clots form and congeal against the poor man’s skin.
And why…
Why are you loving this?
You can practically feel hearts and glitter adorning your eyes as you watch on in horror, unable to turn away. You’re mesmerised by it. You should be ashamed, really, you’re meant to be a doctor.
If you were a good person, you’d be breaking this up. You’d be rushing to the man’s side and calling an ambulance to help him. Instead of watching on in astonishment, you should be doing all you can to keep him alive after such a vicious assault. But instead, you’ve sunken to the balls of your feet so that you can be on their level and watch each and every punch land with excruciating detail. You don’t want it to stop. You could watch this forever.
Watch him forever.
You’re sick.
This is sick.
“Sukuna!” you yell, standing upright again and looking down at him. He stops short of landing one final blow to his opponents bulging and split nose so that he can look up at you. There’s worry in your eyes, and it makes his brows furrow. His eyes squint as he examines you. He isn’t sure how to read you or what you might be thinking. But he realises worry isn’t the only thing lingering behind those glimmering, wide eyes.
Something else entirely resides there that he’s longed to see since the moment he set eyes on you.
“Sorry, I got carried away.” he speaks down to the near dead man beneath him. “Were you done or did you want to keep going?”
“D… Don—”
“Thaaaaat’s great.” he responds to the man’s choked attempt to end the fight. Sukuna jumps to his feet, barely a scratch on him, and walks by you without looking back. You hasten behind him, almost unable to keep up in your stupid shoes. You see a man hand him something before walking away. You scrunch your brows as you look between them both.
Oh, he’s been paid.
He reaches the top of the stairs to his office and holds the door open for you to pass through. You duck by him, hiding in the room like you shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t. You feel so small and inconsequential when you’re near him.
It’s his height, you realise.
It’s effortless intimidation. He’s a giant and you have to crane your neck just to look up at him when he’s close to you. His giant frame and bulging muscles don’t put you at ease, either. If you make him mad enough, you wonder how far he’d go. Would he use his strength to his advantage? Maybe he’d just take pity on you.
“You’re still here.” he rasps, locking the door behind himself and closing the blinds to the room. He likes the privacy as he counts his money. It excites you, for some reason, to see so much in a big fat wad. He looks up at you briefly before focusing back on it. “You liked it.”
“No.”
“Yeah ya did,” he laughs. You watch him as he collects a heavy looking bag from another locker in the room. It’s different to the one Megumi used. It looks shinier, newer. Sturdier. “I can tell you liked it.”
“Well, I’m going now.” you start, turning to walk away before he stretches out an arm to stop you in your tracks. He walks you backwards until your ass collides into the edge of his desk. He doesn’t pick you up, though. He just sizes you up, slowly, purposefully. And what a pathetic size you are in comparison to him. “Megumi needs me…” you whisper, meekly.
His presence is truly all consuming as he lords above you. You’re trapped between his large frame and the tattered old desk that resides in this seedy office. He could afford something nicer. But what would be the point if the place gets raided?
“We wanted the same thing earlier,” he starts. His voice quiet but commanding, still. You look between his lips and his pressuring gaze. He smiles, at that, he can see the way your mind is running rampant with thoughts of him. The dirty criminal who wants to fuck you on his desk. “Bet ya want it even more now.”
“N-No.”
“Yes.” he argues, placing a bloody hand on your pristine coat and making a mess of it. His hand snakes around to your waist, eventually. You gasp when you feel him tug your body closer to his by your belt loops, grinning as the little noise you make hits his ears. “Stutterin’ over yours words and making pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Did you get all excited from seeing the blood? Bet ya did… bet you’re wet from seein’ daddy get violent.”
You gulp, heartily, your breathing gets heavier the more he speaks. His words rush straight to your cunt and you can barely ground yourself. The only thing keeping you from floating is your fingers curling around the edge of the desk as he continues to tease you.
“You’re fucking frigid.” he continues. Your eyes begin to water as he undoes the button on your pants and goes to pull down the zipper. You grab his hands to stop him, though it’s in vain. “Why are you so frigid, huh? When was the last time you had a good, hard, fuck?” he asks you, each word dripping like venom in a bid to make you squirm.
“That’s none of your—”
“Stop being such a bitch.” he tells you, slight laughter leaving him as he speaks. “Let me guess… got too occupied with your career, right? Bet you had a long term boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you properly if his life depended on it. ‘n then you got saddled with the kid… bought a vibrator and a plastic cock ‘n thought that would make do… you’ve never been fucked before.”
“Stop it.” you tell him. You turn your head away but he quickly forces it back with one heavy, dominating hand. “I have to go.”
“Sure.” he agrees, not letting go or moving aside for you to leave.
Nothing is said, not another word. Several beats of silence pass by as you stare at each other. The hypnotic music continues to play outside, though it’s muffled slightly by the locked office door. It isn’t enough to mask how hard either of you are breathing. Panting. Unable to break your stare from each other as the silence, that cogent fucking silence gets louder and louder.
Not another word is spoken as his lips press roughly against your own. You kick off your shoes and he kicks them aside as you continue to kiss him. Your hands are all over his body, grabbing and squeezing his skin as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips. He forces down your trousers so that they’re resting around your thighs before lifting you onto the desk. You moan, desperately, as he breaks the kiss to fully remove them from your legs.
He lets them fall and kicks them away in the opposite direction of your shoes. The kiss breaks once more as he laughs lightly as your hips begin to rock eagerly for him.
“Knew you were wet for me earlier, y’know.” he tells you, kissing you briefly before deciding to tease you further. “Felt how your cunt was droolin’ when I lifted you on here before.”
“You’re vile.” you tell him, not caring that much as you lock your lips with his again. His attitude, the way he talks, the way he is. It’s all so nauseatingly macho and you thought you were better than this. You thought you knew better and wanted better for yourself. But having it presented so perfectly for you… you were always going to succumb.
“You like it, you like me.” he continues, forcing your snow-white coat down your arms and off your body. The way his knuckles continue to gush blood, you expect the liquid to seep and stain the white material and paint it the same red as his eyes. “Mmmm, I’m right. Why else would you be so wet?”
The air is snatched from your lungs as he pushes your legs apart from each other one at a time. You don’t dare close them as you watch him pull his vest over his head and reveal his perfectly chiselled body in all of its glory. It’s pervasive. It’s gorgeous. You aren’t even sure it’s humanly possible to look this good.
A soft ‘unf’ sound leaves you and you feel him sink his bloody knuckles inside of your panties. Deft fingers swirl and tease around your firm clit, and your mouth seals shut.
“Tell the truth, princess.” he swipes two fingers over your clit at a heightened pace, desperate to coax another utterance of admittance from your soft lips. “You wanna get fingered by a dirty old man. Go on, let me be your bit of rough, sweetheart.”
“Fuck.” you breathe, unable to withstand his filthy mouth. You’re truly powerless to being spoken to like this. Maybe you’re tired of people speaking to you so politely day in day out.
He doesn’t respect you, though.
Right now you’re nothing but a wet, desperate hole, with a pretty face attached.
“Let daddy finger you, yeah?” he asks, and you can’t stop your eyes from filling with water. He thinks it’s adorable. How the mighty hath fallen for nothing more than a few little rubs on your neglected clit. It makes him sick, truthfully, how many precious little things like you go without being touched properly. You’re about to learn, now, just how quickly you can become addicted to a person and the way they touch you.
“I should- I r-really have to go!” you tell him, still so desperate to remain defiant to the bitter end. He knows you’re bound to crumble any second. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, but it will do you little good. Not when you are instinctively widening your legs for him. Wider than you knew they could go.
He pushes a single finger into you, hissing when he feels just how tight you really are. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume you were a virgin. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, constantly adding pressure to the needy nub as he continuously pumps and curls his finger in and out of your sopping hole.
“Sukuna! I can’t d-do this, I shouldn’t be here.” you tell him as you wrestle with your guilt.
“This is exactly where you should be,” he tells you. “You’ll feel better when you cum f’me. Maybe you’ll stop being such a stuck up bitch.” he laughs, again, because you don’t dispute it.
No, instead, you lean back and rest your hands on the desk. Your hips roll urgently against his hand, chasing the stimulation to your clit. He looks down between you, tugging at your panties with one hand until you take the hint. You stop rutting against him, closing your legs so he can pull them down without stopping his rough touches.
They come down enough, the white lace dangling on one ankle as he forces your legs apart again. His vision meets your cunt. The way you’re swallowing one finger with ease now calls him to add another.
And you hiss from the stretch, but your humping doesn’t relent. You’re taking his fingers all of the way to the bloody knuckle until your eyes cross from the pleasure. And he grunts, at that, an attempt to conceal the moan lodged in his throat.
He revels in the way your cunt clenches as he allows a glob of spit to drip to your clit. His jaw hangs low as he massages the heel of his palm into it harder. The way you wriggle from his touch is better than any drug he can imagine existing. It’s addictive, seeing a once so proud woman regress to a needy little pet from the touch of a common man.
“D-Don’t stop.” you whisper, unsure of where that even came from. It was entirely involuntary. Your brain begins to fog as he repeatedly batters your g-spot again and again until your vision turns white. “Fuck, fuck! ‘m cumming, Sukuna! Ah- aaah~!” you cry out.
And just as it was getting good. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he withdraws his fingers.
“You’re a real slut when you get going, aren’t you?” he smiles, landing a wet slap on your twitching pussy. You yelp, but don’t speak. “Barking orders at me like you’re in charge. Remember who’s office you’re in, now. It ain’t yours, princess. You’re spread open on daddy’s desk. Know your place.”
“I’m s-sorry.” you whimper, trying to focus and ignore the aching pulse you feel between your thighs. You need to cum, now. You need him to make you. It’s not fair, you can’t comprehend how close you were before he stopped you from reaching your high. “I’ll be good, d-daddy, just don’t… please don’t stop.” you beg, the title feels foreign on your tongue. But you don’t hate it.
He tuts, slapping your cunt again and again, repeatedly striking until tears spill from your pathetic, wet eyes.
“Fuckin’ love it when you look at me like that. Needy little whore.” he chortles, moving away from you entirely as he goes to grab something. “I’m gonna do something no one else will ever be able to do for you, jus’ because you look so pretty.”
“Wha—?”
“Lose the sweater, now. Wanna see your pretty tits,” he commands, lifting up the bag he grabbed from his locker earlier. “Hurry up. You need to be naked for this, you’ll enjoy it more.”
You do as you’re told, hurrying to strip yourself of the restricting material that has been suffocating you all night. And you toss it God knows where, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel cooler despite the sweaty heat that is trapped in the office with you.
“Good, good girl.” he smirks, unzipping the bag. You brace yourself for whatever he’s about to pull out. Some kind of sex toy, you assume. Knowing his ego, it’s probably a mould of his cock, hoping he can double stuff you.
But he doesn’t pull anything out.
Instead, he tips the bag upside down. There’s no time to think about what horrible things he could be pouring onto you. Because it doesn’t happen. Instead, you’re showered in bank notes. You laugh, excitedly, as you feel a never-ending stream over hundred-dollar bills pour over your body and onto the desk.
Sukuna laughs, too, admiring the sight of you dressed in nothing but money.
His money.
And it’s everywhere.
You writhe around on the desk before looking at him. He pulls down his sweats, hungrily, just enough to free his length. And, fuck, he’s huge. You knew he would be just by looking at the rest of him. It’s a scary sight, but you don’t care. He was right, no one else will ever be able to do this for you.
“Fuck me.” you request, opening your legs for him again. “Want daddy to fuck me stupid.” you finish.
And he doesn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers are shoved between your lips for you to suck as he lines his threatening cockhead up with your throbbing cunt. You’re too distracted by the taste of his fingers to properly react to how he stretches your hole.
The taste of copper stains your tastebuds along with the flavour of your essence. He watches you, intently, as he bullies his cock all of the way to the hilt without remorse. Though he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath while examining you, panting desperately when he’s fully sunken into your restricting walls.
“Took that like a champ,” he praises you, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and opting to squeeze the sides of your neck instead. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, swallowing me like this.” he smirks, thrusting his hips shallowly to help you adjust. But the composure is lost when he feels how tight you’re wrapped around him. Like you’re claiming what yours as if he belongs inside, buried deep in your cunt to depths no one has been before.
He's yours.
“Fuuuu—” you start, cutting yourself off as you pout and groan through every pummel of his hips against yours. “Daddy! D-aaddy!” you wince, unable to believe how perfectly each vein adorning his cock stimulates you so beautifully. His leaking tip serves as a painful reminder to how irresponsible you’re being to fuck a literal stranger raw.
But you don’t care.
You honestly don’t care as you think about the desperate desire you feel burning between your thighs for him to fill you up like you’re his. To be claimed in such a disgustingly primal way by this behemoth of a man while you just lie there and take it is the only thing higher on your list of priorities than actually getting to cum yourself.
“No one will fuck you like this again, hear me? No one.” he reminds you. And all you can do is nod dumbly as you can’t even find it in you to formulate one word on your tongue to say in response. “Not a doctor, not a lawyer. No one will fuck you in the money they earn like this. And you look so pretty, princess. Knew you’d like it, can act high ‘n mighty all you like, but you like the blood money, don’tcha?”
“Y-Yes.” you barely managed to squeak out.
“Yes what?” he repeats.
“Y-es, daddy,” you pant, forcing yourself to fix your eyes on him as you speak in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. “I l-like the money.”
“Little money slut.” he chuckles, the angle he fucks in you seeming to hit deeper and deeper the longer it goes on. “I should fuck you up against the window, let everyone see how fucked out you are. Hah? Show everyone you’re not such a stuck up princess after all.”
“N-No, please, don’t.” you beg, gasping as he pulls his cock out of you and drags you away from the desk. He pushes your face against the window and you instinctively close your eyes. Your back arches as he slots himself into you from behind, powerless to his body as he starts fucking into you again. And you’re so thankful for the blinds, despite the fact the ridges dig into your skin as he ploughs you. “Fuuuuck, ‘Kuna, fuck, s’big!” you tell him, feeling him deeper still as he hits you from behind.
“I should let them all see what a whore you are.” he laughs, fingers gripping deeply into your sides as he uses you for leverage to pull you down on his length whilst battering into you. “Pretty mouth is droolin’ for me, look like you’re gonna break.”
Your heart begins to race as he reaches for the cord to open the blinds. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s something he’d do. You brace yourself, preparing to be put on show for all of the lecherous men below to see.
But instead, he picks you up and forces you to bend over the table again. Your feet don’t even touch the ground as rams his cock into you again and again and again.
“Megumi wouldn’t be able to live it down if everyone knew how much of a slut his sister is,” he tells you. “He’d get the shit kicked out of him every time someone described what your face looks like when you cum.”
Fuck, Megumi.
You’d forgotten all about him, waiting in the freezing cold car for you while his pseudo-boss fucks your brains out.
“Don’t,” you huff, “tell him, about this.”
“Of course not, I’ll be your dirty little secret.” he laughs. “You are a vessel for my cum and nothing more.”
You’ve never felt such self-hatred for yourself as those final, scathing words have you cumming violently around his cock. You tremor and shake as you finish, collapsing entirely onto the desk as he continues to plough into you.
“Fuck, fuck!” you cry, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you as you think you might have pissed yourself. But he gasps, amazed, admiring the stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt drenching him and his money on the floor.
“Awe, baby just squirted. What that your first time?” he laughs, fucking into you harder so that he can follow you along in your bliss. He bends over, his mouth lining up with your ear so he can whisper more of his rendition of sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re shaking ‘cause of me. A-And now, you’re gonna have to drive your little brother home with every drop of my cum in your cunt.”
“Please, please fill me up. Need it s’bad. Wanna be full of you…” you babble, reality still not fully resonating with you as he carries on fucking into you at a brutal pace.
He grunts and moans as he cums deep inside of you. You’ve made some mistakes in your life but this has to be one of the better ones. Despite your healthcare knowledge telling you that you should know better, you’ve never felt so content as you feel him shoot rope after rope of searing hot cum into your womb.
He pulls out, wiping his dick off on your ass cheek before fingering you slowly.
“Keep my mark inside of you.” he utters, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together so you don’t waste a drop while he gathers your clothes for you.
He hands you your underwear first while he keeps looking, and you pull them up quickly. It feels so revolting and lewd as his cum leaks into the seat of your panties. You sigh as you feel the cold letter M on your chest before you can dress yourself.
“I don’t have a first aid kit here.” Sukuna speaks, not looking at you as he hands you the rest of your belongings.
“I’m fine.” you tell him, quickly pulling on your sweater and instantly feeling sick as the warm material meets with your hot, clammy skin.
“I’m not.” he tells you, watching as you pull up your trousers and fasten them in a hurry before slipping into your high heels again. “Bet you have one at home. You’re a doctor, you’ve gotta look after people.”
You eye him up, cautiously, before your expression changes to a smile. “You’re asking to come home with me?” you wonder, pulling on your coat and making sure you still have two phones in your pockets as well as your purse and Megumi’s wad of cash. “But Megumi will—”
“I’ll drive behind you. C’mon, princess, don’t want my cuts do get infected, do ya?” he asks.
You cannot believe you allowed his dirty fingers inside of you. As good as they felt, it was so stupid. You’re sure there’s probably blood stains on your inner thighs because of him.
Though the thought of him all over you makes your cheeks fill with warmth.
You just nod, opting not to speak as you head towards the office door. You walk ahead of him, finding confidence in your strides again. He puts his vest back on and makes sure he’s decent before leaving the office. He watches you leave ahead of him and stops to talk to his favourite subordinate.
“Clean the mess up there. And I’ve counted the money so don’t get cute.” he says, handing the key to the office over before following your path out.
He’s a little surprised how far ahead you’d gotten. Long gone from the building as you approach your car.
The guilt of leaving Megumi alone for so long got to you, he thinks.
“Hi.” you say, simply, sitting behind the wheel of your car and hoping not to have to talk much for the ride home. He’s a moody teenager who rarely has a word to say to you. And for once, you’re hoping it’ll stay that way. You adjust yourself and quickly put on your seatbelt so that you can drive off without another word.
“What took you so long?” Megumi asks, huffing as he looks at you. His eyebrows knit as he sees his bossapproach with a confident swagger. He wonders if he forgot something or he didn’t pay him the right amount.
Sukuna leans into his open window with a shit eating grin on his face. He wants to question it, to question you. But his eyes meet your not so pristine white coat as he turns to look at you again. “Is that blood?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he waits for an answer.
You look down at your jacket, holding your eyes closed with a sigh as you realise what a nightmare it’s going to be to remove the stains. Megumi leans in closer to you, moving your hair out of the way as he examines you.
“Um…” you mutter, too frozen to even continue starting up the car.
“It’s on your face and neck too. What did you—?” he stops, turning around to look at Sukuna and see if he can fill in the blanks in his mind with any form of answer. But they’re filled, instantly, as his eyes fall to see Sukuna’s bloody knuckles. “For fuck sake.” he speaks, quietly, covering his face with both hands as the revelation dawns on him.
“I’ll be right behind you, lead the way.” Sukuna winks as he walks away from your car and heads towards his own.
You don’t say anything, copying your brother’s action as you both sit in silence and absorb the never-ending supply of cringe filling the atmosphere. Until eventually you decide, this won’t do. Sukuna honks the horn of his Mercedes to signify that he’s ready.
So you start to drive, fleeing the scene while your partner in crime follows behind.
“Fucking good role model you are.” Megumi speaks sarcastically. “I can’t show my face there again. Why do you ruin everything?”
“Nothing happened!” you lie, earning a scoff from him.
“Let me get this straight. You came here to tell me to stop fighting, and then you fucked the man who pays me to do it. So, am I allowed to fight or not?”
“Obviously not, Megumi.”
“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” he scathes, turning his head to face away from you while he sulks. “You can’t tell me what to do after this. Some fucking moral compass you got there.”
“Oh shut up.” you respond, trying to keep a cool head as you continue. “Nothing. Happened. I watched him fight and I hated it, we talked it out and here we are. Stop being so pissy.”
“Why’s he following us home, then?” he wonders, turning to face you and see if he can detect an honest answer or a lie from you.
“He doesn’t have a first aid kit.” you tell him, which is true though it isn’t really an answer. And you feel his green eyes burn into the side of your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “I’m a doctor, he needs his wounds tending to.”
“… Oh my God.” he starts. “Oh my God you actually fucking like him. You’re so embarrassing.” he huffs, pulling a cigarette out of his jeans. He closes the window to light it and opens it again just as quickly. You’ve never liked that he smokes, but you know nothing you say or do will stop him.
Just like the fighting.
And then, you find yourself laughing. Unable to stop yourself as you think about what a stereotypical angsty teen your little brother is. And, God, you’ve made yourself into his biggest enemy just because you care about him. But now… Christ, you’ve gone above and beyond.
“I lied. We fucked. And it was great.” you laugh harder when you see Megumi’s horrified expression the longer the conversation goes on.
“I can’t stand you.” he sighs. “He’s never gonna let me forget this. What is wrong with you?”
“Serves you right, you little shit. Lie to me again and see what happens.” you warn him, your laughter lets up a little as you try and focus on being serious.
You’re never going to be his mother, and you’d never want to be. But what you can be is his big sister. You can be an annoying pain and embarrass him whenever he acts up. But you’ll always be here to take care of him and keep him on the right track when needs be.
“I love you, shit head.” you smile, and he sighs.
“… love you too… bitch.”
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© 2023 rinhaler
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m.list | chapter two
3K notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months
Note
spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3
im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭
ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k
cw for sexual harassment
"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over. 
"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?" 
"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh. 
"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?" 
"Top of your thigh." 
"Shit, really? Can you see my–" 
"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs. 
"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently. 
"Do you want my jacket?" 
"Don't cover it up, toots." 
You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks. 
"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction. 
"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one. 
Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse." 
"We were just messing around," one says. 
"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy." 
"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."
His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down. 
"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine." 
Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you. 
"You okay?" he asks. 
"I'm fine." 
"You sure?" His voice fries. 
"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants." 
Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–" 
"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad." 
"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you." 
"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk. 
"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here." 
"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures." 
"You shouldn't have to." 
"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome." 
"Right now?" he asks dryly. 
"Are you handsome right now?" 
"Are you really flirting with me right now?" 
"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning." 
"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know. 
You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?" 
He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you." 
"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?" 
His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup." 
"Just a small token," you say. 
He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want." 
"You sure?" 
He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper. 
He pulls you closer. 
You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone. 
"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today." 
He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it." 
"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so." 
"Hotch is pretty pissed at us." 
"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby." 
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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Hiiiiiiii
Could you please do reader x batboys
The reader gives a surprise kiss while smooshing their cheeks like they’re so kissable. —- The batboys could be rambling or whatever works for you writer.
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Dick was going on about something that you had forgotten about as you soon found yourself occupied by how cute his every expression was while telling the story, so much so to the point it was hard to contain just how much it had effected you.
You couldn’t help it as everything within your body urged you forward to squish his cheeks until his lips were puckered like a fish with a hand before planting a series of kisses to his lips and pulling away to a wide eyed Dick.
‘What was that?’ He asks incoherently from your hand squishing his cheeks.
You shrug, unable to find any logic to any of your actions other than wanting to shut him up with a kiss. ‘You were being adorable so I kissed you.’
‘You could’ve just asked for a kiss instead of stealing one, how shameless of you babe.’ He jokes as he rubs his cheeks after you let them go, unable to hide his smile at your spontaneity.
‘Says the one who loves it whenever I kiss him out of the blue and practically begs me to do it again.’ You retorted, recalling the time where Dick would follow you like a lost puppy after kissing him when he came back injured from a night of long patrol, you genuinely thought you were going to loose him and kissed him in the heat of the moment out of fear.
Dick huffs as he leaned himself into you and puckering his lips. ‘Gimme another kiss.’
‘No.’ You said.
‘Please.’
‘No.’
‘Stop being mean and withholding my kisses privileges and gimme.’ Dick groaned, pushing his face closer to yours as you chuckled at his goofy attempts.
‘Fine, I guess I can give you another kiss.’ You sighed playfully as you pressed another couple kisses to his lips, falling for Dick’s trap as he was quick to place a hand to the back of your head to keep your lips on his, just as his other hand sneaked to your waist and pull you onto his lap, smiling into your lips in pride.
Jason was telling you about the many, many stories he had regarding himself and Roy whenever they went on patrol together, but you had found yourself lost in the movement of his lips and taking notice of how plush yet slightly chapped they were, yet to you his lips were perfect non the less.
You were very aware of how attached to the hip Jason and Roy were from the times where you were greeted home by both men talking up a storm in the kitchen and laughing as they shared a drink or two.
So you weren’t surprised that at the height of their boredom they would do something stupid or borderline reckless to alleviate said boredom, if anything it was expected at this point but that didn’t meant you wanted either of them to come to harm, which meant that you oftentimes acted as their medic for these situations.
So while Jason was mid sentence you reached a hand to squish his cheeks and and kissed him on the lips before pulling away, rendering him speechless as he blinked once, twice and three times as though he were trying to come to terms with what had just happened.
‘Did-did you just kiss me while I was in the middle of trying to tell a story?’ He’d ask.
‘Yes, yes I did because you were being cute.’ You replied and Jason couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled you in close by the waist and resting his head against your forehead.
‘Do you not feel guilty of your crime?’ He asks in a low voice, his pretty eyes occasionally glancing towards your lips, causing a familiar warmth to flood throughout you.
‘No, in fact I’d do it again if given the chance.’ You told him truthfully.
Jason raised a brow. ‘Oh really? Would you then care to steal another kiss from me right here right now?’
‘It’s not stealing when the other person is asking me to kiss him while looking like he wants to kiss me himself.’ You said, seeing the way that he was struggling in holding himself back from acting on his wants and needs for confirmation that you wanted him to kiss you. While you loved the fact that Jason always asked for permission to kiss you, you sometimes wished that he’d just kiss you without a second thought like he had on several occasions, for you’d always say yes whenever it came to Jason.
Jason didn’t say anything but his hands on your waist tightened and you knew he was growing desperate for that kiss and so you squeezed his biceps and leaned in close to his face and said. ‘Take what you want and don’t feel guilty about it Jason, just kiss me already.’
Jason didn’t need to be told twice as within seconds his lips were on yours and everything in your life felt right and perfect the moment his lips touched yours, something you’ve jokingly called the Jason effect in the past, but it couldn’t be truer in this moment as you pressed yourself further into him and allowed yourself to sink into the sweet kiss.
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