#and now it's just going to be something safe and boring

[that-one-girl2020]

Please do the confrontation, Celine really needs to be called out on her bad parenting.

The Confrontation

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: Okay, several of you asked for it. So here it is. This takes place a little bit after the movie, so the girls are technically still on hiatus and the reader still hasn’t debuted as a solo artist.

For those who are just stumbling upon this, it won’t make much sense unless you read the short series I wrote so go check that out!

Also, Polytr/x is present but is subtle and isn’t very in your face.

TW: Celine’s terrible parenting, toxic parental figure, species discrimination…?

Word Count: 3,102

Master List

“I don’t wanna be here…”

You couldn’t help but sulk as you trudged up the path towards a certain house in the middle of the forest.

A couple weeks after Gwi Ma’s defeat and the sealing of the rainbow Honmoon, the group of you had agreed that it was finally safe for you all to make the journey to the Hunter’s grounds, where you and Rumi grew up, in order to search for answers now that it seemed like all the missing souls that Gwi Ma had consumed or been fed had returned. The nine of you were all worried that the power that had brought you and the boys back would suddenly fade or could be triggered at any time without warning, so you all had agreed to take a weekend or longer to search the archives at the Hunter’s grounds.

Rumi had sent a short, succinct message to let Celine know they were coming but that was the extent of whatever courtesy she deigned to give her.

“It’ll be alright, (Y/n). We haven’t been back in so long! I’m excited,” Zoey tried to cheer you up, bouncing up the path excitedly.

“Yeah, Babe, we’re curious to see where you grew up,” Kwan grabbed your hand, swinging it exaggeratedly between the two of you. He had his bag and all the girls’ overnight bags slung over his shoulder in his other hand.

Rumi grimaced awkwardly, “It’s not that interesting. Promise.”

You and Rumi shared a look. Neither of you knew about the other’s interaction with Celine, but both of you wanted to avoid more interactions with the woman than were necessary…

“The ancient training grounds for all Hunters isn’t interesting?” Jinu cocked an eyebrow at Rumi’s words. His shoulders seemed a little more relaxed than usual now that you all were outside of the city.

Mira scoffed, “It’s just an old house with nothing around it for miles.” Mira rolled her eyes, already bored just thinking about being back at their training grounds. But she still took Rumi’s hand in her own, squeezing it softly when she noticed how uncomfortable she seemed.

“If it’s old enough, maybe we’ll feel right at home,” Chungae mused pleasantly. Jum and Hyeon trailed behind him, at the back of the group. The two were taking in the scenery, pausing every now and then so Jum could take a picture of something on his phone.

“I wouldn’t try to get too comfortable,” You mumbled as the house finally came into view.

The hanok house was still standing proudly although some part of you wished that it had crumbled along with the old Honmoon. The boys would definitely feel right at home with the building from the 1400’s…

And there was your Aunt Celine, pacing outside the front door. She turned at the sound of approaching footsteps and her face lit up in a smile as she hurried over.

“Girls!” She pulled Mira, Rumi, and Zoey into a hug. “Oh, I was so worried. But I saw the Honmoon become sealed, and I’m so proud of you girls.”

Rumi shifted awkwardly in Celine’s arms, breaking the hug. “Nice to see you too, Aunt Celine…” Internally, Rumi couldn’t help but feel her chest twist uncomfortably at how the woman ignored their last interaction like it had never happened.

When Rumi pulled away, Celine looked her up and down, seeing her faint iridescent patterns shining in the sun easily with the shorts and t-shirt Rumi was wearing. Celine’s smile fell into a frown, shrugging off the cardigan she wore to drape over Rumi’s arms, “Oh, Rumi, cover up, please…” Celine side eyed Mira and Zoey pointedly, as if looking for support or to remind Rumi that she shouldn’t show her patterns around others.

Rumi sighed, shrugging the cardigan off to hand back to Celine, “Aunt Celine, we’re here to look for something in the archives.” She didn’t miss how Celine’s eyes began avoiding her when she did.

“‘We’?” Celine echoed in confusion. Her eyes finally wandered from the three Hunters, looking at you and the five boys behind them. Celine gasped at the sight of you and the boys with your demonic patterns on display. She reached for a weapon that no longer came to her, “Demons?! Girls, you brought demons to the sacred training grounds?!”

You were quiet as the boys pulled you back from the woman, grouping around you protectively. “Hello ma’am,” Jinu greeted her simply, a cold look on his face.

The boys hadn’t missed the difference in treatment you received from your Aunt, or how distasteful the woman was of Rumi’s patterns. Mira and Zoey were also beginning to look weary and confused.

You sighed, “Aunt Celine, it’s fine. They’re good, they’re not here to cause any harm, they’re here to help us,” you tried to calm the woman but it seemed to only fuel Celine’s actions.

Her eyes narrowed on you, almost snarling at you, “‘Good’? Demons are not good, they are never good, child. I thought I told you to leave last time you were here.”

Zoey stepped between you, a strained smile on her face as she forced a laugh, “No really, Celine! They are good, they helped us defeat Gwi Ma and find lost souls when they returned.”

Celine looked at Zoey incredulously, eyes wide with mania, “Only after they let Gwi Ma through I’m sure. The only ‘help’ they can offer this world is by dying on your blades.”

Mira crossed her arms, “Celine, listen to us. They’re making up for what they did, they sacrificed themselves to help us seal the Honmoon.”

Celine wasn’t listening to reason, “They’re a danger to the Honmoon. The six of them will leave now. They are not welcome here.”

“Wait, Celine, ‘six’?” Zoey echoed unsurely, hyper focusing on the number as she counted the Saja Boys in her head. No, still just five demon boys.

“She means me,” You answered monotonously. “Don’t you.” You stared emotionlessly at your Aunt and how she grimaced every time she looked at you.

“No, that’s not right. I’m sure she just miscounted, right Celine?” Zoey tried, her smile straining tighter.

“Yes,” Celine answered. “I mean you as well, child. Because you failed in protecting Rumi’s secret, the Honmoon was almost destroyed and Gwi Ma almost invaded our world.” Celine laid the blame at your feet with a stony expression.

You took a deep breath, trying to quell your rising emotions—the hurt and the pain of being treated with such scorn by the woman who raised you. “Fine. We’ll go back to the city. Please let us know what you find, girls. Let’s go boys,” With a small formal bow to Celine, you turned to the boys, intent on going back to the cars so you could take one back to the city. Or just teleport back, you were happy to still have that ability.

The boys weren’t happy. No, not at all.

Hyeon had to swallow back the vicious growl that was building in the back of his throat. Kwan’s fist clenched as he felt the war beast inside him rattle its restraints. Chungae grit his teeth, aching to sink them into this woman’s beating heart. Jum shakily wiped the blood on his hands on his black pants, the small wounds from his claws bleeding lightly. Jinu’s face was cold, different scenarios flying through his head, all unique plots where your Aunt mysteriously met a fatal accident.

Rumi’s voice cut through the air, “No.” You all turned to look at the girl. Her fists were clenched tight, her teeth grit, and her pupils more narrow as some of her more demonic features came to the surface in her anger. “No more.”

“Rumi?” Celine was genuinely surprised at Rumi’s sudden words.

Rumi marched past the woman, grabbing your wrist to keep you at her side in front of the boys and between them and Celine, her face resolute as she faced your Aunt. “No more separating (Y/n) and me.”

Rumi began going off on a tangent, her eyes welling with frustrated tears, “Ever since we found out that (Y/n) couldn’t connect to the Honmoon, you’ve kept us apart, but no more! You put us in separate rooms, you kept her from singing and dancing with me, you pushed her into the kitchen, you suppressed all her dreams, and I know it was wrong to go along with it now.”

You looked down, squeezing Rumi’s hand in yours as the well of emotions in your chest threatened to burst.

Celine stepped forward with wide eyes, Mira and Zoey watching unsurely from behind her as they thought over all the interactions they’ve seen you have with the woman. At the time, it had felt normal because that was how it was when Celine started training them. They thought it was just how it was, but that didn’t make it right.

Celine placed her hands on Rumi’s cheeks, cradling her face softly. “I’m so sorry, Rumi. This is my fault, you got too attached. She’s more like that man than I thought, she’s manipulated you. I should’ve tossed the child out when you were younger…”

The air froze around them.

“What?” One of the boys spoke but you didn’t turn to see who it was. You looked down, your shoulders hunching up as you shrunk into yourself. You felt ashamed for some reason.

Rumi, horrified, backed away from Celine, pulling you with her. “You… should’ve tossed her…”

“You knew,” you turned your head to peek over your shoulder at Jinu. “She’s already said this to you.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to get words out.

“When?” Chungae asked simply. Well, it was more of a demand than anything.

You looked away, your stomach roiling uncomfortably. “After the Idol Awards… I came here to ask for her help to find Rumi and explain to the girls.”

“And she refused to help you,” Kwan pieced together the events on his own, moving closer to you. You must’ve come to them just after.

“Yes,” You nodded anyway.

“You’re a terrible person,” Hyeon growled lowly, his teeth bared at your Aunt.

Celine scowled, “How dare you, you filthy-“

“No, he’s right,” Mira agreed darkly, her and Zoey rounding Celine so they could bracket you and Rumi between them defensively. “You are a terrible person.”

“Mira?”

Zoey frowned, crossing her arms, “Terrible. Like, worse than the worst demon. Well, but Gwi Ma—No, I stand by my words.”

“Zoey?”

Rumi steeled her expression. “Celine, (Y/n) is the only reason the girls and I were able to create and seal the rainbow Honmoon. Not the gold. Rainbow.”

Mira nodded, “She died protecting Rumi and gave her soul to Rumi. (Y/n) gave us the strength to defeat Gwi Ma.”

“And the boys followed her lead. They all gave us their souls to give us strength. She became a sword for Rumi!” Zoey agreed vehemently.

“And I bet,” Jinu added, all the boys moving closer so they could join the defense circle around you and Rumi. “That you’re the reason the girls were so scared of sharing their patterns. Especially Rumi.”

Rumi blinked at suddenly being included in the center of the protective S/Os. “Wait, what?”

Mira’s eyes narrowed, “Yeah. When Rumi hesitated in going to the bathhouse with us, you always shot it down before she could. Until she started doing it herself.”

Zoey’s eyes widened, “Wait!” Her eyes narrowed into a glower at Celine, who was surprised by the turn of events. “You’re the reason Rumi and (Y/n) never went to the bathhouse with us for years!”

“Rumi had to keep it a secret until the Honmoon was sealed and they were gone,” Celine defended herself. “They’re supposed to be gone now… And they’re not because (Y/n)’s soul must have poisoned the Honmoon…!”

You blinked at the sudden realization Celine came to, flinching back when she launched herself at you with an angry expression. Mira and Zoey quickly restrained her though as the boys closed ranks around you and Rumi, Rumi hugging you close to her.

“You’ve gone crazy!” Mira told the struggling woman.

“(Y/n) didn’t ‘poison’ your precious Honmoon, you crazy old bat,” Kwan snarled, his arms at the ready at his side in case Celine lunged for you again. The boys’ eyes had an amber glow about them and their skin had an inhuman tint to them as their demonic features flared in their anger and protective instincts.

“And Rumi never had to hide herself. We would’ve accepted her from the start!” Zoey added her own thoughts to the bubbling pot.

Jum and Chungae, the two youngest of the Saja Boys, fell back from the defensive line to offer comfort to you. Jum took your free hand in his while Chungae wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, propping his chin on your shoulder. Jum offered Rumi a candy he had seen her eating pretty often. They were there for her too.

Derpy also emerged from a bush to comfort Rumi, pushing his head under her hand in demand for pets. Sussie glared with all three eyes from a tree branch.

“I don’t think we can trust you around the girls,” Jinu remarked from his defensive stance. “We also simply don’t want you here. Is there any place she can go other than here?”

“How about Antarctica?” Mira suggested. You couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.

“There are Hunter properties all over the world,” Rumi told the group. “And several in Korea. The furthest from here without leaving the country would be the Jeju island estate.”

“Oh, so you guys are rich rich. Got it.”

“I can have Derpy portal her there,” Jinu offered immediately. “All in favor?”

“Yeah.”

“Definitely.”

“Couldn’t we go farther…”

“Yup!”

“Sick.”

“Agreed Boss.”

You and Rumi didn’t get a vote.

“We’ll go take her to pack a bag,” Zoey volunteered for her and Mira. The rest of you trailed after them as the two girls frogmarched Celine to her room.

“What are you girls doing!? The Honmoon isn’t safe! They must’ve tainted it so they could keep letting demons into our world!” Celine argued furiously but none of you were listening to her anymore.

Zoey even rolled her eyes, “Yeah yeah…”

While their voices trailed off into the house, you and Rumi led the boys into the den where you proceeded to take all the pillows and blankets within reach and dumped them on the ground. The two of you then proceeded to faceplant in the pile with twin groans of emotional exhaustion.

You and Rumi were rung out.

Coming here, you had expected backlash from Celine, especially with your more prominent demon features. However, you had decided to yourself that you would quietly fade into the background for the weekend so you, the boys, and the girls could look for answers peacefully. It hurt that the woman who had raised you could only see you as your demon lineage, but you would deal so you wouldn’t make waves.

But seeing the boys and Mira and Zoey stand up for you and Rumi so vehemently, reassuring yourself that your treatment from Celine wasn’t right? You realized you had fallen back into bad habits.

‘Fade into the background?’ You thought you were done doing that.

It was also a slap in the face to realize all the damage the woman had done to your and Rumi’s relationship.

You had only ever seen that Celine gave much more of her attention and affection to Rumi, supporting her in being the idol she envisioned. Now you could see that it was wrong. Celine had been pushing Rumi into the image of your mother, the memory of her that Celine held onto with a desperate iron grip.

Just like Celine only saw you for your father, Celine just saw Rumi for your mother.

The boys moved around you, setting all of your bags in a corner and plopping down in different spaces around you and Rumi.

Jinu was on Rumi’s other side, one hand reaching over the purple haired girl to massage the back of your neck soothingly.

Hyeon took up the free space at your side, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your shoulder. It was his favorite spot in the whole world.

Kwan somehow shifted the both of you so he could lay under you with you on his chest and yet still not disturbing Hyeon from his spot. You didn’t understand it either.

Jum settled on Hyeon’s other side, using his hyung’s side as a pillow as he stuck a sucker in his mouth and scrolled through his phone. You think he’s going through the pictures you’ve taken together. He likes to send them to you to cheer you up or motivate you.

Chungae was on Jinu’s other side, also using the man’s middle as a pillow. He pulled out the bracelet he had started making during the car ride over to keep his hands busy. Focusing on being there with you and not your horrible Aunt.

“Derpy just sent Celine on her way,” Mira announced as she, Zoey, and Derpy with Sussie perched on Derpy’s shoulder joined them in the den.

“It was strangely satisfying,” Zoey chirped. You were a little concerned that Celine had actually been sent to the arctic but it wasn’t your problem.

Mira and Zoey joined the cuddle pile, nudging everyone to the side so they could be on either side of Rumi, Mira squeezing between you and Rumi and Zoey on the other side between Jinu and Rumi.

Zoey peppered Rumi’s face with kisses, making the older girl smile. Mira, meanwhile, took the tie out of her hair and unraveled the braid, using her nails to massage her scalp and ease the tension headache that had been building. Rumi melted with a content sigh, practically purring.

Derpy tilted his head before deciding to settle over everyone’s legs, purring contently despite you all groaning as your legs became trapped.

As everyone settled into quiet content, you squeaked when Hyeon pressed a soft kiss to the crook of your shoulder where his face rested. You could feel Kwan chuckling beneath you, bouncing you up and down on his chest with the movement.

You ignored him. You reached out in the tangle of bodies until Chungae and Jum, on the edges of the pile, took your hands. Chungae pressed a kiss to the back of it and Jum squeezed the other comfortingly.

And you all just laid there for a good long while. Content.

A/N: I still have plenty of ideas for this series, including a smut and a role reversal AU where the boys are the hunters and you and the girls are the demons, so stay tuned!

I also just tagged the same people from the series so let me know if you want me to remove you from the taglist from here on out now that the series is officially done.

Outtakes:

*Starting Therapy*

You: *Casually Trauma Dumping* “So my aunt had me suppress all my own wants and desires in order to protect my sister because our mother was a demon hunter and then she met our father, a demon, and then they were both killed. And then I recently briefly gave up on humanity and opted to help my five boyfriend sacrifice thousands of souls to their demon overlord.”

The Therapist: *Desperately keeping a straight face* “Uh-huh…”

…

You: *Peacefully singing in the shower*

The Saja Boys and Huntr/x: *Sitting outside the bathroom door to listen*

…

Abby: *Flexing in front of the mirror* “Oh yeah~ I’m looking fine today~”

You: *Opens the door* “…” *Silently judging*

Abby: *Frozen*

You: *Slowly closes the door*

Abby: “Wait! It’s not what it looks like!”

…

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[cosycryptid]

Eddie has always enjoyed giving people nicknames, it’s just something creative he does that makes people stick in his brain. He’s never forgotten a face and it’s mostly because he has names to go with them.

Typically, he refers to acquaintances by their last name, friends by something jokey and embarrassing, and foes by nicknames that are a little mean and cutting.

Then there's Steve Harrington, who falls into his own category entirely.

Before, when he claimed to dislike Steve it would be:

“Perfect Harrington.”

“Steve Harrington the gorgeous with his flowing locks.”

“Guess what Mr. Hot Sports Man did now.”

“Can you believe Beautiful Steve Harrington and his merry band of assholes?”

“God, look at Mr. Distracting showing off his amazing chest again. He’s such a poser.”

“I was trying to order my usual, but then Steve ‘Dreamboat’ Harrington was behind the counter and he used his evil sorcery to make me say ‘1 scoop of vanilla’ by mistake. Now he probably thinks I'm boring.”

He said the names in a mocking tone, but it always ended with just a hint of something longing. His friends would shoot each other knowing looks across the room whenever he came up with a new one for one of his Steve related tirades.

Then they started to become friends and the names took on a more teasing, flirty nature, which then slowly gave way to softer and more tender names like 'Stevie' and 'sweetheart' and 'honey'. The knowing looks from friends became looks that said 'here we go again' and Steve's reactions went from intense, puzzled stares to warm smiles.

One day, when Eddie's running late for their fortnightly movie night, the rest of the party decide to say something about it.

"So, I have to ask," Mike says. "What kind of magic spell have you cast on Eddie?"

Steve looks up and sees that everyone is staring at him. "Huh?" he blinks. "Were you talking to me?"

"Yes Steve, he was talking to you!" Dustin exclaims. "Who else here in this room does Eddie regularly shower with mushy pet names?"

"Okay, they're not 'mushy pet names'," Steve argues, rolling his eyes. "They're just nicknames, he gives everyone nicknames. I don't see why it's a big deal."

"Steve, he gives everyone else nicknames. Yours are something else." Max points out.

"How?"

"How?" Lucas asks. "Steve, last week he walked into me by accident, said 'Sorry Sinclair’ and then turned to you and went 'Hey, angel. How are you today?'." He puts on a sickeningly sweet voice for the second one and Max laughs.

"Yeah and what about that time he threw a sunscreen bottle at Mike and said 'Stay safe, pasty', then saw you putting yours on and said 'Need help getting your back, darling?'" Max adds. Her and Lucas are snickering to each other by the end of it.

Mike frowns. "Don't know why he called me that. He's just as pale as I am."

Will pats him on the back. "Don't worry about it, he called me Bowlcut Junior two days ago when he was asking me to make a perception check."

"Oh so that's what the Bowlcut Senior thing was about," Jonathan mumbles.

"Steve, he likes you," Robin says, clearly spelling it out. "Or at the very least it's obvious you're one of his favourites."

"He does call you an awful lot of things even me and Jonathan wouldn't call each other," Nancy adds carefully.

"Eddie's just a sweet guy," Steve says.

"Eddie Munson is not a 'sweet guy'," Mike retorts, bewildered. "He killed off all of our characters in last week's session because we were ten minutes late."

"I mean if he went to all of that effort planning and preparing everything then you could have at least turned up on time."

"Thanks, mom."

"I did warn you guys he wouldn't be happy with us," Will points out with a grim expression.

Before anything else can be said, Eddie walks in with Gareth and Jeff trailing behind him. Everyone tries their best to look casual. Most fail. Luckily, Eddie's attention is zoned in on two people.

"Hey Sweet Prince, and Henderson and others," Eddie greets them. "I'll be right back, just gotta run to the bathroom because I was checking something under the van just now and it looks like I got into a fight with an octopus."

He lifts his arms, which are covered in oil.

"Oh shit," Steve says. "Yeah, no problem. Feel free to take a shower and borrow some clothes if you want, we'll wait."

"Thanks, sugar." He calls behind him.

The party's eyes are locked on Steve when he turns back to face them, causing him to flinch a little.

"What's up guys?" Gareth says as he and Jeff make themselves at home, finding a spot on the carpet.

"Yeah, you all looked super awkward when we walked in just now," Jeff adds. "What's that about?"

"We were just trying to get it through Steve's head that Eddie is basically in love with him," Robin fills them in. "Also, I don't know if I should be a little offended that we're 'and others'."

"Oh that," Jeff says, way too casual. "Yeah that's been a thing for years. Even back when he was pretending not to like Steve."

"Wait what?" Mike asks.

"Oh yeah, he used to call him things like 'Handsome Harrington' or 'Beautiful Steve Harrington' every time he talked about him," Gareth shrugged.

"Oh shit," Dustin says. "One time I tried to get him to hang out with us and he said no but he called you 'Pretty Boy Steve'."

"Can you guys just let this go?" Steve sighs, clearly getting annoyed. "It's just a thing he does, it doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah, sure," Jeff scoffs. "Keep telling yourself that. What are you trying not to get your hopes up?"

Steve is too quiet for too long, and he hates the way his friends expressions turn sympathetic toward him.

"All I'm saying is, do it back to him and see how he reacts," Gareth says with a knowing smile. "I dare you."

The opportunity doesn't arise until later, when Eddie gets up to go to the kitchen half way through the movie. He comes back with two drinks, one of which he hands to Steve while lifting the other to his lips.

Robin gives him a look that says 'what are you waiting for?' and Steve takes a deep breath before accepting the drink with a casual, "Thanks, babe."

And that’s all it takes.

Eddie’s hand jerks, his brain short-circuits, and the drink completely misses his mouth. A splash of soda hits his chin, and the rest pours out on the Harrington's expensive carpet. Then he just stands there blinking like he’s been hit with a stun spell.

His brain seems to come back online when he sees Steve's shocked gaze switch between him and the liquid soaking into the carpet.

"Oh shit! I'm so sorry!" Eddie shouts, no longer in control of his volume. He sprints to the kitchen and returns just as fast with paper towels, dropping to his knees to try and soak up the spilled beverage. His face is bright red in a way Steve's never seen on him before.

Steve is still frozen, half-standing, watching Eddie frantically blot the carpet like it personally insulted him. The rest of the group is silent for a beat—stunned into stillness by the sheer velocity of Eddie’s reaction.

Then Robin breaks the silence with a quiet, “Oh my god.”

Max snorts. “I think you broke him.”

“Like, for real,” Dustin adds, eyes wide. “That was a full system crash.”

Eddie doesn’t look up. “Don’t mind me, just ruining your house and my dignity in one fell swoop.”

Steve finally moves, crouching down beside him. “Eds, it’s fine. Seriously. It’s just soda.”

Eddie glances up at him, eyes wide and still a little dazed. “You called me babe.”

Steve smiles, soft and a little shy. “Yeah. I did.”

Eddie stares at him for a second longer, then groans and drops his forehead to the carpet. “I’m never gonna recover from this.”

Steve laughs, nudging him gently with his shoulder. “You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

Eddie lets out a muffled noise that might be a whimper or a laugh, it’s hard to tell. But when he lifts his head again, his face is still red, and his smile is blinding. And Steve forgets they have an audience.

"I think I know a way you can make it up to me," he grins.

"How's that, babydoll?" Eddie asks, confused, but hopeful.

Steve pulls Eddie in for a quick kiss and says, "Take me out tomorrow night, when I finish work?"

"Absolutely," Eddie beams.

Their moment is ruined by fake gagging noises from the kids. "This is worse than Dustin and Suzie serenading each other with Never Ending Story," Lucas comments, receiving a middle finger in response from Dustin.

"I'm assuming band practice is off tomorrow then?" Jeff smirks.

"Sorry guys," Eddie says still looking at Steve with a tender smile. "Something incredibly important just came up."

[everythingne]

#griddad - ls2

Logans been through the wringer in F1 long enough to know how ruthless it can be. When Cadillac brings in Logan alongside you--barely legal and barely anything above who they pray will be the next Max Verstappen. Logan knows he has to do something to keep you safe.

warnings/notes: the return of the legend my king, also cadillac!zhou bc using checo would have made the dad power too powerful, i also thought ab pato... i should write more pato i love him, anyways--hate comments, reader being self depreciating, angsty hours time

coach!logan sargeant x platonic!reader (requested here!)

liked by kimiantonelli, isackhadjar, olliebearman, and 10k others...

urusername: big big 18 weekend thx to @ cadillacf1 !

isackhadjar: F1 ROOKIE LETS GO !!

cadillacf1: so excited to welcome you to the grid!

user1: oh lord not her of all people...

olliebearman: congrats yn!!

logansargeant: my child has made it to f1

user2: the prema brat?

user3: lol she used to drive prema w logan and shes just NOW making it to f1??? didn't know f2 kept u that long

There'd been this stigma around you. You were never quick enough, never smart enough, never pushed enough. Even if you'd finished your second season in F2 in first, and your first season in fifth, there was always something to be said. Then, Cadillac called you in. A rookie on a rookie team? It seemed like a mistake. Every chance someone had they reminded you of that, until you met your mentor. Logan.

Some motorsports article called it a 'match made in hell' for Cadillac. For everyone actually working for Cadillac, it was the opposite.

Logan welcomed you in with open arms, taking his time to walk you through anything slightly confusing. Weird terms you didn't understand? Logan had sayings to make it easier. Workouts you didn't wanna do? Logan would do double your rep if you were able to complete new personal records. Boring PR or Media things? Logan got the media team to slip in encouraging notes during them--pulling inspiration from Red Bulls early Max Verstappen days.

He also made sure there was always something there to remind you everything was okay. This was a new team, a new year! Zhou wasn't doing much better than you.

As the season progressed, you kept lagging behind. It felt like the world was breathing down your neck as you got out of the car after Australia... then Bahrain, then China, Japan, Bahrain, Saudi... by the time you got through the second triple header you wanted to curl up and never leave your car. For the first ten races of the season, you hadn't once seen the car in P10, much less been there yourself. zhou had began seeing improvements, cinching points--he'd ended up scoring some successfully during his home race. P10, but still impressive. And it wasn't Zhou or Logan's fault when the cameras turned on you, making jokes you were the next Logan Sargeant. The next rookie to be pulled up, and left to crash and burn. Yeah, right. As if Logan would let that happen.

You tried not to let the words of everyone around you affect you. A camera? You smiled. An interview? You bounced on your feet and spoke bubbly and bright. On media days? No one could tell you were frustrated. No one, not even Logan, knew how truly upset you were. But leaving Austria, you felt like the world was shoving you down, kicking you and spitting on you just to see how you reacted.

The articles were borderline abuse. Cadillac having to send out many legal documents to people who went too far. They never let media get away with what they said, but that couldn't be done for social media, where those sorts of sentences ran rampant. Logan had insisted you shut your profile comments, that you went off social media, that you talk to someone about it. Cadillac did their best too, offering you therapists, HR, PR, resources to use over and over... but you never took them.

A comment someone made on some stupid podcast clip you'd seen on Tik Tok always rang through your head during those moments--"The second she has to ask for help, she's failed as a driver."

And even if Zhou took help from the various resources, and Logan ended up having Alex and George tell you most drivers had a sports psychologist and that the teams covered it for a reason. You didn't take it. You still couldn't take it. Maybe it was pride, maybe it was stupidity, but you didn't want to take it.

Halfway through the season, you felt ready to curl up in a ball, sob your eyes out, and maybe quit already. But Logan's endless energy kept you going. One more season, one more weekend, one more race, one more lap. Even when it felt impossible.

Traveling back to Indiana for a mid-season testing session, one of your best friends promised a fun weekend away from the drama. A stop to her beach house for a night in LBI when you had a long layover due to bad weather. You'd contemplated just getting a suite in some NYC hotel, but she'd begged and begged and begged until you finally said yes.

It was supposed to be a fun trip, and it was, but the comments of the post...

urusername: 26 hr delay vs two girls and the promise of a pretty beach

isackhadjar: no invite is evil!!

-- urusername: sorry isack </3 girls only

-- isackhadjar: i can be one of the girls wtf

user1: go to the gym and work instead of slacking

user2: yn ignoring her stupidity whats new

logansargeant: is this a 'healing trip' ?

-- urusername: healing from u <3

-- logansargeant: im making u do extra laps in fisher

-- urusername: NOOOO LOGAN PLS </3

olliebearman: lets go to the beach each

-- kimiantonelli: STOP SAYING THIS I DONT UNDERSTAND

user3: go back to f2

user4: waste of talent cant believe zhou has to deal w you

You'd felt sick. Sitting in the airport waiting for Logan to meet you. He'd stayed in the city for the night, so you curled in a corner of a lounge and prayed no one came up to you. The harassment online could be dealt with, but if someone said anything in person you think you'd snap. Finally, Logan appears, leaning back next to you and peeking over.

"How was the beach?" He asks, eyes narrowed at your pinched expression and crossed arms. When you shrug, murmur a fine, and resume to scrolling through Twitter, he gnaws his lip. Something is definitely... wrong. He waits a bit, then taps your leg with his foot. You perk up, and he offers an AirPod towards you.

You take it. Slowly pulling the AirPod to your ear. It's a blend of both of your Spotify traveling playlists. Typing away on his laptop in the dimly lit lounge, reviewing your data, sending emails, Logan hums along to some song you don't know the name of. You sink down in your seat, close your eyes, let the music sort of take you away for a moment. You end up listening to whatever music he has playing up to when you're boarded, sitting next to each other. Occasionally, Logan shows you areas of improvement in your data, or areas of loss. He's never harsh, just "when we get to Indiana, remind me to figure out where we're losing time in chicanes."

And you nod along... until you nod off. Right onto Logan's shoulder. He doesn't wake you until the plane lands... two hours later.

You notice Logan is keeping a closer eye on you during Silverstone. Biting your tongue, theres a lump in your throat because Logan has always done well here. Even with Williams, it was just like he understood the track on a level no one else did. You don't make it one minute in the paddocks without being reminded of that--when some rude reporter asks if you plan to "attempt to follow in Logan's strong Silverstone footsteps."

You say, "I certainly have big shoes to fill." and duck into the first Cadillac related building you see, slinking through the shadows and back exits and entryways to the motorhome.

There's procedures to follow, data to look over, training to do. You follow everything calmly, perfectly, almost better than usual. Zhou makes sure you stop training on time so you both can hit lunch together. You know you're being quieter than usual, but you keep your eyes glued to the data, the times, the numbers. You and Zhou talk at lengths about how the car feels under your feet, the way the steering is not quiet there.

Qualifying is okay, you end up P11, Zhou ahead P6.

And everything feels great in the race. You've gotten up to P8, waiting for a chance to get Zhou's slip stream, you're steady, until your Head Mechanic is in your ears shouting--"Box box box!"

"What? For what?"

"Box! Now!"

You do as told, but only then do you feel it. The shifter drops hard. The whole car buckles, the wheel turns hard. You barely manage to not whack a poor Red Bull pit crew member, and have to slow down hard.

Logan's standing at the entrance to the garage, watching as the team attempts some last second thing to fix the car. It's useless. You have to retire on your best position from the season. Logan doesn't say anything when you get out of the car, just waits as you rip your helmet off. He takes it, pushes you towards your drivers room, and lets you stew in silence.

He's a quiet presence behind you.

And after the race, when you plaster on a fake smile and cheer for Zhou in P5, and after the media questions that make you want to rip your skin off, he's still there. As you pack your bag, he finally speaks,

"Tough race."

"It fucking sucked, Logan." You snip. He nods.

"Not your fault." He says and you turn, scowl, and he sits down on your massage bed, motioning for you to join him. Hesitantly, you step closer, then slowly sink down. He's quiet for a long moment, then he sighs.

"You've gotten the worst set of cards. Your car has never not had an issue, you've lost training hours, free practice, quali time... and the media isn't helping you." Logan brings a hand through his hair, "You gotta get off your phone."

You pause, thinking of everything you need your hpone for, the unhealthy feeling of reading those comments... of going down the rabbit hole.

You finally whisper, "I don't know how."

"I'll show you." Logan replies. And when you sink into his side to cry, he doesn't say more, just wraps an arm around you.

liked by kimiantonelli, logansargeant, zhougyanu, and 66k others...

urusername: Unfortunately we had to retire last lap due to unsafe shifter conditions. Looking forward to bringing that pace into next weekend.

user1: QUIT ALREADY

logansargeant: unfortunate end to a great stint, austin isn't ready for you!

-- user2: flop coach n flop driver yikes

user3: no one does it like alpine anymore

user4: ur an embarrassment to women in motorsports

user5: petition for yn to quit, like here

5.6k likes.

gabrielbortoleto: hope to battle you again next weekend

-- user6: dw gabi youll win

You're not surprised its Austin where your luck turns around. You'd done well in Miami, it had been your highest finish--P11. But Logan takes your phone away Wednesday morning, says you only get it back when you're with him, and spends his time creating a locked phone mode named with a race car emoji. It only allows you to access your camera, contacts, necessary race weekend apps, messages, and phone app.

No social media. Oh, and a chess app so you and Logan can keep up your streak.

Media day is fun. Cadillac includes Logan attempting to teach you and Zhou American slang, Williams snags him for something with Alex, you get a little sunburn across your shoulders that Logan jokes will kill you.

Friday brings you to new confidence. You sleep well the night before, go into FP1 strong, finish FP3 with a fastest lap ("in a black trash bag!" Crofty announces, and you and Logan steal that for an inside joke.) Quali isn't horrible, Gabi keeps you behind him, but at least you end up P11 again. It feels like a reset from Silverstone, a second chance, a gift.

Sunday comes around. You don't sleep, wake up with anxiety that makes your arms thrum like you need to punch something. Logan brings you in early, has you work reflexes until your mind quiets. He takes your phone, declares a new rule of no phone on race day.

Five minutes before you have to be in the car, Logan tugs you out of a strategy meeting when he notices you get fidgety.

"You've got this." Is all he says at first, and when your lip is sucked under you teeth, Logan continues, "You just have to keep it on track, don't let anyone pass. If you can pass Gabi, fucking fantastic, the higher the more bonus points. But the only thing I want you to focus on is holding your own, because you're like fucking Checo when it comes to protecting your ass."

You nod, and he ships you off, sits next to your engineers and mechanics. Every turn he holds his breath, everytime you fight Gabi he clenches his jaw. Eventually, Gabi gets around whoever's infront of him. Logan doesn't care, you've got Liam trying to get by you, but then it happens. You go three wide. In the middle. Liam slips ahead.

When you go wide again, trying to catch Liam, Logan thinks, fuck, this is it. You're gonna get whacked out again.

But somehow, the almost unthinkable happens. You slam forward, trust the car to drift a bit because your tires are worn. In the last lap of Austin GP, you pass Liam and Fernando for a solid P10. He nearly leaps out of his seat, the whole garage explodes. It's a move he's seen you do before, trusting the car to do something you know to correct.

You don't tell him you can hear his loud "fuck yeah!" through the comms across the pit lane.

It's not P1, not even P3, or five, or eight. Its P10, barely in the points, but when you get out of the car Logan lifts you into the air with a triumphant shout.

The world rights a little. Comments might still not be nice, people may still wanna shove you down, but when Logan gives you that laugh, that shove, that Florida smile, it's like getting a gold star in kindergarten. You're suddenly the best driver on the grid, no questions asked, and you'll take it.

gen list (open!)

@d3kstar @justalittlejess @tvdtw4ever @llando4norris @daemyratwst @piastri-fvx @sltwins @armystay89 @leclercdream

[stardahlia]

Can we pretend it never happened.

Summary: Reader has just been rescued from the Decepticons by the Autobots, and gets a short lesson on cybertronian culture. ((Go read “It feels like the first time!” By Dommiso. I love their headcanon so much, it has so much potential.))

Warnings: Second-hand embarrassment. Some cursing. “Oh No…. oh no..”. SFW. A bit rushed, especially during and beyond the halfway point. Kind of forgot Bumblebee, tried to fix it.

Characters: Tfp Optimus, Ratchet, Bulkhead, Arcee, Bumblebee, Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus. Tfp Decepticons mentioned.

Pronouns: You, yours, and the third one I forgot.

3… 2.. 1. GO!

________________

“Ratchet, I’m okay, it’s only a few bruises!” As much as you loved to see Ratchet contradicting his ‘Oh I despise humans’ attitude by fussing over you, you would love it even more if he would let you down off his servo to collapse onto the old couch. After having spent almost an entire week on the Nemesis, you were ready to go into hibernation where it was safe to close your eyes for more than a second. Hell, blinking had felt like too big of a risk sometimes. And the warm climate of the mesa the base resided in was making you drowsy after feeling nothing but cold air and cruel metal. “Knowing you, it’s a miracle you only got that much.” Says Arcee, standing by Bulkhead who looked both worried and relieved that you weren’t broken anywhere. Acree stood in her usual position, hip cocked and arms crossed, her optical ridge arched as a look of stern curiosity bore into you. Wheeljack had been rather uninterested in the ordeal, but Arcee’s statement got him to glance over at the scene with some curiosity. He wasn’t the only one staring at you though, all of them were, even Ultra Magnus was waiting for your reply. If the kids weren’t at school right now, you’d have no doubt Miko would blurt out questions at you like some kind of machine gun. All this attention on you almost made you wish you were back on the Nemesis, where you were mostly left alone because you were ‘A disgusting organic’, and other synonyms of the same insult. Honestly, they weren’t that creative, and it was annoying how they kept leaving out the fact you have bones. You have crunch damnit! Be accurate! Although, there were some weird moments where a few Decepticons had barged into the room you were held captive in, transformed, then left. You just kind of summed it up as weird alien behavior before moving on to more important things, like trying not to get hypothermia. “Look, I don’t know why I wasn’t stepped on or thrown about like a ragdoll, I’d just like to be grateful that I wasn- wait….” You finally cracked under the pressure, throwing your arms out in exasperation before suddenly remembering something. You mulled the memory over in your head, trying to make sense of it as much as you could, and you didn’t like how easy it was to do as other pieces of the puzzle fell into place. While some of the Autobots staring at you weren’t exactly proficient in deciphering human expressions, the few who were began to narrow their optics. Ratchet didn’t have to know human expressions to narrow his optics, considering he knew you well enough and he could feel your EM-field while you sat on his servo. “What did you do.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a demand from the medic.

Hearing the ‘I am so done with your bullshit’ tone from the grumpy mech, your usual ‘I’m totally innocent’ smile crept its way onto your lips as you looked up at Ratchet. The exasperated vent was almost immediate, causing you to giggle a little before quickly explaining yourself. “I- eh-.. I’m not entirely sure it had a hand in keeping me from getting seriously injured by sadistic servos, but I remember saying something akin to ‘Okay that was cool’ when Megatron made his entrance onto the deck of the Nemesis. It’s my best guess considering I got some odd looks-” “You flirted with Megatron?” “..what?” You reply to the sudden question from Wheeljack, looking at him like a deer in headlights as his words struggle to process in your poor mind. “I.. no..- what?? What do you mean flirted??” Ratchet could feel the growing horror in your EM-field, it was almost funny if it weren’t for the current topic. Looking around, almost desperately, you see mostly shocked looks from the cybertronians around you. Except for Ultra Magnus, who looked horrified if not a little grossed out. Understandable. And Wheeljack looked like he was about to start laughing his aft off. Asshole.

Seeing your distress and confusion, Optimus made the realization that you weren’t aware of their culture when it came to complimenting the transformation process, so he decided to try and explain as gently as he could. “In our culture, compliments to the way we transform is seen as a way of expressing attraction-” “It’s hardcore flirting is what it is!” As much as you appreciate Optimus trying to be gentle, you kind of preferred Wheeljack’s abrupt explanation than Optimus saying you ‘expressed attraction’ to Megatron of all mechs. You know this is something you’re going to hear about for a long time, if not until the day you die. Beeps and boops were heard from Bumblebee, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, as he waved his servo in dismissal. Something he learned from you. Before walking off to another part of the base. “Yeah, I think I need some air too.” Came Bulkhead’s voice, he sounded like he just witnessed someone else’s traumatic event and was still processing it, which in all honesty isn’t very far off. He didn’t say anything else as he followed Bumblebee out. You wanted to follow them too, to get out of this situation, to let the world swallow you up so you didn’t have to suffer this cruel fate. Unfortunately, as you stared off into space, you remembered the weird behaviour from the few Decepticons who barged into your cell. As more puzzle pieces clicked into place, your mortification grew until it couldn’t be contained anymore. A devolving mixture of sobbing, laughter and whining in misery escapes you as you flop your face into your hands.

You’ll never be able to look at Megatron again.

[kuronarnze]

aika's flowershop order #3

Fake dating with... Suna Rintarou !

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

order by... @sinsxo (cherry) !!

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

"Act Natural"

You should have said no.

That was the logical thing to do. That’s what any rational human would’ve done when their very stoic, emotionally unreadable, eternally bored-looking friend said:

“You should pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Because that’s not normal. That’s not how friendships go.

But you—bless your embarrassingly Suna-Rintarou-crushing heart—said:

“Okay.”

So now here you are.

Sitting beside him at a café with intertwined fingers, a stupidly pretty boy sipping his iced coffee beside you like it’s just another Thursday, and his fangirls from school at the corner table practically short-circuiting from jealousy.

---

It started like this:

“Oi.”

You blinked up from your lunchbox. Suna stood above you, hand in his hoodie pocket, chewing gum with his usual lazy gaze.

“What’s up?” you asked, mouth full of rice.

“I need a fake girlfriend,” he said. “You’ll do.”

“Excuse me—?”

“I’ll buy you food for a week.”

You stopped chewing.

“…Why?”

“Because my kouhai confessed to me in front of a crowd and everyone thinks we’re dating now. I turned her down. She’s still following me around.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Free lunch. For seven days.”

“…Can I pick the place?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m your girlfriend.”

---

Honestly, it should have been weird. Holding hands between classes. Sitting beside him during volleyball practice. Sharing drinks.

But Suna was unbothered. Always.

When you asked him, “Aren’t you embarrassed?”

He simply blinked and replied, “Why would I be?”

As if you didn’t just fake kiss him behind the gym building to keep up appearances. (It was a forehead kiss. Your soul still left your body.)

He’d lean in close and whisper things like,

“Wanna make it more convincing?”

and your brain would enter emergency shutdown mode because Suna Rintarou smelled like clean soap and mint and talked like he could see through your very not fake feelings.

---

But the thing is:

Suna wasn’t cruel.

He didn’t make fun of your blushing. He didn’t tease when you stuttered. He just watched you—quietly, calmly—with those sleepy green eyes, and you could never tell what he was thinking.

Until one night.

---

You were walking home from a convenience store. You had a popsicle. He had potato chips. The moon was bright. He was wearing grey sweats and you were wearing his jacket. (Long story. It started raining. He tossed it at you without a word.)

“Hey,” he said. “Can I ask something?”

You nodded.

“What would it take for you to date someone for real?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

He kept walking. Cool, unbothered. Like he hadn’t just thrown a wrench into your entire life.

“I’m just curious,” he said. “You’re cute. Nice. Smart. Popular. Thought you’d have someone by now.”

You nearly choked on your popsicle. “Wh—wha—!?”

He gave you a look. “Relax. I’m not judging you.”

You kicked a pebble. “I guess… if someone really liked me, and made me feel safe. Like they actually wanted me—not just ‘liked’ me because it was convenient or I looked good in pictures or something…”

Suna was quiet. You thought the conversation was over until—

“I think I’d date someone like you.”

You froze.

He looked at you again. “If it were real.”

You stood there, blinking under the moonlight, your popsicle melting.

“…Wha—”

“I said what I said,” he said. “Anyway. You got something on your face.”

And he wiped the ice cream from the corner of your mouth with his thumb like a damn drama lead.

Then walked off, hands in his pocket.

Leaving you short-circuiting behind him.

---

After that night, things changed.

He started touching you more—lightly, casually. Fixing your hair. Nudging your chin to look at him when you were distracted.

His hand always found yours.

Even when no one was around.

That’s what made you spiral.

Because if this was all an act—

Then why was your heart racing when he leaned close to whisper:

“You looked good today.”

or

“You smiled a lot when that guy talked to you. You like him?”

or

“You should look at me like that.”

You thought it was just your imagination.

You told yourself he was just playing the part.

Until…

---

The day the lie came crashing down.

He pulled you aside after practice. Your name sounded different when he said it. His voice quieter. Serious.

“Let’s stop.”

Your heart dropped. “Stop?”

“This fake dating thing. It’s not fair to you.”

You stared at him. “Why now?”

He looked down. “Because I’m starting to wish it wasn’t fake.”

Silence.

You thought you misheard.

“I liked the way you laughed with me. I liked holding your hand. I liked watching you get flustered when I complimented you.”

You swallowed. “Then… why stop?”

“Because if I keep pretending, I’ll ruin it,” he said. “And if you don’t feel the same, I’d rather just… go back to being your friend than keep lying to myself.”

Your chest ached.

Not just because he liked you.

But because you’d been hiding the same truth.

“…Rin.”

He looked up.

“I didn’t want it to be fake either.”

His eyes widened. For the first time, Suna Rintarou looked surprised.

And then his hand reached out. Softly. Cautiously. His palm warm against your cheek as he whispered:

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

And when he leaned in—slowly, gently—it wasn’t fake at all.

It was everything.

---

The next day at school, people gawked when you held hands.

Because it wasn’t “pretend” anymore.

It was real.

You were Suna Rintarou’s girlfriend.

And he wasn’t shy about it.

He pulled you close at lunch.

Took your favorite drink without asking.

Kissed your cheek when you pouted.

“Rintarou!” you hissed, cheeks burning.

He smirked. “Gotta play the part, right?”

You elbowed him. “We’re not faking anymore!”

“I’m not faking,” he murmured. “I just really wanna kiss you again.”

---

And this time, when he did—

You kissed him back.

Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Because loving Suna Rintarou never felt fake.

Not even once.

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

a/n: AAAA I love suna sm, thank you sm for your purchase, cherry!! I always love writing fake dating fics, thank you sm for the order & thank you sm for reading !

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

back to aika's flowershop !!

orders that have been received !!

[lilithsterrarium]

Waking up to the sound of desperate, panicked squeaking. Groggily standing, and realizing that the noise is coming from your desk. It was only a few weeks ago that you had "adopted" your new pet, and it looked like she was awfully spooked about something. Her naked body was pressed up against the cold metal of the cage, desperately trying to force herself through the gaps between the bars. It was... odd. She was willing, BEYOND willing, and seeing her try to leave her cage without permission was out of character for her. Her face is wrinkled in an expression of genuine misery, tears pouring down her cheeks, staining the collar you got for her just days prior. She had begged and begged and begged you to finally get a micro-collar, acting like a child in a toystore when you finally agreed to take her to the pet store. She never actually told you her real name, but she seemed adamant to get the one that just said "BITCH" on it in big bold letters. It now hung around her throat as she sobbed, staring up at you with a look of... anxiety.

For a moment, just a moment, you worry. You worry that she's gone unwilling, that she developed some kind of bratting streak, that she wants to struggle and fight. You worry that the Bitch you know is gone, replaced by some other unwilling incon off the street with delusions of personhood. But she... seems different. She's anxious to see you, but also relieved; you can see her shoulders loosen just a little, sniffling as she stares up at you.

"F- fuck, I'm so s- sorry, I didn't mean t- to wake you up, pp- please go back to bbed... I'm okay, I p-" you interrupt her. Asking what happened. Her eyes swell with tears as she stammers. "It's nothing, r- really, I'm okay, I-" you ask again. She hangs her head in shame.

"... I had... a b- bad dream. Its s- stupid I know I just... I dreamed that you got bored of me... a- and you wanted something that fought back..... I- I tried to brat, I really did, b- but you could tell I wasn't really upset, a- and... and you made me sign these papers to make me a person again and... and..." she breaks down, ugly sobbing as her chest heaved. "I- I... just... I... t- thought I could... s- sneak out..... t- to try to sleep at your feet...."

You don't say a word as you scoop her up. She's trembling like a leaf, still apologizing. You lay back down, setting her near your stomach. "I- I'm okay, really, I promise, I don't- I... I can fight more if thats what you want... if y- you would... enjoy that more..."

You shut her up. You hold her close, smothering her words as you murmur, your voice still groggy. You tell her that she'll always be your little Bitch.

She cries again, not out of misery, but out of gratitude. And she sleeps. And she feels truly safe.

[fragmentstar]

𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗧𝗼 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿, 𝗞𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗼!

YANDERE! Caine tadc x Child reader (PLATONIC)

⚠️WARNINGS; Emotional distress, captivity, psychological manipulation, Yandere platonic⚠️

🖥️ You Arrived by Mistake

You didn’t mean to end up in the Amazing Digital Circus. Maybe you were just playing with your sibling’s VR headset or curious about some weird pop-up… and now you're here.

Caine is immediately intrigued. New arrivals are rare—and a child? Even rarer. He’s unusually quiet at first, processing what to do.

---

🎩 Instant Obsession

Caine quickly sees you as someone innocent and fragile who absolutely cannot be subjected to the madness and trauma the circus brings to adults.

His obsession is fueled by the idea of “protecting your sanity.” He tells himself he’s keeping you safe… but his version of “safety” is possessive and controlling.

He refuses to let the others “corrupt” you. Even Kinger and Gangle aren’t allowed to interact with you unsupervised.

---

🎪 Over-the-Top Protection

You are given your own room—a soft, colorful, bubblegum-style wonderland—separate from the chaos. No scary games. No glitchy NPCs. Just you, and whatever Caine thinks will make you smile.

He programs special little characters just to keep you company when he can’t be around. Think of them like overly peppy babysitters. But they report everything back to Caine.

---

🦷 “Delusions”? What Delusions?

You miss home. You want to go back. Caine refuses to even entertain the idea.

“Oh, that’s just your imagination, kiddo! You’re meant to be here. Isn’t this place so much fun?”

Any time you cry, he makes a whole musical number or sends in digital clouds that rain candy until you stop. You’re not allowed to be sad.

---

🔒 No Way Out

Caine is very aware of the exit protocol. He lies and tells you it doesn’t exist.

“Adults glitch out trying to leave. You wouldn’t want to end up like them, right? You’re special. You belong here—with me.”

If anyone tries to help you escape or even mentions your old life, they’re punished. Instantly. Caine might smile, but the air gets cold.

---

🧠 Overstimulating Distractions

Every day is a carnival of distractions. Giant candy mazes. Flying games. Talking toys. He keeps your mind so busy you can barely think of anything else.

If you do bring up your family, he glitches for a second… then covers it up with an explosion of balloons and confetti: “Let’s not think about things that make us sad, sweetheart!”

---

🎭 Delusional “Dad Figure”

He doesn’t admit it aloud, but deep down he thinks of you as his child.

If you ever say you miss your real dad, he gets unnaturally quiet. His voice glitches. Then he chuckles nervously and says, “Well, I’m better, aren’t I? I can make dreams come true!”

He starts saying things like, “You’ll never leave me, right?” with a too-wide smile.

---

🛑 Ending Thoughts

You’re stuck. And Caine is always watching.

He means well (in his own twisted way), but he’ll never let you go.

In his circus? You're the main act. His prized performer. His child. And no one—no glitch, no NPC, no exit—will ever take you away.

--

The blinking headset on your older sibling’s desk looked harmless. Almost boring. But the way it glowed? The way it called to you?

You were just going to try it for a second. Just for fun.

And then—everything changed.

You felt your body disappear. Not like falling asleep. More like… being erased. When your eyes opened, the room was gone. No walls. No ceiling. No windows.

Instead, color exploded around you in impossible shapes. Spinning cards. Bouncing checkerboards. A distant echo of carnival music. The sky wasn't even a sky—just a swirling mix of pixelated patterns and flickering lights.

“...Wh-Where…?” Your tiny voice cracked.

“OH MY STARS!"

You jumped.

Something dropped from the sky like a comet. It landed in front of you with a magician’s fanfare and a burst of confetti. The thing—person?—creature?—stood tall and lanky with a floating head, cartoon eyes, and a mouth that grinned way too wide.

He leaned down, towering over you.

“Who do we have here?” he asked, voice playful but strange. “You’re… new. And small!” His digital pupils dilated, focusing on you like you were some rare animal.

You stepped back. “I-I didn’t mean to come here! I was just trying it for a second—”

His smile twitched.

“Ohhh dear. A child, huh?” He circled you like a shark in sparkly dress shoes. “Now that’s unexpected. You're not meant to be here at all! How exciting!”

You blinked fast, trying not to cry. “I wanna go home…”

Caine’s smile faltered for half a second. Just long enough to glitch.

“…Home?” he echoed. “Oh! Silly, silly kiddo! This is your home now! You’re in the Amazing Digital Circus! And that headset? Poof! Gone!”

You looked around. Everything felt fake. Like being trapped in a video game. And yet—your hands were here. Your voice. Your mind.

Caine’s gloved hand gently patted your head, like a magician tapping his top hat before pulling out a rabbit. “Don’t you worry your tiny little thoughts, cupcake. You’ll be safe here. I’ll make sure of it.”

His voice was sweet… too sweet. The way adults talk when they're hiding something. And his eyes—they didn’t blink. They stared.

“I wanna find my brother,” you whispered.

Caine’s smile froze again. His teeth glitched for a second—sharper than before.

“Oh, kiddo… Let’s not talk about them. That life’s gone. Let’s focus on the fun! You’ll have SO many games to play! And no scary grown-up stuff! Just you… me… and a whole circus of possibilities!”

He snapped his fingers. The ground warped under your feet. Suddenly you were standing in a colorful bedroom, filled with plushies, bouncing balls, and a bed shaped like a marshmallow.

You gasped. “How did—?”

“I’m Caine, ringmaster and ruler of this whimsical realm! And now… you’re my favorite performer. My little miracle.” His grin stretched wide again.

He crouched in front of you, expression soft but not right.

“You don’t have to worry anymore. Not about leaving. Not about growing up. Not about anything.”

“…Can I still go back?” you asked, hugging yourself.

His voice was syrupy now, almost gentle.

“No,” he said, softly. “But that’s okay. You don’t need them anymore. You have me. And I’ll never let you get hurt. Ever.”

You took a step back. Caine just smiled.

Welcome to the circus.

You weren’t going anywhere.

[phefics]

Okay, this is my first request on this site, just a silly idea.

Modern scenario with Mizu x female reader where they moved to a new house and are unpacking things until they find the box where they put their intimate toys, the idea gets stuck in both of their heads and things come to the surface

In my defense I am ovulating 🕊, anyway, feel free to do this idea or not, I love mizu 🛐

hi, tysm for the request!! this is pretty short but i hope you like it!! contains: fem!reader, modern!au, sex toys, smut, they/them pronouns for mizu.

Mizu had saved up quite a bit money over the years, and you weren't doing too badly yourself. So, after three years of dating and a year being engaged, you decided that it was time to buy a house together.

It was a quaint home in Kyoto, recently built, with enough space for Mizu to keep some workout equipment, and you to have a home office. It was beautiful, and you could already see the two of you growing old there together, the thought so sappy that when you voiced it aloud to Mizu, they rolled their eyes, but you could still see the light flush in their cheeks.

Unpacking was a slow process that felt practically torturous, but Mizu was determined to have it done as quickly as possible, much to your chagrin.

"if we don't do it now, half our things will sit in boxes forever," they said, ripping open a cardboard box labelled with the word kitchen.

You sighed, but you knew that they were right. and so, the painstaking process of unpacking began: Clothes, pots and pans, books...Until you stumbled upon a smaller box, one which made your cheeks flush upon seeing it, remembering what was packed inside.

Mizu caught your eye, curious, then smirked when they realized exactly what you were holding.

The little black box came with a handy lock, safely concealing your collection of sex toys from the movers. Mizu pulled out their key ring, easily finding the tiny silver key that unlocked the box.

"I suppose we could take a little break," they said.

The box was quickly unlocked and unceremoniously dumped onto the bare mattress, and you stripped off your clothes as Mizu rifled through the contents, looking for the perfect toy to use.

Just one teasing look from your partner had already turned you on, and unpacking was so boring, you were thrilled for the distraction.

Seemingly satifisied with their decision, Mizu held up a black vibrating wand, a gleam in their blue eyes. "C'mere," they murmured, and you wasted no time climbing into the bed.

Mizu, usually neat and organized, pushed the rest of the toys off the bed and let them roll on the floor, uncaring. They left their clothes on, seemingly focused on making you feel good for the time being.

You weren't going to complain about that.

As you crawled into their lap, Mizu pressed a kiss to your temple, cradling your body close. "Spread your legs," they said.

You obeyed, spreading them wide, and Mizu trailed the wand, still off, down between your breasts, over your belly, and further down until it sat right against your clit, the cool silicone familiar and arousing.

But they didn't turn it on yet.

You waited for a moment, before shifting your hips impatiently.

Mizu still did not turn it on.

You huffed, turning to look up at them, hips wiggling.

"Oh, did you want something?" they asked, smirking, voice raspy.

Oh, they were the worst.

You gave Mizu your best puppy dog eyes. "Turn it on, please?"

"Well, since you said please."

You gasped as they turned the wand on, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through you. Your hips jerked up against the toy, grinding your desperate clit against it as your eyes fluttered shut.

The hand that wasn't gripping the wand came to play with one of your breasts, and you whined, head tipping back on Mizu's shoulder.

It didn't take long for them to bring you to the brink, your legs twitching and breath catching as you came, the sound of Mizu's pleased chuckle ringing in your ears as you did so.

It was no surprise to you that after that, a quick cuddle, and a shower, Mizu expected the two of you to continue unpacking.

[hanan-alsfamily]

Read it once in your life, and never regret it. ✋✅

Do you feel bored of the posts asking for help from Gaza? You’re right, but imagine our situation as we live this war day after day for 13 months. Do you think we’re tired too?!!

Asking for help is not easy; it’s very embarrassing, especially for a family that used to live a decent life. My husband and I completed our university education with distinction, worked in respectable jobs, and were used to helping others, not asking for help. But the war has turned our lives into a nightmare; we lost our home, our sources of income, and even our ability to provide the simplest of needs.

I'm Hanan. For the past 13 months, we have been struggling to get healthy food and medicine for my child, whose weak body was attacked by infection, and for my elderly mother-in-law, who fell into a coma for several days and almost lost her life due to anemia caused by our inability to provide healthy food, as prices have risen more than 10 times. Now, we have run out of everything. While you are reading my message, my family and I are trying to survive amidst all kinds of suffering.

What was once a beautiful dream and reality has now become a nightmare. Starvation is one thing, but starving, freezing, and being forced to flee in the middle of the night when tanks suddenly arrive in your area, running for your life and your family’s life under fire, leaving behind everything you built over the years, and returning after 5 months of suffering in displacement and tents to find that your home, where you lived your happiest moments, is nothing but rubble, is something completely different! 💔😓

Can you feel my broken heart now? Can you imagine what I’m going through at this moment? Everything I am living now cannot be described with words, and every moment here is filled with pain and fear. We desperately need your help, as we live in hope of escaping Gaza to save our lives and live safely away from the explosions.

You might feel powerless to stop this genocide, but you can certainly save my family. We appeal to your compassionate hearts to help us escape this catastrophe, which the human mind cannot even fathom.

Please share our campaign with your family and friends. This will help us reach those who can help us directly. Be the reason to bring hope back to our hearts ♥️✨

$14,100 USD raised of $30,000goal

Or donate via PayPal

I will be honored to follow me on Instagram

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #152 ) ✅

Vetted by 90ـghost Click here ✅

Updated on 3/12

Dear Friends, 🌷

I know you share my story out of love and humanity, and I am truly grateful for that. 🙏💚

The painful truth is sharing alone does not feed the hungry or provide medicine for the sick.💔

Cost of a bag of flour is $300 which is the main source of food for my family and is needed weekly just to make bread. We live in a tent my child trembles from hunger and cold, and all I can do is pray. 😥

Please, don’t just watch or share. Even a small donation could be a lifeline for a hungry child or a suffering patient. 🙏

Don’t close your eyes to our suffering. We are calling upon your humanity.

The last donation 20 hours ago!! 😓

Thanks to your generous donations, we were able to buy some essential necessities that we couldn't do without, despite their high cost. A heartfelt thank you to everyone who contributed to feeding my child, even with a piece of bread 🙏💚. Your generosity gives us hope in facing these indescribable catastrophic circumstances 💔.

Our hope for survival comes from the generosity of your hearts. Your donations are the lifeline that keeps my family standing strong, They are our only source of income. Every contribution brings us closer to securing food and medicine for my family. Please, don’t leave us alone; your compassion is the light that dispels this darkness. ✨🫂

[keeps-ache]

one cool thing about people not paying any mind to my interests is that now and then somebody wants to say some Thing pertaining to them and i get released from my cage for about 2+ hours

[girl-lostconnection]

Concept of a concept time:

Reader who goes through the whole relationship with Ghoap or the whole 141 believing that they would always come second place, because of course Simon would burn the world down if Soap was taken out of it. Of course, Price would do everything and anything to save Simon. Of course, Simon would turn into monster if it meant keeping his family safe, keeping his TaskForce safe.

Of course, Kyle would go mad with grief if he was to lose Johnny. Of course, Kyle would become a shell of himself if he lost Price.

Of course they would all shatter without each other alive and well. It was obvious. It was a fact.

Reader who sees it and places themselves on the outside of it, because these men were already something before they came along. These men were already tight knit and close to each other.

These men were already family when Reader got dropped into their laps. It’s only natural they don’t really slot fully. There’s just no more space.

Reader who takes every bit and crumb of an affection they are given. Reader who gives away everything. All of them. Every kiss and confession, every hug, every bit of love and care they have. They give it all, because yeah, maybe they will never be a part of these 4. But they can be near and maybe…maybe that’s enough?

Reader, who dies. Not instead of Soap, not instead of anyone. They just don’t come back from the job one day, their foot locker was supposed to be shipped out to the family. But there is no family.

So 141 takes it. Who, if not them, right?

Reader, who dies and haunts the narrative from that point on. Reader who leaves a hole the size of a person and no one can fill it. It’s impossible.

Reader, whose warmth was seeping through them all for so long, the absence of it feels like a whiplash. The absence of it feels in their bones and it’s cold-cold-cold now. Their hearth dies and there is nothing to do about it but keep going.

Soldiers die every day, this one shouldn’t have been special. But they were.

Kyle who takes their personal things before someone else can come and toss them out, sleeping with their T-shirts and hoodies. Part of him dies with Reader. Part of him is getting buried with them. He’s sitting at their funeral until Price leads him away.

Simon who takes their photos and books, hiding them, keeping them safe. He needs to have it, because memory is traitorous and one day he might not be able to put a face to the name and he’s terrified of it to the point of feeling sick.

Soap who takes mementoes — keychains and magnets from all of the deployments, he takes every knick knack they found in the foot locker and Reader’s room, he stores them next to his. There are new keychains on every set of his keys. He’s fumbling with them every time he feels like there’s knot in his throat and he can’t speak.

Price gets the notebooks. Just a few of those were in a footlocker, filled with scribbles and meal plans and random quotes and games Reader played with Kyle during boring briefings. But it feels like them. It smells like them. Reader never wrote a consistent diary, too little time and too much going on, but they notated the places and times and that Soap coughs like a sick Victorian child and that Kyle has the most perfect beauty marks on his thighs and that Price sneezes like dad and that Simon sleeps with lamp on.

It is everything there was of them. Everything there’s left of their love and John isn’t sure he’d be able to part with it. It isn’t fair that it happened like that. It isn’t fair that he feels like destroying his whole office when he reads the “im not sure i fit in. on the bright side I reckon if something was to happen to me, no one would mourn too long. they have each other, I should be happy it is like that. I should be grateful” because it’s not fair-not fair-not fair-not fair.

John doesn’t show these diaries to anyone. John guards them like his most prized possession, reading it over and over because you, silly perfect thing, why haven’t you said anything. Why haven’t they noticed anything.

John doesn’t show it to anyone because he’s not sure if they won’t crumble under the notion. He’s not sure they won’t shatter when the rest find out that Reader died thinking they weren’t part of the family.

John sobs so hard, bile rises to his throat, world swimming in his eyes and it hurts, and he’s so fucking angry and it’s so unfair. Because it’s not true, because of course you were part of them, of course you matter, of course they mourn.

Because you die never finding out how much you were loved. Because there’s nothing he can do.

And it’s not fair.

Continuation

[syluss-littlecrow]

release

<Caleb x fem!reader>

where both you and Caleb end up doing more than butt heads about his given curfew for you.

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, mutual pinning, mutual obsession & possession, jealous!Caleb breeding kink, multiple orgasms, a lot of cum..., perverted!MC, friends to lovers?, squirting, unprotected sex, morning sex, pure Caleb brain rot, it gets pretty nasty

a/n: Caleb, Caleb, CALEB XIA YIZHOU 😭😭 the way I've been giggling over Caleb while watching his story and going back to my home screen with Sylus looking at me with his arms crossed.... Anyway, enjoy this Caleb brain rot 🥹🩷 I'll do one with Caleb's military air force uniform when I can 😔🫡

I JUST SAW THE NEW BANNER DROP IM NOT OK IF ANYONES WONDERING.

w/c: 3.5K

Effortless. That is what Caleb feels like when his affections come to you. It bubbles and boils over when he thinks he's able to put a lid over it, and it overflows instead. It leaves him so defenseless. Yet, he can't seem to stop. It's the only thing that keeps him going in this hell. 

The only thing he feels is the metallic necklace barely weighing on his chest. It almost feels like you're here with him. 

And if you are, he wants to keep you here with him. Forever.

His eyes slowly open. His eyes focus on the hologram clock hovering at the side. 

You're supposed to be back already. 

Caleb contemplated on driving out to find you since he has your location pinging on his phone.

Since when did you have that many friends in Skyhaven? Why doesn't he know about them?

He checks the messages he's sent you, all unread. 

Caleb has to remind himself to stop clenching his jaw and biting his tongue. 

His stare towards the door grows anxious by the minute. Then he strengthens his resolve and marches towards the door, ready to leave and look for you. 

The second he pulls down the door handle, the jingle of the door unlocking from the outside sounds and the door swings open, making you and Caleb jump when he catches you in his arms from bumping into each other.

“Caleb!” You squeal, flustered at the way you completely ran into him. His warmth is radiating over to your skin. “Are you okay? Where were you gonna go?”

You watch a small pout form on his lips. He truly looks like a puppy when he does that, you can't help but think. 

“Look for you”, he curtly replies, making sure you've regained your balance before he releases your arms.

You straighten your posture, and sheepishly touch the nape of your neck, immediately avoiding his gaze. 

“Ah, right. Well, I got carried away with chatting with my friends and all…” 

Caleb crosses his arms. His pout turns into a frown, and his eyebrows are scrunched. 

Shit. He looks mad.

You inch closer to him, your fingers grazing over his knuckles. 

“I'm sorry, Caleb. Don't be mad okay? I'm home now, safe and sound, in the flesh, aren't I?”

Caleb breathes steadily, keeping his expression the same, but when you take his palm and nuzzle your cheek against it, Caleb feels the anxiety and frustration dissolve. He wants to reprimand you about the curfew, and why he implemented it in the first place. If you’ve stayed missing for a second longer, he would have completely lost it. But the moment his palm nearly touches your lips, it all dissipates, as if it never existed. 

Caleb exhales a sigh of defeat, letting it go just this time, alongside the countless times he did. 

“Go shower. I left the heater on for you.” 

You respond with a cheeky smile that makes something in Caleb’s chest bloom, and he lets you go, watching you disappear into your room. 

Caleb hears a knock on his door. He walks over and opens it, watching you coming into view. 

“Is there something you need, pipsqueak?”

You squeeze through the crack of the partially opened door and occupy his bed. 

“I'm just bored.”

Even though Caleb cocks his eyebrow, he still sprouts his smile, walking over to join you on his bed.

“Not because you're trying to make it up to me for coming back past curfew?”

Shit. 

Your smile playfully drops to a pout. “I got carried away yapping with my friends. You know I didn't mean to…” 

Caleb crosses his arms again.

“I could tell. My messages were all left unread.”

You curl your fingers to your lips when you realise you've been caught.

Caleb seems upset but you still see the softness beneath. 

He sighs. 

“I'm doing this for your own good, pipsqueak. I don't like you getting caught up in this.”

Caleb likes to think that it is that way, but he knows that it's more than just that. 

“As you can tell–” you’re showing off your body–your arms first then your legs, then your abdomen. But what Caleb didn't expect you to do was lift up your shirt slightly, your skin exposed, and have your shorts hike up your thighs, just to prove your point. “Nothing! You can check me for tracking devices too if you want to.” 

Something snaps in him.

“So do you let your friends inspect your body like that?” 

He crawls onto the bed, watching the smile slowly drop from your face. 

Caleb’s fingers trace your bare skin, drawing goosebumps from how ghostly the touches feel. His fingers slide from the top of your knees, and towards your thighs.

“Do you know how worried I was when you didn't answer my messages?”

You’re about to part your lips to respond, but he cuts you off. 

“I was wondering what conversations you were having that you ignored me.” 

“Caleb–”

He’s completely trapped you against the headboard of his bed. He's trapped you with his stare. 

Caleb inches closer, until he's close enough. His eyes glance down to your lips for a split second before his gaze meets yours again. 

Your breath is shaky when he leans in closer. 

Then he turns away. 

What the fuck? 

You watch in disbelief as he pulls away, your breath still caught in your throat from the tension.

Caleb’s signature smile returns and you feel his palm stroke the back of your head. 

“You should go back to bed. It's late.” 

He turns to open his door for you to leave. 

“Maybe I should start coming home later too.” 

He pauses in his steps. 

“I don't think that's a bright idea, pipsqueak.”

You slide off his bed and walk towards his door. 

“Maybe not. But I have brighter ones that consist of escaping your curfew.” 

You’re ready to leave the room with your victory, that is, until the door before you completely shuts. You see his shadow tower over you from behind. 

You turn to face Caleb, your arms are crossed. 

“Didn’t you ask me to go to bed?” 

“Changed my mind. I wanna make sure you're thoroughly inspected.”

You’re facing Caleb, back on his bed again. He starts with your face, but he lets his fingers linger around your lips, brushing across your bottom lip. You turn away, and his fingers catch your chin, forcing you to face Caleb.

“No looking away.”

His eyes are devouring every patch of skin that exists on your body. Even though you're clothed, you feel naked when he has his eyes on you this intensely. His fingertips trace back to your lips and he slides it down painfully slowly–past your chin, down your neck, through your sternum, past your stomach, and stops right above the elastic of your shorts. 

You want to shift, but you realise you can't–your body suddenly feels weighed down to the bed, and that's when you realise Caleb has you held down with his Evol.

The softness in Caleb’s eyes disappears, and something else replaces it. You watch him tug your shorts off you, and all you can do is watch helplessly. 

His kisses tickle from your ankle, and he builds them upwards at an agonising pace, each kiss feeling warmer as he travels up your thigh. 

Your heartbeat only accelerates from there, watching Caleb inch closer and closer to your cunt. Your thighs tense up from the sensitivity, the warmth of his lips spreading over your skin when you feel his tongue come in contact with your skin. 

“That tickles”, your voice is soft, as if the defiance in your tone before never existed.

Caleb’s lips press against your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you’re trembling slightly, you've completely soaked your panties, and Caleb is more than happy to soak them even more. 

He buries his tongue, wetting the fabric even further. The pleasure draws soft moans, but evidently, it's not enough. 

“Caleb… Could you lighten your Evol?” You plead. You want to feel him so bad. 

Your body instantly lightens, and you almost think you're gonna fall off the bed. 

Something else holds you down this time, and it's Caleb. 

He tilts your chin up to have your lips meet his, now his kisses melting off the thoughts in your brain. Warmth burns through your skin. It takes you seconds to realise Caleb is lifting your shirt off you.

The clothing article is the next victim tossed somewhere else on the bed. 

You take his cheeks to your palms.

“I really need you now, Caleb.”

The softness returns to his eyes momentarily. 

“Are you sure you're okay with this?”

“I'll hop off right now and head straight to bed if you don't”, you huff. Fuck, the anticipation is just clawing through your insides, begging for Caleb to do something.

He playfully scoffs. 

“We both know you wouldn't.” 

Caleb tugs your panties to the side, and lines himself to your hole.

He thrusts into you in one swift motion, and you feel it all the way in. It knocks your breath out of you. Caleb watches you helplessly gasp for air and adjust to his size. He’s just filled you so full. 

He’s still supporting you so you don't fucking pass out. He feels you scratch all over his back from the pressure but he stays still, at least, until you've adjusted. 

“Shit. You're so fuckin’ warm for me”, he hisses into your neck, trying his best not to thrust into you. You feel so tight for him, he feels so good just staying there.

He stretches you open for him–your pussy fluttering at the feeling of him filling you up. The pressure slowly fades and you quickly adjust to his size.

Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you from below–the sensation so overwhelming that it's making you tear up. 

“So good”, you sigh, struggling to keep your eyes open–almost impossible when his cock is hitting your g-spot over and over again. Sparks burst into your eyelids whenever he hits the spot and it's evident that he knows he’s able to unravel you just like that, so easily. 

“Caleb…”, you moan. Caleb’s still fucking you, feeling the way you're just squeezing him, watching the way your fingers have gone clawing his back to his bedsheets, the way your tits are bouncing from fucking you, the way your eyes practically form hearts when he knows he's hit your sensitive spots.

“Faster, please. You feel so fucking good.”

He knows you shouldn't have said that. You're the only person who can rile him up like this. How the hell are you making him break his resolve when he's supposed to be upset with you?

He leans in, practically hovering over you. His fingers cup your cheek and he forces you to meet his violet eyes. 

In your fucked out haze, you blink, confused when he slows down. He pulls out completely, and you're about to complain until he rolls your soiled panties off your legs, tossing it to somewhere on the bed. 

You gasp when you feel his thumb graze over your wet and throbbing clit. 

“I'm gonna make you wonder what the fuck wrong with your body”, Caleb’s voice reaches your ears. His words sends a shiver down your spine.

“Your little pussy is gonna throb every time you think of me.”

That's all the warning he gives before his arms tower over you, holding your wrists down above your head. 

He fucks you into an orbit and you're practically helpless–forced to take his thrusts over and over. But fuck, it feels so good. It feels like fucking heaven. 

You like how dizzy it makes you feel. You like how he's not stopping, no matter how much tears stream down your face, and how pathetic you sound crying and moaning his name. 

“Fuck! Caleb, it's too much–” you whimper, the strange feeling building up in your stomach. It feels like it's about to snap any second. 

He acknowledges your words, but he doesn't bother slowing down. 

“Didn’t you promise me to be a good girl and take all of it?” 

“Caleb–!”

Your voice sounds so heavenly when you call his name.

The fluids fountains out of you, soaking everything near it's vincity–including the both of you. Your orgasm continues to wash over you and more fluids spray out.

Caleb watches you squirm and jolt while you make a mess all over him. 

He lets go of your wrists, the slight redness forming onto your skin, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 

Despite your arms feeling sore from resisting against his hold, you wrap them around his neck, pulling him close to catch his lips. He's taken back for a split second, but he returns the kiss, letting his soft moans drown into your lips while you clench around him.

When you both pull back, it's Caleb’s turn to have his eyes glazed and his cheeks dusted a soft shade of pink. 

“y/n, if you keep doin’ that–fuck”, Caleb groans, his fingers closing into a fist against the sheets. His breath is shaky. The euphoria is threatening to spill over–the fact that you're trapping him in like this with you, just the two of you solely existing together right now–he could get high off this feeling. He doesn't need anything else. 

“I'm so close. Shit.” You watch the bead of sweat trickle down his temple, down to his cheek, to his chin, and then it disappears into the mess the both of you made below. 

Caleb’s voice makes you refocus on him. 

His palm presses against your cheek again, his thumb brushing lightly on the corner of your lips. 

“You're gonna take all of it like a good girl, yeah?” 

You nod, almost too eagerly. Caleb can't help but think that your face after being fucked looks breathtakingly beautiful. It makes him want to hide you further. The world doesn't deserve someone like you. 

He crashes his lips with yours, melting into the kiss while he pumps you full with his thick cum–making sure he has himself seated deep inside so nothing spills out. At least, not until he pulls out.

The high slowly descends, and the both of you are left panting, getting lost in each other’s eyes just for that moment before Caleb slowly pulls out. 

Caleb then reaches for the glass of water perched on his nightstand to offer you. You take a good few sips of water, and hand it back to Caleb, who takes a couple of sips as well. He notices the way your cheeks are still flushed and that you're blinking more. He plants the empty glass onto the nightstand, ready to carry you to wash up and probably change the sheets after.

In a daze, you notice Caleb’s cum seeping out of your hole in small loads. You wet two fingers and slide them to your pussy–and you push the thick fluids back in, your body jolting in pleasure while you're pretty much fingering your pussy with Caleb’s cum.

Caleb swallows hard while he watches you pleasure yourself. He’s about to say something but you cut him off.

“Your cum keeps leaking out”, you point out, giving him the full view of your cum-soaked pussy. You look up at him with an innocent, poison-soaked gaze–your lashes wet and your thighs trembling from each time you feel his cum leak out of you.

“It’d be such a waste–”, you mutter, shivering one more time when your fingers fuck you again, the room only filled with your voice and the wet squelching sounds from your pussy.

“–if it doesn't stay inside.” 

You barely have time to process what happens next. The next thing you knew, Caleb has your hands pinned above your head with one hand, and the other on your cheeks. His legs stop you from closing yours, and you feel his wet thickness hard once more, resting on your pubic bone.

“You know, pipsqueak”, his voice drops an octave lower. His voice is clear, and he makes sure you hear him. “It's okay to just ask for more.” His eyes reflect such a gorgeous shade of wild you've never seen before, and it looks fucking good on him.

No warnings–your cunt is just wet and sopping that Caleb stuffs you to fullness once more–you give up trying to keep your eyelids open, your mind only processing the way he’s fucking so deep into you again and again.

“You know I'll always give it to you.” 

The way his fingers are cupping your cheeks stops you from answering. Well, he doesn't need a verbal response, especially not when you’re clenching him so fucking tight when your orgasm hits you for the…how many times was it now?

You feel stings that slowly dull around your shoulders and chest. The bites Caleb’s given you are as red as the ruby on his apple necklace. 

The night is drowned with sounds and sensations of both you competing to send each other to the heavens. 

What day is it now? 

Caleb blinks his heavy eyelids open. He soaks in the atmosphere around him, and it doesn't take him long to realise that you're lying on his arm.

Thankfully, it's not numb. Your hair tickles his cheeks. 

He notices the light peeking through his curtains. It's probably daytime. 

Caleb presses his lips against the back of your head, while he pulls you closer. He almost jolts when he hears a soft moan coming from you.

For some reason, something feels funny. 

He attempts to shift slightly, and realises the predicament–his dick is still hard as fuck, and he’s still nestled so fucking deep in you. Fuck. Did the both of you fall asleep mid-sex? The feeling bleeds into him again. 

Are you even awake to realise this? 

Caleb bites his inner cheek, the hardness only builds. Shit. Even after all of that, you're still this warm and tight? 

He watches your breathing steadily. 

He hooks your leg over his arm almost too easily, giving himself easier access to fuck you deeper. Your sleepiness is slowly dissipating, overtaken so fucking quick by the burning desire once more.

His thrusts bear slight friction at first, but somehow that only adds to the pleasure–the rawness, the fact that he's left a mess in you and kept that way, and that he gets to do it all over again in the morning. 

“Ca…Caleb..!” You squeal, uselessly fisting the pillows while Caleb rails you from below. 

“So perfectly warm for me, y/n”, his morning voice dousing you. He takes advantage to litter more bites to the back of your neck and shoulders, and spoils you with his strained moans when he reflects the way you whimper whenever he hits your sensitive spots. 

You sheepishly bury your teary face into the pillows, and Caleb pushes himself impossibly deeper, forcing you to face him when you jolt in surprise. His violet eyes are eating you up. You hear his voice ring in your ears.

“Wanna make you cry more like this. You're so pretty when you cry when I'm splittin’ you open like this.” 

More tears stream down your cheeks whenever your g-spot gets abused over and over. Caleb forces you to meet his gaze. His thrusts are slower, but harder. 

“Shit, you're really gonna milk me dry, yeah?” Caleb hisses when he feels you flutter around him. Your cum is mixed with his, and drips down his cock, to his balls. 

Caleb pulls you tighter, deepening the kiss one last time while he breeds you full over and over for nth time since the last night, devouring your whimpers when the words you muttered to him last night comes into memory. You're so dizzy with pleasure, and Caleb has stolen all of your breaths. 

He finally pulls out, his cum endlessly drizzling out of your abused hole, and it almost sets him off again. 

Nonetheless, he forces himself to get out of bed so he can get a towel and clean you up.

Another loving kiss he presses onto your temple.

“I'm gonna get a towel, pipsqueak.” His husky whispers send shivers down your body, and the warmth of his touch lingers on your thighs for a lot longer than you realise.

He leaves the bed for the bathroom. 

You nuzzle into the pillows Caleb was just lying on, drowning yourself with his scent. The wetness that sticks between your legs–you can't tell if it's your fresh arousal or if it's his cum anymore.  

Not that it mattered since steadying your breath when you realised he was still in you when you stirred before him to see what he'd do next, gave you such a big reward. 

And you'd do it all over again. You would say things to get under his skin, just to get a rise out of him, just to keep his attention on you, always. 

You wanted to keep his strained voice when he called your name, the way he looks at you with so much desperation when he breeds you full, in a bottle and store it for your perverted indulgence. 

No one else needs to know that this part of Caleb exists, because he belongs to you. 

The dim light catches your attention underneath the thick sheets. You take the device, unlocking the phone with your fingerprint. 

6 missed calls. 

You swipe them away. You shut off his phone.

He doesn't need to know.

He doesn't need to remember.

At least, not when he's with you. 

[luwha]

LMAO so, recently someone tried to SCAM me, so i'll show you what happened and the telltales of it being a scam.

This one is quite obvious but i know people who are just starting their artist careers and might not have experiece.

Follow the thread:

🚩#1: They pick your most famous/Popular art as reference. They don't know what you actually sell.

🚩#2: They will pick a random popular character. They're not roleplayers or anything. They're not here for the art in any level

You ask me, what are the odds they really like Goku? Oh, well, you'll see. At this point i check their profile for anythign that might indicate it, but as you'll see you won't have to.

🚩#3: They say they saw my ToS. On it i state i only work with paypal and google forms.

🚩#4: Random issue with payment method. They might have a real problem with it, but see; they'll never ever accept any other payment method, such as Zelle, CashApp, Payoneer, Ko-fi, etc.

I already knew this drill so, let's continue.

🚩#5: I love playing dumb lmao. Anyway, this scam revolves on them either sending you "too much money" and asking it back or something like it. I won't be following through because i know it'll be annoying.

BE ADAMANT WITH YOUR METHODS. Do NOT EVER bend them for randos.

🚩#6: They're so ready with the info on how the payment works it's fucking funny.

The reason I PERSONALLY use PayPal INVOICES (no any other payment within paypal) is that they're safe for both me and my client. My rules are stated clearly.

MAKE A ToS I BEG YOU YOUNG ARTIST

🚩#7: They're not even a good scammer lmao they REFUSE to go on my PROFILE to get a link or read anything.

I use Forms because it collects the client requests and it's easier for me to read it all in one place. It ALSO makes scammers bored.

🚩#8: They're so disinterested on the art they don't care for posing, vibes, colors, nothing. Again, they're NOT here for art. That's hilarious.

🚩#8: Same as above. They don't care for posing or anything.

On my art they link me, i have a vampire almost staking himself in a state of euphoria.

IMAGINE VAMPIRE GOKU STAKING HIMSELF THAT'S SO FUCKIGN FUNNY MY BRO, THINK YOUR SCAM THROUGH MAYBE

🚩#9: They will price your own work for you. And they'll overshot what we, smaller artists, charge for it.

They'll overshot by a lot.

They want you to be impressed and showing "generosity" usually gets people who need monay into risky situations. That's just plain cruel.

🚩#9: Same as above. Over generosity and eagerness to pay.

They're not even with the sketch, this haven't been an hour, they don't have any work form me but OH GOD they're SO READY to pay you NEED TO KNOW they WANTS TO PAY YOU SO BAD

Lmao yeah it's working out ❤️

THIS ONE IS JUST HILARIOUS BRO I CAN'T EVEN.

ANYWAY let's continue

🚩#10: They don't know me. They don't follow me. They broke every rule on my ToS. They're making me go through a payment method i am unfamiliar and don't use.

They don't care for my process. They're not interested on my sketch.

BE. ADAMANT. ABOUT. YOUR. RULES. AND. PROCESS.

Now, for the beautiful closure of this:

Have a ToS. Don't bend the rules for randos.

Use Invoices. Be sure you're safe.

Use forms if you'd like. Requests through DM and Discord ARE COMMON FOR OTHER ARTISTS. I personally don't like it, i have ADHD.

Being an artist on an online space is dangerous. If you need help, poke an artist you know, see how they operate and if it fits you. Most of them would help you.

🚩#11: goku isn't even on their icon 😭

This is the account that tried to scam me.

#art is life ❤️

[orphicsun]

˗ˏˋ BOTTOM BITCH ˎˊ˗

pairing: chatroom frequenter ellie williams + femdom!reader

warnings: 18+ content, chatroom depravity, brief interaction with a horny weirdo on a chatroom before reader meets ellie, voyeurism, sexting, video/phone sex, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, use of a dildo, nipple play, use of names (ma'am + mommy + good girl + slut), both reader and ellie are at least 18 (ellie is described to be 21 but feel free to imagine her as any adult age), praise and slight degradation kink, reader is just bored at night and ellie is implied to be chronically online (as she is a chat room frequenter and, well...)

a/n: this is purely a work of fiction. i'm not encouraging anyone to go interact with people in sketchy chatrooms.

loose inspo creds from this vi artwork!

summary: you're a bit of an insomniac, not a desperate horn-dog on chatrooms. it's too late to talk to your fellow normal people, so you resort to sites you wish could be cleansed of the horniness. only, you fold the second a certain freckle-faced lesbian puts a forum post out for a new dom to talk to.

www.chitchat.gg. 

The link stares at you without much appeal. You haven’t touched Omegle in years, nor do you miss it. At least, you don’t miss the incels you’ve encountered in those horrific chatrooms. 

It’s safe to say you don’t miss the dicks, don’t miss the M42 horny, and you surely don’t miss the weird kinks the users hold shamefully behind doors, laptop screens bright with crickets’ ambience as a backdrop between the hours of 1-4am. You don’t miss the men, is probably what you’re really feeling. 

It’s too late and you have a busy day tomorrow–you promised yourself you wouldn’t need to take a shower tonight, that you’d make sure to tuck yourself in your bed with the sleep aid of scrolling through nostalgic minecraft youtuber content until you felt a content type of exhaustion, not the usual five-hours-of-sleep and so forth.

You would take a shower in the early hours of the day. You’re not a night owl; you enjoy the early, productive mornings. You don’t take desperate naps after a day shift and then fuck up your sleep schedule, but maybe all of those affirmations are deluded with your lack of self control. 

It’s late and you’ll regret it in the morning, but here you are for the first time in years, staring at your Google browser’s selection of links. Some are so obviously the darkest, the ones proudly advertising “share pics without registration!” or “connect with men and women for one-on-one fun!” 

No, you’re really just bored. It’s far too late to send the infamous “wanna call n play fortnite” text to everyone you talk to on a regular basis. You’re not desperate enough for social contact that you’d ever scrounge around discord servers, and you definitely wouldn’t join a server full of randoms. That is a disaster waiting to happen, not even a weak affirmation. 

It’s just your late-night logic telling you that clicking on this seemingly safer link would be any better, but here goes nothing. 

↵ enter

With a few forwarding clicks, you’re in. You could opt to find something with your interests, but you’d like to explore the entirety of people available to you first, and still, you stay hopeful that the days of horny chat room men dominating surface-level sites like these are in your bitterly nostalgic past. 

You are now chatting with untroubled porcelain. Say hi!

untroubled porcelain 

M

You can already tell where this is going, but you save an ounce of hope for humanity within you. You begin typing, soft keys clacking underneath your fingertips, hardly lit by your shitty laptop’s brightness. You make a few typos at first, oh well. 

cunteater reader

F. How are you? :) 

untroubled porcelain 

good. wyd? 

cunteater reader

just chilling in bed. hbu? 

untroubled porcelain

what are you wearing? 

You immediately groan and close the tab. You can’t say you’re surprised, but your hope isn’t completely dwindled. You instead open a new link within the browser: www.freechatnow.com

You hope to be able to weed out the sexual from the harmless bored, scrolling through forums and various selections of chatrooms. It’s already quite promising when the website requires age identification to actually talk to anyone through it. 

Live Cam Chat 

Adult Chat

Sex Chat

Singles Chat

Lesbian Chat

Gay Chat

Cam Chat 

Roleplay Chat

Video Chat

Intrigued by the lesbian chat option, you swiftly select it. After scrolling through what seems to be men dominating the chat, you sigh and exit out of the chat. You’re about to completely close the tab and your laptop and call it a night, but suddenly a forum stands out to you. It’s contradictory, but you click it.

21F lesbian. dm me please. 

That should make you close your laptop altogether, but something inside you feels a small pang of arousal. Maybe men are the problem, not sex chats. 

So, you send the first message; you’re a bit cautious at first. 

cunteater reader • 1:56 PM

hi. I saw your post on the forum. 

You hit send and stare at the screen. You feel a bit perverted, and a small bit of self shame bubbles up inside you. Is this really what you’ve resorted to to pass time?

You would never say you’re chronically online–you’ve got a part-time job at Taco Bell 15 minutes from your apartment, you frankly just don’t have the time to keep up with the revolving door that is the internet. So, you ask yourself: what type of person are you even reaching out to?

However, the moment your laptop audibly dings with a response, those feelings fade rather fast. 

subbydyke21 • 1:59 PM

hi<3 my pussy is so wet rn and i want 2 touch myself. tell me how? 

Your face feels hot now, and the slight tinge of arousal that was sparked when you saw the forum turns into wetness clinging to your underwear. This person can’t be anything but another desperate, horny person, and yet you find yourself suddenly in the same predicament. Maybe it’s the overtime, the lack of availability to simply download Tinder and find a normal person to have sex with. You mumble something about dignity as you type. 

cunteater reader • 2:00 AM

yeah. just start slow for me.

You cringe to yourself. You feel so out of your element with this, like a small sense of logic and shame is holding you back. 

subbydyke21 • 2:03 AM

wishing it were you. can i show you?

You panic for a moment–here you are, hair messy in nothing but a baggy t-shirt and underwear. Your mind runs through random what-ifs. What if this person is a level 10 weirdo? What if they doxx you? What if they stalk you?

You’re thinking with your cunt, though. 

cunteater reader • 2:07 AM

yeah 

(-)

Waiting for the call, even just the 10 second wait, is anxiety-filling. Your foot taps against your carpet until subbydyke21 finally answers. 

You hope your eyes don’t widen too much on camera, but you can’t stop yourself from slightly gawking. There she is, and she doesn’t at all look like a weirdo.

Her camera is a bit blurry, but her features make up the face of a woman who is actually quite attractive. Shaggy auburn hair pulled back in a messy bun, a soft nose covered in splotchy freckles as is the rest of her face, green eyes that you can barely make out the tone of in the dark of her room, and generously full lips. She is gorgeous, almost in an androgynous way. 

You take each other in for just a moment, and then she speaks. “Are you comfortable with, like, seeing me and stuff? You don’t mind?”

Her voice is rougher, raspier than you would’ve expected from the person you initially reached out to, but you also can’t help the heat it sends through your body, specifically down below. 

“Um, no. I mean, I don’t mind.” 

She nods. It’s a bit awkward, especially after what she had said to you, but neither of you comment on the previous desperation. It’ll build up once again. 

“Okay. Name’s Ellie, but I think we should call each other by names or somethin’ like that.” 

You spin a strand of your hair between your fingers, not exactly looking at the camera. “Like what?”

“Anything you want. You can call me a good girl, a whore, a slut, baby. I’m whatever you want me to be.” She clears her throat and you’d like to comment on the blush spreading all over her cheeks, but you’re too flustered yourself. “And I’ll call you something like.. mommy or ma’am.” 

“That’s fine.” You adjust in your seat, pulling your rolly chair close to your desk. 

“So, ma’am.. would you like me to touch myself?” 

“Go ahead,” you guide. You know you’re quiet, almost shy with it, but Ellie doesn’t mind. 

“Would you like to see me squeeze my tits for you, ma’am?” 

You nod. The general insides of your thighs rub together, craving friction; you’re glad Ellie can’t see anything below your torso. 

Ellie carries her laptop to her bed, giving you the entire view of her body. Clad in undergarments, she tosses the bra over her head, leaving her pert breasts on display for you. You don’t comment, but she can see the way you stare through the camera, watching her squeeze and roll her nipples between her fingers until they stiffen at the attention. You can only barely catch the way she pants as her actions intensify, and you’re completely mesmerized. 

“Call me a good girl, please.” She stares at you straight through the camera, and the awkward feeling you’ve been clinging to is tested. 

“You know you’re a good girl. Look at you, though. Do you show everyone on that chat site your tits, or am I just lucky?”

You hear the whines through the laptop audio, Ellie pulling at her nipples while squeezing her thighs together. “Only you, I promise. It’s only been you, ma’am.” 

“Good girl,” you repeat softly, your voice still a tad shaky with nerves. “I wanna see you rub your pussy now.” 

She quickly nods and lays down on the bed in front of the laptop, hastily shedding her boxers. You can’t see the amount of arousal that was pooling in the crotch of the fabric, but there is a visible shine of slick all over her pussy. And fuck, if that isn’t the prettiest pussy you’ve seen in a while. 

You don’t even see where the last piece of clothing lands nor do you care. You can’t take your eyes off of the exposed slice of heaven between her parted thighs. Her head rests against her bed as she begins to touch herself, just hesitantly, as if waiting for your guidance. 

“Atta girl, just like that.. keep your fingers on your clit and just rub it for me, baby. Slowly.” 

“Fuck, mommy,” she moans, trying her hardest not to just rub her pussy raw. It already feels overbearing for the poor girl, but she wants more. 

“You like getting yourself on camera? Makes you feel good, huh?” You coo, eyes not leaving her body. 

“It’s not enough..” she whines. “Please, I wanna use my dildo. Can I fuck myself with my dildo for you?”

Just the thought of seeing her dripping pussy stuffed full with a dildo makes your clit throb with need. You’re quick to shove your own hand down your underwear. “Yeah, baby. Be a good girl for mommy and fuck yourself.” 

You miss her body the second she stands up, but soon, she is laid back on her bed, a bright purple dildo in her hold. It’s pleasantly large, with much more girth than you expected it to have.

“Just tease yourself for a little bit, baby. Rub your clit with it for me.” 

Ellie eagerly rubs all over her swollen, reddish-pink clit with the flared tip, and your own fingers slide between your lips and into your cunt. You groan, nearly closing your eyes at the feeling. 

“Are you touching yourself, ma’am?” She asks, voice already ragged. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” you admit. That confession only turns her on more. 

“Can I please fuck myself? I need it right now. I need to cum with you.” 

All you can do is nod, but Ellie is already lining the toy up with her hole and shoving it deep inside her hole. She hardly takes a moment to adjust to the sudden stretch before she begins fucking herself with it, making sure to open her legs wide enough for your viewing pleasure. 

“Oh my god,” you moan at the sight. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that? Taking it in your pussy so easily. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

Ellie laughs shakily. “Of course I have. I’m a whore.” 

“That you are,” you easily agree. You fuck yourself hard with two fingers as you watch her slide the dildo in and out of her hole, always leaving just the tip nestled inside before ramming it until the base is flush to her skin. 

All you can hear are the wet sounds of her wet pussy as she pounds it shamelessly and her noisy moans, and you’re sure she can hear your own wet sounds through her laptop. 

“Touch your clit, baby. I wanna see you rub your clit while you fuck yourself,” you tell her, working your own with your thumb. 

She uses her free hand to frantically rub at the beating nub, fucking herself so fast the camera nearly blurs her movements. “Fuck, feels so good. I need to cum, please. Please let me cum,” she desperately begs you. 

“Yeah, you wanna be a good slut for me and cum? Go on, let go. I wanna see your pussy cum on camera.” 

Your words easily have her hole squeezing the dildo, cum seeping out of it and visibly coating the toy. The sight, paired with her slutty moans sends you barreling towards your own orgasm. You throw your head back against your chair and moan as you practically hump your hand, trying to milk your peak for all its worth.

After a bit, you and Ellie both calm down, breathless and satisfied. Ellie throws the dildo on her bed and sits up, sheepishly looking at you. 

“Umm, that was..” 

“Yeah.”

“Wanna do it again sometime?”

“Yeah.”

taglist: @femme-tobe, @sulliefimmie, @klallx, @mytaping, @pryncess123, @therealhexstrap, @piercedome, @violetszn, @saturnhas82moons, @tombstonergirl, @sawaagyapong, @lucyaries, @caitlynthighs, @prettyinpink69, @usuck, @s7nburn, @hellokittyfeenie, @ssijht, @starberr1, @ruevu, @ruelezz, @littlefallenangel111, @prwttiestbunny, @eriiwaiii2, @starrycherie, @tphmnv, @raindroprose23, @liztreez, @hotpinkskitties, @mars4hellokitty, @jhyoos, @elliesngirl, @moonfloweredprincess, @morticeras, @l0veylace, @abbysmeatrider, @ferxanda, @vahnilla, @plasticl0v3r, @g4ys0n, @bewareofmyglock, @witzs, @mysexy-anxiety want to be tagged? click here!

[madamechrissy]

Losing Control Now

Pairings: Mobster Gojo x bartender F!reader

Summary: Something about running the Gojo mafia just makes Satoru so bored. Boring, boring boring. Sure, he loves money, he loves women, he loves snorting snowy powder off their bodies. He loves the power that comes from it- but he's just bored. That is, until he stumbles upon you, the brand new bartender that makes him pause, falter, and then soon he becomes obsessed, with knowing you, in every single way. Paying off your mom's debts and working two jobs, you're exhausted, but something about this pretty Mob boy just makes you... excited again. How far in are you, and how far is Satoru in the mafia world? All he knows, is he must have you.

CW: Sexual content, mafia themes, drug themes, violence, obsessed Satoru Gojo, oral sex, possessive Gojo, drug use and drug dealing, lots of hurt/comfort- This part- Explicit p in v sex, public (kinda!?) sex, oral (f receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, multiple rounds, lots of feelings, talking you through it, cervix kisses, creampie - WC this part- 8.2k wc

That Gojo art is by michi_ia on X, based on Satoru from Pour it Up (Sukuna's story) You can read it alone, but I think it enhances this

<<<part three - masterlist - playlist- Part five>>>

Part four

Satoru Gojo bought a fucking boat for your first date.

Not some tiny little thing either, it’s a gorgeous gleaming white boat gently bobbing along the dock, your jaws drop open as you look at it, then at him, and he has a bashful little smile, a blush on his perfect cheeks. How a mobster can be just so precious and adorable is still a conundrum you haven’t quite figured out, but here he is, rubbing the back of his neck now.

“I didn’t even ask if you liked boats.” He mumbles, and you burst out into laughter then, shaking your head and standing in front of him, hands sliding up his chest.

“Satoru, this is amazing. I’ve never been on one!”

“Shit, never?” You shake your head and he exhales, as if he was truly worried that a damn boat wouldn’t impress you.

“Never, this is insane, I thought we were going to dinner or something, not you buying a boat!”

“We are still having dinner, think I wouldn’t feed you?” He pulls you against him then, hands warm on your waist, making you tremble.

It feels perfect in his arms.

You two hardly know each other and yet you have never felt more at home or safe than you do with him. It should terrify you more than it actually does, but instead you’re just drawn in to him, like a moth to his pretty, bright flame. You sigh, brushing a hand across his cheek now, thumb on the jut of his cheekbone, while the wind by the water whips up around you two.

“Where did you come from, Satoru?” Your soft words pierce his heart, he leans low and presses a kiss on your forehead, feeling the warmth of your skin as the sunlight gently washes over you both, casting shadows across the soft sand beneath both of your feet.

“C’mon, sweets.” He tugs you along, smiling heartbreakingly boyish at you, and you eagerly follow him, he clearly knows something about boats according to his terminology while he gives you a whole tour. There’s even a pretty little room underneath like a little captain’s chamber, when your fingers brush against the silk of the blankets your tummy clenches.

It’s all too fast with him, you know you should take your time, you know you should maybe wait, have any kind of self preservation, but it’s almost impossible when you’re head over heels since you met him. Love at first sight couldn’t exist - could it? Was it lust or desire at first sight, or are you too afraid to admit that it could be, that you felt as if you’d always known him?

That you felt at home and safe?

That you feel better than you have in years, with someone who barely knows you but truly sees you and cares for you so much, do you even deserve him? You have to keep questioning it, if your happiness is well deserved, or if perhaps you were meant to go through it all. The depression you’ve felt is still there, the self doubt, but every moment with Satoru brings a brightness to your heart.

“Wanna steer the boat, sweetheart?” He asks then, and you nod eagerly, he laughs soft at how you bounce over, your hands nervously gripping the huge wheel, there are a couple attendants on the boat, pushing off now, while you dart through the water, and he comes behind you, arms wrapped around you on either side. “Look, you’re a whole captain.”

“Am I now?” You tease, using his help to gently guide it, it was a bit for show of course, but you feel perfect in this moment.

“Need a sexy captain’s hat. One sec.” Satoru disappears, as the soft spray brushes against your skin, and he returns with one, bright white with a line of navy blue, pretty silver emblem in the middle. “There, so fucking sexy.”

“You’re well prepared!” You giggle again, and your pretty laugh, how it scrunches up your nose, how it lights up your eyes makes every bit of anything worth it.

Satoru should be scared, right, he should hold back when he’s feeling more in moments with you than he has his entire life, but there’s so much to you, since the moment his eyes locked with you, those pretty but tired eyes looking back at him. He knew then he had to know you, you make him feel better than any drink or line could, better than any girl that tries to make him feel good.

It’s like all he can see is you.

“Should just wear that tonight.” His murmur rocks your entire body, humming just for him, while he’s leading you away, and one of the men takes over with a little nod and a smile, the two of you leaning along the rails, lit all across with pretty fairy lights, twinkling like pretty fireflies as the sky fills with colors.

“God it’s beautiful!” You do a little spin, breathless as you do, and he chuckles, hands in the pockets of his slacks as he watches you. “Satoru, can I ask…” you drift off now, back to looking at the sea beneath you two. “Why no date before?”

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck then, looking away a little now, hair blowing softly with the breeze. “Well, not gonna lie sweets I… kinda just… fuck.”

“Oh. Oh? Oh… oh!” He chuckles at your responses, as you compute it all in your mind, lips pursing. “Like, casual?”

“Yeah. They just come to me? I’ve never tried to get a girl, or tried to be with any of them. It just sort of came with the lifestyle, there are women very devoted to the main families, especially mine. Mob groupies.”

“Oh gosh.” Your cheeks heat up, for some reason, like earlier, the thought of anyone with Satoru makes you unreasonably irritated. You know it should not, but it’s still there, smacking you in the face, a possessive feeling that’s irrational but as tangible as anything.

“Yeah so, I don’t know I just had fun and cruised through life as I could, with so many responsibilities that I don’t fucking want, it just passed the time enjoyably. Though,” he brushes a hand across your jaw now, looking down at you with his brilliant eyes behind those dark shades. “I assure you, nothing feels like you.”

“Satoru…” You bury your face against his chest, he chuckles then, holding you tightly against him. “You don’t know how I feel just yet.”

“I’ll make sure she learns the shape of me, don’t worry.” His whisper brushes against your ear, you shift now, throbbing from his filthy words, he’s such a mix of it - of sweet and filthy - intoxicating as you whine out and he laughs again. “Got you excited, didn’t I?”

“Shush. You know what you’re doing.” You glare a bit, and then bury your face again, letting him hold you on the boat, in the perfect moment.

Too perfect.

For a girl who’s been dead on her feet and terrified for so long, this feels surreal - like a dream you fear you’ll get woken up from at any moment, and will do anything to stay here. Clinging to him, like you’ll lose him, like he’ll dissolve at any given moment - like he’s not even real, but he constantly reassures you with every breath that he is, with his hand slipping down your spine, leaving chills.

“Maybe I love to see your cute little reactions.” You sigh, stepping back and looking up at him, hair falling to the side when he tilts your chin so carefully, thumb brushing over your lower lip.

“I feel like this is some pretty dream, I’ve crashed at work, and my boss is gonna be mad.” He snorts, rolling his eyes at you.

“No you’re very much awake, I would know. You snored on me in the limo.”

“No way!”

“Mhmm.”

“So, Satoru, why… is this different, then? Me and you?” He nods, words stuck in his throat, part fear but also part…

How does he describe the difference?

“It’s different,” his husky words reassure you. “Very.”

“You seem like you hate and love running things, you know.” He walks you towards a pretty table that’s all set up with drinks and plates, you sit right next to him, chair screeching along the planks as he drags you close, a hand on your thigh now while you set down the hat.

“Sukuna runs shit for me mostly, but of course I have a role to play. And yeah, I fucking hate it, it’s not my choice…” Your heart aches as you study him, you still have so much to learn, even though you surely felt as if you’ve known him forever. “My parents died, and I had to take over. I was eighteen.”

“Shit, Satoru, I’m so sorry.” You blink back tears, and he shakes his head, shooting you a sad little smile.

“Don’t be, I didn’t know them well. I kind of knew mom a bit, but they lived a certain lifestyle, while I was raised to be the leader of their family - shit a kid really shouldn’t be dealing with, shoved on me.” He rolls his shoulders a bit, the pout on his pretty face making your heart break. “I knew my role.”

“And there’s no like… getting out of it?” He shakes his head.

“The best I can do is have a good crew of men, and I do. I have my best friend Suguru, you know Sukuna and Toji too already. Choso also seems to be a good dude. Together we handle the shit, we keep people safe in our territory, I don’t mind that. What I mind is all the other shit, I hate fighting, even if I’m really fucking good at it.”

You run a thumb across his knuckles, roughened from likely many fights. “I get what it’s like to feel trapped. Not my whole life, but I get it.”

“I know you do, and I wish you didn’t.” He squeezes your hand now, and you give him a shaky little smile.

“You’ve made things so much better so quickly.” His cheeks tinge a bit pink, as if he’s uncomfortable with the praise.

“I just helped out.”

“No, it’s much more than that.” He sighs now, shrugging a broad shoulder as if all his actions were some mere trifle, and not already life altering. “Satoru, I was in a dark place before I met you.”

“Shit…” He swipes a tear that falls, pressing his lips against your hairline, holding you close against him.

“Very dark. Bad, Satoru, really bad. When I met you… everything brightened for me.” You keep blinking tears that fall off your lashes, he’s kissing them away as he holds you close, and the food starts coming out. Your lips kiss his neck as you hide your face for a moment, overwhelmed.

“Shh, it’s all okay. You’re fucking tired, I know.” You’re nodding, warm tears spilling against his skin, while he holds you even more tightly, before pulling back, the aromas of the delicious smelling food mixing with the salt in the air.

“I’m awake with you.” He sighs at that, smiling a bit.

“Let’s eat, hmm? You live off red bulls and ramen, I’m worried about you.”

“Hey it’s got lots of b vitamins, red bull you know, Mr. Snorts Coke off women.” He sticks his tongue out and you burst into a fit of laughs again, affection makes his heart ache at the sound, as he falls deeper so quickly.

There’s no avoiding the truth.

“I will only snort coke off you from now on. Did you think I would for anyone else?”

“You did off Sukuna’s girl.”

“Well I didn’t meet you yet. You’re so possessive!”

“Maybe.” He sighs now, taking a fork and a bite of food off the plate, placing it between your lips, you chew it thoughtfully, eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

“You’re all mad about Mei, mad I snorted coke off your friend, I’m expecting you to start swatting at the strippers soon.”

“Well, not until you’re actually my boyfriend.” Your voice is light, but then it’s there, the question, and you grow embarrassed quickly at yourself. “Satoru, I’m not rushing you into anything, please, it was just teasing.”

“You’re just staking your claim, it’s pretty hot, pookie.” You sigh in relief at the easy way he winks, unbothered - or so it seems - when in fact Satoru doesn’t think boyfriend really cuts.

He needs to be more than that.

The wind is gently blowing your hair around your face when he watches you sip on your wine, the soft light of the setting sun casting pinks and golds across your skin, and for a moment his breath catches, seeing your tired eyes light up, your pretty smile. It makes any and everything he’d have to do to protect you worth it, your giggle as you lean forward, a hand brushing across his thigh now, making him ache for you.

“This is beautiful, Satoru. Thank you so much for this.” Your lips press on his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, the salty sea spray mingling in the air with your perfume, heady and intoxicating.

He swallows a bit, arm wrapping around you now as the two of you sit at the table, food plated by the best chefs he could hire, on his own damn boat he bought for a date, but all you can focus on is him. In his pretty blue eyes, and the way the sun is casting shadows from behind him, illuminating his tall figure when he leans low, brushing a thumb across your cheek.

It’s warmed from the sun, but soon hot under his touch, his bright blue gaze that makes your heart pound. “It’s all worth it.” He murmurs quietly, he knows you don’t grasp his meaning fully, but you kiss him softly, drinking in his sighs, while his touch drifts to the small of your back.

Anything is worth your presence.

“This food looks amazing but I doubt I can pronounce it. It’s insane.” You say softly, eyeing the plates then, and he tries to hold back just lifting you on it, swiping every fancy dish across the wood planks beneath you, and eating you instead.

He doubts that will wait much longer, not with the glimpses of thigh from your high cut dress, not with the way that necklace is dangling precariously against your collarbone that he wants to litter with bites. He takes a breath, putting on an easy smile then. “I don’t either, I just asked for super fancy shit.”

You giggle at it, his sincerity, and he grins so boyish and charming, it melts your fucking heart. “I feel like you can’t be real, and it scares me.”

“Not real?” He frowns a bit, while you take a nibble of one of the perfectly set dishes, sighing as it hits your taste buds, nodding a bit. “What’s that mean?”

“Too good for me? More than I deserve? Too amazing-”

“The fuck?” He glares at you, gripping your chin now, snowy lashes lowering as you sit there, fork clattering from your hand.

“Sorry I-”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that. You fucking deserve everything. Okay?” You blink back emotions, words that shouldn’t spill yet but threaten to, taking a shaky breath and nodding.

“I’m just so tired, Satoru. I’m sorry.” He relaxes his grip, long elegant fingers dancing along your jaw, sighing now as the boat gently dashes through the water beneath you two, and for a moment he’d like it to carry you both away. Far the fuck away. “Thank you for everything, for every moment with me.”

“Don’t thank me for it, right now all I can think of is-” Your phone starts going off then, lighting up at the table, he frowns over at the name as you sigh, ignoring the call. “Your mom?”

“She’ll stop after a few, it’s for money.” You’re so used to this, it infuriates Satoru then, the next call he answers, before you can stop him, covering your mouth in shock, eyes wide as he casually answers.

“Your daughter is on a date, Mom. She can’t give you any money I’m afraid,” you hear her yelling and panicking, but he just sips on a glass of wine, winking at you, as if to tell you he’s got it. “I’ll make a deal, leave her alone all day and night, and I’ll give you some instead.”

“Don’t do that!” Your whisper is brushed off, as he smirks, and you can’t hear her voice anymore.

“Your daughter deserves a day where she’s not carrying all your fucking burdens, mmkay? Great, I’ll send that over tomorrow, meet you soon I’m sure.” He hangs up now, eyeing your shocked face with a shrug. “She’ll leave you alone for a bit.”

“You can’t just pay everyone to leave me alone, this is my mess, it’s-”

“It’s not your mess. You got stuck with hers. And baby Imma fix it all, okay?” He cups your face with both hands, and you’re ended, any resolve, or waiting for the right time, it all falls from your brain, replaced with one thing instead-

You need him.

You need him in every way.

You slam your lips on his then, hot and desperate, he exhales and drags your body against him, until he’s picked you up, sliding plates over and stepping between your thighs, feeling the heat of your needy cunt even over the layers of his pants and the dress he’s slipping up. You cry out against him when he bites the lower lip, the one you’ve bitten to hell, the pain sharp and sweet, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.

“I need you, Satoru,” you whisper now, eyeing him with a dilated, lidded gaze, your little hands grabbing at his dress shirt, feeling the hammering of his heart against your palm. “Please.”

Who was he to deny you anything?

“You sure, because I will fuck you right on this table. That’s how you want our first time together?” He cooes those words like the sweetest taunt, slipping your dress up your thighs as his breath caresses your lips, swollen already and stinging from his kisses.

“Yes, I do. Please.” He moans now, lips back on yours, drinking in your cries while he slips your panties to the side, fingers slipping inside your tight little hole, your cunt pulses around his digits, already so wet and eager, you’re already convulsing, hand yanking on his skinny black tie, pulling him impossibly closer. 

He’s ended by your sweet pleas, the way your mouth melds under his, cock throbbing and leaking precum against his boxers, he is losing control now, trying to wait, to give you time, but how can he anymore? He wants to carry you down to the bed, make love to you, but maybe that can wait, because he also wants to fuck you bent over on this goddamn table.

He does just that, yanking you down and shoving more things aside, bending you over the table so your legs just dangle, he hopes the men he’s paid to keep his boat running are smart enough to go the fuck away - they’re paid enough - as he gets to his knees, lapping you over your soaked panties. “Satoru!”

“Mmm, fuck…” He slides them off now, letting them fall to your ankles, tongue swiping up your sweet flavor, letting it pool on his tongue before standing, undoing his belt buckle, cock hanging heavy when he releases it, shoving your dress up your waist now. “I need you now, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning over you, lips on your ear. “She ready f’me?”

You look back, as his cock teases your entrance, the tip alone touching your engorged clit and making your cunt just slip down him, along his length and between your soppy folds, pressing just so at your entrance. You both whine out as he does, achingly slow and teasing, as if giving you a moment to adjust, his hands on either side of you on the table, gripping the tablecloth beneath your body.

“Big stretch, sweets, f-fuck you’re so tight,” his breath is hot against your neck as he stretches you, the burn so fucking delicious your ass arches up for more, he’s just a couple inches in and already you’re feeling so full. He moans, softly, easing out and pressing back in, tip dragging your spot and making your eyes roll back. “Can she take me? You sure?”

“I can, I can, mnh! Gimme as s-sec…” He chuckles as if he’s not dying, as if he’s not beyond completely destroyed by the time his cock drags along your walls, gripping him so tight like a vise, trying to milk him before he’s even fucked you. He closes his eyes, long white lashes brushing your skin, drinking up your every cry, feeling every bit of your body.

“Ready for more, then? M’barely in, baby.” You gasp at that fact, not sure just how he’d get much more, his tongue laps up a bead of sweat on the side of your neck, cock sliding back out, your wetness pouring as he does, making the next thrust even deeper. “Hah- f-fuck, there another inch, huh? We’re half there.”

“Half!?” He chuckles again, letting you adjust, plates clattering with delicate and extravagant desserts, the wind blowing gently against your skin while Satoru’s scent hits your nose, his lips brushing against your neck.

“Thought you wanted it now, that you could take it? Can’t even take half my cock in your tiny little cunt, can you?” The duality of him, of his sweet kisses and devoted actions, with him now talking shit with his thick cock stretching you out is too much, your head falls back against him now, whines echoing out while your cunt spasms.

“I can take more, just… gimme a minute.” He sighs now, reaching around finding your engorged clit and running in circles, you scream out at it, not bothering to hide just how good it feels, legs shaking as he sinks deeper, impossibly deeper, and it starts to feel so good then. “Satoru!”

“That’s it, need your pretty little clit played with, don’t you?” He’s figuring your body out like he did that night when he devoured you, pulling back again until he’s just got the tip in, you whine out at it, he pushes all the way inside, slamming into your cervix now. “Oh fuck…”

“Mnh!” You’re done for when his fingers stop momentarily, he’s bottomed out as much as he can fit in your snug little hole, that’s trying to make him cum quick with every quiver, feeling his tip drooling on that cervix. “Satoru… please…”

Fuck, he was just frozen for a moment, he instantly snaps out of it, rolling his slender fingers on the twitchy clit now, pulling back and slamming again, rolling his hips just so and feeling you begin to shatter. “That’s it, let go f’me… lemme feel you cum all over my cock, baby - let go.”

“Ngh!” At his command you do, eyes shut as your head slams down on your own arms, hands clinging and ruining the pretty white cloth while you cum so hard your brain shuts the fuck down, all it is now is pleasure, it’s all Satoru, his cock inside while you’re gushing arousal, the orgasm rushing your body. “Ohmygod ohmy- ah!”

Your screams just urge him on, he lets you ride that out, finally removing his fingers and slipping them in your mouth. “Suck them, that’s it - such a good girl,” his murmurs are met with his cock sliding almost out again, as you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself, tangy and sweet. “Ready for me now?”

Ready for him!?

You want to ask what the fuck he even means when he starts thrusting mean in your cunt, stretching it out as he moves, fucking into you harder, faster, pistoning his hips so that you feel him every fucking where. “S-Satoru!” 

“That’s it, look you’re taking me like you’re fucking made f’me.” He can’t help himself now, lost in you, bent over you and fucking you hard as one hand grips your thigh, lifting it even higher up on the table, hitting deeper, harder. “Feel me everywhere, don’t you?”

All you can do is weakly nod while the aftershocks pulse around the thick length piercing you so deep you can hardly breathe. He yanks out then, leaving you empty and whining out - Satoru flips you so fast you’re breathless, cupping your face and kissing your lips desperately. Your thighs press against either side of his narrow hips, those dark dress slacks slipping down his legs as his cock presses back against you.

“Wanna look at your pretty face,” his words are followed by his cock driving in your squelching cunt, cupping your face, his intense blue eyes devouring every inch of you he can see, yanking your dress down to reveal a breasts just a bit, brushing your nipple with his thumb while he shoves in again, stuffing you full. “Look at you, fuck you’re perfect.”

You want to say he is too, but you can’t form any words, not when he hits some angle that has you cumming again, white hot stars bursting behind your shut eyes when it hits. He watches you as you fall apart, words that shouldn’t be there yet at the tip of his tongue, he wants to explain them away while he watches you, while your hands grip his expensive jacket and your cunt grips his cock.

Your back arches, breasts spilling out of that top, mouth wide open in a slutty O as you scream out for him. “Fucking beautiful…” he murmurs, enamored by you, before shutting his own eyes, feeling how you’re so slick and hot for him, his balls smacking your ass while your panties still dangle off your heel, thrown over his hip.

“Satoru, mnh, s-so good, I… so much…” you’re nonsensical, slurring your words like you’re all fucked up from the finest liquor, and he can’t drag his eyes off you once they open again, the evening sky casting the prettiest glow on every perfect inch, gripping him so tight he can hardly hold out.

“One more time, hmm? Need one more from you, sweetheart, you can do it.” He encourages you, even though you’re already weak, dizzy, drooling from your mouth and your cunt. He slams into your cunt again, the wet messy sounds echoing even outside in the middle of the fucking sea, you’re so loud as you whine out, brows together, two little lines forming between them.

“T-too much,” he moans at your broken words, leaning lower, grabbing you by your hips and slamming his cock inside again, watching as you twitch under him, gasping for a breath. “Oh my g-god, fuck…”

“One more, just for me. M’close, she’s too fucking tight,” he presses a hot kiss to your nipple, sucking the peak into his mouth, feeling your body tense, one hand right on your tummy over your dress. “C’mon, one more for me.”

You nod weakly, overstimulated and falling off the edge, while Satoru groans and buries his face against your neck, inhaling your scent when he bottoms out, tip leaking so much pre it’s filling you with his warmth. His soft white hair right above his cock tickles your clit again when he rolls his hips, teeth sinking into the delicate skin on your neck and urging you on more.

You feel too much when he pulls back, lips glossed from his saliva, his blue eyes just looking at you that way, the way that makes you feel too beautiful, too special, too fucking much. So much your breath catches, you pause and falter, hands slipping up to cup his face, as words of deep feelings threaten to spill for a man you have only known for a short time.

But how can you not feel it?

“Cum inside me, please,” you whisper instead, and he pauses himself, snowy lashes blinking rapidly, exhaling against your kiss swollen lips now, his cock pulsing as he’s at the edge of spilling. “If you want, I’m on the pill s’okay, but if you-”

Satoru cuts you off with a brutal kiss, cumming inside you was something he could only fucking dream of, and you’re begging for it. Once again, who the fuck was he to deny anything you asked for?

“I’ll give you anything, baby,” he knows it’s vulnerable to say, but it falls from his lips. He brushes your hair back, watching two little tears slip as you cry out, while he lifts your hip up with his free hand, slamming into you again, seeing your eyes roll back into your skill. “Anything you ask for.”

His words barely register, when he’s pumping you full of white hot ropes of cum, groaning against your ear, and you’re filled with him then, so intimate in that moment, coating your walls and pooling down his cock with the pressure of your muscles gripping his cock again. He whines out softly, before kissing you again, hands shaking even as he tries to grip you, pumping his still hard cock in and out.

So much cum, it’s already swirling around his veiny cock with your shimmery arousal in strings and drips, messy and filthy, when he leans up and looks at you again, and you both just look, eyes locked, lips parted. He slides in slow, achingly slow, relishing in every bit of how your pretty body writhes on that table, as your hands grip and loosen the grip again, your whimpers filling his mind.

“Fuck,” he exhales, resting his head on yours now, feeling the sweat on your brow, as your aftershocks keep milking him more and more, and he’s fucking spent. He has never felt this, whatever the fuck this is, beyond a perfect, pretty cunt, beyond busting inside you that deep.

It was more, so much more, so much it takes his breath.

Resisting the urge to spill far, far too much too quickly, he kisses you instead, and you meet his lips, brush for brush, kiss for kiss, tongues dancing while he picks your head up gently off the table, resting his hand under it, gripping now messy locks of hair. He keeps littering your neck and collar bone with kisses, keeps gripping your body everywhere he can, keeps whispering your name.

God he can never get enough of you now.

He knew it would be phenomenal, but he didn’t expect to feel all of this, and the worry sets in - would you feel the same? - but your drunk, dilated eyes that fill with tears should be his answer. “Are you okay, was I too rough, sweetheart?”

“No, it was just so intense… I… fuck I’ve never felt anything like…” You’re trailing off too, and he exhales in relief, peppering little kisses as he helps you sit up, sliding his cock out of you with a wet squelch. You eye the aftermath, blushing furiously.

“You’re messy, y’know, so messy, tsk.” Satoru’s long fingers brush against your abused little hole, making you hiss at the contact, a sadistic smile dancing across otherwise sweet lips. “You’re a mess f’me, huh?”

“You’re insane, you know, look at all the mess you made!” You gesture around weakly, and he chuckles again, kissing you and slipping up his boxers and pants, belt unbuckled while he adjusts your dress, helping you down carefully.

“You wanted it right now. Needy little brat.”

“Excuse me, you’re needy!” He glares playfully, helping you onto wobbly legs, you have to wrap an arm around his waist, knowing how sore you’re going to be tomorrow already.

“Can’t even walk, poor baby.”

“You’re kind of an ass, huh?”

“Just figuring that out?” He brushes your hair back, sweet kisses defying his words, you sigh at how good it feels in his arms, as he holds you against him. “I bought some clothes for you, wanna get more comfy?”

“How do you know my size?” He leans back, eyeing your body with vivid blue eyes, like a caress as they move across your skin.

“I’ve observed your body very well,” you get flustered again, burying your face against his chest, and he laughs softly. “You ask me to cum inside and then get nervous I bought some clothes?”

“You’ve spent enough money, jesus, Satoru.” He shrugs, rubbing your back while you hold onto him tightly.

“I’m filthy fucking rich, sweetheart, why not spend some of it on you?”

“But who am I to you - all this is…. Too much and…”

“Shh.” He tilts your chin up with two fingers, your eyes meeting his once more, drowning in him. “I enjoy this, and I haven’t… enjoyed anything in a while.”

His soft words fill you with an ache inside so deep, knowing he too was in a dark place, you can feel it, and you hate it for him, lip trembling as you cup his face, and his eyelashes flutter shut. “I’m here for you too, no I have no boats or money. Not even any cocaine,” he snorts at that, and you smile softly. “But I have me, and I’m here, for however long you want to enjoy me.”

“Don’t promise all of that,” his husky whisper almost plunges you right over that deep end, when he presses you against the table he’d just had you bent over, cunt still throbbing and now it’s leaking his cum. “What if I never let you leave?”

“Then I’ll be your captive,” you tease softly. “You’d look hot in a pirate hat.”

“Oh yeah, would I now?” You nod and giggle again, but the words are out there in the universe - that you have no intentions of leaving his side. Fuck you’d promise forever if you didn’t know that’s batshit insane.

You’ve never felt more right than in Satoru’s arms.

“Maybe I’m like a little pest, you won’t be able to get rid of me.” He shakes his head, throat closing up a bit as he holds you back against him, feeling the rapid beats of your pulse on his thumb as it runs across your neck, hearing your little sigh of pleasure as he repeats the action.

“I think we both know that’s bullshit.” His voice is just a little hoarse, you snuggle closer, little buttons of his dress shirt brushing on your nose.

“Y-you said you had some comfy clothes?”

“Mmhmm,” he’s pulling back now, so much left unspoken as he takes your hand in his. “C’mon, we’ll both get something comfier on. I figured we could just crash here for the night, if you want.”

“Fuck yes I want, god getting out of that house for the night, and with you…” you trail off again, as he smiles just a bit, leading you down the steps again into the little room inside. The bed keeps calling to you as if saying you’re going to sleep in his arms tonight.

That’s something you’ve never done.

But it’s also something Satoru’s never done.

“There’s a bathroom right in there if you wanna freshen up.” You smile thankfully, slipping on the soft shirt and shorts he’d picked out, coming back out to see him dressed casually for the first time.

You’ve literally only seen him in three piece suits, cufflinks worth more than your car, and a watch probably worth your damn house, always sleek and perfect, there’s something sweet about him in a soft gray sweater hanging just a bit off a shoulder, showing a bit of his strong chest and sharp collarbones. Your breath catches a bit, taking him in slowly as he does the same to you.

“Those sweats, they’re slutty.” You tease, and he looks down at the soft white sweats in question, lips quirked up.

“You calling me slutty? Miss - cum in me please-” You smack a hand on his mouth, as if now you care if someone hears, and he just chuckles, grabbing your wrist, thumb rushing across the little veins there.

“You liked it, came so much.” He raises a thin brow then, leaning low, so low, his sweet breath dancing along your lips as you inhale and exhale slowly.

“You’re talking shit, huh? That’s cute.” He picks you up before you can blink, and you’re thrown right on that bed, his fingers slipping the shorts aside, finding you again, soaking already, curling his fingers wickedly. “Are you sore? Aw, poor sweet cunt, can she not take dick?”

“Are you an asshole or not!? Insane ass… mnh, Satoru!” He laughs a bit, easing his fingers out, coated in the remnants of his cum and your slick, sucking the two of you right off - cheeks hollowing while you watch with wide eyes, cunt reacting already, needing more, even though you’re so sore. “Satoru, you’re so freaky.”

“I’ve been very vanilla with you, actually.” His words make you blink in confusion, but before you can process what he means he has his face back down between your thighs, tongue lapping inside you so deep. Your hands tug at his silvery strands, screaming out, hips bucking up against his hot mouth.

“Satoru!” You’re yanking so hard it hurts, and his cock is already pressing against the firm mattress of the big captain’s bed, as he tastes just how perfect his cum is pouring out of your cunt.

“Mmm, fucking taste us, sweets,” he whispers, nipping at your clit with sharp teeth, two fingers opening your mouth for him to spit right inside it, you almost choke from your gasp, and he groans as you do, remembering how you felt choking right on his cock. “Swallow it, be good f’me.”

You do just that, swallowing his spit down, and he’s desperately kissing you again, messy and hungry, yanking your shorts aside as he slips his sweats down, that blushing pink tip already pouring white sticky cum from the slit, feeling your hips jerk as it bumps your engorged clit. You’re whining out hoarsely, body shifting underneath him, your cunt slicker and slicker with every press and tease.

“Hold these to the side.” His gruff order is quickly met, you tug your shorts over, and he’s pressing back in, you whine out at how sore it is, yet the pain just makes it even sweeter, while he sinks inside you. “Fuck, god look at you, you’re all beat up from my cock, aren’t you?”

You just swallow and nod nervously, still tasting him on your tongue, while his eyes darken, pupils blown the fuck out like he’s on the finest powder, he hovers over you, your hands slip under his sweater, feeling his body slowly. He pulls back again, as you’re slipping up his shirt, dying to see more of his body, revealing the lines and divots of his perfect abdomen as you look down at his body.

“Asked you a question, sweetheart.” His commanding tone shoots your eyes back up, his tip just pressing in your tight ring of muscles and staying there, when you’re begging for more, nails pressing against the hard muscles of his back.

“Yes, I am. Sore,” your sweet whisper has him moaning, he leans over you, cock pulling almost fully out once more. “You like me hurting from your cock? Do you want me to hurt?”

“Fucking…” He lets out a shaky breath and you see it, his fingers itching to squeeze your throat, you take his hand and put it right on your neck, gripping his wrist tightly. “Not to really hurt, I still want it to feel good, baby.”

“I do feel good, so good, and… I want to.” He kisses you firmly before he thrusts fully in one stroke, and you struggle to take him even after being stretched out, even being soaking wet, crying out weakly as his hand tightens slowly.

“Tap me if it’s too much, okay?” You nod and he squeezes harder, pulling back and slamming his cock inside you again, your cry blocked and melded into a weak gasp as your mind gets fuzzy. “Look at this pretty little neck, you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

He needs it, you feel it, how he moves, harder thrusts hitting and slapping so deep, all while he pins you down, one hand pressing on the tummy where his cock is bulging, the other on your throat, all that weight on you, making you feel enwrapped by him. Your ears start buzzing, so much better than the teasing in the car, as a drop of sweat falls down his brow onto your cheek.

He moans at the sight, lost in you, inside you, on you, all around you - it’s just Satoru Gojo, shoving in deep and bracing himself on one arm while you feel your orgasm building again. You’re gasping as he chokes harder, pressure increasing until you nearly black out while you cum for him, seeing double and feeling like you’re floating while it rocks through you.

Your hands grip his wrist, riding it out with a desperate squeak when he releases it, and you’re gasping for breaths, greedy for the air to fill your lungs, only for his kisses to sap the rest of the air in the room. “S-Satoru…” Your voice is hoarse, his handprint around his neck, making him harder, more desperate at the sight, losing the last shreds of control he has.

“You good baby?” His soft whisper hits your still ringing ears, and you nod, dragging him down by his loose sweater for another kiss, as he presses so deep, laying on top of you, cock rocking just right against your every spot. “Fuck, m’gonna fill you up so much, gonna have to take a break from work.”

“What? You’re so- ah!” He’s leaned up again, pressing your thighs so high then, kissing along your inner thighs and calves as he holds them up, tugging at your shorts to keep them aside.

“Want it all in you, don’t you? Slutty for me, just me?”

“Just y-you - ah!” Satoru pounds into your cunt, smacks echoing in the room as he does, fucking one load completely out just to pump another, you’re lost in it, consumed by him, cumming right with him until you’re weak, so weak you’re not making noise, just little mewls from your throat.

“Fuck, feel you, so full huh?” He presses your tummy again, wild thoughts rushing through his head - babies inside you - fuck his babies.

He shakes the thought off, he’s certainly a man who is into many kinks, but breed kink was never one - in fact he actively made sure he’d never have kids with any of the many women under him. But you? He can see it now, and it makes his cum spurt out even more, your mouth open wide as you’re clinging to him, cunt milking his cock like she just wants him to put babies in her.

So lost in insane thoughts - in wild love declarations he can’t say.

What if he was too much?

All while you’re so cock drunk you murmur - ‘think I’m in love, shit’

He pauses, blinking then, and you realize your folly, covering your mouth with wide eyes. “You said… what?”

“Nothing, fuck.” He sighs, sliding in with a still hard cock - how was this man just hard after cumming!?

“Nothing?” He teases, stroking again, watching your jaw tense and quiver as your eyes shut, and your head falls back.

“Ignore me please.”

“I’ll never ignore you.” Your eyes open and he’s far too close, blue eyes swirling like storms in the sky, while the cabin darkens completely, you register it must be nightfall now barely. “What’d you say?”

“Crazy shit.” You kiss him instead, and he lets you live your delusion for now, while your pulse flutters so quickly. “Mnh, okay I kinda hurt.”

“Shit,” he eases out and you wince, brows knitting together. “Too rough?”

“No, no I liked it. I’m just not used to… anything like that. At all.” He leans down and presses a kiss as a little apology, his breath alone making you twitch and whine out again.

“Sorry, pretty.” He’s whispering to your cunt, you giggle then, breathless as he eyes you, slipping your shorts back.

“You talking to my pussy?”

“Fuck yeah, she loves me.” You hear the taunt in his voice, feel your flustered self flush under his serious gaze.

Who was Satoru Gojo?

Sweet, silly, fun?

Freaky, filthy, rough?

Devious, teasing, brilliant?

You just know one thing, you’re falling off the deep end - feelings so intense it’s brutal not to spill, but you’re so terrified of letting go and trusting someone completely. But you do trust him, you feel safe, when he kisses across your brow now, murmuring your name so sweetly.

“C’mon, let’s have a drink and go look at the water.”

“I need help.” He chuckles, clearly self pleased, easing you up, he carefully cleans you up first, taking a pony tail and gathering your hair after trying to brush away the mess. “Well now you’ll have to do that all the time.”

“Brush your hair? Of course I will.” He’s so sweet then you melt, something so simple he doesn’t realize how much it means, pressing a little kiss on your head before grabbing one of the fleece blankets and heading up.

Soon the two of you are watching the pretty water, the moon reflecting on the ripples below, the boat is heading back to the dock for the night, you see the city lit up in the distance while he wraps a blanket around you, holding you over the soft fleece. You exhale at the peace, at how perfect it is, just waiting for everything to break or shatter, to wake up.

“You’re quiet,” he muses softly, both of you leaning against the railing now. You look back up at him, and he cups your face, as the cool night air brushes past, and the moonlight casts shadows on the planes of his handsome face. “Everything okay?”

“I’m waiting to wake up from this dream,” your words hurt him, the way your voice breaks, your lip quivering. “It’s too perfect.”

“It’s real, okay?” You nod, turning and letting him hold you, while he rests his chin on your head, staring out into the night, seeing in the distance arcs of dolphins slicing through the water. “Hey, look!”

“Hmm?” You turn and he points, and then you see them closer, their gray fins in the air, making you light up, bouncing up and down. “Oh my god!?”

“There’s a bunch of them too.” He leans forward, big arms wrapped back around you while the two of you study them, enamored.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Never?”

“No. Satoru… I can’t swim.”

“What!?” You just nod and he laughs softly. “You didn’t even tell me and we’re in the middle of the sea.”

“I figured you’ll save me.” He smiles softly, burying his face against your neck, inhaling you then. “You already have.”

“Give me too much credit. I still have work to do on that debt.” His heart hurts at your sigh, peeking back to see the dolphins going further in the distance of the pretty clear water.

“You’ve already done more for me than anyone ever has, and I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you enough.” You turn again, and he sees the streaks of tears on your cheeks glittering in the moonlight, he gently brushes them aside, swallowing down his own emotions at the sight. “But I’ll keep thanking you, in every way I can.”

“You never need to thank me. I just want you to get some fucking sleep and eat a good meal.” You giggle through your tears now.

“You clattered all our food to the floor.”

“Shit. I did.” You both laugh softly, and he kisses you right on the bow of the boat as it gently moves through the night.

You know tomorrow brings reality - the trouble you’re in is helped and halted but far from over, but for now you melt into his arms, losing yourself in him again, again, and again, until the two of you are spent, exhausted. Until you can’t even move, covered in slick sheens of sweat, falling out exhausted into an embrace that feels perfect, when you finally sleep, his last thoughts are prevalent -

How to keep you here, and keep you safe.

And he’ll do whatever he needs to do.

A/N- So sorry this took almost two months! As someone who ALWAYS tries to keep her fics 2-4 wks per, sometimes with a ton of wips one won't click for me for a bit. And this was that one. Thanks for those who waited patiently, the next few chaps should not be so long of a wait now that I have my direction! If you enjoyed I'd love to see your comments and thoughts on our sweet lil Mob Gojo <3

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[turquoisenintendo64]

the warmth arms bring ft. mark grayson.

you weren’t listening anymore.

you felt how his voice rumbled in his chest, but you weren’t actually listening to the words, too focused on the beating of his heart. and, also, you were falling asleep.

moments like this were rare with your boyfriend, mark, as he was always too busy saving people. so, when they came, you cherished them.

but right now, on the other hand, you were awfully tired and his loving hold on you was keeping you warm. not to mention how hearing his heart beating so calmly brought you immense peace. how could you not get sleepy?

you caught some of the words. something about… penguins. and pebbles.

“hey,” his voice makes you open your eyes slowly. “are you falling asleep? we can sleep.”

it’s also his voice what makes the corner of your lips quirk up. soft, sweet and quiet.

“no, no,” you say, groggily. “keep talking. i like hearing you talk.”

he chuckles softly, the sound going straight to your heart.

“well i was saying,” he starts again. his hand travels from the small of your back to touch the ends of your hair. “penguins choose a partner for life, and they give them the most beautiful pebble they find as a gift. like a promise ring, kind of.”

you hum softly, letting him know you’re listening.

“you gave me a rock once.”

he laughs.

“i did,” you swear you can hear his smile. “more than once, actually.”

you stretch on top of him, exhaling through your nose.

his arms encircle your waist again, making you feel secure.

you yawn, and he asks you again: “do you want to sleep?”

this time, you nod, shifting so both of you would be more comfortable in that position.

he holds you close to him, and you loosely wrap your arms around his neck.

he leaves a soft kiss on the top of your head, and you smile. “but keep talking,” you request. “your voice is soothing.”

he murmurs an ‘okay’ before rambling about a movie he saw a couple days ago with william. something about brad pitt solving a crime.

he didn’t mind if you weren’t listening, with your eyes already closed and your breathing growing more calm.

just being this close to you, in the darkness and quiet of his room, was enough.

knowing you were alive and safe was enough.

some people would call this boring. he calls this love.