#does this count as vw

[kaogens]

crossover of the century

[fayes-fics]

Breathe (In The Air)

Pariring: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, 1970s AU

Summary: A night camping out under the stars

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, recreational drug use (cannabis), body hair used in foreplay, vaginal fingering, blow job, woman on top, unprotected vaginal sex.

Word Count: 2.6k

Authors Note: Request fill for Anon (HERE) asking for a sequel to 1970s hippie Benedict, travelling around in his VW bus selling his artwork at music festivals. Sorry for the gif; there was nothing else that remotely fit. The original story is HERE. The title is a Pink Floyd song. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for the beta. I hope you enjoy Nonny. I do enjoy this AU ngl. <3

“What do you want from life?” 

You loll your head to the side to observe his handsome profile as he stares towards the dome of vibrant stars above.

“I have no idea,” you confess, turning to look skywards again, moonlight glowing through the swirl of smoke you exhale, your fingers toying with the tassels of the soft cotton blanket you both lay upon.

“I want adventure…” he declares, rubbing a hand over his bare midriff absentmindedly.

“Hmmm, that sounds wonderful,” you admit, handing him back the joint, that languid feeling enrobing your mind as the THC kicks in.

It's a temperate summer night, and you are lying together naked, tinny strains of music from a portable radio as you camp in a wildflower meadow en route to the next festival. After a series of magical nights with Ben in his VW bus at the last one, you couldn't resist when he offered for you to continue the journey onwards together. 

He takes a deep drag, the tip glowing like the campfire you are lying in front of, before placing it aside into a metal ashtray and rolling over so he hovers above you, warm skin upon yours.

“I am glad you are on this adventure with me,” he remarks with a lopsided grin, the captivating beauty of his face dancing in the firelight.

“Same.” you concur, reaching to touch the daisy chain buried in his halo of riotous curls, somehow the blooms looking more vibrant in the serene state you are slipping into.

His hand slides languorously down your body from your throat to your lower belly, mapping your fire-warmed skin before lacing his fingers into the downy hair at the apex of your thighs, stirring that nascent buzz between your legs.

“I think this beautiful garden needs some flowers,” he opines silkily, his fingers circling in the strands there, petting gently as his brow twitches into a tempting arch.

He leans over you and plucks a few forget-me-nots from the tall grass, carefully separating each bloom on your stomach. Then, delicately, he weaves each tiny flower into your small thatch of hair, a mild tickle as the stems brush over your skin, making you giggle quietly. He smiles softly, your eyes meeting, then both tracking down the plane of your body as he continues to work quietly, humming gently along to the music.

“There… perfect,” he pronounces proudly; a few moments later, 

It does indeed look pretty: bright blue tiny flowers that contrast strikingly with your hair and skin. 

“Even in this, you are an artist,” you quip blithely.

He smiles demurely through his lashes, shuffling lower and resting his head upon your diaphragm, his fingers tracing soothing patterns around your belly button, his breath puffing warm over your flesh. Allowing the jangle of electric guitar from the radio to fill your bones, your fingers run idly through his luscious locks as your mind floats like cotton in a breeze. The moment seems fleeting but everlasting all at once, profound but insignificant, being so small under the twinkling constellations above. It all coalesces into a sharp need to feel rooted in your body. So you draw your knees up and allow your legs to fall open—a blatant invitation. The apple of his cheek presses into your belly as he smirks knowingly without looking up at you, sensing your need without you needing to voice it, so in tune with your body and desires since the night you met.

“Every beautiful garden should have a sacred fountain…” he rumbles, fingertips spidering down again over the floral weave to tease your splayed inner thigh before sliding casually lower, parting your folds, exhaling roughly at the wet warmth he finds there.

You moan; the mellow cloud you float upon heightens the sensation rippling through your being as his fingers circle your clit, his warm lips suckling gently on your stomach as you writhe under his touch. His name is a sigh upon your lips, his movements unhurried but the perfect amount of pressure. He huffs sonorous praises into your belly as he forms a tighter circle over your swollen bud, moving faster now, your hands flying to the blanket, scrunching in your fists as your head rolls to one side, wanting to bite down upon something, the pleasure coursing through you amplified by your high. 

Whimpering as he slides his fingers lower, two breaching your body, desire thick and viscous dripping upon him as he pushes further in your pussy. The sensation of his knuckles dragging over your walls makes you gasp and call out, your body arching up off the blanket, a heavy throb in your abandoned clit. 

“Please, Ben…” you implore, greedy for more.

He shushes you and unfurls slightly, his fingers flexing inside you as he rearranges to press his whole body into your flank, his cock teasingly hard against your hip, using his free hand to haul one of your legs over his, pulled open to his attention now.

“Don't be impatient; we have all the time in the world,” he tuts sinfully, his lips hot on your throat, grazing the tip of his teeth lightly over your jugular. 

Your protesting mewl is cut short by his fingers twisting inside you, a dragging sensation that makes your eyes roll and your whole abdomen clench.

“I could do this for hours,” he confesses silkily, his breath hot on your temple. “I love the look on your face when I do this…”

He curls his fingers, a probing sensation that makes you groan and your face contort, your mouth now hanging open. He chuckles triumphantly before twisting his wrist again and beginning a rocking motion, wringing a sound from your body that, before you met him, you may have been ashamed of, but he lauds every time. Him murmuring how proud he is that he can do this to you.

But it is not quite enough to push you to the edge as fast as you are craving, more of a slow swirling ascent that has you lighthearted and with laboured breathing, your abdomen rippling as all your muscles tense and release in waves, as if willing your orgasm closer, an itch in your brain you need to scratch. It has you pleading with him to take pity, go a little faster, rougher, anything…

“Syncopate, sweet girl…” he purrs, “listen to the music, breathe in the air, float away with the universe…”

Each word is a lyrical wave tumbling from his lips in a rhythm that matches the movement of his fingers inside you. So you relax back, savouring the multisensory journey, allowing the flow to take you rather than chasing immediate pleasure. Something morphing in your body as you do so, a serenity that is bone-deep, riding the gentle waves of pleasure that lap at your edges while his fingers dance lightly upon your g-spot.

“That’s it….” he rumbles approvingly, intuiting your surrender.

He slips down to enclose your areola in his hot, wet mouth, once again causing a spike of pleasure that has you clenching upon his fingers and canting up. A firm hand on your solar plexus pushes you back down with a chuckle that vibrates your nipple, now firm under his tongue. And so he continues the slow, wondrous torture, swapping to your other breast.

You swear you can feel every blade of grass under your shoulders through the soft cotton weave, the energy of every star above you in the sky coursing through his touch deep inside, every note of the song playing reverberating under your skin. A high, so delicate but earthy, as if everything is turned up to eleven on a dial, tangy and bright, like popping candy throughout your entire being.

It's then he swipes his thumb over your engorged clit; you could swear a supernova fires in your synapses, the sensation all at once too much, and with a few flicks, you are clawing at the blanket and his skin, biting your lip, circling that phenomenal bliss.

This time, he doesn't relent, his lips sucking your neck as with a cry that you are sure startles every animal burrowed in the surrounding fields; you are breaking. Almost febrile, your entire being flushing hot, every muscle tensing, your pussy grasping his fingers to the point he growls, driving his stiff cock into your hip, precum smearing over your skin. Still, it’s something you barely sense, your entire focus pinpointed on the sensations coursing through your body.

At last, you fall back, exhausted and panting, feeling his fingers slip slowly from your body with a gush of moisture that leaks across your bottom. You turn your head to look at him, mind awash, unable to form words. His responding smile is smug, crooked and sheer debauchery, his fingers still wet with your arousal, tracing soothing patterns over your ribs as you come down.

“May I return the favour…?” you croak finally.

Before you know it, he is rolling onto his back next to you, an expectant, joyous look upon his face, eyes tracking pointedly to his navel as do yours. His cock standing proud and leaking slightly—a mouthwateringly inviting sight.

He howls, and his whole body flexes as instead of taking him in hand, you dive low and bring his cock into your mouth, so rigid and searing. That tart taste is strong on your tongue as you suckle upon his head, allowing your tongue to press against his frenulum in a cresting wave. He groans staccato, his pelvis tilts, unable to resist the urge to push a little deeper, one hand landing heavy in your hair, twining some strands between his fingers, an anchor he needs as you begin to bob up and down sucking hard, your cheeks hollowing.

The wash of your high enhancing every second, as if in tune with his body—the micro spasms rippling across the plane of his washboard stomach, the flutter of his long eyelashes, the blunt scrape of his rounded fingernails over your scalp, the pulse of his vein on your lips as you slowly allow him to pass through the tight ring of your mouth, teasing him as much as he did you.

You chuckle as he huffs as you pull away and instead lick the length of his shaft with a questing tongue, your hands encircling his base and squeezing softly, enjoying the handful he provides, watching a bead of precum form that you lavishly lick up. He groans again, his head thrashing upon the blanket, the delicate fronds of daisy petals scattering like confetti into his chestnut waves as he does so, his lip flushing magenta where his incisor worries it.

It makes you sit up and stare down upon him wantonly, so utterly beautiful in his untamed arousal. His eyes fly open, glassy and pleading in the campfire glow, pouting fractionally at the lack of your mouth upon his cock, your hand still pumping him gently. Instead, you swing a leg over his and, without a moment of hesitation, sink onto him, inhaling shudderingly at the invasion, your pussy still inflamed from your recent orgasm.

The look of absolute pleasure and reverence that claims his handsome features feels burned into your retinas as his hands fly to your hips, pushing you down flush to his body, his pubic hair tickling your distended slippery clit, his tip rocking into your hilt in a way that makes your eyes roll.

“Don't move, not yet, just feel…” he counsels, his eyes closing, licking his lips and encouraging you, with the flex of his fingers, to rotate your pelvis, to feel him drag against all your walls. 

And so you do, scratch your nails delicately down his abdominals as you stare out to the inky horizon where the navy sky meets the blackened outline of the hedgerows in the distance—again, letting the melodic song seep into your bones, feeling the heat from the dancing flames.

You lean back and arch your spine, placing your hands upon his kneecaps, his legs bending slightly to meet your grip. His hands roam upwards, over your belly and ribs, enclosing each of your breasts in his large grip, a beeline right to your core, already a live wire again, desire coursing in every fibre of your being. 

Then in a deliberate slow drag, you rise slowly before dropping swiftly, revelling in the way his cock pushes you open. A groan from deep inside your being a match to his—throaty, low, wrecked. You begin to set a languid pace, riding him, gripping his knees behind you and staring at the stars above, feeling as if they surround you, tiny lanterns floating just beyond your reach.

“Look at me,” his call is soft, unfocused, imploring, and you tilt down, your breasts squashed into his palms as your eyes meet, something profound in the glimmer you find in the dilated blackness.

Sex has never been this unrestrained before now. Being with him is liberating, wild and luxuriant every time, be it under the influence or not. But tonight, somehow greater than the previous, an inherently verdant setting, alone in the wilds on a balmy night, away from the crowds always in your periphery at the music festival. A large part of you wanting this to be your new forever—naked and feral, entwined together for a blur of future days and nights. A want to live a primitive life of base urges, to feast and to fuck, to be at one with the land, the seasons and the bounteous simplicity of nature.

Time feels elastic as your thighs start to burn from the exertion. Still, you do not stop, not for a moment, too caught up in the tide slowly rising once more and sensing the same in him. A growing desperation in the way his fingers dig into your flesh, in the wild beating of the prominent vein in his neck, in the rise of his hips to meet yours, spearing up as you bear down so it feels like there will always be the imprint of him inside you.

He calls your name, the callus where he holds his paintbrush catching perfectly over your clit as his fingers quest between your legs, hooking you with unerring precision. Catapulting you fast towards a dizzying high again, his movements growing urgent, his jaw tight, so close to breaking. It is barely a moment before you snap again, stilling upon him as you scream with abandon, fluttering around his rigid cock. He groans loudly and, with a few final jerky spasms, comes hard, his toes curling over, his ropey thighs turning rock solid under your bottom as he fills you, a symphony of praise falling from his lips, some not even in English.

And then you are slumping on top of him, his smooth chest tacky under your cheek as you gulp for air, the rustle of the breeze through the nearby trees and the hiss and pop of the logs upon the campfire the only sounds now, the radio falling silent, likely needing new batteries. He slips from your body as you curl your hands around his biceps and snuggle upon him. His long, lean arms wrap around your torso, enveloping you within the large blanket you were lying upon and dropping a kiss upon your dewy brow.

“We can bathe tomorrow in the river,” he hums gently into your hairline.

You nod drowsily, the pull of sleep too beguiling to resist. And that is how you drift off, resting atop him, his heartbeat strong and steady under your ear, the burbling sounds of nature encircling you.

Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Mostly Satoru Gojo x Reader)- It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit, infidelity and confusion. Angst and smut and yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Cunnilingus, rough sex, dirty talk, objectification, spitting, overstimation, Satoru is a toxic hottie, obsessed behavior

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 11k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and has a poly lifestyle. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a bad idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance at you and... The moment he touches you... Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you. Nothing is as it seemed. Will everyone get hurt?

Chapter 3 - Masterlist

Chapter 4

Satoru's POV

Satoru sees you, in the dark of the night, and you crush his goddamn heart with those streaks down your face of tears. You step out of your VW beetle, and he cringes as he sees you have eyelashes on the headlights, flowers all over it. It looks awful, it certainly doesn’t suit someone as beautiful as you, oh if you could be his he would make sure you never had to drive anywhere.

You step up to him, still in that little dress from earlier, and the sight of the straps of your lingerie entice him to no end, falling just slightly off your little shoulders, revealing so much supple skin. Your eyes, the ones that haunt his every dream, are all puffy and red from crying, and there is an anger that takes hold of Satoru then.

What did Suguru do to you?

Whatever it is, Satoru wants to just keep you safe, if he can make you his… Could you be his? Would you? His thoughts make him ache as his gaze looks down your every curve, as you clutch your little hands together nervously, your pink purse slung over your shoulder. You’re so girly and pretty and…

What’s he doing? Just standing out here. He should ask you in, no fuck he should carry you in, like the little doll you are. Oh and to fuck you like a doll makes him so hard under his pajama pants he can’t function. To have you to himself…

Satoru shakes himself out of it, out of the thoughts of you that never stop running through his addled mind, you encompass all his thoughts lately. He’d been stroking himself to the memory of your cunt so hard his dick hurt, wishing he could have done more to you, so much more. But were you really ready to be his, or would you stay just out of reach?

It tortures him, you torture him.

Your POV

“Why does your car have eyelashes!?” Satoru demands, in the middle of the night, fuck it’s almost the morning. And you can’t stop the giggle that escapes your lips as he���s standing there shirtless, arms crossed over his chest in blue pajama pants with little cats on them.

“Why are you judging me, while you’re wearing those?” You tug at them, and he glares down at you.

“ These are comfy. That is stupid. So ugly. Like beetles aren’t ugly enough.” He shivers in disdain and you cross your arms too, scowling.

“My beetle is beautiful! Look at the flowers! Those are hand painted, I’ll have you know.”

“They’re hideous. Ugh, come in, your car is turning me off. Gonna be no dick for you.” You roll your eyes as you walk into his fancy house now, with floor to ceiling windows, modern and beautiful. It’s immaculate as you step in.

“You’re so mean. Should I even be here?” You ask, and then gasp as he’s got you pressed against the door, holding your face gently in his huge hands, and you see his mad look in those pretty blue eyes.

“I asked you here, so shut up. Okay?” You just sigh, little hands gripping his wrists then. “You want a drink?”

“Am I … staying the night?” You ask nervously, and he laughs a bit then.

“It’s almost morning. Yeah you’re staying. Drink or not?”

“Yes, thank you.” He grabs your hand and leads you toward the kitchen, eyeing you as he pops open a bottle of whiskey, you try to even your erratic breathing. “Want something to wear besides a dress?”

“You wanna see me in your clothes, huh?” He rolls his pretty eyes, and then hands you a little crystal glass filled with amber liquid.

“I’ll get you something but it’ll be huge. You’re tiny.” He didn’t answer your question, but he’s back with a soft gray shirt and black shorts. You sigh, smiling gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Toru.”

“Shut it with the nickname, brat. Go get out of that dress, mmkay. Bathroom is right there.” He points and you take a sip of the whiskey first, letting it burn, walking over to Satoru’s bathroom and changing then, his clothes are so long on you, but they’re comfy and soft.

You tie the shorts as tight as they go, peeking at your dress and lingerie, folding them with a frown, as it hits you. Suguru Geto, the man you really thought you were in love with, hadn’t even cared to see you in it. He hadn’t found you good enough to even cuddle with, to even… and you’re just done with him, now. How did someone so perfect become so…

Awful. Suguru was awful.

You weren’t the best, no you’re here with his best friend, aren’t you? But you only feel slightly better knowing you are done, but you know that this will lead to so much more drama, but you couldn’t not come here. There was so much there, in the energy between Satoru Gojo and you, that you are consumed with it.

Your phone buzzes, and you peek at it, only to see his name, and you damn near want to throw the fucking phone.

Suguru : Princess, please don’t let this be over. I am so sorry… can we please talk? I can’t wait until tomorrow.

You: Suguru I said we’d talk but I can’t. I am done. I don’t want to be treated second best any longer. Please just let it go.

Suguru: We are not done. You can’t just say that, you can’t just do that, where even are you? Let me come over.

You: And leave Shoko alone? No, don't be so rude. Treat her better than you did me.

Suguru: I don’t love her, can’t you see? I was just… hurt by how close you and Satoru were.

You scoff, rolling your eyes and glaring at the goddamn phone.

You: Bullshit. You ignored me last time with her. You can’t just blame Toru for all our problems.

Suguru: Toru!? You call him a nickname? The man that called you unattractive just Friday, the one who is mean as fuck to you? Now I know he is the problem. Me and you will fix this.

You: There is nothing to fix. There’s no us.

Suguru: You can’t mean that. Give me a chance, to show how important you are to me, to show love. We won’t play around anymore. I see that it’s hurt you and I feel like shit.

You: I’m sorry but no, it’s more than that. This isn’t fixable. You couldn’t even cuddle with me? I just felt so alone.

Your tears well back up as those sounds hit, you’re so perfect , it nearly incapacitates you.

Suguru: Just let me come see you. I can’t just write to you. Did you not even really love me at all? How can you love someone and leave?

You: I thought I was in love with you, but I don’t even know you.

Suguru: You do know me. Just let me fix it, let me make you feel special, we can get away from here and just be alone.

You: No. Throw out anything I left, and do me a favor, treat Shoko better than you did me. Wish you the best. Goodbye, Suguru.

You ignore anything else he says now, putting the phone on silent, hyperventilating damn near as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. The phone is buzzing and vibrating, shaking in a circle, and he’s calling you, so you say fuck it, and hold down the power button.

What are you doing at his best friend’s house? What future could you and Satoru have, as his best friend… if Satoru even wanted that. At the moment it seems you two are just sexual. Very sexual. Mind blowingly Sexual actually, but hate sex doesn’t equal relationship. But do you even want one?

Or do you want to feel Satoru Gojo’s lips on every inch of your body?

Want to see his eyes when they go insane blue?

Want him to say those horrible things, call you a slut, a whore even,  want him to cum in you?

Fuck.

You’re overheated, your brain is just mush, with exhaustion, heartache and something more, something new. An obsession growing with the white haired man out there waiting for you, the one who you ran to, the one who hates you. He does hate you, doesn’t he?

But his hate feels better than Suguru’s ‘love’.

You shake it off, walking out now and Satoru’s hungry gaze rakes over you, as he’s sipping his own drink, the room is dimly lit in soft light, bathing his perfect shirtless body in an ethereal glow. You eye him greedily, every beautiful muscle, every cut and line on his well formed frame.

“So, have a seat, brat.” He taps the stool next to the bar, and you rest your arms on the granite countertop, sighing as he sits next to you. “What happened?”

“He… I… Oh, shit…” You’re crying, then, and Satoru hesitates, watching as you try to swipe your tears off your face. “Sorry, fuck.”

“So it was bad. Huh?” You exhale, nodding then.

“So… Suguru has a rule that we don’t play once one of us is done, he’s always had this rule. But I woke up and… I was alone. I figured he must be crashed on the couch, but…”

“Oh shit.” He wipes a hand down his face, sighing.

“Y-yeah. Um he… well they were fucking. Obviously. But it wasn’t even that, I could forgive it even though it’s hurtful-”

“What!? Why would you forgive that? Him breaking every rule he’s created like some game.” Satoru’s anger is clear in his voice, and you tremble a bit at it. “And he sure didn’t fucking want to let you come here, so what he plays with women on his own and you have to listen ?”

“I know. I know it’s fucked up. But I would forgive him if not for-”

“You’re stupid.”

You glare at him, as you both angrily sip your drink. “Let me finish if you want to know what happened. Stop cutting me off.”

“Well if you weren’t talking so stupid I would. Why in the hell would you take him fucking in the guest room when he said, right in front of me mind you, that he would be cuddling with you.”

“I’m hurt as fuck, okay!? I am not saying it’s not so hurtful. But I get it that he wants her a lot. That I’m not enough-”

“So fucking stupid. You’re a whole idiot to think that.”

“Satoru let me finish!”

He grimaces, rolling his eyes, his white lashes fluttering, and then he touches you, hand on your thigh. You shiver at it, at the first physical contact from Satoru Gojo, alone. “Did you break up with him?”

“Yes. I did. He wouldn’t let me go unless I promised to talk to him later, he was like blocking me by the door. Trying to explain. Anyway it’s not that he fucked her, yeah it hurt, but it was what he said to her. I can’t-”

“You’re done with him though?”

Your eyes meet his, and you see it, the desperation in them, when he cups your face, studying you. “Yes I am done, I can't do it anymore. I texted him just now to let me go and have fun with Shoko-”

“So, you're done with him? Not gonna go back?”

“Done. He even did this ‘I love you’ fake confession.” Satoru snorts at that, rolling his eyes. “Satoru you won’t let me finish a sentence for shit, by the way.”

“You’ll finish all over my mouth in just a few minutes. Hurry up now.” You blink a bit then, lips parted as you gasp at his words, as his hand on your thigh squeezes, squishing the plush of your thigh with his huge grip.

“Thought you hated me?”

“Finish the reason you’re so upset, aside from the obvious. Before I occupy this pretty mouth.” His gaze is on your lips now, you involuntarily lick the lower one, making him moan.

“Jesus christ.” You sigh, and he releases you for a moment, you struggle to focus, to think. “He’s your best friend, though.”

“Yeah I know, but the way he acted around you? I don’t know where that’s coming from. I couldn’t figure out why he’d share you till I saw him with Shoko and he just ignored you. Who could ignore you!? When I saw that I just…”

“Yeah. He was moaning, loud too like he clearly didn’t care, but then he said she was perfect, the most perfect and I just-I just-” You feel a fresh onslaught of tears then, and Satoru scowls down at you.

“You’re so perfect I hate you, remember? Fuck that.” You moan when he yanks your head back, gripping you by the nape of your neck.

“Toru you say that but I don’t know why. I don’t know what you see to make you think it. I’m a bartender that drives a beetle-”

“With eyelashes on it too.” You giggle a bit, breathless in his grasp, but he’s so serious as his fingers are sliding up under his shorts, and you’re getting wet just from that. “Terrible taste in aesthetics aside, you’re so gorgeous it kills me.”

“Satoru…” You whisper, as he’s leaned close, his sweet breath on your lips and you drink it in, his desire, his words.

“You are, goddamn brat. Don’t expect sappy fucking words, don’t expect me to call you a Princess, but I’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget anything he said. Anything he did.”

“Satoru!” You cry out when he finds you, slick and dripping already.

“Did he touch you at all? When I left?” He’s rubbing your clit in little circles, and you moan, shaking your head. “He’s so stupid. When I’m finished with you? There will be nothing left for him. You’ll feel nothing for him anymore.”

His dark words scare you a bit, but your pussy is too wet for you to care, in fact you’re soaking his hand more and more, hands clinging to his bare shoulders, as you ache to kiss him, but he holds just out of reach. His blue eyes stare at you so hungrily you can’t function, the energy between you both so vivid you could touch it, could feel it in every breath.

“I hate you, Satoru.” You whisper, blinking back tears before gasping out at how good his fingers play you, pressing on your little clit.

“Yeah, do you baby?” He huffs out the words.

“If you never looked at me like that, if you never acted like that, I’d have never known Suguru didn’t really want me.” You speak through your tears, breathy as your cheeks tinge pink, and Satoru slides a finger inside of you, his lips parting.

“He’s fucking stupid, how could he not want you? Look at you. Kill me just existing, soaking my hand and making that face?” You cry out when he’s crooking his finger inside you, when the other hand grips your neck, you’re melting in his grip, you crave him so much.

“The things you say fuck me up.” You whine out, then moan again as he hits that spot inside you.

“I haven’t started fucking you up yet, baby.” He slides his hand out and you feel empty, then he’s picking you up like you’re nothing, sitting you up on the high bar then, sliding your shorts down your thighs. You shiver as the cool air hits your overheated cunt and his eyes eat it up, licking his lower lip.

“Toru…” He scowls, gripping your hips tight, fingers pressing into your pelvis now, as he leans his head down, snowy white hair falling over a perfect brow.

“Now I can finally take my fucking time, lick you till you beg for me to stop, but I won’t.” You whine at that, bucking your hips up and he smirks down at you. “Beg for me, for me to give this slutty little pussy what she needs.”

“Please, please… I want your mouth on me.” You beg, and Satoru laughs now, his breath so hot on your sensitive little cunt you scream out, legs shaking just from that, as he pulls your lips apart.

“Make you forget his name, forget he ever touched you.” The possessive words and how wild his eyes are make you lose any sense of anything, you grab at his silky white hair then, as he’s still just breathing on you.

“Then get down there, Satoru. Make me forget.” He growls, then he’s buried himself between your thighs, hungry as he laps up the wetness dripping down your slit, you arch your back, gasping. “Satoru!”

“Slutty little cunt,” he’s whispering against you, nipping at your clit with his teeth, the sensation making your tummy clench, making your entire body overheat, and then he devours you, and it’s nothing like what he did with the threesome, no he’s lapping every inch of you up, shoving his tongue in your entrance, nose bumping your sensitive little clit.

You’re pulsing around the wet muscle inside your walls, and his groan vibrates against you, until you’re cumming all over his face, head smacking back on the counter as you see stars.

“Oh my f-fuck- ah Toru!” He’s lavishing you up, every bit of your cunt now, drinking up everything he makes pour from you, and you can’t handle it, your legs are shaking in his tight grip. “Oh my god! Sensitive…”

“Hey brat, so who is Suguru to you?” Satoru asks, darkly, and you blink in confusion then, as you come down from your high.

“My… I guess my ex now? Ah fuck!” He smacks your pussy then, smirking and shaking his head as you glare. “The fuck?”

“When I’m done you won’t be able to answer.” His words drive you insane, that look on his perfect face, as he pulls back, spreading your lips of your sex wide and the saliva is spit from his mouth onto your pussy.

Satoru’s POV

God just look at you, spread wide on his counter, all flushed from having cum all over his face, and fuck you tasted so good, you’re dripping down his chin. Now he’s watching his spit fall on this perfect cunt of yours, watching it drip down all clear, bubbly and sticky, mixing with the stupid amount of wetness drooling out between these puffy lips of yours.

He watches as it hits that tiny clit, just dripping, and he reaches down to spread it around, smirking as you look down at him, back arched, still in his huge shirt but he sees those nipples poking right out, sees your mouth loll open. He bends down then, spreading you even wider, finger running down and feeling that slick heat, before sinking one inside you, making you cry out again.

“Satoru!” Your name on his lips ignites a fire in him, and he’s so hard it physically hurts, he uses one hand to adjust himself in his boxers as the other hits that spot he’s found, the one that makes you tremble and whine. “Ohmy- Satoru!”

“Like that, little slut? Me fingering you right here?” You gasp when he hits your spot again, crooking his finger just so in your little gummy walls, so tight it’s hard for him to sink two in you, but you’re so wet you suck him in. “Right there, baby?”

“Y-yes. There. Oh my… cumm- cumming, fuck…” You’re gripping the edge of the counter so hard your little knuckles are white, your thighs trembling like crazy as he fucks you with two fingers, and you start soaking his hand down to his wrist, pulsing around them and making him groan.

But he’s not done with you, not by a long shot, not until you’re a writhing mess, not until he has you so sweaty and your hair so messy, not until you forget anyone but he exists. The thought of anyone ever inside of this perfect little pussy makes him want to fuck you until you can’t even remember your own name, much less anyone else’s, not when you’re all he can think of.

So Satoru licks up your sweet wetness, flicking his tongue on your clit and watching you fall apart under his licks, and he groans at how sweet you taste. “Satoru s'fucking good, ngh.”

He loves your slurring words, your hips rocking, he pulls back and adds a third finger, stretching you open and watching with rapt attention as your pussy takes him, so eager, so hungry, as you wince in pain, trying to grab at his wrists, but he smacks your little hand away.

“Too much, Toru… it’s too much ah! Please…”

“Who is Suguru, baby?” He whispers, and your eyes roll back when he fucks you with those three fingers, whining and gripping at nothing.

“My ex, he’s my ex. I’m not with him. Please!” He laughs then, shaking his head, and your glazed over eyes meet his, your hips jerking up as you pour wetness down onto his hand again, dripping on the counter.

“Not good enough, not even close.” He huffs, and then he’s got them all the way inside you.

Satoru watches as you are moaning and whining, and that’s what he loves, the way you sound so desperate. He's eating the vision of you up and burning it in his brain as he stretches you beyond your means with those three fingers, and you start bucking up into his hand, your breaths coming in ragged pants as he fucks you faster, harder, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum again, brat, I know you can. You’re so easy, aren’t you?” You just whine, mumbling incoherently, and he starts shoving up your shirt, hand pressing on your soft tummy, making more pressure. “Say it.”

“I’m easy, I’m so easy! Mnh!” Fuck you’re sexy, god he can’t even handle those words, that face, the feeling of your walls clenching him. He can’t wait to cum inside of you, the thought has him leaking through his boxers and his pajamas, a wet spot forming as he dreams of slipping inside.

“That’s right, you’re fucking slutty for me, baby. Cum again, let me feel it.” And he bites down on your plush thigh, just enough to leave a mark, and your eyes roll back as you do exactly that, cumming all over his hand again, your cunt contracting around his fingers so tight it’s like a vice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Satoru !” Your voice is hoarse from screaming, and he loves it, he loves that he’s the one making you feel like this, that he’s the one you’re begging for now. He pulls his fingers out, watching them glisten with your juices, and brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean, watching you watch him do it with a hazy look of desire.

You taste so good. Like honey. He can never get enough now.

And then he’s leaned up, pressing his mouth to yours, brushing back your hair, feeling the sweat beading on your forehead, and he yanks off his shirt you're wearing, revealing those gorgeous tits. “Taste how sweet you are?” You nod, shyly, how can you be shy at this moment he doesn’t know. “I hate how good you taste.”

“Y-you do?” He laughs, harshly, nodding, as he starts sucking on your breasts, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, and then his hand slides back down, his thumb sliding over your clit again, making you jolt. “Satoru it’s too much.”

“Again.” He orders, and your eyes lock with his in a daze. “You’ll cum again, and again, and again, until it’s only me.”

Satoru presses up on your swollen little clit and you make that little whine from the back of your throat, the sound that entices him to no end, the sound that wrecks him. You’re clinging to him now, little hands pulling at his hair and making him leak that precum more, as he delights in sucking each perky nipple into his mouth, as your back arches.

“Satoru I can’t again. Please.” You whimper once more, and he chuckles, looking up at you.

“Cum one more time and I’ll fuck you, like the pretty whore you are.” Your eyes go wide, your lips parting, and your pretty breasts are heaving right in front of his face, while you drip down his fingers, slippery. “So wet I can’t keep my fingers on your clit, such a slut for me, huh?”

“For you.” Those words wreck him, and when he slams his lips on yours, and you lick yourself off him greedily, he doesn’t know if he can hang on much longer. The heat from your little body, pressed against him, as he flicks his fingers on your clit side to side, until you’re drooling from your lips and your cunt. It’s too much for him.

“For me, you sure? Not lying to me?” You shake your head, screaming out then and clutching his shoulders with your manicured nails, the pink glittery ones that he hates, making him hiss in pain and pleasure.

“N-not lying, Toru! Ngh! Please!” You have tears in your beautiful eyes, fuck he had never even seen that exact color, that’s why you haunt him so, why are you so beautiful as you cum again, panting and shivering in his grasp.

“Good girl.” He murmurs finally, and he sees it, the look on your face, you’re cock drunk on him, dazed and listless. He picks you up, and you eagerly wrap your legs around his bare waist, your hands clinging to him. Your head falls back, and he’s sucking on your delicate throat, so tiny he can’t wait to wrap his big hand around it once more.

“I’ve never felt like this. Ever.” You whisper, and he pulls back to look at you, at the tears running down your long lashes, dripping little trails of black mascara. Those words he could have never thought true.

“I hate you.” He whispers, to make it true, to avoid the truth , but instead of getting upset, you cling to him, lips just a breath away.

“Fuck me like you hate me then.”

Fuck .

Your POV

At that Satoru Gojo is carrying you to his room in long, sure strides, his mouth brutal as it works over yours, his grip so tight you can’t breathe. You are trembling in his hold, as the aftershocks of the nonstop orgasms are still pulsing in your little cunt, sore from how much he’d stretched you out, but fuck you loved it, you wanted even more, you want everything.

Fuck Satoru made you feel so good, even with his harsh words and tone, even with the rough way he’s grabbing you, you want it, you need it. Satoru Gojo consumes every bit of you, as you feel his panting breaths on your lips, the only sign that he’s as lost in this as you, the rest of him showed this insane confidence.

“Want me to fuck you like I hate you?” Satoru murmurs, and you nod eagerly, as he’s slamming you on his stupidly big comfy bed. It’s got four huge posters that you briefly imagine being tied to, before he’s sliding off his pants and you see his pretty, long cock bounce out.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmur, without thinking, and Satoru scowls, gripping you by the hair and making you look up at him.

“You’re so beautiful you haunt me.” At that your mouth is just wide open, but he has you flipped within moments, on your hands and knees on the bed, and he’s pulling at your hair again. “Arch your back.”

You shiver at the command, obeying instantly, and then he’s lined up with your entrance, whining out. “Satoru, please…”

“So desperate.” He’s plunged his cock into you then, to the hilt this time, and you’re screaming out at how deep he hits, his big hands gripping your hips now, your head just falls forward, and you hear his moan behind you.

Your hands dig into his expensive blanket, soft and plush in your stupidly tight grip, and then he starts moving and fuck he moves hard. He’s thrusting hard, his cock dragging along your walls, so thick it’s stretching you beyond your means. You’re gushing as he slams into you, again and again, rougher than you’ve had, rougher than you can handle.

“Fuck you like I hate you, huh?” He huffs, working over you, and then one hand shoves your head into the mattress, muffling your cries, as he bends forward and keeps stroking inside of you, bruising your cervix with each hit, the smacks echo inside Satoru’s room.

“Mnhh…” You just moan into the mattress, it’s hard to breathe between the thrusts that are wrecking your little cunt, as he works on you brutally, but you’re close, you feel it, throbbing around his cock, and he pauses for a moment.

“Fuck it’s like you’re made for me.” You hear him whisper, and then he’s fucking you slower, pressing in so deep he’s inside your cervix, yanking your hair back up and your hair is falling all over your sweaty forehead as he pulls you. You’re helpless in his hold, all you can do is whimper. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Y-yes. S’much I… love it.” He pauses again, breathless and rolling his hips then, making you fall apart. “Cumming, cumming… mnh!” You scream out, shattering around him, gushing down his length, and he groans, hand digging into your hip so hard it’s bruising. You’re cumming so hard you’re shaking violently, unable to catch a breath, it’s like you’re suffocating on him.

“Who is Suguru to you?” You whine as he pushes you down on your tummy now, sprawling prone position on top of you with his long body. “Asked you a - ha - question, fucking brat.”

“ Satoru… I-I can’t…” He groans over you, his breath hot on your neck as he brushes your hair off it, running his tongue along the side as he’s pressing deep inside, and you’re close to falling off the edge of the Earth. So much pleasure you see stars burst behind your eyes, dripping down to his fancy blankets, crumpling as he moves over you.

“Look at me.” You turn your head, your neck sore from earlier, and he cups your chin and you peer into those eyes, bright blue and blown out, his breath on your lips, and you fall…

You’re falling.

How and why?

It’s bad.

Or is his dick that good!?

“Satoru…ah!” You cry out softly as he wraps one arm around to find your clit, so sore and puffy you jerk, causing his cock to hit a spot that feels so good you’re embarrassingly pouring out, cumming again, unable to control anything.

You bite your lower lip as he watches you, so intense, his eyes maddening as he slowly rocks into you, watching every expression on your face. “Answer me, now. Who… is… Suguru to you?” He speaks between thrusts, and your eyes are rolling back in your head. “Ah-ah, look at me.”

He’s blurring right in front as you struggle to focus, to overcome the insane need that he fills you with, his presence is like air. “Wh-what… Satoru I don’t…”

He smirks then, cocky and self assured, like the Satoru you knew. Did you know him then, though?

“Good Girl, that’s what I thought.” He murmurs, and then he’s kissing you, gently now, not fucking you rough, no he’s consuming you with each slow roll of his hips, as his long cock bullies through every barrier.

“S’good, it’s s’good… can’t… think…” Your voice is breathy as you struggle to keep to this existence, but Satoru is pushing you over that edge, as you taste his sweet lips on yours, his tongue swirling with yours, messy, desperate.

“You feel so fucking good. Fuck.” He grunts out those words, releasing your clit to sink two fingers in your mouth, and you’re drooling around them, as his cock’s strokes are harsh, smacking sounds so loud mixed with the squishing of your wetness.

“Ah! Ah oh my god…” You scream out sloppily around his thick fingers, ass arching against his abdomen for even more of the brutal thrusts. They fuck you up so good you truly can’t function, just a whimpering mess under him.

“Who is Suguru?” He huffs again, and lets his fingers slide out of your lips, to wrap around your little throat, taking over you. Your eyes flutter shut, and he squeezes tightly, sucking out your oxygen. “Look at me, with those eyes that torture me.”

You can’t figure his words out, you don’t even know where you are, all you can do is blink stupidly and gasp as he works over you. “I don’t know.”

He moans then, sounding so sexy, hot against your mouth, sweat dripping from his chest onto your back, as he grinds between your thighs. “I’m gonna cum in this perfect pussy, I’m gonna fill you up so full, got me baby?”

You nod weakly, your little hands reaching up, one cupping his face, the prettiest face that holds so much anger, but now how he looks? Like he’s as blissful as you, drunken gaze damn near, and he seems vulnerable for just that moment. His words sink in, what he’s going to do, something you never have, but your cunt merely tightens around him in excitement.

“I want you to, Satoru.” You whisper, his thin white brows sink low over his eyes, long white lashes covering half of those baby blues, as he lightly squeezes your throat, sighing against your mouth.

“You’ve never?” He asks, and you shake your head just a centimeter or two, making him groan. “Good. Good I want to be the first to fill you. And not just once, I’ll keep filling you, till you can’t walk out of this bed.”

His dark words should scare you, but now, you’re starting to build into another climax, though he’s barely moving now, it’s all you, grinding eagerly, helplessly for more of him, fuck you can’t get enough of him. He’s squeezing your throat ever so gently, but putting more and more pressure, until you feel like you’re floating, now you feel him throbbing, thickening so deep.

“Fill me up, please . Toru… I want it.” He groans, slamming his lips on yours, then he’s rolling his hips, shuddering behind you, crying out all his pleasure into your lips, you drink it greedily, crying out as he presses in so deep you can’t remember where he ends and you begin, losing more breath as he overtakes you.

“Need you to take it all, like a good little slut. Just for me.” You just whine, and now hot white puffy ropes of Satoru’s cum are filling your eager hole, and you scream out, choking nearly as he groans, gripping you so tight as he’s drooling into your mouth. “Mmm… f-fuck…”

He’s stuttering as he groans, as he keeps filling you, and you’re cumming so hard you’re shaking, his cum and yours just gushing down his cock, down your thighs, sticky and messy, and he’s still pumping. Your head falls to the side, against Satoru’s forehead, and he’s crying out in your ear, hand releasing your throat just to grip your hair, pushing his cum deeper inside you.

“S-Satoru… Satoru…” You’re whining, tears streaming down your cheeks, and he whimpers right with you, trembling arms around you, his breath on your ear, tickling it, every sense is heightened.

“Why do you have to feel so perfect?” He grunts the words, and you just pathetically whine, you’re incapable of anything else. “Smell so good, taste so good, look so good… now I feel this .” He thrusts again, and you’re so oversensitive you’re sobbing now, so sore as he’s still hard and thick in you.

“It’s too much. It’s all too much.” You sob out the words, and he chuckles a bit, husky as he turns your face to meet his, gripping your cheeks.

“You’re pushing it all out, baby. That won’t do.” You tense, and he’s off you then, flipping you on your back and looming over you, eyes locked on yours. “I need you to take it all, remember?”

“I did… what-ah! Fuck, too much no!” You’re squirming as he’s shoving his cum that’s slid out of you back in, grinning deviously as he watches you fall apart. “Too sensitive, too-”

“No, baby you can take it like a perfect little slut for me. Can’t you?” He cooes those words, shoving his long fingers in your sore little cunt again, and you can’t stop the tears, breasts heaving and drawing his attention. He begins sucking on them, leaving red marks shimmering with his saliva, messy kisses everywhere as he shoves more inside you.

Your fingernails grip his shoulders, hips bucking under his touch. “Satoru I can’t even fucking breathe. Please.”

“Oh baby I’m just getting started with you.”

You cry out in pain as he shoves even more, and it’s just pouring down his long fingers with the pressure in your tummy as you’re just dripping out. You blink a bit, sputtering stupidly, as he finally lets your cunt go and slips those fingers into his own mouth, moaning.

Fuck he’s hot.

“Satoru…”

“We taste perfect together. I fucking knew we would.” He’s on top of you, his hot, hard chest drenched in sweat, his big hands cupping your face, taking you over. “Wanna taste us baby?”

You nod, weakly and he chuckles. “Y-yes. I want to.”

“Hmm…” He takes more of both of you, shoving it in his mouth, then he’s pressing his other fingers on your lips. “Open.”

You do as he says, then he’s spitting in your mouth, a mix of your wetness, his cum and saliva, and you eagerly let him, though this is far beyond anything you’ve done. This is insane shit you see in porn right? But no, Satoru Gojo is spitting in your mouth, once, twice, three times, grinning then down at you.

“Swallow. Now.” You eagerly do as he bids, letting the salty liquid slips down your throat, and he moans, you feel him rock hard on your inner thigh again, as his pretty blue eyes are so bright it hurts. “Open up, lemme see.” You do as he says again, fuck any command Satoru Gojo made right now you’d do. “Good girl.”

“Holy fuck.” He chuckles, and you yank him down, slamming your lips up to his, and his laugh stops, he’s groaning in your mouth, hands sliding up your body slowly, squeezing every curve. “What even is this? Is this normal for you?” You whisper then, leaning back, and his lips thin into a line.

“No, it’s not. I need you. Again.” He’s yanking your thighs apart, and you shake your head nervously. “Aw, sore baby?”

“Yes I’m sore! You’re huge, and I came too much!” He’s grinning, and you roll your eyes then. “You sure love my pussy for hating me.”

“I hate how much I love it. How much I need it. If I never tasted it, if I never knew… I could have pictured it wasn’t this good. But fuck you for it.” You scowl now, and he’s grinning even wider at it. “You’re gorgeous angry. Hate how much I love that too.”

“I hate how much your dick fucks my mind up. How much you fuck my mind up.” He’s laughing again, lips on yours, smacking kisses as he pulls your hips down, and he’s pressing against you again. You whine out in pain. “Psycho.”

“Oh baby you have no idea.” He’s back inside you, and you scream out, in a mix of pleasure and pain, gripping him tight on his strong arms as he looms over you, his eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. “Oh my fuck… it’s always so perfect.”

“Satoru, so so sore… please go easy.” You whisper, breathless, and you imagine he’d laugh, fuck you harder… but his eyes lock, and he leans down, brushing your messy hair back and stroking your cheek.

“I won’t hurt you.” His words carry far too much weight, and it’s like you see a different side of him suddenly, you nervously bite your lip and hiss as he slides out and in your little cunt. “I need more of you. More.”

“Then take it.” He groans and slams his lips down on you, down your face, down your neck, his grip and kisses so hard as his cock gently rocks inside you, not trying to hurt you, but your walls are so wrecked it still stings. But it’s so good , the burn, the pressure, the stretch, that you’re teetering off the fucking edge again. “Oh my god, you feel so… fuck so good in me, Toru.”

“Hate that name from your perfect lips.” He hisses those words, kissing your lips again to shut you up, rolling his hips up and grinding the leaking tip against your g spot, and you start spasming, screaming out as the pressure explodes, and you cum again, getting weak now, clinging to him. “Can’t take it, can you? Did he not fuck you good enough, baby?”

“Wh-who? What? Huh- ah! Toru!” He’s smiling against your lips now, perfect full lips curling up on the sides, resting his forehead on yours as he steadily pumps, so easy with you.

“Gonna fill this pretty pussy again. You’ll be dripping me out for days, won’t you baby?” Your eyes roll back, as your hips arch off the bed and he’s pressing in, then he does something… so intimate, entwining his hands in yours, fingers interlocking. You’re trembling as he raises them above your head.

You look up at him, chest heaving with the effort it takes to breathe anymore, as his scent fills your nostrils, mixed with the sex in the room of both of your bodies, and you’re soaking him with each easy push inside you. He inhales, and he has no right to be so attractive, no right to make you feel so much, no right to hold your goddamn hands like he loves you.

He hates you.

“Look at you.” You bite your lip, eyelashes lowering over your eyes, glazed over from being fucked so good. “You’re too pretty. It makes me so fucking mad.”

“Why? Why do you say shit like this? Ah!” He presses in, hands squeezing yours, glittering blue eyes eating up your every feature as he moans.

“Because it’s true. I need you to be mine. Do you fucking get it?” He’s let one hand go, the other cupping your cheek, thumb under your chin and pressing in so deep you’re screaming, pulsing around him, pressure in your tummy so intense it’s difficult to form a word or a thought.

“Yours? You don’t want that.” He scoffs, scowling down and shoving in so deep he’s in your damn stomach, fuck you feel Satoru in your throat, choking you up, tears back in your eyes as it’s too overwhelming.

“You don’t know what I want, fucking brat.” Your eyes go wide, and he glares down at you then. “You don’t know how you kill me.”

“I don’t mean to. Mnh Toru! Fuck it’s too much.”

“No, you do it by existing. You’re made to ruin me.” You’re shaking your head, so confused by him, but fuck if those words and that look don’t make you fall deeper into the abyss that is Satoru Gojo.

“That’s you for me. Ruin me though. I w-want you to.” He growls nearly, slamming his lips down and going hard for just a minute, ripping through your already wrecked cunt, and you’re screaming, head lolling to the side and he’s biting your neck with those sharp teeth, surely bruising you.

“Baby I haven’t ruined you like you have me. But I will. Beg for it, for me to fill you up. Breed this pussy.” His words make you shudder, cumming hard and trying to cling to him, to keep tethered to earth, but everything is slipping.

“Pl-ease, Toru, please. Cum in me.” He’s hoarsely grunting, drips of his sweat from his brow landing on your lips, as he works over you, hungry, his cock thickening impossibly again.

“Cum with me, be a good girl yeah?” You nod eagerly, and he picks up the pace, hurting your sore little cunt in the worst way, your thighs squeezing his hips tightly, until you feel him again. “F-fuck… oh my god!”

He’s whimpering in your ear as he clings to you, pumping you so full you can’t take it, your nails digging in hard, marring his perfect skin as you’re pulsing all around him and he’s hot inside you. Fuck he cums more than last time some how, and you feel so rubbed raw as the heat spreads, as it drips all down your lips and down his shaft, and he pumps slow, looking down at you.

“You cryin’?” He whispers, and you just nod, as he brushes those tears, kissing you so passionately you’ve felt nothing like it in your life. You sob against his lips, and he sips up your salty tears with every kiss, more desperate than the last, his hands so tight on your face it hurts. “Who’s Suguru?”

You blink at that, taking a trembling breath, choking on your sobs, feeling his hunger, his madness, and it’s taking you over. Wrecking your mind, your heart, your very soul is ripped apart and bare under him. He’s watching carefully, studying you with those dilated eyes, and you raise your own hands, cupping his face.

“No one.” He moans at your answer, pulling you up against his body, squeezing you so tight you’re breathless, Satoru is your breath.

“That’s right, baby. It’s all me, isn’t it?” You nod weakly, and he exhales, kissing you over and over, sliding out of you, and it’s so messy, all the cum he’d pumped in you, you wince at the pain you feel pulsing in you.

“It’s nothing but you.” His eyes water then for a moment, making them brilliant like sapphires, but they were prettier than any gem could be.

“Now you have a taste of what I’ve gone through since we met.” You shake your head in confusion.

“You can have anyone.”

“I sure can. But it’s you who haunts me. Every goddamn minute.” You try to understand him but it’s difficult to feel so desired, so needed. And by Satoru Gojo of all people. Just earlier today Suguru was holding you, but he seems so distant, it’s like you can’t remember anything but Satoru now.

What this man does.

He looks down at your cunt as he sits back on his knees, smirking and touching your slit, making you suck in a breath. “Satoru, it really hurts.”

“I see it, all red and swollen. Beat up. Poor little pussy.” He bends down, kissing it with a loud smack, and laughing as your hips jerk, your legs still shaking violently.

“Fuck is this where you kick me out? Because you’re gonna have to carry me out. I’m fucked.” He smirks, looking down at you, the mess he’d made.

“We’ll go clean you up, then you can stay here and get cuddles. From me. Is that what you want though?”

“You’d cuddle me, Satoru Gojo?”

“Why not. I’m the best at it.”

“But you hate me.” He smiles, easing you up, your entire body is boneless and you feel like fainting damn near. He takes in every bite mark, every hickey, every place he’d grabbed that’s bright red, your tears down your sticky cheeks.

“The thought of you in my arms kills me.” You gasp, and he’s turned away then, helping you up on wobbly legs. “Let’s clean up. Shower?”

“I’ll just sit there, I’m wrecked.” He snorts, then bends down, scooping you up in his big arms.

“You’re such a prissy brat. Do I gotta carry you everywhere?” You’re blushing, being in his arms like this? His hands under your thighs as the other holds you right under your breasts?

Fuck.

You’d let this man carry you to hell. What even was this man?

Inhuman level fuck!?

You can’t form a coherent thought aside from your throbbing cunt, so sore you will feel it for days, and the beautiful man holding you carefully, like he cared, but he didn’t and he couldn’t. Was this a game to him, were you a pawn in something? Or did he truly want you that much? There’s no way, right?

Satoru’s POV

Satoru carries you like the delicate little doll you are, even as he complains he relishes holding you so close. Your arm is around his neck, your other hand pressed on his chest, over his heart, where it pounds for you. He carries you to his huge bathroom, watching your face, but you don’t even look at the marble tiles and the gorgeous fixtures, no you look at him .

Your eyes are stuck on his face, wide, tears dried on your cheeks, fuck you look beautiful crying, crying for him . You’re so full of him, aren’t you? You can’t even focus on anything, with your glazed over eyes, with your reddened lips, bit and sucked by him. Your perfect breasts are covered in red spots, as they gently heave up and down with your shaky breaths.

Fuck now that he’s cum in you, he can’t ever let you go.

How could he even let you leave, let you go to work, when now he wants to keep you here forever, he wants to keep cumming in you, so much you’ll get pregnant with his babies. Fuck the thought of that gets him hard again, and even he is sore, cumming so much for you, inside you, your walls having sucked every greedy drop, as your eyes had rolled back in your head.

Seeing you cum was so fucking beautiful it punched him in the gut, but to cum with you!? To taste how good your arousal was mixed with him? And for you to have just swallowed too… it was like anything he said, you did without hesitation, cock drunk off him and dazed. Could you truly feel that way for him too?

No, there was no way you were as obsessed as him.

Satoru remembers the day he met you as he sits you up on his sink, turning to run the hot shower, watching the waterfall as it heats up, starting to steam up the bathroom. You patiently wait, he watches your shaky hands on your lap, as you’re completely naked for him, as if you’re nervous, crossing your arms just a little bit, making him yank them down.

“Don’t ever hide your body from me.” He speaks through gritted teeth, and you shyly look down, nodding, letting him brush your hair back. It’s messy and damn from all of your exertions. “I dreamed of your body.”

“Why, Satoru? I’m still confused.” Your voice is shaky and soft, like it took effort for you to speak.

“Why? What a stupid fucking question.” He runs his hands over every perfect curve of you, watching your skin trail in goosebumps, watching your every sense come alive under his touch.

“Thank you, Satoru.” You murmur, sliding you little hands up his chest, then down his abdomen, fuck it feels so good he trembles. You make him whimper, tremble, shake… the fuck did you do to him!?

“Thanks for what?”

Your eyes land back at his, your lashes spiky from crying, your cheeks are flushed, a blush decorating even your little nose. “Thank you for tonight.”

He should be thanking you, fuck you make no sense.

“For cumming in you?”

Now you’re bright red, looking away again. You always get so shy over nothing, he notices, tilting your chin back up, and he sees something in your gaze that tears his fucking chest out. How could you feel the same, he’s an idiot, there is no way… is it because you came so much? Is it an afterglow?

“No, thank you for making me feel beautiful. Special.” He frowns then, because he has not even begun to worship your body.

“You’re a beautiful, annoying fucking brat. Who I still hate.”

You smile a bit. “You hate me for existing, huh.”

“Sure fucking do. C’mon, let’s clean up.” He drags you to the tiled shower, the water scalding hot, pulling you under the spray, watching rivulets drip down your perfect body, the one you always try to hide, the one he’ll never let you feel insecure about again if he has a say. “I said don’t hide.”

“S-sorry, Satoru.” You stand taller, shoulders back, making your tits all perky and making him stupid.

“Fuck you.” You blink, rightfully confused, and he sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fuck you for being so pretty.”

You giggle a bit then, and your smile? Fuck it makes him ache. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, it will crush him, if you don’t end up being his. He’s never had you like this, had every part of you, and now his hands grip your arms, making your laugh sober a bit, as that faded look of desire hits your pretty face.

“Am I funny to you?” You shake your head, stepping closer, against Satoru’s body, so small and soft and perfect.

“I just really don’t get you. You're stupidly pretty. Why do you find me…”

“That insecurity shit will get this pussy wrecked again. I’ll fuck you till you forget you have an insecurity. Got me?” Your lips part, and you look confused, brows drawing together.

“It’s like you care about me, Satoru.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Just annoying is all.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Stop smirking brat. Let me wash you.” His hands suds up, and he caresses every bit of your silky smooth skin, relishing in every gasp, every whine, every time your eyes flutter shut. Every time that head falls back.

“Fuck this feels good.” You murmur, as he’s washing your lucious hair, piling it up and then getting the shower head to rinse the suds out. God this is what he never dreamed of, pampering you, just for a moment.

You deserve everything.

Would you truly be his though?

Soon you all are drying up, and you’re in his clothes from earlier, the sunlight streaming in, birds tweeting loud and annoying, the sound of cars passing by all in the distance. You’re glowing, a small smile on your gorgeous face, as you dry your hair on a fluffy white towel, and Satoru’s heart thuds in his chest, words stuck in his throat at how the sun rising illuminates your skin.

You’re so beautiful.

Not a speck of that makeup you always wear, your hair is drying all stringy and wavy, not straightened like he notices you do. You always make sure you look perfect, but how perfect are you like this? And how can he tell you, how can he open up, when he’s terrified.

“You look good without makeup.” Fuck, that’s all Satoru can manage, huh, but you smile softly, looking down a bit.

“Oh, thank you. I don’t usually go without any.”

“Well you don’t need it.” He’s being too nice. “You do it stupidly anyway, too much pink shit.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “Uh huh. I do like blush.”

“Welp you’re always bright red around me.”

“And will I be around you?” You both go silent, and Satoru feels like someone punched him in his stomach, until you walk up to him, taking him by the hands. “Or now that you got what you wanted will you tell me to fuck off.”

“What!? You’re so stupid.” He glares down at you, and you glare back, and fuck if you angry didn’t make him hard.

He’s always hard around you.

“Well I mean you hate me, where does this go?”

He doesn’t know what to say. How does Satoru tell you he’s wanted you since the moment he walked into that bar you worked at, and you hadn’t even seen him, no you were working. But he had watched you, sitting back at a table, terrified of the insane feeling he had, only to leave and tell Suguru.

Then guess who Suguru comes in with just a couple of weeks later?

You.

And he had to act like it was fine. Because he’d been too scared to come up to you, and why? Satoru could pull any woman, he’d had countless models, actresses, wealthy women, beautiful women. But you outshined any woman, not just your gorgeous looks, everything about you. And now he has a chance, but he’s scared again, he hates you making him feel this way.

“I’m not just having this be one night. No fucking way, brat. Think you’re getting off easy huh?” You bite that lower lip, and he pulls it out of your teeth’s grip with a thumb, frowning down at you. “Stop eating your lips off. How can I kiss them?”

“Oh Satoru… fuck.” You’re tearing up again, and he sighs.

“Crybaby.”

“Shut it. You say sweet things then hide them being a dick . You scared of something?”

You know him so well how?

But he glares.

“Nah, just saying. You’re not getting off so easy. Well… you do get off easy, don’t you baby?” He cooes, all condescending as he pulls you to him, but you melt at his words, melt at everything he says.

“You want to do this again? Are you sure? What about…”

“Don’t bring it up. And want isn’t the word. I need this again.”

“Satoru…”

“Shut up and come to bed. It’s morning, you’ve kept me up all goddamn night and I need some sleep.” He drags you now, and soon he’s spooning you, and fuck you feel so right in his arms.

He hates that you were in Suguru’s arms.

He hates that Suguru is his best friend and right now he hates him. He hates everything about you.

“This is so nice, ugh.” You whisper, sinking into his embrace, your ass pressed back against his lap, as he inhales the sweet scent of your skin from the shower, you’re so warm against him. “I run hot, so you know.”

“Well I get cold, so fuck it.” You giggle, fuck he loves that sound, but when you look back he’s glaring. He can’t let you know how stupidly happy you make him by just breathing near him. “What?”

“Nothing. You feel comfy, Satoru.” You brush his drying hair back, and he damn near purrs, nothing feels better than your fingers against his scalp.

“Comfy huh?” You just nod, smiling softly, and you lean up a bit.

“Is it cool to kiss outside of sex? Or is that all this is.” Satoru’s heart is pounding, his tips of his ears red as he burns up at that.

“Is that all you want? Me to fuck you stupid.”

“No, it’s not all I want. But if it’s all it is, I’ll take it.” He frowns at you then, and you look down, lashes casting shadows on perfect cheeks, over the dark circles under your eyes.

“You’ll take just getting fucked by me, really?”

“Yeah.”

It’s silent for a moment.

“Well that’s not all I want from you.” Your mouth opens, and he just stares at you, as he holds your body close, feeling the heat warm through him. “You can kiss me if you want.”

You lean up and gently brush his lips with yours, god you’re so sweet, and it’s the first time where it wasn’t some prelude to sex. It was just a kiss, and Satoru had never felt anything like it, the warmth spreading through his body as your soft lips work over his, in little pecks, tongue swiping on his lower lip. It’s like you’re ruining him with every sigh you make, every rock of your body.

“You’re a good kisser, Satoru Gojo.” You murmur, and he smirks.

“Of course I am, brat.” You roll your eyes, sighing, and he wishes he could say more, but you’re right, he’s scared.

So scared.

Is this just a dream? One of many?

“Good morning I guess. It’s not night huh.” You turn away, resting your head on the pillow, and his arm wraps your waist, under your breast, a hand gripping one, feeling the soft weight in his hand. You moan slightly, and he has to hold back his own, focusing on trying not to fuck you again.

Because he wants to hold you.

“You deserved cuddles tonight.” He murmurs, and feels you tremble, feels a couple hot tears fall onto his hand.

“I got them. Even better ones.” He can’t stop the stupid smile on his face, he’s so glad you can’t see it. He just clears his throat.

“Going to sleep, shut up now.” You just snuggle against him more, and Satoru Gojo finally gets something he never thought.

You in his arms.

Your round ass on his cock, your tit in his hand, but he’s more focused on your even breathing, on the rise and fall of your delicate shoulders, of how sweet your smell is. How warm you are. Fuck you kill him.

How can he hate you now?

***

Your POV

The door bangs loudly, and you wake up in Satoru’s arms with a jump, he’s wrapped his long arms and legs all around you, his head on yours, and he groans as he hears it, the beating on his door. You turn to look at him, and both of you just know, when his eyes meet yours, and when his lips part, and he sighs.

“One more kiss before the shitshow.” He murmurs, and you eagerly lean up, your heart racing, as his mouth descends, as the door is banging off its damn hinges, and you hear shouting.

“Satoru let me talk to him. He won’t be as mad.” You murmur, but he smirks, shaking his head, as you brush that white mop of hair back.

“Nah, let him be. I know whose cum is dripping out of this cunt.” He winks, and your mouth is wide open, then he’s hopping up. “Yeah yeah, I’m coming.”

You shake as you sit up then, as you realize it’s all gonna crash down, and you pad out barefooted to the living room. Suguru is there, furious and shaking, his hair drawn up in a bun but he looks exhausted. He’s got Satoru in a fierce grip by his throat, and Satoru is just grinning at him.

“What’s up best buddy?” Suguru glares at his tone.

“Why is my girlfriend’s car out front!?” He demands, through gritted teeth, and you walk up then, clearing your throat.

“I’m not your girlfriend.” He glares, letting Satoru go and striding up to you, making you shrink back a bit at his clear anger, his eyes have gone damn near black with it.

“You sure the fuck are, even if you clearly came to get revenge.” You scoff at that, shaking your head as his gaze takes you in.

“It’s not revenge. It’s fucked, I know, I shouldn’t have come here, but we are not together anymore. I ended it.”

“You can’t do that. And you know I’ll forgive this, I know I hurt you, but don’t just end it like this.” He grabs your shoulders so tight you wince. “Have your fun?”

“I had lots of fun.” He scowls, baring his teeth in irritation, and Satoru’s cackling behind him. “I’m not with you anymore. You made your choice.”

“No you ran away into Satoru’s arms just to hurt me.”

“You’re gaslighting her, Sugu, stop.” Suguru turns around, seething, you can feel how mad he is, and Satoru is just grinning like a kid in a candy store.

“This has shit to do with you. Aside from you manipulating her.”

“Me? That’s rich. You’ve been doing that just fine since you met her.” Satoru dodges a hit, as Suguru’s on him in a minute, and he laughs again. “Aww buddy, are we really gonna fight over her?”

“She’s certainly not yours.” Suguru decks him then, and you gasp in horror, as you watch his big fist connect, and Satoru’s lip is bleeding, but he’s grinning.

“I mean I came in her twice though, ya sure?”

Oh shit.

Chapter 5

ao3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/148935853

[elioslover]

Ray of Sunshine - Grumpy!Harry x Reader.

Premise: Harry has a tendency to be moody, but what happens when he meets his match? this one's especially for @harrysonlylover 💞

Other Writing

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: She/her pronouns. 3rd person.

⛅️

Harry’s car skids recklessly into the almost-full parking lot, dismissing the concept of carefulness in favour of confronting the driver behind the wheel of a sunshine-yellow ‘60s VW beetle, who had pulled into the lot moments before- which should have never happened because it had been behind him, to begin with. 

As if his mood hadn’t been less than pleasant for the past month, what really set him over the edge was the lack of apology from the said sunshine yellow driver, who only honked his way and proceeded to turn into the parking lot as they seemed to have always intended. 

With agitation, Harry neatly swerves into the nearest parking space, barely managing to stay in the lines as he reaches over and snatches his work satchel from the passenger seat, slinging it over his shoulder as he slides from the seat and exits his vehicle. 

In hot pursuit, his long legs help him catch up to the sunshine car just in time for the driver to exit, her back turned to him, leaning in through the open door to collect her items. 

By the time she turns around and lazily swings the door shut Harry is peering over her, wearing a black hoodie, brows furrowed, his body tense. 

She recognises him in an instant- it’s hard not to remember the face of a man who is scowling so sinfully as he hit the hooter for an unnecessary amount of time- all because he couldn't be bothered to indicate. 

“Did you not see my blinker?” He grumbles. 

“Clearly not.” She torts, her face still and expressionless. 

“You’re a moron. It was on.” Each word is more annunciated than the last. 

“It wasn’t.” She shrugs, slinging the straps of her bag over her shoulder. 

“You clearly need glasses.” Harry huffs in disbelief. 

“Maybe if you weren’t blasting your music so loud you would have heard that it wasn’t on.” 

Harry feels a wave of shame wash over him at the idea of her seeing him getting a little too into his playlist, in turn, his chest simmers with defensiveness and deflection, 

“Your driving fucking sucks…” He says, getting no response only encourages him to rant further, “And your car looks like it’s hanging on by its last thread, no wonder you’re a bad driver.” He gestures to her car with a look of distaste, “It’s a piece of junk.”

She adores her car, it is not only special but holds the heart of many fond times, adventures, people, and sometimes just conversation. The car sure has been through the wringer- in age alone- but she can hardly afford another, and she certainly doesn't want one. 

So, she tries not to find offence in this grumpy strangers declaration of her ‘piece of junk’ and does her best to take a deep breath before responding in concession- though her agitation has morphed into sarcasm and it seeps through your sentences,

“Okay, sorry Mister Mercedes. Guess I’ll be more careful next time.”

Harry didn't know what he wanted her to say, but it certainly wasn’t anything along those lines. So with an eye roll and the reminder that he’s close to being late for work, Harry starts to walk away and points out matter-of-factly, 

“Yeah fuckin right, you’re an accident waiting to happen.” 

“Asshole.”

“I heard that.” 

He turns on his heels to see her as calm as ever, an amused sparkle in her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips,

“What ya gonna do? Chew me out some more?”

Harry stared seethingly at the rude and reckless driver who couldn't care less about his mood, her focus was on gathering all the necessary items for whatever task she so desperately had to complete that she was willing to almost kill him. 

He meanly mutters, “Have a fantastic day," before walking off for good, dreading work and in a worse mood than ever. 

⛅️

Harry has an hour for lunch, grateful for the assortment of cafes and restaurants scattered within the city square, along with plenty of boutiques, art deco, and antiques to name a few. 

Most days, he is likely to grab a sandwich or coffee- or both- from the restaurant directly across from his office block, but that would be the third time this week and Harry can’t fathom facing any of the staff in fear of becoming a ‘regular.’ 

He meanders around the centre and stakes out the array of food options displayed in each glass window. 

Just when he thinks he may settle on some early afternoon sushi, Harry spots a bright object from the corner of his vision, his head snapping with such haste he must have strained a muscle. 

Parked directly in front of a shoe boutique is his notorious enemy; the sunshine car. And leaning back against a pillar just outside of the store is the bad driver from behind the wheel. She is halfway through smoking a cigarette, her other hand occupied by scrolling through her phone. 

As if his scowl was so strong that it was sent straight to her, causing her to sense his presence, she looked up from her phone and smiled mischievously at the realization of her new enemy's arrival. 

She tucks her phone into the pocket of her black slacks, taking a puff of her ciggie, a cloud of smoke mixing in with her greeting,  

“Ah, Mister Mercedes.” 

Harry nears but notices his frustration thicken with each step into her space. He crosses his arms across his chest, 

“I recognised your car.” 

“Oh, that old piece of junk?” She asks with nonchalance. 

“Yes.”

“Bothered you so much that you decided to come over here?” Her pout is melting with pure mischief. 

“I’m sorry, okay.” Harry concedes, but it doesn't come off as anything but frustrated so his tone softens in volume and intention, “It was a rough day.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His brows furrow.

“Yeah, okay.” 

“Fucking insufferable.” He mutters.

His frustration slips over like that of water on a duck, her mood has been calm all day, and his attitude wasn’t likely to spoil it- right? With another puff, she ponders aloud, 

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

There is a moment where Harry almost ponders the purity of his intentions, but dismisses it and chooses to interrogate her- he is far too invested in finding out more about his enemy,

“Do you work here?” 

“Obviously.” She shrugs with the softest of scoffs. 

“Hope you’re a better employee than a driver.” 

Now he’s starting to get under her skin. this is her hour for lunch, why can’t it be spent in peace? She does her damndest to maintain a cool demeanour as she asks again,

“Why are you still here?” 

“To apologize, Jesus.” Harry doesn't mean to snap, but neither of them is surprised when he does. His juxtaposition of words and tone render his sorry useless- they both know it.

He tries to reason with her, explaining his frustration, “And all you said was okay.”

She peers over at him incredulously, repeatedly intrigued by the attitude of this man who has gone out of his way to make an enemy out of her, 

“What do you want me to say,” her tone facetious and fiery, “I forgive you, we all have bad days, sometimes we take it out on strangers to avoid hurting those close to us, you’re probably actually a great guy?” 

“I- yes.” 

“Well now that I’ve said it, you can go on your way.” 

Harry feels stunned like she just let him walk out into the snow knowing that there was soon to be a blizzard, he can’t reason with her- nor does he care to at this point, 

“Jesus. I take back my apology.” He grumbles, hands raised in defeat, his head shaking as he scoffs sourly, “Such a mature little thing, huh?” 

She ignores everything but the last sentence, slowly enjoying the opportunities he’s giving her to indulge in going out of her way to increase his already extreme grumpiness. 

Once more, Harry curses out under his breath and with zero intent to say another word, begins to walk away from her. 

Pulling the phone from her pocket, ready to continue her prior activities, she chuckles and calls over his shoulder,

“Bye, Mister Mercedes.” 

⛅️

It has likely been less than a week since their last interaction and Harry’s enemy has decided to treat herself to a proper lunch- sitting down at an actual table in an actual restaurant for a change. 

However, she underestimated her fitness levels and loosely accounted for a good portion of the time her lunch break consisted of. By the time she arrived and got back to her own store, there would be less than twenty minutes left to sit at a table. 

Takeout would have to do, and once she has placed her order, she waits off to the side of the main counter, waiting to both pay and be gifted with grub. 

The food comes quicker than predicted and with excitement she thinks can't be topped, she reaches for her wallet, but the hostess stops her in her tracks and gestures to one of the tables scattered throughout the eatery and informs her, 

“The man at table four already paid for your order.”

It’s her sworn enemy, packing up the contents of his belongings before taking a final sip of his nearly-empty Americano. Harry doesn’t acknowledge her.

“What’s with this guy?” She ponders aloud before making the swift and frustrated decision to go over to his table.

He is already standing up to leave, still not looking her way, and with a bough of confusion, she finally speaks up, 

“What’s this about?” 

“Strange way of saying thank you, Sunshine.” 

Harry frowns and she doesn't enjoy the way it makes her feel, giddy and begging for more opportunities to bother him, 

“Thank you.”

“Whatever. You’re still a pest.” He grumbles, almost bumping his shoulder into her own as he slips past and hastily exits the restaurant.

⛅️

Harry walks into her store with a better attitude than he has in a long time. Things were starting to look up, but one little thing was still bothering him, and she was staring right at him with a scowl that gave him a run for his money. 

Anyhow, he’s here for a reason; an attempt to smooth over the rocky start that was more than likely his fault. And he hopes she’ll take his apology this time. 

Harry approaches, and with each step, he gets a better view of her distinct frown, lips turned down, eyes quickly turning to loathsome slits. She is no longer leaning across the front counter with laxation, her body stiffening to attention, her hand pressed firmly to her hip. 

She couldn’t fathom anything could have worsened her week, and here he was, presumably planning on sucking away whatever remained of her soul for his own sick gain. With a chest simmering with chaos, she asks with incredulity, 

“Seriously?” 

Harry blinks back, a little awestruck, ignoring the pang of disappointment that greets his heart when she seems to confirm her distaste for his presence, he embraces his mildly peppy mood and remarks playfully, 

“Well hello there, Sunshine.” 

“This is not the time.” She snaps.  

“Aw, is Miss Ray-of-Sunlight in a mood today?” He coos. 

“Mmph.” 

She huffs, hardly meeting his eyes, and Harry quite likes how well she emulates his usually grumpy demeanour, he wonders how similar they might be, decides to find out, 

“What happened?” He meets her at the counter, lazily resting his body against the counter courtesy of the elbow he balances on. He leans a tad nearer, a tantalizing smile playing at his lips as he teases,

“Did you almost crash into someone with your junkyard on wheels?” 

“I’d rather drive this than parade about like an absolute dick in an overpriced German car.” Her tone drips with what Harry feels is both disappointment and disgust. 

He feels frozen under her words like his Sunshine had just revealed herself to be Medusa, a sly Succubus. 

Now what does he do? His confidence sits on the floor with his converse, his sentences have turned to slosh in his skull and she is staring at him with such distaste that Harry certainly won’t be saying a word. 

Stunned to silence, he leans away from her, settling a safe space between their bodies as his features morph from friendly to confused. This only seems to increase her frustration and she fiery snaps, 

“Why won't you stop fucking pestering me?”

Harry subconsciously steps back, straightening up and stacking his defensiveness around his skin like a shield. He has no power to prevent a petty eye roll, 

“Oh, please. This is no treat for me either, Sunshine.”

“Are you kidding?” She gets ready to leave him standing alone in the middle of her own store. 

Harry panics and blurts, “Hear me out!” It comes off more desperate than he would have liked. But she has stopped and addresses him with crossed arms, waiting for his next words. Harry is in autopilot mode, more nonsense spilling from his lips, “I- want to make it up to you?” 

“Why, so you can clear your conscience?” She scoffs with sass. 

“Sure, whatever you say, smart mouth.” Harry has regressed and reflects her unpleasant temperament.

“Go away.” 

Their gazes are glued by the calamity of their conversation, tied together with frustration that feels impossible to unwind. 

Harry just wants to tell her why he’s here in the first place, but what’s the point? His presence is evidently worsening her day. 

And though the soft curiosity in him wants to know why she seems so down, Harry’s focus is returning to the ruin of his afternoon. So, in true fashion, he flails his arms in disappointed defeat and turns his back on her with a wonderful version of goodbye,

“Fine. Fuck it. Have a miserable one, Sunshine.” 

“Likewise, dickhead.” She dismisses, grateful his mood is now as miserable as her own. 

⛅️

When Harry finally exits the glass entrance to the bottom floor, relief rushing over him now that work is over, he’s hardly paying any attention to anything or anyone, already scanning his phone for notifications. But then he sees his cloudy sunshine leaning against a wall, arms crossed, no car in sight. 

He ponders pretending to not have noticed- walked away and gone about his eve. That would never happen though, he wants- needs to see her again- his stomach stays unsettled the deeper their discourse divulged. 

He heads over to her with unnecessary haste, scolding himself as he comes to a halt in front of her. She has been aware of him from the minute he exited the building, already prepared for his arrival. 

His body waits expectantly as she eyes him up and down, a cheeky glint in her eyes and when Harry understands that she is in no rush to speak up, his undying impatience rears its head, 

“What do you want?” 

“For you to stop being so grumpy.” She shrugs.

“Rich coming from you.” He mutters, but when she attempts to turn her back on him as they had done so many times before, more words rush out, “Okay, okay. What’s up?”

“I’ve decided to hear you out.” 

“Gee, how kind of you.” 

“I cannot imagine how anyone deals with you on a daily basis.” 

Harry doesn’t take it as an insult, he is fueled forward by the fact that she might be willing to listen,

“I’m actually very likeable.” 

“Do you want me to hear you out or not?” 

He thinks for a moment, leaving her to ponder what in her right mind caused her to take a walk to see him in the first place. 

But, he wants to do this as… right as their attitudes might approve of, so he bravely wraps his palm atop her own, gently gesturing for her to follow and she allows him to drag her along. He encourages, 

“C’mon.” 

“What?” She asks but proceeds to let him guide her. 

“It’s almost six, let’s go eat.” He informs, one step ahead of her as they take the short trip to his regular restaurant

“That is the last thing I want to do with you.” She grumbles. 

“I’ll pay.” He soothes. 

“Fine.” 

Harry keeps her hand cradled in his own, even as they enter the restaurant and he asks the waiter for a table for two. In fact, he only lets go to pull out a chair for her. 

He asks what drink she prefers and if she’d be open to splitting a plate of fries with him. 

But she has been eyeing him with suspicion, and once it’s clear that this won’t waver until she confronts it, the waiter leaves and allows her to question, 

“Why are you being nicer than usual?” 

“Can you stop being snarky for even a second?” He nearly snaps. 

“Ah, Mister Mercedes is back.” She nods as if it were what she had expected all along. 

“No,- Jesus fuck.” Harry feels desperate again, scooching his chair forward, his arms folded across the table, leaning in to ensure her unwavering attention,

 “I- almost got into another accident the day we met.” He sighs out with shame, ready to be met with warranted ridicule. Her expression has already turned to one of bemusement. But he’s not done yet,

“Turns out my left blinker bulb burned out... so...”

She tilts back and finally relaxes into her chair, a gleeful grin spreading to her sparkling eyes, 

“Sweet vindication.” 

“Brat.”

“Dick.” 

Harry has little confidence to spare, now that his confession is out in the open, he is in the dark. 

Her demeanour has slightly diverted swells of amusement and satisfaction dancing along the tabletop.

“Just wanted to try and make it up to you.” He shrugs earnestly, unfortunately having to rely on her newfound information to dictate her next reaction. 

“Make it up to me?” 

He can’t convince himself to meet her eyes, his lowering to study the rings donning his fingers, fearful of humiliation, but not enough to waste the opportunity sitting across from him, looking overjoyed with sweet satisfaction, and far too endearing for him to resist,

“Mm. I didn’t want you to think I was just a grump but…” Her face seems to soften and he feels it safe to continue, “Been tryna ask you out on a date. since.” 

“A date?” 

“Yeah, a date.” 

“Are you crazy?” Her features return to one of confusion, bewildered at his seemingly sudden turnaround, “I don’t like you.”

“Well, I like you.”

“Forgive me for finding that hard to believe.” 

It’s true- that he likes you, and that it’s hard to believe. He likes the surprise shifting his statement. 

“I do.” He nods as if it’s been obvious from the start, “And your attitude, and your silly yellow car.” He admits with bashful fondness, “Guess I hoped we could start over?” 

“Sunshine.” She says. 

“Hm?”

He ponders aloud and it’s her turn to lean forward, stretching her arms across the table. Her gaze has returned to one of sternness, 

“My car. Her name is Sunshine.” She allows Harry a moment to soak up the coincidental information. “She is a piece of junk, but I love her, so shut up about my baby.”

Harry’s head tilts back when a bough of laughter suddenly leaves his lips- amused and even more attracted than he thought possible, he nods along in agreement and chuckles, “Fair enough.” 

There is an elongated pause- at least Harry perceives it to be- as she thinks over the oddly pleasurable past few weeks of finding herself in the presence of a grumpy but playful man. 

So, she gives him one last good look over before deciding to openly give in, 

“You have been a consistent pain in my ass.” He pouts cutely, and she goes on, “Guess we’ll have to find out if there’s more to you.” 

He smiles at that, his head and heart finally settling at the promise of better nights of sleep to follow. Moreso, he’d like to find out more about this so-called Sunshine who seems to simultaneously rile him up and calm him down with ease, 

“‘M name’s Harry, by the way.” He extends a hand.

“Y/n.” Her palm meets his eagerly.

-

Here we go children, this one was really fun to write, I hope it meets your expectations! - Em. xo 💞 this one's especially for @harrysonlylover 💞

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Bejeweled — JJ Maybank

An Outer Banks Imagine

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: After mourning the end of a two-and-a-half-year relationship, you're finally ready to get back out there. You get more than you bargained for with some guy.

Warnings: Underage drinking, brief mention of cheating

A/N: I started this wayyyy back in the fall when Midnights was first released and have just now gotten around to finishing it. I hope you like this silly little Taylor Swift-inspired fic!

Masterlist

You pat silver glitter on your eyelids, careful to keep it contained to below your crease, but it seems like your best friend doesn’t care about that because she jumps off of your bed and launches herself forward, wrapping her arms around your neck and squealing. The force of her hug makes you wobble, almost falling out of your chair. 

“Sarah!” You shriek, “You’re going to make me mess it up!”

“Sorry! I’m just so excited that you’re finally coming out again,” she gushes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before loosening her grip so she’s just standing behind you with her arms on your shoulders, looking at you through your reflections in your vanity mirror. “We should do a shot before we go.”

“I’ve got a bottle of Grey Goose under my bed. Just let me finish this quick.” You shove her off in the direction of your bed and wrap up your makeup with some lip gloss and a spritz of setting spray. When you turn around, Sarah has a solo cup in each hand and when you take yours, you see she’s poured double shots. After downing it and chasing it with a swig from the open bottle of wine you’ve been sipping on while getting ready, you and Sarah head out for the night. 

Sarah’s boyfriend is waiting for you in the driveway, his beat-up old VW van in blatant contrast to the white brick mansion and manicured grounds surrounding it. You’ve met John B a few times, mostly in passing at parties, and once or twice at Sarah’s before everything fell apart and you had to avoid her house like the plague. But it’s been four months, and despite your underlying anxiety about seeing Rafe again, you’re excited to get drunk somewhere other than your bedroom again. 

Sarah climbs into the passenger side and leans over to give John B a quick kiss and you duck into the back, rolling your eyes at your lovesick friend. Despite the fact that they’ve been together for over a year, they’re still in the honeymoon phase and showing no signs of that stopping.

You’re not jealous - you’re not - but it does suck to be the single person in the backseat, watching your best friend lit up with love. It doesn’t help that your ex is her brother, who you had dated for two and a half years before finding out that he had cheated on you. It was a horrible, messy breakup, made even messier because Sarah got caught in the middle. 

It’s not the first party you’ve been to since the breakup (that honor goes to the one and only house party you had attempted to attend a month and a half ago before leaving after forty five minutes), but it is the first boneyard party since the breakup and that’s on a whole different level. The beach is sure to be so packed, you’ll have your pick of tourons to dance with. Maybe it’ll make Rafe jealous, or at the very least, it will help you get over him. 

Sure enough, the party is in full swing when John B pulls up to the beach. The loud, thumping music rattles his old car and you’re glad to be able to scramble out of it before the bass drops and increases the intensity of the shaking. John B leads the two of you over to the keg and pours you both a beer. 

“Thank you, sir,” you say, giving him a mock salute as he hands over the plastic cup. He just laughs and shakes his head at you, wrapping his arm around Sarah to pull her into his side. 

“I’m glad you came out with us, Y/N,” he says, voice full of sincerity. It melts your heart a little bit, because he’s just such a good guy. You’re happy for Sarah, and it dulls the sting of your own unfortunate romantic life a bit.

“Me too!” Sarah squeals, reaching out to squeeze your free hand with her own. Before you can respond, someone calls John B’s name, so you follow him and Sarah across the beach to where a campfire is set up. 

It turns out to be JJ Maybank who had called for him, sitting by the fire with Kiara Carrera and Pope Heyward. JJ stands up when he sees the three of you approaching and walks around the fire.

“Hey, man,” John B says, greeting him with that smooth high-five-fistbump combo that all boys seem to love.

“Hey, JB,” JJ says. He wraps an arm around Sarah, pulling her in for a side hug. “Sarah.”

“This is…” John B starts, gesturing towards you, but JJ puts up a hand to cut him off. In his other hand is a lit joint, which he takes a quick hit of before speaking.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I remember.” He slides his aviators down his nose and peers over the rims at you with a small smirk on his lips.

“Maybank,” you say, nodding at him. You had only met JJ once or twice in passing, but he was always nice enough. To you, at least. 

“Y’know, you’ve got this, like, aura around you. It’s like… moonstone.” He takes another hit of the joint, dropping his gaze down your body and then back up to your face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re, like, shimmery.” A laugh escapes your lips, bubbling out of you like an overflowing glass of champagne. 

“Okay, buddy, I think you’ve had enough of that.” You reach over to pluck the joint out from between his fingers, raising it to your lips. Smoke fills your lungs and you inhale until it starts to burn a bit and then push it out in a steady stream. JJ’s eyebrows raise in a mixture of shock and appreciation when you repeat the action two more times. Then you feel a hand on your shoulder and turn around to find Sarah standing right behind you.

“We’re gonna go dance,” she says, raising her voice so you can hear her over the music. “You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah, I’m good!” You assure her, glancing back at JJ out of the corner of your eyes. 

When you turn back towards the fire, Pope and Kiara have disappeared, leaving you and JJ alone. You try not to read into that too much, but it’s hard because he’s a notorious womanizer. He’s also really fucking hot, in his backwards hat and cut-off Kildare Marina t-shirt, grinning at you with the flickering light from the fire dancing across his face, so you decide to say fuck it and give it a shot, even if it’s only for tonight. 

“Wanna sit?” he asks, gesturing towards one of the logs of driftwood situated around the fire. You nod and plop down next to him, giving the joint back. He takes another hit and then turns to look at you. 

“What?” You ask through nervous laughter as something that feels like butterflies flutters in your stomach. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the type of giddy excitement that comes from a burgeoning crush, and it feels as good as it is scary. 

“You’re pretty.” You roll your eyes at that pitiful excuse for a pick up line and take the joint back, turning to stare into the fire. He just shrugs. 

“What? It’s true. I’ve always thought so.” He’s not teasing, just stating a fact, and it shocks you so much that you nearly drop the joint. Thankfully, he has quick reflexes and is able to catch your wrist in his hand before it can fall completely. 

It’s almost gone, so the two of you pass it back and forth until it dwindles down to nearly nothing, sharing a companionable silence and soft, secret smiles. Then JJ tosses the roach into the fire and gets up, moving to stand in front of you. 

“Dance with me?” He asks with a flicker of mischief behind his eyes, holding his hand out to you. You make him sweat for a few seconds, biting your lip to keep yourself from grinning, then nod and take his hand, allowing him to pull you up and lead you over to the makeshift dance floor. 

You’re really starting to feel the impact of the weed, inhibitions lowering just enough to dull your senses to the outside world, and you let yourself sink into the pure, hedonistic pleasure of it. The feeling of the bass thumping deep in your chest, the slight press of JJ’s fingers against your hips as you move together in time to the music, the sticky, salty air that lays heavy around you. 

Time passes, though you’re not sure how much, and the more you dance together, the bolder it makes you. At some point, you spin around so your back is to JJ and grind up against him. One of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling you tight to him, and he uses the other to brush your hair off your shoulders, dropping his head down to rest his chin in the dip of your exposed collarbone. Your eyes flutter shut and you let your weight sink back into his chest a bit. It’s broad and warm, and you feel safe, tucked against a boy you barely know in the middle of a sweaty crowd full of your peers, some of whom have been flashing confused looks your way all night. 

You don’t care, though, because for once, your brain isn’t running on a constant loop of intrusive thoughts about Rafe Cameron and Bella fucking Bond. That is, of course, until the crowd parts in front of you, revealing Rafe flanked by Topper and Kelce. You take a tiny, half-step back, leaning into JJ for support. JJ’s arm tightens around your waist and he wraps his other one around your shoulders protectively. As the three Kook boys get closer, you realize that Rafe’s wearing the vintage Air Jordans you bought him for his last birthday, and you roll your eyes at his audacity to show up and accost you wearing shoes you gave him as a present.

“Hey, Y/N,” Rafe says, lips curled up in his trademark half-sneer, half-smirk. “I see your standards have lowered.” 

“Just following your example,” you tell him, shrugging as much as you can with JJ’s arms around your shoulders. 

“You’re making a big mistake, Y/N, one you won’t be able to come back from.” Rafe’s eyes are dark and his voice is low and gravely in warning. 

“Hmmm. I don’t think I am. You can try to change my mind, but you gotta wait in line. My dance card’s full at the moment.” With that, you turn around in JJ’s arms so you’re facing him and press your lips to his. It’s a quick, forceful peck that you hope conveys yes I’m doing this to mess with Rafe but I also want to really kiss you so please just go along with it. You feel him smirk against your lips and your whole body relaxes, knowing that he’s on the same page. 

When you turn around to look at Rafe, he’s spluttering, looking from you to Topper with wide eyes. You wink at him and push against JJ’s shoulders in a silent request to leave the dance floor. His arms slide down your body and he captures one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together. 

Without a word, the two of you leave the dance floor, ignoring the fact that everyone’s eyes are following you as you cross the beach. Your heart rate skyrockets as adrenaline pumps through your veins, adding to your high. You feel powerful, unstoppable, and when you’re far enough away from everybody else, a laugh escapes your lips. 

“What’s so funny?” JJ asks, turning his head to raise his eyebrows at you.

You launch yourself into his arms and reconnect your lips, pouring your answer into the kiss. He stumbles back a few steps but then regains his balance and pulls you against him, arms tightening around your waist. After a few dizzying, breathless minutes, you pull back just enough to be able to take a deep breath. JJ’s eyes flutter open, diamonds shining behind his blue irises. He surges forward, recapturing your lips for a moment before trailing his own down your jawline.

“This okay?” He murmurs against your pulse point.

“Better than okay,” you breathe, tilting your head back slightly to give him better access. 

“Better than okay?” He pauses for a second, lips hovering above the sensitive skin between your collarbone and shoulder. 

“Yeah, it’s…nice.” You feel your cheeks heat up, embarrassed and excited and embarrassed about the excitement. 

“Nice,” he agrees, lifting his head back up so your lips meet again. And it’s not really anything yet, but the first flickers of like burn in your stomach, and for the first time since your breakup there’s something like hope inflating your chest like it’s a balloon.

It’s nice. 

[pictureinme]

kinktober day xiii. HIGH SEX – vw guy (& girl)

word count: ~1.5k tags: afab reader (pronouns not specified), threesome, hippie shit, no one is referred to by a name lmao masterlist | ao3

You lay on the cushions lining the interior of the VW bus, the plush fabric like a cocoon as you wait for the effects of the tab to kick in. You had only met these two individuals about ten minutes ago– stumbling by their open doors on your way to the next bonfire.

“Take a ride to here and now, little lamb.”

His words were like honey, and how could you resist those permanent bedroom eyes?

“Let’s listen to some of our own sounds, dove.”

Her voice was like a birdsong, her presence creating warmth in every touch she gave you. The faint crackling of the radio eased you in, the psychedelic tunes creating the perfect environment for the predicament you’re currently in. The two hippies were lying on either side of you, feeling their own sense of bliss you were inexperienced in.

“You sure that was acid?” you pause, eyes darting around, “I didn't really taste any…”

The man leans closer to you, laying his head on your shoulder, “Just takes a while, let it happen.”

As soon as he draws soothing shapes on your stomach, it seems like the entire bus lights up with beautiful colors– the art painted on the ceiling looks impossibly vibrant. The hitch in your breath due to this is caught by both of your newfound friends, and the girl joins you as well, petting your hair.

“How does it feel?” She whispers in your ear, the hot air causing goosebumps to rise on your neck.

“Beautiful,” you sigh leaning into their embrace, “It’s so beautiful, I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

The man hums gently, moving his hand down your stomach, tracing your pants’ waistband, “We can help, we’ll make you feel even more beautiful.”

“Let us take care of you, make you feel good,” she pulls your hair away from your face and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek.

Your entire body feels so deliciously warm, your mouth slightly agape– an invitation for the man to kiss you on the lips as his warm fingers dance upon your still-clothed arousal. You moan into the kiss, and you feel the woman whispering sweet things– you can’t understand a word as he finally dips his hand into your underwear. The feeling was indescribable, and your eyes shot open from the pure ecstasy already being experienced.

“It feels so nice, doesn’t it, dove?” She licks the shell of your ear sweetly.

He separates from the kiss to look into your eyes deeply, both of you succumbing to the high of it all. You nod in response to her question, but lose yourself in his gaze, “I feel… hot.”

“Let’s help with that,” the woman takes her own top off– she’s without a bra, of course– and begins to take your top off as well. The man pulls your pants down slowly, the two of you savoring each sensation that was so intensified by the acid. He takes off his shirt, and before you know it, all of you are as naked as the days you were born– it felt right, somehow.

You didn’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest, not when both of them looked at you with the same childlike wonder they seemed to feel for everything. In this moment, you were the planet these two moons were drawn to, and it felt amazing.

The man caresses your thighs as he moves down your body, coming to kneel in between your legs– while the woman continues to stay next to you, her chest in your face as she runs her hands through your hair hypnotically. You look up at her, your eyes seeming to communicate all the desire that ran through your head– and she nods. Smiling, you move to lick at her breasts, circling around her nipples gently. She mewls into your touch, continuing to rake her fingers through your hair.

“You’re so good, dove… don’t stop.” That was the last thing you wanted to do at this moment.

As you’re preoccupied with pleasuring this angelic woman before you, the man kisses your mound– taking in your scent. You sigh happily as he laps at your clit sweetly, the feeling was electric. He spreads you open with his fingers as he continues to lick, and teases at your entrance– all of your moans are muffled by her soft skin you continue to nip at.

“Taste so good, baby.”

He smiles at your dazed expression as he enters you with two fingers, curling softly inside. You separate only momentarily to choke out a moan, much to the delight of the both of them.

“You make such pretty noises for us,” the woman leans down, her face in front of yours, “Our own little festival right here…”

Her delicate fingers trace circles around your chest, leaving goosebumps in her wake. She kisses you deeply, moaning just as much as you do when he speeds up his movements– it’s as if the pleasure was shared by everyone in the van. Your eyes, despite their being shut, see spirals of color as you realize the knot long inside of you is unfurling rapidly.

“Gonna come,” you whimper into her mouth, glancing down at the man sucking at your clit with an intensity like no other. “Please, oh, God–!”

Neither of them stops their respective ministrations, and she whispers sweet nothings into your ear hotly as you orgasm with a whine like no other. You felt like you were entangled in pure warmth– you could swear sparks were flying off of you as your body spasmed.

His fingers exit you slowly so as to not overstimulate you too much, and he leans his body over yours. The woman kisses your forehead and kisses the man atop you. You watched them with pure wonder in your eyes– they had to be angels of some sort with those auras about them. He looks down at you with an expression of pure adoration, his nose brushing against your own.

“May I have your blessing, little lamb?”

You look up at him, eyes still somewhat glazed over, “Blessing for what?”

He chuckles softly, moving to whisper in your ear, “To make love to you.”

Your gasp reaches both of them, and they continue to smile as you nod vehemently, “Please.”

He runs his hands up your sides, motioning for you to sit up with him. You do so in what seems like slow motion, or maybe like moving in jello. The woman’s arms come from behind you to caress your chest as you watch him pat his crossed legs– his arousal very much evident. She helps you make your way to him, and sink slowly onto his length.

Your eyes roll back as you are filled to the hilt, the warmth of their bodies pressed against you on either side was almost too much. He looks up at you and moans as you involuntarily squeeze around him. The woman continues to rake her hands all over your torso– you feel her breasts pressing against your back. The position was beyond intimate– you were sandwiched between two lovers who decided to take you in as their own. You begin to slowly grind against him, your breath ragged.

“It feels– oh!” You cry out as the sensations overwhelm you, “Oh, it’s too much!”

The woman shushes you sweetly, laying her head on your shoulder, “Just breathe, just breathe…”

You whimper still but continue trying to chase that pleasure. He sighs deeply as you clench around him– you’re entranced by how his eyes flutter in reaction.

“Don’t be afraid,” he leans his forehead against your own, his sandalwood scent permeating your senses. “Let yourself feel it all.”

This spurs you on even more, and you begin to properly ride him. You felt their hands all over you, encouraging you to give in to the sensations. He leans over your shoulder to meet his partner in a kiss, and that causes you to moan even louder. You lean onto his shoulder for purchase as you continuously sink down onto him, eager for more. You bite at the soft skin lightly, causing his back to arch into your touch.

The two of them separate, and just as quickly go to kiss and touch all over your body again.

“I’m close,” you whisper into his shoulder, “I’m so close, fuck!”

Your body is impossibly warm at this point as the woman scratches down your chest softly, enough to make you tingle. The man begins to meet your movements, and you cry out yet again.

“So good, baby,” his Adam’s apple bobs as he lets out a groan.

The couple’s hands both hold your hips, guiding you in every thrust. You can’t help but smile as your release shakes your entire body, his hardness inside of you twitching. Your riding doesn’t stop until your legs give out from underneath you, and you’re only slightly aware of his release inside of you.

You feel yourself being lifted off of his length slowly, and being laid on the soft blankets & pillows strewn across the interior of the van. Their hands stroke your hair and your stomach as you feel your heartbeat slowing–  the pleasure in your core still reeling.

“Did so good for us, dove,” she whispers as she kisses your head.

He lays next to you, as does she, and puts his head atop your bare chest, “Our little lamb…”

[somereaderinblue]

It's already Day 6 of Trigun Fanfiction Appreciation Week. I don't want any regrets so here goes: I give you a VW mpreg rec list. If this isn't your cup of tea, that's fine. If it is:

what I am trying to cultivate… by Altered-Havoc (Altered_Karma)

100/10, I've lost count on how many times I reread this. Both of them have suffered & after everything, they finally get a soft epilogue. Angst? Who dat? This is 80% comfort to me.

Surprise, Wolfwood! It's A Bouncing Baby Plant! by @attackofthezee, rated T

WW returns from the dead & there's a surprise waiting for him. 3 guesses as to what it is.

Until The End by squishycake, rated E

“Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” – Richard Siken A bittersweet fic wherein an aging WW makes peace with his mortality but not before Vash two new lives.

Innocent Souls by NaughtyJacks (JackalJamboree), rated T

In a quiet moment, Vash asks WW to bless the two blessings he carries. Vash knows WW is still keeping secrets from him, but he also knows that he's decided to choose Vash & his kids over them. And that only makes him love him more.

o' light, won't you shine (upon souls of youth) by seventhgiver (fifthgiver), rated T

Another bittersweet fic wherein WW still faces his canon death, but Meryl & Milly are there to support Vash through thick & thin. There's angst, but it really does have a happy ending.

dear star and spring bud, my preachers by elemmacil, rated T

Post-canon AU where VW have a child. Does a great job at depicting their awe over the fact that they were allowed to make this dream their reailty.

I've Taken to Calling Him Nico by mak000000, rated G

Short one-shot wherein Vash tells WW that the little boy he assumed to be Lina's baby brother is in fact someone's kid. 3 guesses as to who's the father.

i’d give you the sun (i’d give you the sun) by justotherdays, rated M

Set post-Trimax, full of nothing but tenderness & a much deserved happy ending.

This is not humanity's song, this is ours by O_ToJoy, rated M & T

An AU where Knives's victory is short-live & WW has to pick up the pieces, one of said pieces being Nikolai. He's 16 years too late, but that won't stop him from trying.

Talk About Timing by lucifergooseifer (Lucifergooseifer), rated M

A small detour causes everything to NOT go according to plan. BUT! Nothing (too) bad happens, I swear.

A Black Angel at Your Side by hazeltea (madlovescience), rated E

I would've listed this at the top but then I read it, cried, & slapped it here. I want to devour this but also throw up. On a side note, I like how this fic depicts Livio's still somewhat religious view on Plants & how said view is deeply embedded in NML's culture, which causes conflict with the Earth Federation. There's also a Meryl POV chapter where she justifiably remains wary of Livio/Razlo, which really individualizes her. Also has fanart.

Flower Dew, Deep Waters, Desert Thirst & Use My Heart by cloudbureiku, rated E & M

Aside from smut, there's also tender caring & non-sexual intimacy, all of which are three of many reasons why VW is our bread & butter.

Lavender by @vaporame

Gotta love it when Plant pregnancy involves markings & telepathic bonds. Totally makes breaking the news to your s/o less nerve-wracking. Their other VW works are also recommended.

Modern AUs

To Build a Home by hielhue, rated G

Everyone is alive & happy, and WW narrates how he met Vash, fell in love & started a family.

cause everything else is a substitute for your love by @sascake, rated M

VW have a bad history when it comes to using protection despite one of them ironically owning a sex shop. They're not perfect but they make it work.

little moment verse by justotherdays, rated G & M

VW's journey as parents. In the second fic in the series, the author isn't afraid to write how some parents, no matter how much they love their child, still inevitably struggle. Which is why it's important to have support.

devil on your shoulder (or the angel laying on your tummy) & paint the town red by cloudbureiku, not rated & G

The former guest stars the one & only Kuroneko while the latter shows us why it really isn't advisable for heavily pregnant parents to sit on the floor.

[fireemblems24]

Scarlet Blaze Ch 15 (Final)

Last one, everyone! After this, I finally get to play Spiritfarer which I got on . . . Christmas 2022.

NARRATION

Last chapter. Finally. Killing so many people in this route is really awful. Especially since you just . . . don't in the other two.

I think the last chapter will take place at the monastery.

Oh, great, does this mean I have to protect Bernie's dad in this route? I hope Rhea kills him, like gets this badass cut scene where she cuts him down for perverting her faith by using it as a propaganda tool.

So TWSITD showed up and is attacking Rhea and the Empire.

They're mostly after the "beasts" (aka Nabateans? Or humans?)

I wish this meant that we teamed up with Rhea, but we know Edelgard would team up with TWSITD first.

Catherine and Rhea got a cool moment together though.

Yep, we have to protect Count Varley, gross.

MAP

No side battles! This final chapter will be super quick, which is nice.

I'm VERY curious what the Golden Deer students say after Claude's moment last chapter lamo.

And if any Lions mention Sylvain :((((

OMG, Ignatz is savage. He only cares about painting the battle. No mention of Claude.

Yuri wishes he could kill Varley instead of save him. Good for him. He really feels more suited for AG/AM/SS/VW than SB/CF/GW.

Well, at least Mercedes mentioned Sylvain. And Ingrid and Annette. Saying they died for what they believed in and admires them for it, since she could never.

Poor Ashe is having a crisis. Still had no idea wtf he's doing in the Empire's war camp. Honestly, this game made him so much more interesting.

Linhardt also has no fucking clue why he's here. I swear he does nothing but complain every map (in a funny way) and wish he was doing literally anything else.

Lorenz is more concerned about his future bc of Claude than worried about him. Man, guy really has no one loyal to him lol.

DOROTHEA & CASPAR C

I swear I did a much better job getting supports in GW and AG.

Caspar has a bunch of books, and Dorothea's horrified by the idea that he'll use them in training.

Caspar plans to read them. Dorothea teases him. Apparently Lin made similar comments.

Dorothea makes him promise not to hurt the books. A woman after my own heart.

Caspar's like, did you know my dad reads! Dorothea's like, yeah . . . how do you think he got his role if he didn't.

Dorothea tells a story about an unlearned commander who studied strategy in books and improved to become legendary.

The only stupid part of this is thinking you can read and understand complicated books in 5 days and become an expect in 5 days. For once, Caspar was the smart one being like, uh, I need more time.

MERCEDES & LYSITHEA B

This support is SB locked, but neither characters are Eagles. It may be the only support like that in the game. But, hey, new Mercie content, I'll take it!

Mercedes comes across Lysithea in the kitchen, trying and failing to cook.

The fruits she wanted to use are moldy though. Lysithea has an idea to use something else for the fruit - a sugar syrup.

Lysithea has dedicated her time to learning how to cook because of how good Mercedes' cooking was, so she credits Mercie for the sugar syrup, which she learned because of that.

Baking also helped Lysithea learn the importance of taking breaks.

Mercie calls her a wizened old grandma, lol.

They arrange a tea party.

SHEZ & LINHARDT A

It starts with Linhardt saying they haven't learned anything about Shez's powers. I wonder how funny this sounds if you get it after the special chapters.

Linhardt says it's find because the war is almost over, so there's less need and chance for the powers to go out of control.

Shez pretty consistently wants to continue working as a mercenary after the battle.

He also seems to have no desire to stay in Enbarr lol.

Linhardt wants Shez as a personal bodyguard. Honestly, not a bad choice.

Then Linhardt says something like "spending the rest of my life with some random bodyguard" and then makes an excuse to leave. so he wants to stick with Shez for life. It's kind of sweet.

EDELGARD & PETRA A

Their only support

Edelgard comes across Petra praying to Bigid gods. In Brigid they pray in nature rather than in churches in Fodlan.

Edelgard asks Petra why she's risking her life in the war because it's bad for Brigid.

So Brigid will only be freed if Petra remains alive.

To be fair, it's because she doesn't know the new leader. Still feels a bit icky for Petra.

Edelgard warns about "tricks" the enemy will use. She really has a beef with anyone using tactics.

Petra just says she's happy to fight and can't run while everyone else remains and fights.

Edelgard says she can't back out, which true, but she could've just not started one. But that's in the past I guess.

Overall, came across better than the Houses one where Petra didn't seem like an equal.

EDELGARD/LYSITHEA/HAPI PARALOGUE

My plan is to have Edelgard and Shez make the other two adjuncts and see if I can't beat the paralogue that way.

It's about TWSITD, which isn't surprising given that character list.

God, I've made SB Shez so fucking stupid. Never understanding anything. It's so funny.

So is this about Cornelia? They found one of her old hideouts.

I had Shez shrug about joining. Hapi got offended.

They're talking about Hubert. I wish he was here. He's my best unit.

I wish Cornelia showed up. She's so fun, but sadly she did not.

They didn't find anything. Hapi was mostly chill about it. Edelgard and Lysithea were more bothered.

Shez could show concern or change the subject. Obviously I made him change the subject since SB!Shez is not intelligent.

CASPAR/LINHARDT PARALOGUE

Like the last time, I just plan to adjunct Caspar and let Shez and Linhardt do all the work.

They're arguing if Caspar saw a ghost or not. Linhardt remains unconvinced.

Lamo, their dads showed up and Linhardt's dad called him a "fountain of positivity" when he brought up their could die any day.

Linhardt is also upset that he has to help.

We're hunting down Empire people who've turned against Edelgard.

I had Shez not want to go lol.

The main battle changed to defeating their dads. I don't think I'm supposed to take this paralogue seriously.

Linhardt had no fun.

Bergliez gave Caspar some gaunlets, and I could either be happy for him or jealous. I obviously picked jealous since it's fun to pick the dick answer lol.

FINAL BATTLE

Why is the S rank reward Edelgard's axe? This is the last battle, right? Is there some post game stuff? Because I'm so ready for this to be done (I don't think I'll do it).

Funny, Edelgard is the one defending the monastery this time, and Varley. Imagine your final battle being about protecting Varley. Ugh.

Only 40 points for the final battle?

Just killed Catherine :(

Cyril just showed up. Rhea's so concerned. Not looking forward to killing a child :((( He died too. This is by far the bloodiest route. I swear no one even dies in AG, and in GW it's only Sylvain's dad.

This can't be it, right? That was too easy. And Cyril as the final boss makes no sense. I'm betting it's a Thales and Rhea fight.

Rhea turned into a dragon. Badass. Glad she was the final boss poper and not Thales.

Spoke too soon. I think they're both here now.

Think I beat it. We're at a cut scene now. Thales is doing magic shit. Rhea attacked him and just ignored Edelgard and Shez like they weren't worth her notice lol.

Wait, that's it?

Rhea pushes Thales off a cliff? So RHEA's the hero??

There's no way they could've survived that - Edelgard. My girl, Rhea is a fucking dragon and Thales can warp. I have bad news from you. Also, Byleth survived a fall too so . . .

What happened to Dimitri? I don't think I killed Claude either?

Is that really it? The war just keeps going. The war just keeps on with no end in sight. Hahahaha. You mean I played how many hours for THAT? I'm going to laugh my ass off if all 3 routes end like this. What a cheap way to avoid killing any of the lords.

OMG. What a stupid ending.

Except for Rhea. She got the big hero moment lol.

I kept waiting for another battle. Esp since there's an S rank reward that's Edelgard's axe, so Idk what's going on.

OMG, this is going to take FOREVER. They're showing the MVP of every single side battle and not just the main ones. I'm only at ch 6.

There was a lot more variety in MVP than I thought. I thought it would be the Hubert show, but it's pretty varied.

Ok, so around ch 10 turns into the Hubert show. I like seeing battle data though, so I sat through it.

Ok, so you get a letter from the person you get a whistle from. Aww, I eventually won Hubert's trust, and he admits he and the army needs us. Glad I picked him.

Wait, no paired endings? That blows. I hope this isn't a new trend since Engage didn't do that either (I love paired endings)

Ok, so it looks like some stuff would carry over to another playthrough on this file. So, in the future, I'd replay AG over my GW or SB playthrough to at least get 2 on the same one. I can't see myself replaying SB or GW. It's not like the story would matter since I could just skip it, but the gameplay is pretty much the same, so why not play the route with my favorites and the most unit choices on top of that?

So you can carry over supports and even unit level. So I could play Dimitri as the absurd level he's at in level one if I saved over my AG file? Because that would be funny. Probably boring. But funny.

Still feels good. One down. Two to go.

xxxx

[omgkalyppso]

Cyril & Khalid Post VW brother bonding hurt/comfort hours

Happy birthday!!!!

Cyril wakes up, which is the second surprising thing that's happened to him today. The first surprising thing is that today arrived for him at all. Or that he arrived at today. Or– whatever. This kind of philosophical-whatever isn't as important as the fact that he is, in fact, alive, despite his spinning head.

He can work with that.

He sits up, chest, back, arms– yeah, his whole body aching. After the arrow he had taken from atop his wyvern (is she okay?), he doesn't remember much. Falling from way high up does that to a guy. Don't these asshole bandits know the war is years over? 

He's not sure how exactly he's going to catch up on all the work he missed being in bed for so long. Guess he'll just have to power through it.

He manages to get one leg over the bed when the door slams open.

"Nope! Not happening."

Khalid, precariously carrying a tray, swings around and slams the door with his toe, rattling teapot and cups. Cyril twitches to help, but his muscles have other plans. Hissing with a pained groan, he flops back in bed. It’s now he realizes how plush it is, and how, despite the plain walls of the medical hall, he is wrapped in delicate, luxurious blankets and robes over his bandages.

“You dragged me all the way back to the palace?” Cyril mumbles. 

“Wouldn’t’ve had to if someone had retreated when I ordered.” Khalid grins, chipper as he pours two cups of tea, adding a bundle of something to the one he passes Cyril. Cyril raises a brow, props himself up, and takes the tea, giving it a sniff. He takes a sip. Only his training with Shamir those years ago keep him from coughing the foul sludge onto the bed. He’d hate to have to clean it later.

“What is this? Mud?”

“Rude! It’s your very favorite with a little extra twist to help you heal faster. I know it’s going to be impossible to make you stay in bed long enough to actually heal, so I thought I’d speed things along. You’re welcome.”

Cyril glares as he takes another sludgy sip. Khalid sits in the chair beside the bed, crossing his legs as he happily sips his unpoisoned tea. 

Cyril’s nose wrinkles, lips pursing as the aftertaste wipes away any memory of all the delicious foods he’s had since joining Khalid in the palace. He’ll have to ask Khalid to request his favorites as soon as he can eat solid food. Knowing this guy, though, he’ll make the whole damn meal into a feast. Again. 

“It tastes like shit.”

“Shit tea for my favorite little shit.”

“Should a king really talk like that?” Cyril jokes, but Khalid has always switched between his roles like gloves. He talks however best fits his role, in that moment. His role as king, his role as ambassador, his role as a friend, a companion. 

With Cyril? A younger brother.

Khalid grins. His chipper, all-is-well mask is very good today, but Cyril notes the wrinkles at his eyes, the slight darkness under the eyes that Khalid couldn’t cover with his fancy creams. Just from here, Cyril counts three scratches and two bruises. Khalid has been fussing with his lips again, and now they’re dry and torn. 

“I can talk how I like. Perks of being king and all, ” Khalid answers. “And you’ll listen to me, right?”

Ah. Yep, here it comes. 

“Khalid–”

“I told you to run, Cyril.”

Just like that, the atmosphere plunges from warm summer day to oncoming storm. Cyril downs the rest of his tea, holding his steel glare against Khalid’s sharpening diamond grin. Of course, he falters, looking at his hands into the dregs of tea-sludge in the empty cup.

“I know. I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it.”

“But you couldn’t.” The words are sharper than Khalid seems to intend. He clears his throat, standing as he takes his and Cyril’s cups and returns them to the tray. “I saw you go down, Cyril. I watched you crash to the ground with my own eyes.”

“Well, for all you saw it, I felt it. I’m still feeling it now.” Cyril half-assedly tries to quip. Khalid sets him with a firm glare before his expression softens. He pours another cup of tea, not adding his medicines again, and hands it to Cyril. Cyril sips on it, his sense of taste slowly returning. “I’m sorry.”

Khalid takes a deep breath. “Look, just… don’t do that, alright? Don’t put yourself into unnecessary danger. I know, I know, they were just bandits, but even the greatest tacticians of our generation can get caught off guard sometimes.” Despite the quip, his voice shakes, as do his hands when he pours himself more tea.

“This wasn’t your fault. I made my own decision. A bad one, sure,” Cyril says, “but it was my own.”

Khalid heaves a sigh as heavy as the responsibilities on his shoulders. If Cyril had died, Khalid would’ve had one less person to help him carry those burdens. And Cyril, not to brag, is pretty damn good at helping Khalid where he can. And he has to admit, he does like being alive quite a bit. There’s so many beautiful sights for him to see and so many wonderful foods for him to eat here, and though his Almyran language skills aren’t the best right now, they’re slowly coming back as he rips through story after story. It’d be a shame to let this life go to waste, he thinks. Plus he still has to sweep the main hall, scrub the kitchen, feed the wyverns–

“I know, but…I know, Cyril.” Khalid puts his teacup on the tray again and shifts to sit on the bed beside Cyril. “Here, let me check your bandages.”

And of course Khalid isn’t the best medic, but Cyril lets him look. Lets him see that Cyril is healing and will be okay. Khalid wraps him back up, but hesitates to move away. Instead, he bumps his head against Cyril’s, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Cyril follows suit.

“I’m still here,” Cyril whispers. “I’m here.”

Just as quickly as he sat down, Khalid gets up, gathering the things he brought with him.

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you again soon.” 

Yeah, he will, Cyril thinks as he lies back into the bed. For as long as Cyril can manage, he’ll be staying right here. 

(couldn’t figure out how to smoothly add it in but yes wyvern is okay)

🥺💚🏹💛🐉 OUGH!!!!! What an amazing and thoughtful birthday gift! Thank you.....

I'm so fond of the forehead touch and Cyril sipping his sludge...

[kyogre-blue]

SS is done.

The most standout part: I got the Rhea S rank. It was good. I support it, but I wish there was a gen version and also that it was available on VW. My general impression is that VW actually gives you more chances to ask after and worry for Rhea (plus Claude is a rather meh romance option), so it would be great if I could get with her there too.

In general, I wish VW and SS were just one route. Both have some nice small details, but given how similar they are, I feel like you'd get a better experience if they were just combined.

Checking my VW endgame notes, it seems VW gives you info dump about Agartha, which definitely feels missing in SS, and SS gives you a bit more detail about Byleth's deal from Rhea, which adds some nice details on the Rhea relationship front. Seriously, they should have just combined them.

(Hilariously, Catherine's endcard outright contradicts the paired Rhea one. They are incompatible, but I got both. Additionally, Ingrid's card seems to be written for Crimson Flower, since it mentions Galatea being "seized" and Ingrid needing to push strongly to be allowed to govern it, which comes across weirdly as a post-war in the Byleth-led United Kingdom, especially since the other Lions kids I recruited all got their lord positions without any apparent fuss.)

Overall, not much else to say about SS. Final take: SS and VW are really obviously the same route, but even though SS was supposedly written first, VW feels marginally better in its focus and I enjoyed it more. However, the Rhea stuff specifically is good, and I wish I could get it on VW. Yup.

Final save file time: 95:19. Minus the VW playthrough, it's 44:07, so a bit faster. Specifically post-route split, it's 20:16, so it seems like the part that I finished faster was actually just Academy phase, possibly because I just didn't care much for the BE kids.

Liveblogging notes:

Looking closely at the battle selection screen, it seems Shambhala is at the very eastern tip of the Empire. There's a bit of mountain that stretches down from the Throat across Airmid River, and it seems to be there.

Narration calls it a "sprawling underground city."

Thales was kind of a chump!

Ah, I just realized I forgot to check his X description blurbs. They probably weren't too interesting tho.

The Agarthans are super mad about living underground and not having "light." Thales also name drops Agartha in his battle line vs Seteth and in the cutscene afterwards. Aside from their ability description, I think this is probably the first time their proper name is mentioned. But we uh, don't seem to discuss this much?

Small scene with Nemesis's coffin is missing, I think. Well, obviously because he's not the final boss now. iirc the scene immediately after the month change, with everyone freaking out over Rhea is new instead. It's a little weird because iirc VW gives you more opportunities to express concern for her. Here, the Rhea focus feels a bit less supported.

Seteth didn't realize you already knew that Rhea is the Immaculate One (which you did, btw).

Seteth "long ago" lost the power to change form, but "it seems" Rhea has not. My dude, did you not know... He does confirm that he's also a child of the goddess, which Rhea keeps hidden in VW. Flayn is also counted as one of the children of the goddess, even though she's more like a grandchild. It's a general term for dragons.

Seteth and Flayn press Byleth about taking over as the leader of Fodlan in some capacity, now that Rhea's future is uncertain.

We find the Sword and Bow of Zoltan in Shambhala. I was wondering about whether these things existed, since Zoltan is a dude that got namedropped in a small quest item description a while back. I also have an Axe of Zoltan though I can't remember exactly where I picked it up. No spear?

Just noting that you use Arcane Crystals to repair magical weapons like the Bolt Axe, Mythril to repair sacred weapons like Cichol's Spear of Assal, and Umbral Steel for relics. Mythril is also used on forging the rusted weapons that require A+ professor rank. iirc they're legendary weapons from other games or something like that. Smithing Stones are for normal weapons of all rarities.

On VW, this month was about Nemesis appearing and us going to fight him, but here on SS, that doesn't happen, so the explore dialogue is all about Seteth telling us that we should become the new Ruler of Fodlan and us taking the month to think about it. Everyone around the monastery comments on this, how we should think about it carefully, how they believe in us, how they're thinking about the future, etc. It's... hm. I think it's okay, but it really highlights how much Byleth has not been setup for this role At All.

They're a mercenary who became a teacher via nepotism and while we do things in the story that you could probably read as proof of Byleth's ability to lead, they don't really feel that way, especially since Seteth can end up spending half the war refusing what we suggest. Byleth is also just... not a real character. So them becoming the big deal leader is kinda... yeah.

Anyway, I accidentally ended the month early. But whatever.

Before you tell Rhea your "decision," she gives you exposition about how she made you and Sothis's crest stone is in you. She wanted to see Sothis again and thought she could regain everything she had lost.

Sitri was Rhea's 12th attempt. She "grew up" without Sothis's consciousness and fell in love with Jeralt. But when she gave birth, the child was not breathing and she herself was also "in grave danger." Sitri told Rhea to take the crest stone from her and put it into her baby. Otherwise, both would have died.

Byleth is suggested to be able to house Sothis's consciousness because they have both the crest stone and a body born from a parent with Rhea's blood.

Rhea is aware that Sothis gave you her power and disappeared, which means Rhea's dearest wish did not come true, but she's accepting of that. She basically entrusts Fodlan and the future to you.

And she just flips out in the middle of that.

"White Beasts" appear all over the monastery. They are from priests and knights that Rhea shared her blood and "stones" with. Tho given how JP plurals work, it's impossible to tell if Rhea is meant to have one crest stone or several. Demonic Beasts also run in??

Enemies are Frenzied Church Soldiers with minor crests of Seiros, Altered Golems, White Beasts (cardinal that has transformed and gone mad due to the rage of the Immaculate One) with Blest Crest Stone Shards (bestowed by a saint and wielded as a weapon), and the Immaculate One herself. She has a crest stone of Serios, can recover HP when near a White Beast and is described as having been driven to an uncontrollable anger due to the power of the goddess.

This battle was annoying because of the Classic setting. The whole business with Rhea having a private army of people whom she shared blood with is, hm. But I get the feeling this was done purely to explain her battle having the same mechanics as with Nemesis and the 10 Elites. It's... an interesting tidbit that these cardinals and such exist, but kinda weird that the crest of Seiros is actually this common, especially since they can ALL presumably pass it down to their kids, and I would expect Rhea had done this for more than just one generation.

(funny concept: after a thousand years of Rhea just sharing her blood all over, a good three quarters of Fodlan has some Seiros crest blood and it manifests pretty much at random in people all over.)

Anyway, final blow by Flayn.

OK, enough screwing around. tbh I do like Rhea, so there's some emotional resonance in everyone being very worried about her and having little voicelines about how they want to pay back the debts they owe to her, and her sadness and suffering and all that. It's not the worst.

She mistakes Byleth for Sothis when collapsing in the cathedral.

They did make a mistake: Rhea transforms in her dressing gown without the mantle or headpiece, but she changes back in full archbishop regalia.

The post-battle exposition exposition is kinda... ah yes, all nations in Fodlan are gone, but you see the Church is leading people toward a new... nation? How does this work. Sorry, but I don't see a religious government (??) as a good thing.

Rhea says she had a vision of flying free and speaking with Sothis while near death. She's happy she survived... so am I.

Rhea's wish was for peace, but she admits fault in propagating a false history and deceiving the faithful. And she did a bit of forbidden experimentation on the side, obvs. We forgive her tho.

I wish there was a gen way to save her, without the romance. It's such a good coda, honestly, without the marriage.

I wish Byleth was a more concrete character. Not necessarily a super detailed one, but with at least some grounding traits.

Still, Rhea romance scene is pretty good. WAY better than Flayn. Why can't I do this on VW..........

Endings: Ashe takes over Gaspard as the new lord. Galatea was "seized" what the heck, though Ingrid did rule it. Felix still ended up Duke Fraldarius. Sylvain talked his way into peace with Sreng, good on him. Lindhart "escaped the Empire" but went missing. Dorothea fled with her troupe to a secret location. Petra went to Brigit. Caspar fell on a battlefield. Bernadetta because seriously ill and lived as a recluse. Ferdinand returned to his territory but went missing. Catherine became Guardian of Zanado, but why was she shaking up with MY wife in solitude? Because in the ending card with Byleth, Rhea is still archbishop and assists the leader of the new "United Kingdom of Fodlan." Shamir became Robin Hood. Alois became captain of the knights. Seteth became very tolerant lol

[semi-imaginary-place]

politics of a fe3h golden ending

All the endings have a united Fodlan because the devs have a boner for absolute monarchies and Romance of the Three Kingdoms which ends in unification. Realistically speaking unification isn't necessarily better. I mean compare Europe with it's dozens of tiny countries vs. idk China or India which have many different cultures and ethnicities within them, neither system is inherently worse but each has it's own issues. Fodlan could do fine with 3 major nations just as it could do fine as 1 nation, what matters is how it's done. What's more important are the systems of governance, justice systems, resource management, stability, and prosperity of the continent.

So I think monarchies just like all totalitarian regimes are unjust and just bad ways to do government and I like democracy and republics, however FE3H loves monarchies so there's the question of a golden ending for me vs for the characters in universe.

Byleth makes a better advisor than a Leader, they lack the vision to truly rule well, but they are both smart, practical, and efficient and would be a good policy editor. In a Unified Fodlan the ideal leader out of the cast would be Edelgard and Claude, a dual leadership is unlikely but these two balance each other out well that the ideal situation is where they can influence each other no matter who officially has the higher position. Dimitri needs to be put out to pasture, send him to a farm up north, he's unsuited to leadership.

I think a good transitional government would be if instead of heads of nobles ruling a region (Gloucester, Charon, Aegir, etc.), each region has a governor which is legally a non-hereditary position. Realistically this means many of the nobles stay in power for this generation so they aren't likely to revolt but it lays the foundations for a less nepotism and hereditary power. The nobles can keep their styles (Duke, Count, etc.) but these titles no longer have meaning like the style/title doesn't automatically come with a territory or Cabinet position. On a national level a transitional government style could be like the Leicester Roundtable where policy is decided by council vote and and council seats are representative of regions.

Without Unification the House Leaders are likely to become national leaders. Edelgard is quite popular is Adrestia and Faerghus is a death cult that loves monarchies and they almost all buy into divine right of kings so left to their own devices they'd choose Dimitri. Leicester in this way is more progressive and independent and could survive without Claude. As shown in the CF, AM, and VW endings each leader does eventually make good reforms especially in Adrestia and Leicester, but they all could do fine as long as they can maintain diplomacy and not have Edelgard sent the continent into war again. The path to democracy and republic is clearest in Adrestia and Leicester. Edelgard during the game takes several measures to break up the power of the nobility and more equally distribute power, prioritizing merit over lineage. The Leicester Alliance is already the closest thing to a republic in Fodlan so it only needs minor adjustments to increase enfranchisement, increasing council positions and making them by election instead of hereditary. Faerghus need work but Dimitri at least seems open to the idea of giving non-nobles more rights and power.

There's also the interesting question of who counts as Fodlan and what to do about them. Everyone agrees that Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester count but what about Duscar, Sreng, outlying regions like Hapi's hometown or Balthus's mom's hometown? Fodlan seems to be both a culture and a continent but the venn diagram while mostly overlapping isn't a perfect circle.

Oh yeah and the Church! The only thing I hate more than monarchy is theocracy (Why SS! why are you so well written but so cringe politically!!). Ideally the power of the Church should be checked and rendered politically impotent. During the game the king and emperor of Adrestia and Faerghus derive authority from the Church, but Church and state should be decoupled and authority should ideally be derived from the People. I don't think the Church of Seiros needs to be demolished or made illegal but it shouldn't be a political institution. So religious institutions should be regulated. I agree with Claude, Rhea needs to go.

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

literally why is she a commander though? this is the actual worst command from a commander i have ever seen given in literally any fe game. i would have to guess edelgard gave her the position because i can't imagine why else she'd have it (and i forget if it was ever mentioned why she's in the position); but then like, why would edelgard put her in that position knowing what she's like and that she's not commander material?

either edelgard put her in that position because she's for some reason too dumb to realize it's a stupid choice and is not good for her army, or it's because bernadetta is a noble... which has unfortunate implications in any direction.

either her goal is to send the nobles into battle as commanders to kill off the current nobles because she doesn't like them/they didn't support her claims/war efforts (i.e. the nobles who didn't agree with her could be getting forced to fight to be killed off so it's less of a problem for her down the line, which i feel like wouldn't be the case for bernadetta since she seems very pro-edelgard/pro-empire in hopes? might not entirely be the case but it's the vibe i get from her various exploration dialogue, particularly in ag), her army is so badly off that she doesn't have enough capable commanders and has to send anything she can get, or the nobility problem in adrestia is so bad that nobody will listen to a non-noble as a commander... which is in stark contrast with the entire rest of fodlan and also means she's making her country's problems sound like they're everyone's problem.

just, all in all, bernadetta being a commander does not work unless:

edelgard is intentionally trying to get her killed/is just using her as fodder to keep her proper commanders alive longer (which considering she set her on fire at gronder in houses, even if she's not explicitly doing it to kill her, she definitely uses bernadetta as fodder to be discarded in vw/am, which checks out with her any sacrifice is a good sacrifice for her goals mentality)

edelgard is just stupid (the most unlikely situation here, especially because even if she did something counter productive to the war effort, Hubert would help and course correct)

her army is so bad off that she doesn't have enough capable commanders who can get respect for being a good commander whether they're a noble or not (this isn't sb, so shez doesn't count)

which like, edelgard doing something stupid would fall to the writers doing something stupid because edelgard in and of herself isn't brainless. typically she has a reason for doing something, especially in regard to her war efforts, so i can't see why she would just send bernadetta of all people willy nilly. it makes me think it has to do with nobility specifically and she was likely limited in her options, but the game never explores that.

bernadetta could have been a recruit that started out as an enemy for game mechanics, sure, but as a commander? like, is it really just her status as a noble that she's a commander for? because again, why would she put someone like this in such an important position while aiming to win a war? i feel like if she just picked whoever/her weakest commander link because she had the death knight there too (so in this case possibly figured it doesn't matter who is commanding with his strength present, so even if they weren't well commanded wanted to believe they would get by on pure strength alone), that's just incompetency on her part.

generally speaking i feel like bernadetta is more neutral on the war itself but more in support of edelgard in general in hopes, and i can't see her ever causing edelgard problems down the line, so i don't feel like edelgard would send her off to battle expecting/hoping for her to die in the belief that it would benefit her/prevent issues later. i also can't see why, knowing bernadetta, edelgard would leave her in command of... anything at all to do with the war. if she wants to win the war, why would she have someone who can barely leave her room out of fear of people command units in a war?

so that just really makes me think she had no other options, which like... what was she doing the previous two years then? planning for war obviously, but she still ended up with this? she still couldn't get her army to a better point? was it because if she tried putting a non-noble in charge of anything that people still wouldn't fight under that person's command?

in faerghus even if they don't like it, they'll do it if they at least know the person is commander material. is it meant to reflect how opposite their situations are? how planning for war for two years made this kind of difference from improving the country itself on top of its army for two years?

bernadetta as a commander is just so wtf for me. could the writers not think of anything else to do with her? she could've been a recruitable enemy, but the commander angle just feels weird.

[gascon-en-exil]

Hi! This is Blackacre438 from youtube dusting off a tumblr account I haven't used since 2014. Holy moly. If you're still at all interested in talking about 3 Houses (and it's ok if you aren't), you had mentioned a long while ago that among the supports you most wanted to see in 3H that didn't already exist was Dimitri and Ferdinand. Given you're a Ferdibert shipper and an enjoyer of the Fargheus Polycule, how well do you think Ferdinand would fit into the Homosocial knight culture of Fargheus?

Hey there. I do have a ton of FE16 headcanons and miscellaneous content on here if you search that tag going back to 2019-21, but after that point I did mostly run out of new things to say about the game (and started my YouTube channel, which took away a lot of my attention) so it largely dropped off. These days I don't keep tabs on all that much apart from the never-ending discourse, because there are still somehow prolific trolls in the fandom even now. But even so -

Under more serious readings of his character, Ferdinand would likely take well to Faerghus's homosocial knight culture if he had the chance to get adjusted to it. With that said, I pretty much never go for sedate Ferdinand (or Ferdibert) readings these days because the melodramatic, kinky dark comedy route is vastly more entertaining. I've long entertained the headcanon that, even in an AM AU where Hubert survives because Ferdinand advocated for sparing his life, the two of them would not work well in the polycule. Hubert would be as vindictive and evil as ever, and Ferdinand would almost certainly be more interested in his lover than in fooling around with a bunch of guys who to a man aren't kinky enough for his tastes (Sylvain, maybe, and Yuri if we're counting him...the others, not so much).

I can also easily see Adrestians in general looking down on Faerghus's culture of knighthood, including the distinctly martial flavor of homoeroticism that coexists alongside heterosexual marriage - a take on male sexual relationships present in several real-world premodern cultures. If Ferdinand and Hubert are campy theatre gays in a superficially high-culture Empire, they'd likely consider rather primitive a country where the men are all bound together in eroticized brotherhood and yearning to die in each other's arms on the battlefield. And on the flip side, I don't think the Faerghus boys* would really understand Ferdinand's perspective on things like camp or the gender-as-performance appeal of drag - an interest I infer from some lines in his Manuela supports. It goes without saying that they wouldn't get his certified villainfucker tendencies, either, even if a postgame Hubert would be expected to remain on his best behavior (he absolutely isn't).

To go even sillier however, several of us in this corner of the fandom have the headcanon that Dimitri is mostly a bottom because his Blaiddyd-boosted strength would literally kill most partners who try to take his dick. Ferdinand von "huge hole" Aegir would take that in particular as a challenge.

*Dedue is, as always, the wild card here, because he's not actually from Faerghus. I know I've written in the past about how Dimidue stands out from the other Lions M/M pairings in its dynamic and the presentation of their ending, which sees them cohabitate and apparently never marry anyone else. This not only lends itself to a reading of them adopting children and forming a semi-monogamous family unit, but it also speaks to how Dedue is disruptive (in a good way!) to the pre-Tragedy status quo of the Blue Lions. It gives Dimitri and Dedue's relationship a very different texture from that of Dimilix and Sylvix while also giving it more dramatic layers than Ashedue on account of the bits of Faerghus's knighthood culture that Dedue does pick up on (ref: his Gilbert supports, his resolve to take revenge for Dimitri in VW). And as I ship all four of those pairings in some form or another, more variety is great for allowing them to feel distinct while also coexisting peacefully.

That said, I think Dedue would find Ferdinand's penchant for theatrics bizarre if not actually obnoxious, and he absolutely wouldn't trust anyone so enamored of a man like Hubert.

[raxistaicho]

Old Adrestia bad so Edelgard bad!

So, let’s do more Analyzer! By which I mean Fantasy Invader.

Yeah, so I gave him a shitty nickname as a courtesy to Edelgard Critical (because in this end it’s about the arguments, not the person making them) but they decided to just announce who I was talking about because I guess they thought I was being sneaky.

That’s about what I get for trying to meet them halfway, I suppose. Still, don’t go and harass anybody I mention, it would just feed into their victim narrative. And we’re better than that, in the end.

So anyways, this next post from Invader was in reply to something Randomnameless posted in which they were talking about a note found late in Scarlet Blaze which details how the Southern Church fell:

Essentially, Randomnameless was trying to present the situation as one of sexism, which might be the case, I suppose. Seems more like petty political garbage to me. The previous emperor seemed to want the position of Minister of Religion out of House Varley but when they died, Count Varley reneged on the deal and Victoria decided to risk civil unrest within the Empire to get the position anyways.

Honestly, it doesn’t seem to be like anyone was “right” in this dispute. The point, however, is to present the Empire as having a history of institutional sexism, which it probably does, given the setting. But as I’ve said before, Edelgard and her fans don’t have to apologize for the Adrestia that was before her time. But on to the main event.

Nobody’s accusing the church of wronging all the characters personally, Invader. Yes, obviously, Bernie’s abuse was just because Count Varley was a sexist dick, but the problem is Rhea and the Church of Seiros laid the social groundwork upon which men like him were able to be born into positions of authority.

Oh now on the subject of Hanneman’s sister you absolutely can’t sidestepped the church’s involvement. By tying Crests to the approval of the goddess, by essentially making the Divine Right of Kings (aristocrats in this case, but same feeling) a thing you can quantify and test for, Rhea set the stage upon which these tragedies played out. Fodlan has to lose its obsession with Crests immediately, not cling to them for fear of its metaphorical sword rusting.

Edelgard did not cause, nor does she represent, the Empire’s declined state in by the time of 1180, so how can the Eagles come to represent it if they side with her?

Now we’re delving straight into, I believe, Crushed Nugget’s Everyone is Miserable in CF set of posts, which is something I’d reeeeeaaaaaally like to dig into sometime, because it’s just a lot of petty and trivial ways to try to demonstrate everybody as being unhappy or less-fulfilled characters in CF.

These can range from the ever-popular “Lysithea doesn’t want to destroy the Empire in CF”, to “Yuri feels overworked in CF”, to “Raphael is irresponsible and happy in CF”, to “Ingrid is sadge in CF”. Yeah, being happy is bad if in CF and being unhappy is also bad if in CF.

It’s basically just her plucking at literally anything she can find to say that CF is bad in that exact moment without any regard for consistent standards. Ignatz’s is especially amazing given you know if the paintings he drew were reversed she’d instead say VW Ignatz is good for wanting to immortalize the horror of war so we never forget what war takes from us while CF Ignatz is bad for trying to cover up the pain with pretty pictures of something.

But I digress.

Linhardt and Caspar are largely the same in and out of CF to the best of my recollection, but Ferdinand, uhh...

You don’t wanna mention Ferdie, Invader.

SS Ferdinand:

Just sticks to his self-identity as a noble, following in his corrupt father’s footsteps.

CF Ferdinand:

Grows as a person, becoming more than the nobleman he once considered himself, turns from his father’s path.

Petra, I have a post about. Edelgard was the one who abused Bernie and keeps the commoners down? Nah. Both are perpetrated by the system of nobility and aristocracy, the system Edelgard wants to overthrow and the one Dimitri wants to retain but make good.

Edelgard was the one who killed Hanneman’s sister? No, it was the obsession with Crests that killed her, the thing Edelgard is fighting to destroy and Dimitri thinks should be kept but “made good”.

The point about Marquis Vestra is derived from Hanneman’s support line with Hubert, where Hanneman speculates Vestra betrayed Ionius to protect Hubert. Since there’s no evidence one way or the other, I won’t get into that this time. I believe Fantasy Invader made a post on that.

And as a concluding note, let’s again remind ourselves that Fantasy Invader wants to portray Edelgard as fighting to uphold the old Adrestia that committed these injustices, when she’s anything but.

[pesterloglog]

Cronus Ampora, Meenah Peixes

Act 6, page 5308

CRONUS: wvell vwell wvelvlw...

MEENAH: ...

CRONUS: GLO8ES.

MEENAH: wha

#38?

CRONUS: i sawv you vwalking my vway, and i had this smooth line all ready to go.

CRONUS: but for some reason i decided to open it vwith a tongue tvwister?

CRONUS: vwery nice ampora, starting your killer line with three consecutivwe 'W' vwords in a rowv.

#W's are hard #theyre hard and no one understands #(V's too)

MEENAH: what uh

MEENAH: was your killer pickup line goin to be

MEENAH: or should i ask

#no

CRONUS: sigh, nevwer evwen MIND, its so ruined nowv.

#just nevwer EVWEN

CRONUS: i just sawv you strutting in my direction, vwith all of your impressivwe moxy and confidence, for the first time in, howv long?

CRONUS: and i got a little excited. i vwas going to blowv you out of the vwater vwith that line, but, i guess nothings changed?

MEENAH: guess not

MEENAH: sounds like youre still the bard of tries too hard

CRONUS: oh, nice. you alvways knewv howv to tvwist the fork.

CRONUS: actually, all you girls are quite adept at tvwisting your respectivwe utensils.

#utensilkind

CRONUS: the guys too, now that i think about it. can i ask you a question? why do all you pretentious scenester types enjoy being so cruel to especially sensitivwe and artistic people?

MEENAH: so i take it even after a billion sweeps here with a boat load of eligible spook shorties to mack on

MEENAH: you still never got any action

CRONUS: first you tvwist the fork, then you use it to pry into my personal life? thats really just so svwell of you, meenah.

CRONUS: vwithout commenting specifically on that, (because seriously, VWHAT? so rude), i vwill say that it gets vwery frustrating after the first fewv epochs trying to make heads or tails vwhat people are evwen LOOKING for. i mean, in ANY quadrant.

CRONUS: nowv, please don't tell anyone i said so, but you and i both knowv pretty much all these people should feel honored to go out vwith a guy like me.

CRONUS: vwhat being royalty and all, and not evwen slightly put off by dating dowvn on the spectrum. i mean, really, howv much more evwident can i make it to evweryone that im really a cool, progressivwe, easy going dude, vwho doesnt take the social order seriously or buy into any of the stereotypes? first of all, as if the hemospectrum scene isnt 8EYOND played out.

#you should be sticking your fork in THAT

CRONUS: i barely EVWER evwen bring up my high social status. it couldnt be LESS of a big deal to me, but i think people maybe are still intimidated by it? theyre probably putting me on a pedestal, in spite of all my easy going assurances that my royal lineage is something i nevwer evwen think about. like, no friend, i am just like you. vwe laugh at the same jokes, listen to, vwell, to some extent, the same music...

#i at least USED to listen to music you like #does that count?

CRONUS: all these cats and kittens, im telling you. theyre alvways drawvn to the freaks and rejects. you havwe to be 8ROKEN in some vway to get a little concupiscent attention.

#cats #kittens #freaks #rejects #broken

CRONUS: they nevwer seem to givwe the time of day to a guy vwhos sensitivwe, and listens to people, and sticks to his poetry and music, and i guess... just someone vwho tries to be there for them.

#sensitivwe #listens #poetry #music #there for them

CRONUS: hovwevwer, the bright side of my vwarious rejections is that is has helped me craft a privwate list of people vwho are objectivwely fucking terrible, vwhich id be happy to share vw...

CRONUS: meenah? vwhered you go?

CRONUS: crud, she vwalked avway vwhile i vwas saying stuff.

CRONUS: really blewv that one in record time.

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

Hi!

🍴 - Favorite food(s) to eat?

🍭 - Favorite Candy?

🍇 - Favorite fruits?

🚘 - Dream car(s)?

🚔 - Have you ever been arrested?

Hello hello! <33

🍴 - everything! My mom's recipe of ratatouille lasagne is top tier tho ahaha

🍭 - does chocolate count? ;P

🍇 - pomegranate and grapes

🚔 - nope ahahahaha, not yet at least :P

🚘 - when i was younger i always wanted a little yellow VW beetle!! I'd still like one, or maybe a classic car like a Cadillac or Mustang. Or a Jaguar or Ferarri idk ahahaha

👋 Send Me Emojis 👀👌m