#i promise i’ll log off at some point

[moonhoures]

Video Games

🕷️ kinktober — day 1: angry / makeup sex 🕸️

pairing: jay (enhypen) + reader (g/n)

genre: non-idol!au, mild angst, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, pet name: ‘baby’ (for reader), unprotected sex, creampie

word count: ~1.9k

synopsis: jay is seemingly put in the doghouse after forgetting to pick you up from work like he promised. but there are some ways he can earn your forgiveness . . .

a/n: this is not as ‘angry’ as you’re probably picturing, but hopefully you guys like it nonetheless 😅 enjoy!

posted: october 1, 2023

kinktober masterlist

One thing. You asked him to remember one thing. “Don’t forget, I need you to pick me up from work at eight!” You told him twice and reminded him once more before you walked out of the apartment to catch a bus. Jay nodded each time, even going as far to say “Seriously, ________, I’m not a kid. I’ll remember” when you reminded him the last time.

Yet, you stood at the front door of your job at 8:17 p.m, looking and feeling stupid. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, and your face was stuck in an immovable scowl. You knew you should’ve taken your coworker’s offer to drive you home, but you had put your faith in your boyfriend to do what you asked of him. How silly of you.

You texted and called him multiple times before giving up; he wasn’t answering and he probably wasn’t going to any time soon. I swear if he’s playing those damn video games, you thought with a bite of aggravation. You loved your boyfriend to the moon and back, but if there’s one thing you didn’t like about him it was how attached to his games he got. He was majorly competitive, to the point it was difficult to get him off of the console, especially when he was close to winning whatever dumb game he was playing. And heaven forbid he’s playing with his friends who only encourage his habit even further.

After ten more minutes you went ahead and walked down the street to the bus stop. Your nerves were on edge and your head was on a swivel. You couldn’t help but curse Jay in your head for putting you in this position and making you so anxious. Since your car was in the shop, you had been picking up rides from him and your coworker. You wanted to avoid taking the bus at night at all cost, which is exactly why you nagged your boyfriend to pick you up tonight.

When you finally made it home, the door flung open without care, dinging against the door stopper just in front of the wall. It rattled a bit; you had hoped he would hear it and be startled. But when you walked through the living room, you were even more pissed to see him on the game with his head set on, his phone turned upside down on the table in front of him. Of course he didn’t get my texts and calls, he couldn’t see or hear them.

You scoffed, not giving him a second look as you stormed into your room and slammed the door shut. You vaguely heard him say “Hey, baby” as you got in the hallway.

You decided to run a bath to cool off before you went off on him and said some things you would regret. In the mean time Jay had found it odd you didn’t answer him, his brows knitting together. He wondered why you were in such a weird mood, but figured you might’ve just had a bad day. He shrugged and reached for his phone to check the time. Maybe I’ll have time for one more match, he thought. The screen of his phone lit up when he flipped it over, several missed notifications taking up the entire screen. Some social media notifications were interrupted by five missed texts and seven missed calls from you. Each text asking where he was, how long he would be, had he forgotten? His heart sank into his stomach.

“Shit.”

Jay tore off his headset and quickly logged out of the game, running to your bedroom door. His hand shifted the door knob but was met by resistance when he tried to open it. He closed his eyes in defeat and sighed. His knuckles tapped against the hard surface a few times, “Baby, open the door. I’m so sorry I forgot to pick you up.”

On the other side of the door, you ignored him, turning off the running water in the bath tub before walking back in the room to get some pajamas.

“________, please open the door. I’m really sorry. I know I fucked up,” he continued, voice dripping with sincerity, “I know you told me multiple times, and you don’t have to forgive me. But please just let me apologize to you. I don’t want you to go to bed upset.”

You paused at your dresser. Your determination to stay mad at him was slipping. But your pettiness wasn’t, “Did you win?”

Jay arched an eyebrow in confusion, “Huh?”

“Your game. Did you win? It must’ve been a really important match for you to forget about me.”

Jay let out a groan of annoyance, not so much with you but with himself, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Really, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I’ll do all the chores this weekend. I’ll cook your favorite dinner for you. I won’t play my games tomorrow.”

He heard your scoff from the hallway, practically heard your eye roll, too.

“I won’t play my games for a week,” he corrected himself, “A month even. Whatever it takes to get you to talk to me.”

His heart pounded as it grew uncomfortably quiet. He didn’t even hear your soft footsteps, so his eyes became wide when the door in front of him opened. You stood in front of him in just your robe, your disscontempt etched into your face. If looks could kill, he wondered if he would be six feet under already.

“I told you three times, Jay.”

“I know.”

He frowned, looking more ashamed than you had ever seen him. You secretly wished you didn’t love him so much. It made it harder to be upset with him. You wanted him to feel bad, at least for tonight.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“I deserve that,” he agreed.

“And I’m gonna hold you to those promises,” you continued, “No games for two weeks.”

He was shocked that you had downsized the punishment from the month he suggested, but he didn’t show his surprise in case you took it back, “Okay.”

Your hardened stare lingered on him a little longer, and he grew nervous for what would come out of your mouth next. Little did he know you were actually thinking about how cute he looked. How mad you were at yourself for finding him so attractive at a time like this. Fuck you for being so hot, you thought, as if he could hear your thoughts.

“Are we good now?” he asked timidly. His hand cautiously reached up to cup your cheek in a sign of truce.

“You’ll have to earn your way back into my good graces,” you cracked a small smile.

“I’ll do anything,” he repeated, stepping closer to rest his hands on your waist. Your perfume lingered on your robe, filling his nose with the sweet, familiar fragrance that made his heart skip a beat.

“Anything?”

He nodded at your question, a smirk creeping onto his lips. If this was going in the direction he was thinking, then he was about to be a very happy man. His heartbeat accelerated as your hands found purchase on his chest, your palms flat over his pecs. Your eyes lingered on the small sliver of his collarbone that was exposed by the neckline of his t-shirt. When your gaze met his, there was a clear intention behind them that sent blood rushing to Jay’s loins.

Neither of you said anything as you tugged him into the bedroom and closed the door. In a matter of minutes you were on the bed, legs spread to make room for your boyfriend’s hips. Your robe was untied and thrown open as he slathered wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest. Your hand was buried in his hair, pulling lightly on it to keep him where you wanted him.

“You’re gonna fuck me exactly how I want,” you panted, hips already bucking up against his clothed crotch. He moaned in affirmation, the vibrations tickling your nipple that was in his mouth.

“Gonna give me the best orgasm ever,” you added, looking down to see his eyes closed as he laved at your collarbone. They opened to look you in the eye as he came back face-to-face.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he assured you, nodding as he connected your lips with his once again.

Skin-on-skin contact and heavy breaths filled the room shortly after. Jay’s clothes were quickly discarded and he was pounding into you like his life depended on it. Your fingers gripped his back, loving the way you could feel his muscles flexing with every movement. He tried to hold back low grunts as your ankles locked around his waist, causing him to thrust deeper into you. He felt anchored down, but in the best possible way. This position was as close to paradise as he would probably ever get.

“Faster, Jay,” you breathed out, fingernails digging into his skin. He gritted his teeth and fastened his pace as much as he could.

“Fuck,” you cursed, legs tightening around him even more, “Jay, faster!”

“Baby, I’m trying,” he practically whimpered, his thrusts getting a little quicker, but also sloppier. He was losing stamina. You knew he was trying his best, you could just tell. You thought about giving him some slack, but then you remembered how you two got in this position in the first place. You weren’t going to go easy on him at all; he didn’t deserve it.

“Not trying hard enough,” you sighed in annoyance, moving your hips up against his thrusts for more stimulation, “You’re so annoying.”

“So suddenly?” he scoffed out a small laugh, looking at you incredulously. He knew you well enough to know you weren’t being completely serious. You were just letting out your aggression; he didn’t take it to heart.

“Y-yeah,” you panted, wincing when his cock hit a certain spot inside of you that felt a little too good, “You need to listen to me.”

He nodded, his arms shaking a bit from the energy was exerting trying to please you and keep himself stable, “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”

“Promise?”

In that moment his gaze met yours, mere inches apart. Your breaths mingled between you, chests almost pressed against each other. He could tell you were getting close when he felt you growing tight around his dick. You always looked so beautiful like this—unraveling under him, by his own doing.

“Promise,” he sealed his words with a kiss against your lips, a low growl forming in his throat when you arms wrapped around his shoulders to hold him close to you. Your bodies pressed together like this, he could feel all of you; it drove him insane, “Now, cum for me.”

You were already well on your way when he spoke. Your legs constricted his lower body before growing slack at his sides. Your arms loosely circle him, keeping him close during the aftershocks of your orgasm. He came not long after, keeping slow, shallow thrusts until he came to a halt. He rested his face in the crook of your neck, simply cherishing the proximity to you.

“Can I join you for your bath?” he asked after your breaths had both settled back into their normal inflections.

“Sure, but the water’s probably cold by now. We’ll need to refill it,” your voice was sweet in answering him, as if any other answer would be ridiculous. Your next sentence, however, proved to humble him, “You’re still sleeping on the couch tonight, though.”

Jay cracked a smile, nodding in agreement as he helped you off the bed, “Understood.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedrswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

[nyoomerr]

if fic prompts are still open then bingge and shen yuan both trying to attic wife each other?

if they aren’t then sorry for bothering you

big fan of bingge trying to atticwife sy, VERY big fan of sy trying to atticwife bingge.

warnings on this one for - you guessed it - atticwifing. lmao.

---

Shen Yuan considers the fireplace of Luo Binghe’s study with a critical eye. Near the back of it, he can see a piece of wood that sticks out from the others, skinnier and shorter and of much higher quality wood than the other logs. It’s struggling to burn, the lacquer on it making it harder for a flame to catch than a plain log would.

This is because it is a piece of Shen Yuan’s cane, which is certainly not designed to be firewood.

It isn’t a large piece. It’s small enough that someone who doesn’t actually use a cane might not even notice it. If, for instance, the person who cut the piece off wasn’t someone familiar with using a cane, they may think this to be a very stealthy length to cut.

Shen Yuan has been using this cane for over half a decade, though, so he’s intimately familiar with exactly how tall it should be. Having it suddenly be shorter by a couple finger widths was so startling that he’d nearly fallen this morning when he first put his weight on it. More than that, it’s a significant enough change in the cane’s height that using the cane has become a bit more difficult than it should be, making the pain in Shen Yuan’s knees and back flare up after only half a day.

Difficult enough, in fact, that it becomes tempting to not move around much at all. Shen Yuan suspects that had been the point.

“Binghe,” he calls, still staring thoughtfully at the missing piece of his cane in the fireplace. “Come here for a second?”

Obediently, Luo Binghe abandons his paperwork to come up behind Shen Yuan, laying his arms over Shen Yuan’s shoulders and resting his head on Shen Yuan’s. 

Luo Binghe is no small man, but he’s also not foolish, and has quite a bit of experience with past lovers. With his core strength and… intimate understanding of Shen Yuan’s body, it should be no trouble for him to take up this pose without actually putting any of his weight on Shen Yuan. After all, Shen Yuan can barely keep his own weight up, some days.

Luo Binghe instead leans just enough of his weight on Shen Yuan that he can feel his joints creaking. This, too, makes him want to sit down and not move much. It might even force him to - it wouldn’t surprise Shen Yuan if this pressure from Luo Binghe is slowly worsening his bones and joints, bit by bit until something gives.

“Yuan-er,” Luo Binghe croons, nuzzling into Shen Yuan’s hair. “Did you miss me?”

Shen Yuan hums. He hadn’t missed Luo Binghe, really, because Luo Binghe had been in the same room as him this whole time.

It isn’t good to encourage Luo Binghe that ‘in the same room’ is close enough, though. ‘In the same room’ could quickly become ‘in the adjacent room,’ which could become ‘in the same wing of the palace.’

Shen Yuan has no intention of letting Luo Binghe off his leash so easily.

“It’s lonely without someone close,” Shen Yuan lies. “If you know you can’t be with me, can’t you at least warn me so that I can call for someone else to chat with me?”

Luo Binghe’s weight on Shen Yuan increases, his arms no longer hanging over Shen Yuan lazily and instead curling to grip tightly at whatever parts of Shen Yuan they can reach. Shen Yuan shifts, acting as if Luo Binghe’s stickiness is burdensome, and Luo Binghe’s grip turns harsher, not giving Shen Yuan any room to wiggle out of it.

As always, Luo Binghe’s possessiveness is the easiest string to pull. 

“I’ll stick closer to Yuan-er in the future,” Luo Binghe promises. 

“Good,” Shen Yuan says. He turns his attention back to the fire. “For now, though, I just wanted to ask if you knew what happened to my cane?”

“Something happened to Yuan-er’s cane?” Luo Binghe asks, concerned. One of his hands trails down Shen Yuan’s arm to rest on top of the hand Shen Yuan has on his cane, as if to check.

It would surely be a convincing act to anyone who didn’t know Luo Binghe as well. Shen Yuan can not be fooled so easily. Luo Binghe’s claws are not extended, and his breath didn’t hitch at the idea of someone vandalizing something of Shen Yuan’s. 

As Shen Yuan expected, it must really have been Luo Binghe who cut this piece of his cane off.

“Mm,” Shen Yuan says, pretending not to know the truth. “It’s shorter than it’s supposed to be. It makes it harder to walk.”

“If Yuan-er is having trouble walking, then he shouldn’t walk at all!” Luo Binghe cries. He does not seem concerned about who or what could have caused Shen Yuan’s cane to shorten.

Shen Yuan nods. That’s fine. He doesn’t mind this outcome; it’s easy to twist in his own favor.

“It might be best for me to stay in our bedroom, for now,” he agrees. “But…”

Luo Binghe’s hand goes tight over Shen Yuan’s, his claws digging into Shen Yuan’s fingers. “Is there something wrong with staying there for a while?”

Naturally, the time period that Luo Binghe is really thinking of is much longer than ‘a while.’ Luo Binghe has been trying to lock Shen Yuan up somewhere safe and away from everyone else for as long as Shen Yuan has been in this world.

Shen Yuan knows this because he’s the one who carefully engineered it that way.

He knows this because he’s the one who decided that this would be the easiest way to lock Luo Binghe up somewhere safe and away from everyone else.

It isn’t that Shen Yuan doesn’t think Luo Binghe can take care of himself! On the contrary, no one is more aware of Luo Binghe’s martial prowess than Shen Yuan. Nothing in this world can hurt Luo Binghe in a meaningful way - not now that Luo Binghe has reached this stage of his life past all his training and suffering - because this world was written around him. 

Shen Yuan isn’t concerned about Luo Binghe’s safety in the traditional sense, though. 

The world was written around Luo Binghe, and so naturally everyone who lays eyes on him can see how brilliant he is, how beautiful. Everyone who sees Luo Binghe wants them for themselves, and far, far too many of those people are bold enough to dare try and take him.

Women that lose all sense of reason when they see him, women that lose all their clothes when they are near him, women that lose their virginity when they are seduced by him -!

If all the stupid, useless, would-be wives in this world can’t help losing pieces of themselves to Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan thinks viciously, then it’s for the best if Luo Binghe isn’t around them to begin with.

These women are everywhere, though, in every corner of the combined realms and every hallway of Luo Binghe’s own palace. Luo Binghe could simply be going down to the kitchens and encounter two handfuls of needy, whiney women on his way there, ready to waste Luo Binghe’s time with their miserable attempts at seduction. 

Shen Yuan won’t allow Luo Binghe’s time to be wasted any more, not now that he’s here instead of just reading about it. He won’t allow Luo Binghe to lay with any more women who may give him a nasty disease, or who may burden him with a child, or - worst of all - who may pretend to care for Luo Binghe while knowing nothing substantial about him.

Shen Yuan knows Luo Binghe, though. He knows Luo Binghe best. Luo Binghe is safest with him, most loved with him, and it’s really only responsible of Shen Yuan to make sure that Luo Binghe doesn’t stray from this green pasture.

Shen Yuan doesn’t have the strength to overpower Luo Binghe, though, nor the tools to trap him. If he’s to keep Luo Binghe in one spot away from all those nasty parasites, he’ll have to make Luo Binghe want to stay put. 

“It’s not that it would be difficult to stay in our rooms,” Shen Yuan says. “It’s only that I don’t think I can be left alone there. If I can’t walk without assistance, then I’ll need help with normal day-to-day stuff, too.”

“If it’s to help Yuan-er, I can do anything he needs,” Luo Binghe says instantly.

Shen Yuan hums again. No, he decides, he’s not deep enough in it, yet.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that…” Shen Yuan demures. “It’s - I mean think about it, Binghe, it wouldn’t just be helping me to change or helping me move from the bed to the couch. I’d need help with things like going to the bathroom, too, which is just - no, it’s too much.”

Luo Binghe shudders, and Shen Yuan feels the movement of it resonate through his whole body. No doubt Luo Binghe was just picturing what it would be like, to have Shen Yuan so thoroughly dependent on him that Shen Yuan even needed to be held through the process of taking a piss. How did he imagine it, Shen Yuan wonders - did he just think about helping Shen Yuan to the chamber pot? Or did he imagine pushing Shen Yuan’s robes apart and taking hold of him, and of being the one to clean Shen Yuan after? 

Naturally, the later vision wouldn’t be necessary. Shen Yuan has a limp, not full body paralysis. Even suggesting that he needs constant assistance to stay in one room is a stretch.

He doesn’t mind keeping the leash tighter than it needs to be, though. If it’s the vision that Luo Binghe prefers, Shen Yuan will act it out with him, if only to get Luo Binghe to stay safely in his room without leaving.

“I can do that for Yuan-er,” Luo Binghe insists. His voice is rougher than it had been just a moment ago.

“Then,” Shen Yuan says, satisfied, “we’d best return to our rooms, and send a letter to your court that we won’t be leaving.”

Luo Binghe shudders again, holds Shen Yuan tight for a moment longer, and obeys.

[wintersera]

Can you make a fic about vampire!karina? Her fangs in supernova mv got me dizzy😵‍💫

not so much of a fic but maybe a short little imagine/drabble thingy? cause yk yuh eslayyy

tw: blood 😰

anyways she looks like a little brat here it’s actually driving me a little insane CAUSE HOW DOES SHE LOOK SO CUTE WHEN SHES WREAKING HAVOC IN THE STREETS (and in the sheets ifykwim)😭

the typa vampire girlie to be so desperate to feed on reader bc shes so pretty and shes so so hungry ;;

lets say one day you woke up in the middle of the damn night, had a singular thought- the thought being explore the forest, at what? 2am. what a great idea 😭

so you prepared essentials in a backpack; some food, water bottle, a torch, lighter, batteries and thats about it.

you weren’t too big of a believer in the supernatural, you thought the concept of it was cool yk, warewolves and vampires- all that interesting stuff that you’d see in movies and books. obviously all that stuff was fake, so really, coming across a vampire wasn’t on your list of ‘what to do and encounter at a forest’. and now you’re aimlessly wondering around in the butt fuck of nowhere ignoring the obvious signs as to why your ass should NAWT be in the fucksss forest at this ungodly hour. you could’ve chosen any other time but naaurrr,,,

anyways, as you were strolling around without a care in the world, you heard the snap of a twig and something rustling around in the bushes. it could be a bear, or a man… the idea of that was worse by tenfold.

was the right option run back home and go back to sleep, yes! did you do it? NO, you know what you did? move towards the bushes… any reasoning? “what if its a cat? the cat distribution system could be in my favour today” :]

WRONG.

out from the bushes came a pretty tall girl. she bared her teeth at you, a clear warning so you could back up before anything bad happened. yet you stood there observing her instead. ngl you were pretty terrified none the less, pretty girl with sharp fangs that could rip through your skin. you were convinced she wasn’t real, maybe she was a hallucination??? idk bro maybe you were on shrooms or something.

“what are you doing here all alone in the woods pretty girl?”

tbh you were pretty shocked to the point of not being able to talk, so you stood there.

“aww too scared to speak? that’s okay, come with me” she grabbed your hand, grip pretty tight since she didn’t know how strong she really was. now all of a sudden you’re in an empty cabin log “dont be alarmed but… im hungry- can i get a bite? just a little. i promise i’ll only drink a little” you thought this was a big ass lie but let her bite you :( she’s so hungry.

her sharp fangs pierce into your neck, moaning at how good you taste. she couldn’t help but to embrace you as she was savouring your blood. the pain only lasted for a mere second before your body was engulfed in warmth, you thought that maybe you were gonna pass out but you were fine. i guess she figured out how nervous you were, your body tense and everything?!?2)2! she pulled back “i’m sorry did it hurt too much? it’s okay i can make it feel better” kissing your neck and whispering how happy you made her “i’ll return the favour” trailing bloody kisses from your neck down, to your collarbone and further down. ngl you thought it was pretty hot at how messy and how inexperienced she was at this. her hands would be all over you at first, on your tits mostly playing with them through you clothes “feel any good…? c-can i still taste you?” you nod hesitantly, but it did feel good though!

maybe because you were her first victim, she didn’t know what in the hells she was doing :,( obviously as a new vampire spawn she was trying her very best to make you feel good after she fed off of you. ripping your clothes off with ease, she wasted no time :] she made sure that every inch or your body felt good— leaving bloody stains wherver she kissed you, yes shes a messy eater 😭 the blood is all over her mouth leave her be-

after a long time of being kissed and having your boobs played with, she finally takes off your panties- soaked ofc! and blushes at you, looking up with her darkened puppy eyes,, awww how cute ;; you give her a slow nod and she just goes for it. so desperate and needy to make you feel good, she wouldn’t be lying if biting you made her so turned on. she fr eats you out like you were her last ever meal on earth 😊 like she gets so pussy drunk, lapping up all your juices, sucking and licking your clit so harshly earning a whimper from you.

she just thinks you taste so good,, your blood, your pussy? her heads spinning from your scent,, ouh girl she’s feeling dizzy, but that only drives her more insane. gripping onto your thighs, digging her nails into them. she wants more- moaning loudly as she continues to eat you out vigorously, her tongue circling around your clit so fast that it brings you to tears- are you sure she’s inexperienced bc this feels way too good “mmmhf is.. is this good? does your pussy feel good pretty girl?” that sentence alone brings you towards your climax- thighs squeezing together, essentially trapping her inbetween your legs 🫣🫣

so know if you’re ever feeling bored, you’d know where to go to find a certain specific desperate vampire waiting for you in the log cabins at 3am 🤩

IGNORE IF I MADE ANY MISTAKES PLEEKKKK 🙏🙏🙏🙏

[shina913]

Breakfast (Part 2) | KMG

Breakfast, Part 2

Pairing: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: Established relationship; domestic au; smut; little fluff

Warnings: porn with a tiny bit of plot; cussing; fingering; penetrative sex; unprotected sex in a committed, monogamous relationship

Word count: 1.8K words

Summary: Mingyu has to leave for work but gets sidetracked.

A/N: This is a sequel to this initial story but you don't need to read it before diving into this. The first part just provides a little context. Anyway, this is nothing but horny word vomit and I blame Mingyu. Please send your complaints to him. Kthxbye.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

You smelled the coffee before opening your eyes. “I’m going to kick your ass if it’s not at least 7:30AM.”

You just returned from a long holiday week, spending time with each other's families. You decided to fly back a day early so you could both recharge before going back to work. That included sleeping in.

Mingyu’s boyish laugh was enough to make your toes curl. “Close enough,” he replies.

You opened one eye, then the other. As your vision clears, you are greeted by the sight of him, crouched by your bed, dressed in his suit. He looked so delectable in it.

Since your less-than-ideal chance meeting the morning after your respective one-night stands, you have gone on a few dates and discovered that you enjoyed each other's company, with and without clothes.

He rises from the floor and then settles on the edge of the bed, looking apologetic. “I got a call this morning and they need me to come in today. I wanted to let you know that I made you breakfast before I headed out.”

Cooking was his way of apologizing for spoiling your day off together. You didn't really have anything specific planned, except you wanted to reclaim some quiet time that you missed while your family was around.

You sit up and lean against the headboard while Mingyu hands the mug to you. His eyes are fixed on your cleavage, barely covered by a worn-in tank top that you had on.

“Points for the bedside caffeine.” You accept the mug, blowing on the piping hot beverage before taking a cursory sip.

“So sexy,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over your hardened nipple through the thin material.

His touch sends a shiver down your spine but you cheekily swat his hand away. “Hey, don’t distract me. I thought we were supposed to have our day today,” you frowned.

“On the contrary, I think you’re distracting me. Very effectively, in fact.”

You eye him in his suit, then hum in agreement. “I know the feeling. Anyway, do you have to go in? Can’t you log in from home?”

He sighs softly before explaining why he has to go into the office. “A couple of projects need some senior staff oversight. It’s just a couple of meetings, then I’ll come right back in time for lunch. I promise!” He plants a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and gives you his cute, puppy-eye look.

How could anybody resist that? Your face visibly relaxes, quelling your annoyance.

You take another sip of your coffee and gaze at him appreciatively. "Have I told you how much I love seeing you in a suit?”

His suit was bespoke, and his shirt and tie were perfectly coordinated. While most suits simply enhanced a man's appearance, Mingyu took it to another level that could be considered illegal.

“Yes, you tell me all the time,” he purrs.

You lean in and run your fingers over his tie. “Is this new?”

His eyes track the motion of your hands. “It is. Why?”

"Feels nice. I can't keep my hands off it." Thoughts of him wrapping it around your wrists come to mind, causing you to squeeze your thighs together. You hoped you were discreet enough that he wouldn't notice the movement under the sheets.

The faint twitch in the corner of his mouth and his raised eyebrow indicated otherwise.

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

You bat your eyes at him innocently. “I’m just…admiring the tie, that’s all.” You release it then smooth it over his chest.

He takes a beat, then stands up and takes your mug, placing it on the nightstand. Next, he catches the edge of the sheet and tosses it aside in one smooth motion.

“Lie down, spread your legs.”

You obey, pulse quickening as you slide down to your back. You had to admit that your state of undress compared to his being fully clothed—especially in one of his sexy suits—was wildly exciting. It created this power advantage for him that was a serious turn-on for you.

“Are you wet?” His tone was dark and dangerous. It excited you.

“Why don’t you find out?” You teased.

His jaw ticks, and he narrows his eyes at you. Whenever Mingyu looked at you like that, you grew more eager by the second. He hooks his finger on the waistband of your panties and starts pulling them down. You raise your hips slightly to assist him in removing them.

Once you were exposed for him, you allow your thighs to fall open. He strokes a finger through your folds, gliding gently over your clit.

“Getting there.” Cupping you in his palm, he met your gaze. “We should rectify that.”

You knew he had important business to attend to and it would be irresponsible of you to make him late for work. But he knew that whenever you were needy for him, he would prefer to take care of you first.

“W-what about your meetings?” You shivered as the tip of his finger circled your opening, teasing you further.

“They’re cutting my vacation short. I can afford to show up a few minutes late.” Eyes glittering, he slid a finger ever-so-slowly inside you, making you sigh and your eyelids flutter.

“Hmm...” you crooned.

“You like that?”

Something about his gentle ministrations left you speechless for a moment.

He added another finger and went deeper, making your muscles clench in response while heat swept over your skin.

Bending over you, Mingyu lowers his lips to yours. While you enjoyed his mouth between your legs, kissing him like this gave you just as much pleasure. You moan against his kisses while his fingers massage you inside and out.

The pleasure of his touch sends goosebumps racing up your arms. You pull your shirt up to your chin, clutch your breasts in your hands, squeezing and pulling on your nipples.

He lifts his head and takes a glance at you. “You look so fucking hot right now.”

Shamelessly, your body writhed as you rode his plunging fingers.

His mouth slides over to your jawline, then moves to your chest, nudging your hands aside with the tip of his nose. He bites down gently on a nipple before wrapping his lips around it, suckling softly.

“Ahh…more,” you gasped.

“I know, baby,” he murmured as he smiled against your skin.

“Please, I want your cock in me,” you begged.

“Need to make you cum this way first.” His tongue curled around your other nipple, flickering teasingly over it.

You’re dizzy with arousal but mildly aware that his fingers stop moving in and out of you. After working you into a frenzy, he begins to apply soft but steady pressure against the roof of your core. His efforts give you that all-too-familiar tingling buildup within you, making your belly tense up in anticipation of what’s about to happen.

“F-fuck, yes…yes, right there! Don’t stop,” you choked out. He obeys and concentrates on the spot you’ve directed him to. Everything in you tenses like a coiled spring until you find yourself teetering over the edge.

“I’m…c-cum—“

With one definitive curl of his fingers, your thighs quiver before you feel a warmth rush out of you, dripping into his palm. You let out a long, stuttered moan while he continued to massage your flesh, intent on coaxing all the pleasure out of you. Your hands grip on his shoulder until your climax eases.

“Atta girl,” he smiled. 

You open your eyes and your gaze wanders over to the bulge in his pants. "We should take care of that. Can't have you walking into the office in that state.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Whatever you want.” You bite down on your lip and palm him through his pants. He would love to fuck your mouth, but not when he’s in a rush. His thoughts are interrupted by his watch buzzing. He briefly checks the screen before turning his attention back to you.

“But if we don’t have time…”

“Get on all fours, now,” he ordered.

“Are you sure—”

“Now.” He says more firmly.

You scramble and shift on the mattress to get into position, ass up in mid-air for him. His hands steady your hips, angling you just right to make you both feel good. His fingers graze the tender flesh between your legs, checking if you were still wet from your orgasm—which you were.

Not long after, you feel the delicious stretch in your center.

You both let out gruff sounds of pleasure when he pushes into you. He pulls out just a little, then slides back in slowly. You press your face deep into the mattress, relishing the feeling of his cock massaging the bundle of nerves deep within.

Finding his rhythm, he fucks into you, thrusting in a steady pace. You claw at the sheets, moaning helplessly.

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

Your legs shook on a particularly deep downstroke. There was nothing else you could do but take whatever he gave you: the rhythmic slide and pull, coupled with the sounds of his hunger that escaped his lips. The scrape of his pants against your thighs told you he had pushed them down only far enough to free his cock, a sign of impatience that turned you on wildly.

One of his hands left your hip, moving to your front to rub circles over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you cry out while writhing in his grip. Over and over, he plunged into you repeatedly until your body hit its limit.

You came with a scream, quivering as your orgasm took over your senses.

His thrusts turn harder, raw grunts and moans spilling from him while you offer no resistance as he chases his own climax.

You feel his thighs slam against yours, then he shudders. His neck arches and he gasps your name. His face twists in agonized pleasure, eyes losing focus as he emptied himself into you.

He pulls out of you gingerly and you both collapse side-by-side onto the mattress.

“Let me just say,” he pants, “this was not what I had in mind when I brought you coffee.” He presses a quick kiss to your slicked forehead. “Not that I’m complaining.”

You giggle and curl into him while he wraps an arm around you in response. You catch a glimpse of the time from his watch. “Shit. Now you’re super late,” you grimace. “I’m sorry.”

He laughs huskily. “I’m not! I got an email alert saying that the client rescheduled the meeting and pushed the deadline back.”

You scrunch your face in confusion. As far as you’re concerned, you were both busy fooling around for the last half hour. “When did you get that email?” 

“Right before I told you to get on all fours,” he says mischievously.

And now, you realize that you vaguely remember him glancing at his watch before he fucked your brains out.

“I’m off the hook! So we can have our day after all,” he beams.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Is there anything you want to do? I mean, you know, after we get cleaned up?” He chuckles.

You pause to think. After a few seconds, you declare, “Definitely–breakfast first! I worked up an appetite after all that.”

He guffaws at your response. “That’s my girl!”

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @roaminginthenights; @midnightagust ; @btsgotjams27

[spookitapes]

jschlatt nsfw visuals part l

summary | porn i associate with jschlatt bc i’m a whore for him

pairing | jschlatt x fem!reader (kinda ft. chuckle sandwich & friends)

warnings/cw | porn, smut, choking, slapping, spanking, daddy kink, getting caught by your friends, rough sex, edging, public sex, fucking in someone else’s bed, degradation, praise, humiliation, orgasm ban, anal, overstimulation, drunk/high sex (with consent), car sex

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

!! you need to log in to twitter to see the vids from there !!

not proofread, sorry for any mistakes !!

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────

quickies

❧ “such a slut for me, aren’tcha sweetheart? yeah, you’re so goddamn easy for me.”

❧ fucks you like he HATES you during quickies…especially if you were being a brat or teasing him beforehand

❧ he’s going all out for the short amount of time given..give him 5 minutes or 5 hours he’s gonna have your legs shaking by the end of it.

❧ that man is gonna choke you, slap you, spit in your mouth, and still have time to fuck your throat with his dick that’s covered in your cum.

in an unlocked room of a nye party

❧ you did not see yourself ending up here…on some dude’s bed at a nye streamer party your boyfriend invited you to

❧ but schlatt doesn’t tolerate disrespect well. so when the host’s roommate started flirting with you as soon as he disappeared to get you two drinks…you knew he ur pussy was done

❧ he watched in amusement as you tried to let him down easy at first, but when he started calling you a bitch and grabbing at you it took schlatt all of three seconds to be between you two

❧ his fist clenched the man’s collar as you tried to calm him down

❧ “baby it’s okay- i’m okay!”

❧ “he’s not worth it, jonny!”

❧ “b-baby please just let it go!”

❧ he dropped eye contact with the man when he felt your nails digging into his shoulder

❧ he knew he had to push him away when he saw the worried look on your face— tears threatening your waterline

❧ but big guy’s gotta get his frustrations out somehow, and he knows the perfect way to get revenge and make you feel better

❧ so with a sigh, he releases the douchebag’s shirt with a shove and grabs your hand to lead you upstairs

❧ “yeah i bet you like gettin fucked on this prick’s bed knowing he could walk in at anytime, huh? like knowing the closest that bastard’s ever gonna get to this pussy is the fucking stain on his sheets.”

❧ you’re praying to the almighty man himself that jonny doesn’t notice the way your stomach twists up with the flames of an orgasm building..

❧ but god’s not listening and he’s laughing along with your boyfriend..who’s grinning down at you as he leans in to your ear

❧ “oh i felt that, sweetheart. felt this slutty pussy tighten up on me when i said that. knew you were nasty— but fuuuuuccck.”

❧ he’s g r o w l i n g his words out at this points

❧ teeth pulling on your earlobe followed by his hot breath fanning against it

❧ “m’gonna make you squirt all over this fucking comforter, doll. leave him a gift to push his face into as he jerks his sorry excuse of a dick off.”

❧ safe to say you two left a wet spot the size of russia and a lasting impression on twitter.

(bonus)

❧ “and to think you kept whining about some dumb kiss…shoulda known i always go above and beyond for my girl.”

giving you a punishment one two three

❧ “count or im startin over, understand?”

❧ don’t even think out nodding your head..

❧ cause he’ll put his fingers in your hair and yank your head back to meet his eyes as his other hand lands the first smack on your ass

❧ “use your goddamn words..you know better than that, angel.”

❧ “y-yes sir!! i understand! i’m sorry won’t happen again..i’ll listen— promise !!” comes tumbling out in a high pitched whine

❧ “ya better or you’re not cumming at all. gonna bruise this ass and leave ya all messy and unsatisfied like a whore. you want that, y/n ?”

❧ as hot as that sounds you definitely don’t want that..too horny and too pent up to be able to breathe without cumming

❧ so you fall into submission easily, counting out each spank he gives you

❧ thanking him profusely after he’s satisfied enough to slide his big fingers into your cunt

❧ “don’t thank me yet, i still haven’t decided to let you cum.”

❧ he can sense the frown spreading across your face at the whine you let out, so he picks up the pace of finger fucking you

❧ his unoccupied hand returning to giving you more harsh slaps across the ass

❧ “drop the attitude, toots or m’not gonna let you cum. just gotta keep being a good girl for me, can ya do that? can ya reach back here and give daddy a kiss?”

❧ so you gather all your strength as you strain your upper half to face him, tears falling down your cheeks as you reach for his lips

❧ it’s anything but what you’re expecting— slow and passionate. full of the love and softness as he batters your pussy and let’s you moan into his mouth

❧ “such a fucking good girl for me, knew you were in there somewhere. my pretty doll just needed to be reminded of her place, huh? fuck your self back on— thaaaat’s it.”

❧ but every time you’re about to cum he’s pulling his fingers out and spanking your pussy

❧ the frustration builds as you thrash around

❧ whining that “s’not fuckin fair!”

❧ “keep strugglin and i’ll really give you something to cry about.”

❧ his harsh tone makes you come to a halt, eyes red & legs shaking from being pulled back from the edge so many times

❧ and as soon as you still and meet his gaze he’s bullying his digits back into your sore pussy again

(bonus)

❧ “go ahead and cum for me, baby. been so good— yeah, cream all over my fingers…goooood fuckin girl.”

❧ sometimes instead of edging you jonny gives you exactly what you want…he’ll let you cum and he’s not gonna stop till you can’t cum anymore.

❧ “keep on fucking whining like you didn’t ask for this, y/n.”

❧ your chest is pressed against his and he’s got a death grip on your waist

❧ the only sound in the room is your loud cries and the sloppy fucking of his fingers into you

❧ your ass high in the air as he drills your pussy, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your tired body

❧ “keep still-stop goddamn squirmin!”

❧ it’s barked into your ear, chops scratching your skin as he roughly grabs your jaw and forces your eyes to meet

❧ “i swear to god if keep moving i’ll strap the hitachi to your clit and leave you here all night.”

❧ before you can respond he’s setting a lightening quick pace, pussy spasming round him once again

❧ “fuuuck give it to me, darlin. you can keep going, come on and show me how good this pussy cums for me.”

❧ he only does it as an end to an orgasm ban (when you break a rule so he doesn’t let you cum for a certain amount of time..not even by yourself)

❧ you have to seriously piss schlatt off for him to ban you (he loves your pussy too much)

❧ but when he does…

❧ he’s not touching your pussy at all

❧ not gonna let you touch it either

❧ not even allowed to have your clit played with when it’s a punishment fuck

❧ you have to get off from the anal alone and if you don’t…that’s not his problem lmao

❧ maybe next time you’ll listen and behave for him…

❧ till then he’s using your ass as a fleshlight and lettin your week-long neglected pussy leak out so much it covers your thighs & all of his lower half

(bonus)

❧ “oh goddamn it, babydoll. didn’t know i could get you to squirt without even touching your pussy..imma have to do it again.”

late night car shenanigans one two

❧ it started off so innocent 🥲

❧ jonny asking if you wanted to ride around and listen to music with him at 3 am

❧ it’s a usual thing you two do together when you couldn’t sleep so you didn’t think much of it

❧ so you slipped on a tank top & a cardigan with a cute new mini skirt to match

❧ little did you know that skirt is your boyfriend’s new found kryptonite

❧ so now the skirt’s bunched around your waist

❧ your back’s pressed half against the door half against the passenger seat with your boyfriend’s fingers deep inside your pussy as he speeds down the interstate

❧ the loud bass that’s usually filled the car is silent

❧ schlatt wants to be sure he can hear his favorite symphony— your noises accompanied by the sounds of your wet pussy

(bonus)

❧ “whatcha want to eat, love? i know cumming like that had to make you work up an appetite.”

❧ “don’t worry about me i’ll eat my favorite meal at home. it’s hot and ready whenever i want.” (yes he’d make a little caesar’s joke about ur coochie tell me i’m wrong)

❧ camping with chuckle sandwich seemed like a good idea

❧ till you were drunk in the woods and only 10 feet away from your friends in tents

❧ “j-jonny we can’t..not with them right there.”

❧ “come on doll, they won’t even notice.”

❧ “you and i both know i can’t stay quiet enough for that..baby please.”

❧ as tipsy as he is he knows you’re right..so he sneaks you two out of the tent

❧ he grabs two new beers and leads you back to the parking lot of the forrest

❧ once you’re in the car it’s game over

❧ you’re both insatiable as you make out on his lap

❧ in your drunken kiss you knock the sun visor down and a pre-rolled blunt falls between you two on your laps

❧ you bite your lip as you look between the blunt and your boyfriend..hoping he catches your drift

❧ he catches that shit.

❧ so now your getting railed in the passenger seat as schlatt leans over you and shotguns the smoke into your mouth

❧ the feeling of being cross faded adds so much to being fucked

❧ you’re so sensitive it’s insane

❧ schlatt swears he’s never heard you making these types of noises before

❧ doesn’t even care about the carpet burn that’s starting to form on his knees

❧ the feeling of being crossed and inside of you is enough to make him speed up is thrusts

❧ you’re so lost in each other you don’t realize the sun starting to rise

❧ so lost in the sauce jonny just turns his phone off to stop it from ringing (he doesn’t even check to see who it is RIP)

❧ or hear the footsteps and calls of your names nearing the parking lot

❧ or when your friends finally knock on the car door they’re met with a porn star level performance from you both

❧ you’ll blame it on the substances later because right now nothing is gonna stop you both from covering the seat in another load of your almost future children

(bonus)

❧ “do you think they know?”

❧ schlatt gives you a small smile and kiss to the forehead

❧ “of course not, doll”

❧ you settle at the news, anxiety leaving your body

❧ “we DEFINITELY know.”

[fantasyandshit]

The light and the dark

Type: series

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron sister reader

Part: 1/?

Other parts here

Summary: Yn is the youngest of the four Archeron sisters, growing up life was rough her and her family always made it.

(A/n, it’s been a minute since I read the series, especially first few so timeline might be slightly off.)

“Yn?” I hear Feyres voice call as she nears the shack we call a house, nose red from the cold and limping slightly as she carries the deer atop her shoulder. I make my way over quickly, taking the dear from her shoulder and slinging it across my own much to her protest and heading inside. “I thought Nesta was supposed to be chopping wood?”

I set the deer down with a thump, “when I got back it wasn’t done, figured rather than fight and get nowhere, I might as well do it myself.” I shuffle around the small kitchen, taking a knife from the counter and moving back to the animal.

“Yn.” I stop and turn to my sister with an eyebrow raised. “Please go have Elain fix you up or something? You have dried blood across your face and who knows what’s hiding under your clothing. Seriously how many times have I told you to rest after the fight rings?”

A humorless chuckle leaves my cracked lips as I lick them before turning back to the table and begin slicing the meat. “I’m fine Feyre. I promise, I’ll clean myself up later. You on the other hand need to go sit, there should still be wood near the fireplace, if not, tell me and I’ll go grab some of the logs I just chopped.”

Feyre sighs before going to join the rest of the family by the hearth, knowing she won’t win in this debate.

———

Later, I’m carving at meat when the door is blown off its hinges and a beast stomps into the room- a fae. Immediately the knife in my hand is pointed its direction and I’m in front of my family, however gets a knife of her own and is by my side.

“Who killed the wolf.”

I’m stunned before it repeats itself, “who killed the wolf.”

Several moments go by, before I speak out. “I did.” At the same time of Feyre and I see the beast turning towards her- it knows. Before I can properly think, I charge at the beast, knife landing in its leg before it bats at my face, throwing me to the wall. “No!” I hear Feyre call before all goes black.

———

I wake up in a carriage, Nesta and Elain in front of me. There’s a pain in my face, back, legs, ribs- everywhere. “What’s-what’s going on?” I try to push myself to sit up but am pushed back down by Elain. “Where’s Feyre.”

I’m fuming by the time Nesta explains, “you let her leave! Just like that! You let her leave! Are you mental!”

“Yn please calm do-“

I point my finger to my sister “No! No Elain I will not calm down! Your two let Feyre leave with that beast!”

“You do not speak to her like that.” Nesta growls, one of her deadly glares directed my way.

“Do not- You’re mad for how I spoke to Elain? Feyre is gone! Gone! What if it was Elain? Would you care then? Oh precious Elain can’t go but Feyre- oh no one cares about Feyre!” My voice raises as I glare back at my eldest sister.

“You keep your mouth shut.”

“No! Fuck both of you! I’m going to find Feyre.” I climb from the stable carriage only to see we’re at a manner, bigger than our past one but I don’t care. I need to find my sister.

———

I know it isn’t much and there isn’t any Az yet but trust he will be here soon. Love y’all.

[unformula1]

you’ll stay? (LS2 x OP81)

logan’s life is hard but he’s got oscar. w/c: 651 day 29 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium (series masterlist) masterlist

Logan has never felt more alone. He sits on his bed, the cold embrace of his blanket enveloping him. His tears slowly flow out, tracing his cheekbones, clinging onto his chin before falling onto the bed. His head is tucked between his two knees, soft sobs echo in his hotel room. 

He’s alone. 

A knock on his door forces Logan to sit up and wipe his tears off. As he walks toward the door, he checks the mirror, cleaning off any trace of him crying from his face. Logan takes a deep breath and puts on a smile.

He opens the door and comes face to face with Oscar.

“Hi Logs.” Oscar waves, he’s holding a bag.

“Hi Oscar.” Logan says after clearing out his throat, his voice comes out more hoarse than expected.

“I didn’t see you at the party. Alex was there!” Oscar says.

The party. Logan forgot if he got invited but he wasn’t planning on going anyway.

“I crashed.” Logan deadpans, “I’m not gonna go to a party.”

“Yea… my bad.” Oscar says before he lifts up the bag, “I brought some pastries, my grandmother made them. Thought you might be hungry.”

Logan stares blankly before taking the bag from Oscar, “Thank you.”

“Mind if I come in?” Oscar asks.

Logan looks back into his room and hesitates.

“I mean if you don’t want me to then I won’t…” Oscar’s voice trails off.

“Come in.” Logan says.

“Oh. Cool!” Oscar walks into the room and takes a seat on one of the chairs.

Logan closes the door and places the bag on the table before sitting down opposite Oscar on the edge of the bed.

“How have you been?” Oscar asks, then instantly regrets it, “Sorry, stupid question.”

“It’s okay.” Logan says, he doesn’t exactly want to converse right now, he sort of just wants to cry.

“So… life’s rough?” Oscar says, “Sorry. Stupid again, I’m not very good at this whole… conversing thing.” 

“It’s fine.” Logan says.

“Do you want me to help you with… anything? You could talk to me right now.” Oscar says.

Logan sighs, “I just need to cry right now.” He says before flopping back first onto his bed.

“Oh… are you okay if I stay?” 

Logan nods, not sure if Oscar could see but Oscar stayed where he was, so Logan assumed he saw the nod.

“If you want me to leave anytime just tell me.” Oscar says before sitting next to where Logan was lying down.

Logan usually would never cry in the presence of someone else, he had a facade to keep up. However, right now, Logan couldn’t care less.

When he crashed, the only faces he saw were disappointed ones. They only got more disappointed in him when Alex scored points. All of them shot Logan with wary eyes. Alex was disappointed in him. James was disappointed in him. All of them were.

He tried his best, he really did everything he could to get better but nothing paid off. His dreams were like flashing before his very eyes.

Logan stares into the ceiling.

“Are you disappointed in me?” Logan asks.

Oscar shakes his head, “No. I would never be.”

Logan lets out a soft scoff, “Sure…”

“Hey! I would never be disappointed in you.” Oscar says, patting Logan’s thigh, “I’m always proud of you.”

“I literally crashed today.” Logan says.

“Everyone makes mistakes.” Oscar shrugs.

“Clearly I make more than others.” Logan scoffs, mostly at himself.

“Well, I believe in you then, I believe that you’ll get better.” Oscar says.

Logan lets out another scoff disguised as a chuckle.

“Yea…right…” Logan says, as he feels his tears slowly filling his eyes.

“Shut up mate.” Oscar says, “You’re an amazing driver, you will get better.”

Logan smiles slightly but the tears continue to flow.

“I’ll stay with you, every step of the way. Okay.”

“Promise you’ll stay?”

“Promise.”

[wildflowerluver]

cherry

steve harrington x fem!reader

steve has a habit of ordering your opposite

cw: eating/food, she/her pronouns, steve is so in love, reader struggles making decisions, one slight nsfw comment 

wc: 1.1k

༺♡༻

hawkins summers are brutal.

being a landlocked state meant no access to an ocean, otherwise known as the best place to cool off.

steve made sure the two of you avoided lover’s lake like the plague too.

it was crowded, murky, and filled with far too many people that steve would be okay with never seeing again. 

you and steve find time together whenever you can. his pool is usually occupied by the party during the day and occasionally the night but with him working at family video and you at the record store, days are often spent dealing with nagging customers instead of each other.

steve calls you while you’re at work. you know he is too, probably bored out of his mind from organizing movies.

both you and him are very grateful neither of your bosses check the phone log. either of you would without a doubt be questioned on the multitudes of calls between family video and jason lee’s music store.

“hey,” he greets. “got any plans for tonight?”

you twirl the phone cord around your finger. “i was hoping my boyfriend was available to hang out but he hasn’t asked me. so i mean i guess i’m free.”

no matter the length you and steve have been dating, the shameless flirting and honeymoon stage hasn’t seemed to waver.

“well if he hasn’t asked you then i guess it’s my time to shine,” he started. “what time do you get off?”

“six ‘clock,” you answer.

“i’ll pick you up then.” he doesn’t explain your plans but you don’t mind. being with steve is enough.

“it’s a date,” you confirm.

you faintly hear the bell chime in the background on his end.

“alright i gotta get going, new wave of customers,” steve groans. “i’ll see you soon, though. i love you!”

you blush. “i love you too.”

___

you’re out the door at 6:01, the extra minute needed for clocking out and collecting your things.

just like he promised, steve is waiting in the parking lot. he’s out of the car, leaning against the hood with his arms crossed. 

you falter for a moment at his appearance. he’s shed his family video vest, leaving him in just a white t-shirt with two stripes and jeans, specifically the ones that hug his thighs perfectly.

“hi baby,” steve greets. his arms circle around you, pulling you into him as he sighs. “feels like i haven’t seen you in forever.”

you giggle. “i saw you yesterday.” 

he shakes his head. “too long.”

the convenience store is right down the road from where you work. steve holds your hand as you walk in, dragging you through the aisles until you get to the back as you laugh. 

the slurpee machine is thankfully working though you were sure if it wasn’t, you would’ve heard about it. it once went down during memorial day weekend and every customer that came into your work complained about it. it was brutal.

steve leaves you in the back, letting you know he’s going to grab some other snacks and will be back in a few moments.

you look towards the slurpee machine, head tilting slightly as you watch the drink rotate throughout the barrel.

a hand snaking around your waist snaps you out of your trance. 

“what flavor are you going to get, baby?” 

he’s pressed so close to you, whispering the question like it’s the most important secret in the world. you know if you call him out on his special awareness, he’ll claim that ‘this is the one time it’s cool enough in public for me to hold you.’ you don’t mind. steve’s your boy, the closeness is nice. 

“i dunno,” you mumble. small decisions like this stress you out.

his hand around you squeezes your hip. silent reassurance.

it takes a few moments for you to pick. both look good and you take your time clicking your tongue to imagine what flavor you taste.

“cherry,” you finally decide, pointing to the side with the red slush.

“good choice,” he compliments.

steve kisses your forehead before stepping forward. like the gentleman he is, he grabs two cups, larges, and fills them up; one cherry and one blue raspberry.

he pays too and you pout. “i wanted to treat you.”

“next time,” steve promises, pressing his lips quickly to yours.

you know he’s lying. 

you settle back into the passenger's seat of his car. steve’s slurpee sits firmly in the cupholder. his hand falls down to your leg and you squirm when his cold fingers touch your thigh. steve finds it hilarious.

it takes you a bit to get to your destination. once arriving, steve parks at the edge of the quarry.

it’s cooled down significantly, allowing steve to shut of the car’s ac and roll the windows down. it’s still sticky out but the cold slurpee in your hand helps that.

tears for fears plays softly out of the bmw’s sound system. you know it’s from the cassette you gifted him. perks of working at a record store.

you talk quietly back and forth about wherever comes to mind: your work schedule, the stars, plans for the weekend. but then you go quiet.

“hey stevie?” 

“yeah baby?”

when you don’t immediately respond, steve’s head lolls to meet your eyes. 

you’re curled up in the passenger's seat, legs tucked to your chest and head resting against the cool leather. you’re staring at him. he’s surprised he hasn’t felt your gaze until this point. but that’s how things typically are between the two of you; silence is never uncomfortable.

steve rests his hand on your naked knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. “everything okay?”

you nod, biting your lip to suppress a giggle.

“can we trade?” you smile and for a second steve thinks you don’t realize what you’re doing.

he sighs, though a smile tugs at the edges of his lips.

“of course, baby.”

you grin as he hands his blue raspberry slurpee and he takes your cherry one. success. 

“you know, if you weren’t so cute i wouldn’t have traded,” steve huffs. 

he’ll never admit it, or maybe not anytime in the future, but he makes it a point to order the opposite of what you get.

if you’re out to eat and decide on a salad, steve will get a burger with extra fries. you pick chocolate ice cream and steve is ordering vanilla (with sprinkles). whatever you decide, even if steve doesn’t want it, he gets the contrast. 

so, when you inevitably ask to switch, your other option is always your favorite. 

like now, when blue raspberry seems like the better flavor over cherry.

“come on stevie. you should know that my favorite color is purple,” you titter, poking your tongue out to show the result of mixing the two slurpees.

steve beams.

“i do baby, i do.”

[ghoultrifle]

There's a First Time For Everything Chapter 2 - Fighting With You

WC: 1.8k

Summary: Dewdrop buys the toys he's been so curious about, with only a few breakdowns along the way. Set immediately after the previous chapter.

Notes: Fun fact! The toy reviews are almost all verbatim reviews from the lovehoney website :) isn't that fun! thank you to the unnamed friend who reignited my passion for reading sex toy reviews ashdfklhsg

I'm going to give a very slight warning for dubcon. Nothing happens, but Dewdrop gets in his own head about what might happen. Of course, Rain would never.

And a big thanks to @everybodyshusband for proofreading and hyping me up <333

Read below the cut or on AO3

“‘m ready,” Dewdrop whispers into Rain’s neck, pushing the larger ghoul off his lap, “Wanna get the feeling back in my legs,” he chuckles.

“Are you sure, Dewbug? We can wait if you want, I’ll still love you even if you never end up buying anything.”

Dewdrop grabs the water ghoul’s chin, bringing his head down to eye level, “I’ve never been so sure in my life, especially with you here,” it isn’t entirely the truth, but Dewdrop is feeling better than before, “Anyway, what is your opinion on what I sent you?”

Rain pauses before dragging a stack of filing boxes next to Dew’s chair, perching on them to watch the screen. As Dewdrop logs back in (his password is rainisgay69, ironic for someone who on some level of his dysphoria-ridden brain believes rain is secretly straight), their eyes are accosted with the bright screen illuminating the now dark room, a lilac dildo front and centre on the screen. The description reads, “Realistic Silicone Suction Cup Dildo - Perfect For Beginners”. It’s veiny, a respectable length and girth, nothing that would rip the ghoul open, but enough for him to feel the stretch, to feel full. It looks respectable, with the bonus that Dewdrop could definitely throw it into a strap on the rare occasion he does want to top; he could finally stop stealing from Cirrus.

Dewdrop flicks through the photos, capturing the length, girth, and the size comparable to a hand. Rain’s cock begins to stir at the last picture, remembering that one day he may be lucky enough to hold it, to fuck Dewdrop sweetly and gently with it while he rubs and flicks at the fire ghoul’s small dick, wringing out the most lascivious moans as Dew finally experiences divine pleasure. But this isn’t about him, so Rain wills the blood to return to his head so he can give a coherent response to his mate.

“Fuck, baby, it looks perfect,” he coos, planting a chaste kiss on Dewdrop’s cheek. He can’t help the sly comment that leaves his mouth before his brain can catch up, his mind preoccupied with the image of the toy against Dewdrop’s auburn curls, “Gonna look so good against your dripping cunt, heard ginger and purple go well together.”

The darks of Dewdrop’s eyes widen, and Rain’s face drops as he realises what he just said, “Shit- fuck- I’m fucking- I’m sorry Dewy that wasn’t the right time. I promise I’d be fine if you bought this and it just sat on the shelf forever. Or- or if you didn’t even buy it. Actually, I’d be fine if you banned all sex toys. You coul-”

A firm but gentle slap to the face interrupts the water ghoul, “Alright, wrap it up Sappy Steve. Save it for when I’m actually panicking, okay?” he chides, “And I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

He briefly glances at the top reviews, struggling to believe what he’s reading:

“I have recently celebrated my 70th birthday and this gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

“This is amazing. I can't believe how satisfying it is for a transgender person. I love to sit on it.”

Dewdrop laughs so hard he has fresh tears spilling down his face. That’s a new hobby unlocked: reading sex toy reviews online.

“See!” Rain exclaims, pointing at the screen and nudging Dewdrop’s shoulder, “You’re not the only trans person who wants to get fucked nasty with a toy,” the water ghoul is beaming at the review, hoping it will ease Dewdrop’s apprehension about it all. They’re having fun but Rain won’t pretend he hasn’t noticed how the other’s hand has been trembling as he navigates the website, how Dewdrop’s taking deep yet rapid breaths, his free hand worrying the ring on his middle finger.

The basket icon lights up as Dewdrop’s informed he only has to spend £15 more to get free delivery, “Might as well get the vibrator too, then?” he shrugs weakly, voice catching in his throat as he navigates to the second link he sent Rain earlier. “POWERFUL Vibrator - For Internal and External Use” it reads. Dewdrop re-examines it, looking at each photo in turn, breath turning shaky as he thinks about using it, putting it inside him, where no object has ventured before. As he thinks about the hard plastic sliding in, surely cold and rigid, perhaps he’ll be so dry that it will hurt, and he’ll just have to grin and bear it for his Rain.

The desk begins to shake slightly as Dewdrop’s knee bounces up and down with a fevered pace. His thumb is in his mouth, biting at the skin around his nails, leaving it red and sore. It’s getting to him. This is real. In just a few days he’ll be laying with Rain as he freaks out about it all. Now he’s told the water ghoul he wants it, he feels pressured, like he can’t say no anymore. Because if he says no, then he’s clearly leading Rain on for something that will never happen, and Rain really will break up with him this time. Why would he be with someone who is clearly never going to get over his fear of penetration? Perhaps Rain is straight and just waiting for Dewdrop to realise he is a woman after all, and when he finds out that Dew is just a man who’s scared of dick, he’ll run to the mountains, screaming a warning to everyone: Don’t Date Dewdrop.

A third set of tears begin to tumble their way down his cheeks, a small waterfall flowing with each blink the ghoul makes. His eyes are glassy, he can no longer see the offending toy on the computer, just a set of blurry white pixels laden with illegible text, Rain must have scrolled it down. Rain brings the fire ghoul into the warmest hug he can muster, peppering kisses to his neck. There is no sexual element to it, just pure love for his mate. His mate who he wishes he could take all the dysphoria from and suffer through it himself if it would mean a better life for Dewdrop. His mate who loves Dewdrop in a way the fire ghoul cannot even begin to fathom.

He truly believes he’s unlovable on a fundamental level, that his identity makes him some freak in between man and woman, that no guy would want to fuck him or be fucked by him, and no woman would take his pathetic excuse for a dick, even if he did want to top. It’s solidified in Dewdrop’s mind that Rain is only with him for his own sexual gratification, and now that Dewdrop wants to explore his own pleasure, he’ll be left to figure it out on his own. The image of him weeping as he forces a dildo into himself, cold and alone in his bedroom, is being seared further into his brain with every second that passes. Until he’s brought back to reality by Rain’s shuffling arm.

Rain decides against a tissue; Copia clearly had no regard for his own skin since the tissues in his office may as well have been constructed from sandpaper. Instead, he brings a bunched-up sleeve to Dewdrop’s eyes, catching the tears as he calms the sniffling ghoul beneath him, rocking them together in a soothing motion much like his mother would do in the pit. Words wouldn’t do Dewdrop’s pain justice; consolation would feel inadequate and pity, well, is just that and Dewdrop deserves better. He’s sure that if he reached inside the fire ghoul’s mind for just a moment, it would be more than he could ever bear. So, Rain opts for silence. The kind of silence you could sit in for eternity. The kind of silence where the world is at peace; there’s no buzzing of electricity, no shuffling in the quarters, just the sound of a gentle breeze creeping its way in through the poorly sealed windows, whistling hello as it sings its song. Rain rocks them for what could have been hours, Dewdrop isn’t sure, the sun had already set by the time he started.

Fresh air stings Dewdrop’s eyes. The flood has stopped, Rain’s sleeves near-soaked as the fire ghoul blinks the last of the hot tears from his weary eyes. His own sleeve is drenched in a thick layer of snot as he wipes his nose, the water ghoul looking on in a weird adoration for his mate. If Rain could watch him do that and still love him, then maybe there was hope. As he squints his eyes to focus on the screen, Dewdrop’s confronted with the reviews for the vibrator:

“My clit is tingling like a mo fo!! Thanks lovehoney. What a piece of cum equipment.”

“It took longer to get the item out of the packaging than it did for my wife to cum.”

Okay, maybe it isn’t quite so serious. As hilariously honest as the reviews are, it does spark something in Dewdrop- the curiosity at what these toys feel like, at how they’re so much better than just a set of hands. There must be a reason the vibrator gets a 4.7/5 on the ‘orgasm rating’. Dewdrop hesitates over the button that would add it to the basket, “I’m scared, Rain,” he admits with a sigh of relief, finally putting words to it.

“Then do it scared, spitfire,” the water ghoul replies, “Want and fear can coexist. If you truly don’t want to then I support you, droplet, but it sounds like you’re just conflicted. I think when the time comes, you’ll be glad the toys are ready for you, just like I will be.”

Dewdrop melts into the larger ghoul’s embrace. Rain has somehow managed to reach into Dew’s brain and lay his feelings bare on the table, raw and sensitive. But he’s right, about everything. Dewdrop does want it, he is scared, and he should buy it anyway. “Fuck it,” he smirks, stifled only slightly by a sniffle, as he adds the item to the basket, heading to the checkout page, a fuck you to his dysphoria. Copia’s bank details autofill and Dewdrop doesn’t complain; he’s not been left with much money since being charged with sourcing the pack’s weed on tour. Before he gives himself a chance to second guess his actions, he completes the order.

The thick tension that had filled the air dissipates in an instant, Dewdrop slumps in his chair as Rain idly braids a loose plait into hair, whispering praises to his love, “So proud of you, droplet. Whatever comes of this I want you to remember how brave you are for getting this far, okay?”

“Brave? In what world?” Dewdrop huffs.

“In this world, my love. In this world where every day is a fight between your mind and your body. In this world, where today, your mind won. And in this world where your mind won’t win every day but where I’ll be here, always, fighting with you.”

[20forty9]

I Didn't Mean To Haunt You

Chapter IV - Candles On Fire

Summary : The spirit spars with Maheas and doesn't realize the mistake it has made will lead to terrible consequences. You go on your first mission with other people, but it doesn't go all according to plan. You have to learn that it's okay to be vulnerable with people you are starting to trust.

Word Count : 9.4k

Contains : Violence. Very vague mention of top scars. I think that's it, please let me know if I'm missing anything!

Pairings : Gojo Satoru/Reader, Geto Suguru/Reader, Everyone/Reader (Reverse Harem)

Cross-posted on Ao3

A/N : So I know I said I wouldn't update in two weeks, but I lied. I lie for fun, apparently. I pumped this chapter out like my LIFE depended on it (confirmed Gege was holding the gun to my head... especially with those latest leaks brah I can't believe it). LOTS of Satoru and Gojo in this chapter! And just a short flashback to Suliman, probably the shortest one I've written so far... Some small fluff too, for once! I must really be feeling sick... I'm also curious, are there any characters you'd like to see more of? OR, actually, who are YOUR favourite characters from JJK that you'd like to see involved in the story? Remember, it's Multi x Reader, so it can be anyone! And is there anything you're not vibing with in this story so far? Feedback means the world to me and keeps me logging back in every day to check if I have any new comments. Trust me, your support goes a long way and keeps me motivated, so thank you to my regular commenters!

Curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning. ~William Arthur Ward

Suliman is utterly obsessed with the spirit’s powers, to put it simply – though even that word couldn’t put enough emphasis on it. Every day, she would create training dummies of different sizes made out of her strange purple tendrils for it to use as target practice, showing off its destructive fire capabilities. 

Though it was glad to be able to use an element without any drawbacks, the way Suliman observed, refusing to tear her eyes away for even one second, disturbed it deeply. Knowing her, she already had a few plans in mind on how to use it for her benefit. 

After absolutely eviscerating another training dummy, Suliman approaches the spirit, stepping over the leftover ashes, slowly clapping her hands. 

“Good,” she simply says. “I think I’ve had enough of you training on something like this. I have a better idea.” 

With a click of her fingers, her entourage of men walk over, followed by the kid the spirit had an encounter with a little over a month ago – Maheas is his name , if it recalls correctly. The dirty-blonde boy holds a sword in his hand, donned in clothes appropriate for exercise. He looks up at the spirit anxiously, a small frown on his face, probably remembering their first meeting. 

“Maheas, from this day forward, this spirit will train you,” Suliman explains to the boy, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are my most promising acolyte, I want to shape you to be the best, and this will surely help you achieve your goal.” 

His gaze drifts to the woman, apprehensive. But when she gives him a soft smile, it seems to weaken his resolve. 

“I won’t let you down, Madame. I’ll work as hard as possible, and become even stronger than that thing!” Maheas points an accusatory finger in the spirit's direction. “I can probably beat it right now!” 

“Oh, is that so?” She tilts her head to the side, the smile never wavering. “Well, why don’t you show me? Make me proud.” 

“I would be honoured.” 

Suliman takes a step back, followed by the men, giving both the spirit and the young boy enough space to spar. 

Unimpressed, the spirit stands firmly in place, not moving a single muscle. It doesn’t want to fight a kid, but it looks like it has no other choice. It remembers their first encounter, when Maheas punched it in the gut and managed to summon enough cursed energy to do some damage in its weakened state. As long as it doesn’t let him hit it directly, it could end this fight in mere seconds. 

“Prepare yourself, spirit!” Maheas says, pointing the tip of his sword in its direction. “I won’t go easy on you.” 

It has to fight the urge to roll its eyes, raising its fists in front of its face and bringing its left leg forward a bit, bending at the knees. With a raise of a thick red eyebrow, it provokes the young boy enough to charge forward, swinging his sword back. The spirit side-steps his attack quickly just as he brings the weapon down right where it was standing, getting it stuck in the ground. 

The sword must be slightly too heavy for Maheas, as he struggles to pull it out, giving the spirit just enough time to move a hand underneath the young boy’s arm, bringing him closer to it before it knees him in the stomach, just strong enough to knock him back and leave him breathless on the ground, but not enough to actually injure him.

Just like that, their fight is over – if you could even call that. 

After taking a deep breath, Maheas sits back up, staring daggers at the spirit. If looks could kill… 

“I want a rematch!” He declares, but when he tries to stand back up, his legs wobble and he immediately sits back down. After getting knocked down like that, the spirit knows he’ll need a few minutes before he can use his legs properly again. It motions with a hand for him to keep sitting, imitating deep breaths. 

“I don’t listen to you,” Maheas says, though he does it anyway, crossing his legs and harrumphing. 

“You did well,” Suliman says as a butler approaches the young boy with a glass of water. “You’ll only continue to improve as you train. I don’t want either of you to hold back on each other, do you understand me?” 

That seems to be a dangerous request, the spirit thinks to itself. It looks over at the boy’s discarded sword laying on the ground, deciding to pick it up and weigh it in its hands. It is definitely too heavy for a boy of his height and weight, and also too restrictive. He’d do well with a polearm. 

There’s a light smack to its side, bringing its attention to the red-faced boy who is – surprisingly enough – already standing on both legs, yelling at it. 

“Put that down, it’s not yours!” He continues weakly punching it with his small fists. 

It decides to look over the sword once more, completely ignoring Maheas, shaking its head in disappointment. 

“What seems to be the problem?” It reads upon Suliman’s lips when it looks over at her. 

She waves the butler over, who brings a piece of parchment paper and quill dipped in ink at the ready. The spirit looks at the objects, confused. 

“You barely talk, so write what’s on your mind instead,” she says. 

It hesitates as it grasps the quill, the tip of it pressing against the paper, still unsure. It doesn’t know how to write . 

“My, you really are pathetic, aren’t you?” Suliman’s lips are still quirked up in a small smile as she gently berates it. “Fine, just speak instead.” 

It swallows nervously, suddenly becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. It doesn’t know what vowels to emphasize or vocalize. It shakes its head no instead, pointing at the sword and making an ‘x’ with its fingers before gesturing at Maheas. 

“Are you saying the sword isn’t a good weapon for him?” She asks, crossing her arms. Thankful she understood it, it nods. The young boy standing next to them looks mildly offended, stomping a foot on the ground. 

“You calling me weak?!” 

The spirit shakes its head back and forth again. 

“I think it’s saying that another weapon would suit you better,” Suliman patiently explains it to him, and it nods at that. “If that’s the case, why don’t you show us what will work better?” 

Each of the men that were standing on guard brandish their weapons, each of them being different. They stand tall, backs straight and situated in a line, and hold their weapon in the palm of their hands. 

“Go on,” she encourages the spirit. 

Its eyes scrutinize over each of them before they land on a man holding a polearm. It walks over to him, pointing at it then looking back at Suliman. 

“Well, go on then,” she urges Maheas with a gentle push to his back. He reluctantly makes his way over to stand next to the spirit, taking the polearm from the man standing in front of the both of them. 

The spirit notes that it’s definitely too long for someone of his height, but with a few adjustments, he’ll be able to move more swiftly and have more versatile attacks. It will significantly extend his range and striking power, too. Compared to the sword, this is a much better option for the young boy. 

“How does it feel?” Suliman asks Maheas, observing him. 

“It’s okay, I think,” he replies, weighing the weapon in both hands. He still seems unsure, but with time he’ll become more used to it. 

“Wonderful. We’ll make you one that suits you better so you can properly train with the spirit by tomorrow,” she says, motioning at the man to take his polearm back. 

The young boy smiles widely at the prospect of a new weapon, thanking her over and over again. Suliman pats him on the head in a motherly way, giving him a smile of her own, but the spirit notices that there is no genuine warmth behind it. She adjusts her dress slightly before leading Maheas away, leaving a request to the men to bring the spirit back to its room. She waves goodbye to it as she walks with the young boy through the gardens and back to the greenhouse. 

The spirit can’t help but think it has made a grave mistake. 

 

The following day after the big thunderstorm, you wake up with a sudden start, feeling your alarm clock vibrate underneath the pillow. You click it off, setting it on the nightstand, and immediately sit up, wiping the sleep away from your eyes. It feels like your blood is already pumping – today is a big day, after all. It’s your first official mission, no less a mission with other people. Today is a day where you can prove his worth and show your loyalty to the higher-ups. 

You already have some clothes set aside for today – your usual sleeveless compression shirt and dark brown cargo pants and converse. After taking a shower and changing, you open the blinds to let in the morning sun shine into the room through the leaves of the trees outside. After the terrible weather from yesterday, it seems that today is a beautifully bright day. 

You smile to yourself, grabbing your notebook and pen. Closing and locking the door behind you, you exit the dormitories, heading to Yaga’s classroom so your team can be debriefed. As usual, you’re the first one there, so you take a seat at the desk you claimed during your first time there, putting your legs up on the table. 

“How are you feeling today?” Yaga asks as he looks up from his laptop, a pen in his right hand, papers in his left. It looks like he was doing paperwork for a mission the others must’ve been sent on recently. 

You reply with a thumbs up and a bright smile, which makes the older man relax, leaning back in his chair. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

While you both wait for the others to show up, you doodle silly drawings in the notebook to fight the boredom. You’re not an artist by any means, but it still helps to pass time. You drew the fish that were in the sign language book from yesterday, but this time, the koi fish is swimming happily with the two other betta fish in a small pond. 

You get pulled out of your intense focus when a manicured finger taps down on the top of the notebook, bringing your gaze up to meet Shoko’s. 

“Cute drawing,” she says, leaning over to see it better. 

You sign thanks a little bit flustered, flipping the notebook to a blank page. 

- How are you doing? :) 

“I’m good, thanks,” she replies, hopping onto the desk next to your own. She turns to look at her teacher. “Am I on time, sensei?” 

“Take a look at the clock yourself,” he seems to grumble. 

Five minutes past their agreed meeting time. “Ehh, close enough.” 

It takes another ten minutes for Gojo and Geto to show up together, fashionably late as always. Instead of wearing the hoodie he used to wear with the hood up to protect his eyes, Gojo has now switched into the full normal school uniform, along with the glasses you gifted him. 

“Yo!” The white-haired man casually greets Yaga, a wide smile spread across his face. 

“Fifteen minutes,” the man replies. 

“Huh?”

“ Fifteen minutes late!” You can nearly feel the ground shake from how loudly Yaga yells. “Are you two morons ??!” 

“Sorry sensei, it’ll never happen again, we promise,” Geto says, bowing at the waist in respect. When he notices Gojo doesn’t bow either, he shoves a hand at the back of his head to force him to follow. 

You share a deadpan look with Shoko. You seem to be having the exact same thought — it’ll happen next week, guaranteed. 

“...Well, now that you’re all here, we’ll debrief and you’ll leave as soon as I’m done explaining,” Yaga says, closing his laptop and setting his papers in a neat pile. “This curse has been reported near an abandoned concert venue, just on the outskirts of Hachioji. It’s a bit of a drive, but bear with me. It shouldn’t be too difficult–” he levels a deadly look in Gojo’s direction, “–it’s a simple Grade 2. Just remember to put a veil up, and don’t get injured. Shoko is staying behind today.” 

“No complaints from me,” she says before rolling her head side to side, trying to loosen up a kink in her neck. 

“Behave, you two,” he tells both Gojo and Geto before turning to you. “And you… just– I don’t know, do what you usually do, but don’t be a pain in the ass.” 

You salute him with a goofy smile spread across your face, making the teacher glare at you halfheartedly. Unbeknownst to you, the two young men in the room snicker behind you at your behaviour. 

With the meeting adjourned, the three of you walk through the Jujutsu school’s campus to make your way to the transport car, where the driver waits for you patiently. You all clamber into the car, Gojo sitting in the passenger seat because of his ridiculously long limbs. He seems that he doesn’t know what to do with them either, awkwardly shifting the seat back to make enough room to be comfortable. You sit directly behind him with Geto to your right. 

The car immediately speeds off, the view of trees and houses quickly blurring together. You wistfully look out of your window. The sun shines brightly through the leaves of the trees, making you squint a little and turn your head to the right, facing Geto instead, who is already looking at you. 

“Are you looking forward to exorcising your first curse?” He asks, resting his cheek on his fist. 

Thankful you didn’t forget your notebook today, you quickly write on the paper. 

- Yes, I hope we’ll make a good team. I’m aware you two are capable, but we should learn to work as a team properly. And I’m NOT(!!!!) just saying that because I’m scared of what Yaga might say if we end up causing a mess, I genuinely want to help with making Tokyo more safe. 

You doodle a small smiley face at the end of your paragraph, hopefully to drive your point home. You’re more than aware that the two of them are adept at this, but they can’t be the only two to do so. They should be able to rely on others, especially someone that doesn’t need as much rest, food or water like most humans do. 

“It’ll be a learning experience, for sure,” the raven-haired man humbly replies, before his eyes seem to sharpen, sending a teasing look in your direction as he reads the rest. “You’re sure you’re not afraid of Yaga?”

You shake your head back and forth vigorously, your arms forming an ‘x’ in protest. Absolutely, but I won’t tell these two that. 

Gojo abruptly turns around in his seat, leaning over the center armrest (and apparently pissing off the driver while doing it) and shoves his phone in Geto’s face. 

“Look, look!” He says, waving the phone around wildly in front of his friend’s eyes. 

“Dude, calm down,” Geto scoffs, yanking it from Gojo’s hands to take a look. “Seriously, Digimon?” 

“X-Evolution is finally out on DVD, we gotta watch it!!!” 

“Didn’t you see that movie, like, six times since its release?” He raises an eyebrow, shooting him a judgemental look. 

“Actually, it’s more like seven. Or eight,” he pauses, pushing his sunglasses up along the bridge of his nose. “Wait, actually, no, it was ten.” 

“You look like a total nerd,” Geto looks down at the screen again. “And somehow you want to watch it again ?” 

“Absolutely.”

The white-haired man says it with the most serious expression you have ever seen that you can’t help but snort lightly, covering your mouth with your hand when you realize it grabbed both of the men’s attention. For some reason, it makes you feel incredibly uncomfortable. So you settle back in your seat, leaning your head back and only turning your eyes back onto their lips to read the conversation once you’re absolutely sure Gojo’s piercing gaze is fixated back onto his friend. 

“Let’s pick up the DVD after the mission,” he says, grabbing his phone back from Geto’s hands, still continuing to lean over the armrest. 

“You mean you’ll pick it up,” he points at him. “I am not paying for that. You are literally rich.” 

“But it’s more special and meaningful and romantic when we pay for something together!” He whines, wrapping his long arms around the headrest and hugging it in faux-comfort. This man truly loves bringing out the theatrics , you think to yourself. 

“Allow me to disagree with you on that,” Geto says, a deadpan look on his face, before turning his head to the window. 

He seems to be saying something else, you can tell by the way his jaw moves, but you can’t see his lips from this angle. Whatever it is, it makes Gojo laugh and point at him, but by this point you don't bother following the conversation anymore, too confused. What the hell is Digimon, anyways? What’s a DVD? Sighing to yourself, you look outside, watching the scenery pass by. 

A little over half an hour passes by when the car makes it out to the outskirts, driving along a slim road. There are farmhouses and fields, buildings placed further apart from each other as it becomes more remote. Tokyo city has nothing compared to the lush greenery on Hachioji’s outskirts, and you can tell that it’s much more quiet here compared to the city. There’s no familiar rumbling of trucks that you have become accustomed to when walking along the pavement, instead it’s peaceful. You wonder if the birds chirp more loudly here. 

The driver drives up a steep hill, and the distant sight of a mountain covered in thick, healthy green trees greets your group. The car goes up, up, up and around the streets that bend along the hill before you come across a split in the road. The driver turns to the left onto an unpaved road, gravel bouncing against metal, and suddenly the sun seems to disappear underneath the canopy of leaves. 

The deeper you go onto this unpaved road, the less you come across houses, until there are none left. Instead, old, empty, rusty steel drums spray painted with arrows and different symbols replace them. There’s nothing around except for ‘ No Trespassing! ' signs. 

The vehicle comes to a sudden halt, and you feel the door underneath your palm shake slightly, meaning that the car is unlocked. You open the door with your notebook in hand, happy to stretch your legs out after spending nearly an hour travelling. You feel the dry twigs snap underneath your feet, dead leaves brushing against your ankles. The smell of fresh air fills your lungs, and you take a deep breath in. This is as close to heaven as it gets . You reach back into the car to grab your polearm that was laying on the floor in its holder, putting the strap around your chest so the weapon can rest against your back, leaving your hands free. 

There’s a quick tap on your shoulder, and you turn around to be face-to-face with Gojo, who looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. Bright blue eyes stare at you, and you realize that it’s something that you’ll have to get used to, unless you want that smug bastard to tease you every time you get nervous from looking at him in the eyes. 

“Let’s go,” he says, thumbing behind him. “We have to walk a bit, and the driver is gonna stay with the car. Hope you like to hike.” 

You have to leg over the horizontal chain attached to two poles to block any cars from passing, and Gojo nearly trips over it, his hand immediately reaching out to your arm to steady himself before he can fall face first and accidentally eat a pile of dirt. 

“ Nice one, ” you sign with an eyebrow raised, the white-haired man standing back at full height, rubbing his hands against his uniform as if trying to wipe your cursed energy off of his skin. 

“I don’t know what you just said to me, but I don’t like your attitude, kiddo,” Gojo replies, taking a ‘ parent-disappointed-in-you ’ pose, arms crossed, hips jutting out. He’s about to retort with something else before he closes his mouth instead, jogging ahead to catch up to Geto, who was waving the two of you over impatiently. 

“Let’s just get this over with instead of messing around, alright?” The raven-haired man sighs, an exasperated look on his face. 

“You just wanna show off,” Gojo says, tucking his hands into his pockets before sauntering off. 

None of you speak a word amongst each other until you make it to a big, rundown building. It’s not as big as a stadium, but the concerts held here back in the day must’ve been fun with such an open area. 

“I wonder why they had a venue out in the middle of nowhere,” Geto says to you as he walks alongside you. “Seems a bit strange.” 

- More space? Beats me. 

You turn the page to face him after you finish writing, giving him a shrug of your shoulders. 

You’re just about to ask where Gojo went until a flash of bright white hair makes itself known in the corner of your eye. You see him waving at you both, motioning you to come closer to the building. 

“Slowpokes, over here!” 

Geto rolls his eyes, but follows him inside, and you follow suit. 

You’re greeted with a dark lobby, burst pipes leaking water and forming deep puddles on the ground. You can immediately feel the water seeping into your canvas shoes and socks, making your face scrunch up in distaste. At another glance, there are multiple stands labeled ‘Food’, ‘Alcohol’, ‘Merchandise’, and more. This must’ve definitely been a popular place. The paint is peeling off of the walls, and there’s graffiti sprayed against any space that isn’t occupied by mold or dirty, dripping water. You walk over to a concession stand, inspecting it and turning your back to the front doors where your group first walked in from. 

“Do you think Nirvana played here?” Gojo asks Geto, pointing at the large closed doors, presumably leading to the concert hall itself. 

“Are you fucking stupid?” 

Gojo pouts, kicking a fallen piece of pipe on the ground. “Jeez, you only had to say no.” 

Just as he’s about to open the big doors, he pauses, his whole body freezing up. Geto, upon noticing this, feels a wave of guilt wash over him, assuming his words actually insulted his friend. 

“Hey, you know I was just kidding, right?” 

“Get down!” Gojo whips around suddenly, calling out your name. Luckily, you had been looking at the two of them just as he spoke up, and the instant you read his lips, you duck, not even thinking twice. You feel a violent crack of air whip the top of your head – if you hadn’t moved in time, your head would’ve been sliced clean off. 

Twisting your body around, you look up, coming face-to-face with a group of low-levelled curses, one of them having long, razor-sharp cleavers for arms. They’re all mangled and twisted, ribs protruding out of their sides and wearing paper masks with strange symbols trying to imitate facial features. Their skin is almost human-like, but the fact that every inch of them is somehow warped together quickly puts that thought to rest. You reach for your back, about to pull out your polearm from its sheath, but you’re beaten to the punch as Geto runs up behind you, launching himself in the air and kicking Razor-arms in the face, sending it stumbling backwards. 

The other curses quickly retaliate, one of them trying to gain the upper hand while Geto is still in the air and grabbing his leg, slamming him down onto the hard floor. They’re about to bring down a finishing blow, but get interrupted by you finally taking out your polearm and slashing at their masks, making the group stumble back. Gojo immediately rushes over, splaying out his arms before bringing them together again and making rushed, complicated hand movements. The reaction is instantaneous – a large blue orb starts forming and the entire group of curses get sucked into it like a magnet, crashing together before turning into nothing. 

You and Geto get back on their feet. You’re shocked at what you just saw, mismatched eyes wide in surprise. Gojo just completely evaporated those curses as if it was nothing to him, not even a single drop of sweat wasted on them. This must be why he’s on such a constant high horse .

The white-haired man looks at you in disdain. “You’re a cursed spirit and you didn’t even feel your own kind?” He rolls his eyes. Well, there’s that classic Gojo that you first met – so much for his unexpected kindness from yesterday. 

You look around for your notebook, hoping to explain your lack of reaction better. Unfortunately, you find it where you nearly got decapitated, in a muddied puddle of water, completely ruined. Wonderful, you think to yourself. You can’t even be angry at the fact you were so careless just to toss it away at the first breath of danger, just annoyed. 

“Maybe you didn’t want to kill them,” he continues, making your eyebrows raise. It was hard not to be genuinely offended by that comment. “After all, they’re you.” 

“ They aren’t me at all, ” you try to be patient as you sign, but you can’t help the feeling of anxiety that pangs in your chest, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. This is not how you wanted your first mission with others to go. 

“Satoru, that’s enough. If you want to nag them about this, do it later,” Geto interrupts the two of you, motioning vaguely to the big doors you had yet to go through. “Let’s get this done first.” 

Gojo decides to heed to his friend’s demands, mercifully giving you some space. You trail behind the white-haired man, looking down at your water-logged shoes, feeling a heavy weight on your shoulders. That is, until Gojo grabs you by the bicep to tug you forward to walk beside him. Surprised at the sudden action, you look up at him. 

“You’re too quiet, I won’t be able to hear if you get snatched up by a curse,” he explains through gritted teeth, looking up at the graffitied ceiling through his sunglasses. Refusing to actually acknowledge you, as if you’re more of an annoyance than teammate. 

You look forward, not bothering to dignify him with a reply. A tight feeling in your chest makes itself known, unpleasant and uncomfortable. 

“Seems weird to me that we haven’t run into the Grade 2 curse yet. Yaga didn’t tell us there would be any others besides it,” Geto turns around to face the two of you when you approach the door, an unsure look in his eyes. 

Gojo shrugs nonchalantly, walking up to the doors and tugging on the handles to pry them open. As soon as they swing ajar, a thick cloud of dust permeates through the air, making all of you cough violently as you breathe it in. Carefully, Geto takes the first step in, taking a flashlight out of the deep pocket of his pants, turning it on to illuminate the concert hall. 

The ceilings are high, and the venue has a main floor, balcony, and gallery. The seats are old and wrecked, a layer of dust, dirt and mold covering them all. Some are knocked over by miscreants, others are completely missing, and some are left untouched. The stage itself is decorated with even more graffiti, not a single inch left blank. 

Geto and Gojo are conversing about something, standing closer to each other than before, and it frustrates you to no end that you can’t tell what they’re discussing because of how dark the room is. If only the windows weren’t blacked out, then the room would have just enough light for you to lip-read. 

You’re about to wander off on your own to find the curse until there’s a powerful rumble underneath your feet, nearly making you lose your footing. Suddenly, a gigantic monstrosity crashes through the stage, sending wood and debris flying everywhere. The creature has multiple limbs, the most prominent features being its two front arms covering its ears, an unhinged jaw with far too many rows of teeth, with snot, sweat and tears running down every single orifice on its body. Its complexion is stark white, and there are strange neon tattoos along its other limbs. 

This must be the curse Yaga was talking about. 

This is definitely more powerful than a Grade 2 curse. 

Even with your lack of awareness of cursed energy, you can certainly tell that this is far beyond whatever was reported. 

There’s another powerful shake in the ground as the beast opens up its mouth, sending spittle flying everywhere. You ready your polearm, prepared to exorcise the curse, but you notice the lack of attack from your teammates. Gojo should be jumping at the opportunity to show off and waste another creature. Concerned, you take a quick glance behind your shoulder and notice that both Gojo and Geto are hunched over, covering their ears and clenching their jaws so hard that you can notice a prominent vein in the raven-haired man’s forehead popping out. 

You run over to them, hesitantly placing a comforting hand on Geto’s back. Eyes that were once screwed shut crack open to look up at your worried gaze, and he weakly points to the huge curse on the stage. 

It suddenly dawns on you – the rumbling wasn’t from the pure size of this curse breaking through the wall, it was from its mouth. It’s screeching so loud to the point where everything is shaking. 

The curse stops screaming for a moment, turning its deformed body to look around, its singular huge eye locking straight onto you . A dense string of drool pools from the corner of its mouth onto the ground, creating a disgusting, thick puddle of mucus below it. 

Taking the short distraction to his advantage, Gojo starts to make those complicated hand signs again, but unfortunately the curse notices too quickly – it opens its mouth to continue shrieking at your group, making glass shatter all around you. It completely incapacitates Gojo and Geto, whose hands immediately go to cover their ears again. Upon closer inspection, you notice drops of blood running down both of their jaws; the curse is so loud it makes their ears bleed. 

And you can’t hear a thing. 

The resolution comes to you much more easily than you expected. You grip your polearm tightly in your left hand, running forward to give yourself enough momentum to throw yourself upwards, twisting your body in the air to bring the blade of your weapon forward. Just as it’s about to pierce the skin of the curse, it opens its mouth and makes such a powerful blast of noise that it sends you flying back in the air, roughly landing on your back against some seats on the top floor, in the gallery. 

You cough violently as the breath is knocked out of your lungs, but quickly gets back up onto your feet. The curse is already aiming one of its gangly legs in your direction, and you level it with a glare, unmoving until it brings its hand down. The second the large limb gets close enough for impact, you push your foot against the ground, sending you sideways and putting just the right amount of distance to avoid getting hit. 

Its arm gets jammed between the seats and concrete of the third floor, and you take the opportunity to hop onto the forelimb, running along it and bringing your polearm forward to take yet another swing at the curse. Just as expected, the curse tries to screech at you again, so you jump up, going above its head and somersaulting in the air to bring your weapon down. Just as you feel the blade make impact with solid skin, a mouth appears right where the blade is and swallows it whole. You don't have enough time to register the shock, but still have half a mind to use the rest of your momentum to fall back down onto the ground floor, where your teammates are still hunched over, clutching at their heads in agony. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain that must be rattling throughout their brain. 

You huff, wiping the sweat from your brow. With no more weapons in hand, you decide to take this curse seriously and be more cautious. This isn’t just a Grade 2 anymore, this is something definitely dangerous. But…

You don't want to use your powers in front of others. Knowing that you are capable of this destruction will only make others more fearful of you, and it’s the last thing you want. You don't want to be isolated again, or working and living with people who don’t trust you. You just want to help. 

You’re considering his options, glancing back at Gojo and Geto for a moment, a wave of concern washing over you. If you don't get rid of this curse soon, they’ll probably lose their hearing completely, if they haven’t already. Fuck, if only things weren’t so damn complicated–

You see the shock written across Gojo’s face before you feel the impact against your side. His blacked-out sunglasses dropped down to the tip of his bloody nose, the sides of his face covered in blood, but he still had enough consciousness left in him to register the curse creeping behind you, eyes widening as it pulls back a large hand and whips you across the room. 

You break through multiple layers of wood, feeling splinter after splinter embedding in your skin and ripping it open as they get caught onto other debris. Finally, you slam against the furthest wall, concrete cracking against your back from the sudden shock. Blood spurts from your mouth - definitely a few broken ribs - and you feel dizzy, but you can’t pass out just yet. You force yourself onto shaky legs, looking at the creature that seems to be preparing to release another bloodcurdling scream. 

Fuck it.

There’s a sharp spike of pain that courses throughout your body as you raise your right arm, aiming at the curse. With a snap of your fingers, an enormous explosion of cyan fire mixed with purple flames ignites the entire stage, crawling across the curse’s skin and making it wail out in pain – or at least, that’s what you think it's doing. You can feel the heat against your skin, sparks igniting and scorching the exposed part of your arms, sweat beading your forehead. Tears and mucus fly everywhere as the curse’s limbs reach out for release, anything, from the burning that is spreading all along its body. Multiple hands crunch concrete and wood underneath it, bringing half of the ceiling down on top of it, but the flames burn brightly until the violent rumbling underneath your feet becomes a simple vibration, then turns to nothing . 

You bring your right hand up again, palm facing the violent flames, then bring it back down to your side, making the fire dissipate completely, leaving behind a mountain of ashes and thick clouds of smoke in its wake. 

And just like that, it’s over. 

You breathe in and out deeply, ribs painfully screaming out in protest at the action, and you clutch at your side to try and alleviate the pain. That curse had quite the punch to it , you think to yourself. Looking up, you walk through the smoke to return to your teammates and check on them. The uncomfortable warmth from using your fire lingers in the building, making you feel like you’re in a sauna. Your nose scrunches as you wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, only to feel the moisture gather again. 

You know they’ll be horrified and disgusted. You feel a pang of sadness and guilt – they’ll never want to face you again. Gojo was right, you are a cursed spirit. You’ll only bring destruction and death to the people around you. You’re a monster.  

You do not expect the sight in front of you. Geto smiles at you in relief when he sees you appear through the thick clouds of smoke, though his eyebrows are knitted in concern when he sees you clutch your side. Gojo, however, beams at you, bright white teeth on display. His hands are covered in blood, but he doesn’t seem to mind it in the least. 

“Holy shit, why didn’t you tell us you could do that?!” Gojo exclaims, walking up to you and wiping the blood on the pants of his uniform. “You’re not as weak as I thought you were.” 

You stare at them, confused. Shouldn’t they be worried that you’d use this power against them? Isn’t this exactly what Gojo and the council of elders were afraid of? Eyes unblinking and unfocused, you give him a half-hearted shrug, feeling like you can barely move a muscle all of a sudden. 

This feels wrong. Bile rises at the back of your throat as uneasiness creeps along your spine – shouldn’t you be punished for unleashing your power like that? Gojo and Geto are obviously putting up a front. As soon as you all return to the school grounds, you’ll be thrown into confinement again, you’re sure of it. There’s no way this can end well for you. 

“Damn, my head is killing me,” Gojo says, bringing you out of your inner turmoil. “Let’s head back, I need to fix my poor eardrums.” 

Geto wordlessly follows, your eyes glued to the ground below you as your eyes go back to feeling clouded, mind feeling foggy as your body moves on autopilot. The tips of your fingers are tingling, hands and arms feeling numb as you feel like you’ve detached from yourself, a third-person view to your own life. You feel nothing until you collide into Geto’s muscular back, feeling your ribs throbbing in pain. 

Wondering why the raven-haired man came to a sudden stop, you focus back on the moment at hand, looking up at him. Geto looks concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he clasps his chin in between his fingers. He eventually closes his eyes in frustration, lips downturned. 

“Did any of us put up a veil?” He asks. 

Gojo turns his head around slowly, the smile on his face frozen. You feel cold sweat gathering at the back of your neck.

“Oh, fuck.” 

It’s pitch black by the time the car returns to campus, all staff and students already tucked in for the night besides Gojo, Geto, and yourself. It’s nearing one in the morning, as Gojo forced the driver escorting you to stop by a DVD store to pick up the latest Digimon movie, then dinner, then snacks too. Thankfully, he paid for everything. 

The best part about the situation is that Yaga is an early sleeper, so none of you have to face his wrath about messing up the veil until tomorrow morning when you have to debrief. You’re all too tired to deal with being slapped over the head by a ruler. It’s the small mercies that make all the difference. 

The streetlamps and the moon are the only things illuminating the pathway to the dormitory building, all three of you lugging your own plastic bags filled with goodies back to Gojo’s room. You place it down next to the door as the white-haired man goes to unlock it, and turn to leave to go back to your own room until you feel a large, warm hand grasp your right wrist. Your head snaps back, turning to face Gojo. 

“Where’re you going?” He asks, frowning and tilting his head to the side. “We’re all watching a movie together, c’mon. You don’t have a choice.” 

Your mouth drops open slightly, confused. “ Okay, ” you sign with your free hand, letting it awkwardly hang in the air. As subtle as possible, you yank your wrist free from Gojo’s hold, feeling the warmth spread along your arm through the bandages. 

Gojo’s room is tidy, for the most part. There’s a pile of dirty clothes in the corner of his room, right next to the laundry basket, and his bed is left unmade, blankets strewn everywhere. However, the desk is set up in a precise way, the chair is tucked in, and all the pens are lined up straight. The posters in his room are mostly all of Digimon and some other movies that you don't know. The TV is parallel to his bed that is pressed up against the wall, exactly like yours is, and there are a few bean bag chairs on the ground in front of it. 

Geto immediately launches himself on top of one, letting his body sink into it and letting himself relax. Gojo sets up the large array of snacks on his desk after putting his pens away, putting his favourite ones on the right. You continue awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, observing him as he puts chips in a large bowl. His head twists to the door suddenly and he opens it up, revealing Shoko. 

Her brown hair is a bit of a mess, and she looks exhausted, but she manages to muster a small grin when her eyes land on you, waving at you. 

Wordlessly, Gojo pulls out the chair underneath his desk and sits in it, Shoko immediately walking behind him and puts her hands over his ears. A small glow of cursed energy emits from her hands soon after, and you can see the way the white-haired man visibly deflates in the chair. A few minutes pass, and she strolls over to Geto, leaning over to do the same thing to him. 

She goes to you last, hands hovering in the air. 

“I’m still not sure if I can even heal you, considering last time,” she says, looking at you with a hesitant look in her eye. “But your ribs need to be looked at, at the very least.” 

“What do you mean, you can’t heal them?” Geto asks, lifting his head up from the bean bag. 

“I tried to heal their nose, but I couldn’t,” she replies rather simply. “Sorry, this might hurt a bit.” 

Her hands press against your ribcage, and you inhale sharply, trying to stay still as Shoko’s cursed energy resonates against you. 

“See, it’s not letting me,” she says, looking at you then at the other two men. “I can feel their injuries – just bruised ribs – but I can’t properly heal them. I can feel that they’re hurt, but it’s like every single part of them is, and my technique can’t pinpoint the source of where they’re actually injured at the moment.” 

Geto looks over at you thoughtfully, his gaze raking up the entire length of your body. His eyes land on the bandages carefully wrapped around your arms, still securely in place even after the encounter with the curse. His eyes narrow – maybe Shoko’s cursed energy is focusing on whatever is hidden beneath the bandages. You notice his stare and nervously shuffle in place, which makes Shoko grab you by the biceps to keep you still. 

“Don’t move,” she tells you, frowning. “Do you have any more clean bandages?” 

You nod your head, holding a finger up. Be right back, you mouth, then walk out of Gojo’s dorm to go to your own room. You unlock the door, being greeted with a pitch-black room. Quickly flicking the lights on, you rummage through one of the drawers of your dresser for the bandage wraps. You feel the familiar scratchy fabric brush against your fingers, and grab a roll out. As you go to close the door and make your way back to the group, you take a final look at your room. 

It feels more empty and desolate than usual. You’ve never associated this feeling with your own dorm room before, and it’s not something you like. There’s a tug at your chest, something at the back of your mind telling you to return to the others, and you decide to listen.

Shoko smiles when she sees the bandages in your hand, taking the roll from you and motioning you to take your compression shirt off, tugging at the edge of it. 

You press your lips together awkwardly, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Maybe you should’ve just stayed in your room, after all . However, the look she gives you says enough – you don't have much of a choice. You exhale deeply out through your nose, acquiescing. The shirt is covered in the curse’s mucus and sticks to your skin, nearly making you gag as you take it off, feeling the slime stick to you. 

“Jesus, what the hell were you guys fighting?” Shoko’s gaze is fixed on the two other men who look equally grossed out, thinking at the bodily fluids from earlier. When she turns her head to look back at you, her eyes immediately land on your exposed chest, eyebrows raising slightly. “Ohh… I kinda guessed.” 

The scars on your chest aren’t something you’re ashamed of, but it’s still something that you consider private. You understand that you’re taking his shirt off purely for medical reasons, but it still feels like you’re exposing a side of yourself that only one other person knows. And now, other people know, people whose opinions you care about. 

“I appreciate you feeling comfortable enough to do that,” Shoko says your name, looking directly into your mismatched eyes. “It means a lot.” 

That makes you smile for the first time in hours. You nod, looking down bashfully as the eye contact is a bit too much for you right now. Your eyes eventually flicker to both Gojo then Geto, the latter giving you an encouraging thumbs up. You notice that both of them have changed into different clothes, out of their dirtied uniforms and into t-shirts and sweatpants. You look over to the white-haired man, who has shoveled a bunch of sweets into his mouth. He’s saying something, but it’s too hard for you to lipread when half his face is covered by food. Gojo seems to realize this, swallowing everything down in one large gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“We don’t care about that stuff, dude,” he tells you. “You don’t have to worry about us judging you.” 

You sign your earnest thanks, warmth spreading across your cheeks. 

“Yeah, seriously, I’m more worried about the bruises,” Shoko says, pointing to the darkened skin.

She then raises your arms, unfurling the bandage roll and starting to wrap it around your torso. The pressure is uncomfortable and makes your body ache, and you can’t help your eyes from scrunching closed – it’s been a while since you’ve gotten injured like this, and it doesn’t seem to get any easier. 

As soon as she’s done bandaging you up, you reach for your discarded shirt before Gojo’s hand stops you, grasping your wrist. He seems to have a knack for touching you. 

“Nuh-uh, no way are you putting that back on when it’s covered in that shit,” he yanks the shirt out of your clutches. “And get out of those pants too, they reek. You aren’t allowed in my room if you keep wearing those.” 

“You know, if you want to see them naked that bad, you could’ve been more subtle,” Shoko teases Gojo, a wide grin spread across her face, provoking him to try and trip her with his long legs. 

“Fuck off,” he says, though the tips of his ears are turning red. “That isn’t what I meant, go smoke outside or something…” He proceeds to shove a white t-shirt and some grey sweatpants into your arms before addressing you. “Just go change in the bathroom.” 

You nod, a smile playing upon your lips. Though Gojo’s attitude towards you has been fluctuating like crazy today, you’re grateful that the man still has enough decency left in him to give you clean clothes. 

You close the door to the bathroom, turning the light on and being greeted by the sight of yourself in the mirror. Your face immediately drops. The reminder of Suliman’s permanent mark on you stares back at you, the magenta eye seemingly haunting every corner of your mind. You look down to your left arm, thankfully still covered. There’s no trace of the curse mark peeking through. 

You quickly tug the oversized t-shirt on, the fabric soft and delicate against your skin – it must’ve cost Gojo a pretty penny for it. Next, you take your ruined cargo pants off, tugging the sweats up. The ankles of the pants are way too long and cover your feet, but you’ll have to work with it. After tightening the drawstring of the pants to make sure they don’t slip down your hips, you give yourself one last look in the mirror. 

You only see the version of yourself that you were with Suliman. A mess of a monster, clinging to any humanity blessed upon it. A glutton for a life worth living, but the hunger for curiosity was its ultimate punishment. At any moment, Geto and Gojo will most likely realize what a terrible creature you are and become disgusted with you. 

You can’t look at yourself any longer, opening the door of the bathroom and joining the others again. You force yourself to ignore the thoughts gnawing at the back of your mind, determined to enjoy the most of your night.

Gojo has the TV turned on now, delicately placing a metal disc in the strange contraption underneath the television. He has a notebook and pen in his other hand, and the second his eyes land on you, he stands up straight, walking over and grabbing your hand to place the notebook and pen in your hold. 

“There you go,” it’s hard to tell what he says because his mouth barely moves, as if he’s trying to keep the conversation just between yourselves, but you make out just enough to understand. Gojo then steps back, flopping onto the other free beanbag chair, a black brick with buttons in his hand – you have never seen anything like that before. 

- What’s that thing that Gojo has? And what’s the round shiny thing? And the thing under the TV? 

You nearly shove the notebook in Geto’s face, making his shoulders shake lightly with laughter. 

“You’ve got lots of questions about things, don’t you?” He tilts his head to the side, a small smile on his face. “That’s a remote, he’s putting the DVD in the player so we can watch a movie.” 

“...You do know what a movie is, right?” Shoko asks as she walks over with a bowl of snacks in hand. She puts a big pillow on the ground, plopping herself right in between the bean bags. 

You nod your head, deciding to sit down on the edge of Gojo’s bed, legs dangling right behind Shoko. 

“Which one’s your favourite?” Gojo turns around to watch the conversation unfold, finger hovering over the ‘play’ button. 

You shrug. Yaga has talked about his favourite movies in the past, but you never ended up watching any together. 

- I don’t know, I’ve never watched any before. 

As soon as you turn the notebook around for the others to read, Gojo’s face drops, and he looks horrified. 

“You are the most boring person I know,” he says, instantly getting a slap on the back of his head from Geto. “Ouch!”

“Do you have any self awareness?” Geto glares at him. 

“But their life sounds so dull! No boba or movies? What the hell was sensei doing, was he keeping you locked up in a dungeon or what?!” He raises his arms to gesture at you. 

Well, it wasn’t a dungeon. Though you decide to keep your hands by your side instead of saying anything. It would probably make Gojo more aggravating. You just aggressively point at the remote instead, then at the TV. 

“Gladly,” he replies, pressing play. “Prepare to be amazed .” 

Shoko turns to look up at you from the ground, a conspiratorial look on her face. “I think this is a good time to tell you that Satoru is the biggest Digimon nerd on the entire planet. Don’t be fooled, he could ramble about the entire lore for hours.” 

You quietly laugh as Gojo gives her an offended look. “I am proud to know every single detail about Digimon, thank you very much.” 

“That is not the flex you think it is,” Geto says with a deadpan look on his face, before he takes a handful of chips into his mouth. Noticing your eyes on him, he offers the bag to you. “They’re barbecue flavoured.” 

You happily munch away on the snacks as the movie rolls, the colours completely enrapturing you. The closed captioning was the cherry on top, too; you’re able to understand everything so easily, a wide grin on your face as you follow along with the story. If only you could have that in person whenever someone talked to you, then you may not feel so isolated from everyone else. Absent-mindedly, you grab one of the pillows on the bed and hug it in your arms, hunching over as your head rests on top of it and crossing your legs. 

All of your friends seem engaged, cheering and laughing. The characters look incredibly strange, but their designs are enticing to you, and Gojo seems to love this movie, so you keep your entire attention on the screen. 

However, the weight of everything that has happened today seems to finally be catching up to your body, and you feel your eyelids droop, a muted yawn slipping past your lips. Gojo’s bed is so comfortable, the mattress soft and malleable underneath you, so you can’t help but lay your body down, half-opened eyes still trained on the screen. The colours seem to mix together eventually, and you can’t keep your eyes open, letting the comforting embrace of sleep lull you. 

You don't even feel it when you fully fall asleep. 

There’s someone shuffling the covers, trying to be as delicate as possible as to not wake you up. You’re so tired that you let them move you around, feeling your head sink into the softest pillow you’ve ever felt. Then something warm envelops your body, and you fall unconscious again. 

Halfway through the night, you wake up again, fully opening your eyes. It’s completely dark in the room, save for the blinds drawn back, the moonlight illuminating some parts of it. You’re covered by a fluffy blanket, still laying over the duvet – someone must’ve placed it over you. You see Geto and Shoko both sleeping soundly on the floor on futon mattresses, the beanbags discarded to another corner of the room. 

But, where is… 

You feel movement from behind, and cautiously turn around, seeing the back of Gojo’s head, his white hair now a blue hue from the moonlight. He seems to be asleep too, shoulders slowly moving as he breathes slowly in rhythmic patterns, shoulders relaxed, and you smile. After the long day you’ve all had, you deserve a good night’s rest. 

You go back-to-back once more with Gojo, prepared to fall back asleep. You tuck your chin into the fluffy blanket, ready to close your eyes, but your gaze lands on the nightstand next to the bed. 

The notebook and pen that you were given earlier lay on the nightstand, with Gojo’s sunglasses neatly placed on top of the open notebook. 

Three different handwritings are scribbled on the paper. One is messy, almost ridiculously so, the other is neat, and the last is incredibly precise. All three read the same thing. 

- Goodnight. 

You smile. 

And you finally let yourself fall back asleep.

[specialagentlokitty]

Teen wolf x reader - family isn’t blood

Would I be able to request a teen wolf imagine where reader is an orphan who is in the pack, and constantly trying to prove themselves worthy to the pack, and the pack (more so Alison and Lydia if that’s ok?) helping reader see that they are worthy and have a family with the pack and worrying about them being so reckless, please??? - Anon💜

You weren’t sure how long it had been, you started your research after the pack meeting the night before, now the sunlight was breaking through your windows.

Your mind was begging for your to stop, to get some rest, but you ignored it, still flicking through hooks and webpages you had found.

“Looks like someone’s been busy.”

Looking up from your desk, you smiled at Alison and waved her into your room, gesturing for her to take a seat anywhere she wanted.

“Yeah, I’ve found a bit but not much, though these books look promising.”

You pointed to the large pile of old looking books next to you before turning around to fully face her.

“What’s up anyways?” You asked.

“Nothing, I woke up not long ago and saw you were awake.” She smiled.

You hummed and nodded your head, looking at the window before turning back to her.

“Is your dad awake?”

“Yeah, but he left awhile ago, left a note.”

Again you nodded and went back to what you were doing which made Alison frown a little as she looked at you.

It was easy to see you hadn’t slept, your bed was still made, and she knew you made it every morning, you were still wearing the same clothes from last night, and there was a number of snacks and drinks scattered across your desk.

She also recalled something in a text her dad had sent her about your light being on whenever he walked past your room a few times last night.

“(Y/N)?”

You stopped again and turned around to face her, titling your head a little as you waited for her to carry on.

“Have you slept?”

“No, I wasn’t tired last night.”

“That’s not healthy (Y/N).” She scolded lightly.

Again you just shrugged and turned back around, and she sighed a little as she shook her head at you.

She grabbed her phone from her pocket and sent the pack a text, saying you hadn’t slept.

They kept a log of things you did, reckless things, that to anyone else would’ve just seen like normal teenager things to do, but they all knew it was more than that.

Last week you nearly broke your arm helping Stiles, and if it wasn’t for the fact Scott, Stiles and Chris had dragged you to Malissa, you wouldn’t have bothered to get it checked out.

Setting her phone down, she watched you for a few moments before walking over and placing her hand over the book you were reading.

Looking up, you rose a brow at Alison.

“Come on, let’s at least get breakfast.”

You thought for a second.

“Yeah, I can go for food. Where to?”

“That cafe you like?” Alison offered.

You beamed happily at that and she left so you could shower and change before you guys made your way to the cafe.

Stiles, Scott and Issac were there waiting and you slid into the booth next to the two werewolves.

“Where’s Lydia?” Stiles asked.

“Said she’d be here in a few.” You replied.

You didn’t have school for a while yet, so you thought inviting everyone to breakfast before going to classes would be nice.

And it was, you all talked and joked like normal teenagers, then you all headed to the school were you had to spend the day suffering in class.

You could barely keep yourself awake, and by lunch time everyone else had noticed this as well.

“Just go home.” Scott said gently.

“Yeah, I’ll bring your work by later, I’m sure coach won’t care.” Issac nodded.

You waved the pair off.

“It’s fine, nothing serious.” You yawned.

“You’re basically falling asleep in your lunch, go home.” Stiles said.

You shook your head at him.

“No, it’s fine.”

“You’re exhausted, you’re overworking yourself (Y/N), this isn’t good. You’re going to make yourself sick, or burnout.” Lydia scolded.

You shrugged a little as you nibbled on a bit of your lunch, gazing out the window at some birds that were flying around.

“So what? Doesn’t really matter.” You replied.

“It does, you’re worrying everyone.” Alison said.

“Who’s their to worry? Clearly not my family, plus with the parent teacher conference coming up I’d much rather just stay focused, you guys are all going to be busy that night and we’ve got a deadline for the night after.”

You pushed your lunch away and stood up.

“Anyways, gotta run, need to ask Peter and Derek some questions, tell coach I’m sick or whatever he won’t even notice I’m gone.”

With that, you left and they all shared a look of wordy as they watched you leave the building.

You drove to Derek’s place and shot him a text saying you were coming up before you made your way up to the loft.

Letting yourself in, you spotted the pair around the desk in the middle of the room and you walked over, taking a seat on the edge of it.

“And to what do we owe the pleasure?” Peter smirked.

“Just got some questions about some stuff I read last night if you guys got time?”

“Sure, but first things first we need to speak with you.” Derek said.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at him.

“You guys aren’t my parents, don’t scold me like I’m some kid okay? I can take care of myself, now, will you listen to what I found or not?”

“Only if you tell us why you’re being so reckless with your well-being.” Peter said.

You scoffed a little bit and stood up, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked at the two older werewolves.

“It’s none of your business, and who are you to judge my choices anyways? You’re a murderous psychopath and Derek is on the run from like every cop between here and freaking narnia.”

“We’re just worried.” Derek sighed.

“Well I don’t need you to worry about me, now can we please get down to it.” You snapped.

Finally the two agreed, and you ran everything you had found by them, asking them a few questions you thought might help your scavenger hunt.

After a few hours you had more information and you finally left to go back to your temporary home with Alison and her father.

Walking in, you made your way to your room but stopped when you saw Alison and Lydia sat on your bed.

“What?”

“We just want to talk.” Lydia said gently.

“Well I don’t want to talk, I’m busy.”

You sat down and you desk and narrowed down your piles of books into just a few.

“Fine, just listen. We’re all worried about you (Y/N), okay? You act like it’s you against the world, like the world is out to get you and you need to prove something to everyone.” Alison said.

You tried your best to ignore them.

“The truth is, no one is out to get you okay? We just want to help you, we want you to take care of yourself. And we know you’re not used to people being like this towards you, and we’re sorry about that, and that you had to go through that, but we mean it.”

You froze.

“You’re not my family…” you grumbled.

“We might not be your biological family, but family is much more than blood. You’re part of the pack (Y/N), and this pack is family.” Lydia said softly.

You slowly turned around to face them, and the pair of them smiled at you.

“We are your family, and we’re always going to be your family, okay?” Lydia asked.

You stared at them both for a moment.

“Why?”

“Because we love you moron, everyone loves you, even Peter even though he’s a hardass. Now will you please get some sleep, we can do whatever research it is you’re doing.” Alison said.

You sighed, and finally nodded your head.

You were exhausted and you really wanted to sleep, so you filled them in on what it is they were looking for.

While Alison took your spot at your desk, Lydia made sure you actually got into your bed, and she sat next to you as you laid down staring at the ceiling.

You reached out and took her hand, mumbling a small thanks as you quickly drifted to sleep

[norman-fucking-reedus]

If you had told me seven months ago when I decided to sit down and watch twd that I would become obsessed with a dirty redneck to the point that it revives my writing era then I would've probably only believed like 5% of what you're saying

SEVEN WHOLE MONTHS AGO I was literally just some girl who had just gotten released from crazy people land and was rotting away in my bedroom at my dad's house logging into ao3 after having not used it for maybe years just to start reading x reader fics on a character I had literal just learned his name

SEVEN ENTIREE MONTHS AGO I downloaded tumblr, confused as fuck as I made my account to read more smut fics about a dude I watched fall off a cliff because I got a lady boner from all his whimpering and heavybreathing

I never expected for so many people to like my stuff... I started writing literally back in 2020 during the lockdown because I was a freaky ahh 12 year old who got access to a computer and wattpad 😭 y'all have always been so so super sweet to me and I've met some of the best people on here. I promise I’ll get my writing groove back eventually, I’ve got a few things in my drafts that have my attention and have hopes that something will be finished within the next few weeks

I love each and every one of you 🥹🫶🏾 I’m literally just some girl on the internet who pulls everything I write directly out my ass with the hopes that its remotely decent. So far I guess I'm doing a pretty good job

[simplysolo]

simply’s back! (sort of?)

hey everyone! just making this post to give a little life update to those wondering what’s been going on

1. I am feeling much much much better since when I had initially logged off for a bit; I wasn’t really used to being on here so often for so long, so I needed a bit of time off to adjust. Biggest “thank you”s and “I love you very “much”s to my mutuals and everyone who sent me messages with support, I don’t even have the words to express my gratitude for the amount of love you guys have shown. Kisses for all of you xx

2. Thank you all for the love you’ve shown to my art while I was gone!! One of my posts had reached 1.2k notes which is mind-blowing, so thanks for all the support everyone’s shown for this blog

3. I did make some more art while I was out! Keeping consistent with sketching was grounding me a bit every day, and it has been so great to be able to reconnect with my art lately. More to come! Dropping some silly sketches just for funsies:

4. I got to watch Dune Pt. 2 opening weekend (which was seriously the only thing keeping me going at one point) and HO BOY was I kicked with inspiration to write again! No promises, but maybe I’ll start posting some of my writing on here if anything comes to fruition

5. I say I’m “sort of” back because, well, Ramadan starts on Monday; I wanna take advantage of this month to the best of my ability, so I probably won’t be interacting much on here for the next month. That doesn’t mean I won’t be hovering around, though, so feel free to hit me up anytime to talk!

6. With that said, I’m gonna be catching up on as many of my moots’ wonderful fics as I can this weekend!! pls don’t mind me popping into your inboxes/dms every now and then to gush about you all ❤️

ok i think that’s it. will edit if i remember anything!

[voidlightcomix]

Feast Your Eyes: Fandom Cookbook Recipe Review #4

Visiting Tstxoke’u - Avatar: The Official Cookbook of Pandora

Tonight's menu: sourced from Avatar: The Official Cookbook of Pandora

Appetizer: Totem Dip, pg 140

Main Dish: Supercharged Steak, pg 46

Side Dish: Shoreline Salad, pg 116

Full review under the cut!

Aurum Leuci’s Log:

[Begin recording.] Hey. Aurum Leuci here. Finally, I’m somewhere I recognize. I made it to the Multiversal Culinary Research Institute’s outpost on Pandora, and finally managed to figure out what was wrong with the portal generator- the navigation crystal had a hairline fracture and would’ve exploded after a few more jumps. Thankfully, since I made it here, I’m having a new crystal shipped in from off-world. Should be here in a day or so, and once I’m sure the machine is fixed I’m going back to my usual jet-setting habit across the multiverse. In the meantime, I’m visiting an old friend, a Na’vi from the Sarentu clan, who goes by Tstxoke’u, which I think vaguely translates to “nameless”. It’ll be a nice little while to catch up with an old friend. I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you, and bring back some shell fruit if I can. Aurum Leuci out. [End log.]

Please see this post for my full review scale!

Appetizer: Totem Dip

RATING:

Difficulty: 5/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 5/5

Time: 5/5

End Result: 5/5

TOTAL RATING: 25/25

Okay, so, this dip (and the freshly-made pita that was also part of the recipe) was the best part of this meal. The dip itself is delicious, it’s garlicky and creamy and the earthy flavor of the beets really balances it all out. The red makes it very visually striking, and topped with parsley and a little feta, it’s really quite a centerpiece. It was surprisingly easy to substitute in vegan ingredients for the yogurt and cheese. The only difficulty I had with this recipe is that the garlic cloves I was originally using turned into literal coal in my oven (that was on me), so I ended up substituting in quite a bit of garlic powder. Regardless, it’s a great dish, and the pita recipe included makes just enough for a small family meal (one for each of us). Definitely making it again in the future- super, super tasty. And even though you’ll definitely have leftovers, it’ll be good spread on some toast or crackers. (I’m looking forward to having some for lunch tomorrow.)

Main Dish: Supercharged Steak

RATING:

Difficulty: 5/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 4/5

Time: 5/5

End Result: 2/5

TOTAL RATING: 21/25

I really, really wanted to like this dish. It’s innovative, not something I’ve seen done before, and the cookbook made it look really, really delicious. But… in terms of how it turned out, I really don’t have many good things to say about it. The roasted beans and tomatoes were good, but the cabbage steak itself… left a lot to be desired. Aside from… how it actually turned out, this recipe loses one point on “immersion” because it was, for some reason, in the “RDA rations“ section of the book. While there’s a lot of great vegetable dishes in there, this one seems the least like what Earth soldiers would eat on an alien planet! The fact that it fit in so perfectly with regular Na’vi dishes like the totem dip and shoreline salad makes it kind of a weird placement. Otherwise, this recipe was pretty easy. I think if I ever make it again I’m putting it in the oven for longer.

Side Dish: Shoreline Salad

RATING:

Difficulty: 1/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 5/5

Time: 1/5

End Result: 0/5

TOTAL RATING: 12/25

Hooooo boy. Okay. The Shoreline Salad. It looks impressive, and it was genuinely very easy and quick to make. It sucked (none of my family liked it, and I have texture and taste issues with seaweed. I TRIED to like it, I promise) and really could’ve used more flavor. Even with the hot pepper flakes, it was kind of just… a bland, slimy mess. But wait, you’re probably saying. AJ, if it was easy and quick to make, why did you rank the “difficulty” and “time” scores so low?

Well. My dad was helping me clean up and dispose of some leftovers (mostly cabbage), and we also had a lot of the Shoreline Salad left, so he put it down the garbage disposal.

Do not do this. Seaweed, unlike cabbage, will swell up and clog your whole sink. It will take you an hour of pouring vinegar and baking soda down your drains to remove it. An hour you will never get back. An hour you will hold against seaweed for all time. We did not know this when we put it down the sink.

We did eventually get it clean, but given how bland and.. kind of gross it was? This recipe wasn’t worth it at all. Be advised, if it weren’t believably something that fish people would eat, I would rank this much, much lower. Make at your own risk.

Tune in next Wednesday (6/19/24) for another fandom cookbook review!

Thanks for tuning in the past couple weeks! Your likes and reblogs mean a lot to me. :) - AJ

[yum-is]

Laika - Short Story

[Personal Log - Subject 12.1.9.11.1 - Barkley, L.] - 03.11.2057

The launch was successful. That should be obvious. That’s the nice thing about personal logs, I can say obvious stuff like that without having to deal with condescending scientists being, well, condescending.

I’ve never been beyond the reinforced walls of Mos Station. I’ve spent so long staring out the viewports and wondering at what might be waiting beyond the glow of dead stars. The closest star is still Sol, perched at the center of our home system. I can’t turn to see it. I’m not allowed to move out of this chair except to briefly stand.

In the old days, back on Earth, launches were supposedly strenuous things. I’m not a scientist, but I’ve done my research. I know all about g forces and atmospheric interference and thrust. Well. In theory. I don’t fully understand it.

Maybe that’s what makes this all so incredible. This mission is going to be the farthest a sentient, living being has ever traveled away from our home planet. It’s a groundbreaking scientific achievement. Hundreds of millions of dollars have gone into this, years of engineering and training. A scientist would’ve been the obvious choice for the mission. Maybe one that’s actually seen Earth.

Instead, they chose me.

I’m not sure why, but it makes me feel special. I’m just another orphan from miner parents on Mos Station. There are hundreds of us. They chose three of us. Only one of us would actually be launched.

And they chose me.

The wires are kind of itchy under my bandages. I won’t scratch. I promised I wouldn’t. See? I can be good. I’ll be good. You trained me for this.

I can do it. I’m a big kid. I’m almost 13.

[Personal Log - Subject 12.1.9.11.1 - Barkley, L.] - 04.11.2057

Day two! I haven’t scratched and I’ve sat still and I’m doing my best.

Would I be able to see Mos Station if I turned around?

I won’t. I said I wouldn’t.

But could I physically see it?

It’s really empty out here. Everything is dotted with the twinkling lights of far off stars. Most of those stars are dead long before the light reaches us. It reminds me of a graveyard. I’ve never seen one, but the book the librarian lent me last year when I tried to get out of the cold while the environmental controls were purged mentioned them.

People on Earth bury their dead. It seems strange to me. Is it to help the bodies decompose? Or is there some kind of spiritual meaning? Out here, we cremate and eject the dead. Your name gets added to the wall of remembrance if you’re rich enough. We don’t have enough space to bury our dead under stones.

The food you give me out here isn’t very good. I’ll eat it. Of course I will. You had me eating it before I left anyways. It just isn’t very good. But that isn’t the point, is it? It’s just meant to keep me alive.

Will you make me borscht when I get back?

[Personal Log - Subject 12.1.9.11.1 - Barkley, L.] - 05.11.2057

I’m tired. I don’t really want to sleep. You strapped me down so that nothing I do would mess with your test results too badly, but I’m still scared that sleeping will jerk a wire out of place or something. I don’t want to mess up.

Home isn’t a place, it’s people. That’s how the saying goes, right? I never really got that. It’s hard to think of people as home when you don’t have people or a place. Just wherever you can catch some peace or safety.

I think I get it now.

You love me, right? You said we were family. You patted my head after you strapped me in, told me to hang on. Told me you’d see me when I got back. You looked sad, the same way you did when I was chosen for this.

Do you miss me?

I think I miss you.

I’ll be good, I promise, I won’t scratch or fidget or play with any of the blinking lights.

It’s really dark out here now. I can’t see the glow of Mos Station on the edges of the window anymore. How far am I? How alone?

I am alone, right? The first to go this far out. To see this view, the glimmering expanse of the unknown. I read that phrase somewhere. It fits here, to describe the tapestry of the universe that hasn’t been explored yet. I’ve never seen a tapestry. 

Will you show me when I get back?

[Personal Log - Subject 12.1.9.11.1 - Barkley, L.] - 06.11.2057

It’s getting hot. Is that supposed to happen? There’s a glow along the edges of the window. It’s different from the lights of the station. It’s warm and fuzzy around the edges, like the carpeting in our room. We all had to share, you know.

Why did you choose me? You never said.

I’m scared.

“Buck up, Curly. Come on, Chatterbox! You promised to be good, remember?”

I know, I know. But it’s so hot. It’s getting hard to think. I promised not to scratch or jabber on and on, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Am I still good? Do you still love me?

The metal burns. It’s getting really hot. A new light turned on. It’s blinking and red and really annoying.

I can’t tell if my ears are ringing or if there’s an alarm going off.

I know I said I’d see you when I got back, but I don’t know if I can do that. You said, I’d come back, right? 

Lemon said you were lying to us. Said we were lab rats, expendable.

Did you lie?

I’ve been so good. Please don’t lie. Please come get me.

Is it alright if I close my eyes for a minute? It’s getting brighter in here. The window fogged up. Is it supposed to do that?

I’m so tired. Are you making borscht? Will you pat my head again?

I’m sorry. I tried. I’m just so….so….

[Subject 12.1.9.11.1 - Barkley, L.] - NO FURTHER DATA

[aspenwriter]

SizeDates

(A comm for @AurumDistant on Twitter)

“An app that makes you change sizes?” asked Mark.

“Oh come on Mark, it doesn’t like ‘change’ your actual size, it just does so in a virtual room in the metaverse” said the tomboyish redhead in front of him, Sarah.

“My question is why, Sarah. Why not just a normal dating room in the metaverse?”

“Oh come ON Mark, it’s 2068! What’s even the point in just dating like your grandma did with their apps on their phones like some sort of caveman”

“I think grandma dated pretty nicely in the normal world, evidence being that I am uh, here, Sarah”

Both friends laughed. It was a faint sound, deafened by the unfathomably structure of the tower city they inhabited.

By this time in our history most cities looked like this one. Years of overpopulation and the destruction of our natural environments lead to the engineering of these megastructures. Self sufficient, towering metal spires that reached the clouds from the outside, with an industrial super complex that reached deep underground like roots. Sarah and Mark were idly chatting on the outside of their middle management office, still under the spires, still without seeing the sky.

It was no wonder most people didn’t like to meet and date outside the metaverse. Many companies had tried and failed to build one in the early 21th century. They had just recently successfully built one. Initially a platform for furries to chat in Virtual Reality, it quickñy expanded to the general public as a means to escape the quite frankly horrible reality they inhabited.

“You’re still not convincing me, Sarah, look at this point in the advertising”

Sarah leaned in to see Mark’s phone. He was pointing with his finger to a spot that proudly advertised “Let loose of control! Let the big one handle everything”

“Uhm, yeah, that’s the point, Mark” said Sarah.

“What does it exactly mean?” asked Mark.

“It means that if you log in as tiny and you match with someone they get to decide where you spawn, what your size is, and even what you’re wearing, as far as I know”

“Why, Sarah, would I let someone control that?”

“Oh, come ON AGAIN, it’s part of the fantasy, just the sweet release of control”

“I’m more concerned about the sweet release of death” Said Mark “what if I match with a total psycho and they crush me, eat me, or worse, Look, it says right here in the add”

He was pointing to a part indicating ‘TOTAL simulation, every sensation possible in every scale!”

“You know ‘every sensation possible’ doesn’t fill me up with confidence” said Mark.

“Look” said Sarah “that’s again just part of the fantasy”

“You know that if you get killed in one of these simulations-” 

“Doesn’t work like this here” interrupted Sarah “SizeDates doesn’t allow for permadeath, if you get killed it logs you off right after the conscience gets to experience death, so it’s just like waking up from one of those dreams where you’re falling down”

“You sound *very* experienced in this topic” said Mark.

“Weeeeeell I *might* have teased a couple tiny boys a little too hard…” Said Sarah, hiding a blush.

“I KNEW IT!” exclaimed Mark “You just want to get me into this thing so I can match with you and you get to do everything you want with me right!?”

“Uh, I was just going to suggest exactly that, good job in figuring that out, smartass”

Mark sighed. It was true that he and Sarah had kind of a situationship by this point. And by situationship, it was mostly Sarah teasing him whenever she had the chance. Even being a little risqué at the office and all. Not that Mark minded it in the slightest.

“Alright, I’ll try your stupid app…” he said, slightly defeated.

“You won't be disappointed!” said Sarah “just make sure to match with *me*”

“Can’t promise that, what if someone is hotter than you huh?”

“Are you sure you want to risk it?” said Sarah, grinning.

“I probably will” said Mark, hiding a blush by turning from her. The whole conversation was a big tease. Mark was into size play a *lot*. This app was everything he had ever dreamed of. It was extremely difficult hiding it from Sarah.

“Well, see you soon little guy” said Sarah, smiling and turning away too. They, sadly, had to take the metro in opposite directions from one another.

The whole ride home, Mark thought only of the app.

Then finally, his apartment. Located on a megastructure within a megastructure. Tower 27. Almost a tower city within a tower city, it housed half a million souls and it had every amenity possible. Mark only wished they could move his office here.

Then, in his one room, one bathroom apartment, he jumped to his desk and put his headset on. He logged into the metaverse, then into the app, and made his account.

Surprisingly, for the barebones profile he had made, not one but *five* matches jumped right in within the hour.

The first was Alex. Brown skinned, and with short black hair. And damn, a gymnast with some *excellent* muscles. She could probably break Mark in half like a plank of wood in a kung fu movie, even without size changing shenanigans going.

Then there was Charlie. A brunette, beautiful girl. She looked like a princess out of a fairytale, with a delicate body and a face sculpted by the gods. In fact, just by the incredibly beautiful dress she was wearing, she might as well have been a princess.

Next to her on the list was Jessica. Old enough to be Mark’s mom. And yet the thought of being around tiny with that lady with the neon red coloured hair, probably to be ‘in with the youths’ really excited him

But after her came Angel and frankly he did look like an angel. He was a boy, still in college. With a blonde, long straight hair that reached his almost feminine waist in the skirt he was proudly wearing.

And finally, there was Sarah herself. The teasing co-worker, the one that got him into this, and his friend.

True, Sarah said that he should match with her… but he wasn’t expecting four other prospects.

Mark meditated on it for a while. Breathed in deeply. And made his choice.

—

Mark clicked on Alex’s profile.

He was instantly transported to an unknown, alien surface.

It was both hard and soft… difficult to describe. Soft to the touch but hard once you pressed on it.

And it was also wet, drops of an unknown, salty liquid the size of Mark’s head were all around him.

Just what was this place?

Oh, and he just noticed he was also completely naked.

“Hey shrimp!” said a booming voice from above”

Mark snapped back to reality and looked all around him. Behind him, and behind small breasts hidden by a sport’s bra, was the smiling face of the giant tomboy.

“Y-you’re A-alex?” asked Mark. Sure he was prepared for the shock of size changing. but not to get too personal right away.

“Y-y-y-y-y-you’re Alex?” mocked Alex “Of course I am, shrimp, on whose profile did you think you clicked, dumbass?”

“I-I-I-” started Mark, embarrassed beyond belief.

“Tch!” exclaimed Alex “a dozen or so boy toys wanted to match with me and I clicked on the profile of the one that couldn’t fucking talk, great choice Alex”

Mark slapped his cheeks with both of his hands, his way to get his shit together. This allowed him to finally notice he was standing on Alex bare, sweaty abs, and that they were in what he assumed was her room, or well, a simulation of it. It was a little smaller than his own. Alex must be a factory worker down some levels in the tower, he thought.

“Ugh, why are you standing around thinking so much, shrimp, get to work already!”

“Wor-” began Alex, before he was silenced by Alex’s massive hand coming down slamming him against her abs, pressing down. Muffling every sound that came from Mark’s mouth.

“Come on boy toy, lick” commanded Alex.

Mark protested. Frankly pathetic sounds that barely reached Alex, as Mark’s mouth was firmly pressed against her sweaty skin. But the sounds were audible enough to register in Alex’s brain as a protest.

“You upper level shrimps are always so, so fucking uppity, you’re not in control here shrimp, now be a good boy and get fucking licking” said Alex, sternly, and pressing Mark even harsher.

Mark swallowed his pride. After all this *was* a fantasy. He didn’t have to have any shame. Alex would play around with him a little, and then they would both have a good time and probably get along really well down the line. Hell, perhaps they would have a date in real life if he did well this time!

So he obeyed, and started licking. Alex's abs were salty, from all the sweating of course. But it didn’t prevent Mark from worshiping them. In fact, he was getting hard from it.

“Yeah… that’s right” said Alex “good boy!”

Mark’s hormones got wild with that praise. He licked even harder, putting a lot of effort into it. Kissing the abs. Soon Alex’s hand relaxed and let him do the thing on his own. He was getting a lot into it.

“Hmm, good start…” Said Alex “But you’re still very, very far away from your true prize shrimp…” she said, her hand now slowly pushing Mark downwards, to her briefs.

Mark crawled there, slowly, like an insect. He wanted to enjoy every second of it. And Alex was allowing him.

Under the briefs was a bush of her hair. Alex didn’t help him at all in this phase, gleefully enjoying Mark struggling to lift the fabric just to get in. He had to use both arms just to get his upper torso there, and he had to work a lot with his legs to crawl in.

The bush was unkempt. Musky. At this scale, roughly the size of a pinky finger, the whole place seemed like an alien cave. Above him, the fabric of Alex’s sports briefs pressed him hard against her skin, and further in, the bush of hair proved a tremendous obstacle for him.

“You’re way too slow, shrimp” said Alex, her booming voice muffled down here.

Mark heeded the implicit command and crawled faster, putting a lot more effort into it. Adrenaline was now coursing through his veins just by how aroused he was. Here, in Alex’s most private place at a gulliverian scale. Fuck, he hadn’t realized how much he wanted this.

“Lemme help you out there, boy toy” Said Alex. Pressing him down in a way that propelled him forward.

The smell of her juice was getting stronger. Alex was wet, as he was hard. Her hand was of great help. And then, finally at the end of that small forest, was the wet labia. Mark didn’t struggle here at all, as the place was wet enough to slip right in.

But he wasn't meant to get there.

Alex’s hand blocked him as she started playing with herself, roughly, just like she wanted. Mark was a spectator to all this, as Alex’s other hand pinned him down in her bush. A lot of hair got into his mouth in the process, making it hard to breath.

“Yeah.. yeah…” Alex said, to herself mostly, she didn’t care that much about Mark at this point.

She lifted her briefs, Mark could finally breathe again, but this was short lived. Alex started using his squirming body as a toy, pressing him, using him to massage the sensitive skin of her bush.

“Fuck… fuck.. FUCK!” exclaimed Alex, about to reach climax.

She hadn’t noticed, at all, that she played with Mark a little too roughly, and snapped his spine in two.

“Ah… AH!” she sighed in the pleasure of orgasm.

She was breathing heavily, Alex was nowhere to be seen, the poor bastard probably just re-spawned in his room.

“Fuck Alex…” she said, leaning back in her bed “you broke a perfectly good looking toy again…”

—-

Mark clicked on Charlie’s profile.

He was greeted by a wooden surface. He looked around. He was in a room of sorts. A giant room.

Mark was, by virtue of living in a megastructure, already accustomed to big spaces but this one was very different, as it was a cubic structure, where all things were completely in another scale. Mark noticed he was on what appeared to be the desk of the room, and far away he could see a bed, some posters from popular v-tubers, anime figures the size of statues in a shelf, and…

Charlie?

She didn’t look at all like in the picture. While the face was still like a princess out of a fairytale, and she had a delicate, elegant body, she had sharp features,  her hair was short, boyishly so. Also, instead of the dress from the pic, she was just wearing a black t-shirt and some jeans.

“H-hey… there seems to be some kind of mistake here…” said Mark.

“Pfft” said Charlie, with a boyish tone “Nope, you just got catfished that’s all”

“Wha-” began Mark, being instantly cut off by Charlie’s hand grabbing him from the desk with little consideration for his safety or wellbeing.

“The app was stupidly easy to hack” said Charlie “They have like no countermeasures at all”

“Who the fuck are you” Said Mark, muffled by Charlie’s hand completely closed on him.

“Oh? I’m Charlie alright, I just used a pic I grabbed from the internet and said I was a girl, that’s the easiest way to nick some cute boys like you!” said Charlie, very proud of himself.

“Wha-? LET ME OUT IMMEDIATELY” exclaimed Mark.

“Ah, I love when you little ones beg, it’s soooo adorable” said Charlie “Let’s take a good look at you”

He opened his hand, and Mark immediately took the chance to jump off it, to the floor, to get killed in the app and re-spawn in the safety of his apartment. But as soon as he even got into a jumping off position, Charlie got uncomfortably close and whispered.

“Oh, just so you know, the hack also overrides the death inhibition, little one”

The words felt like iron nails nailing themselves on all his limbs, paralyzing him completely.

“Also” Charlie continued “Obviously the log off function is turned off, it was easy too, this way we can get *real* emotions flowing, won’t you agree?”

Mak didn’t know what to do. He just stood there, frozen on the twink’s hand, while his captor just grinned, rejoicing in his misery.

“Aw, what’s wrong little one?” he asked, in a mocking tone “cat got your tongue?”

“Th-this is *extremely* fucked up” said Mark “release me n-now” he said not noticing his voice was cracking and he was stuttering, all to Charlie’s delight.

“Say pretty please” said Charlie.

It was humiliating enough to be in this position, but fuck, anything to get rid of this psycho, Mark thought.

“P-pretty please” he said.

“Good start, now grovel” said Charlie.

The command felt cold on Mark’s skin. He was trembling. But the fear of what Charlie might do to him if he displeased him in some way was more terrifying than whatever humiliation he had to endure to get back at the safety of his house. He fell to his knees and said it again.

“P-pretty please…”

“Pretty please what?”

Whatever the fuck he meant, a title? Mark thought.

“Pretty please, sir-”

“Ugh why do they always go with fucking ‘sir’ goddamit!” exclaimed Charlie, exasperated.

“D-did I do something wrong” pleaded Mark, covering his face.

“I hate being called ‘sir’ FUCK!” he said “I’m not my fucking dad! I’m not that old!”

Mark was trying to hide his tears. He felt like picking the wrong dialogue option in a game, rolling a bad skill roll with his dice and all. Only a million times worse.

“Wh-what was I supposed to call you?!” Said a terrified little man.

Charlie was completely ignoring him. He was searching something in his room, that perfectly simulated replica of Charlie’s own room. He quickly found it.

A fleshlight.

Mark knew immediately what he was thinking. His head was working like an animalistic computer, checking for every possible alternative to what was about to happen.

“I just want to be called ‘princess’, like my boyfriend does, fuck!”

“H-how was I supposed to-” he was cut off by two giant lips. A long kiss, coming from Charlie that was impossible to resist.

“You’re a cute toy, if you survive I want to play a little more with you”

And then Mark noticed he was falling down.

Soon enough, he was swallowed up by the all encompassing rubber of the fleshlight. It was a dark, soft pit, no light entered that place. Mark tried to climb out of the rubber but the place was lubricated by some sort of oily substance. Mark just slipped, landing straight in the bottom.

Then, Charlie’s titanic dick pierced through the entrance of the cave. Thrusting violently against the rubber. Trapping Mark between it and the oily walls of the fleshlight.

Mark struggled, desperately trying to climb it, but for every little step his body made, Charlie’s dick pushed him further down, until he was fighting for his life against the tip of it. But it didn’t work. Mark’s feeble punches and pushes only made Charlie harder and harder and his thrusts more quick and passionate.

“N-no…” whispered an enfeebled Mark, bruised and with some broken bones already. “P-please…”

But he was too tired to fight anymore, and when Charlie finally came with a titanic moan, Mark’s lungs filled up almost instantly with his cum.

He coughed and twitched for some minutes, but it was already over.

Charlie removed the fleshlight, with the lifeless virtual avatar of Mark still stuck to his dick.

“Pfft” he said “What a waste of a cute boy”.

He removed the corpse uncaringly from his flesh and tossed it away, at least he hoped his boyfriend was having more fun with the hacked virtual room than he had.

—

Mark clicked on Jessica’s profile.

He was transported to a soft, hard to stand on surface, in fact, in the very instant he got there he lost his balance and fell on his back.

“Be careful there you silly boy” said a booming, deep, yet very feminine voice.

Mark looked around. The surface he was on was a mattress. In fact, he was on a bed. The biggest bed he had ever seen, in the biggest room he had ever seen. It was so big it could fit his entire Tower. But his astonishment was brief, he needed to know the source of that booming voice, and it took him next to no effort to find it.

In front of Mark was a woman. She was wearing a full office attire. Complete from pants to shirt to blazer and a tie. All of her screamed ‘your stuck up boss’ if it wasn’t for her hair dyed neon red. This kind of hair dyes were all the fashion now in 2068. That gave her the vibes of ‘divorcee trying dating again’.

Mark was lost looking at the massive woman. All to her own amusement.

“What’s wrong baby?” Said Jessica “Am I too much for you to handle?”

“N-n-not at all!” said Mark getting his bearings together “just impressed at the whole scale of things, that’s all”

“Mhmmm” purred Jessica “I find it sooo much better than hitting on young men like you on a bar, so much needless chatter cut don’t you think?”

“Hmm, uhh, yeah Miss”

Jessica laughed.

“Come on Mark, this is not a classroom, don’t call me ‘miss’”

“Oh, uh, in that case what should I call you?” asked Mark, awkwardly.

“You will call me Mistress from now on, pet” said Jessica, grabbing Mark by the waist “now let Mistress have a good look at you”

She snapped her fingers and suddenly Mark’s virtual avatar was completely naked. He remembered the bigs got all the control in this space.

“Y-y-yes Mistress!” squeaked Mark, not used to being handheld at all, and less to be naked around a woman so fast, and even less to enter into a dom/sub dynamic so quickly, but as Jessica, or well, Mistress had said before, the size difference really cut up a lot of needless chatter”

“You’re veeeeery handsome, pet” said Jessica, purring those words. Mark felt like being circled by a panther.

“T-than-” he began, before being cut by his Mistress.

“Good boys don’t speak” interrupted Jessica, not lifting her powerful stare from him “Good boys only say ‘woof’ and ‘yes Mistress’”

Jessica was still holding Mark by the waist, so she used the chance to shake him up a little, not to cause him any damage, but to firmly establish her dominion over him.

“Are you a good boy, pet?” She asked

“Yes Mistress” Mark said, obediently.

“Are you going to obey me?” she asked, again.

“Yes Mistress!” said an enthusiastic Mark.

“Good, because admittedly you’re too cute to have to discipline already” she said “Now let me have a taste of you”

Mark thought he misheard that final part but no, Jessica leaned in for a kiss at a titanic scale, that evolved quickly into her licking and savoring every part of Mark’s naked body. The simulation was perfect in every way. All the minute details of Mark’s virtual avatar felt handcrafted to Jessica’s tongue.

“Mistress had a veeeery tiring day at work today, pet…” she whispered into Mark’s ear, and even at this scale, the whisper came off as soft and stimulating to his mind “I want to unwind, you will help me…”

“Y-yes Mistress…” Said a Mark that was so horny he could barely think anymore.

“I want you…” said Jessica “to be a good boy for me… will you?”

“Yes Mistress!”

“Good, good…” Said Jessica, leaning back. With the saliva covered little man still in her hand, gently letting him down on her crotch.

“Go in” she commanded.

Mark was about to protest. You expect me to do all the work myself? To unzip your pants and just crawl in? but he kept those words to his mind. Good boys only said one thing.

“Y-yes Mistress” he half sighed, half exclaimed.

Then he got to work. She gently unzipped her Mistress’ pants, leaving an entrance into her most intimate places. Then he crawled in, fighting against the fabric of the pants. Each little move he made in his Mistress’ panties sent echoes of pleasure down her spine, causing her to moan and shift her position, changing the environment completely for Mark sometimes.

Then, he finally got under her panties, greeted by his Mistress’ titanic labia. He didn’t know what to do precisely at this moment. Nothing in your life prepares you to your first confrontation with pussy on the gulliverian scale. Luckily for him, his Mistress got to decide for him.

Her titanic hand came from under the fabric and pushed him inwards into the flesh cave. The walls covered already in his Mistress’ fluids made it easy for him to go in.

He was now against her fingers and her pussy, going in and out in a thrusting motion. He wanted to do the best. He wanted to be a good boy and serve. He let loose of himself, giving his body up to the currents of his Mistress’ whims and desires.

He should have been more careful. His Mistress was very rough. And he soon began to lose his consciousness, as he could barely breathe so deep in.

On her side of things, Jessica moaned, moaned and squirted. Mark was already logged off by the app automatically to prevent death. Just in time as she let go of all of her juices.

While on the other side the violent log off made Mark jump on his own desk. Jessica slept well that night, and made sure to bookmark Mark’s profile for another session, down the line.

—

Mark clicked on Angel’s profile.

He was greeted by a completely alien landscape. It was dark, moist, and the smell was weird. It was like a large cave, roughly two meters tall and about fifty centimeters wide. Mark had to walk on his side.

But as soon as he began to move. His whole world trembled and rumbled like an earthquake that plunged him even further down the cave. He could finally see there was light coming from far away, from a slit-like opening. Mark could barely breathe in the dank place.

And then, as he finally touched the walls, he noticed they were made of flesh.

Outside of the flesh walls, Angel was reading his notifications, realizing that the ant-sized boy he requested finally arrived inside his dick. To be honest, the sensation was weird as fuck, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. The simulation was perfect, and his dick flesh was so sensitive that he could feel the boy’s little limbs fighting and trying to climb out.

“Tough luck twerp” Angel said out loud, with a voice as beautiful as a melody, although to Mark it sounded like a confusing boom.

Back in Angel’s dick, Mark hadn’t the slightest idea of where he was and wondered if it was a bug in the system, that maybe he had logged into a horror game room of sorts. Groaning, he opened the user interface to log off.

Only, the log off button was nowhere to be found.

Angel giggled, the twerp was probably panicking, maybe he already realized the app had been hacked. He could tell by the little one’s ever increasing erratic movements.

His giggles made Mark’s world shake, and he plunged deeper into the monolithic dick he was trapped in, although he didn’t quite know it was a dick yet.

Angel, for his part, relaxed in his bed. His boyfriend was right, hacking the game and undoing the death inhibitions truly made the experience a whole lot better. Fantasy turned reality by just altering a few lines of code, and it was untraceable!

He checked on the profile that matched with him again, this Mark guy seemed really cute… perhaps in another time he would have been glad to date him. But right now he was just an ant trapped in his dick.

And fuck, the sole thought of it made him harder and harder.

Back in Angel’s dick, the soft surface grew rigid and stiff, and the temperature rose by at least a noticeable amount. Mark screamed for help. But with their size difference in mind, there was no way Angel could have heard him. Not that he was going to help him out anyway.

Angel’s breathing got heavier. The cute boy was squirming and probably begging for his life down there. Fuck that was it.

He turned on his back and put a pillow between him and his dick.

Mark felt like he was on the worst kind of roller coaster, as his whole world turned suddenly upside down and the hardened walls closed on themselves, pinning him between them. He could barely move now, barely even squirm.

Angel started masturbating from his prone position by grinding his dick on the pillow. Thinking of the delicious suffering of his small victim. The thought of little Mark completely surrendered to his skyscraper dick made him into a horny beast. Grinding hard against the pillow, going back and forth. Letting himself go wild.

Meanwhile, Mark was about to pass out. He was getting nauseous from all the movement. But now the position of the flesh cave, bizarre as it was, made it easier to climb out. He just needed to crawl forward, the slit opening was just there.

“Fuck… oh fuck… oh god…” said Angel in between thrusts “don’t… don’t tell me you’re trying to escape little ant… my cute little ant”

Mark braced against his circumstances, summoning all of his strength just to get out of there. Wherever he was he would rather not be there. Whatever was outside of the slit opening was better than going down in this hell pit.

Angel felt all of his little efforts… thoroughly. They made his dick twitch. They made his whole body twitch with little sparks of pleasure.

He couldn’t keep it in for much longer.

“You’re… almost… there.. little…one…” he said. Once again, Mark only heard nonsensical booming sounds.

But Angel was right. Mark was just a couple feet away from getting out. He crawled forward, with the little strength remaining, screaming from the effort, adrenaline shooting through his body.

He managed to get one hand out.

But it was too late.

Angel was just about to climax when he came up with a really funny idea.

Still in between thrusts, he opened the hacked interface his boyfriend gifted him, where Mark’s size was displayed as merely 2 millimeters.

Wouldn’t it be funny to set the parameter to the lowest?

What if instead of millimeters, he set the stature at micrometers?

“Bye…bye…Mark…” he said “nice…knowing…ya”

And with a swipe of his finger, Mark shrunk further from the size of an ant to the size of an average bacteria.

At that moment, Angel came all over his cute bed.

Mark couldn’t begin to describe the utter shock of his new world when an immense fluid current came from behind him, propelling him at an enormous speed outside of his captor’s dick. There were sperm cells swimming alongside him in the current. Only then Mark realized where he was, sadly, this realization only lasted for the final milliseconds of Mark’s life, as he was soon obliterated by the impact against an unknown surface..

Angel sighed, overriding the death prevention might have been an extreme choice by his boyfriend but, looking down on the cumstain that held the remains of that cute boy. Angel had already forgotten his name and didn’t bother to check the app again.

Still, he smiled, winked and blew a kiss to the cumstain, where the utterly liquidated remains of that cute boy were, somewhere.

“Bye bye cutie, nice knowing ya”

—

Mark was pretty flattered by getting five matches on the get go but he still had this thing going with Sarah, so he obviously clicked on her profile.

He was on the floor. He immediately knew it was the floor because well, the massive furniture all around him. While the environment was completely and utterly alien to him, he managed to recognize it as a room.

“S-Sarah…” he called, still shocked from the size change.

“Up here silly” came Sarah’s familiar voice.

He looked around and noticed that the enormous things that his brain registered as black pillars in front of him were actually legs, and when he looked up, he saw Sarah’s grinning face looking back.

“Well, what do you think huh?” said Sarah

“It’s uhhh… I mean… It’s a bit weird to live out a fantasy don’t you think”

“Oh come on, little guy!” Sarah said, the words ‘little guy’ sending some kind of weird vibes down Mark’s spine. Pleasurable vibes nonetheless.

“I mean, I uh, I just mean” Mark stuttered. Perhaps it was best to go with the other picks, a total stranger would have been a lot less awkward than this.

“OH!” exclaimed Sarah “I see, you’re still not sure about it right?”

“I mean-”

Sarah cut him off by motioning with her hand for him to shut up while she searched on her phone.

“So what was THIS then?” she said, leaning down so that the billboard sized phone was visible to Mark.

It was their chat from a few days ago, Sarah had sent a pic of a girl pinning down a shrunken guy underfoot, with the caption ‘us lmao’. Mark liked the pic, as he reacted with a heart.

“Uhmmm…” started Mark.

“Well, you won’t know if you like it until you try it silly!” She said as she took her shoes off.

“Sarah don’t be hast-” Mark couldn’t finish the phrase, as the shoes Sarah kicked landed on some far place in the room and it sent shockwaves, tiny shockwaves, but noticeable enough they made him flinch,

And as he flinched, he had no way of resisting what was to come.

Sarah’s foot came down on him, it was as if a mountain had gently set itself on top of him. A mountain in the shape of a giant foot clad in socks.

Mark went down on his back and tried, acting totally on impulse, to fight the giant foot. All of this rather pathetic struggle made Sarah giggle.

“Aw, I hoped you would at least retain some dignity while snack sized…” Said Sarah, amused by the little fight Mark was putting up.

“Come on Sarah, it's not like I don’t like this but aren’t you being a little-”

“Shush your mouth, eat some feet loser” she said, gently accommodating her foot so that her big toe was directly above Mark’s face.

Mark cursed the advance of technology itself. The simulation of Sarah’s feet was damn near perfect, right down to the weird moistness of a foot that has been all day trapped in an office shoe to the smell of it.

He uttered some muffled protests. But as he opened his mouth, he let Sarah’s foot come in. A bad choice. As he could taste now the damp fabric that covered her foot.

“What was that little dude? Can’t heeeeear you!” Sarah cooed, gently from above.

Mark somehow managed to push Sarah’s toe away from himself enough so that he could turn his head and speak on his side,

“S-Sarah…” he said “alright, you were right”

“Hm? what was that?” Said Sarah, with the genuine curiosity of a kitten.

“You were right… I’m into this” and Mark wasn’t lying, he was already hard, something that Sarah had already noticed of course.

“Hmm” said Sarah “Not quite, lil’ dude, getting hard on a footjob is pretty standard stuff in size play”

“What do you mean?” asked Mark.

“You’re close to getting it, but not quite”

“Meaning?” insisted Mark.

“Size play…” explained Sarah “is not just about the size difference, it’s also about letting go of control”

She lifted her foot, releasing Mark, who immediately crawled back to a sitting position.

“Control?” he asked.

“Uh huh!” nodded Sarah “here, like this!”

She snapped her fingers and in an instant Mark's clothes disappeared completely. He was totally naked in front of her friend, co-worker, and situationship. With his little boner all out in the air. Mark instantly covered himself.

“You have to surrender control completely to me… that’s a big part of the experience”

Mark nodded “surrender control… okay…”

“Hey, don’t worry little dude, it’s just a simulation, remember?” Sarah said, reassuring him “besides it’s not like I'm going to crush you or whatever, relax”

Mark nodded again. Carefully, he laid down on his back again, still very hard, still very into it. He surrendered briefly at that moment. He closed his eyes and surrendered to Sarah.

He felt a joyous release. In that moment there was nothing else. No work tomorrow, no daily chores, no relationship problems. It was just him, in his little naked body, at the mercy of Sarah, everything completely at the mercy of Sarah.

“That’s it lil’ guy” said Sarah “Size play is all about that release of responsibility, to put all your trust in your big”

Mark opened his eyes, only to find Sarah’s foot above him coming down at meteor speed.

“SARAH YOU-”

He didn’t finish that sentence, he was completely squatted down. Mark respawned back at his room, fresh off feeling the shock of being crushed, with his breathing still accelerated.

Sarah sat back in her virtual bed and stretched as she prepared to log off.

“Of course, another big part is the betrayal of that trust” she said to herself. He was going to be pissed off, maybe. But he was going to want to try again.

Sarah just knew it.