#i will just leave this here since you put so much effort into this lol

[xxsabitoxx]

How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: All characters are 18+, this post is explicit smut. As if you couldn’t tell that from the title

A/N: Funny story, I forgot I already wrote this same concept last year… but since I didn’t realize until I finished writing this… imma post it anyways. But if you’d like to see my original thoughts on this topic, you can see them here with an additional 2 characters lol

Gojo Satoru

He is relentless, especially when he’s in the mood to go down on you. These little moods of his will have him between your legs for hours, multiple times a day. You always like to joke that he knows when you’re ovulating because somehow these little moods seem to fall in sync. If Satoru goes more than three days without you, it’s like he’s going through withdrawals. He’s skilled with his tongue, he’s able to move it in ways and speeds you didn’t know a man could. Typically he’s a tease, he’ll edge you until you have an orgasm so pathetic you can’t even call it one. Ya know, the kinds where you come and don’t feel that satisfaction, just the pulsating ache of needing more. But recently, Satoru discovered how much more fun it is to overstimulate you. He loves the way your finger’s bury in his hair and try to tug him off as he sucks on your clit until you’re sobbing and begging him to ease up. He’ll keep your thighs spread wide, large hands effortlessly keeping them in place while they desperately try and close. He’s also the type to see those “pineapple make’s your cum sweet” articles and come home with enough pineapples to feed a village. He’s not even embarrassed about his reasoning, even if it’s just a myth, his sweet tooth can’t pass up the opportunity. Satoru loves your natural taste, but you surprised him with edible lubes in various fruity and sweet flavors one night… you still recall seeing the sun rise. 

Geto Suguru

He’s a god at eating pussy and you can’t convince me otherwise. Suguru has always been about your pleasure over his, not to say he doesn’t have his selfish moments, but your pleasure is just so much fun to him. He loves the noise, the facial expressions, the smell, the taste. The first time he went down on you, you were convinced he was lying about it being his first time. The ability just came naturally to Suguru. Like Satoru, Suguru loves to tease you. He’ll focus all of his attention on your dripping entrance, only stimulating your clit if his nose bumps it. He loves the way you squirm, his nails leaving crescent shaped nail marks in the plump flesh of your thighs as he holds you in place. He loves your breathless gasps, his long hair tickling your thighs as he eats you out, only adding to the stimulation that’s making your toes curl. Suguru loves to make you beg, pulling his mouth away from your cunt to just barely flick his tongue over your clit. He’ll stop all together just to taunt you until you’re sobbing, begging him to do something. He has a whole album on his phone dedicated to you, most of the content being videos of him eating you out, some he even made you take just so he could see the camera shake with your effort to keep it straight and hear your noises better. He puts on a show for you, slurping and sucking and moaning just to feel your thighs tremble as you moan with him. 

Nanami Kento

Eating you out is a stress reliever for Nanami… so it happens like very fucking day. Lord help me this man will spend hours edging you, cheek pressed into your thigh as he lazily licks and nips at your cunt. He can’t think about anything but you when he is between our legs, moaning and whining his name like a beautiful lullaby. He’ll let you cum eventually, but for the time being you are completely at his mercy. Nanami is the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, especially on nights where he comes home late and you’re already passed out in bed. He’ll make out with your cunt honestly, licking and sucking and nipping at your folds until he can’t tell if you’re wet from his saliva or your own arousal. The answer is both. He doesn’t care for any of the fancy shit, so don’t bother with flavored lubes or eating particular fruits to try and alter your taste, he just wants you and you alone. I feel like this man has a scent kink so the smell of your arousal honestly gets him going even more. He prefers eating you out in bed, mostly because he’s tired and nothing feels better to him than laying on his plush mattress while using your thighs as his pillow. He’s a whore for face sitting by the way, even less of his energy needs to be put into  that, especially when you’re grinding your cunt against his tongue. Nanami’s other favorite thing to do is use his tie to bind your wrists, that way you really can’t interrupt him.

Fushiguro Toji

I had to restart Toji’s so many times because I got too aggressive. Listen, this bummy ass bitch will eat you out till the sunrises and he will make a fucking mess of you while he does it. Toji will eat you out and finger fuck you until you’re screaming. He’ll give you a “break” by stuffing you full with his dick and then get back to work eating you out again after he blew his load in you. Filthy bitch. He’ll eat you out anytime, anywhere, any position. He’ll never turn down the opportunity and depending on your relationship with him, this bitch may even charge you for his services. Which is just another way he likes to tease you, watching you whine and squirm while you cough up the money he wants. He’ll call you pathetic as he gets on his knees and basically rips your underwear off of you, commenting the whole time about how much of a whore you are… like he ain’t selling his body to you rn. This man will somehow make you feel inferior, but you can’t be bothered when his tongue is lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Toji will make sure your thighs and your cunt are swollen, bruised, overstimulated, and sore by the time he’s done with you. Your cunt is puffy from his sucking and biting, thighs littered in dark marks and teeth indents. He'd go as far as to find a marker and write “cum dumpster” on you if he was really in the mood to see you sob.

Ryomen Sukuna

Listen, you thought Toji could be mean? Sukuna is ten times worse. The thing is, the king of curses actually likes to eat pussy but he won’t admit it. But that is not to say he can’t live without it, Sukuna is selfish and really only prefers things that pleasure him in the process. But, when you’re sobbing, pathetically begging him to go down on you, he may just crack. Especially if you’re looking at him with watery eyes, swollen lips from sucking him off, your neck littered with bite marks and bruises. Oh, and, if you’ve made him cum, he’s more likely to agree and indulge you. If you manage to convince the king of curses to go down on you, don’t expect him to be easy on you. His nails are digging into the flesh of your thighs, blood dripping slowly as he eats you out with so much force it’s borderline painful. He’s using his tongue and his teeth, nipping at your folds and even grazing your clit with them until he can tell your sobs are a breathless mix of pleasure and pain. If we’re talking true form Sukuna, I promise you he won’t stop until you’ve blacked out. He’ll use one set of arms to hold your waist while the other set keeps your thighs spread. He’s forcefully dragging your cunt over the long tongue that protrudes from his stomach, occasionally stopping just to hold you still as he spreads you open and stuffs you with the same tongue, watching you yelp and moan as he toys with you. 

Okkotsu Yuta

If you look up the definition of “pussy drunk” you’ll see a picture of Yuta. This man cannot go down on you without becoming delirious. Your body puts him in a trance, he can’t even explain the way you make him feel. Yuta is all about body worship and his favorite way to go about it is having his face shoved between your legs for hours. He’s just as vocal as you are while he eats you out, groaning and whining against your cunt until the vibrations are making your eyes roll back as you cum again. He’ll be kneading your thighs as he eats, squeezing them like stress balls and hitting nerves that send sparks of electricity all the way to your toes and all the way up to the base of your neck. Without even trying, Yuta will manage to overstimulate you until you’re unironically going cross-eyed, fingers twitching as they bury in his hair and try to pull him off so you can catch your breath. Yuta is still a bit shy when it comes to being intimate outside of the privacy of your home. But that doesn’t mean he won’t drag you into the nearest bathroom and eat you out against the bathroom stall. In this sense, he’s almost cocky when someone unknowingly enters the bathroom only to see two sets of feet in one of the stalls. Not to mention the noises are echoing. Yuta lives to see your eyes going wide from embarrassment as he doesn’t stop, your noises are uncontrollable as he tongue fucks you. The poor bastard who entered the bathroom with the intention of properly using it just muttered under their breath and walked out.

Itadori Yuji

Yuji is eager, so, so damn eager. He wants to do anything and everything that brings you pleasure so when it comes to eating you out, he’s determined to be great at it. Yuji is the type to ask you for “practice” or “lessons” which is just his way of indirectly asking if he can eat you out. Most of the time, it’s an offer you can’t refuse, because as fate would have it, Yuji isn’t bad at anything. He’s so praise focused, eyes glued to your face as he flicks his tongue along your folds and waits for you to tell him he’s doing good. He’ll slow down when your praise isn’t coming fast enough because he wants you to beg. Yuji is a sucker for adding fingers to the mix, as much as he loves making you cum with just his tongue, he sees no point in limiting your pleasure for his own confidence boost. Kind of contradictory since he likes when you beg. Yuji is also the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, just slowly lapping at your cunt while also rutting his hips into the mattress, trying to not wake you up until you’re coming. He finds it so pretty when you wake up gasping, completely unable to restrict any of your noises as you orgasm. It’s important to mention that Yuji is a sucker for 69-ing and face sitting, he loves, loves, feeling your plush thighs caging in his head. He can’t get enough of the way your body settles so nicely into him, no longer afraid of “suffocating him” by sitting all the way down on him.

Fushiguro Megumi

He won’t admit it but he loves to eat you out. Megumi is shy at heart so even if he’s been with you for years, he can still get embarrassed when telling you how badly he wants to go down on you. He’s focused when he does get between your legs, hands gripping your thighs or hips while his tongue laps greedily at your cunt. Megumi loves to tongue fuck you, just because he knows it’s not enough stimulation to make you cum but enough to make you embarrassingly wet. He’s a bit mean at first, not willing to let you come until he feels you’ve earned it. He’ll stop abruptly just to sink his teeth into your inner thighs, not stopping until you’re gasping as the pain turns bruising. He’ll admire the teeth indents he’s left on your skin while his nails are scratching down your other thigh, tongue moving to wiggle against your clit until your hips are bucking. Megumi finds toys to be very hit or miss, but he’s found a love for stuffing you with a vibrator while putting all of his attention on your clit. Megumi’s preferred method of “torture” depends on his mood, either he’ll edge you until you’re begging or overstimulate you until you’re crying. He’s very private when it comes to these things… unless he’s jealous. Much like Yuta, he will not hesitate to drag you somewhere private while out in public to remind you of who you belong to. 

[doki-doki-imagines]

They compliment you feat. mk1 bi-han, kitana, kung lao

author note: felt like I was going to explode if I didn't post them today, I hope it's not complete trash LOL.

Bi-Han: -It was a quiet morning, for once you were the first to wake up, so you started cooking for the both of you. -Then you felt the arms of your lover wrapping around your waist, always so chilly against your body. -You feel his right cheekbone brush against yours, like a kitty searching for affection, then his chin rests on your shoulder, you can feel his black eyes on you. "Dawn creates light and shades on your face, making your feature stand out even more, I didn't think it was possible to make you look even more beautiful." -You choke on your own spit, stunned by the honeyed words dripping from your partner lips. -What was happening? Did Bi-Han hit his head during sparring? In any case, there's no way you'll stop him. -Kettle whistle, but you don't move, still looking at Bi-Han with wide eyes. -He sighs, kisses your cheek, and takes the kettle, pouring the boiling water into his cup, where you previously put the tea bag. -"Moron, if this is your reaction, I'll have to filter my thoughts again." -You shook your head, hell, you don't think you'll ever be able to go back now, his sweet words a drug that got you immediately addicted. Sadly, you aren't used to compliments anymore; you can just stutter out a no, while you feel heath on your cheeks. -Bi-Han smirks at you, a playful gesture you rarely see (and you are still thanking the gods that blessed you this morning) his right hand reaching for the apple of your cheek, pulling it in between his index and middle fingers before snapping it back in place. -"Sit down, I'll make you coffee maybe it will wake you up." -You aren't sure if you want to wake up.

Kitana: -You are waiting for her to return from work, your stomach churning always worried something bad may have happened. -You are reading a novel when you feel the door of the living room opening. You lift your head up, eager to see your lover come in. -And she does, a ray of sunshine deep into the night. -Kitana walks to you, a tired smile on her face, 'till she reaches you behind the armchair you are sitting on. -"Good night beautiful, first time here?" You say, chuckling at your own silliness. -Kitana chuckles along, the kind that shows the wonderful smile that always makes you understand how lucky you are. -"Since you leave me breathless every time I look at you-" Her face lean closer to yours "maybe it is" her plush lips kiss your forehead before she leaves to change in more comfortable clothing. -You curl on yourself, face hidden inside your book, and you are pretty sure your head is fuming for how fast the gears in your brain are working. -"Don't curl up, dear! You know it's bad for your back" Kitana shouts from your shared bedroom "I don't want my princess to get back pain" she whispers the last part. -Maybe one day she will get bold enough to freely speak her mind, for now you'll have to cheerish this rare moment of softness.

Kung Lao: -You tried a new recipe today, made with the fresh vegetables Kung Lao and Raiden picked up at dawn. -Saying you were nervous is a euphemism. You didn't want to fail, but even more to thrash the food your friend and boyfriend grew and picked up after so much effort. -You put the food on the table, useless to say to start the meal, Kung Lao cheeks were already full, and Raiden followed soon. -The judgment arrived soon, the burp coming from your partner mouth a telltale sign and a bad habit you still weren't able to correct. -"My love, the food was amazing, delicious!" Kung Lao stands up, arms open ready to embrace your body "Not that I have any doubts, your cooking skill just another plus of my wonderful-" He kisses your nose "amazing-" his lips touch your left cheek "beautiful dove" his lips finally rest on yours. -You reciprocate the kiss, but your mind is elsewhere, so used to Kung Lao singing his own praises without sparing a nice word to anybody else, you didn't expect so many compliments. -You break the kiss when you hear Raiden coughing in the background, heath flooding your face while your boyfriend was totally unaffected, still looking at you with that softness he always reserves for you. -Kung Lao soon returns at the table to finish the meal together with Raiden, and then they both go back to train. -But not before smooching your cheek, lips staining your skin with, what you guessed was the juice of the peach Kung Lao eat before going back to work. -You clean yourself with the back of your hand before going back to work, the comoliments of your boyfriend still reverberating into your brain, a nice intrusive thought that won't leave you for the rest of the day.

[cloudcountry]

1ST PRIZE WINNER, POP-SPARKLE! (@pop-sparkle)

— IDIA GHOSTS YOU ON YOUR FIRST DATE...OR DOES HE? (2013 words)

You try not to look too anxious as you chew on your bottom lip, eyes darting to each person as they walk past the cat cafe you are currently waiting in front of. Your first date with Idia Shroud had you pacing around your room hours before, picking out the perfect outfit and accessories that didn’t seem like too little or too much effort. You’d asked Grim a million times (much to his annoyance) if you looked okay, and had checked the mirror over and over to make sure nothing was stuck in your teeth and not a hair was out of place. You wanted to look perfect for him, you wanted to make him stumble over his words and feel that thrill of being so well put together it made his heart tremble.

You’d even tried to coordinate your outfit to Ignihyde’s aesthetic since you didn’t know Idia’s personal tastes yet. The plan was to ask him on the date what kind of clothes he liked, just so you could tailor some matching outfits for the two of you or make a cute Twisterest board of your aesthetics and how they’d play off of each other.

The plan was not to be waiting in front of the cat cafe for about thirty minutes now with no sign of your date, and all the giddy excitement you felt slowly evaporating into pure panic.

Had you done something wrong? You knew Idia was delicate socially but you tried not to treat him as such, knowing all too well how condescending that could be, but maybe you were too forward? Did you come off as desperate and he secretly didn’t want to come at all? Was he disgusted by you now? Did he just ghost you and intended to never talk to you again? Did Idia wish he never agreed in the first place? Did he forget, completely unbothered by your excitement, or got too wrapped up in his games to think of you?

You unlock your phone and scroll through you and Idia’s past conversations for any signs you may have missed that he wasn’t interested. He seemed enthusiastic enough, replying with longer looooools and kitty faces such as :3, but if anything that only made your current situation all the more confusing.

to: gloomurai ... 11:55am

-> hey idia! i’m at the cafe!! super excited to see you C:

to: gloomurai ... 12:10pm

-> hihi!! are you here yet? i can’t see you with all these people around lol

to: gloomurai ... 12:25am

-> ...idia? are you even here at all?

You read the last message over and over again, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over your eyelids. It was so jarring to suddenly be given the cold shoulder like this when he’d been so receptive before. You should just take the L, as Idia would say, and leave. It wasn’t like he was showing up anytime soon.

At this point, him showing up wasn’t even needed. You just wanted to go back to campus, ask him what the hell was going on, and maybe get some ice cream and cry over your amazing outfit if the conversation went south.

You do the walk of shame all the way up to the front gates of Night Raven, pushing the gates open with the strongest push you can muster (which comes off as very weak and half hearted.) For once, you look like the wet cat in your relationship, and at least that thought makes you chuckle when you feel like your world is falling apart.

You find your way to the hall of mirrors and go straight to Ignihyde dorm, summoning all of your courage as you step through the mirror. You don’t know where Idia is going to be, but knowing what you know of him now, there’s no way he’s anywhere but his dorm.

(You push down any thought that suggests he’s somewhere else just to get away from you—you won’t get anywhere thinking about things you don’t know to be true for sure yet. You know Idia is usually in his room, so that is where you’ll look first.)

When you make it to his room, it’s almost like you’re paralyzed with fear. You’ve never really been in a situation like this before—you have no idea if this is the right thing to do or not. Is this creepy? Are you stepping wildly out of line?

You almost chicken out, but then the door opens.

Ortho stands there, looking all too happy to see you.

You forgot he could read vital signs—he probably read your heart beat outside of Idia’s door and got concerned at its elevated rate.

“What are you standing outside for? Come on in!” he greets you cheerfully, like this whole fiasco didn’t just happen.

And, you suppose, was still happening.

You stumble dumbly into the room at his insistence, eyes locking with Idia’s all too soon. He looks ashamed, droopy flames flickering slowly in the darkness of his room. Seeing him in such a state proves to you that he didn’t forget—he looks so guilty, there’s no way he didn’t opt not to go of his own free will.

He chose to ghost you.

You bite your bottom lip, brow furrowing as you choke back the tears. It’s hard when you feel that telltale ball in the back of your throat that makes it just a little too hard to breathe, and you know if you start talking now you’re surely going to mess it all up and start sobbing in front of him. You clutch the fabric of your top and hope you don’t look as pathetic as you feel.

Things weren’t supposed to be this way.

“Why are you crying?” Ortho asks softly, cold metal hands touching your face gently.

He starts listing off a bunch of vital signs that indicate that you’re upset, and Idia makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a wounded puppy.

Ortho looks between the two of you and makes the executive decision to drag his brother out of his bed, forcing him to stumble his way over you with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen.

“Make sure you have a productive conversation!” Ortho cheers, exiting the room quicker than you could blink.

The door whirs shut behind him. Idia is shrinking in on himself more than usual, and you’re certain that if you don’t get your shit together first he’ll start breaking down.

“So Idia,” you cringe at how your voice breaks but keep going, “What happened?”

Silence.

“With the date, I mean.” you prompt.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles, and while it sounds halfhearted your ears have been trained to pick up on the inflections in his voice that indicate otherwise.

He’s crushed.

“That doesn't answer my question...why didn't you show? Did something happen?” you ask, keeping your tone as level and gentle as you possibly can even though you feel like crying.

“Well, uh, nothing really.” he mumbles, and he brings his hand up to grasp at his arm like he always does when he's nervous, “It's just that...the hit boxes on this quest were a little too finicky and I didn't know if I'd even be able to pull an SSR character like you. So, uh, I panicked and ditched the whole quest. A total botched mission. And I understand if you hate me now for being the worst player two ever, you deserve someone who would beat the final boss with you, not lose on the first one.”

So in short...Idia was so nervous he didn't show up?

You breathe a sigh of relief, all of your overthinking vanishing into thin air. He looks confused when you smile at him, clearly expecting an angry outburst or a disgusted snarl but instead you press a hand to your chest and thank him profusely.

“Um...lol, why are you thanking me?” he mutters, brow furrowing as he shifts his gaze to the ground, “I, like, totally ruined everything. You were willing to give me your time and I threw it away like level one materials you get when you've beat the game. I'm totally unworthy. My gacha luck should be at zero rn tbh.”

“Idia, are you kidding me? I thought my luck was at zero! I'm so glad I hit pity.” you huff, hurriedly wiping the tears from your eyes, “Listen, when I showed up and didn't see you there, I didn't feel joy or relief or anything close. I felt scared and anxious because I was worried I upset you. I didn't want you to think I was too desperate or intense. I just wanted to have fun with you. I wanted to spend some time with the guy I like more than anyone else.”

Idia shuffles his feet, the tips of his hair turning pink. You can feel your face heating up too, but you do nothing to hide your wobbly, flustered smile or the way he makes you feel.

He needs to see it if this conversation is going to go anywhere productive.

“Sorry, um, this is just...so new to me. I mean, you're excited to do things with me? You...you dressed up for me?” he swallows thickly, eyes catching on your outfit before flicking back up to your face.

You feel your stomach jolt at his gaze — it's a warm feeling, definitely not unwelcome. You'd almost forgotten how much effort you put into your outfit this morning. You're so glad he likes it. Just the approval alone makes the whole experience worth it.

“Get used to it.” you beam, “I want to do lots of things with you.”

He blushes, pink hair fanning out behind him like an angel’s wings. You're certainly looking at him like he is one, if the way he pulls his hood over his head and tries to cover as much of his face as possible is any indication.

You wish he wouldn’t, you love looking at his face, but you figure that’s something you can get him more comfortable with another day.

“I would also really like a second date. If Idia Shroud would be up for it, of course.” you say, a little softer, a little gentler, just enough to coax him from his hoodie.

“Um. I think it'd still be our first date. I don't want that to count.” he exhales sharply, turning away from you again.

Even after your talk, he's still embarrassed. He's still the same old Idia.

“Okay. Whatever you want, Idia.” you hum, happy that this situation wasn't at all what you thought it was and even happier that he suggested something so cute.

Oh, how did no one see his charm as deeply as you did? Idia was such a kind, warm soul—as warm as the flames cascading down his head, flickering pink as he stares at you.

He's still nervous, but so are you, the both of you shuffling your feet and exchanging shy glances. You think to suggest starting off your first date by gaming, a suggestion that wins you ten love points on his intimacy meter as he beams and scrambles to pick one out.

He asks you a million questions about what style of games you prefer and if a certain variable matters to you in your gaming experience. He digs deep in his collection, tossing away any single player games he finds and it makes your soul sing because wow, he wants to play with you. It’s the obvious choice—after all, this is a date now, but it still tastes sweet on your tongue as you whisper his name.

“I’ll like any game you pick out.” you offer.

“It can’t be any game for you. It has to be perfect.” he huffs, not even turning back to look at you.

Dedicated. Passionate. Hardheaded and laser focused. This is the Idia you fell in love with.

As you sit down next to him and riffle through his collection with him, you can’t help but feel so, so happy that you did.

[darling-i-read-it]

Burns

Charlie Swan x fem!reader, Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: age gap (for both men, both are legal but carlisle is like 223297493 years old so do with that what you’d like lol), burns (second and first degree), doctors office, me knowing too much about twilight 

Author’s Note: IM WRITING A PART 2 RN BUT WANTED TO SEE IF YOU GUYS LIKED THIS <3 I literally randomly had a burst of inspo to write this and i lowkey love it…

Summary: You’re a waitress at the local diner to pay off tuition in the summer. You have a small crush on the chief of police who comes in to get his coffee from you. You thought that was all it was until you met the resident doctor when you have a mishap and now you’re stuck between two incredibly charming men that both have a little crush on you. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Forks, Washington was under a near constant cover of rain. You were aware of it when you woke up in the morning, prepared to see the dreary weather that greeted you through the window. You could smell the rain on the pavement before it came, see it in the clouds as they hovered above. You were always prepared for it, always ready for it. 

Today, the sun was out. Summer usually calls for something more temperate. You found that those days weren’t necessarily unwelcome, but never your favorite. Everyone went outside when it was sunny. You could see people you hadn’t seen in ages. You never made an effort to see them in the first place for a reason. There was an uncharacteristic amount of skin showing. It may only be mid 70s but everyone suddenly acted like the ocean water was a relief to their burning skin. 

You sweat easily, especially in the diner. The Lodge had little to no air conditioning and the sun brought people in droves. Everyone wanted a bite to eat. They all remembered the diner had milkshakes. It was never a great mix for a waitress. 

You turned the corner on your heel, giving a quaint smile to Cora, your coworker. She looked like she was going to melt away. 

“Do you think anyones gonna leave early today?” she asked quietly behind the counter. You shook your head. She had the coffee pot in her hand and was holding it tightly so it didn’t spill. You looked around the packed diner, laughter bubbling from sections where it normally was silent. You shook your head, giving her a sad look. 

“We’re in for one.” 

“I should’ve called out,” she muttered. “You should’ve called out. This place needs us.” You shook your head. 

“You’ve gotta put food on the table,” you reminded her. She had a kid who was going into middle school. You had met her when Cora brought her in, her headphones stuck in her ears and reading some trashy teen novel. 

“Always the voice of reason,” she muttered. “Plus, you gotta pay tuition.” 

“Don’t remind me.” 

You were going to college in Seattle but always worked the summers back in Forks. You loved the little town despite its insanity. You found that most of it was quiet, even on louder days. Plus, it was always easy to find a job back home. You were practically shoved the waitress apron when you returned this summer. You had been doing it since you graduated high school, always trying to find something to keep yourself occupied. You were coming upon your senior year in college and the extra money helped immensely. 

“Hey, your boyfriends here,” Cora teased. She pushed herself off the counter to refill someone’s coffee cup. You furrowed your brows in confusion even though you knew exactly who she meant. 

You watched as chief of police Charlie Swan walked through the doors with a clink of the bell above his head. He met your eyes and gave you an awkward half wave, which you returned slightly more enthusiastically. He walked up to the counter, squeezing between the people sitting there. Someone said hello to him and he gave them a nod in acknowledgment. 

“You guys are busy today huh?” he questioned, scoffing. 

“Just a bit,” you admitted. His presence never ceased to bring butterflies to your stomach. Maybe you were harboring a small/not so small crush on the sheriff but you tried your best not to show it. You assured Cora it was just something silly for you to feel as you passed through your work day. Still, her eyes lingered on yours as she went around the counter to greet someone else because she knew you were busy. “It’s the sun.” 

“Brings out all the loonies,” he said. 

“I imagine you’re busy out there too.” He was always scanning around to make sure no one was doing anything wrong. His eyes flicked from you to the people beside him, then back to you. 

“Taking my 15.” 

“Just to see lil ol me?” you teased. Even as the words left your mouth you felt self conscious of them. This time though, he gave a half smile. 

“You make the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he promised. You tried not to get flustered. 

“Well, it looks like you need a double today, Sheriff.” 

“Charlie, how many times do I have to tell you?” You rolled your eyes. He leaned against the diner counter even though there were no seats. You turned around, every other table lost in your mind. Cora would help you out until he left.

“Well Charlie, it might be too hot for a hot coffee. You could’ve gone to one of those fancy coffee shops,” you offered, grabbing a coffee pot. 

“Yeah, can you imagine me ordering there? I have a hard enough time with you.” 

“I think I get what you mean by now,” you joked. You poured him a cup and grabbed three sugars and two creams. “Anything else?” 

“You always this quick with your service?” he questioned, looking at the people down the line who hadn’t gotten their food. 

“I’m just the coffee girl with a pretty smile. I don’t control the food orders.” You handed him a stirring stick as he opened his sugar packets. “Plus, you’re the chief of police Charlie. I don’t wanna get arrested.” He chuckled, a real genuine laugh. 

“I think I’ll let you off for this one.” You smiled at your success. The laugh was guaranteed to be the highlight of your shift. 

“Thanks Charlie.” You turned back to the kitchen which was starting to call things out. “Anything else?”

“No ma’am.” He grabbed some cash out of his wallet. “Keep the change.” 

“You’re my favorite customer Charlie,” you joked at his more than generous tip of 100%. He did a little salute with his finger and raised the cup to you. 

“Go do your job otherwise you’re bound to get more angry customers than I am.” 

You nodded once and bowed out of the conversation gracefully. You grabbed the food from behind you and started to bring it out. Cora gave you a look as you passed her, the smile plastered on your face a clear tell of your conversation. 

“Peach cobbler,” you said to one of your regulars. She was a small old lady who always came in on Saturdays, at exactly the same time. You enjoyed talking with her and catching up on her life. She got the same thing each time and the consistency was something you appreciated. “Sorry it’s been slower today Miss. Heidi. The heat has the whole of Forks out!” She shook her head, brushing you off. 

“No worries at all,” she assured you. “It’s not like I’m not gonna come back.” You shared in her shaky laughter. She picked up her fork just as you were about to leave and pointed it at Charlie. “You making heart eyes at the chief over there sweetheart?” You flushed immediately. Maybe you weren’t so great at hiding it. 

“Maybe. But keep your mouth shut Heidi,” you whispered with a smile. She chuckled. Her eyes lingered on Charlie who was finishing his coffee already. He had started a conversation with the man beside him. Charlie seemed to know everyone in town. 

“Aren’t you a little young for him?” You rolled your eyes. 

“It’s perfectly constenting and legal,” you assured her. “I’m plenty older than his daughter if that’s what you’re gonna say.” 

“I was gonna mention.” Her eyes wrinkled at the edges, shaking her head. Her movements didn’t feel like she was disagreeing with you. More so that she was gossiping with a friend, just girls being girls. “He had his heart broken by her mother, you know. He’s a good man.” 

“Is that your consent Heidi? Because I don’t even know if he feels the same way.” Your voice was lighthearted. She grabbed your hand, her saggy skin feeling comforting. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much sweetheart.” You scrunched your face a little and shook off her words. You were still on the clock. 

“Enjoy your peach cobbler Heidi.” 

-

You brushed your hair out of your face. The sun had finally subsided for the evening, giving way for the clouds. You embraced their presence, appreciating the way that the cool air felt on your overworked skin. Cora was still hanging around after her shift, waiting for her husband to come pick her up. You sat on the back steps of The Lodge, watching the trees sway. 

“The air feels so crisp,” you muttered. 

“You say the weirdest things,” she grumbled, laughing. She was leaning against the building. “It’s the trees.” 

“I know.” You were going to leave right after work and finally drive back home but you needed a moment to sit and enjoy the day. It had been a long shift. Cora and you were officially trauma bonded. 

“How was the chief?” 

“Good,” you promised. “Sweet.”

“A guy can be sweet and catch criminals?” 

“He’s assertive,” you argued. When Cora laughed she did it with her whole chest. 

“Honey, you’re down bad.” You rolled your eyes and stood up. Cora’s eyes followed you as you did so, turning back to the door inside the diner. “You’re goin back into that hellhole?” 

“Forgot my phone,” you said. “Also, I am not. It’s a work crush. I’m entitled to one! Just like you like the produce guy!” 

“I do not like the produce guy. I think he’s hot. Big difference!” You rolled your eyes as you opened the door back inside. The heat hit you again, unpleasantly. You had to weave through the cooks to get back to the front. You couldn’t remember when you had put your phone down. You were making a phone call during your break. Maybe you had left it on hte steps outside after all? 

“Hey Jerry?!” you called to the cook in the back.

“What?!” 

“You seen my phone?” 

“No! All I’ve seen are burgers!” You rolled your eyes harder this time and dipped underneath the counter to see if you had put it with the sugars and stuff. You let out an annoyed groan when it wasn’t there. 

You turned too quick and ran right into the closing waitress. She was holding a hot pot of coffee and effectively spilled it all over you. You gasped involuntarily, the feeling of scorching coffee seeping through your clothes. The gasp turned into a seethe as you packed up. You could hear her speaking, the high pitched, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” reverberating off your eardrums. You had dropped coffee on yourself before. All you could think of was that you needed a towel and some cold water. 

You turned on a dime and walked back to the kitchen. You turned on the sink back there and fumbled your hand around for a towel to use. 

“Jerry, towel,” you mumbled, the burning skin now setting into a tingle. He turned his head around and saw you. He started to fumble around. You walked in front of him to grab the towel and just barely lost your balance, causing your hand to fly up onto the table. 

Right onto the stove. 

This time you yelped. The coffee was already forgotten as there was now more of an issue at hand. 

“Woah dollface!” Jerry exclaimed. He grabbed your wrist because you were just staring at your red hand. You had put your entire palm down. You looked up at him, tears staining your eyes from pain, and he brought you over to the sink. 

“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he put it under the cold water. It didn’t subside any pain, just added another sensation. “Jerry that hurts!” 

“Hey Y/N, I have your phone in my apron.” Cora came through the door to witness you breathing heavily next to the sink, Jerry the cook practically holding you down. 

“She burned her hand on the stove,” he explained. 

“She spilled coffee on me,” you blubbered childishly. You could feel all your body parts at once, like you were on fire. You had no brain power to say anything else. 

“Oh Jesus,” Cora muttered. She rushed forward, grabbing your wrist to look at it. “You gotta get this checked out honey.” You gave her a somber looking face. “I know, I know. I’ll take you. Where’s your car keys?” You reached in your apron with your non burnt hand. It was soaking wet from the coffee. 

“Is she okay?” the waitress asked, sticking her head through the window. 

“She burned her hand on the stove,” Jerry said. 

“She what?!” 

Cora put her hand on your back, leading you out the door. You took deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You were fine. You were gonna be fine. 

“I’ll be okay,” you whispered. “You have to g-”

“I’ll have Steven do it,” she said. Her husband. You gave her a look of pure thankfulness as she helped you into the passenger seat of her car. 

“I really don’t have to go to the hospital over this,” you tried to say. 

“I know you don’t. But I think it’s safer than waiting.” You put your head against your headrest. 

-

Cora dragged you by your free arm to the front desk. She was the one who gave your name and your information as you stood beside her, holding your hand. You looked like a mess, given the coffee all over you. You were sure this could all just be fixed by some water and ointment from the store but Cora insisted. 

She rambled on about how a family member hadn’t gone in for a burn and it ended up being more severe then they thought, damaging below the skin. Her words were not comforting. 

Eventually they called you back to be looked at. You sat on an exam table with a thin paper on top. A nurse had come in to check on you and give you something for your hand while you waited for the doctor. 

You were in a row of beds. Cora pulled the curtains aside to give you privacy. 

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you said. 

“They don't get to know all your business. HIPAA or whatever.” You squinted. 

“I don’t think-” 

“Ladies.” Carlisle Cullen stepped through the curtain at the open side. He was holding a clipboard, a charming smile plastered on his face. Your breath hitched at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. “Y/N, I hear you burned your hand.” You nodded. 

“And her chest,” Cora muttered. She must have noticed Carlisle’s looks as well. Or maybe she just noticed your reaction to him. You cleared your throat. 

“I had coffee spilled on me.” 

“No, you should check it out. It’s bad.” You gave a look. Carlisle’s smile remained, shaking his head. You had heard of him but never had a reason to come out and see him. You wouldn’t even call this a valid reason. 

“Sounds like an awful case of bad luck.” You nodded. “Can I take a look?” He sat on a spinny chair and pulled it towards you. You extended your hand to him. 

“I’m gonna go call Steven,” she said to you. You nodded. She patted your back, her eyes lingering on your doctor even as she left. Carlisle held your hand in his, gently looking it over. You looked down at him. 

“A stove did this?” 

“Yeah. It was dumb,” you promised. “I lost my balance looking for a rag for the coffee burn.” 

“And that’s okay?” You nodded. 

“I think. I mean, my hand feels way worse,” you assured him. 

“Your friend seems to think otherwise.” 

“Cora’s dramatic by nature.” He laughed gently. 

“Well the stove fought back.” He wheeled backwards towards the table beside your bed. “It looks like second degree burns on your hand. I’ll send you home with some ointment for it and you’ll wanna wrap it up so that you don’t get it caught on your clothes or anything.” You nodded. “I’ll wrap it for you first, show you how to do it.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course.” He stood up and fumbled in the desks drawer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check on the coffee burns?” He glanced back at you. You looked down at your shirt. It had mostly gotten your stomach. You could still feel pain there, probably driven by the fact you never got to clean it off. 

“If you think it’ll help?”

“Stomach burns are interesting just because of their placement. It’s harder to wrap them. I think it would be beneficial for me to make sure they’re only first degree, if anything.” You nodded. You would listen to him read the phone book. 

“Okay.” He walked back over. Before even touching your shirt he made eye contact with you. 

“Only if you’re comfortable. I can wait till your friend comes back if you want me to.” You shook your head. 

“I’m okay!” you promised. You cleared your throat and grabbed the hem of your shirt. You carefully lifted it up over your torso, holding it just above the wet spot. Carlisle’s eyes went down to your body. 

“You said the hand hurt more?”

“By far.” 

“Can I touch you?” Please. You cleared your throat again. 

“Sure.” He put an icy hand on your hip, lightly brushing your burn with his thumb. 

“How much does that hurt? Scale one to ten?” 

“Five.” He applied more pressure. 

“Now?” 

“Seven. Your hands are really cold, which could be worsening the effects,” you joked. He chuckled, his lips turning up a bit. 

“Sorry about that.” He backed up a bit. You put your shirt back down. “Those are first degree burns. It only hit in some spots. Should feel numb or touchy for a couple days. You can put the ointment there too but you shouldn’t have to wrap it up.”

“The hand needs it.”

“The hand needs it,” he agreed. He had put some stuff on the counter, which he now took in his hands. He squeezed something out a bottle and put a bit of it on his finger, taking your hand back in his. “Let me know if the pressure is too much.” 

You watched him, your free hands fingers curled under the bed you were sitting on. He gently covered your hand, using such a light touch that it was like he was barely there. 

“You’re good at this.” 

“It’s my job,” he said, smiling. “Are you from out of town? I don’t think I’ve had you in here before.” 

“Just lucky,” you quipped. “I go to college in Seattle too so I’m usually out there.” He nodded slowly. 

“Fancy.”

“The drive back is beautiful.” He nodded slowly. His hand lingered on yours as he examined his work. “So is this town.” 

“Do you work at the diner?”

“Yeah! That’s where I got this beauty.” He scooted back, grabbing the bandages.

“I think my son’s seen you there. He’s graduating high school in a year and likes his seclusion,” he explained. 

“Son?” you asked. 

“Edward.” 

“No, I’m just stunned you have a child. You look far too young,” you said, laughing incredibly. He grinned sheepishly. You tried not to think of him being married or the lack of ring on his finger. 

“He’s technically my foster son,” he described. 

“I see. Do you do it all on your own?” You winced. That was aggressive. “I don’t mean to pry.” “It’s alright,” he said, shaking his head, completely cool. “Yes, they’re all under my care. I haven’t found the right one quite yet. Plus, she’d have to take on more than a couple stragglers with me.” His eyes flicked up to yours. They met for a moment longer than they should have. You had to look away. 

“Sounds like a task.” 

“It’s definitely not for everyone.” He tightened your bandage. “There. I’ll send you home with some of this, it’ll be sent to wherever you get your prescriptions.” He stepped back from you. “Try to be careful around stoves next time.”

“Yes sir.” He gave you one more look, a kind hearted smile and then was on his way. You followed him until he was gone out of view. You were glad he hadn’t checked your pulse because you were sure it was beating out of your chest. Cora came around the corner. 

“He’s too old for you too,” she said. You laughed dryly, shaking your head. You could practically still feel his touch on your hand. So gentle. 

“You’ll learn to get used to it,” you teased her. She rolled her eyes. “Were you waiting out there the whole time?” 

“Wanted to give you and Doctor Dreamy some alone time.” 

“You’re such a wingwoman!” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the Sheriff.” 

Part 2

[monalogs]

how about jealously with randal n reader? :3 like reader is jealous that randal is hanging out with satoru more than her while dreaming so reader hangs out with sebastian, making randal jealous ?? sorry for my bad english, its not my first language :))

Jelly | Randal Ivory

➷ Paring - Randal Ivory x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - master/pet play, fingering, unsafe sex, praise, licking/biting, possessive tendencies, jealousy

a/n - exams have been a bit occupying unfortunately :( i still have a lot of concepts and requests i want to get to, you guys have awesome ideas and i love seeing them in my inbox !! u should see my google docs rn lol

It's hard to not scoff when Randal wakes up and immediately starts talking about his dream. It's become an annoyingly common thing now ever since Randal informed you about his little dream friend, Satoru Tsukada. Even seeming disappointed when he doesn't get a dream with him in it.

Almost every night he snuggles up against you in his coffin, nibbling at your ear and whispering cheekily, “I really hope you come into my dream tonight, imagine the fun we’d all have!” He pulls you closer, elating how proximity raises the chances of this happening.

You suck in any annoyance and nod because you're still his good pet. Though, internally you fight the urge to roll your eyes and admit “I don't really care about that guy.”

A gripping feeling twists in your stomach each morning when you wake up without the shared lucidity, hearing about all the fun Randal had that night. 

Sheepishly, you push it down and let him talk. 

Though, you tune out most of it – for your sake, as an overwhelming feeling of envy washes over you whenever you do pay attention to his words. 

A thought reverberates about not being enough for him. Is the novelty of a new friend enough to push you away? It's not like you don't already share Randal’s attention. Sebastian exists, of course. 

You two got along well enough, much to Randal’s satisfaction. Though, you admit that your focus lied more on the unpredictable gakuran-clad young man.

And despite your initial standoffish attitude when Sebastian was gifted to Randal, you quickly learned he wasn't a threat at all. He just had some unfortunate circumstances and ended up here.  

Therefore, you didn't have to fight for attention and Sebastian seemed to appreciate that you were at least cordial to him. Nobody was in the way.

So maybe this is why you have so much more of a problem with this Satoru character. You don't know him, and the only way you could is completely up to chance. 

How do you compete with that? Based on Randal’s stories, they tend to have a ball of a time. You really try to convince yourself that you're better, that you're overthinking and Randal isn't losing interest in you. 

But at night, when his arms wrap around your body, it's clear his mind is somewhere else. Satoru is a part of him, always in the dream-plane, waiting for him with open arms. Somewhere where you aren't.

Jealousy ten-folds and insecurity festers within as time goes on. Your own stressed voice tells you to relax, but an even louder one continues to complain. 

On a day where Randal is occupied with Luther, leaving you and Sebastian alone in the house, you can't seem to keep it in anymore.

Words seep out of your mouth, “Am I doing something wrong?” It's quiet and Sebastian immediately looks uncomfortable. 

“Um… with what?” He shifts in his seat in the living room, avoiding eye contact with you. He's not to blame, you rarely had conversations that didn't involve Randal. Maybe you should have put more of an effort to get to know him before dumping this on him. Still, you continue. 

“I don't know, what if Randal doesn't like me anymore?” You speak softly, but the candidness is clear. Sebastian isn't used to this vulnerability, he was just brainstorming an attempt to escape (again) but now he has to comfort you… 

Thing is, he doesn't know how to do that. Maybe he would feel more sympathetic if Randal wasn't a complete freak, (he still doesn't understand your affinity for the young man) but you haven't done anything bad to him. He doesn't want to be rude to the only normal enough person here.

“He definitely likes you.” Which is the truth, anybody with eyes could see the relationship dynamic. You always doted behind Randal, doing anything he asked of you. And Randal was more than happy to have you crawl around for him if it meant you’d get a kiss.

It goes to say that you might seem more like a lover to Randal than a pet. He thinks himself lucky for not walking in on you guys yet…

Which might be why he was taken by Luther, Randal probably finds it more fun to torment and bother someone who wasn't as willing as you–

“Wait… I dont– I don't want to steal Randal from you! I actually want to get out of here–” He stammers before you cut him off with a laugh. A change in tone, good sign. “I know that, don't worry.” 

Sebastian sighs and relaxes a bit, but still fidgets with the white sleeves of his god awful outfit. It then clicks it might be about that dream guy Randal hasn't stopped boosting about recently. He almost certainly wants to roll his eyes. “Is it Satoru?” 

Immediately, you jump up and grab at Sebastian’s arms. “You see it too, right?! It's so annoying, I’m so sick of hearing about it every morning! We haven't even met the guy, but apparently they are best friends. Fucking stupid.”

Sebastian nodded along to your words. To him, it was annoying but it also occupied the eccentric weirdo. Better he’s entertained by Satoru than him. Still, he lets you complain, and it becomes evident to just how much this was eating you up inside.

You both don't realize how time has passed until Randal stampers into the room with an ominous black bag that is dripping green slime. Neither of you question it. 

“Whatcha’ talking about?” He swings the bag over his shoulders and nearly falls back with the force, catching himself.

Sebastian notices how you immediately smile at Randal despite the complaining you've been unloading onto him for the past couple hours, how ironic. “O-Oh, nothing much. How was your outing with Luther?” 

Randal shrugs and then drops the bag onto the couch, undoubtedly staining it with the goopy substance. Luther will have a problem with that later. 

“Within bounds. Now I’m just tired… how about we go to sleep!” He says it more like an order than a suggestion.

Your smile immediately drops, “It's like 6PM.” 

“Actuallyyyy, 6:38.”

---

You want to smack yourself for not being more welcoming to Sebastian, he actually isn't that bad of a guy. He’s still a bit awkward, (he seems to constantly radiate it) and he has no shame in expressing to you how he wants to escape the house. You giggle and give him a “good luck with that”

Still, he's easy to talk to with the ever growing free time you have now. Though, despite your attitude, a part of you still craves to be around Randal.

You wish you could prod into his brain and yank Satoru out of there. If he really wants Randal, he can fight you for it. You doubt he’s even strong outside of the stupid dream-plane he lives in. 

Unfortunately, you haven't been paying attention to the conversation with Sebastian, and now he's pausing for your reply. Sweat dropping, you let out a laugh, hoping it fits as a response.

He stares, “You think my goldfish getting run over is funny?” 

“No, no, I don't– wait? Run over? How’d–” 

The bewildered sentence doesn't get the chance to finish before the sensation of oddly cold, but familiar, hands wrap around your waist and drag into an adjacent room. 

“Randal– what do you want?” It comes out more harsh than you expected, and you can see the slight grimace on Randal’s face. 

His hands leave your waist, now folding across his chest, “Long time no see.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes, “Well, you've been a bit busy.”

Randal pauses before letting out a big laugh, “Doll, I always have time for you!” A traitorous blush spreads across your face, huffing, “Doesn't look like it.”

Randal steps a bit closer, “I thought Sebastian was keeping you plenty company.” His lips tug upward, “You two have gotten close, that's cute.”

His eyes contrast his smile, there's a clear coat of irk behind them. Holy shit, is he… jealous? You perk up, suddenly gaining some confidence… and leverage. 

“Yeah, we talk.” You show him a coy smile, his eye twitches for a second. “Awesome… about what, exactly? Tell me all the deets.”

“Oh, y’know.” 

“I don't, I literally don't.”

“What does it matter?” You hum cheekily before adding, “Anyways, isn't it past your bedtime right now?"

It was far too bold, but god, did it feel good to say. Randal reacts accordingly by pinning you against the wall. He's peeved, and you should really be scared, but you can't help but buckle at the proximity.

Randal’s voice is unusually low, his eyes staring into yours, “You’ve forgotten who you're talking to, doll. I think I need to remind you, heheh.”

Your confidence is beginning to crumble, but you still manage to get a reply out through quivering lips, “Sebastian is right outside.” Randal grins, “Good.”

A gloved hand trails your torso before it finds its way under the hem of your shorts and underwear, tugging them down and past your ankles. You have to hold back a gasp when a cold finger circles the pearl of your clit.

Randal draws closer, his hot breath pressed against your neck. A warm tongue laps up and down the side before teeth bite down and suckle on your sensitive skin.

Adrenaline and ache build as the latex of his fingers push into your entrance, pumping in and out of you. “Randal–” A moan gets caught in your throat when he speeds up slightly, angling upwards with his movements. 

Randal rasped, continuing to mark your neck with bites and hickeys, “No-no, pet, you know my name.” 

You do, “Master, please, m-more!” It’s shameless, and it’s aloof to how upset you were earlier. Now, you burn for more, bucking onto the length of his fingers.

You couldn't help but surrender to the overwhelming emotions – the hold he had over you was a force you couldn't deny, and certainly not control. There isn't anything holding you back from this. Not Satoru, not Sebastian, not even yourself.

Randal’s mouth hovers over yours, words tracing quivering lips, “That's right,” He grinds his erection against the tender flesh of your front, “ah–, let me hear those pretty noises!”

His touch only accentuates the pure excitement washes over the both of you, neither being able to remove sweaty hands off one another. 

Randal pins you further, hiking your legs up around his waist. His exposed cock rubs against your slick and pleading heat, relishing in the intoxicating shudder of your body. 

Your head rests on his shoulder, mouth agape as fingers tug at his hair, “S-Stop teasing!” 

You wrap your legs around him tighter in any attempt to heighten the friction, and Randal responds by gripping the bottom of your ass harder, “So needy, aren't you? Is that why you’ve been in such a mood? Can’t– ah, can’t handle not being the center of my attention? So jelly!”

An onslaught of groans fill the room, sputtering and begging for more. Randal grins against your neck, “Hah, how about you show me how much you need me?”

Randal then puts you down and pulls away, ignoring your whines about the wait. He shuts you up by motioning you to where he now sits, legs spread with his cock erect in his lap. 

Sweaty gloves hold onto your waist as you eagerly hover over his lap, “Can I? Can I, master, please?” Randal gives you a dopey smile, leaning to kiss your cheek, “I love it when you beg!” You groan and rut against him impatiently, “Oh, oh, yeah – get to it, pet.”

He’s right, you are incredibly needy. Despite all the sass and complaints, you truly can't help but rut into him. 

For now, you’ve completely given up any resentment towards Randal, instead relishing in the awaited pleasure he's giving you. A choir of slapping skin, moans, and praise cascade on the walls with pure want and need behind them. 

Your eyes never leave his, with Randal out right refusing to blink. He lays out under you, red spreads across his face, whether it blush or blood. His skin also glistens with sweat, downright uncomfortably sticky for any normal person. 

You aren't that type of person though, you're better than Satoru or Sebastian, or any other person he can waste his attention on. 

You want him to want you, like how you do him. Truly, you’ll take everything he gives and only ask for more.

Randal’s fingers start to dig into your hips, but he's nice enough to let you keep your own pace, encouraging your incredibly desperate movements. 

“Good pet,” His fingers dig even deeper, his own hips thrusting fervently against yours, “show me how much you want this.” His eyes never leave your body, admiring the way you bounce and quiver. 

Randal finds it addicting and oh-so adorable how he can completely make you come undone around him. He thinks himself kind for letting yourself prove how much you love him, but there really wasn't anything to worry about in truth.

He knows you’re so loyal, constantly aching just for him. But he still saw those sideways glances, how your mouth would pout, and the muttering between you and Sebastian. 

Your pettiness, though annoying, was because you missed your cute master… enough that you confided in Sebastian, leaving him out in turn. 

He can admit he got a bit caught up during his time with Satoru, but he's thankful now that he's reminded that nothing compares to how you surrender yourself to him. Randal knows you are his. He’ll make sure to show you time and time again.

Randal arches and humps into you, licking his upper lip to taste the blood that rests on it. Your own grip lies on his hips in an attempt to keep balance, the pace becoming feverish and hard to keep up. 

You croak out, feeling the knot in your abdomen grow tighter and tighter, “I think–” Randal eagerly nods, the twitch of his cock evident.

Your thighs quake, loud moans echoing off the vintage wallpaper of the room, orgasm ripping through you. Randal pushes his fingers into your hips one last time and follows suit, writhing under you.

Immediately, you allow yourself to rise a bit and lay on top of the young man, feeling how his rapidly breathing lungs press against your own. 

With labored breath, you choke out, “Can you… just spend more nights with me?” It's shy compared to the actions seconds earlier, but you still hold onto Randal’s form with that same desire. 

Randal laughs, slapping your bare ass cheekily, “If you wanted my attention,” He licks your earlobe, a hand resting on your waist, “You could’a just asked, doll.” 

You huff but still lean into his touch, pausing for a second before asking another question,

“...Do you think Sebastian heard us?”

“One grillion precent.”

[brittle-doughie]

I hunger for... yandere cookie run...

So, imagine yandere ancients cookies meeting their good old friend (who they still have a huge crush on) traveling with the brave gang!

And when any of them tries to convince reader to stay with them, Y/N cookie immediately turn down the offer and said that they'll stick with the brave gang until dark enchantress cookie is finally defeated.

I hope this ask goes through💔 and I'll be fish anon from now on

-🐟

Gotta Go (The Ancient Cookies)

Pure Vanilla Cookie and Black Raisin Cookie would want to thank Y/N Cookie by asking if they wanted to stick around and help with the Vanilla Kingdom.

Since DE is defeated for now, you actually grant this request and stick around with Brave and the others to help patch up things in the place…all the while Pure Vanilla and Black Raisin crowd you wanting to chat, lol.

Barely having enough time to process the dragon being defeated had you being scooped up and squeezed tightly by Hollyberry Cookie. You were just so cute fighting the dragon like that, Princess Cookie would agree!

Jungleberry and Royal Berry would ask if you had to stay for a celebratory feast, it was the least they could do to commend you for your efforts. Hollyberry is there to try and butter you up, but you had DE to stop and didn’t have the time. The Teo royals understand, but Hollyberry is insisting she comes along to keep you safe!

Dark Cacao Cookie couldn’t thank you enough for the efforts you and the group put to ward off the licorice threat and snap him out of his corruption. He insists that a warrior like you would be at home in the Dark Cacao Kingdom.

Caramel Arrow would insist on Cacao’s offer, saying that by staying, you’d be a constant inspiration for her and the other warriors to train and fight harder. This gets DCA on the protective side, his asking of you to come to the kingdom being urgent, he did not want to leave you to get twisted into an evil mockery of yourself.

You wouldn’t realize it yet, but Golden Cheese Cookie had gotten more attached to you then you expected, it seemed not even GC was immune to the effect you had on cookies. She focused on you and how you were doing much more than the group, something that would annoy Black Raisin to no end.

It would all come to a head where she’d offer you to be a permanent resident to her kingdom, but you had to refuse, saying that DE had to be stopped no matter what, but GC insisted! She grew worried, this war shouldn’t matter more to you than your own life. You should just STAY HERE where you couldn’t get hurt under her watch, she’s not letting you leave out of fear that she’ll endure the same pain she had endured years ago…

White Lily Cookie didn’t like the sound of your plan, were you really going to face Dark Enchantress Cookie? It sounded too dangerous for you, you can get hurt or something even worse! She’ll help you, but it meant that you had to stay back as she and the others handled DE.

But you refused, you had been on this mission since the start, you weren’t going to back out now. But White Lily believes that your life can be more fruitful if you remained here…with her. So please….stay. You couldn’t, you wanted to see this until the end. The others were counting on you…

White Lily wanted to protest, when she realized that you’re in a crosshairs of a particular group of cookies….

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

taedros tresdros

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

part one: taedros taedros ☆ part two: taedros twodros wc: 2.2k reader: afab reader (pretty sure no specific gender mentioned but putting this disclaimer just in case!) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- also some angst and some fluff :) summary: uh-oh... you fell for your best friend taerae. but was it all in vain after he's ghosted you the past two weeks? *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ITS DONEEE! you will notice i've went with "taedros tresdros" for the title. decided to keep all three parts with taedros as the first word lol. this is the finale for this little series and i really hope you like this ending i've made lol. i am so happy you've all enjoyed taedros taedros -- stay tuned for more works soon (hopefully) xx

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, fingering and oral (reader receiving), cumming in pants, eavesdropping/voyeurism by reader but it's only out of shock/anger, swearing, lots of innuendo in this one lmao... i think that's it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“so, the ring finger goes here?” you hear a feminine voice ask; ear pressed gently to taerae’s door to hear better. just a few moments ago, you’d been taking deep, steadying breaths as you walked through the entrance to your best friend’s dorm building on your way to finally confront him.

something that was so familiar now made your heart race with anxiety. 

but when you’d rounded the corner to taerae’s room, you were surprised to find the door shut almost all the way. usually taerae left his door wide open, even when he was playing the guitar or getting changed or sleeping. in fact, his dorm-mates told you one night when you were leaving that the only time taerae made an effort to close it was when you were over... you couldn’t hear any noise coming from his room, which made you all the more curious as to what was going on in there. 

walking up to his door, you’d seen it was propped open just a bit by one of taerae’s shoes. you couldn’t see through the gap in the door, but you’d heard quiet murmurings from inside and gently placed your ear to the door to listen closer. the sound of a girl’s voice had completely shocked you. especially considering what you’d come here to talk about with taerae.

“yeah, it might take a bit to find the sweet spot,” taerae answers with a chuckle; his answer causing your jaw to drop. fingers? sweet spots? what the fuck is going on in there!?

“mmm, thank you again for teaching me, taerae,” the voice responds. upon closer listening, you realize you know this voice. it belongs to your world history classmate, jinah-- the girl who sits behind you and doodles the entire period. she’s very nice-- pretty and athletic, too, but...

you didn’t really think taerae was her type.

you hadn’t spoken to taerae much in the last couple weeks. ever since you’d actually slept together... things had changed. it felt like your best friend was avoiding you. when you’d texted to ask about movie night the past two fridays, taerae had said he was busy with homework both times. normally taerae would meet you for lunch in the student union every other day in between his music theory class, but he hadn’t come by since then. he’d barely said two words to you at choir practice last night.

was this why? he’d decided he liked jinah instead? he couldn’t face you after... using you? 

taerae would never do that. not to you. probably not to anyone.

then again, you’d never talked about whether what was going on between you was exclusive or not. and what it meant to you; what he meant to you. had you completely misinterpreted this whole situation?

“and the middle finger...” jinah trails off and the mental picture you have unfortunately painted in your head of the scene taking place is enough to make you gag.

“that one’s gonna reach as far up as possible,” taerae explains. if you had known your best friend was offering masturbation classes out of his dorm room, you probably would’ve been more careful about where you were sitting on his bed.

“i don’t think i can reach that far,” jinah huffs with a frustrated sigh. “it kind of hurts.”

“relax,” taerae soothes. “it’ll feel better if you relax.”

your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sound of the audible gasp that escapes you, but your elbow hitting the door blows your cover. you stand up quickly as taerae’s door swings open-- revealing you in the doorway to taerae and jinah.

... and revealing jinah sitting on taerae’s bed and holding a guitar (quite clumsily, if you may be so brazen) in her hands; taerae sitting next to her and seemingly offering some sort of instruction.

“you--...” you stutter, surprised and also incredibly relieved to find that the lessons taerae was giving were much more wholesome than you’d been forced to imagine for the past few minutes. “oh thank fuck holy shit.”

as the uncontrollable string of grateful curse words leaves your mouth, jinah clears her throat awkwardly and stands up; removing the guitar strap from around her neck and handing the instrument to its owner.

“sorry for interrupting,” you mumble, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth as taerae glares at you. 

“no, it’s okay! i have to finish an essay for tomorrow anyway,” jinah replies, picking up her bag and walking towards the door. you step to the side for her to get by, awkwardly smiling as she calls behind her, “thank you, taerae! see you next week!”

jinah retreats down the hallway, leaving just you and taerae alone in a tense silence.

“what are you doing here?” taerae asks, rather unceremoniously. “it’s a thursday night. you have tutoring on thursday nights. that's why we have movie night on fridays.”

you nod, still leaning against the doorframe. “my last appointment cancelled so i--... i wanted to come talk to you.”

“oh,” taerae replies with a nod. “okay.”

you frown. “okay?”

“yeah,” he says, looking down at his guitar in his hands; starting to strum it lightly. “okay.”

your eyebrows raise in shock as your best friend seemingly shrugs you off. you walk over to him and snatch the guitar from his hands by its neck.

“HEY!” he protests as you bring the instrument over to its stand and place it there annoyedly (but carefully; you’re not an asshole). “i was playing that.”

“what the fuck is the matter with you!?” you snap, turning back around to face him. “you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks!”

taerae visibly gulps; eyes falling to the floor. 

“and this is how you’re gonna act?” you scold, folding your arms across your chest. “after we...”

for some reason you’re unable to say it. taerae is silent-- seemingly holding his breath as he waits for you to continue. coward.

“i came here to talk to you about everything and--... and then i heard you through the door giving jinah a fucking guitar lesson,” you explain while rolling your eyes. “better than the lesson i thought you were giving her, but...”

taerae looks up at you now; brow furrowed as his head tilts to the side confusedly. “w--... what kind of a lesson did you think i was giving her?”

you blink back at him; unsure of whether to tell the truth or not. but taerae catches on before you can commit to a lie.

his jaw drops in shock. “you thought--... did you think--”

you look down at your feet: embarrassed, anxious, and just plain sad after the events of the last couple weeks. this mixture of emotions forms a lump in your throat that you are now hopelessly trying to suppress. “i’m really sorry for interrupting. and for listening a bit. i just don't know what happened. i thought we were--... i thought you felt the same way that i did, but... you just must be really upset with me and i don’t know what i did but i’m so sorry and i really miss you so i wanted to talk to you and i just was... i dunno, i thought--”

taerae cuts off your rambling by standing up and wrapping his arms around you tightly. against your neck, he soothes, “ssh, baby. it’s okay-- it’s all okay. i promise.”

“i like you,” you confess into taerae’s sweatshirt. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know this would happen. but i really like you, tae.”

"fuck-- i like you, too. of course i like you, too,” he says, pulling back to look at you. “and this is all my fault.”

you sniffle as you ask, “what did you do this time?”

“something really, really stupid,” he replies with a sad smile.

mirroring his expression, you quip, “what else is new?” 

“yeah, yeah,” he accepts with a laugh. cupping your cheek in his hand, he runs his thumb across the skin sweetly. “i thought i was the one who fucked up... by falling for you.”

“... oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“oh is right,” he says, leaning in and kissing your lips gently. “i honestly wasn’t sure what to do about it. i didn’t want to hurt you and i thought maybe just... avoiding you for a bit would make it easier for me to stop having feelings for you. but it didn’t. it just hurt you and me more-- and it was really immature. i’m so sorry.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, having forgiven your idiot of a best friend before he even apologized. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you more,” taerae says, peppering your cheeks with kisses. you giggle; taerae grinning before attaching his lips to yours again.

“but, um,” you say quickly, pulling back to meet his gaze. “i’d love to put in a request for no more guitar lessons with the door closed, if the suggestion box is still open.”

“it is,” taerae says with a laugh. “suggestion accepted, approved and implemented.”

“and, uh, maybe they don’t have to take place on your bed,” you say, biting your bottom lip and hiding your face in his chest.

“i will have you know my conduct is strictly professional at all times,” taerae replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “but you’re completely right. not to mention, it was probably rude of me to let her sit on my bed... without telling her what it’s covered in.”

“TAERAE-YA!” you shout, hitting his chest as he pulls you toward his bed-- pushing you down gently onto the mattress and climbing between your legs with ease. “you do wash your sheets, don’t you?”

he just laughs.

“tae, that’s gross,” you reply, shaking your head as he cups your center over your jeans. your protesting starts to waiver as he applies more pressure to where you need him most. “you--... you really should--”

“enough, enough, baby-- of course i wash them,” he replies, hooking his fingers around the belt loops of your jeans and shimmying them along with your underwear down your legs before discarding them on the floor. then he smirks at you, adding, “but sometimes i do wonder what the point is when you’re just gonna get them dirty again.”

“fuck,” you whine as taerae admires you. he’s licking his lips like he hasn’t eaten in days-- and he hasn’t. you wonder how he’s survived this long without you.

“so,” he says, starting to circle your clit with two fingers. his rhythm isn’t steady though; it’s intoxicatingly teasing. “what did you think i was teaching in these ‘lessons’?”

you feel your face heat up again at the mention of your faux pas. “don’t make fun of me.”

“never, baby,” he says; a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “i’m just curious what you think i’m enough of an expert in to be qualified to teach.”

“i--... oh my god,” you say, shaking your head with embarrassment. “i thought you were teaching her how to finger herself!"

“hmm, i guess i can understand the confusion,” taerae runs his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and painting it across your stomach. “since playing guitar requires so much skill with your fingers.”

“shut up,” you reply, pouting at him.

“no, really,” he insists with a nod. as he pushes his middle finger into you gently, you gasp at the sensation. “like, to play a chord; each of your fingers needs to hold down the correct string and in the correct spot. like, to play a d chord for example.”

taerae strokes up into your walls with his middle finger, causing you to whimper. “see this middle finger needs to be on that ‘high e’ string. and then the ring finger...”

plunging another finger into you, your hand reaches to grab onto taerae to steady yourself. he smiles at you, pressing both fingers firmly against your walls now. “will sit nicely on that ‘b’ string right here.”

as he works his fingers against your walls lazily, you whine-- desperate for more friction and soon. your prayers are answered when taerae inserts a third finger, stretching you carefully until he’s able to push it all the way in.

“and finally, the index finger is going to go...” he laughs lightly before pushing his index finger into the spongy, firm spot in your walls that only he has ever been able to find. as you cry out in pleasure, taerae presses kisses to your thighs. “you might’ve guessed, but that one’s on the ‘g’ string. and listen to that beautiful sound it's making.”

“did you--... did you plan that g-spot joke?” you ask breathlessly in between pleading moans as taerae picks up the pace of his fingers. “you’re the--*hic!*... worst person i know.”

the little hiccup from pleasure that separates your insult sends taerae reeling. “fucking perfect, huh? every inch of you.”

“baby, please,” you beg, self-control low after two weeks without taerae. “wanna cum. please, wanna cum for you.”

taerae moans and, from the way he’s looking at you, you know he’s just as desperate as you are. he falls to his stomach now between your legs as he says, “was gonna try to... keep my mouth off of you. show you i really like you. you-- not just your pussy but...”

“fuck it,” you both say at the same time.

lips attaching to your clit, taerae wastes no time in pushing you closer to the edge as he laps, sucks, eats at you-- one leg of yours hooked over his back as he continues to work you with his left hand. 

“tae,” you whimper, hands in his hair as you grind your hips into his touch. “g’nna cum... please, gonna cum.”

taerae whines and, with the state you’re in, you don’t even notice how feverishly he’s grinding into the bed. he switches to sucking, lips tugging perfectly on your clit and it’s all over for you.

“fuck, i--... i--... m’cumming,” you moan, taerae’s name falling from your lips a few dozen times as you come down from your high. “oh my god.”

taerae is noticeably quiet; removing his fingers from inside of you, he laps at the juices that drip out of you with his eyes closed. you know he really likes you... but it’s very possible he likes your pussy just as much. you’re not complaining.

“tae,” you call sweetly, sitting up on your elbows. “baby? come here-- want you to fuck me.”

he opens his eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up a bit. “um... so, about that.”

his gaze trails down to the crotch of his jeans and you follow it to find a nice, big wet spot soaking through the denim. 

“are you serious!?” you whine in frustration; sighing as taerae smiles at you sheepishly.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes with a cute little pout. “will you forgive me if i say it’s because you’re just too hot?”

you roll your eyes-- grinning at him. “i’ll consider it.”

“thank god, because i think i can probably make it up to you...” he says, sitting up and grabbing your jeans from the floor. “after some dinner.”

you laugh. “are you asking me out?”

“i totally am,” he answers with a smile.

“you’re sure you’re not too... full?” you joke, grabbing his hand in yours. “you did just eat.”

taerae shakes his head, smirking at you:

“trust me-- i’m never full when i’m with you.”

[danieyells]

hi there,

thank you so much for all the voicelines you post !! if it’s okay, can i request subaru’s ?

thank you again !

You're welcome! At some point I might go back and put in the ones I leave out because they don't appeal to me as much lol but since i always end up posting 99% of them anyway I think it's enough for most people hahaha. It's all of them now! Sorry for the delay.

I WAS GONNA OMIT ONE OR TWO BECAUSE OF SPOILERS but eh i'll just warm for like. extra spoilers. since after doing more code peeking it wasn't the spoiler i thought it was. SUBARU IS A SWEETIE THOUGH. I also read Subaru's chats which were put in the code recently and. Man this guy needs anxiety meds. I have a small guess as to what his stigma is, but we'll learn in a few days anyway.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting. It's wonderful to see you again."

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"It looks like there's a notice for you. I'd be happy to go pick it up for you if you've got your hands full. Oh, forgive me if I'm overstepping."

oh no he's anxious about helping--

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"I really am so lucky to be surrounded by so many kind people like you."

"I never thought I'd get the chance to enjoy the lifestyle of a student until I came to Darkwick. Every day truly is fulfilling here."

it feels like subaru is like. . .the only one who actually enjoys school life here. . .or who really enjoys being here period lmao. . . .

"You think I'm always smiling? Ha ha, I hear that a lot. It just happens when I'm around all of you."

"I may be the captain, but it's just in name. I think Haku is much better suited for the job than me."

"I've been working since I was four, so people often said I was mature for my age. But the truth is, I've still got a lot to learn."

that makes two characters whose parents have essentially been keeping them from normal life and normal childhood for work reasons since they were four year olds. . . .

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"I tend to just have hot water for breakfast. I know it would be better for me to eat a proper meal, but it's just so much effort."

DO WE REALLY HAVE TO START WITH "I NEED THE GHOULS TO EAT PROPER FUCKIN MEALS". . . .

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm sorry I'm so late. The campus is so crowded I can never manage to walk in a straight line, so it always takes me longer than I think. Silly, isn't it?"

baby you're hardly the first person i've met with anxiety about crowds. you're fine.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What would I do without Haku's help? Hotarubi would be a mess without him."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I wonder if I should apply early to take out any common artifacts I might need for this mission. I'll ask Haku what he thinks..."

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Ah!  You surprised me there... I just got back from a small errand. Do you need something?"

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Ever since I was a child, the performing arts were my only focus. Maybe that's why people always say my mannerisms are so peculiar. It bothers you too, doesn't it?"

poor boy doesn't know how to act if he isn't acting. . .he doesn't know how to exist off-script. . .no wonder he made a deal with a demon. it's probably the first thing he's ever done for himself.

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'd like to go to the cafeteria, but the line is always so long. I feel bad taking time to choose while people are waiting behind me. The bar of entry feels a little high."

i am once again suggesting subaru get anxiety meds. hell go to sinnostra and get some weed, i bet they sell that. i hear it can help.

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm just about to go and meet a friend. I hate to inconvenience you like this, but if it's something urgent, could you speak to Haku about it instead?"

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What am I going to do? We're supposed to be meeting up in an hour... If I cancel now, they'll hate me..."

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Whew... I'll walk you back to your house, {PC}. Oh, it's no problem at all, I assure you! I wanted some fresh air anyway."

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"I have an Anomalous Ecology test coming up. It's such a fascinating subject, I couldn't help but stay up all night studying. Now I'm a little sleep-deprived."

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm going to stretch my legs a little. I might not have a show to practice for right now, but I need to keep putting myself through my paces. I'll get rusty otherwise."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm sorry my phone's been making so much noise. I recently downloaded an app by mistake, and it won't stop sending me notifications..."

awww he's also technologically incompetent. . .poor guy was probably raised with such a heavy focus on his career he just. never needed a smartphone. anyone he needed to contact or who needed to contact him was probably always very close by. it sounds like he didn't even properly go to school before going to Darkwick. Somebody please take this boy on a walk. like anywhere. take him to a library. buy him a churro. can sho make churros? this is somebody who's never had any sort of normal social experience and sees how different he is and wishes it weren't the case, unlike Ritsu who assumes everyone else is like him, i think he'd like to have some more Experiences.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"... ...Oh! Hello, {PC}—I didn't even notice you there. My mind was somewhere else."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Good morning! Sorry? My hair's messy? You're right, it's sticking right up at the front... That's embarrassing. I'll fix it right away."

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I usually have lunch in the dormitory. I do eat on the terrace with Lyca every now and then, but he seems so busy these days..."

Lyca is one of the members of Obscuary, btw! Seems like he and Subaru are friends.

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I didn't take you for a night owl, {PC}. Since you're here, I suppose I'll stay up a little longer. You're sure you're okay? You're not sleepy?"

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Do you visit Sinostra very often, {PC}? I see... Oh, no reason. I was just making conversation. Ha ha."

why do you ask that. . .a certain mafioso captain wouldn't happen to be suspicious of you would he. . .or maybe you owe them money. . .or maybe you used to be part of Sinostra and moved to Hotarubi. . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's getting late, {PC}. How about we finish this tomorrow? Thank you for keeping me company all this time."

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to come all the way to my room to wake me up—I'd feel terrible. I do very much appreciate the thought, though."

it's okay buddy jin already makes them do it, one more pit stop won't hurt.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Oh, hello, {PC}. Sorry, I was actually just on my way out. I should be back by evening—do you mind if we speak then?"

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Lyca has seen my message, so why hasn't he responded to it? I hope nothing bad has happened to him..."

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Lyca will adapt well to human society, I'm sure of it. I'm so relieved that Darkwick chose to trust him. I can't thank you enough for your help."

he really likes Lyca huh? that is his dog.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"You can't sleep? Then let me tell you some stories. Legend has it that evil spirits appear once you've told a hundred. Now, what number was I up to..."

BOY IS TRYNA GET YOUR ASS HAUNTED.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I don't want to seem like I'm testing you, I just... I get really anxious sometimes... I'm sorry. I'm being weird, aren't I?"

he's the type to ask 'are you sure you love me? are you sure you wanna be with me?' after you get married and move in together and own a house and have two kids with another on the way. he's the hyper anxious 'i'm sorry we disagreed about our favorite colors do you hate me?' friend(affectionate) I wonder though, is he apologizing for seeming like he's testing you because he's using his stigma to see what you've been up to or something. . .? Probably not lol it's more likely he just keeps asking if you like him

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"There is no time like spring. Everyone seems more relaxed this time of year. It's reassuring to see."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I have some sakura mochi. I was just about to prepare some tea to go with it—would you like to join me?"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"They have no control over whether they bloom, and yet they get made a spectacle of nonetheless... Oh, sorry—I was talking about the cherry blossoms."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"There are many different flowers growing in Hotarubi, but I think the wisteria are my favorites. This is the best time to see them, so you should take a walk around."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Hot today, isn't it? It's always raining in Hotarubi, so it does provide a little escape from the blazing summer sun, but... Ha ha. It is very humid, isn't it?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Summer makes me think of the ghost story Yotsuya Kaidan. The scene where Oiwa becomes hysterical, having realized her her face has been disfigured— incredible."

Yotsuya Kaidan is one of the best known japanese ghost stories! It's extremely violent, so read the summary at your discretion. The scene in question has Oiwa shown her reflection by her sister's boss to see that the cream she was given by a woman who was in love with her husband was actually some sort of poison that instantly scarred her face. She grabs a sword and goes to kill her, only for her to accidentally slit her own throat.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Hotarubi House holds regular festivals during the summer months. If you need a yukata to wear, I'd be happy to pick one out for you."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I don't mind scary stories, but when that biwa in the tea room started playing by itself, it did make me jump a little..."

slight spoiler, although you can probably figure it out from this but. . .Zenji is a ghost. Subaru currently can't actually see him or hear his voice. . .only Haku, the pc, and, perhaps not so oddly, Towa can afair. All of his youtube content doesn't have him or his voice in it because he can't be recorded by cameras. So Subaru doesn't realize that the biwa playing on its own is actually Zenji playing the biwa.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"The air has gotten crisper, and the leaves are changing color. I know it's only natural for the seasons to shift, so why does it make my heart ache so much?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Oh, these? They're some chestnuts I found. I know—I should give them to Sho. I'm sure he'll be able to make something delicious with them."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"That's another kuchikiri tea ceremony under my belt. It's an annual tradition where one cuts open a tea jar to reveal the tea that was preserved from the first harvest."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"On long autumn nights when the moon is shining beautifully in the sky, it's hard to resist taking a walk outside. Don't stay out until too late though, {PC}."

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"...Oh, {PC}. Good morning... I had a hard time getting up today. It must be the cold... Ha ha. Not very captain-like, is it?"

Jin, Taiga, and Ed are all prone to not getting out of bed. and Yuri falls asleep on operating tables when he has down time. Trust me Subaru you are perfectly captain-like.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Today, I'm going to order ingredients from one of my favorite stores so we can all make negima—tuna and scallion—hot pot together. Please, do join us."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"It's cold out today. I was just thinking about lighting the fire. Would you like to come and warm up with me?"

oh subaru you don't even know how that sounds

(between 8pm and 5am)

"People say winter makes you want to snuggle up with someone, but I find that a good blanket does a much better job."

i agree that blankets are much easier to manage than people lol. probably warmer too.

His birthday: (February 20th)

"A present? For me? Thank you... I didn't expect you to do anything for my birthday, so I'm a little caught off guard. I really appreciate it."

Your birthday:

"Um... Happy birthday.  I really hope this year will be a wonderful one for you."

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. I hope I can depend on your guidance and support again this year."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Chocolate? Oh, It's Valentine's Day, isn't it? Does that mean these are for me...?"

nah i just wanted you to look at them. YES THEY ARE FOR YOU BBY. why would you be showing him chocolate if it wasn't for him! On any day, not just valentine's day!!

White Day: (March 13th)

"These are for you, {PC}. I put in a special order for monaka from my favorite confectioner in Ginza. They're wafers filled with bean jam—I hope you like them."

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Earlier, Haku told me he was switching houses. It gave me a real shock— I'm very relieved that it wasn't true..."

i bet subaru made the most scared kicked puppy face and started apologizing for being such an awful captain and blamed himself for that haku would go to a different house and haku had to quickly explain it was just a prank for fear that subaru might burst into tears.

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Happy Halloween. I know it's nothing special, but I've prepared some treats for the occasion. Oh... But you're more than welcome to play a trick instead."

please don't trick him. april fool's day was hard enough for him.

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Merry Christmas. We already have our New Year decorations up in Hotarubi, so it has a real east-meets-west atmosphere now. I hope everyone is okay with it..."

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Everyone seems busy at the moment. Maybe I should use this opportunity to tidy the garden..."

(13 affinity and above)

"{PC}? Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just worried because you were so quiet..."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"You're back... I'm so relieved. I was worried I'd done something to make you feel uncomfortable..."

this man shakes like a chihuahua 24/7. like you can taste the anxiety coming off of him. i love him. he's so pathetic(affectionate). i wanna squeeze his hand reassuringly and tell him everything's gonna be okay. i wanna hug him and pat his head. i wanna take him places so he learns more about the world outside of working. i wanna watch him do schoolwork excitedly because he's never really gone to school before and it's a new and exciting experience. i want him to experience the most mundane aspects of life with wonder.

good boy. yeah. get him anxiety meds /nodnod

[msschemmenti]

Are You Jealous?

Chessy x Reader

prompt: jealous chessy :)

a/n: i rewatched parent trap recently and the craziest plotline in that movie was martin and chessy being lovers. both of them were clearly gay.

a/n: sorry this took so long lol unedited and probably pretty bad

“I’d love to see you tonight.” Y/n smiled down the phone. It’d been about a week since she and Chessy had seen each other and with the house to herself, Chessy was going to take advantage.

“Well Nick and the girls are going camping for the weekend, if you’re up for a drive out to the vineyard?” Chessy asked hopefully.

“I think I can swing that. What time should I be there?”

“Everyone should be gone by 5. So anytime after should be good.” Chessy grinned.

“I’ll be there by 5:30. SHould I bring anything?” 

“Just yourself. I’ll make us some dinner and we can crack open something from the cellar to go with.”

“Sounds divine. I’ll call before I head out. See you soon.” Y/n smiled down the phone and waited for Chessy’s reply.

“Can’t wait.”

-

“Dinner was great Chess. Thank you so much.” Y/n smiled around her glass as she sat at the kitchen island watching Chessy move around the kitchen. They’d been dating for about four months and were as smitten as a couple could be. After Meredith, Nick started renting out the vineyard as a wedding venue as a bit of passive income. Y/n’s company had been one of the first to host a ceremony on the grounds. she’d been lost and had somehow driven up the Parker’s driveway and was met with a very beautiful woman waving her hands to stop her. from there their romance only flourished. 

“anything for you honey. after i finish these dishes we can go sit under the stars for a bit?” 

“i’d love to. why don’t i dry do we can start relaxing sooner? i need as much relaxation as i can get with this current bride.” 

“well get your cute butt over here and get to work. the stars won’t wait forever.” chessy grinned, reaching to pull the woman close by the waist. The couple washed in tandem, giggling and stealing kisses as they went. really just enjoying each other's company. Just as they put the last dish away, voices floated through the open floorplan startling the couple apart.

“Chessy, who’s car is that?” Hallie called being the first to enter the house. It wasn’t long before more footsteps were heard and before they knew it they were no longer alone. Now standing face to face with a very intimately domestic scene.

“Uh. Hi guys. What are you doing back so early?” Chessy asked, stepping toward the small family.

“Rain at the campsite so we decided to try again next weekend.” nick shrugged eyeing the guest placing the last of the dried dishes in the cabinet.

“Bummer. I’m sure next weekend will be better. We’ll just be going then.” Chessy answered quickly grabbing Y/n’s elbow in an effort to leave the kitchen. Before she could even move around the island all four members grinned mischievously at the nanny and moved in.

“Wait Chessy, aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Annie asked looking past Chessy and toward Y/n. Chessy fixed them with a withering glare but sighed pulling Y/n forward as she prepared for the embarrassment. 

“Everyone this is Y/n, my friend,” she smiled toward the twins in censorship.

“Y/n, this is Nick Parker. He owns the vineyard. Elizabeth James, and their daughters Annie and Hallie.” 

Y/n smiled, politely extending her hand to shake each member of the family’s hand before stopping briefly at Elizabeth’s. “I know this is a long-shot but you wouldn’t happen to be the Elizabeth James? Like the wedding dress designer Elizabeth James, would you?”

“Guilty,” Elizabeth smiled.

“Oh I love your work. I’m a wedding planner and all the best dresses I’ve seen in the last 12 years have come from you.” Y/n gushed causing Elizabeth’s cheeks to glow in a blush. 

“How sweet, I’m so glad my dresses seem to rank so well.”

“Oh most definitely, I hope you’re still designing by the time I finally have a wedding of my own. I’ve always imagined I’d be in an Elizabeth James original for my special day.”

“I would love that, have you already got ideas? I could roughly sketch you something since we’re all here for the evening.” ELizabeth offered. Y/n took a step around Chessy to follow ELizabeth before turning back to her girlfriend.

“Do you mind Chess?” Y/n asked quietly, knowing that if Chessy said she did, she’d politely decline and hope she got the chance another day.

“No, go ahead, knock yourself out. Just come find me when you’re done.” Chessy smiled, pushing the woman over toward Elizabeth with a smile.

“Great, I can even show you some recent stuff I’ve been thinking about.” Elizabeth grinned, pulling Y/n through the hall toward her work room. As soon as the women disappeared Chessy could feel three pairs of eyes on her.

“Your friend, hm?” Hallie grinned rounding the counter to one side of the nanny.

“How come we’ve never met this friend before?” Annie asked rounding to the other side, effectively caging Chessy between them.

“That’s none of your business. And rain at the campsite? When’d you all become such babies?” Chessy chided, poking the girls in their ribs. They giggled helplessly as the older woman tickled them. “Wanna watch a movie?”

-

The movie had been on for half an hour and the other women had yet to return. Chessy’s attention had been divided the moment they pressed play. During the quieter parts of the movie, she could hear giggles floating through the halls. Chessy’s eyes wandered from the screen in hopes of catching a glimpse of her girlfriend returning, but she wasn’t rewarded. Both Annie and Hallie had anchored themselves on either side of Chessy, legs stretched to each end of the couch. They’d both been commenting on the film and asking questions and Chessy tried to keep up but after noticing her gaze shift to the hallway for what felt like the 100th time they took to giggling and quietly talking to each other. 

As the credits rolled across the screen, Chessy was finally granted some reprieve from her torture. Elizabeth and Y/n came around the corner arms linked, quietly giggling over a sketchbook. 

“Oh Y/n, you’re just delightful. I can’t believe you’ve done four weddings here and I’m only just meeting you.” Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief.

“My brides are always extremely high maintenance. They make it a bit hard to socialize at all!”

“Well, I’ll have to have you come by my local studio sometime. We just have to get together again.”

“Oh Elizabeth, that’d be great. I’ll have Chessy give you my info and we can connect sometime soon.” Y/n smiled as she placed her hands on Chessy’s head affectionately over the back of the couch.

“I’ll be sure to share that.” Chessy mumbled gazing up at the two of you. Both of their eyes still on the sketchbook. 

“Perfect! Girls, it's getting rather late. Say goodnight.” Elizabeth smiled down at the twins while rubbing her hand over Y/n’s shoulder. The girls obediently wished their goodnights before leaving the room. As they left Y/n caught sight of the time herself. 

“It is a bit late, I should head home. I’ve got a few early meetings. It was lovely meeting you all. Chess, will you walk me out?” Y/n asked, finally meeting the older woman’s gaze. The older woman followed behind Y/n closely and as soon as they were out of sight of the family her hands were resting on her waist. 

They came to a stop outside of Y/n’s car and the younger woman turned to face Chessy, “Well that was fun.” Y/n smiled as Chessy backed her into the car. 

“Well I’m glad someone had fun.” Chessy mumbled wrapping her arms around Y/n’s waist with a pout.

“And what’s that supposed to mean? Did you not have fun tonight?” Y/n frowned as Chessy sighed and dodged her eyes.

“I barely saw you tonight.” Chessy huffed. 

Y/n looked over the nanny’s face with a smile. Seeing the jealousy simmering in her mind. With a grin Y/n splayed her hands across Chessy’s chest and pulled on the collar of her shirt. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” 

“What? Pshh, No.” Chessy rolled her eyes. 

“Oh I don’t think that’s true at all.” 

“Well, I think you spent the whole evening with the Elizabeth James.” 

“Chess…” Y/n dragged out, pulling the older woman closer to her.The older woman grumbled but ultimately sighed as the younger woman pinched her cheek. “You know I would’ve stayed if you asked.”

“You seemed so excited. Listen I’m just grumpy the evening didn’t go as planned. I don’t particularly like sharing you.” 

“Well next time, we’ll aim for no interruptions hm?” Y/n smiled sweetly.

“I like the sound of that.” 

“Now give me a kiss so we can say goodnight.”

taglist: @theonefairygodmother , @sleep-deprived-athlete

[intern-seraph]

forget-me-not (Chp 1)

also on ao3

Summary: For the first time in your seven years alive, you meet someone new in your small town. Little do either of you know that your brief friendship will bind you together long, long after you are forced to part ways.

A/N: hi :)

shoutout to matcha twstjam for being my cheerleader thru this insane, ongoing journey

For those who have been following me on my socials, i'm sorry you know that this fic has been in the works for over a year as of last month. I was originally intending on publishing it only when it was complete, but it very quickly grew way out of hand and I realized that it would definitely not be complete any time soon. Still, I wanted to put it out into the world! So I decided to publish the first chapter! When will the rest come out? Who knows? I certainly don't lol ALSO the presence of forget-me-nots in the actual fic is, at most, debatable lmao i just thought it was a cool and fitting title

Anyways, I have a deep, desperate need for more jewishness in fan content, so I'm filling that dearth myself.

————

You peer out from behind the gnarled oak tree at the edge of the town park. Its trunk is almost half as wide as you are tall, and its boughs are so thick and heavy that the branches droop under their own weight. Once, there was a rope swing that hung from one of the thicker branches. It was destroyed in a storm a few years ago, and nobody has bothered to replace it since. As one of the few children living here, you don’t mind its absence much. After all, you only ever come here to read. Usually you sit on the other side of this very tree, enjoying the shade and the rustling leaves. However, today someone’s taken your spot. The stranger seems to be only a few years older than you, dressed entirely in black. Their clothes shimmer as light filters through the leaves, and you know that the fabric must be fine and expensive. Slivers of their pale skin peek out from the ends of their sleeves and the hem of their robe. It’s a far cry from the homespun woolen garments and rough, sun-kissed skin of your neighbors. The most bizarre thing about them, however, are their spiraling black horns.

You hug your book to your chest, unsure of what to do. You’ve never seen this child before, after all, and you know all of the other kids in town (all four of them, that is). Even worse, you just know that whoever this is must be rich and therefore important. Why are they here, of all places?

“Um…” You tiptoe over the tree’s massive roots and draw closer to the stranger. “Are you from around here?”

The stranger startles, and you yelp as the world burns bright green for a moment. With a grunt, you fall back and land squarely on your butt. You lie there for a second, blinking away the spots in your vision before your throat begins to tighten and tears form at the corners of your eyes. Beside you, the stranger’s blurry face appears. Your sniffling turns into sobs, and you cover your face with both hands as you start crying.

“H-hey,” says the stranger, touching you lightly, “don’t cry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

You wail even louder, rolling onto your side and curling up into a ball. The stranger pats your shoulder stiffly.

“I’m sorry,” they whisper, voice breaking. “Please don’t be scared.”

Finally, your crying peters out. You hiccup as you wipe your tears away on your sleeve. “I-I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say. The stranger remains silent. “That was magic, right? I scared you and you used your magic…”

“That’s okay. Are you hurt?” The stranger extends a hand into your field of view and hauls you up onto your feet with little effort. Now that you can see clearly, you lean closer to examine his face. He’s a boy around your age, you think. His cheeks are round and soft but you can see where his baby fat is starting to recede. His lips curl into a small pout, accentuated by the embarrassed flush coloring his cheeks. You can’t help but gawk at his electric green eyes. They’re so distinct that, without taking his horns into account, their color and slit pupils alone would tell you that he’s not human. When he notices you’re staring, he shifts back in discomfort. You jolt and giggle abashedly.

“No, I’m okay. Uh, who are you? Are you from around here?” You start to circle him, eyeing his odd features with interest. Are those scales crawling up the back of his neck? Why is the back of his robe moving so weirdly?

“No,” he mumbles. He holds something close to his chest. A book! “I’m… from really far away. My grandmother brought me with her to do some —” his nose scrunches up “— official business. But that’s boring so I left.”

“Won’t your grandma be worried?”

He puffs up like a particularly proud pigeon. “Nuh-uh. I’m big and strong so I can take care of myself!” As he speaks, the thing moving under his robe finally lifts enough to reveal itself: a thick, scaly black tail. It swishes from side to side as he practically preens. Cute. “What about you? You’re here all alone!”

“I know everyone here, duh.” You crouch down and pick up your book, then trot over to sit in your usual spot now that it’s empty. The stranger pouts at you, puffing out his cheeks. You turn your nose up at him. “This was my spot first.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. You can sit next to me, I guess.”

He blinks slowly at you, fingers tightening on his book, before he breaks out into a brilliant smile and plops down at your side. You take note of his sharp fangs. Part of you is tempted to touch them, but you restrain yourself well enough. “What’s your name?” asks the stranger.

You give it to him immediately, pausing to spell it out letter-by-letter just to show off. He nods, but when you ask him the same question, he balks.

“Is it okay if I don’t tell you? I don’t wanna… uh…” He waves his hands for emphasis. “I don’t want my grandmother to hear about me.”

“Well then what should I call you?”

“Hmm…” He furrows his brow and scrunches his eyes shut. Then, he gasps and beams at you. “Nickname! You can gimme a nickname!”

“A nickname, huh? How about…” Your voice trails off. You stare at him, pursing your lips. First, you glance up at his horns, then his tail (thumping against one of the oak tree’s roots), then back up at his horns. “Horn…ton? Yeah, Hornton!”

“That sounds weird.”

“Too bad! You’re Hornton now!”

Hornton rolls his eyes. He opens the book in his lap, clearly trying (and failing) to look smart and above-it-all, but you can see the pointed tips of his ears turning red. Giggling, you follow his lead and open your own book. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch his petulant expression melt into contentment while he reads. He’s cute like this. He’s cute in general — which is a thought that makes you want to gag — but you especially like his sweet little smile. Although you were loath to share your spot beneath the tree, he does make for good reading company. That is, he’s quiet and doesn’t take up too much of your personal space. Before you know it, the sun is setting.

You dog-ear your page and nudge Hornton. “Hey, it’s getting late. You should go back to your grandma.” Hornton jolts, but doesn’t react as violently as he did earlier. His tail thuds against the tree trunk.

“Oh, yeah. I gotta go!” He doesn’t move, only fidgeting with his robe. “Uh, thanks for sitting with me.”

“Why’re you thanking me? It’s no problem.” You pause and look away. Feeling your face grow hot, you say, “Will you be back again?”

“C-Can I?”

“Yeah! I mean, you’re a pretty decent reading buddy, so… yeah.”

“Yes! I’ll be back tomorrow!” He smiles so broadly that you think it must hurt.

“Cool! I’ll be here after noon, that’s when our classes are over.” You stand up and start patting your clothes to get rid of any dirt. Then, you turn and give Hornton a grin of your own. “‘S nice meeting you! See ya!”

He waves timidly, eyes wide and almost shimmering. You don’t give it too much thought, you just start sprinting back down the dirt road leading into town.

—

“Mister Crowley!”

You slam the front door open, practically vibrating with excitement. The schoolmaster yelps from further inside your house, then rushes over to greet you. He’s pouting, feathers positively ruffled. Gently, he grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a once-over.

“Now, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you!”

“I was at the park!” You grin and hold up your book.

Crowley sighs and shakes his head. He wags his finger at you as he starts walking you to the dining room. “Now, child, what have we said about staying out late?”

“Uh… tell you?”

“Indeed! I have been very generous with allowing you free reign of the town! Nevermind all your tchotchkes and trinkets! If you’ll be gallivanting around like this in the future, make sure to inform your very magnanimous guardian beforehand! I was about to send the entire neighborhood out to look for you!”

He probably wasn’t. You know him well enough to know that. But the concern is appreciated. “Sorry,” you say.

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Crowley mutters. He pulls out your seat at your little dining table and returns to his own chair. Just at a glance, you can tell that he’d tucked in to his dinner before you came home. As you pick up your fork, a soft little body butts up against your calf. You squeal with delight and duck under the table to scoop up Grim, your bratty street cat. He mrows petulantly, but lets you cuddle him. It had taken a week of relentless begging for Crowley to let you take Grim in, and you had to pinky promise to take good care of him. Then, your friends got the bright idea of trying to bind the cat to you as a familiar (despite your lack of magic), and while it hasn’t worked yet, it certainly helped warm Crowley up to the idea. Something about his sweet baby becoming a beast tamer. You’re not sure what that is, and you’re definitely not a baby, but if it works, it works.

The air is filled with the quiet clink of silverware. After a while, you speak up. “I met someone today.”

Crowley nearly chokes. He pounds on his chest, coughing into his fist. It takes a second for him to recover. “You what?”

“There was a boy at the park,” you explain, “we read together.”

“What did I tell you about talking to strangers?”

“Nothing, we already know everyone in town.”

His mouth opens and closes silently. Then, sighing, he shakes his head. “Well, yes, but you were supposed to say that we don’t talk to strangers.”

“He wasn’t scary or anything,” you lie, remembering how you startled each other.

“Very well! Be careful, though. If something were to happen to you, I don’t even know what I would say, er, do!”

You pointedly ignore that slip-up in favor of finishing your meal. Pushing your chair away from the table with a screech, you grab your dishes and your cat and say a quick “good night!” to your guardian.

—

First thing in the morning when you and Crowley arrive at the schoolhouse, you’re accosted by Ace and Deuce. It’s mostly Ace doing the accosting, really, but Deuce joins him in hanging on your back like the world’s heaviest and most annoying koalas. You shake them off and whip around to start wrestling with Ace. Deuce takes his loss better, choosing to sit on the grass and watch you and Ace play fight. Crowley clears his throat several times, probably to get your attention, but you’re preoccupied and he gives up quickly in favor of unlocking the door and stepping inside. There’s a holler nearby, a series of rapid footsteps, and another heavy body falls on you with a grunt.

“Epel!” you wheeze out, squirming on top of the also-squirming Ace. “Can’t breathe!”

“Oh!” Epel rolls off of you, and you roll off of Ace. “Sorry, looked like you were havin’ fun!”

“Was fun,” Ace mumbles, “until you two crushed me.”

“Oops.”

“You didn’t die, though,” you say before you get up. “Also you started it!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“How do you guys do this every morning?” says Jack as he trots up to join you all on the lawn. He rolls his eyes in a remarkable impression of his mother when she’s scolding all five of you. “We’ve gotta go to class.”

“Ace started it!” you repeat.

“Whatever, c’mon.” Jack hauls both you and Ace up by your forearms while you both giggle. He shakes his head, marching you both into the schoolhouse with Epel and Deuce hot on your tails.

"Ah, there you are! I was wondering what was taking you all so long. Take your seats! We have Professor Trein visiting from the city today for our lesson."

Ace groans as he flops into his seat. You lean over and smack his shoulder. Deuce takes his own seat beside you, trying his best to look enthused.

Professor Trein works in the capitol as a history professor for the university. While he's nice enough (and his familiar Lucius is cute and fluffy), every time he comes to give a lesson at your schoolhouse is somehow more boring than the last. You sink down in your seat, ready to daydream until class lets out. When Professor Trein takes Crowley’s place in front of the blackboard, you feel a tap on your shoulder. Without looking at him, you take the slip of paper Ace passes.

‘my mom wants u to come to a party tonite’

Aside from a time scribbled beneath the words, there’s no other information. Great. History lessons with Professor Trein followed by a party where you’ll be stuck at the kids’ table. Again. At least you have a few hours to hang out with your new friend after school.

—

After class, Epel hands out little brown sacks full of apples to everyone. “Ma ‘n Pa said that they’re ‘not fit to sell’ or somethin’, and Meemaw said I should give ‘em to all of you.” You sling your sack over your shoulder, say your “see you later!”s to your friends, and march off to the park.

Beneath your tree, Hornton is waiting. You sprint towards him, grinning, and he looks up at you with wide eyes before returning the smile. He has his book in his lap, open to a different page than he left on.

“Hi,” you say shyly, hugging your sack of apples to your chest. “Were you waiting long?”

“Not really. I mean, maybe? Dunno, I didn’t really notice.”

You sit next to him and set the apples between your splayed legs. Fishing a plump red one out, you wipe it on your blouse and offer it to him. “Here!”

“Why do you have apples?” He eyes it curiously, hand hovering over it.

“My friend’s family has an orchard so he gave us all some after class.” You wave the apple around. “Take it! They’re good!”

Hornton takes the apple. He inspects it in the sunlight for a moment, then takes a bite. His eyes light up as he sinks his teeth into the apple’s hard skin, and he demolishes the fruit in less than a minute. Licking the juice off of his lips and fangs, he mumbles a messy thanks. You just smile and bop your temple against his. As you pull your novel out of your bookbag, you take another apple from the sack and shine it on your trousers. Out of the corner of your eye, you spy Hornton staring longingly at the sack.

“You can take another if you want,” you say.

He jumps, green eyes going comically wide. Cheeks flushed a bright ruby-red, he snatches another apple from the sack and rubs it clumsily on his very expensive robes.

“Do you like apples?”

“I do now,” he replies. He’s visibly struggling to keep his attention both on you and the book in his lap.

Curious, you lean over his shoulder and try to make sense of the foreign words in his book. Your brow scrunches up. “What’re you reading?”

His body goes tense the moment you touch him, but he doesn’t flinch away. When you glance up at his face, his expression is more severe and excited than you’ve seen yet. “It’s about arky… archee… uh, it’s about buildings and art! And this is the chapter about gargoyles!” He jabs an excited claw against an illustration of a beastly statue whose jaw hangs open. Water pours down its chin. The page (and the ones preceding and succeeding it) is clearly more worn than the rest of the book. “We have a bunch at the — I mean, at home — and Grandmother saw that I really liked them so she gave me this book!”

“What’s a gargoyle?”

He looks at you like you just confessed to murder. Shaking his head, he flips back a few pages. “They’re ‘ornamental stone carvings of animals or people that project from the side of a building and serve as the spout of a gutter.’ You’ve seen one before, right?”

“No.” You lean in closer to inspect another illustration. “They’re weird.” He stares at you, aghast. You roll your eyes. “Cool weird. We don’t have these out here.”

"Oh… that's a shame. Maybe one day you could come see the ones in my home."

You peer up at him. "Maybe. I gotta ask Mister Crowley."

"Who's that?"

"I live with him. He's weird."

"Cool weird?"

"Weird weird." You nudge him with your shoulder. "Do you live with your grandma?"

"Yeah."

"So it's you and her and your parents?"

Hornton goes completely quiet. He fingers the gilded edge of the page. Softly, he mumbles, "They aren't here anymore."

"Oh. Mine too. That's why I'm with Mister Crowley."

“... Do you know what happened to them?”

You shrug and pluck another apple out of the sack. As you wipe it on your trousers, you reply, “Nah. I dunno if Mister Crowley knows, either. He says he found me in a box left outside the school. There was a note, but it only said my name.”

“Oh.” Hornton looks away. “That’s sad.”

“I guess.” You shrug again. “If they didn’t want me, I don’t want them neither.”

He stares at you, wide-eyed. All he manages is another quiet, “Oh.”

Scowling, you take a bite out of your apple. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Let’s just read.”

“Okay. I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He seems to wilt at your curt statement. You add, “Really, it’s fine. Please, I wanna get through another chapter before I have to go.”

“You’re going somewhere?”

“Yeah, some party at my friend’s house. It’s not even for him, so I dunno why I’m invited, but I think his mom invited everyone in town.” Another bite. You look over the words on the page, not really processing them. “So I gotta go in a couple hours.”

“That must be nice,” Hornton sighs. “Getting invited to parties all the time.”

“What? No, it’s boring. It’s just boring grownup stuff most of the time. It’s only fun when it’s a birthday party, and there’s only four other kids in town so those never happen.” You emphasize this with a long groan.

“Really?” He thinks on this for a moment. “I guess it’s like the parties Grandmother throws.”

“What kinda parties?”

“Uh, they’re… big and fancy, but there aren’t any kids at all. And I can’t go dance or talk to people. And… um… it’s a lot. I don’t like them that much.”

You watch him as his voice shrinks and his head droops. Gently, you bop your temple against his. He perks up a little. With a small smile, you say, “Maybe I can invite you to my birthday party this year. It’d be fun!”

For a moment, you’d swear his eyes water. He beams at you, reaching out to grasp your hand. “I’d like that.”

—

The party at Ace's house is full of tipsy adults while you and your friends drink your juice in a corner. Well, everyone except Ace. His mother parades him around to talk to the other adults who apparently know him. None of you envy him — he looks miserable.

It turns out that the party is for Ace's brother. He emerges from a side room with his girlfriend on his arm and introduces her as his fiancée. When Deuce gives you a questioning look, you lean over and tell him that that means they're going to get married. The adults cheer and sing and dance for hours longer; the celebration only pauses for bedtime (which is fine with you, the party was boring anyways).

The next morning, Crowley wobbles out of his room with most of his weight held up by his cane. He has a faint green tinge to his face, but that doesn't stop him from walking with you to the schoolhouse. This is all, of course, just to announce that class is canceled for the day. You gather with your friends and, after a brief argument, decide to play in the park together.

That's how you find yourself nearly tripping over a familiar figure sitting beneath the oak tree. Hornton looks up from his book, gasps, and reaches out to help steady you. You wheel your arms around haphazardly for a moment before you breathe out a sigh of relief. Then, you take in Hornton's face and gasp.

"Oh! You're here today!"

Before you can give a proper greeting, Ace hollers your name. Both you and Hornton turn to look at the four boys coming to join you. Ace stops, bare toes curling in the grass. He eyes Hornton warily, the sloppy heart painted around his left eye scrunching up. "Who're you?"

"Uh…"

"He's Hornton and he's my friend," you say for him.

"'Hornton?'" Epel repeats. He snorts. "That's a stupid name."

"It isn't my real name," mumbles Hornton.

"Your name is stupid, Epel," you snap. You cross your arms and stick out your tongue. He returns the gesture.

"You guys are children," says Jack. Epel appears comically devastated at the deadpan insult. You huff softly.

Deuce snorts. "You're the youngest!"

"By a month!"

"Your friends are loud," Hornton whispers. You nod. He picks at the page he's on, a tiny film of gold foil flaking onto his black claw. "Should I go?"

"No!" Your friends turn to stare at you. Hornton blinks slowly, pink tinting his cheeks. He smiles bashfully, shrinking a little into his robes. Ace, meanwhile, gets that certain spark in his eye that instantly makes you shoot him a glare in warning. He grins, showing off one of his missing baby teeth, but keeps his mouth otherwise shut.

"Wait, is this the kid you mentioned yesterday?" Deuce asks. He peers over at Hornton. "I thought you were kidding."

"Why would I kid about that? That'd be weird."

"'Cause you're weird," Epel mutters, and you lunge for him while he shrieks with laughter and ducks away.

"You've got pointy ears," says Jack, his own fluffy white ears swiveling towards Hornton before he turns to look at you, "kinda like your dad."

Ew. From your spot on the grass wrestling with Epel, you sit up. "Mister Crowley is not my dad."

"But you live with him?"

"So?"

"I live with my Meemaw," Epel adds. "She's not my mom."

"See?"

Hornton observes your conversation. He tilts his head and hums thoughtfully. "I live with my grandmother, that doesn't make her my mother."

"You talk funny."

"Epel!"

"What? It's true! He talks all fancy like Professor Trein!"

"Fancy?"

"Fancy!"

You roll your eyes and shove Epel. Ignoring his indignant squawk, you scurry over to sit beside Hornton. "Wanna hang out with us?"

He stares at you, mouth agape. Again, he smiles shyly. "You're really inviting me?"

"Duh," Ace drawls. "Why else would they ask?"

Hornton tucks his book into his robe. A tiny green light sparks at his fingertips for a moment as he does so. Then, he stands up. He holds his curled fists close to his chest, guarding. Ignoring his nerves, you grab his hands and use him as leverage to stand, too.

"Whaddya wanna play? Or talk about?"

"Uh… I don't know?"

"Do you guys think you'll ever get married?" Deuce blurts out. All 5 of you turn to stare at him. He goes pale before blushing furiously. "Wait, no, I mean —! Since Ace's brother's gonna get married I was thinking about it!"

You hum. "I'unno. Maybe? Mister Crowley cried last night when I asked him if I'd ever get married."

"Ew."

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna get married," Jack asserts. His tail swishes with excitement. "My mom and dad said that I'll know when I found 'the one.'"

"What does that mean?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. But they've been together for forever."

"True. Ace?"

He makes an exaggerated gagging sound. Complete with gestures. "No way! My brother and his fiancée are so gross with each other all the time! It's weird."

"It's gross 'cause he's your brother, dummy."

"And?"

"My mom's not married," Deuce says, plucking at the grass. "She says my dad was a… uh… a 'good-for-nothing scumbag'. She gets all sad when she talks about him, so I dunno about getting married."

"My Grandmother told me that I have to get married one day." Hornton shrugs. "But I don't really think about it."

"So you've never thought about your wedding?" you ask.

Ace shoves you. "You're the only one who has! You're always reading those kissing books."

"So?"

"Kissing books?" Hornton repeats.

"They're called romance and they're good!"

"Real life is grosser," says Ace. You shove him. "Hey!"

"What if we did our own wedding?" Jack interjects. Everyone pauses to look at him. "It can be like training. For when Ace's brother has his, I mean."

"Yeah but who would be who?" Deuce glances over at you, then Hornton. "Why don't you guys play the people getting married?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, yeah! Me 'n Ace 'n Jack 'n Deuce will put up the… the thing!"

"Thing?"

"A chuppah! We gotta make a chuppah!"

"We gotta get some big sticks!"

"I think I saw some branches over on the other side of the tree."

"Nice, Jack! Hey, you 'n Hornton should make some rings! We'll be right back!" Deuce scurries off with the other boys, leaving you and Hornton standing in a stunned silence.

“What?”

“I guess we’re playing wedding?” You shrug and start looking for wildflowers. Hornton watches you with wide eyes. You glance over at him. “C’mon! Help me make the rings!”

He crouches down next to you. Giving you a helpless look, he holds his hands to his chest in hesitation. “Um… how do we do that?”

“We’ll get some flowers and tie the stems! Like making flower crowns! Oh oh oh! We should make flower crowns, too!”

“Oh. I’ve never made a flower crown before. Can you show me?”

“Yeah!” You kneel next to him with a fistful of brightly-colored wildflowers. Hornton watches in rapt attention as you slowly weave their stems together, forming a ring just big enough to fit you as a bracelet. He claps when you present it. Then, without a word, you reach up and drop it onto one of his horns. Hornton sits in stunned silence for a moment before he blushes and mumbles a quiet thanks. He takes the leftover flowers and carefully weaves a crown for you, this one large enough to actually be a crown. His brow furrows as he finishes the crown and then places it on your head. Giggling, you touch the petals. “Thank you, honey!” “H-Honey?”

“Yeah! That’s what the ladies in my romance books call their gentlemen! If we’re getting married I should call you that!”

“Oh!” He smiles, shoulders hunched, then grabs one of the few remaining flowers. “Here, uh, honey. I’ll make your ring.” He winds the stem around your left ring finger, sticking his tongue out in deep concentration. Once he’s knotted the stem, he uses a claw to snip off the excess. Without your prompting, he holds out his own left hand for you to do the same.

“We match!” you whisper-shout, holding your hand next to his.

“Mhm!” His tail thump thump thumps behind him. “Wait, let me try something…” Hornton leans over and touches your flower crown and ring. A bright green light envelops the both of you, and you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut. Once it fades, you crack open one eye. The flowers seem unchanged.

“What’d you do?”

“I tried a spell my Grandmother taught me. It’s s’posed to keep plants from withering!” He twists the flower ring on his finger. “I mean, I don’t know if I did it right, but if I did then we’ll always have these!”

“I like that.” You take off your own ring and cradle it in your palm. “I like it.”

A holler from Epel breaks your focus, and you turn to look at the oak. Beneath it, the boys have stuck four massive branches in the ground. Now, they’re arguing over who will give up their jacket to use as a canopy. Beside you, Hornton sighs and takes off his cloak. With a flick of his wrist, it floats up to rest atop the branches and shade the ground beneath it. The boys shut up, seeing the matter settled.

“Okay, I think we gotta start with… uh…” Deuce frowns and scrunches up his nose. After a long moment of deliberation, he looks at the rest of you helplessly.

“You gotta give each other your rings!” Ace shouts.

You tilt your head. “But we already did that while you were getting the sticks.”

“Then give them back and do it again!”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you gotta!”

You roll your eyes but slide the flower ring off your finger. Hornton does the same, cradling his delicately in his palm. You drop yours in his hand and take his. Pinching the stem between your fingers, you glance over at Ace. “Aren’t you supposed to say something?”

“I’m not the one who’s… uh…” His nose scrunches up as he thinks for a moment. “Mom called them an o-fish-ant?”

“You’re not a fish,” Deuce supplies helpfully.

“It’s ‘officiant’, stupid,” you interject. “Did you guys even pick someone for that?”

“I’ll do it,” says Jack, “‘cause if I don’t, this’ll never be done. And then I’ll miss lunch and my mom will yell at me.”

“You’re taking this way too seriously.” Ace folds his arms behind his head. “We’re just playing!”

“A wedding’s a wedding.”

“Whatever, do your fish thing!” “It’s ‘officiant’!”

Jack clears his throat. You and Hornton turn to give him your rapt attention. His nose scrunches up and one fluffy ear flicks at the air a few times before he begins speaking. “Uh, we’re gonna… start with you giving each other your rings.” He pauses, pursing his lips. “... Go on. Do it.”

You raise your left hand dutifully, and Hornton slides the flower ring onto your finger. You do the same for him. Both he and Jack look so serious about this that it’s hard not to giggle. “Okay, now what?”

“Um…”

“Oh! I remember one’a my cousins got married and she walked ‘round her husband a bunch!”

“That sounds weird.”

“It was! But she did it!”

“How many times did she do it?”

“I dunno.”

“Wouldn’t you get dizzy?” Deuce mumbles.

“I mean, she seemed fine.”

You glance at Epel, shrug, then look back at Hornton. “Wanna do it?” He nods eagerly. Again, you try not to giggle. Hornton beams. “Okay, I’ll go first! Epel, how many times should I do it?”

“Uh… I dunno, until you start getting dizzy?”

“Bet I can do more than you,” you whisper to Hornton. He stares at you, wide-eyed, then grins so sharply you barely recognize him.

“Bet you’re wrong.”

You both laugh. Taking a deep breath, you start to walk around and around and around Hornton. He spins with you, wobbling. Meanwhile, your friends count every lap. One, two, three, four — you get to seven, and decide to tap out. Hornton puffs out his chest and, a little green in the face, starts circling you, instead. He also makes it to seven.

“Aw,” you mutter. “It’s a tie.”

“I totally could’ve beat you if I went first.” You stick your tongue out at Hornton. He giggles to himself. Then, he turns to Jack. “So, uh, what next?”

“Umm…” Jack’s face screws up in contemplation. His ears swivel back and forth for a moment, before he hesitantly replies, “Uh… you’re married now?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” you say.

“Aren’t we s’posed to… kiss?”

You stare at Hornton, who appears just as flustered as you now feel. “I think so.”

“Wait!” Ace reaches into his coat pocket and retrieves a small pinecone. He sets it on the ground between you and Hornton. “You’re supposed’ta crush it first!”

“Isn’t it supposed to be glass?” Jack asks, and Ace shoves him. “Hey!”

“Do you wanna go get glass to step on?”

“... No.”

“‘Kay, then pinecone it is!” He gestures enthusiastically at the pinecone. “Crush it! Go! Go! Go!”

You squeeze Hornton’s hand, giggling, and in unison you both lift a foot and crush the pinecone under your feet. It gives a loud, crackling crunch, and its little seed pockets burst and go flying. Your friends hoot and holler in celebration.

“‘Kay, now you need to kiss!” Ace declares.

Hornton turns beet red. “Kiss?”

“Like, for real?” you squeak.

“Uh, yeah, otherwise it’s not a wedding.”

You fidget with your ring, face hot. Hornton stares at you with wide, uncertain eyes. All the while, your friends (well, everyone but Jack) chant, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You’re the one to take the initiative. Squeezing your eyes shut, you lean in and give Hornton a brief, chaste kiss. It lasts only for a second, and from his startled squeak, it’s almost as if he expected that nothing would ever happen. Behind you, Epel and Ace gag dramatically.

“Ewww, you actually did it!” Epel shakes you by the shoulders and cackles through his words. “Gross!”

“You wanted us to kiss!” you protest. Before you can say more, he lifts you on his shoulders. Your words become a shrill squeal, and you can see Ace and Deuce struggling to lift Hornton, as well. “EPEL! PUT ME DOWN!”

“You’re married!” he crows. “You kissed someone!”

For his part, Hornton buries his face in his hands while Ace and Deuce finally manage to lift him up together.

“Uh… mazel tov,” Jack mumbles.

“We’re not actually married!” Even as you say this, you can’t help your rosy cheeks, nor the way your heart races as you meet Hornton’s electric gaze. He smiles bashfully as he grips Ace and Deuce’s shoulders for balance.

Hours later, after you and Hornton and your friends have spent the rest of the day dancing together and chatting and playing tag, you and Hornton are the only ones left at the park. Everyone else went home as the sun began to set. You run your fingers over your ring’s petals, fascinated by their softness.

“Did you have fun?” you ask, voice small. “I know my friends can be a lot…”

“Yeah.” A faint flush brings life to Hornton’s pale face. He smiles, and the sun casts him in gold. “I haven’t had this much fun in forever. Thank you.” For a moment, he hesitates, then he reaches to grab your hand. “Um… will you be here tomorrow?”

You nod, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Mhm! Do you… wanna read together, maybe?”

It’s as if the sun is rising again when he beams. He gives your hand a squeeze. “I’d like that.”

Though you’re loath to leave, you force yourself to give Hornton a squeeze in return before you pull back. “I gotta go before Mister Crowley starts worrying. Bye, Hornton.”

“Goodbye.”

—

When you go home, you can’t stop yourself from spinning the flower ring on your finger. Crowley asks you what you’re giggling about over dinner, and all you do is grin and show him the ring and crown. He rolls his eyes, muttering about children and their whimsies (whatever that means), and shoos you off to bed once you’ve finished and cleaned up. Before you crawl under the covers, you take off the flowers and place both pieces delicately on your nightstand.

The next day, once school is over, you run to your oak tree. You’re wearing your ring again, unable to stop looking at it and its perfectly-maintained petals. With an excited shout of “HORNTON!” you swing around to the other side of the tree.

And it’s empty.

Your heart drops.

‘Maybe he’s doing something with his grandma?’

The next day, you approach your tree again, less enthused and more nervous. He’s not there.

‘I thought we were gonna play together again.’

Day after day, you check your tree. Day after day, you’re greeted with no sign of the boy you’d started to befriend. Spring turns into summer. Ace’s brother gets married, and all you can think about during the ceremony is a scaly black tail thump thump thumping against the ground. When the leaves of your oak tree begin to turn gold and orange and red, you stop checking.

The ring and the flower crown remain just as pristine as they were the day they were made. You leave the crown on your dresser and wear the ring to class every day.

Years pass. You grow up. Your friends start taking extra lessons after classes a few times a week to train their magic. A new teacher from the city starts to visit, a young man named Divus Crewel. He teaches chemistry and alchemy, and you take to it like a fish to water. The private lessons you get from him almost help to soothe the beast of envy that grows in your chest every time you leave your friends to their magic classes. By the time you turn 13, the ring no longer fits. You keep it and the crown in a little wooden box tucked lovingly beneath your bed. Sometimes, you take them out and marvel at how little they’ve changed. Your friends, however, change just as rapidly as you do. Their magical prowess grows at a startling rate. You content yourself with cheering from the sidelines and working on your alchemical skills. Ace and Deuce try to bind Grim to you as a familiar first when you’re 16 (It doesn’t work, but your hair briefly catches fire). They next try when you’re 18 (It almost works. Crowley says it may have to do with your utter lack of any magic. You try not to feel resentful.). At last, on your 19th birthday, they succeed. It’s quite possibly the best gift you’ve ever gotten; Grim’s life is prolonged for as long as he’s bound to you.

By 20, you and your friends (by some miracle) all get accepted to the university in the city, the same one that Professors Trein and Crewel teach at. You start working under Crewel as a student alchemist (He says you’re one of his most promising students, especially because you have no magic to use as a shortcut. For once, you don’t wilt at the mention of magic.). You see your first real gargoyle on one of the older campus buildings. You take a photo, your mind conjuring up a fanged grin and excited electric green eyes. ‘Does Hornton still like gargoyles?’ you wonder as you save the photo. Years later, at your graduation ceremony, you take another photo of the gargoyle. Now, it’s decorated with a few fabric-flower leis that your fellow graduates managed to get over its head. ‘Look, Hornton, the gargoyle is celebrating, too!’

You return to your hometown after receiving your degree. Crowley graciously allows you to stay at home (although you suspect he might just like having another hand to help around the house) while you continue your work as an alchemist. Crewel has hired you full-time as a lab assistant. Every day you take the train into the city for work. Sometimes, when you get all caught up in your head and the novelty of watching the world pass by through the window, you find yourself reaching for your left ring finger to twist a ring that isn’t there.

‘It’s been almost twenty years,’ you chastise yourself, ‘why are you still thinking about that boy?’

Despite your age, your experience in romance is limited to the cheesy romance novels and cheap bodice-rippers that populate your bookshelf, interspersed between your textbooks and notebooks. For some reason, you could never bring yourself to try dating. Every time the thought comes to you, you feel the phantom sensation of a soft stem wrapped around your finger. Your friends tease you about it. Ace calls you a dweeb. Epel says you’re acting foolish over a stupid game you played as children. Deuce laughs and does a pantomime of your fake wedding. Jack just shakes his head knowingly. He’s the most understanding about it — wolves mate for life, and he gets why you would take a play-wedding to heart. That doesn’t stop him from getting a jab or two in on occasion, though.Some days, you pull the box out from under your bed and look at the flowers. As always, they look just as perfect as the day they were picked. Now that you’re older, you’ve learned more about magic. The spell required to make and maintain such perfect preservation requires both skill and a wellspring of magic. The amount of magic alone would send most experienced mages into overblot. This only stokes your curiosity. How did Hornton, a child hardly older than you, cast such a spell with ease? Who was he? It’s a question that haunts you. It’s a question you know you’ll never get an answer to.

[critter-of-habit]

When I watched the new What If episode with Peggy & Nat I immediately thought of you, your art, and what your reaction would be. Especially since it was kind of a retelling of Captain America & The Winter Soldier.

What are your thoughts on the episode?

Seeing as you asked, I WILL TELL YOU MY MANY THOUGHTS. WITH PICTURES.

under the cut for length lol

First of all, as usual the animation, particularly the lighting, was incredible. Also the effects! The explosions, smoke, everything. Always blows me away how much effort and love these animators put in to What If.

I love that it's Winter Soldier based because by god do I love that movie - but I also love that it's so very different to my AU cos that means I can keep going with it lol.

Okay here we go with the highlights - Blatant flirting and showing off:

This???:

Just how in sync they were with every fight scene - even in the Battle of New York when they had only known each other for a few hours.

HEY LOVELY. LOVELY:

Angst. And how soft Nat is here:

"Hey, Peg. I got you."

Natasha's inability to sit in a chair properly:

Peggy making a star wars reference and Nat calling her out on it like .. Nat you RECOGNIZED the reference you're a nerd too

"You know I always wondered how you got all those GI Boys to follow a woman into war: question answered." ie. "I'm so into you right now":

This Natasha stabbed Dreykov to death with a corkscrew and I love her for it.

Natasha instinctively putting herself in between Peggy and Steve even though they're both twice her size

I've already mentioned but, the choice to focus on Natasha's face in this scene:

Nat's face here:

Natasha only getting taken down by the robots because her gay-Peggy-focused-ass gets distracted when Peggy runs off to protect Steve: (I'll come back to this point later as a negative)

MELINA.

Was anyone else looking to see if Yelena was there

"Let's unpack that later, shall we?"

"I don't know whether to kiss you, kill you, or dissect you." "Let me guess, all three?"

I bet the Captain Carter film was baby Nat's gay awakening lol:

Melina's glorious slo-mo "grandma, it's me, anastasia" coat drop:

Peggy running to save Nat T_T

These shots:

Nat wearing the same outfit from Winter Soldier:

Natasha "too-loyal-and-infatuated-for-her-own-good" Romanoff going along with Peggy again to look for Steve without even being asked. (in stark contrast to the end of Winter Soldier when Natasha did not go with Steve to look for Bucky, I might add)

New reaction image:

Peggy and Nat calling and reaching out to each other when the portal opens and ALMOST making it - then Natasha punching the ground in desperation T_T

These two look SO COOL and I can't wait for the 1602 episode.

Negative points:

Rehashing Ste/ggy all over again - we already HAD that and it was endgame, why do it again?

As much as I adore Natasha's intense loyalty, it's very one sided in this episode and I'm wondering if that's intentional. Peggy is hyperfocused on Steve and leaves Nat behind to run after him multiple times, even though he is in an entire suit of armor and is FINE and Natasha is the one actually getting injured. Then she's leaving at the end without saying goodbye to go find Steve again (despite there being no reason to think he's alive? he EXPLODED??) even though Natasha just went through a trauma too and shouldn't be abandoned. Kinda feels like Peggy is taking Natasha's always being there for granted and I really hope it's addressed in following episodes (though I doubt it will be - it'll just be Steve focused again -_- )

Okay I think I'm done. This was a LOT I'm not sorry I've been waiting for more content for SO LONG I can't wait for the rest of the episodes to rip my heart out and stomp on it :3

[yoru-no-seiiki]

SERIOUSLY, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI, I WILL FUCK YOUR MOM WHILE YOU PLAY ROBLOX.

link to [part one] for those unfamiliar w/ my yan! cool kid works

@yuiiasathesilly both parents actually. these three come from a relatively affluent family. someone has to pay for all the hairdye yan! cool kid uses. in fact the both are them are kinda disappointed that the boys haven’t been using their resources as much as they want em to. cool kid has abused it the most, having an entire apartment ready for yan! reader to be kept in

@onyanjune mc does have backups! and good eye. the reason why they only deleted it in their phone is cause it’s what they have on them at all times. meaning that they’re giving our prez some leeway instead of immediate action in terms of blackmail.

in terms of their efforts, it’s purely cause they want their integration into the family to be smooth sailing. before yan! loser was an outcast he used to be pretty well known for his rich family, his brothers, and his high grades. yan! reader noticed that he usually kept to himself and suffered a little bit in terms of his siblings outshining him so much so they set out with that plan to make him completely reliant on them. it was mostly a backup that they had for yan! cool kid but he’s too above other people in general to care. same with yan! prez.

they aren’t trying to make their beloved jealous, hell they’d die if they ever accidentally hurt him in any way, shape, or form. yan! reader worships him too much. it’s more of side effect if anything. they do like to pretend as if they don’t think about him 24/7. which is frankly more annoying to yan! cool kid since he can’t exactly threaten/beat up his future spouse like he can with his brothers.

anyways off to our scenario (inspired by @carnivorousyandeere and i’s talk about sex positive/liberal parents lol)

“dad, i’m going to pursue someone from my class.” yan! cool kid leaned back and forth, rocking his dinner chair.

“oh? that’s great son. i was worried that someone as handsome as you wouldn’t put your face to good use.”

“yes yes, your father and i were worried that you weren’t bringing anybody home. all of our colleagues keep talking about how their children have been sleeping around but here we are with your monk of an eldest son and shut-in of a youngest.”

ouch.

“when i found out that all those condoms we bought you weren’t being used for sex i was devastated!”

“right son! and the lingerie sweetie! tell them about the lingerie!”

“mother, father! we’re eating!” yan! president yelled. he was already used to his parent’s lack of respect for privacy. it wasn’t their crude words that made him uncomfortable, it was the fact that his younger brother was coveting what was already his.

but his mother, as always, does not listen, “and we spent a lot of time getting those for you three to enjoy. and for what?”

“well, who is this lucky person?”

“they’re—“

“i’m full.” yan! loser stood up, wiping the food off his face and leaving. the door to the dining room slammed shut with a bang at his wake.

“as i was saying, they’re my classmate. the one whose house i went to before.”

“oh! the one whose pictures you have all over your room.”

“. . . yes.” yan! cool kid almost regurgitated out his drink from their nonchalant invasion of his room. his rebellious instincts told him to scream at them and question their behavior. but if he wanted to get their help he had to play into his role perfectly.

“oh son! just tell us what we have to do, we’ll support you all the way.”

bingo!

or not.

there was one thing yan! cool kid failed to factor into the equation. the fact that yan! president had been doing such a play since before the younger one even learned how to talk.

“what’s wrong, pumpkin?”

yan! president began his part with a gag. an expression of guilt, disgust and a hint of grief.

“it’s just that. . . i was planning on asking them out too.” and then, the tears. “they actually work as the secretary to the council and . . . no one else has been there for me like they have.”

“oh dear.” their mother looks at the two of them in worry. she already knew this was going to get messy quick.

“i’m sorry, dearest brother. i just can’t bear the thought of losing them.”

“you—“ yan! cool kid slammed his hands on the table. now at his full height which causes his chair to fall behind him. his fist pulled back, ready for impact and aimed squarely on the bridge of yan! president’s glasses.

“why don’t we all calm down, okay?” but their father manages to pull him back, overpowering the young man easily. with a smile he eases yan! cool kid away while their mother held yan! president in her arms. “we’ll think of a way for both of you boys to get what you want.“

“you. prepare a room for a new addition to our home.” their mother spoke, her fingers running through her son’s locks “we’re family we’ll get through this together.”

meanwhile under the cover of dark. . .

yan! loser pants, a hand in his pants as he pumped his cock to full mast. his meager, melodic moans muffled by one of your used pe uniforms covered in dried sweat and your scent. his eyes trained at the video of his eldest brother taking you.

he hated it. hated the way you seemed to be enjoying it (you weren’t). but since they looked alike it was the closest he could get to an image of you and him together. even if his brother couldn’t last a few rounds.

he moans one last time as he releases his spent into a condom, swiftly tying and throwing it to the rest of the pile that threatened to spill over from within the bin.

in his post masturbation haze, he wonders how all that liquid would look inside you instead and whines as he feels the blood rush back down there again.

[luvtak]

birthday blues, psh

☆ pairing fratboy!sunghoon x reader

☆ genre/tw fluffy fluff fluff, a twinge of angst, sunghoon has a case of the birthday blues :(( i wrote the mc to be quite introverted, hand holding lmao, cheek kisses! a little miscommunication, a very sweet and soft getting together fic <33

☆ w/c 1705

☆ a/n happy holidays!! i began this fic on sunghoons birthday but because i am terrible at planning anything i just finished tonight lol, so heres a little present from me!! i hope you like it <3

masterlist

With the bad music and the smell of cheap beer, you find yourself regretting walking through the door. The house is bustling with conversation and rhythmless dancing–not a sweater in sight despite the frigid air outside. Not one person you know or like is occupying the four walls around you, and even worse, your drink is weak. 

The melting ice is enough to kick start a negotiation with yourself, you’ll leave after this drink… tell Sunghoon happy birthday, and then we’re gone. You’re not sure why you even bothered… you’ve been on three dates with the boy and barely kissed twice. While he’s handsome and funny, you don’t know if that's enough to endure another mindless frat party while your roommates are cozying up at home watching the new season of Love is Blind. 

While initially you held some reservations about going on another date with a frat boy, Sunghoon proved himself to be very sweet.

 The first date was nice, dinner and a movie (action which was ironically very boring) and a chaste cheek kiss that kept you up way past your desired Tuesday bedtime. His lips were soft and his eyes were kind–a sort of unfamiliar shy glimmer staring down at you. He was ever the gentleman, opening doors and making sure to tell you how pretty you looked… He was perfect. Which was odd for a guy who spent all his time with boys who carried a carousel of girls around. 

The second date was quick but sweet, a speedy lunch in between classes, leaving a smile on your face until you got home that night. He had asked about you the whole time, wanting to know how your day was, and if you had had a good time when you went out before. And finally, the third, wherein the very pretty boy asked you to come to his birthday party before placing a swift kiss upon your lips. 

It was almost like you were possessed. Feeling a great urge to be there to celebrate with him–very unlike the person you claim to be, but he asked so sweetly. His fanged smile was large and on display, and he had a look in his warm eyes that reminded you too much of an overloved puppy. Too much time with those eyes and you were agreeing before he could say please. 

Now, you wished you had the gift of prophecy. If you knew you wouldn’t see the boy once since walking through the doors 45 minutes ago you never would have said you’d come. Of course, it’s his birthday and you’re sure he’s busy being shuffled along friends and pretty girls who’ve long since held his favor, but he asked you to come and if you have to spend another minute listening to mindless chatter you might never speak to him again–no matter how much you like his company.

The boys next to you are crass and the girls much more indulgent than you feel prepared for. Enabling their counterparts with enough alcohol and shitty pick up lines to put you out for the whole year. And while listening in to others' conversations isn’t the nicest thing to do, the loud groanings of, “Hey, pretty lady…you’re heating up this whole place.” were just too nauseating to ignore. 

While slurred words are always swoonworthy, it may be time to head out. 

It is barely eleven, but you’re ready to go–ego bruised and brain ready to rest with some mind numbing television. Not too mention, phone long dead from too many tiktoks watched to pass the time. You can’t believe he didn’t even make an effort to say hello. You made it clear you didn’t like this sort of thing–would rather spend a Friday night away from the hubbub and cheer of a college party that lost its charm the spring of your freshman year. 

Whatever, if he didn’t care you’re just glad he showed his true colors sooner rather than later. While it sucks,  it’s no use crying over another too pretty boy. 

Peeling yourself from the back corner, you find yourself jostled this way and that until your skin meets the chilly December air. A momentary shock of relief rings through your gut, finally away from the rotten place a younger you loved, and an older you was over. 

The night for all its misadventures did end up being a pretty one; stars barely peeking through the light covered city and shining down on the car packed street. Straining your neck to see them for just a minute before making your way to your car, you eye a startling figure sitting on the frat house’s roof. 

A boy with a curious resemblance to Sunghoon, but why would the birthday boy be out here instead of at his own party? His hair is mussed and though he is far up, it’s easy to see the messy state of his clothes–sweatpants and a sweater one could only describe as something a grandfather would wear. 

“Sunghoon? What are you doing up there?” it's too far, but you think you can see the little lift of his lips, a look of relief gracing his features. 

“What do you mean? I’m waiting for you, didn’t you get my message?” His voice, while covered by the echoing party and the nighttime sounds, still carries over the expanse of the front yard as if he was in front of you–as confused as it was, it does little to ease the annoyance of before. 

“What are you talking about Park? I’ve been here for an hour and haven’t gotten anything from you.” 

“Oh I’m Park now? But it’s my birthday.” betrayed by your own temper, you can’t help but let your teeth show. His ever composed countenance running away as he whines his words. 

Maybe it’s dramatic and maybe he did send you a message, but the bitter pain of feeling ignored won’t go away just because he’s cute. 

Even if he is really really cute. 

“How am I supposed to know if you really did send me a message and aren’t just saying that now that you’ve been caught?” 

“Come on now, Silly, charge your phone.” he’s grinning now, tongue running along the points of his left canine. “I’d invite you up, but it looks like you may just push me off.” 

“Why are you up there anyway? There's a bunch of people in there waiting for the birthday boy.” 

It could be your imagination, or a trick of the shadows, but it’s almost like that one word made his whole body falter. Straight shoulders falling below his ears and long eyelashes hitting the peaks of his cheekbones. Eyes closed and figure sad. 

From a young age you’ve been rather curious; looking through hidden presents and asking too personal questions to the people around you, but you don’t think you’ve ever been more interested than now. Looking at this handsome boy–too early to love, but too late to ignore–sitting alone on his birthday is enough to make you pause. 

“Sunghoon? Are you okay? I won’t push you off if you help me up.” 

While he doesn’t answer your question, he does reach out a hand to show you the way. Laughing loudly when you stumble through the tree branches, and quick jabs at your obvious roof climbing inexperience. It’s only when you’ve safely landed next to him that you can really see the slightly blue expression on his face. Of course he’s smiling–you don’t think he’s ever looked at you without one, but there's something invading his form. An ever present dusk sitting along his spine. 

The both of you sit in silence for a long time, looking out at the street and laughing at the party goers retreating through the yard. Young men and women stumbling and giggling their way through another weekend. It’s only when the music changes from obnoxiously loud electronica to obnoxiously loud rap does he speak. 

“I’ve never really liked today, you know? I get so excited for it to come, thinking it's gonna be a magical day that changes everything. Then I wake up and it’s just another boring day. I guess I haven’t learned how to deal with the disappointment, 

I’m sorry you were in there alone, I– I wish I knew you went inside. I was hoping I’d catch you going in and bring you up here. I thought maybe if I spent it with you, it could be life changing. Exciting enough to be worth another year.” 

How interesting birthdays are, to be so momentous and yet so disenchanting. You wait 365 days for a moment to pass, another year older with no magic in sight. Although you can’t ignore that he believed you to be life changing. How sweet, to think after only three dates he’s already decided that you’re who he wants to spend his day with. Face warming and hands shaking, you’re able to let out a soft laugh, before finally answering, 

“Well, maybe we should just treat it like any other day. No cake or presents, I won’t even wish you a happy birthday." It's strange how this seemingly mean sentiment lights up his face: brown eyes becoming crescent moons, a goofy grin settling along his mouth. A look worthy of a birthday. 

“What should we do instead?” 

“Hmm, if you come with me right now we might be able to see the rest of Love is Blind with my roommates. Kazuha and Intak swore they wouldn’t watch the weddings without me… Only if you want to.” 

And the way you looked at him with wide eyes and a hopeful smile, how could he say no. How could he tell you that all day he wished he could spend it with you.

He helps you down and keeps your hand in his as you begin the trek back to your apartment. The night is cold, but his figure next to yours heats you right up–brightening the walk back to your apartment, and making you thank whatever power made you stop to look at the stars, never knowing the tall boy was wishing on every birthday cupcake that you’d join him on the roof and change his life.

© LUVTAK

[angry-geese]

Sea, Swallow Me

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Warnings: not OSHA compliant. hurt/comfort, light angst, ex-husband Gojo. angry/hate sex, unprotected sex, oral (cunnilingus), fingering.

Synopsis: some ex-husband Gojo smut except him and the reader are still totally in love with each other >:)

a/n: this has been rattling around in my drafts since like march and I finally got my thoughts gathered enough to write it out lol

Word Count: 4.7k

jjk masterlist

Outside, the sky grows dark, signaling an incoming storm. The weather report called for it yesterday; off and on thunderstorms all night, and well into this afternoon. Not uncommon for this time of year. This morning’s grocery trip was one made with the hope of being back before another downpour started, and from the looks of it, you were successful.

Typically, when you come home, the cat is the first thing to greet you. Today, even after she hears your keys hit the counter, she remains just out of view. You don't mind it so much, even if you do find it odd. It gives you time to put away groceries, and the treats you bought for her without her begging for anything. 

The foul weather makes it as good a day as any to spend inside. Plenty of chores need to be done around your apartment, as work has begun to consume much of your free time. That’s nothing new. Certain times of the year are busier than others at Jujutsu Tech. It certainly doesn't help that two people are out due to injuries, and another is on maternity leave, meaning you’re on call nearly 24/7. 

The cat makes herself known only after she hears a can of food open, chirping as she trots into the kitchen. She stays long enough to finish eating, and get some pets from you, before settling into her spot on the window sill, intently watching leaves being blown around outside. You settle on preparing dinner: thawing meat, and chopping veggies for a soup that’ll take nearly an hour to simmer. 

A noise from the other room draws your attention; in the living room, the TV is on—something you vividly remember shutting off. A drama was playing, but the lead was giving you such bad second-hand embarrassment that you just had to shut it off.

Maybe you really are starting to lose it. 

You’ve seen it happen to others. The stress of the job—this way of life—gets to some. You could chalk it up to forgetting; maybe the cat stepped on the remote, or maybe you really did just forget. Come to think of it, didn't you turn off the lights in the kitchen before leaving too?

The back of your neck prickles with fear. Did someone really break in? You know this isn't a particularly nice part of town, but the chance of that happening is unlikely. Besides, there is no sign of forced entry. It's just a feeling of being watched. Nothing is missing, just some lights are on, and the books on your coffee table have been moved around, as if someone looked through them. Why go through the trouble then?

Nothing in particular tips you off to the presence behind you. It comes suddenly, and without warning. Fight or flight kicks in. With your elbow and wrist parallel to your collarbone, you swing outwards.

Any normal person's elbow would have been shattered by that hit. Satoru blocks it with little effort. He uses the weight of your movement against you, allowing you to fall against him. It doesn't take much time for you to realize what he’s doing, and shove yourself away from him.

“You broke in?” You say, although your voice doesn't carry any surprise. “I gotta admit, Satoru, that's a new low.”

“Technically I didn't,” he says, “I explained to the guy up front that I was your husband and he let me in.”

Internally, you curse your landlord, a sweet old man by the name of Saito. He was one of the few people who would let you move in on such short notice. This was never meant to be a permanent placement, but you suppose you don't have much to complain about here. It's an older building, but maintenance is consistent, and the interior has been completely redone. Your neighbors are quiet, pleasant people, and this is a nice corner of the neighborhood. Not nearly as luxe as your previous home, but not bad either.

As he sits down on the couch, the cat jumps straight into his lap. You know it's not fair to project human emotions onto her. She's just a cat. But you swear you see a smug little look on her face. She chirps, and bumps her head against his hand, purring loud enough it's audible across the room. 

“I think I would have rather dealt with a house robber,” you say.

“I mean, if you're into that kind of thing,” he says, “I can put the mask back on. We'll roleplay…”

“Absolutely not,” you say, snatching the remote for the tv, switching it off, “what do you want?”

Even sitting, he’s nearly eye-level with you. His hand comes up to tug at the silver chain around his neck. You don't know whether to feel angry, or sorry for him. Gojo is almost pathetic enough that you feel bad for him. Almost. 

“What?” He asks, feigning hurt. “I can't drop in to say hello to my lovely wife?”

“Ex-wife,” you say. 

Despite your current irritation with him, the separation was about as amicable as it could be. Although it’s not official in the legal sense yet, the two of you have been living separately for months now. There was no great turning moment in your relationship, just a lifetime of little things that forced a wedge between you two. These things happen. You were young when you married, and so consumed with grief that perhaps there wasn't enough thought put into it. You don't blame yourself for it, or for anything that happened. At the age of eighteen, you had a skewed view of the world. Mistakes were common at that age. That’s just part of growing up. You were young, and every emotion felt so much more potent back then. It felt right at the time. Hell, it was right.

Maybe you still love him. It’s hard to spend so much time with someone—have so many memories with them—and not love them.

“Tsumiki has a game Saturday,” he says, “you coming?”

You're slightly offended at the suggestion you would miss it. She sent you a text about it nearly a week ago. You swore to her you'd make it, even going as far as to make arrangements to leave work early.

“Of course I am.” You say. “I’ll take her—I’m off work early anyway.”

It's better for the kids that you remain an active part in their life. Megumi and Tsumiki have already dealt with so much upheaval in their life. It's cruel enough that one caregiver left them, but two? 

You tell yourself you couldn't do that to them. That alone was enough to get you to stay in your old apartment for a few more months. By then, the kids knew something was up. They're smarter than people give them credit for, and there's only so many excuses you can make for sleeping in separate rooms.

It's been maybe a year since then. Six months since you moved out. You wouldn't call it easy, but you’ve settled into your new routine quite nicely.

“Great,” he says, “why not go together then? I’ll drive. We can get dinner together afterwards.”

Your mouth opens in protest. Although it’s phrased as a question, you know him better than that. Satoru will do everything to weasel his way into this situation. Your barely-pleasant expression sours entirely.

“No, thank you,” you say, gesturing to the door, “now get out of my house.”

“Don't be like that, baby,” he says. His arms stretch out towards you, and you immediately dart out of their path. 

“I hated you calling me that when we were married,” you say, “what makes you think I’ve changed?”

“You haven't.” He says. “That’s why I’m still here.”

Within the air here hangs a rift that time won't heal. This room—this space—is too emotionally charged for you to think straight. Your head spins, clouded with anger and spite.

“Don't tell me you left the kids alone to come bother me?” You say.

Tsumiki is nearly fifteen, and pretty independent, but you don't like leaving the kids alone any longer than you have to.

“Of course not,” he says, almost looking offended, “Tsumiki is off at a sleepover, and I got your mother to watch Megs for the weekend.”

“You what?!” 

A look of shock and betrayal crosses your face. You love your mother dearly, really, but sometimes she can be a bit… much. Early on into your marriage, she was asking when you were going to have children of your own. Being freshly twenty at the time, your answer to her was simple: never. Megumi and Tsumiki were enough. You wanted to be able to devote your time—and attention—to them, not a newborn. 

Satoru catches you in your moment of shock, his arms snaking around your waist. Your hands plant on his wrists to shove them away, yet you stop yourself. 

The sound of your phone ringing in the other room gives you a reason to escape. You free his arms from your waist, heading into the bedroom. You don't hear him get up to follow you, yet you know he does. Sitting on the table beside your bed, still charging, is your phone. It’s Tsumiki. You only glance at your phone long enough to see her name, not what she’s saying. 

The end of the bed dips under his weight as he sits. He tries his best to be covert about it, but you feel his gaze wandering around the room. From the photos on the wall, to the papers on your desk, to the stuffed animals on your bed. Oh, you can hear his snide comments now.

“Those earrings are new,” he says. And you swear you hear a slight tone of disappointment in his voice. “Pretty.”

Goosebumps rise along your arm as he reaches out to feel it, brushing across your shoulder in the process. Crystals, although they may be glass, cut to look like gems, dangling from your ears. They’re blue in color; not a light slate, but a deep cerulean. Subtle enough that they’re rather unnoticeable from a distance.

“Shoko gave them to me,” you say.

She took pity on you once she found out about the divorce. Maybe she felt partially responsible, seeing as she was the one who introduced you two.

Getting sent off to the religious boarding school known as Jujutsu Technical college was a major blow to your teenage social life. At fifteen, all you wanted was to go to a normal high school with your normal friends. Yet you weren't granted such a luxury, and instead were thrown into a world you knew nothing about. You quickly found solace, and a strange kind of companionship in the girl that smoked behind the school: Ieiri Shoko.

If you didn't end up marrying him, you probably would have married her. 

For you, it wasn't love at first sight. You could barely stand him in the beginning. It was a rivalry that slowly turned into friendship, ending in romance, albeit with much prodding from Suguru and Shoko. Teenage love consumed the two of you harshly, and entirely.

It wouldn't be until years later, after the wedding, when you would find out they bet on it.

You don't push him away when he kisses you. Just a peck, nothing more. Like you’re teenagers, exchanging affections in the stairwell between classes. When the higher ups would get upset at you, not him, because he was the strongest and could get away with just about everything.

Of course you still love him. How couldn't you?

You were one of the first to look at him as something other than the strongest. Even after the star plasma vessel, and Toji Zenin. Even after Suguru’s death. Even through your own grief, your presence was constant. To him, the concept of not having you around was strange.

The taste of coffee and lipstick lingers on your lips. Your thumb comes up to wipe away the smudge of red that’s transferred to his lips. And you, so pliable and eager, fall right into his lap.

His lips find your neck, hands wandering from your arms, to your chest, to your waist. He’s savoring your closeness—the scent of your shampoo: coconut. Little do you know, he keeps a bottle of the stuff in his own bathroom. If anyone asks, he claims it’s Tsumiki’s. Only you would know otherwise. She hates the stuff, and has been buying her own since the moment she was able to. Really, he keeps it around because he can't bring himself to throw it away.

“Satoru, we shouldn't do this.” You say. You don't really want him too, it’s only to preserve your pride.

Then why is your body responding so well to him? Your body knows this routine. Maybe the last several months of living alone has sped up the process considerably. Blood rushes where it needs to be, and perhaps most shamefully of all, you’re wet. Although you’re not quite prepared yet, it’s just in the early stages of gathering.

A line of saliva connects his lips and your neck as he pulls away. “If you really wanted me gone, I wouldn't still be here,” he says. 

You tell yourself that, if you really wanted him to stop, then you wouldn't have spent so many nights dreaming of this. You wouldn't reach out to the cold spot on the bed beside you. Your subconscious wouldn't long for him in nearly every way imaginable. 

His hands trace across your waist, coming to take yours. They’re warm, albeit a bit shaky. He’s just itching to undress you—to claim what’s his. It's a sick, possessive side of him that’s only fueled by your recent months apart. He comes to kneel before you like a man bowed in prayer. Satoru sits in worship, but not for the favor of a higher being. You might as well be one to him. Should you wish it, the strongest—wielder of the six eyes—would worship the very ground before you. That devotion would soon become suffocating. It was a bandaid on an already failing relationship.

“Still want me to stop?” He asks, squeezing your hands. Whether that’s on purpose, or an accident, you can't tell. “You say no and I’ll stop here. Just give me the word and we won't ever have to do this again.”

In this moment, your body betrays you: you shake your head. You don't truly want him to go; you know that, he knows that. He wouldn't be poking and prodding at every little unhealed wound if that wasn't the case.

“I need to hear you say it,” he says. That’s when you notice what’s on the chain around his neck: his wedding ring. 

It's like he’s mocking you. Of course he still has it. Of course he saw that yours was still sitting on the bathroom counter. 

Satoru has always been like this. He pokes and prods, finding out where you’re weak. What cracks or wounds he can press his fingers into. Pushing boundaries comes natural to him. 

Maybe you’ve changed. Maybe he hasn't changed at all.

“I just want to get off,” you say. 

“Poor baby,” he coos, “you haven't gotten off at all while I was gone, have you? You should have called me. I would have taken care of you.”

“I think I'd rather call Nanami for that.” You say.

The chuckle he lets out sounds nervous. “I know you're joking,” he says, “but judging by the way he looks at you? I think he'd take you up on the offer.”

You believe it. It was a thinly veiled secret that Nanami harbored a little crush for you. The man would never go as far as to pursue his coworker, let alone his coworker's ex wife. This entire time, he’s kept a respectful distance, only speaking about your marriage if you expressed a want to do so. You’ve considered it. Hell, you’ve given it a lot of thought. You think maybe… just maybe, if the two of you were drunk or desperate enough, something could happen. But fraternizing with coworkers in such a way is ill-advised. 

Satoru is going to give him hell tomorrow when he sees him at work. Nanami will be none the wiser, assuming Satoru is up to his usual antics.

“One last chance to back out of this,” he says, “if you don't want to do this…”

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You ask.

His fingers trace down the curve of your spine, before coming to the hem of your sweater, pulling it up—and over—your head. From him comes an audible little gasp once he realizes you have no bra on underneath. That part wasn't intentional; you need to do laundry, and your shirt was baggy enough that a bra wasn't necessary. Your nipples stiffen once exposed to the open air. Although you know how this looks, it sends a pang of self-consciousness through you, causing you to cross your arms in front of your chest. It’s not like he hasn't seen this before. Maybe it's a last ditch attempt to preserve your pride. And he’s nearly tripping over himself to undress, pulling off his coat, then button-up, then trousers. Off comes your skirt, the silky fabric pooling around your feet. 

If you could stop for a moment and think, it would be endearing: the desperation that falls over you two like teenagers. He can hardly keep his hands off you, while you don't quite know what to do with yours. Eventually, you settle on wrapping your arms around his neck. 

You sit on the edge of the bed before him, still in your panties. Plain black. Nothing fancy, but cute. Maybe if you knew…

You almost scold yourself for thinking such things. It’s not like you had any way of knowing this would happen. You know part of it was to preserve your pride. Being able to move on without seeming like you needed him. He’s not your husband anymore; why go through the effort of getting dressed up?

Beside you, on the bed, he finds a spot to sit. He’s half hard already. His hands ghost up the outsides of your arms, before coming to cup your face. They soon fall to your waist as you move to straddle his lap.

Satoru leans in to kiss you, and it’s… uncharacteristically sweet. That almost makes things worse. If this were something over and done with quickly, that would be tolerable. You could chalk it up to raw emotions or hormones or something other than the fact you still have feelings for him and haven't come to terms with that.

Sex for the sake of mindless pleasure is one thing. It’s tolerable. You can explain it away easily. But the way he handles you—like you’re going to break—sends a pang of pain through your chest. It's too much. Should he act selfishly, that would be far more bearable than this. 

You almost want him to. It would be so much easier if he just took what he wanted, and left.

“Lay back,” he says, “like that. Good girl.”

You scoot back on the bed just far enough to fall against the pillows. Your thighs part just enough to accompany him. The body above yours is warm. His lips find yours, then your neck, then one of your stiffened nipples, softly biting down on it. That draws a sharp gasp from you, although the shock it sends down your spine is rather pleasurable. 

His fingers hook under the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs slowly. Achingly slowly. Shamelessly, his eyes linger on the way they stick to your already slick cunt. This moment is only dragging out because he wants it to. They’re tossed away alongside the rest of your clothes. Long, deft fingers come to trace along your slit; teasing motions done by a man who can barely contain himself. The patience of Satoru Gojo has limits, and you’re testing them.

He palms himself through his boxers. He's completely hard now. That doesn't stop him from trailing long, sloppy kisses down your stomach, and up your thigh. His thumb traces across the bundle of nerves. Slow and steady. Just enough to get you aching for him, but not enough to get you anywhere. You try to angle your hips towards him—to grind against him—but Satoru cruelty pulls his hand away. 

“Just… let me have my moment,” he says, chest heaving as he breathes in. 

So he admits it…

His thumb is soon replaced with his mouth, greedily licking and sucking at the bundle of nerves that is your clit. There's little rhyme or reason but it's just messy enough that it'll get you off. First, his index finger pushes into you, then another. Satoru must be moaning nearly as loud as you. The hand that isn't fucking out is wrapped around his cock, and he's bucking into it like it's a warm body. Judging by the noises he's making, he's going to cum, so he stops himself before he does so. You don't. Satoru guides you through your own orgasm, his mouth leaving your clit only after you've stopped trembling. It felt rushed. You're not quite satisfied.

Satoru makes a show of licking his fingers. When he kisses you, this taste only grows more prominent. He's making you taste yourself and you're not quite sure how to feel about it. It's not unpleasant, akin to unripe persimmons in taste.

“Is it how you remember?" You ask, a coy expression spreading across your face.

“Different,” he says, “better.”

There’s no time to grab a condom. Not that you have any in here anyway. Whatever consequences that result from this will be dealt with in the morning.

A small groan leaves him as he bottoms out. It's obvious that he tries to stifle it, and fails, resulting in a noise that certainly has your neighbors questioning things. You'll avoid their gazes in the hall tomorrow morning. This won't become a regular thing, you tell yourself. 

Hardly a few thrusts in and he knows he is going to cum too soon. You can see it all over his face. Pleasure turns to concentration, then thinly veiled stress. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. Some small, sick little part of you is grateful for your thin walls.

You hate him. You still love him. You wish he would walk out of your apartment right now. But part of you can't bear to sleep another night alone.

“You don't know how much I've been thinking about this,” he says, making a noise between a grunt and a huff, “about the way you feel. Taste. I couldn't get it out of my head.”

His mouth finds yours again and the kiss he exchanges with you is dripping with desperation. Something small, and quiet leaves his lips once they part with yours. You soon recognize it as an “I love you.”

He cums sooner than either of you expected, and from him, your name spills past his lips like a prayer. Though, you suppose that this is the closest he'll ever get to praying.

Your own release is still just out of reach. It doesn't take much effort to get him on his back, and you on top, riding him. He’s still hard, despite having just cum inside you. The fruits of his effort can be seen streaming down your thighs. Your movements grow sloppier as you grow nearer to your release, grinding down against him and his softening cock. Within your stomach, it’s as if an invisible band is tightening. Your own orgasm comes out in the form of a noise that sounds like both a moan and a sob. It's anger and pain mixing with pleasure. Tears of frustration are brimming along your lower lash line. You hate him. You love him. You wish he would leave but you don't want to sleep alone. A rift exists between the two of you that time will not heal.

Instead, you lay beside him on the bed. From beside you, he grabs a blanket for you to cover yourself with. As much as he missed the sight of your naked body, he knows this room is cold, and you’ll be getting up to get dressed anyway. 

To him, there’s not a more beautiful sight: you, laying on the bed beside him, leaking of his cum. It would be better if it were his own bed, he thinks, but this'll do. 

“I take it we’re on speaking terms again?” He asks.

“I don't know yet,” you say, “depends on how this conversation goes.”

From beside you on the nightstand, you retrieve your glasses, putting them back on. Outside, the sky still appears dark, only lit up momentarily by a bolt of lightning. The rain has slowed to a drizzle, running down your window in streams.

“Seems like great weather to stay in bed,” he comments. 

An arm snakes around your waist. You debate with yourself on whether or not to shove it off.

“I think some time apart will do us good.” You say, and the arm around your waist stiffens. He seems to be deciding whether to pull away or not.

“And what? Couples therapy too?” His tone suggests he's making a joke, but not one in bad faith.

“Just in general, you need therapy,” you’re only half joking when you say it, despite it applying to you too, “but I don't think there's one that specializes in whatever you have going on.”

“Funny.” He says flatly.

He lays on his back on the bed, and you lay on your side, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

“I don't know what I want.” You say, finally. “I guess I could use something to eat.”

You had plans to make a nice, elaborate dinner tonight, although you’re no longer feeling like it. You went through the effort of buying the ingredients, and cleaning the kitchen, so you might as well. 

Satoru follows you as you make your way to the kitchen, stopping once to pull on a shirt. It used to be one of his, he notes. Maybe enough time has passed that you don't remember. Maybe you do. It’s just long enough to fall towards the middle of your thighs—you won't be giving the neighbors a show. He stops long enough to pull his boxers back on, leaving the rest of his clothes discarded on your bedroom floor.

From a cabinet, you retrieve two mugs. On goes the kettle to boil. He watches as you fill the french press with one… two… three scoops of coffee grounds. Just enough boiling water goes in to wet the grounds—they have to sit for a few minutes before the rest is poured in. 

Your taste in coffee hasn't changed much over the years. You still take it with cream and sugar. Satoru—when he does drink coffee—takes it with enough sugar to make your teeth hurt. 

“We must be on speaking terms,” he says, “otherwise I'd have been kicked out by now.”

“If I was going to kick you out, I would have done it before we had sex. Not after.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Something about the casualness of this moment makes your chest ache; like the last year hasn't happened, and the two of you are just sharing a moment over coffee. 

Neither of you notice the front door opening, nor the jingle of keys being inserted into the lock. Tsumiki, standing in the doorway, nearly drops what she’s holding: a book. Her eyes are wide with a mix of shock, before narrowing into anger. 

“‘Miki!” You say, almost as shocked as her, if not moreso. “What are you doing here?”

“Returning this,” she says, holding up the book in her hand, “I sent you a text about it like an hour ago. What are you doing?!”

Truly, you don't have anything to say for yourself. Your mouth opens, and a few, broken fragments of an excuse come out. Satoru, looking nearly as surprised as you, simply waves to her, before disappearing into another room. That won't help your case at all. 

“Having coffee,” you say, “we were just talking about your game on Saturday.”

She seems unconvinced. Tsumiki, like most teenagers, is a lot smarter than people give her credit for. Silently, she sets the book on the counter, before turning back towards the door.

“I’ll see you at dinner," she says, leaving.

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Oral sex. Fingering. Use of aphrodisiacs. Divider by @benkeibear!

Toji looks down at the doll sitting on her knees between his parted thighs, running her wet tongue along the underside of his cock, from his balls to his tip. She takes as much of him into her mouth as possible, but he’s just too big. Any more than halfway and she’s choking. Doesn’t stop her from trying though, bless her cock hungry little heart. 

It’s been nearly two weeks since he began training her, and she’s gotten extremely good at giving head. She pays close attention to what Toji likes, what little movements or techniques make him grunt or twitch. Usually the dolls he trains are so focused on their own pleasure, on satisfying their own hunger for dick, that they don’t put much effort into pleasing him. 

There are several ways this doll is different. Like usual, he fucks every hole she has every single day, normally multiple times. And like any other doll she begs for it, constantly wanting to be stuffed full of him. She can take all of him now, though she’s still so tight it feels like his dick is in a vice grip when it’s buried in that tiny pussy of hers. 

But unlike any other doll, she wants more from him. She asks him questions about himself all the time. What’s his favorite color? His favorite food? What types of music does he like? Where did he grow up? What’s his family like?

He’s answered some of these, and she was surprised when he told her he has a son. But then she smiled and said, “I hope I can meet him someday.”

“You might get to,” he’d told her. “Whenever I can’t find someone to watch him, I have to bring him to work with me.”

She’d gaped at him with a horrified expression. “You bring your son here?!”

He’d laughed then. “Don’t look at me that way! It’s not like I bring him into the room to watch! I hooked a PlayStation up in one of the empty rooms. I leave him in there with some snacks and he’s fine. I tell the other trainers so they can make sure their dolls are dressed in the dining hall.”

“Oh. That doesn’t sound as terrible as I thought,” she said. “It’s still not good though. I mean he knows what goes on here, right? Or at least has a vague idea.”

Toji had shrugged. “I don’t know what that kid is aware of. He hardly speaks to me. But he gets along with the others. It’s like he has four cool uncles.”

“Don’t you mean five?”

Toji grimaced. “Sukuna isn’t allowed to speak to him anymore. One day my kid asked him why there was always screaming coming from his room. He could have made up anything. But he looks my nine year old right in the face and says, ‘Because I’m torturing a woman in there.’  After that, Sukuna’s cool uncle privileges were revoked.”

She had laughed, despite being mildly disturbed. He’d laughed too, and it struck him then: he’d never had a conversation like this with a doll he was training. It was all sex all the time. They didn’t care about his personal life and he didn’t care about theirs. They had nothing to talk about besides what was for dinner or where he wanted them to bend over next. 

He was reminded of the times he’d chatted with her in the convenience store. She’d always been so easy to talk to, so friendly and cheerful. He tries not to remember that. He’s always made a conscious effort to not view his dolls as people with lives outside this house. Because that makes it easier to fuck them over and over again and then turn them over to the next guy who will do the same. All the dolls accepted to the Doll House willingly sign their contracts. The owner doesn’t take women who are clearly being sold off against their will, but most of them sign because they’re desperate in some way. Toji prefers not to think about that. 

But this new doll actually wants to get to know him. He knows he shouldn’t encourage that behavior, but she was already in love with him before the training started. Is there any point in trying to keep her from getting too attached?

Even the way she sucks his cock is different. She absolutely devours it, taking it so far down her throat that it feels like she’s trying to swallow it, but the way she looks at it, and him in general, is different. She doesn’t just look at him with lust in her eyes. There’s a genuine affection he hasn’t seen since… Well, he hasn’t seen it in a long time. 

And when he cums in her mouth, completely coating her throat, tongue, lips, she looks up at his face and smiles so sweetly. Like he just did her a favor. 

A shame she won’t be reserving that look for him much longer. 

********************

You get to your feet as you lick your lips, making sure to swallow every last drop of Toji’s beloved cum. You’re not satisfied. Not in the least. It’s late in the evening and he’s only fucked your pussy once today. So you go over to the dresser and bend over onto it, looking behind you and wiggling your bare ass. 

“Toji… fill me up, please?”

He gets up from the chair he’d been sitting in and saunters over to you, his slow pace driving you mad. He’s still dressed, but his pants are unzipped and his still hard cock is hanging out. The “aphrodisiacs” you both take every day have some strange side effects. One of them being Toji’s ability to stay hard even after cumming multiple times. 

Lately he’s been increasing the dose he gives you. You’re not sure why. You don’t think you even need it to begin with. You spent countless nights touching yourself while imagining being fucked by him, way before he ever gave you the first dose. But he’s the trainer, and you agreed to do as he said. 

He doesn’t really have any rules aside from insisting you take the aphrodisiacs. You can go anywhere in the house aside from the other trainers’ personal rooms and can even leave the house if you want, so long as you return by nightfall. You’ve never left since you got here though. You don’t want to waste a single moment that you could be spending with Toji. 

One of the biggest perks of being his doll is that you’ve been given a front row seat to his life. You get to see exactly how he spends his time, what his routines are. 

Every morning he takes a shower, grabs breakfast in the dining hall (sometimes you go with him and the two of you eat there together but most often he simply brings two plates back to his room), and then the two of you spend a few hours doing various things. Mostly fucking, though sometimes things get a little adventurous and you play strip poker together or even watch each other masturbate at the same time. Toji doesn’t seem picky about the activity. As long as it results in him cumming multiple times in a row, he’s up for anything. 

Lunch is always snacks or microwaved meals from the convenience store. He doesn’t seem to like what’s usually on the lunch menu in the dining hall. You sometimes get lunch there by yourself. 

In the afternoons, Toji often works out. There’s an exercise room at the house with some pretty impressive equipment. You suppose that explains how all the trainers have such perfect physiques. You love watching Toji lift weights or even run on the treadmill, your eyes glued to his sculpted form as his muscles move beneath his clothes. By the time he’s finished, you’re absolutely drenched and practically dragging him back to his room. Once you were so horny you locked the door to the exercise room and hiked your skirt up while he was doing pull ups. You ended up hanging from the bar by your trembling hands while he fucked you mercilessly from below. 

On some evenings, Toji goes to check on his son Megumi. You hate being without him for a couple of hours, but you understand that it’s important for him to go. You’re dying to ask about Megumi’s mother. You know she’s no longer in the picture, as Megumi is staying with other relatives, but you don’t know if she died or just ran off and abandoned the family. You’ve danced around the edges of the topic, but never directly addressed it. 

There’s a sorrow buried deep in Toji’s eyes whenever you get close to mentioning her, when you ask other, related questions hoping to get more information. “Why is Megumi staying with relatives?” “Does he look more like you?” “What did you do before you became a trainer?” All were asked in the hopes that he would talk about her, but he very pointedly never mentioned her. So you’ve stopped asking those sorts of questions. Obviously, thinking about her hurts him, and you love him enough to want to avoid that. 

Now, as Toji grips your waist with his large, strong hands and rams his enormous cock into your eager pussy, you lose track of your thoughts. The only thing on your mind is the feeling of his powerful thrusts, the rhythm he builds, his skin against yours. 

You’re bent over the dresser, the few items he has there scattered across the floor now. You can see him in the mirror behind you, can see his handsome face, slightly flushed from the exertion of absolutely pounding you. He sees your reflection watching him and grins at you, the charming scar on his mouth stretching slightly. As if to give you a treat, he pulls his shirt over his head, allowing you to get a good look at his muscular body. 

After a moment, you glance at your own face in the mirror, and hardly recognize it. Your hair is a mess, your face red, your mouth hanging slightly open, a sheen on your lips from Toji’s cum, and your eyes… They look different somehow, like tinted glass. Is this what they call a “blissed out” face? 

“Harder,” you mutter between moans. 

“What was that?” Toji asks. 

“Harder! Please!” you cry, suddenly feeling like it’s not enough unless he’s all the way in you womb. Is this because of the aphrodisiacs? You’re so needy today. 

He leans over onto you, his chest against your back, and whispers, “Sure you can handle that?”

You meet his gaze in the mirror. “I can handle anything if it’s from you.”

“If you say so,” he says, then suddenly straightens up and lifts you into the air, holding you in front of him by your hips. You’re folded in half in midair, your arms and legs dangling above the floor. You look in the mirror and watch him relentlessly drill into your limp body, with you hanging in front of him like a literal rag doll. 

“Ahhh… Toji! S-so deep…” you cry out, your body jerking in time with his thrusts. 

*****************

The doll feels light as a feather in Toji’s grasp as he holds her body in front of him, fucking her so hard she has tears in her eyes. But she wants this, evidenced by the look of sheer joy on her face, the pretty lilting moans floating up from her lips. 

There’s something lurid about how small and helpless she looks in the mirror, as he literally uses her body like a living fleshlight, when combined with her obvious arousal. The “aphrodisiacs”, as he calls them, are working. She’s becoming more and more obsessed with having his cock inside her, with being fucked as hard as possible. This is the key to his training: making the dolls want to be fucked all the time. Making them hungry for it. 

Dolls trained by Toji are in high demand among straight male buyers. After all, who among them doesn’t want a beautiful woman who constantly begs for their dick? The other trainers cater to more specialized tastes, but Toji covers a wider clientele. 

Getting his dolls hooked on his dick isn’t that hard. Toji is aware that he’s attractive. He may not be “pretty” like Gojo or Geto, but he’s got the sort of body that almost everyone who likes men finds irresistible. And he’s very good at what he does. He knows exactly how to hit every sweet spot, how to make women cum repeatedly on his cock. 

No, the challenge is in getting his dolls hooked on cock in general, so that their addiction to him will easily transfer to their owners. The Doll House is a classy establishment. They’re picky about their buyers. So while they may not all be handsome, at the very least, none of them are disgusting. Personal hygiene, dressing well, and having a background free of violence are all very important. 

But this doll claims to be in love with Toji, says she’s had feelings for him for two years. Getting her to transfer those feelings will definitely be a tough job. But Toji can do it. His training is thorough. Looking at her glazed eyes in the mirror, he can see that she’s losing herself to the pleasure. 

He rams into her, hitting a spot that makes her scream, and then she’s cumming, twitching in his grip. Her pussy is already ridiculously tight, but when she climaxes she clamps down on him, squeezing him until he fills her completely with his cum. 

She’s still quivering as he pulls her off his cock and flips her around, now holding her in his arms bridal style. She curls against his chest, her face nearly hidden. “I love you, Toji.”

He carries her to the bed and covers her up, then steps out of the room. He hears voices from the dining hall, so he follows them to find Gojo and Nanami sitting at one of the tables, talking. It’s way past dinner time, so it’s no surprise that the room is empty aside from them. There’s a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of Nanami and in front of Gojo, some sort of ice cream-cookie-brownie monstrosity that makes Toji’s teeth hurt just to look at. 

Toji walks over to the table but doesn’t sit down. He looks at Gojo and says, “You’re between dolls right now, right?”

Gojo grins as he shoves a spoonful of dessert into his mouth. “Yeah. My little puppy princess left yesterday. Why?” But before Toji can answer, Gojo says, “Oh right! It’s about that time, huh?”

Toji nods. “So can you come around this time tomorrow night?”

Gojo gives him a thumbs up while he chews, then replies after swallowing. “I’ll be there!”

Nanami looks at both of them with disapproval, but doesn’t say anything, instead taking a drink of his coffee. He’s between dolls as well, but Toji knows better than to ask for his help. 

Part of Toji’s training is getting his dolls to want cock even if it’s not his. And so, after a couple of weeks, he gets his fellow trainers to help out by fucking the doll he’s training. Nanami refused the first time Toji asked, and made it clear he would never change his mind. The others will usually do it if they’re not currently training a doll. Sukuna will regardless of whether or not he has a doll at the time, but Toji prefers not to ask him. The man is a bit unsettling even to the other trainers. 

Gojo is Toji’s first pick. The man can drive women wild with a glance, and Toji’s dolls are always excited about the chance to fuck him. 

After confirming the plans with Gojo, Toji returns to his room and sits down on the bed next to his sleeping doll. She’s smiling in her sleep, probably dreaming of being fucked real good. He brushes the hair from her face with one hand, wondering, far from the first time, what she could possibly love about him.

“Poor thing,” he says quietly. “You’re gonna lose this bet.”

*********************

The next morning, after breakfast, Toji gives you the slightly increased dose of aphrodisiacs. Within minutes you feel the familiar heat spreading through your body, the building urge to tear your clothes off and fling yourself into Toji’s arms. 

As your mind races through different ideas for sexy shenanigans you can get into today, Toji sits down in one of the two chairs in his room and says, “I think I’m coming down with something.” For emphasis, he coughs lightly. 

You look up at him in alarm. “Oh no, are you feeling sick? What’s bothering you?”

He rubs his neck. “My throat’s a little sore. I’ll be fine in a day or two. I never stay sick long. But I better not exert myself today.”

You nod, understanding what he means. No wild fucking today. You wish he’d told you this before giving you the aphrodisiac, but what’s done is done. You walk over to him. “I can just suck you off today. That would be okay, right?”

He stops you before you can drop to your knees. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t wanna get my heart beating fast.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t think of that. Well can I do anything to make you feel better? A back rub? Or if they’ll let me use the kitchen I can make you some soup or…”

He holds a hand up to stop you. “No, you don’t need to do anything. Thanks anyway. I’m just gonna get some rest.”

You watch as he climbs into bed. You resist the urge to tuck him in. Acting like a wife might overstep a boundary for him. But now you’re left standing here, incredibly horny. With no other options available, you go to the bathroom to masturbate. It feels hollow and unsatisfying without Toji there to make it interesting, but it does ease a bit of the ache. 

The rest of the day is spent watching tv on low volume so as not to disturb Toji’s rest, with frequent trips to the bathroom to relieve the pressure of your arousal. Once you even sit on the floor beside Toji’s bed and pleasure yourself to the sounds of his breathing. Have you always been this desperate? 

At dinner, you go to the dining hall and fetch plates for the both you and Toji. You try to find foods that would make Toji feel better while also keeping his tastes in mind. When you wake him up, he eats the dinner you brought without complaint, and seems to be feeling better. Maybe he’s not getting sick after all? Maybe he’s just tired. 

After he’s finished eating, he looks at the clock, then stands up and walks to the mini fridge. “Time for your evening dose,” he says. 

You look at him in confusion. “Oh, I thought I wouldn’t be taking it tonight. With you feeling bad and all.”

He brings the bottle over and hands it to you. “You can’t just stop. Part of the training is getting your body used to this.”

You hold the cold bottle in your hands. “But today was really hard on me. I wanted you so bad but I couldn’t touch you. I don’t know if I can handle more of that.”

He grins at you. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight. Drink up.”

“Oh, are you feeling better now?” you ask, opening the lid and downing the liquid. 

“Not really,” Toji says, “but I’ve made arrangements to make sure you’re satisfied.”

What does that mean? Did he get some toys to use while he’s sick? That’s not exactly satisfying but you suppose if Toji is the one using them on you, they could be fun. 

Almost immediately, you feel it. The aphrodisiacs have never hit you this fast before, or this hard. You’re suddenly feverish, your face flushing red, your skin feeling prickly. There’s a growing dampness between your legs, and you drop into the nearby chair, your arms wrapped around yourself, your thighs pressed tightly together. 

“Toji… I think something’s wrong.”

He looks at you calmly. “What do you mean?” he asks, though you get the impression he knows exactly what you mean. 

“I’m feeling it too much. It’s… too strong,” you mutter, your body beginning to tremble. You stand up and cross the room to him. “Please fuck me! I can’t wait any longer! You can use your fingers or… or anything!”

In your hysteria, you shove one hand under your skirt, rubbing yourself through your panties. 

“You’ll be fine. I’m sick so I can’t take care of you myself, but I’m not gonna leave you hanging,” Toji says, ushering you over to the bed and sitting you down on it. 

Your mind can barely register what he’s saying. “Please, Toji! It’s like I’m on fire! Please make it stop! I need your cock inside me! I need-“

There’s a knock at Toji’s door. It’s such a rare occurrence that it distracts you from your madness. Toji goes to open it, and you watch, partly in a daze, as Gojo walks in. You’ve met him many times in the dining hall. He always seems friendly, and you remember thinking, the first time you saw him, that he’s a very beautiful man. He doesn’t compare to Toji, of course, but there’s an otherworldly quality to his features that’s quite striking. 

Toji throws a casual arm around the other trainer. “Gojo here is gonna look after you tonight in my place.”

Gojo smiles at you, his blue eyes shining. “I’ll take real good care of you,” he says, walking towards you. “You might even like me better than Toji.”

Huh? What’s going on? Your mind is fuzzy. You look to Toji, and he gives you an approving nod. Gojo gently pushes you onto your back on the bed, then climbs on top of you. All your hazy mind can think is, “Wow, those eyes!” Is this beautiful person really going to fuck you? Toji said it’s okay. Hell, it was his idea! So it must be fine, right? 

Your body is aching to be touched, to be fucked. And there’s a gorgeous man on top of you, squeezing your breasts through your shirt, kissing your neck. Ahhh, it feels so good! Your eyes slide closed as Gojo pushes your shirt up. 

********************

Toji watches Gojo kiss and grope at his doll, in his bed. He’s seen this sight many times before. If not Gojo, it was one of the other trainers. And in all Toji’s years working here, he’s never once been bothered by it. After all, these women didn’t belong to him. He felt no jealousy, no possessiveness. 

So why does he feel so irritated now, watching Gojo grind his still clothed body against this doll as he slowly pulls her clothes off, leaving her in nothing but panties. Gojo’s tongue on her nipple, Gojo’s fingers stroking her pussy through the fabric, the sharp little moans she’s making…. All of it irritates Toji. He’s almost definitely won the bet now, but he doesn’t feel like he’s won anything. In fact, he feels like he just lost something. 

He looks away, turning his back to the scene. But just a moment later, he hears her voice.

“Wait.”

Toji turns back to look at the bed, where the doll has her hands on Gojo’s chest, pushing him back. 

Gojo has stopped touching her and looks down. “Something wrong?”

She glances at Toji and then back to Gojo. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this with you. I appreciate you offering to help me out, but the only person I want is Toji.”

Gojo gives her a sultry look that would make most women buckle. “Are you sure?”

She nods, her face still flushed, her eyes still glazed. “I’m sure.”

Gojo gets up from the bed and heads for the door. He opens it, then turns back with a smile and says, “See you guys tomorrow!” 

Then he’s gone, and Toji is left alone in the room with his very cute, very horny, mostly naked doll. She’s still lying in his bed, breathing hard, staring at him. “I only want you,” she says. “I’ll wait for you. I can endure this until you feel better.”

Suddenly he wants to fuck her more than he ever has before. No doll he’s trained had turned down sex with Gojo before, especially not when they were pumped full of his special “aphrodisiacs” and he’d deprived them of sex all day. 

Maybe Gojo just isn’t her type? It sure didn’t seem that way when Gojo was on top of her. And with his training, she should want sex with anyone. 

He walks over to the bed, his legs carrying him there as if they have a mind of their own. His cock certainly does. It’s been achingly hard all day, even when he was pretending to be asleep. Hearing her quiet moans coming from the bathroom, and even from a few feet away from him, knowing what she was doing and what she wanted from him… it was agony. 

Before he even thinks his actions through, he’s got one hand on her panties, ripping them off with one yank. She gives a little cry of surprise, but her face lights up with joy as she opens her legs to him.  Her pussy is glistening with arousal, waiting for him. 

He doesn’t waste any time. He ignores her questions about how he’s feeling. Right now, he just needs to be completely buried inside her. So he climbs onto the bed while pulling his cock out of his pants, lifts one of her legs into the air while rolling her onto her side, and plunges into her. 

As he rails her there on the bed, he can’t help thinking about the fact that it was almost Gojo doing this. Almost Gojo getting to sheath himself in this sweet, warm, wet little pussy. A pussy meant for Toji. 

From this angle, he can see her face, turned sideways on the pillow. It looks like she’s crying, but it must be tears of happiness, because she’s on the edge of cumming already. 

“Toji… Toji… Toji!”

Hearing her gasp out his name as her pussy desperately clenches his cock does something to him. And before long he’s shooting his load into her body, then watching it ooze out after separating from her. He’s still hard, and she’s still not satisfied. So he rolls her over to start again. 

He’ll have to try something else later. Maybe a different trainer or stronger “aphrodisiacs”. But for right now, in this moment, he only wants to fuck her until she can no longer move. 

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl

[leossmoonn]

five nights with mike | mike schmdit

summary - a romance develops between you and mike at freddy’s

warnings / includes - reader is fem. established feelings. natural time skips. very loosely follows the plot of the movie but i didn’t want to watch it again for this lol. eventual smut in p2 - piv, fingering, brief handjob

part two is linked at the bottom!

————

this part isn’t 18+ but second is. they can be read as seperate parts kind of, but i did put effort into both so if you’re 18+ do what you will with that info

“you’re early,” you say as you walk into the office. mike is watching the cameras while eating a granola bar. “yeah, abby went to bed early and i had nothing better to do,” he says.

“yeah, i feel you. cornelius went to bed early, too.”

mike turns to you, raising a brow. “cornelius is a cat. he sleeps whenever he wants and doesn’t need you to tuck him in.”

you grin and shrug, “sometimes he does. he’s very fussy if he doesn’t get warm milk and a little playtime before bed.”

“i think you spoil that cat too much,” mike states. “he’s my baby. i need to spoil him,” you insist.

mike’s lips upturn and he looks back at the cameras. you sit down next to him, your eyes flickering from the cameras to him. even with his eye bags more purple and deep than the other night, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. his facial hair is darker, like he’s been growing it out more. his jawline is sharp and you’ve found yourself staring at it the more you two work together. his hair is messy as if he just got out of bed before getting here. his lips are slightly parted as he watches the cameras. you can’t help but wonder how they would feel on your skin.

mike sees you staring at him in his peripheral. he wishes he could control the way he blushes. he hopes you don’t notice with the blue light on the screen covering his face. he knows you’ll stop eventually, but he doesn’t mind. he doesn’t get much attention anywhere else in his life. he just hopes you stop so then he can admire you in a not-so-nonchalant manner.

you two have worked together before you got the job at freddy’s. it was a while back, before mike’s security job at the mall. you two got along, but you didn’t really become friends until you realized you were going to be staying up all night with each other babysitting creepy fur suits.

“do you want to sleep first tonight?” you offer. you know how tired mike always is. he barely sleeps, but when he does, you know it’s not good.

“i think i’ll stay up,” mike says, wanting to spend as much time with you conscious. “oh, really? did you have a good nap during the day?” you inquire.

“no,” he chuckles. “i still have the same shitty sleep pattern, but i know how creepy this place can feel, so i figured i’d keep you company while you’re awake. and if you fall asleep, then that’s fine. i’ll be up.”

his concern for you makes you embarrassingly sick with joy.

“i can take care of myself. it’s not like those things will come alive,” you snort.

mike chuckles and nods. “i hope not.” “well, we’ll just see how the night goes. we can let each other know if we feel tired and go from there,” you say.

“sure,” he says. he watches as you pull out a book from your purse. he turns his head slowly towards your direction so he can get a better look at you. even with little sleep, you look beautiful. he knows you don’t sleep much, either. you have a day job as well, leaving a five hour gap for you to recharge. he doesn’t know how you do it, but he find it admirable.

even to this job, you wear day clothes. little does he know, you do it to impress him. it’s not like you go all out. you pick clothes that are comfortable enough to fall asleep in, but make you look like you put some effort in. mike has a feeling you do it for some external reason, and he’s hoping it’s him. ever since he knew he was going to work with you, he’s started to shower right before he comes here. he brings food for you two to share in case you both get hungry. he saves most of it for you since he knows you barely have time to eat at home.

“is that a new one?” he asks. “hmm?” you look up, seeing his eyes flicker from your face to the book. “oh, yeah,” you nod. “it’s a new dystopian novel.”

“ah, i see. that’s cool. what’s the series called?”

“ “the hunger games”.”

“oh, yeah, i’ve heard of that. i used to like those types of novels: dystopian and fantasy.”

“have you ever read “harry potter”?”

“i read the first four. i’ve watched all the movies, though. they’re coming out with the last one soon, i think.”

“ah, right. which did you think were better?”

“the books, definitely.”

“ah, a man of culture,” you tease. he shrugs with a small smile. “my mom really liked reading, so she got me into it. i haven’t read for a while, though. books are so expensive.”

“they are,” you agree. “i can lend you some. i have a whole collection. although half of them are more young adult, but they’re still good. my real adult book collection is growing, though.”

“you don’t have to,” he says. “i wouldn’t mind,” you shrug.

“that’d be nice,” he nods. “great. i’ll text you some books i have when i go home,” you say, looking back down at your book. you can’t focus though with thoughts of texting mike later. it was just about books, but talking to him outside of work made you giddy.

the rest of the night went pretty smoothly. you did end up falling asleep after eating some snacks mike brought. mike let you take the desk chair that was cushioned and you laid your head on the desk, wrapped up in his jacket that he also let you borrow. when you got home and stripped to take a shower, you realized how much you and your clothes smelled like him. you almost didn’t want to wash your clothes, but you knew you would see him again soon.

the next night, mike surprises you by bringing abby.

“she just didn’t want to stay at the house,” mike sighs. “it’s alright. it’s good to have some extra company,” you say.

you’ve never officially met abby. you’ve seen her at the mall you and mike worked at. mike and you worked at the food court at that time before he left to work security. he would bring her sometimes to play in the children’s area on the weekends that was right in front of the restaurant you worked at. she always would wave to you and mike sometimes, but you never got a chance to introduce yourself until now.

it seems like abby remembers you from the mall. she acts like she’s met you before, immediately pulling you into one conversation after another. it’s cute.

“this fort is so cool,” you say. “i know, right? mike says it’s stupid, but he’s just jealous cause he sucks at making forts,” abby grins.

mike rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance. you stifle a laugh as you witness their sibling dynamic.

“maybe one of these nights we can build a fort,” you suggest. mike shakes his head. “no thanks.”

“aw, come in! it might be fun. it would give us something to do,” you grin.

mike can’t resist your smile. it literally brightens up the room and he finds it hard not to smile with you. he tries to downplay his feelings and sighs, looking down at his shoes to try and hide his expression.

“we’ll see.”

“i can teach you guys how to build a fort,” abby says. “that would be awesome!” you exclaim.

abby ends up inviting you into her fort to color. mike tries to join to get closer to you, but abby denies him entry.

“only cool people get to be in here.”

“seriously? i’m cool,” mike says. you and abby glance at each other, coy smiles on both of your faces. “you’re not cool enough,” you state.

his eyes wide as he looks at you. “if i knew abby would make you have a vendetta against me, i wouldn’t have brought her.”

“i’m sure she would’ve found a not like you,” abby states.

he plays the butt-hurt role, but honestly, he loves seeing you and abby interact. you’re the closest thing abby has ever had to a friend. the fact that you welcomed her with open arms makes him unexplainably happy. although he likes to complain about taking care of his sister, he would be lying if he said she wasn’t his whole world. he’s never trusted her with anybody else except for the babysitter, which is kind of has to, but he knows that if there was anybody he would trust with abby, it would be you without a doubt.

eventually, abby falls and asleep and it’s just you and mike. you both are sitting side-by-side on the floor, propped up against a cabinet. before abby dozed off, she decided to be kind and let mike hang out in the fort. you both remind each other to keep an eye on the cameras, but you both start to feel sleepy.

“i hate this job,” you yawn. your whole being is tired. you’ve never had a night job before, especially with having a day job. it’s starting to catch up with you.

“it’s not so bad,” mike says, looking at you. you give him a lazy smile, not being able to keep your eyes closed. you’re too tired to notice you’ve started to lean on mike. your head rests on his chest, your arms curled up, trying to reserve some heat. mike’s body tenses as he looks down at you. you look so peaceful. your body rises slowly as you fall asleep. your lips are slightly parted. you snuggle into him, your fingers fisting his shirt. his heart warms at the sight. he grabs a blanket that abby isn’t using, draping it over the two of you. for the first time in a while, he feels genuinely tired. he falls asleep to the soft breaths you elicit, wrapping an arm around your waist.

you wake up to the sound of crying. you jolt awake, your eyes struggling to stay open. you look at your surroundings, remembering you’re in the office. you sit yourself up, realizing you’ve been sleeping on mike. you swallow hard, starting to feel hot all over. you feel a small weight on your body as you move. you look under the blanket and see mike’s arm around you, holding you close. your heart races at the fact you had been cuddling with him.

you then hear some talking. you look at the fort, realizing abby isn’t in it anymore.

“fuck. shit,” you murmur. you turn to mike, shaking him awake. “mike, mike. wake up.”

he furrows his brows. “mm, let me sleep.”

“abby’s gone, mike.”

his eyes shoot open and he gets up immediately, searching the office for her. “where’d she go?”

“i-i don’t know. we both fell asleep. i should’ve stayed up. i’m sorry, mike.”

“no, it’s… it’s not your job to take care of her. it’s mine.”

you both rush out of the office, finding abby in the dining area.

“abby! are you okay?” mike runs to her, dropping on his knees to inspect her.

“yeah, i closed the door on my hand when i used the bathroom,” she says. “my friend gave me a band aid.” she holds up her hand.

“let’s get you another one. you shouldn’t put bandaids on that you find on the floor,” mike says.

“my friend gave it to me!” she insists. “well, your friend is very kind,” you say. mike glances at you and you shrug. you figure you should play her little game if you’re going to try and get her out of here.

“yeah! mike doesn’t like my friends.”

“well, he’s probably jealous cause you have so many.”

abby looks up at you with a wide smile. you can see some of her missing teeth.

“it’s time to go, abby,” mike says. he grabs her hand but she twists away. “i want to stay and play with my friends!”

“no, abby. we are done here.”

“i’m pretty hungry,” you rush out. “who’s up for some denny’s?”

“me!” abby exclaims. mike frowns at you. “you don’t have to.”

“i want to get out of here, too,” you whisper. he sighs and nods. “abby, help me clean up the office then we can get some food, okay?”

“okay,” she sighs, walking back to clean up her fort and putting a new bandaid on her finger.

mike follows you to denny’s, parking beside you.

“i’ll pay for abby and i, by the way,” mike says as you enter the restaurant. you shake your head. “nonsense. it was my idea, so my treat.”

“please, no. abby’s going to order and she’s going to only eat one bite. it’s a waste of your money.”

“and it would be more of a waste if you paid. let me do this. next time you can pay for my meal.”

mike’s heart skips a beat as he thinks about next time. he hopes next time would not be at a denny’s after he just got done sleeping on the floor of an abandoned arcade.

“yeah, definitely,” he nods. “i’ll hold you to that,” you smile. “please do,” he says.

after breakfast, which abby actually ate most of, mike walks you back to your car.

“thank you again,” mike says. “don’t mention it,” you smile.

he can’t help but stare and admire you. the sun is out today, making your eyes look brighter. your lips still have some lipstick tainted on them from last night. you look tired, like everyone does when they work a graveyard shift, but your energy is high.

“i’ll see you tonight?” mike asks. “definitely. bye, abby. it was nice to meet you,” you smile down at her.

“you, too!“ she grins. you step into your car and mike unlocks his. he waits until you pull out, putting his car in reverse and backing out.

“can she come over?” abby asks. mike can’t lie, he likes that idea, but there’s no reason for you to come over to his house. even if it was to hang out with abby, which he’s sure you would say yes to in a heartbeat, but you’re so busy and the only time off you get is time to yourself. he’d hate to disrupt that.

“she’s too busy,” mike sighs. abby frowns in his rear view mirror. “okay. i like her. she’s nice and pretty.”

mike smiles a little bit. “yeah, she is.”

————

part two

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