#ill add whatever else i think it needs

[castielafflicted]

soup time soon

[the-converse-high-top]

this is going to sound really fucked up but i just need to say it i think.

I never realized that people could actually care. I always thought that the depictions of friendship in movies and TV shows were over-the-top portrayals, and weren't things that actually happened. This was then exacerbated by the fact that my entire life I always wanted people to just Know How I Was Feeling like they do on TV and I found out that that's Not How It Works. I always thought I was naive for caring so much about my friends and for doing nice things for them out of the blue, and I always resented myself for resenting my parents for not doing more for me as a child.

So when I got to uni, and my friends started caring about me and asking if I was ok when I looked sad and doing nice things for me, I didn't know what to do with myself. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me in a long time. When I was staying with a friend, and she said that she left the window open in the room I was going to be staying in because I liked it to be cold when i sleep, I bluescreened. I didn't know how to respond. It is quite literally one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me. No one had ever paid that much attention to the things I liked. Every year on my birthday it was either a gamble if I would get something I actually wanted from my parents (spoiler alert: I was often disappointed) or I would just have to straight up tell them what I wanted. I got accustomed to the latter, and now I don't mind, but receiving two gifts from friends about languages this year made me realize that I could have it so much better.

And don't even get me started on online friends. I sort of thought that everyone was lying about them? Or that it was something unattainable, and reserved only for God's Chosen Favorites or something. But no, there are little people in my phone who care about me. They legitimately care about me as much as I care about them. I've been nervous to ask them about their well-being because I'm still nervous about being naive and getting a wake-up call that no one cares again, but after being told that they were worried about me when I overslept, I think i should know that I'm in the clear. And that's not even including all the times they tell me to go to bed when it's late, and when they ping me about things I may enjoy or things I was involved in.

All this is to say I guess that I'm touched that people remember my existence. It makes me feel good to be wanted. I will be eternally grateful to both my irl and online friends who made me realize that just because my parents or my friends from home didn't care enough to remember what I like or to go out of their way to do nice things for me, it doesn't mean that no one will. I need to step up and do more for you guys. I trained myself to push down my desire to help and check in with people because I thought I was betting on something that I'd never get in return, but now I know I can.

Thank you all, and I love you 💚

[waywardsalt]

chat how do we feel about me deciding that if the other dnd party members want a specific item my character has, they need to succeed a persuasion check with a somewhat high dc

[toastsnaffler]

this assay is so fucking fake......

[thatgaydemigodnerd]

Happy disability pride month to all my physically disabled people! Wether you:

Are chronically ill

Are in chronic pain

Have reduced mobility

Need a wheelchair for whatever reason

Wish you had a wheelchair but can't get one

Have a tremor

Are a spoonie

Have reduced visibility or are blind

Have reduced hearing or are deaf/Deaf

Have an autoimmune disorder

Have a skin condition

Have something else physically wrong with you but you just can't figure out what

Have some other kind of physical disability that I didn't think of/add here (feel free to put in the tags if you are comfortable doing so)

Don't let the world forget about us this July! We are here, we aren't going away any time soon!

[image ID: the updated disability pride flag. A dark grey background with 5 stripes on it, going diagonally from the top left corner to the bottom right corner. From top to bottom the stripes are coloured: green, blue, white, yellow, red. End ID]

(yes, mentally disabled people also fall under disability pride month but this post is meant to celebrate physically disabled people, please don't derail)

[bombuni]

contains: poly!ateez x gn!reader, soft ateez taking care of u, non-verbal and self-isolating reader, implied depressed/chronically ill reader

you: babies i think it’s better if you don’t come over tonight

joong: Everything ok?

minmin: but im hungry and u said u’d make dinner :(

woo: WE’RE HUNGRY!!! OM NOM NOM

you: just not feeling it tonight. sorry

You shut your phone off with guilt weighing in your heart. You had promised your boys a nice home-made dinner after a hard week full of non-stop practicing. You knew they’d been looking forward to it the entire week, the stress-free time they’d get to spend with you, but, there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been growing the past week and now it’s big enough to stop you from doing anything else but wallow in your thoughts. Now the guilt just adds to it.

There’s times when you don’t have energy for anything. Not even for your favorite people on Earth and it’s simply your body’s fault. At least you try to tell yourself that.

There’s no response to your last message and you sent it an hour ago. Usually you’d be suspicious about the lack of whining and bickering, but you’re just too tired to worry as fatigue fogs your senses. You’re set for a night of self-pity when your front door unlocks, myriads of voices barging in and breaking the calm of your apartment. You already feel a headache coming on as Wooyoung, like usual, argues about whatever hill he’s chosen to die on.

You want to get up to greet them, but somethings stopping you. The pit in your stomach almost weighs you down, your limbs too heavy to move now. You sigh and surrender to your body’s fatigue.

Seonghwa watches you with a sad look on his face. He knows all the tell-tale signs of your sad ruts by now, the most obvious of all being when you go out of your way to isolate yourself. It hurts him because he wants to help you, but he‘s not quite sure how to do it right with you.

“Sweet thing,” he coos quietly and lays a gentle hand atop yours, “how do you feel?”

His attention turns a switch on in you, feeling yourself melt against his soft touch and caring voice. You shrug, feeling a loss of words. You don’t really have any to describe how you feel. Or rather, there’s a boulder in your throat stopping you from even attempting to say anything.

Hongjoong and San walk over, the latter immediately scooping you up into his arms despite Seonghwa’s protests. Hongjoong leans over the back of the couch, carding his fingers through your hair and tutting at the state you’re in.

“You’re not getting rid of us that easy, you know,” he mumbles.

San looks right at you even if you won’t meet his eyes, trying his best to communicate the worry he has because he knows words don’t work with you when you’re like this. Seonghwa flicks San’s forehead, pulling a loud noise of protest out of him, “Aren’t you supposed to be helping in the kitchen?”

San responds by pulling you tightly against him and closing his eyes in bliss. Seonghwa grumbles something about disrespect, but walks away to help in the kitchen himself. It’s starting to feel a little warm with San’s irresistible need to touch you and Hongjoong’s eyes not once leaving your form. It gets unbearably hot when you feel Mingi’s lips against the crown of your head, Wooyoung doing the same and immediately jumping into gently scolding you for pushing them away.

Hongjoong wants to agree but he knows it’s not what you need right now. He shushes Wooyoung, “Did you take your meds yet?”

You shake your head. Yunho walks up to you, bending down to hand you your medicine with a kind smile on his face. He takes your hand in his when you swallow your pills, kissing each of your knuckles gently, as if he fears scaring you away.

“Here.” Yeosang passes you a glass of water. There’s eight pairs of eyes on you and you can feel each one. It’s like they’re watching a zoo animal on display and you’d laugh at the thought in any other circumstance.

Jongho stands across you, intently staring you down, “You know you can’t just expect us to leave you alone, right?”

San pulls your head into his chest and throws protective arms over you as if you’re a kid getting a scolding, “Don’t be mean.”

Jongho is about to retort before Seonghwa stops him, “Ok! Ok, what Jongho means,” he kneels down next to Yunho with a gentle expression aimed at you, “Is that we want to help you, sweetheart. And it’s hard to do that when you don’t allow us to,”

Yeosang scratches at his neck as he finds the words, “We know it’s hard for you to do that, but…”

Hongjoong continues for him, “We’re just asking that you try at least. Okay?”

You hesitantly nod into San’s chest and you feel him let out a sigh of relief. Wooyoung speaks up from behind you, “You’re hogging ‘em, Sannie,”

He shakes his head violently and hugs you tighter, “No ‘m not.”

Mingi grimaces, “You totally are.”

It’s all-out war again and your body shakes between theirs as each one tries to take you for themselves. San’s still got a good grip on you as Yunho, Seonghwa, and Jongho fight to pull him off of you. Wooyoung and Mingi stand back and argue with San, really the only thing they’re good for. Hongjoong and Yeosang grimace and watch the events unfold, only waiting to step in if they notice you get overwhelmed.

But you don’t. You feel warm and loved and happy, and there’s a bubble of laughter forming in your throat and surpassing the boulder that was stuck in you before. You’ll take it one step at a time, and they’ll take that step with you.

bom note: this is for the gays with chronic fear of being emotionally vulnerable. i tried to make readers issues as vague as possible for u. Also realistically i would not want 8 men all up in my space when im in one of these moods but it’s fantasy ok shhh

[barefoothighlander]

HELLO i have a request so ill try my best to explain it okay uhm, so could you do threesome like ghost x reader x könig ? IDK ABOUT THE PLOT BUT LIKE first they dont give in because of the age gap cuz they think y/n is too young or whatever but them they get put in a same room for a night since they had to stop for some serious reasons LIKE IDK YOU TIDY UP ALL THIS MESS BUT PLEASE LIKE THE READER HAS CHOKING KINK AND DEGRADING KINK YOU MAKE THE REST THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU DO THIS BECAUSE LIKE I RLLY CANT FIND ANYTHING WHERE READER GETS SANDWITCHED BETWEEN TWO MASSIVE MEN 😭😭 i beg 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I will take every given chance to thirst over these massive men, won't lie I got carried away with this so... enjoy

warnings: mdni (18+), smut, unprotected pinv, threesome, age gap, degradation, some praise, choking, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mention of alcohol, blowjob, blindfold, oral (fem rec), creampie

You'd been in the safehouse with Konig and Ghost for two days already, two days of waiting in silence for someone to come and rescue you. The two men gave little in means of conversation, sitting quietly in their posts, keeping watch, occasionally glancing over to you.

You grew tired of the quiet within the first night, attempting a few times to spark conversations, the men would give simple responses in the form of hums or nods, not affording you full sentences. They had been awkward around you for a few weeks, the treatment starting after a drunken night at Soaps house, a few rounds of 'never have I ever' and too many rounds of shots.

"Right but if ye were to have a threesome, who'd you pick?" Soaps question makes your eyes widen, your cheeks blushing as you realize you don't even need time to think of your response.

"Ghost and Konig" Your response caused a thick tension to fill the air, you purposefully avoid the gaze of the two men as Soap's eyes lit up.

"I dinnae if you could handle both of them, lass, I mean, they're... large" Soap chooses his words carefully, eyes glancing around the room as the two men remain like statues, your heartbeat racing in your ears.

"Next question" Ghost's voice breaks the tension, you turn your attention back to your drink, heat flushing your skin.

You didn't realize how much your drunken words would affect the men but now, two weeks later and stuck in a safe house with them it showed, barely a word muttered between them.

"What's wrong with you two?" You ask in a fit of either confidence or annoyance,

"What do you mean?" Ghost turns to you

"One day were all chatting and having fun, and the next you two avoid me like the plague"

The men share a look, you throw your arms up in question,

"We aren't avoiding you" Konig shrugs

"I don't know how long we're stuck here and if neither of you will talk I'm going to lose my mind"

"Stop being a brat" Ghosts words make you tense

"Then tell me why you won't talk to me"

"Because you're just a kid," Ghost says, his voice low

"I'm younger than you, that's why you won't talk to me" You scrunch your face

"It's more that you want to fuck us" Ghost states plainly, your body freezes, your eyes widening at his words, you turn to Konig who's just as frozen as you, Ghost rests his weight on one leg, his thumb through the loop of his belt as he stares at you.

"I don't" You stammer

"What about the game the other night?" Konig adds

"Just a game"

"You're a terrible liar kid," Ghost says

"Stop calling me that" Your hands begin to fidget, unsure of what to do under the pressure of their eyes

"What would you rather us call you?"

"My name" Your eyes are glued to the floor, unable to look at them, Ghost moves toward you, his boots heavy against the floor. His hand moves to rest on your chin, tilting your head to face him,

"You sure there's not anything else you wanna be called?"

"Ghost.." Konig warns, "We can't"

"M'not sure about that, it's just us here anyway"

Your skin burns under his stare, his hand moves from your jaw back to rest on his vest, his shoulders broad, his stance purposefully intimidating you.

"Kneel"

Your breath is rapid, you keep your eyes locked on his as you drop to your knees, your neck craned to look at him,

"Ghost" Konig glances between your bodies, his tone stern, a final warning to his teammate

"Do you want this?" He softens his gaze for a moment, giving you an out, you're tiny under his hulking frame, cheeks red as your heart races, you glance between the masked man, focusing your gaze back on his skull mask.

"Please" It comes out as a whimper

"Please what?"

You huff a breath, "Please fuck me"

"Tell him" Ghost turns towards Konig, you follow his gaze, pleading eyes landing on his hood,

"Please, I need you, need you both"

"Oh kleine maus" He releases a deep breath, moving toward you, he stands behind you, you're trapped between the men with no escape, head level with their groins as your mind flurries.

"You gonna be good for us?"

You nod your head

"You gonna take what we give you?" Ghosts hands rest on his belt

"Yes" You can feel your arousal pooling, you slick drenching your panties as you sit, Ghost palms himself over his pants the tent in his pants more visible by the second.

You wriggle your hips, trying to gain some friction on your sex but Konigs hands are quick to settle on your shoulders, keeping you still,

"Careful, you take what we give you, nothing more" His voice echoes through your ears from above, you look up at the men, trying to gage what they were thinking but their masks reveal nothing, you furrow your brows in a silent plea, the sound of Ghosts belt music to your ears.

"You stay focused on me, eyes ahead" Ghost orders, you nod, doe eyes staring at him as you feel Konig kneel behind you, his hands roaming your frame.

Ghost unzips his pants letting his cock spring free, you wet your lips at the sight, a sudden nervousness taking over your body as you realize how big he is. He takes his cock in his hand, pumping it a few times,

"Don't worry, you can take it"

He teases his leaking tip against your lips, smearing his slick against the skin as you part them, flattening your tongue, he runs his tip over the muscle, gathering your saliva on it before pushing in an inch. You hum around him, the taste of his pre cum salty on your tongue.

Konig's hands move to roam under your shirt, bunching the fabric above your breasts before urging your arms up so he can lift it, his hands moving to paw at your breasts. The contact forces a moan from your throat, the vibration making Ghost let out a small grunt as he pushes deeper into your mouth.

Ghosts hand cups your jaw, pulling your gaze up to him, you stare at him through your lashes, he squeezes your jaw lightly asking permission, you nod slightly and blink your eyes at him. You brace your hands against his thighs as his fingers pull your hair back, he thrusts into your mouth slowly, allowing you time to breathe before he pulls out all the way, forcing his cock into the back of your throat, forcing you to gag around him.

You breathe through your nose as his tip brushes against your throat over and over, the saliva from your mouth polling around the base of his cock, dripping down to his balls.

Konig's hands roam further down your frame, his fingers slipping past the band of your pants to cup your sex, the contact making you moan around Ghost's length.

"Scheiße so wet already, kleine schlampe" His fingers tease over your clothed pussy, you move your hips to grind down on his fingers and he pinches your clit, forcing a muffled yelp from you.

"Needy slut" He breathes in your ear, his words going straight to your core, tears prick your eyes as Ghosts thrusts deep into your mouth, pulling his cock out as your head falls forward, gasping for air,

"Please, touch me" You pant,

"S'that what you want you fucking slag, need Konig's fingers to stretch you out while I fuck your throat?"

"Yes, God please" You beg, your chest heavy

"Earn it" Ghosts hand moves his cock back to your lips, your reach to grip his length, your saliva working to help you glide your digits up and down his cock, taking him into your mouth as Konig's hand dips below your panties, you clench your eyes shut as he pushes his fingers into you, his thumb settling against your clit as the digits pump into your weeping cunt.

"Eyes up here" Ghost's hand grabs your cheek, forcing you to look at him, your work his length, flattening your tongue to allow him deeper into your throat, gagging around his cock as Konig's fingers curve to swipe against your sweet spot.

You moan around Ghost's cock, his grip on your hair growing tighter as your hand pumps him, you keep your eyes locked on his as Jonig's fingers stretch you out, his thumb circling your clit making you clench down on him, his chest is pressed to your back keeping you still, you're trapped between the men.

Konig's free hand moves to pinch your hardened nipple, the sensation bringing you closer to the edge, Ghost can feel your movements become sloppy, his hand moving to grab atop yours, guiding it over his cock,

"You wanted it, now take it," He says through gritted teeth, he buries his cock in your throat and you arch against Konig, the hand on Ghost's thigh digging into the muscle as you reach your peak, whining and moaning around Ghosts cock,

"That's it, filthy girl" Konig coos in your ear, his fingers fuck you through your high as Ghost holds your jaw steady, his balls tighten as his head falls forward, strings of curses and grunts coming from him as he spills into your mouth, his seed dripping down your throat.

Your tears stain your cheeks as you swallow around him, gasping for a breath as he pulls out, a string of saliva dripping from his tip as you fall forward. Konig pulls his hands from you, his hands settling on your hips, helping you up, he holds you against his form and you feel his hard-on press against your back, the sensation making a shiver run up your spine.

He guides you toward the bed that sits in the corner of the room, helping you to sit on the edge before moving his hands from you.

“Close your eyes kleine maus”

You do as he says, fluttering your kids shut till your sight is consumed by darkness, you follow the sound of the men, the noises of their buckles clattering and they drop their pants down. You hear footsteps near you, hands holding the sides of your face as a piece of fabric is placed over your eyes, and tied behind your head.

“For identity's sake,” You hear Ghost say, you can’t see him but you can smell him, gunpowder and tobacco invades your senses as he moves from you.

You feel the mattress dip below you, strong arms pulling you back against the bed as your limbs splay across the sheets, rough hands knead at your breasts causing soft meals to fall from your lips, another pair tugs at your pants, pulling them from your legs so you’re bare, the cool air of the room hitting your dripping pussy, goosebumps form on your skin.

You move your arms to feel the man behind you, trying to figure out which one it was before strong hands grab yours, pinning them down,

“No touching, not yet” The English accent rings in your ears, you sigh quietly as Konig’s hands roam your bare thighs, squeezing at the flesh, you feel his breathe ghost over your cunt, you try to squeeze your legs shut but he holds them open, pressing your lower half into the mattress.

Your head rests in Ghost's lap, one hand holding yours down while his other moves to settle at the base of your neck, his fingers on your pulse point.

“Open your mouth”

You do as he says, dropping your jaw as he leans over your form, spit dripping from his tongue past your lips, you swallow it with a hum.

“Such a good little whore” His fingers squeeze lightly at your neck, your back pulls away from the mattress, arching as Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit.

He laps at your cunt, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe between your folds before closing his lips around your bud, sucking at the nerves as your head pushes further into Ghost's lap.

Ghost releases you, letting your hands roam to grab at anything you can while his settles at your breasts, twisting and punching your nipples, Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit, circling and sucking at the bud while you writhe under him.

“You’re gonna cum once more, then we’re gonna ruin you like the little slut you are” Ghost emphasizes his words with a squeeze to your throat, strangled moans escaping your throat as Konig’s tongue laps at you, inching you toward release.

His hands pin your hips as you try to grind against him, needing more,

“Be good, needy thing” He chastises from below you, his fingers digging into your hips sure to leave bruises as he continues his assault.

“C’mon, be a good little whore and cum on his tongue” Ghost voices rings above you, his words shooting straight to your core, you strain under Konig’s grip, his tongue has you teetering on the edge, he teases his fingers around your entrance earning a wanton moan from you as he pushes in, the new sensation has your vision blinding behind the mask as your second orgasm rips through your body, your hips twitching against his lips while Ghosts hands roam your form.

He eases you through your high, letting you come down slowly before detaching himself,

“Scheiße, taste so sweet, if I knew you sounded like that we would've done this sooner”

Your breaths are heavy as you lay against Ghost, your legs falling against the bed as Konig stands, his hands reach for your waist, flipping you to your stomach with ease, you fall against Ghost as he shifts under you, his hands steadying you as Konig lifts your hips from the bed.

He slots himself behind you, his palms pressing against your ass, spreading it to get a better view, Ghost's hands move to gently remove the mask from your eyes, peeling the fabric from your face, his hand on your chin as he tilts your head,

"Need you to keep your eyes on me, gonna watch you fall apart" His voice is gruff, you wriggle your hips toward Konig in anticipation, his tip gliding between your folds, collecting your slick. Ghost holds your face up, forcing you to strain your neck, an arch forming in your back as Konig lines himself up, pressing his tip against your hole, you gasp at the feeling, now aware of how big he is.

"You can take it, I know you can"

You relax your shoulders, hands pressing into Ghost as Konig pushes in deeper, the stretch of his fingers nothing compared to the way his cock feels,

"So goddamn tight maus," He says through gritted teeth, you struggle to keep your eyes on Ghost, your jaw falling open as gasps and moans slip past your lips,

"S'alright, you'll warm her up for me" Ghost reaches for your hand, moving it to settle atop his growing erection, his hand keeping yours pressed against him.

Konig quickens his pace, your body shifting back and forth against Ghost as he drags his length across your soaked walls, your slick wetting his pubes every time he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, you watch Ghost with hooded lids, his face remaining stoic as you palm his length.

Konig's grunts fill your ears, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room,

"That's it, love, take it, just like the little slut you are"

You moan at his words and you can see Ghost smirk under his mask, he's watching you unravel under their touch, your legs getting wobbly as Konig stretches you around his massive cock, forcing you to take every inch.

Konig snaked an arm around your waist, lifting your hips up slightly, allowing his fingers to tease around your clit, you let out a gasp and clench down on his length, the rough pads of his fingers circling your bud, his hold the only thing keeping you upright.

You drop your head forward but you're caught by Ghost, his fingers firm around your throat as he pulls your gaze back to him,

"Eyes on me or you don't get to cum"

You let out a small whimper, your free hand digging into the flesh of his thigh as Knoig works you toward another orgasm, the heat in your stomach building to sear your skin, every nerve alive as he thrusts into you.

He works your clit at a vicious pace, your brain a ball of fuzz as it refuses to form words, resorting to strings of moans and whimpers, you stare at Ghost with pleading eyes, tears brimming in them,

"You wanna cum?" He squeezes your throat, his other hand pressing your digits against his now firm cock.

You nod against his grip,

"Use your words"

"Yes, please, need to cum"

"You wanna soak his cock, you fuckin slag, do it, cum for us"

Your orgasm rips through your body, your limbs going limp as Konig holds you up, fucking you through your high as you melt against Ghost, fingers clenching against his flesh.

"Such a tight little pussy, mein gott, gonna make me cum"

Konig buries himself inside you, his balls pressed against your core,

"Beg for it slut, beg for his cum"

You let out a deep moan as the sensation, you're stuffed to the brim, unable to move,

"Please, need your cum, please Konig"

He grips your flesh as his muscles tighten, spilling his load inside you, keeping it deep inside your walls as he gives shallow thrusts, forcing it deeper, his spend floods your walls, spilling out as he pulls from you.

He releases you, letting you fall forward as Ghost moves from his spot leaving you limp against the bed, Konigs hands press against your shoulders, pulling you to all fours while he sits in front of you, resting against his legs. His cock is sitting in front of your eyes, his softening length teasing at your lips, you flatten your tongue but he pulls back,

"Not yet maus, gonna fill you up, don't worry"

You whimper at his words, needing to taste him while Ghost slots himself behind you, your aching core clenching around nothing as his fingers tease your slit, gathering the mixture of spend and smearing it around your skin.

He gives you no time to adjust, bottoming out in a single thrust, Konigs hands keeping you upright as your pussy clenches around Ghost, your tears stain your cheeks and Konig swipes a thumb over the wet skin,

"You're doing so well darling" He purrs, words escape you, diluted to a babbling mess as Ghost pounds into you, Konig kneels forward, his palm stroking up his length as his cock swipes across your wet lips, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

Ghost presses a firm hand to your spine, your stomach pressing against the mattress, allowing him deeper while Konigs tip teases at your mouth, you part your lips for him, he smears your saliva around his tip, the taste of his spend lingering on his cock as you flatten your tongue, tasting him.

He pushes into your mouth, your body pinned between the two men as they fill you from both ends, Ghosts hands spread your ass as he lifts his mask above his nose, a string of spit dripping from his tongue to your hole, wetting the skin as he continues to fuck you at an unrelenting pace.

Your vision is blurry, your body weak as the men continue to wreck you, Konigs length pushing past your lips to drag along the inside of your mouth, you moan around his length, your hands digging into the sheets as you try to stay balanced.

"Is this what you wanted, needed to be filled by two cocks you little slut" Ghost emphasizes his words with harsh thrusts, the wet wounds of your hole filling the air as you gag around Konig, his balls slapping against your chi with every thrust.

Their hands keep you steady as your brain clouds with lust, all your senses invaded by the two men as they wreck your body, every part of you claimed by them.

"You wanna walk around with our cum in you? Dirty fucking girl"

The thought makes you hum around Konigs cock, your pussy clenching around Ghost,

"She likes that, you want us to mark you huh, ruin this little pussy"

You can't think to respond, simply resorting to clenching your eyes and arching your hips further toward Ghost, allowing him impossibly deep inside you.

Konig moves his hand to grab your hair, tugging your neck back to allow himself deeper, burying his cock in your throat as you gag around him before he pulls out a moment, allowing you to breathe.

"Please, need to feel you" You beg, your head turning towards the man behind you, Konigs hand moves to your throat, keeping you still in front of him as he thrusts back into your mouth. You're a mess of moans between the men, your hips twitching as Ghost's fingers connect with your swollen clit.

"One more, give me one more" He circles your bud, your cries muffled by Konig's length thrusting into your mouth as your orgasm builds quickly, you want to beg him to stop but you can't, your body moulding to the men as they bring you back to the edge.

The coil inside you threatens to snap as Ghost swipes your clit in time with his thrusts,

"Scheiße, look at me" Konig pants above you, you tilt your head to face him, your skin red, your lips puffy as you stare at him through your lashes. He stares at you with a piercing gaze and your orgasm erupts in your chest, clenching around Ghost while you moan around Konig, your body trembling under the men as your vision goes white, a dull ringing filling your ears.

"That's it, fuck" He buries himself in your throat, his seed filling your mouth as his hips twitch, you hum around his tip, your tongue lapping up every drop from his cock as he pulls out with a pop.

You take a deep breath, panting as Ghost pounds into you, your head falling forward as your arms give out, your drool pooling under your cheek as he presses you into the mattress.

"So fucking good" Ghost grunts, leaning over your frame as his tip prods at your cervix, he cums with a growl, his sounds buzzing above you while he fills you with his seed, your abused hole milking him. He keeps his softening cock inside for a moment, pulling it out and replacing it with his fingers, pushing the leaking spend back inside you, your hips flinch from the stimulation, your slick coating the insides of your thighs.

You fall forward, your body limp against the bed, the mattress dips under the weight of the men, Ghost lays back against the bed, his arms tugging you against him so your head can rest on his chest. Konig turns to grab a small cloth, easing himself down the bed to carefully wipe around your core, careful to avoid your swollen clit as he cleans you.

You catch your breath while Konig lays behind you, his arms snaking around your waist to hold you, your limbs are tangled between the two men while your heartbeat relaxes. His hands draw lazy patterns over your skin as your muscles ease, melting into the men,

"Did so well" Ghost places a soft kiss on the crown of your head, your cheeks pressed to the exposed skin of his upper chest, the warmth of the men comforting your sore body as the light of the sun peaks through the windows of the house.

"So good for us" Konigs hands trace over your skin, his chest flush with your back as he sandwiches you between him and Ghost, the thrum of their heartbeats filling your ears.

[jazzyblusnowflake]

Alright, we've had Nuzi headcanons. We've now had Vuzi headcanons... Let's heart it, you're Violent Biting Biscuits headcanons, N x Uzi x V... Or if you'd rather complete the set, eNVy headcanons. I am curious of both. (Your headcannons are just super cute)

Holy hecc, I'm so sorry for answering these asks so late but i'm gonna be honest- I just never think anyone likes my writings or ever reads them XD

okay then lets see- my ViolentBitingBiscuits headcanons- i will put eNVy for the next ask because someone else asked for it too and they wont all fit here lol.

My NUziV headcanons ovo<3 :

[once again these are only the drone versions, the human versions aren't involved / also i may add some 🔞🔞🔞 ones this time lol >:3 also uhhh apologies in advance but this one is long as all hell so....um]

K we know the drill, they are all together- hopefully in the future- even if any of them dies i'm gonna pretend i do not see 🙄 deadass gonna treat this like the jjba fandom- my faves are ALIVE AND WELL SHUT UP ARAKI-

Okay so there's some things that we have already mentioned in the previous headcanons- ill try to not repeat them unless they are necessary but ill also try to treat this as its own post and lightly repeat them real quick too-

N and V started out fighting over Uzi, and Uzi obviously was mostly into N at first- but after a while i guess Vs advances got to her- especially since she was- in a way- so desperate for attention/affection, so it felt a little overwhelming to her but in a good way. they very obviously flirted with her which got them silently treating it as a challenge- and Uzi being Uzi obviously loved the attention she got out of it- opting to let this just... kinda continue lmao. she didn't expect to let it go far enough for her to end up with both of them but here we are XD

We slightly touched this topic before about V but to reiterate- all of them have different levels of trauma that they all deal with and currently V has gone through the worst of it, both having to endure Cyn's torture in her mindspace and also having to watch N get slaughtered in front of her and possibly even having a hand in it. She fears losing people that mean to her so she became avoidant with a difficult personality to guard whatever's left of her. It took a really long time for her to decide to be with the two and to protect them and not run away from her feelings for anyone or anything. but some days its still difficult for her so sometimes N and Uzi have to literally trap her into a wrestling cuddle pile or something to get her to just... exist, without feeling like the whole universe is weighing her down. N and Uzi want her to know they are there to protect HER from those inner demons too.

sometimes the cuddle piles end up with N and V once again trying to get Uzi's attention lmao which ends up with them being a little too horny on main- whoops :) - everything starts with a little nibble here, a small bite there - maybe some pillow fights and climbing over eachother or holding one another down in different positions- aaaand then they wake up a few hours later with Uzi having regrets cuz these two are horny as f-

ANYWAY- N is probably the most patient of the 3, and although he usually never breaks up fights because he trusts the other two to handle their own problems without him needing to mom them, sometimes Uzi and V go a lil too far and he gets very tired of dealing with this kind of behavior. he never blows up at them- but he usually goes away to take a breather- sometimes hanging out with Thad or the other drones- and during this time Uzi and V kinda feel bad- but then they would think of stuff like maybe planning dates or getting food for him, draw stuff on cards and etc- or go around trying to find gifts to make him happy<3 sometimes they might add some extra kisses and unwinding sessions in the end as an extra treat :p N always forgives them obviously, he just needs some guys night out every once in a while or something lmao-

Getting close to Uzi became an excuse for N and V to get closer to eachother too. ironically, it first started with them bantering about who is better at what- but then it turned into unironically flirting and teasing eachother- but after a while they realized their relationship isn't going to ever be the same as what it was back in their old days but its also something completely new, so they become more willing to accept one another and explore their newer dynamic.

they all love being coddled and pampered every now and then. Uzi and V may not outright admit it- but they really do too. so they take turns with who they put in the middle of receiving affection :p

N and V are VERYYYYYY over protective of Uzi. to the point that they wouldn't even let the doctor [for tech repair obviously] check Uzi or touch her in any way when she had a small virus case lol. Khan had to pay the poor doctor extra for that.... deciding to leave his daughter in her room in a cuddle pile of two murderous demons that have glowing cat eyes every time he comes in the room smh.

V and N really like cuddling Uzi and sticking their hands under her clothes. or sometimes just flat out sleeping or cuddling naked. its less of a sexual thing and more so to do with the fact that the two MD's have higher body temperature and a less efficiant body for cooling- since they have a more compact torso and a lot less oil and coolant fluids going through them [since they need to consume it continuously] and having a bunch of working nanobots and nanites shoved into them to turn into weapons/wings/etc- and Uzi- although having the AS- is still very much less in need of cooling due to still having a more efficient body design for a "exoplanetary worker unit", with a still functioning cooling system inside that doesn't necessarily need extra oil to make it work unless under stressful conditions.... even if she probably does have worms and fleshy tentacles inside her now lmao. But either way Uzi's body is still a lot colder than the others so she's usually shared in the middle and at this point Uzi cant even be embarrassed when they slide their hands under her clothes and grab her wherever smh..... although V also does it as a semi possessive thing so there's that pfft. she was especially handsy after that doctor left XDDD.

Yes Uzi has very much in fact ended up at the medical/tech repair unit multiple times because N and V have sometimes ended up being a bit too much for her to handle- and the doctor [a character yall shall meet later] has absolutely had it. She had to literally sit the 3 down, explain to them their body differences via scans and the damages they may cause Uzi and it was basically the robot version of having "the talk" with your child- and Uzi wanted to die there and then.

Uzi sometimes just tells the two to drink blood from her- the first time they wanted to share oil they were scared about accidentally causing Uzi to overheat- but after a few times of trying it, they continued doing it more frequently either by kissing and regurgitating or taking turns to bite Uzi or vice versa. N and V typically don't use one another's oil because they already have high usage as it is, it wouldn't be efficient. admittedly N and V always have concerns when it came to biting Uzi- but somehow they found out Uzi actually enjoys it a little when they do it and well...they get ideas lmao- they just make sure to lick her indents clean with their regenerative saliva to make the AS work as little as possible on Uzi's body.

N really enjoys seeing his partners smooch..... for study purposes ofc lmao- actually he uses his visor to take pictures sometimes- let the man be a little horny in peace smh. and don't worry Uzi and V know all this- they just wanna tease him a little bit :p

Uzi and N usually chit chat while they are in the bed until they fall asleep- but V prefers to just hug Uzi on the side listening to them while they talk until she falls asleep too

they love going around in human based areas with shops and stuff to find books to read together or any other fun human stuff they can find- maybe table top games? lol- V goes for the sports stuff. she kinda wanna try hitting something with a bat...

[okayyyy so tumblr doesn't let me write any more XD i def have more ideas but oh well. also ill save the eNVy for another ask that i have in my inbox so you'll get that soon too :p]

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny

A/N: I too have fallen ill to the widespread disease that is young snow 😮‍💨 like him being so fine is so unnecessary. Some quick notes: I've never actually written a fic on here nor a reader one in general so please deal with me! Also I wrote out this whole thing, posted it, then it went into oblivion and I had to rewrite it completely so I apologize! Please let me know if I should add anything or am missing certain details that seem necessary. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, thank you loves❤️

Summary: You've always been kind hearted yet admirably defiant. Or that is at least one of the ways Coriolanus Snow would describe you. Ever since grade school, you have always been on the same level as him in academics and one of his few competitors for the Plinth Prize. But as tragedy struck your family, Coriolanus thought you would fall away from his life, but instead, you got even more intertwined (not to mention the complicated past knots tying your families together).

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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Blood just kept on coming. And coming. And coming. Every violent cough shaking your mother's body was followed by spatters of hot, deep red blood. You quickly tried to clean it up as soon as it came out to protect your mother's dignity and to make sure she didn't choke. It took a few minutes, but the coughing session passed and your mother took deep gulps of water, fighting off your attempt to get her to slow down.

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With her engrossed in her cup, you steal a glance at the clock on the wall. As the time for the start of classes nears, the more axinety builds in your chest. Your mother follows your gaze and smiles warmly.

"Run along my little scholar. I will be fine and even better knowing you are sticking your nose in every textbook you can find."

She says in a hoarse voice. You smile slightly and lightly laugh. "That's not how school works, mom. I stick my nose into tissues because of how many textbooks I have to read ."

She rolls her eyes at your little comment and does a little motion gesturing you should be on your way. Shaking your head, you retorted "I still have half an hour till classes begin and I have plenty of time for Rhayen (your driver) to take me to the academy."

You attempt to assure her. Though, it was now your mother's turn to shake her head.

"I know you prefer walking there, don't try to fool me now. You will come back after school and I will be fine. Don't worry, darling."

With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your rouge colored academy uniform and grab your bag. You give your mother a soft kiss on her temple and steal one more glance at the clock. You rush through the halls and down the stairs of your luxurious apartment. The academy wasn't too far from your home, so you could enjoy the walk and the early spring air ruffling your hair.

You tried to smile and nod at the strangers walking past. You needed to clear your mind (distract yourself) so you examined every part of the high class society. Their eyes, faces, hair, clothing, and whatever else you could analyze. With this strategy, it doesn't take long untill the grand structure of the Capital academy to come into view.

As you near the school, you notice a certain curly haired boy sitting on the steps. You feel a sense of relief and pick up your pace. You stop infront of the boy, who seemed too engrossed into his book to notice your sudden appearance.

"Are you behind on the reading or are you being a bookworm?" You question.

He snaps his head up with his familiar smile. "Had some extra time and motivation, so thought I would trudge through this absolute -"

You nudge him with your shoulder to motion to stop talking.

"Yeah yeah I know but be careful: Professor Rhaen always spawns out of nowhere and I would personally prefer if you were not on the receiving end of one of his lectures."

Everyone knew how hard it was to please your professor and how strict your he was. Especially with Sejanus.

He didn't care about his money: professor Rhaen still felt Sejanus was lesser because he was born in the districts.

That sentiment is widely shared with your classmates. From the first day, when little kind hearted Sejanus came to the capital, he was met with stares and whispers. You specifically remember Arachne snubbing the boy. But when lunch came and he sat all alone, seemingly dejected, you sauntered over to his table. Then, just like now, his brown eyes widened in surprise. You smiled and sat down in the chair across from him.

"What's your favorite smell?"

He just stared at you for a while. who asks that. The silence continued untill you got too impatient, a trait you still struggle with, and answer your own question.

"Mine is vanilla because it smells like the sweet cakes my mom makes on special occasions or even sometimes when she is in a really good mood."

A smell that has slowly been creeping its way back into your life after the war. He laughed at your confession and replied that his was lavender, the smell of his mother, or as he calls her, ma.

He was still warry as why you were sitting with him. It was clear you were well liked by your peers and teachers and always seemed to posses the right answers, exemplified in your shared morning classes. But as you both continued your meal and conversation, he felt as if he had been sent an angel that day.

"There's that smile, I've missed it." Sejanus says, breaking you out of your reminiscence.

You duck your head down in some sort of embarrassment and shame. It felt wrong to be smiling and laughing nowadays, especially with the worsening of your mother's condition.

Noticing your reaction and following your train of thought, Sejanus tried to backtrack.

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N! I'm sorry, you've been suffering and here I am saying stuff like that. I- I- wow I'm such an idiot! I'm truly sorry."

You look up to his genuinely defated and apolgetic face. "You have no reason to be sorry, it's okay. And it's not like I'm the one suffering. I can walk, talk normally, and am not coughing up blood while my face pales and hollows." You say solemnly.

Sejanus opened his mouth to question but was cut off as you both reached your destination. It was best not to discuss your mother's condition around your gossip privy peers around.

You walk to your desks and switch to the topic of later tonight, which you would be having dinner with the Plinths, an occurrence that is becoming more and more often. The last few of your classmates filled in, including Arachne, Clemensia, Festus, and Felix.

A few paces later comes in the charming and handsome Coriolanus Snow. You wouldn't be embarrassed to admit that description, any girl with eyes would agree. With that ever plastered, neutral yet calculated expression on his face, he quickly made his way to his seat, on the other side of you.

He wasn't necessarily friends with you or even Sejanus, but he was far kinder to him than the others were. That's probably one of the many aspects that makes him more appealing. You definitely didn't have a crush on him, but you have zoned out on his side profile once or twice.

Hey, you can't blame a girl!

Well that was your excuse to Sejanus, who caught you seconds in on staring at the blonde. But that was a long time ago. Now you were always zoned out on her.

That's exactly where your mind drifted to as Professor Rhaen began his lecture on the reading assigned. And it stayed there untill the sound of a pen hitting the marble floor brought you back.

You thought it could have been you, especially in your state of hazy focus and sleep deprivation. But taking a quick look at your feet, it was Coriolanus's.

Perfect and proper Coriolanus. Huh.

You hastily grab it and give it back to him, which he accepts with a small greatful smile. A smile that quickly turns into a look of concern.

He grabs your wrist and began examining it. You were stunned and curious what he was looking at until you noticed the deep and clear blood on your wrist, clear even on your deep red uniform.

You must have gotten it when taking care of your mother! You were mentally kicking yourself for being so careless.

"Your bleeding!" He states worridly. He quickly grabs a handkerchief from his bag and attempts to put it on your wrist, but you snap it away from his hold.

You noticed the initials on the white handkerchief. It was his father's. You certainly weren't going to stain such an item of sentiment with blood that wasn't even yours. Her blood.

He was moving to grab your wrist once again but was interrupted by the clear nosies of irritation and frustration of your classmates.

While you and Snow were having your little debacle, Professor Rhaen assigned an extensive research paper that will be due in two months. You understood your peers frustration, the longer you had in this class for an assignment, the more work and harsher the grading will be. But you were greatful for this assignment. It would be a wonderful distraction.

You took a quick look around to gage their reactions and saw Arachne's scowl which made you inwardly chuckle at her expression. But when you came back around to Coriolanus, you saw him still staring at with you a questioning expression.

Questions he would be unable to voice as the bell rang to signal the end of the first period. He tried to stop you or slow you down, but you were extremely focused on getting your materials in your bag and getting out of the intense stare of the blonde.

Sejanus noticed your haste and helped you out, while Snow was attempting to catch up, handkerchief still in hand. But you sped out and straight to the bathroom to wash off the blood covering your hands.

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A/N: Sorry to cut it off here! I felt this was already so long (future me after doing some revisions and having some actual writing under my belt - no it's not.), but don't worry I plan on posting again soon! I am excited to see where this is going I hope you all are too!

[katerina-marie]

The Tragedy of a Duality

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader and (Past) Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6, Chp 7 (Final)

In the present, you are a sorcerer and the cherished wife of the Honored One. In an era long gone, remembered by only one, you were ordinarily human and the beloved bride of the King of Curses. How fitting it would be, in an evening of destruction, to have your heart torn in two.

Content: JJK Universe and Canon Events (tho tweaked to incorporate reader), Fluff, Angst, Flashbacks, Ambiguous ending, Violence, Death, Female reader but left descriptively vague, No use of y/n, True Form Sukuna in the past, Itadori Yuji is Sukuna's vessel in the present but nothing inappropriate b/n reader and Itadori as the vessel, Will add more CW to each chapter if needed.

WC: 6.1k

A/N: A flashback, some cracky humor (cause it all goes downhill after this), and Sukuna's POV.

Chapter 6

You are not certain, but you think it is close to evening by the way darkness begins to creep onto the walls of your bed chamber. 

A throbbing ache feels as though it may nearly split your skull, and it slithers down behind your eyes and nose. There is a chill to your body that has persisted since the last time you fell asleep, and if you request one more blanket from the servants, you worry they might consider putting you in the fire completely as nothing else seems to suffice. You briefly entertain the idea. Anything, really, if it will get the aching of your muscles and joints to cease. The only small mercy of being struck with an illness is the way you are left relatively unbothered to burrow beneath your mountain of blankets and slip in and out of feverish slumber as you please. 

“Would you care to tell me why I had to wait until now to hear from Uraume that you have been bedridden?” 

Were unbothered, it would seem. 

“Bedridden is a bit extreme, Sukuna. It is just a fleeting sickness.” 

Still nestled under your blankets, you manage to open one eye and peek out. Your husband stands just before your bed with his upper arms crossed and his others hidden beneath his white robes. There is no humor to soften his face, and you let out a small sigh of defeat. 

“I will be alright,” you assure him. “I asked Uraume not to say anything to you before you left yesterday after our midday meal, so please do not be cross with them.” 

“And I may ask again; why?” 

You try to smile at Sukuna this time, but you suspect it might be a little lopsided or dazed—something fever induced. “Well, it is nothing overly concerning and I am being well cared for. Besides, I did not want to get in the way of whatever conquering or pillaging or other kingly duty you were whisked away for.” 

Sukuna does not reciprocate the haphazard grin on your face, nor does he bristle at the way you try to poke fun at him. “That is foolish of you.” 

You gawk at him. “Well, that is rude. If you will not be kind, go off elsewhere and I will find another to listen to my complaints.” 

You are only half-heartedly disgruntled by his brusqueness, but you go to throw a blanket back over yourself nonetheless when you feel his hand seize your wrist. He bends at the waist to hover over you, and his eyes do not let go of yours. “You will inform me immediately the next time you are ill.” 

This time, your eyes narrow and indignance sharpens your voice. “And for what purpose would that serve? You are very busy and we have perfectly adept staff who are able to answer my beck and call. You do not need to waste time tending to me, Sukuna.” 

Your vehemence drives his back upwards. His arms hang still at his sides and you can see his jaw clenching. “It would please me to do so, should you give me the opportunity.” 

The words freeze whatever curt retort you have ready on your tongue, and you blink at him, admittedly dumbfounded. 

“Do you think I would not?” Sukuna asks, and you don’t particularly like the way his voice sounds almost hurt. You open your mouth, ready to speak, but you aren’t sure if you should be apologizing or offering some kind of explanation because if you are being very honest, you are not quite sure if he would have spent the day at your side while you languish in sickness. 

“Ah,” he murmurs, and this time there is no denying that you have wounded him. “I am sorry that I have acted in a way that makes you think so.” 

If you look back on the last six months of your marriage, there is not any true example that would sway you into believing one way or another. Sukuna has his moments of tenderness with you, but they do not hide away his tendency towards terseness or foul moods, though that is mostly reserved for his communication with others. 

“It is not that,” you tell him slowly, and you finally feel ashamed when surprise makes his brows lift. “I am afraid I have hastily made an unfair assumption. I apologize.”

Sukuna does nothing for a moment but look at you, but eventually he nods and takes a step back. “No apology necessary. I will leave you to rest.” 

Your heart lurches in your chest when he turns to leave and you see something akin to disappointment on his face, so you quickly claw your way out from under your blankets to sit up and call his name. 

“Please wait,” you ask of him, and you are grateful when Sukuna does pause at your door. “I would like it if you would lay with me.” 

He hesitates, and now exposed to the cool air of the room, you shiver. 

“If that would please you,” he says quietly, and Sukuna is already slipping into bed before you can blink. You shuffle over to make room for him, but he is quick to draw you against his chest and tighten the blankets around you both. The heat that radiates off his skin is delightful, and you make a noise of contentment as you wiggle in as closely to him as you can get. You feel a pleased rumble in his chest under your cheek and it brings a smile to your face. 

“Thank you,” and you whisper it into his skin. 

The two of you remain silent and still underneath the blankets for long enough that sleep begins to steal you away, but Sukuna’s voice just happens to catch you before you drift off. 

“Being gentle,” he starts, and it sounds as though he is a little unsure of himself. “It is not in my nature. It is not something that comes obviously and easily to me.” You lean your head back so you can look at him, and you are thoroughly wrecked when you realize there is vulnerability in his eyes. You cling to him a little tighter then. “But for you, because there is nothing that will ever come before you in terms of what is important and precious to me, I will do my best and try.” 

Tears sting your eyes and something like love surges inside of you, and nothing—not even the pain in your head—would keep you from pressing your mouth against his. Sukuna allows it, returns it with equal fervor, but pulls away from you sooner than you would like. He smiles at the whine you let out and the pout that turns your lips down, and you feel his hand cup your neck as he urges your head back down against his chest. 

“Hush now and rest.” 

You scoff, a tired breathless thing, but your tone is affectionate when you tell him, “what a terrible monster you are.” 

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The grand reveal of a not-dead Itadori to Fushiguro and Kugisaki takes place as planned the following day. The two take it a little better than you anticipated, though you still cringe through the entire surprise that you unsuccessfully tried to convince Satoru not to do. They stare in disbelief and shock as Satoru ushers Itadori out from the cramped storage bin he’s in. They don’t say a word as their friend waves at them with a wide grin on his face, and before you can protest, Satoru simply laughs and encourages them to have a good day in training before bounding off to who-knows-where, leaving you to gently reassure the three of them and offer a brief explanation for the whole situation.

“So, you knew the entire time?” Kugisaki questions, and skepticism is all over her face as she stands with her hand on a cocked hip. The three first years hover around you under the tree in the corner of the training field, and both Kugisaki and Fushiguro look as if they’ve aged five years. “Gojo-sensei didn’t lie or hide it from you?” 

“No,” you say with an adamant shake of your head. “I don’t think he’s capable of keeping a secret like that from me. Not that it would be in his best interest to do so.” 

It’s not speculation that has you telling her such. Many times over the years Satoru has proven his inability to lie to you, or even distort the truth in a way that could be considered deceptive. All it takes is a knowing look in his direction and Satoru is spilling his guts. 

“Yes, alright! It was me that broke Nanami’s glasses. Please don’t tell him! I already sold out Kugisaki for it.” 

“Oh…no. That is not an engagement ring I’ve been hiding under my pillow. Why would you ask that?” 

“So, I maybe, kind of told Suguru you find his technique disgusting and that’s why he won’t partner up with you for assignments anymore, but hey! Don’t be mad. Now you’re with me!”

Or even last night for instance, after each of you exchange apologies for the earlier fight, Satoru hurriedly explains that he didn’t intentionally hide the fact he fed Itadori the second finger and just simply forgot to mention it. You laugh nervously and quickly forgive him again as you try to hide the fact that you have forgotten about that particular detail. Nanami must have chastised him in some way, and you suppose you're grateful. But really, you just want Satoru to stop looking at you with that kicked puppy expression. 

You shake your head of the memories and look back at your students. “It almost never ends well for him, so it’s not something he does often.” 

Fushiguro scoffs and shoots you an exasperated look. “Does he at least learn his lesson and apologize?” 

His words exasperate the last lingering bits of guilt you still feel from yesterday’s argument, and you wince as you try to come up with a reply that would restore the image of Satoru’s character.

Kugisaki beats you to it and throws her head back in laughter. “What a sight that would make! Gojo-sensei begging your forgiveness with a bouquet of flowers in hand!”

Itadori gags and Fushiguro looks like he feels the same. 

“Pathetic and sad is exactly what that would look like,” he says, and he starts to walk away with Itadori to avoid any more talk of Satoru and grand romantic gestures.

You sigh defeatedly and use a hand to wave off Kugisaki’s suggestion. 

“There’s really no need for such extremes,” you say. “Besides, Satoru knows better than to get me flowers.” Your face puckers like you’ve smelled something rancid.

Kugisaki doesn’t have the chance to respond before Itadori is snapping his head towards you so harshly and abruptly that you would worry for the bones in his neck if there weren’t black tattoos suddenly taking over his face. You’d say Sukuna nearly looks stunned stupid if offense didn’t have him gaping at you.

“You do not care for flowers?” 

It doesn’t come out as a question so much as it does a demand for an explanation, and you are perplexed as to why such an asinine topic of conversation could possibly prompt him into coming out. Especially when he looks grumpier now than every other time you’ve seen him.

Fushiguro and Kugisaki, on the other hand, look very much like they’ve seen a ghost. 

“Uh, no,” you tell him, and Sukuna’s head recoils back like you slapped him. “I don’t like them. Something about the pollen or whatever itches my nose and makes my eyes water. I avoid them the best I can, honestly.” 

Sukuna can only blink at you, and it isn’t until you lift your hands in a tentative apology that laughter begins to build in his chest. It rises in volume exponentially until he rears his head back, and it bursts out of him in a way that is nearly hysterical. It makes the hair on your arms stand up, and you, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki take an uneasy step back from him. His laughter cuts off and when he turns his eyes back to you, they are wide in their excitement and his grin is full of teeth.

“Well, that is new!” Sukuna thunders, and you have no earthly idea as to what he could be referring to. “You did always know how to surprise me.” 

And just as quickly as they appeared, the tattoos fade, and within a moment, Itadori is shaking his head and looking to you for clarification. You shrug because it’s not like you have any to offer. 

After some gentle reassurance of their safety, you coax your students onto the training field to spar with one another while you watch from under the shade of a tree. With your thoughts scattered between all manner of things, time passes without you perceiving it, and Satoru is waltzing back onto the training field an hour later, munching on an apple and looking as though he has no care in the world.

“How are my beloved students doing?” he asks when he takes his place by your side, though he stands just a bit farther than he usually would. You give him a hesitant smile and wave a hand towards where Kugisaki has just dealt a particularly harsh blow to Itadori’s side as she cackles. Fushiguro watches from a few feet away, looking very much like he’d rather be anywhere else. When Satoru calls to them in greeting, all three turn and offer waves and ‘hellos’ in varying levels of enthusiasm. 

“Just fine,” you tell Satoru, and he bats his lashes at the pointed look on your face, “though they would probably do even better if their esteemed teacher actually showed up to teach them.” 

Satoru shrugs in a what can you do attitude, and you roll your eyes as you swipe the apple from his hand to take a large bite of it. The remaining tension between you two eases, and you’re thrilled to see the small makings of a smile on his lips.

“Fruit thief,” he complains, and you giggle around a mouthful of apple. 

Suddenly, a loud curse and an exclamation of surprise sound out from where the students are on the field. When you and Satoru spin around in that direction, Kugisaki is sprawled out on the ground face towards the sky and laying farther away from the other two than what should reasonably be possible. Fushiguro stares with a haunted look on his face. Itadori is breathing heavily and looks just as shocked. When he glances down at his hands as if they could explain what happened, you notice the slits under his eyes flicker shut and a pool of dread settles in your stomach. 

Satoru looks at you briefly before he’s striding out onto the field with hands buried in his pockets. 

“Yuji,” he calls, though there’s no discipline in voice. “Let’s not try and throw our peers halfway across the field, okay?”

All three students laugh, albeit nervously, as Satoru goes to check on them, and you are left to worry about what in the world could have set off Sukuna. 

------------------------

There are a number of things you could blame your lack of reaction on, but you would probably just chalk it up to plain exhaustion if you live long enough for anyone to ask. 

While Fushiguro and Kugisaki are somewhere up above on the highway fighting two curses, you and Itadori handle one under a bridge in a shallow ravine. You manage to dodge the first blow from the curse across from you, but your limbs are already weary and the ground is slick, and you aren’t quick enough to defend against the second one. In a final moment, you throw your arms up in some meaningless way to protect your face and clench your eyes shut. You have a split second to anticipate the pain before a great force has knocked you to the ground and into the cold earth below.

“Move!” Sukuna growls in your ear, and it takes you a beat to recognize that the weight at your back is him. You think his hands might clench into your shirt and maybe it’s his nose in your hair, but you have no more time to consider it as he is up and off of you as soon as you blink. 

You push onto your hands and peer over your shoulder where the curse now sits in a pile of ash. When you sit up completely, Sukuna is standing off to your right and looks down at you, his face completely devoid of any emotion. His shirt is torn at the elbow and singed in a couple spots. He rolls his shoulder twice, loosening the muscles there, and though he makes no move to help you up, his hand clenches and unclenches rapidly. You get up on your feet then.

“You are unharmed?” he asks, and there’s a rough edge to his voice that you don’t recall being there before.

You glance up at him in the middle of sweeping dirt from your arms and hands, a fruitless attempt since you’re covered in an amount of mud that only a shower would fix, and he is clearly expecting your immediate answer. 

“I’m alright.”

Sukuna nods once and then shifts away from you to sweep his eyes along the edges of the trees and further down the ravine. You recognize the meticulous way he scans the scenery, deeming it clear of any remaining threats, and the action tugs at something in your chest. Satoru tends to do the same thing anytime the two of you go on an assignment together, and you always tease him for his over precaution. 

“Thank you,” you add quietly, because the extra protective measure certainly isn’t for himself. Sukuna doesn’t turn back or respond to your gratitude, but his lower eye takes glimpses of you out of its corner. 

“Can I ask you a question?” you blurt out. 

Sukuna doesn’t respond right away. All that fills the silence is the trickling of a nearby stream and the faint crackling rustle of the tree branches above your head as they sway slightly in the evening breeze. But then he is angling his chin to glance at you over his shoulder. “If I am not mistaken, you just did.” 

He sounds less than enthused, but curiosity has been eating you alive since the very moment Sukuna first made himself known to you, and so the words tumble forth with no hope to stop them.

“What happened?”

Surely he must know what you are referring to, and you see Sukuna’s shoulders heave with a great sigh. He splays his fingers wide, and the veins and tendons in his hands pop in a way that looks painful. With an eerie slowness, he turns toward you and levels you with a look that has you immediately regretting the question.

“Do you really wish to know?” The edge of his voice is nearly taunting, almost tempting. 

No. Yes. Maybe. It’ll keep you up at night if you don’t know, but you worry you’ll never sleep the same again if you do. 

Sukuna must see the indecision on your face, and he makes the choice for you.

“Well then,” he begins casually, but his demeanor as he starts to walk towards you is anything but. It takes all your concentration to stay rooted to your spot even though instinct tells you to flee. “To what extent will your curiosity be satiated?”

Anxiety is churning your stomach, and something about this is very wrong. His movements are predatory in their preciseness, and his eyes are narrowed, hardened by something unknown to you. He is different. Something has shifted, and you wouldn’t have called Sukuna kind, but whatever keeps the ferocity of his anger-adjacent emotions in check is long-gone. When he comes to a stop an arm’s length apart, he smirks and it is cruel.

“Would it thrill you to hear that I know how you taste?”

You feel the color bleed away from your face because surely he can’t mean—

 “And certainly in more ways than you are thinking.” 

His eyes track the bobbing of your throat when you swallow loud enough for you both to hear. At the same time, your foot slides backward in the mud to maintain distance, and his follows suit.

“Or,” Sukuna emphasizes, and his eyes flare wide. “How would you feel if I told you that the blame for your death lies at my feet?” 

It’s the first confirmation you get for something you have suspected—that if what he says is true, you died centuries ago—but the implication that it’s Sukuna’s fault is something you hadn’t considered, and the idea is terrifying and prompts more questions that you don’t have the gall to ask. 

“Nevermind,” you tell him. You look out around you and then up at the highway to see if you can spot Fushiguro and Kugisaki anywhere, eager to be done with this conversation. But Sukuna is not done with you, and he creeps just a little closer. 

“But you want to know,” he croons, and now your heart is starting to race and the fine hair on your arms stand straight. “Shall I describe to you how you used to mewl and beg when I had you under me? Or that you liked when I would sink my teeth into that spot where your neck meets your shoulder.” 

Sukuna tilts his head, and the innocence of it is such a harsh contrast to the severity of him. “Tell me, does that husband of yours do the same?” 

“Please, stop.” Normally you’d hate the weakness in your voice and the way it nearly comes out in a whimper, but you don’t care, not when your only priority is getting away from him. You take a hurried step back and your heel slips, and there is a sickening swoop in your stomach as you begin to pitch backwards.

But in a movement too quick for you to see, Sukuna catches you around your upper arms. You dangle back in his grip as he lowers his head so closely to yours that your noses almost touch. His eyes burn red, his mouth is twisted into snarl, and he must be able to feel the way your breath stutters out over his face. Sukuna bows over you, and behind his head, the midnight blue of the night sky encompasses the view of your peripherals. In the back of your mind, you take notice of the fact that you don’t feel the prick of his nails against your skin.

“Do you dream of me?” Sukuna whispers, and it is hushed and frenzied and derisive. His eyes dart down once to your lips. “Do you have nightmares about what will happen when I get a hold of that last finger? Whom do you think I will come for first—you, or your beloved?”

You wrench yourself back with a sob, and Sukuna somehow relents. His hands leave your arms as rapidly as they came, but you stand steady and upright when he appears a couple feet away. 

“Ah,” Sukuna chides, and satisfaction makes his expression haughty, though there is something mournful hiding in the lines of his face. “You remember me now; a monster—evil, if you do say so yourself.” Shame passes over you quickly as you realize he heard the tail end of your argument with Satoru. 

 “Well, I am pleased to meet your expectations.” He sneers at you as he shoves his hands into his pockets, and you hear fabric tear. If you didn’t know any better, you would say you wounded him. 

But that can’t be possible, not when he is what he claims to be and what you accuse him of. You are reminded now of what a pointless endeavor this is. Whatever it is you want to call it—a latent curiosity, a brief musing for passing boredom—is irrelevant, as is whatever tragic history that may or may not have occurred a thousand years ago. There is plenty of reasonable doubt for you to conclude that only a shred of truth might hide in between the vitriol Sukuna spits. As for the scant moments of tenderness, where his eyes bleed longing and every inch of him yearns to touch you, you dismiss them as fleeting instances of torment in the name of entertainment. Gentleness would be a facade he wears and something he couldn’t be familiar with. Monsters don’t know such things. 

“Nevermind,” you say, and this time your voice is firm and unwavering. “I don’t want to know.”

Silence follows and Sukuna is unfazed by your answer. He doesn’t try to persuade you, and you think he sees the finality in your face. The lowering of his eyes and the clenching of his jaw might betray the emotion he’s working to keep concealed—disappointment, regret, misery—but he turns and begins to walk away before you can study him any further. 

“I will leave the brat over here for you,” he calls and then slips into the darkness of the trees. There is something resigned and dismissive in the sound of his voice and the way he waves a hand over one shoulder, and it leaves you to wonder what will happen the next time you meet Ryomen Sukuna.

------------------------

When you whisper “I’m sorry” into the skin between Satoru’s shoulder blades, it is hours after you return home muddy and exhausted from your assignment, and enough time has passed since the two of you went to bed that you both should already be asleep. Satoru might have been close to it with the groggy way he says your name, but he stirs nonetheless and twists under the covers so he can face you instead. 

“What for?” he asks. His eyes blink heavily, and his hair is almost long enough now to tangle in his lashes, the white of them making where one ends and the other begins nearly indistinguishable. “We already apologized to each other, remember?” 

You appreciate the softness on his face and how forgiving his voice is, but you still shake your head. “You deserve a better apology. My feelings at that moment wouldn’t have changed, but I shouldn’t have let my temper get in the way of discussing things with you.” 

Satoru’s answering smile is a little sad, but he still reaches for you so he can wrap his arms under your neck and over your shoulder. He tugs you once more so your head leaves your pillow and is cushioned by his bicep instead. His embrace is as warm and comforting as you always know it to be, and you skim your nose against his collarbone to breathe in the lingering scent of his soap and shampoo. Doing so lowers the volume level of the noise in your head. 

“Well, then I owe you one too. I am sorry. I was being childish.” You feel Satoru tighten his arms around you and his chest expands against yours as he inhales deeply. “You have to know that you are the most precious thing to me. There is nothing else. I do not mean to coddle you or doubt your capabilities in any way. And I trust you implicitly.” He leans back slightly so he can look down at you. “There is no word fitting to describe what I would feel if something happened to you. So please, forgive me when I am unbearable. It is only because I love you.” 

It strikes you then that love could take the form of overprotection and possessiveness in a man who has already lost someone dear to him to a greater evil, and you hate that you now understand the feeling so well. 

You can only nod in response, mostly because tears are pricking your eyes and you are one second away from having your breath hitch in your throat, so you quickly duck your head to hide against him. Satoru, in all his perceptiveness, would certainly not miss it if you started crying, and you don’t know how to describe to him that those tears come from so many different things: exhaustion—mental and physical, anxiety, an overwhelming love for him, and shame that you hurt someone, even if one could argue he deserves it. 

But Satoru knows you too well, and his voice is full of concern when he asks, “did something happen earlier?” 

“Whom do you think I will come for first—you, or your beloved?”

“No,” you lie, and the hypocrisy of your conversation with the first years a while back isn’t lost on you. If anything, it’s what drives a single tear to break free from your lashes and dart over the bridge of your nose. You hope Satoru doesn’t feel it when it drops onto his skin. 

“Are you sure?” 

You’re not, but you don’t have the wherewithal, the energy, the bandwidth, or any type of capability to discuss that with him. Maybe later. Maybe another day. But for now, you are determined to put away any lingering thoughts of a monster with pink hair. You refuse to give into the fear he certainly tried to strike in you, unwilling to let it needle its way any further into the marriage you have now, regardless of whether or not you were part of another in some previous lifetime. 

So, you suck in a deep breath and blink away any moisture from your eyes because you are in the arms of the man you love, and when you shift back to look at Satoru, the smile on your face is effervescent and genuine. 

“I am sure.” 

------------------------

The simple mind of Itadori Yuji is utterly dull and painfully boring. There is nothing for Sukuna to do but contemplate the decisions that now find him trapped, and that—combined with the incessant chattering of the other two sorcerers beside the brat—is why he misses every sign of your approach. 

He doesn’t pay much attention when the white-haired one stands up with a moronic grin on his face, and Sukuna does not think that whatever suddenly catches the boy’s attention will be anything worth it. That is, until, the first images of you cross Itadori’s mind and Sukuna’s entire being is jolted so jarringly that he is in control and looking at you for the first time in a thousand years faster than anyone in the room can anticipate.

You are as stunning and magnificent as the day he first saw you, and your expression is nearly the same this time around; wide eyed, lips parted in a way that you probably don’t mean to be enticing, and Sukuna is lost in you all over again. Maybe it’s delerium—elation—that makes memories of the past flash in front of him as he drinks you in, and for a minuscule second, Sukuna is back under a pear tree.

But devastation is quick to follow when he realizes that recognition is not flickering in your eyes when your gaze meets his, and despite how you try to hold yourself strong and still, your limbs tremble and you lean away from him. Sukuna has spent a millennia mourning you, and regrettably, he wonders just how many lives of yours he missed while split into pieces across the land. He thinks it’s fitting penance because of what he let happen to you. However, in this moment you meet again, you seek out another, one who is not him and whose face is responsible for the smile on your lips that spurred him into movement just before. 

You belong to another, and you do not remember him.

Then, in the morgue, it’s the first time Sukuna is alone with you in centuries. He saved the brat whose body he borrows, only because he knows how your heart is soft for the lives of mortals, and once upon a time it opened up for him who is not. You thank him, and Sukuna knows he is powerless to anything you ask of him.

 You are only an arms reach away, and the combination of your scent and the way your mannerisms are familiar bring him as close to giddiness as he can allow. And then, however far-fetched, Sukuna thinks you might reach out and touch him, and he is ready to lean forward and accept your hand.

But Gojo Satoru is at the door, and when you turn to look at him, Sukuna is all but forgotten. The way you smile and preen for him is abhorrent, and in an unprecedented move of cowardice, Sukuna releases control back to Itadori Yuji, if only so he doesn’t have to watch as your husband stakes his claim on you. 

And then he hears you arguing with Gojo, and it dashes whatever pleasant emotion was building inside of him at the unexpected opportunity to see you. For once, Sukuna thinks he might be grateful for Itadori Yuji when he effectively ends the conversation. The vehement hatred in your voice and the words you spat repeat viciously inside his head, and Sukuna is demanding that Itadori flee the room so he no longer has to look at you. It pains him. You pain him. And truthfully, that has to be the underlying reason for why Sukuna lashes out at you in the middle of a ravine on a dark night. 

He relishes in the brief connection of your bodies, and allows himself the smallest inhale of your scent before he can bear it no longer and throws himself from you. Sukuna is torn between his anger at you and his need to concern himself with your wellbeing. Instead, he takes to diligently scouring the surrounding trees to ensure there isn’t hidden danger lurking. 

When you ask him in a voice that is timid and unsure to explain to you what really happened a millennium ago, fury mounts as Sukuna hears your words play back again inside his head. Did you deserve to know something so sacred to him? Would you carefully listen or trample all over the truthfulness of it, considering it as nothing more than an unfortunate story? Sukuna doesn’t know if he’s able to withstand that kind of wound from you tonight, and in a poor attempt at self protection, he does what he’s best at—what is in his nature. 

There are tears running down your cheeks that you don’t seem to notice. You look at him in fear and trembling, and something inside Sukuna despairs. You don’t know that there has never been a need for you to cower under him. That once long ago, you meet his fury and ire with bared teeth of your own, fiercely strong and unafraid. You can smooth away Sukuna’s temper with nothing more than a stroke of your skin against his, but you will not. Not with the way you’re looking at him now, and Sukuna knows he’s put you on the path of hating him. 

He does not know the point of it, or what benefit doing so serves him. Sukuna supposes it’s because he has no idea what to do with you now. There is no feasible path he can see that would bring you back to him. He knows your loyalty would never broker space for him in your heart after already dedicating yourself to Gojo Satoru. He doubts the white-haired sorcerer would share you, and Sukuna detests the idea of it even more.

To follow through with his threat and rip your lover from you would only further sway you into the camp of others who conspire against him in this age and obliterate any hope that you would willingly come to him. That aside, inflicting you with the same pain of loss that he experienced after your death is too cruel, even for a creature like him. 

In a last ditch attempt, Sukuna could surrender himself completely to the authority of today’s jujutsu (Gojo Satoru, again) and remain obediently imprisoned inside Itadori Yuji in exchange for getting to watch you from afar. He thinks he owes you that at least; a long-lived life with the person you love. 

But that idea wars with Sukuna’s very being. He would never prostrate himself so lowly and submit himself to be controlled in such humiliation. But he always swore that nothing would come before you, and there is no else worthy of his complete submission than you. Though, Sukuna worries this alternative would drive him to the edge—if not into complete—madness. Subjecting himself to a lifetime of watching you love another the same way you once loved him seems like an effective way of destroying himself. 

Thus, Sukuna remains directionless and hides in the coverage of the trees. He wants to watch you for just a moment longer before he has to give control back to the brat. It aches him to see how you wipe tears from your cheek and then roll your shoulders back to shake off any lingering emotion. The sight is so familiar, so quintessentially you, but only in a time before this, and he desperately wishes he was still there.

Ryomen Sukuna misses you, even when you are standing right in front of him.

------------------------

A/N: I am sorry if this chapter felt unpolished compared to the rest. As soon as I started to feel better on Friday, my toddler got sick and has been since then. I didn't get to devote the same amount of quality time editing this chapter as I would have liked, and I don’t anticipate that changing until my little one is better. If the final chapter isn't posted on Wednesday like I originally planned, it should only be a day or to delayed (but I don't think it will be).

Thank you all <3

Taglist (open): @kalopsia-flaneur ; @kafanizdakicokiyi ; @rosso-seta ; @lululala06

[p4r4syte]

its boiling hot rn so heres some lost boy hcs. what i think theyd do/be like in summer (mildly suggestive?)

pls add comments, ill add to it :3

David :

•avoids everyone. i know vampires are cold blooded but no doubt these mfs get agitated during summer. David the worst. he’d be sat there, coat discarded with a pissed off expression. still smoking. god forbid he doesnt smoke

•will even get pissed off with Feeding Time™️ because the bloods warm so he’d just disappear for days on end. hiding away. basically hibernating

•Is Extremely Snappy. he will go for anyones throat, doesnt even matter if youre together (god forbid mates), he’ll be avoiding you just in case but will Bark at the boys given any chance

•”he wouldnt hurt a fly” HE WOULD!!!!!! Fuck That Fly Do Not Invade My Personal Space

•will only calm down once hes cooler, he would genuinely have to piss off to the sea (or i imagine the cave has a watered in area) ((only dwayne knows about it but he let david in on it)) or hes sulking in a damp, desolate part of the cave. just waiting for the summer to end

•only one of the boys that can speak to david during this time is dwayne because of how hes empathetic towards his Boys. Marko And Paul Will Be DropKicked On Sight.

•sleeps upside down, near the darkest most secluded park of the cave. there isnt any air, theres no breeze. he doesnt care, he just wants to, fester. Leave Him To Fester

Marko :

•becomes more feral than he ordinarily is

•he Will be dangling from the ceiling, trying to catch any breeze that rolls in

•he will also be chilling with the pigeons, they find the coolest places in the cave to rest so Why Not?

•the summer heat will also be giving him unneeded energy. he WILL be playfighting with paul and then laying there overheating and gets pissed off once paul tried to interact with him again. Cant You See Im Warm? Jesus.

•will find endless cool drinks on the boardwalk once it cools down during night. itll give him no sustenance and he’ll be pissed off that he has a headache tomorrow but. Mmm Slushie :3

•still eats hot food and will complain about how hes warmer now than before he ate the food. yes he knew beforehand. no he wont stop. let him complain

•him and paul sit shirtless in the centre part of the cave, eating ice creams and then getting pissed off once theyve eaten them all (or theyve melted)

•calmer than david, less irritated than dwayne, less energetic than paul

•sleeps in a random, small part of the cave because the air rushes straight through (he followed the pigeons)(he learns many things from them, this is one of the many great things he found out)

Paul :

•please calm down. its Hot. Get The Memo

•continues his antics, just with, less clothes.

•the ONLY motherfucker thats actively trying to interact with everyone else

•he doesnt get it, god bless. not a single thought in that head x

•is also smoking. sat on that fountain (the cold marble against his back), trying to yell to the others (they ignore him) speaker blasting music (its pissing everyone off)

•the only one that actually leaves the cave (until he convinces marko to get slushes with him. then hes no longer going alone)

•a nuisance. a pure fucking mosquito of a man. he’d be stuck to you if he could, please don’t let him you dont know where hes been (various ponds) (hes upside down in a shrub) (dont help him)

•hes a boombox blaster, weedsmoking, white rum drinker in summer. or whatever he can get his hands on. but best believe he’s living it up even if he doesnt make it out the cave most nights

•sleeps drunk in the fountain, naked. Hey, Its Cool. What Do You Want From Me?

Dwayne :

•is the only one who Actually attempts to cater to the rest

•he knows exactly how everyone is and as much as he Needs To Rot too, he needs to check on everyone first

•only person hes really checking on is david lets be honest

•after finding david and just, checking, he’ll find his own section of the cave. not too far, within ear distance of Everyone in the cave

•he’ll just rest there for a while, just dangling, all sweaty

•sometimes he has enough energy to chill with paul and marko but quickly loses it after a while. paul is Way too much for him in this heat. Hes Markos Issue Now :)

•he is the only one that will remind the other boys that they need to eat. it may be hot, but you still need to eat. cue moody david, hyper paul, sweaty and overstimulated marko and coping mother dwayne

•doesnt speak to anyone, literally not at all, because hes just Too Hot™️ so he’ll just pull your hand to what he wants, guiding you to what he needs

•sleeps alone, in the centre on the cave. just above where they all gather, so he can hear everyone but is just far enough away to get peace. oh, hes also naked.

[th3fam1lyd1ssap01ntm3nt]

RAAAAAHHHHHHH hello :3!!!

I am

Wondering if you would be ever so kind,,,

To write the monster au(or the hybrid au) of TF141 and I was like oh,,, Gaz no on list,,, who else,,, Johnny. Request thee Johnny, you could add the others for funsies as well, I don't mind the werewolf Johnny I like hims a lot as ,, but like, imagine, Male!user(I don't know what we call him erm male whatever the fuck his name is idk the WHORE sorry he's not maybe? Maybe he is actually idk it's male reader around those sluts 😠😠/HJ....) who usually kept his hybrid features hidden for god knows what reason because it's him??? He's just?? He's a little silly, but like "omg a human on the team grrr!!!" Is reaction from almost everyone until they warm up to him later and then he's just revealed as a moth hybrid :3 moth man, he squeaks when angry because moths can squeak and that's very interesting to me :3 and he just itty bitty plush like and plush size and shorter than them, but yeah they angry thinking he human, get close to the "human", they wake up early one morning, see the man they thought was human, but is a moth hybrid, standing in the kitchen, deadass staring into the kitchens light for god knows how long he was standing there, antennas just out as he's focused on the light, not even noticing them standing beside him, he's just staring at the light until someone turns that shit off and then he's just back like " ! " "When did you wake up???" Like .

PLLEAAAASEEEEEE PLEAAASEEEEEEEEE PPPLLLLEEAAAASEEEEEEEE I BEG FOR HIM TO HAVE SOME CHUB TO HIM I BEG FOR MOTH MALE READER WHO USES HE HIM PRONOUNS FOR THE HYBRID/MONSTER AU TF141 LEMSJWJSJS I want chubby male ones to be loved☹️

Have a wonderful day yahhhh‼️‼️‼️

RRAAAAHHH MY FIRST ASK!!!! (Omfg tysm u don’t know how happy this makes me :3 )

Lemme get this straight.. a moth hybrid! male reader x Werewolf! Johnny (Soap) Mactavish?? Ill see what i can do!!

(Inspired by the Monster AU by whisperrwarm on X, when I say INSPIRED I mean, not everything is the same!)

Characters:

John (Soap) Mactavish: A Werewolf

Simon (Ghost) Riley: A Wendigo

Captain John Price: A Dragon

Male Y/N: A Moth

Just a cute wee pudgy lad :3

Tw: Swearing, suggestive content, Male x Male

Since Anonymous wanted M! Y/N to be pudgy, I imagine that he would have the shape of something like this:

Moth Dust

(A Johnny (Soap) Mactavish x Male! Reader fic)

You, LN, FN, (last name, first name), who would have thought out of all possibilities of hybrids, you would be a moth. Not that its a bad thing, it was just rather annoying though.. you were picked on constantly because of it, your hight, your looks, and what made you insecure the most, your weight.

Not that you were huge, but you were fun sized, the perfect love handles, and the loveliest thing of all, your thick thighs. Aye, its like they say, ‘Thick Thighs Save Lives!’ You tend to hide your moth features though, fearing that a hybrid with predatoristic features might harm you.

I mean.. c’mon, you were a moth and there were damned stronger mutants out there.. its like the food chain with normal animals, and as embarrassing as it was, many things ate bugs. And what are you a hybrid of? A bug. Well.. a domesticated silk moth to be more specific, but still!

Being a moth you were fluffy and small, and well.. adorable. But you never though of yourself as that short.. until you joined the military that is-

“Bloody fucking christ! How fucking big does a man need to be here?!?” You thought to yourself once you actually saw how large the men in Task Force 141 where. There was one in particular who stood intimidated you from his height, Simon Riley, better known here as Ghost, and he stood a strong 6’2”!!

He could easily fucking squish you like the bug you are if he wanted! You were intimidated by the other men slightly, I mean, c’mon! Your captain is a fuckin Dragon for Christ sake!

But wow… boy were they lookers though- there was one in particular who stood out to you the most, he looked like a dog hybrid, but that didn’t seem right for some reason? What stood out to you the most was those elegant.. enticing.. wonderful blue eyes… wait. What the hell? Were you staring? Oh shit, didn’t anyone see you staring at him?

Your mind was racing at the thought of being caught staring. “Did anyone see that? Shit- did he see that?!” You thought to yourself, more like mentally screamed at yourself, but still..

(Not finished, currently busy, will finish soon!)

[lemony-snickers]

hey lemony!! woke up thinking about sick!kakashi. i partially think he would be the type to ignore sickness until it cannot be ignored, and i think when he gets sick, before he gets into a relationship, he would be very good and quick about getting himself better just so he could be sent on missions quicker or whatever. however, after he gets into a relationship, i think he would be the whiny, needy type that drags out his sickness/symptoms just so he could soak up all the care and affection he could get from his partner :)

sorry lemony! one more thing to add to sick kakashi anon is that his dogs would know if he was faking it because they could smell the sickness, and by day 4, pakkun would probably say “you don’t smell sick anymore” while the partner is out of the room and kakashi would just glare at him

hey, anon. i think this is very cute & you are absolutely right.

Kakashi glares at Pakkun as the dog huffs again, already wrinkled brow furrowing. "It's unfair to keep expecting them to wait on you hand and foot."

He sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow--which you had perfectly placed and fluffed and put a new case on while he bathed that morning. "I know, I know. Just a little longer, okay?"

The pug growled lowly, but said nothing else.

And Kakashi did, in fact, know Pakkun was right. That allowing you to continue caring for him--pampering him, even--was perhaps a little selfish.

There was a time Kakash would never in a thousand years have considered feigning illness. In fact, when he was younger, he was much more likely to feign not being sick even as a fever raged within him, turning his skin pink and sticky, cool to the touch, as ever muscle in his body screamed for respite.

"I'm fine," he would grumble to Tenzo or Yugao, swatting away their hands when they tried to feel his forehead or neck to confirm their suspicions.

But that was a long time ago. That was before he met you.

He never swatted your hands away. Rather, he yearned for your touch the moment it ceased, sometimes whining faintly so you would brush your fingers through his hair, over his cheek soothingly.

Kakashi did not think he had ever craved anything as much as your touch. Not his favorite foods or books. Not even the bleak release of death during his darkest moments.

When you were near him, the awful thoughts quieted, the weight of the world--of his loved ones' sacrifices--lifted just a fraction. He felt like he could breathe easier as long as the two of you shared the same air.

The first time he'd fallen ill, there had been no pretense. He'd simply returned from a mission in rain-soked Amegakure with wet feet and an awful, racking cough. He hadn't even thought to tell you, to take himself off the active duty roster to recuperate.

But then you'd showed up at his door, expression immediately concerned as you reached out to press your wrist against his forehead, frowning when you felt the heat radiating from his skin.

"Are you sick?" you'd asked. He'd shrugged even as his teeth chattered. And then, to Kakashi's utter surprise, you'd dedicated yourself wholly to taking care of him. You made him miso soup, wrapped him in warm, fuzzy blankets you brought from your own house (Kakashi had no such thing in his apartment). You put soothing balm under his nose, made him tea steeped with echinacea. You stopped at the Hokage Tower to let the chunin at the mission desk know he needed to be put on sick leave.

It had all felt so natural, even as it was also foreign. Kakashi could not remember someone ever taking care of him in such a way, though he was sure there had been a time when Sakumo had done so--gingerly placing a warm cloth on his son's forehead between misssions. Kakashi wondered if his mother had ever done the same, when he was far too small to remember.

And it had felt good to be cared for. Fretted over. The warmth of his fever was nothing compared to that which bloomed in his chest as you bustled around his apartment, tidying up because he "needed to rest." You were so naturally good at taking care of others--taking care of him. It made him all the more grateful to have found you.

So the next time he was sick, he didn't think anyone could blame him for milking it just a little. Forcing his coughs to sound a bit raspier, looking up at you with pleading, pathetic eyes when he told you he was cold and could you come here and warm him up.

Now, though, Pakkun had clearly caught on to his game. Kakashi was grateful his summons had at least waited until you left the room to thoroughly sniff his cheek and then gruffly accuse him, "You're not sick anymore, what are you doing?"

What was he doing? Surely you had more important things to attend to than warming a bowl of soup for him and sitting beside him on the bed as he feebly ate.

But wasn't he allowed to be just a little selfish? All those years pushing through the pain of injury and illness... didn't he deserve a little extra care now that he'd found the person who made him feel worthy of it?

You returned to the room with a steaming bowl in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Kakashi recognized the telltale fizz of one of the electrolyte tabs you sometimes dropped in "to make sure you're well-hydrated."

They turned his urine a strange shade of pale orange, but Kakashi didn't have the heart to tell you they were probably just overpriced B-vitamins.

"He isn't sick anymore."

Betrayal, white hot and instantaneous, lanced through him. Kakashi's head whipped toward Pakkun who scratched at one ear with his hind paw, utterly unconcerned.

Kakashi expected you to frown, to chastize him for taking advantage of your goodness.

Instead, you chuckled, which grabbed both his and Pakkun's attention.

When he met your gaze, your smile was full of love Kakashi thought his fever might have returned full force with how warm he suddenly felt, basking in it.

"You think I don't know that?" you asked, and Kakashi felt his cheeks flare with new heat that had nothing to do with his cold. "I don't mind indulging him a little."

You crossed the room and set his lunch on the bedside table, perching on the edge of the bed as you leaned in to kiss his cheek. You combed your fingers through his hair, still smiling, as you added, "Besides, I know he'll make it up to me in other ways."

Pakkun grumbled something vaguely insulting as he hopped off the end of the bed and padded his way out of the room.

Kakashi didn't bother to ask him to repeat himself or chide him for his rudeness. Instead, knowing full well he was no longer sick and so he couldn't pass his illness to you, he pulled you into a sweet, lingering, grateful kiss.

You were right, he would certainly be making this up to you and more.

[genderqueerdykes]

Topical or Injectable Testosterone Comparison: Which is Best For You?

i've met a lot of people who are unsure of which route of HRT they'd like to take. there are a lot of pros and cons to each one, I figured I would lay out some information to try to make that decision a bit easier for folks, as someone who has used both.

both forms of testosterone are equally as effective, topical is not "weaker" than injectable, everyone's bodies processes these hormones differently and the effectiveness depends on how your body processes medications, and your dosage.

Topical Testosterone

Taken daily, or for some folks, every few days

Either comes in a bottle with a pump that dispenses measured doses, or will come in a month's worth of small packets or tubes.

Many insurance plans in the United States will not cover topical testosterone for transgender or intersex HRT purposes, and if it is covered, it often costs an exorbitant amount of money- well into the hundreds of dollars

Requires clean skin prior to and covering the skin with clothing after application and avoiding swimming and showering for several hours after application

Hands must be washed afterwards to prevent transmission of the hormone to other people in your environment

Has a strong smell due to the gel being alcohol based

Can cause burning sensation if it accidentally gets into sensitive areas such as mucous membranes, cuts, your eyes, etc.

Can cause skin irritation in some folks, though this is rare

Being an alcohol based gel, it is very flammable, so caution is needed to be practiced around flames until the gel has dried

Can be easy to miss doses if you have chronic fatigue and/or illness, memory problems, mental health issues, or a busy lifestyle

Injectable Testosterone

Usually taken once or twice a week, depending on your needs

Testosterone cypionate is almost always covered by insurance in places where transgender HRT is a part of your plan. It is extremely cheap if it is not covered for whatever reason, usually costing around $15 for a month's worth of vials and syringes, but this can vary wildly depending on your area

Requires needles, syringes, a sharps container (safe container to dispose needles into), alcohol prep pads or isopropyl alcohol or other strong sterilizing agent for the injection site, bandages for applying to the site afterwards, and optionally gloves, but washing your hands prior to injecting works as well

If doing your own injections, you have to learn how to measure your dose accurately, and how to hold the needle at the angle most appropriate for your injections, as well as learning about if you need to do subcutaneous or intramuscular injections

Despite the amount of items required, injections are very quick and can be done and forgotten about until your next injection date- there is no daily maintenance for injections

You must switch up your injection spots every time you inject as to avoid damaging muscle and skin tissue

Injections can be done by endocrinologists and prescribers if you do not feel comfortable doing them yourself

It is possible for your skin to react to, or for you to be allergic to the injecting needles. This is rare, and can be addressed with your prescriber and/or an allergist

Testosterone cypionate will crystalize in cold temperatures. It will change in appearance and consistency, but can be returned to normal by placing the vial into warm water for a while and/or by shaking the vial for a while

this is not meant to be a comprehensive guide, but rather some observations ihave made in my 8 years of being on testosterone HRT. hope this is helpful, we will add anything else we can think of. good luck figuring out what's right for you in your journey

[durrtydawg]

hey gorl! idk how cereal you were about headcanons, but can i request something domestic? like what the uncharted boys are like when they're at home and not treasure hunting for once? (can be as clean/dirty as you like hehe)

Hey lovely! Thanks for waiting for so long, and sorry if this isn't what you had in mind, but I've spewed some domestic Sam headcanons into my notes that I think about too often. A lot of them are very random, so if you want something more specific, please let me know 👹❤️

I started writing Nate, too, but honestly, if you want some good Nate hcs, you should ask @nathandrakeisabottom bc she's gonna have them done to a T.

[Masterlist]

Without further ado,

Domestic Sam Drake Headcanons...

Sam likes to rotate his 'at-home wardrobe' between two pairs of ill-fitting jeans, raglan shirts, the odd henley, and a fuck tonne of minimalistic graphic tees with references that he has no clue about. Boots are abandoned for trainers. (- sneakers, for those who are anglo-challenged)

If it's cold-cold, he adds his trusty sherpa-plaid shirt combo.

If it's hot-hot, he opts for his slutty vests and perhaps some track shorts if he's feeling... frisky.

And fucking baseball caps. He wears them lots, and he wears them well. I do NOT make the rules.

Whenever the weather is good, Sam is outside working on his bike. Whether he's cleaning it, fixing it up, or just revving it for the attention, he'll be out there in aforementioned slutty little vest, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, tinkering away because he can't sit still for long at all.

When the weather isn't good, he's miserable. As soon as Winter rolls around, he contracts at least one cold a month, and whilst he gets surprisingly over dramatic about it, he also refuses to take any meds for it. Stubborn man.

Untidy- but never unclean. Being stuck in that grotty old prison for so long, it's clear that Sam wants nothing to remind him of his disgusting cell. He always cleans up after himself in terms of dirt and grime, BUT he's also become a bit of a hoarder, which also makes wherever he lives constantly untidy. Books, ugly little ornaments, and also clothes that he buys and never wears are scattered all over the place.

The idea of owning his own stuff remains seemingly overwhelming; he grows attached to whatever he gets his hands on because he's lived for so long without things of his own.

Continuing down the cleanliness route, Sam takes the longest showers you could imagine. The warmth? The privacy? They'll forever be luxuries to him that he wants to take complete advantage of.

Uses some sort of 250 in 1 body wash/shampoo/car brake fluid concoction, and is in complete refusal of the fact that he needs anything else... though once or twice his intrigue and thieving nature have gotten the better of him, and he's left the bathroom with an oddly feminine aroma that's dangerously similar to the scent of whatever it is his partner's using. Not that he'd ever use a girl's body wash.

Sam whistles around the house. A lot. Also sings quietly to himself throughout the day. He keeps it hushed, mostly, but for some reason, he thinks the shower is soundproof. Lucky for any cohabitors, he's got a pretty good set of pipes on him, and it's actually really sweet. ('We Didn't Start the Fire' by Billy Joel is one of his go-to's. He definitely brags about his ability to remember all of the words.)

He's a dab hand in the kitchen. Well. Sometimes. Sam's got a selection of about three dishes that he makes to Michelin star standard. Other than that he's fucking useless, which can be frustrating since he eats like an animal. Guys of his stature need fuel!

Many times has a frozen lasagna or a teaspoon that's been absentmindedly left in the microwave ended up almost burning the house down. Though, his mind is always in about six places at once, so you can't really blame the poor guy.

But those that he's good at? He's really good at. It's not often that he can be found in the kitchen with a tea towel strewn over his shoulder, four different pots and pans bubbling away on the stove, whilst he bops his head along to a crackly radio station, but when he is? You know you're in for a treat.

He can't scramble eggs for shit (he does it in the microwave and insists it tastes fine💀 it does not.) but can poach 'em good. Expect eggs benedict in the morning, or banana pancakes if you've got a sweet tooth. Not the type to eat brekkie? You are now.

Speaking of breakfast in bed:

Morning 👏 sex. Like... more than any other time of day. Sam wakes up with insane levels of energy in the morning, and the first two hours of his day are more productive than the other twenty-two combined. So if he's not out for a morning jog (eugh.) or busy finding out what recipe he wants to try out for breakfast, he's got it in you. End of. Perhaps you used to grumble about the time... but he's got a thing for your early-am laziness, and you've probably woken up with his head between your thighs more times than you can count. I suppose that feeds in to the somnoph1lia he's most definitely privy to.

That, of course, is not to say that he's exclusively into morning sex.

Is verrrry cuddly with partners when they're visiting or living together. Sam craves touch, so even if it's not a super committed relationship, lingering shoulder squeezes, resting his chin on your head whilst his arms are wrapped around your middle, and gentle strokes to the small of the back are staples- half the time he doesn't even realise he's doing them.

Overall, he’s one handsy bastard, and at his cockiest will take any opportunity he can to smack, squeeze, and even bite your ass if it's convenient enough, offering you nothing but a complacent grin when you try to snap at him. Best you save your moaning for the bedroom. He knows you love it.

Hear me out. He has a weird fascination with teleshopping channels. Not because he wants to buy any of it. Moreso because he enjoys criticising some of the ridiculous stuff they try to flog on there. With a mouthful of cereal, he'll be mocking whatever poor sod has a slot to sell their item, calling you to come and watch in hopes that you find it just as ludicrous as he does.

With TV in general, he has a very stereotypical 'dad' stance on it. Does the whole "what's this crap you're watching? Don't you wanna do something more productive with your day?", only to be glued to the screen within minutes, asking about characters and plot alike.

Unfortunately, this also includes Hallmark Christmas movies.

Sam loves loves LOVES 90's-00's british sitcoms (And no, that's not self-indulgent). I genuinely believe he would binge watch Father Ted and Peep Show happily, especially because he enjoys satire and absorbs the dry sense of humour like a happy sponge. He'd try to impress you with the accent too. Doesn't work.

Falls asleep on the sofa more than anywhere. Since he's often up at the crack of dawn, as soon as 5pm rolls around, he's yawning and 'resting his eyes'. That, and the fact that he finds it hard to get to sleep in bed unless he's totally fucked out. Something about being left alone with nothing but the view of the ceiling and his thoughts makes it difficult for him to switch off. Trauma, eh?

When he does sleep, though, he's precious. Definitely fidgets throughout the night, waking up all stiff because he's been in all sorts of weird positions. He doesn't snore... but he definitely mumbles in his sleep. And it's always nonsense.

Never plans a big groceries run. Sam's trips to the supermarket are solely made on an ad hoc basis, and every time he returns with something that definitely wasn't on the list, i.e. he'll go out to buy pasta but returns with a novelty kitchen timer shaped like a lemon, and a new wooden spoon because he doesn't like the turmeric stains on his current one.

Big porch dweller. Will idle away the hours smoking on his porch or balcony when he's exhausted all of his other options, and will draw little smiley faces on the railings with the burnt out end of the cigarette before throwing it away. Awh.

[heart2beom]

second lead syndrome

pairing: taehyun x gn!reader

genre: fluff, just tons of fluff

synopsis: taehyun, your neighbor, has been helping you out with beomgyu, the best friend you've been in love with for your entire life. when you finally score a date, albeit taehyuns plan working, you're in crisis.

because you start getting second thoughts.

warning: purposeful wrong tagging for more reach. sorry babes im greedy 😭 though i dont specify pronouns, this is more fem leaning!!

notes: i wrote this in only an hour, not the most quality work but i had to release something for my favorite man's birthday hello????!?! also was listening to this is what falling in love feels like by JVKE on repeat, if that helps with the reading experience. i have no idea if it does. lol as always, reblogging will help the algorithm pick this up so as a content creator, ill love you for it.

you were extremely fidgety as you looked at yourself in the mirror -- this was the fourth outfit you've changed into. you slightly chewed on your bottom lip, furrowing your brows together thinking...none of this felt real, that was one thing you were sure of. preparing to go on a date with beomgyu...it's like dying and actually walking up the stairs of heaven.

the man that was all your firsts yet, felt like a distant, unachievable dream. the man that makes you go to sleep with the biggest smile, and the man that makes you kick your feet, squealing into your pillow even after long graduating high school. he felt just like a celebrity crush. a celebrity crush, someone you'll never ever have the chance to date.

that is, until taehyun moved in next door. you heard rumors from the old ladies at the apartments' lobby that he was a genius, a young einstein if you will, graduating seoul university with top marks.

you don't know what, but something possessed you to go knock at his door's flat, pushing a welcome basket of bread in his arms, saying word for word, "teach me how to make a guy fall in love with me". of course, you managed to squeak out a please for politeness sake.

it was the built up desperation, you guessed looking back. but despite thinking highly of taehyun's mind, you never expected whatever voodoo steps he made up to actually work. sure, it took...what? like, months and twenty bucks every now and then, but it worked.

you turned away from your mirror, looking back at the man occupying your bed, cocking your head to the side.

"what? are you feeling like you're dreaming again?" he asks, mirroring your action. "want me to pinch you?"

you exhale, exhausted. "i need to change."

which taehyun sat up straight to, "again? i already told you, you look pretty."

you roll your eyes to that comment. maybe getting a man to help you prepare for a date wasn't the brightest idea you've had, though, you aren't particularly known for having bright ideas anyway.

"i need an honest opinion, but you just keep on saying oh you look good, oh you look pretty" you mock, deepening your voice to mimic taehyuns'. before he could retaliate, you add "and it's not helping, at all."

it was silent for a while, until he folded his arms,"you want me to give my honest opinion?" he asked. and you nod, frantically at that.

"brutally honest, hit me with the straight, cold facts." you say, preparing yourself by straightening your shoulders.

"well, for one" he starts, to which you take a deep breath at anticipation, "you'll never make it on time for your dream date. that's one fact."

you groan, walking in your stupidly long heels to sit on the edge of your bed, next to taehyun. "okay, well, that's a given at this point. give me something else."

"and you're incredibly, weirdly nervous for a movie date with your best friend. that's another fact." he had put his phone face down next to him, now with his legs crossed, as he looked out for your reaction.

"taehyun." you drawl, beyond annoyed.

"what?", he asked innocent, like he wasn't just taunting you. all you did was give him a death glare, which earned an airy laugh from him.

"alright, i'll be serious now, i promise." he said, scooching up to sit directly by your side now, his legs touching yours with how close he was.

"starting with your face— don't get mad, you asked for this." he warned with a raised finger, which made you nervously gulp. did you really look that bad? you nodded to reassure him to continue anyway—you weren't going to risk going to this date looking bad.

"your eyes; the glitter, though it helps pull your whole look together," he makes a hand gesture, your breath hitched in your throat, as you nodded for him to continue "it's dull when you compare it to your eyes."

you furrow your brows, incredibly puzzled. "what does that mean?"

"your eyes shine more" he said with a cheeky grin, your mouth left agape at his playfullness.

"glitter doesn't shine. you..you suck at flirting." you said hitting his shoulder, letting out an unbelievable scoff.

he fauxes hurt as he rubs his shoulder, "this isn't flirting, i'm being very honest right now!"

you roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "mhm"

he shrugs, "i'm not going to continue if you don't believe me."

"okay, okay. i believe you, continue kang."

"alright. so, your brows," you nod. "perfectly trimmed, which..." he leans closer to your face, his thumb grazing your eyebrows. you didn't expect the sudden closeness, so your breath was hitched, stuck right in your throat. "which is good. there's no little hairs in between, or surrounding them."

he moves away after what felt like a whole hour, in reality, was just a few seconds. only beomgyu ever got that close to you — that's your justification for your heart quickening at the proximity. you just got reminded of beomgyu, that was it.

"going well so far." you breathed out, finally being able to talk.

"yeah? told you you don't look bad." you narrowed your eyes. "taehyun. you're not doing this just to say i told you so are you? that's, like, cheating!"

taehyun sighed. "y/n, do you think i'm trying to sabotage you or something? i'm not. i'm not praying on your downfall, i'm being honest."

your previously furrowed eyebrows turned into pleading ones, filled with insecurity. "yeah?"

"yeah." you looked up to see his eyes. they always calmed your anxiousness, you found that the eyes are the doors of the soul saying couldn't have matched anyone more than it did taehyun, you knew everything just by looking at them. and this time, when you looked at them, it was almost overwhelming how they looked back at you with such softness — sincerity.

so overwhelming, your heart picked up at a faster speed, once again. what was up with you?

"okay, now, your lips," and again, his thumb. the one responsible to all of this. it was on your lips, going back and forth on the bottom one, then facing it to his eyes. he looked a bit taken back, kind of shocked.

"what?" you ask with your brows raised. he turns his thumb to you, with an amused smile spread on his face, "there's no red."

you let out an airy laugh, he was way too cute. "well, yeah, it's a no smudge matte lipstick. it's impossible to get off without makeup wipes."

"huh. then, that's good. you can kiss beomgyu without it being all messy." you nod slowly to that. "hey, on that note, refrain from giving me details about the kiss... if it happens."

you're quick to retaliate with a scoff. "it will happen, why won't it happen? it'll happen!"

he shakes his head, which earns an offended expression from you. "i'm just saying, you're the biggest coward i know."

"you're the biggest coward i know." you replied immaturely.

"i'm going to...i'm going to ignore that lame comeback and pretend it wasn't awful." he said, taking a look at his phone. "it's about to be ten...are you feeling less..insecure?"

you look at your heels, then back at him with a smile. "think so, yeah."

when you finally lock your door with keys, taehyun hovering over your back, you turn to him chirply. you're ready, you're ready to go out with beomgyu.

"so." you started, looking up at him, a large smile on your face. "thank you, taehyun. seriously. i know it was kind of weird at first, like you know, spending a lot of time with a stranger but to be completely honest—"

"it wasn't." he interrupted.

"huh?"

"it wasn't weird spending so much time with you."

"oh—well, uh" again, taehyun catches you off guard with his aloofness, making you stutter like an idiot, completely forgetting your monologue.

it didn't help that taehyun somehow was closer than you thought, way closer than the usual arm length. seriously, what was up with the proximity?

when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, it was again, so soft, waiting for you to say something. then, when taehyuns hand found its way tucking a strand behind your ear, you couldn't hear anything anymore. your heartbeat was magnified to your ears, despite seeing that his mouth was moving, saying something, you couldn't focus.

he waved a hand at your face, and you refocused again.

"think you should go now, love of your life's blowing up your phone."

"um—um yeah" you stuttered, waking up from your thoughts. "it's probably beomgyu" you muttered, smiling weakly.

"yeah," he chuckled a little, and god, was it so fucking cute. "thats why i said love of your life."

it was weird how you didn't catch that, you've always been referring to beomgyu as the love of your life, especially with taehyun.

you watched as he unlocked his door knob, looking back at you with his eyes twinkling a little under the dim hallway lights, "don't get nervous, you really do look pretty."

then he was gone, cruelly leaving you with one thought as you looked at the texts from the contact name, 'love of my life'.

you weren't ready. you weren't ready to go out with beomgyu. at all.

ending a/n: soooo how we feeling? cute? cute? readers so starstruck by taehyuns eyes and im just like..yup, same. me. this was originally apart of a very long fic i was working on, but that was scrapped, so..lol have this cute lil thing