#Four getting to be observant and a bit of a know-it-all <3

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

hii!! I love your hcs 💗💗

may I request naoto tachibana x fem!reader?

this has been rotting in my head for the longest time ever: so in the series, naoto said that his memory gets overwritten when a new timeline is created. so I was thinking imagine fem!reader who he loves, but every timeline she is always somewhere else, further away from him. so maybe after seeing the outcome of his sister's fate and discussing with takemichi when a new timeline is created, he also checks on fem!reader. one timeline she'd be living in another city, one timeline she'd not even remember him, and what if there's one where she is part of a criminal organization, tasked to kill naoto. what is the outcome gonna be? is she gonna be able to complete her task? or will she end up falling for him in the process?

THIS IS ALL I CAN THINK OF FOR WEEKS 😭😭 sorry it's quite long omg thank you and have a great day!! 💖💖

Ahh that actually sounds really cool! I kinda came up with this for it (it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger though)

You're always on his mind, everytime the timeline gets rewritten there are three things he does. 1. Check to see if his sister is alive 2. Find Takemichi and 3. Find you.

He knows he shouldn't be focused on you, that he should concentrate on saving his sister. But he can't help it, you won't leave his mind. He loves you.

Of course Takemichi only encourages this, always telling him to go after you and find you. And so that's what he does in every timeline. 

In the first timeline that he can remember, you were his neighbour. It was funny how that had worked out, the two of you attending the same school as kids then living in the same building as each other as adults. He didn't really talk to you much but you were always so kind to him. Helping him out here and there, always smiling at him. 

The second timeline was the one that really changed things for him though. He wasn't expecting to find a ring on his finger or a wife waiting for him. He didn't know what to think at first but he fell hard and quickly for you, his wife. You were just so understanding and loving towards him, even when he was out late with Takemichi trying to figure things out. He liked your company before but now he loved you and of course he wanted to keep you. Something that he would end up aiming for in every timeline.

He isn't so lucky in the third timeline, the two of you were married again so of course you were also dragged along by Takemichi as "moral support" for seeing Hina. Which lead to all four of you being in the car, he had to run off for work but he thought you would be safe. He didn't think you.....                        you and Hina were chatting in the car and waiting for Takemichi when Akkun drove into the car. You were killed instantly from the collision, leaving Naoto to organise your funeral as well as his sister's. He swore he wouldn't let something like that happen again to you after that day. 

In the fourth timeline you weren't around at all, Naoto searched and searched but couldn't find you not anywhere. It wasn't until he was searching through some old stuff of his that he vaguely remembered you leaving to study and work abroad after finishing school. He hated that you weren't around but was also somewhat relieved. With him working with Kazutora and Chifuyu he was putting himself in a lot of danger, he didn't want you to be at risk too. He vowed to find you in the next timeline though, in the safer one. 

He was wrong though, this timeline wasn't safer and he didn't find you, you found him. He knew he would be a target after shooting Mikey but he wasn't expecting you to come after him. He's not sure how you got mixed up with Kisaki and Izana but it's clear you worked for them and had no idea who he was or once was to you. 

You'd been tailing him for weeks, following him around and observing him. Of course he'd noticed you immediately but said nothing. Instead he smiled at you each time your gazes met, the same way you had smiled at him in the very first timeline. You didn't smile back this time though, each time you would turn away or go back to pretending to just be a normal person who just so happened to be near him. 

Until that one evening, he was at home trying to finish off a report when he thought he heard something behind him. He was too slow to react though, you were immediately on top of him, restraining him and searching for hidden weapons. He only watched you, didn't even try to struggle against your tight grip. You pointed the gun at his head and he closed his eyes. You hesitated, something deep down telling you to not kill this guy. You didn't really know him, you'd just watched him a few weeks but you couldn't do it. Something was stopping you so the shot never rang out. When Naoto opened his eyes again you were gone, leaving his apartment as stealthily as you came in. 

He searched for you so hard after that but nothing, it's like you had disappeared. He didn't get to see you again there but you saw him one last time. After raiding the club with Koko and Inui you came out to see two bodies lying still on the floor. Closing the detectives eyes for him, you wondered why you were crying

[raycatzdraws]

Local insomniac and amnesiac accidentally scare the ever living daylights out of each other for completely different and very personal reasons.

I like the headcanon that the chain end up sharing and learning each other's songs! (Whether on purpose or by accident in the case of Legend here. It also ties into how Wild knows a bunch of their songs in totk!)

As usual, there's some extras under the read more!

I started coloring and then decided not to! Anyways- Pink Link Pink Link! Wind and Legend are crafting~ Wind's making what I know from camp as a pirate's rope bracelet >:) (though the actual name of the craft is kumihimo!)

[sttoru]

✸ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔: satoru unexpectedly comes back home to his family after being gone on a week long business trip. .

word count. 1.6k +

tags. girl dad!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, tiny bits of angst, overall sfw. reader gets called 'mama; pretty, sweetheart, baby'. satoru being a good husband and dad. your daughter is around 2-3 years old.

the apartment is silent, something you aren’t used to. normally, you would not catch a break from the loud voices ringing in your ears twenty-four seven. it’d either be your husband’s or your daughter’s. or if they’ve teamed up to bother you, it’d be both. it’s been so long since the three of you were together. way too long.

satoru has been gone on this business trip for a week now. seven days without him is seven days without your other half. you feel empty for some reason, even if you have your lovely child who makes every day much better. you just can’t help but worry about your husband.

“mama, look!” your toddler calls out from the living room. you blink and find yourself back in the kitchen, instead of deep within your thoughts. you faintly smile at the adorable voice of your daughter. it reminds you that you’re not alone.

you walk into the living space and look around before spotting the toddler at the window walls. she’s pulled the curtains to the side so she could admire the scenery outside of your cozy apartment. you watch her excitedly jump up and down—like she’s discovered a big treasure.

“it’s raining!” she continues, running towards you and dragging you along to watch the raindrops fall onto the windows. you nod at her observation and pick her up. you kiss her cheek and gaze into her blue eyes, “yeah, it is! you’re such a smart girl.”

“yaayy! smart!” she giggles and nuzzles her cheek against yours. you wholeheartedly accept the affection with a warm laugh of your own. you both watch as it pours—from your perspective, the people below you look like small creatures, running around to get inside. you get lost in thought again at the sight.

you can’t help but wonder if it’s also raining where Satoru is. you hope he’s taken shelter by now, even though you know his infinity could easily block any rain from wetting his clothes. you don’t know what it is, but you’re undoubtedly worried sick about your husband whenever he is gone for too long.

“mama!” your toddler gasps and tugs at your clothes. your dissociating ends for a second because of the child in your arms. you absentmindedly hum and pat her back, letting her know that you’ve heard her. you’re too focused on your own thoughts and the gloomy scenery outside to hear anything else.

“mama! mama!” your daughter continues. this time, she kicks her legs, desperately seeking your attention. you kiss her cheek in response, still zoning out. she squeaks and giggles due to something. when she squirms too much in your embrace, you figure that it’s because she wants to be let down.

you crouch and allow your daughter back on her feet. you’re finally able to notice how she keeps staring at something behind you. she’s grinning from ear to ear, her tiny hand still tugging at your sleeve like she’s trying to notify you of something. her other hand points at the space behind you, “papa!”

you freeze. you don’t know whether you should turn around or not. is she joking around with you?

you tilt your head, patting your daughter’s head tenderly, her white hair as soft and fluffy as the one who’s she called out to, “papa? papa’s working, baby.”

a familiar chuckle softly reverberates through the room. one so smooth and nice to the ears; one that you immediately recognize as your lover’s. you nearly snap your neck by how fast you turn your head.

it must be a dream, you conclude. you can’t believe what you’re seeing. there he is, the man you’ve been praying to see. he stands there so casually, as if he’s planned this all, his hands in his pockets.

your husband smiles at you and your daughter. he’s more than happy to be back home as well.

“well, hello to you too, sweetheart,” satoru snickers, seeing your shocked expression. you’re frozen in place and have no clue how to react. you did not expect to see him any time soon nor did you even hear him come back in the first place.

“papa!” your daughter can’t hold her excitement anymore and jumps into her father’s arms. satoru happily accepts her hug and peppers her face with kisses, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.

he twirls her around before squeezing her tiny body to his chest, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “mm. i missed you so much, baby girl. so so so much.”

you’re left somewhat processing the entire thing. you watch as satoru interacts with your toddler, tightly hugging her until she’s playfully whining about the lack of air.

he gives her a firm peck on her forehead and eventually puts her down, ruffling her hair affectionately, “you promised to be a good little girl for mama while i was gone, right?”

“yeah! been a rweaaally good girl f’ mama,” she nods repeatedly and clings onto satoru’s leg, awaiting praise for her good behavior. the white-haired man lets out a low chuckle and pinches her chubby cheeks in a gentle manner, “i knew my little girl wouldn’t let me down, heheh.”

you try to articulate some words, but nothing comes out. you take a step forward once you’re ready to face reality. your bottom lip trembles as the all the experienced emotions overwhelm you.

satoru instantly notices and smiles, opening his arms to welcome you into his embrace. which you immediately do.

“aww, there’s my pretty wife,” satoru sighs in relief, pleased to have the love of his life back in his strong arms. it’s like all the stress he’s felt throughout his seven-day long mission has evaporated. the same goes for the weary state his body was in before setting foot in your shared space.

the tears stream down your cheeks. they’re happy tears—tears of relief. all your worries are eliminated as your lover is now safe and sound before you.

satoru allows you to cry it out, not minding his clothes getting wet. your precious tears wetting his uniform is much better than the pouring rain doing so.

“it’s okay. ‘m here now,” satoru coos. he kisses the tip of your ear, moving down to your earlobe before showing your neck the same affection. his romantic touch is one you’ve missed greatly.

his big hands rub up and down your back, his lips trying to distract you from the tears. he moves to cup your face and leaves a warm kiss on your forehead, “you’re so precious. you did so well while i was gone, baby.”

satoru knows it must’ve been tough to take care of your daughter alone, whilst simultaneously taking care of all chores around the house. you’re the strongest woman he knows. his eyes sparkle with love as he wipes the tears from your cheeks, “there, there. .”

you sniff and cup satoru’s face this time, touching him like you’re making sure that he’s indeed real. You look around for any possible scratches but find none. luckily.

your voice is shaky as you speak up for the first time in a while, “welcome back, honey. i missed you s’much.”

your husband bites his lip at the sound of your voice cracks. your looks are captivating, even more when you’re so emotional. your beautiful eyes that glimmer with tears lure him in without fail. he’s longed for this. to see you and hold you again, without relying on some pictures on his phone.

he can’t hold back the urges within him any longer.

“c’mere,” satoru hisses, an unexpected switch in his tone. he suddenly pulls your body flush against his, his head lowering so his lips could crash down onto yours. your eyes widen at the abrupt gesture, but you quickly close them to fully enjoy the sensations. you hold him close to you while you return the kiss.

after a couple seconds, you both pull away, out of breath by the sudden moment of pure passion. the sorcerer grins and hugs you again. satoru rests his chin on top of your head and allows you to catch your breath, “i’m glad to be back.”

the soft pitter patter of the rain against the glass of the windows continues in the background. it’s a peaceful moment—two lovers reunited in their safe space. this is all you’ve wished for.

the sounds of wrappers falling to the floor and someone rummaging through plastic bags put an end to the sweet atmosphere between satoru and you. you both look to the side at the same time, only to find out that your daughter’s already been snacking on the goodies that satoru bought back from his trip.

the two of you burst out into laughter at the sight of the toddler munching on some chocolate, her cheeks as well as her hands being a complete mess. you were far too engrossed in your shared affection to notice that the little child has snuck off to inspect the bags on the coffee table.

“yummy!” your daughter exclaims once she notices that both her parents have caught her red handed. she reaches her arm out towards you, a half eaten piece of chocolate in her dirty little hand, “mama try.”

“no no, thank you. it’s all yours,” you giggle and shake your head. she’s too cute to scold and you can easily guess that satoru seems to agree with that statement. he walks over to the little girl and boops her nose lovingly.

“she’s got a sweet tooth jus’ like her papa, hm?” satoru comments light-heartedly. he grabs a nearby tissue and starts to clean the area around her cheeks, hoping to lessen the damage that’s already been done.

he truly missed this. the comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere.

“jus’ like papa!” your daughter innocently repeats after satoru as he cleans her up, causing the both of you to laugh again.

you’re happy to have your family back together.

[babypinkhearts]

know it’s for the better. - g. suguru

pairing: geto suguru + fem!reader, implied gojo satoru + fem!reader

summary: but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

warnings: canon au, angst (please forgive me ily all), mentions of violence, vulgar language, crude humor, time-jumps, cameos from shoko, megumi, yuji, nobara :3 comfort.

word count: 16.8k

a/n: this fic has been my baby for a month, i’ve poured so much love into it. treat her well <333 loosely inspired by the songs “first love/late spring” by mitski and “waiting room” by phoebe bridgers. there are so many references to so many things in this :) some quotes that i will think about forever. hope you enjoy.

october, 2006.

“nine out of ten times.”

it’s the first sentence you say out loud after minutes of silence, and you’re given a puzzled look. it kinda makes you want to laugh, the confusion etched across his face so foreign that it’s rather intriguing. he’s golden, even under all the darkness. the world makes space for fallen angels.

“nine of ten times… what?”

you resist the urge to thumb that furrow in his brows, the creases looking wrong upon his soft features. you only smile, snuggling closer to him. either the room is magically colder, or suguru forgot to close the window. you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“that i would choose you.”

you’re slurring your words almost, but more from the plain laziness in your movements rather than from genuine exhaustion. suguru hums, fingers tapping along your arm. it may be around four in the morning, but you couldn’t sleep.

the both of you hadn’t been able to for a while.

not since riko, not since toji, and definitely not since the new scar trailing across your stomach. shoko hadn’t been able to make the repair seamless.

you didn’t really mind. a lot of things seemed pointless nowadays.

“and the other time?”

your eyes linger on the strand of hair that always falls imperfectly on his face. a little crack in his flawlessness, though you’re not sure how grand that observation actually is.

you sit up a bit, propping your head with your arm as you look down at his pretty brown eyes. narrow, as they currently are, but still evidently alluring.

“well, i think it’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” you reason, voice soft. sometimes the dependency you had with suguru worried you. waves can crash, but the water itself remains. you think you’ll always be bound to him. his, forever. and yet you say, “i’d choose myself. just for a bit of sanity.”

it’s meant to be lighthearted, but the silence that falls afterwards kills any tone of playfulness that statement might have held.

you wish you had been a little more greedy.

•••

september, 2007.

emotions were complicated things.

it’s complicated to process the bullet you watch fly through a child’s head. it’s complicated to process your near-death experience. it’s complicated to process process the news of your classmate’s death. it’s complicated to process how it’s expected for you to go back to normal. it’s complicated to process everything.

so you curl up further, and hope that the news you’re hearing now is only a nightmare. because again, it’s too complicated to process.

“he killed them.”

and with the way satoru says it, repeats it, you think he wants you to sit up and hug him. be vulnerable, because god knows it’s been so long since you have.

but you lay there, back in the bed that you used to sometimes share with the criminal. the stillness makes satoru’s stomach drop, and he can’t will himself to say it again just for the chance of getting a reaction from you. but how much pain can a heart take? because it felt like yours might give out at any moment.

you didn’t sign up for this.

naively, no, you didn’t sign up for this.

“how many?”

you’re not sure why you ask. any number would have you spiraling, but with the silent refusal satoru gives by not replying immediately, you’re sure the answer would kill you alone.

he knows. he knows the exact number, he’d seen the report.

but he stares at your desolate form, eyes scanning the mess in your room. or, lack of. he hardly saw you get get out of bed these days if it weren’t for missions. the only sign of movement from you were the plushies that used to adorn your bed, now sprawled on the floor. for a second, he wonders if they’re gifted from who he thinks they’re from. but that thought feels stupid the moment he thinks of it, because - yes. of course they were. that man had loved you like his lungs naturally loved air. he loved freely, graceful in the way he cared. about satoru, about you. anyone, really.

so saturo makes a decision, hoping that it alleviates a little bit of the ache that he now concludes he will attempt to shield you from. because he cares about you too much to see you succumb to your own internal wounds. he wants you to be strong, like him. like suguru was. he can’t lose you too.

“i don’t know.” satoru lies, and he hopes that sentence can at least ease your heartbreak. but he feels it just as much. sorrowful, the kind of pain he’s been too familar with for a while now. he frowns when you don’t move.

obstruct from his view, your hands grip your sheets as tight as humanly possible, and you’re sure that you break skin through the fabric. you want to cry, but you can’t. not in front of satoru. not while he’s right there.

because this doesn’t affect you. you didn’t care.

so what? suguru had left you to the wolves. to fend for yourself. he became a monster. it didn’t bother you.

and you try to convince yourself to think the same when satoru sits beside you. you’re still thinking it as his shaking hand places itself on your side.

but you give up when he lays beside you, feeling his grief. and that pain only cements itself further as you begin to quietly sob months worth of misery.

you don’t feel much better after.

•••

march, 2008.

nine out of ten times, you’d like to be given the option to wipe your memory.

the other time would be the ability to travel to the past. it’s hard to decide which could be better, or arguably worse. maybe you could save haibara - tag along on that stupid mission and fight that stupid curse. switch places with him, even. the world seemed a lot duller without him in it. nanami spoke even less than he did before. you couldn’t keep up a conversation with him.

was it irrational to think that you might have been able to kill toji too? he just caught you on an off-day. you’re the reason he killed riko. it’s your fault that a child is dead.

there’s so much to be sad about, you’ve started to confuse those ugly feelings with plain normality. it’s natural to feel like this. you can’t really remember better days. they’ve blurred, causing twisted retroactive interference.

your rock had fled. any form of stability you had crumbled with the weight of your sorrow, and you’re forced to miserably pick yourself back up because you’ve never really been used to being alone. satoru wasn’t really around anymore, and shoko never left her studies. you certainly weren’t abandoned, but, unfortunately, you understood that grief couldn’t just halt time forever.

you’ve mourned so much, it feels silly to still have the same ache.

but how do you even move on? what’s the process like? because you’re almost certain you wouldn’t be able to survive it.

you’ve began to rid any remnants of him in your room; any proof of his existence. clothes, specifically, because they hold on to his scent, and you think if you stop for a moment to actually look at them you might break down again. you see memories in them. times where he’s worn the black t-shirts, or his white button-up. insignificant at first glance, but it’s your life you’re holding on to.

you stuff them into bags as quickly as you can.

if he’s not here, he can’t hurt you.

at least, not anymore than he already had.

you think it’s cruel that you’re stuck with a person’s presence even if they’re not physically there anymore. you’ll always associate this room with him. the world, at that.

and maybe it’s childish that your first response (after the sulking) is to trash his belongings, but you can’t think of anything more rational to do. the universe will move on without him. you can’t be left behind too.

when you’re finished, you’re not sure if the sight of five large trash bags and an emptier room makes you want to sob or hit something. it’s like life has lost it’s color - a new vision, duller than what was deemed humane. torturous.

yet you can’t bring yourself to pick them up and take them out of the room. you’re idle, staring at them like they’re just meant to disappear. you hadn’t realized how much your room consisted of just him.

trash, is what you’re unintentionally calling everything in them. but you don’t think that, never in a million years.

if it were up to you, you’d keep everything exactly where it was, and obliviously continue a cheery facade. but the thing about awareness is that after it’s discovered, you can’t really leave it. it’s branded into your mind, poking at your brain with a stick because it will annoyingly never have the intention to leave you alone.

it’ll sit with you in your darkest hours, and you’re unable to predict when light will shine through.

“dump them.”

you jump, defenses high on alert as you instinctively fall back. almost immediately after, you drop your hands, sighing.

shoko is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. you’re about to ask her how long she’s been standing there for, but her lingering gaze on your conflicting pile of issues answers your question before you have the chance to.

“i’ll do it for you.” she offers, finally looking up to meet your eyes. they’re a little sunken in, and she looks restless. it’s the first time you’ve seen her in nearly two weeks. she’s ditched the short hair since a few months back, the length sitting comfortably at her chest now.

you dumbly stare, non-respondent on purpose. you don’t want her to do that.

she seems to recognize the discomfort on your face at her suggestion, and you watch as her brows bitterly furrow, a small glare now directed at the bags. but you don’t get much emotion other than that.

“you can’t cling on to this shit. it’s unhealthy.” she softly explains, shaking her head. you wonder if that’s her medical opinion or genuine concern speaking, but you don’t ask her to elaborate. instead, you turn around, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

you kind of want her to leave.

“what’s healthy, then?” you retort, shrugging. it sounded a bit hypocritical coming from her. shoko had barricaded herself for the past six months, not even offering an ounce of genuine sympathy. in reality, you know it’s because she’s naturally avoidant. she didn’t crave support like you did. she didn’t need it like you had. because shoko has always been independent, never strung up on people. and you envy that more than anything.

“i don’t know.” she answers honestly, pursing her lips. but with one look around your room, and she’s certain it wasn’t this.

hesitantly, lets herself inside, eyes scanning the bareness. if it were any other day, she’d see suguru at your desk, or on your bed. he’d wave, and you would greet her with open arms. everyone knew the two of you were nearly inseparable (if it weren’t for satoru). the room always had a pleasant atmosphere when the two of you were in it. it feels cold and grim now, though. shoko has to fight a shiver.

you observe her, waiting for a joke or two. you’re nearly hoping, because any form of comedic relief had begun to be your craving. you needed an escape from all of this.

but instead, she turns back to you and wordlessly sits beside your tense form. it’s quiet for a bit.

there’s a charm that shines on the top of your desk, catching her eye. it dangles among other souvenirs, and shoko has to avert her eyes when she realizes that they’re all gifts from a certain deceased underclassman.

everything about this room feels like a graveyard.

“satoru comes back today.” shoko suddenly says, letting the first thing she can think of be verbalized. her eyes stay on the wooden floor this time. “he’s been in kyoto for a couple of days.”

you hum, nodding. you didn’t know.

if shoko kept her distance, then it was like satoru had completely faded. you couldn’t even remember the last time he had texted you.

then again, you weren’t sure if you’d even respond.

“i was thinking we could eat dinner together… when he gets back.”

your head perks up. barely.

that sounded familiar. mostly because it had been a routine up until recently. never verbally established, but it was natural for you and shoko to be accompanied by two towering sorcerers as you ate whatever satoru had decided on for the day. he was a picky eater. there’s a bitter taste on your tongue as you realize you’d be missing a member now.

“we can.” you nod, awkwardly kicking your feet back and forth. silence again.

you can feel shoko’s annoyance. how she’s trying to get you to talk, but you’re stupidly stubborn and refuse to. however, she knows you a little too well, and plays the waiting game. because she knows you’re weak when it comes to your heart, and weaker when it comes to the people you love. her included.

it’s not a relief when you finally break. if anything, it’s painful to hear, to watch. and though it’s only one question, it’s so complicated that it feels like you’ve asked her how the universe itself was created. simultaneously, it’s equally as simplistic.

it doesn’t even sound sad. it’s hollow, void of any distinct emotion. you’re staring at the wall.

“shoko…” you don’t pay attention to how she stills and watches you intently. you’re oblivious to the frown on her face, how she leans in just a little closer. and the widening of her eyes as you finish speaking. “how are you… okay?”

you feel particularly pathetic. shoko was so strong. satoru was the strongest. and yet here you were, more fragile than ever. on an alter, you’re a mere viewer from below. simply watching perched gods, basking in all their glory. the difference always evident, never comparable.

and yet shoko stares for a little, dumbfounded.

no, absolutely no one was ‘okay.’ the world was crumbling in front of everyone’s eyes. but you’ve always been a reminiscent person, she supposes. you search for familiarity. it’s harder for you to let go.

“did i tell you that?” she asks, more rhetorically than anything. there’s a teasing tone that her voice holds, but it does little to rid the tension of your question. you slowly shake your head.

“then how do you know that’s true?”

you shrug, fiddling with your fingers. “i don’t know.”

you want to tell her that your thoughts are purely based on toxic comparisons to yourself, but the air feels a little thick already, so you don’t.

“c’mere.”

there is no protest made when she wraps her arms around you, and forces you to fall into your bed with her. the pillows under your heads dip, and you’re enveloped in the softness of your blankets. shoko’s warm, and if you closed your eyes you might mistaken her hold to be like a mother’s affection. evident adoration, just by the touch. you’re derived and soak it up as much as you can, leaning into her.

it reminds you of late nights where you’d have sleepovers and gossip until the sun came up. too tired to train the next day, yaga ordering laps regardless of your visible fatigue. and you’d run with gleeful smiles, energy lifting as you were side-by-side again. an unexplainable friendship one could never truly describe with words, just pure thoughts. it’s sickeningly nostalgic, because you think about the fact that it really had not been that long ago. how quickly things change.

shoko nuzzles her face into your hair affectionately and sighs. she squeezes you tightly. declarative - ‘i’m right here.’ never enough to make up for the lost time and avoidance, but enough for now. because shoko didn’t act like this normally, and for you to see her in such a state meant more than just any regular apology.

“i think you know how to love better than any of us.” she admits, and that sentence alone has you curling a little more into her, your chest suddenly feeling tight. she leans in, and her lips form into a sorrowful smile as she observes you. full of pure understanding. again, a connection that could not be made with words. it feels a little spiritual. she brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face. “that’s why you find it all so painful.”

hesitantly, you offer a sad smile, her words all bittersweet. it makes you laugh a little distastefully, the reality of them hitting you at once. “well, that’s not fair.”

“it’s not.” shoko agrees, nodding. “but it’s a lovely thing.”

you make a face. recently, it’s only brought you suffering. the good bits don’t seem as worth it - as ‘lovely’ as she describes.

you pause, contemplating for a little. and your voice is affirmative, like you’ve never been more sure in your life. you kinda sound like a naive child.

“i don’t want it. take my feelings. i don’t like them.”

it’s true. it’s the biggest truth you’ve ever told with the biggest sincerity. and you know it’s not possible, that you’re stuck like this forever. a soft, easygoing heart that beats for everyone around it. your words make shoko snort - a real genuine laugh. you giggle through watery eyes.

“the world sucks.”

this time, it is a pitying smile that shoko gives you. lop-sided, and hesitant. she feels bad.

her arms leave you, and she opts to instead lay facing you, faces mere inches from one another. you’re both laying on your cheeks, against folded hands. shoko taps your nose.

“you know what i think?”

you hum, sniffing a little as you try to focus on the small amount freckles across her face instead of the overwhelming urge to let some tears fall. it works, for the most part. you count twenty.

“i think the world gives strong feelings to strong people.”

you smile at that.

shoko was something else.

“i’m pretty fucking strong then, aren’t i?” you mumble, tired eyes blinking as you sigh. shoko’s eyes crinkle as she returns the fondness, a hand resting on your cheek.

“definitely.”

and you can only hope she’s right.

there’s nothing that interrupts those sweet moments of tranquillity. where you can act like everything is just a little better, because in all honesty, it was. shoko’s good at making you feel like that.

if you really thought hard enough, this could be just another regular day. you want it to be.

you feel shoko’s finger poke your chest, and she gives you a pointed look. it’s like she could read your mind - subconsciously, as if she had the ability of a third eye.

“it gets easier. every day it gets a little easier. but you gotta do it every day — that’s the hard part.”

she leaves it at that.

you lay together, appreciating each other’s mere presence. and it feels nice. support, like you craved, but words even more. you aren’t able to formulate how much you adore her, but actions speak louder than words, so you shuffle just a tiny bit closer.

you’re not sure how much time passes by.

when shoko stands up, she rids you of her warmth, leaving the cocoon of wonder and comfort she’d so gracefully created for you. yet you feel fine, that isolating shiver now replaced with content. you think you feel a little lighter too.

“be outside by seven. if it’s up to me, we’ll all get sushi. no promises though.”

she’s back to being more standoffish, but still your same shoko. you nod appreciatively, the thankfulness worth the weight of a million tons. your eyes follow her as she walks across the room.

the door shuts, and you’re left alone again.

you can feel your heart beat a little faster, the realization of your commitment to the later plans finally dawning upon you. it would be the first real reunion since then. maybe a chance to talk things out. be levelheaded, get some communal closure.

or, maybe you’d be able to ignore the past and focus on the present. just act like friends eating lunch. because that’s all it was, wasn’t it?

begrudgingly, you force yourself to stand, too aware of the fact that your habits of wasting time in bed have far exceeded a reasonable amount over the past few months. it was time to get better, be better.

your hands grab the first bag.

it’s heavy, as you imagine all the other ones are. but you suppose if you don’t think about what’s in them, it’ll make the process a lot smoother.

you’re nearing the door when you stop.

it’s a small paper, it’s yellow exterior almost blending in with the sunlight escaping through the windows. you inch closer.

and it’s pathetic that the sight of his handwriting on a sticky-note makes you lose your breath. shameful, because how are inanimate objects this damaging?

it’s hung above your desk. by haibara’s gifts, and by notebooks you never really used in this academically-lackluster school.

you stare at it for a while, hand resting over your forehead as you take in every minuscule detail. you let go of the bag.

it’s the last note suguru had ever left you, made a few weeks before his disappearance. before everything went downhill. little poetic phrases that would embed themselves in your mind until death. you’re afraid to look.

it’s neatly written, displayed in purple ink. doodles of clouds and flowers surround the words. he had a habit of leaving them around. you suppose you never caught this one.

there’s a little heart next to his signature, encapsulating just a memory of lost devotion.

‘how strange to dream of you, even when i am awake.’

your hand crumbles the note in a second.

the paper is evidently weak, and when you open your hand back up, the words are still clearly there, haunting you. and you know you don’t have the heart to throw it away. or, realistically - throw anything away.

you fold the note gently, and leave it on your desk. your body yearns to leave, to escape the suffocation of what suddenly felt like walls that were caving in. you slam the door on your way out, bags and all left behind.

you’d definitely prefer to wipe your memory.

•••

april, 2005.

“you’re so annoying.”

satoru grins, standing proudly as you repeatedly attempt to hit him on the head, your touch stopped by his infinity. he’d only recently learned how to control it decently - claiming that he needed to because you had a bad habit of using him as your punching bag.

“you know what though? this is a good thing.” you muse, arms crossing as you finally give up. satoru’s head tilts, and you raise a brow. “no one wants to touch you anyways.”

there’s a dramatic pout that immediately finds itself on his face, and he whines from instinct, letting his guard down for a moment to shove you. you slap his arm before he has a chance to react.

“she’s right.” suguru nods affirmatively, earning a gasp from the white-haired male, and suddenly, suguru is being shoved too. you giggle, briefly making eye contact with him. it’s a little too quick for your preference, but the stolen glance has you holding your breath for a moment.

it’s exhilarating.

suguru is beautiful in a way that is hard to describe. but it’s not from a loss of words; you can speak endlessly about him. he’s everything a person could dream of and more. but it’s little gestures that truly draw you to him. how it seems like he always lingers, attentive and patient no matter what boulders you seem to throw at him. he’ll carry that weight on his shoulders easily, and with the most effortless smile. it’s a gentleness that you weren’t even sure was possible before you met him. he defies all expectations, all normalities.

“oh, i forgot to ask-“ satoru turns to you, raising his brows. sometimes his glasses bothered you. his eyes were freakish, yes, but you also had a conflicting urge to always look at them. “how’d your mission go yesterday?”

you cringe, involuntarily stiffening as you replay the events in your head.

“stupid semi-first grade. i let my guard down for a second and it almost clawed me.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. you fail to notice suguru’s eyes widen. “but we exorcised it right after. i swear i saw nanami shit himself.”

there’s a stark difference in reactions from both boys. while satoru snickers, suguru stays quiet. white and black.

“glad you’re still with us.” satoru beams, ruffling your hair before you have a chance to swat his hand away. “right, suguru?”

all attention flocks towards him, and you and satoru patiently await his response. he’s looking off to the side.

he feels a little childish.

there’s an uncomfortable pit in suguru’s stomach that he can’t shake off, and he swallows thickly, nodding with a dismissive cough. “yeah, glad it went well.”

obliviously, you flash him a thankful smile.

it makes him feel the tiniest bit better.

he wished yaga would pair you two together, or even put you with satoru. an actual backup - not someone below your skill level. haibara and nanami weren’t comparable; they were still new to jujustu. younger, less experienced. he holds a little resentment towards your abilities, and while he knows you’re never sent on missions that are tougher than you can handle, he always has an inkling of worry that lingers uncomfortably. he hates not being around you - not knowing if you’re okay. and he knows you’re a reckless fighter. you brush off the mention of critical injuries and move on, completely unbothered. the burden of stress came so easily when he was around you and satoru.

“you have another one tomorrow, right?”

you hum, nodding as you fiddle with the end of your uniform, sighing softly. “it’s across town i think. not sure who’s coming with me yet - maybe it’ll be shoko if i beg hard enough.”

suguru has to fight a wince. also not an ideal companion. shoko didn’t specialize in combat.

she’d only be actual help if you were wounded, and -

“why not me or satoru?”

he speaks before he thinks, and iternally, he punches himself in the face. he can see satoru stop moving in his peripheral vision. he thinks he sees a smirk. coy, but no words come out.

scoffing, you deadpan. “where’s the practice in that? you guys will kill it before i even get a chance to see it.”

and that’s true, because it’s happened dozens of times before. show-offs.

“we can get kikufuku after!” satoru exclaims, completely disregarding you as you begin to protest rather loudly. “i’ve been craving it. i haven’t had it since last week!”

“wait longer.” you sneer, glaring at him. “i rather go alone.”

now that, suguru would verbally be clearly against, without any hint of shame.

“boo.” satoru deflates, rolling his eyes at you. “that won’t even happen.”

it wouldn’t. you hadn’t earned that trust yet - the absolute certainty that you’d survive if you did a mission alone.

suguru’s glad.

“not yet.” you chirp, and the hopeful smile on your face doesn’t help anything. “but soon enough.”

there’s that unwavering aura you always hold that makes suguru feel a little sick. it’s determination, stubbornness, that follows you and keeps you whole. when you talk like that, words void of any doubt, he knows you mean it. and you’ll accomplish it, because your will for achievement is stronger than your rationality.

but he has you now, right in front of him, so he’ll ease himself of the worry. for now.

“in a million years.” satoru remarks, sticking his tongue out at you, not even bothering to look your way as you hold up a rather unpleasant finger in his direction. playful banter was regular between you two; you fed off of each other’s energy. suguru seemed to be the mediator.

an observer, with eyes particularly always lingering on one certain person.

•••

spring has flowers blossoming again, and you feel inclined to stay out for as long as possible. the confinements of your dorm feels like an obstacle, and it’d be a waste to miss out on the beauty that winter’s absence welcomed.

it’s perfect weather.

the cursed weapon in your hand had begun to feel rather light, your arm adapting to the overpowering weight. you disliked close-range combat, but you were being sent on tougher missions now, so there was no room for complaints. your abilities needed to strengthen.

and it’s frustrating, really. to have to constantly forgo complete confidence and figure out where you’re weakest; you could easily make a list with areas of needed improvement. a lot of your classmates seemed to lack that issue. you suppose what’s worse is that you’re completely aware it wasn’t a competition - but you had convinced yourself that at the least, you needed to stay on their level.

even if that meant working ten times harder, even if that meant exerting yourself past a reasonable amount.

but this routine has gotten you this far, and, sincerely, it hadn’t been too much of a problem to keep up with.

in fact, you could probably do a little more.

“you shouldn’t train so much, you’ll strain yourself.”

your stance falters, though you easily recover within the same second. maybe a little too late, but you tried not to be nit-picky. he was naturally quiet.

“i gotta keep up with everyone somehow.” you quickly grin, trying to calm the visible pants of your labored breathing. it’s futile, and you momentarily turn away, as if embarrassed to look anything but perfectly composed. to look less than him - or anyone, really.

your back is towards him.

suguru can read you perfectly. it’s with ease that’s almost completely overbearing, and some part of him believes that he’s only been put on earth to watch out for you. like it knows that you aren’t the kindest when it comes to yourself.

it’s so natural that he supposes it might be his true purpose.

you only hear him hum from behind you, and suddenly there’s a weight pushing down on your raised weapon, ushering it towards the floor. gentle fingers graze against yours, and you let him grab it from you, albeit with some hesitation. he places it on the floor.

“let’s take a break, yeah?”

he doesn’t even need to coerce you, you’d follow him blindly if he asked. you always do.

and he’s leading you, knowing you’re behind him without having the urge to look back and check. exhaustion lingers, but you’re too entranced by him to focus on the sore ache of your limbs. he’s graceful as he walks.

“we trained this morning.”

you freeze momentarily, looking off to the side with a shrug. it’s not that he sounds hostile - it’s just a bit more monotone than normal. “practice makes perfect.”

suguru makes a noise of acknowledgment, but it sounds a bit absentminded and dull, lacking any understanding. like a huff of annoyance.

“right.”

he shouldn’t be this bitter, this cold, when speaking to you. it’s rough against his tongue, and his entire body, mind and all, is actively telling him to stop. emotions are ugly things, though. it makes people less rational; less aware - say things they may regret.

suguru slows his steps, up until you’re beside him, where you should be. and by a glance at you, he knows he’s gotten too uncharacteristically rigid. you’re looking at him, confusion clouding your head. concern, actually. he sees it now.

“did i do something wrong?”

the meekness in your voice, haunted with worry, clears his senses in a millisecond. his eyes widen. panicked, he feverishly shakes his head.

“no — no. of course not.”

he sees you relax a bit, but you’re still looking questionably at him. your head tilts. “then?”

suguru sighs, swallowing thickly as he stops walking. it’s an enchanting sight, grassy fields just a little off main campus. you see a few flowers.

you follow after him as he sits, greenery cushioning your bodies as you settle. suguru picks at the weeds, his eyes on the floor. he speaks quiet, voice among the gentle breeze as his hair flows in waves. you have the urge to remove his hair-tie and see it fully.

“i just worry about you.”

you don’t even attempt to hide the slight flustered smile that finds itself on your face, body feeling overwhelmingly warm. he’s avoiding eye contact for once. l

it’d be a lie if you claimed you didn’t notice the tension - the smiles, the laughs, the soft-spoken volume of his pure voice. so silky smooth it’d rid you of all your worries in a second. but there’s something so alluring about never saying it out loud. like it’s your little secret the two of you can keep, because adoration itself is something so beautiful it needed to be dragged out for as long as possible. you’ve grown to be a little impatient, though.

you nudge him teasingly.

“don’t. i’m right here.”

and it’s true; suguru sees it as a privilege. to be around your presence, to just talk to you — he worships the ground you walk on, and he’s not sure how to tell you that might be the reason why he worries so much.

instead, he chuckles, head bowing momentarily.

“i wish it were that easy.”

you bring your knees to your chest, giggling lightly.

he’s cute.

undeniably.

“it is.” you urge, dragging out the last syllable as you sway towards him. he meets your eyes. “just trust me like i trust you.”

suguru thinks that you’re sometimes oblivious to the weight of your words. they can be so intimate, and you’ll deliver them like any other sentence. as if you hadn’t just made his stomach churn, and his heart beat a little faster. he trusts you more than a healthy amount. he’d trust you with his life, his future — he’d leave everything in the palms of your hands.

“i do.” he replies, reassuringly. it’s earnest, and you smile. suguru bites the inside of his cheek, and closes his eyes. “it’s everything else that scares me.”

and there’s really nothing you can really do to help that fear, because you know it’s completely reasonable and realistic. tomorrow is never promised, especially with the hectic lives you live. you want to tell him that you have similar thoughts when he and satoru are out for days at a time, no return window strictly placed. that it has you pacing back and forth until their arrival, and even then you downplay your relief. but that’s a little embarrassing to say when he’s listening so intently, so you keep quiet.

you turn to him, shrugging with a smile you pray looks more optimistic than sorrowful.

“we can only ever hope for the best.”

a little hollow, less declarative than preferred, but it works the same. suguru nods in silent agreement.

suguru used to think that exceptional beasts like you and him could not fall in love — that it was the secret of ordinary people. for beings, who can alter the world, were special in indescribable ways. but he’s grown to be more open-minded, more accepting.

because what else could he do? you were so irresistible that it ceased the existence of his birth-given psychology. his mind, altered just for you.

“you know… you don’t have to prove yourself of anything.”

this time, it’s suguru who nudges you. he leans in, and you feel his hair brush against your arm. it tickles, but you don’t flinch. your body naturally welcomes the proximity, tingles and goosebumps etching across your skin. you squint, waiting for him to elaborate. and he does, with one validating sentence that kinda erases the possibility of self-doubt. just for a bit.

“i think you’re strong.”

he’d move stars for you, talk to the moon if it meant you got to keep the shimmer in your pretty eyes. and he’d ask the sun to stay out longer so he could continue seeing your rosy cheeks.

he’d gladly live for infinity if he could be the reason you get flustered forever.

you’re very pretty like this.

his eyes are watchful, observant as you scoff bashfully, avoiding him. and you quietly respond, with that same soothing voice. he thinks it could be a lullaby.

“i think you’re strong too.”

suguru smiles, nodding and all-knowing. he pokes you playfully.

“i know.”

you’d complain, but his tone lacks any arrogance. just a statement, enough said. because he knows how you think, how you observe.

and while you don’t say it out loud, your eyes are telling him ‘thank you.’

how beautiful the act of reading an expression is. of knowing a person so easily it’s like clockwork, unraveling intricate details to form a conscious understanding.

he watches your eyes narrow, and awaits a question he knows is on the tip of your tongue. your face looks a certain way during contemplation.

“you like doing this stuff?” you ask, tilting your head. “being a sorcerer, i mean.”

as if the two of you had other options. you didn’t.

but there’s something comforting about answering known questions. speaking the obvious into existence, letting the information linger in the air.

“i like it.” suguru replies, smiling. “if you get rid of the bad stuff.”

his voice gets quieter at the end, but you save him the questioning glance and smile back.

you hum, nodding. “like what?”

and you can name a million bad things. every day is a reminder of them. the two of you have that in common. but thankfully, the world has been kind enough to not let you experience them. your optimism hadn’t been tainted.

and as you expressed to him — you try not to dwell over the ticking clock, only ever hoping for the best.

suguru’s hands are behind him, propping himself up as he gazes at sheer, distant clouds. the sky is a pretty mix of yellow, orange, and red. evening approaches.

“well, all that self-sacrificing stuff for the betterment of mankind — for starters.” he sighs, head leaning back. you wonder if you imagine the way the slight slivers of sun sparkle against his skin, and how angelic his aura seems in that very moment.

you scoot a little closer, gaze matching his as you look upwards.

“we’re helping so many people, though.” you reply, glancing at him for a second. his eyes are closed, like a cat basking in the warmth of the light. you want to kiss his cheek.

“we are.”

“i think it’s cool.”

“it is cool.” he affirms, nodding. one eye opens, and he shamelessly stares as you obliviously observe the world. suguru is suddenly grateful that this view is currently only reserved for him, as he’s sure anyone would fall in love with you in this exact moment. yet, at the least, he wants you to see yourself in his neutral vision.

but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

he looks at your hand on the grass, right beside his. it’s contemplation that’s been built up for months, thoughts of you invading all his senses. suguru figures that if he had a flower for every time he’s thought of you, he could walk through a garden forever. he inches his fingers closer.

and pauses when they’re less than a centimeter away, pulling back as you break the silence.

“i mean, i’d die for you guys too.”

suguru tenses, and you grow nervously quiet from the sight of his surprised expression, feeling suddenly embarrassed. an awkward laugh leaves your lips in an attempt to ease the gloom of your words, and you mindlessly wave your hand. “if it came down to it, y’know.”

you would in a heartbeat. you’d do it a thousand times over if you could, but you don’t tell him that. that proclamation is reserved for only you.

and as suguru looks over at you, stares, he doesn’t think he’ll ever despise an idea more than he does now. it’s blazing, the thought horrendous.

“don’t say stuff like that.” he demands, shaking his head brazenly. you can feel his eyes still on you, and he’s lost his smile. “don’t ever.”

all the defense, the stoicism, stemming from the thought that — yes. he 100% believed you would die for anyone. and that terrified him more than anything.

suguru isn’t sure how to communicate his thoughts in a softer way. he doesn’t mean for his demeanor to grow so cold again, but it bothers him - makes him sick - that you can say things like that so easily.

“i didn’t — i’m sorry.” you stutter, eyes wide. you swallow thickly, “sorry.”

and again, it’s hard to be upset with you.

but this, he can be against. he needs to be.

“you can’t think like that.” suguru speaks, softer this time. it’s pleading, as if he’s begging for a bit of mercy. and he is. “please.”

he wants to tell you that it’s okay to be selfish, to prioritize yourself first. but it would seem a bit hypocritical coming from him, because he knows he’d throw everything away in a whim if it meant keeping you safe.

love blinds him, he supposes.

“okay.” you nod, eyes on the floor. “i won’t.”

you’re considerate enough to lie, despite knowing full well that your words don’t align with your mind whatsoever. and you think suguru knows that.

he’s staring. you can feel it, eyes as intense as a midnight sky. you feel a little afraid to look up and meet them.

but it’s only instinct when he speaks your name softly, a coaxing whisper among suffocating tension.

you think he looks ethereal when being clouded with concern. godly, towering upon you. the magnitude of his gaze truly shows with the lack of distance. you register the feeling of his hand on yours before anything else, the touch searing from pure shock. a large palm covers your skin.

“… i’m sorry. i just care about you a lot.”

worry is care. it’s one of the greatest devotions — the act of panic for another person.

suguru thinks that romance may actually be the most horrific thing in life. that it’s not curses, but love. it’s the deepest weakness.

“you kill me when you get injured — when you speak like that.” he mutters, and the two of you don’t say a thing as his hand inches higher.

it feels a little harder to breathe.

“can’t promise i’ll stop.” you reply, a pitying smile finding it’s way on your face as you watch him close his eyes briefly.

“i know.”

suguru feels a little like a broken record player, doomed to repeat the same phrases like it’s clockwork.

it’s futile, you’re mutually aware.

he can’t control you, he’s unable to dictate what decisions you make — no matter how stupid, or how horrid they are to him. but he can’t bring himself to stop trying. maybe, if you’re reminded your value, you’ll eventually think the same.

but, honestly, the way you’re looking at him right now could make him believe anything.

“did you find out who’s joining you tomorrow on your mission?”

the corner of your mouth quirks upwards, and he knows your answer before you say it out loud. he grins.

your other hand places itself on top of his, and you smile back. heart giddy, but you try your best to keep your composure.

“i pulled a few strings.”

•••

december, 2015.

you wonder if growing up not only changes your body, but your soul.

because it takes a long time to realize how truly miserable you are, and even longer to see that it doesn’t have to be that way.

it’d be kinda hard to feel your unhappiness now, regardless.

“i prefer if you keep them outside, megs.” you wince, eyeing the dirt-covered paw prints on the hardwood floor.

the two perpetrators stand on either side of their summoner.

flushed and clearly embarrassed, megumi curtly nods. his hair moves the slightest with the movement, and he turns his head away from you, kicking his foot back and forth. “sorry, i wasn’t thinking.”

the dogs leave your eyesight quickly after. you snort, playfully rolling your eyes at him, walking over to ruffle the dark spikes on his head.

“it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” you smile, silently pleased when he doesn’t move away from the ministration. he’s always been more lenient with you, a fact you hold high over a certain white-haired sorcerer. “plus, i’ll just make satoru clean it up.”

if you had blinked, you might had missed the way megumi’s mouth quirks up, satisfaction clear as day. it makes you giggle, up until you finally inspect him closer. your eyes linger on the dirt covering the side of his white shirt, and you softly sigh, pursing your lips.

“how was the curse?” you ask, nudging him a little where the stains are most prominent. “roughed you up a bit, huh?”

megumi’s introduction to jujustu wasn’t entirely seamless, but he was definitely a natural. an anomaly, like satoru. born with talent.

you watch as his face turns sour, and his eyes suddenly narrow, the stoic expression more familiar. he avoids your gaze and looks at the door expectantly, mumbling something under his breath.

“what?” you reply, brows furrowing as you lean a little closer in hopes he’ll repeat himself. megumi’s mouth opens again, and he’s about to, but an obnoxious ‘i’m backkkk!’ interrupts him.

you share an unimpressed look with the younger boy.

satoru strides inside, whistling with a grin. you’ve spent too much time with him, years ticking off your lifespan from both the annoyance and contentment that he simultaneously brings into the world. he and megumi had left early in the morning, and it was around midday now — too long with him, as you can clearly pinpoint on latter’s face.

satoru’s hands are in his pockets, and he shuts the door with his shoulder, leaning back against it.

“missed us?” he smiles, and he walks over to throw an arm around megumi, which is immediately thrown off. satoru glares momentarily, but quickly looks back up at you, clearing his throat. “missed me?”

you stare, sighing softly before gently tugging megumi towards you.

“i missed megumi.” you correct, crossing your arms. your head motions to him, “and why does it look like he got pushed on the floor? i thought you said-“

“it was a grade three!” satoru immediately exclaims, and points to the boy beside you in accusation. “he told me not to get involved.”

despite his adult frame, satoru never really outgrew his childishness, still quick to blame anyone other than himself. his defensiveness was mildly irritating, but you've come to grow used to it. your head shakes disapprovingly, and you huff. “he’s thirteen, you idiot.”

satoru’s smile turns a little mischievous as megumi looks at you quizzically, a frown on his face. “so?”

you rub your head in annoyance, ignoring satoru’s ‘oooo,’ and gently flick megumi on the forehead. “you’re not an official student yet. dealing with curses by yourself can wait. for now, you fight with satoru.”

satoru dramatically sighs, and much to your dismay, approaches you. his arm infamously wraps itself around your frame, body leaning towards you, and it feels like the weight of an elephant, crushing you as you stumble. he doesn’t let up. “you worry too much. and he exorcised it! maybe with a little less ease than expected, but-“

he grunts when a hand collides with his side, and you’re too busy pushing him off to see the way he sticks his tongue out at megumi.

maybe your concerns were a little irrational, but your heart was in the right place. megumi was still young, still enrolled in a normal middle school — albeit, close to his last year — and you had originally planned to keep him completely innocent for just a while longer. no world of killing, curses, and whatnot. but satoru had pushed him into it within the first few months of his complicated adoption, and you secretly knew that there was nothing you could do to completely shield that side of the ugly world for him.

so, you suppose the least you could do was teach him how to protect himself. in case you or satoru couldn’t.

“well,” you sigh, defeatedly. there’s a lopsided smile on your face, and you expectantly look to megumi. “how was it, then?”

there’s a boyish smile, a little shy, that appears on his face. “cool.”

“see!” satoru grins, arms raising in victory. “he loved it, and he should probably do it more often-“

“fine, fine.”

it’s always been pretty futile to argue with satoru. not only is he stubborn, but painstakingly arrogant. he tends to think his ideas are always the best, simply because they’re made in his very head. and you can’t discredit them, because normally, they’re alright. but it can be frustrating. he’s also really hard to deny.

it’s only natural to give in. just so you can avoid drawing it out.

“awesome! i think he’s ready for a special grade!” satoru claps his hands, and you deadpan, rolling your eyes.

“don’t kill my kid.” you mutter, shaking your head as you turn, ignoring the way satoru’s smile settles into something a little more genuine. heartfelt, maybe.

truth be told, you’d trust satoru with everything and more. you worry and fret, but at the end of the day, he’ll still be there. he’s been stuck to you like glue for years now, and it didn’t help that you practically live under the same roof. different rooms, but realistically having no actual space. it’s nice, and you really do hold him in your heart deeply. at an arm’s length.

you end up being stuck with cooking dinner yet again — satoru winning because otherwise he’d ’poison the kids’ (which, you think is stupid because he could easily just follow a recipe. also, he’s used that excuse before.) — and it’s like clockwork, a routine, when you find yourself sat across from him on the couch afterwards, tsumiki and megumi long gone in their respective rooms.

you’ve found that gojo satoru acts a bit differently when it’s just the two of you. less irritable, and easier to talk to; you’ve noticed this since you met him. his voice gets quieter, the blindfold comes off, his hair falls, and you’re presented with a more raw version. and maybe the kids get a different version too, but you find that hard to believe when megumi’s distaste is so palpably strong.

“movie?” satoru asks, peeking at you through narrow eyes. his face is a little smushed by his palm as he leans against the armrest, and there’s a lazy smile on his face. he looks kinda tired, weirdly enough. exhaustion is so foreign on his face that it looks almost fake. you wonder how much he slept last night, spotting hints of darkness beneath the pretty blue of his vision.

you think it’s strange that you don’t get sick of his presence, even after all this time. that’s it’s forever missed more than loathed. you’re always in such close proximity, practically doing everything together, and yet you find that crave him every second he’s not beside you. pitifully, it might just be the attachment issues you’ve subconsciously formed, and have unfortunately plagued satoru with. but that reason just seems a little too sad for you to fully admit. everything realistic is somehow bitter. you softly sigh, momentarily closing your eyes.

you’d love to stay, just to hear his idiotic rambles and comments. they always brought more substance than the film itself. and he’s been gone all day. you rub your forehead, feeling a small inkling of guilt.

“i have a mission later.” you reply, apologetically, and smile sincerely. “but when i come back, yes.”

an active report coming from a town over — information on paper only describing the energy as ‘ominous.’

“oh,” satoru’s eyes widen, and though you’re unable to read the exact emotion on his face, he seems a little alarmed. nearly wincing. he’s kinda upset that you didn’t tell him sooner, that being visibly clear — but then again, did you really have an obligation to? he didn’t really tell you whenever he had missions. but that was because he’d return in a few quick hours every time. satoru didn’t like being gone for too long either. he never dragged out his departures; he hated to leave you by yourself, even if the kids were with you. it feels a little cruel. you watch his eyes dart towards the windows, and he shifts, facing you. the movement is a little awkward, and he pauses before his speaks, hesitant with his words. “want me to go with you? it’s kind of late.”

it’s sweet that he asks.

“satoru,” you chuckle, tilting your head. “it’s a couple of second grades. i’ll be fine.”

a little white lie, but you craved some action. satoru always got stuck with the interesting missions, and even then they posed no such threat to him. all of your assignments were simple, too easy to be considered enjoyable. if this was going to be the route you were taking in life, — exorcising curses — then you could at least make it somewhat fun.

satoru can tell something’s off. you’re too dismissive, and you won’t look at him directly. but he feels as though it’s not his place to scold you, and he trusts you dearly, so he ignores his gut.

“alright.” he shrugs, his arms moving behind his head as they nonchalantly cross, contrasting the way he feels a little unusual. “call me if you need anything.”

•••

december brings cold winter air, and you blow into your palms, attempting to warm the skin that’s begun to grow a little numb.

more people should go on nightly walks, you think. maybe then it’d be more calming. every street you’ve turned to is nearly empty, the only comfort being provided by dim overhead lights. but you suppose you’ve gone through more fearsome events, so this shouldn’t really be that big of a deal.

it’s a little frustrating to be walking around so aimlessly. the report gave no specific location, just the brief mention of a couple of previous sightings. by now, they’d more-than-likely dispersed to other areas.

you’re slightly tempted to call satoru for some help, as you’ve never been the best at detecting curses at a long-range, but you refrain.

it was late, and you know he’d probably never let you live it down.

satoru would never say ‘no’ to you. but there comes a price with that reliability and expectancy. small instances, like when you caught a cold, and had asked him to order for you at a coffee shop because your voice had been to sore to do so. he complied, but not without a relentless amount of teasing, even going to far as to lie to the barista, saying ‘sorry, she’s just really shy.’ he lived for your embarrassment, and it was generally harmless, so you couldn't reprimand him for it.

but sometimes every time, he’d have his own small apology. like how right after you had returned home, there was soup coincidentally ordered on your front porch.

satoru had walked inside without looking at you.

he can be tolerable. rarely.

you're nearly persuaded to go back home, midnight beginning to take a toll on your tired eyes. as far as you were aware, the curses hadn't caused harmful havoc. but it'd be pretty humiliating to head back without a small victory, and even then you'd probably stay up feeling guilty.

unintelligible whispers break you out of your thoughts, and you blink, eyes scanning the area.

goosebumps arise, and your head turns.

finally.

you nearly jump when you see it, though keep your composure, standing straighter.

it’s hardly detectable, as it stands. fairly large too. it might actually be a second grade.

you huff, brows furrowing as you inspect the curse. this was the cause of the ‘ominous’ energy? you feel it, but it’s looks don’t work well with it’s written description. maybe you’d be heading home sooner than you expected.

your hand reaches behind you to grab your weapon, and you move forward, testing to see how fast it’s reflexes are.

it doesn’t move.

you pause, rolling your eyes briefly.

“at least put up a fight, dude.” you mumble, nearly sighing as it continues to plainly watch you. you walk a little closer, up until you’re only a few feet away, and hum. “you’re not the brightest…”

you insert your weapon back into it’s sheath, and stare. it’s been a while since you’ve had the chance to see a curse so closely. they’re all usually extremely reactive, not sparing you a second before attacking. violence is their prime instinct; the main thought in their heads.

when you reach your hand to poke it, and it still doesn’t budge, you know something is wrong.

oh.

your entire body stills, and you’re certain that you feel your stomach drop to the floor.

something felt familiar.

confirming your terrible suspicions, the curse disappears in front of your very eyes. not exorcised. you’re staring at the empty space that it once occupied, too bothered by the fact that your heartbeat has picked up ten times faster.

you almost reach for your phone, but stop, feeling as though it wouldn't be the wisest decision.

this suddenly all feels a little too calculated. you don’t even attempt to grab your weapon again.

shock numbs your bones. it bleeds through and renders you useless.

you hear your name before you see him, and you figure it feels the same as the nearly-fatal slash toji had given you almost a decade ago. so painful that it makes your heart stop. it’s spoken with such intimate fondness — too much for your poor heart to comprehend.

his ubiquity is so daunting that you’re sure all time ceases to exist.

you don’t want to turn around. you want to run, flee before you know it’s too late. before you hear him speak, and the world comes crashing down all over again. you’ve tried so hard to piece it back together. every tiny detail - you’re not sure if you’d be able to start over. why now? when you’ve finally been better. when you finally believed that normality was even possible to achieve.

but you’ve always naturally given into him, and that habit stays strong even after all these years. you think he knows that too.

it’s with upmost hesitance that you turn around.

you’re not sure what to do.

he’s a sight for sore eyes. healing, beautifully transparent. a dear smile, inviting you closer. or more like a predator awaiting it’s prey. your body is giving you every negative cue, yet your legs stay in place, submissive to his presence that’s been so horrendously missed.

he a little looks older. or maybe that’s just the unfamiliar sight of all his hair down.

“hi.”

a part of you thinks that if you ignore him for long enough, he might disappear. leave you alone, as he’s chosen to do before. he’s lost the right to be welcomed.

fury is really the only emotion you could accurately pinpoint. you hate how soft he speaks. you hate it more than anything.

if you could stomach it, you’d ask him to close his eyes and turn the other direction. you’ve always been weak when he looks at you so intently, as if studying you to the finest detail. but you refuse to be the one to look away first - you selfishly crave his attention more than you value your own self-respect.

and as suguru looks at you, he thinks you’ve made it impossibly more difficult to do anything but beg for undeserving forgiveness. he’s staring at reflective streams, seeing as they slowly trail down your face. it must feel nice to be falling tears, symbolic of raindrops returning to the ocean. he’d like to sit in front of the ocean again. with you, being careless teenagers just for a little longer. but the ocean brings back bitter memories and the thoughts of a certain brunette child, so he refrains from thinking further.

“… don’t cry.”

it’s not a command of any sort, but instead a quiet plea. you’re too pretty for tears. too pretty for pain, too pretty for this unfair life he’s plagued you with.

he watches your eyes visibly widen, and your hand raises quickly, using your sleeve to wipe remnants of your intense emotions. it stains your skin a bit red from how roughly you move, lashes dismally coated with the aftermath.

“i’m not—“ and you huff, your throat feeling tight. your head bows by instinct, and you shake it firmly. you press your palms to your eyes for a few seconds, pushing harshly, as if the pressure could ease some of the shock, or ground you in any way. “i’m not fucking crying.”

cautiously, suguru nods. he’ll play into you, listen to everything you say even if it’s not entirely truthful. anything to make his appearance less daunting and harmful. he waits for you to speak, knowing the sound of his voice may not be as pleasant as he had hoped. he’s not sure what he was expecting.

battered already, in so much internal sorrow you might collapse, you breathe as deeply as you are able to. it shakes, and you opt to biting your lip instead.

harrowing disbelief is tainting your skin and bones, and it feels hopeless to even try understanding why he’s here. waltzing right back into your life, bewitchingly present. words linger, staying on the tip of your tongue as you internally battle yourself to release them. release you.

the air smells like rain. and you think — all this anger, it was once was love.

“i hate you.”

and there’s a frown on your lips, trembling as you try to muster up all of the loathe, resentment, and frustration into those three words.

it fails. because the admission is not of truth — if anything, it’s guilt. for the sole reason that you know your feelings stand the exact opposite.

you hate suguru for leaving you. not him as a person; him as a thought. a thought that consistently runs rampant through your mind, adding fuel to a prevalent fire that refuses to be extinguished. and you imagine that he likes that he still has that effect on you, because the hauntingly serene smile he holds doesn’t even falter, not for a second.

you’re forced to stare at him with that expression, and it feels wickedly taunting. not as comforting as it had before.

“that’s alright.”

it’s all he puts out into the air, and that gentle tone he holds kinda makes you want to hit him. he’s not like satoru — you’re sure he’d let you. but suguru can sense your agonizing heartbreak. he’d sense everything about you with his eyes closed. and he feels guilty for making you reopen old wounds, but he’s unaware that they’ve never been given a chance to properly heal.

geto suguru sees a little bit of you in everything lovely. the sun shining in the morning, the smiles on two pretty little girl’s faces, the moon casting a dim halo over the world at night.

you’ve only become a greater treasure. one to be cherished, to be adored. he’s missed you in his sight more than anything. you’re still a angel on earth, incredulously beautiful. even with tears, even with that despaired look on your face. he’s fighting every urge in his body to not step closer and mend your broken self.

he’d like to run his fingers over your soul and pour his love into each crack he finds.

“give me a few minutes. that’s all i need.”

he’d prefer an eternity. but he thinks that he’s asked for something reasonable.

it’s expected when you scoff, glaring daggers with blurry vision. but it doesn’t make it any less painful.

suguru can take it. he deserves it.

“please.”

the distaste on your face refuses to falter.

you crave to love without it having consequences.

since when had caring become so much of a burden? it’s evil, honestly. maybe stone-cold was the way to go. nanami might be on to something.

“stop this, suguru.” you whisper, hand sliding down your face in frustration as you let out a bitter sigh that lacks any amusement. “leave me alone.”

he savors the way his name sounds on your tongue, the drawn-our syllables holding the same familiar care of nearly a decade ago. it feels longer, too much time spent away from you. it lightens his aura, makes his senses heightened in almost a feral way. you speak of him like fate.

old habits refuse to die, and he stays where he is, the same face of persuasion used as he outwardly refuses your answer.

“kill me, then.” he shrugs, and he thinks he might actually die from the way your frown falters into shock once again. his smile twitches, nearly threatening to downcast.

it should be what you do.

suguru was a dead man. that fact hadn’t slipped your mind. you remember when satoru saw him, in the flesh, after the sentence. he couldn’t bring himself to kill him then, and you could briefly recall the look on his face when you softly told him you could eventually do it if he wasn’t able to. that solemn twinge, knowing something you wouldn’t admit out loud.

because satoru knew, better than anyone around, that if you went through with it, it would break you past the point of repair.

suguru, seemingly satisfied with your stillness, steps a bit closer.

it kinda feels like doom. you think the world may stop for a moment, and that all the bad things in life will come and finish you off. that death will take your hand, guiding you, kinder than anything that’s ever really touched it. because what it’s held before has cursed it.

when his hands reach up, you expect a knife in the throat — any consequence for the stupidity of your compliance. but the blades are soft, and they raise to hold your face. gently, as if earning the trust of a stray kitten. because they’re not blades, they’re his hands. he feels you shaking against them. and it’s odd that all tranquility really needs is a certain sight; reassurance in the form of a graceful being who has been absent for too long. you don’t move. you’re unable to. instead, you stare, taking in a lost future. hair you used to brush yourself, eyes that would watch you with such visible adoration. they still do, and that realization alone has your head hurting.

you feel his thumb wipe below your eye, and it feels cold over your heated skin. suguru sighs, his eyebrows furrowing ever-so-slightly.

“you’re very beautiful.”

it’s spoken almost hopelessly, as if the admission physically hurts for him to say. in a way, it does. he’s let go of one of the last devotions to you that he’s kept bottled inside of him, because he knows this might be the last time he sees you. he has to let everything go. you need to know what he thinks of you, how important you are. how he’s submitted his soul to the disaster of loving you since you were teenagers.

by the way his eyes narrow, and his pupils grow just a tiny bit bigger, your eyes widen, and you’re pushing him away instantly.

you know what comes next. you’re able to predict it before it’s able to horrifically conjure itself out loud.

“no, suguru.”

he follows after you, a firm yet gentle hold on your forearms stopping you from completely leaving. you’re already shaking your head, biting your lip as it threatens to quiver. he’s trapping you, and he knows he’s already won.

“let me.” he coos, rubbing the skin of your trembling limbs. and you try to convince yourself that you shouldn’t sympathize, or fall for that sweet, missed voice of his. how he’s just a stranger you unfortunately know everything about. to ignore gentle aura you’ve missed so much that you felt as though you’ve never been able to get a grip on the pain in your chest. “let me say it.”

you’re not built for this, not capable enough to take another harrowing blow.

“leave — fucking, leave.” you seethe, frantically attempting to pull your arms back, though his hold has gotten stronger, and the fight that you have left in you is quickly diminishing by the second. there’s a moment — the tiniest sliver of time — where you stumble, and you’re being pushed closer to him before you can blink.

“you don’t want me to.” suguru shakes his head, eyeing you carefully as you stop your movements. it’s declarative.

you’d like to slap him. knock some common sense into his head because, obviously. you never wanted him to. not when you were sixteen, not now, not ever.

it’s just defense. because you cruelly know that letting him in will just make everything worse. walls were needed for protection, even if the doors are halfway open.

his hands find themselves cradling your face once more, and he’s pulling you, a small gap being the only distance left between a terrible decision. you’re subconsciously following, body keen on obeying his every move. his gaze feels a little intrusive, looking so intently you have the urge to turn your head and close your eyes. your breath is shaky, and you feel a little light-headed.

you wonder if anyone else in the world has ever loved someone this terribly.

hastily, your hands place themselves on his chest with an attempt to push him away, but they stay pliant. you look at him, incredulously.

“what is wrong with you?”

it’s clear when his expression darkens a little, and he dejectedly looks to the side. you catch his eyes widening a bit, the harshness of your tone foreign, because you’ve only ever spoken to him with such tender care. you’re spewing out words with cracks in your voice, nearly whispering because you’re afraid that if you speak any louder, it’ll truly start a storm.

“you… you kill people, leave me — leave everyone — and then…” your eyes close, and you feel the liquid trailing down your cheeks again before you’re able to stop it. you can’t finish your sentence, too busy holding your breath to calm a threatening sob.

it feels like you’re sixteen again, and everything is crumbling.

his arms move slowly as they wrap themselves around you, and you feel even more inclined to cry when he presses your head against his chest. like he’s done dozens of times before. he sucks, the world sucks. this comfort is long overdue, and you still can’t find it in yourself to complain, simply succumbing to the pressure of his presence. you’d like to hug your younger self. because she needed this, even if it can’t really count as closure. even if you currently felt your knees buckling from beneath you.

“i wish i could take away the pain, pretty girl.”

suguru won’t give you false apologies. he only feels guilt for causing you harm. he dislikes how pain looks on your face, and he wants to tell you that he’s unable to sleep at night without you, that every day is a challenge. that truthfully, the ache is mutual. but he has something to accomplish, and you stand on opposing sides.

the two of you are stubborn people.

“take it,” you tremble, and your arms are already around him, despite the screams in your mind. he feels safe. he feels like everything and more. “please, please, take it.”

the pleading in your voice makes suguru feel horribly ill, and he tightens his grip on you, not really knowing what else to do.

it’s worse when you’re the perpetrator. the criminal, the evil. he wonders what your life might have looked like without him in it — how happy you could have been. should’ve been.

but there’s been bad things — events that he’s sure might had ended horrifically differently without his existence.

he wonders how your scar looks, now.

suguru’s fingers are firm as they reach below your chin, and he forces your eyes to meet once more. they’re red and glossy, but still undeniably captivating. he’d like to look at them forever.

“i would, if it were that easy. i promise you.”

you believe him. it could be from the genuine strain in his voice, or your muddled brain that’s clawing to escape your own head. what good is a healthy mind?

he’s saying your name again, and it’s quieter this time. more intimate. you don’t cower, you stay, even huddling the tiniest bit closer. you’ve given up on composure, you’ll let him selfishly have you. besides, it feels nice when he’s treating you so delicately. hands ghosting over your cheeks, eyes that admire your desperate, sad ones. you don’t stop him this time, numbly prepared for the aftermath.

he pauses, trailing his thumb over your jaw, and swallowing thickly. he’s never quite looked normal. always too perfect in comparison to everything else. he smiles, and you see a hint of something that you can’t really classify as full joy.

“i love you.”

the world doesn’t end.

you’re still looking at him, thinking that it will for a moment. instead, you see bashful pink.

‘i love you’ is such a tricky sentence. it’s powerful, meaningful, and could also be a lie. the power of speech is that there really are no limits, and you suppose that’s what makes bad people. sometimes.

he toys with the collar of your shirt, briefly, and lets out a breath of amusement through his nose. suguru feels lighter. and simultaneously horrible. he tilts his head, barely, his voice quiet.

“will you let me kiss you? even if you hate me?”

there’s a little teasing in that sentence, and he nudges his nose across the side of your face affectionately. you’re unaware of how hard his heart beats against his chest as soon as he asks.

you’re sixteen once more, and you’re silently nodding before you’re able to think further.

you’re imagining fairytales you can’t believe in.

it’s hard to determine how long you’ve thought about it. his lips on yours. your hands are in his hair and on his face nearly immediately. you’d trade a lot of things to be this close for longer — you wish to be combined. and he’s soft. he’s so soft you dread taking your hands off of him. if heaven was a place on earth, it’d be this.

pitiful.

he tastes sweet, like a forgotten dream. butterflies suffocate your insides as you stand, and your knees feel a little weaker. suguru is a bit impatient with his movements, hands trailing down your sides to squeeze and caress. his touch feels hot and is hastily done, but gentle nonetheless. you feel his lips curl up against yours, and your stomach flips.

you rather not pull away. pulling away brings back reality, and fantasy is really all you want. if you kiss him a bit harder, and close your eyes a little longer, you’re able to stay.

he pulls back first.

you’re breathing heavy, eyes wide as they bore into his. he might be the most precious thing in your life, and you’re not sure if you’re able to let him go. you’re afraid that you’ll love him forever, and that you’ll never be in the same place again. this feels cruelly temporary, and you know it is. by the way his expression settles, and the way he repeats those three words so quietly, it’s meant for only you to hear. a fact.

“i love you.”

you swallow thickly, in a haze that’s caused just by his very being. a drug-like addiction, and you feel so content it’s like you’re home.

suguru knows you won’t say it back. and in all honesty, he prefers it that way. it’s what’s best. what matters most is that he knows you mean to. he’s able to read that lovestruck wonder on your face so easily it makes him warm. it was both a relief and horror to be known so perfectly. you, who still wears your heart on your sleeve. he’s forever grateful that you’ve always been so giving, so selfless when it comes to him. he feels as though he abuses your sweet compassion.

you tug on his sleeve.

“we can work something out.” you whisper against him, and suguru knows he’s gone too far. he’s tensing, and his eyes are anxious, a small shake of his head contrasting your nods. “i’m yours. i’m yours before anything else.”

heart, mind, body, soul. you’re bonded for life, and you’ve known that since you were young.

“oh, no, baby.” suguru hurriedly answers, and the desperation in your voice, the way you clutch on to him a little tighter, has his head reeling. he’s panicking. “you’re better where you are, sweet girl.”

you know his mind is made up, that it’s fruitless to try, but you’re so blinded by desires that you don’t even care that you’re begging him. he’s mean, doing this to you. there is no ultimatum or other decision - this is it. you’re just destined to be separate, and that hurts to realize, so you’re glad he’s cushioning the blow. just enough for you to keep standing.

suguru is complicated. he hates that he is, he hates what his life has brought him (the only exception being the beauty of the people in his past; you included), but he’s certain that you’re safer as it is. golden and pure. with satoru, with shoko. and you’re strong. you’re so strong he can’t put it into words.

maybe he had some reasonable motives — riko’s death, yours and satoru’s near deaths, haibara’s death — but they’ve shaped him. shaped you, more, as it seems. you continue your life, even after it’s been tainted red, and blackened with misery. satoru, the same. you can take a bit more. you’ve gone through the worst of it. at least — it’s what he selfishly tells himself.

it was stupid to come see you. kiss you, at that. but he can’t bring himself to regret even slightly. if he’s considered evil, barbaric, he’ll gladly take the titles if it meant spending more moments with you. it’s cruel, not malicious.

you’re still his person. but he can’t have you fully — at least, not in this lifetime.

suguru isn’t really sure he could pass on the torch so easily. to give you up completely — the most ultimate sacrifice. where there would be a possibility of his replacement, and the loss of his heart. he can’t trust anyone with loving you; no one can really love you like he does. he’ll take pride in that.

“you’re going to live a long, happy life.” suguru quietly assures, nudging his nose against yours. your eyes are tightly shut, overall avoidant. this might be a nightmare, if you believe hard enough. “find someone who loves you, and you easily will, do everything-“

“i don’t want anyone else.” you interrupt, eyes narrowing as they open, like the idea is something of the unthinkable. “you’d be stupid to think i do.”

this might be worse than unrequited love, you think. every feeling is mutual, besides the belief that you should be together. he’s the bane of your existence. and that kills.

suguru is reasonable. you understand his refusals, why the two of you can’t be — how immaturely you’re thinking about this. you can’t leave your life behind for him, it’d be asking for your own death sentence and the loss of everything left that’s good in your life.

you can’t create a cycle, as much as it pains for you to come to terms with.

“i can’t have you, pretty girl.” suguru sighs, trying to ignore the way his voice wavers the tiniest bit. he’s growing desperate in persuasion, but even he falls flat against the situation. “i want to, so bad, but it’s not right. we’re not right.”

your chest feels tight as you stare up at him.

you wonder, truly, if he’s aware of all the turmoil he’s caused; that he’s let happen, because he never even came back to offer a mere shoulder for support. he simply left you in the dust.

it hurts to hear, especially coming from lips that had been pressed so wonderfully against yours. you still can’t bring yourself to hate him.

you used to fear irrational ideas. that if you let someone in, take care of you, you wouldn’t really be yourself anymore. independency never worked well, and you’ve strung on a bit too hard to a knight in shining armour. a being like icarus, who’s flown too close to the sun. you were right, it seems.

you’ve lost, and it kills to realize.

bitterly, you remember hearing some time ago that ‘it gets easier.’ or better. it’s been repeated to you, multiple times. the reality is, you’re not too sure. what gets easier is maybe the coping. but even that is still evil and painful.

hopeless, you stand, and your voice feels hoarse.

“… suguru?”

how can you hate something so natural? when it feels as though those syllables are meant to be spoken in repetition. his name means excellence; to surpass all.

suguru looks at you, eyes previously occupied with gazing upwards to avoid an act of human emotion. they mirror yours, glossy and faintly red. no visible tears. he has the self-control you lack.

but you can be a little selfish.

“can you…” you take a deep breath, and lean a little forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck to escape a reaction. if he feels the liquid of your tears, he doesn’t comment on them. he’s awfully warm. you’d like to lay in bed with him under a summer sun again. you’re trying to force every part of him into your memory while he’s pressed to closely against you. how his hair tickles your neck, the security of his loving arms keeping you from physical harm, how pretty he looks up close.

it’s not greedy to ask for a final request, you think.

“can you stay with me, then? for a few more minutes?”

an innocent question, while he’s been nothing but cruel. despite everything, you’re still you.

it reminds him of his youth. when you and satoru would get into playful arguments, gaining a few steps on him, only for you to turn back and check that he was still there. or when you would return from missions, him being the first person you looked for every time, just to let him know you came back safely.

sometimes, you’d come back a bit battered up, and instead of confiding in shoko for help like any other person would, you trusted him with treating the wounds. all natural, because that meant you got to spend more time together. human bodies are fragile things. he realized the true extent of that after toji. you really can’t take anything for granted.

so it’s really no wonder why he fell in love with you. why he came to fully accept it. and his belief stands strong — anyone would. angels are irresistible, he finds. he would sometimes see wings.

suguru’s glad you can’t see his face. because maybe then, you’d catch the sight of a reflective shimmer trailing down his cheek.

the embodiment of your dreams, hopes, and desires holds you so gently, a little tighter now. he nods against you, but it feels disconnected, because he’s faded into darkness that has already consumed him. too far gone.

time is nothing for now.

and you wonder if it actually does get better, or if everyone is just lying to you.

•••

september, 2018.

“sensei?”

blinking slowly, you immediately straighten at the sight of three towering figures above your relaxed position.

there’s a panic that sets in at the recognition of how watery your eyes feel, and your head turns in an instant to cough awkwardly, avoiding their stares.

it’s around noon, judging by how pleasantly the sun shines through the window, and how awake your students look. yuji liked to sleep in sometimes.

“did i zone out for a bit?” you mindlessly chuckle, the words feeling a little strange on your tongue. you might have a migraine from how much your head is hurting. “i didn’t get too much sleep last night, sorry guys.”

your smile radiates a reassuring warmth, and the concern on their faces leaves by the time you look back at them. if jujustu didn’t work, maybe you could take up acting.

“we finished the warmups you instructed!” nobara beams, short hair flowing after her as she proudly stands. she glances at yuji, her eyes narrowing. “well, me and fushiguro did.”

yuji shoves her.

nobara has always reminded you of rough recovery rooms and gentle curing hands. it makes you a bit nauseous, the nostalgia of it all.

the sight of the whole trio sometimes felt like daggers digging into your heart, stabbing greedy wounds into open gashes before they have a chance to heal.

brighter days for them, a dull ache for you.

“you weren’t awake yet-“

“i told you to wake me up!”

“you did not!”

yuji and nobara bicker for a second, and you feel a little overwhelmed.

because since these two have set foot on campus, they had seemed oddly familiar. unbeknownst to them, but relentlessly distressing for you. you’re silent as you observe, the uncomfortable pit in your stomach staying clear as day. stubborn, because that’s only natural for you.

more than a decade has passed — nearly three years since your last encounter, almost a year after his death, and yet here you are. the hurt just as strong, because you’ve realized that the pain will never fully go away, and you suppose you’ll have to adapt to living with it forever.

but you’re grateful. though you couldn’t go back to the way things were, you have a chance at stopping the cycle. after all, you know little about what the future has in store for them.

you hope it’s kind. you want those grins to stay permanently, for their youth and innocence to linger for as long as possible. because you never had that luxury. the end of your purity was far too quick, adult emotions flooding your senses. you’d do anything to keep them from feeling like you.

plus, you’re allowed to grieve over the child you could’ve been.

“alright, alright,” you blink, interrupting them before their voices can get any louder. they immediately quiet down, turning to you expectantly. it freaks you out a little.

you were still relatively new to whole teaching thing, not used to being followed so attentively. it felt weird to give orders — to have them be listened to, really. satoru was more of a natural, his cheekiness benefitting him perfectly. even if the students found him undeniably strange.

“give me ten minutes and i’ll meet you outside.” you wave a hand, pointing to yuji. “and sorry kiddo, you’re doing some laps for getting up late.”

you fight a smile as you witness a pout form on his lips, nobara’s laugh drowning out his whining. you’d probably only make him run one, but it was always amusing to lie to his face. you adored yuji — he was a bundle of joy graciously given to the universe. it’s pure luck that he ended up with you.

you watch as nobara drags him out, your head resting on your palm, softly chuckling. they complimented each other well. like siblings, you think.

your head turns, finally facing eyes that hadn’t strayed away from you since you woke up from your daydream. it's like a sixth sense now. you know when he's looking at you, when he seems genuinely bothered. it took time to know him. he’s a hard shell to crack.

“you don’t get special privileges, megs.” you snort, motioning your head towards the door. “go join them, i just need some time to wake up.”

megumi looks unimpressed (and honestly, when does he not?), sighing softly before coming closer. the cushion beside you sinks as he sits, and you raise a brow questionably. his voice is blunt, quiet as it fills the room.

“you think too much.”

it surprises you a little, but you’ve come to learn that megumi is rarely predictable, and to always expect the unexpected.

“do i?” you muse, your smile visibly weakening as you softly laugh.

he was too aware of everything, perception like no other. he reminded of you of suguru sometimes, behavior so nonchalant in comparison to the rest of the world. they were both silent observers.

megumi nods, and you realize he’s rather close, only a few inches away from grazing your skin. touch was something megumi struggled with growing up, so you never pushed it on him; you hated making him uncomfortable, while satoru could care less. the giant didn’t understand boundaries. but sometimes, movie nights in his adolescence led to him latching on to you in his sleep. he had his moments.

it makes the action of his hand raising, pressing your head into his shoulder, much more meaningful.

“don’t think.”

megumi’s never been one for melodramatic situations. growing up, he’d used to complain when tsumiki would force him to watch disney movies with her, getting visibly annoyed when he’d spot her tears during more heartfelt scenes. you never brought up the fact that he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder (you secretly wonder if that’s why he’s doing that now), or would rub her back. megumi’s not kind, per say, but he knows how to secretly love (in his own, strange way. similar to satoru), and you think that’s more important than anything.

“that’d be cool.” you sigh, closing your eyes. your eyelids feel heavy on your face, and you try not to get too comfortable, remembering that you’d have to get up in a few minutes. “wish it were that simple.”

megumi hums, staring straight ahead.

your past is a secret to him, tightly kept in the confinements of your heart. and that's really the only hint he's ever needed to know that it still affects you. satoru, the same. he knew little about your lives before he came into the picture, only hearing bits and pieces when you and satoru would get a bit sleep-drunk and giggle about old memories. he's always tried his best to listen, soaking in any details he can. people are generally more honest and open when physically tired. it's why they confess things during late night conversations, and why the flow of words comes out more natural.

you were different from the idiot that had originally taken him in. megumi can scream from every rooftop that he hated gojo satoru (despite it being secretly untrue), but you? the mediator, who he looked up to more than anything? impossible, it’d be criminal.

maybe you disliked seeming hopeless in front of him, but he didn't mind that vulnerability. he wished you'd trust him with it more — that you knew he would never dream of judging you. he's not too well with words, or communicating, really, so he's also not too sure how to tell you. a double-edged sword.

"you're okay, though — right?"

his eyes glance downwards towards you, dark blue highlighting the inklings of concern. it's not awkward when he asks.

he has a heart, despite satoru's beliefs.

heart warmed, you grin, raising your head to look at him with crinkled narrowed eyes.

you find it funny how the world works. going in some strange, bittersweet chain of events because here you were, caring for the life of a dead man’s son while he had permanently tainted yours. and you're happy. not completely, but sun shines through. the blinds are halfway open.

something that had once seemed so dark has been becoming technicolor.

"yeah." you nod, sincerely, and pat his cheek gently, stifling a laugh when his face scrunches in silent disapproval. "thank you for asking. really."

his face gently pulls away from your touch, and you can tell he's slightly flustered, just a tad embarrassed at your small affection. you're grateful for him, unbelievably thankful for the bits of effort he's always put into caring about you (and tsumiki. and maybe the tiniest bit for satoru. tiny.). a true blessing.

gingerly, he stands up, hands in his pockets as he glances at you again, double-checking. you smile.

he only continues to walk towards the door when you give him a nod in reassurance.

you're left staring at your hands when he leaves, a soft sigh escaping your lips. some days are harder than others. it's the toss of a coin, no chances pre-determined. you simply wake up to the surprise every time.

admittedly, you miss the version of you that doesn’t really exist anymore. naive, but more open. fearless and valiant, only ever seeking improvement. you feel bitter that you took that time of your life for granted.

you’ve found that everything’s felt easier, though. something in the air is different.

“hey, did you leave the kids outside? it's hot out there and they're complaining like crazy-“

you hear footsteps come to a halt, and your head tilts up, finding satoru in it's vision. he stands in place by the door, eyes wide as he stares.

"hey," you nonchalantly wave, stretching to alleviate the soreness in your muscles. "i'll be out in a second."

you attempt to get up from your seat, but satoru ushers towards you, stopping you from successfully moving.

"woah, woah, woah — what’s got you so blue?” he asks, scanning over you briefly. there's a light-hearted smile on his face, and if you didn't know him well enough, you might have mistaken it for amusement. but it's down-casted slightly, and he's looking at you a little too intently.

you snort, rolling your eyes playfully, “i’m not blue.”

satoru blinks, unappreciative of the response that he can only justify was from being around him too often.

“fine — what’s wrong with you?” he corrects himself bluntly, crossing his arms. your eyes follow him as he takes a seat beside you, and you internally sigh, thinking about how you’ve left your three students to perish under the sun.

you wave a hand dismissively, "nothing.”

“aw, c’mon,” satoru drawls, and you have half a mind to complain when he sprawls himself over your lap, his eyewear pushed upwards and off his face as he looks up at you. the blue twinkles, even under the fluorescent lighting. “you’ve never been a good liar.”

“okay, now that’s a lie. a bad one.” you scoff, poking his nose. “i’m a talented actress. oscar worthy.”

he playfully winces, narrowing his eyes at you. “no one’s ever been honest with you before, huh?”

“who needs opinions?” you roll your eyes, nudging his head softly. “it’s all about self-love now.”

“yeah, yeah,” satoru whistles, peering up from one eye, the other closed as he visibly relaxes against you. “see how far that takes you.”

you gasp dramatically, “mean.”

the corner of his lips quirks up, and his familiar smirk returns.

banter was natural with satoru. it was hard to take anything seriously with him around.

he brings joy in mundaneness.

“you shouldn’t trust megumi, y’know.”

confused, you pause, looking at him questionably.

“why?” you ask, and you’re internally conflicted as you attempt to recall every recent memory in your head that’s a classified secret. or, something you’ve generally told megumi as of late. nothing comes to mind.

“dunno. he told me something was wrong with you when i walked past him right now.”

your eyes widen, and you groan, head falling back against the couch’s soft exterior.

traitor.

“so,” satoru continues, and his voice is softer, a little more serious. “really — what’s wrong?”

it’s always been pointless to beat around the bush with satoru. he’s impatient, immature, and wonderful. a bad mix that makes you wonder how it’s even possible that he’s generally likable.

“nothing.” you emphasize, rubbing your head in slight annoyance. “he’s making it up.”

you rather not have this conversation. not while the air is half-hearted, and everything has been steady. but he’s right there. and it might not hurt as much as you think it will.

satoru gawks, mouth open, before poking you harshly. “now you’re calling our son a liar? low blow.”

you huff, “he went lower by betraying me.”

a beat of silence.

“so he was right?” satoru blinks, and he’s sitting up hesitantly, awaiting your voice, or a movement. anything to confirm.

“will you leave me alone if i say no?”

“no? you just admitted he wasn’t lying.”

“oh. yeah.”

you’re smiling lightly, faintly awful because you’re not too sure how wise you’re being. maybe this was only the mature option.

“um… i was just thinking. about him.”

you hadn’t really spoken much about last december. there was no tension or anything — it was just a touchy subject for the both of you.

satoru had more right to be bothered.

you expect his expression to drop — for it to grow uncomfortably quiet, leaving you to voice a regretful apology. you’ve rarely seen satoru break. his joyous front is him in natural form. sorrow doesn’t look right on his face.

he’s only been at his worse around you. and that’s a fact that binds you for life, as dismissive as you two seem to act about it.

angels carry weights off your shoulders, and satoru smiles a little. albeit, visibly bittersweet, but a smile.

“we do that a lot, don’t we?”

he’s stupid, annoying, and infuriating when he looks at you like that. as if you two are similar, and he knows how to ice the bruises on your back.

(he does.)

geto suguru is an enigma. is, because even in death, he’s found a way to stay alive. he lives in memories; in thoughts that keep both of you awake at night.

“i guess i just …” you trail off, staring at the floor. you’d be okay with living the rest of your life by satoru’s side. he’s peace, and he knows you tenderly.

you exhale, a small bitter chuckle leaving your lips.

“i don’t know what to do with all the love i have for him.” you admit, arms laying flat as you shrug with a despaired smile that makes satoru feel a little hollow. your hands flow freely, motioning for a few moments before resting back in your lap. “i don’t know where to put it.”

you haven’t known in years. it’s bundled up, suffocating your insides and exhausting your soul. he’s too well tangled with it.

a lot was left unsaid.

answers you crave, questions that will forever follow.

“i’ll take it.”

satoru grins, and you have to bite back a smile from how infectious his expression is. it radiates sunshine.

you feel his warm hands cup over yours, and he gently rubs across your knuckles with his thumbs, soothing that isolating cold. “you can give it to all of us, actually. but more for me.”

he’s silly, and he’s everything and more.

you wonder if you would’ve made it through without him. he’s impacted your life so heavily, you can’t imagine a world void of his presence.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you mumble, smile ever-so-visible as you playfully nudge him. satoru nods feverishly.

“i’d adore it.” he’s beaming like the cheshire cat, and your expression falls flat as you await whatever idiotic words would flow out of his mouth next. he brings a finger to his chin and hums.

“you know what, though? maybe give some extra to megumi. but i’m not really sure any love could save that kid. not even a mother’s. he's creepy, i'm telling you-“

“satoru.”

he innocently smiles, eyes closed. “just a suggestion.”

you playfully roll your eyes.

it’s all romanticism until it truly hurts. love seems so small, so trivial, when you’re not being affected.

satoru hides his grief better than you ever could. he copes uniquely, and you suppose his way may even help you a little.

they should invent a healing that is linear, you think. so you can’t fall behind, and you can be all-smiles too.

but you’re close enough.

just the right amount, actually.

[pixiemunsons]

baby, baby, baby (sh)

steve's always discovering new things about himself, usually with your help

breeding kink!!! i can't state enough if this isn't ur thing click off because that's all it is. unprotected sex, p in v (f! reader), fingering, discussion of babies and breeding, hint of jancy, rough-ish sex, bit of misogyny surrounding birth control (reader goes on the pill.) one use of the word daddy during sex but not rly daddy kink. no use of y/n, no spoilers, no reader description. steve’s into cringy pet names i don’t make the rules (2.2k words)

a/n; a really lovely reader made it clear to me that some of my language wasn’t POC or plus size friendly. this absolutely wasn’t my intention and i’ve edited this language out to ensure that this is a fic for anyone, as intended. pls let me know if i do make any mistakes like this - being exclusive is absolutely not something i ever intend to be. thank you angels<3

it had started growing in him one day, and he hadn’t felt the end of it since.

a sort of weird, deep urge he felt in his bones, gnawing at him from the inside out and churning his brain and boiling his guts. if he hadn’t known better, he might have called it animalistic. neanderthal. his most base instinct. for months, he hadn’t been able to think about anything else. twisting his mind and driving him crazy.

steve harrington wanted to fuck you full of his babies.

you hadn’t even known you were doing it. how could you? you knew he wanted kids, and a lot of them, but it felt miles off in your mind. when he told you about you and the six kiddos and the camper van, you thought he meant five, maybe even ten years off. so you’d thought nothing of it when your friend liz had asked to come over for a coffee with her almost brand-new baby and you’d spent the afternoon playing with her in front of steve. 

he’d seemed a bit more tense than usual, and you thought maybe he was uncomfortable around the baby. you knew he had a relatively small, relatively disconnected family, and the last kid born was more than ten years ago, so he’d never really even been around infants. he seemed to be watching intently as you picked her up, smoothing her tufts of hair back and nuzzling your nose into her hair to absorb her uniquely baby smell. you’d never brought it up though, never thinking much of it. until it started happening more.

you’d see a toddler sticking their tongue out at the grocery store and stick yours back before steve would half drag you away by the arm. you’d mention your hairdresser’s imminent due date, and he’d find a way to change the topic. hell, you’d cooed over the baby in look who’s talking one time and he’d switched the channels, claiming he hated john travolta even though you’d watched saturday night fever with him at least four times. you were starting to get confused. the two of you had talked about kids; why was it becoming such a problem now?

───

‘i got on the pill, y’don’t have to bother with a condom.’

steve stopped stock still. in seven years, he’d never been able to go without. shitty blue state indiana had made contraception for unmarried women a fucking nightmare, and while he really wanted to marry you eventually, he wasn’t about to do it just so he could go raw. steve’d half-hoped he wouldn’t be able to until you were married; he didn’t know what he was capable of if you let him do that to you. but you’d sprung it on him. while you were naked under him and he was halfway to the bedside table, you’d laid a small hand on his arm and looked up at him with that expression on your face he loved so much and stuck out your bottom lip. he’d never said no to you before. how could he ever start now?

‘a-are you sure? y’know i don’t mind, sweetness, i’m happy to wear one.’ he was frowning now, deep lines etching the ordinarily soft skin of his forehead, and you reached a hand up to smooth out the creases.

‘kinda thought you’d be a bit more excited than this, honey.’ you were half-smiling, half-worried, head tilted as you observed steve. you’d known him for fifteen years, been dating him almost half as long. knew him like the back of your hand, knew when he was worried about something, when something was playing on his mind and he just couldn’t shrug it off. he shook his head vehemently, stroking your face with a shaky hand.

’s’not that, babe. i’m really excited, like, really excited. didn’t think we’d be able to do this until- well…’ he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your bare shoulder in a feeble attempt to hide his reddening face from your eyesight.

you sat up a little then, peering down at him. the pill wasn’t even something you’d thought much of until nancy had told you all about it, hush hush over a coffee.

‘it’s changed my life, honestly. everything’s more… regular, and well, you know…’ you’d raised your eyebrows at her to hasten her explanation and she’d blushed bright red and hidden behind her hair when she whispered ‘jonathan loves being able to, like… y’know, do it inside. everything’s so much better in the bedroom.’ 

you’d left your lunch date hot under the collar, and almost sprinted straight to your family doctor. the idea of being so intimate, so close to steve for the first time ever without having to worry about the consequences excited you.

‘until what, stevie? we can carry on using a condom if you w-‘ steve’s eyes shot open, shaking his head wildly until his hair bounced.

‘no! no, i just.’ he cleared his throat, itching the back of his neck nervously.

‘i’m worried if we do it without, i won’t be able to hold back. the idea of doing that to you, of cumming inside you… it makes me so hard i can’t think.’

his confession left your mouth open and mind whirring, thinking back to the last few months and the way he’d been acting around you and babies and all of a sudden, everything clicked.

‘stevie,’ you cooed, smirking at the expression on his face. ‘you wanna get me pregnant, don’t you?’

a guttural groan broke free from his throat and he lunged forward like a man possessed, capturing your lips with a ferocious heat that had you moaning into his mouth. large, rough hands gripped your stomach, your hips, and squeezed so tight you groaned. steve took his chance, tongue surging into your mouth and licking the top of your mouth, the back of your teeth. he pushed himself up so he was kneeling above you, manhandling you up so you were facing him, knees touching.

‘y’can’t say that to me, baby,’ he looked frantic, still kissing you between words. ‘god, you’re so… so fuckin’… h christ, can’t believe you said that.’ your mind was reeling, all consumed with the idea of it. 

‘i’d be lying if i said the thought of trying for a baby with you wasn’t on my mind recently, stevie.’ you looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and his fingers dug into your flesh so hard you were sure there’d be bruises the next morning. ‘when liz came over with the baby, y’have no idea how much i wished she was ours.’

steve was totally fucked.

he couldn’t get his breathing under control listening to talking about carrying his babies, and his head was swimming in pictures; you, lying on the beach in a bikini with a cute bump. lying on your front cautiously while steve rubbed your tired back muscles. tying your shoes for you ‘cuz you couldn’t reach over your swollen tummy. most of all though, he couldn’t stop imagining the sight of his cum seeping out from your pretty little pussy, your hips propped up on a pillow, hoping it’d take.

‘think we should?’ he spoke before he could even think about it, and he almost apologised. almost. because when he looked down at your face, instead of seeing shock or disgust, you were fucking smirking up at him. a manicured nail traced its way up through his chest hair, the other hand gripping the back of his neck, and steve felt lightheaded.

‘you gotta be off the pill at least a week before it stops working, you know.’ you cocked your head to the side. ‘doesn’t mean we can’t start practising though.’

steve helped you onto your knees so you were face down, ass up. his favourite, especially when he wanted to go a bit harder, a bit rougher, and the anticipation sent shivers down your spine. behind you, the bed shifted, and the distinctive sound of elastic cracking skin rang out from behind you as steve shed his boxers, the final (and only) barrier left between the two of you.

‘you want me to lube up, baby? i’d ask you to do it with your mouth, but i think i’d bust.’ you laughed together and he grabbed your left hand, intertwining your fingers. no matter what, steve never made you doubt how much he loved you, and small moments of intimacy like this always made you wanna cry every time.

‘just a bit, babe, ‘m ready for you,’ you whined your hips back into him, ass brushing his hairy thighs, and he groaned at the trail of slick you left against his hot skin. reaching into the drawer and, for the first time, straight past the open box of johnnies, steve grabbed the half-empty bottle of lube that lived there. you could hear him squirting it into his hand, slathering it all over his thick cock, all the while muttering away almost mindlessly.

‘you’re gonna be such a good mommy, honey, s’ good for me and our baby. so full of our children, so beautiful and round for me, gonna look after you. gonna be the most gorgeous little family, sweetness.’ he reached down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

‘baby, i really need to just fuck you full,’ he whispered, and you looked over your shoulder at him. there was an almost feral gleam in his eyes, and you swallowed thickly. he pushed two long fingers into you, whining when he found you were already soaking wet and more than ready to take him. you keened your hips back again, pleading, pretty eyelashes fluttering.

‘take me, steve.’

he was up to the base by the time you’d taken a breath, heavy balls resting at the curve of your thighs and ass, and the sensation was like nothing either of you had known before. you could feel every ridge, every vein pumping through his cock, and he felt so warm in you it could have almost been too much. steve had never felt anything so hot, so tight, so unbelievably natural in his whole life, and he had to stop still as soon as he was balls deep lest he cum in seconds. 

‘oh fuck,’ he was groaning behind you, legs trapping the bottom half of your body to the bed in an attempt to stop you squirming. ‘this is- jesus christ, this is something else, baby.’ under him, you were desperately trying not to rock your hips back into steve’s. he was so heavy and hard inside you, twitching and leaking precum already and he hadn’t even moved, hadn’t even started to fill you up.

steve’s hips pulled back slowly, leaving just the head still wrapped in you, before plunging back in and starting up a brutal pace. his hands were gripping at your pelvis and your head was buried in the pillow at the head of your bed, fingers reaching behind you to intertwine with his own against the fat of your hips. he thrust particularly hard into one spot that had your mind reeling, almost screaming his name into the pillow and pulling forward from the pleasure of it all. steve chased you, the front of his thighs almost stuck to the back of yours with sweat. by now, he was barely even pulling out, just chasing his own thrusts deep within you as he panted above you, sloppy kisses pressed into the skin at the back of your neck. skilled fingers reached around to your clit, rubbing it in that way only steve ever managed to do it, and your legs felt like jelly under you. if it wasn’t for the way he pressed right up against your hips, you’d be on your front by now, crushed under his weight into the bed.

‘’m really, really close, baby, fuck. c’mon sweetness,’ he was rambling behind you, hips working even quicker to turn you to goo under him, melted into the mattress and taking what he gave you. you could feel it building deep in your stomach, and you just needed something else, something to push you over the edge-

‘cum for me, let’s make me a daddy,’ steve was crying out and you were cumming, thighs clenching and back arching, screams buried into the pillow and teeth clenched so hard your jaw popped. steve wasn’t long behind you; the way you gushed when you came, the vice-like grip on his leaking cock? it was all too much, and for the first time, steve harrington came inside the love of his life, hot and gasping and flashes of you with a baby bump running through his mind. carefully, gently, he pulled out, cock softening against his thigh and then growing half hard again. your pussy was swollen, his cum leaking out of your hole. unthinking, steve reached up to push it back in with two fingers, rubbing your ass with the other hand when you flinched away from the stimulation.

‘sorry, baby, just gotta make sure it takes.’

you rolled onto your back, and he couldn’t help but smile at the way you rolled your eyes at him.

‘told you stevie, gonna be at least a week until i’m all fertile and shit again.’

he flopped on top of you, grinning.

‘i guess we’re gonna have to practise over,’ a kiss to your cheek.

‘and over.’ your shoulder.

‘and over.’ your nose.

‘and over again.’ finally, your lips. ‘i love you.’

[babydollmarauders]

CLUMSY — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: quinn and luke realize how clumsy y/n is after noticing how often jack unconsciously keeps her from harm

notes: y/n is written sensitive and clumsy! also, i wrote this on saturday to have something to post this week while i’m unable to write <3

i’ve met my boyfriends family on numerous occasions since we started dating in october. mostly through quick trips such as Quinn coming into town for a game against the Devils and whatnot, but this is my first time spending an elongated amount of time with them and i have this irrational fear that they’ll dislike me.

Jack has assured me multiple times since we’ve arrived at the lake house for the summer that i have no reason to worry, but it’s been four days and i still feel like they’re forming their opinions on me. so, i’ve taken it upon myself to do whatever i can in order to get them to like me; including my current task of baking cookies.

“you know they already love you, right?” Jack asks, standing at the counter beside me, observing as i mix the dry ingredients into a bowl. “you don’t need to bake them cookies.”

“are you saying you don’t want my sea salt chocolate chip cookies?” i keep focused on the task at hand, my sight never leaving the measuring cup as i scoop the flour into the bowl.

“now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” a hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he maneuvers himself behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist as he clings himself to me, his cheek resting pressed against my shoulder blade. “i definitely want your cookies. i’m just saying that my brothers don’t need them.”

i giggle as his fingers tickle at the bits of my sides where my shirt has risen, arching my back to try and escape his hands. Jack groans as i break free from his grip, but i assume it’s mostly due to his brothers entering the kitchen.

“ooh, what are you making?” Luke wonders, coming to a stop on the opposite side of the counter.

“cookies!” i grin, finally looking up as i finish the dry ingredients.

“yum.” Quinn chimes in, sidling into the spot beside Luke. he peers into the bowl and his brows furrow slightly. “y/n, that’s just powder?”

i bark out a laugh at the clueless boy.

“Quinny, you have to mix the dry ingredients first. then the wet ingredients such as eggs, butter and vanilla. and then you mix them both together to form the dough.” i explain. i scan the countertop, making sure i have each item needed for the next step. “i need another bowl.”

i bend down, opening the lower cupboard and reaching for the metal mixing bowl inside.

“Trevor texted me this morning.” i hear Jack inform the boys.

“yeah? when’s he coming up?” Quinn asks.

“in two weeks. but Alex is getting here tomorrow.” Jack says. i shut the cupboard door, stretching my legs to rise back up from my position. my head bumps Jack’s hand, wrapped around the lip of the counter above where i was bent.

my left hand rubs the top of the back of my head super quick as i set the mixing bowl on the counter. i glance back up as Luke and Quinn share an amused look and my face scrunches in confusion.

what did i miss?

**

Jack’s left arm rests on my shoulders, my face half buried into his chest as he scrolls on his phone. Quinn and Luke sit in armchairs on opposite sides of the couch as Alex sits on the opposite side of Jack. a movie plays on the tv, but i’m momentarily distracted by Ellen walking past the back of the couch, calling out a goodnight.

“goodnight El!” i call back as she makes her way to the stairs, the boys all muttering their own goodnight’s.

“brunch tomorrow, while the boys golf?” she asks, confirming our plans. i nod and she grins, blowing a kiss towards the group of us as she finally walks up the stairs.

“you guys are going to brunch tomorrow? without us?!” Luke asks, his hand coming up to his chest in mock offense.

“you guys are going golfing tomorrow, without us! it’s only fair.” i laugh and Alex chuckles.

“y/n/n, you don’t even like golf. you said it’s boring and called it ‘watered down hockey’.” Alex points out as i burrow back into Jack’s side.

“shh, i’m watching the movie.” i shush him, making the boys laugh. Jack turns back to his phone and i watch through one peeked open eye as he double taps on his teammate’s most recent instagram post before typing out some nonsense comment that i’ll never understand.

pulling back, i lock my eyes on the remote on the coffee table. sliding forward some, i lean, stretching my fingertips out to try and grab it. finally getting ahold of it, i go to lean back, wobbling forward and accepting my fate. i brace myself to fall before feeling a hand grab onto the back of my shirt. yanking me back, Jack pulls me back into his side, his eyes still glued to his phone. i heave out a small relieved sigh as i press a kiss to his chest before turning the volume up on the tv.

i glance around the living room to the other boys, gauging how interested they are in the movie, but Luke and Quinn are exchanging a look. Luke biting back a smile as Quinn smirks.

what did i miss this time?

**

with the boys friends all finally arriving, the lake house has become much too crowded to hang out inside. so instead we’re all outside, gathered around a fire that was once blazing but now dwindling. my boyfriend jokes around with Cole and Trevor, Luke speaking with his University of Michigan teammates, Ethan and Dylan, and lastly Quinn sits sipping a beer as he chats with Alex and the Tkachuk’s.

making myself scarce in order to not cling to my boyfriends side as he tries to enjoy himself, i text with my own friends from back in New Jersey as i balance on the edge of the brick fire pit, circling it as i type.

“be careful, babe.” Jack warns me, and i grin and throw him a thumbs up. he barely gives me a second glance before Trevor takes up his attention, reciting a story of something that happened to he and his friend Jamie back in California.

i continue pacing around on the elevated bricks, typing a long winded message to Leah, explaining why she shouldn’t call her ex. as i pass by my boyfriend once more, i’m not paying as close attention as i probably should be, my foot getting a little too close to the inner edge as i start to slip.

a hand grips my elbow, pulling me back to a standing position before i can fall into the fire and i look over to see Jack, his attention still on Trevor and his hand wrapped around my arm as he nods his head at his friend while he continues ranting. i give a light pat to Jack’s shoulder to let him know i’m fine and he releases his grip.

slipping my phone into my pocket, i continue my journey around the fire pit again, this time with more of my focus going into keeping upright. passing Luke, i see him looking away from his friends, and i follow his line of sight to his brother, Quinn looking right back at him. both wear an entertained appearance and i look around to see if i can find what they’re smiling about but come up empty-handed.

why do i keep missing these things?

**

with today being one of the hottest days of the summer, we’re all crowded on the boat. most of the group lounges around conversing with one another, Luke currently taking his turn wakesurfing as music blares from Quinn’s bluetooth speaker.

i’m sat in Jack’s lap, rubbing my third layer of sunscreen on my legs and the tops of my feet.

“babe, i think you’ve got enough.” Jack laughs, his hands grip my waist to keep me from falling as i’m leaned forward.

“i just wanna make sure. the UV index is super high today and you know how easily i burn.” i tell him, sitting back upright as i flip the cap of the sunscreen closed once more.

“i know, sugar. but we’ve only been out here for two hours and that’s your third time applying it. i think you’re okay for a while.” he takes the lotion from my hands, handing the bottle over to Cole. “put that in the bag next to you, eh?”

Cole nods, placing the sunscreen into the waterproof zip up bag i brought on the boat.

“y/n/n! c’mere!” Luke shouts, making me untangle myself from Jack. i rise to my feet, shuffling over to the back of the boat and leaning over to get closer in order to hear him better.

“you gonna let her get that close to the edge, Rowdy?” Quinn questions, making the boys laugh.

“what?” Jack asks. “what do you mean?”

“she’s a bit clumsy, is she not? we’ve noticed you all summer, keeping her from hurting herself.” Quinn replies through chuckles. even Alex, who drives the boat barks out a laugh.

“wait, when did i do that?” Jack wonders.

“all the time! you weren’t even paying attention when you did it!” Luke shouts and i stick my tongue out at him before turning to observe the boys.

“there was the first time Luke and i noticed it, when you wrapped your hand over the counter to make sure she didn’t hit her head. and you were right to do so because she bumped it right on your hand.” Quinn explains.

“or when she was reaching off the couch to grab the remote and you caught her by her shirt to keep her from falling. and you didn’t even look up from your phone as you did it!” Luke says as he climbs back on the boat.

“or how about when she was balancing on the fire pit and you caught her by the arm to keep her from falling straight into the fire. while you kept all your attention on Trevor. didn’t even look, you just reached a hand out and grabbed her.” Quinn provides another example. “i can go on.”

“i didn’t even realize i was doing all that.” Jack shrugs, glancing towards me. “i guess it’s just unconscious reaction. i’ve gotten used to it by now.”

“i’m not clumsy.” i pout, crossing my arms over my chest.

“it’s okay, it’s not necessarily a bad thing!” Trevor attempts to comfort me. i give him a side-eye, making my way over to Jack. but before i can sit in his lap, i slip. Jack’s arms wrap around my waist to keep me from dropping to the floor, pulling me down onto his thighs instead.

“you are pretty clumsy, babe.” one of Jack’s arms stays planted across my waist, holding me to him as his index finger pushes my chin up so i’m looking up at him. “but, it’s adorable.”

i bury my face in his chest out of embarrassment. i didn’t think i was clumsy. i mean, i know i’ve always been a bit accident prone; broken glasses, falling a bit more than my friends. but i didn’t think i was clumsy.

“it’s nothing to be ashamed of, y/n.” Quinn tells me. Jack’s hand trails up and down my back as he whispers reassurances in my ear.

“yeah, we didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything.” Luke pipes up once more, his voice seeping with regret.

“that’s why you kept looking at each other all the time.” my words are muffled by Jack’s chest, but by the way that Jack coos as he places a kiss on the top of my head, i know they heard them. “you were laughing at me.”

“we weren’t. i swear we weren’t.” Quinn’s voice is closer now, and i feel another hand touch my back. “we were laughing with you. we just thought it was funny that Jack didn’t even notice when he was doing it.”

“honest?” i question.

“honest. i promise.” my head rises at Luke’s voice, closer now as well. his hand comes up to rest on my knee and i look over to see him squatted down beside Jack and i, Quinn sitting next to us.

“i didn’t realize i was clumsy.” i confess. “i just thought it was normal.”

“i gotta say, you’re definitely the first girlfriend i’ve ever had to pull away from falling into an actual fire.” Jack chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “but i wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“really?”

“really. i love you. clumsiness and all.” he tells me. his grip gets tighter around me and i crane my neck to crash my lips into his.

“ugh, gross!” Trevor exclaims. Jack pulls back, leaning his forehead against mine.

“shut up, Z.” he grins, pulling me into one more kiss. “now, you ready to learn how to wakesurf?”

“yeah, no. even before i knew i was considered clumsy, i knew i wasn’t going out there. i’ll fall straight on my face, Jacky. i mean seriously, i’m a clutz!”

[rileyslibrary]

hello! recently my cat went missing (but i luckily got him back!) and i never felt so hopeless. I had to search for him while it was raining, put up missing posters and honestly, the whole thing looked like a rlly sad movie 💀💀 so why not giving you a hint of a request with reader x ghost, where he helps reader find their missing cat? Or comfort them? I love to imagine Simon dealing with rather normal life challenges instead of life threatening ones for once <3 i love your writing so much, your whole blog is like a gold mine ♥️

Oh, nonny, nonny, nonny. As soon as I read “my cat went missing”, I went into panic mode and completely disregarded the brackets saying that you found the little rascal. You said Ghost x Reader instead of Simon x Reader, so how about we change the request a little bit? Let’s say the military base has adopted the cat, and reader has a special bond with it.

———————————————————————

You’re down on all fours, peering under the tanks in the garage.

“Pspspspspsps,” you murmur.

“He’s not here.” Ghost’s voice echoes through the vast space.

You glance at his feet from under a tank; he’s pacing around and knocking on vehicles as if that’s the right approach to attract a cat.

“Can you stop that?” you ask, frustrated. “He won’t come out if you keep making loud noises.”

Ghost stops, and you see his feet turning towards your voice. His left foot crosses over the right, and you hear a thud as he leans against one of the trucks.

“Cat’s not here,” he repeats.

“The cat has a name, you know.”

He scoffs. “What’s his name again?”

“Baba,” you remind him.

“Baba,” Ghost repeats, then shouts at the top of his lungs, “OI, BABA! C’MERE YA FUCKER!”

You immediately spring up from your position and rush towards him. You place your index finger on your lips and put your other hand on his mask, where his mouth is supposed to be.

“Ssshut your mouth, Lieutenant.”

“What?” he asks, his voice muffled by your hand. “He’s not here anyway.”

“How do you know?” you inquire and put your hands on your hips.

“Because,” he shrugs and looks around, “there’s nothing interesting for a cat here.”

“Cats love to get into car engines,” you counter.

“When it’s cold, they do,” he replies. “But it’s a thousand degrees out there.”

You sigh and start pacing around, nervously biting your nails.

“What if he’s thirsty with all this heat?” You cry. “What if he went elsewhere to find water and can’t find his way back?”

Ghost straightens up from leaning on the truck. “They always put fresh water out for him,” he reassures you. “There’s no way he wandered off to find somewhere else.”

You turn to look at him with watery eyes, and he meets your gaze.

“It’s been two days, Ghost.”

He tilts his head to the side and glances over his shoulder. “I know,” he murmurs, scratching his cheek over his mask.

You lean on a car, observing him as he walks amidst the vehicles in the garage. He takes a pack of treats from the front pocket of his tactical vest and starts shaking it under the cars, trying to coax Baba out of hiding, threatening that he won’t give him any if he doesn’t “surrender.”

“You like him, don’t you?” you ask him.

He stands up straight and cups his ear. “What?”

“I said you like Baba,” you repeat, this time louder.

“I like my living quarters to be mice-free; that’s what I like,” he mumbles.

“Oh yeah,” you tease, “is that why you have a bag of treats on you?”

He looks at the bag and rotates it as if it had magically teleported into his hand.

“Ah!” he exclaims. “Well, that... that cat...” he says, snapping his fingers.

“Baba.” You remind him, trying to hide your smile.

“Right; Baba likes treats, apparently.” He replies and lowers his voice, “Unfortunately, these are salmon, and he doesn’t like salmon, or so I heard, but that’s all they had at the store today.”

“So you like Baba,” you state, and your smile widens.

He mutters an angry “whatever” under his breath, dismisses you, and retreats deeper into the garage to continue his investigation.

You and Ghost comb through every nook and cranny for the rest of the day, checking behind equipment, under parked vehicles, and calling out Baba’s name. Unfortunately, there’s no sign of him.

As you continue the search, you feel like giving up and occasionally break down in tears. On the other hand, Ghost refuses to show any signs of worry; his approach is pragmatic. He knows crying won’t bring Baba back, so he does his best to keep you grounded and focused on the search. Although frustrated by the lack of progress, he channels the energy into brainstorming new strategies, such as placing feeding stations around the base and instructing whoever is on patrol that night to check the stations for any signs of Baba.

Once he finishes the announcement, he shuts off the comms and turns to you.

“Do you know if Baba is neutered by any chance?” He asks.

“I don’t think he is,” you reply, furrowing your eyebrows. “He’s impossible to be captured, let alone placed in a cage and driven to the vet. Usually, the vet comes on base to give him his shots.”

He nods and takes a few seconds to process the information.

“Well,” he says, tilting his head, “that might explain why he’s been missing for a while.”

“You mean…”

He nods again and raises his hands. “Maybe Baba went to find some-”

“Nuh-uh.” You warn him, showing him your palm. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“It’s a possibility,” he says, shrugging. “If he’s not neutered, he could be out and about, following his instincts.”

You sigh and lower your head. You rub the back of your neck and turn to look at him.

“I just want to find him,” you whisper.

“I know,” he replies. “Me too.”

“You do?”

“He’s good for pest control.” He states and gestures with his head towards you. “And if that makes you stop crying every quarter of an hour, so be it.”

You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles. He pats your head and ruffles your hair.

“Don’t worry,” he says gently. “Either we find him, or he’ll return from wherever he’s gone.”

“What if we don’t find him, though?” You ask, “Or what if he doesn’t come back?”

“Baba always comes back.” He comforts you. “In the meantime, we’ll keep making announcements through the comms and print some posters to disseminate around the base.”

“I don’t have good pictures of Baba for the posters,” you say. “He never stays still.”

“That’s alright,” he replies. “I have a couple where he looks dapper.”

———————————————————————

Baba came back the next day. His fur was a tangled mess, covered in foxtails and burrs, and one of his ears was bleeding, so you summoned the vet to tend to his wounds. The mystery of where he had ventured off to and what he did there remained unsolved. Ghost claims he must have gone on a mission by the looks of him. You were both happy he was back, although the Lieutenant was slightly more pleased, knowing how much it meant to you to have Baba back.

[chvoswxtch]

hi um so this is like my first time making a request, like ever. I’m not even sure if this is where I’m supposed to put a request. So I’m really nervous but this idea has been in my head for weeks and I need it to be brought to life? Idk but can I request Matt Murdock with a sort of shy reader? Where he tells her about his abilities and daredevil and everything (established relationship) and she doesn’t really care as long as he’s safe but she has something in her mind and he notices and keeps asking and basically she has a question about his senses, specifically his taste and idk if you know but Matt can canonically know ALL of the ingredients of anything just from a taste and she basically wants to make him taste a bunch of stuff and tell her the ingredients of it so she can make them? I know this is probably WAY too specific so feel free to completely ignore this, I just wanted to get it out.

hi my darling!

so I actually read this request right before going to the grocery store, and while I was looking through produce, it made me think about how matt would absolutely know which produce was the freshest and which ones to avoid. I kinda mixed that in with your idea about being able to tell exactly what ingredients were in something, and I hope this is close to what you were looking for! <3

warnings: tooth rotting fluff and matt being a lil shit word count: 1.3k

lemons.

“Not that one.”

You hand instantly stilled over a lemon that your fingertips had already grazed over. Glancing at Matt over your shoulder, a crease formed between your brows while you looked back down at it.

“What do you mean? This one is perfect-”

“It’s not ripe enough.”

“But…it’s so yellow, like sunshine yellow.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Matt’s lips when he felt the way your own pursed into a bit of a confused pout. It was something you always did when you were intensely focused on something, and he found it endearing. Reaching his hand out, he used the pad of his thumb to smooth away the furrow that had creased in the middle of your forehead, and his soft smile curled up into a light smirk catching the flush of heat that immediately coursed through the tops of your cheeks.

“Well, I’m sure it’s a very pretty lemon, but it doesn’t taste ripe.”

Ever since Matt had told you the truth about his vigilante identity and his abilities, you’d had countless questions. You wouldn’t voice them at first, almost as if you were afraid to cross some invisible boundary that Matt might have, but he knew you, and he knew how to dismantle that shy exterior of yours. From the moment the two of you first met, you had been overly polite and accommodating about his disability, but not in a way that made him uncomfortable. You didn’t walk on eggshells around him or call any extra attention to his blindness. In fact, the way you interacted with him was so seamless, it was almost like it came second nature.

If you guys were grabbing coffee with Karen and Foggy, you would automatically place the raw sugar packets within his reach because you knew he preferred it to the artificial sweeteners. If the four of you went to check out a new lunch spot, you always called ahead to check if they had a menu in braille and made sure Matt was given one. There were so many little things you did to make him feel included and normal. It was part of why he fell so hard for you.

You never asked about the origin of his blindness, and even after he opened up and told you about his accident, you were reserved with your questions. He could tell you were curious, and he wanted you to ask. He wanted you to know things about him. You were a bit of a wallflower, and Matt could always feel you silently observing him, but he wanted you to understand him. He quickly realized he would have to flat out grant you permission to be nosey, and so he did.

Out of everyone he had revealed his Daredevil secret to, you had taken it the best. He didn’t know if he would ever get over the surprise of just how well you handled it. You didn’t get angry or yell at him. You didn’t call him a liar or a traitor, or ask him if he was faking his blindness; all reactions he expected. You just sat there in pure confusion, and you were silent for so long, Matt was panicked that he’d sent you into a state of shock. When it finally settled in that it wasn’t a joke, your brows knit together, and Matt could feel the way your face contorted into an expression of irritation when you flat out asked him if he was crazy. The memory of that night never failed to make him smile.

“Um…well, I mean…not in the traditional sense-”

“Matthew, what the hell are you thinking running around on rooftops, going after guys with guns and knives with…sticks? How do you even do that?”

“They’re batons, actually. Look it’s hard to explain, but I have heightened senses that help me-”

“Are those super senses going to keep you out of prison? Because that’s where you’re going if you get caught. What was the point of going hundreds of thousands of dollars into debt for law school if you were just going to wind up a prison cell for doing backflips off buildings in your underwear?”

“Heightened senses. And it’s not underwear. Underwear is comfortable.”

There hadn’t been a hint of anger in your voice. Annoyance, sure, but mainly concern. All you wanted was for Matt to be safe, and he did his best to assure you that he would be. Matt went into as much detail as he could to help you understand his abilities, and the more comfortable you got with asking him things, the more you learned.

Like how he could tell exactly what ingredients were in the lemon bread at the cafe down the street from your apartment that you loved so much, which was currently the reason behind your little trip to the store at the moment. All it took was one bite of the bread, and he knew exactly how to replicate it.

Apparently he could also tell when lemons were at their peak.

Reaching into the pile of lemons, Matt grasped the one that was in perfect condition to him and held it out towards you. Taking the lemon in your hand, you gave it a light squeeze, noticing that it was firm to the touch but easily gave into the gentle force of your fingers testing its density. 

“Feel the rind.”

Following Matt’s instructions, you brushed your thumb along the bright yellow rind. It was smooth to the touch, and somewhat glossy as it nearly reflected the brightness of the overhead lighting in the grocery store. 

“It’s shiny.”

Matt chuckled at your response and lightly nodded his chin in your direction.

“What else?”

“It’s smooth.”

“It’s perfectly ripe. The zest on this one is the freshest. It has the most flavor, and the right amount of juice.”

Arching one of your brows, you stared up at Matt curiously while still faintly squeezing the lemon in your hand.

“You can tell how much juice is in this just by touching it?”

A grin stretched across Matt’s lips, showcasing his dazzling teeth and causing indents to appear in his cheeks. His thick brows rose slightly above the rim of his crimson glasses.

“Are you doubting me, sweetheart?”

“No I’m just…still trying to figure out how you do…what you do.”

A bashful twinge of heat coated your cheeks once again, and Matt thought it was adorable that you diverted your attention back to the lemon shyly to avoid his gaze even though he couldn’t see your reaction. He reached out to tenderly brush his knuckles along the warmth in your cheeks while he smiled in your direction. 

“I’ll try to do better at explaining. Now c’mon, we have more ingredients to get. You know, I think this bread is gonna turn out so well, the one at the cafe might not meet your standards anymore.”

The confidence in Matt’s voice caught your attention, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. Sometimes you forgot that your boyfriend was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that everyone was so afraid of. If only they knew that he spent his Saturdays sniffing out ingredients at the grocery store like a bloodhound to help his girlfriend recreate the recipe for her favorite lemon bread.

“You know, if you didn’t love law so much, you could’ve made out like a bandit in a baking competition.”

“Oh I would’ve won with my sob story of being a blind little Catholic orphan alone.”

“Matthew!”

Matt snickered at the disbelief in your tone, but he could also detect the way the edges of your lips twitched, like you weren’t sure if you should laugh at that or not. Snaking his arm around your waist, he pressed a light kiss to your forehead and gently nudged you in the direction towards the spice aisle.

“Come on, we need flour.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover  @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[pupkashi]

new year, new superstition

whoever said red underwear on new years brings love was onto something

a/n: happy new years [eve] !! i cannot wait to spend another year with y’all and making more silly stories that i hope u guys will enjoy :3 let me know what y’all think of this silly thing i thought of at 4 am <3

wordcount: 1,246

masterlist

you never believed in myths dealing with the new year. you never cared to run around with a suitcase or wear polka dots or to start sweeping and somehow eat twelve grapes all in under a minute.

and you most definitely never went out to buy yellow or red underwear to wear on new years.

until today, when you consciously wore your red pair of underwear, what’s the harm? it won’t do anything anyway you thought to yourself, continuing to get ready for the party your friend had invited you to.

your friends cheered as you they spotted you among the crowd of people, motioning for you to join them as they said hello, handing you a champagne glass as scooting over so you could take a seat.

after a couple minutes of talking you excuse yourself to the bathroom, hurrying as you check the time.

11:56 pm

you’re walking quickly, stopping in your tracks when you can’t find your friends.

there’s a light tap on your shoulders, “excuse me,” the voice is unfamiliar, making you turn around quickly. you’re greeted with stunning blue eyes and snowy bangs falling into them, a charming smile on the strangers face.

“hi,” you smile softly, not wanting to seem rude, “can i help you with something?” your head cocks to side a bit, confused as to why this drop dead gorgeous man was tapping you on the shoulder minutes before midnight.

“yes actually!” he grins, “see my best friend over there, thinks i have no game,” he points at the bar, you subtly glance over, seeing a man with long black sipping on a drink, observing the two of you, “he thinks i won’t be able to find someone to kiss by midnight.”

you stare at him dumbfounded, what the fuck was going on. “so you want me to..?” you trail off, staring at the much taller man as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“kiss me at midnight, yes,” he grins, “only if you want of course! if not feel free to walk away,” you weigh the pros and cons of the situation.

pro’s: you kiss a hot guy on new years, he proves he has game

con’s: ?

“yeah why not,” you laugh, “I’m y/n” you smile, the man flashes you a smile before replying, “satoru!”

the people around you begin to countdown and you step closer to satoru, giggling when his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you a bit closer. you let your arms snake around his neck.

“five! four! three-!”

“can i kiss you?” he breaths out, you nod, crashing your lips onto his as balloons fall from the ceiling, fireworks popping can be heard from outside as everyone cheers.

your lips fit together perfectly, you can taste his vanilla chapstick and the champagne he was sipping on. satoru feels like he’s on cloud nine, smiling widely when you two pull away.

“happy new year, satoru” you grin, lips still tingling as he smiles back at you.

“happy new year y/n” he replies, about to say something else when your friends find you, quickly whisking you away. you look back at him, an apologetic smile on your face as you wish your friends a happy new year.

it’s almost an hour later when you’re walking out of the building, tugging your jacket a bit closer to you when the cold breeze hits you.

“you cold?” the voice makes you stop in your tracks, a smile fighting it’s way onto your lips when you turn around, bright blue eyes meeting yours.

“aren’t you?” you reply, watching as he approaches you with a grin, he shakes his head.

“only been out here for twenty minutes” he laughs, teeth chattering a bit. the sound makes your mouth fall open, laughing softly.

“why have you been out here for twenty minutes? you don’t even have gloves on oh my god!” you squeal, instinctively taking his hands in yours, face burning when you realize how much larger his were than yours.

“didn’t wanna miss you,” he admits, cheeks even rosier than before as he looks at you, “couldn’t leave my new years kiss without getting to know them a bit more” he smiles, “especially when they’re an amazing kisser,” he teases.

you can’t help but roll your eyes, a bit embarrassed as you tug him back into the lobby of the building.

“if you wanted my number all you had to do was ask” you reply, satoru wiggles his nose a bit, smiling at you and humming.

“yeah but then i wouldn’t get to talk to you while i slowly unfreeze” there’s a flirty glint in his eyes, his gaze makes you look away for a second, flustered as you try to think of something to say back to him.

“we’ll what kind of person would i be if i left you hanging after giving you the best kiss of your life?” you laugh, watching as his smile grows even wider, giggling at your words.

you can’t help but immediately become even more attracted to him as he laughs, dimples popping out and making you swoon.

the two of you talk for a bit longer, deeming him warm enough to live before you’re scribbling your number onto his palm, kissing his cheek and waving goodbye.

you wake up the next day with a message from an unknown number:

it’s satoru :)

would you wanna get lunch sometime ? you see my best friend thinks i have no game … :3

you can’t help but laugh, biting your lip as you reply to his text,

well what kind of person would i be if i didn’t help prove him wrong :/

satoru swings his feet as he reads your reply, shoving the phone in suguru’s face, sticking his tongue out before texting you.

maybe he should be glad shoko accidentally washed his clothes with hers that one time, turning all his whites red.

he’s glad he wore that pair of white turned red pair of boxers that night, he can’t imagine a life where he didn’t have you in his arms right now, celebrating new years together once again.

it’s just the two of you in your house this year, 24 grapes in a small bowl on the table next to you, giggling softly as you cuddle together on the couch, watching the live feed of the countdown.

“kiss me at midnight? I’ve got something to prove to my best friend” he smirks, you can help but roll your eyes at him, sitting up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him gently.

“oh shut it” you smile, crashing your lips onto his as the clock strikes 12 fireworks displaying on the tv screen, lighting up the entire living room.

you pull away quickly, grabbing the bowl as the two of you scarf down the grapes, laughing when satoru almost chockes on one of them. as the final chime of the clock sounds you press a kiss to your lovers lips, both of you smiling as he chases you for one last kiss.

“happy new years sweetheart” he mumbles, grinning when you card your fingers through his hair.

“happy new years angel boy,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his dimples before landing on his lips once more.

safe to say the two of you definitely believe in the new years myths now (suguru tells satoru he should get the credit, not shoko’s terrible laundry skills).

taglist: @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[heavenlyvision]

After hell freezes over

Word count: 16k

Pairing: Bi-Han x F!Reader

This part four to my 'When hell freezes over' series, read the other parts first, linked below :3

part one, part two, part three

A/N: This got way out of hand guys, I am so sorry. Thank you so much for your patience and kindness while waiting for this update !!! I love and appreciate you all so much!!! Also: LONGEST FIC!!!!

Summary:  The cat’s out the bag, everyone knows, and now you have to have a very awkward conversation and Bi-Han isn’t around to help. When he gets back, you try to offer him space to open up to you, but you have to do the same in return. Bi-Han makes you keep your word.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst (iddy bit), soft!Bi-Han (like so soft almost ooc), mean!Bi-Han, return of Jealous!Bi-Han, (minor) handjob, face sitting, face riding, man handling, p in v sex, squirting, clit slapping, titty play, no use of y/n, I think that’s all <33

Sore doesn’t even begin to describe how your body feels today, if you thought your muscles were achy the day before then you don’t know how to explain what this feeling is. Everything is heavy, but a satisfactory kind of heaviness. The kind where you’re so sore that just laying completely still feels like you’re about to ascend into heaven.

When you wake in the morning and reach out beside you, you find the bed empty, Bi-Han’s absence making the room feel so much larger. Your heart pangs a bit at the realisation, he didn’t even wake you. That, and he still hasn’t changed your bed sheets.

Rubbing at your eyes, you try to sit upright, body aching in protest. He certainly succeeded in his goal, there is no way you can train today, not in this condition. You rest your back against the beds headboard, considering if you really need to get out of bed yet or not.

The fact that you’re still naked is one of your biggest motivations for possibly moving. Just as you decide you should get out of bed, Bi-Han slides the door of your room open and slips inside, he’s making an effort to be quiet. But as he turns around to look at you, he notices your sitting form.

“You’re up,” he states.

“Very observant of you.” You have a bothered expression on your face.

Waking up alone after expecting him to still be here has upset you, which is even more annoying, because he is not obligated to stay. The sway he has over your feelings confounds you, he is one man, and yet, so much more.

“Are you… annoyed with me?” He asks cautiously.

“No.”

He raises a brow at you, “It seems like you are.”

You huff out a sigh, “I’m trying really hard to not be, because the reason is ridiculous.”

“And what is the reason?”

“When I woke up, you were gone.” You feel pitiful but you can’t help how you feel, and he makes you feel vulnerable.

His lips turn up into an amused smile, “That’s really cute.”

You frown at him, you aren’t trying to be cute, “I don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?” He asks.

“How much I want to wake up to you in the mornings.”

His mouth twists, like he’s trying not to laugh, “Sweet girl,” he moves around the foot of the bed to stand beside you, “I went to get you some coffee.”

He lifts one of the two cups towards you, the cups you didn’t realise he was holding.

You pout a bit, feeling bad about being upset now, “That’s really thoughtful… thank you.”

Reaching for the cup, you hold it in two hands, enjoying the warmth it’s giving you. Bi-Han sits on the edge of the bed facing you. He’s watching you drink your coffee with kind eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into the lip of the mug.

He smiles into his own mug, “Don’t apologise for that,” he considers his words while he sips at his own drink, when he’s pulled away, he places the mug on the table beside your bed.

He continues to speak, “It is nice to know that you want me here with you.”

You tell him, “I always want you.”

He’s silent as he looks into your eyes, searching. You aren’t sure what he’s looking for but you’re starting to regret your words, maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same. Your propensity for being honest possibly biting you in the ass. It isn’t the first time you’ve regretted your words as soon as you’ve spoken them.

But even though you sometimes regret your words, you always mean them. Which is why Bi-Han sitting stoically in front of you and not replying is making you feel… exposed, emotionally.

Bi-Han’s hand moves to pluck your mug from your hands, and then he places it next to his own on the side table. His action confuses you, are you being punished in a really specific and odd way? You look up at him, bewilderment clear on your face.

And then he’s suddenly grabbing you and pulling you into his lap, wrapping you up in his arms. His lips pressing soft and quick kisses to your face, on your cheeks, lips, anywhere he can get to. His unexpected display of affection drags joyful giggles from you.

“Stop, stop,” you’re still laughing as you protest against him.

He does eventually pull back from you and when he does you ask, “What was that for?”

“Felt like it.” Is all he says in return.

His feelings for you run deep but his actions speak louder than words. Last night showed you that he is not eloquent in speaking his feelings, it frustrates him how he can’t seem to find the right words, but he tries and when he can’t verbalise them, he shows you. And that’s enough for you right now.

You shake your head in disbelief, “Can you put me back down, my muscles are not agreeing with movement today.”

A large, arrogant smile grows on his face at this information, “No training today?”

“Try not to gloat so much,” you bop him on the nose with one of your fingers.

“Not gonna make that promise,” he replies as he moves you back onto the bed.

His eyes trail over your bare skin, looking at all the hickeys he left behind last night. You cover yourself with the bed sheets, he is not allowed to be horny again, he might break you.

You shoot him with a pointed look, “Stop it.”

His eyes look back into yours, “I am not doing anything.”

“Mhmm,” you hum back at him.

Moving from the bed, he gets up and pulls out a shirt and some underwear for you. He places them down on the bed in front of you.

“Thank you,” you say.

He grunts in response, he’s about to turn away but your hand shoots out and tugs at his, pulling him down. When he’s close enough, you lean up to him, taking his lips in a sweet kiss. One he happily accepts, his hand coming up to gently hold the side of your face. You go to end the kiss, but he pulls your face forward, reconnecting your lips for just a moment longer.

When the kiss does end, it’s on his terms. Standing to his full height again, he moves across your room and shuffles through your belongings.

“What are you looking for?”

He continues looking inside drawers, “Sheets, I said I would change yours.”

“Linen cupboard, next to the bathroom door.”

He grunts in acknowledgement; you take the hint and move off the bed. Grabbing the clothes and heading into the bathroom, while in there you decide to shower quickly, rinsing off the prior nights activities.

When you exit the bathroom, you notice that Bi-Han has changed the sheets for you, “Thank you for changing them.”

“I don’t know why you bothered, probably gonna ruin them again soon anyways,” he shrugs at you from his position on the bed.

You shake your head at him vehemently, “Nah ah, I need to heal, or you will break me.”

He rolls his eyes at you, like you’re being so dramatic, but you’re genuinely concerned for your physical wellbeing.

Bi-Han is sitting with his back against the headboard, legs spread out length wise on the mattress. As you approach the bed you climb over to him, straddling him and hugging his upper half. His arms come around behind you, holding you close.

“This is just cruel you know,” he huffs into the top of your head.

“I don’t know what you mean, I just want a hug.”

“Mm but I can feel the warmth of your cu–”

Cutting him off you say, “–You are insatiable, truly.”

“Your fault, truly.” He retorts.

You press your face into his chest, resting your forehead against it. Your body is fully relaxed against him, savouring the closeness and enjoying the intimate moment. You think Bi-Han gives the best hugs, his embrace holds you perfectly, always making you feel so secure.

Moving your head to the side so your cheek rests on his chest, you say, “How am I going to get out of training?”

“Tell the truth,” he shrugs.

“That is an awful idea, and you know it.”

“Well, whatever you decide, it will have to be soon.”

“Not helpful,” you complain.

You can’t see it, but you just know he’s rolled his eyes at you again, “Tell them you wanna meditate or some shit, whatever it is you spend hours doing at that rock.”

“That is helpful, albeit rude,” his idea isn’t a bad one though, you could just sit at the rock, Liu Kang doesn’t mind when you train like that.

His chest rumbles with an amused sound at your complaint of his rudeness.

“Before I forget, I have a mission to go on with Kuai Liang and Tomas, I will be gone for a few days,” he mentions it flippantly.

His attitude towards telling you irks you a bit, you look him in the eyes, chin resting on his chest again, “If you ever manage to forget to tell me something like that, I will hunt you down just to give you the silent treatment.”

He has an entertained smile on his face, “Then, I will always tell you when I have to leave.”

“Good,” you state, pressing a kiss to his chest before laying back down.

You end up falling back to sleep, laying against his body. You don’t get much more sleep, unfortunately having to start the day but you appreciate the extra half an hour you do manage to get. Especially since when you do wake up, Bi-Han is still holding you.

❆˖°

You’ve not run into anyone today; you sought out Liu Kang to inform him of your decision to meditate today and then came straight to the rock. Despite actively avoiding everyone, the turtleneck you wore yesterday has made a secondary appearance today, hiding the additional hickeys bestowed upon your skin. It’s hot when Bi-Han gives you them but people seeing them is so insanely embarrassing. One wouldn’t be that bad, but you have like 20 on you right now.

The pure volume of them is what has you hiding your body, it wouldn’t even matter if everyone knew you were with Bi-Han. The idea of them seeing visual evidence of how you practically let him do to you as he pleases in the bedroom would have you dying on the spot from mortification. But, you digress, hopefully they will heal while Bi-Han is gone, and you’ll be able to stop dressing in long necked shirts. Which seems feasible until you remember that he’s probably just going to mark you up even more when he comes back. Whatever, this is a problem for future you.

Right now, you should be focusing on your breathing, which is easy enough, you didn’t realise how much you’ve missed your enlightenment rock. It gives you the space to breathe and reconnect with nature, feeling the energy move through you. Time always manages to slip away from you when you come here, too engrossed in the way you feel, the things you can sense. The Earth speaking to you, it’s soothing.

Footsteps can be felt on the Earth behind you, and then you feel Bi-Han’s eyes on you. His presence has you smiling to yourself, but you don’t move, waiting for him to come to you. Which, he does, walking around you and standing directly in front of the rock.

Your lack of a response has him huffing out, “I know you know I am here. You always know.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you retort, smiling up at him now.

His face is stoic, but his tone is gentle, “I have to leave now, we should be back in a few days, maybe less.”

“Be safe,” you tell him.

The thought of not seeing him for a few days dampens your mood, you’ve been growing accustomed to his presence. You feel like he just left on a mission for Liu Kang, but you understand he is an important man with commitments he has to attend to. You’re just some girl he likes.

“Mmm, I’ll try,” he shrugs in response to your request.

You frown in disapproval at him, “Not funny.”

His attitude is dismissive, “I’ll be fine.”

“When you come back, I have something I want to show you.”

“And what’s that?” His expression turns suggestive.

Your roll your eyes at him, “Nothing like that.”

You go to lightly smack him on the chest, but he catches your hand in the air. Stopping it from making contact. His hand drops yours, both of his coming up to hold your face in his hands. His eyes look intently into your own, his really pretty eyes. You practically melt for him in his hands.

Your expression makes him smile fondly at you, “So sweet on me.” He observes.

“I’ll stop.” You threaten, you don’t need the attentive commentary on your feelings, it makes you feel open.

It makes you feel seen, the horrible ordeal of being known and all that. It’s attention you are not accustomed to.

“Don’t you dare.” He hums, looking at you, eyes sparkling as they flit over your face, your neck; he won’t say it but he’s sweet on you too. Maybe more than you are on him.

You want to retort back again, keep the back and forth going. Hoping to prolong this conversation, prolong being in his presence but he’s leaning down to you. His hands still holding your face between them, he immediately deepens the kiss. Tongue in your mouth, he’s insistent but not forceful. He kisses you with the force of all his feelings, telling you everything you need to know without him having to speak a word.

Your own hands grab onto his forearms, you’re letting him kiss you how he needs. He’s taking what he needs, and it has you sighing into his mouth. His lips always, always overwhelming you. One of his hands goes from your face and pulls at your sitting waist, trying to move you closer to him.

Arms looping around his neck and holding on, your body stretching up. Both Bi-Han’s hands hold onto your hips, as he pulls you into him. Lips never pulling apart for more than a second, he’s holding you to him now. You’re no longer sitting and instead pressed to him, arms wrapped around his neck, his own arms holding you up. Your feet are not even touching the ground, he’s holding you up effortlessly, keeping your mouth level to his.

His kisses are fatal, and full, and when he pulls his lips away, he rests his forehead against yours. You’re breathless, both of you are. And you’re trying to savour the moment, you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him to you. He accepts the embrace and holds you tightly.

He speaks softly, “I’ll go anywhere you want, when I am back.”

You hum against him, “thank you.”

And then he’s leaving, taking Kuai and Tomas with him. You were his one and only stop before going.

You’ll miss him.

❆˖°

That evening at dinner isn’t the same, Bi-Han never offered much in the way of conversation, but it feels significantly quieter without him. He may not have spoken much, but his presence always said plenty.

Usually something like, “shut up, don’t talk to me.” or “don’t look at me, I don’t like any of you.”

It’s funny how much he puts up with you, when you think if anyone else mildly annoyed him, his instinctual response would be to punch them. Though, he isn’t sleeping with anyone else here.

Dinner is also quieter without Tomas and Kuai, at least verbally. They offered more words than Bi-Han, you find their differences interesting, they’re brothers and were raised together but something was different for each of them. There is so much that you want to know about Bi-Han, but he has a sad way about him, not obviously. Outwardly he comes across as angry, but underneath you feel a sadness and you wonder why. It’s something you want to ask him about but isn’t something you should ask about, some things can only be offered, not taken.

You’re deep in thought when your eyes catch on Raiden’s, he notices you coming back from your thoughts and offers a polite smile, one you return.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yup,” you nod at him.

This group makes you happy, you’ve never had much in the way of friends, so suddenly having a group of them is nice. Though, having people who care about you is an odd feeling, that’s not to say you haven’t had people care about you before, it’s just that in the past it’s been conditional or surface level. This isn’t that, everyone here is so genuine to you and sometimes it stuns you.

You’re pulled from your thoughts again, “What’s that, sugar?” Johnny asks from beside you.

You don’t know what he’s referring to, you turn to look at him, expression confused, “I don’t know?”

His smile is evil, his finger comes up and presses into a point on your skin, where your jaw meets your neck, just below your ear. Your blood runs cold and one of your hands comes up to cover it.

“It’s nothing,” your eyes are wide as you shake your head at him, silently begging him for discretion.

Johnny either doesn’t catch on or doesn’t care, “I know a hickey when I see one!”

Noises erupt from everyone at the table, Raiden chokes on his food across from you.

“What the hell, Johnny!” you huff at him.

You take it back; Johnny is the exception to the group and no longer a friend. His grin is large and mimics the Cheshire cat.

“Who gave you a hickey?!” Kung Lao yells out from next to Raiden.

You sigh deeply, of course this happens when Bi-Han is gone.

“Wait… is that why you weren’t at training today?” Kenshi asks from the other side of you.

He caught on quick, how annoying of him.

You’re holding your head in your hands, shaking it in exasperation. What did this night turn into.

When you look up again, you’re very obviously embarrassed, red in the face. The guys don’t notice, they’re all looking around the table, trying to find out who you’ve been sleeping with.

“This is none of our business,” Liu Kang interrupts, trying to be the voice of reason, but by the look he gives you, you can tell he wants you to tell him who you’re sleeping with. Such a gossip.

They ignore Liu Kang, and once they’ve determined it’s none of them, “OH MY GOD, it’s one of the brothers!” Johnny exclaims.

“Oh, well then obviously, it’s the scary one,” Kung Lao says.

You’ve still not said anything, you wouldn’t even know what to say. Bi-Han literally just left a few hours ago and now everything is out, because of him. You didn’t even know there was a hickey there, he would’ve seen it before he left too and just kept it to himself bastard.

“He does stare at her a lot,” Raiden notes, joining in.

“Et tu, Brute?” You complain.

He looks at you sheepishly, feeling bad.

Johnny’s hand comes out and shakes your shoulder, swaying you, “Is that why he looked like he wanted to kill me yesterday?”

There isn’t any point in denying… but you’re going to try anyways, “I don’t know what you guys are on about, you’ve all come to your own conclusions.”

You have a horrible poker face right now, being put on blast has you so embarrassed that any lie that you try to tell falls flat. Your attempt falls on deaf hears, they all shoot you a dubious look, even Liu Kang looks like he doesn’t believe you.

“I mean, he was especially murderous yesterday, he stares at you a lot, he went to say goodbye to you earlier.” Kenshi points out.

“How did you know he came to see me?” You ask, you wouldn’t think Bi-Han would tell anyone about that.

“I didn’t,” Kenshi has a supressed smile on lips, if he had fully smiled, it’d probably look as evil as Johnny’s. He’s proud of himself for catching you.

“Oh sugar, I am so sorry, you’ve just told on yourself,” Johnny’s hand is still on your shoulder, and he rocks you again.

You sigh and roll your eyes before smacking Johnny’s hand off you, “Not nice, Kenshi.”

“I am sorry,” he certainly does not look sorry, he acts better than Johnny but he’s just as bad.

Kung Lao interjects, “Okay, wait, for how long have you guys been,” he makes weird motions with his hands trying to finish what he means without saying it.

Lucky for him Johnny says it, “How long have you guys been fucking?”

“Johnny! Have some decorum,” Liu Kang chastises him.

Everyone else looks to you, all eyes on you, waiting for an answer to Johnny’s very invasive question.

You look up to the ceiling, hoping it might fall in on you and you can avoid all of this.

Raiden speaks to you gently, “You do not have to tell us anything if you are uncomfortable–”

“–Screw that! You have to tell us, he’s so… mean and you’re so… not!” Johnny interrupts.

“It’s been over a week, not long.” You say honestly, answering them will move this along quicker.

“Over a whole week, and no one noticed?” Kenshi says.

You clear your throat, “Well, Kuai knows.”

“You told him and not us!” Johnny is offended, “You aren’t closer to him than me, what the hell?”

“It wasn’t about choosing to tell him.” You shuffle in your seat, uncomfortable.

Kung Lao catches onto what you mean first, his eyes wide, “OH MY GOD,” he exclaims.

Raiden taps him, “what, what?” Kung Lao leans into him and whispers his suspicions to him, Raiden’s eyes also grow wide.

Liu Kang is shaking his head side to side from the head of the table, he knew immediately what you meant, he just doesn’t want to make this experience worse for you.

Kenshi and Johnny share a look around you for a few moments before their facial expressions also grow shocked when they catch on.

Johnny looks back at you, a hand over his mouth and one pointing at you, he’s being way more dramatic than necessary. But it’s what makes it so fun for him, the dramatics of an actor.

“You didn’t tell Kuai… he heard!”

“Yes, thank you for verbalising that, Johnny,” you sigh out.

Everyone is silent before he starts to let out stifled laughter, it’s apparently contagious because they all start laughing together. Everyone but Liu Kang but you know he’s enjoying this, his eyes bright and amused.

What a bunch of schoolboys, “Oh my god! Grow up!”

The laughter dies out slowly, “I can’t believe you guys, we are not friends anymore,” you pout out, “Especially you,” you target Johnny.

His hands raise up, “Hey! Why me specifically?”

“For not keeping your mouth shut.” You cross your arms over your chest.

Johnny’s smile grows even larger, if that’s possible, “Why are you wearing that turtleneck, sugar?”

You snarl at him, “I think you know why, sugar.”

Gasps comes from Raiden and Kung Lao.

Kenshi speaks next, “Jesus, did he maul you?”

Your head falls to your shoulder in a show of your own dramatics, “He might as well have.” You pick your head back up quickly, “It was Johnny’s fault!”

“How is it my fault?” His voice is offended, a hand falls on his chest.

“You flirted with me, it made him jealous,” you shrug.

Johnny pleads his case, “That wasn’t my fault! You’re hot and had your thighs either side of my head!”

“Don’t say that in front of him,” you tell Johnny sincerely, if Bi-han was here you’d genuinely be concerned for Johnny’s safety, “He already wants you dead.”

Johnny is flabbergasted, “HUUUH?”

“He actually isn’t happy with… any of you, not that he ever is,” you say.

“He tells you how he feels?” Liu Kang asks.

“He tries,” you nod.

Kenshi adds, “and he gets jealous?”

“Very,” you nod again.

“Dude, he LIKES you,” Johnny concludes, proud of himself.

“I know,” okay, you find this really funny, they think they’ve discovered something that you didn’t know, “He told me.”

“And?” Kung Lao probes.

“And, I like him too, which he also already knows,” you raise an eyebrow. You think they’re having a hard time grasping the fact that he talks to you and has told you how he feels.

“Woah, you guys have like… a full secret relationship,” Johnny remarks.

You confirm, it isn’t labelled but, “I guess so, pretty much.”

“I am stuck on him liking someone,” Kung Lao jests.

The comment pulls a smile from you because it is funny that of all people, he likes you.

“I mean at all, not just romantically,” He adds.

A chuckle comes from you at his addition.

“Well, I mean… if he was going to like someone it’s no wonder it’s her,” Kenshi says.

“That’s true,” Johnny replies.

They’re all nodding their heads in agreement; it’s making you feel bashful, “Okay, we can still be friends, since you all like me so much,” you say in a joking manner.

“Nice!” Johnny rejoices, to which they all join in the celebration. Their stupidity makes you laugh, you’re very fond of them all.

“He didn’t want anyone to know,” you tell them.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have assaulted your skin then,” Kenshi shrugs.

You decide to be a little bit mean; you turn to Kenshi and look him dead in the eyes, “You have no idea how bad it is,” you’re mostly joking but also yes, it is that bad.

Kenshi’s eyes get wide, and he tints pink as he understands the weight behind your words. It’s an amusing sight.

Johnny also catches your implication, “Holy shit–”

“–Are you going to tell him we know about the two of you, when he gets back?” Raiden cuts off Johnny, changing the subject, which you’re thankful for.

You shrug at him, “I’ll have to, I can’t lie to him, he always knows.”

“How cute,” Johnny has a sickening sweet lilt to his voice, mocking you.

You roll your eyes at him and push his shoulder, jostling him, “watch it Hollywood, you’re on thin ice right now.”

Tonight, has been, a lot, you couldn’t foresee this coming, but at least it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be.

“Is he freaky in bed?” Johnny leans closer to you to ask, trying to be discrete; everyone hears him anyhow.

You take back your earlier statement; Johnny is making this about as bad as you thought he would.

Raiden rolls his eyes at Johnny, having saved the conversation from this direction only for Johnny to swivel right back around and hit you with this question.

You ask him, “Do you want me to answer honestly? Or are you just ribbing me?” You genuinely can’t tell.

“Of course, I want the truth,” he scoffs.

You pause, you don’t know what to say, “he’s hot.” You decide to be dismissive.

“Oh c’mon, that’s boring, I want something juicy!” Johnny whinges.

“It’s hot, he’s good…” You trail off, remembering how verbal Bi-Han is in bed, how much he talks to you, how much you enjoy it, you miss him.

Johnny boos at your non-descript detailing of your sex life.

“Johnny, go get laid,” you tell him.

A chorus of ‘oooooh’ erupts from the guys, rubbing your teasing comment in Johnny’s face.

“You all know far too much now anyways, any more information you want, you can risk your lives asking Bi-Han for.” You shut down all further questioning for the night.

You’re putting up a brave front but them asking Bi-Han directly will result in one of two ways, one: he kills them on the spot, or two: he gives far too much detail, happy to explain how well he fucks you, hoping to deter them from wanting you. It’s like the marks he left behind, they’re a sign of ownership, and you’re sure his words would reflect the same kind of intent. Especially after he got so jealous the other day. You’re just hoping Bi-Han’s aura is too threatening for them to even attempt at asking him something like that.

You aren’t sure if you should be concerned about everyone finding out or not, Bi-Han wasn’t exactly trying his hardest to keep your relationship on the downlow, but you also know he probably doesn’t want people to know.

Cause like he said, ‘two things can be true at once’.

❆˖°

The past couple days have been gruelling, the nonstop teasing from mostly Johnny but also all of them has been, exhausting. It isn’t particularly upsetting but it is almost constant, this is why you wanted to keep it secret. Not because of any grander reason, but because these guys are unbearable sometimes and you spend almost every day, all day with them.

Right now, you’re all having a break from training, standing in the open courtyard, you were all having a nice conversation but of course the subject of you and Bi-Han always comes back up. It’s like the go to topic when conversation dies down now.

Johnny is whinging again, “Come on, give us something! Or does he just lay there silently?”

He is pressing you about your sex life again, weirdly invested in the dynamics.

You shake your head at him, “Johnny I don’t know what makes you think I would give you explicit details about my sex life, it’s not any of your business.”

You really wish Bi-Han were here, dealing with this on your own is very difficult, you imagine it would be easier to cope if he were beside you. They should all be back later today, possibly the evening, you just have to field the questions until then.

“It’s a weird dynamic and I can’t picture it!” He is still pushing it.

“Why would you want to?” You ask him.

He’s being very dramatic, “Because it’s odd! Like a car crash you can’t look away from”

“Not comparable Johnny!” What the hell, your sex life with Bi-Han is not like a car crash.

“No but it’s like…” He’s clicking his fingers together trying to remember the term he is searching for, “morbid curiosity!” He snaps in finality, pointing at you.

You shake your head and groan, “Most people who experience that are also polite enough to not ask, be more like Raiden,” you point at Raiden, he’s standing across from you, he’s been very polite and not bombarded you with inappropriate questions.

You add, “Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Ah yes, but satisfaction brought it back,” Johnny concludes, his smile smug.

You stand there silently; you’ve decided to just ignore him now. Which of course, does not work, he is now poking at your side, repeating your name over and over.

“Come on, just a crumb of detail!” He huffs out at you before suddenly going quiet.

They’re all quiet and you know why, Bi-Han is behind you. You can feel his presence, looming over you from behind, he’s not looking at you. You assume he is shooting the others a killer glare.

“She is a sweet little thing in bed,” Bi-Han adds, his tone humourless, he’s pissed.

You gasp at his statement and turn around to him, you slap him on the chest lightly, “What the hell Bi-Han?!”

You look up at him with an angry expression, he’s still looking at the group behind you. His face as stoic as usual, his tone was angry, but his expression is blasé. He’s daring them to ask him more, he will answer and that’s a threat.

You look back at everyone, none of them want to talk, all a bit red in the face. They’re uncomfortable and shooting dirty looks at Johnny, who is looking away to the sky with an innocent expression on his face.

Spinning back round you look up at Bi-Han again and this time he looks down to you, his gaze immediately softening at the sight of you. He leans down and hugs you, one you accept because you missed him, even though he just made it difficult for your friends to look you in the eyes.

When he pulls back you go to turn around and apologise to the guys, but Bi-Han has other plans, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, walking away with you.

You go to protest, “Hey! Wait–”

“–No,” he says, simply.

You can see the guys as you’re carried away, Johnny holds two thumbs up and has a huge smile on his face. You point at him, your gaze burning as you look directly into his eyes. Making a promise to get back at him for being so annoying and nosy.

As you walk through the grounds, you walk past Kuai, Tomas and Liu Kang, Bi-Han doesn’t stop walking, completely ignoring them.

“Hey guys, glad you’re back safe,” you say waving at them as you’re carried past.

Tomas has a confused look on his face as he waves back at you. Kuai’s expression a disapproving one, his brother continues to exasperate him, and Liu Kang just looks, exhausted.

You’re carried back to Bi-Han’s room, and once you’re inside he places you on the floor gently. Gaining your footing and stretching once you’re standing again.

You tell Bi-Han, “That wasn’t necessary, I would’ve come with you willingly.”

He changes the topic, “So they all know.”

You look as guilty as you feel, “Yes…” You say, Bi-Han gives you a stern look, but you continue, “…but actually, it’s your fault because they saw one of the hickeys you left!” You point an accusatory finger at him.

His face morphs into an expression of pride, wolfish smile present on his lips, “Good.”

“No, no, not good, and you know, it occurs to me that you would have seen it before you left and said nothing!” You point out to him.

“And if I did?” He shrugs at you, face dropping into a serious expression.

“No… mmm, no…,” you’re struggling to think of a punishment, there is only really one thing you can punish him with, “No sex!”

He’s quick to answer, “Okay, then I did not see it.”

His expression is definite, you know he’s pleased with himself, but he’s keeping his poker face on.

Your hands land on your hips, disapproving of his attitude, “Is this what you wanted?”

He looks upwards and to the side, pretending to think, “I can’t say I am particularly torn up about it.”

“You have no idea the torment I’ve had to put up with,” you sigh out.

He considers your words for a second, “Want me to kill them?”

“NO!” He knows you do not want that.

He smiles affectionately at you, “I am sorry I wasn’t here with you.”

“You should be,” you pout at him, you’re a little miffed with him right now.

And he knows which is why he hits you where you’re soft for him, “I missed you, sweet girl.”

You want to tell him you missed him too, but you don’t, instead you huff out, “I doubt it.”

He moves to you as he speaks, “Missed you, made sure we finished as quick as possible, just so I could see you again.” When he reaches you, he holds your head in his hands, his eyes soft as he looks into yours, “did you miss me?”

He’s trapped you, “Of course I missed you,” your response is mumbled out, begrudged with yourself for giving in so easily.

He smiles at you warmly, you look up at him, “Still annoyed with you though.”

He rolls his eyes playfully at you, “I am sure I can fix that.”

Leaning down he presses a single kiss to your lips; one you don’t return. He’s still holding your face in his hands, your own hanging limply at your sides. He grunts in disapproval at your lack of response.

“Kiss me back,” he demands.

You shake your head in response.

He huffs out an annoyed breath, “You’re not being very polite, missed you so much and you won’t even kiss me.” Your heart pulls in your chest and you almost give in.

He leans down and kisses you again, and again, and again. He keeps kissing you until you sigh against him, he takes the opportunity to enter his tongue into your mouth, finally able to kiss you properly. Your hands instinctually come up for something to hold onto, grabbing at the material of his shirt.

His own hands moving from your face down to your thighs, he picks you up and you gasp against his lips. Your inner thighs resting on his hips, your arms holding onto each other from behind his neck, the sudden shift shocked you and you’re holding tightly onto Bi-Han for balance.

“Relax, sweet girl, I’ve got you,” he nuzzles at the side of your face, inhaling your scent.

You take his lips back in yours, he turns the kiss dirty immediately. Tongue in your mouth, taking your breath away. He walks you both to the wall, and your back rests against it. His mouth never leaves yours, savouring the way you’re kissing him, enjoying the small sounds he’s pulling from you. His kisses are insistent, showing you just how much he missed you.

When he pulls away, it’s to look at your face, he’s taking in all your features and taking pride at the look in your eyes. It’s the same expression you always have when he kisses you, so soft for him, gooey eyed. His kisses take all thoughts from you, the only thought you have is his lips on your own.

“Ah there she is, my sweet girl, the one who’s so polite to me,” he hums, nosing at the skin of your cheek.

“Don’t be mean, not after kissing me like that,” you reply.

He laughs lightly and goes to place you back on your feet, but you cling to him, wanting a hug. He lets you hang on, but he sighs out in faux annoyance. You tuck your head under his, resting your forehead against him.

You mumble into his chest, “Still annoyed that you left me here to deal with them all.”

“Probably for the best, you are more patient than I.”

“Would’ve been nice to have you here, I was super embarrassed,” you shake your head into his chest.

“My offer to kill them still stands,” he’s joking, mostly.

Pulling your face from his chest, you laugh in response, “No, thank you.” It’s quiet for a moment, and then you remember, “I still have something I want to show you.”

He looks at you with a suggestive look on his face, “and what’s that?”

“Nothing like that,” you frown at him, he knows already, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you.

He chuckles at you and pecks your lips, “Show me later? After lunch?”

“Sounds good,” you smile at him.

His eyes glint with mischief, “There is something I would like to see right now,” he remarks, moving to the bed and laying you down on it. He’s on top of you, straddling your outer thighs, keeping you still underneath him.

“Bi-Han, do we really have time for this?” You ask, not completely upset with where this is heading.

He smirks at you, “I do.”

And then he’s pulling your shirt off, a gasp pulled from you as his head dips to leave more marks on your chest, lips trailing to your breasts. He sucks harshly against your soft skin, nibbling at the tissue on your breasts. He takes a nipple into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue, the stimulation has you whimpering, chest rising towards him in response.

His large hands grip you, holding your ribcage still as he works at your nipple, he parts from you, making a popping noise as he does.

“Got perfect tits, missed them,” he hums, moving to your other breast.

His mouth is cold, you think he’s doing it purposefully. Either way, its enhances the pleasure he’s giving you. One of his hands grabs at your other breast, fondling it, tugging at the nipple. The moans that want to escape are being held back only by sheer will, which is slowly falling away.

Pulling back, he sits up a bit, looking at your rapidly rising and falling chest. His eyes holding anything but pure thoughts, both of his hands grope at your tits, he’s toying with you. Enjoying your growing need for him, you go to say something about it, but his fingers start pulling at both your nipples, it has you sighing a moan and forgetting what you wanted to say in the first place.

He’s proud of himself, rendering you speechless just from the way he plays with your tits, and if he wasn’t touching you in such a divine way, you just might curse him out about it.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he coos at you.

“We have to go to lu–hah–nch,” you gasp out.

“In a moment,” he says.

It’s going to be more than a moment and you know it, just based off the almost feral look on his face, and by the way one of his hands leaves your chest to travel down your body. Cupping your pussy over your pants, he massages you before spreading your pussy lips to rub at your clit through the material of your pants. You squirm at the stimulation, huffing out quiet whimpers as he rubs at you.

He's about to say something, probably something obscene but it’s cut off by a knock on his door. A voice follows it, “Lunch is ready,” it’s Kuai’s voice, he sounds… weary.

Bi-Han rolls his eyes, you know he’s going to say something nasty so you cut in over him, “Thank you, Kuai, we will be there in a moment.” You keep your eyes locked with Bi-Han as you say it.

Kuai hums his acknowledgement and walks away.

You go to sit up, but Bi-Han places a hand on your sternum and pushes you back down, “Hold on, wanna look at you for a moment more.”

His words make your heart jump, but you tell him, “You can look at me plenty, later.”

Groaning, he pulls you up and off the bed, you smile up at him. Standing on your tippy toes, you give him a kiss and he hums into it.

“Watch it, I’ll keep you here.” He warns.

You giggle a little at his threat, it doesn’t feel intimidating at all, it makes you feel hot. Everything he does increases your temperature; it really is ironic considering.

He reaches for your discarded shirt, and you hold your arms up in the air, waiting for him pull it over your head. Instead, he stands there, holding your shirt and staring at your tits. Sighing at him you give him a ‘really?’ look. He does ultimately put your shirt back on you, he’s careful when he does. Not wanting to be too rough as he redresses you. It has you feeling weak for him, he’s always so careful with you, in little ways.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he groans out, not looking forward to eating with everyone. He’d much rather stay here and have his way with you.

Taking his hand in yours, you both walk to the eating area together.

❆˖°

Lunch is… awkward. Everyone is side eyeing you and Bi-Han, he sat down beside you today. He doesn’t usually sit next to you, but now that everyone knows, he did. That introduced issues with the seating though, not the first ones to be fair. But Johnny and Kenshi aren’t allowed to sit either next to or in front of each other anymore, on account of their arguments that turn into kicking under the table.

So, Johnny is in his assigned seat next to you and Kenshi usually sits on your other side, but now he is sitting next to Bi-han. You can tell Bi-Han is unhappy with this, on all fronts, but mostly that Johnny is next to you. Though, if Johnny were to sit next to Bi-Han, you’d worry he’d say something to get bodily harmed, so you argued to keep him next to you. Furthering Bi-Han’s hatred for Johnny, but making Johnny feel special, which was not your intention.

But that is how you end up feeling very uncomfortable, the table is tense, and everyone is sharing looks with each other.

“Am I missing something?” Tomas says.

Oh God, no one has told Tomas, Johnny chokes back laughs beside you and you shoot him a look, telling him that he is specifically not allowed to tell him.

“We’re fucking,” Bi-Han says, motioning between the two of you.

Tomas has a shocked expression on his face, tinging pink as makes eye contact with you.

You have to take a deep controlled breath, your eye twitches with annoyance. Maybe it was better that Bi-Han wasn’t here the other night.

Head snapping to the side, you look at him, your expression one of pure anger, why would he say it like that? And why would he say it like that to Tomas???

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t find anything wrong with what he said, “have been for a couple weeks.” Bi-Han looks up for a second, thinking, “in the courtyard, my room, her room..”

“Shut up, Bi-Han!” You say it in a hushed and urgent tone.

Johnny is trying so hard not to laugh but he finds what Bi-Han said so ridiculous and out of character that he can’t help but crack up.

Doing some more controlled breathing, you sit completely still and calmly say, “Johnny, if you don’t stop laughing, I am going to hit you.”

“Stop warning people, puts you at a disadvantage,” Bi-Han tells you, completely unbothered. You don’t think he realises he’s in trouble.

“I appreciated the warning,” Johnny interjects.

Ignoring the both of them, you attempt to control your blood pressure, how is this worse than the other night?

“Is that a comment from experience, Bi-Han?” Kuai asks.

Bi-Han looks at him, he doesn’t answer but his silence says plenty. Kuai looks amused at this development, finding it funny you tried to punch Bi-Han but gave him a warning first.

Kenshi adds to the conversation, “He’s right, if you actually want to land a hit, no warning.” He tells you.

“But that’s not nice, I don’t actually want to hurt someone,” you huff out. You give warnings for a reason, to give them a chance to correct the behaviour.

Bi-Han smirks beside you and says quietly, “sweet.”

Your lips downturn at Bi-Han, he’s made this much more messy.

“Was I the only one that didn’t know?” Tomas asks.

“Yes,” Bi-Han says, he continues to eat his lunch.

You tell Bi-Han, “You aren’t allowed to talk anymore,” Before addressing everyone, “I will talk, you will all listen.”

Everyone sits quietly, waiting for you, “Bi-Han and I like each other, we have been… together for almost a couple weeks now, I am not going to share intimate details of our sex lives,” you shoot Johnny and Bi-Han incriminating glances, “Tomas you are last to know, Kuai found out first and the others found out while you were gone.”

Tomas looks at Kuai, offended that he didn’t tell him about you and Bi-Han, you’d feel bad, but it wasn’t really any of their businesses anyhow. The only person you felt bad for was Kuai and that’s because he heard the two of you.

“We are adults, so I think we can all accept this and move on, yes?” You ask.

As you look around the table, they all share their agreeance, all except Bi-Han, who is still completely unbothered, eating lunch.

Liu Kang looks like he feels bad for you, “Your relationship is between the two of you, we will not pry any further,” he says very gently, trying to salvage the situation.  

“Yes, we are all sorry for being invasive,” Kung Lao says, very pointedly targeting Johnny with his tone.

“Don’t fault me for being curious! It’s an odd dynamic,” Johnny argues.

“It is not any of our business,” Raiden adds.

Bi-Han looks Johnny dead in the eyes, “She lets me do what I want, and she enjoys it, creams ar–”

“Bi-Han!” You cut him off, your face on fire. He looks at you, you have a very strained smile on your face as you say, “stop. talking.”

His eyes widen slightly, realising he’s upset you; he goes to speak more.

“No,” you say simply, shutting down further conversation. Your lunch has been finished and so you stand up abruptly, “Don’t follow me.” You tell him as you walk away.

Everything is silent as you leave, no one daring to talk.

Your plans for this evening have been ruined, you had something to show Bi-Han and you really aren’t in the head space for it now. In all honesty, you might be overreacting, but it doesn’t change how you feel right now, you need a moment to calm yourself.

❆˖°

Leaving the dining area has you feeling better, your skin felt like it was on fire. From both embarrassment and anger. You don’t know what was wrong with Bi-Han to be so upfront, the first time Kuai asked about your sex life he almost bit his head off and he didn’t even outright ask.

Now he is willing to tell everyone far more details – too many details. You need an hour or so, to process everything and calm down. Bi-Han knows how embarrassed you can get so it was unkind of him to be so blunt in front of everyone. The only thing you can think of is that he seemed a little on edge, maybe that’s why he said it the way he did but then why take it out on you?

The result is the same though, you’re upset with him. It was already uncomfortable for you, and you wanted him to help. It didn’t even seem like he tried to help, jumping straight to the nuclear option.

Going back to your room isn’t an option, you told him not to follow you, but you know he’ll be looking for you anyways. The first place he’ll look will be your room, then enlightenment rock, and probably most of the grounds. You decide to go somewhere he doesn’t know about, it’s a flower field that’s dead, has been all winter, the cold killing them and causing them to wilt.  

It’s where you wanted to bring him, but you decide to go there now, knowing it will take him a while to find you here. Biding your time, because talking to him right now won’t go well… for you. Talking things out directly after they’ve happened never ends well for you because if you haven’t had time to decompress, to get perspective, you might become overly defensive, or mean. And the last thing you want is to be mean to Bi-Han, not if he doesn’t deserve it.  

So, you sit in the middle of this flower field, allowing yourself to breathe in the air. What has happened, has already happened and you can’t undo it. But when you are ready you can talk to Bi-Han and try to understand how he was feeling in that moment. Sometimes you hate this about yourself, but you always think about the why. Why did he feel the need to say that, why did he choose that moment to say that, why doesn’t he seem to care, even though it embarrassed you.

Opening your eyes, you take in the flower field; it must have been so vibrant when it was blooming. It would’ve looked so, so alive. The beauty of nature and how flourishing it can look, how vivacious naturally occurring colours can be.

It never ceases to amaze you, when you think of how – just like people, nature needs the right environment to truly bloom and share its beauty with the world. You think Bi-Han is like a flower field, no one sees how beautiful he is, they don’t give him the right circumstances. But in small moments together, when you compliment him, or look at him with the most softest gaze, he blooms for you, and it is magnificent.

It takes him about an hour, but he does find you. You can’t tell if he’s pissed or relieved when he sees you. He walks right up to you, where you’re sitting in the middle of the flower field.

“I have been looking everywhere for you,” he says, straining himself to stay calm. Not wanting to worsen his situation.

“I know, I have been waiting for you,” you tell him, and then you pat the ground beside you, wanting him to sit.

He sighs but he sits down beside you anyways, “Why are you waiting for me in the middle of a dead field?”

“It’s what I wanted you to see,” you don’t look at him.

He’s looking at you though, intently, “Why would I want to look at a dead flower field?”

You smile to yourself, because yeah, who would want to look at a dead flower field. No one cares when the flowers are already dead, but when the time comes back around, this field will be gorgeous, and people will care then.

You ignore his question, instead asking him your own, “Bi-Han, you were rude tonight, and you embarrassed me, in front of my friends, why?”

“I… don’t really know, I was in a… bad mood and answered thoughtlessly, my intention wasn’t to embarrass you,” he’s struggling to tell you how he felt, this isn’t the type of confrontation he’s used to.

“It wasn’t your intent, but it was a consequence of your actions,” you tell him how it is. Sometimes people don’t mean to hurt you but that doesn’t change the fact that they did.

There is only one thing he offer you right now and he knows it, but you don’t really know if he’s capable of it. You think if this was anyone else, you wouldn’t hold their hand through this, but you don’t think Bi-Han is used to trying to make things better after he messes up. That and you think it could’ve been worse.

So, you ask him, “Why were you in a bad mood, Bi-Han?”

“I was… jealous, again,” he looks to the sky before continuing, “that Cage, he already pissed me off the other day by flirting with you, and then his invasive questioning of our sex life, and then he gets to sit beside you at the table, after being a little–”

“–Okay I can see that this is more of a culminative thing, rather than just earlier,” you gather pretty quickly he still isn’t really over what happened and everything else is just adding fuel to the fire.

You can understand his annoyance with Johnny, because you’ve been annoyed with Johnny, you just haven’t had the chance to properly ask him to stop, but you know if you do, he will. You’re going to have to prioritise talking with Johnny but that’s not to say all the blame is on him, Bi-Han still messed up out of jealousy.

“Tomas didn’t deserve being told like that,” you say, gently. You feel bad for Tomas, stuck in the crosshairs of Bi-Han’s anger.

He grunts at you, not agreeing but not willing to argue with you over it.

You sit beside him silently, giving him time to figure out what to say next. You can understand, kind of, how he is feeling.

He sighs beside you, “Will you look at me… please?” He asks tentatively.

Turning to look at him in the eyes you can see he does seem to feel bad about letting his anger get ahead of him.

“I misspoke and I am sorry,” it’s all he says, but it’s all you really need.

You don’t need him to overexplain himself, it undoes an apology in a way, trying to argue for yourself rather than just coping to your mistake.

“It’s not okay, but I understand,” you reply.

You both sit in silence again, you decide to break it with a joke, “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

He hums, “No, but I considered it.” He’s also joking, you think.

His hand moves slightly closer to you, you think he wants to touch you but is worried you’ll pull away. Shuffling your body closer to him, you take his hand in yours. He relaxes slightly at the contact.

“What did you want to show me?” He’s curious now.

You smile up at him, “If I show you this, you have to tell me something about yourself, it can be anything, but something no one else knows.”

He seems a bit hesitant, “Better be worth it.”

Letting go of his hand you adjust yourself so you’re sitting on your knees, turning to Bi-Han you see he’s watching you, “Don’t watch me, watch the flowers.”

He rolls his eyes, “There aren’t any flowers.”

“Just – watch,” you remark.

He huffs but looks out to the field, you turn forward again and place your hands on the ground. You focus your energy on the field, breathing slowly, you hear nothing – feel nothing. The field is dead, but as you release your feelings into the ground through your hands, you can hear the flowers sing to you as they come back to life.

Colours blooming all around you, the flowers standing tall as you thaw the Earth and allow the flowers to flourish. The sounds and feelings of the Earth coming back to life run through you, the afternoon sun hanging low in the sky falling on your face.

After the whole field is back to its most vibrant form, you sit back and look out at it. It’s not something you’ve attempted to do before, not on a large scale like this. You’ve brought back house plants and listened to the way the Earth hums, but you’ve never tried to bring back a dead field.

Looking over at Bi-Han, you see he’s looking out to the field, stunned at all the flowers you brought back in one go. You’ve not shown or really told anyone about your ability, only Liu Kang knows, and you didn’t exactly tell him. You don’t tend to tell people because it’s not something you feel is especially helpful in combat. Not like fire, or ice, you’re in tune with nature, you feel a deep connection to it, but it doesn’t go much further than that, as far as you can tell anyways.

“It’s beautiful,” Bi-Han says.

You ask, “Is it worth it?”

“Yes,” he has a small smile on his face as he turns to look at you.

Motioning for you to come closer, you move from where you are sitting and crawl over to him, flowers brushing against your skin as you do.

When you’re within reach he pulls you down to him and hugs you to his chest. You fall into his lap sideways, your legs over to one side as you sit on him, you look up at him but he’s looking out to the field. You tuck your head under his chin, ear resting against his chest. His arms are wrapped around you, holding you close as you sit on his lap.

He sighs from above you before speaking, “I trained hardest, out of Kuai Liang and Tomas… I was the eldest and next in line for Grandmaster… and I was pushed harder, given less leeway by my father. And I hold resentment towards them all, because I didn’t get the same experiences as them, I was being forged into the Lin Kuei’s weapon. They were children first and… they had each other.”

That’s the sadness you knew was there, the loss of a childhood, of brotherly connection, of any connection. This isn’t something you can relate to; you don’t know how to help him with this.

“I want to help… how can I help you?” You ask him, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

One of his hands cups your cheek, holding you tenderly, “You have been, you being beside me helps plenty.”

You lean into his hand, enjoying his touch.

He speaks, asking you, “Now you tell me something no one else knows.”

“I already showed you,” a small smile is present on your lips.

He isn’t satisfied with that, and you knew he wouldn’t be, “Doesn’t count.”

You huff out, “Mmm let me think.”

Leaning your head back on his chest, you ponder for a moment on what you could share with him.

“Sometimes, I worry that I am useless… like even when I try to be helpful, whether it be through my actions, insight, advice, anything… that it is not helpful. And I worry that I am only worthy of taking up space if I can be of service…” You pause for a moment before finishing, “I feel undeserving of the space I take up.” You bare your soul to him, because you truly feel that you’re not allowed to exist if you can’t offer anything in return.

His embrace tightens around you a fraction, “You are so useful, sweet girl and even if you weren’t, I’d want you all the same.”

His words effect you deeper than you would have expected them to, you tear up slightly at the affirmation that he wants you, useful or not. You tuck your head into his chest further, rubbing your eyes on his shirt to get rid of your tears before they fall.

Both of his hands pull your head back, looking into your teary eyes. His expression is so soft for you, filled with so much kindness, an expression you wouldn’t have thought him capable of a couple weeks ago.

“Sweet, sweet girl, my sweet girl,” he hums out, before leaning in and kissing you.

It’s a tender thing, he has no ulterior motives behind it, he just wants to gently kiss you. Wants to be connected to you. You accept the kiss, letting him do with you as he pleases, your mind filling with nothing but thoughts of how soft his lips are. How kind he is to you, how much you would be willing to sacrifice for him. Oh yeah, he’s stuck with you now, you think.

When you part from each other, he lays down on his back, taking you with him. You’re both laying on a bed of flowers, you roll off him and instead tuck into his side, he rolls to his side too, so he can look at you.

You tell him, “I think you’re a lot like this flower field, it’s why I wanted to show it to you.”

“And how exactly am I like a flower field,” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Because, you’re beautiful when you bloom,” you say it with no shame, meaning every word spoken.

He looks a little flush in the face at your words, “kind words will get you into my bed.” He changes the subject.

You laugh at him but complain, “I have more questions.”

His head rolls back in an overdramatic way, he groans as he does, “Fine.”

“Favourite colour?” You ask.

“Blue,” he says.

You look doubtful of his answer, “Really?”

“Yes, what’s yours?” He turns the question on you.

Smiling at him you say, “The brown of your eyes.”

You’re mostly teasing him, but you also can’t think of any colour prettier than the colour of his eyes right now. The way the sun is setting is lighting his eyes up into a beautiful, honeyed brown and you think you could fall into them and die happy.

He rolls his eyes at you, “Flatterer.” He shakes his head at you, “Next question.”

“Mmm, who’s the smartest person you’ve ever met?”

He thinks on it for a moment, his face telling you that he doesn’t think he’s met any smart people, before his expression shifts as he has an answer, “My mother.”

That’s really sweet of him you think, he’s a mama’s boy.

“How about you?” He asks.

“Me,” you say, big smile on your face.

“What a cop out.” He complains but his eyes are alight with an amused look.

“I am asking the next question,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

You’re happy he’s actually getting invested in this little game, this is something you’ve wanted for a while now. Getting to know him is some of the most fun you’ve had in a while.

He considers what to ask, not realising how difficult it is to pick a question to ask off the top of your head, he eventually settles on, “What is your favourite feeling?”

“Oh, easy, earlier when I brought the field back it was silent because the flowers were dead but when I brought them back, it’s like they sing and the singing of life itself is beautiful.” You answer him enthusiastically.

You think about it for a moment more and decide to be very open, “And, when you look at me, it sends a shiver down my spine… that I’ve grown to enjoy.” The confession has you feeling bashful.

“That’s cute,” he pinches your cheek before the hand trails down your body and lands on your hip, gripping you there, “My favourite feeling is your tight little cunt wrapped around–”

“–Oh my god, do you think about anything else?” You exasperate.

His laugh is distracted as he shrugs at you, “Sometimes.”

You change the subject and ask him another question, “Favourite place?”

“Next to you… or inside you,” he changes the subject right back.

You groan at him and push him off his side and flat onto his back. He chuckles as he’s falling back.

The rest of the afternoon is spent together in that flower field, talking with each other and recounting old memories. Talking about anything and everything as the sun goes down. You think that this will always be one of your favourite memories, even if it did start with you being pissed off with him.

❆˖°

When you both return, you part ways, Bi-Han has to speak with Liu Kang and have a proper debrief about the mission. You on the other hand, want to shower and clean off the dirt and pollen on your clothes. Bi-Han promised to come to your room when he was done though.

On the way back to your room you, mercifully, don’t run into anyone and make it back without your mood being ruined.

The shower is such a welcome delight, cleansing yourself of the day and all the difficulties that came with it is a wonderful thing to be able to do. And when you’re done, you get to pamper yourself by moisturising and putting on comfortable pjs. It isn’t often that you get to wear some of your own clothes from before you were here, so it’s always nice when you get the chance to.

It’s also a bonus that you packed a matching set, ironically, it’s blue – you wonder if Bi-Han will notice or care. It’s very cute that his favourite colour is blue, something that you think, yeah is obvious but you didn’t know if he wore blue because of the Lin Kuei, his aesthetic, or if he liked it. Having him answer questions has given you some clarity and insight into him as a person and you feel so giddy about it.

You fiddle around your room, tidying away some of your belongings. Cleaning up the small messes that have been built up over the course of a few days. You’re stuffing around with some trinkets when there’s a knock on the door, it startles you and you fumble with the small jewellery box you’re holding, it falls onto the ground in front of the dresser.

You answer who you assume is Bi-Han first, “Come in,” you call out before ducking down to the ground.

On your hands and knees, picking up some of the jewellery that had scattered on the floor, you notice an earring slipped under the dresser and you arch your back, bending down further to reach under and get it, as your face gets closer to the ground to look, you realise a ring has slipped under further than the earring.

You can hear the door slip open and closed from behind you, “Are you kidding me?” Bi-Han groans out from behind you.

You hum in question at him, grasping the earring and then attempting to get a hold of the ring, it’s just barely out of reach.

Bi-Han comes closer, standing directly behind you, watching you struggle to reach the ring, “Great view,” he comments.

Ignoring him, you arch forward a tiny bit more and he whistles at you from behind, you roll your eyes at him and then your annoyance is replaced with a feeling of victory as you finally get the bloody thing out from under the dresser.

Sitting back up you lean on your knees, holding the two small pieces of jewellery up in triumph, you pack all of the spilt trinkets back into their box and stand up, placing it back on the dresser.

As you turn around, you’re met with the sight of Bi-Han in his night robe, his hair down, he seemingly has also just showered. Not to be overly dramatic but, you might die just from looking at him.

“Hello,” you say sweetly, enamoured by the sight of him.

He shakes his head at you, “Get everything from under there? Or is there more?”

“That was all of it,” you tell him.

He hums in disapproval, “That’s a shame.”

“How was the debriefing?” You ask, curious.

His expression turns annoyed, “Mmm, it was fine, rather not have gone, it was a waste of my time.”

“You think everything is a waste of time,” you jab.

He quips back, “Not true, you aren’t a waste of my time.”

“Flatterer.”

His expression turns mischievous, “And where will flattery get me?”

“Everywhere,” you give him an innocent smile, it doesn’t match the implications of your statement.

Moving closer to you, he grabs your hips, admiring the blue pyjamas you’re wearing, “You look good in blue, should wear it more.”

“I don’t own much blue,” you comment.

He shakes his head, “We’ll have to change that.”

Reaching up your wrap your arms around his neck, you want to kiss him but he’s out of reach and you’re stretched as far as you can go. He’s purposefully not leaning down, staying out of reach. It makes you pout at him.

“What? What’s wrong now?” He asks you, playing dumb.

“Will you kiss me, please?”

His head tips to the side, pretending to have to think about it, “Mmm, okay, since you asked all pretty like.”

He leans down and kisses you, effortlessly picking you up as he does. With his hold on your hips, he carries you over to the bed. When he reaches it, he turns around, so his back is facing it, he leans down and places your feet back on the floor. He continues to kiss you, it’s filthy, his tongue in your mouth, licking at you, his teeth nibbling at your lips. You gasp against his mouth as his hands come around and grope at your ass cheeks, holding handfuls of it.

Pulling back, he whispers against your lips, “I haven’t forgotten, you’re sitting on my face, sweetie.”

Your insides twist at his statement, you’ve never sat on anyone’s face before, you’re a little nervous about it. You want to protest but his hand slips inside your shorts to grip your bare ass, and he realises.

“No panties?” He asks.

You hum, “I didn’t ah, think they would be necessary?”

“Should’ve just been completely naked and waiting for me then,” he remarks.

“Thought you might like the blue.”

He groans in response, “and I do, but I’d like it better on the floor.”

He pulls his hair back into a bun as he speaks. The small act of him tying his hair back makes your desire for him grow.

Once he’s tied his hair back, he’s harshly tugging your shorts down, they slip down your legs effortlessly with the force he pulls them down with. You don’t get time to react properly, because he’s picking you up and chucking you down on the bed. A breath is pulled from your chest as you land on it, Bi-Han is crawling over top of you, he presses a tender kiss to your lips and then he’s manhandling you again. Rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him as he does.

You’re straddling him in this position and he’s flat on his back. You understand now, he tied his hair back, so your knees don’t pull on it. You’re apprehensive, making no moves forward, much to Bi-Han’s dismay.

He grabs your thighs and tugs you all the way to his face, “Bi-Han – wait!”

A deep groan of protest is pulled from his chest, but he stops moving you, your cunt sitting so close to his face but not close enough for him reach, also to his dismay.

He has to put in a lot of effort to tear his gaze away from your wet pussy, “What’s wrong?” He huffs.

“I’ve never done this before,” you feel timid at your admission.

“Mhmm, thas fine, I’ll take care of you, just sit on my face and let me tongue fuck you. It’ll be good, promise.”

His words serve to set your face on fire rather than any comfort he may have meant them as. But his hands slowly stroke your thighs in a comforting manner, trying to get you to relax for him.

“’Kay, Mm ready,” you mumble out.

“’Atta girl,” He taps your thighs, letting you move this time.

Gently, you travel the rest of the way forward, your cunt right above his mouth, he doesn’t take his eyes off you. Appreciating the view, it makes you bashful, the way his gaze devours you whole, eyes filled with lust.

“Sit down,” he guides.

You lower yourself slightly, not sitting on him, scared to suffocate him. He let out a sound of disapproval, “Sit. All the way down.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” you protest.

“Trust me this is gonna do the opposite of that.”

You go to argue with him, “but–”

He lightly slaps your thigh at your objections, “–When I say sit on my face, I mean fucking sit on it.” He growls out at you.

You still have your reservations, but you sit down on him, it still isn’t your full weight, but your pussy is right on his waiting mouth. The feeling has a small sigh coming from your lips.

Bi-Han is growing impatient under you, and he rumbles into your cunt, he’s sick of going at your pace now. His hands wrapped around your thighs grab on and tug you down, a cry of protest is pulled from your lips but he’s stronger than you and he’s pulled you into a full sitting position on his face.

His tongue laps at you, the unfamiliar feeling has you shooting forward, hands grabbing at the headboard. Bi-Han moans out from under you, the taste of you, how wet you are, the smell of you, all adding to his own arousal.

He keeps licking at you, tongue entering your pussy hole, fucking up into you, his nose rubbing against your clit. The pleasure has you seeing stars, moans falling from your lips, ones that you aren’t particularly focused on right now. Too involved in the way Bi-Han is eating your cunt to remember to be quiet.

His hands move you back and forth, encouraging you to ride his face. Your thighs shake but you get the hang of it, starting to slowly grind back and forth on his face. The breaths coming from you are stuttered, catching on the moans and whimpers you’re letting out.

It’s loud and messy, the way Bi-Han eats you out, obscene slurping noises filling the room, your slick all over his face and between your thighs. As your hips gain more confidence, Bi-Han slips his tongue from your hole, flattening it against your cunt, letting you glide across it.

The new feeling has a particularly loud whimper pulling from your chest, he groans at the sounds your making, both your moans and the sound of your very wet cunt. This was all he could think about on the mission, and it was very distracting.

His hands stay on your thighs, helping your rock against his face and tongue. Your own hands grip the headboard tighter, your grinding speeding up, chasing your high that is right there.

Bi-Han groans into your cunt, loving the way you’re desperately humping his face. If you had any thoughts other than how good the pleasure feels, you’d be so embarrassed over how desperately you’re chasing your high. Using this beautiful man’s face to get yourself off.

His hands grab at your ass, spreading you cheeks and playing with the globes of your ass. Your moans increase in pitch and frequency, so fucking close, you just keep rutting against his tongue and nose. And when he hums and groans into your pussy again, you keel over, the force of the orgasm unexpected, a short cry pulled from your lips at the feeling.

Bi-Han encourages your grinding as you come down, licking up everything you gave him, the lewd slurping noises not stopping as he sucks at your cum. Eventually, you pull away, it has to be you that pulls away because Bi-Han would stay between your legs until the Earth imploded.

Shuffling back down his body, you sit on his lap, and he sits up, making sure you stay exactly where you are as he rests his back against the headboard, where you were just gripping. If you weren’t both so consumed by each other, you’d probably notice the light scratches your nails left in the wood.

Bi-Han has the most proud smile on his face, “perfect little cunt, always so sloppy and wet for me, could die between your legs and would die a happy man.”

You’re still a little fucked out from the orgasm he gave you, “Always say the most lewd things, Bi-Han.”

“Sue me for loving my girls pretty cunt.” He shrugs at you.

You crawl closer to him and press your chest to his, laying your head on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

He chortles at your comment, “For what?”

“Mm, good orgasm.”

“The day I don’t give you a good orgasm, kill me.” He says in the most serious tone.

You chuckle at him, he’s so silly, “Could never kill you.” You mumble against his skin, “Like you too much.”

He hums at your words, “Don’t tell me you’re already all fucked out?”

You shake your head, “Gimmie like 3 minutes.”

He huffs out an amused breath, but cradles you to him, hands stroking your back. As his hands move up and down your back, he decides he wants your top off and so he pulls it off. You let him, lifting your arms to make it easier for him.

Before you lay back against his chest, you pull his robe open to expose his chest, craving the skin-to-skin contact. You don’t notice but he’s watching you with so much affection, finding your movements adorable.

His hands hold onto your hips, giving you time to regather your faculties, but he’s growing impatient, as per usual. His hips rise slowly, mostly on their own accord, searching for your cunt. When he grinds up into you, his dick twitches in response, a groan pulling from him.

“Can’t wait any longer,” he declares.

He pulls your hips down to meet his, grinding your naked pussy into his dick, barely covered by his robe. Pulling away slightly, you untie his robe and open it properly, his cock pulsing and waiting for you.

Which you do make a comment about, “So needy, Bi-Han.”

“Don’t be a tease,” he grunts, not enjoying the switch in dynamic.

You hum out to him. Grabbing his cock, you leisurely pump it, giving him stimulation but nowhere near enough for his liking. His hand wraps around your own, tightening your grip under his, and he starts fucking into both your hands. His head tipping back against the headboard, groans and grunts slipping from his lips.

The sight is something to behold, your pussy drooling at the image of him fucking into your hand, head rolling back from the pleasure.

“Mmm, so pretty Bi-Han,” you comment, his cock jumping at the compliment, you smile to yourself at his reaction.

“Need your – ngh – creamy little – cu – nt – hah.” Words broken up by his gasps of pleasure.

You move your pussy right over his cock, his hand pulls away from yours in favour of gripping your hips, trying to hurry you along.

Your grip lets go of his dick, “Bi-Han, lemme do this,” you huff.

“Alright, jus – hurry up,” he groans.

Slipping the head inside is a whole ordeal, not having been fucked by him in a few days, you have to open yourself on his cock all over again. Moving down until you’re just taking the tip, Bi-Han sighs at the minute relief.

Your hole flutters on the tip of his cock, Bi-Han chokes at the feeling, “Ffffucken hell,” he grinds out.

You pull off him completely, before sliding back down and taking more of him. Bi-Han is biting his lip and clenching his hands into fists beside him, trying so hard to just let you do this at your own pace.

And you do take your own pace, pulling off him again but not sliding back down him, instead you lean down and spit onto the head of his dick, Bi-Han’s eyes watching you very intently. Groaning loudly when you grip him with your hand and stroke your spit up and down his length.

His cock wasn’t wet enough for you, but it is now, you reposition yourself and fuck yourself down onto him, nearly halfway. Your cunt spasming around his dick is like a gut punch to him, his self-restraint being tested in a very cruel way tonight.

Pulling up slightly, you keep him inside you, fucking yourself up and down on half of his cock, whimpers being ripped from your mouth at the way he fills you. Bi-Han has to tear his gaze away from where your pretty little cunt is sucking him in, afraid he’ll cum now, before he’s all the way inside. Not a fear he used to have but the way you grip him is so heavenly, he thinks he remembers, but then the next time he’s inside you it’s brand new again.

“Bi-Han, can you help please?” You ask, needing help getting to the hilt of him.

“Gods, fucken finally,” his voice is strained.

His hands hold onto your hips, picking your body up and down, helping you fuck down onto his cock. The way he manhandles you like a doll makes you dizzy. His grunts low in pitch as he fucks up into you, pulling you down at the same time. He’s still holding back, being as gentle as his resolve is allowing, not wanting to hurt you.

With Bi-Han’s help you take him completely, you’re sitting in his lap, taking his big cock, full to the brim of him. You slap his hands off your hips, wanting to do this yourself. He pulls his hands back, looking forward to you attempting to fuck yourself on his massive cock without his help, he knows, just like earlier, you will ask for help. Even if you have a very cute and determined look on your face right now.

Bi-Han’s hips twitch under you involuntarily, he’s needy, needs you to move, “C’mon sweetie, need yo – hah – u to move.”

“’ve never ridden someone before, gimmie a sec.”

A groan is ripped from his chest at your confession, his dick twitches inside you, loving the idea of being the first man you ride, his possessive streak making a return.

“Mm the first man you’ll ride, and I’ll be the – hah – fucken last too,” he says, grabbing your face in one hand, making you look at him.

His face makes your pussy clench around him, his eyes so needy, so possessive. The feel of your cunt makes him groan out. Hesitantly, you lift your hips upwards, leaving just the tip inside you before dropping back down all at once. It rips a moan from both you and Bi-Han, you almost go cross eyed, not expecting it to feel like that. He feels so much deeper than the other times, you feel so much fuller. Your cunt leaks around him an obscene amount, making a mess of his lap.

The absolute filth of the display makes you lightheaded, your eyes wet from pleasure and all you’ve mostly done is sit on it. Bi-Han’s ego grows tenfold at the sight of you, he’s going to make a smart-ass comment, but you lift all the way up again before dropping all at once. His moan is needy, so is yours.

You whimper as you keep that pace, slowly pulling up, leaving just the tip inside before dropping on him all at once, punching a moan out of him every time you do. All you’re really doing is working the both of you up, but you want to see if he’ll break, and he’s waiting for you to ask for his help.

Bi-Han is using every fibre of his being to hold onto his control, loving the way your face contorts as you spear yourself open on his cock. Loving your big wet eyes, you almost look like you’ll cry and it’s driving him feral.

His eye contact is so intense, you go to look away from him, but he tuts, “Ah, keep looking at me sweet girl, wanna see the moment – hah – you start crying from how good my cock fills you.”

You look back into his eyes, overwhelmed by everything. You stop your previous rhythm and instead hold him still inside you, clenching down on him. You can’t keep up that other pace, so you hold him inside you, and grind down into his pelvis, the contact on your clit has you gasping and fluttering around him.

Bi-Han’s head rolls back at the feeling, eyes going with it, his hips grinding up into your cunt. The sight of him alone has you deciding to cave, you don’t care anymore.

“Bi-Han, please… help.”

“Thank the – hah – ffffucken Gods!” He exclaims, gripping your hips tightly.

He plants his feet on the mattress and then he’s simultaneously pulling you up and down his cock and fucking it up into you. You actually do start crying from the pleasure, finally getting a consistent feeling of him moving inside you has you going brain dead. Eyes glazing over, still open but not seeing.

The image of your face switching into a fucked dumb expression and tears falling from your eyes brings Bi-Han immense satisfaction and pleasure, nearly blowing his load at the look on your face alone. The whimpers and whines coming from you not helping either.

Your nails scratch at his bare chest, your pleasured noises coming consistently, you don’t think you could speak even if you tried so you don’t even bother trying. Just let yourself get fucked down onto his big dick.

You’re cumming first, and you’re cumming hard. Pussy squeezing Bi-Han so tightly his pace slows, his need doesn’t though, he keeps fucking you through it.

He encourages you, praising you, “Look so fucken – hah – pretty cumming on my cock, Fffuck look at you – ngh.”

His thrusts neither slow down nor stop, he’s still fucking you like there’s no tomorrow, his cock aching with need, twitching violently inside you, his own thighs spasming slightly.

“Bi-Han you’re so – mmm – beautiful when you’re – hah – close, wanna put you – fffgh – in my mouth,” you tell him, making mindless horny comments as he gets closer to his own high.

“Oh – FFFFUCK!” He cums with a shout, it's sudden and catches him off guard.

Your mention of wanting to suck his dick arousing him to the point of orgasm, he grasps your hips and pulls you down, grinding you into his pelvis as he fills you with all his hot, sticky cum. The feeling of him filling you up making your cunt twitch around him, your thighs shaking.

He looked so good as he came, skin glistening with sweat, abs clenching as he twitched, his own thighs shuddering with his orgasm.

“You look really hot when you cum,” you inform him.

His dick jerks inside you at the compliment, “You look hotter.”

You lightly grind your hips down more, overstimulating him slightly, his response is a needy whine, his hands stop you from moving, “Gonna have to give me a second if you wanna go again.”

Moving forwards, you press your chest to his, skin to skin contact making your heart soar.

Humming you say, “Jus wanna keep you inside me.”

“Fucken – I truly think you’re trying to kill me sometimes.” He complains, though not really, he enjoys the things you say to him.

You press a kiss against his neck before you decide to give him a hickey, sucking into the pulse point on his neck, nipping at it as you pull away. Bi-Han doesn’t say anything and so you add another, to the front of his throat, and then one on his collar bone, and the other side of his neck. You keep sucking marks into his neck, chest, anywhere you can reach, when you’re finished, you lick up the length of his neck and take his lips in your own.

The kiss tastes like his skin and your cunt, he grabs the back of your head and shoves his tongue into your mouth. His kiss is fervent, filled with need and lust, you moan into it and his cock twitches to life inside you.

He grinds his hips up into you, but you refuse to move, keeping him still inside you, keeping yourself busy with his lips. He pulls you away with the grip he has on the back of your head, pulling you by the hair. You huff out at the loss of his lips.

“Now look what you’ve fucken done,” he says, referring to his painfully hard dick pushing up against your cervix.

You feel like you might melt around his cock, pussy creaming around him. You look him in the eyes, giving him an innocent smile but he knows better.

He pulls you off him, ignoring your whines of protest, and lays you on the bed, flat on your stomach. His hands spread your ass cheeks, looking at his own cum spilling out of your pussy hole. He groans at the sight, never not enjoying the image of you filled with his cum.

Grabbing one of your pillows, he lifts your hips and slides it under them, elevating your lower half slightly. He removes his robe completely, chucking it to the floor. Leaning down, he lays over your back, skin to skin, he enters you from behind in this position.

Fucking into you slowly, fucking his cum back into you. Your whines and sighs soft, enjoying the tempo he’s set. It feels intimate, his hands travel to your own, interlocking your fingers as he leisurely fucks into you from behind. Quiet groans and grunts falling from his lips at the feel of your slippery cunt. His cum is leaking back out of you onto the sheets.

His cock drags in and out of you at a slow pace, one that is pleasurable but as you get needier, you crave him harder, deeper.

Your need evident in your drooling cunt, lower halves getting slicker as time slips by, “More, please – hah – Bi-Han.”

“No, take it like this, greedy little thing,” he groans out from above you.

It feels like he fucks you like that forever, so close to the edge but never tipping you over it, his hands eventually travel back to your hips, he pulls your knees up so you’re resting on them and not your stomach. His pace picking up at the change in position, unleashing a punishing pace.

Skin slapping skin filling the room, along with the absolutely lewd, wet squelching sounds of your pussy. Getting fucked so well on him, fucking you back on himself, moving you how he pleases. Your face is pushed into the mattress and you’re dribbling against the linen, tears streaming down your cheeks again, the overstimulation almost too much.

Bi-Han is grunting and groaning above you, the most feral noises coming from him, you realise in this moment what he’s attempting to do right now, and you go to crawl away from him, not wanting to make an even bigger mess.

He growls out at you in disapproval, “You’re going nowhere – hah – sweet girl, gonna have you squirting on me again, ffffuck–”

“Mhmm, too messy,” you shake your head against the bed.

“You’re always messy, sweetie, got the creamiest ffffucken – ngh – cunt.” His words make your cunt spasm around him, “Ah, getting so fucken close aren’t you?” He observes.

You shake your head at him again but one of his hands comes around to your front and he lands controlled slaps to your clit, making your cunt spasm around him even more. One particularly firm slap to your clit has you cumming with a shout, the pleasure too much, making you tingly all over.

Bi-Han is ecstatic at the view of you squirting on his cock, it pulls his own orgasm from him almost as soon as it happens, he fucks you both through it, gritting his teeth against the force of his orgasm. Shouting expletives and your name in the same sentence, his own orgasm overwhelming him. He ends up freezing a portion of the beds sheets with his momentary loss of control.

You’re puffing against the bed, on the verge of passing out from your insane orgasm. Bi-Han pulls out of you slowly, careful with you as he separates from you. His eyes lock onto your cunt and the way it's spasming from your orgasm, pushing his cum out as it does.

He's mesmerised by it for a moment, using all of his remaining self control to not lean down and lick you clean with his tongue.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Bi-Han checks in on you when he catches his breath.

You nod your head, eyes closed, “Mhmm, might pass out.” You puff out.

He chuckles at you, enjoying the tear streaks staining your cheeks, and the absolute fucked out look on your face.

He tucks your hair out of your face and leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He leaves and comes back with a wet cloth, wiping up the mess between your legs. You’re mostly out of it but when you come back to, he’s redressed you in your blue pyjama set, he’s also back in his robe.

He’s lying beside you in the bed, carefully watching your face.

“Did I actually pass out?” you ask.

“Yes, was a little worried about you actually.”

You smile at him, “Cute.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you into him, both of you on your sides facing each other, embracing. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“You’re changing the sheets this time,” he comments.

“Wrong,” you say.

He groans, “What’s in it for me if I change the sheets again?”

“I’ll give you head.”

He’s all too happy with that deal, “Done.”

❆˖°

Part five

A/N: Thank you so much for reading the whole thing! This update for some reason ended up being so long which is funny because I didn’t think myself capable of writing something this long when I first started writing, like 5k was a feat for me and now I’ve just dropped a 16k fic. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it as much as the first three chapters!!! If you have any thoughts, feelings, questions, observations about the chapter, anything, feel free to message me! Requests are open and like usual after an update I will be working through a few of those before the next part <333

[writingquestionsanswered]

I was wondering if you could help me with writing scenes where the poverty character is listening to others talk but not talking themselves? Sometimes I worry it's almost like they get forgotten in between all the actions and dialog happening between other characters

POV Character Listening to Conversation

1 - Give Them Lines - I know this is a little bit "Thanks, Captain Obvious," but it is worth considering why it's important for the POV character to only listen and not participate in the conversation at all. Even if the POV character has nothing to add to the topic being discussed, there might be an opportunity or two for them to ask questions or react to what's being said. For example:

Character B's brow crumpled. "Why? What time did they get there?"

"I don't know. Two, maybe three a.m.," replied Character C.

POV character hissed through their teeth. "Talk about early risers..."

2 - Give Them Action - Even if there's a good reason they can't participate in the conversation, like maybe because it's not their place (like a child listening while their parents talk to other adults), they still exist during the conversation, and you can illustrate that by having them interact physically with other characters or the environment. For example:

Character B's brow crumpled. "Why? What time did they get there?"

"I don't know. Two, maybe three a.m.," replied Character C.

POV character craned their neck to hear better.

Or...

Character B's brow crumpled. "Why? What time did they get there?"

"I don't know. Two, maybe three a.m.," replied Character C.

POV character flipped to the time sheet on the clipboard and handed it to Character C. "Oops, I was off a bit. Four-thirty a.m.," C amended.

3 - Give them exposition - Another option is to give the POV character some exposition, letting them describe their observations to the reader, process what they're seeing and hearing, and express how they feel about it. So, for example:

Character B's brow crumpled. "Why? What time did they get there?"

"I don't know. Two, maybe three a.m.," replied Character C.

POV character craned their neck to hear better. The noise from the nearby freight yard made it difficult to hear what B and C were saying. POV's nerves were already on edge without the added fear of missing important details. But C was soft-spoken on the best of days. You could be standing right next to them and not hear what they were saying.

In most cases you're probably going for a combination of these techniques, depending on the limitations of the situation.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[mamaestapa]

Colds and Cuddles|| Jamie Drysdale x reader

• pairing: Jamie Drysdale x reader

• summary: Jamie takes care of you and gives you all the cuddles you need when you come down with a bad cold

• warnings: sickness, colds/sinus infections, tooth rotting fluff, Jamie being the sweetest human ever<3

You sat up in your bed, propped up with a couple pillows and sniffling softly as you reached for the box of tissues sitting on your bedside table. You pulled a lotion infused tissue out of the box, bringing it up to your red nose. A look of disgust took over your features as you blowed harshly into the tissue.

You definitely had a cold or a sinus infection.

You started to feel under the weather after your night out with friends on Friday night. You shrugged it off as just a little congestion since the weather has been in fluctuating like crazy in Philly. However you woke up Sunday morning feeling much worse.

You picked up your phone from the bedside table and decided to call Jamie, who would be on his way home from morning practice. The phone rang three times before Jamie picked up, his soft tone on the other line making you smile.

"Hi pretty girl, how you feeling?"

"Hi Jamie baby," you sniffled, cringing at the sound of your nasally voice as you spoke. You laughed slightly, "Like shit."

You could hear Jamie's frown through the phone as he spoke, "I'm sorry baby. Do you want me to pick anything up for you?"

"I don't think so, just you please."

"Of course, I'll be right over."

You smiled, sniffling softly once again, "See you in a bit, I love you J."

"I love you more, baby."

You hung up the phone with a soft sigh and another sniffle. You hated being congested. You hated being sick. You just wanted Jamie home so he could cuddle with you. Jamie was the best when it came to cuddling, and he always knew how to make you feel better.

You got up from bed, deciding to fix freshen up a bit before your boyfriend got home. Since getting a new place together, you and Jamie only live about ten minutes away from the arena so he'd be home fairly quickly as long as traffic wasn't too crazy. You brushed your hair put on one of Jamie's old Ducks sweatshirts, one he had worn during his rookie year that you loved so much. After freshening up in the bathroom, you got back into bed and picked up your phone that was laying on your pillow.

Jamie had texted you, letting know you he was on his way and that he was stopping at the store to pick some things up for you. You smiled warmly at his message as you replied. Jamie was the best boyfriend.

About ten minutes latter, you heard the front door to the apartment open. Jamie walked down the hallway and into your bedroom. A frown appeared on his face as he looked at you with sad eyes. You looked miserable, propped up on your pillows and snuggled under the covers. Your eyes were droopy, heavy with sleep and sickness.

"Hi baby," Jamie cooed as he walked over to you. You smiled softly at your sweet boyfriend, "Hey Jamie Baby."

Jamie got close to you and placed the back of his hand on your flushed cheek. You brought a hand up from under the covers, placing it on Jamie's forearm as he checked you for a fever.

"How are you feeling?"

You sniffled softly, "Pretty shitty, "but at least now I have my hot boyfriend here to take care of me."

Jamie shook his head, laughing at what you had just said. Your comment made his cheeks flush, matching the shade of pink like yours. However, Jamie's wasn't from a fever. Yours was.

"You definitely have a fever." He observed, flipping his hand over so he could cup your cheek. You nuzzled your face against his palm, making Jamie smile as he started to softly stroke your cheek with his thumb.

You nodded, "I took my temp after I called you. It was one hundred one point four."

Jamie's smile faltered as he took in your appearance. Your cheeks were flushed from a fever, your eyes were heavy with dark purple under eyes, and you had a pink nose from the constant dripping and blowing.

"Does anything hurt?"You closed your eyes, wincing softly, "My head. My throat too, but I think it's just drainage. I cant stop sneezing either."

"You poor thing," Jamie said, voice laced with sorrow as he continued to gently stroke out cheek, "can I get you anything?"

"Just you," you said as you smiled softly at Jamie, "just you holding me would be great." Jamie smiled at you as he dropped his hand from your cheek. He slid his tennis shoes off and walked over to the opposite side of the be, his side of the bed. Jamie sat down on the bed with a soft groan as his tired limbs thanked him for taking a much needed break. Jamie carefully laid down beside you, holding his arm up for you to cuddle into his side. You adjusted your position so you were now tucked into Jamie's side, resting your head on his chest.

"Are you comfy, sweetheart?"

"Very." you nodded, pulling the comforter up so the material covered Jamie too.

"Good." Jamie said softly. He brought his left hand down to your head, running his fingers through your hair while and scratching your scalp every so often. He hoped it would lull you into a much needed sleep, which it did, but not before you thanked your boyfriend for being so sweet and taking care of you.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Jamie baby."

Jamie leaned down and pressed a gentle, loving kiss to the crown of your head, "There's no need to thank me, baby. It's what I'm here." He squeezed you gently as he finished speaking, "I hate seeing my girl sick. I'd do anything to make you feel better."

"Anything you say?"

Jamie shook his head, chuckling softly, "Not that. Gotta get you feeling better first, Mrs. Drysdale.”

"Mrs. Drysdale? I must've missed my own wedding then." You teased, poking Jamie in his side. Jamie grabbed your left hand and laced his fingers with yours. He started to play with the gold band of your simple engagement ring that was wrapped perfectly around your ring finger.

"I'm sorry, future Mrs. Drysdale."

You chuckled as a smile pulled at your lips. The smile didn't stay on your face for long though as the pain in your throat started to feel worse.

"Hopefully I'll be better tomorrow." You said after cleaning your throat. Jamie hummed, rubbing your arm lovingly as he spoke, "I hope so too. Now," he brought his hand back up to your head, slowly running his fingers through your hair once again, "get some rest, okay?"

"Okay." you said quietly as you sniffled. Tiredness was already taking over, and soon enough you were fast asleep on Jamie's chest. Jamie didn't mind if he got sick, all he cared about was making sire you were comfortable and feeling better.

Being tucked into Jamie's side and wrapped in his arms did just that.

hi loves!!

not only could all us jamie girlies use some fluff after his injury today, but i’ve been promising to get this fic out for weeks now.

life happened though and college was kicking my booty once again, BUT it’s finally done and updated

this is dedicated to @guerrillateezsworld (who i said i’d write this for weeks ago. thank you for being so patient my love. i appreciate it so much and i hope you enjoyed this!) and to @mxqlss (i hope you feel better soon my sweet!) i love you both, thank you for always being so sweet and supportive🤍🤍 you’re AMAZING!

as always, thank you all so much for all the love and support you continue to give me personally and on my writing. it means the world!🫂🤍

now jamie drysdale…PLEASE be okay :( the girlies and me especially cannot take you being hurt again. so please please be okay

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Temptation - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 2

Pairing: Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Part 1, Part 3

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You're Quinn's best friend, who can't hold back their urges for Ethan any longer.

A/N - I had a few requests for a part 2, so here it is! Thank you guys for reading:)

The day was dragging by incredibly slow as you waited for Quinn to leave for her date. The sexual tension kept building every time you had an interaction with Ethan. He was in the living room playing video games, as the two of you were trying to find her phone.

“It probably slipped between the cushions,” you suggested, as she continued her search.

“Ethan, move,” she said, remembering that his current spot was where she was last sitting.

“You could ask a little nicer,” he said, continuing to play his game.

“Ethan, please move. I need my phone,” she said. He sighed, pausing the game.

Once he’d moved and she continued her search, he walked up behind you.

“I can’t wait to have you all to myself,” he whispered in your ear. A blush crept up on your cheeks.

You glanced over to Quinn, who was now on the floor feeling around for her phone underneath the couch.

“She leaves in an hour,” you whispered, your eyes still on your friend. You felt his hand run over your hip, but it was quickly pulled away as Quinn cheered to herself.

“Found it,” she said, holding up the phone. “Help me get ready.”

As the two of you were in her room, and she’d already changed out of four different outfits, she was really trying to convince you to come with her.

“His friend is so hot, though,” she said, once she’d finally decided on what to wear.

“You’ve told me this, but I still don’t want to go,” you said with a small laugh.

“You were just complaining the other day about how you haven’t had sex in months,” she said, rolling her eyes, “Plus, my loser brother will probably be hitting on you all night.”

“So what if he does?” flew out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Wait…Do you have a thing for my brother?” she asked, a look of disgust on her face.

“No,” you lied, “I’m just saying, it doesn’t bother me if he does. He’s got a crush, no big deal.”

After Quinn was ready and her date was outside, you walked with her to the door. You passed the living room to see Ethan still in front of the tv, intently playing the game he was playing earlier. She paused and looked at you before walking out the door.

“If he tries anything, I’ll kill him,” she said, referring to her brother.

“Please, you and I both know how innocent he is,” you smirked at her, “You look great! Be safe, babe.”

As she made her way to the car and you closed the door, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist from behind. You smiled at the feeling, but waited to see Quinn leave before you turned around to kiss him. The last thing you wanted was for her to run back inside and see you kissing her brother.

“I’m innocent, huh?” he asked, pushing you against the door. His hand traveled from your hip, over your chest, and up around your neck.

“Fuck,” you whispered, the light squeeze he gave your throat making you throb between your legs.

“I’ll show you how innocent I am,” he said lowly with lust-filled eyes.

He lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his room. The way he was kissing you had your head spinning, the intensity of it stronger than the night before.

Once you were in his room, he held you in place up against the wall. He started to trail kisses down your neck, and you bit your bottom lip to hold in your moans. As you felt his erection pressing against you, you moved your hips against him, trying to give your clit a little friction.

He gasped as he pulled you away from the wall and set you down on your feet, leading you back to his bed. Once you were laying across the comforter, he stopped to observe you. Your fast breathing, the way the glow from the sunset lit your eyes up as it poured through his window, the way you were reaching for him. He’d be lying if he said his crush wasn’t turning into actual feelings.

“Ethan, I need you,” you whined, as he crawled in the bed to hover over you.

“Where do you need me, baby?” he said, as you grabbed one of his hands, leading it to your clothed pussy.

As he rubbed you through the material, you were still trying to keep in the sounds that kept trying to escape your mouth.

“Don’t hold back, let me hear you,” he whispered, placing kisses along your jawline.

The sounds that were flooding out of your mouth made him harder than he already was. He pulled his hand away to lift your shirt up, pulling it over your head. He reached his hand into one of your bra cups, his large hand gently squeezing you. You lifted up a little, reaching back to unhook it, so he would have better access to your chest.

His mouth placed gentle kisses down your neck and chest, stopping at each breast to place kisses to your nipples. He kissed further down, grabbing onto the leggings, pulling those and your panties down in one swift motion.

He pulled his shirt off as he settled between your legs, gently squeezing the flesh of your thighs. His hands inched closer and closer to your dripping core, the anticipation making your heart race. Two of his fingers rubbed up and down your clit, before he slid those fingers into you with ease.

“That feels so good,” you moaned out, as he curved his fingers just right. He leaned forward, mouth latching onto your clit. Your legs started to shake at his actions, your orgasm building quickly inside of you. Your hand reached down to his head, running your fingers through his hair. You gently tugged it, causing him to moan against your clit. The vibrations from his moan sent you over the edge, him holding your hips down as the waves of your orgasm made you shake.

“I think I like having my hair pulled,” he said with a laugh as he sat up, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

You smirked at him as you grabbed one of his biceps, pulling him closer to you.

“I wonder what else you like,” you said, as he slid his sweatpants halfway down his thighs.

He lined up at your entrance, gently sliding inside you. You both gasped at the feeling, him loving the way you felt around him, and you loving the way he filled you up.

His thrusts got faster as he started to pound into you, you moving your hips with his. As he hovered over you, you ran your hands down his back. The closer you got to another orgasm, your nails drug across his skin. He gasped at the feeling.

“Keep doing that,” he said, grabbing one of your legs and putting it over his shoulder.

 One of his hands reached town to tease your clit as he felt you start to tighten around him. You came with a cry as he drilled into you. He started to chase his own orgasm, when you slid your nails back down his back a little harder than before.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, pulling out and releasing his cum all over your stomach.

 After he grabbed a towel and helped clean you up, you snuggled up to him.

“I really like this,” you whispered, your fingers tracing across his chest.

“Me too. Not just the sex, though. I wish I had a chance with you,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“You do,” you said, as you sat up to look at him.

“Not really…I mean, my sister would never let it happen,” he said, looking down.

“What if she doesn’t know about it?” you smirked as he looked up.

“What about dates and stuff?” he asked, and you could tell he really wanted to have the full experience of you being his.

“Quinn doesn’t have to know,” you said, “at least not right now.”

He pulled you into a kiss, and you started to realize how sweaty you were from the amazing sex you’d just had.

“I’m going to take a shower, you wanna join me?” you asked, jumping up and heading towards Quinn and Ethan’s shared bathroom.

You turned on the water, adjusting it to the perfect temperature before stepping in. You saw him through the glass as you stood under the water.

“You coming?” Your playful tone had him smiling as he opened the shower door.

You grabbed your loofa that you keep at Quinn’s, lathering it in your body wash. As you started to rub it against your body, Ethan took the loofa out of your hand and started to do it himself. The sweet intimacy of his actions made your heart flutter. He gently washed your body, kissing the freshly cleaned skin after the water washed the suds away. After you were clean, you grabbed his loofa, and started to clean him. As you walked around him to wash his back, you gasped.

“What?” he asked, a hint of panic in his voice.

“You have so many scratches down your back right now,” you said, running your fingers over the raised skin. “I really did a number on you, huh?”

“More than you even know,” he said, turning around to kiss you under the water.

You placed gentle kisses down his neck as he held you close. You soon felt his hard cock pressing against you. You reached down, stroking him as a small moan left his lips. You gently pushed him back out of the direct flow of the water, before dropping to your knees. Your eyes connected with him as you licked his tip, before taking him in your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered as you bobbed your head. You felt his hand reach down to hold your head as you moved. He soon started to move his hips a little as you started to gag around him. The sight of you on your knees in front of him had his orgasm quickly approaching. You could tell he was close by how fast he was breathing, so you took him as far back in your throat as you could. As you gagged around him, his eyes started flutter as he came.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he said as you stood up.

“It isn’t fair if I’m the only one getting head,” you shrugged, as you shut off the shower.

After you both dried off and had clean clothes on, you and Ethan were trying to decide what you wanted for dinner.

“Let’s just order pizza. It’s quick and I’m starving,” you said, as he pulled out his phone to order it.

The two of you started to watch a movie as you waited for the pizza to arrive. You weren’t sure what you were watching, because you and Ethan spent your alone time talking and learning more about each other. It wasn’t long before he got the notification that the pizza had arrived, and as you both sat at the table eating, you got a text from Quinn.

Quinn: Hey, I won’t be back ‘til the morning. Is Ethan being weird?

You: Oh stop, quit being so worried about him. Have a good night, let me know if you need me!

“Quinn won’t be home until tomorrow morning,” you said, as Ethan smiled.

“Sleep in my bed with me tonight,” he said. As tempting as that was, what if Quinn decided to come home early?

“I’ll sleep in your room for a few hours, but if Quinn comes home and I’m not in her bed, that’ll be bad,” you said, taking another bite of your food.

“You’re right.”

After you both finished eating, you went back to the living room. You talked about everything, from your biggest fears to what you wanted to do with your lives. The plans you had for your future lined up with his, and it was crazy how much you had in common with him. You started to get sleepy, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You want to go to bed?” he asked, you lazily nodded.

After you both brushed your teeth, you crawled into his bed beside him. He wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the sunlight peering through his curtains.

“Fuck,” you whispered, sitting up and checking the time on your phone. Ethan stirred awake at the loss of contact, rubbing his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as you quickly jumped up.

“I never set my alarm.” You quickly kissed him before walking out of the room, going to Quinn’s room.

As you opened her door, you heard the front door unlock in the otherwise silent house. You quickly ran in and jumped in her bed, trying your best to make it look like you’d slept in it last night. She soon walked in, and your heart started to race.

“Oh cool, you’re up. I’m hungry. Want breakfast?” she asked, her hair an absolute mess from the night before. You giggled at her appearance, as you hopped back out of her bed.

“So, how was last night?” you asked, as you mixed pancake batter.

“It was good. I think I’m going to go out with him again soon,” she said, rummaging through the cabinet, hoping to find something that would get rid of her headache.

“I’m happy you had fun,” you said.

At that moment, Ethan walked into the kitchen with just his sweatpants on. He started talking about how he got the best sleep ever the night before, and you were so thankful that Quinn couldn’t see the smile on your face as you flipped the pancakes. Ethan walked over to a cabinet to get a glass for some orange juice, when you glanced over and noticed all the scratches down his back. You were hoping Quinn wouldn’t notice.

“What the fuck?!” she said, glancing back and forth between you and Ethan.

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 1 2 3 4 6 7 💐

Eddie turned around, finding none other than the flower nazi. His nametag actually said Steve. 

He had a leaf stuck in his hair, and his nose was abnormally rosy. Going by that and his nasal tone, he clearly had a cold. He sneezed, then looked annoyed at himself for doing so. “Ugh, sorry,” he apologized. 

He was fucking adorable. It made Eddie smile. “Don’t be. I don’t really need help.” Not with flowers, anyway, just with everything else about his life. “I’m only browsing.” 

It was a weird response, he realized. A guy like him, who looked like he belonged anywhere else, loitering in a shop like this. Just browsing. Right. Steve probably thought he was a creep. 

Steve was surprised to hear that the man wasn’t looking for anything. Last time, he had bought something, so Steve had assumed he was a returning customer. He had been staring at the wedding arrangement, so maybe he was trying to figure out if Harrington Floral was the best place to get them from.

“That’s some talent you’ve got,” Eddie added, pointing to the display.

Steve felt himself flush. “Thanks,” he said softly, ducking his head bashfully. It wasn’t usually guys who were doling out compliments on the displays. Typically, they just asked for his advice on what they should buy for their significant others.

The redness that bloomed on Steve’s cheeks was just plain delightful. It could have been due to his illness, but Eddie was pretty sure it was a reaction to his compliment. His smile widened. “You made it, right?”

“Yes, I did. I make all the displays.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, missing the leaf by a mere centimeter. “I think I saw you last month when I was building one in the window over there. Are you sure you’re not interested in anything?”

Instead of answering, Eddie reached out and plucked the leaf out of Steve’s hair. “Sorry, you had a little bud-dy trying to catch a ride there. Was distracting the hell out of me.” Eddie showed him the small, curvy leaf. 

Steve laughed, which made him cough a little. After clearing his throat, he got back to business. Steve was all about closing a sale, so he pushed a little. “Are you or someone you know getting married? I can, uh…” he thought quickly, “give you a free bouquet as a testimony to how well our flowers will hold up. I was just pruning the roses before you came in. What do you think about a bouquet of them?”

Steve remembered Eddie. And he’d laughed at Eddie’s horrible pun. But Eddie was caught off guard by the questions and the offering. Steve was observant. “I can’t let you do that,” he said. “My uncle is getting married. Hopefully. He hasn’t popped the question yet.”

It would be kind of terrible of him to accept free flowers if it didn’t work out and they never ordered any.

“That’s exciting,” Steve responded.

Genuinely, he felt like it was. Steve loved love. Working in a flower shop would be hard if he was bitter about being single. Also, the fact that someone else around his age wasn’t getting married made him feel a bit better about his own love life. Lately, it seemed like all his friends were getting hitched.

Eddie twirled a piece of hair around his finger, contemplating. He pocketed the little leaf. “I’m meeting the bride-to-be tonight. I suppose making a nice first impression wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He could give the flowers to Wayne to present to Kathleen when she came over. “How much for half a dozen?”

That was probably all he could afford, but he would be paying.

Eddie wasn’t selling as much anymore. Just weed, no powders or pills. Not since he’d discovered that one of his regulars had recently overdosed on Molly. He was at least partially responsible for that. He should have questioned the steadily increasing amount the guy was buying, but he had only been thinking about the money.

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.” Steve had no intention of taking any money for the bouquet. 

He walked around the store and started building it. Steve picked out four roses in red and pink, then added two pastel-dyed Asiatic lilies and sprinkled in a few strands of baby’s breath.

When he was finished, he went to the counter to put them down. He grabbed the twine and unrolled some tissue paper. “I’m sure there won’t be any more customers tonight. I’m kind of in charge, so I can totally give you these for free. Because I want to.”

Eddie pressed his lips together briefly, walking over and planting his forearms on the counter. He wasn’t some charity case. He didn’t like having debts, either. Maybe Steve had seen the type of clothes he wore and automatically assumed Eddie was trailer park trash who couldn’t afford it.

But Steve was smiling at him, looking sweet as a goddamn sugar cookie, and Eddie relaxed, rejecting the thought. That just didn’t seem right.

(Though why Steve wanted to give anyone, let alone Eddie, free flowers was a mystery.)

“You’re the boss, huh?” Eddie said. Steve looked young to own the shop, but maybe he was one of the Harringtons.

The name rang a bell. Steve Harrington. Dustin used to talk about a Steve during D&D. Gushed more than talked, really. Was he the same one?

“Technically, it’s my mom’s shop, but I’ve been running it for a while now,” Steve said. He couldn’t take all the credit.

Eddie gently drummed the counter, rings click-clacking as he watched those nimble fingers cut, tie, and wrap. His mom’s store. Well, wasn’t that precious.

Steve gave the bouquet one last critical look and a fluff with his fingers before handing it over. “With these, I think you’ll make the best impression. Maybe your uncle will even pop the question tonight!” Steve was excited for the groom to be even though he didn’t know him.

Eddie accepted the bouquet and looked down at it. “Thank you. It’s stunning.” Kind of like you.

He didn’t say that last part out loud, though he thought it hard enough that he’d probably projected it into Steve’s head.

Steve felt his face heat again. He didn’t know why he was reacting this way to the compliments. When women complimented his arrangements, he barely blinked.

Eddie brought the bouquet to his nose to smell its perfume. It brought another smile to his face before he lowered it. If Kathleen didn’t end up liking them, she was crazy.

Steve watched Eddie, grinning. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Eddie’s gaze flickered up. He lowered the bouquet. Why were they both smiling like fucking idiots? “Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. Let me get you a card—you know, in case your uncle does propose and will need flowers from somewhere.” Steve grabbed one of the embellished business cards from the stack beside the register.  

Eddie reached out to take it, and Steve sneezed again just as their fingers brushed. It was a big sneeze that made his face screw up and nearly blew him backward. Luckily, he managed to cover his nose before he bombed Eddie. Eddie tried not to laugh at his irritated expression and soft whine as he sniffled.

Eddie pocketed the card and tugged his handkerchief out at the same time. “Here,” he offered kindly, holding it out to Steve.

It was his favorite hanky, his pirate one with the skull and bones, but it was the least he could do. 

Without thinking much about it, Steve took it and blew his nose. He let out a soft sigh, feeling a little better. Then he realized what he’d done. “Sorry…this is kinda gross now. Do you want it back?” 

“Oh no—no, that’s yours now,” Eddie said hastily. “I insist. Consider it a token of my gratitude.” He lowered himself in a teasing bow. “Farewell, Steve, fine sir.”

So, so fine. Even with all the snot.

Eddie backed out of the store, still bent over for extra theatricality. When he straightened up, Steve looked confused but was red in the cheeks again. Score.

On the ride home, Eddie almost missed a turn because he kept glancing at the bouquet.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

[greenboyfriend]

choose a fantastic green thing (tarot reading)

"what do you need to know?" image 1: ahh, a classic. woman with fish. iridescent fish, no less. image 2: women want him, men want to be him. whether you love him or hate him, you can't deny... he is a bug. image 3: the bowl. image source not everything may resonate with you, and that's ok! take what does & leave the rest. don't force it.

1.・。.・゜✭

hello friends. what a nice pull! you may be giving or receiving a gift as an act of charity or kindness. it seems like you’re unaware of something, but it’s not a bad thing. consider it blissful ignorance. it may be wise to stay in this state, shunning negativity/corruption. also, some of you may be dealing with children/ a child? maybe someone is having a baby?!

nevertheless, you’re trusting your intuition at this time, and it’s serving you. however, you may be a bit apprehensive about a change/transition you’re going through. know that it’ll happen no matter what you do! you’ll have to eliminate excess one way or another, cutting down to the bare essentials. it’s scary to go through change where you’re unsure what will happen, but you’ve got to do it at some point.

and anyway, you’ve got your intuition at your side. tune in with yourself however you know best, whether that be taking a walk outside, listening to your favorite song, etc, it will help you to regroup.

being sympathetic and loving towards others will also work in your favor. try to open up, and give others what you would like to receive yourself. “forgiving and forgetting” may also be relevant for some of you.

(6 of cups, death reversed, ace of cups)

2.・。.・゜✭

holy FUCK, you need to pump the brakes. holy FUCK, whatever it is, SLOW THE HELL DOWN!!! four of swords literally came flying out of the deck before i even got the chance to shuffle. take this as the universe/your future self urging you, begging you, pleading on hands and knees, to CHILL OUT!

yes, we all know you are very determined and forthright. yes, we all know it, and we all know that has turned out very well for you in other situations. however. at this point, you’re gambling whether things will go your way, and you can tell. loosen your grip on those reigns! resting ain’t so bad!! not every moment needs to be jam packed with activities.

i feel like you know that, but you don’t want to accept that it’s true, or can’t. despite this, you’re feeling the effects. the 10 of swords spells exhaustion & burn out– finding yourself depleted, full of swords, and on the ground (in vain); all the while, the call for action has not even arrived yet. 

consider yourself. if you need to have a goal, think of it this way: how can you most effectively relax? what activities (or lackthereof) will make you feel the most refreshed when the time comes to get moving again? in a sense, take all the anxious energy you’re feeling, and put it to use by taking care of yourself. you’re not going to be able to succeed in the way you want to if you’re completely exhausted from ignoring your own needs.

so relax! if you’re not sure how, beg the universe for help. that’s what i did, and now, i have a cat. 

(the chariot reversed, 4 of swords, knight of swords, 2 of wands, 10 of wands)

3.・。.・゜✭

your cards strike me as very sweet, my bowl lovers… after going through a trauma in your past, you’re working towards healing by opening up to those around you. now is a great time to be intimate, and not just in the romance way! maybe you’re interested in moving forwards with this, but you aren’t sure which path (which person/people, perhaps) to take. not to fear, however!! page of cups is here! let your heart/intuition lead you, and don’t be afraid to have some fun with it.

consider your emotions exactly as they are: does this person make you feel happy? secure? take your knee jerk reactions and mix them with your observations. after that, the choice should be clear.

six of swords is not always the most fun of cards (typically denoting healing, sloughing through the slop, ect) but trust that where you’re going certainly is… a blast, that is!! it may be a celebration you’re heading towards, but more than anything, it seems like you’ll gain a new sense of freedom. with the page of cups and six of swords present, this is likely how you approach your feelings & relationships, and how they’ve been impacted by your past. expect to shed some light on these patterns, and even overcome them entirely!*

these last two cards cement this message. if you go after what you want, you’re certain to meet success! it can be scary, and it might take a while, but keep trying! you can do this!!!

*for the time being, anyway. progress is not linear! sometimes it's 2 steps forwards to go 1 step back and that's ok!!!

(4 of wands reversed, page of cups, 6 of swords, 7 of cups reversed)

(pulled later: 6 of wands reversed, page of pentacles)

Ws all around my friends

[mrsjellymunson]

Candyman, Candyman, Candyman

A Valentine’s Eddie Munson 5+1 fic

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x gn!reader, Eddie Munson x masc!reader, Eddie Munson x you

Summary: The Valentines 5+1 that nobody asked for (not even me 😆) Five times you get to give Eddie a kiss, and one time he kisses you back

W/C: ~2.1k

C/W: SFW, FLUFF. Kissing, a pet name. This is pure fluff, but my blog is generally 18+ so I’d prefer it if you were over 18. Reader wears lipgloss. Reader and Eddie are both over 18. Inspired by this supersweet fic by @hellfirenacht which I hope it’s okay for me to mention! I wasn’t planning to write for Valentine’s, but here we are, so thanks for the inspo. Also, I should probably mention at this point that I have no idea how candygrams actually work 🫣

To anyone looking from the outside, you’re a preppy honours student, but you have a dark and curious side. You’re usually all pressed shirts, woven fabrics and tweed, but you’ve sometimes been known to wear those starched shirts pulled a little too tight, and you occasionally add a chain belt or some chunky boots.

You don’t tell anyone that on the weekends you like to experiment with heavy eyeliner and leather accessories. Or that you’ve been spending a lot of time recently staring at one fellow student in particular a little more than is absolutely polite.

So when you accidentally overhear a private conversation about a certain metalhead, and the opportunity for helping out with the school’s annual Valentine's fundraiser presents itself, you sign up as fast as you can.

Once a year the school allows students to organise cards and candygrams to be sent around for Valentine’s Day. It lasts the full school week, and the premise is fairly simple. The pink and red fliers have been floating around for weeks already, declaring:

MONDAY Send a lipstick kiss on a heart shaped card $1 TUESDAY Add a lollipop $2 WEDNESDAY Send a card and blow them a kiss! $3 THURSDAY Send a card, plus a kiss on the cheek! $4 FRIDAY For when you’re really serious! Send them a card, and a kiss on the lips! $5 Sign Up In The Cafeteria!

Only the week before, Eddie Munson had been on a tirade in the lunchroom about the commercialisation of human affection, and the unrealistic expectations of binary, monogamous relationships.

You think perhaps he shouldn’t be one to talk, given the content of that conversation that you eavesdropped on involves Eddie's band mates knowing he’s never been kissed. They’ve pooled their resources and plan to surprise him during Valentine’s week.

Everything’s anonymously ordered, so no one knows who’s sending things. And you’ve finagled a position on the volunteering committee that allows you to choose which volunteers deliver which messages. Handy.

You’ve also invested in a new red-tinted, strawberry flavour lipgloss. It’s all going well so far. The only thing you can’t predict is whether or not Eddie Munson likes strawberries…

Monday comes around quickly. Kisses on cards day. Quite a few have been ordered and there are lots to get delivered around the various classes, so there’s four of you from the fundraising committee delivering them to his class.

Thanks to your position on the committee, you know it’s your lipgloss on Eddie’s card. When you sidle past his desk to deliver it to him you watch him pull back slightly, his eyes open wide, shocked that anyone would send him anything. You guess he’s more used to pranks and jokes than any genuine affection, and it hurts your heart.

You want to give him a hint as to whose kiss is on his card. Trying to be as subtle as you can, and making sure he’s watching you, you catch his eye and bite the side of your lower lip ever so slightly. It puffs your lips out a bit and you see his attention is drawn to your mouth. Success?

There’s a general clamour in the class as recipients and observers alike wave their cards and ponder the potential senders, but Eddie’s quiet for once. He’s tentatively running his fingers over the edge of the card, not picking it up or pulling it towards him, treating it like it’s a potential threat. Just before your group leaves to attend another class, you see him subtly runs his fingertips over the shiny stain.

You don’t know it but later, when he’s alone, he brings the card up to his face to get a closer look at that lipgloss kiss, and he swears he can smell strawberries…

Tuesday means lollipop day. You and your fellow volunteers have more cards to deliver, this time accompanied by little heart shaped candies on sticks. Again, quite a few get delivered, and again, you make sure you’ve got Eddie’s.

As you enter his classroom for the second day in a row, your face is coy and you give him a little smirk. You make your way around the class, distributing cards and candies.

To Eddie’s ongoing surprise, you stop in front of his desk again. As you hand Eddie his card, there are a couple of whoops and hollers from his friends behind him. It’s not part of the deal, but you can’t resist, and before you pass Eddie’s candy to him you press one flat side of the lollipop to your lips, handing it over quickly afterwards, saying, “Enjoy your candy, Eddie.”

Wednesday - blow a kiss day. There’s fewer orders for this service, so only two of you today. You blow a couple of short kisses to others in the room, making it quick and perfunctory.

Again, Eddie’s shocked when you stop in front of his desk, seeming to look to each side of him in an attempt to work out whether you’ve really chosen him again. You pass him his third card, and when you blow Eddie his kiss, it’s slow and seductive, your lips pursing and smacking against your fingers, and you blow across them long and slow, making sure your breath reaches his face.

His classmates erupt, and Eddie’s certain he smells strawberries again…

Thursday. Kiss on the cheek day.

There are fewer orders today, and you're the only volunteer delivering to Eddie’s class. It’s a little awkward and you feel very ‘on show’, but as soon as you see Eddie is in class your desire to put your plan into action overrides any awkwardness.

You give one girl a peck on the cheek, she’s cute and blushes before saying a quiet, “Thank you.”

A jock on the other side of the room is next. He’s less gallant and tries to turn his head at the last moment, but you’re wise to such tricks and he doesn’t get the lip contact he wants, earning you a scowl from him and a round of applause from his cronies.

You can see Eddie’s friends almost vibrating with excitement as you turn and step towards him.

His cheeks flush and he squirms as he realises you’re stopping next to his desk. Again.

You try to reassure him, and say quietly, so almost no one else can hear, “Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll be gentle with you.”

You bend at the waist, puckering your lips and slowly bringing them to his soft, milky white skin. You plant a slow, strawberry-scented peck to the side of his face, leaving a shimmering red stain just next to where you know your favourite dimple resides.

He turns almost the colour of your lipgloss, and the cheers of his classmates serenade you as you smile to yourself and leave the class for another day.

Friday - kiss day!

You’re thrilled that you’ve managed to wrangle everything so that you get to do a ‘five dollar’ delivery with Eddie. Your planning couldn’t have gone better.

You’re more excited than you would ever admit, a heat collecting in your belly as you try to walk as calmly as you can to his classroom.

He’s the only recipient today, making this a really big deal in front of the entire class.

There’s a couple of whistles and yelps as you enter, some of his classmates clearly aware of what’s to come.

You decide to tease the rest of the class a little, walking around the desks for effect, as everyone’s wondering who it’s going to be.

Eventually, you stop in front of Eddie’s desk. His friends are yelping the loudest, but the whole class is emitting a low chorus of ‘oooooooh’s.

Eddie holds his hands up, palms out in front of him, and, giving you - and, you suspect, him - an out, he mumbles quietly,

“Whoa. You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

He starts stuttering something about the patriarchy and antiquated societal notions of romantic expectations and subservience, but you’re barely listening, your concentration fully focused on his lips, practically salivating at the thought of finally getting close to those delicious, plump, pink pillows.

You give him what you hope is a reassuring and soft smile as you clasp your hands behind your back and begin to lean forwards.

Eddie leans back as you move. It must look comical to the outside observers as you lean in, eyes closed and lip pursed, as he moves backwards at the same rate, eyes as wide as saucers and doing a great impersonation of a rabbit in headlights.

Eventually, his back against his chair and his chin pulled down as far as it will go, he has nowhere left to run.

You keep leaning forward, the fronts of your thighs connecting with his desk helping to stabilise you.

Feeling your nose gently bump his, you turn your head almost imperceptibly and continue forwards, allowing them to slide past each other.

Your lips finally connect.

A tiny amount at first, barely touching, you feel your lower lip press against his, and then your upper.

His mouth is warm, his lips velvety and soft, not chapped and rough like some others.

It feels so good.

You press forwards a little more, connecting more of your flesh with his.

The whoops, hollers and whistles from the classmates fade from your hearing. You do however hear a tiny whimper from the boy in front of you, and you don’t know it but he’s closed his eyes.

You stay like this for a moment, you enjoying the sensation you’ve been dreaming about for weeks, Eddie sitting stiffly in front of you.

But then, with a soft moan that only you can hear, you feel Eddie’s lips relax and purse, and suddenly he’s kissing you back, gently and subtly, your lips moving in harmony, hot breaths mingling and surrounding you in a warm cloud.

After what feels like a delicious eternity, you hear the teacher loudly clearing their throat behind you, and you realise your time is more than up.

Although it’s probably only been about five seconds, it feels like it was long enough for your whole world to tip on its axis and stop spinning.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss and slowly stand back up, rolling your lower lip inwards a little and feeling your cheeks, and other areas, heating.

Behind him, Eddie gets slapped on the back by Jeff and Dougie, and Gareth is clapping loudly and shouting affirmations.

The room has erupted into a clamouring, yelling mess of applause, but neither you nor Eddie are paying much attention.

His lips roll inwards too, and the very tip of his pink tongue peeps out as if to taste you.

He gifts you an incredulous half smile, that dimple you love so much almost making an appearance.

You back away, bashfully, spinning on your heel before you turn back, almost forgetting the final part of your job, and add,

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie.”

It’s the end of the week, and you’re in the parking lot after school. You’re standing with a gaggle of other volunteers, laughing, giggling, discussing how well the fundraising has gone, exchanging horror stories of some really bad kisses, and one person even trying to shove their tongue in.

Eddie waits until you’re on your own, heading to your car.

He steps beside you just as you reach your door.

“Hey, Candy.”

You turn, leaning back against your car, and you can’t help but smirk at the cheesy nickname.

“Hey, Eddie. Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?”

“Uh, yeah. I did, actually. Thanks to a certain someone. I mean, I know you can’t tell me who sent my gifts, kisser-client confidentiality and all that. But, I just wanted to say thanks.”

Your belly flips. He continues, waving a hand nonchalantly,

“You know, for all your hard work. With the fundraising, I mean.”

“Oh right, of course.”

For a moment you’re disheartened. You thought he might mean something else.

But then he steps closer, into your personal space, one of his large boots slotting between your pumps.

“I’d like to know if I could, uh, make another donation? How many kisses can I get for, say, twenty dollars?”

His warm, broad hands come up to ever so gently cup your cheeks, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones and his eyes flitting between your eyes and your mouth.

Your breathing stops as his face moves towards yours.

He pauses, and looks into your eyes one more time, as if waiting for your permission. When you hold his gaze and smile slightly, he moves his mouth until it’s over yours, slowly, gently connecting your lips again. It’s soft, sweet, delicious.

Unexpectedly, you feel the tip of his tongue gently skimming across your glossed lips, but you willingly part them to allow him access.

His tongue pushes past your lips and enters your mouth, slow, tentative, gentle. You hear him moan slightly again, and feel the vibrations against your lips.

Your tongue comes to meet his, your lips and tongues sliding comfortably and dancing together. It’s in the oh-so-romantic situation of the parking lot, but neither of you care.

You reach to grab at his belt loops, pulling his hips flush against yours, just as he breaks the kiss and looks at you, smiling. His lips are glossy and glittering with your lipgloss, and you both smell of strawberries.

You like it.

Breathily, you smile at him, as your arms come up to hook around the back of his neck, and say, just before he leans down for another kiss,

“For you, Eddie? There's no charge…”

Thank you so much for reading!

Please reblog if you enjoyed this.

A/N & disclaimer: I don't agree that peer or societal pressure should be used to coerce or force anyone into doing anything they don’t want to do. And absolutely no one should have their first (or indeed any) kiss forced upon them in public. But this idea burrowed into my brain and I had to run with it. This is fiction - I cannot stress that enough - and if anyone demands you do anything like this with them, in public or private, without your full and ongoing consent you can and absolutely should refuse.

Also, I have an ‘Everything Taglist’ now, so if you’d like to be on it to see more stuff by me let me know!

Taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician