#I don’t want to be your burden I just want to follow my heart

[cheynovak]

Sugar - Part 4

   

Soldier boy x F/ reader  (Y/N)     

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, age difference, little violence, swearing, drugs, alcohol ...    

Side note: English isn’t my first language.       

*Does not follow The Boys storyline * 

--    

Y/N is a college student who pays her apartment, bills and school tuition with the money she makes as ‘sugar baby’ for Soldier boy. What started as just being a companion on lonely moments became quickly more physical.     

But how will Y/N cope with the dominant side of Ben when he finds out she has a life beside pleasuring him?    

-- 

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall in a daze. The silence of the room was broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on her nightstand. It had been only a few hours since her boyfriend, Alex, had stormed out of the apartment, leaving a trail of shattered trust and broken dreams.  

And on top of that she had pushed Ben away right when he tried to be comforting. The weight of her actions pressed down on her like an invisible force, making it hard to breathe. 

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and saw her mother’s name. With a heavy sigh, she answered. 

"Hi, Mom," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

"Y/N," her mother’s voice was cold, a stark contrast to her usual warmth. "We need to talk." Her heart sank. She knew this conversation was inevitable, but she hadn’t expected it to come so soon. "Mom, I..." 

"Save it," her mother cut her off. "I just got off the phone with Alex his parents. They told me everything." Y/N’s throat tightened. She could picture the look of disappointment on her mother’s face, even though she couldn’t see it. "I’m sorry, Mom," she managed to say, her voice trembling. 

"Sorry?" her mother’s voice rose. "Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it, Y/N! How could you do something like this? To him? To us?" 

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the sting of tears. "I didn’t mean for it to happen. I was... I was desperate." 

"Desperate?" her mother repeated, incredulous. "Desperate enough to betray the person who loved you? For money?" Y/N’s voice breaking. "I was drowning in debt, and I didn’t know what else to do." 

Her mother’s silence was more damning than any words could have been. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, but no less stern. "There is always a choice, Y/N. Always. You could have come to us. We would have helped you. But instead, you chose to lie and cheat." 

"I know," Y/N whispered, the tears flowing freely now. "I know I messed up. I just... I didn’t want to burden you."- "You think this isn’t a burden?" her mother shot back. "You think watching your daughter self-destruct, being a prostitute, isn’t the heaviest burden of all?" 

Y/N had no response. She had never felt so small, so ashamed. Her mother’s words cut deeper than she had imagined they would. 

"I raised you to be better than this," her mother continued. "I thought you understood the importance of honesty, of integrity.”  

Her mother said sharply. "Who was he?" Y/N felt her stomach drop. She had hoped to avoid this part of the conversation. "Mom, does it really matter now?" 

"Of course, it matters!" her mother snapped. "I need to know who you thought was worth destroying your relationship for." Y/N closed her eyes, the weight of the truth pressing down on her. "He was... someone I met through work," she said carefully. “ A regular at the diner”  

Her mother sighed heavily. " What was his name?" Y/N bit her lip, her mind racing. She couldn't tell her mother the whole truth, not the Soldier Boy part. That would open up a whole new world of trouble.  

"His name is Ben," she said finally. "Ben... " her mother repeated, as if testing the name on her tongue. "Is he still in your life?" 

"No, yes,... I eh, I don’t know.” she answered almost in a whisper. "We eh, had a fight yesterday." Her mother was silent for a long moment, the weight of her disappointment palpable even through the phone.  

"Y/N, I wish you had come to us. Your father and I would have helped. We might not have much, but we wouldn't have let you drown." She thought about it for a second.  

"Mom," Y/N began hesitantly, "I’m sorry, but I want to complete my year at college, you can't afford that. I need to focus on my future." 

Her mother’s sigh was heavy with concern. "I understand, Y/N. But are you going to continue this, this relationship? No let me rephrase that.  Are you in love with this Ben?” 

Y/N hesitated. The truth was complicated, and her feelings were a tangled mess. "I... I thought I wasn’t. At least, at first. But now... I'm not sure. Things got so out of control. It started for the money but now... I don’t know." 

Her mother was again silent for a moment, absorbing this info. "Alex's parents said he was older. How much older is he, Y/N? Is he closer to your age or...?" 

Y/N took a deep breath, knowing this was another difficult part of the truth. "He's older...”  Her cheeks blush, "Your father's age?" her mother asked, her voice a mix of shock and concern.  

“Yeah, something like that.” Y/N said softly. "Y/N, do you realize how much more complicated this makes things?" 

"I know, I know..." 

"We want to meet him," her mother said suddenly. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. "What?! Why? I just told you we had a fight."  

"Because we need to understand what happened, Y/N. We need to know who this man is and why you got involved with him. If he's as much older as you say, we have even more concerns." 

Y/N swallowed hard. "Mom, I don't know if that's a good idea. It's over complicated between us and meeting him now might just make things worse." 

"Maybe, but if you chose to stay with him" her mother continues, " it's important to us. We want to know who influenced our daughter to make such drastic decisions. Besides if he is honest with you, he’ll meet us."  

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of her mother's request. "I'll talk to him," she said finally. "I'll see if he's willing to meet. But I can't promise anything." 

"That's all we ask," her mother said gently before saying goodbye.  

-- 

Y/N stood in front of Ben's loft, her heart pounding in her chest. She had spent the entire day at school trying to focus on her classes, but her mind kept drifting back to this moment. Finally, with her decision made, she raised her hand and knocked on the door. 

It opened almost immediately, revealing Ben in a silk flowery robe, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Y/N," he said, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness. "I wasn't expecting to see you." 

Y/N heard a giggle coming from inside. Without a word, Y/N pushed the door open wider and stepped inside.  

Her eyes quickly scanned the room, and she froze at the sight before her. Two girls, barely dressed, lounged casually on the couch, their expressions shifting from boredom to mild interest as they saw her.  

"Oooh another guest for our little party, Soldier Boy?" one of the girls said in a high pitch voice and flirtatious.

Y/N's eyes roamed over the mess in the room, cocaine and empty bottles of whiskey displayed on the table.  

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Ben asked again, a slight edge creeping into his voice as he closed the door behind her. 

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and hurt. "We need to talk," she said firmly, ignoring the girls who were now whispering to each other. 

Ben sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Alright, let's talk," he said, his tone resigned. He gestured to the girls to leave. The girls exchanged glances, then slowly got up and sauntered toward the door.  

Looking Y/N up and down, kissing Ben’s cheek before leaving. And even though he didn’t react, her stomach turned. “Call us later, soldier boy?” One of them purred in his ear.  

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice softening. Her fists clenched at her sides. She didn’t answer him. "Why Ben?" she demanded, her voice trembling with fury. "Why tramps like them?" 

Ben's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "Watch your tone, Doll," he said sharply. "You don't get to come in here and judge me." He said moving to the couch snoring another line.  

"Judge you?" Y/N's voice rose, filled with indignation. "How can you even say that after seeing this?” Ben stood up, his posture tense. "Don't act like you're innocent in all of this," he shot back. "You pushed me away, Y/N. You made it clear that I needed to leave.”  

"My life just chattered! I lost my boyfriend, my familyis furious with me!" Y/N shouted, the tears starting to well up in her eyes again. “And you... you just moved on to the next easy fuck toy."

"I have my needs!" Ben scoffed.

“And you didn’t lose everything Y/N, you had me, but I wasn’t good enough! You wanted to be alone, remember!" His voice filled with venom.

Y/N's anger flared even more. "So this is my fault now? You couldn't wait to find someone else, could you? Someone who doesn’t care about you, who doesn't know the real you. Much easier to deal with isn't it!" 

Ben's eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "Oh so now you’re pretending you did?” - “I did!" Y/N yelled, her voice cracking. "Even if it was destroying everything I cared about. But this... this is just pathetic, Ben." 

Her hands wave at the drugs on the table. "Pathetic?" Ben's voice was low and dangerous. "You think I'm pathetic? Look in the mirror, woman. You were the one who got involved with me for money. You were the one who lied and cheated." 

"You should have thought about your perfect life before you accepted the money!"

Y/N recoiled as if she had been slapped, the truth of his words stinging more than she wanted to admit. "I made mistakes, yes!" she said, her voice trembling. “ I know. But I came to apologise, I didn’t run to the next cheap whore when things get rough.” 

Y/N shook her head, the tears streaming down her face. "I don't know what you want," she said quietly. "But this... this isn't the way to fix anything." 

Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe not," he admitted. "Maybe I realized you were the wrong choice." 

Y/N felt a sharp pang in her chest at his words, but she held her ground. "Or maybe you only know one way to deal with your emotions," she retorted, her voice steady. "You find distractions and fuck them." 

Ben's eyes flashed with anger, but there was a flicker of acknowledgment there too. He knew she was right. He had always been stubborn, unwilling to face his emotions head-on.  

"You surely didn’t help!" he countered. “You fucking pushed me away when I opened up!” Ben's jaw clenched, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. "I made love to you," he shot back, his voice laced with intensity. "I stayed for dinner. I wanted to comfort you." 

“I NEVER do that, Y/N, never!”  

Y/N froze, her mind reeling at his words. Made love to her? The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. They had been intimate, yes, but had it been love? Had it been anything more than a distraction from his own pain? 

Her heart pounded in her chest as she searched his eyes for the truth. But all she saw was a mix of anger, hurt, and something else. "Made love to me?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "Or did you just use me to fill the void?" 

Ben's expression softened, a flicker of regret crossing his features. "What? No! I didn't." he said quietly.  

Their anger still simmered beneath the surface, like a storm waiting to break. Y/N took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. "Why didn't you call me for sex, like we agreed? Why someone else?" 

Ben's jaw tensed, his frustration evident as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't know if you were still up for it," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. 

Y/N felt a surge of indignation rise within her. "So you just assumed?" she retorted, her voice rising in anger. "You just went to someone else because you thought I might not be interested anymore?" 

"It's not like that," Ben protested, his tone defensive. "I didn't want to pressure you. I didn't want to make things more complicated than they already are." 

"Complicated?" Y/N scoffed, her anger boiling over. "You think sleeping with someone else made things less complicated? You think it didn't hurt me?" 

Ben looked away, unable to meet her gaze "I wasn't thinking straight. I was angry and hurt, and I lashed out." he admitted, his voice heavy with guilt. “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t... do it.”  

Ben reached out, seeing the tears glistening on Y/N's cheeks. He gently brushed them away with his thumb, his touch both tender and insistent. Closing in.  

Y/N tried to push him away, her hands pressing against his chest, but he was too strong. He pulled her closer, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of longing and regret. 

"Ben, stop," she protested weakly, but her words were cut off as he captured her lips with his in a forceful kiss. At first, she was upset, her body stiffening in resistance. She struggled against him, her emotions a turbulent mix of anger and hurt. 

But as the kiss deepened, something shifted inside her. The raw emotion in his kiss, the desperation and the unspoken apology, broke through her defences.  

Slowly, she began to soften, her resistance fading as she leaned into him, her hands still pressed against his chest. 

Ben's grip tightened, his kiss becoming more passionate, more insistent. He could feel her responding, her anger, replaced by a different kind of intensity.  

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their hearts pounding. Y/N's anger flared up again, the complexity of her emotions overwhelming her. She raised her hand and slapped Ben across the face, the sound echoing in the small room. 

Ben didn’t move, stunned he looked at her, his hand instinctively moving to his cheek even though it didn’t hurt at all.

“What the fuck Y/N!?” anger flashing in his eyes. "You said to call you when I wanted sex!" he shouted, his voice shaking with frustration. "Now I kiss you and you're angry! What do you want from me, woman?" 

Y/N yelled back, her voice trembling with rage. "You don't get to treat me like an second option. You don't get to come in and out of my life as you please." 

Ben's face contorted with anger. "You think this is all about me using you? I tried to be there for you, to comfort you, and you pushed me away!" - ”How is fucking other women comforting me, Ben!?" 

"I didn’t fuck anyone! And I didn't know if you still wanted me!" Ben shouted, his voice cracking. " What was I supposed to do?" - "You were supposed to talk to me!" Y/N screamed, her fists clenching at her sides. 

Ben's hands grabbed Y/N's shoulders, his grip firm as he tried to make her understand. "You can't keep pushing me away and then expect everything to be fine when it suits you." he said, his voice rough with emotion. 

Y/N shook his hands off, glaring at him. "And you can't expect me to just forget everything you've done or were willing to do." she shot back, her voice shaking. 

For a moment, they stood there, breathing heavily, their emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. Ben let his hands fall to his sides, his expression a mixture of anger and despair. He took a step back, giving her space, the tension between them palpable. 

"This is going nowhere." He whispered.

Then, out of the blue, Y/N surged forward. She grabbed his hair, his neck tightly, pulling him down into an angry heated kiss. Ben's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly responded, his arms wrapping around her as he kissed her back with equal intensity. 

Y/N pulled herself into the narrow space between the wall and Ben’s body, her movements urgent and filled with raw emotion. "I'm still angry," she mumbled between kisses, biting his lip hard enough to draw a groan from him. 

Ben's grip tightened, his own frustration and desire fuelling his actions. He pressed her against the wall, his hands gripping her hips as he lifted her slightly on to her toes, kneading her behind.

The intensity of their connection was almost overwhelming, each kiss a mix of passion and lingering anger. 

"I know," he groaned, his voice rough with emotion as he moved his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses. "Want to stop?" Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer a soft moan escaped her lips.

"Stop talking... just fuck me" she demanded, her voice breathless and filled with a mix of fury and need. 

Ben’s hands roamed over her body, his touch both soothing and igniting the fire between them. His hands moving in between her legs, rubbing over her clothed core.  

Y/N’s breaths came in quick gasps as Ben's lips found hers again. He moved back to her collar bone, bit her softly, the pain and pleasure mingling in a way that heightened her senses. "I hate that I still want you," she whispered, her voice trembling. 

Ben’s response was a deep, guttural sound as he pressed his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers. "I hate that I can't stop thinking about you, can't even fuck a whore without feeling guilty." he admitted, his voice raw and honest. 

As their passion intensified, Ben's eagerness got the best of him. He tugged at Y/N's pants too forcefully, the fabric giving way with an audible rip. Y/N gasped in surprise as the fabric tore, her eyes widening in shock. 

"Ben!" she exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and frustration in her voice as she looked down at the torn fabric. 

Ben froze, his eyes widening in realization as he looked at the torn pants in his hands. "I'm so sorry," he panted, his hands gripping her thighs as he held her steady against the wall. "But right now, all I can think about is you." 

He pressed her harder against the wall, looking at her while one of his hands guided his hard dick towards her hot and wet core. Y/N's arms instinctively wrapped around Ben's neck, pulling him closer the second she feels the delicious sting.  

Both his hands gripped her hips firmly as he started to thrust inside her, his movements confident and purposeful. 

Ben's touch became relentless, his movements rough and primal, igniting a fire within Y/N that burned hotter with each passing moment. She responded eagerly, her body arching against his, craving more of his intense passion. 

Y/N's breath hitched as Ben's words stirred something primal within her, awakening a raw need that consumed her completely. He leaned in close to Y/N's ear, his breath hot against her skin as he began to talk dirty. 

"You like it rough, don't you baby girl?" he whispered, his voice sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "You love it when I take control, when I make you mine. I can hear it in your moans Doll, you want to be used by me.”  

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her body responding eagerly to his commanding tone. She nodded, unable to form words as desire surged through her. "You're so damn sexy when fall apart like this" Ben continued, his voice low and seductive. "I love the way you moan for me, the way you beg for more." 

“Tell me what you need from me, baby, tell me." he demanded, slowing down. Her eyes opened “M-more, harder... please Ben... P-please.” Ben dropped her to the floor, turning her around and pressed her against the wall.  

"You're mine, Y/N," Ben growled, his voice filled with possessiveness, lips almost touching her ear. Y/N whimpered in response, her body trembling "Y-yes... No one else can make me feel like this. No one else can satisfy me like you can." 

Ben's desire burned hotter as he pressed her closer against the wall. With a primal need, he pulled her hips back, aligning their bodies perfectly. Hitting her but cheek with a firm smack. 

Y/N gasped, Ben's hands gripped her hips, his touch both commanding and possessive. She arched against him, offering herself to him completely, craving the intense pleasure only he could provide. 

With a growl of hunger, Ben slammed into her, the force of his thrusts sending waves of ecstasy coursing through Y/N's body. Each powerful movement pushed her closer to the edge, driving her to the brink of oblivion. 

As Y/N's orgasm washed over her in a tidal wave of pleasure, she dug her nails into the wall, her body convulsing with ecstasy. The intensity of her release was overwhelming, sending shockwaves of bliss coursing through her veins. 

But Ben showed no signs of slowing down. His desire burned hotter than ever as he continued to thrust into her relentlessly, driving her to new heights of pleasure. 

With each powerful thrust, Ben pushed her closer to the edge once again, prolonging her pleasure until she felt like she couldn't take anymore. But still, he kept going, driving her to the brink of insanity with his relentless passion. 

Then, finally, Y/N felt herself tipping over the edge once again. Another wave of pleasure washed over her, more intense than anything she had ever experienced before.  

Her vision blurred as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her, leaving her trembling and breathless in its wake. She cried out incoherently, lost in the overwhelming sensations that consumed her completely. 

As Y/N's body trembled with the force of her release, she felt Ben's release join hers, his climax echoing hers in a symphony of shared ecstasy. With a deep, guttural groan, Ben poured himself into her, his body shuddering with the intensity of his release. 

As the intensity of their passion subsided, Y/N's legs felt like jelly, unable to support her weight. Ben quickly realized her state and gently let go of her, causing her to wobble unsteadily. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, supporting her weight effortlessly. 

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, concern etched in his voice as he looked into her eyes. Y/N nodded weakly, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. "I think so," she murmured, leaning into his embrace for support. 

Ben scooped her up in his arms, carrying her effortlessly to the bedroom. He laid her down gently on the bed. "I'll be right back," he promised, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before disappearing into the bathroom. 

When Ben returned, he had a warm washcloth in hand, ready to clean her up. With gentle strokes, he wiped away the remnants of their passion, his touch soothing and tender. 

As Ben's touch moved tenderly over Y/N's skin, she couldn't help but wince as a sharp pain shot through her lower abdomen. She hissed in discomfort. “You’re not ok are you?”  He looked concerned.

“No no, I'm fine Ben.” But he could see the pain on her face. Ben's expression darkened with concern and anger as he noticed Y/N's reaction. "Tell me what's wrong?" he demanded, his voice sharp with worry. 

"Nothing I'm fine Ben." She tried to ease his mind.

He tucked the blankets around her with utmost care. Y/N winced again, her hand instinctively moving to her abdomen. Ben's anger flared as he realized the source of her discomfort. "I was too rough, wasn't I?" 

"You should have told me to slow down!" he said, his tone laced with frustration. “Hey, don’t... don’t yell at me, please. It felt good until now ok.” Her hand forced him to look up at her. 

Y/N pulled Ben back into bed with her. He settled in behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her protectively still feeling guilty. His large hand rested gently on her lower belly, applying just the right amount of warmth and pressure to soothe the lingering pain. 

She sighed, melting into his embrace. The comforting weight of his hand on her abdomen helped to ease the discomfort, and she felt a sense of calm wash over her. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude and affection. 

Ben pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment. "I'm sorry for hurting you," he said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. "I never want to cause you pain.” 

Y/N placed her hand over his, squeezing it reassuringly. "I know," she replied, her voice tender. "It was intense, but it was also... incredible.” as she almost started to drift off to sleep, she realised why she came here.  

She shifted in Ben's arms, turning to face him. She gazed into his eyes, her expression serious but filled with a sense of determination. "Ben," she began softly, her voice breaking the comfortable silence. "I need to ask you something." 

Ben's brow furrowed in concern, he moved his hand so he could still gently caress her lower belly. "What is it?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. 

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "My mom knows about my breakup," she started, her eyes searching his for a reaction. "She knows why it happened. " 

Ben's eyes widened in shock, confusion etching itself across his features. "And I might have, sort of said I liked you.” She confessed, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. "And... she wants to meet you." 

Ben's shock deepened, his eyes widening further, a terror glanced in his eyes. He looks down at her, seeing her hopeful eyes. Trying hard not to pull back and run off.

"S-she... she wants to meet me?" 

--

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[kissporsche]

I may physically be at work but spiritually I am playing every vegaspete scene on repeat in my head

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you and satoru, your fake boyfriend, have awards to accept and places to be. so how'd you two end up fucking in a bathroom? NSFW

contents: fem!reader. semi-public sex, p –> v, blowjob, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, you two get walked in on at the end (kinda). references hungry for more. not proofread, ignore any minor mistakes. 3.5K words.

“you two are so cute together,” the interviewer sighs, looking at you and satoru in turn. “please, tell us more about your relationship!”

satoru laughs, resting his hand on your back and pulling you into his side. you put on a smile and instinctually put a hand on his chest, pretending not to notice the way he stiffens up at the contact. “where do i even begin?” satoru asks dryly, turning and looking down at you affectionately, and he’s almost a good enough actor for you to believe there’s any real emotion behind those cold blue eyes.

two weeks ago, satoru’s media team came to you with a request for you two to start dating as a way of gaining more attention from your fans. naturally, you declined—it’s not like you’d gain anything from the deal but the burden of being paraded around on the arm of the man you hated—satoru gojo, the cocky son of some famous actor in the 90’s. but after multiple increases in the amount of money satoru’s team was willing to throw at you, you finally agreed under the condition that this arrangement would end the second you wanted it to.

“i’m sure you’ve seen our latest movie on netflix,” satoru starts, looking back up at the interviewer, whose eyes have practically turned into hearts. “the one with the serial killer, yeah? well, it started from there and just grew into more.”

“i guess you could say the attraction on the screen wasn’t all acting,” you add with a knowing smile. good thing you were a decent enough actor to pretend as if you weren’t just lying through your teeth, otherwise the millions of dollars in your bank account would all be gone. 

the interviewer laughs and turns to the camera, saying something about how the chemistry between you and satoru was what really made the movie a hit—in fact, it might even be the reason you’re both getting nominated for best actor and actress.

“well, if you’d excuse us, i think we should get back to the party,” satoru jumps in, nodding his head at the interviewer in thanks. he removes his hand from your back as you follow him to the main area, weaving through crowds of fans and interviewers on his way there. you walk at his side, heels clacking against the freshly polished floor. satoru dips his head and whispers, “hold my hand.”

you scrunch up your nose and shake your head. “no thanks, it’s not like anyone’s watching right now. it’s way too crowded.”

“just do it,” satoru mutters, grabbing your hand anyways. when you start to pull away, he fixes you with a stern look and adds, “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t.”

“ugh, fine.”

two hours pass, filled with other actors’ remarks on how good you and satoru make as a couple. suguru geto, one of satoru’s close friends who had played a cult leader in a recent documentary even said that you might be the girl who could fix satoru. yeah, right.

“so, when do awards start?” you ask satoru, swirling your drink and relishing the sound of the ice clacking against the side of the glass. he shrugs and takes a swig from his own cup, which looks suspiciously like apple cider disguised as champagne. “really? you’re nominated for like, four awards, and you don’t even know when you’re getting them?”

satoru laughs carelessly and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the short cut of your dress. “at this point, i’ve got so many awards that it doesn’t even matter anymore. and by the way, you look really good in that dress. oh, wait, didn’t i buy it for you?”

“you’re not smooth.”

“then why am i nominated for best actor, huh?”

“because the system’s absolute shit, obviously. otherwise toji would win every time.”

satoru groans and drinks the last couple sips of his drink, rolling his eyes. “don’t even mention that piece of shit.” you shrug in response, hiding your smile behind your glass. a couple years back, satoru had lost a role to toji and to his despair, the movie did really well, despite what he’d promised to the producers who had turned him down. and it looks like he’s still bitter over that, and all of a sudden, the perfect plan to piss satoru off appears in your head.

“look, it’s toji right there!” you gasp, setting down your drink and hopping off your seat, walking over to toji while ignoring satoru’s warnings. “oh, hi, i’m a big fan,” you say to the tall, well-built man, smiling bashfully. toji turns and looks down at you, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“hey, pretty, you’re the girl in that movie with the serial killer, yeah?” he asks, crossing his arms. you nod and internally marvel at how tall he is—especially compared to satoru, who, by any standards, is pretty damn tall. toji looks you up and down, taking his sweet time drinking in the way your dress hugs your figure. “that scene in the alley was really fuckin’ good,” toji adds conversationally. “you’re definitely winnin’ best actress for that.”

anyone who’s watched the movie knows that the scene he’s referring to is the one where you get fucked by satoru against a dark alley wall—and you’ve seen enough edits of the scene to know exactly why it’s getting all the hype.

“aw, thanks,” you say coyly, resting a hand on your hip and tilting your head. “y’know, i’ve always wanted to star in a movie with you,” you continue, hearing satoru come up behind you in the background. you ignore the sickeningly obvious way he clears his throat and flutter your eyelashes at toji, who’s eying you with interest.

“i’d like that. i can probably pull some strings,” toji replies with a smirk. his dark eyes flicker from you to satoru and his smile turns almost patronizing. “and who’s this?”

“her boyfriend. and i really hate to interrupt this friendly chat, but she’s not up for grabs,” satoru snaps, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you back to your spot at the bar. you shoot satoru an indignant glare, but receive no reply besides his tightening jaw. toji laughs and waves you off, mouthing “call me” at you when you turn back apologetically. 

satoru drags you by the hand to one of the bathrooms, shoving open the door with the side of his arm and pulling you inside. there’s a long, shiny counter, which you become very familiar with once your fake boyfriend hoists you up and sits you on it. “the fuck was that?” satoru hisses, narrowing his eyes accusingly.

“what, we were just talki—”

“i don’t like the way he was looking at you,” satoru interrupts, crossing his arms tensely. he fixes you with a cold stare and you fidget uncomfortably with the hem of your dress, which you now realize is rather short. 

“okay, and?” you reply irritably, starting to get annoyed by the way satoru keeps patronizing you. “it’s not like we’re even dating, gojo,” you snap, emphasizing the use of his last name.

“yeah? well, i don’t need my ‘girlfriend’ slutting herself out to the guy everyone knows i hate,” satoru fires back, taking a step forward. his palms rest on the counter on either side of your exposed legs, and you suddenly notice how red satoru’s face is. the flush in his cheeks wasn’t as noticeable underneath the bar’s dim lights, but here, it’s rather obvious.

“are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, unable to suppress the cheeky smile that finds itself on your face. satoru’s jaw slackens and his eyes widen, and that’s enough of a sign for you to confirm it—satoru gojo, your fake boyfriend, is jealous. he doesn’t reply immediately, so you laugh, throwing back your head and giggling at the way satoru’s petty rivalry seems to be only one of the reasons he was so eager to get you away from toji. “aw, that’s so cute, but we aren’t even dating, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching out and caressing the side of satoru’s face.

he instantly swats your hand away, rolling his eyes at your laughter. “well, we still have to act like it, you idiot,” he mutters, leaning over you and eying the low neckline of your dress. you instinctively cross your arms and glare at him, and satoru only cocks an eyebrow in return. “so, if we were actually dating, do y’know what i’d be doing right now?”

“what?” you decide to humor him.

satoru’s demeanor completely changes at your question, going from pissed and flushed red to almost playful.

“this.” 

and just like that, satoru slips his slender fingers underneath the bottom of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your black, lacy panties. 

“gojo, what the—”

“shh, it’s all for the show,” he whispers teasingly, brushing one finger against the warm skin of your thigh. you involuntarily shiver from his touch, and against all rational impulse, find yourself wanting more.

in the acting community, satoru was well-known for being a stuck-up brat, and when you two had first announced your relationship, plenty of actors doubted it. after all, how could you, the classy it-girl of the movie industry, date an asshole like satoru? but even you were surprised at how easily people started to believe it when you two interacted in front of them. you’ve been told that you two had a rather unexpected burst of chemistry together, and that your relationship might actually make it.

what a shame.

satoru hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, raising an eyebrow when you don’t protest. he maintains eye contact with you as he slides your panties down your thighs, exposing your embarrassingly-wet cunt. satoru looks almost as surprised as you do at how soaked you are, even as he runs two fingers over your slit before sliding them in. you hate how good it feels—it’s been a while since you got a chance to sleep with another man, especially since you’ve been stuck with satoru for the past two weeks. 

“shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” satoru murmurs, scoffing in mild disbelief as he meets your eyes and smiles. he curls his fingers upwards, causing your thighs to reflexively close before satoru reopens them. “so, wanna explain, sweetheart?” he tsks, tapping your thigh with his other hand.

you make a face and look away, cheeks heating up the longer satoru waits for a response. “it’s probably from toji,” you snap back after a moment. satoru laughs sarcastically, shaking his head almost condescendingly and pulling out his fingers.

“nice try, hon,” he says sweetly, lifting his fingers to his mouth and licking off your slick in one smooth motion. satoru exhales heavily and swallows, taking his time in doing so. “want me to go grab toji to join us?” satoru asks, forcing a smile on his lips. “i’m sure he’d love to watch you beg—”

“shut it, gojo,” you interrupt, swatting away his hand, which somehow found its way back in between your thighs. “we have an award show to get to, there’s not enough time for this bullshi—”

that was a mistake. satoru instantly lifts you off the counter and, ignoring the rather wide range of curse words you throw at him, sets you on the ground and starts unzipping his pants. “shh, we got all the time in the world. they can’t give an award to someone who isn’t there, right?” satoru cooes, threading one of his hands through your hair and pulling you closer to him. his other hand finishes unzipping his pants, freeing his already-hard dick.

you look up at satoru, forcing yourself to act unimpressed—even though you know damn well he can see through your half-hearted attempt at hiding your real feelings. “s’ that all?” you ask, hating yourself for the crack in your voice when satoru laughs at you. 

“ah, i think it’ll be more than enough for your pretty face to handle. now c’mon, open nice n’ wide for me,” satoru instructs you, reaching down and tilting up your chin as he guides his dick into your mouth. against all rational impulse, you let him, all while glaring daggers at him from below. 

you run your tongue over his flushed red tip, and satoru sucks in a harsh breath, chest tensing as you continue kitten-licking him. his hand moves from your chin to the top of your head, and he pushes your mouth farther onto his dick, jaw tightening the more your tongue laps at him. 

sure, maybe you shouldn’t be sucking off your fake boyfriend in a bathroom where anyone could walk in at any time, but it’s the first time you’ve felt this way in too long, and you weren’t ready to let this feeling go just yet. so you humor satoru and moan, smiling when you feel the way his whole body loosen up at the soft vibration. “f-fuck, didn’t think you’d actually know how to give a man a good time,” satoru mutters through gritted teeth. 

“really?” you ask, pulling away from his dick for a moment to catch a breath. “we fucked for that movie, though, and you seemed pretty damn satisfied then, didn’t you?” you say in-between heaving breaths. satoru scoffs and shakes his head, pushing your mouth back onto his dick.

“yeah, but that was for a movie. this isn’t,” he clarifies, eyes fixed on the mix of spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you continue sucking him off. “fuck, why are you good at this?” he hisses, almost incredulously—it’s as if he was hoping you wouldn’t be this good for him for some reason, but now’s not the time to reason through it or wonder what’s going on in his mind.

satoru shudders around you, and you feel the hair threaded through your hair tighten. it’s not enough to be painful, but his grip still makes you whine from the increased pressure. his breathing becomes more shallow as you run your tongue over his length, and his foot starts to bounce on the floor as he gets closer to cumming down your throat. “shit, baby, m’ close,” satoru confirms a moment later, tilting his chin back and glaring at the ceiling. 

“fuckin’ hell, i—” he cuts himself off with a loud, lengthy groan, pushing your head even farther on his dick and tensing as the full force of satoru’s orgasm hits him. he lets loose a flurry of curse words as he cums in your mouth, filling you up to the point where it starts dripping down the side of your face. it’s hot and salty, two sensations that you normally wouldn’t put together, but in this moment it’s all you can think about as you slide one hand downwards towards your throbbing pussy.

still reeling from his surprisingly quick orgasm, satoru leans back onto the counter and pants for air. as for you, you’re starting to want some of his pleasure for yourself—so you slip two fingers inside your cunt and pulse them back and forth, needy moans slipping out of your lips at every thrust. “gojo,” you call, looking up at him and licking his cum off your lips. the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cum dripping down your lips and fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt is enough for satoru to cum again, but he forces himself to maintain some level of control.

“jus’ call me satoru,” he murmurs, reaching down and tugging you up to your feet. it’s hard to stand while your legs are trembling, but thankfully, satoru does most of the work for you by positioning you against the wall, back facing him as he aligns his still-hard dick in front of your dripping pussy. “say it,” satoru mutters in your ear, resting one hand on your waist and the other on the wall just above your shoulder. “say my name f’me, sweetheart.”

“s-satoru,” you breathe, and a moment later, your fake boyfriend—who doesn’t feel so fake anymore—shoves himself inside of your welcoming cunt. you’re already wet enough to the point where he doesn’t really need to prep you at all, but you’re still just tight enough so that every thrust feels like he’s breaking you down in the best way possible. 

“y’feel so good,” satoru groans, resting his chin on your shoulder and snapping his hips back and forth, setting a steady yet harsh pace. you stutter out satoru’s name again and again as your vision goes blurry, with your only thoughts revolving around the dick shoved up inside you and the man praising you in your ear. 

satoru curses when he feels your walls clench around him, breaths growing shallower with every thrust. “arch your back for me, princess,” he mutters, eyes fluttering rapidly as he squeezes your waist. “yeah, jus’ like that,” satoru praises, breath brushing against the side of your face as he continues thrusting into you. “how’re you feeling, pretty? s’ this all right with you?”

you nod shakily in response, swollen lips hanging wide open as you gasp for air. satoru clicks his tongue and slows his pace, dipping his chin and studying your face. “gonna need you to use your words, angel.”

“m' good, i wanna cum,” you mumble, a loud moan slipping through your lips when satoru laughs and resumes fucking you a millisecond after you answer. 

“i’m gonna fill you up, baby, i promise,” satoru whispers, and his words are barely audible over the lewd, sticky sounds coming from everywhere. all your senses are directed at satoru—the man you really shouldn’t be fucking right now, but all your inhibitions fade away as you feel your stomach start to tighten as you approach your orgasm.

“fuck, satoru, m’ close,” you whimper, arching your back even more and clenching your teeth shut. satoru sucks in a sharp breath as he confirms that he’s also about to cum, and his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets. “don’t stop, please, i—”

from there on, your words mix themselves together, with the only understandable word being satoru’s name. your fake boyfriend spills into you first, cum leaking from his tip and mixing with yours as you both chase your releases. and it hits you hard—if it wasn’t for satoru, you would’ve crumbled to the ground from the sheer force of your orgasm. all you can see is white as satoru finishes emptying his load inside of you, and the sticky, viscous liquid trails down the warm skin of your thighs as it overflows from your abused hole.

“shit,” satoru mutters, stumbling backwards and eyeing his now-soiled clothes. “this was a couple thousand dollars, damn it.”

you exhale a breathy laugh and turn around, leaning against the wall and meeting his half-lidded eyes. “you kidding? my dress was way more than that, and there’s no way i can wear that out now.”

satoru grins, running a hand through his ruffled hair and walking back towards you, touching your waist and sliding a finger over your dripping cunt. “you were so good f’me, baby. what were we arguing about again?”

“i have no idea,” you mumble, watching satoru lick his finger clean. he’s shameless—even as clarity returns to both of your minds, he still insists on dragging the moment on. not that you mind—that was the best sex you’d had in a while, even if it was too fast and in a bathroom.

“we should get back to the ceremony,” you say distractedly, pulling down your dress and frowning at the new wrinkles. “can i wear your suitjacket? i don’t want people to see this.”

satoru sticks out his bottom lip and pouts, looking you up and down. “but i like it. you look like you just got fucked by a really hot guy. oh, wait, that’s me!”

“you’re an asshole.”

before satoru can reply, the bathroom door opens, and you both jump out of your skins. thankfully, satoru had time to pull his pants on, otherwise it would’ve been significantly more embarrassing. suguru pokes his head in the bathroom and rolls his eyes when he sees you and satoru, and an exasperated sigh slips out of his lips when he sees your fucked-out states. 

“are you two seriously fucking during the awards?” suguru snaps, amber eyes glittering with dry amusement. you look away bashfully, tugging down your dress even farther out of embarrassment. satoru shrugs nonchalantly and walks over to suguru, offering his hand in search of a fistbump. 

suguru eyes him dubiously and crosses his arms. “did you wash your hands?”

“heh, no, not yet.”

ignoring satoru’s smug grin, suguru swats his arm away with the back of his hand, disgust evident all over his face. “gross, fuck off.” he turns to you and arches an eyebrow, looking you up and down disapprovingly. “you two should clean up before coming outside, otherwise they’ll probably take away your awards,” suguru adds, wrinkling his nose. “i’ll tell them you’re on your way.” 

“okay, thanks,” you mutter, face warmer than ever. suguru nods in response and leaves, and when you and satoru finally return to the awards ceremony, there’s plenty of whispers about you two, and most of them aren’t very family-friendly.

well, at the very least, nobody’s gonna doubt that you two were a couple now!

[websterss]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐆 — 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: Can I do a request for Cole Walter where he and the reader are about to sleep together for the first but she figures that he just will hook up with her and go back to Erin. But he actually has feelings for her and he found out it is her first time ever so he makes sure to tell her that he actually has feelings for her. (Some mature content if you’re cool with that)😏

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Angst, fluff, only indication of smut at the end, no actual smut.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,804

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Cole Walter x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! I don't how to feel about this lmfao. Listen I suck at smut so I'm sorry there isn't any my love. Also, I don't do taglists anymore guys!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

If there was one thing you couldn’t let go of it was trying and not being able to have a conversation with Cole. You found it difficult since he had been avoiding you like the plague. He’d brush past your shoulder in the halls, and if you locked eyes in public he was already walking the other way. Your friendship has been one for the history books. A long-lasting friendship since elementary, but you wondered when and if your bond was soon to expire. You wanted to keep trying though because trying meant you wouldn’t have to lose Cole for good. 

You had had your doubts the second Katherine had invited you to attend Haley and Will’s wedding. Your doubts clouded your mind as you felt your presence and attendance would cause a great deal of stress or frustration for Cole. Seeing as how he didn’t want to talk to you, you did your best to stay far away, sit far, but even then you watched as he left in the middle of the dancing. Heading towards the barn. You had wished you had gone after him sooner, but you waited, waited till everyone was asleep. Anxiety was all you felt as you faced his workshop shed. The light was on indicating that he was in there but if it hadn’t been for the banging and clanging of tools against metal you would have assumed otherwise. It was only one foot after the other. You thought to yourself. Some part of you told you to run and turn, but he was alone and in his element, this would have to be your only time to get your chance. You had to be brave, and strong, but you were not at the moment so you went head first, heart second. You had opened the door and made your way inside. You complicated whether to make your presence known but it ended up being one hesitant knock followed by two certain ones. You had barely made your way into the area before his voice made you halt in your tracks. 

“Didn’t expect you to be hanging around still. It’s late, shouldn't you be on your way home by now?” 

“H-How’d you know it was me?” You gape at him like a fish out of water, not having expected him to speak first. 

“You’re the only person I know that knocks after walking into a room.” He continued to twist a bolt. “Plus you do things in threes.”

You gaped at him. “No, I don’t.” 

You watched as he turned his eyes towards you, a shit-eating grin on his eyes as he leaned to his left. His hand curls into a fist as he reenacts your entrance. Tapping against the metal for effect.

One… two three. 

“Three times.” He smirked, raising his left brow. You wanted to slap him then and there. 

“Didn’t peg you as the type to pay attention to things like that?” 

“Like what? Like how you scrunch your nose and close your eyes when the sun is in your face, and continue to have a conversation like that. Or how you like to listen instead of speaking when you’re in a group. It's just how observant you are. Or how you do things like knock three times after entering a room.” He chuckles, pointing and mocking where you entered. “Or how you don’t ask or expect anything from anyone because you feel like you’re being a burden. Which you’re not. Or how you go out of your way to help others so much, even though some people don’t deserve to be blessed by your kindness. Or how you prefer bikes to cars cause it means you're helping out the planet a little bit more. Or how you prefer Custard instead of Murphy now because when we were younger Alex said you’d be fine riding him…but then you fell off and you got hurt, and it took a long time to get you to trust us again, and get you back on a saddle. Or… how you’ve been nothing but sweet to me when all I’ve done is treat you like shit.” He slams the hood of his truck down causing you to flinch. Regret fills him instantly. “Or…how you hate loud noises because it reminds you of all the yelling that happens at home.” If your heart could stop you’d have collapsed dead on the floor before him. But it hadn’t, it only skipped and increased in speed because you never thought he'd be so attentive to you. 

“Still don’t peg me as the type to pay attention to things now?” He opened his arms out and gave a tight-lipped grin. 

“What happened to us?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He brushes past you like he’s done so time after time again. He walked over to his work table looking for a torque wrench knowing the one he needed was over by the truck in his toolbox. He just couldn’t face you right now. 

“Cole…will you look at me, please? I’ve been trying to talk to you for months now and-“

“Have you seen my torque wrench anywhere I can’t find it?” He cut you off. 

“Cole, I’m serious, if you’d just give me a second-“

“Can we not do this tonight? I need to work on the truck okay? It needed more work after it broke down on me and Jackie the other day and I’d appreciate it if you-“

“Can you just look at me for once, dammit!” You walk over and bang your fist on the hood and flinch. You see his side profile first before his body follows, he raises a brow at you unimpressed. 

“On my truck.” He gestures to where your fist rests. 

“I have been trying and trying for so long now to get your attention. To talk to you.” You run your hands down your face. “Because I miss you…” You gesture an open hand to him. “I miss my best friend. I miss wanting to know how your day is going or if your knee has been hurting, but I can’t do those things because you don’t give me the time of day.” 

“I’ve been busy…” He shrugs. 

“Busy right? Yeah, I know what you've been up to.” You close your eyes. “Look Cole, I don’t know if I’ve done anything to make you want to avoid me but if I have then I’m sorry.” You let your head hang forward. “I don’t know what to do anymore…” You hear him before you feel his hands touch your skin gently. In a soft gentle caress, you can’t help but lean into his palm. “I’m sorry…” 

“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. I’ve been a jerk okay…I've been a shit friend and an even shit brother, but I’m working on it. I am. Things will be different. Okay, if my speech was anything to go off of, I meant every second of it. Meeting your person…When I met you, nothing, nothing else mattered to me. I should’ve realized it sooner too but when do I pay attention to you.” He joked slightly, causing you to roll your eyes. “I should've held you closer because as my mother likes to remind me constantly. You’re good for me, to me, and way out of my league…” Cole laughed lightly. “I guess what I’m trying to get at is I’m sorry…for everything. I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven for the way I’ve treated you.” 

“You don’t.” Cole retreats his hands from your face. Accepting that as your final word. He’d have walked off with a nod if you hadn’t given him the sweet smile he loves seeing on you. “It’s a good thing I forgave you two days ago then..” 

“Wait what?” 

“Thanks for fixing my bike by the way.” 

He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did you know about that?” 

“I had to take Luna to the vet since she got out the night before, she came back with a limp, but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, your mom and I chatted and she assumed we were on good terms again and asked if you had given me my bike back yet. It didn't take long to put two and two together. That and I’ve been missing my bike for a week now.”

“Can’t trust her now.” He joked. 

“When did you even take it?” You shook your head.

“When did you start asking people for rides again?” He raised a brow at you but laughed as you went to playfully smack him for he was the reason for your lack of transportation. “I was driving the boys home from school when I saw you one day kneeling beside your bike. I wasn’t spying by the way, I just happened to see you in all your damsel ness…” He dragged out the s. 

“Right…” You squint your eyes at him in amusement. 

“I figured it could’ve been the chain since you complained about it falling out one time, so it was either that or the tires finally gave out because let’s face it, sweetheart, that thing was ancient.” He started walking backwards with a smirk. “It was supposed to be a surprise but I guess now is as good of a time as any.” He grabbed a hold of the sheet that covered it and yanked it off.

Your heart did stop then and there. You gasped quietly as a cherry red bike was presented before you. Cole rolled it over in front of you before pulling down the support lever. Though it had been the basket with a pink bow on it that caught your attention. It was beautiful.

“You fixed it.” You reached a hand out to touch it but left it hanging mid-air. Too scared to ruin it. Break it. “And…painted it?” You raised a confused brow at him.

“No. I got you a new one.” He grinned sheepishly as you looked up at him in shock. “The basket was a personal touch I added to it though. I thought you could use something to carry your backpack and books, and the flowers you deliver on Wednesdays. You’ve always carried your bag on your back so I thought this could help take that heavy weight off your shoulders.” 

“Cole…T-This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you…” His heart swelled as you flashed him a smile. You looked back to the bike…thinking he must’ve spent his paycheck on it. You couldn’t believe he’d done such a thing for you. 

“You’re welcome bug.” He nodded. “You deserve something nice. Plus your old bike was on its last limb. That and I thought it’d be good for me to get some exercise in. Work the leg out some more ya know. Believe it or not, I don’t remember the last time I ever rode a bike.” He chuckled. 

"Bug...You haven't called me that in a long time."

"It's my name for you..."

"Yeah, I know it is..." You mutter softly. You thought about the name for a second before your brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait if you got me a new one…What did you do with the old bike?”

“Ah thought you’d never ask. I fixed it.” He jogged back over to the corner. Rolling over the old rusted red one out. He swung a leg over the seat. “Thought you can use the company on Wednesdays.” 

“Keep me company huh?” 

“Yeah, I think it’s time I find a new hobby.” 

“Sulking bored you out.” 

“Among other things…” He shrugs. “I want things to be different.” He cleared his throat and held your gaze. 

“I’m happy for you Cole.” You nodded. 

“Anyway…Let’s test this bad boy.” He pedaled out a few feet then you both watched and heard as the clank of the chain fell out. It lay on the floor. You looked up in time to meet his gaze. You had to cover your mouth to keep you from laughing. 

“Thought you said you fixed it.”

“Yeah…The chain won’t stay. So expect a lot of stopping when we go out on them.” He gave a sheepish grin. 

“You took the old one.” You stated. Turning back to your new one with a new sense of warmth and longing. 

“You were due for a new one. No way I could keep letting you ride this thing. I mean, look at it!” He judged the rusted two-wheeler. 

“Hey don’t make fun. She held out for as long as she could.” 

His eyes flickered onto you, lingering on your eyes a little longer before he let his eyes roam to your heels, up to where your dress ended, then his eyes raked back up to your pouty lips. The accidental double entendre wasn’t lost on him. You had held out for him as long as you could too and he’d been nothing but an ass. 

“Yeah, she sure did…” He nodded slightly. You hold his gaze for a bit longer then look away. 

“For what it's worth. I appreciate you doing this for me.” You grew closer to him, a timid stance as you fiddled with your already chipping nail paint. “I don’t think I can show you just how thankful I am, but all I got is this.” You exhaled, then leaned over to press a kiss against the side of his cheek. Cole closed his eyes wanting the touch of your lips to linger on him a bit longer. You pulled away the slightest, your eyes flickering down to his lips before you averted your gaze. Cole’s chest rose and fell at the sudden change in the atmosphere. He often wondered what your lips pressed against his felt like. Thoughts and questions he probably shouldn’t have had like what did you taste like? What noises he could get out of you. He was hungry for your touch, and he wasn’t about to ruin the opportunity to do the one thing he longed for. 

You watched as he stood up from the bike, letting it lean on the support bar. You took a step back as he closed the distance between you two. His hand reached up to find its place again against your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” Your breath hitched at his words. “Let me know if you’d like me to stop.”

“Okay…” You had closed your eyes shut as you waited for him to lean in. It was the barely-there brush of his lips that had you gasping for air. It was the effect he had on you. When he was sure you wouldn’t pull away from him, he slid his hand underneath your jaw holding you there as he walked you both to his work table. The wood had met you back as he knelt to pick you up. Your hands slid over and into his locks. Tugging him closer to you as he stood in between your thighs. 

“Say the word…” He pulled away from your lips kissing down your jaw, onto your neck. “And I’ll stop.” He breathed out as he took note of each sigh of contentment you let out. 

“D-Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You lifted his chin to have him look at you once more. You curled a hand into his hair and crashed your lips onto his.

“I won’t stop then.” He pecked your lips, pulling back in a teasing manner. You grabbed both sides of his face to press your mouths together, having enough of his playfulness. You just wanted him then and there. You knew you were in for a long evening hearing him unzip his slacks. His belt buckle following next.

“P-Promise this isn’t just a one-time thing. That this won’t be like Erin or any of the other girls you’ve been with. That you won’t leave after this. This is my first time after all.”

“Is that what’s worrying you?” He leaned in and pecked your lips sweetly. 

“Would you be upset if it was?”

“No. Thank you for being open and honest about your concerns to me. But I promise you this time it's different, with you it’s different. I feel something when I’m with you, and I don’t want to find out what my life will be like if you aren’t in it any time soon, but as long as you’re game. I’m in this for the long run.”

“I thought Cole Walter didn’t do relationships…” Cole knew you were only kidding by the teasing in your tone.

“Yeah well that Cole didn’t know what love felt like until he met you.”

“You love me?” You grin feeling that warmth spread over your heart once more. 

“I love you.” He nodded certainly.

[astraystayyh]

chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?

A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.

It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.

So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.

You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.

So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.

But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.

It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.

“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.

“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.

“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.

The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”

You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”

His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.

He remembered.

“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”

You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.

“Okay.”

“To the biting?”

“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.

He finally finds you.

“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.

With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.

His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.

After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.

His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.

“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.

“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”

“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.

“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.

“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.

“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.

“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

[vlrspace]

as you pull up to the driveway in front of gojo’s house, you’re surprised to see his car already parked there. it makes you hastily check your phone, if you only imagined finishing up in time at jujutsu tech or maybe there was something planned for tonight, but there’s nothing marked in your calendar.

you can’t say you aren’t happy that gojo is home earlier than usual, the two of you barely got to spend time together lately and you can feel everything in you longing for the white haired man. yet, you can’t shake off the uneasiness when you step into the house, the only source of light is the setting sun through the window, but other than that it’s nearly dark inside. before you could call out to him, the sense of his cursed energy hits you and as you follow your instinct, you come to find your boyfriend laying on the couch, his blindfold pulled up to his forehead, his hand covering his eyes.

unfortunately, one short glance is enough to realise what’s going on, the wet streaks of tears flowing down his cheeks are shining from the sunset through the large windows and the faint sounds of sniffles yanks at your heart in your chest.

you know he’s aware that you’re standing next to him, even if he doesn’t move to look at you. slowly, you take a seat on the floor, pulling your legs up to your chin and wrapp your arms around your knees. gojo doesn’t like to be touched in his vulnerable moments, unless you know he’s ready and in the right set of mind for physical contact. the man is simply afraid of hurting you when he’s not in control of himself.

“hey ‘toru” your voice is gentle and quiet, filling up the soundless living room. gojo doesn’t budge and you don’t expect him to, you’ll just wait till his ready to talk, to hug or anything really.

sometimes he straight up ignores you, standing up from the couch without a look at you and disappears into the bathroom. you can’t deny that it always tears your heart a little, but gojo always makes it up to you when he reappears and wraps his strong arms around your frame. he apologises to you many times, never once leaving your side till the next sunrise as the two of you talk everything out and share sweets from the pantry.

fortunately, it’s not one of those times today. gojo moves his arm away from his face, beautiful blue eyes fixated on the white ceiling as he lays his hand beside him. there’s no haste in your movements when you cross your legs shortly after that, rising up a tender hand near his with your pinkie sticking out.

“can i?” your tone doesn’t change from how you talked to him previously and you can see gojo weakly nod, before you hook your pinkies together and leave it on the plush surface of the couch. “i can tell you about my day, if you’d like?” you carefully eye him from below, feeling his body growing more at ease by the second.

“please” gojo’s voice comes out a little breathless and high pitched, but you only smile as you recall today’s events with your students.

gojo always found your voice calming and when he feels like the world is nothing but a burden, you always find ways to break him out of it. that alone means more to him than anything, the fact that you never rush him to speak or begin coddling him right away. the simple respect you show towards him is enough and gojo finds himself falling for you even harder.

as you end your quiet monologue, you’re pleased to see his interlaced fingers with yours, head fully turned towards your. shiny blue eyes trace your every feature as your thumb begins to rub against the back of his hand, wearing the softest expression gojo ever seen.

“i love you” three little words that speed his heartbeat up every time, no matter how many times he heard them from you.

instead of responding, gojo turns on his side and scoots back before gently tugging on your hand. you instantly understand what he wants and stand up from the floor to lay down beside him. your hands reach up to pull out his blindfold to let his hair down, throw it on the floor and begin stroking his tear stained cheeks, feeling gojo instantly leaning into your touch. his arms come to wrap around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest and leans his forehead against yours.

“you’re my whole world, i love you more than you can ever imagine” he mumbles against your lips with a soft peck at the end and the two of you stay in each other’s embrace, enjoying the warmth your bodies provide.

@/vlrspace, 2024

[lale-txt]

✱ confessing to you w/ Gojo, Nanami, Higuruma & gn!reader

@snailor-bee asked: LALEEEEE!!! (o゜▽゜)o♥ WHAT'S THIS I HEAR?? REQUESTS ARE OPEN?? FOR MORE FANDOMS?? You just know I just gotta... May I please request Gojo, Higuruma, and Nanami trying to confess to reader? (*/ω＼*) Like headcanons/drabbles whichever. I just think it's real cute. And you're real cute. It just works out perfectly, hehe. Hoping you're doing well!! ;3; Sending you hugs and kisses!!

a/n: BEE my sweet (´⌣`ʃƪ) it feels like forever since i for around writing something for you, so i was super excited when you sent something in for me! i had a lot of fun writing these small drabbles, i hope they're to your liking! ps: i think YOU are super cute love you ok bye

➸ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐: Geto, Toji & Shiu

❦ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Gojo is used to being fawned on. He has the good looks and he knows. Keeps running his mouth without any consequences because there simply are none when you’re Gojo Satoru. The strongest. The balance of the world depends on him. He’s untouchable.

And then there’s you, who is tearing his whole act down with such ease, it makes his heart stop.

You don’t fuss over him and you don’t bow before him. His name doesn’t fall out of your mouth as if he was a deity, someone holy; and still it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard. When you call out for him, Gojo wants to be there in an instant. There’s this unknown calmth whenever he’s with you, his heart feeling lightweight somehow. He’s drawn to you like the tide to the moon.

For someone as grand as Gojo, he loves so quietly. 

He can’t bring himself to say those words out loud, as if they carried a weight that threatened what you two have. Still, he doesn’t know what to do with all this love; he never learned where to put it down. You can handle it, can you? The burden and the curse of being loved? You wouldn’t be scared to love him back, right?

So Gojo makes sure to show you his love in the most mundane things, so there’s no room for doubt just how tight he holds you in his heart. Midnight strolls to the candy aisle at the supermarket. I love you. A hand on the small of your back when you’re moving through a large crowd. I love you. Your fingertips brushing over his long white lashes while he rests his weary head in your lap under the cherry blossoms. I love you. 

It’s only when you kiss him one night, in the middle of the parking lot, that those big words get caught in his throat. Six eyes aren’t enough to comprehend the feeling in his chest when his big hands cup your face, as if he wants to hinder you from ever pulling away from him. It would be so easy to mumble his confession against your lips, but you already know. So instead he simply kisses you back, sweeping you off your feet when you lose your balance from being on your tiptoes. 

He smiles when you shush him with another kiss. He doesn’t need to say it out loud; you know, you’ve always known.

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Nanami’s confession is apologetic.

The words have been weighing on his heart until one night, they just fall out of his mouth. Maybe he had one drink too many, not enough to be drunk, but enough to loosen his tongue. His thumb rubbing over the rim of his glass, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, his tie not so accurate anymore. He isn’t looking at you; it’s easier if his gaze doesn’t catch yours, if his eyes can’t wander to your lips. Your hands are next to each other on the bar counter, almost touching. He could close the distance so easily, but he’s aware that he wouldn’t be able to let go of your hand anymore.

“I’m in love with you.”

His voice is low, whisky-raspy. The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable; it’s a warmth that’s surrounding you like a veil. At this moment, it’s just you and him. In another life, this could have been so easy, couldn’t it? In a life where he doesn't have to worry about fighting curses, and the horrors humans are capable of, and about the day he might not come back home to you from work. He wouldn’t have to break your heart like that.

“So deeply, utterly in love with you.”

In another life, you could have had it all. The shared books on the nightstand, the matching rings on your fingers, the messy blankets in the morning. Maybe he was being greedy, yearning for this. He couldn’t help himself when you tugged on his heartstrings like that. He tried to fight it, this attraction to you; but the more he tried to keep his distance, the more he yearned for a glimpse of your attention. Your bright smile from the other side of the room–it should have been enough. And still…

“I hope you can forgive me.”

Was it really greed that made him cradle your face in his palms, gazing into your eyes before leaning in for a kiss? No… no. But he knows he can never let go of you now, not when he tasted the sweetness of your lips. Not when you kiss him back with such hunger, years of yearning unraveling in this very moment. Not when forgiveness lies on the tip of your tongue, asking to be devoured. All he can do is hope that when his time comes, you’ll let him pick up the pieces of your broken heart and that the light of your love will guide him somewhere south; back to the warmth the two of you feel in this very moment with his lips on yours. 

❦ 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀

Higuruma has no doubt in his heart regarding his feelings for you. They’re clear as day to him. His heart leaps in his chest when you enter a room and your laughter washes away all of his exhaustion for a bit. 

He studied you from afar for a long time; he can read all of your small gestures and expressions like a language only you and him know. The way your tongue pokes out between your lips when you’re in deep focus, reading over a file from a case you’re working on with him. Your fingertips picking up a tiny piece of lint from his suit before you enter the courtroom together and the small smile playing on your lips when he looks over his shoulder to catch what you’re doing. That one strand of hair that seems to be loose no matter how often you try to tuck it away, much to your annoyance and his adoration. 

“I’d like to ask you out.”

His words are as clear as his intentions. Higuruma is a straightforward man, not brash but gentle in his own way. With him, you don’t have to wonder what's between you two, he’ll tell you what’s on his mind and he’ll expect the same from you. Never pushy, but longing for connection, for mutual understanding. He sees no point in hiding his feelings and he knows you’re clever, you’ve probably had them figured out anyway. 

Higuruma and you have to face them daily, the abysses of the human mind. It’s easy to let your heart go cold over them, to lose a bit of your own humanity. And yet, when your eyes meet, it’s all forgotten. It’s like he can see the essence of your soul and you can see his and it’s all golden; so golden.

You don’t pull away when his fingers weave between yours one night when you leave the office together. He feels a sense of relief wash over him in this moment, not because he was afraid that you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but because his world got a bit brighter in this moment, a bit warmer. He missed this for much longer than he’d admit.

To Higuruma, loving you comes easy. It feels as natural as breathing. It calms him, as if you’re the eye of a storm. And so he doesn’t even hesitate to say those words out loud, almost stating them like a matter of fact, and sealing them with a kiss. Guilty of loving you.

[navybrat817]

For the dialogue prompts, how about our Bucky with 17. "I can't lose you, baby. I've already lost too much." ? Please and thanks wonderful Miss Navy!!!

Some Days

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets scared some days that he'll lose you.

Word Count: Over 500

Warnings: Mild sexual content, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: An overprotective prompt ficlet that could turn into more. Nat, I hope you like it ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky took you right to bed when he came home safely from his recent mission. Some days he needed to forget the weight of the unfair burdens he carried. As many times as he was unwillingly wiped, he would forever remember the horrors. The nightmares served as a reminder. He didn’t want to let them consume him.

He would drown in sorrow if he did.

“One more, baby,” he ordered gruffly, thrusting deep and helping you ride out your orgasm. “Give me one more.”

Some days forgetting meant taking you until he had his fill. He still had your hand above your head, your fingers laced together as he stretched his body over yours. He pulled another orgasm from you before he filled you to the brim. Pinned beneath him, you remembered that you belonged to him. And he’d never forget that he had someone worth fighting for.

Someone worth protecting.

“Talk to me,” you urged, focusing on him through the fog of pleasure.

“I get scared some days,” he whispered, still buried inside you.

“You? Scared?” You asked, touching his cheek. Like always, he leaned into your hand. Where one of you went, the other followed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It's true. Because some days I wake up and I worry when you're not there beside me,” he said, his voice as gentle as his kisses. “I can't breathe properly until I see your face or hear your voice.”

The wonderful ache between your thighs was a contrast to the one in your heart at his stormy gaze. Ghosts haunted the man you loved, but you would find ways to chase them away. “I don’t want you to worry. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.”

“My job is dangerous and I’m not always here,” he reminded you. There was always the chance that he’d never come home to you. But wasn’t life in general unpredictable? “I have enemies.”

“I know. And I know how to protect myself. You taught me, remember?” You pointed out. He made sure you knew how to fight. “And I'm still not going anywhere, Bucky.”

You gasped when he shifted his hips, his weight settling over you. “I can't lose you, baby,” he said, his eyes so intense that you nearly shrank under his gaze. But you weren’t afraid of how much he loved you because you loved him just as strongly. “I've already lost too much.”

Bucky Barnes lost almost everything. Time. Family. Autonomy. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve it.

He deserved love and you’d be there to give it to him.

“You won’t lose me,” you whispered.

He sighed, your words like a balm to an invisible wound. “Still love me?”

“Always,” you promised, pulling him down for a tender kiss.

Bucky was home and you would wake up beside him in the morning, but life was unpredictable. Someone would try to take you away soon. Someone with a grudge against the man who captured your heart.

And that someone would soon discover that messing with Bucky’s girl was a death wish.

Who do we think is dumb enough to go after Bucky's girl? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.6

06 : SELFISH DESIRES

SUM : it's your chance to make amends and push aside your selfish desires - your heart will ache but they're worth it 

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; angst ; idiots in love ; unexpected turn of events ; sirius is the main character here ; jk jk ; it's you~ hehe~ ; you'll see what i mean ; wolfstar have a heated argument ; i almost cried writing it ; i hate seeing them like that ; poor james ; james needs a hug ; regulus makes an appearance! ; dramatic sirius black ; regulus is a good brother ; sirius being an instigator ; we love him for it though ; you can't just leave them again! ; no fluff here kiddos ; but kiddos stay away! ; just cover your innocent eyes! 

LENGTH : 3.7k

← PREV. : 05 | DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

“You’re disgusting,” Sirius manages an indifferent glance over at his younger brother before resuming his miserable, unmoving position on the sofa — Regulus’ sofa. The obvious detachment Sirius has to the situation only stirs his younger brother’s bubbling anger, “It’s almost been a full month! And you’re letting yourself rot away on my sofa; get a hold of yourself!” No response. Regulus shakes his head with a drawn out sigh, “you usually don’t stay around this long whenever there’s an argument… I wonder what’s happened this time…”

Deeming his older brother completely hopeless, Regulus returns to his sparse but sleek kitchen just as the kettle whistles its readiness to be poured for tea.   

Sirius breaths an audible sigh and grimaces at the stench of his breath. The mix of excessive alcohol, countless cigarettes and mountains of junk food didn’t make for a good concoction on his tongue, definitely not for fresh breath. When was the last time he had brushed his teeth? He brings a hand up to push straggling strands of hair away from his view but grumbles when the curls had knotted up too much for him to comb his hair back uninterrupted. Stone grey eyes look down at his figure, stagnant and pale, weighed heavy from low spirits. 

What followed the night you left their flat was the worst fight they have ever had. It was mainly between him and Remus while James remained in the background, too downhearted to contribute anything to the verbal warfare happening before him. He was spoiled with love since birth. As an only child with loving parents, who never fought in front of him, whenever Sirius and Remus argued, James was left paralysed with despair. It was always shocking to him how nasty those fights became; his parents never fought like that. Sirius could see it in his sweet hazel eyes that James wanted desperately to have peace but didn’t know how to steer things in that direction. He had tried before, many times, to defuse the situation but both Sirius and Remus were too stubborn and hot-headed from the argument as well as their suddenly stark differences in opinion to back down. 

As unfortunate as it is to think about, these fights happened often, recurring in the same exact way – originating from opposing opinions, primarily between him and Remus. They would try to keep it together but it would just keep piling up until someone snaps and then there’s no dispelling their disputes. James either takes a side or none at all (usually the later) and Sirius storms out of the flat to stay with Regulus. 

He should feel guilty for being such a burden to his younger brother. He should have more pride in himself than to allow Regulus to ever see him in such a depressed and unpleasant state. Lack of hygiene, self care and self maintenance manifests into something so repulsive and unsightly, Sirius would usually be back and making amends within a week or two – encouraged by his own lack of cleanliness and his commitment to run from the disease of laziness. 

But it’s been more than that now. Nearly a month, Regulus says. Time just passes by, slow and tolerant, so unlike him, and yet, Sirius still managed to lose complete track of it. This is the longest they’ve ever had a dispute without reconciling.  

His own stubbornness is definitely a factor. He had been right all along. If only they, mostly Remus, had listened to him. James was fully on board but Remus was stubbornly defiant and managed to convince the former otherwise. 

“Do you think she’s the type of person who would embrace such an unconventional relationship with open arms?!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Moony,” Sirius grits his teeth, his inner thoughts and reasoning ached to be heard and let out coherently. In his mind, it all made sense to do things the way he suggests, so why couldn’t his boyfriend understand him?! It doesn’t even seem like he’s trying to listen to him at this point! “She won’t understand if we don’t say anything to her! We have to be forward and bold! Do it now before something happens!”

“Nothing. Is. Going. To. Happen!”

“How can you be so sure? We need to be honest with her, it’s not fair to her and it’s, frankly, deceitful to keep her in the dark about all this!”

“We can’t be too sure that she’ll accept us. If that happens then we’ll never see her again– I don’t want that, do you?!” 

“We won’t know unless we say something, do something, anything!”

“Please just trust me, Siri,” Remus begs, his loud voice lowering to a soft plea, his beautiful brown eyes no longer fierce or piercing but kind and warm again, with a hint of fear. Sirius can sympathise with that creeping terror, an anxiety that wants to swallow you whole and keep you in a dark abyss for eternity, “I don’t want to frighten her…”

The first time, Sirius gave in, weak for his love and weak for the reasoning behind his proposal on the matter concerning you. The dark-haired tattooist couldn’t fault his lover for that but, in hindsight, he should have argued his side more, maybe then, you wouldn’t have disappeared like that…

“Hey, your phone won’t stop pinging,” Regulus alerts, appearing out of thin air and surprising Sirius enough to sit up and alert with wide eyes, “will you finally read their messages to you?” with some reluctance, Sirius reaches for his phone and proceeds to look through his messages while Regulus takes a seat opposite him, a steaming cup of tea in hand.

The younger Black brother was just about to begin reading another one of his classic novel favourites when a rush of air flew by him, ruffling the small strands of hair and whipping about the billowing steam from his mug of tea. Moments later, the sound of his shower turning on full blast echos through his flat and a smile graces his lips. 

“It’s about time…”

Lingering guilt had plagued you all night long and you barely managed to get a wink of sleep. It, however, meant that you were able to better prepare lunch for the boys the following day. While cooking, you abandon all negative feelings to focus on only the good, not wanting any harmful emotions to diffuse into the food and saturate it with bad tastes. Your eyebags weren’t a pretty sight but it was easily fixable with a touch of makeup. 

You tried to look your best for the day. Fortunately, the early summer sun inspired your motivations further. Yes, you’ve made the terrible mistake of selfishly pushing them away to nurse your own battered soul and unrequited feelings, but this was your time to make amends, to make things right… to see Sirius again. 

You never felt right after you accused him of cheating on Remus and James with each other, only to find out that he was far more loving and loyal than that. You were embarrassed and ashamed to have ever thought so negatively about him, jumping to conclusions like an immature, thoughtless child. It was wonderful seeing James and Remus again, your heart was practically soaring in your chest as it disregarded all lingering feelings of misery and dejection. But now, your chest felt incredibly tight as your heart ached to catch a simple glimpse of Sirius.  

You carefully pack away the lovingly prepared food and desserts into your largest, most durable shopping bag before getting dressed. It was only natural that you managed to make more than you usually made for the boys, seeing as you wanted to spoil them rotten after being so childish the last few weeks. Since the weather was pleasant, you opted for a cute mini dress with a light, flowy material that was comfortable and soft. Over top, you wore a cropped cardigan that had long sleeves, enough to reach past your fingertips. For jewellery, you wore a simple necklace and slipped into a strappy pair of mid-heeled platforms that weren’t too tall. Casual but cute. 

Approaching the studio doors, your grip on the strap of your bag tightens and your breath hitches. They hadn’t taken the notice down and the bold, red letters of their ‘CLOSED’ sign glared at you angrily. 

Were they inside? Should you knock? Neither Remus or James actually agreed to your sudden choice to meet for lunch the night before. Did this mean that they didn’t want you to be in their lives anymore?... But… but you wanted to make things right! You wanted to apologise! You want to be friends with them again! You’ll tell them right away – tell them how you would do anything just to remain by their side, even if it’s just as a friend, you’ll be happy for them! You won’t be selfish anymore, you won’t covet anything more than friendship with them, that’s all you want! Not that they’ve ever heard of your true desires—

“Well?” A familiar voice speaks up behind you, putting an abrupt end to your panicked inner monologue, “Aren’t you going to knock?” 

Swiftly spinning in place, you smile brightly at the biker and tattooist standing before you, dressed in all black, with heavy, lace-up boots and his signature leather jacket, “Sirius!” 

He doesn’t breathe a word to you, eyeing your hefty bag before briefly meeting your eyes and making his way over. His long strides made it so that he reached you in no time but he didn’t stop. With a light gasp, he had backed you up into the left of their studio’s double-door front entrance. You held your breath and kept your eyes shut tight, not knowing what to do as your heart pounded deafeningly against your eardrums. 

A moment passes and you feel his hand brush against yours before your portly bag of packed food is taken from you. A wave of relief washed over your aching shoulder as the weight disappeared but such a diminutive alleviation of discomfort couldn’t swamp the trepidation in your heart. Sirius was different. 

“Siri–”

“Let’s head inside,” he had opened the right hand door and easily slipped through with your bag. Alone and in the quiet, you felt like crying. You wanted to cry, desperately but you knew that it would offer little to no reassurance. So, with a heavy heart, you followed Sirius inside and closed the studio door behind you. 

The air was stale but, in it, lingered a familiar scent that you had come to love, it was a clean, almost clinical smell from the regular use of disinfectant and bleach. You love this parlour so much, it was filled with so many good memories, ones of soft affection through tender words and gentle caresses. Despite the earlier interaction, you couldn’t help but smile just from the wave of romantic sentiment washing over you. 

“You’re here,” Remus greets with a tired smile as James sits on the opposite end of the sofa with a shy grin directed towards you, his hazel eyes looking elsewhere.

“Sorry if I’m late,” you managed a weak smile, “I didn’t know if the door was open or not. Thankfully, Sirius was there to help me in,” Sirius didn’t sit down despite the many available seating spaces and chose to lean his back against a far wall, instead. James couldn’t meet your eyes and Remus was sneakily massaging his temple as he leaned his face against his large hand, “let’s eat, shall we? I hope you guys are hungry,”  

It was never this awkward. Or quiet. Especially when sharing your homemade lunch together. James would usually be giving you endless praise through large, mid-chewed mouthfuls while Sirius laughed at the ridiculous sounds and faces he’d pull trying to speak coherently through the mouthful of food, and Remus would shake his head, his amusement by the display evident in the warm glimmer of his eyes. However, James doesn’t have as big of an appetite today and Sirius stands alone with his tupperware, barely touching his food. Remus is the only one eating a substantial amount besides you. Although, you’ve gradually slowed your own chewing. 

What have you done?... 

What happened to all of you?

Your shame brought your gaze down, making your head weigh heavier than usual as you give up on communicating anything with the boys. This wasn’t how it was meant to go…what should you do now? The pain in your heart was unbearable. 

Shoulders slumped and confidence dried up, you struggled to think of what to do. You should have prepared a speech or something. It was naive of you to think that simply coming over with a homemade lunch would fix anything. Things are never going to be the same, no matter how much you hope and pray for them to be. 

You’re hopeless… completely and utterly hopeless…

This was your worst fear come to life. You had feared rejection but seeing them unloving towards each other, barely communicating and broken apart, your stomach collapsed in on itself as your heart fell to a million pieces. You didn’t utter a single word of loving them romantically aloud and yet, you still managed to get in between their relationship. This was a sentiment of how selfish of a person you are. 

How could you do this to them?! They were your friends, who saved you from the worst night of your life, and you repay them like this?! Shameful. Disgusting. You don’t think you could ever look at yourself in the mirror again.  

The skirt of your mini dress blurs on your lap and you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing out loud. The tears, however, you couldn’t stop them. Hopefully, they’re all too distracted to see you silently weeping and you can gather yourself before turning tail and running out of there. 

Today is a complete disaster—

“Don’t cry, angel, please!” James jumps up and rushes to your side, kneeling down at your feet as he takes your hands in his and tries to meet your gaze through the puddle of tears in your eyes. His words immediately catch Remus and Sirius’ attention and they both begin to make their way over, evident worry swimming in their eyes but you refuse to acknowledge any of that as your mind drowns in all manner of negative thought.  

You shake your head, hearing the flurry of footfalls around you and wishing them away silently, “I shouldn’t have come here today…” you whisper. 

“What was that?” James patiently asks, voice soft and sweet and kind, it makes you want to fall into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you speak clearer and stand abruptly, “enjoy the lunch,” the haste and sorrow in your shaking voice makes their heart drop and they’re brought back to that fateful night once more. You don’t meet their eyes as you turn and push past them to leave, almost running through the hallway of their studio just to reach the door and make a quick escape. 

“THIS!” Sirius’ roaring voice suddenly cuts through the studio like a knife, making you stop in your tracks and turn around slowly. The door to the lounge room was still open, before it Sirius and Remus stood in an aggressive confrontation, both taking on a defensive stance as they faced each other, all while James remained in the background, clutching at his head as he slumped forward on the sofa, “THIS IS WHAT I MEANT! IF YOU HAD JUST LISTENED TO ME–” 

“I DIDN’T SAY WHAT I SAID WITHOUT REASON SIRIUS! YOU KNOW MY EXACT THOUGHTS ABOUT ALL THIS!” Remus shouts back, the veins in his neck bulging out from his fierce anger, the blood rushing in his cheeks making him look just about ready to violently explode. 

“BUT–”

“—YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR THAT!” Remus continues, not allowing Sirius to speak.   

“WELL YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR MY REASONING EITHER!”

You’re horrified at the scene. Sirius and Remus look ready to tear each other apart as James looks on hopelessly, not knowing what to do or how to diffuse the situation, completely torn between supporting one or the other. Without thinking, you rush back and skid to a stop between the two hot-blooded men. Their fuming rage was like a turbulent inferno whose flames licked viciously at your skin, ready to burn you and spread the hostility. 

“The both of you need to calm down!” you shout, pushing them away from each other and creating a safe distance between. Your tears had already run dry, replaced by the trembling terror shaking your limbs. 

“Don’t worry about us Dove,” Remus manages to voice through gritted teeth, his glowering eyes never leaving Sirius’, “you can leave and we’ll sort this out,”

“Sort this out like usual huh?—”

“—Don’t taunt me, Sirius,”

“That won’t solve anything, you idiot!” Sirius flings his arms up and James just barely manages to pull you away from being accidentally hit. Neither of the two seem to notice and James expresses his apology in lovingly nuzzling your temple, his lips puckering to kiss your skin but refraining and stepping away abruptly. You try not to feel the heartache his actions elicit in you.

“SHUT UP!” you’ve never heard Remus sound so angry and venomous before, it makes your heart stutter in fear and worry. You can’t leave now; this disagreement can’t end well without some form of intervention and James isn’t fairing too well with that – he needs someone there for him too, just to feel, somewhat, grounded through all of this, “She doesn’t have to hear all of this!”

“We wouldn’t have to be saying ‘all of this’ if you had. Just. LISTENED. TO. ME!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?!” Sirius growls lowly, his countenance scrunching up into a foul expression —an antithesis to his elegant features, “I’ll show you!” it was then that Sirius turns to face you and approaches with purpose in his long strides, unstopping like he did earlier when outside the studio. 

“SIRIUS—!”

Sirius backs you up into the wall behind you, “—Everything Could Have Been As Easy As Doing This!” you didn’t know what to prepare yourself for but Sirius firmly gripping your chin and pulling you into a deep kiss was not one of them. In your shock, you let out a surprised but muffled moan, slowly falling into the blissful embrace and reciprocating eagerly. 

Did you faint earlier? Was this all a dream?... 

…Dream or not, you like this very much!  

James and Remus watch at the bold display, disbelief shining clear in their eyes as Sirius has his way with you. But you don’t see them, you don’t see anyone or anything, all you know is that Sirius kisses like an experienced lover from fantasy and he wasn’t shy about loving you up. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you let Sirius guide them over your head to cuff your wrists together with his large hand, his other snaking around your waist to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. 

He tastes like spearmint gum and smokey cigarette smoke, his lips tinted in cherry lip balm for sweetness. What an addictive taste. You can’t get enough. 

But air is a necessity and just as you were beginning to run out of breath, Sirius pulls away, panting heavily. He doesn’t wait for a single second to pass before diving his head into your neck, where he peppers feathery but fervid kisses along your sensitive skin and smiles to himself when you slip out a moan. You sound beautiful. He needs to hear more. Sirius doesn’t stop, he sucks and licks and kisses and nuzzles along your neck like the tease he is, drawing out every quivering whimper and pretty moan you were desperately trying to contain. 

You keep your eyes tightly shut, too embarrassed to meet the eyes of Remus or James. Their gaze on you left behind a searing, phantom mark that developed into a displeasing itch. An itch that could only be satisfied if they kissed you too.

…So selfish. God! When will you stop?!

Ashamed of your gradually increasing volume, you seal your mouth shut in a stubborn attempt to suppress your pleasure. How did his lips and tongue feel so good on your skin? His touch made your knees weak and your legs shake, without his support, you don’t think you would stay standing for long. 

Just as you were able to swallow every embarrassing sound that tried to escape, James was beside you, his warm breath on your cheek as he silently urged Sirius to give way, “you need help staying quiet, angel?” he whispers and doesn’t wait for an answer, briefly meeting your eyes before he’s closing them to kiss you sweetly. It started off sweet. Sweet and loving like James before suddenly becoming very dominating and overwhelming. You were being devoured and the thought was undeniably arousing. They were both on you, Sirius kissing away at your neck as James savoured the taste of your lips before bullying his way into your awaiting mouth. He swallowed your moans for you as Sirius defiantly persisted, urging you with seductive lips to make more.  

Overwhelmed but so content. 

You were drowning in bliss and you never wanted to break away from it. 

“DIDN’T I SAY!” Remus shouts, stopping all activity and leaving you strung up high as the boys slowly pull away, not too far but enough for all of you to meet Remus’ unreadable stare. The boys look over their shoulder to observe their commanding lover, their large frames tense before moving their eyes down and slowly smirking, the tension evaporating off their figures as you’re left to rebuild another tower of anxiety from your lower stomach, “Didn’t. I. Say. We. Were. Going. To. Savour. Her?”

What?

Your shocked, wide-eyed stare meets Remus’ cool and, almost, unfeeling gaze. Once again, your knees buckled under you and you were caught by Sirius and James. Held in place by their hot, firm hands and the press of their toned physiques. 

What did he just say?

Unable to keep his stare, your eyes slowly fall down the tall brunette’s figure. Capturing his beautiful, full lips; taking in the delicious column on his neck; observing the wide expanse of his shoulders and chest; drifting down to gulp at his veiny arms and hands before landing on... 

Oh~

A/N : no fluff, but something better right? a little sneak peak on how i write spicy things but it's readable hehe~  

NEXT. | 07 : APOLOGISE AND COMFORT →

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST

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[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐈𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k (help???)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, Wife!Reader, burnout, overstimulation (not sexually), arguing, angst followed by fluff, kiss and make up, virginal fingering, kisses galore, EVENTUAL SMUT, pregnancy sex, bit of body worship (he loves your pregnant body) cowgirl position, sensory deprivation sex.

𝐀/𝐍: I poured my heart into this one, not that I don’t always do but this one in particular just hits closer to home. And yes it’s a vent fic so very very self indulgent.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re tired. He’s tired. There’s only so much stress you can withstand before you reach your tipping point. Luckily your husband is here to keep you grounded

It started off with a throbbing in your head and as irritating as it was, it wasn’t bad enough to disrupt your daily routine. But as the week rolled on, the throbbing sensation began to get worse.

You were becoming easily irritated and it didn’t help with the workload you had to tackle. Even Miguel noticed a change in your mood but whenever he would bring it up and ask you about it, you would deflect his questions and tell him you were fine.

You couldn’t bear the thought of burdening him when your struggles especially when he had his own responsibilities and duties to fulfill.

You knew that if you admitted the stress you were feeling, he would insist that you rest, which was the last thing you needed, especially with how much you needed to get done this week.

You tried your best to ignore the nerves that were stretching to their limits now, but it was proven more difficult with each passing day. You would feel a sense of dread as soon as you got out of bed, mentally bracing yourself for the overwhelming day you had to face.

Your mind was preoccupied now as you reached over the high shelf for the spice jar. Your stomach was jutted out with the new life brewing inside of you, making it harder for you to manoeuvre around.

Just as your fingers brushed against the jar you were after, a sudden voice tore through the room, snapping you out of your trance.

“¿Qué dije sobre pedirme ayuda?” Miguel called out before he went over and stood behind you to take the spice jar you were reaching for. “What if something fell on you?”

“I don’t need help,” you insisted, reaching over to reclaim the jar back from him.

Miguel arched his brow in mild amusement. “You’re struggling to reach the spices, and you’re saying you don’t need help?”

“I’m fine, I’m trying to make dinner,”

“I know I know. But I’m here now so you don’t need to do that tonight,” You knew he was trying to emphasise the fact that he willingly took the time out of his day just to be with you.

Normally, you would be beyond appreciative towards his gesture. With his duties back at Spider Society HQ breathing down his neck all the time, it was a rarity that you both had an evening together like this.

He would either be saving the city or in another dimension, and although you would still be able to contact him through your watch, it would never be the same as having his physical warmth with you.

But right now, you were driven by your stress and too wrapped up in getting the job done to be in the right state of mind and properly enjoy the night.

“Why not? I can still cook you know,” you resorted, pouring some of the spice in the pot before stirring the content.

“And yet, I don’t want you to.” He said firmly before he turned you around to face him and rested his hands on your growing belly, silently conveying his concern for your wellbeing. “Now go sit,”

As the food continued to bubble on the stove, you retreated from his touch defensively. His face twisted in confusion as you questioned, “Why the hell are you doing that?”

His face fell further at your change in tone, “Doing what? Touching you?”

“No, treating me like I’m a basket case,”

“I’m treating you like the mother of my child. You’re pregnant and over exerting yourself,” he tried to reason with you. You attempted to conceal how much your senses were firing right now.

You couldn’t tell if it was the aroma of the cooking that was making you slightly nauseous but you were starting to feel agitated.

“I’m pregnant, not paralysed Miguel. I’m fully capable of doing this myself,” you could see the frown forming on his face and he definitely picked up the hostility of your tone.

“I never said you weren’t capable but I don't want you doing too much,” he argued back, his voice growing more insistent, mirroring your frustration. He wasn’t going to let your stubbornness sway him, even if it did irk you.

You could feel the heat of your vexation rising in your guts. You hated being interrupted in the kitchen especially when you were making dinner. Even if you were tired, you were still going to stand your ground and continue until you were done.

Throughout the last few days there had been a build up of tension that you have been bottling up and you refused to talk about it with him, even if he did ask you about it.

You had no safe outlet for your emotions and now you can feel it taking a toll on your daily tasks. It was almost palpable and you couldn’t control the sudden outbursts you were throwing at your husband right now.

A small part of you knew that he didn’t deserve this harsh treatment you were giving him. But that meek feeling of self awareness was quickly overshadowed by your clouded mind that was skewing your thoughts, unbeknownst to you.

Out of bitterness, you twisted the knob to switch off the stove before you turned to look at him. His annoyed expression didn’t falter, rather you could see his brows furrowed more. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Turn off the stove?”

“You wanted me to stop, didn’t you?” Now it was your turn to be confused, though you could still feel the lingering coldness.

He was so adamant on you not cooking so why is he still not satisfied when you turn the stove off? What was his problem?

“What are you trying to prove here?” He asked.

The question hit a nerve, the fact that he was insinuating that you had an ulterior motive just by a simple action. It was almost insulting. Was he trying to sound condescending just to throw you off?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,”

Ouch.

“Oh please, enlighten me,” There was an obvious edge to your tone and he glowered at that. You could tell he was really starting to get annoyed when you saw his fangs started to emerge from his canines, something that was only stimulated in the height of rage or arousal.

“Cut the sarcasm. You’re purposely getting on my nerves and it’s working. Now, are you going to answer my question?” His voice demanded clarity from you and you weren’t sure if anything you said would satisfy him.

“Like I said, I’m doing as I’m told. Why are you getting mad?” You snapped back. You didn’t want to admit that what he said made the shadow of sympathy you felt early crawl back again.

He wasn’t aware of the emotions you were keeping inside of you and probably thought you were purposely reacting this way just to pull his leg.

“You know damn well that’s not how I meant with my words,” he was practically growling now and you could see the crimson in his eyes flicker like a flame.

With a weary sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose— a habit that you both seemed to share. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this argument now, it was clear that it wasn’t going anywhere.

The throbbing in your head was back, but now it felt like a pounding sensation reverberating in your skull. Without another word, you turned to leave the kitchen leaving the half-cooked food behind on the stove.

“Where are you going?” You heard him call out from the kitchen before he took a few steps in your direction.

“To the room, I lost my appetite,” You headed your way up to the bedroom. You didn’t hear his footsteps following after you as you closed the door behind you.

You climbed into bed with the blanket over you and made yourself as small as your pregnant belly will allow you. There was a sense of bleakness that was shrouding you now— the underlying stress you’ve been feeling was still there but it wasn’t as overbearing.

With the silence in the room, you’d think you’d be able to calm yourself down a little from the heated interaction you just had, but instead your mind was still racing. You couldn’t stop yourself from straining your muscles no matter how hard you tried.

You tightened your grip on the blanket and buried yourself deeper into the sheets, trying to block out as much of the lighting from the room as you could. You didn’t notice Miguel entering the room until you felt an additional weight on the bed beside you.

For a long moment, all you could hear was his steady breathing and the occasional bed creaking before he spoke out of nowhere. “Well, at least the silent treatment is an improvement from earlier,”

The sarcasm was uncalled for especially now. It made your blood boil. To make matters worse, he kept going. His voice, that you always loved hearing, now sounded like an irritating ring in your ear. “Are you just going to hide under the blanket until I forget about everything?”

“Stop talking….please stop talking!” you pleaded, your voice was quivering and on the verge of tears. You felt like you were at a tipping point, standing on the edge of something already breaking.

The sensory overload from the argument along with the tension was still present, and you desperately needed silence.

There was a long pause and your pulse was thudding in your ears. Even if you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he regretted his words just from his silence.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights and go?” His tone quickly switched, a soft caress. You poked your head out of the blanket to look at him.

You felt guilt tugging on your heart after everything that had just happened moments ago. Your husband didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all of this. The least you could do now was end the night on a civil note.

“Turn off the lights but don’t leave me,” you requested. Without wasting a beat, Miguel got out of bed to turn off the lights before he climbed back in to embrace you.

The room was dark but you could still see his silhouette against the Nueva York city skyline from the bedroom window.

“Could you hold me? Please?”

“Of course,” his voice was a soothing balm against your firing nerves. Swallowing thickly, you pushed the blanket away and moved onto his waiting arms as he leaned against the headboard.

You settled onto his lap and you felt his broad arms wrap around you. Your eyes started to leak with your heated tears and before you could stop yourself, you broke into a sob.

“Just breathe, I’m not going anywhere. Take your time,” He muttered against the crown of your head. You rested your head against his chest with his heart thumping softly near your ear.

The throbbing was starting to ease and the relief that followed after came in waves. All that weeks worth of pent up tensity was released in one night through your tears.

With the absence of the lighting along with the silence, it was easier to reach the mellow state that your body was screaming for.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” you rambled, a sense of remorse crashing down on you like a storm.

“It’s okay…I feel like we should talk about some things though,”

“Like what?”

“How we should handle potential fights in our marriage. I don’t really like the way we argue and get at each other's throats so quickly,”

You let his words sink in. The mere thought made your heart ache. The situation would’ve never escalated this far if you hadn't talked to Miguel earlier. Instead you let things boil over.

“It’s my fault…”

“Why do you say that?”

“I kept brushing you off when you wanted to be there for me,” you admitted, a bitter irony taunting your confession.

In retrospect, you’ve witnessed Miguel struggle to open up about his feelings while you were still in the early stages of the relationship.

Even during your marriage, it was a huge step for him to finally be completely emotionally open with you. You’ve noticed how much your relationship has flourished since then and how closer you felt with him.

But now the tables have turned tonight, with you leaving Miguel oblivious to the series of weary emotions you were experiencing. You knew it wasn’t healthy for you or the baby growing inside you to carry such stress alone.

“I noticed the way you were struggling the past few days. I just wish you were more vulnerable with me and not feel like you have to put on a brave face just for my sake,” Miguel explained.

“I dont…I don’t really know where to start,” You tried to rack your brain and coordinate how to express the tension you’ve been feeling the past few days. It was difficult to pinpoint on one thing and string the words together.

“Everything just feels so overwhelming and too much for my brain to handle…even the clock ticking makes me want to rip my head off,” you clutched onto his shirt, a feeble attempt to hold onto your crumbling composure. “I don’t know if it’s the hormones from the pregnancy or a burn out. Or maybe both,”

“I’m leaning towards burn out since you’re showing all the signs, you’re easily irritated and I can see you’re overstimulated from the smell of the cooking to the lighting in the room,”

“Maybe you’re right,” you agreed softly. A lot of issues could be contained just by not saying anything. You seemed to be acutely aware of your own hesitation when it came to voicing your emotions.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share your feelings with Miguel; rather you didn’t know how to and feared the unknown reaction that may follow. You weren’t used to being this vulnerable.

You knew that you would rather hear Miguel share his emotions, even crying on your shoulder, than have him be silent. It was only fair that you took your own advice. Here you were advocating for openness, while grasping onto your own reticence.

“Could you do me a favour?” You asked in the midst of the silence that was shared between you.

“Of course,”

“I understand that you don’t want me to lift a finger especially while I’m pregnant but could you not try to intervene when I’m in the kitchen. I don’t like sitting around and I want to keep myself busy,”

You could sense the hesitance from him as he drew in a shaky breath before he spoke. “…yeah I can do that”

“You already have a lot on your plate,”

“I do, but promise me that you won’t leave me in the dark when you need something from me,”

“I promise.” You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. “I’m glad we’re on the same page Spiderman,”

Even if your view of him was obscured by the darkness in the room, you could still see his lips twitching up from your comment. “Mhmm that’s not an excuse for me to be a neglectful husband to you. So don’t act coy with me,”

“Oh I know. I’m just finding an excuse to be a smartass,” you teased him further by kissing along his jaw. Feeling his body tense from your touch, even if it was subtle, was a huge ego booster.

“Was that supposed to throw me off or something,” you could hear the groan he was trying to hide at the back of his throat as he spoke and it made your stomach flutter.

“Maybe,”

“Uh huh, you definitely did that on purpose,”

“I’ll do it again,”

“And I’ll kiss you right back,”

“Alright bet,” Before he could retaliate, you were bold enough to lap over his lower lip with your tongue. A low moan could be heard from him in response.

It was rare for you to initiate such a confident move like this but there was an undeniable spark and you didn’t want it to go just yet. The bleak mood from earlier was now forgotten and was replaced with arousal.

You pulled away to reposition yourself so you were fully facing him on your lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

His grip on your waist tightened in response drawing you closer to him until your bump was pressing against his torso. “You have no idea what you got yourself into,”

Finally with a longing that built in your stomach, you leaned in until your lips met in a fervent kiss. The weight of your doubts and anxiety was now completely diminished as you felt a magnitude that pulled you into bliss.

You felt him run his tongue over your lips and you parted them slightly in response. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, completely taking over your mouth with a low groan.

As you pulled away, breathless with desire, you couldn’t help but tease, “Too much or not enough?”

To which he responded, “Not even close to enough,”

“Good, then I’ll keep going. You’re not getting the upper hand here,” you were beaming at your own words.

But your confidence was cut short when you noticed his hand reach over and slipped under your pants and past your panties until his fingers were grazing against your folds.

Feeling the air that brushed against your slickness was enough to humble you. You didn’t realise how soaked you were until you felt yourself suction around him greedily as he pushed both his middle and ring finger in.

“You’re saying that now, just wait until I’m inside you,” he was taunting you, completely throwing you off but you would happily let his fingers do all the talking now, even if it was at the expense of your pride.

Your hand immediately reached to grapple onto his biceps to keep yourself steady. If it wasn’t for your restricted mobility from your bump, you would’ve started rolling your hips to ride on his fingers.

But instead you allowed him to do all the work. Your head rested on his shoulder and you moaned into his neck as the pad of his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nerves of your clitoris.

He dragged his fingers out, now wet from your arousal, and slowly ran it over your folds. The first thing you felt after he pulled his hands away from your cunt was his hard on, pressed against you.

You would’ve started grinding against him with how needy you were if he didn’t hold you still. He held you by the side and moved you off his lap so he could remove his pants and boxers before lying down flat on his back.

You didn’t need the light to know that his dick was standing on its end with beads of precum leaking from the tip. You removed your own clothes and felt the cold air slap on your cunt.

“Ven acá amor,” his voice was inviting and you’d be a fool to deny him.

You let him guide you, given his enhanced vision that allowed him to see in the dark. Both hands were on your rear, spreading your cheeks before you felt the tip nudge into your folds.

“Oh God-” you whimpered. You felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, sinking yourself lower until you were balls deep. Your hips flushed against him with your stiff clit pressed against the top of his groin,

“No divinity. Just your husband’s dick inside you,” A wide grin spread across his face. His hands were all over your growing belly, feeling the warmth of you and the occasional kick of the baby.

“Que bonita,” he said in awe. A sense of pride washed over him knowing he was the one who knocked you up, the woman he loved and the mother of his future child. “Muy linda tu barriga,”

You seemed to be more sensitive to his praises especially given the fact that you were getting cock drunk now.

Ever since your bump was starting to show, Miguel never missed the opportunity to praise you. He wanted you to feel proud of your physique and not be hesitant on your changing body.

His hands reached over to hold your waist before he piston his hips up and took control of the pace. You could tell he was holding back from going rough, handling you with extra care.

The feel of him thrusting inside was enough to knock the senses out of you until you were high from bliss. He was making sure you felt every sensation in full capacity, feeling every crevice of his dick being caressed by your silky walls.

His hands reached over to the back of your neck to pull you in until your lips met again. The kiss was disoriented and breathy as he was still trying to maintain his pace.

Each brush of his lips on yours was feeding into your ecstasy. You pulled away and nestled into his neck, taking in his dick so well.

“That’s it, let me make you feel good. Let me make you forget about your problems, amor,” he whispered lovingly in your ear.

“Miguel…” you couldn’t form a proper response, your moans of pleasure drowning out your voice.

He was so good at making feel this way, reaching optimal pleasure from his touches. With the absence of the lighting you allowed yourself to just physically feel everything he was giving you.

His broad head nudging into your cervix.

His soft whispers fanning against your ear.

His hands all over and worshiping you everywhere he could reach.

“God, you’re so easy to please,” You could tell he was reaching his peak. With one final buck from his hip, he dragged his dick to reach the depth of your cunt before he reached his climax.

You felt the contraction of your walls around him as he drenched his balls inside of you. His grip on you loosened and his dick slipped free from your grasp before deflating onto his thighs.

You whined from the sudden withdrawal and the muscles of your walls relaxed. There were still remnants of his cum that was sticking between your thighs but you would deal with that later.

Miguel kissed the top of your forehead before letting out a deep sigh. You both lay together in each other’s embraces, basking in the afterglow with your breaths merging together.

Amidst the tranquil intimacy, your stomach let out an unexpected growl, reminding you that you skipped dinner.

Miguel chuckled softly, “So, have you still lost your appetite?”

You huffed. “Well it’s suddenly back now that I’ve worked it up in other ways,”

Hot take: cooking together in the kitchen is NOT romantic 🙅🏻‍♀️🗣️ move out of my fucking way and let me work

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @monarchberrysblog @strawberryjuice9 @lazyjellyfish300 @quack-ie @ghost-lantern

@ginanet @superstar-t20 @roreadsfanfics @francesca-the-1st @vanillapinkrose

@dfffghio @migueloharastruelove @nerdyninjaprincess @unhinged-reader-36 @maiyart

@nediks @ahcrie4help @cl3stevu @kodo1221 @boobsbeesbongos

@emelie-s-h @pretty-pink-princesss @safixiovi

Just a heads up, this may be the last Miguel fic I’ll be posting for a while. Writing for him doesn’t feel the same anymore and my hyperfixation for him is slowly wearing thin. Im not sure yet though, but savour this as much as you can I guess. That and I feel like my writing isn’t good enough for the fandom anymore :p

Also reminder that I will be interacting and reblogging fic from my second account @lmaoyouwhore

[paymechildsupport]

Teacher!Ryomen Sukuna x Sorcerer!Reader // Teacher!Sukuna HC's <3

(THIS IS NOT STUDENT X TEACHER, READER IS NOT A STUDENT!)

Personally, I think it’s an actual crime there isn’t more teacher!sukuna content out there. I’ve only ever seen one fan art of it, and ever since I’ve been scrounging around on my hands and knees to find more

So m’ gonna just do it myself 🙏 

-!! [AFAB + AMAB] READER (HC’s involving reader’s bodily autonomy have both a female and male vers. → brief smut drabble at the end)    [everyone's in on this one👏]

-!! Reader is a rather powerful sorcerer 

-!! CW: Slight possessiveness (mainly for the short smut at the end → overstimulation, dacryphilia, slight size kink(?), mention of double cocks for og form Sukuna)

-!! Veeeery slight nod to manga spoiler if you squint. If you don’t know it 99% certain you won’t pick up on it

-!! Sukuna being a bit of a softy for his SO

3k+ words

————

————

Awhile (around a good few centuries) ago, Ryomen Sukuna came to the conclusion that no, this was in fact not the way he wanted to live his life. He decided to put everything behind him; the bloodshed, the death, the massacres, and cannibalisms— (okay maybe that stayed the same)— all the things that essentially made his staple as the King of Curses. He’s a changed curse, he swears it. Honestly? Human food? Not that bad. Kinda worth changing his world view for 

With a changed work ethic, and a changed heart, Ryomen Sukuna made the conscious decision to become a teacher, — specifically a teacher in sorcery

—————-

Ryomen Sukuna works at Jujutsu Tech,-- the infamous King of Curses, who predominantly spends most of his days helping ungrateful brats obtain the necessary skills to kill his kind

→”No, you thick-skinned brat, you’re doing it all wrong!”

    “I’m sorry, Sukuna-sensei! I’m trying,--.. I really am! Could you maybe go over it one more time–”

             “No! You’re going to die all alone as your friends are tortured mercilessly!”

“How could you say that…” 🥺 

Following the fateful passing of Yuji Itadori’s grandpa, the poor kid awakened as a sorcerer with a rather nasty supply of cursed energy; a complete abnormality with an aura suspiciously like that of a certain Ryomen Sukuna… 

→ “The little brat is not living with me” 

“Awh, c’mon Sukuna-!! The kid’s a ticking time bomb to disaster, he needs help controlling his cursed energy, and who better to help than the amazing King of Curses himself!” 

“Shut up, Satoru Gojo.” 

“Ohoho~... looks like someone isn’t happy to become a single mother~~” 

“What-!? Single moth– fool, you yourself are a single mother” 

“...oh, yeah. Hehe… 😚”

“I hate it here…😒”  

Now, with the additional burden of personally attending to Yuji Itadori, there was only one thing keeping Ryomen Sukuna from completely imploding: 

You. His partner, his lover, his spouse, his anchor,-- the only source of light in his miserable, cursed life, – the sole person keeping him from reverting back to his old, murderous ways. 

Meeting a few years back, the ancient curse could’ve sworn the world got a dozen shades lighter the second his eyes landed on your form in the Tokyo crowd. Where everyone was actively moving away from his looming, intimidating hulk of a body, you looked at him with eyes void of the fear reflected off so many others. 

You approached him with interest, recognizing his unmistakable aura for that of the King of Curses, – and, to his utmost shock, – you proceeded to have a perfectly normal, civilized conversation with him. Never once did you look at him like you would a monster. Every time he’d get lost in those eyes of yours, never once did he find anything short of pure love and affection. It was sickeningly sweet. 

There on a mission, you introduced yourself as a fellow Jujutsu Sorcerer. 

Ryomen Sukuna could’ve sworn he’d heard your name before: rather infamous with the higher-ups, you were a well-respected sorcerer. That only aided to his immense confusion: why would a sorcerer of such high esteem and all around regard even remotely think talking to him, the King of Curses, was a good idea? 

Absolutely flabbergasted and entranced from your first encounter, Ryomen Sukuna was practically completely at your mercy. It took very little for you to simply haul him over your shoulder and take him wherever; he’d soon become akin to a lost puppy with you. 

Ryomen Sukuna is absolutely down-horrendous with his emotions. Hah, communication? Never heard of her. 

He’s never felt this deep for anyone before, and it terrifies him to no end. You terrify him to no end,-- the amount of power you have over him could be almost comical. 

At the start, he flat out avoided you altogether. Anytime he’d see you on campus he’d immediately start in the opposite direction. Anytime you’d attempt to strike up a conversation something would come up,-- he’d have to go somewhere, or the brats had gotten themselves in trouble again. And when Satoru Gojo found out about his little “crush”...  oh boy, the teasing was lethal.

It wasn’t long before he craved your touch, and Ryomen Sukuna started to enter withdrawal from your presence. You were brutal, the poison continuously being pumped into his veins, – which was extra ironic, considering he was after all the King of Poisons, – how the actual hell did he end up in such a position? What have you done to him? 

Man, he was cooked. 

With a lot of time, and a heck of a lot of patience, did the curse finally allow himself to reveal more of himself to you. 

It’s never been easy, – even after you two were married did Ryomen Sukuna still suck absolute ass at communicating his wants. 

He craved your attention, your gaze, your approval. You were the drug that he simply couldn’t get enough of. 

He’s not good with words, – in the past everything was just handed to him, – he had no clue how to actually work for someone’s affection. 

Please be patient with him, – he’s trying, he really is 🥺. No matter how much he denies it, no matter how much he complains he hates being dependent on someone, no matter how much he claims how meaningless love is, you both know deep down these feelings of deep admiration and affection aren’t one sided. Sometimes, that fact alone can get you through even his most frustrating of times. He pushes you away because he feels guilty, but almost immediately does he regret his actions and desire your presence more than anything. The things you do to him 

He lost his original form centuries ago, abandoning it after his near fatal confrontation with the sorcerers of the Heian Era. Gravely wounded, he absolved to staying hidden, laying low in the shadows. Sometimes he wished he still had that form, – still had his four arms, his two faces– he felt stronger, prettier in that body. Despite how much you told him how beautiful his current, two-armed form was, he wonders if you would’ve liked his original form– what it could do, how it could please your body. (But most of all he missed his two massive cocks to shove deep inside you–)

Ryomen Sukuna is very insecure about his image as the feared “King of Curses”. He’d be seen as weak, like he’d gone soft, – if anyone found out about you. That did little to deter you from showering him with your affections though <3 Even if he struggled to receive such affections–:

“What the actual hell do you think you’re doing–” 

“What? Am I not allowed to visit my darling husband at his job?” 

“No- ..! Who exactly do you think you are, you can’t just waltz into wherever to embarrass me–” You were in an empty classroom in what would be the normal time for lunch. The students would be out eating, so it was only you and him.

“Is that really all you think I do? Embarrass you?” You fought to conceal the pained expression threatening to bubble up to the surface. 

“Yes! Do you know what they’ll think of me if they see me with you? He snaps angrily

“Are you.. Ashamed of me?” You blink 

“What-? No, of course not” His face contorts into a scowl 

“Then why can’t people see me with you?!” 

“That’s not what I meant–” He hisses 

“Yeah?” you retort, “then, what did you mean by that?” 

“I–....”  Ryomen Sukuna only ever seems to find himself short of words with you

Nodding curtly, “I’ll take my leave then” you make your way to the door 

“Wait-” you pause, he hated seeing you upset. It made him feel hopeless, it made him feel weak. “tsk, nevermind. Leave then” 

Huffing, you step out the door. Your second foot never even leaves the threshold before you’re lifted up by a pair of strong arms. 

“Gah-! Ryomen– what the hell?!” 

“Shut up.” the curse growls, placing you down on the nearest desk with a surprising gentleness, “just shut up.” He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck

You smile, accustomed to his brazenness, knowing this was him succumbing to his own affections for you.

“I’ll be quieter next time.” 

“Mmm… don’t be”

“Oh?” you quirk an eyebrow, “are you no longer embarrassed of being seen with me?” 

“No,” he grumbles, “if any pathetic worm dares to utter something against me, I’ll cleave their head off” 

Chuckling, “charming”

“I’ll do it for you too” that part he whispers, so low you almost miss it. Almost. 

“Awh, you’d slaughter anyone putting dirt on my name? And they say romance is dead 🥰” 

“Shut the hell up.” 

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

Sukuna Ryomen would have a special ringer set for you in his phone so whenever you’d text him he’d know it was you 

He never responds to anyone’s texts,-- anyone’s that’s not yours. 

The second he hears that notification that man is immediately scrolling. It took him years to figure out how to work a telephone,-- and he still kinda sucks at it. So it takes him a while to respond, – he’s just a slow typer :) 

He’ll be in the middle of sparring with Yuji for his training when he’ll hear your notification and swiftly whip out his phone, – still in the middle of fighting. Poor Yuji will still be sweating his ass off trying his very diddly darn hardest to land a singular punch and he won't even glance up from his phone 😭

It doesn’t matter what he’s doing, – the guy could be in the middle of fighting a Special Grade and he’d start texting you about what he wants for dinner while simultaneously throwing slashes 😟

Not big on PDA, – but alone? Man, you can’t get the bastard off you, – blud’s clingier than a kitten 😭he just really likes being nice and snuggled up in your arms 

Alone, will often call you, – regardless of gender, – doll, (whore), sweetheart (if you’re not being a pain in the ass), – possessive lil’ shit and likes to add ‘my’ in front of any pet name, just to enforce the fact that you’re his. 

Calls you karasu –(Japanese word for raven) 

Sukuna Ryomen is incredibly picky with what he eats, (unless it’s your ass–)     – he needs his meals done in a very specific way, otherwise he’s just not eating. It needs to be your meals too. If bro forgets to bring lunch or you don’t have time to make one for him he just starves. He’s an absolute menace when hangry– super grumpy. None of the students can stand him hungry, – and he refuses to defile his delicate palette with fast food of all horrible things

You got some of those cute cookie cutters for sandwiches and gave him little star sandwiches one day for his lunch. Mans was over the fucking moon. His ass refuses to ever eat another sandwich again unless its cut into cute lil’ shapes 🤏🥺

Be careful if you ever decide to visit him at work after a certain amount of times, cuz he will make you useful: using you as a sparring partner, giving you chores, making an example out of you to the other students. 

You’re strong enough to hold your own against the King of Curses in a quick spar, – which really only means you won’t get immediately eviscerated upon throwing hands. 

You’re strong, but nowhere near as strong as Ryomen Sukuna. 

He’d only give you a cocky smirk, telling you to hurry up and lock in. You stare at the expecting faces of Megumi, Nobara and Yuji – who you naturally have grown a rather close bond to, being around each other so often. He gives you a reassuring thumbs up, smiling with an expectant glamor. You gulp, glancing back at your husband who has the most shit-eating grin on his face. Oh, you were cooked. 

You manage to successfully dodge at least two strong attacks before being thrown onto your ass, the wind knocked out of you. Huffing, you scramble up, irritation giving you newfound determination. The King only raises an eyebrow at you. 

You explode into a sprint, dashing up behind him, seemingly catching him off-guard. You lean in real close to his ear, whispering in a sultry tone: 

“Your shoelace is untied” 

“What, I’m not even wearing shoelaces–” and he gets thrown into the nearest tree, snapping it in half. 

“Hahah!!” 

“No way, Sukuna just got his ass handed to him!” Nobara exclaims, grinning

“That was so cool!” gushes Yuji, sending a wave of pride flowing through you at his excitement. 

It is short lived, as your husband comes up behind you, glaring with a burning passion in his eyes. 

“You totally beat him up, you sent him flying–” Megumi slaps a hand to Yuji’s mouth, his rambling getting choked off with a “mmph-!” 

His smile is laced with dynamite as Sukuna dismisses the students early. Confused, but mostly relieved, the trio scurry away, Nobara and Yuji shouting cheery goodbyes over their shoulders. 

Only you were close enough to see the raging lust in the King of Curse’s many eyes. His gaze rakes over your body, tensed in a fight or flight state, predatory. You swallow, hard, chuckling nervously, “Heheheh…”  

Oh man, you were so horribly, undoubtedly cooked. 

(short smut begins below line)

----------

[AFAB vers.]

Sukuna is brutal, hips smashing against yours, large hands gripping so hard large bruises start to form on your hips. You cry out, sobbing, pleading with him to slow the fuck down. Sukuna only clicks his tongue, condescension dripping from his tone, 

“Where’s all that confidence and strength from before, eh?” 

“h..*hic*..huh-?” 

“Tsk,” he grunts, slamming himself particularly hard into your leaking heat, causing you to scream in both pleasure and pain

“S..sukuna-!! P- *hic* please..-! I-..I can’t— I can’t– OHH~” You keel over, knees giving in from underneath you. You stay pressed firmly against the teacher’s desk– his desk–  in his empty classroom, – only being held by Sukuna’s deadly grip. “I-It *hic*.. It– HURTS..- *hic*” 

“You can,...  and. you. will.”  he punctuates each syllable with another unforgivable thrust, “You seemed confident enough you.. *pant* take me in a..- *pant* .. in a fight– fuck–” Warm cum swells, coating your insides white. 

Your eyes roll violently to the back of your head, thighs squeezing desperately against him, instinctively trying to milk him for all he’s got, – despite the excess cum already spilling from your abused hole, kept in only by Sukuna’s massive cock. Was this the fourth or the fifth time..? 

You lost count ages ago, numbers losing all sense of value along with everything else in your head, Sukuna absolutely fucking your goddamn brains out. Dumbed by his cock, you could only limply gaze dreamily through lidded eyes, a look of pure bliss on your face. 

Sukuna grins down at your fucked out face, admiring you as his masterpiece. You looked so pretty impaled on his cock. Pulling your head back by your hair, he smashes his lips onto yours in a sloppy kiss. You truly were the best thing to come of his long, cursed life. 

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

[AMAB vers.]

Sukuna is cruel, hips smashing against your ass, large hands gripping so hard large bruises start to form on your hips. He fucks you, bent over the desk, – his desk, in his empty classroom,-- and shaking like a pathetic mutt. You cry out, sobbing, pleading with him to slow the fuck down. Sukuna only clicks his tongue, condescension dripping from his tone, 

“Where’s all that confidence and strength from before, eh?” 

“h..*hic*..huh-?” 

“Tsk,” he grunts, large hand closing around your swollen, throbbing cock. Your eyes widen in horror as he begins to jerk you off at a grueling pace, causing you to scream in both pleasure and pain

“S..sukuna-!! P- *hic* please..-! I-..I can’t— I can’t– OHH~” You keel over, knees giving in from underneath you. You stay pressed firmly against the desk only held by Sukuna’s torso. “I-It *hic*.. It– HURTS..- *hic*” 

“You can,...  and. you. will.”  He punctuates each syllable with another unforgivable thrust, syncing with a violent pump to your cock, limpand emptied out. “You seemed confident enough you.. *pant* take me in a..- *pant* .. in a fight– fuck–” Warm cum swells, coating your insides white. 

Your eyes roll violently to the back of your head, thighs squeezing desperately against him, instinctively trying to milk him for all he’s got, – despite the excess cum already spilling from your abused hole, kept in only by Sukuna’s massive cock. You're so drained, already milked dry, a few meager squirts of cum dripping from your cock. Was this the fourth or the fifth time..? 

You lost count ages ago, numbers losing all sense of value along with everything else in your head, Sukuna absolutely fucking your goddamn brains out. Dumbed by his cock, you could only limply gaze dreamily through lidded eyes, the look of utter worship on your face enough for him to harden once again inside of you. 

Sukuna grins down at your fucked out face, admiring you as his masterpiece. You looked so pretty impaled on his cock. Pulling your head back by your hair, he smashes his lips onto yours in a sloppy kiss. You truly were the best thing to come of his tedious, damned life. 

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

Sukuna brain-rot goes hard-!! He's such a goofy lil' guy, I love him :3

[nhlclover]

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐒

word count: 1.02k

summary: you and matthew get into an argument, testing the strength of your relationship.

warnings: angst, arguing

notes: finally getting around to old requests…

The air in your apartment was thick and heavy, tension hanging in the air like an oppressive fog. Each breath felt like a burden. A simple disagreement that started an hour ago now had you and Matthew caught in a heated argument, ensnared in a tangled web of emotions that refused to dissipate.

The fiery argument was fueled by the pent-up frustrations and grievances the pair of you held. You took turns shooting your words across the room, each sentiment increasingly more bitter than the last. Each accusation is aimed at the heart, both of you letting your anger get the best of the situation and just wanting to cause pain. It was a standoff with neither of you wanting to concede.

As the argument reached its crescendo, a sense of fragility now hung in the air. You sighed, exasperated. Your cheeks stained with tears and your lungs tight with anxiety. 

“I can’t argue anymore, Matt.” You say softly. 

You were curled up on the couch, knees pulled into your chest, while Matthew stood at a considerable distance across the room. He leaned on the island, the granite was cool against the clammy skin of his palms. The sound of you sniffling softly caused a crack to go through his chest.

“I…” You breathed, your voice trailing off. You struggled to find the right words to convey the turmoil churning in your stomach. “I think I need some space.”

He looked up at you, your frame squeezed into a tight ball. “What does that mean, y/n?” Matthew asks.

His face was so delicate like your next words could shatter him if you weren’t too careful. “I mean I think I need to some space for a bit. Just to sort through my thoughts.”

Matthew pushes off the counter, heading to the front hall. You spring up from the couch, following him. In the foyer, Matt shoves his feet into a pair of sneakers, yanking his coat off the rack.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he grabs his car keys of the key rack. 

“Giving you space.” He replies. 

The door slams behind him as he heads for the parking garage. Getting in his car, he had no destination in mind. He let his internal GPS take him wherever. Soon enough, he was pulling into the driveway of a familiar home. Matthew parked his car in the driveway, the engine clicking as it cooled down. He sat for a moment, staring blankly through the windshield before getting out and going to the front door.

Upon opening the door, John was met with a sad shell of his teammate. He opened the door wider, allowing Matthew to enter. He followed John into the familiar living room, sinking onto the couch. John’s gaze was fixed on Matthew.

“What’s on your mind, kid?” He asked. 

With a sigh, Matthew poured out his heart, retelling the last few days in which the tensions rose between the two of you, before finally boiling over into the argument from this morning. John listened intently, offering some words of wisdom once Matthew was finished.

“Sounds like it’s been a rough couple of days for you guys,” John said, Matthew nodding in agreement. “But disagreements are just opportunities for growth. You know how the two of you navigate these rough patches are just going to make you guys stronger.”

Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What if we don’t figure it out though?” Matthew asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. 

John couldn’t help but chuckle softly, recognizing the anxiety of going through an argument in a young relationship. 

“It might not be easy, but you’ll get there. You’ve got to be patient with each other, try and see her point of view. Remember you’re a team. You’re in this together.” John said.

A sense of clarity washed over Matthew, John’s words aiding Matthew in navigating this. John’s sage advice was born from years of experience and Matthew took comfort in knowing that John knew what he was talking about. 

Before long, the familiar sound of boisterous laughter and shrieks filled the home. John’s kids enter the room, having just returned from school. Matthew found himself drawn into their world, the simple joy of their company offering a welcome distraction. 

As the evening wore on, Matthew lost track of time, the hours slipping away as he played hide and seek with the Tavares children, as well as being invited to stay for dinner. 

Back at your apartment, you were still sitting on the sofa, nerves wracking your body. Matthew hadn't called or texted. You believed he was safe, that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. But your heart was still in your stomach as you watched the time tick by. 

When you heard the front door clicking open, you sprang up from the couch, meeting your boyfriend in the front hall where he was removing his shoes. 

“Where were you?” You ask, your voice a little louder than you intended. “You didn’t call, you didn’t text…Nothing! I was so worried Matt!”

You launched into a tirade, your words sharp with frustration as you spewed out every single anxious thought you’d imagined since he left. Matthew let you vent your frustrations, upset with the fact that he had been gone for the last 6 hours. When you finally fell silent, Matthew spoke.

“I’m fine.” He said softly. “I just went somewhere to clear my head.”

You fell quiet, not quite knowing what to say next. The pair of you stood there, looking at one another as the tension slowly seemed to dissipate. 

“I’m sorry…” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t…”

“It’s okay, y/n.” He reassured, stepping towards you. “We both needed time to breathe.”

There’s another beat of silence before you speak again. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. And for what I said, I’m sorry Matt.”

“Me too. We both said things we shouldn’t have.” Matthew replies.  Matthew reaches out, taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry.”

His touch sends a wave of warmth through you, You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. The words of John from earlier reverberate in Matthew’s mind. You guys were a team and you were in this together. It was going to take a whole lot more than an argument to separate the two of you.

[bakubunny]

you said you wouldn't post more werewolf!bakugo x bunny hybrid!reader, but i said no such thing ;)

( •̀ ω •́ )✧

werewolf!bakugo, who, every rut cycle, has to go "on a camping trip" to the woods. he normally leaves his pet bunny hybrid at home, sparing her the burden of having to deal with him. he doesn't want to scare her more than he already does. doesn't want his cute little bunny to fear for her life. and he knows there are instincts he has, more primal and hungry, that he might not be able to ignore if she comes along.

werewolf!bakugo, who makes one too many mistakes the next time his rut is coming. gets a little too snippy with his cute little bunny. makes her run away because he's yelling and snarling too much. he thinks, "good, i'll apologize when i come back and it's done". but he forgets to check the backseat of his truck. thinks the overwhelming smell of her in the car is just from all the rides she's taken with him there, amplified by his instincts.

werewolf!bakugo, who finally realizes his mistake when it's far too late to turn around. he shoves his poor little bunny in a room of her own in the cabin, tell her not to leave no matter what she hears, tells her to lock the door. it's a good thing he had at least some foresight, because there are latches lining the threshold.

bunny hybrid!reader, who's a good girl. she doesn't move a muscle. not even when she hears her master howling through the night in the adjacent room. not even when she hears the sound of chains — likely used to keep bakugo in place — rattling loud before they're ripped from the wall. not even when she hears the faux gentle knocks on her door followed by heavy pounding and demands to let her master in.

bunny hybrid!reader, who feels her heartrate increase when the door begins to rattle, shake, and splinter. she's shivering in fear (in anticipation?) when it all suddenly goes quiet. she can only hear the pounding of her heart, the rasp of her breath...

...and the window sliding open.

"ya forgot to lock this one, bunny"

a/n: i just came across a popular post where people were complaining abt too much bunny x werewolf stuff in general, so i guess if this somehow reaches that corner of the internet, this is my first real foray into this trope so don’t @ me for being in love with it ok?

eta: original werewolf kats post

neon’s gonna take me out with this istg fam. also we’re going to pretend for a moment that a ripped, 7ft+ werewolf can fit thru a window.

his voice sounded strange, lower and rougher than usual, hungry. you knew better than to ignore him.

“s-s-sorry, k-katsuki. i-i'm sorry,” you sputtered.

you weren’t sure what to expect as the whistle of the wind filtered in with the rumble of katsuki’s chest on his every breath. big, clawed hands pulled his massive frame through the window. you cowered and pulled into yourself as you sat on the bed he’d provided you with.

standing in front of you was a creature you didn’t recognize, one that looked more like a wolf on two legs, a human covered in ash blonde fur. he was at least two feet taller than you with patches of fur that were lighter on his chest and face. his teeth were bared as he snarled, nose scrunched along his muzzle. a growl stirred in his chest as he stared you down with crimson eyes. what was left of the binding on his wrists he’d tried to use to keep himself fell to the floor with a loud clunk. he stalked towards you, glare unwavering.

“p-please don’t be mad,” you said. "please don't h-"

katsuki’s fist flew towards your as he growled angrily, lips curled. he grabbed you by the face. you flinched, eyes shut tight. his grip was firm as one of his claws pressed painfully into your cheek, but you were unharmed.

sailva quickly built up around his bottom lip. a long, dark tongue dipped out to lick them. "don't you dare. i would never hurt ya. you should know that much by now."

your heart raced, a cold sweat on your skin as he stood there and watched you tremble in fear. instincts screamed at you to run, run, run. your stomach twisted into a tight knot of cramps from his scent; you couldn't pin it down but it was strong. but your brain, the last to follow, told you that katsuki was safe. so you froze.

“s-sorry, i’m sorry i didn’t know you - you-” your eyes scanned over his form again, terrifyingly strong and foreign.

“i know. i wasn’t gonna tell ya. but secret’s out now cause ya just had to sneak into the truck, didn’t ya? couldn’t just listen to me the first time like a good little bunny cause ya thought i was mad. what did you plan on doin’ once ya got here and i found out, huh? try n’ snuggle your way outta me bein’ all pissy like you usually do? ‘s a little different when ya don’t know what you’re gettin’ into, baby bun.”

katsuki studied your face as he licked his lips again, drooling by the time he did. “i know ya don’t get it all the time, but i’m tryin’ to keep ya safe. you’re lucky your first heat hasn’t hit yet… but-” he pushed his muzzle close to your neck and sniffed a little. his grip tightened painfully as he took in a deep breath and growled low in his chest.

“that’s about to change, ain’t it?”

@dcsiremc @zazter-den

[lunargrapejuice]

comforting astarion after a nightmare

no pronouns used, post cazador fight written with spawn astarion in mind, really cuddly & touchy<3

the nightmares are something that may never be escapable, not even in death could astarion fully be rid of all that cazador has done to him. not that it hadn’t felt damn good to do. but tonight as he wakes, still so very hungry and nearly gasping for air, he doesn’t worry if he’s back in that lonely dark place where he was starved of everything, where a part of him died and was damned on keeping a fragment of him throughout his eternal life. 

the weight of your arms keeping him pressed close to your chest, tucked under your chin, the warmth of your body and the steady beat of your heart in his ears is enough to convince his nightmare ridden mind that he was no longer in his master's grasp and would never be again. another holds him now, with gentleness and patience and love, and as he pulls away from your grasp in order to sit up, he feels what he’s sure is the equivalent of a feeling of an anxiously beating heart begging to settle in the depths of his chest.

he’s quiet and attentive in his movements so as to not stir you more than he already has, carefully untangling your legs and keeping you under the blanket as he sits up and takes in a long breath of cool air while ruby eyes watch you settle back into a comfortable position, never fully waking but one hand stretching out as if you were reaching for him.

he doesn’t know how long he sits there longing to touch your skin, to hold your hand in his like you’ve let him dozens of times since making his cold dead heart beat once more. you held his heart so gently in your palms, as protective of it as he was to your own. and surely he knows you wouldn’t mind his touch now. knowing you, you were more likely to gravitate towards it but in moments like this, where the weight of his burdens, his sins, makes him feel unworthy of all of this, of you, he hesitates. frozen in place but aching to reach out for your hand that his eyes can’t be torn from. dreadfully counting down the hours until your love ends.

“astarion?" your quiet voice, laced with heavy sleep but telling of your worry all the same, brings him back from his thoughts but his chest is still tight, still full of worry.

"oh, my dear- i didn't mean to wake you." he hadn’t noticed or heard you wake but as quickly as he blinks you’re rubbing the sleep from your eyes, assuring him he didn't wake you, and before he can say anything more, bursh this off, pretent everythings alright, and get you back to sleep, you’re moving closer to him and brushing the curls stuck to his forehead in a sheen of sweat with the pads of your fingers.

“are you okay?” you ask, genuine and as soft as the way you caress down his cheek.

melting into your touch, dark lashes fluttering closed, his slightly chilled fingers lay on top of yours and stop your movements. “you needn’t worry darling,” he replies faintly against your palm before placing a kiss there, his lips lingering on your skin, never wanting to part. 

it doesn’t get past you that he didn’t actually answer your question or that he certainly is not okay but you don’t pry further. he will tell you if and when he’s ready and for now, you just want him to know he isn’t alone, that even though there is still so much to face, you would do it side by side.

when his eyes open, immediately finding your own, you offer him a smile and feel your heart leap when his gaze softens even more so. the handsome features of his face telling of the affects you had on him, of the way your love had changed him. red eyes glistening like crystalized roses, the deepest shade of blood red and full of the purests of devotions. one you very much shared.

“c’mere,” you pull on the hand he still holds onto and easily he follows after you, crawling on his other hand and knees back into your embrace.

he’s practically on top of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, peppering small kisses on the lingering marks of his fangs left from earlier, but it’s a comfortable weight and you don’t wait to snuggle closer to him. one hand in his hair, carding through ringlets of his white locks, your fingers gently breaking apart small tangles. it’s soothing, easing to the tightness of his chest with each pass of your fingers against his scalp and over the tip of his ear. 

“i dreamt of him,” astarion says lowly after a few quiet and comforting moments. his grip on you grows with each word, never enough to hurt you but hard enough that there was no way you could slip from his grasp, his lingering unease making him worried that at any moment you would.

your own grip on him grows, the pressure of your head now resting against his making him sigh in relief. this was real. your entire journey, ending cazador with his own hands, that was real. not the nightmare that would likely find him again in a few nights, maybe even tomorrow and perhaps more real and terrible than this one but when he wakes, there would be no denying what would be right in front of him; freedom he had stopped praying for long ago, parasite aside, and love that brought him back to life after centuries, your love. both of which he would not be so easy to let go of.

“i’m here,” you promise in a steady whisper and he feels the picking up of your heart rate underneath him. “you are safe and free and loved,” your hand in his hair gently pulls him into you more, lost in pale curls still damp with sweat, the tip of his nose nuzzling into the skin on your neck as he squeezes you in return. “i’ve got you.”

astarion takes in your scent, the flora that always lingers on your skin even through dirt and blood and sweat, the sweetness of your blood underneath, the cleanliness of the shampoo you used earlier in the day. he accepts your words, your warmth and the softness of your touches, letting them unravel his fears and worries, the uncomfortableness throughout his body, and leaving them bare for you to do with as you pleased.

it’s not long before he slips back into meditation under the melody of your heart beat, the rise and fall of your chest underneath him, the passing of your fingers against his ears and through his hair.

horrid memories of the past do not continue to play behind his closed eyes. not unlike how the sun kept vampires away, your radiance shone so brightly those dreams had no choice but to scurry back to the shadows, unable to face your light that illuminated the once darkened path that held him in place for so many years with no hope of escape. there was so much ahead of him now and with your hand in his, seeing your bright smile and sparkling eyes, basking in your love and light every step of the way, he was certain there was nothing he could not face.

[katszumi]

“haji?” his name escaped your lips in a whisper.

the lamps from the street lit up the night sky, the stars from above doing it’s best to keep the night awake. still, darkness surrounded the area, only dark figures could be depicted from their eyes.

you could only guess it was close to midnight from the way the moon shone and the cold slap of wind that gushed your way. however, the quick warmth of your face and the rapid throb inside of your chest disregarded the chills.

iwaizumi analyzed you, his eyes wandering your body as if you were a stranger.

“haji, what are you doing here?”

his lips parted, he wanted to answer you, but he wasn’t even sure why he ran to your house at midnight. he just needed to see you.

“my flight is tomorrow.” he announced like you hadn’t known. all of the third years celebrated one final time before his departure, resulting in endless laughter and tears. as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want to leave japan behind, because you were still here.

“i know. that’s why you should be getting some sleep, you have a long day tomorrow.” you forced yourself to swallow; to eat away the gnawing feelings that were in the back of your throat aching to come out. you didn’t want to put that burden on him, especially at a bad time like this.

iwaizumi dryly chuckled. of course you were trying to care for him, but he could see the wistful look you gave him. he could tell you were tired due to the bags under your eyes, but your eyes were wide with adoration and hope.

he took a step forward, “you’re too kind, you know that?” his words soft. “can i sleep here tonight? i can’t wake up to an empty room, i just can’t.” he rambled.

without hesitation, you widened the door for him to come inside. you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea for him to stay, but, who were you to tell hajime iwaizumi no?

quickly, iwaizumi welcomed the warmth of your home to his body. his eyes traveled the rooms nearby, he took a mental screenshot, because who knew when was the next time he’d be here or if you even still lived here when he’d come back. he wanted to remember as much of you as he could, but he knew the figments of his memory just wasn’t enough.

he followed you to your bedroom, the two of you sitting next to each other on your queen-sized bed. he always loved the size of your bed, it seemed to fit him more than his own bed at home.

“i’m sorry for knocking at your door so late.” he apologized, his eyes finally settling in to the dimly lit room. he could now make out your features that he was so infatuated with.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll always answer the door for you, haji.” and god, he loved the way his name fell from your lips. like you were destined to say only his name only.

iwaizumi sighed, “america is going to suck without you or oikawa there. it’s like i have to start all over again, just without the company of you two.” he confessed.

your hand found his, gently grabbing it and rubbing circles against his rough skin. you could feel the callouses that were starting to form on his palm, most likely from lifting weights.

he allowed you to fiddle with his hands, he found solace in your touch. his eyes closing for the first time tonight.

“you’ll do great in america. you’ll find new friends and new company to keep you busy. who knows, you might even find someone you’re interested in.”

immediately, his eyes flew open, his head turning to face you. haven’t you realized that it was you he was interested in. it was you that won his heart years ago.

“wha—“ you said from his sudden turn, wondering if you said something wrong, but he interrupted you before you could finish.

“i don’t want to do that. i don’t want to find someone i’m ‘interested’ in. it’d be useless anyway.” he murmured the last part.

now your ears piqued at his comment.

“what do you mean it’d be useless?”

he paused. “i’d be searching for you in every girl i’d meet.” iwaizumi declared. “that’s why i’m here, y/n. it crushes my soul that i’m leaving you behind. i want you by my side, i feel empty whenever you’re not.”

you could’ve sworn that you heard a sniffle emit from the male beside you, but you knew not to comment on it, or he’d probably end the conversation right there.

you cupped his cheek with your hand, a half smile forming on your face. only you were able to see this side from him; the affectionate, tender side that no one else have been able to witnessed.

“it breaks my heart you’re leaving me too. but i know you’re destined for great things. but i know you’ll be able to visit and i’ll always be a call away. it hurts me knowing my two soulmates are moving thousands of miles away. but i can’t be selfish, haji. it’s not about me.” you protected your feelings, because you knew if it turned into more, the morning would be too much of a heartbreak.

iwaizumi shook his head. “but i want you to be,” he pleaded. “i don’t want to get on that plane tomorrow morning with regret because i didn’t have enough courage.”

“courage for what?” it was a stupid question. you knew what he meant, but you were so nervous.

“to tell you i love you.” his eyes searched you for any discomfort, the words almost causing him to have a heart attack. iwaizumi knew he was bad with feelings, especially with how he dawned this proposal onto you a night before he leaves for another country.

but if he didn’t tell you now, he wasn’t sure if he would even board the plane tomorrow morning.

disregarding your feelings before, you leaned into his touch, your nose touching his. you could feel his breath hitch, the warmth of him radiating onto you. your free hand cupped the other side of his cheek as you pressed your lips onto his. years of emotions spilled from the delicate kiss you shared, like a river overflowing its bank.

and you two laid there, peppering slow kisses on each other’s faces, wiping the tears that slipped from both of your eyes.

iwaizumi knew more than before that he was so terribly smitten with you, but he wished that his final hours with you weren’t ticking away with a plane ticket to america with his name on it.

—

ahhh there’s nothing like a man who’s bad at expressing feelings till the last minute🤌🏽

[arlestial]

hi, could i please request nagi, isagi, bachira and chigiri when they forgot a date and accidentally stood up their s/o?

❝Break me like a promise❞

synopsis : Life is sometimes difficult, keeping them busy and away from you; until it turned to take you away from them.

pairing : Nagi Seishiro, Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : angst

word count : 2000 words

author-note : Hi !! As I said before, I’ve never been aware of my requests in my ask-box so here I am writing them 1 year after they’ve been given 💀 Sorry for the long wait, hope you still like it :) Took me a lot of time to write for my food wars ask so writing for this one was not my priority at first 😭 If you want a part 2, I’ll gladly do it 🫶🏻 I’ll do Chigiri in another post !! take care of yourself ♡

ISAGI YOICHI was, once again, lost in his thoughts. Soccer was keeping him busier than he’d like admit, sometimes leading to ghosting you for one day or two - but it was rare, fortunately for you. He was the sweetest, really. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, calling you at random hours in the night “just to hear your voice”, murmuring sweet nothings with this tired, hoarse, yet, mesmerizing voice of his. And then, no news for 4 or 5 days, if you were lucky enough. Sometimes, you felt like you were too clingy, too lovey-dovey, but he immediately was shushing your words by peppered kisses on your face, between giggles and intertwined fingers. And then, no news for 5 or 7 days, if you were lucky enough. This has been going on for months, and you were slowly - and painfully - becoming tired of it. You decided to confront him, puzzled by his sudden change of behavior. Was it Blue Lock ? Or you ? Why was he so distant ? One night, you took your phone and called him, concerned, fidgeting with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you last time he came home.

“Honey ? Hi. What’s up ?”

“Hi, Yoichi. You busy ?”

“’Need to sleep soon, we have a big training tomorrow. Why ?”

“Am I a burden to you, Yoichi ?”

Isagi frowned on the other side of the phone, looking at the screen, as if he was checking he was calling the right person.

“Wait what- you’re speaking nonsense, are you okay ?”

“I am. Do you still love me ?”

“Obviously. Why are you asking me this ? Did I do something bad ?” His voice broke a little, your heart tightening slightly.

“Yeah- I mean, no. It’s complicated. I feel like you’re avoiding me all the time. You’re here, and right after a call or a text, you’re disappearing, ghosting me afterwards. I legitimately don’t understand. Is it my fault ?”

“N-No, not at all ! Blue lock is just keeping me busy, love. You don’t need to worry.”

You don’t need to worry. You never have to worry with Isagi by your side. However, the time, you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach. This weird sensation caused you to keep your mouth shut; and it was visibly concerning to the raven-haired boy.

“Love ? You’re still here ?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little bit tired, that’s all. You don’t have to worry about me,”, you nervously chuckled, before murmuring a small “love you” like you always did before ending a call with your lover.

After some time overthinking your entire relationship, you decided to talk to him face to face; meaning you had to head out directly to Blue Lock buildings. The following morning, you woke-up rather early, rushing your usual routine to take a random bus, supposed to drive you to the famous quarters.

You felt the knot in your lower stomach again; sweetly palms grabbing your tote bag to keep it from falling, opening the doors of the building. You gulped as you made your way to the receptionist, asking her if you could see your boyfriend just for some minutes. She refused several times, visibly quite annoyed by your presence. After endless pleas, a woman with sort of chocolate-brown hair appeared, scolding the receptionist for “the lack of respect she showed”. She apologized and introduced herself, Anri Teieri, Jinpachi Ego’s assistant, co-director of the Blue Lock project, as she walked in the large corridors, gesturing you to follow her.

So, you did, eager to see your boyfriend, your steps and Anri's echoing on the bare walls. You finally arrived to the dorms, and Anri knocked on the door, making sure nobody was changing or something. When she was assured that the room was safe, she flashed you a smile and opened the door for you to enter. You immediatly spotted a surprised Isagi, turning his head to look at the person who entered their shared dorm. When you two made eye-contact, a huge smile appeared on his features, and he ran to you, engulfing your form with his strong arms.

"Y/N ?? Gosh, I'm so relieved to see you. I missed you so much." Several shared kisses later, Isagi promised to take you on a date the following day, saying he had Ego's permission to take a break from training. So, as he said, you waited in the restaurant he booked the day prior. Anxiety was beginning to fill your mind as you desperately stared at the front doors, hoping with your entire-being for your boyfriend to show-up. But he never did. After one hour and four pity glances from the waiters, you left, your heart heavy in your chest.

Little did you know, that Isagi was actually playing a training game against professional players. When his teammates had asked him to join them on the field, he had bit his lower lip, letting his thoughts wander between you and the human yet unreachable figures he always admired. With some sort of "fuck it, I'll deal with the consequences later" curse, he let go of his bag and hurried to the changing rooms, not realizing what decision he had just taken. But it was an occasion he couldn’t miss, right ?

And when you saw him on the screen of your phone, more precisely, with the Blue Lock broadcast channel, in his blue jersey, tossing the ball to Nagi, the knot in your stomach disapperead.

Giving way to a boiling anger. And a message on his phone, lying on the bench of the field,

10:49p.m. | y/n ♡ : guess you made your choice then.

NAGI SEISHIRO was a bit lazy. It was his personality; you loved him that way, and you weren’t going to plead him to change his lack of motivation for you. But when he refused again to go on a date with you, you had just enough. And sighing was not an option. Your arguments with him were quite rare, because Nagi always found a way to shut you up and apologize sincerely. But this time, it felt like he genuinely wasn’t understanding your point. For the nth time that night, you growled in frustration, your face in your hands. Nagi was lying on the bed, not even bothering to turn off his phone when you were talking to him. He kept humming quiet “mmh”, “yeah”, too busy with his new phone game to actually listen to you.

“Nagi, please ! I’m sick of it,”, you cursed under your breath, fists clenching in order to keep your boiling anger to yourself. You didn’t want to lash everything on him right now. “Can’t you just look at me when I’m talking to you ?”

He frowned; hearing his last name instead of the usual petname for him seemed to get him out of his thoughts.

“What ? I’m listening.”

“You’re not. You’re never listening. That’s the problem with you.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. You crossed your arms, lifting an eyebrow, clearly not amused by his nonchalant attitude.

“Really now ? Hey, come here. I don’t know why you’re so annoying, I guess it was a long day fo-”

“The hell ?? I’m not- you are the fucking issue here, Nagi. You’re always refusing everything.. I can understand that you’d rather stay at home but at least, can you grant me some quality time ? Grant us some quality time ?”, you sharply said, trying to keep your tone as calm as possible, rubbing your temples. He turned off his phone, giving you a hard glare.

“You knew I wasn’t the romantic type of guy when you decided to date me. You did anyway, so why are you complaining ?”

“Because I don’t want to be constantly the second choice, for fucks sake ! I can deal with your hobbies, with your passions and all. I’m just asking for one moment with you without your phone, or your stupid videogames, or-”

“Okay okay, quit it, I get it. I’m sorry, baby.”, he slowly approached you, gently stroking your cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, ‘right ?”

With that, you both fell asleep cuddling. The next morning, you woke up to a cold bed; Seishiro must’ve left early in the morning with Reo to train, you thought. You stretched, used to his absence. But you were glad that he had promised you a date tonight, telling you to wait for him at home. So the day goes by, doing your own activites, a smile on your face as you wandered about what you were going to do with your boyfriend later.

But your smile quickly vanished when you saw Reo’s story on Instagram. Angry tears covering your eyes as you threw your phone on the mattress. You were sending texts to Nagi for 20 minutes now, asking him when was he going to arrive. And you discovered - much to your dismay - that he was hanging out with his Blue Lock friends, sat on a couch of what seemed to be an arcade. Apparently, he was going to enjoy a long night with his friends, considering the story caption, “stayin up all night w homies”.

4 or 5 hours later, Nagi entered your shared appartement with a yawn. He called for you through the kitchen, frowning when he noticed you weren’t answering. He quickly went to the bedroom, searching you everywhere.

And suddenly, it triggered something in him; he forgot. He forgot about you. Again.

BACHIRA MEGURU was clueless. Clumsy. It was the main issue in the relationship; sometimes, he’d act before thinking, or say things he’d regret some time later. It’d lead to arguments, sobs, quivering lips and broken sorry’s, foreheads against each other. As much as Bachira loved you, he was still the bubbly man who often forgot things. Usually, you’d have laughed, his brows furrowed until you gave him his wallet, now smiling and kissing your cheek with a thank you. It was funny, earning a chuckle from you here and there, right ? Until you were the forgotten thing waiting for him. You felt useless, insecurities eating you alive as you cursed them constantly. Looking at the calendar, a red line encircling a somewhat random date, your couple’s anniversary. Well, not so random. You prayed, over and over again, that he would remember about it. Bachira was hard to read when it came to inner feelings : you tried to drop some hints, hoping he’d reciprocate them in a kind of way.

3:21p.m. | y/n ♡ : hi, meg :) ready for tomorrow ?

- read at 3:24p.m.

3:25p.m. | meguru ♡ : hi !! for tomorrow ? wdym ?

- read at 3:26p.m.

3:28p.m. | y/n ♡ : uh

well that’s awkward

Nevermind

- read at 3:29p.m.

3:30p.m. | meguru ♡ : no wait ! Sorry, did I forgot something ?

sunshine I’m sorry :( was it important ?

Your stomach churned at the question. You bit your lip, taking a long breath.

- read at 3:33p.m.

3:34p.m. | y/n ♡ : no it wasn’t don’t worry

just an hair appointment :)

- read at 3:35p.m.

3:36p.m. | meguru ♡ : don’t forget to show me then !! I have a surprise for you too !! &lt;3

- read and liked at 3:39p.m. by y/n ♡

You felt your mood lighting up. He remembered ? Maybe he faked it from the beginning ? You smiled to yourself, now completely delusional; your brain was fully aware of it, but your heart kept hoping naively.

So when he showed up at your door the following day, you dressed up in your favorite clothes, ready to spend a day out with him. He greeted you with a hug, tilting his head to the side when he caressed your hair.

“You changed the color ?”, he questioned, perplexed.

“I canceled.”, you lied, a little too easily for your own taste, “It’d have been a waste of time, we have a lot of things today.”

“Not really, tho. It’s just a regular day, after all ! Isagi told me about a new restaurant he wanted to eat into. Want to join us ?”

“You.. Meguru, you don’t remember ?”

“About what ?”

He hummed; a smile displayed on his face . Yours quickly fade, your heart clenching. Oh. The pain was still here, even though you knew it from the very first start.

“Our anniversary. You don’t remember about our anniversary. Again.”

His smile faded at your words, faded at the sight of your wet cheeks. His mouth opened, trying to form words to express his sudden turmoil. You walked back inside your house, closing the door on a distraught Bachira. He tried to apologize. He really tried. He spammed your phone in calls, drowning you with apologies texts, but could you forget again his clumsiness ? Love is keeping a promise no matter what; and he broke it too many times for you to stay at his side.