#i would get into detail but it's long and even i have no idea why what they said touched me so deepy. i cried man

[paper-mario-wiki]

I feel like I've ended up in the same spot as so transmasc before me: I have a lovely cis boyfriend who loves my tits which I love for him, but I am getting dysphoric to the point I wanna lift my lips and show a lil teeth when I see his hands coming towards them. Feels bad because they are his favorite and we haven't been fucking as much because as soon as he starts touching me I am out of it™ and get all in my head and freeze up. Any advice?

good god, brother. i am utterly baffled at why you have elected me as the strategist for this problem, and i'm even more confused as to why you have chosen to go into as much detail as you have.

but.

if i were to give you some advice on this

i'd say that you should consider a conversation with your partner about the long-term plan for the relationship. a "relationship" is two lives that are connected, right? and your life is not one where you're gonna have boobs for the rest of it (or at least based on what you've told me i would assume, should you have your way, those bad boys are gettin lopped off at some point), therefore it's pertinent that it be brought up, because it concerns your life, therefore it concerns the relationship, therefore it concerns him, yes?

now, the first and most obvious thing to start with out the gate is the boundary, made clear and concise: the hills are now closed, off limits to tourists. all discussions regarding this come next. make it clear that it's about something quite core to your identity, and something that does in fact cause physical pain (a panic response from the nervous system is pain homie).

this brings some followup questions (and remember, this isn't an interrogation, it's a dialogue to share): how does he feel about this? if he's against, why? for that matter, how much does it bother him? is there something he doesn't understand about your discomfort? is there some concern he has about your financial or bodily well-being with regards to the procedure? is it because it's vital to his attraction to you as a partner? if that's the case, would their removal be a deal-breaker?

now keep in mind, these question can be brought up whether or not you've got immediate plans to engage in the aforementioned lopping-off of your aforementioned Bad Boys, because the actual point of this dialectical exercise is to create a simple, easy to navigate, easy to understand conversation, which will set a foundation for further negotiations-- should you learn something new about each other, or yourselves, or the relationship as a whole.

either way, i do not think that letting it keep happening and keeping it to yourself is a good idea. i can understand feeling guilty about withholding some physical and emotional gratification you could give "easily" to this person you care dearly for, but trust me when i say that it's not the way to let it be. not just because it's unfair to your partner to secretly grow to resent them for a reason you don't want to vocalize, but to yourself as well.

you may not know it, but by keeping it to yourself you're slowly building up a resentment. that frustration actually shows up pretty clearly in your message. and even if what you're frustrated about is only that particular activity, that activity is irrevocably tied to another person. specifically, a person that you consider to be a pretty central pillar in your life. if that resentment grows, it can evolve into anger, hatred, fear, paranoia, and all sorts of nasty things. and even aside from the emotional and psychological damage that can do, it can grow into a physiological issue, where your brain wears out more and more due to the growing emotional distress ripping through your neurons with all sorts of "emergency" chemicals. like i said, the panic response is a physical pain, even if your body doesn't feel like it "hurts".

so. to summarize.

ABSOLUTELY bring it up. if you don't, it could become damaging to your relationship, and also your actual real life physical brain.

when you do bring it up, remember that the goals are to set a boundary, and to reach an understanding through mutual conversation. it's a dialogue, not a lecture.

when you reach an understanding, figure out if the relationship needs to be renegotiated in some way. that usually means new boundaries, or expectations. or maybe nothing! though surely your boyfriend can find more things to love about you.

that's as best as i can muster. you don't have to follow it, but hopefully it'll at least give you some ideas you can use.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[kimtaegis]

.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

hell yes my "deniably casual sexual encounter in taylor's apartment babeyyy" wip is over 7k words already and i haven't even gotten to the part where anyone's kissing yet. so far it's all In Effect taylor going "is there like, an energy here or is it just me" (there is) in this 7k< form via my classic move of providing wildly extensive introspection that Could be pared down a ton i'm sure but if i was thorough abt editing myself & my verbosity & taking thousands of words to say something, including the same things repeatedly in slightly different ways, writing anything would be all the more difficult / rarely manifested. playing to my strengths / weaknesses w/fiction out here like, see that last billions fic scene that's Supposed to be largely winston somewhat going in circles stuck in his head and also sexual activity. seizing the premise for this one like, taylor being all I'm Extra Pensive Atm But What If That Sets Me Up To Be More Spontaneous When I Go Back Into The Living Room And Quants Have Something Going On. i've triumphantly managed to get taylor out of the living room in the first place and now their being able to return any minute now as soon as i wrap up their thinking about how their quants are sure like special little guys (extraordinary) (least veil of neutrality; readily positive)

[tvobsessivefanatic]

DP X DC Prompt: Bodyguard!Danny

Danny(aged up) is a bodyguard for Bruce.

With how often Bruce gets kidnapped, it'd be suspicious for him to not finally get a personal Bodyguard to follow him around and protect him, so they finally convinced him in getting one.

But becoming a bodyguard for a Wayne will obviously have a lot of things you have to fill in, they'd do a throughout and detailed background check on you before considering on even putting you in their trials to test your fitness abilities and how you react in certain situations, but Danny is desperate, and well, the contract said they'd provide a place to live, and of course an insane amount of cash, all he had to do was guard this one guy as longs as the contract says. To make a background that's unsuspicious, Danny had to get a little help from Technus, or maybe Tucker to make him an identity fit for the job. He's already been trained by Fright Knight the way of the Knight, so pretending to be a bodyguard won't be that hard.

While the trials are being done, Bruce had to personally be there to see who would fit the role the best, Duke and Tim wanted to tag along out of pure curiosity, so imagine the surprise they had when Duke sensed some strange vibes coming from one of them. So they chose Danny, just because they wanted to keep a close eye on a "potential meta".

I like to think that the Batfamily just easily accepts this random meta as their Dad's bodyguard and just casually chats with him overtime whenever they can, they even probably got comfortable enough to walk around the Manor using their full gear while Danny is still inside.

And just to be a good bodyguard, Danny might or might not sometimes follow Bruce around as Batman while being invisible and intangible just to keep him safe...

I imagine Bruce and Danny's relationship to be platonic, but if you want it to be a ship, that could be good too.

Got this idea in the middle of rewatching YJ, saw Lex Luthor with Mercy, just realized how much trust Lex puts into Mercy. And I wondered, It'd be a cool idea if Bruce just casually has a literal King of the Infinite Realms as his bodyguard, so why not?

[micer2012]

a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism

Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.

My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)

This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)

And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.

And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand. 

In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.

That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with, 

“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”

I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.

I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!). 

Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.

If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading! 

Sincerely, a tumblr user.

[reidmania]

inbetween | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series master list

summary ; after months over talking over email, you and spencer finally meet in person.

warnings ; reader & spencer fall in love over emails, meeting in person, insecure reader, insecure spencer, worries about not being enough, pretty much just pure fluff tbh.

an ; in between yall. this song. this is the first oneshot in the good riddance x spencer reid one shot series!! while i waiting for the poll to finish!!

part one, part two, part three

‘I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring. For more than a couple seconds, oh, I think maybe two. two hearts just fallin' in and out of love for somethin' new. ‘i wish that you could see 'em, their faces lighten up their past is cold and empty, they know it's been enough of waitin' on somebody, someone who doesn't care but he knows her name, she knows he'll always be there’

<>

The email rang up at exactly 5:30, exactly when you expected it to. You were sitting at your desk at work, knees pulled to ur chest as you spun on the desk chair. Your coworkers paid no mind to your antics, after working in the safe office for years, with each other. They were used to it by now.

You chewed at your lip as you refreshed your email when the clock changed to exactly 5:30, a wide smile dawned your face when you read the email, you heart ached with longing as your eyes traced over the words on the screen, your stomach tightening and your heart clenching.

Sent from dr.spencerreid@gmail.com at 5:30pm

Hi.

I don’t know when this will send because I’m writing it while on the jet, probably as we get lower and more towards landing, I’ll spare you the scientific details. We only got back from a case this morning, early. Which is why it has taken me so long to reply. Im sorry.

We got a case in Maryland, which I remember you telling me, is where you live. I know I should probably just ask for your phone number but I kind of enjoy the emailing thing. It’s a lot less nerve racking because I can try to pass it off as professional, even though a lot of the time our conversations aren’t.

I actually don’t think we have ever had a professional conversation. Which is a good thing. I really enjoy our conversations no matter what we are talking about. I really enjoy talking to you.

I hope this isn’t too forward but I wanted to know if theres any chance I could see you while I’m in Maryland for this case. I don’t know when it would be or how long I’d be able to see you for, but I do really want to see you. If thats okay with you.

I guess I should give you my number, so you know I’m not some creepy old man. That would be ironic since I work at the FBI and my job is to stop people like that… I don’t know.

Heres my number, 023387677

Love, Spencer.

Your stomach tightened at the idea of seeing him in person. You never admitted it, but you knew he wasn’t an old man, you knew exactly who he was. You made the decision to google his name 6 months ago, when the two of you first started emailing back and forth after he accidentally sent a work email to the wrong person and you replied. It started as just telling him he had sent it to the wrong person, then he thanked you and apologised and made a joke and then the conversation just flowed.

You had been having conversations with Spencer Reid for six months and you felt like you knew more about him than you did yourself. He told you about his day, and about things he had been through, He opened up to you about his addiction and his mom and you opened up to him about your own trauma and issues.

Spencer Reid was your best friend and you had never met him. You had never even heard his voice. You only had seen his face on google when you searched up ‘Spencer reid FBI’ and a photo came up, he looked younger than you assumed in it, seeing the photo was from a few years ago. You felt slightly bad since you knew he could google you and probably come up empty handed — you had the upper hand.

You look at the clock as it inches closer to six o-clock when you finish work. A boring office job, you often complained to Spencer about. It was ironic since his job literally traumatised him, and yet you complained about the boring desk job, although he never ever compared, he would listen and comfort you after a bad day no matter what, just like you did for him.

You don’t reply to the email he sent as you typed the number he sent into your phone, saving the contact under ‘spence’ The nickname that had developed only weeks into the two of you talking. You send him a text, letting him know it was you, saying hi.

“Phone.” You hear your boss, warning you about using your phone at work, you lift your head an apologetic smile on your face as you close your phone, placing it face down on your desk as you close your email and return to your work after muttering out a sheepish, ‘Sorry!’

Spencer is sitting in a conference room of the police station in Maryland. He didn’t know it but he was only two blocks away from the office you worked. He never usually cared to check his phone while working — nothing could be as important as the case.

Until you, until now.

He found himself hanging out to feel the buzz in his pocket, he found himself checking his phone just in case maybe he missed the message. Just in case you did message.

He also checked his email a lot.

“Whats up with boy wonder?” Derek asked as he spun a chair to sit on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he looked around at the other team members. Spencer focus on anything other than the case.

“He gave mystery girl his number” Emily said, patting Spencers shoulder softly to get his attention as she walked past him, placing a coffee down in front of him. Spencer noticed how it was his normal order — despite the fact lately he had been getting your order, after he found out what it was. It made him feel a little bit closer to you.

“Oo, Okay lover boy.” Derek hummed approvingly, raising his eyebrow slightly as he looked down at the boy. Spencer sighed as he let back in his chair, tossing his phone on the table as he checked to get no message. “Nothing yet?” Emily asked, knowing Spencer had been stressing since he sent the email on the jet, nearly two hours ago.

He didn’t know it hadn’t even delivered until a few minutes ago.

“Shes probably just busy” Spencer muttered as he checked his watch for the time. 5:33pm, you’d be at work.

Derek shared a look with Emily, both with teasing smiles on their faces. They had watched Spencer obsess over the girl for the past 6 months, even after he tried to hide it for the first few. He did a horrid job, they all noticed him smiling at his computer and typing away more often than ever, they noticed his focus slight adverted. It took a bit but they eventually got it out of him when you didn’t email him back for a week and he was going insane with worry that maybe you were ghosting him, or that you were hurt.

He confided in his team, you emailed him a few days later saying your wifi went down and none of your emails were going through. He was instantly relieved.

His phone buzzed on the table, 5:35pm. His hand instantly reached out for his phone. His eyes widened and his lip twitched upwards as he read the message that lit his screen.

“And lover boy is in” Derek whispered to Emily, loud enough that Spencer could hear that only ended up in Spencer sending him a glare, before typing out a reply and sending it, asking to call you tonight when he got finished.

“Alright, We got a lead” Hotch said entering the room.

You leant against the back of your head board, your hair wet and dripping down the back of your neck as you waited nervously for call to ring through your phone. You were almost terrified of what the conversation might hold. You were glad you were calling before you agreed or disagreed to meeting him, you could feel out whether or not it might be awkward or not.

You almost jumped out of your skin as your phone started ringing, anxiety pooled in your stomach as your skin flushed hot, causing the drops of water on the back of your neck feel as if it was burning the skin. You reached out for your phone that rested on your bed side table, answering the call.

“Hi.” You muttered out a breath of air. You couldn’t even help but smile as the realisation dawned on you. You were talking to Spencer. Finally, actually talking to him.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone before some shuffling. “Hold on” He mumbled out, you stomach fluttered at his voice as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you bit back a smile.

“Okay.” You said, you heard some more shuffling before the sound of a door closing, then a creek. And then a breath.

“Hi” He settled on, you sat up a bit, crossing your legs as his word came out almost breathy and nervous. It made your chest thump against your ribcage so much it ached. “Sorry— I should’ve waited till I was in my hotel room to call, I was excited— Sorry” He said.

You could hear the nerves in his voice and all it did was make your cheeks beat a rosy hue. “It’s okay. I was nervous” You admit softly, you try to hide the slight embarrassment in your voice but it fails you as your words come out small.

You hear him chuckle. You think the sound genuinely makes your mind fall empty of any coherent thoughts. “You don’t have to be nervous” He spoke so softly as if his words were an exhale he had been holding in.

“But I am” You muttered.

“Me too.” He said honestly. You found comfort in the fact he cared enough about this interaction to be nervous about it. You went to run your hand through your hair but paused with you felt the coldness — it was still very wet from your shower.

“Good” You sighed out, voice almost a whisper. You didn’t know why you were speaking so quietly, there was no one else in your house. There was no reason to be as quiet as you were.

“Is good that I’m nervous?” Spencer asked, you could hear the teasing in his voice. It made your head spin and the words get caught as you shook your head, before remembering he couldn’t see you.

“Yes- No- no. No.” You muttered out, “Its uh- Its not good that your nervous— I- Its just good that you care” You scrambled out, stuttering over your words as you grew flustered. It made you want to turn into your pillow and scream.

You heard him laugh, making your face screw up. “Shut up.” You muttered out as it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was laughing at you scrambling over your words, your free hand came up to cover your face as your cheeks felt on fire.

“No- Im sorry. Im sorry. Of course I care, you know I care” He said softly as he collected his laughter, his voice dripping honesty for a moment as he spoke genuinely in a way that made your knees feel weak — Thank god you weren’t standing. You were silent for a moment as a smile dawned on your face.

“Tell me about your day.” He requested gently. You heard some more shuffling you could only assume he was getting comfortable in bed. You pictured it and it made your stomach burn with longing. Wishing it wasn’t just an image in your head.

And you did, you told him about your day and he told you about yours; the conversation flowed simply and sweetly from then on. He teased you whenever you stuttered over your words, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

You and him spoke until your voice was quiet and drowsy with sleep, until your eyes were fluttering shut and you went unresponsive for a moment before he asked if you were asleep and you would wake up to the sound of his voice, muttering out a no, to which he would chuckle, and tell you to go to sleep.

When you fell asleep, he waited ten minutes to make sure you were really asleep before hanging up. His heart full as he fell asleep smiling.

Sorry I fell asleep. If i didn’t throw you off completely and you still want to see me, im free any day after 6, when i finish work.

Spencer smiled at the message. The acceptance. You were accepting meeting him, seeing him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of anything you doing ever throwing him off. You had wiggled your way into his chest months ago, and you stayed consuming every part of him everyday since. He didn’t see that changing any day soon, or ever.

He sent you an address to a bar Derek suggested the team going to after work. He didn’t know if maybe it was too forward, or might be awkward with his team there, but at least if it didn’t go well there was people around.

He closed his phone as he waited for your reply, his mind replaying the conversation he had with you last night, how sweet you sounded, how your laugh made his heart clench, how whenever you said his name or spoke a little louder he felt light headed, unable to focus on anything but you.

There was anxiety in his stomach when he realised the two of you never quite talked about what it all meant. What the months of conversation back and forth was. He realised he didn’t know what you wanted. What you expected.

Maybe you just saw him as a friend, maybe to you the conversation is nothing more than friendly. Honestly, if that was the case Spencer didn’t think he would be able to deny you of that. He would do anything to keep you in his life, even if it caused a slight ache in his chest. He had told you things he couldn’t imagine telling anyone else, he trusted you in a way he didn’t know possible, and it may be stupid, maybe naive, but Spencer didn’t care.

The way he felt for you took over any ounce of doubt in his mind, it overtook the insecurity welling in his mind, that maybe you wouldn’t like him, not the way he liked you.

He had never felt so much for a person. He had never felt so much point blank. He could hardly fathom you feeling for him near the amount he felt for you.

Your hands traveled over your jeans softly as your palms grew sweaty as you stepped inside the bar. Thanking the guy you held it open for you as he walked out. You were instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people, the music playing and the people chatting. You probably should have gotten changed first instead of coming straight after work but you were too nervous and didn’t want to give yourself time to dwindle in your insecurities then chicken out.

You manoeuvred your way through the people, quiet apologies leaving your lips as you looked around for Spencer, or anyone who looks like they might be an FBI agent.

What does an FBI agent look like? you thought, as you let out a sigh, finally getting out of the crowd of people as you got to the back of the bar, a lot more free of space. A few people around, standing at tables. You skimmed over for a moment as you tried to catch any glimpse of the boy that you could.

You heard your name, making you spin on your heels. You saw a dark haired girl smiling at you. Well that isn’t spencer.

“Yes?” You said, smiling at her as you tried to hide the anxiety building in your veins. Your hand coming to push hair off your face softly as you try to focus on the girl in front of you. She grins widely, “Spencer is over there, you looked like you were looking for someone…” She said, my smile instantly widened as you looked over to where she nudged her head.

your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes settled on him, the photo didn’t do him justice in any way. His hair was messy and slightly grown out, he was engrossed in a conversation with who you could only assume was Derek Morgan, who Spencer had told you about. His tie was crooked in his suit as he lifted his arm to sip the drink in his hand.

you tear my eyes away as you look at the lady who is smiling at you. “Happy with that?” She asks. It takes you a moment to recognise her as Emily, whom Spencer had also told you about. You can hardly put it into words how your chest feels like its gonna explode as your heart thumps.

“He is gorgeous.” You breathe out, shaking your head as words fail you, your eyes trail back to him for a moment to see him laughing, you see his head turn towards the door, as if he is waiting for you to walk through them.

Emily smiles, patting your shoulder softly, “Cmon Mystery girl” She said, you pay little attention to the nickname as she encourages you to walk towards the table with her. Your legs feel like Jelly with every step that you take, your stomach twisting in the familiar feeling of anxiety.

When she pauses at the table your breath hitches. “Oi Reid” She mutters, both he and Derek turns their head towards her, “Look who I found” She says softly, hand brushing over your shoulder.

Spencers eyes skip over to yours and you watch an emotion pull his features. An emotion you can’t quite place and it makes your stomach ache at the uncertainty, insecurity creeping up the back of your neck.

“Hi” You breathe out as you look at him. Theres a moment of silence before he is pushing away from the table and walking around to you. His arms around you the moment you are in reach and it makes your muscles tense slightly before relaxing completely in his hold as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back.

Emily and Derek watch in amusement for a moment, smiling when they see the look on Spencer’s face. The one you couldn’t place the one they knew all too well.

He was in love.

He was in love before seeing you, he knew that but watching you stand there grinning at him made him all the more sure about it. His hand rested on your waist as he pulled back from the hug to look at your face.

“Hi” He whispered back.

You chewed at your lip at you bit back the wide smile that tried to force its way into your features. His hand traveled up to your face before he could stop it hand cupping your face gently.

You eased, leaning into his touch the warmth of his hand feeling gentle against the soft skin of your cheek. “Y-You- I- Hi.” He stuttered this time.

You grinned, “Cat got your tongue?” You ask, teasing him like he would every-time you stuttered over the phone. He just grins in response.

“No. You’re beautiful” He said, eyes dancing over your face, he looked at you like he was trying to memories every little detail. Your stomach tightens and your knees felt weak as the compliment left his mouth. You had been told that before, but it felt different coming from him. He said it with honesty and sincerity.

“So are you” You said back before hugging him tightly again. He didn’t complain at all, instead his arms fell tightly around your waist as he held you against him, as if he was scared that if he let go you would disappear.

The night went on, you stayed by spencer’s side, his hand on yours or around your shoulder gently as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you being next to him. You never complained — you took it all as a compliment and leant into his touch.

“Are you cold?” Spencer asked as you and him walked outside of the bar, hand in hand. he noticed the way you shivered as the cold hair hit the skin of your bare arms. You turn your head to look up at him, the look in his eye enough to make your chest clench around the fat of your heart.

“A little” You admit. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, but spencer was instantly pulling off his suit jacket for you, slugging it gently over your shoulders as the two of you walked down the street. You paused in your steps as you looked up at him.

“Thank you.” You say.

“Its okay- I don’t want you to be cold” He said softly. You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness, but you shook your head. “For that too— But I meant, for asking to see me. Thank you for thinking of me when you heard about where the case was — for talking to me everyday. Thank you for being my best friend Spence” You said softly as you lean against your car as you and him stop in front of it.

His lip twitches upwards into a smile as his hand drops yours instead resting softly on your lips. “I always think of you.” He admits, eyes on yours.

Your breath gets caught in the back of your throat. “Spencer.” You say softly.

He looks at you, really looks at you. He is seeing you. He is seeing every little thing you have told him over the last six months, every little detail about you there was to know, and all he could think about was he wanted more, he wanted to know you more.

“Yeah?” He says, his voice a whisper.

You feel anxiety pool in your stomach as the question lingers on the tip of your tongue. There was a pull towards him you couldn’t ignore, the same pull you felt when you received his email, six months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago. You’d count the hours but you figured that was more his style.

“You can say no, I want you to know that” You said, you wanted to make it perfectly clear that his response to this was completely up to him and you didn’t want to feel pressured. “Can I kiss you?” You ask.

His lips are on yours before you can even finish the question. One hand of his travelling to the small of your back to bring you in closer while the other tangles in your hair, cradling the back of your neck. Your hands instantly cup his face as you press your lips against him. Your lips together saying more than words ever could.

This, right here, him, right now.

It was everything and more.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 3] Wedding Night

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Mentions of Cannibalism, Smut, Slight Dub-Con, Virginity Loss, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Masturbation, Creampie, Slight Breeding Kink

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You swore that on the day of your wedding, you’d be the happiest woman alive. Being born a mere peasant and in a happy family gave you the option of marrying for love. But things change in the blink of an eye.

Neither of you really have families to do most of the wedding ceremony traditions, which cuts the wedding short. He has no interest in any of it, and you don’t feel any sort of joy while you commit yourself to one another. Perhaps you feel a twinge of satisfaction when you receive the title of Sukuna’s wife. 

If you die today, at least you won’t die as a nobody.

After the ceremony, he sends you away to your room. You’re not allowed to do anything even when you hold the title of his wife, at least not when your whims contradict his wishes. Therefore you’re left to sit in silence in your room, and you have no idea for how long you’ll be left in this state. He’ll visit you at night to get what he wants, and you still have a long way to go.

You’re staring off into space, your mind playing a filthy scene of how this will play out. He’s not going to be patient nor gentle, he definitely isn’t the kind. He’s going to fulfill his task and leave you seeking for pleasure once he’s finished. You aren’t expecting anything else, from what you’ve heard, men are selfish lovers. Though Sukuna isn’t exactly a man, you’re sure it applies to him.

“King Sukuna ordered for lady Kyoko to join you.” Uraume informs you before opening the door and letting the woman walk inside, not waiting for your response. She holds her head high when she walks into the room, wearing similar attirement as you. The servants don’t dare to look you in the eye anymore, the news that you’re the wife of Sukuna has spread, and they won’t dare test your authority.

Yet this woman isn’t scared of looking you in the eye, that’s all you need to know.  You have the authority of telling her to look down, but you have yet to find the voice.

“And who are you supposed to be exactly?” You ask her, wanting the confirmation that she’s been intimate with him before jumping to conclusions. There’s a hint of a smirk on her face, an aura of superiority around her. She sits directly across from you.

“One of King Sukuna’s dearest companions.” She sounds cocky, which gives you every answer that you need to know. “He told me to prepare you for tonight.”

“Right, of course.” You nod, feeling your face get warm. The cockiness goes away, and she gets serious as she begins to speak about Sukuna. She’s been ordered to tell you all you need to know for your first night with him, even though she clearly doesn’t want to speak about this.

You only hear about how to please him. You hear about everything you need to do to satisfy Sukuna, and how to handle two of them. You pick up on the jealousy as she explains everything, and it’s hard to ignore the way she glares at you.

You’re taking in every detail about her. She wears the makeup Sukuna expected you to wear last night: white powder, and red beni on her lips. The same makeup look that Uraume said made you look like a fool. 

“It’s not that hard, anyway.” She finishes. She’s staring you down, her eyes feel like they can burn a hole into you. Her gaze feels cold and nasty. “Though you don’t look like you can handle it.”

“I don’t think so either.” You don’t want to begin bickering and get on anyone’s bad side, even if you’re already her mortal enemy. You can’t lay it on thick. You look down at the ground, as if you were too ashamed to say it, “I’m not sure why he would pick me to carry his heir… Why didn’t Sukuna pick you, his dearest companion?”

“Sukuna? You dare call your king, Sukuna!” She yells, not really caring about anything else that has left your mouth. You dare call Sukuna merely by his name when you’re just a lowly human. “This should get your head rolling on the floor! No one calls King Sukuna simply Sukuna.”

“I understand your confusion… But I’m not just no one, I am his wife.” You correct her, fighting back on smiling as the words leave your lips. “I’m not sure either, we just met yesterday. He arranged a ceremony per my request this morning but it’s all too sudden.”

“His wife.” She scoffs, rising from her seat. A title that you don’t deserve, therefore she won’t acknowledge you as such. She doesn’t say anything else before exiting the room, leaving you to sit in silence once again. You could’ve handled the situation in a different manner, but regardless, you’re satisfied with your course of action.

“You’ll be having dinner with King Sukuna.” Uraume announces before promptly dragging you out of the room and where you’ll dine. You’re met with a long table filled with all kinds of foods, and your stomach growls, a hunger that you didn’t know you had, consuming you. Uraume takes you to the end of the table, the end that’s far away from all the food. “You must wait for him before getting your food.”

“Of course.” You nod in response. Every meal that you’ve been offered so far has been awful, but the food on the table makes your mouth water so perhaps the cooking changes when Sukuna is going to be present. “When will he show up?”

“He should be here soon.” Uraume tells you, before stepping away. The moment they step away, you hear the echo of his loud footsteps as he approaches the dining room.

He walks inside, sitting across from you and not even bothering to spare you a look before digging into the food. He’s taking it all for himself, and you’re too scared to even stretch your hand out. You’re too shy to ask for any food, but thankfully, you’re brought your own separate meal.

Your appetite dies down the moment your eyes look down at it… It’s very different from Sukuna’s. Either different people cooked your food or there was no effort put into yours. You try not to judge the food by its appearance, and take your first bite. You nearly gag when the food touches your tongue, but you try to remain polite and force yourself to chew then swallow.

“Is the food not to your liking? It looks like you’re being forced to swallow shit.” Sukuna speaks up, and you look at your plate in shame. 

“It’s bad.” You answer. He yells for the servants, and within seconds a group is gathered right before him. They’re on their knees, eyes staring at the floor in front of them, not daring to look up at him.

“Remake her food, and make it right this time.” He orders, and they respond in unison. The same response that Sukuna gets every time he speaks: Yes, king. Sukuna glances at you before glancing at the people that kneel before him. “Bring out the person that made the food.”

“What are you going to do to them?” You chime in, but you’re ignored. Your word doesn’t seem to matter when you’re speaking to Sukuna. He knows why you ask, and he doesn’t care enough. You’re bound to see some bloodshed eventually, you better start getting used to it.

“Uraume made the food.” He’s informed, and his opinion changes. He retracts his former statement, simply ordering that someone else makes it to your liking. He dismisses them, and continues to eat his food.

“Does Uraume make your meals?” You ask him, your question falling on deaf ears. It’s a situation where you speak when you’re spoken to, and he didn’t speak to you first.

“Kyoko came running to me, yelling how you disrespected me.” He brings up, and you raise your brows. Suddenly you begin to feel sweaty, nerves consuming you. “What did you exactly say about me?”

“I called you Sukuna instead of formally addressing you.” You confess, and you begin to think over and over again of how to begin your apology. But you know that an apology won’t be well received, so instead of saying anything else you look down at the table in complete and utter shame. “Which should be fine, no? We just got married.”

“It is fine.” He reassures you. “You have the power to be harsh. Don’t embarrass me.”

“Embarass you how?” You question. “Were you listening?”

“Don’t try to get under her skin, words won’t shed blood.” He ignores the question. “If someone dares disrespect you, you must make them pay.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to hurt your dearest companion.” You answer, and he scoffs. It’s clear that she thinks highly of herself when Sukuna couldn’t really care less about her.

“You said it yourself, I picked you instead of her.” He responds. “She’s not so dear to me if I chose a woman I just met over her.”

“Right… I’ll make her pay next time.” You nod your head, but you’re not going to do it. You aren’t going to make anyone shed blood because you aren’t like him. 

You hear your stomach growl as Sukuna continues to eat, and you can’t help but ask, “Can I taste?”

“Of course.” He doesn’t even waste a second before stretching his arm out in your direction, holding a bowl full of food. Before your chopsticks touch the food, Uraume comes into the dining room and speaks up,

“He’s a cannibal.” Which makes you freeze in your spot. You retract your hand, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. It now makes sense why he has a whole separate meal, and why his meal seems so tasty even if it’s made by the same person that cooks your food. It should be a more shocking confession, but you’re not surprised at all.

“Why’d you ruin my fun!” He yells, though he sounds more annoyed than angry. He’s ignored by Uraume, truly the only person who has that power. Instead of listening to him, they put your new plate of food in front of you.

“I’m so sorry the food wasn’t to your liking, my queen.” Uraume bows down before you, and you’re taken back by it. You’re not sure how to respond, it isn’t anything that warrants an apology in your eyes. “I didn’t make the meal, another servant did.”

“Bring them in.” Sukuna orders, and Uraume rises from the ground. They walk away and you’re about to dig into your new meal, but his voice stops you. “Don’t you dare.”

“It looks fine.” You answer. The food actually looks appetizing, and your hunger grows by the second. But he refuses to give you permission, and you won’t dare defy him. “Can I have just a taste? I’m hungry.”

He ignores you, tapping his finger on the table impatiently. Uraume finally walks back inside, dragging the woman that cooked your meal by her kimono.

“It was her.” Uraume speaks, as the woman bows down on the floor, not daring to raise her head. Sukuna lifts her up by the collar, while one of his hands reaches for your food. He forces her mouth open and stuffs her mouth.

“Chew.” He orders, and she’s trembling in fear. She forces herself to chew, too slow for his liking. “Hurry up and swallow.”

Once she swallows the food in her mouth, he tosses her aside and puts the plate right back in front of you. He stares at the woman for a minute before he finally asks, “Do you think that’s good enough for her to eat?”

“Yes, my king.” She almost hesitates, but she knows that hesitating won’t do her any good.

“You may eat.” He directs his attention to you, and you nod in response. You feel nervous for the woman that kneels before you. She’s around your age, probably here for similar reasons as you, and her life hangs by a thread. Even if you hate the food that’s in front of you, you’ll put on a smile and pretend that it’s the best meal you’ve ever eaten.

Luckily, you don’t have to fake anything because the food that touches your tongue is one of the best things that you’ve tasted. You tell him with a mouthful of food, “It’s so good.”

“Then she’ll be your servant.” Sukuna responds before standing up and walking away. Uraume follows, leaving you to look at her in confusion, though she doesn’t dare to lift her head. What exactly does that entail?

“What’s your name?” You ask her.

“Hina.”

“You can lift your head, Hina. I don’t bite. I’m not Sukuna.” You can’t help but chuckle. She slowly lifts her head, and she finally gets a good look at you. Her cheeks slowly get pink as she stares at you, and she averts her gaze. “Please keep me company, I’ve been dying to have a conversation with someone normal.”

You wait in your room the same way you did last night. Uraume got you ready again, changing your attire into something more fresh and with less layers. They realized that putting you in traditional attire is just going to be a waste of time and resources since they doubt that Sukuna will be gentle with the robes.

You feel more comfortable this time around, feeling like you can finally breathe. You’re ready for what awaits tonight. Kyoko wasn’t the nicest woman, but she explained everything well enough. You had an idea of what was waiting for you, but now you exactly know what the night has in store for you.

You hear the sound of his loud footsteps, and you feel your nerves building up. This time around you don’t tremble in fear. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before he gets to you. She told you it’d be quick, and while at first it’s going to be uncomfortable, what’s to come will also leave you craving for more.

He enters the room, eyes immediately glancing down at you. You rise, remembering what she told you: First, you must help him get undressed. But before your hand touches the fabric of his robe, his hand stops you. 

The simple touch awakens something in you. Your hand tries to break free from his grasp, but it won’t move. A new feeling consumes you, and the thought of feeling Sukuna in every sense doesn’t make you tremble– Quite the opposite, you want it. You want everything he has to offer.

You’re looking up at him, studying each and every one of his features. He looks unusual, though that doesn’t mean he looks bad. He’s handsome in his own way, at least more handsome than the many men that you’ve come across with.

“There’s no reason for you to be in a rush.” He tells you. No matter how hard you try to break free from his grasp, he can hold back all of your strength without breaking a sweat. “I’m not running away.”

His hand goes under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He’s smirking at you, knowing he’s about to ruin you. Two hands are trying to take off your robe, which isn’t a hard task but he grows impatient. You’re hearing the fabric rip, realizing that he’s getting straight to the point.

“Can you kiss me?” Your words make him freeze in his spot. It feels pathetic to say but if you don’t ask, he won’t do it. He rolls his eyes before leaning down and pecking your lips, pulling away quickly. He continues to tear down the fabric of your robe, until it’s on the floor. 

He saw you naked yesterday while you bathed, but you still can’t help but feel shy when you’re completely bare in front of him. You don’t have enough hands to cover yourself, and even if you tried, he’d tear them away. There’s no reason for you to feel shy, after all, he isn’t going to inspect your body and look for any flaws it might have. He gets straight to the point.

He lowers his head, lips kissing down your neck to your breasts. His lips feel tender on your skin, a sensation that you would have never imagined to come from Sukuna. A chill runs down your spine as you feel his tongue circle around your nipple. You weren’t warned about it, but you aren’t unhappy either.

You squeeze your legs together, an increasing sensation between them with each of his movements. His warm mouth takes in your nipple, harshly sucking as his hand fondles your other breast. He pinches your other nipple harshly, making a whine escape your lips.

Sukuna bites down before pulling away. He kisses the valley of your breasts before his tongue swipes over your neglected breast. Your mind focuses on how his tongue feels on your skin, that you almost miss one of his hands traveling down your stomach and to your pussy.

A breathy moan leaves your throat, your body getting overwhelmed with what he’s doing. You were expecting a lot tonight, just not this. Two very large fingers spread your folds, and as a reaction, your legs squeeze together. You swear you hear a low chuckle from him before he bites down your nipple once again. This time your whine is much louder.

“I’m going to have fun with you.” He’s amused with this. He nearly drops you to the ground, but luckily he puts his hand under your head before it touches the floor. He gets on his knees while his hands go to your legs, nails digging into your thighs. 

He puts your legs over his shoulders, and you hold your breath, knowing what’s to come. You expect him to take off his robe, and finally do what you’re expecting him to do. You’re clenching around nothing, your excitement radiating through your body. He doesn’t make an effort to get undressed though. 

“No one’s ever touched you here before, right?” He sounds cocky as two fingers run through the folds of your pussy. You bite down your lip before shaking your head, making a smug smile come to his face. He’s proud of it. “No one else will either.”

Sukuna has never been one to care for virginity or purity of any sorts when it comes to sleeping with other people– With you it’s different. He picked you for your innocence, and getting the chance to ruin you in every sense is thrilling for him. Knowing that he’s going to be your first and your last lover fulfills him.

“What–” You begin when he begins to lower his head, though you’re cut off by a breathy moan that leaves your lips as his tongue runs through your pussy. His tongue lays flat on your clit, and you feel your breath get caught up in your chest as an unfamiliar feeling overtakes your whole body.

His tongue flicks your clit, and your back arches, shutting your eyes as pleasure overtakes you. He’s yet to do anything, yet your mind is clouded with sex. Is this what you were worried about? You can’t help but mutter, “That’s so good.”

“Be loud.” He orders, pulling away from your pussy. His fingers take the place of his tongue, lazily circling your clit with little to no pressure. 

“What if someone hears?” You question, and he scoffs. He’s never heard a dumber question.

“What? That you’re my woman?” He responds, and you feel your face get even hotter than it already is. You talk as if Sukuna doesn’t control everything and everyone that resides in the place, he couldn’t care less if they hear what he does. “If it embarrasses you, I’ll kill them.”

“No– Ah!” His mouth goes back down, his warm lips going straight to your clit and sucking on it. You feel as two fingers run through your folds, gathering the slick that your body has produced, before he pushes his middle finger into you. 

It’s an uncomfortable new feeling, even if his whole finger isn’t inside of you. He’s kind enough to give you a moment before slowly piping his finger in and out of you. His head rises from between your legs and he tells you, “Relax.”

“Can you put your mouth there again?” You quickly ask, and just this once, he’ll please you. His tongue messily runs through your pussy before focusing on your clit once again, using the opportunity to push a second finger into your cunt. 

He curves his fingers in a manner that makes a loud moan escape your lips. You can’t hold yourself back when Sukuna worships your body. You were expecting the night to head in a very different direction with your given knowledge, but you couldn’t be more happy to be proven wrong.

“Sukuna!” You moan, as pressure builds up in your lower abdomen. He takes his fingers out of your pussy, leaving them to clench around nothing but within seconds his tongue moves down to your entrance and he pushes it in. You feel his tongue move around, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. 

You look at him through heavy lids, your eyes shutting on their own as pleasure consumes you. He’s too focused on doing his task correctly to actually spare you a glance. You’d say that he’s enjoying this more than you are, but you quickly stop that train of thought. Sukuna isn’t the type to enjoy satisfying others.

Your voice gets caught up in your throat, your body becoming tense and your back arching as you reach the high that you’ve been told about– They always told you that you’d know when it would happen, and you never believed it. It’s an unmistakable feeling.

And just as you come down from that feeling, you realize that you’re getting to the part that you’ve been anticipating.

Your legs come off his shoulders, and Sukuna undoes his robe with such gentleness that your outfit sadly wasn’t met with. You swallow thickly, seeing his full body on display. You don’t consider yourself a greedy woman, but seeing him completely naked makes you want more. 

You need more. 

“Is it going to fit?” You can’t help but ask as your eyes land on the two dicks. One stacked on top of the other. They aren’t exactly small either.

“We’ll make it fit.” He says without thinking twice about it, and your thighs squeeze together. His palm goes to the front of your face and tells you, “Spit on it.”

You don’t have to be told twice before spitting on his hand. He uses your spit to coat his cocks before grabbing your legs, and wrapping them around his waist. Even when you see what awaits you, your desire and hunger for him grows. 

He takes his bottom cock into his hand, stroking it a couple of times before running it through your folds. You watch him bite down his lip as he slowly pushes himself inside of you. A whine leaves your lips, feeling uncomfortable as his cock stretches you out.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He says, waiting a second before he begins to thrust in and out of you. His eyes are nearly rolling to the back of his head, feeling too good as he feels you around him for the first time. He manages to remain stoic, as if this isn’t one of the best sensations that his body has felt in ages.

She was right, it is weird your first time, especially with how big Sukuna is. You’re too focused on this new feeling to allow yourself to feel any pleasure. But you’re sure of one thing, you’ll definitely be wanting more. With the way he’s made your body feel, you’ll definitely be begging him for more.

You watch as one of his hands begins to stroke the top dick, fulfilling his needs since he can’t expect much from you tonight.

“Sukuna…” You mutter, and you hear him groan as you say his name. You know he likes it.

“Say it again.” Sukuna is getting off at you saying his name. You feel a pair of fingers toying with your clit, and you feel that sensation once again. Your back arches, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as it consumes you.

“Fuck!” You loudly moan, instead of saying his name per his request. While he’s strict about people following his orders, he’ll let it slide this one time. He’s too lost in you to care about anything else.

“I’m going to fill you up with my child.” He tells you as his thrusts speed up. You’re squeezing even more around his cock, your second orgasm building up and washing over you quickly. “You’re going to give me my heir.”

He’s getting a little too rough for you, his thrusts becoming harsher by the second until he finally fills you with his seed. He gets you messy, his top cock making a mess and coating your stomach. He finally pulls out, leaving you empty. 

He’s taking deep breaths as he grabs your legs, bending your knees and bringing them to your chest. You’re too overwhelmed to say anything, and you know he isn’t one of many words.

He grabs his robe and puts it on once again, while you remain in the position he put you in. He doesn’t tell you anything until he’s finally dressed, practically out of the door,

“I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

[xxsabitoxx]

Pale Blue [Part One]

Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader

READ PART TWO HERE

Warnings: THIS FIC IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you are not caught up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga, or at the very least if you have not seen "gojo's past" you WILL be spoiled. This story contains darker themes, heavier topics, pregnancy and all the lovely details of it, and lastly explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk!

A/N: Here it is!! Part One!! This fic is super self indulgent for me and I'm very excited for y'all to read it. The idea literally came to me in a dream like a month ago and I woke up and immediately started writing. It's been a long ass time since I've written a plot heavy fic, and it's been well over a year since I've actively planned a multiple part story and gone through with it. So, this fic is kinda like... my baby lol.

Word Count: 19k | Playlist

September 2007

Your mouth felt like chalk, hands trembling ever so slightly as you set the small wand on the countertop in your bathroom. You couldn't think straight, but that unfortunately wasn’t anything new, it had been that way for the last three weeks. Ever since he left, you had felt like your head was stuck in a fishbowl. People eyeing you with pity at the world you had been dropped into, their whispers muffled into incoherent nonsense as you walked by. Satoru was no better off, but he could at least tug his emotions off of his sleeves and place them in his heart where nobody could see them, except for you. At least you would be able to see them if he didn’t shut you out. 

Not that you had been any kinder, you had withdrawn too. 

The only one who seemed alright was Shoko, her reaction to Suguru’s deflection was nothing out of character. Not many things could shock her to her core, even something as absurd as what Suguru had done couldn’t wipe the gentle smile from her face when she saw him again. You envied her for that level of composure. You envied her for getting to see him again, just as you envied Satoru. For some reason, the man evaded you as if you were the plague. Or perhaps it looked like you were merely chasing after a ghost, a figment of your imagination. You kind of wished that it was true, that Geto Suguru had been someone you conjured up in your mind. 

But he wasn’t, he was a real, breathing human who had taken over one hundred lives…. Including his parents. The thought made your mouth taste like metal, everytime you zoned out too long and thought too hard, you’d bite your inner cheek until it bled. Three weeks later you still felt like you were moving on autopilot, the only thing that could pull you out of it would be his gentle embrace. You blinked a bit, the metallic taste coating your tongue as you unclench your jaw and look in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, for a moment  you think you look just like him, and it's enough to steal the little air you had in your lungs. 

You had never thought you'd experience a heartbreak as severe as this one, and you especially didn’t think it would be dealt to you by Suguru. Though you saw all of the signs, the hundreds if not thousands he put out and never let you touch. No, his cries for help were always directed at Satoru. The white haired man never seemed to catch them, and if he did, he never said a thing. Suguru had refused to acknowledge his issues when he was with you, no matter how many times you tried to sit him down and get it out. He’d change the subject and move on. 

He’d sweet-talk you, making you forget why you had been so concerned in the first place because there, for a fleeting moment, was the boy you had fallen in love with two years prior. He’d fill your mind with nothing but good things, pretty noises, good feelings. Not stopping until his name was all you could utter, not stopping until you fell asleep in his arms, content and sedated. He was a master at avoidance, trying so hard to keep things perfect just for you. You were beginning to hate him for it, but even the idea of hating him made bile burn your throat. 

You were left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through your mind, it was never truly directed at Suguru. Rather the jujutsu world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel. You especially felt that bubbling hate for a certain man by the name of Fushiguro Toji, who caused this whole spiral. He was long gone now, Satoru had effectively put the man down and he would not be getting back up. Though it killed you to no end that he got the easy way out. You almost wished that Satoru had kept the man alive. 

You couldn’t stomach it as your back pressed into the cold wall of your bathroom, arms folded over your chest as you stared at nothing in particular. Eyes refusing to focus on anything of importance but making a point to avoid the developing test on the counter. 

Suguru had left you a note, shortly after his final conversation with Satoru. You had returned to your dorm to see it on your bed and you recognized his handwriting before you even read your name on the envelope. You could still feel your hands trembling as you ripped the paper, flinching as it cut your skin, crumbling as tears dripped down your cheeks. You read it three times before finally comprehending the words, the paper littered with tear drops and your blood. Every word was written with care, you could hear his voice as your eyes passed over each sentence, see his face before you as if he was speaking. 

It was an apology, his resolve and a goodbye all in one. Leaving you more empty than you had felt before. Still, it sat on your nightstand, you couldn’t throw it away. As if his sweaters weren’t still hanging in your closet, like the blanket he got you wasn’t still sitting on your bed. You held onto that letter like it was the last thing you had of him. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing and walking around within the very city you were in now. You almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least you’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a form of torture for you. 

To know that you could bump into him at a restaurant, or even pass him on a busy street. He wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and everyone else behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Still, you couldn’t hate him for that. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of your broken heart. You were fairly certain nothing would, the only cure was the one man you could no longer call your own. You’d spend the rest of your life with your heart ripped wide, an empty void filling the space. 

You inhaled deeply, pushing off the bathroom wall and taking a hesitant step towards the counter. The test was upside down, you couldn’t see the small little window that would show you the results, for a moment you wanted to pick it up and throw it in the trash without even looking. There was nothing stopping you from doing so either, but you held back anyways. The only reason you were taking a pregnancy test in the first place was because your period was two weeks late. You could easily chalk it up to stress, but at the same time you knew all too well that you and Suguru often went without protection. Idiot. 

Somehow, despite his inner battles, Suguru’s sex drive never slowed down. Maybe it was the craving for physical touch or maybe sex was a great way for him to forget about his issues for a while. Regardless, you had always been eager to oblige, even if it meant falling into his traps and luring your attention away from the real issue at hand. You had no idea how long it had been and if the damn thing was positive you were sure it would show up by now. So you picked it up and flipped it over in your hand, tired eyes scanning it. Your forehead creased for a moment, eyes squinting in frustration because you couldn’t tell if there was a second line or not. 

If it’s positive, it's too early to tell. Your grip tightens around the small plastic test, anger flooding your heart as you chuck it in the trash can with such force it rattles as it hits the wall. Once again you are left with uncertainty. It seemed nobody could give you a straight answer anymore. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted that test to say. The thought of being pregnant with his child would have elated you two months ago. Now the thought made your insides twist and turn, for a moment you thought you were going to puke again. At the very same time, the idea of the test being negative felt like a rug being pulled out from under you. 

As if you didn’t know that feeling well enough. 

In a twisted way, you thought that being pregnant would bring him back to you. As if it would erase every heinous crime he had committed and bring the man you loved back into your arms. You were foolish, but not foolish enough to really believe in those daydreams. You hauled yourself out of your bathroom and back into your dorm room, falling into your disheveled bed with a soft thump. His t-shirt was hanging loosely on your body, it still smells faintly of him. It’s the only shirt of his that you’d been wearing, too afraid to lose his scent on the others. 

It was still early enough for you to sleep for a few more hours before Shoko was knocking on your door and hauling you into the world. You hated it, but she assured you that you’d thank her for it in a couple months. You doubted it, and for some reason you felt like she did too. 

Your sleep was dreamless, it had been since Suguru left you. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for that or not. Suguru was still the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. His absence consumed your every thought, impossible to ignore, unable to forget. There had been a few tough nights where you dragged yourself down the hall towards Satoru’s room. The man was usually still up, sitting on his bed with a book in hand that you could tell he wasn’t reading. Just an attempt at distraction. 

He welcomes you without a word, scooting over a bit so you could sit beside him, head on his shoulder as he tosses the book to the floor. You remain like that until you fall asleep, no words spoken but nothing needed to be verbalized to understand you were both mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t even dead. In an odd way, you felt as if you were mourning Satoru as well. His smile, his jokes, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, all of those things had dwindled. To his credit, he was managing to pull himself back together, at least better than you had been. 

A harsh knock at your door signaled that Shoko was there. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep, but you felt even more groggy than you had a couple hours prior. “I’m up.” It’s hoarse and unconvincing but you hear Shoko utter a small “ok”. You know she’s still there, she always waits for you to get dressed and emerge from your room yourself. If you make her wait any longer than fifteen minutes she's usually barging in herself to pull you from your bed. Your body aches as you sit up, stumbling across the room to the bathroom because you need to pee yet again. 

The air almost feels stale as you get your routine done in the bathroom, the test is still sitting in the small can beside your sink. It’s presence is heavy, to the point you question if you should take it out with you despite only having a couple tissues accompanying it. You decided against it when she knocked again. “Just getting dressed.” You mumbled softly, listening for her small “Hmph.” At least letting you know she heard you. Your uniform still felt foreign on your skin, it had for the last three weeks but you tried to ignore it. “About time.” Shoko smiled as you emerged, Satoru beside her. “Oh? You’re both here?” Your tone was questioning but not mad. 

“Yeah, Yaga said we should take the day to be normal or something like that.” Satoru drawled, circular glasses sliding down his nose as he rolled his eyes. “Us? Normal?” You snorted, pulling your door shut as Shoko began walking down the hallway. “He just doesn’t know what to do with us at the moment.” Satoru offered in a low tone, Shoko would scold him for speaking like that, especially to you. The thing is, he wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already thought of yourself. “I don’t know what to do with us either.” You could assume Yaga was being vigilant, the guilt of not seeing what was happening with Suguru was weighing on him too. 

The flick of Shoko’s lighter was heard as you stepped into the morning air, laughter bubbling in your chest as you looked at her. “It was killing you, wasn’t it.” Yaga had been cracking down on her bad habit, trying to limit her by saying no smoking in the dorms. “Just a little.” She teased back, inhaling deeply before blowing the gray smoke past her lips. “Shoko, gimme one.” Your eyebrow cocked as Satoru stuck his hand out. Her eyes met you for a moment before begrudgingly handing the lighter and pack to him. “New habit?” You commented softly, watching as he stuck a cylinder between his lips and held his hand up to block the flame from the wind. 

Satoru shrugged, inhaling a bit before blowing out, moving to hand the pack to you. You hesitated, the test in your dorm trash can still lingering in the back of your mind. “I’m good.” You took them anyway, handing them to Shoko. Neither of them said anything but they shared a knowing glance, they couldn’t be mad at you for trying to quit a bad habit. “So where are we going?” You didn’t like the prolonged silence as the two of them puffed away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere, but if you want we can go get breakfast.” Shoko’s eyes flickered over both you and Satoru, as if she was looking at two temperamental children. 

“Breakfast sounds good.” Satoru offered, shoving one hand in his pocket while the other plucked the cig from his lips. “It does.” You added softly, stomach turning at the very thought of food but you couldn’t let them know that. You had lost your appetite shortly after he left, but you still forced yourself to eat at least one substantial meal a day. The nausea that had settled in your gut most days usually deterred you from anything else but plain rice and maybe some soup. Still, it was food and the only thing you could keep down at that. “Alright, I’ll call for a driver and we can go get something to eat.” Shoko pulled out her phone, clicking on a number she saved. 

“You’ve been eating, right?” You jumped a little, eyes sliding over to Satoru. His tone was low, just low enough for only you to hear. “Yeah, I’ve been eating… you?” He looked the same, tall and lean with broad shoulders. Satoru nodded, pushing his glasses up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “The car will be at the gates for us in five minutes so let's get going.” Shoko started walking, like always you and Satoru followed behind her like ducklings. Satoru���s question still lingered in your mind, his ability to read your thoughts nearly rivaled Suguru. 

You had to wonder just how much those six eyes of his could see. 

The three of you clamored into the car, Satoru taking the passenger seat while you and Shoko took the back. You had no idea where you were going, not even when Shoko gave an address to the driver. It was somewhere in the city, you knew that much, but you trusted her judgment and prayed they would have something plain for your stomach. None of you spoke as the car barreled forward, your eyes glued to the surroundings zipping past you, as if you’d catch him walking down the street on a busy morning. You knew you’d always be looking for him, everywhere you went, your eyes would search for him. 

You tore your eyes from the window, glancing at Satoru in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but his head was turned towards the window. If you had to guess, he was doing the very same thing. Looking for someone who would never appear. Unless you were Shoko of course, you still felt your throat tighten at the thought. You knew Suguru had chosen to reveal himself to her for a couple reasons. One being that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to take him down single handedly. The other being her easy going nature, he knew there would be little to no conflict or questions to answer with her. If roles were reversed, you’d do the same. 

“Hello?” You blinked, looking at Shoko with parted lips. “You okay?” her head tilted, brown eyes lingering over your features. “I… yeah.” You swallowed, the car was still moving so you didn’t space out for that long. “What are you in the mood to eat?” She repeated the question she had asked seconds prior while you were clearly on another plane of existence. “Something plain.” You offered lamely, hands clasping together in your lap. “Plain?” Satoru questioned, eyes shifting to look at you through the rearview mirror. “My stomach has been sensitive. Plain foods are all I can really get down right now.” You shrunk into the seat. 

Shoko hummed, eyes observing you intently now. You could almost hear her silently listing all of your physical symptoms, noting in her head the various things that could cause them. Most could be answered with heartbreak, but that didn’t typically make you sensitive to certain foods. Shoko and Satoru knew of Suguru's relationship with you. They knew you were serious about each other, that you often slept in the other’s dorm depending on the day. They knew you went on dates and bought each other gifts. They knew you had long since confessed your love to one another and were not strangers to holding hands when you thought nobody was looking. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you slept together as well. 

~

“Quiet.” You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, struggling to stifle your noises as Suguru’s fingers curled inside of your tight heat. “You don’t want them to hear us, right?” he cooed again, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he pressed you harder into the empty desk, nearly pushing it into the wall of the classroom with the ferocity of his hunger. 

You shook your head, not trusting your voice in that moment to make any coherent sounds. Your nails dug into his bicep, legs splayed hazardously over the sides of the desk as you used your free hand to brace yourself. Two fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly and sucking the air from your lungs as he found that one particular spot. 

Suguru watched in fascination, dark eyes glazed over as they flickered between his hand and your face. Each draw back revealed the slick shine of your arousal on his digits, each push forward was accompanied by a squelch. It made his throat tight, arousal making him feel hot all over as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. 

“Sugu…” You choked, face warming considerably as you realized how desperate you sounded. “Hmm?” a gentle hum, his fingers burying deep and massaging your walls until your thighs twitched. “I need you.” Your head fell back, hand leaving his bicep to slap over your mouth in an attempt to silence the cry that left you. “You…need me?” 

Those words were jarring to him, as if a chain of firecrackers had been ignited under his skin. You nodded, helpless and at his mercy as you prayed Satoru and Shoko wouldn’t wander off to figure out where the two of you had gone. You couldn’t quite comprehend what happened next, the sudden retreat of his fingers left you feeling empty, clearing your foggy mind for a second. 

They were quickly replaced with something else, something wet and soft. Your eyes widened considerably when you looked down to see Suguru on his knees, hands gripping the plush of your thighs with his face buried between. He would have given you more if it weren't for his damn pants, he was too impatient to struggle with the high waisted fashion choices he made. 

You couldn’t think again, mind immediately fogging over as you focused solely on Suguru’s head between your legs. The flat of his tongue licking up your folds before delving further, bumping your clit with his nose and earning a strangled noise from you. You bit down on your fist now, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to silence yourself for a bit. 

Suguru didn’t mind, if anything he wanted them to hear you. He wanted to see the shocked look on Satoru’s face when he realized what was happening. He couldn’t lie, this whole rendezvous had started because of an offhand comment Satoru made. One about how he was likely better at pleasing women than Suguru. You knew that's why you were in here too, you felt like you needed to thank Satoru for pushing Suguru to this point, whether that was his intention or not. 

Heat continued to build in your gut, if you could trust yourself to stay balanced you would have let go of the desk and buried your hand in his hair. You wanted to tug the silky black locks from the confines of the bun he always kept them in, watch them cascade around his handsome face and turn messy because of your fingers. Then again, that may make it a little too obvious to your two awaiting friends. “Sugu…” 

You gasped, hand flying from your mouth to grab the desk as you nearly lost your balance. Suguru had started to stand, knocking you back as his arms wrapped around your lower half in a bear hug. Suguru was standing at his full height now, your knees bent over his shoulders while only your mid-back and shoulders pressed into the desk. You could have melted into a puddle the moment his eyes met yours, his mouth still pressed firmly to your cunt. 

“Suguru…” You choked again, hands moving to grip the sides of the desk for some kind of grounding. You could feel him smirk, eyes burning into yours as his tongue lavished you. It was all too much, too lewd, too risky. Your orgasm was building faster than you anticipated, the tingling arousal shooting down your spine and making your legs tense as he teased you. You came with a choked cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as you rode out your orgasm. 

~

“We’re here.” You blinked, eyes scanning your surroundings as Satoru got out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get the food to go and head back to campus.” Shoko’s words were out of concern but her tone was still relaxed. “I’m alright, I could use some time in a busy space.” You lied, the quiet of your dorm room had never sounded so inviting. “Thank you.” You muttered softly to the driver, his small smile told you he was well aware of what was going on. Satoru was already by the front door of the cafe, putting out the butt of his cigarette on a nearby trash can before dropping it in. Shoko did the same, following after you as you entered. 

Satoru’s looks tended to come in handy, his glasses sliding down his nose to show the startling blue of his eyes was all that was needed to get the three of you a seat and bypass the wait. “At least you’re good for something.” You teased him, watching him roll his eyes before smiling. “It’s my duty to get the two of you quick service and good food, even if I have to whore myself out.” For some reason, that had laughter bubbling in your chest, the genuine kind. “Such a noble sacrifice.” You laughed, the menu in your hand shaking as your shoulders bounced. You were too distracted to see the way Satoru’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he watched you, for a moment it was like nothing had changed.

If it weren't for the gaping, empty space in the booth beside him, he would have been convinced. 

“What are you going to get, Shoko?” She was the only one actively looking over the menu. “I’m not sure yet, but they do have some options that would be easy on your stomach.” You weren’t sure why but it made your heart ache just a bit, she had been more concerned over your meal than her own. At the very same time, it made you feel small, like you were a bit of a nuisance for having stomach issues… or whatever they were… in the first place. “Oh, alright.” You focused on the menu, aware of their eyes on you as you tried to find something small but appealing. You settled on tamagoyaki and asked for it to be made on the salty side rather than sweet. 

Shoko went for a traditional meal as well while Satoru ventured into their “western” cuisine. His choice sounded so sweet that the thought of it made your teeth hurt. “I don’t know how you do it, Satoru.” you sipped your tea slowly, letting the hot liquid slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. He only shrugged, smiling softly “I’ve yet to find something too sweet for me to handle.” Normally he would have added something flirty but he decided against it. Despite knowing you and Suguru were a couple, it never stopped Satoru’s flirtatious comments. It only bothered Suguru a little bit but he knew his best friend would never cross that kind of line. 

“You may go into cardiac arrest before you meet your match, Satoru.” Shoko snorted, sipping her coffee as she took in the surroundings of the busy cafe. For a moment, you wondered if she was doing what you and Satoru had been subconsciously doing for the last three weeks. “I keep waiting for him to appear.” Your tone was just barely above a whisper, as if even bringing up his existence would cause the world to implode around you. “Me too.” Shoko spoke softly, eyes still looking anywhere but the two of you. Satoru kept quiet, face unusually somber as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’ll eventually go insane.” 

You tried to sound lighthearted but the crack in your voice gave the opposite effect. 

Satoru’s eyes flickered up at that, making your shoulders shrink into the booth. You had quickly come to learn that both of your friends were treating you like fragile porcelain. Though you partially felt the same when talking to them, especially Satoru. Despite the frequent and long nights with each other, little to no words were ever spoken. “I’m fine.” You tried, voice a little stronger than before. “We can talk about these things without falling apart.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than them. Before anyone could speak, the waiter was walking over with your food, effectively stopping any further discussion. 

“Satoru…” You choked as the waiter walked away, eyes focused on the sugary, gooey concoction on the plate before him. “That’s your ticket to the ER.” Shoko was gawking at it too, a bite of food already halfway to her mouth. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a kid on christmas morning, glasses sliding down his nose with a smile on his face. Your stomach grumbled as he cut into the pancakes, the feeling making you jump just a bit. You actually felt hungry, mouth watering as you looked down at your own plate and moved to take a bite. 

Silence fell over the table as you all ate, within minutes half of your food was gone and you were quietly wishing you had ordered something a little bigger.

“You need a napkin.” You laughed softly, handing Satoru your spare napkin so he could wipe the syrup off of his cheek. “Thanks.” For some reason you couldn't help but think he looked like a little kid. For another reason you couldn’t quite explain, it made sadness sink into your shoulders. He should be here with the three of you, eating and laughing and bringing you the comfort you always looked for in him. Your hands shook as you moved to eat more, not willing to let the surge of emotion get rid of the appetite you rarely had nowadays. 

As you finished your plate, you felt the bubbling wave of nausea build in your stomach. You inhaled slowly, trying to find a way to ease your worries and keep your food down. “Are you okay? You look a little green.” Shoko eyed you with concern, not even a second later Satoru was signaling the waiter for the check. “Y-yeah… told you my stomach was sensitive. That’s the most I've eaten at once in the last three weeks.” You couldn’t stand the embarrassment of making a scene or wasting money on the food you had just consumed. “I’ll be back.” You slipped out of the booth, your friend’s concerned eyes zeroing in on you as you disappeared for the bathroom. 

Luckily for you the bathroom was empty, the fluorescent lights making you flinch as you stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. You leaned over it, hands and wrists submerged under the running stream, chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. You were desperate to keep the food down, so desperate you could feel sweat forming on your temple as you tried to focus on anything but the nausea. Suguru’s face flashed through your mind and for a moment you were convinced your knees would give out from under you. 

~

“I told you to take it easy.” He huffs softly, fingers running through your hair as he rakes it away from your face. Carefully, he’s looping one of his elastics around your hair to keep it in place. Your head is still buried in the toilet, you had just finished throwing up for the third time in the last hour. “Are you still with me?” His hand is on your back now, rubbing slow but deliberate circles. Feebly you give him a thumbs up, throat burning from the sting of alcohol coming back up. 

“You didn’t eat much today and then you went and got shit-faced with Shoko.” Suguru stated the obvious, trying not to scold you because he knew you weren’t doing good right now. “I don’t think you have anything else to puke up, do you want some water?” You lifted your head now, reaching for toilet paper to wipe your mouth. “Water sounds good.” Your voice was weaker than Suguru had expected it to sound, his heart aching a bit as he sat beside you on the bathroom floor. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just yell if you get scared and I’ll be by your side before you know it.” You nodded, thanking him softly as he got up and disappeared out of your bathroom. You were only seventeen at the time, acting far older than you were and thinking you could get away with it. Now, you are facing the consequences of being naive. Typical for someone your age. Suguru had returned in under two minutes, handing you a glass of room temperature water. “It’ll be easier on your stomach at this temperature.” He chuckled as you grimaced. 

He moved to grab a washcloth from your cabinet, turning the sink water on cold. “And this…” he wrung it out twice before turning off the water “will help focus your attention on something other than the nausea.” He placed the cloth on the back of your neck, watching your shoulders sag in relief as something finally cooled your clammy skin. “Thanks, Sugu.” 

~

“Sugu… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible, tears burning your eyes as you squeezed them shut. Somehow it was working, your pain outshining the nausea as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing in the middle of the restroom. A year had passed since that moment in time, you were only eighteen now and yet you felt as if you had grown a decade. Yet, you were reduced to a scared and crying child because of nausea. Get it together. You forced yourself to straighten, hands slightly numb under the current of cold water. 

You forced yourself to make eye contact with your reflection, observing how stark the dark circles were under your eyes. Shoko had been right, you did look a bit green, but it was fading steadily as everything subsided. You let your hands sit under the water for a minute longer before bending over the sink and splashing some on your face. The door to the restroom opened as you straightened again, Shoko was looking at you with worry. “Did you get sick?” you shook your head, turning the water off and reaching for the paper towels. 

“Managed to fight it off… for now.” 

“Satoru paid already, there is a convenient store a couple shops down. We can get you some nausea meds and a barf bag for the ride back… just in case.” You nodded, smiling a bit. “That would probably be a good idea.” you followed her out of the bathroom and through the restaurant, Satoru was standing on the sidewalk with a new cigarette between his lips. “Damn, you really did develop a new habit.” He only shrugged, inhaling deeply before blowing more out. “I’ll get over it at some point.” Knowing him and his will-power, he probably would. 

“I’ll call for the driver, Satoru take her to the convenient store and I’ll catch up.” Satoru nodded, saluting her with a quick “yes ma’am” before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You didn’t speak until Shoko was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s going to get better?” You appreciated the weight of his hand in yours, though you were certain he could feel how clammy it was. “I think it’ll get more bearable with time.” not better, but tolerable. The thought had your chest feeling heavy as you stepped inside of the small store. 

“Nausea meds and barf bags.” Satoru chuckled, reading the signs above each aisle until he spotted one that seemed like a good start. “You’ll have to see a doctor if this doesn’t ease up… how long has it been going on anyways?” You shuffled behind him, arms crossing due to him letting them go a moment prior. “Shortly after he left, after I found the letter.” Only Satoru knew about the letter that had been left behind. How Suguru managed to get back onto campus and leave it in your dorm was beyond him. You had even let him read it, breaking his heart again. 

“Shoko!” Satoru called, noticing her walk down the aisle before you could even turn your head. “I’m not good with this stuff, what should we get?” Satoru had already grabbed a box of blue cylindrical barf bags for you but the actual meds were basically foreign to him. “I’ll handle it from here, Satoru. You can wait in the car, he should be upfront by now.” Satoru’s brows furrowed, so did yours, but the look in Shoko’s eyes had him shrugging and handing the box to you. “Alright then, I’ll see ya out there.” 

He whistled as he strolled by, your eyes narrowing on Shoko. “What’s this about?” you watched her shuffle through the shelves, picking up one and reading the box before setting it down and moving onto the next. “I don’t know what you mean.” She commented offhandedly, plucking another box and reading it before sighing. “This one should work.” She turned, handing it to you while motioning you to follow her down the aisle. You read it over, nothing out of the ordinary so you truly couldn’t figure out what made this one different from the others. 

You stopped short when Shoko did, eyes scanning the aisle and feeling your stomach drop. “Shoko–” You sighed, she was standing in front of the pregnancy tests. “Listen, I know it’s probably the last thing you want to even think about but I think you should take one.” She was grabbing a box of the cheap tests, the same test that was still residing in the trash can of your bathroom. “Shoko, it's not necessary.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell her you already took one, for some reason you couldn’t tell her it was negative either. 

“I’ll buy them, and you’ll keep them. If this nausea doesn’t subside in like two weeks, I’m forcing you to take them.” You felt your face burning, clutching the nausea meds tightly in your hands as you looked away from her. “Fine.” You sighed, head tilted at her shoes as you followed her up front to the register. Everything was placed neatly in a brown bag so nobody could see the contents. Once in the car, you popped open the barf bags just to keep one ready in the event your nausea returned full force. “I figured you would forget this.” 

You looked up to see Satoru handing you a bottle of water, your lips parting in surprise. “You know me well, Satoru. I did forget.” you took it from him, grabbing the box of nausea meds and ripping them open. You took them and sighed, gulping down water when you realized how thirsty you had been. “If we have nothing else to do today, I think I’ll take a nap.” You were aching for your bed, more tired now than you had been after any missions. “Alright but we’ll wake you up for dinner if we don’t hear from you.” Shoko smiled, cracking the window to light a cig. 

“It’s not even 11am yet.” you snorted. “Yeah but you can sleep like the dead when you really need it, if we don’t wake you, you’ll sleep straight through till tomorrow.” You opened your mouth to deny it, about to use your frequent bathroom breaks as an excuse but stopped yourself. Saying that would only confirm the very thing Shoko was suspicious of. “Alright, fine, whatever.” You resigned with a playful huff, arms crossing as you turned to look out the window. Luckily for you, you managed to make it through the ride without needing to use the bag. 

“I’ll see you later.” You called after them, waving as you headed for the dorms. They both waved back, finding shade under a tree to enjoy more of the sunny morning. You felt your shoulders sagging with each step, your social battery diminished far faster now that Suguru wasn’t always by your side. You had almost grown a bit too dependent on him, thinking he would be a constant in your life. You inhaled shakily, the brown bag crumbling between your fingers as your emotions bubbled to the surface yet again. You couldn't seem to get yourself to your dorm fast enough, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you shoved the key in the lock. 

It came in heavy waves, making you feel weak as you could only succumb to the sadness festering in your chest. You dropped the bag by the door, kicking off your shoes and shouldering off your uniform jacket. Moving on autopilot, you drew your curtains shut and took off the rest of your clothing, sliding his shirt over your head until you were enveloped in his scent. You were gasping for air by the time your body hit the mattress, curling in on yourself as you sobbed. “I miss you.” You hiccuped, rubbing your eyes as if it would stop the tears. 

God dammit, Suguru, why did you have to do this?

You buried your head in your pillow, trying to drown out your own feelings before sadness turned to anger and you ripped your whole room apart because of it. 

~

“Stop wiggling so much.” His voice sounded like gravel, rumbling the back of your head as he spoke. “Can’t help it.” You retorted, trying your best to settle into a comfortable position. Suguru had you wrapped in a bear hug, his favorite form of affection, especially since he knew you couldn’t get out of his grasp. His arms were covered in thick muscles, something you initially didn't expect because his uniform and choice of baggy clothing typically hid them.

 You could use all your strength and his grip wouldn’t falter.  

“Why not?” he mumbled again, if you had to guess, his eyes were closed as he spoke. “Cause it’s warm, Sugu.” you were both laying on top of the covers, little to no clothing on because of the heat and the broken air conditioning that the school was still trying to fix. Nothing but an old fan swiveling side to side to create some sort of relief. Still, Suguru couldn’t sleep unless you were pressed flush to him, warm or not. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Oh it absolutely is.” you immediately countered, turning your head back to try and look at him. “It could be way worse.” he tried again, fingers thrumming against your side. “Yeah, it could, but it could also be better. Like if you let me go for example.” You wiggled a bit, trying to create space before he pulled you tightly to him again. “Nice try, it’s not happening.” You groaned, going limp in his arms as he began to laugh. “I could totally make it worse for you.” He added softly, lips ghosting your ear. Despite the heat, you shivered. 

“The weirdest things turn you on, Sugu.” 

“Hey, it’s not nice to call yourself weird.” 

You slapped his arm, earning another rumble of laughter as he moved to hover over you. “C’mon, if I make you sweat, it’ll make the breeze from the fan feel colder.” You rolled your eyes, studying his features as he looked down at you, hair framing his face and ghosting yours. “That’s counterproductive, you know.” Your hands were running up his biceps anyway, moving to wrap around his neck and pull him close to you. “Maybe it is, but you can’t say I’m wrong.” 

His head was lowering, giving into your pull with no hesitation. “You’re right, I can’t say you’re wrong. But… I want to.” You smile, pulling him further until your lips melt together. He was radiating warmth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip to ask for entrance. Your lips parted, hands snaking up into his hair and tugging at the strands until he groaned. Suguru braced himself on one hand, making the mattress dip just by your head. The rest of his weight was settled on his knees, caging your hips in so you truly couldn’t get away from him. Not that you wanted too now. 

You felt small beneath him, his bare skin radiating warmth as he used his free hand to push your shirt up. You could ignore the heat for the time being, more focused on the steady beating from between your thighs. “Sugu…” You parted with a gasp, watching him lean up and pull you with him, allowing him to drag your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor before pushing you down again. His lips didn’t return to yours, instead they moved to your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you were whining. “Quiet, baby, don’t forget we’re in my room.” 

Satoru was asleep next door, that realization set in like ice water being dumped over your head. “Suguru.” You choked as his head dipped lower, licking along your collarbone before moving to one of your breasts. He wasn’t going to answer you, and you knew that for a fact by the way his lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “You’re evil.” You gasped, hand fisting his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth along your breast, nipping at the soft skin. Your other hand found its home on his shoulder, nails scratching lightly as his muscles flexed under your grasp. 

You sunk your teeth into your cheek when his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, arousal making it pebble slightly as he sucked. Suguru’s tongue lavished your skin, flicking the bud until your back was arching into his touch. It wasn’t nearly enough, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to pry him off and focus on your other breast. “These would look so pretty if they were full of milk.” You choked, eyes wide as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Don’t you think?” You couldn’t breathe for a moment, stunned into silence by his comment. 

“C’mon baby, don’t act so shocked.” He cooed softly, the tip of his tongue trailing up your sternum. He didn’t stop until he reached your lips, kissing them softly before dipping his head again. His hand toyed with the breast he had just teased endlessly, brown eyes observing the rate of your breathing before lowering onto your other breast. He repeated the same motions, nipping and sucking the senstive skin until you were squirming from the wetness between your legs.

“You haven't answered me, sweetheart.”

“B-because I don’t know how to answer that, Sugu.” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you couldn’t form a coherent response for him. “You just have to tell me if you agree, it’s pretty simple.” He chuckled, pushing himself up to look down at you. Your hands fell to your sides, his neck just out of your reach. “Just think about it, pretty girl.” You watched him, completely entranced as he pulled his briefs down and his erection sprang free. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 

“You have?” You sat up a bit, fingers shakily pulling off your own underwear to save time. “I have.” He confirmed, cheeks turning a shade of red that you could see even in the moonlight. His hand slid along his length, spreading the precum drooling from his tip while his boxers rested at his mid-thigh. “Take those off, Sugu.” You smiled a bit, reaching for the waistband and pulling them taut before letting them snap back against his thigh. “So demanding.” He snorted, letting himself go to push the material off, tossing it to the floor just as you had done with your underwear. 

“So are you, demanding an answer for something so…so…” you couldn’t find the right words, not when his eyes were on you, devouring you whole. “…so what? How does it make you feel?” He redirected, pumping himself leisurely as your thighs fell open for him, still supporting yourself on your elbows as you waited. “How does what make me feel?” A stupid question but you were still reeling from the initial statement. Suguru laughed, hand still gliding over his length as he sat on his knees.

“How does it feel knowing I think about getting you pregnant… all the fucking time.” You couldn’t deny the thought made you feel hot, hotter than you felt from the heat and arousal mixing. Like molten lava was running its way through your bloodstream. “F-feels fucking…” you squirmed a bit, legs moving to close involuntarily until his hand shot out and stopped them. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me.” You sat up, glaring at him with warm cheeks. “How about you fuck me. Then, maybe, I’ll tell you how I feel about your little fantasies.” Suguru groaned, head falling forward for a moment. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He moved forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he pulled your thighs towards him. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it harshly as he ran the dull head of his cock between your slick folds. You let him move you however he pleased, your legs being pushed almost painfully to your chest as he pressed into you. You gasped in unison, his cock stretching you open easily despite no prep. “Shit…” his head fell forward again, nearly bumping yours as he bottomed out, no space left between the two of you. 

Suguru stayed in place, eyes shut as he focused on the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, unable to stay still. Your nails dug into his scalp, pulling a groan from his lips as you tried to relax but couldn’t. He was big, bigger than any fling or partner you had in the past. No matter how easily your cunt accepted him, it still stung for the first few seconds. You had grown to love the deep ache, the weight of him inside you, the way his tip would brush your cervix depending on the position. Like now, with your legs pressed so tightly to your body. 

“Can I move?” his voice was soft, eyes peering into your own once he gained his composure. “Y-yeah.” You breathed out, the feeling of his hands on your skin still sent shockwaves of arousal through you. Especially when his grip tightened, bracing himself on you as he drew his hips back half way before rolling into you again. You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as Suguru found his rhythm, hips meeting yours with a soft slap. “D-Don’t forget Satoru is…” You wailed softly, pleasure building quickly as he moved. “I know…” 

But the smirk on his face told you he no longer cared, he’d gladly listen to his white-haired best friend bitch and moan in the morning about being woken up by you. Suguru’s rhythm only sped up, hips angling perfectly to brush along that one particular spot as he thrust into you, cock head brushing your cervix every few thrusts until your vision was blurring. The pleasure ebbing through your body was more than enough to block out how uncomfortable your current position was. 

A wet squelch started to emit between your legs, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the fan as Suguru pounded into you. “So…” he started, voice strained as sweat dripped down his temple. “... can you tell me how it makes you feel now?” You blinked, awestruck that he was still hooked on getting an answer from you. “S-suguru…” you whined, head falling further into the pillows. “I’m not letting it go…ha… Tell me how it makes you feel.” he ground out, hips slowing just a bit. When you didn’t speak, he pressed more of his weight into you so one hand could break free. 

You moaned, loud and unrestrained as his fingers ghosted across your swollen clit, the sudden contact making you see stars. “Tell me how it makes you feel.” he repeated, watching your face go slack as his fingers and hips worked in tandem. “Makes me hot…” You admitted with a heavy breath, eyes struggling to focus on him. “I want you to do it, Sugu… fuck me till I’m pregnant.” The look on his face had you shrinking further into the mattress, an almost animalistic look taking over his eyes as he stopped moving all together. “Say it again.” 

“I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m pregnant, Suguru.”  

~

You woke up in a sweat, gasping for air as you stumbled out of bed and barreled to the bathroom. You couldn’t stop the nausea this time, knees hitting the tile floor with bruising force as you heaved into the toilet. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but your dream was enough to send you into a death spiral. Tears burned your eyes as the little bit of breakfast you hadn’t digested came back up. Luckily for you, you had slept long enough that your food from this morning wasn’t a total loss. Nothing more than bile was left as you finally calmed down. 

You reached for toilet paper, wiping your tears and blowing your nose until you could at least breath without difficulty. Aching, you got up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands and face. You had no idea what time it was but you assumed it wasn’t late enough for dinner if Shoko never came to wake you up. At least that’s what you thought as you stumbled back into your dorm room slightly sweaty. That’s odd… The sun had begun to set just beyond your window, your eyes flickering to your alarm clock. 7:23pm stared back at you in big red numbers. 

I slept for over eight hours? You looked for your phone, seeing the missed text from Shoko. 

Shoko: I decided against waking you up, I figured you could use the sleep. Just text me when you’re awake and I can bring you dinner

You were partially grateful for her decision, your face still warm as your dream lingered in your mind. Dreaming of the past, how cliche. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. You had woken up so suddenly, adrenaline blocking out the sleepiness at first. Now, your body seemed to thrum with a dull ache, the headrush coming back around to kick you while you were down. You reached over to turn on the small lap residing on your nightstand, eyes squinting for a moment as you adjusted. Your eyes focused on the brown bag from earlier, the one you discarded on your floor after coming back. 

You knew there was water in there still, so you got up and grabbed it, looking at the bag contents in disdain. You emptied it on your desk, nausea meds, barf bags and the box of pregnancy tests. You studied then as you gulped down some of the water, easing the burn in your throat. The pregnancy tests Shoko had insisted on were identical to the one you took this morning. Weirdly enough you wished she had grabbed the more expensive digital ones. That way you wouldn't have to strain yourself trying to figure out if a second line was present or not. 

“Fuck it.” you sighed, dropping the now empty water bottle in the small barrel you kept beside your desk. You still had one more test in the box from this morning, you’d take another one just because of the memories lingering on your mind. Your face felt warm as you recalled that particular night from a few months back. Suguru had been pretty adamant after that, fucking you raw and in ernest with every intention of knocking you up. You, stupidly, let him because you love him and loved the idea of having a family with him. “Idiot.” 

You scolded yourself again, ripping the foil wrapper and tossing it in your trash with the now empty box. You went through the same process as you did that morning, peeing into a cup and dipping the absorbent end into it for ten seconds before capping it and discarding the rest of the contents. You forced yourself to leave the bathroom this time, convinced it would make time go by faster. The text Shoko had sent was still left unanswered, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel hungry at that moment in time. 

You’d text her in a little while though, or else she’d likely come breaking your door down thinking you had run away. Just then, your phone vibrated with the ringtone you had set for Satoru. You grabbed it, flipping it open to see what he had to say. On the screen there was a message from him, asking if you wanted to hang out on the rooftop to watch the stars later on. You smiled a bit, it was rare for Satoru to ask things so formally. You clicked out a message, telling him yes and that you could use some fresh air. 

It took him no time at all to send a happy emoticon, one that had you rolling your eyes as you typed back that you’d meet him at his dorm when you were ready. You backed out of the chat, eyes lingering on a particular contact, your message to him was naturally left unanswered. You had given up texting Suguru’s number when the messages no longer got delivered. You figured he’d discard his phone, throw away any direct contact he had with the three of you. You snapped your phone shut a moment later, you’d text Shoko after you got dressed.

Opening your closet was still proving to be a bit difficult, especially as your fingers trailed over the material of the clothing Suguru had kept in your room. They smelt like the laundry detergent he used as well as his cologne, it took your breath away for a moment. You forced yourself away, grabbing some comfortable clothes that were actually yours before shutting the door. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to discard his clothing, despite knowing he wasn’t coming back to you. 

You pulled his shirt over your head, grabbing your own and replacing it. You pulled on a pair of shorts after, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. No amount of sleep seemed to help the dark circles under your eyes or the sickly look to your complexion. You could only hope Satoru was right, with time it would become more manageable. You glanced at your alarm clock, 7:48pm stared back at you now. The sky outside your window had turned indigo, the sun minutes away from being completely out of sight. The summer was coming to an end, filling your chest with melancholy.

You couldn’t stand being alone in that moment, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your pocket as you made a beeline for your door. You made your way down the hall, remembering as you passed Shoko’s dorm that you needed to text her. Stopping in your tracks, you figured it would just be easier to see her in person. “Shoko?” you called, fingers tapping the door softly because she hated when people knocked too loud. “Coming.” You heard her rustling around her room before the door opened, a half smoked cigarette hanging from her lips. 

“Thought Yaga told you no smoking inside.”  

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, and my window is open.” 

You smiled, “I’m hanging out with Satoru on the roof if you wanna join us.” Shoko exhaled, puffing just a bit of smoke in your direction. “I’d love to but I spent the whole afternoon with him ‘cause you were sleeping.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck “my bad.” but Shoko was waving you off. “Don’t apologize, you need sleep… I’ll trust Satoru to feed you if you’re hungry.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes “Alright alright, enjoy the rest of your bad habit and I’ll take Satoru duty.” The look in Shoko’s eyes made your smile falter for just a moment. 

They looked oddly wistful, but it vanished just as quickly as your smile faltered. “Aye aye captain.” Shoko started to shut the door as you turned to leave, watching you go for just a moment before shutting it completely. “Satoru.” You drawled, banging on his door so you could be heard over the music he was playing. “Oi, keep it down!” the door swung open a moment later, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked at you. “Ready to go?” He looked cozy in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, sunglasses resting on top of his head. 

“Sure am.” you returned his smile, the ache in your chest easing just a bit. It was more bearable when you had someone who understood the pain you felt deeper than surface level. You watched him turn, shutting off his music and the lights before stepping into the hallway. “Are we going to take the normal way or are you going to test out your blue?” Satoru’s eyes seemed to sparkle as you suggested he use his curse technique. “If you insist on blue…” You couldn’t even make a sound as his arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you off of your feet. 

In the blink of an eye, you were exposed to the cooling night air. “Damn.” You laughed as he set you down, shuffling over to the small lock box you kept up here with spare blankets and, as Shoko claimed, “necessities”...Which were just two cartons of emergency cigarettes. “Didn’t disorient you, right?” Satoru was standing on the edge, observing the glow of the city in the distance. “Not even a little, you’ve improved a lot, Satoru.” your back was turned to him, so you missed the way his eyes widened slightly, cheeks turning pink. 

“Thanks” 

You turned back to him, blankets in hand. “So…” You walked over to where he was standing, taking a seat just before the edge and letting your legs dangle off. “...So?” Satoru looked down at you, watching you settle. “Why did you want to come up here… I’d love to gaze at the stars but it’s not like we’ll actually see any with all the light pollution.” Satoru sighed, dropping down to squat beside you. “I guess I just wanted your company… ya know since you’re probably the only other person that understands this.” his tone was awkward, it wasn’t often that you were sentimental… or serious for that matter… with each other. 

“Your welcome to have my company any time, Satoru. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.” It was so heartfelt it made you feel strange. “Sorry.” You added, a bit meeker than before when he stiffened a bit. “Don’t be sorry, just not used to being so… serious with you.”  He sat fully now, shoulder brushing yours as a silent invitation for you to rest your head. You did, just as you always had, watching the lights of the city a few miles away. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” You spoke in a gentle tone, hoping he knew what you meant. 

“It is. Knowing he’s there, that he’s okay… while we’re sitting here sulking like idiots.” There was a small bite to his tone as he finished, one that quickly left when he exhaled. “It pisses me off.” It made you upset too, anger bubbling in the back of your mind like a pot of boiling water that was going to overflow at any second. “It pisses me off too, because I truly can’t understand it. I’ve killed myself over the last three weeks trying to understand, to make sense of it. I can’t and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s not my place to reason with it, you know?” 

Satoru was silent, waiting for you to continue. “It’s not my life, it’s his. I tried for months to get it out of him, I tried so goddamn hard to get him to open up and he never did. Always redirecting, always avoiding.” You sounded defeated by the end, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision so you could regain composure. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Satoru questioned softly, letting your words sink in like an anchor. 

“He gave you so many signs, Satoru. If you couldn’t see them, it wasn’t my place to assist.” 

Satoru felt like that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. Mostly because you were right, it had been obvious from the start but he had naively pushed them to the side, pretending it wasn’t true. He was just as much at fault, if anything he was willing to shoulder all of the blame. Because at least you tried. He couldn’t say the same, and he knew that far too well. “Suguru made up his mind the moment he entered that village. There is no stopping a man who is set in their resolve. You said it yourself, Satoru. He looked healthier, happier, content.” 

Satoru took in a shaky breath, leaning into you just as you leaned into him. “I just don’t get why he needed to kill his parents.” Your eyes closed, that was the thought weighing heaviest on your mind. “He needed to prove to himself that he was doing the right thing. That nobody, not even his parents, were an exception to his newfound ideology.” It killed you to say it, especially since you had met his parents last winter break. They were kind, at least his mother was. His father was a bit colder but there was still an undeniable love for his son. They had welcomed you so openly, they were proud of the son they had raised. 

Now they were gone, nobody but Suguru was to blame. 

“In a fucked up way, I don’t care that he killed those people.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, but his letter flashed through your mind and for a moment you understood him. Those two little girls, beaten and caged, scared and facing death for things they never did. Hell, had you gone on the mission with him, you may have encouraged his choices. That realization felt weird as it settled in your gut. “I… I don’t really care either.” Satoru admitted softly, thinking back over the last year, thinking about Amanai. He had been seconds away from doing the same thing. 

But Suguru had been his voice of reason, stopping him with a simple command. It should have been obvious then, that Suguru’s life was completely altered from that moment forward. “It was so obvious.” He hissed softly, head falling forward just a bit as anger squeezed his heart. “There is nothing we can do now, Satoru. Nothing we can do will reverse the damage that has been done.” You wished you could believe your own words, part of you wanted to catch a train into the city and barrel into that religious group he took over. 

You weren’t even sure what you’d do if you did. Hit him, yell at him? Crumple into his arms like the sucker you were. Maybe a mix of all three, no, it would definitely be a mix of all three. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw you again. He made it clear in his letter that he loved you, he still loved you, he would always love you. If you made the choice to leave, would he welcome you in with open arms. Or was he resenting you already for not doing so sooner. Was he waiting for you? Or was it nothing more than sweet-talk. 

“You’re not breathing.” Satoru muttered softly, tilting his head just a bit to look down at you. “Oh…” You inhaled deeply, laughing a bit  as you exhaled “got lost in thought.” You felt Satoru relax again, head resting against yours. “I get it.” You fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the sky steadily turned from a deep blue to pitch black. There, if you squint hard enough, you could make out a couple of sparkling stars. 

You knew if you asked, Satoru could probably whisk you somewhere far away. Somewhere clear so you could actually see the stars with no obstructions. 

Yet you were too comfortable, too warm. 

Sitting where you were now was more than enough for the time being. That feeling of content actually took the air from your lungs for a moment, blinking steadily as you took in your surroundings. There was a fleeting moment where your heart felt light, that aching heaviness that had been plaguing it for the last three weeks wasn’t present. You wondered quietly if Satoru felt it too. Given the way his body seemed completely relaxed into yours, you assumed he did. 

~

You were stumbling down the hall like a drunkard. Your mind felt numb as you moved, head tilted down and expression blank. If anyone were to cross your path at that given moment, they probably would have been unsettled by the sight of you. A zombie moving on autopilot, your brain moving so quickly that it had reduced everything to a quiet, droning buzz. 

Murder. 112 people. His parents too. He’s gone. He snapped. He’s a murderer. Suguru is gone. 

Nothing made sense, not a single bit of the information you had received made any sense. The fact that Suguru wasn’t answering your frequent texts wasn't making sense. The fact that you had woken up to an empty bed wasn’t making sense. The fact that people were telling you Suguru, your Suguru, had taken over a hundred lives in the span of one night wasn’t making any fucking sense. 

Your knees nearly gave out the moment your hand met the wood of your door, pushing it open so quickly it slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming back at you. Not that you cared, at that moment you could be set on fire and you wouldn’t blink an eye. 

You stood in the middle of your dorm room, eyes scanning the room as if it were something foreign. Nothing was making sense, not even your bed looked like your own. It was the pressure cracking down on you already, sinking its claws into your shoulders and forcing you to your knees as the weight of your new reality hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry in that moment, too shell shocked over the report Yaga had read to you and Satoru. 

Satoru. 

You had stumbled away shortly after the report was finished, barely registering the way he had started to yell. You hadn’t looked back, but it wasn’t like either of them tried to stop you. Despite having just stumbled away from him, you found yourself moving to leave and find him again. At least you would have if your knees didn’t give out on you. You gasped, more out of surprise than pain as your legs made contact with the wooden floor. You sat there for a moment, arms feeling equally as weak as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 

You felt your chest tighten, every breath felt strangled as you tried to inhale. A cold sweat seemed to cover your skin, fingers shaking slightly as you pushed your hair from your face. You couldn’t move, completely paralyzed by shock. It felt like your heart was shattering, every shaky inhale deepening the wound. Still, your tears would not come. Not even as black spots began to obstruct your vision, chest heaving as you began to hyperventilate. 

Despite your body vibrating in distress, you felt a nearly silent calm. Like someone had flicked off the switch and stole your ability to hear.

Nothing and everything all at once. 

~

“Hey? Y/N wake up…” You jumped a bit, hand coming up to touch the wetness on your cheeks. “You were crying in your sleep.” Satoru muttered softly, hand smoothing over your hair as he cradled you. “I-I was?” You didn’t even realize the change in position or the change in scenery. You were no longer sitting by the roof’s edge, instead you were sitting in Satoru’s lap, his arms holding you tightly as he looked at you with worry. 

“You were.” he confirmed, letting you go just as you woke up fully. “Sorry for worrying you, I was just thinking about him… it’s so strange. I’ve been having such intense dreams of the past… I've had dreamless sleep for the last three weeks… so why now?” Satoru sighed, watching you get up to stand and stretch your limbs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having odd dreams about him but I don’t really remember how most of them go by the time I wake up.”

“It’s the universe’s way of torturing us… as if we haven’t been tortured enough. Wait, how long have I been asleep?” The temperature had dropped significantly, the moon was shining high in the sky now. “About an hour or so, I was actually going to bring you back inside but you started to cry and… well here we are now.” Satoru got up, stretching dramatically as you sighed. “You’d think after sleeping for eight hours I wouldn't be tired.” 

You walked to the edge of the roof again, feet pressing firmly to the ledge as you looked down. “Being depressed will suck the soul out of you.” For some reason you couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem pretty wide awake, Satoru.” He joined you on the ledge, pushing you a bit to the side. Your training gave you quick reflexes so you didn’t flinch when he did it. “Oh please, you know I’m right.” You glanced at him, laughing softly. 

“You are, but so am I. We can be depressed morons together.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, earning another laugh as you punched his shoulder. “Touche, Gojo” 

“Yuck, never call me that again.” His face had morphed into a scowl as you used his last name. He never liked hearing you call him anything other than Satoru. “Fine.” you crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling the cool air. “I think I’m gonna go shower and maybe make something small for dinner… Just so Shoko doesn’t string the two of us up on a lamppost.” Satoru nodded, watching you step off the ledge and move about the roof to put the blankets away. 

“I’ll accompany you.” he jumped down, trailing behind you as you moved to open the door that would bring you downstairs. “In the shower? I’m flattered but–” the way his eyes rolled were enough to stop you mid-sentence. “Joking, Satoru.” he sighed out an “I know” closing the distance to haul you up. “Using the stairs is boring.” Within the blink of an eye, you were back inside and standing in front of your dorm room. 

“Text me when you’re done showering and we can go get food.” 

You nodded, one of the perks of attending school in Tokyo was the fact that the city never slept. You could go find a place to eat at three in the morning and they’d still serve you hot food. Your body sagged against the door of your dorm after shutting it. Flicking on the lights lit the room in a warm, golden glow. For the last three years you considered your room a sanctuary, it was your happy place after a long day of training. Now, it feels oddly cold. 

You walked over to your dresser, pulling the top drawer open to grab a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas for after. You tossed them on your bed, reaching down for your bottom drawer to grab a particular towel you liked. It didn’t take you long to put your hair up, not in the mood to wash it just yet, and head to the bathroom. You squinted a bit as the nearly white fluorescent lights filled the room, if you had your way you’d change them to something softer. 

It took all of five seconds for your world to come crashing down around you again, eyes zeroing in on the pregnancy test sitting on your counter. I fucking forgot about it…

You set your towel down on the counter, holding your breath as you took the step and reached for the test. You gave yourself no time to prepare, eyes scanning the results once before it hit you like a ton of bricks. You dropped it, letting it clatter on the porcelain counter as a jagged sob ruptured from your chest. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, the other resting on your chest, your heart thumping so wildly you were certain it would burst. 

There, on the test, were two lines. It was positive. 

You nearly fell forward, dropping down to the trash can beside your sink and rummaging through it without hesitation. Your fingers wrapped around the plastic test from this morning, yanking it up and looking at the results again. There, on the initial test from that morning, were two lines. You didn’t drop it this time, eyes staring at the results as if they’d change. Positive, this whole time it had been positive. You just hadn’t let the first test develop long enough. 

“When… How…” You uttered softly, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to be realistic for a second rather than acting so surprised. The irrational side of your brain was still reeling from the revelation. As if Suguru hadn’t been adamant in trying to knock you up for months. “You fucking bastard… you get your way and leave me with the aftermath.” You were struggling, there was no way you’d be able to pinpoint when it happened until you found out how far along you were. For some reason, that was what made reality really set in. 

Hot tears streaked your face, sobbing so harshly that it felt like your lungs would collapse on you. You moved in a blur, legs carrying you out of your dorm and down the hall until you were pushing open Satoru’s door. “Woah there, sounds like someone’s hun…” He looked up, the teasing tone in his voice dropping immediately when he saw the tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” Satoru crossed the room in two long strides, hands cupping your face as your lips wobbled. 

You couldn’t get the words out, crying harder as he ran his hands over you searching for some type of wound. “C’mon, what happened?” His tone had more of a bite to it than he intended but you were causing panic to seep through his veins. You couldn’t breathe, legs nearly buckling under the weight of your reality. Satoru seemed to catch this, hands shooting out to support you as he brought both of you to the floor. “Y/N, please.” he urged you, throat feeling tight. 

You shook your head, still sobbing as you raised your hand meekly, the positive pregnancy test out in the open for him to see. Blue eyes widened significantly when he saw it, he didn’t even need to see the two lines to understand why you were so hysterical. “Oh…oh.” he swallowed, hand shakily taking the test from your hand to look at it. “Oh fuck.” it was just barely above a whisper, arm holding you just a little tighter as you cried into his chest. 

At least part of you was aware of the possibility, Satoru on the other hand felt completely blindsided. “You two didn’t use protection?” He uttered softly, rocking you slightly without thinking as your cries continued, you couldn’t think at that moment, unable to calm yourself down. You managed to shake your head in response, unable to feel embarrassed as you admitted to not using condoms when with Suguru. “Fuck… did you ever use protection with him?” 

He knew the answer, of course he fucking knew the answer. Suguru was utterly obsessed with you, so in love it was nearly nauseating. You shook your head again, confirming that you’d never once used protection with him. “Hey… c’mon…” he started softly when your body shook with the force of your cries but you were no longer making any sounds. He wanted to say it would be alright but he wasn’t sure if it would be. 

That answer relied on you. 

He couldn’t expect you to be alright, you had your heart broken three weeks prior by the man who often talked about proposing to you as soon as you all graduated. If those were the kind of conversations Suguru was having with him, he couldn’t imagine the conversations Suguru had been having with you. Well, that was a bit of a lie. Considering your reaction to the test results, it seemed this was a long sought after goal. Your cries were from heartbreak, not fear. 

~

“I’ve been looking at rings.” Satoru glanced up, noodles dangling half way from his lips. “Hah?” He watched Suguru grimace a bit, some broth splattering as Satoru questioned him. “I’ve been looking at rings for Y/N.” Suguru stated again, a little more cautiously now, watching Satoru slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth. “Suguru, we haven’t even entered our third year.” 

“I know, but…” he shrugged, unable to formulate the right way to say it. “...But? You’re not even eighteen yet, neither is she.” It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t think it was okay, he just figured you were both way too young to even fathom those things. “I don’t intend on proposing to her until we’ve graduated. Listen I know it seems fast but…” Suguru's hands fidgeted with his utensils for a moment, eyes avoiding Satoru until he was ready.

“I love her, Satoru. I didn’t even think it was possible to love someone as much as I love her.” 

Satoru blinked, a bit taken back by such a bold declaration over a bowl of cheap ramen. “I’m not doubting that you love her, Suguru. I just think it’s a bit crazy to think about these things so young.” Suguru sighed, watching Satoru with weary eyes as he moved to eat more noodles. 

“We’re sourcers, Satoru. A long life isn’t guaranteed.” 

~

“Breathe, please. You’re going to pass out.” Satoru’s hand was slapping your back as you coughed, the tears had finally begun to slow but you still weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. “Please…” he tried again, watching you try your best to take a deep breath. It was followed by another, this time it wasn’t superficial. After a couple more, you were able to rub the tears from your eyes and look at him without blurry vision. 

“S-satoru I’m so so-sorry.” you hiccuped, your throat feeling raw from your crying. “You have nothing to apologize for, stop feeling like you have to apologize for everything you do.” he let you go a bit, motioning for you to get up with him and sit on his bed rather than the floor. He watched you crawl under his covers, curling up against his pillows, sniffling softly. Despite the weight of the conversation you were about to have, Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle. 

He crawled onto his bed as well, sitting beside you but above the covers. “So… I guess the best place to start is… how did this happen. By that I mean, was it intentional?” You sighed, toying with the end of his pillow case as you spoke. “Suguru had been trying to get me pregnant for months now.” You felt warmth flood your cheeks, it felt awkward admitting something like that. “I knew the bastard had a breeding kink.” Satoru said it more to himself than you, but that didn’t stop the shrill yell of his name as you slapped his arm. 

“I’m being honest! He just seemed like the type.” Satoru shrugged, holding back laughter as you rolled your eyes and settled back into sulking. “I shouldn’t be so blindsided by this, but it’s fucking ironic that he got what he wanted after he fucking left me… us.” you corrected softly, feeling selfish for being so focused on yourself when Satoru was hurting too. “The universe knows how to play cruel jokes, I’ve thought that my whole life. But, that’s beside the point. We can’t sit here and sulk over it, we need to talk about what to do next.” 

You looked up at Satoru, eyes red from crying. It hurt his heart, you looked like a kicked puppy. In that moment he realized how heavily he relied on Suguru, because even now he found himself itching to grab his phone and call him for advice. What was worse, you were now looking to him for help, when really he was just as scared as you. “The next logical step is I need to find a doctor who can run a blood test and confirm the store bought tests are accurate. After that, they need to tell me how far along I am so I can pinpoint when this happened.”

Satoru nodded, you’d both have to fill in Shoko in the morning, she’d be able to help with all the medical bits. “I… I know this seems a bit invasive so please don’t take offense… but are you going to keep it?” Satoru fidgeted a bit, eyes watching as you seemed to zone out and think. Your initial answer was yes, of course, but were you really capable of raising a baby on your own? Then again, you didn’t think you could stomach giving them away for adoption, and you certainly didn’t want to get rid of them. Not after you chased this goal for months, regardless of the way things were right now. “Yeah, as terrifying as it is, I want this baby, Satoru.” 

“Okay, so we got two of the biggest things out of the way. Now, the hardest…” you huffed as he trailed off, you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to answer the next question. “What do we do about Suguru, that’s what you’re going to say, right?” It was Satoru’s turn to huff now, nodding as he looked away from you to stare at his hands.

“He… he needs to know.” 

“No the fuck he doesn’t.” 

You both stared at each other, completely scandalized by the other’s response. “Satoru… He needs to know… he…he’s the fucking dad? How am I supposed to jus–” Satoru shook his head, hands coming up to rub his face before letting them fall back to his lap. “Suguru is a fucking criminal now, he murdered people. Hundreds of people I should fucking remind you and you just want to waltz back into his fucking life and tell him that shit?” You sat up now, eyes burning holes into his skull as you waited for him to at least look at you. “Do you hear yourself?” 

You were seething, that same anger you held for Suguru leaving was now bubbling at Satoru for uttering his name like it was pure filth. Satoru stiffened, eyes turning to glare at you. But, every ounce of anger seemed to drain from his body when he saw nothing but hurt glowing in your tired and puffy eyes. “I fucking get it, Satoru. I know what Suguru did but fuck, how am I supposed to just get over him? How am I supposed to carry his child for nine months and push it out of my body just to raise it on my fucking own and never tell him? He’s the one that wanted this in the first place!” Tears glossed your eyes over, hands shaking as they fisted in his sheets.

His mouth opened before closing again, eyes looking away from you because he knew he'd never be able to try and talk sense into you when you looked at him like that. “And what if the child is unable to see curses?” he sounded defeated. “What then, Y/N? What if you give birth to this baby and they lack the ability to see them? That baby would be the very thing Suguru hates.” You froze, it felt like someone had poured ice water down the back of your neck. “If he didn’t spare his own parents, he won’t spare his own child.” Satoru swallowed, looking like he wanted to say so much more but didn’t. He let the words hang there, heavy and dark. 

The silence stretched on between the two of you, mostly because you knew he was right. Just because both parents had the ability to see into the curse world and use curse energy, it didn’t guarantee that their offspring would also carry the same blessing. You blinked, hand subconsciously moving to rest over your stomach, as if it would do anything to protect them. “Suguru he… he wouldn’t…” Your words were weak and at that moment Satoru couldn’t bring himself to really fight with you. “But he would, y/n that’s the fucking issue, he would.” his voice was breaking, unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next. 

“Then what am I going to do?” You were going to dissolve, tears burning your eyes again as the harsh reality began to sink in. “Let me help you, let me help you raise the baby. I can easily provide for the two of you.” He turned to look at you now, eyes burning with such intensity it stole the air from your lungs. “What?” you hadn’t meant for it to sound offended, you were shocked to say the least, but still the hurt that flashed through his features made you feel the urge to reach out and hug him. “Satoru I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh…” You moved forward, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and hugging him. 

It took a second but his arms came up to wrap around your middle, holding you tightly. “It’s okay, it was a bold statement to make so suddenly.” he soothed you when really you felt that you  should be the one soothing him. “No it’s fine, really it just caught me by surprise and…” you hugged him a little tighter, burying your face in his neck. For a moment you nearly stiffened, that was something you usually did to seek comfort from Suguru. In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, finding comfort in Satoru’s reassuring embrace. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.” He hushed you, hand coming up to smooth your hair as he kept you close. “I doubt you have an appetite now, how about we just sleep?” 

“I still need to shower.” You pulled away, laughing softly when you remembered what you had been in the process of doing before your world flipped. “Okay, then go and shower but please come back to me when you’re done.” His tone was quiet, something in it held no room for you to disagree. So, you let go of him reluctantly, nodding as you crawled over him to stand. “Again, you don’t have to answer me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. But please, think about what I said.” He stayed on his bed, watching you shakily grab the pregnancy test before heading for his door. “I will, Satoru. Keep my spot warm.” you smiled at him over your shoulder, heart still heavy as you disappeared through the open door. 

The hot water on your skin wasn’t enough to wash away the dread growing in your chest. You found your hands absentmindedly running along your abdomen, still finding it hard to believe something was there, something that would grow into a living breathing human in a few months time. A mix of you and Suguru, how strange. This wasn’t how you imagined it would happen, nor were these the feelings you expected to experience when the time came. If anything, it made you more upset. You should be happy, you should be fucking estatic. You should be basking in the euphoric state of knowing you’d be having a child with the man you adored. 

Instead, you had sobbed in the arms of his best friend, completely hysterical. And the man you loved had no idea you were even pregnant, that the very thing he wanted had been achieved and he wouldn’t even get to know. At least not yet. You had taken Satoru’s words into consideration, of course you did. But in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go on with your life without ever telling Suguru. He would know, he would know of his child, you were already set on that. You twisted the knob, the water turning off a second later as you got out and dried yourself off a bit before wrapping the towel around you. 

Your body was aching from the events of the last few hours. Returning to Satoru’s room and sleeping in his warm bed sounded like heaven to you. Sleeping next to someone again felt like heaven to you. You had to wonder what Suguru would think if he knew you were sharing his best friend’s bed – albeit nothing sexual was occuring between the two of you. And even then, Suguru had broken up with you in that letter, you were technically no longer his. The thought made you feel sick as you reached for the clothing you had laid on your bed. You pulled the shorts on first, reaching for the oversized shirt second, trying to ignore the nausea building in your gut. 

You moved around your room without thinking, flicking the lights off before heading out the door and back down the hall. Satoru had changed into his own pajamas, hair damp from the shower he must have taken while you went to take yours. He only had his bedside lamp on, the pace beside him vacant and waiting for you. “Are you sure you don’t want food?” he questioned softly as you shut the door behind you. “I’ll eat a good breakfast if my morning sickness allows.” Those words felt foreign, referring to your nausea as morning sickness felt so bizarre. “Alright but if you wake up in the middle of the night starving don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

You laughed softly, huffing out an “okay” as you crawled over him and under the covers once more. Satoru pulled the blankets up over both of you before reaching over and flicking off the light. “Goodnight.” he spoke softly, settling into his bed as you rolled onto your side to get comfortable. “Night, Satoru.” You whispered back, eyes already feeling heavy, the comfort his bed offered was no match for the gnawing reality you were facing. For now, you were thankful for it. 

~

“Think fast!” You laughed, hurtling one of the poles directly in Satoru’s direction. He turned, using infinity to block it just before it hit his face. “Nice! Your reflexes are getting faster.” You picked up another weapon, Suguru was watching you intently, an easy smile on his face. “Sugu!” You called, aiming to throw another pole. “Think fast.” you repeated, arm going back before using every ounce of strength to beeline it straight at him. Suguru smiled, summoning a curse easily to deflect it. “Not bad.” you winked, watching him roll his eyes as the curse disappeared.

“Y’all are gross.” Satoru drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We didn’t even say anything?” Suguru countered, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “You don’t need to say anything, the tension is almost unbearable.” Shoko chimed, twirling her lighter around her fingers as she watched the three of you. This time you couldn’t help but laugh, letting Suguru close the distance and wrap an arm around your waist. “See, gross!” Satoru sighed dramatically as you kissed Suguru’s cheek. “It’s called being in love, something you wouldn’t get, Satoru.” You stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes. 

“Well if you’re gonna be all gross and lovey with one another, go do it in private.” 

“Okay.” 

You and Suguru spoke in unison, a shrill laugh leaving you as he bent down and hauled you up and over his shoulder. Naturally Shoko faked a gagging noise, watching as he carried you away with a smile. “They’re so gross.” Satoru commented again, eyes following the two of you until you were completely out of sight. Though, he couldn't deny the small smile tugging at his lips. 

“Suguru.” you slapped his back lightly, he was still carrying you over his shoulder even after entering the dorm buildings. “Hmm?” he paid you no mind as he climbed the stairs, his end destination would be your dorm room… more specifically your bed. “You can put me down now.” You knew he wouldn’t, so you opted for running your hands along his back, feeling his steps falter for a moment before composing himself. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.” 

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his ass. “Alright, that's it. You’re getting punished.” His words were very matter-of-fact, so much so that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay dad.” Suguru didn’t miss a beat, stalking down the hallway towards your dorm room. “Yeah, I’m trying to become one so it would help me out if you cooperated.” You made a strangled noise, it had been three weeks since Suguru admitted to wanting to get you pregnant. Needless to say, he wasn’t giving up any time soon. 

“You just want a reason to fuck me.” You tried to counter, jumping a bit as he pushed into your dorm room and kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t need a reason to fuck you, baby.” You couldn't describe the noise you made, whiplash taking over as he tossed you onto your bed. “I guess that’s true…” You pushed up on your elbows, watching him pull his white shirt up and over his head, knocking his hair out of his bun in the process. “You’ll be good for me right?” He was dropping to his knees before you, a gentle plea of his name leaving your lips.

“Atta girl.” he murmured, warm fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down. You watched him with parted lips, watching the way his eyes observed you. “Already wet? How fucking filthy.” his hands splayed along your thighs, pushing them wide open so he could really look at you. “Just because I picked you up? Or maybe it was from wrapping my arms around your waist?” He teased, pulling one hand from your thigh to spread your cunt open instead. “Tell me, pretty girl… what has you so worked up already?” 

“All of it.” You’re breathless as you look at him, no shame in your eyes as you admit how badly you want him. Suguru smiled, fingers keeping you spread as he watched the arousal pool at your entrance. “All of it, hmm? I make you that horny?” His tone was light but the look in his eyes was anything but. You could feel him devouring you whole. “Yeah, you fucking do.” You tried to keep your hips still, praying he’d do something other than watch you grow wetter by the second. “Tell me something, would you?” he pulled his eyes away to meet yours. 

“Anything.” You comment softly, waiting to hear what he had to say. Suguru smiled, fighting the urge to reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His voice was barely a whisper, pupils blown wide as he looked at you. You audibly groan, face feeling warm as your head falls back. “Eat me out, Suguru.” You drawl, no longer embarrassed by the things he makes you say. “As you wish.” He couldn’t even tease you for such an honest answer. Suguru’s head dipped lower, tongue licking up your inner thighs, teeth grazing the skin eagerly. 

“Sugu…” You whined out, his lips growing closer to your aching cunt. “... can I suck you off after?” 

Suguru’s whole body jolted as you uttered those words, mouth moving to lick and suck along your folds as his honest answer. You took that as a yes. You couldn’t help but squirm as his hands began kneading the flesh of your thighs, all the while his tongue was lapping at your cunt. Each movement sent electricity up your spine, one hand shakily reaching out to hold his head as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit. “Oh fuck… Suguru…” you were embarrassed by how quickly he had learned to make you cum, the pressure already building in your gut. 

He didn’t slow, rather he slipped two fingers into your slick entrance and scissored them in time with his sucking. He loved to put on a show for you, going as far as to slurp your juices just so he could hear you cry out. You couldn’t think straight when his tongue was wiggling against your clit, stopping every few seconds to suck until your back arched. Suguru continued this until he felt your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling harsh as your moans turned into breathy gasps. He pulled away with a slick pop, smiling deviously as your head shot up to glare at him. “Suguru!” You wailed, letting go of his hair angrily. 

“Not yet, I don’t want you coming yet.”  

“No fucking fair!” you whined, head falling back against the mattress in defeat. “So selfish.” Suguru laughed as he pushed himself off the floor, now making a show of pulling the rest of his clothing off. “There goes your chances at getting head.” you chided, watching as that shit eating grin remained on his lips. “You think this is funny!” you whined again, the echoes of your denied orgasm making you close your thighs to try and alleviate the pressure. Suguru watched you, cock throbbing as he kicked his pants off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side. 

“I do think it’s funny, mostly because you look so cute when you’re so worked up.” his hands wrapped around himself, pumping languidly as you spread your thighs again, eager for more. Suguru smirked, always defiant until his cock was out. “Nah baby, I don’t think you deserve this right now.” he continued to stroke himself, head falling back just a bit as his own aching arousal was finally being relieved. “Sugu…” you choked out in a hushed whisper, mouth watering as he let out a breathy sigh, fingers toying with the sensitive tip. You were regretting your earlier statement. 

“Sugu…” you spoke softly, watching him lift one leg to plant his foot on the mattress, hand still gliding along his shaft as his jaw slackened. He ignored you, continuing to get himself off. He was waiting for you to do something, that realization had you pushing yourself up, pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your legs off the side of the bed, maneuvering yourself until you sat on your knees before him. “Let me suck you off.” breathless, hands folded neatly on your lap as you waited for his response. 

Suguru smiled at you, watching the mattress move as your hips squirmed. “I thought you said the chances of me getting head were gone.” he teased, hand massaging just before the head of his cock, making his own voice falter as he spoke to you. “I never said that.” which was kind of true, you didn’t say those exact words. Suguru cocked an eyebrow, unable to maintain his stern demeanor as your tongue moved to wet your lips, eyes completely focused on his fist. “Please, your hand is so boring Suguru, especially when you could have my mouth.” you tried again, eyes sliding up his torso, admiring the dips and plains of his muscles. 

“When you put it like that, it’s hard to say no.” he murmured softly, letting his cock go. You scooted closer, until your knees were nearly off the edge of the mattress. “Thank you.” You whispered softly, watching his face flush a shade of pink, eyes quickly looking away from you to try and regain some sort of composure. The first touch was always enough to make him weak in the knees, your tongue gliding gently over his weeping tip before lowering to the underside of his shaft. He met your eyes, face still flushed as you looked at him with such adoration. All the while your mouth was doing sinful things to him, your duality was enough to induce whiplash. 

His fingers came up to rake through your hair, guiding you as your jaw slackened, head moving to engulf him in the wet heat your mouth had to offer. “Oh fuck…” Suguru choked when you didn’t stop moving, throat constricting as your nose brushed the unruly mess of black hair at his base. You held yourself there, drool dripping down your chin as your cheeks hollowed. Slowly you dragged yourself back, watching the shiny coat of saliva covering his shaft in your wake. You repeated those motions, finding a comfortable place to bob your head at, his length heavy on your tongue. “So good for me… fuck you’re so good for me… I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” 

You merely hummed, ignoring the slow but steady ache building in your jaw as your hand moved along his shaft. You could tell he was starting to really feel it, his cock twitching every few motions, head tilted back as his eyes fluttered shut. You had to admit you were impressed he managed to stay on his feet. Most times, when Suguru dared to eat you out while you were standing, you were nearly a dead weight in his grasp by the end. The only thing keeping you up was the wall he stuffed you against and his shoulders because he tossed your legs over them. You stopped when you felt him twitching violently, jaw clenched tight as his head shot forward to look down at you.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty girl.” He choked out, hands cupping your cheeks to guide you as you moved your head again. Your hands shot out, holding his thighs tightly as you let him use your head how he pleased, guiding you to a pace that made your eyes water before he stilled all together. You forced yourself to relax as Suguru spilled down your throat, letting you greedily swallow all of it before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. “Fuck…” he nearly fell into the bed, dick still hard as he crawled onto the matress with you. “How about we do this…” he sounded breathless, laying on his side and guiding you to do the same. You knew what he wanted, swollen lips parting as you sighed, settling with your back just barely touching his front. 

You let Suguru grab one leg, lifting it up slowly to create enough space for himself. “Lazy boy…” You teased over your shoulder, letting his arm hook under your neck, large hand resting on your chest. “Maybe I am, but you fucking love it.” You couldn’t complain, not when he was angling his hips and pressing the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance. He pressed into you, adjusting both of your bodies until he found a comfortable position to properly rut his hips into you. All you could do is let him, whining loudly as he split you open, stuffing you full. “How’s that, hmm? Does it feel good?” Suguru whispered against your ear, panting as your walls constricted around him and tried to push him out at the very same time. “F-feels so good…so good…” You whined loudly. 

Suguru didn’t give you a verbal response after that, instead focusing all of his attention on finding a good rhythm to fuck you too. You couldn’t stop the noises that spilled past your lips, each drag of his cock in and out of your heat was enough to make your vision blurry. It took everything in you to at least keep your head up, tilted downwards to watch where he disappeared and reappeared between your legs.  “Suguru…” a breathless plea, one that turned into a steady mantra as all you could think about was him and what he was doing to you. Had you not been so overwhelmed you would have heard his quiet grunts of praise each time your bodies connected. 

Suguru watched a shaky hand slide down your front, in your whimpering daze you managed to slip two fingers down there to rub sloppy circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, aren’t ya?” Suguru gasped, his cock twitching violently as your cunt suctioned to him, nearly making his thrusts falter. “Y-yeah…” you managed to get out, no longer having the strength to keep your head up. You let it fall, resting snuggly in the crook of the arm he was using to support you. “Then come for me, pretty girl. I wanna feel you come all over my cock… then maybe I’ll fill you up, yeah? You’d love that…” you responded with a loud whine, walls fluttering around his length each time he pushed it back in. 

“There we go, come for me.” He encouraged again, warm breath ghosting the shell of your ear and earning a shiver in response. You could feel it, the aching build of a damn that was on the verge of breaking, every breath you made was nothing but a labored pant. Your heart was beating erratically, just as you were about to fall over the edge, Suguru gasped. You couldn’t help but gasp with him, his release pumping into you, hot and sticky. “F-fuck sorry…” he grounded out, his own orgasm sneaking up on him and completely catching you by surprise. Not that it mattered to you, that strained and embarrassed apology was all you needed before you felt yourself coming as well. 

You both essentially collapsed, Suguru holding you tightly as he angled himself to remain inside of you, to keep his cum inside of you. “You okay?” he mumbled softly, hand lazily reaching for the one you had used to rub your clit and bring it to your lips. You whined as he popped the shiny fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. “Yeah, I'm good…great really.” You chuckled, eyelids feeling heavy as he hummed. “Good.” he mumbled softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth to kiss them gingerly. “You know I love you, right?” Suguru’s voice was tender, so tender it nearly pulled the air out of your lungs. “Yeah, of course I know that Sugu… you know I love you too, right?” 

“I know.” was all he said in reply, you had to wonder why he was suddenly so sentimental. Suguru was typically softer with you after sex, aftercare was one of his specialties. But something about his tone felt different, something about his question felt like there was more meaning behind it. You had been noticing the bags under his eyes for the last few weeks, but every time you asked he always brushed you off. “Is everything okay?” you tried to turn your head to look back at him, but the angle he had you in proved to make movement difficult. “Mmhmm, just want to make sure you’re okay.” but he hadn’t  been that rough with you. “Yeah, I’m okay… but you haven’t answered me.” He stopped kissing your hand, setting it down gently as he moved to kiss your shoulder. 

“I haven’t?” 

“I asked you if you were okay.”

“Well, I did answer you. I said yes.” he didn’t sound offended, more or less he sounded amused. “Mmhmm isn’t a yes, Suguru.” You, on the other hand, sounded a little less enthused. “I’m okay, baby. Is that better.” you couldn’t see it but you could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, that’s better.” But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the worry clinging to your heart. 

~

“Hey… hey…” you woke with a gasp, eyes wet as you tried to remember where you were. “You okay? You started crying in your sleep again.” A worried but groggy voice was speaking to you, one that was familiar but your brain couldn’t seem to catch up. “Y/N? It’s me, it’s Satoru.” There it was, you nearly fell back into the pillow with relief as he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry… I was dreaming and it just… fuck it felt so real. I couldn’t remember where I was…” you wiped your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dark room again. “It’s okay… you’ve been dreaming a lot.” Satoru sighed, he remembered you saying that your nights had been pretty dreamless for the last three weeks so why was that changing now? 

“I know… it just started happening too. Maybe it's because of the baby.”

Your hand lowered to your stomach, palm resting flatley against it. You still couldn’t process the fact that there was something in there, something that was growing, a mix of you and him. “Can pregnancy make you dream more?” Satoru chuckled, blue eyes shifting to read his alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning. You had slept pretty well until a few minutes ago. He had been watching you, woken up by your body growing restless. He woke you up the moment he heard you start to sniffle. “I dunno, maybe.” you sighed, eyes feeling heavy again. “Sorry for waking you, Toru.” You didn’t hear the way his breath hitched, your yawn effectively shutting it all out. 

You hadn’t called him by that nickname in weeks, he hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. “Don’t apologize, I told you to stop that.” Not stern, just tired, he wanted you to go back to normal but he knew that was impossible. Things would never go back to how they were. “Oh, yeah… I guess you have told me that.” You chuckle, turning on your side to face him in the dark. “I won’t apologize for forgetting this time, okay?” You grinned, eyes closing and unaware that he was able to see it in the dark. “Okay.” He sighed, a grin creeping up his own face as he let his eyes shut again. Hopefully you’d sleep through to his alarm at 8:30am, you had a busy day ahead. 

~END OF PART ONE~

Thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to part 2 <3333

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ;3

[obbystars]

Drown in the Deep

Synopsis: Drown your sorrows away into the deep dark ocean where it can’t be found. Feel its cold embrace and let the water in. Maybe then, you’ll see him again when you no longer feel anything.

CONTENT WARNING: The reader very much intends to die/get themself killed, detailing how they’d love to drown in the abyss.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Spoilers for Sebastian’s backstory / Possibly OOC / Established relationship, can be interpreted as either married or not but they are living together / Angst (Hurt w/ eventual comfort) / Death + blood (not the reader despite the synopsis and content warning) / Not really a happy ending honestly

(This is VERY self-indulgent I love hate Sebastian. Also a bit of experimentation and playing around with his character. I’m not so good on romance stuff, so I hope what’s here is to your liking. Also rewrote some parts A LOT due to idea change/read up on lore and realized things didn’t add up here. I think I’ve got most of it covered though. Anyway I love how a few runs of playing Pressure for the first time, I died to A-60 HAHAAAAA kill me.)

Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune

A chance to be freed from your criminal record, and a reward worth to last for a very, very long time. As they always say, “High risk, high reward,” and the risks were certainly high. You could very much die. It was a chance anyone crazy enough would take.

But you didn’t sign up for this for the reward. You didn’t care about it in the slightest. To you, this would be an easy way out. An escape from this dreadful life fate had decided for you. So here you are, sitting in a submarine with three others in silence. There’s no telling on how deep you’re going, they never bothered to tell you how exactly far it was nor the possible dangers you’ll be facing. You’ll welcome anything if it means you won’t wake up again.

Still, you wondered why things went the way it did. Everything was fine until your partner was framed for a murder he didn’t commit. Nine murders, to be exact. You were there for the trial. You saw and heard everything. You kept your cool throughout all of it. You were hoping, praying to whatever god is out there to show them he was innocent. None of it mattered in the end.

After the trial, you went straight home, not even bothering to listen to your family who was also there. By the time you entered your shared home and locked the door behind you, you stood in silence for a while. You didn’t know what you were feeling at that very moment. You felt hot tears beginning to swell up, and your vision beginning to blur. Your legs eventually give out and you fell to your knees. You muffled your sobs with your hand as you curled up on the floor.

You couldn’t get yourself to calm down for a while. You don’t even know how long you were laying there once you feel your tears dry up and the sound of your heart beating rapidly leaves your ears. You don’t know what to do.

He was imprisoned and sentenced for execution for the nine murders you know he didn’t cause, but that didn’t matter. You weren’t there when it supposedly happened. You couldn’t prove anything. You were powerless to do anything.

Many early mornings were spent struggling to even leave the house, let alone the bed itself if you even managed to drag yourself to bed. You were too exhausted to even try for most. When you did manage to begin your day, you quickly became aware that everything is so much more irritating. People talking to you, certain noises you hear, how your food tastes… You just wanted to go back home and waste away.

As for majority of your nights, they have been spent just curled up in bed and crying until you eventually exhausted yourself. Gripping anything that resembled or had traces left of him and holding it close, hoping just the mere fleeting scent of him lulls you to sleep. Feeling the cold and empty space beside you and being reminded he’s gone, as if the reminders from your family weren’t already enough.

You know your family has been trying to contact you, sometimes even coming to the house, but you’ve ignored them every time. You don’t want to see them. You don’t want to talk, to hear, or to even think about them. You just wanted to be left alone.

A few years had gone by since then but you didn’t feel any better than before. You weren’t sure if you felt worse. Maybe it was because you felt numb nowadays.

Before you knew it, you soon find yourself behind bars. What you did, you don’t know. If you really did it, you didn’t care. You don’t know how long your sentence is, but you don’t care. You don’t know if whatever you did caused any deaths, but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You just wanted to drown in your despair, and this… “job offer” seemed promising. Retrieve a crystal deep inside a facility hidden in the deepest parts of the ocean.

To be so deep underwater to where the sun does not shine, to drift endlessly as water fills your lungs and it becomes so unbearably cold. To where you can’t feel anything anymore, not your body nor your emotions. To just feel the cold water and see nothing but darkness as the water pulls your body to wherever it so desires. Perhaps your remains could become the next meal for whatever lurks in the ocean’s abyss. Your body would never be found. You’d be gone without a trace.

So you signed up, knowing they don’t expect you to return. You don’t either. You don’t plan on getting that crystal, and you don’t plan on returning alive.

The shotgun shell directed at your neck on the diving gear given to you seemed promising as well.

If there is an afterlife, maybe you can see him again there. That sounded nice. You just wish you weren’t sent down with three other people. You never thought it’d be so hard to die in a place where risks of death were incredibly high. Perhaps it was because they wanted to use each other to get the reward for themselves, so they kept each other alive as long as possible. Covering each other’s eyes when the shark was outside the window, turning off another’s flashlight when an odd black figure appeared in the dark, saving each other from the creature inside the lockers… They weren’t going to let such easy bait be killed so easily, not this early.

Still, you strayed close behind as they often checked if you were still there. You kept your head low, until you heard another pair of footsteps from behind you.

Strange… The other three are already in front of you… And they’re just looking through drawers for anything useful.

The footsteps are getting louder and faster. You turned around just in time to see a strangely humanoid, armless figure running at you. It yelped the moment you locked eyes on it, immediately turning tail and running away.

“What the hell was that?!” One of the other expendables exclaimed.

Both of you walked back into the previous room to see where it possibly came from. There was a hole in the wall, shaped exactly like the creature they just saw.

“So they’re really in the walls, huh…” they then lightly punch your shoulder, “Hey, good job. I didn’t even hear it until it made that weird sound before it ran off,”

You say nothing.

“Come on, let’s keep going,”

You looked at them as they rejoined the others then back at the hole. You wished you didn’t turn around.

After a few more doors, the lights suddenly flickered. The one closest to you grabbed you and had you hide in a locker. Maybe they picked up on what you’ve been trying to do. You did willingly look into the eyes of the shark just outside the window, and they had to cover your eyes and drag you along with them. You also opened a locker that was already occupied by a strange creature coated in black and, what you assumed were, purple eyes. You hoped they’d leave you behind to be devoured by it, but you were pulled out and was patched up as best as they could do it. The damage wasn’t too severe, but still. There just had to be a spare medical kit in the room.

Maybe you weren’t being so discreet about it.

There were only three lockers in the room you were currently in and none in the room prior. They pressed on to the next door ahead. You were about to open your locker to step out into the path of the oncoming creature, but it zipped by you in an instant. It was much faster than what you’ve been dealing with.

You hear the others leave their locker followed with a quick flash of the flash beacon. You slowly step out of your locker and follow them into the next room to meet up with the other person. The one in front of you pulled out their flashlight, but ended up tripping over something. You stopped walking as they shine their light over what made them trip.

It was the one who ran ahead to find a spare locker. There was no blood or any signs of injury, but they weren’t moving and their eyes were still wide open. The other two tried to get them to respond, even shaking them, but they remained unresponsive. It was almost like they were just left an empty shell.

You restrain yourself from speaking as you would’ve called them an idiot for giving up a hiding spot in favor to make sure their bait stayed alive for a little longer, only to get killed in the process. Only 27 doors have been opened. Surely not all of you can survive much longer.

By the 35th door, one of them had used a code breacher to open a door without the keycard. Once the door slid open, a large creature with a smiling grey mask was seen on the other side of the door. Before they could react, it lunged towards them and instantly killed them on the spot before retracting their hand as it gets caught in the door while it was sliding shut. The blood splattered all over the floor and even reached you and the other expendable beside you.

By the 47th door, the lights flickered as you searched through a room off to the side. You can hear what you can describe as a distorted chorus faintly echoing down the hall, and soon a loud scream followed with multiple banging against a locker. The noise stopped as you walked to the door leading back to the path you’re supposed to take and you only see the aftermath. A fresh pool of blood and a destroyed locker. There was no body. The creature responsible is no where to be found.

You were alone now. Finally.

You kept your head low as you continued on, not bothering to search through the drawers for anything. Your body is starting to ache at this point. You opened the 50th door leading into a dimly lit corridor.

“Need to stock up?”

You looked up as you see the vent’s cover fall over. You turned around, then back towards the vent. You can see the next door ahead that requires a keycard, but you can’t find it from out here. You didn’t have a code breacher either as the others you were previously with had used them up.

“Come on, I won’t bite,” the strangely familiar voice beckons.

Had he not spoken twice, you would’ve thought you were hallucinating. Or maybe you are right now. A sort of “false hope,” so to speak. Not to mention how you can just barely recognize the voice. You’re having a hard time processing it after everything.

With no where else to turn, you walk to the vent and slowly crawl through. The room was dark, but lit up as you made it to the other side. You managed to get a good look at him, not exactly expecting some sort of fish-human hybrid.

“Ah, there you-” you see how his smile quickly disappears and his eyes widened once he sees you.

You only stare at him, tilting your head slightly to the side. He looked like he had just seen a ghost which wouldn’t be so far off considering what you had to witness for the past 49 doors, but why was he looking at you like that? He cautiously lowered himself down, close enough to your height but still far enough for some space.

You instinctively, though slightly, moved away as his hand moved closer to your face. That was until he finally spoke.

“[Name]..?”

You stepped back upon hearing your name leave his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him, “How do you…?”

Then it finally registered in your head. You’re not just hearing things, that voice was his.

Your eyes widened, now feeling his cold hand against your cheek, “S-Sebastian?“

“Yes…! Yes!” He nods, smiling widely, “It’s me!”

You couldn’t hold back your tears at all. The moment he confirmed it was really him was what finally broke down your walls. The last time you had cried this much was when he was to be executed. You had to hold onto his hand to keep yourself standing. He seemed to sense that as his third limb pulled you closer to him and held you in a tight embrace. You buried your face into his shoulder and sobbed until his grip on you got a bit too tight.

“W-Wait, Sebastian-!” You cried, “Let go!”

He gasps, immediately pulling away. You winced as you gently rubbed your arm. You looked up at Sebastian again and smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you’re still alive. I have so many questions. Can I-?”

Sebastian stops you there, “Hang on. Before I get to answering your questions, I have one tiny question for you,” he suddenly towers over you as he yells, “How the hell did you get here?! And why the hell did you sign up for this?! Didn’t they tell you the risks? That you could very much die?”

You jumped at his sudden change in tone and almost fell back. His tail had went to cover the opening of the vent in case you ultimately decided to make a run for it. What do you even tell him? That you signed up just to die? No other reason. How could you tell him that?

“I-I… Well, yes, they did. I just- It’s because…” you don’t know what to say.

“Tell me the truth,” he demands. You swear you heard a hiss in his voice, “Of all people, why did you have to end up here?”

“I signed up for this because…” you paused, “Specifically because I wanted to die. I knew what I was getting myself into, Sebastian. They didn’t tell me anything specific,”

“Of course those idiots didn’t…” He scoffed, “They don’t expect you or the others to return,”

“I never planned to. I couldn’t care less about this so called crystal they told me I was supposed to retrieve,” you looked away, “Honestly, I don’t even remember what I did to end up here… Maybe I did something that killed a few people, or maybe I was framed like you,”

Sebastian calmed down a little and had moved back as you spoke. He repositions himself so that his back was against the wall and his tail would nudge you towards him.

“You said you signed up with the intention to die here,” he then says, “Why?”

You sit beside him as his tail slightly curls around you, “You were sent for execution and confirmed to be dead. I just couldn’t live with the fact that I couldn’t see you,”

His looks at your bloodied clothes and noticed bandages through some of the holes in your uniform. He points to it, “Are those..?”

“It’s from this weird black tentacle creature in a locker. It’s nothing too serious, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

He muttered a name you didn’t quite catch and he quickly moves on, “And the blood?”

You shake your head, “It’s not mine,”

He lets out a sigh of relief at that. It was finally your turn to ask questions.

“Sebastian, how did you survive?”

“Was picked up by Urbanshade before I was supposed executed. Guess they decided it’d be better if I was officially declared dead,”

“And you became this during that time?”

“You could say that. It’s, uh… It’s a long story,”

He doesn’t want to discuss it and you knew that was the case. So, you didn’t question it further. You have a good feeling you may have an idea now that you noticed a document on the table. Whatever was in there might have the answers to most of your questions, but you’re not sure if you even want to read it if he lets you. The mere thought of what could be mentioned in there makes you sick.

There’s still one other that you desperately want an answer for.

“We’re… not leaving this place, are we?” You questioned, not looking at him, “At least, I’m probably not thanks to this diving gear… One shotgun shell pointed directly at my neck, and if I even try to take it off, tamper with it, or leave this place,”

You stopped there. Both of you knew. Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment, “I can get both of us out of here. I just need more time,”

More time. How much more time before your body can no longer keep going? You want to believe him, you really do, but you really might actually die here.

How ironic. You came here because you wanted to die. You watched the others die before your very eyes without much of a reaction. All of a sudden, you feel your stomach drop.

You’re afraid to die.

[nathaslosthershit]

A Much Needed Interview (OP81)

(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.

“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.

‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.

“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”

“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”

“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”

“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 

“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”

“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.

“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.

“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”

“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.

“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”

“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”

“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”

“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”

“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”

“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”

“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.

“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”

“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”

The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 

Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.

Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.

“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.

“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 

In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.

Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.

[estrellami-1]

How Steve Harrington Gets a Family

The first time it happened, Steve didn’t remember. He had no idea why Hopper was acting so weird until Joyce took him aside, sighing softly.

“Oh, honey,” she murmurs. “You don’t remember, do you?”

He frowns at her. “Remember what?”

“You called him dad, Steve.”

“I-” he gapes. “What?”

It goes like this.

He’d been hospitalized, after the Russians; he doesn’t know all the details, won’t for years, but Hopper had escaped from the reactor, thrown his weight—and title—around until someone had put Steve in a room, in a bed, gotten an IV into him, run whatever tests doctors run.

He was delirious with the truth serum still in his system and the adrenaline wearing off, groaning in pain and mumbling nonsense.

Hopper had put a hand on his head, said, “I’ve got you, Steve. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

“Dad,” Steve had mumbled, shifting into Hopper’s hand, and promptly passed out.

“Oh,” Steve whispers after Joyce tells him. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, no shit he’s been acting weird, I mean why would he want me as a kid- shit, I need to apologize-” 

“Whoa,” Joyce says seriously, hands on his shoulders. “Slow down, Steve. You know Hopper loves you, right?”

Steve bites his lip on the snark that wants to come out, instead choosing to just blink at her.

“Christ,” Joyce laments, “I’m going back to school, everyone need so much damn therapy.” She takes a breath and looks Steve in the eye. “Hopper loves you, Steve. He’s considered you his kid for a long time now.”

Steve gapes at her. “No he hasn’t!”

Joyce raises a brow. “Uh-huh. And how many parties has he busted, exactly? And how many marks do you have on your record?”

Steve snaps his mouth shut. “Oh, shit,” he whispers, looking up at Joyce. “He- he does? Really?”

“Really,” Joyce confirms, pulling him into a hug.

“Oh,” he mumbles, before letting himself enjoy the hug.

Later, when he’s about to head home, he stops in front of Hopper, glancing nervously over to Joyce, who nods encouragingly. “Can I, uh. Talk to you? For a second?”

Hopper narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “No, nothing! Just-” he sighs, runs a hand through his hair, gestures Hopper out the door and around the side of the house. “So, Joyce and I were talking, right? And I was wondering why you’d been acting weird around me, and I didn’t even remember what I said in the hospital, so Joyce told me, and- and I don’t expect anything from you! At all! And it- how I feel doesn’t have to change anything-”

“Christ,” Hopper says, but he’s smiling. “I think you’re worse at emotions than I am.”

“Well I’ve never had to tell anyone I think of them as more of a father figure than my own father before!” Steve blurts out, then freezes.

Hopper bursts out laughing. “Jesus, kid, do you think before you talk?”

Steve’s not hurt. Really. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking anywhere but at Hopper. “I’ll leave.”

A hand on his wrist stops him. “C’mere, kid,” Hopper says, pulling him into a hug.

Steve stiffens. “What?”

“Boy, you’ve been my kid since the third time I didn’t write you up for one of those damn parties,” he grouses.

Steve relaxes into the hug. “So. If I, uh. Were to, maybe, call you dad again…”

“Just see what I’ll do if you don’t,” Hopper says gruffly, and it’s really not that funny but Steve’s just so relieved that he cracks up anyways.

They pull apart after a minute, and Steve has a giddy grin on his face as he backs up. “Bye, Dad,” he says, before turning and running to his car. Hopper’s laughter follows him.

He’s been close to Dustin for a while now, but still refuses to call his mom Claudia. The most he’ll do is Mrs. H, even though every time she sees him, she tries to get him to call her by her first name.

He can’t do it. He can’t make himself. Maybe it’s the manners instilled in him, maybe he’s just awkward as fuck, who knows. But he chickens out every time.

That’s why, when she answers the door, he smiles. “Hey, Mrs. H.”

“Steve,” she greets him warmly. “Come in, come in. Call me Claudia. Oh, what is this? I told you you don’t have to bring anything!”

“Just some cookies,” he promises her, putting them down where she directs and falling into the hug she gives him.

“Dear,” she asks him later, when they’re sitting at the table with Dustin, “call me Claudia, please?”

Steve can’t look at her; passes the butter Dustin’s silently asking for. “Sorry, Mrs. H.”

“Jesus,” Dustin groans, buttering his roll. “If you can’t even say her name then at least call her mom.”

Steve’s cheeks are on fire. “That’s not exactly up to me, Dust,” he grits out.

“Oh, dear,” Claudia sighs. “I would love for you to call me mom.”

“Then we’d be brothers,” Dustin adds, “which we basically are anyways.”

Steve snorts. “I don’t think that’s exactly how it works,” he tells Dustin, but takes a breath and smiles at Claudia. “Thanks, Mom,” he says quietly. Claudia beams back at him.

“I don’t give a damn!” Claudia yells at the hospital receptionist, who really just looks exceedingly bored.

Steve knows the look of someone who’s grabbing their pepper spray. “Mom?” He calls, wet and wobbly, and Claudia spins around, running to his side.

“Oh, Stevie,” she murmurs, gently cupping his hands. “Oh, goodness, your face- have you gotten looked at? Has someone come to see you? Where’s Dustin?”

Steve opens his mouth to answer and promptly bursts into tears. “He’s f-fine,” he manages. “Ankle. Getting- getting helped. But- Mom-”

She hushes him, pulling him down into a seat next to her. “Let it out, Steve, there you go. Mom’s here, I’ve got you.”

He finally composes himself enough to pull back and look at her. “It’s not good, Mom,” he whispers. “I tried, I really did, and I know CPR but he was losing so much blood-”

“Steve,” she stops him, “I thought you said Dustin was fine?”

“He is, it’s just his ankle, but Eddie, Mom… he’s back there, they’re doing surgery, but he- I felt-” he grabs at his own chest, and somehow Claudia knows what he means. “Oh, dear,” she murmurs, pulling him into another hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers into his ear. “You did what you could, you kept him stable until the doctors could do their job, and now it’s their turn, okay? Let them take care of it. They’re gonna do everything they can.”

His eyes well up again. “He didn’t kill anyone, Mom.”

“Oh, I know that, sweetie. It’s okay. I never thought he did.”

“But they do!” He sniffs, wipes at his face. “And what- what if-”

She pulls his attention back to her with a hand on his face. “Did I tell you about the time a known serial killer came in?” She whispers. He shakes his head. “He’d been in an… altercation, with the police. Shots had been fired. We all knew who he was, but when he flatlined on the table, we got his heart beating again.” She grips his hand tightly. “Doctors take an oath, Steve. They’re going to do everything they can. Okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, letting her pull him into another hug.

“Y’wanna tell me about Eddie?”

“You know Eddie.”

“Mhm, from Dusty. I’ve never heard about him from your perspective before.”

“I didn’t really know him before today,” he admits. “I knew of him, in high school, a little bit, but then I graduated and he didn’t and then Dustin started raving about him and… I got jealous.”

“Oh, Steve.” She cards a hand through his hair. “You know Dustin will always love you. You’re brothers.”

Steve sighs. “I know, but… we’re also not. I love you more than I love the woman who birthed me, and I love Dust as much as I’d love any biological sibling I could ever have, but-”

“I know,” Claudia says. “It’s okay, dear. Keep going. Tell me about Eddie.”

“Right. So I got jealous, and then I really didn’t wanna meet him, ‘cause he actually sounded kinda cool and I’m just… me. And I know what you’re gonna say, but you’re biased as my mom.” Claudia just chuckles. “But then I met him, and… he’s really nice, Mom. He really loves the twerps. And he’s, like… kind? And I know nice and kind are synonyms but it’s different. Like he’s just… an inherently good person. That’s kind. Nice you can fake. But you can’t fake kind. Y’know?”

“I know what you mean,” she agrees.

“Okay, good. Well he’s kind. He-” Steve sniffs. “He called me a good dude.”

“Well,” Claudia says, smiling, “you are.”

Steve chuckles wetly. “I am now, maybe, but I wasn’t when we knew each other in high school, and I didn’t really expect him to say anything. And he’s so passionate, Mom, and he’s talented, and he’s selfless, but that backfired because it landed him here-”

Claudia hums, strokes a hand through his hair. “How long have you liked him?” He stiffens. “Oh, please, like I haven’t known this entire time. Honestly, Steve, I’m not an idiot. And I’m not some backwards idiot especially who thinks two boys who love each other are the greatest sin.”

“No, it- Mom, you love Robin, of course you’re fine with it, I just- I didn’t… I didn’t realize.”

“Oh, Stevie,” she sighs, running her hand through his hair again. “When he gets out, are you gonna do something about it?”

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Maybe. If- if he even wants to be friends-”

“Okay, now I know you’re talking crazy,” she teases him, grinning.

Just then Hopper walks in, looking around with wide eyes, stopping when he sees Steve. “Dad!” Steve yelps, standing and walking quickly towards him, stopping about three steps in. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters, because he knows the way the room is spinning and his vision is going out.

He’s out before he hits the ground.

He wakes up later to find he didn’t hit the ground, actually; Hopper had leapt forward and caught him the second he’d stopped walking and started swaying.

He blinks bleary eyes open and finds himself looking at a ceiling tile. “What-”

“Don’t move,” comes Hopper’s voice from beside him.

He turns his head to frown at him. “Dad? What happened?”

“You passed out. Jumped outta Claudia’s arms like she’d burned you when you saw me. Much as I love you, kid, the parent’s gotta go first this time, ‘kay? No more self-sacrificing bullshit and not getting medical attention when you need it.”

“M’kay,” Steve says. “Sorry, Dad.”

Hopper puts a hand on his head. It’s comforting. “Go to sleep, kid.”

When he wakes up again, he’s more lucid. He looks around, sees Claudia asleep in the chair next to him. Looks on his other side, and his breath catches when he sees Eddie. His eyes are closed, he’s still asleep, but he’s alive.

“Mom,” he whispers, tearing his eyes away from Eddie to look at her. He feels bad, a little, waking her, but only a little because he knows she’d tear him a new one if he didn’t. “Mom.”

She starts awake and tears up when she sees him. “Stevie,” she murmurs, cradling his face with her hand.

“Mom,” he says again. “He’s here.”

Claudia chuckles. “You can thank your father and I for that one. We raised hell.”

“I bet you did,” he says appreciatively.

“And you, young man,” she says, too full of love to really be mean, “next time you tell me when you’ve been half eaten, okay? Or have you forgotten I’m a nurse?”

“Didn’t forget,” he murmurs, nudging her hand with his face. “Just wanted to stay with you.”

“Oh, Steve,” she murmurs. “You beautiful boy.”

He falls asleep again.

He wakes up again later and looks over to see Eddie also awake, and also looking at him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

It’s hard to tell from where he is, but it looks like Eddie’s blushing. “Looks like I’ve got you to thank for saving my life.”

Now Steve’s blushing. “Ah,” he eloquently says. “No, I mean, just- what anyone else would do?”

“Are you asking me?”

Oh, god, is he teasing? Steve barely survived the flirting before, but now there’s nothing else to keep his attention off Eddie, nothing else he can blame the blush on. “…I just didn’t do much,” he belatedly says.

“Bullshit.” He shifts and hisses in pain. “Fuck, those bastards got me good. But that- that’s proof, y’know?”

Steve blinks. He doesn’t know. “What?”

Eddie grins at him. The stitches in his cheek pull, but don’t tear. “That you saved me.”

Abruptly, Steve tears up. He looks away, up at the ceiling, wills the tears to stay inside. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you-”

“No,” he answers quickly. Too quickly. There’s an awkward silence now. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I- I felt your heart stop, okay?” He looks over again, knows the tears are there, knowing they’re leaking into his hairline and across the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t sure the doctors were even gonna try that hard to save you. And now you’re joking with me, and-” he takes a quick breath, holds it. Releases it slowly. “‘M just glad you’re okay,” he finally says.

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly. “I, uh. Didn’t think you really… cared. About me.”

“I think I care more than I should.”

Eddie takes a breath. “I’m about to say something way too brave, and I’m only saying it ‘cause we’re both in hospital beds and I’m assuming you can’t just, like, walk over and punch me.”

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. But, uh. Anyways. I don’t… people don’t care about me. My uncle Wayne does, sure, and the kids, but that’s different, and- well. I’ll take whatever care you wanna give me. It won’t be too much.”

“Okay,” Steve says, “well I definitely don’t want to punch you for that, what the hell, but I hope you know you’re gonna get hugged for that as soon as I figure out how to undo all this shit.” He gestures to the tubes in his arms, and Eddie starts to laugh, then stops just as quickly with a hiss.

“Okay, abs got eaten, no laughing,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Shit, dude, stay in bed, you had like five people in here earlier who all told me specifically to not let you out of bed, though how I’m supposed to do that I dunno.”

Steve blinks over at him. “Five?”

“Well- four, now that I count. Dustin was here with his mom, he’s getting released later but was allowed out of bed for a minute and came to see us. Robin, and she looked angry, are you two, like, okay?”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, she’s just worried.”

“And then Chief Hopper, which- do you wanna explain why the actual Chief of Police was in here?”

“Ah,” Steve says, and blushes again. “He kinda, like… adopted me? Not officially, obviously, but he’s… well, I call him dad, so-”

“And Claudia?”

Steve hums. “‘S my mom. Dust’s my brother.”

Eddie snorts. “Jesus, Harrington, d’you just go around collecting people to call your parents? How many d’you have now, four?”

“Nah, just two. My parents fucked off pretty permanently by the time I was nine. And before that I had nannies when they were gone.”

Eddie blinks at him. “You- wait. Back up. You’ve been alone for the entirety of high school?”

Steve thinks. “I mean, I had Hopper, kinda, but that was before he became Dad, so… I guess?”

“Goddamn,” Eddie whispers wonderingly. “And you’re still sane?”

Steve snorts. “Jury’s out on that one, I mean I do willingly hang out with the twerps, so-”

“Fuck, don’t make me laugh, man.” He sighs. “I get it, though,” he says quietly. “Mom was an angel, but… Dad got to her, y’know? Tore her wings off, rubbed her halo in the dirt. Poured alcohol down her throat until she was dependent on it. And him. And when she-” he shakes his head. “Then it was just Dad, and he got sent away ‘cause apparently his new car wasn’t his, y’know? And I went to live with Wayne at twelve.”

“But now you’ve got Wayne.”

“Mhm.” He smiles a little. “Call ’im pops sometimes, ‘cause he’s my real dad now. Sometimes Wayne, sometimes Uncle Wayne. He doe’n’t care much.”

“What’s it like? Living with him?”

“It’s been a dream, honestly. He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met, and he’s got patience to rival a saint. Doesn’t care when I play my music loud, or forget to eat, or bring boy—uh, girls—over.”

Steve hums. “There’s still the house in Loch Nora, but I stay with the Hendersons most days. I tend to bring people I meet to Loch Nora, just ‘cause it’s empty, y’know? I mean, Dust’s a little shit, and he’d tease me regardless of who I brought home. Mom wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d probably give me a condom and lube,” he laughs. “And she’s teaching Dustin to be the same way. He’ll get there one day.”

“He’s a twerp,” Eddie agrees. “I didn’t know you, uh-”

“Mhm,” Steve answers. “Robin says I’m like Bowie.”

“Like Bowie- you’re bisexual?”

“That’s the one!” Steve says happily. “I can never remember the name.”

Eddie looks at him wonderingly. “Who are you, Steve Harrington?”

Eventually they get out of the hospital, and eventually they stop circling around each other. Eventually they kiss, and fall asleep on the couch, and make each other breakfast, and do certain things behind closed doors that Steve still can’t think about without blushing.

Eventually they’re outside the Munson’s trailer, working in the garden that Eddie, surprisingly, loved.

“Imma go in,” Steve says eventually. “Get a drink.”

“Alright,” Eddie says, not looking up from where he’s pulling weeds near his tomatoes. “I’ll be here.”

Steve has a bit of a headache already, and he knows drastic temperature changes don’t help. He didn’t think the trailer was that big of a difference, but it’s cool enough he’s got goosebumps breaking out along his arms almost immediately. Then he’s hit with a blast of freezing air when he opens the fridge, and his head begins to throb. “Fuck,” he mutters, shutting the door and grabbing for a glass, hoping the sink water isn’t too cold.

It’s cooler than he’d like, but it’s all he’s got right now, and he knows if he doesn’t hydrate it’s going to end up worse. He chugs two glasses, sets the cup down, and goes to sit at the table, rubbing his eyes.

It gets worse almost without him realizing: one second his relatively fine, the next he’s groaning in pain, trying to block out all the light by laying his head on his forearm.

A hand on his back startles him. “Dee?”

“Wayne,” comes the gruff voice. “Not Eddie. Y’got a migraine?”

“Mhm.”

“Y’take anything for it?”

Steve waves a hand. “Had water.”

Wayne leaves for a minute, comes back and presses two pills into Steve’s hand. A glass of water is placed in front of him.

He takes the pills, squinting, and lays his head back down.

“Nuh-uh,” Wayne says, “up you get, c’mon, you’re sleepin’ this off.” Hands at his shoulders guide him out of his seat, shuffle him slowly down the hall to Eddie’s cool, dark room. Lay him down and pull the blankets over him.

Steve sighs and relaxes into the bed, cracking an eye open to look at Wayne. “Thanks, Pops,” he murmurs, then winces when Wayne freezes. “S’rry. Wayne.”

Wayne pets a hand through Steve’s hair. “Pops works just fine,” he says. “I’ll tell Ed you’re in here.”

“M’kay,” Steve breathes, and lets himself fall asleep.

They’re at Hopper’s cabin, an annual We Saved the World semi-party that usually ends in at least one disagreement.

Eddie’s got most of the kids corralled away in the living room, with promises of an epic one-shot. The adults, Steve, Max, and El are in the kitchen.

He doesn’t know who started it, but someone teases him, and Hopper ruffles his hair with another jab. “Dad,” he complains good-naturedly, laughing.

“Steve?” El asks.

“Yeah?” He looks at her.

“Hopper is your dad.”

Steve glances at Hopper, who’s listening, but making no move to answer. “I mean… not, like, biologically, but yeah.”

“Me too,” El says. “Are you my brother, then?”

Steve flounders. “I- I guess if you want me to be?”

“You’re a good brother to Dustin,” she answers. “I haven’t had any good brothers besides Will, and we are the same age. I would like a good older brother.”

He smiles, tugs her into a hug. “I guess I’m your brother, then.”

She goes willingly. “Does that mean Joyce is your mom too?” She looks up at him, big eyes serious. “She is a good mom.”

“Uh,” Steve says, “that’s kinda up to Joyce.”

“Oh, honey,” Joyce says, because of course everyone had stopped talking the moment El had started. “Why don’t you call me Mama J?”

Steve smiles bashfully, accepting her hug. “Sounds good to me.”

When he tells Eddie later, his boyfriend laughs. “You really do collect parents!”

[hongjoongtime117]

Jenga and Jealousy

Pairings: Kim Hongjoong/Reader, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung

Genre: SMUT (MDNI 18+)

Word count: 12.6k

Warnings: choking, orgasm denial, Hongjoong is heavily tattooed and pierced, reader is a brat, unprotected sex (wrap it up, pleaseeee!), drinking, oral (F/M receiving), phone sex (sort of?), jealous Kim Hongjoong, pet names (baby, gorgeous, pretty, Kitten), Hongjoong has a Captain kink. Lemme know if I missed anything? lol

Summary: Wooyoung and San attempt to be your wingmen and invite Hongjoong over for a game night. Spicy Jenga makes for a jealous Hongjoong.

SPECIAL THANKS TO @mlwood1498 for helping with the spice when my brain was STUCK

“Yah! Y/N! We’re having a friend over tonight for drinks and games. You cool with that?” Wooyoung shouts from the kitchen where he’s making breakfast for him and San. You go to join him in the kitchen, Wooyoung’s cooking making your mouth water.

“I mean, I guess that depends on which friend, Woo” you sigh, already knowing it’s gonna happen whether you’d like it to or not. He was only asking out of courtesy. “Did you make some for me, too?” You plead with a pout and big doe eyes you know he can’t say no to.

“Pftt, of course I did. I definitely don’t want you in the kitchen. You almost burned down the entire apartment in your previous attempt to cook” he says, rolling his eyes ever so dramatically. “And the friend is Kim Hongjoong. Ya know, the one you’re always eye fucking?”

Your cheeks turn hot from the blush creeping across them, and San howls with laughter.

“I do NOT!” you scowl as you smack Wooyoung on the shoulder.

He turns away from the stove to face you and sees your bright red face. “I’d say the tomato color you're currently sporting tells me otherwise” a soft, veiny hand coming to pinch your cheeks.

“Yeah, Y/N. You make it so obvious” San says through his giggles. “Listen, we’re just trying to potentially be your wingmen tonight.”

“I dont NEED wingmen, you assholes!”

“Y/N, when was the last time you got a good dick down?” Wooyoung is looking at you, an eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer.

“Look, I don’t have a live in fuck toy” your eyes motioning between him and San. “It’s… been a while” you sigh dejectedly.

“Yeah, Y/N, we knew that. Which is why we’re trying to be good besties here and help you out. Even though you just called me a fuck toy” San says, feigning offense.

“Looks like we’re getting Y/N some dick tonight” Wooyoung lets out his high pitched cackle.

“I never even agreed to this” you whine. “And I think maybe you should pay more attention to your cooking than my sex life, before you burn the apartment down.”

“Just think about it, Y/N. We’re obviously not gonna force you into anything” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Does he even know the intentions of having him over? How do you know he’d even be down for it? And how would you even know if he’s gonna be a good fuck?” You shoot your questions to Wooyoung and San a million miles a minute.

“First off, Y/N. He has an idea of why he’s coming over. Second, if you weren’t drooling like a dog over that man, you would also notice the way he eye fucks you right back. So I know he’s more than down. I just didn’t want to give him any expectations, in case, ya know, you were gonna turn down some dick from the man of your dreams.”

Wooyoung always has to tease. God, you can’t stand him sometimes.

“And as far as your third question, I’m not going to go into too much detail on how I know. Just know that I do.”

After the three of you finish breakfast (which was amazing of course, living with Wooyoung was like having a personal chef) you head to your room and flop down on your comfy bed. You unlock your phone and open instagram to mindlessly scroll for a bit. Except the moment you open it, Kim Hongjoong is staring back at you.

You stare, open mouthed, at the insanely gorgeous photo he’s posted. His dark brown undercut styled perfectly. The wink, further drawing you in with his long, pretty eyelashes and the eyebrow piercing bringing attention to his well shaped brows. The simple diamond stud adorning his left nostril. The neck tattoos peeking from the collar of his button up. And at last, the part of the photo that had you thinking that maybe this night might not be such a bad idea after all. His pierced tongue poking through his perfect set of teeth and plump, shiny, also pierced lips.

You lock your phone and toss it across your bed. You scream into your pillow with frustration, thoughts of what Hongjoong could do with that pretty mouth flooding your brain. How good that sharp nose would feel against your clit as you ride his face, fucking into you with his (most likely) very experienced, jeweled tongue. The thoughts made the temperature in the room become increasingly uncomfortable.

“Fuck, I need to get a grip” you say to yourself as you push yourself up until you’re sitting on your knees in the middle of your bed. The bed that may soon be occupied with you and Hongjoong, playing out your current fantasies.

You rummage through your messy dresser drawers in search of something sexy and unexpected to put under the baggy sweats and sweatshirt you were planning on wearing tonight. After some digging around, you find your full body leather harness that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. This way, if things go right, Hongjoong will be pleasantly surprised. And if this doesn't go as planned, you don’t look like you were desperate for his touch.

At the particular moment you decide to toss the harness onto you bed, Wooyoung and San decide to burst into your room, unannounced.

“Ya, have yall ever heard of knocking? Scared the shit out of me! And what if I was standing here naked!?”

“Relax, Y/N. It’s nothing we haven’t seen before” Wooyoung says casually, ignoring your dramatics. “Besides, the only person I’m really interested in seeing naked is San. And maybe Hongjoong.”

San raises an eyebrow and side eyes Wooyoung. “You can’t be for real, Woo?”

“What!? I've heard some things and I wanna know if they’re true. That’s all.” Wooyoung shrugs, as if that’s something completely normal to say in front of your boyfriend.

“Wait, what kind of things?” you ask, curiosity lighting you on fire.

“Y/N, I already told you, you aren’t getting a word out of me. And from the looks of what you’ve got picked out, you’re planning on finding out for yourself.” He nods his head to your chosen fit for the night.

“Is that all you’re wearing tonight?” San seems a little surprised, as you’re usually not that forward. “Kinda just screams ‘I’m desperate, come fuck me now’” he chuckles.

“No, you fucking dummy! I’m wearing sweats and a sweatshirt over it!”

“Ahh, get him with the element of surprise. Ok, I see you, Y/N.” Wooyoung smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“What the hell did you guys even come in here for in the first place?”

“Oh, we wanted to know if you wanted to go to the store with us to grab snacks and drinks for tonight. We’re leaving in 5.” San takes Wooyoung by the hand and they head back to the living room.

You throw on a simple graphic tee and ripped black jeans for your endeavor to the store. You head to meet San and Wooyoung in the living room. “Ok, let’s goooo!”

The entire ten minute ride to the store consisted of Wooyoung and San hounding you with questions about the evening that was about to unfold.

“So you’re really about to let us be your wingmen tonight, huh?”

“Wooyoung, I swear to God if you don’t shut up. I’m going to spend the entire night in my room.”

“Aw, come on Y/N. I know Hongjoong is really looking forward to tonight.” San joining in on Wooyoung’s teasing as your cheeks begin to turn a rosy pink.

“Ugh, let’s just go grab what we need and get back home. I’m in desperate need of a shower” you sigh as Wooyoung parks the car.

You guys grab a cart and begin filling it with an array of chips and candy. San tosses in a box of pepero.

You shoot San a questioning glance. “And what are those for, San?”

“Oh, you already know Y/N,” a mischievous smirk spreading across his face.

You give yourself a harsh face palm and slide your hand down your face. They really were trying incredibly hard to make tonight’s tensions as high a possible.

Heading into the aisles of alcohol, Wooyoung picks up the cheapest, probably most vile option he could find for vodka. “This should work!”

“Woo, that’s literally the worst option out of everything here!”

“Duh, Y/N, it’s supposed to be a punishment, not enjoyable.”

“Punishment?” A perplexed look crosses your face.

“Yeah, we’re playing a game with certain challenges. But if you decide not to follow through, your punishment is a double shot of this shit,” he says waving the bottle in his hand. “Among other rules we’ll explain when Hongjoong arrives.”

“Why do I not trust this?”

Defeated, the three of you head to go check out with the massive amount of snacks and the bottle of alcohol you’ve thrown into the cart.

Upon returning home, you help San and Wooyoung unpack everything and you rush to your room in order to get yourself prepared for tonight’s events. You definitely need an ‘everything’ shower.

You step into your private bathroom, and turn the shower on to a comfortable setting. You’re going to be there for a while. This is the first time you’ve gotten laid in at least a year. First impressions matter, and you wanted to make a damn good one on Hongjoong.

Stepping under the warm water, calming your nerves just a little, you lather yourself with your favorite vanilla and jasmine soap. You deep condition your hair (if his hands end up in it, you want him to enjoy the feel of your soft hair). You make sure everything is smoothly shaven. You hop out and lather yourself with your matching body lotion and wrap your fluffy towel around you to head back to your room.

Staring at the leather contraption on the bed, you realize you’ve never actually worn this particular item before.

“Hey, fuckers! I need help!” you shout through the apartment.

“San and Wooyoung at your service” both bowing as they enter your room and try to stop the giggles from escaping.

You hand them the puzzling pieces of leather and wonder why you even bother wearing anything at all at this point.

“I can’t figure this out,” you whine, a pout decorating your lips.

“Oh, I’ve got this!” Woo says ever so cockily. “Drop the towel, babe.”

Hesitant for a second, you remember that being roommates for so long, they’ve definitely seen their fair share of your body, so you toss your towel aside.

San and Wooyoung work quietly, bending, twisting, poking, and prodding you until you’re fully situated in the body harness, that does nothing to cover, and everything to accentuate.

Wooyoung turns you around to admire their work. San lets out an appreciative whistle. “If Hongjoong doesn’t fuck you stupid once he sees this, he’s insane.”

“Ok, ok, get out now!” You hurry them out of your bedroom, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Hongjoong is supposed to arrive in a half an hour. You’ve got to throw on your sweats and sweatshirt, and try to relax and calm yourself before the man of the hour shows up. You busy yourself with prepping the snacks for the night.

As soon as you’ve spread out the snacks, vodka, and shot glasses on the glass coffee table, you sit down, nerves finally calm, and the doorbell chimes loudly, startling you.

“Hey, Y/N you want to go answer that?” San says cheekily.

“Do I have a choice?” you banter back, rolling your eyes.

You shove yourself off the couch and head across the living room to make your way to the door. You take a deep breath before carefully opening it, finally coming face to face with Hongjoong. He flashes you a smile with those perfect teeth and you catch yourself looking at the lip ring shining right in the middle of his plump bottom lip. God, those lips look so kissable. He’s dressed in a black button up and dark denim Levi’s.

“Hey, Y/N!” his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hey, Hongjoong!” You smile back as you step aside to let him in. He kicks off his heeled boots and sets them by the door.

He follows you into the living room, where Wooyoung and San are comfortably spread out on the larger couch, leaving the small love seat to you and Hongjoong. Nice play, boys.

“Hey, Joong!” the boys greet in unison.

“Hey! Thanks for inviting me over. I’m excited to have a night to relax. I’m usually so busy working on music that I just don’t ever have time to do stuff like this!”

“Of course! Sit back and relax, man.” Wooyoung gestures to the love seat that you’re currently standing behind.

He plops down and makes himself comfortable. All three of them have noticed you still have yet to move from your spot. Hongjoong tilts his head back to look at you, his exposed, tattooed neck looking really suckable right about now.

“You can come sit with me. I don’t bite. Unless, ya know, you’re into that sort of thing? I don’t judge,” he snickers, and again, for the nth time tonight, your cheeks heat up with blush.

You sit down next to him, hugging your knees to your chest, as that’s your most comfortable way to sit. “Don’t start your shit, Kim Hongjoong.”

“Ooo, someone’s feisty!” he teases, and you lightly smack his arm. Just from the slight impact, you can tell he’s got some impressive arms under his button up. San and Wooyoung are watching the whole thing unfold and can’t help but howl with laughter at the exchange.

As the laughter from the two dies down, Wooyoung suggests putting on a movie. “How about a scary movie, Y/N? Your favorite!”

You shoot Woo the most evil side eye you can manage. Your roommates know you despise scary movies.

Hongjoong notices the interaction and begins to taunt you. “What? Are you scared Y/N?”

“Pffftt, no? Why would I be scared? It’s just a movie.”

Hongjoong gives a knowing smile and you’re definitely going to make Wooyoung pay for this later.

San and Wooyoung get comfortable on the couch and the intro to the movie begins. Hongjoong decides to make himself comfortable as well, turning so his back is resting against the arm of the love seat, one foot on the floor, the other resting gently behind you.

“Come here, Y/N, relax a little.” Hongjoong puts his arms around your waist and pulls you to sit between his legs, your back resting against his well defined chest. He wrestles a blanket hanging from the back of the couch and places it over the two of you. He nuzzles into your neck and you can hear him sharply inhale.

“Damn, Y/N, you smell amazing,” he whispers into your ear, and the ghost of breath that tickles your ear gives you goosebumps and sends shivers down your spine.

You try to ignore your growing arousal at being so close to him. “Pay attention to the movie, Joong” you whisper back.

The moment you both focus your attention back to the screen is the very moment a scene makes you jump and you pull the blanket over your face, partly to hide your embarrassment, and partly from fear.

You hear Hongjoong chuckling lowly in your ear. “It’s just a movie, right Y/N? Not scared, my ass.”

You return his teasing by repositioning yourself onto your side and placing a harsh bite right to his bicep. His eyes widen just a bit, and you see the fire ignite in them behind his long lashes. He snakes his arm up your body and places his hand, decorated with tattoos and rings on your throat, not squeezing, but resting it there, and he feels you gulp.

His voice vibrating against your ear that is now resting against his chest, “Mmm, so you do enjoy biting. You better be careful, Kitten.” he warns.

Through the remainder of the movie his hand stays placed on your neck, rubbing against the unmarked skin with his thumb. You hadn’t paid attention to a damn thing that happened in that movie since he wrapped that pretty custom necklace around you.

The credits begin rolling and you receive a quizzical look from Wooyoung and San. “What are you guys doing over there?”

“Someone doesn’t know how to keep their teeth to themselves.” Hongjoong says with a cocky smirk.

“Oh, yeah. That doesn’t surprise me. She learned from the best, see?” Wooyoung giggles as he grabs San’s arm and sinks his teeth into his forearm.

“Yah, Woo! What the fuck was that for?”

“Since when do I ever have a reason for biting? It’s just fun!” Wooyoung simply says with a shrug

Hongjoong is amused by the quarrel between the two boyfriends.

“I have to agree with you, Woo. It’s definitely fun.” You hear the mischief in his voice before you even realize what’s happening. He tilts your head to the side and nips the bare skin of your neck. This elicits a moan from you and you quickly slap your hand over your mouth. “Mmm, so responsive, Kitten.”

Wooyoung leaves the comfort of San’s lap, stands up and claps his hands together, pulling you from the trance Hongjoong has placed you in. “Ok, who’s ready for drinks and drunk Jenga!?”

“What the fuck is drunk Jenga, Woo?” curiosity coming through in your voice.

“Ok, here. Let me explain. So me and San have taken the liberty of writing little challenges on each of the blocks. So when you pull your block, you either do what the block says, or take your punishment, in the form of two shots. If you knock the tower down, you must sit in the lap of another player for the rest of the game. The others get to decide who.”

“Alright, let’s get the real party started!” exclaims Hongjoong.

Wooyoung heads to grab the game while everyone else repositions themselves in their spots to have better access to the coffee table.

Wooyoung returns and begins setting up the blocks, while you try sneaking a peek at what’s written on them.

“Yah! Y/N, if you try cheating, I’m gonna give you your punishment now!”

“Ok, ok. I’ll behave!” Hongjoong snickers next to you.

“And what exactly is so funny, Joong?”

“You saying you’ll behave. That might be true. For the moment.” He leans to whisper into your ear “But I’m planning on changing that, Kitten.” The pet name made your head spin and your pussy throb.

With the game finally set up, it’s a battle of rock, paper, scissors to find out who is the first victim of the Jenga blocks. This of course happens to be you.

You kneel in front of the coffee table and steady your hands to pull out a block. San and Wooyoung know you are the worst at Jenga. Despite that, you expertly pull a block from near the top of the stack and internally face palm yourself.

“Feed someone a sip” you read aloud.

San and Wooyoung are whooping with excitement and they both immediately decide that this will be a challenge for you and Hongjoong.

“You ok with that, Joong?” asks San.

“Yeah, of course. I’m not a pussy.” he snickers.

You roll your eyes at his cockiness and pour a shot of the vile alcohol. Shot in hand, you straddle Hongjoong’s lap, taking him by surprise.

“Not so cocky now, huh, Joongi?” mischievous grin spreading across your face. Your free hand roughly grips his chin and tilts his head back, his eyes widening in shock as he bites his plump, pink lips.

“Open up for me Joong” you assert in a very seductive tone. He does as told, and you pour the shot into his waiting mouth. He swallows and lets out a noise confirming his distaste for the bitter spirit.

You press yourself against him and lower your lips to his ear. “Good boy” your breath ghosts against him.

Wooyoung is loving your controlling behavior towards Hongjoong and is smacking San’s leg, trying to control himself from embarrassing you and ruining your feisty streak. You slowly climb off Hongjoong’s lap and reclaim your spot next to him on the loveseat. Hongjoong is still speechless and reeling from the pet name. After a few moments, he murmurs out a soft “fuck, I’m in for a hell of a night” to himself.

“Didn’t expect Y/N to give you a run for your money did you, Joong?” Wooyoung giving his best witch cackle.

“I mean, she’s always so quiet and shy. But they do say those are the ones you should watch out for. I should have known better. It’s ok, two can play that game, right Kitten?” Hongjoong shoots you a sideways glance.

You pressing your thighs together to help control the heat that is radiating from your core doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He’s not the only one in for a long night.

Next is San’s turn.

“Slap an ass. Oh come on, why did we even put this? This is too easy! We’re all in agreement that this is a Woo and I challenge?”

“Absolutely” you and Hongjoong agree together.

“How do you want me, Sannie?” Wooyoung urges.

“Hmmm, let’s make it a little more interesting shall we? Pants down and across my lap, Youngie.”

Wooyoung’s cheeks flush red at the request, but follows San’s orders and pulls his pants down enough to give San full access to his firm, toned ass, and climbs across San’s lap, ass in the air.

“Awww, don’t be shy now. You know you enjoy the attention, baby.”

Wooyoung whines low in his throat at the comment and prepares himself. San gently rubs Wooyoung’s cheeks before pulling his arm back as far as possible and landing an extremely hard, loud slap to Wooyoung’s right ass cheek. He lets out a whiny moan at the impact and buries his face as best as he can to hide the fucked out look he probably has on his face right now.

“Don’t hide. Stand up, pretty, let them see.”

San helps him stand and turns him around, ass on display for you and Hongjoong.

“He’s not gonna be able to sit for like a week, San. Damn.” Hongjoong lets out a long whistle at the bright red, swollen handprint adorning Wooyoung’s ass.

“He’s usually used to this shit by now, but like damn, that’s an impressive one, for sure, San” you add.

San pulls Wooyoung’s boxers and pants back up and Wooyoung kneels at the coffee table to take his turn. Wooyoung pulls a block from near the bottom of the stack, the tower wavering a little, but he manages to pull it out without incident.

“Lick? Mmm, shirt off, Sannie.”

San quickly pulls his shirt off and tosses it somewhere onto the floor. He places his huge arms across the back of the couch and spreads his legs. Wooyoung drops to his knees in front of San and lightly runs his hands up his thighs to rest on his petite waist. Wooyoung licks his lips, and San looks down at them, adoring his singular dot that embellishes his bottom one. Wooyoung then takes his wet, slippery tongue and starts from San’s navel, languidly licking up the middle of his body. He runs his tongue right up the middle of his rock hard abs. He stands, tongue never leaving his boyfriend's body, and perches himself on San’s lap while continuing to run his hands up his body, rubbing his thumbs over San’s perked nipples, as his tongue finally reaches his neck.

San moans at the sensation and Wooyoung can feel his dick twitch beneath him.

“Mmm, you like that, Sannie?” Wooyoung hums in his ear.

San takes a hand and places it on Wooyoung’s neck, pushing him back gently. “Stop being a brat, Youngie.”

You catch movement from Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye, and you can tell he’s desperately trying to regain some confront from the bulge that’s forming in his jeans from the Woosan interaction. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely drenched from watching them either.

“Damn, I’m feeling a little lonely over here” teases Hongjoong, eyes dark.

“Well, it’s your turn next, Joong. See what fate lies for you in the Jenga blocks.” Wooyoung nods to the tower in the middle of the coffee table.

“Alright, here goes nothing!” Again, another amazing player at Jenga, Hongjoong plucks the block from the tower easily.

“Blowjob shot?” he reads with a raised eyebrow. “Ok, so who am I taking this off of?”

“I vote Woo!” you and San blurt out at the same time. Hongjoong chuckles in amusement and pours a shot bringing it over to Wooyoung to get started on their challenge.

“You aren’t gonna back out Joongi?” you say playfully.

“Kitten, I never back down from a dare.” Still half hard, he taps Wooyoung’s knee to get him to spread his legs enough for him to fit himself in between them and places the shot glass onto his lap. He crosses his hands behind his back and places his pierced lips around the top of the glass and tosses his head back, downing the shot effortlessly.

“Damn, that was fucking hot” you whisper breathlessly.

You are a mess right now. And if the smirk on Hongjoong’s face when he heads back to sink into his spot next to you is any indication, he knows.

Hongjoong’s inked hand grips your thigh tightly, too close to where you want them, but not close enough. “Looks like we’re back to you, Y/N.”

You study the tower, looking for a block to pull that’s not going to cause the tower to crumble. You find the perfect one and slip it out of its spot.

“Body shot! Ok, this one is actually kind of fun.”

San and Wooyoung give you a look and you already know once again that you’re paired with Hongjoong for this challenge.

Running his jeweled tongue over his perfect lips, he quips “Body shots are definitely fun Y/N. Let’s do it.”

You stand to grab the bottle of death from the table as Hongjoong lays himself across the love seat, hands behind his head that’s resting on the arm.

“Gotta unbutton the shirt, Y/N” he gestures cockily with his eyes to the neatly pressed button down.

You roll your eyes at him, climb onto his muscular thighs, and begin working the buttons, starting from the top. When you make it towards the bottom of his neatly tucked shirt, you pull it from his pants and slide it off of him.

The sight before you makes your jaw drop slightly. His intricately tattooed chest, and huge pecs lead you right to his perked nipples, each sporting a metal barbell. Your tongue tingles and mouth waters with the need to taste and tease them. Hongjoong moves his legs a bit to snap you back to reality.

“Like what you see, huh Y/N?” devilish smirk playing across his lips. “You’ve still got a challenge to complete.”

You can feel your body heating up as you slide further down to position yourself comfortably enough to pour the shot into his navel and take it. As you go to pour it, two things stop you in your tracks. The first, the dangly chrome silver star bringing attention to where your mouth is soon to be. The second, the sailor font showing just over the waistband of his dark denim jeans. The strength of your curiosity outweighs any rational thought, as you pull his waistband down just enough to see the full script.

“Captain?” you quirk up an eyebrow.

“It was a dare,” he shrugs. “And I told you I will never back down from a dare, Kitten. But, focus now. You’re keeping everyone waiting.”

Without further hesitation, you pour the bitter liquid into his navel and very slowly and deliberately lap it up. Hongjoong removes his hands from behind his head, placing one on the back of yours as you continue to lick and suck, knowing damn well the shot is long gone. Hongjoong is fully hard as he grips your hair, gently lifting you off of his abdomen and looking through his long lashes, down at you with hunger filled eyes.

“I think it’s gone now, Y/N” he manages to breathe out.

“Damn Y/N, you trying to suck his soul out through his belly button?” Wooyoung pesters.

“Yeah, you did a number on him just now” says San, having to add in his two cents, of course.

“I was just doing the challenge, like you guys said” you brush off their teasing as you clamber off Hongjoong so he can move his legs to give you back your spot on the love seat.

“Hell of a way to do that, Y/N” Hongjoong spits out.

The rotation has made its way back to San who pulls a ‘dicks drink’ block. All three men pour their shots and down them, less than enthusiastic.

“God, that really does taste like shit” Wooyoung chokes out.

“Told you, asshole!” you say, giggling at their suffering.

Next up is Wooyoung, carefully choosing his block as they are becoming fewer, and the possibility of the tower crashing down becomes greater. A playful smile fills his face as he shows the group the block reading ‘Pepero game’. Wooyoung leans to whisper into San’s ear, and he definitely enjoyed what he heard.

“Ok, since me and San have already decided, and majority rules in this game, Y/N, come here. You’re doing this one with me.” Your eyes widen but you honestly aren’t the least bit surprised. Wooyoung has always loved stirring the pot.

You raise yourself from the loveseat and head over to Wooyoung, Pepero already waiting in his mouth. San scoots over a bit, giving Wooyoung room to scoot over, so you can sit comfortably next to him. As you sit, your eyes glance over at Hongjoong for a brief moment, noticing his tense posture and the clench of his jaw.

Feeding off the fact that you know Hongjoong is becoming increasingly jealous, you take Wooyoung’s face in your hands, and the Pepero into your mouth. You take small, slow bites, the stick disappearing between your lips until they’re centimeters from Wooyoung’s. You close the almost nonexistent gap between the two of you, and press your lips to his. The kiss starts off leisurely, but grows needy rather quickly. You and Wooyoung sharing moans into each others mouths. You partly blame the alcohol. And the rest of the blame goes to Hongjoong, for working you up the entire night.

San sees how hot things are getting between the two of you, and Hongjoong’s extremely pissed off expression that he’s trying unsuccessfully to hide, and decides to interject.

“Alright, challenge over you two!”

San is pulling Wooyoung back and your lips part with a wet pop. You both are panting, trying to catch your breath. In spite of Hongjoong’s jealousy, he is insanely hard, and is fighting every voice in his mind to take you right now in front of San and Wooyoung, and let them know who you really belong to.

You happily make your way back over to Hongjoong, knowing you have very successfully riled him up.

“How ya feeling, Joongi?”

He turns himself on the loveseat, grips your neck in warning, cold rings giving you chills, pulls your ear to his mouth and growls.

“Oh, you thought that shit was cute, huh Y/N?”

Gulping at the suddenness of his aggressive behavior, but being the brat that you are, you decide to see how far you can push his buttons.

“Judging from the way your dick is straining against your jeans, I’d say you thought so too, Joong.”

“I’d watch your mouth if I was you, Kitten.”

“Hmm, does it do tricks?” you say with a giggle as you go cross eyed attempting to look at your own mouth. Hongjoong lets out an exasperated growl and pushes you away by the throat.

He turns his attention back to the tower on the table and seals his fate for his turn.

“Kiss. Hmmm, since I’m the guest tonight, I’m vetoing the majority rules.”

There’s a fire in his eyes as he beckons San over. “San, come here.”

San opens and closes his mouth a few times, thinking of protesting, but heads over to you and Hongjoong on the loveseat.

Hongjoong stands just before San reaches him, and grabs San by the shirt and aggressively throws him onto the seat next to you. He knows you’re just as riled up as he is, and he’s gonna make you watch. Payback is a bitch. Hongjoong perches himself onto San’s lap and you and Wooyoung exchange shocked glances.

Hongjoong wraps his arms around San’s neck and begins lapping and leaving hot, wet kisses from his neck, to his ear, along his sharp, defined jawline, until he makes it to San’s lips. San is losing any ounce of control as he grabs Hongjoong’s tiny waist, as Hongjoong begins grinding against him, seeking the slightest bit of friction to help his raging hard on. San and Hongjoong are a mess of teeth, tongue, saliva, and throaty moans, and you’re convinced if Hongjoong was pantless, they would absolutely be fucking each other right here in front of you and Wooyoung.

Nothing can hide just how aroused you are at this point, a wet patch soaking through your sweatpants. Wooyoung doesn’t seem to be faring any better. You know how much he enjoys watching, so this is torture for him. Hongjoong finally parts from San, resting their foreheads together with a breathy ‘fuck’, and Wooyoung lets out a low whine.

“Haha, that’s karma for you two” San grins, looking at you and Wooyoung.

“That’s so unfair” you squeak out.

Hongjoong slips off of where he was perched on San’s lap, allowing him to return to his very horny boyfriend on the opposite couch. Hongjoong notices the wet spot you’re currently dealing with and shows a toothy smile.

“Judging from that nice wet spot, I bet you thought that shit was cute, huh?” throwing your words back at you.

“Fuck you, Joong.”

“Oh, you will.”

You shoot him daggers as you go to pull yet another block from the dwindling tower.

“Strip and sit on someone’s lap for a turn. Really guys?” you whimper.

“Yes, really. And me and Youngie have already decided whose lap that’s gonna be. Come here, pretty.” San motions you over. “Any objections, Joong?”

Hongjoong is balling up his fists so hard that his white knuckles are showing through his meticulously tattoos hands.

“Nope, none at all” venom seeping through his clenched teeth.

San and Wooyoung are fully prepared for what you’re wearing underneath your baggy clothes. Hongjoong, on the other hand, has no idea, and his dick is already leaking profusely. He throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to wait out your turn.

“Come on babe, lose the clothes” Wooyoung provokes.

You swiftly remove your sweatshirt and sweatpants and toss them aside. In nothing but your skimpy leather harness, that leaves the best parts of you completely exposed, you settle yourself onto San’s waiting lap. Your soaked pussy is already leaving a mess on San’s pants, and feeling his hard dick underneath you is doing nothing to help matters.

“Joong-ah” San coos at Hongjoong who still hasn’t taken a glance in your direction. “Come on. Look at how pretty Y/N is” San purrs right next to your ear, making you clench around nothing.

Hongjoong lifts his head from its resting place, eyes still tightly shut as he rubs his face with his hands in frustration. He drops his hands from his face as he hesitantly begins to open his eyes, letting out a long, deep breath in the process. The second his eyes land on you, every bit of sanity he was holding on to has dissipated. His dark eyes are ablaze, and he’s licking his lips furiously with his pierced tongue. His decorated hands head for his neatly styled locks and he begins pulling at them in want. No. NEED. He needs to taste you, to feel you. IMMEDIATELY.

“Fuck, Y/N. Are you trying to kill me?” Hongjoong says with the neediest whine you think you’ve ever heard come from a man.

Now that Hongjoong is focused on you, in an attempt to add fuel to both yours and Hongjoong’s fire, San places feather light touches across your body. Ghosting his fingers up and down your arms, your thighs, your sides, your neck. You shiver, despite the heat coursing through you.

“Shit, my lap is wet” San moans out, making eye contact with Hongjoong over your shoulder.

Hongjoong’s forearms are resting across his thighs, hands folded together, and if looks could kill, San would be a dead man. Envy is pouring off of Hongjoong in waves, and something about that is insanely fucking attractive to you. Wooyoung is whining and whimpering next to you and San, desperate for a tinge of attention.

San cups his boyfriend’s dick, straining desperately against his tight jeans. “Be a good boy, and be patient.”

“Ok, my turn” San says, completely unphased by the death glare given by Hongjoong.

He contemplates for a minute on which block to pull. He pulls his choice and the tower threatens to fall, but his quickness prevents the catastrophe.

“Take a shot, simple enough. Y/N, will you pour me one?” You slide off of San’s lap, onto your knees in front of the table to pour the shot, Hongjoong’s eyes following your every move.

San unconsciously clears his throat, yanking Hongjoong from his thoughts of you on your knees for him. Hongjoong glances at the man across from him, only to see the ever present dark patch now covering San’s lap from your leaking pussy.

You place yourself back into San’s lap, handing him the shot that he downs in one quick swallow, burning be damned. Hongjoong is running the barbell in his tongue across his teeth, giving himself anything to focus on but the sting of jealousy bubbling under his skin.

“It’s your turn, pretty,” San directs at Wooyoung. Wooyoung takes his pick, the tower is almost useless at this point, and you know at your turn, this thing is definitely crumbling.

Wooyoung pulls ‘kiss’ and needily engulfs San’s lips, the latter swallowing Wooyoung’s moans and gasps. They disconnect with a wet smack, saliva still connecting them until San licks his lips. “My needy boy,” San’s smooth voice says to Wooyoung.

Hongjoong is up next, beyond ready to be completely finished with this game of pure torture and takes the last logical option to keep the tower at bay. He doesn’t even bother reading the block aloud, fearful his voice will betray the possessiveness he’s trying to hide at watching you on San’s lap, reveling in his touches. He simply tosses the block on the table and strips down to his boxers.

“Ah, lose pants,” a devilish smirk taking over San’s features.

Your mouth is watering. You can see the imprint of Hongjoong’s huge, thick cock begging to be freed. You swallow hard and lick your lips, trying your best not to drool at the sight.

It is again your turn and you have no possible way of not knocking down the tower. You attempt anyways, choosing one from the middle, and pull the block out halfway before all remaining pieces tumble down onto the table.

“HA! You have to sit in someone’s lap for the rest of the game,” Wooyoung shrieks.

“I’m already in San’s lap though?” Hongjoong shoots you a look that you can immediately decipher.

“No, no babe. You have to sit in someone else’s. San, send her over to Joong.”

San pats your strap covered hip, silently ordering you to stand. You stand, but hesitate to head over to Hongjoong, the glint in his eyes enough to send your full body into a mess of goosebumps. Wooyoung begins resetting the tower as you take slow, calculated steps towards a very angry, very horny Hongjoong. As you reach him and turn to sit in his lap, he grips your hips with such strength, you know it will leave bruises later, and you yelp as he pulls you down onto him.

Wooyoung almost has the Jenga game ready to play again, but you decide now is a good time to test just how far Hongjoong’s sanity has gone by wiggling your ass just slightly against his throbbing dick. He bites down onto the flesh of your shoulder hard, leaving a deep indent of his perfect teeth and you let out something between a sigh and a moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“You know what, fuck this!” Hongjoong finally lets his resolve break, and Wooyung and San jump at his sudden outburst. “I’m done with this fucking game.”

He stands the both of you up and roughly flings you over his shoulder and makes his way to your room.

“Joong, what are you doing?” You protest, hands flailing, trying to find some form of stability.

“What I should have done when I first got here, instead of playing that damn game. You think it’s fun to tease, Kitten? Just you wait.”

“Haha, oh shit. She’s in trouble,” Wooyoung says to San, failing miserably to hold in his laughter.

You reach your room and Hongjoong swiftly places you down and slams the door and clicks the lock in place. He turns to you, features insanely feral, grabs you around your throat, just enough to catch you off guard and pins you against the door. He places hot, messy kisses up your neck to you ear.

“I need to know that you fully consent to what is about to take place, Y/N.” You hum your approval in response. He nips the lobe of your ear, “I need words, Kitten.”

“Yes, Joong. Please,” you manage between pants.

“Mm, no baby, tonight it’s ‘Captain’” he growls as he forcefully slides his leg in between yours.

You grind hard against his thigh as he’s kissing you like his life is dependent on it, hand still wrapped neatly around your throat. The mix of his lip and tongue piercing as he’s tongue fucking your mouth makes your pussy throb.

“Look at you, already a fucked out mess and you haven’t even gotten my cock yet” his whispers against your lips.

“Jump” he demands, and you do as told, and he grips you tight as you wrap legs around his tiny, slutty waist.

He carries you to your bed and with no regard for safety, tosses you onto it. He pulls you to the edge of it, his arms wrapped around your thighs, as you squeak at the sudden movement.

“You enjoy teasing, huh, Y/N?” he grits out as he rolls his rock hard cock against you, drenching his thin boxers in your juices.

He kneels before you as his hot breath tickles your core. “Two can play that game, Kitten.”

“Hongj-!” A sharp slap, followed by a bite to your inner thigh springs a low grunt from you and stops his name from escaping your lips.

“How quickly you forget, gorgeous. I told you, it’s Captain.”

You prop yourself onto your forearms and with one arm, your hand grips his dark locks with an unnecessary amount of force, trying to guide his face to your dripping pussy.

“Captain, please” you whine needily. He removes your hand from his hair.

“Where has that cocky little attitude gone, Y/N, hmmm?” he mocks you, looking at you from between your legs, eyes hazy behind his long, pretty eyelashes. “Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise. What’s your safe word, Kitten?”

“Utopia” you manage through bated breath.

Once he gets that final piece of information, he begins nipping the flesh of your thigh from your knee, almost to your throbbing heat, very slowly. You lay yourself back down as you fist the sheets in an effort not to place your hands on that beautiful man, who is determined to take you apart piece by piece. You feel his ministrations stop for a few moments, and you think you have a moment to catch your breath. Before you can take a full breath of air, his hot, wet tongue delves past the strap barely covering your dripping cunt. He groans as the taste of you explodes on his tongue.

He rests his head against your thigh for a moment and sucks in a few deep breaths. “Fuck Kitten, you taste so good. Been dreaming about this for months. It's seriously been fucking with my head, you have no idea what you do to me.”. You stare down your body at him, trembling at the dark look he returns as he leans in again and drags the hard ball of his tongue piercing between your slick swollen folds.

Your head falls back and you arch as the jewel teases over your clit. He hums and groans as he explores you, his hands holding your thighs open in a bruising grip. “Fuck Y/N the things I want to do to you,” he groaned against you, the vibrations of his raspy voice against your core driving you wild.

“C-Captain, please!” you whine.

“Mm, what is it Kitten?” he asked, nipping at your thigh with sharp teeth. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”

“Yes…but please let me touch you,” you beg.

He reluctantly leaves his spot from the floor and towers over you as you scoot back to give him room between your legs on the bed. You instinctively wrap your legs around him as he grabs your hands and runs them over his body. He presses his body further into you and nips against the soft flesh of your neck.

“Hmmm, you think you deserve to touch?”

“Please, I’ll be good” you whimper in desperation.

“Then go on baby, make your Captain feel good.”

That was all the permission you needed before you wrapped your mouth around one of his pierced nipples, the metallic taste causing you to hum against him. You lick and suck his sensitive bud, also mixing in a graze of your teeth every so often. You make sure to give his other perky nipple attention as well, lightly rubbing your thumb across it. After a while, you switch sides, making sure each side receives equal care. Hongjoong lets out little pants at the feeling. He swears he could cum just from this alone.

Patience wearing thin, he grips your hair and tugs you off of his nipple with a wet pop, a string of spit still connecting you. He takes in your fucked out expression and before you can complain at the loss of something in your mouth, he returns the same favor to you. He bites and licks and sucks and pinches until you are a blubbering mess under him, back arching at an impossible angle.

“Awww, look at you crying, Y/N. We’re just barely getting started” he mocks as he gently cups your face, wiping the tears that have managed to escape.

“Captain, please! I- I need…” you say between gulps of air.

“You need what, Kitten? I thought I told you to use your words?” he grins at you with a raised eyebrow.

He’s enjoying just how much you can’t form a coherent sentence. You place your arm over your eyes to try and hide just how much he’s affected you. Although it’s absolutely pointless, because he knows. And he’s ready to break you.

While you’ve had your eyes covered, trying to regain control of your breathing, and give Hongjoong a proper response, he is now fully naked in all his glory, standing at the foot of the bed.

“I need you” you whine helplessly.

“Oh, you can have me, baby” lust dripping from his voice as he leans over you to take your arm away from your face. He kisses you, aggressive and hungry, and when he goes to pull back, you chase after his lips.

Now that you’re fully sitting up, and actually see Hongjoong, the sight you came face to face with had you salivating and ready to devour him whole. His hard cock and flushed red tip leaking precum, and just as pierced as the rest of his body. 8 delicately placed and fitted barbells, creating his Jacob’s ladder, and a Prince Albert decorating his tip. Your tongue tingles with a need to have him in your mouth. You lick your lips a let out a hushed ‘fuck’.

“Someone likes what they see, do they?” he says, a cocky smirk playing across his face.

“God. Fuck! Captain.. I need it.” You’re so desperate to have your mouth, your hands, your pussy, around his huge, thick, pretty length. You slide off the bed and you immediately drop to your knees on the plush carpet in front of him.

“Such a good girl, so eager.” He takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding you to look at him. “As hungry as you are for my cock, you need to be careful, Kitten. Do you understand?” You nod your head and he grips your chin a little tighter.

“Yes! Yes, Captain!” you blurt out before he can render you the reminder.

“Then go ahead and satisfy your appetite, baby.”

He lets go of your chin and your hand makes quick work of spreading his precum, slicking up his dick. He throws his head back in pleasure, finally getting a bit of friction. You place feather light kisses up each side of his length, and a few well calculated ones against his hips. His cock twitches, leaking out another drop, begging to be swallowed, and you smile into his skin. He feels your smile and he entangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you back from his hips. He tugs your hair hard enough that you are forced to make eye contact with the absolute demon right now that is Kim Hongjoong.

“I’m getting tired of you being a little cock tease, Kitten. Suck me like you’re starved, or I finish myself off on my own in front of you, and walk out, leaving your pussy dripping and empty. Or maybe I could go ask San and Woo for some help. I know they would be more than happy to.”

As much as the brat in you wanted to test that, the look in his eyes told you he was being serious, and your hole was begging for attention.

You run your hot, wet tongue on the underside of his shaft, paying special attention to each ‘rung’ of his ladder, up to his flushed red pierced tip and lap up the pearl of precum that has settled there. You finally take him into your mouth with a renewed fervor and the moan he lets out is purely pornographic.

“That’s a good girl” he pants, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail. The praise makes you dizzy and as much as you want to deep throat his cock, he never lets you take him in too far in fear that he could cause some damage.

You make up for that by making it extremely messy for him, allowing every drop of spit you can manage to coat him. The drool is dribbling from the sides of your mouth, and dripping off his dick onto the carpet underneath him. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, and by the grunts and small moans you can tell he’s close.

Before he lets himself give into ecstasy, he gently and reluctantly forces himself from your skilled mouth and tongue. He takes one look at you and has to grab the base of his cock to stop himself from tipping over the edge. You’re looking up at him with big doe eyes, mouth still slightly open, and your chin and chest soaked from the show you put on for him.

“You just sucked my fucking soul out through my dick. Fuck” he lets out in disbelief while he attempts to even out his breathing.

You stand on shaky legs, and wrap your arms around him to reach behind and grab his tight, round ass and pull him flush against you. You place little bites into the sensitive flesh of his neck, licking after each one.

His hums of pleasure spur you on, until you can’t even take the torture anymore and you whisper against the shell of his ear.

“Please fuck me, Captain. It’s so wet for you.”

You bring one of his hands right to your sopping pussy and begin fucking yourself against it, hoping he’ll give you what you want. He groans, long and low, at the slick now covering his hand, and without warning shoves two fingers inside of your needy hole. You let out a silent scream at the euphoria of something filling you after so long.

“You want my cock? Beg for it, Kitten.”

He continues to fuck into you with his delicate but precise fingers, the wet sloshing of your pussy and your elevating moans filling the room. He sucks deep purple marks into the skin of your neck and chest. The bratty side is winning for the moment, you refusing to beg for him. His fingers find your sweet spot and curve into it, causing you to almost crumble to the floor.

“Come on, beg for it, baby. I can tell you’re close, you’re about to take my damn fingers off with how hard you’re clenching them. So bratty, that you won’t even beg to get your greedy hole stuffed with my cock, hmm? You don’t need my fingers then, either.”

He promptly removes the fingers that were inside, abusing the spongy spot inside of you, and you do indeed crumble to the floor this time.

He looks down at you, the start of tears forming in your eyes from the sudden denial of release, and licks his fingers, being sure to drag his pierced tongue in between them.

“P-please, Captain. Please!” you stutter out, worried that if you don’t, he might really not let you cum tonight.

“Please, what?” he asks sharply, eyebrow raised, still cleaning his fingers from your arousal.

“Please fill me with your cock and fuck me dumb. Make me cum on it. Please, please, please!”

“Bed. Now. Face down, ass up. And I hope you know, I’m taking no pity on you. The amount of teasing I’ve endured from you tonight doesn’t deserve it. Playing with San and Woo in front of my face? Dressing like a little slut? Do you know how insane that makes me? I’m gonna make sure I’m the only thing you think of. Only me.”

His possessiveness only mildly scares you, but you’re too far gone to think about anything else but him fucking your brains out.

“Only you, Captain. Only need you.”

You feel the bed dip behind you, and hear the loud slap before your brain registers the hot sting on your ass. You groan as he places another on the opposite cheek to match, your heated skin tingling as the pain morphs to pleasure. He continues his assault on your ass, voice a deep growl.

“You wanted to piss me off, didn’t you? You wanted me to be rough, hmm?”

All you can do is sigh and whimper in agreement.

He kneads your burning cheeks before running his hands up to your waist and grabs your hips with a bruising grip. He ruts his dick against you, coating it in your wetness, but being careful not to give you what you truly desire.

“Don’t tease, Captain.”

“Don’t tease? You mean don’t do to you what you’ve been doing to me all fucking night?”

He removes his hands from your hips, and one snakes up your body to pinch a sensitive nipple, and the other goes straight for your clit, rubbing purposeful patterns into the bundle of nerves. You jolt at the rush of pleasure and he hums in approval.

“You really are so sensitive, Kitten.”

He dips two fingers inside of your pulsing pussy, and you immediately tighten around them. The heel of his palm is still giving your clit just enough friction. The fire in your gut is increasing at an alarming rate and he can feel your spasms around his fingers, and your legs trembling just slightly, and he knows you’re so close.

“C-Captain. Fuck, I’m so close. Please.. don’t stop!” you plead.

“Oh, baby, I know. Like I can’t feel you throbbing around my fingers, Kitten.” his condescending tone almost pushing you over the edge immediately. Except right before the knot in your stomach snaps, he stops.

“Fuck!” You let out a strangled sob at the second denial of pleasure.

He chuckles as your frustration grows, knowing he is fully enjoying what he’s doing to you.

“Don’t act like you don’t want my pussy just as much as I want your cock” you choke out into the pillow below you.

“Mouthy are we?” He lands another harsh slap on your ass. A hand flies into your hair and tugs, maneuvering your head to the side, so he can get a better look at your flustered face.

“Oh trust me, I do. But my will is much stronger than yours, clearly. I can do this all night.”

He definitely doesn’t want to, but he can. He’s so ready to be buried deep inside you, but he doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction quite yet.

He leans over you to place hot, needy kisses over your back and shoulders, and his hands are back to play with your hard buds, rolling them between his fingers.

“Captain, fuck. P-please just fuck me already. I’m -I’m losing my fucking mind.” Your final plea before you really do lose it.

“Aww, how can I say no when you asked so nicely?”

He straightens himself up and pulls your sore ass cheeks apart, watching your wetness drip out of you as you flutter around nothing in anticipation. “Shit, you’re so wet for me. Gonna drown Captain’s dick, hmm baby?”

“Y-yes. God, yes.” you manage, barely above a whisper.

He teases his pierced tip at your entrance for just a moment, and groans at the slickness. Before you can voice your displeasure at the lack of dick filling you, he very slowly pushes himself into you. So slowly that you can feel every inch, every thick vein, and every single piercing finally engulfed in your tight heat. So slowly, so he can appreciate watching himself disappear and you stretching around his cock.

When he bottoms out, you both let out a lewd moan along with a breath neither of you knew you were holding. His long, thick cock is filling you perfectly and you’re fisting the sheets, trying to get used to the stretch. He’s still, brows furrowed in pleasure, needing to give himself a moment before he moves, or he will cum. Very quickly, and very hard.

“Damn, your pussy fits my cock so nicely. So beautiful and tight.”

You reflexively squeeze him at the words, and he throws his head back with a guttural moan. You’ve had enough of him being still, enough of his teasing, enough of not being fucked into the mattress, so you begin to fuck youself back onto him.

“Just so fucking impatient, aren’t you, Kitten?” He grunts through clenched teeth.

In a matter of seconds, he’s thrusting to meet your movements, pounding into you hard. His pierced dick is dragging against your walls in just the right way, a feeling you’ve never felt, but it’s all you’ll ever think about now.

The sloshing sound of your pussy, the slapping of wet skin against skin, and moans from him, and whimpers from you fill the room. The Prince Albert is hitting your sweet spot with every deliberate thrust of his hips. The Jacob’s ladder adding an extra layer of pressure to everything. You are whimpering and whining and drooling into the pillow below you. Hongjoong is panting and groaning, admiring how your juices coat his dick with a beautiful shine.

“Nng, Captain, it’s so good! God, fuck me harder.”

“Harder? You want me to just ruin this pussy for anyone else, don’t you?”

“Please, please, please!”

“Can’t say no with you begging me so pretty, baby.”

His thrusts do indeed get harder, every drag of his dick allowing that jewelry to make magic and hitting right where you need it, and kissing your cervix in the process too. The heat in your belly is spreading like wildfire, and you want it to be extinguished in the form of finally being able to cum.

Hongjoong can tell you’re teetering right on the edge again. And again, he stops right before you can cum.

“Hold on, just a moment, Kitten. There’s something I have to do.”

“Kim Hongjoong, I swear to fucking god!” Tears are streaming down your face at this point from now being pulled from your orgasm for the third time tonight. You find the strength to push yourself up onto your forearms, catching your breath from dropping from your denied high so quickly.

“Who is Hongjoong, baby?” he lightly giggles as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, his hard dick still nestled inside of you. He places a FaceTime call, and leans over you to set his phone on the shelf in the headboard.

The call picks up, and it’s San on the other end. Your mouth drops in shock.

“I just wanted you to see me ruin her for the shit she’s pulled tonight.” Hongjoong says simply.

“Looks like we both had the same idea in dealing with our brats tonight.”

You watch San moving around, clearly trying to find somewhere to set his phone, and when he leans back from in front of his camera, there’s Wooyoung. In the same state you are. You’re both matching positions, fucked out faces, and tear ridden cheeks.

There’s a silent exchange between San and Hongjoong, but by watching San on Hongjoong’s phone you can definitely tell they’re communicating something.

“Look at you two, so pretty for us.” San coos.

In perfect sync, both San and Hongjoong reach under you and Wooyoung, placing their hands on your throats and pushing you up to sit on your knees, backs flush to their chests.

“We’re all going to watch you two fall apart on our cocks. How’s that sound?” the mischief thick in Hongjoong’s voice.

You and Wooyoung both let a small whimper escape as you make eye contact with each other, knowing you’re absolutely fucked. Hongjoong fits even more snug inside you from this angle and it has you gasping for breath, and dropping your head.

“Youngie, you’re gonna watch Y/N, and Y/N you’re gonna watch Youngie. Understood?” San says with authority that makes both you and Wooyoung shiver.

Wooyoung immediately answers with a soft ‘yes’. You, however, are silent for a beat too long for Hongjoong’s liking, and he clutches your face, lifting you head to look at San and Wooyoung through the lit up screen.

“San asked you a question, Y/N. I believe he expects an answer” he snarls in your ear.

“Y-yes, San.” you breathe out.

“If only she was half as behaved as Youngie, she could have cum already. Three times.”

You knit your eyebrows together in irritation, remembering how many times you've been denied your release, and at the fact that Hongjoong’s dick is sitting heavily inside of you, but he’s not moved an inch since he and San have co-conspired against you and Wooyoung.

San laughs loudly at Hongjoong’s statement.

“You think my little Woo here is behaved? You think he’s got my cock in his tight ass, and his dick pretty and leaking, and tears running down his face because he’s been a good boy? You forget, he was being just as much of a tease as Y/N was tonight, Joong.”

“Shit. Woo looks pretty like that” you mumble. Hongjoong definitely still manages to hear you.

“I agree, Kitten. And so do you. Isn’t that right, Woo?”

“So fucking pretty” Woo huffs.

“Think it’s time we teach them a lesson, San?”

You see the devilish grin appear on San’s face and you know Hongjoong has one to match.

Hongjoong thrusts into you incredibly hard, and you choke on a sob as the wind is knocked from your lungs. If it hadn’t been for his pretty tattooed hand around your throat, you would have fallen forward, face first into the bed.

He continues his relentless abuse on your pussy, your slick dripping down your thighs and making a puddle on the sheets below. His pierced tip hitting your sweet spot, and the others raking your walls with each well placed snap of his hips. The noises he’s eliciting from you have become very loud and very lewd. He lets go of your neck and with the next thrust that gives him an opportunity to shove his fingers into your parted mouth, he does just that.

“Suck ‘em, baby. Make ‘em nice and wet for me.”

You give his fingers the same attention you gave his dick earlier, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, cascading down your chin and chest. His unoccupied hand goes to tease a nipple, collecting some of your saliva along the way to make it wet. Your eyes flutter shut for a brief moment at the pleasure lighting every nerve in your body on fire.

“S-Sannie, please. I-I can’t. Too much, need to cum!” Woo’s high pitched pleas snap your eyes back open. You were supposed to be watching him, and hoped that Hongjoong hadn’t noticed your temporary disobedience.

“You’ll come when I say you can, pretty.” San’s voice is gruff as he ruts into Wooyoung, almost animalistic.

Wooyoung’s precum has left a wet patch on the bed in front of him. San reaches around and grabs Wooyoung’s wet, red, and angry cock, and begins stroking him at a tortuous pace. He places soft kisses along his shoulders and neck. Wooyoung is sniveling as San takes his free hand and wipes the tears streaming down his face.

“Come on, you can take it, baby. Show them what a good boy you are.”

San’s praise and Wooyoung’s sobs made you tighten even more around Hongjoong, releasing sobbing moans of your own against his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me, Y/N. Taking everything I give you. So wet and so tight, just for me, hmm baby?”

He slides his fingers from your mouth, and runs his hand down your stomach, pressing on the bulge there formed by his cock that you’d only just noticed. You can’t even string together enough words right now to form a sentence if you wanted to. Hongjoong hmphs at your inability to answer.

“This is what you wanted right? To be fucked dumb on my cock?” His voice is tight, and from his even faster pace, you can tell he’s close. All you can do is frantically nod at his words.

San looks just as close to cumming as Hongjoong feels. Hongjoong’s hand leaves your stomach and brings it straight to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and pace to have your eyes rolling back and your mind going blank.

“Captain, fuck. I-I can’t. Please. Please let me cum!”

San is vigorously stroking Wooyoung and you can see him struggling against San from his overstimulation. You and Wooyoung are both seconds from cumming and if they don’t let you this time, you’re sure you’re going to pass out. You and Wooyoung flick your eyes back to each other, as San and Hongjoong place a hand on each of your throats, putting just enough pressure to make your heads spin, but not enough that you can’t breathe. They speed up even faster against your clit, and Wooyoung’s dick. Both of your breathing is uneven, chests heaving, and nothing can control the sobs and moans that escape the both of you.

“Cum for me, Youngie.”

“Cum for me, Y/N.”

You and Wooyoung look right into each other's eyes as you convulse and cum around Hongjoong and San’s cocks. You string along a chant of ‘Captain’ and a few choice words as stars dance around your vision as it goes white. Your pulse is pounding in your ears, and the already arousal stained sheets double in their pool of wetness as you squirt. Wooyoung’s garbled moan of San’s name joins yours of the Captain’s as thick, white, seemingly never ending ropes of cum spurt from Wooyoung’s cock.

The sight of you two falling apart for them, had them following seconds behind you. You were a rag doll as this point, as Hongjoong continued to fuck into you, chasing his own pleasure. After a few more quick, sharp thrusts, he cums with a long, whiny moan as he sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder.

San fills Wooyoung’s ass as he cums with a resounding growl, burying his face into Wooyoung’s neck. After a few moments, he pulls out and gently lowers an exhausted Wooyoung into a clean spot on the bed.

Hongjoong does the same with you, and your eyes close as soon as your head hits the pillow. You can hear San and Hongjoong whispering to each other, barely able to make sense of their words. Until you hear “We’ll have to do this again, minus the phones.”

San hums in agreement. “I think that’s an amazing idea, Joong.”

“We’d better go take care of our good little babies. We’ll talk in more detail later, San.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.

Hongjoong grabs the water bottle and fruit snacks from the nightstand next to you.

“Sit up for me baby, you need this.”

He sits in front of you and helps you sit up and unscrews the cap off the water bottle and brings it to your lips. You gulp it down like you’ve been stuck in the desert with no water for 3 days.

“Good girl, eat these too.” he says as he feeds you your favorite fruit snacks. You hadn’t even seen him prepare all of this beforehand, and you smile contentedly as his care.

As your brain clears, you take his hands and interlace your fingers with his.

“That was amazing.”

He cups your face and flashes his toothy grin at you. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wasn’t too rough? You’re ok?”

“Joongi, you were perfect. I’m ok, I promise. We put a safe word in place for a reason.”

“Indeed we did.” he laughs lightly. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go run us a bath, we’re a mess.”

His naked form heads to the en suite bathroom and fills the tub with water just hot enough to relax the two of you, but not enough to be uncomfortable. He pours a splash of lavender oils and bubbles into it and swirls them around.

He returns to you on the bed with a warm washcloth and gently cleans you up a bit before he scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the bath.

He carefully sets you down, letting you test the steadiness of your legs, before he begins ridding you of the body harness. Once he’s finished and tossed it to the side, he lends you his arm so you can step into the bath. You sigh deeply, the hot water relaxing your sore body. Hongjoong clambers in after you and makes himself comfortable behind you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and he circles his arms around your waist as he litters your face and neck with soft, tender kisses. You giggle, and you can feel him smile into one of his kisses.

“You’re perfect, Y/N, do you know that?”

“Nahh, far from it. But you, Kim Hongjoong? You just might be.”

“Pfft, absolutely not, baby. But for you I’d try to be.” He sees the bite mark he left on you and kisses it, satisfied that you’ll have a reminder of him, even if for a little while. “Looks good on you. I’ll be sad when it’s gone.” he says without even thinking.

“You could always make more, you know.”

He blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t realize I said that out loud.”

You laugh at his realization. “But you did, and I meant what I said.”

You two fall into deep conversation, talking about dreams and aspirations, what you hope your future to look like, past relationships, family, anything that comes to mind, until the water turns cold. You begin to shiver a bit and that puts Hongjoong into motion.

He climbs out of the tub and you pout and the loss of him around you.

“Come here, it’s cold now, let’s get you into some comfy PJs.”

You take his hand and follow him and he dries you off as best as he can. He dresses you both in a fluffy robe to head back into the room. He urges you to sit on the bed while he rummages through your dresser to find something for you to wear.

“Ah ha! Here we go!” he says triumphantly as he heads to you with a matching purple silk pajama set.

“There should at least be some sweats in there for you that’ll fit that tiny little waist of yours, Captain.” you say playfully. He fishes those out as well, and heads back to you on the bed.

“I’m capable of dressing myself, Joong.” you say through tiny giggles as he helps you into your pajamas.

“Yeah, I know, but like… I just wanted to help. Sue me.” he retorts, acting like he is truly offended.

He gets onto the opposite side of bed and pulls you to him, laying you both down, clutching you tightly to his chest. He tucks you both into your down comforter and nuzzles into your neck.

“So warm.” he whispers into your neck. If he were a cat, you’re damn sure he would be purring right now.

“Hey, so what’s this I heard you talking about with Sannie? Something about doing this again? Without the phones? I was kind of out of it, but I think that’s what I heard?”

“Shit, I definitely thought you were asleep. But I mean, I would like to explore the option, if all parties involved are in agreement.”

“You’ll hear no objections from me!”

Just then your phone dings.

Wooyoungieeee

Holy shit, that was amazing. We should make out and piss them off more often ;)

You type out your response to him rather quickly

I think that might be in the plans, Woo lol

“Well, Woo is down” you show Hongjoong your text from him.

“And clearly so are San and I. So that settles that then. We are absolutely putting down some ground rules for you two naughty brats, though.” he showers your cheek with kisses.

“Ok baby,” he says with a yawn, his hand on your stomach under your pajama shirt rubbing little comforting circles, “I know we’re both exhausted, you especially. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk more about all of that tomorrow.”

“Ok, Joongi. Thank you again for tonight, and thank you for taking care of me.”

“That’s not something you ever have to thank me for, but you are more than welcome, baby.”

You let out a content sigh at the warmth and comfort from Hongjoong wrapped around you. You can hear his breathing slow and even, and that is what finally lulls you to sleep.

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

The Telling Truth: When 'Show, Don't Tell' Doesn't Apply (You Don't Always Have To Show, Don't Tell.)

Hey there, fellow writers and beloved members of the writeblr community! 📝✨

Today, I want to talk about something that's been on my mind lately, and I have a feeling it might resonate with many of you too. It's about that age-old writing advice we've all heard a million times: "Show, don't tell." Now, don't get me wrong – it's great advice, and it has its place in our writing toolbox. But here's the thing: it's not the be-all and end-all of good writing. In fact, I'd argue that sometimes, it's perfectly okay – even necessary – to tell rather than show.

First things first, let's address the elephant in the room. The "show, don't tell" rule has been drilled into our heads since we first picked up a pen (or opened a Word document) with the intention of writing creatively. It's been repeated in writing workshops, creative writing classes, and countless craft books. And for good reason! Showing can create vivid, immersive experiences for readers, allowing them to feel like they're right there in the story.

But here's where things get a bit tricky: like any rule in writing (or in life, for that matter), it's not absolute. There are times when telling is not just acceptable, but actually preferable. And that's what you all will explore today in this hopefully understandable blog post.

Let's start by breaking down why "show, don't tell" is so popular. When we show instead of tell, we're engaging the reader's senses and emotions. We're painting a picture with words, allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions based on the details we provide. It's a powerful technique that can make our writing more engaging and memorable.

For example, instead of saying "Sarah was angry," we might write, "Sarah's fists clenched at her sides, her jaw tight as she glared at the broken vase." This gives the reader a clearer image and allows them to infer Sarah's emotional state.

But here's the thing: sometimes, we don't need or want that level of detail. Sometimes, efficiency in storytelling is more important than painting an elaborate picture. And that's where telling comes in handy.

Imagine if every single emotion, action, or piece of information in your story was shown rather than told. Your novel would probably be thousands of pages long, and your readers might get lost in the sea of details, losing sight of the main plot or character arcs.

So, when might telling be more appropriate? Let's explore some scenarios:

Summarizing less important events: If you're writing a story that spans a long period, you don't need to show every single day or event. Telling can help you summarize periods of time or less crucial events quickly, allowing you to focus on the more important parts of your story.

For instance: "The next few weeks passed in a blur of exams and late-night study sessions." This sentence tells us what happened without going into unnecessary detail about each day.

Providing necessary background information: Sometimes, you need to give your readers some context or backstory. While you can certainly weave this information into scenes, there are times when a straightforward telling of facts is more efficient.

Example: "The war had been raging for three years before Sarah's village was attacked." This quickly gives us important context without needing to show the entire history of the war.

Establishing pace and rhythm: Alternating between showing and telling can help you control the pace of your story. Showing tends to slow things down, allowing readers to immerse themselves in a moment. Telling can speed things up, moving the story along more quickly when needed.

Clarifying complex ideas or emotions: Some concepts or feelings are abstract or complex enough that showing alone might not suffice. In these cases, a bit of telling can help ensure your readers understand what's happening.

For example: "The quantum entanglement theory had always fascinated John, but explaining it to others often left him feeling frustrated and misunderstood." Here, we're telling the reader about John's relationship with this complex scientific concept, which might be difficult to show effectively.

Maintaining your narrative voice: Sometimes, telling is simply more in line with your narrative voice or the tone of your story. This is especially true if you're writing in a more direct or conversational style.

Now, I can almost hear some of you saying, "But wait! I've always been told that showing is always better!" And I completely get it. I'm a writer myself and prioritize "Show, Don't tell." in my writing all the time. We've been conditioned to believe that showing is superior in all cases. But we can take a moment to challenge that notion.

Think about some of your favorite books. Chances are, they use a mix of showing and telling. Even the most critically acclaimed authors don't adhere strictly to "show, don't tell" all the time. They understand that good writing is about balance and knowing when to use each technique effectively.

Take, for instance, the opening line of George Orwell's "1984": "It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen." This is a perfect blend of showing and telling. Orwell shows us it's a bright, cold day (we can imagine the crisp air and clear sky), but he tells us about the clocks striking thirteen. This immediate telling gives us crucial information about the world we're entering – it's not quite like our own.

Or consider this passage from Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice": "Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character." Here, Austen is clearly telling us about Mr. Bennet's character rather than showing it through his actions. And yet, it works beautifully, giving us a quick, clear insight into both Mr. Bennet and his wife.

The key is to use both techniques strategically. So, how can you decide when to show and when to tell? Here are some tips:

Consider the importance of the information: Is this a crucial moment in your story, a pivotal emotion, or a key piece of character development? If so, it might be worth showing. If it's more of a transitional moment or background information, telling might be more appropriate.

Think about pacing: If you want to slow down and really immerse your reader in a moment, show it. If you need to move things along more quickly, tell it.

Evaluate the complexity: If you're dealing with a complex emotion or concept, consider whether showing alone will be enough to convey it clearly. Sometimes, a combination of showing and telling works best for complex ideas.

Consider your word count: If you're working with strict word count limitations (like in short stories or flash fiction), telling can help you convey necessary information more concisely.

Trust your instincts (Important): As you write more, you'll develop a feel for when showing or telling works better. Trust your gut, and don't be afraid to experiment.

Now, let's talk about how to tell effectively when you do choose to use it. Because here's the thing: telling doesn't have to be boring or flat. It can be just as engaging and stylish as showing when done well. Here are some tips for effective telling:

Use strong, specific language: Instead of using vague or generic words, opt for more specific, evocative language. For example, instead of "She was sad," you might write, "A profound melancholy settled over her."

Incorporate sensory details: Even when telling, you can include sensory information to make it more vivid. "The room was cold" becomes more engaging as "A bone-chilling cold permeated the room."

Use metaphors and similes: These can help make your telling more colorful and memorable. "His anger was like a volcano ready to erupt" paints a vivid picture without showing the anger in action.

Keep it concise: One of the advantages of telling is its efficiency. Don't negate that by being overly wordy. Get to the point, but do it with style.

Vary your sentence structure: Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, more flowing ones to create rhythm and maintain interest.

Remember, the goal is to create a seamless narrative that engages your reader. Sometimes that means showing, sometimes it means telling, and often it means a artful blend of both.

It's also worth noting that different genres and styles of writing may lean more heavily on one technique or the other. Literary fiction often employs more showing, delving deep into characters' psyches and painting elaborate scenes. Genre fiction, on the other hand, might use more telling to keep the plot moving at a brisker pace. Neither approach is inherently better – it all depends on what works best for your story and your style.

Now, I want to address something that I think many of us struggle with: the guilt or anxiety we might feel when we catch ourselves telling instead of showing. It's easy to fall into the trap of second-guessing every sentence, wondering if we should be showing more. But here's the truth: that kind of constant self-doubt can be paralyzing and ultimately detrimental to your writing process.

So, I want you to understand and think: It's okay to tell sometimes. You're not a bad writer for using telling in your work. In fact, knowing when and how to use telling effectively is a sign of a skilled writer.

Here's some practical ways to incorporate this mindset into your writing process:

First Draft Freedom: When you're writing your first draft, give yourself permission to write however it comes out. If that means more telling than showing, that's absolutely fine. The important thing is to get the story down. You can always revise and add more "showing" elements later if needed.

Revision with Purpose: When you're revising, don't automatically change every instance of telling to showing. Instead, ask yourself: Does this serve the story better as telling or showing? Consider the pacing, the importance of the information, and how it fits into the overall narrative.

Beta Readers and Feedback: When you're getting feedback on your work, pay attention to how readers respond to different sections. If they're engaged and understanding the story, then your balance of showing and telling is probably working well, regardless of which technique you're using more.

Study Your Favorite Authors: Take some time to analyze how your favorite writers use showing and telling. You might be surprised to find more instances of effective telling than you expected.

Practice Both Techniques (Important): Set aside some time to practice both showing and telling. Write the same scene twice, once focusing on showing and once on telling. This can help you develop a feel for when each technique is most effective.

Now, let's address another important point: the evolution of writing styles and reader preferences. The "show, don't tell" rule gained popularity in the early 20th century with the rise of modernist literature. But writing styles and reader tastes have continued to evolve since then.

In our current fast-paced world, where people are often reading on devices and in shorter bursts, there's sometimes a preference for more direct, efficient storytelling. This doesn't mean that showing is out of style, but it does mean that there's often room for more telling than strict adherence to "show, don't tell" would allow.

Moreover, diverse voices in literature are challenging traditional Western writing norms, including the emphasis on showing over telling. Some cultures have strong storytelling traditions that lean more heavily on telling, and as the literary world becomes more inclusive, we're seeing a beautiful variety of styles that blend showing and telling in new and exciting ways.

This brings me to an important point: your voice matters. Your unique way of telling stories is valuable. Don't let rigid adherence to any writing rule, including "show, don't tell," stifle your natural voice or the story you want to tell.

Remember, rules in writing are more like guidelines. They're tools to help us improve our craft, not unbreakable laws. The most important rule is to engage your reader and tell your story effectively. If that means more telling than the conventional wisdom suggests, then so be it.

As I wrap up this discussion, I want to leave you with a challenge: In your next writing session, consciously use both showing and telling. Pay attention to how each technique feels, how it serves your story, and how it affects the rhythm of your writing. You might discover new ways to blend these techniques that work perfectly for your unique style.

Writing is an art, not a science. There's no perfect formula, no one-size-fits-all approach. It's about finding what works for you, your story, and your readers. So embrace both showing and telling. Use them as the powerful tools they are, and don't be afraid to break the "rules" when your instincts tell you to.

Remember, every great writer started where you are now, learning the rules and then figuring out when and how to break them effectively. You're part of a long, proud tradition of storytellers, each finding their own path through the winding forest of words.

Keep writing, keep growing, and keep believing in yourself. You've got this!

Happy writing! 💖✍️ - Rin T.

Before you go, why not join us at The Write Right Society? We're a supportive Tumblr community where writers lift each other up. Whether you're a newbie or a pro, we'd love to have you! Share your work, get feedback, and connect with fellow wordsmiths, writers and aspiring authors. 

[pucksandpower]

Black Magic

Charles Leclerc x witch!Reader

Summary: famously non-superstitious Charles takes drastic measures to break the Monaco curse

Charles rubs his temples as he stares at the phone, mentally rehearsing how he’s going to convince you to meet with him. He knows it’s a long shot — from what his mother told him, you’re not exactly eager to use your … abilities, as she called them. But he’s desperate at this point after years of the Monaco curse haunting him.

He takes a deep breath and taps the call button. It rings once, twice, three times before you finally pick up with a cautious “Hello?”

“Y/N? Hi, this is Charles Leclerc. I was given your number by my mother ...” His voice trails off as an awkward silence stretches between you.

Finally you respond, sounding confused. “Pascale? But why would she ...”

Charles rushes to explain. “She said you might be able to help me with … well, with breaking a curse of sorts. One that’s been plaguing me for years at the Monaco Grand Prix.” He pauses, cringing a little at how ridiculous he sounds saying it out loud.

There’s another long pause before you let out a soft sigh. “I should’ve known this would happen eventually. Listen, I only do that kind of thing for family emergencies these days. Curses and spellwork … it’s not something I take lightly.”

“I understand,” Charles says quickly. “But you have to know what the Monaco Grand Prix means to me. It’s my home race, the most meaningful one on the calendar for me. And yet, every single year something goes wrong — mechanical failures, crashes, bad strategy calls, communication issues. It’s like I’m cursed to never win it.”

You’re silent for a moment, seeming to consider his words. “I’m aware of the … situation,” you say finally. “But even if I did agree to look into it, breaking an actual curse isn’t something that happens overnight. It would take time and effort.”

“I’ll give you anything you need — time, money, whatever it takes,” Charles insists. “Just … please. I’m desperate here. My heart can’t keep taking these kinds of blows.”

Another pause, then a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. But you have to promise to take this seriously and listen to what I say. No skepticism, no brushing it off as some kind of joke. This is real to me.”

Relief floods through Charles. “Yes, absolutely, I promise. When can you come by? I’m staying in Monaco until the race next weekend.”

“I’ll need a little while to prepare,” you say slowly. “But … I can try to come by Tuesday? We’ll need to talk more about this in person.”

“Tuesday is perfect,” Charles agrees eagerly. “Truly, thank you for this. I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your time.”

You let out a small huff of laughter. “You keep your championship hopes, I’ll keep my soul. We’ll call it even.”

A bemused smile crosses Charles’ face at that. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yes. I’ll be there Tuesday.” You hang up abruptly, leaving Charles staring at the phone with a mixture of hope and trepidation. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into … but he’s willing to try anything at this point.

Two days later, you show up at Charles’ apartment looking rather apprehensive. He ushers you inside, eyes raking over you with obvious curiosity. You’re younger than he expected, maybe mid-twenties, with a casual air and slight frame that doesn’t exactly scream “all-powerful witch“.

Still, he tries to withhold any skepticism as promised. “Thanks for coming. Can I get you anything? Some wine, or ...”

You shake your head. “I’m fine, thanks. I’d rather just get down to business if that’s okay.”

Charles nods and you both settle onto the couch, an anticipatory silence stretching out. Finally you clear your throat. “So. Tell me more about this … curse.”

And so he does, relaying in exhaustive detail the string of unlikely disasters that have befallen him at nearly every Monaco Grand Prix since he started in Formula 2. Crashes, mechanical failures, pit stops gone wrong, you name it … it’s like the racing gods have it out for him every year on his home streets.

You listen patiently, nodding along, your expression unreadable. When he finishes, you’re quiet for a long moment before speaking. “You know curses and superstitions have existed in motorsports for decades, right? It’s a high-adrenaline, high-risk environment … prime territory for that kind of thing to take root.”

Charles frowns. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”

“I’m not saying that.” You shake your head. “I’m just … managing expectations here. Breaking an entrenched curse, if that’s even what this is, isn’t easy. It’ll take much more than a couple of days of spellwork.”

He lets out a frustrated breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So you’re telling me you can’t help.”

“I didn’t say that.” You eye him levelly. “I’m saying this is going to require time, patience, and an open mind from you. If you’re willing to put in that kind of commitment, then I’ll do what I can. But you have to go into this knowing it might not work.”

Charles is silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally he nods. “Okay. You’re right, I’ll stop being skeptical and doubting this. I’m ready to fully commit, whatever that takes.”

A small smile flits across your face and you nod. “Alright then. I’ll need to gather some supplies first, do you have anything personal I can use? Something meaningful, something that represents your driving?”

Charles scrambles up to rummage through his drawers, finally emerging with a battered red fireproof racing glove, handing it over to you. “Will this work? My godfather gave it to me when he first started teaching me to kart.”

You take it with a nod, turning it over in your hands. “It’s perfect. I’ll need to attune it and prepare a few … components.” You glance up at him. “This may take me a day or two. But after that, I can try to get a sense of what we’re dealing with.”

He nods, feeling that flicker of hope rekindle in his chest. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You rise, slipping the glove into your bag. “I will. And Charles?” You hesitate, looking almost nervous for the first time since you arrived. “I know we’ve only just met, but … I want you to understand how serious I’m taking this. Messing with forces like curses … it’s not something I do lightly. If I can’t help in the end, it’s not for lack of trying, okay?”

Something about your sincere tone puts Charles at ease and he nods. “I know. Thank you for this … really.”

A shy smile ghosts across your lips before you slip out, leaving Charles alone with his doubts and hopes alike. Over the next couple of days, he tries to distract himself with race prep and strategy meetings, but his mind keeps drifting back to you and your mysterious preparations. He’s not sure whether to feel hopeful or just plain foolish for entertaining all of this curse nonsense.

Finally, Thursday afternoon rolls around and you arrive once more at his door, looking oddly serene. You accept his offered glass of wine this time as you settle on the couch, clutching the battered racing glove and a few other strange items.

“Okay,” you say, taking a fortifying breath. “I’ve done what I can to attune myself to your energy and prepare. I should be able to at least get a sense now of what we’re dealing with.”

Charles nods, feeling an anxious flutter in his chest as you close your eyes, seeming to slip into some kind of trance-like state. The seconds tick by, tension building in the air around you. Just when he’s about to break the silence, your eyes fly open with a gasp.

“Wow,” you breathe out, looking utterly stunned. “This is … wow.”

“What?” Charles prods urgently. “What did you see?”

You shake your head, almost looking scared now. “I’ve never encountered anything like this. The sheer scale, the power … Charles, this isn’t just some simple bad luck curse. This is dark, powerful magic rooted over years and years. Maybe even generations.”

A leaden feeling sinks into the pit of Charles’ stomach at your ominous words. “So you’re saying you can’t break it?”

“I didn’t say that.” You draw in a steadying breath. “But it’s not going to be easy. Or quick. This is going to take serious ritual work over an extended period of time. I’ll need more supplies, maybe some help from others. It’s … a huge undertaking.”

You look up at Charles, expression grave. “But I think I can do it. If you’re willing to fully commit and see this through, no matter how long it takes or what I need from you, then I’ll put everything I have into breaking this curse.”

Charles stares at you for a long moment, feeling the weight of what you’re saying. This is so much bigger than he ever imagined. Part of him wants to run from the sheer enormity of it all.

But then he pictures it — finally winning his home race after all these years, the crowd roaring as he drinks in the euphoric feeling. No more bad luck, no more disasters clouding his joy. Just pure triumph.

His jaw sets in determination as he meets your eyes. “Whatever it takes. I’m in.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “Okay then. We’ll get started right away. This may get … intense at times. But I’ll be right here with you every step of the way.”

“Thank you,” Charles says fervently. “Truly, thank you for taking this on.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you reply, something sparking in your eyes. “We’ve got work to do.”

And just like that, you dive into preparation mode — making lists, sending messages, gathering spell ingredients and components that have Charles raising his eyebrows more than once. He tries to follow along as best he can, but it’s like a foreign language to him.

After a while, he can’t help but ask. “So … did you always know you could do this kind of thing? The witchcraft, I mean?”

You pause, considering his question. “It’s a family tradition, passed down. My grandmother started teaching me from a very young age. But I’ll be honest … I never fully embraced it until recently.”

Charles feels himself grow curious. “What changed your mind?”

A strange look crosses your face and you’re quiet for a moment before replying. “My grandmother was ill. The doctors had … given up, more or less. So in desperation, I tried to help the only way I knew how. And it … worked, somehow. After that, it was hard to keep denying what I could do.”

“Wow,” Charles says softly. “That’s amazing. I can’t even imagine ...”

You shrug, suddenly looking almost shy. “It’s a lot, I know. Probably hard to wrap your head around. Which is why I appreciate you being so open-minded about this.”

Charles gives you a crooked smile. “Well, I’m relying on you here. I figure I should at least return the favor and be open-minded.”

A surprising laugh escapes you and you shake your head in amusement. “You’ve got a point there.”

A surprisingly comfortable silence lapses between you, broken only when you glance at your watch. “Alright, enough waiting around. We should get back to work if we want to be ready before race day.”

Charles feels nervous anticipation flutter in his chest again. “You really think we can pull this off that quickly?”

“We have to try,” you reply, already focused and in work mode once more. “Just be prepared … this isn’t going to be easy for either of us.”

Charles swallows hard and nods. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

Over the next several days, Charles is swept up in a whirlwind of strange rituals and practices — chanting, incantations, symbolic offerings, things he never could’ve imagined before this week. You lead him through it all with a calm patience, guiding him every step of the way.

It’s completely draining, leaving him wrung out and exhausted every night … but he can’t deny the noticeable shift he feels with each passing day too. It’s almost like a weight, a cloud of dread he’s carried for years, is slowly dissipating. He tries not to get his hopes up, but it’s hard … especially with the way your face glows with quiet pride whenever your eyes meet his.

Finally, the night before the race arrives. You’ve worked practically around the clock except for when Charles had to leave for free practice and qualifying, both of you barely sleeping or eating as you poured everything into breaking the curse.

As the sun sets over Monaco’s famed harbors and hills, you finally seem to pause, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I think … I think that’s everything we can do for now.”

Charles stares at you with a mixture of hope and trepidation. “You mean … it’s done? The curse is broken?”

You exhale slowly, looking suddenly drained but at peace. “As much as it can be, at least. The groundwork is laid, the ritual completed. But actually severing that kind of ancient tie ...” You shake your head. “We’ll have to see what happens tomorrow. I’ve done everything I can.”

Relief and gratitude wash over Charles as he reaches out to grasp your hand impulsively. “Thank you,” he says fervently. “For all of this … I can’t even begin to express how much it means.”

You seem surprised by his emotional outburst for a moment before squeezing his hand back gently. “You’re very welcome, Charles. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure I had it in me at first. But you put so much faith in me. That meant everything.”

He holds your gaze, feeling an unexpected sense of connection pass between you. So much has happened in such a short span of time — he came to you a skeptic, but now he feels like he’s been through a transformative experience. And you … you’ve put your entire being into helping him, far beyond any reasonable expectation.

The air almost seems to crackle with tension as you both search each other’s eyes. Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, you start leaning towards each other infinitesimally. Charles’ heart kicks up a staccato rhythm as your faces inch closer together ...

Until finally, your lips meet in a soft, almost hesitant kiss. It’s achingly gentle and sweet, at odds with the intensity thrumming underneath. When you finally part, Charles feels almost dazed, his heart pounding.

“Wow,” he breathes out, unable to tear his eyes away from yours. “That was ...”

“Yeah,” you murmur back, looking equally affected. “It was.”

A silence stretches out as you simply gaze at each other. So much has passed between you in these short days — an entire lifetime’s worth of intimacy and connection. It’s overwhelming and exciting all at once.

Finally, Charles seems to shake himself out of the dazed reverie. Clearing his throat, he says gruffly, “Anyway, um … thank you again. I should probably try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

“Right, of course,” you respond quickly, flushing slightly. “The race. Yes, that’s … probably a good idea.”

An awkward pause hangs in the air before Charles blurts out, “You’ll be there though, right? At the race, I mean? As my guest?”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He returns your smile, feeling lighter than he has in years. “Okay, good. That’s really good.”

With that, and one last lingering look, you gather your things and slip out, leaving Charles alone with his whirling thoughts and cautiously rising hope. He has no idea what tomorrow will bring — triumph or despair. But for the first time in his life, he feels like he’s not facing it alone.

As he climbs into bed that night, his mind keeps drifting back to that unexpected, electric kiss and the connection you seemed to share, if only for a moment. He can’t stop replaying it, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your skin ...

With a groan, Charles rolls over, trying in vain to shut off his thoughts. He needs to rest. Tomorrow is everything he’s been working towards for years — his best hope at finally ending the Monaco curse. And you’ll be there, your faith and magic bound to his dream.

Finally, Charles manages to drift into a restless sleep, his unconscious mind swirling with visions of chequered flags and your smiling face in the crowd. Whatever happens, he knows nothing will ever be the same after tomorrow.

***

The next morning dawns bright and clear, a perfect Monaco day. As Charles gets ready to head to the circuit, he can’t shake the anxious flutter in his chest.

This is it. His moment of truth.

Just before he’s about to leave, a soft knock comes at the door. When he opens it, you’re standing there looking almost as nervous as he feels.

“Hey,” you say with a small smile. “Thought I’d come wish you luck in person. And … give you one last thing for the race.”

You hold out a small silk pouch which Charles takes curiously. Opening it up, he pulls out the same battered racing glove he’d given you days ago, now embroidered with strange runic symbols.

“I imbued it with every protection ritual and good luck charm I could think of,” you explain. “As an extra boost on top of the work we’ve already done. Maybe it’ll help settle those pre-race jitters too.”

Charles feels a wave of affection crest over him as he looks at the glove, then back up at you. “You’re incredible, you know that?” He says softly. “Truly, I don’t know how to thank you enough for everything.”

You duck your head shyly, but he can see the pleased flush on your cheeks. “You don’t need to thank me. Just go out there and get that win you’ve been waiting for, okay?”

“I will,” Charles promises fervently. He pauses, then seems to make a split-second decision, stepping forward to cup your face in his hands. “And when I do … I’m taking you out for the biggest celebration Monaco has ever seen.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you give a breathless little nod. “It’s a date then.”

The corner of Charles’ mouth quirks up. “It’s a date,” he echoes, letting his thumb brush over your cheekbone lingeringly before forcing himself to step back. “I should get going. But I’ll see you out there later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you confirm, looking almost as flustered as he suddenly feels. “Good luck, Charles.”

He shoots you one last, blazing look before tearing himself away, hurrying out to his waiting car. The entire drive to the circuit, his heart is pounding wildly in his chest. He can’t decide if it’s just pre-race adrenaline or something more … something sparked by you and that searing, promising look you gave him.

By the time he arrives, gets into his race suit and fireproofs, and settles into the cramped cockpit of his Ferrari, Charles is wound up like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes keep drifting over to the embroidered glove still clutched in his hand, feeling the weight of everything it represents — your devotion, your magic, and the hope of finally breaking free from years of heartbreak.

As the cars are wheeled out onto the grid and the pre-race festivities begin, Charles scans the garage until his eyes finally land on you. You’re standing with a perfect viewpoint, eyes already locked on him, and when you catch his gaze you mouth “Good luck“ with an encouraging smile.

A determination like he’s never felt before surges through Charles’ veins. He’s going to win this race, not just for himself but for you too after everything you’ve sacrificed. Giving a firm nod, he slips the glove beneath his suit and grips the steering wheel tightly, watching the lights flick from red.

And as they finally go green and the cars roar away, Charles leans into the first turn in pure focus and exhilaration. For once, his mind is clear of any doubt or dread about the Monaco curse. He can only think about racing, about achieving his dream ...

And afterwards, celebrating that dream coming true with you.

***

As the deliriously happy celebrations continue around him at Monza, Charles can barely catch his breath. The euphoria of a hard-fought victory is still pulsing through his veins, that cherished feeling never getting old no matter how many times he experiences it.

He’s in the middle of accepting congratulations from his mechanics when he sees a Sky Sports reporter, making a beeline for him with her microphone in hand. Trying to tamp down his giddy smile slightly, he turns to face her.

“Charles! Huge congratulations on another amazing win today,” the reporter gushes as soon as she reaches him. “You’re really hitting your stride this season, what a comeback from the early struggles.”

“Thank you. Yes, the team has been doing incredible work to get me a car capable of winning,” Charles replies graciously. “I’m just thrilled to be able to deliver for them.”

“And for the fans too, who have been utterly captivated watching this gripping title battle unfold,” she continues. “Speaking of which, I have to ask — the viewers have been flooding us with one question in particular recently. What’s the story behind those little symbols that keep popping up on your race suit collar? Some kind of good luck charms maybe?”

At the mention of the embroidered symbols, Charles feels his lips quirking up into a small, unconscious smile. He should have known someone would eventually ask about them — the fans on social media have certainly been speculating endlessly.

“Ah, you spotted those?” He says lightly. “Well, it’s um … it’s actually something my girlfriend does for me before every race weekend.”

The reporter’s eyes widen with obvious interest, scenting a prime bit of gossip. “Your girlfriend? We had no idea you were dating someone, Charles! Do tell us more.”

Charles lets out a slightly self-conscious chuckle, feeling the tips of his ears going pink. He’s intensely private about his personal life, preferring to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible. But the story behind the symbols is too meaningful to brush off entirely.

“Yes, well my girlfriend prefers to stay out of the public eye,” he explains carefully. “Let’s just say she comes from a rather … unique background and heritage. She has certain talents and practices that are very important to her.”

The reporter blinks at him in obvious confusion. “Wait, is she some kind of … psychic or something?”

“Not exactly,” Charles demurs, fighting back an amused grin at the mental image. “More like … well, I suppose you could call her a witch, of sorts.”

A shocked silence falls over the surrounding reporters who have tuned into their exchange. For a long beat, no one seems to know how to react to such an unexpected revelation. Charles doesn’t think he’s ever seen the media look so bemused before.

Finally, the reporter seems to find her voice again. “A … witch?” She repeats slowly. “As in, like, cauldrons and broomsticks and the whole bit?”

Charles lets out a full laugh at that. “Well, not quite like that, no. But she does practice certain … rituals and magics, let’s say. Most of which, I’ll admit, still seems completely mad to me.”

The reporter’s expression is one of fascination now as she leans in closer with her microphone. “And she does these rituals and … magics ... for you? Before races?”

“Exactly,” Charles confirms with a nod. “She adds protective symbols and charms onto things like my race suit, my helmet, sometimes other items depending on the ritual. It’s her way of looking out for me, of sending some extra luck and security my way on race weekends.”

He pauses, his smile softening unconsciously as he thinks about you. “I’ll be honest, I was pretty skeptical of it all at first. The whole concept of witchcraft and curses seemed ... well, rather far-fetched, you know? But she’s been so devoted to her practices, so sincere in her beliefs about the positive energies she wants to send my way … how could I not start to believe in it too?”

The media seems to be hanging on his every word now, caught up in this bizarre but undeniably romantic tale. The reporter lets out a wistful sigh. “Well, it’s clearly been working like a charm so far this season! Maybe the rest of the grid had better start looking into getting their own race day witches on board.”

A ripple of laughter spreads through the group at that as Charles shakes his head in amusement. “Yes, I can see that becoming very popular around the paddock.”

“So does she come to all the races then, your witch girlfriend?” Another reporter pipes up curiously. “Is she wandering around doing spellwork in the backrooms?”

“Oh, no no, nothing like that,” Charles chuckles. “She prefers to keep things … subtle, let’s say. Just the little symbols and charms. Though she is here today actually.”

The reporter’s eyes light up like she’s just struck journalistic gold. “She is? And does she get to celebrate with you after wins like this?”

A soft, almost shy smile plays across Charles’ lips as he nods. “Yes, whenever her schedule allows she tries to come to the races. And we’ll definitely be celebrating together tonight, just us.”

He gets a slightly far-off look in his eyes, seeming to get lost in the thought for a moment. The reporters watching on collectively hold their breaths, waiting for him to divulge more juicy details about this mysterious girlfriend.

Finally, Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat. “But anyway, I should really get back to the team to share this incredible day with them properly.”

The reporter makes one last attempt. “Oh, go on, just give us her name at least? Enquiring minds want to know about this charming race day witch of yours!”

Charles throws her an apologetic look. “You know I have to protect her privacy. All I can say is … she’s pretty remarkable. And she’ll probably hex me if I start giving out too many details about her!”

Laughs and groans of disappointment rise up from the reporters at being denied the full scoop. But they know better than to push Charles too far. With some final shouted congratulations, they gradually disperse, no doubt rushing off to publish their articles about the shocking revelation of Charles Leclerc’s witchy girlfriend.

As the small crowd clears out, Charles feels a light touch on his elbow and turns to find you standing there, eyes sparkling with amusement and fondness.

“Well, you’ve certainly given the paddock something to gossip about now,” you tease lightly. “A charming race day witch, am I?”

Charles makes a show of rolling his eyes, even as his cheeks flush a bit at your teasing. “What was I supposed to tell them? You know how much I hate discussing our personal lives with the media.”

“I know, I know.” You rise on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I thought it was … sweet, actually. How you talked about my practices.”

Charles’ expression softens as he gazes down at you. Ever since that electric evening in Monaco when you first worked your magic on the infamous curse (and him), your relationship has deepened into something truly beautiful. At first, he admits he was still somewhat skeptical of the mystical rituals and protective charms you claimed to do for him.

But race after race, as the victories kept mounting with no traces of bad luck or mishaps, he’s become nearly as devoted a believer as you. And it goes far beyond just race day superstitions now. Seeing the depth of your spirituality, your connection to unseen mystical forces, has opened his eyes in so many ways.

He pulls you flush against him, cupping your face tenderly as he murmurs, “I meant every word. What you do … it means everything to me, you know that right? Whether the magic is real or not, your rituals give me a sense of peace and security I’ve never felt before.”

You gaze up at him with those captivating eyes that never fail to make his heart stutter. “I know. And that’s why I’ll never stop doing them for you. You make me feel … connected. Vital. Like my gifts can actually make a positive impact, instead of being some weird family quirk.”

Charles lets his thumb gently trace the delicate line of your cheekbone, drinking in every detail of your beloved face. “They do make an impact, mon cœur. Probably more than either of us can comprehend.”

He draws you into a lingering kiss, one that sends delicious sparks of heat ricocheting through his body. When you finally break apart, you’re both smiling and slightly flushed.

“Mmm, I should really start charging the team for services rendered, if that’s the payment plan,” you joke breathlessly.

Charles arches one eyebrow at you. “Trust me, they would go broke in a week trying to keep up.”

You let out a full laugh at that, the musical sound making his heart swell. He loves this — the moments of playful intimacy and banter, feeling so incredibly grounded and content with you. Before you came into his life, such tender domesticity always seemed like an impossible dream given his lifestyle.

Pulling you close once more, he nuzzles into the soft skin of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs huskily. “I have a victory to properly celebrate … and I require your particular skills again tonight.”

You shiver slightly in his arms, drawing back just enough to fix him with a heated look. “My skills are always at your service. Shall we summon a portal or ...”

He huffs out a laugh at your playful tone, secretly loving when you tease him about the more fanciful aspects of witchcraft. “Why don’t we just take the car for now? No need to alarm the locals by apparating in the middle of the paddock.”

Chuckling, you lean up to steal one more lingering kiss before murmuring, “Deal. Now let’s get out of here before that reporter comes sniffing around for more gossip.”

Taking his hand, you start leading him away from the crowded pit lane and back toward the nearby motorhomes. With every step, Charles can feel the thrum of excitement building in his veins, fueled by much more than just the adrenaline of his race win.

There’s a steady warmth pulsing deep within him now, a sense of gratitude and contentment that suffuses his very soul. Ever since that fateful day in Monaco when he let you into his life, everything has shifted into vibrant new focus.

He’s never been superstitious, not really — he prides himself on being practical, logical, leaving little room for spiritual or religious beliefs. And yet … with you, a whole unseen mystical world has opened up to him in the most extraordinary way. Even if he still doesn’t fully understand the intricacies of your rituals and practices, he knows with certainty how they make him feel.

Protected. Centered. Empowered.

Loved, more deeply than he’s ever experienced.

As you make your way hand-in-hand through the chaos of post-race celebrations, trading giddy grins and teasing jokes, Charles feels it all shining outward from his very core — past the fame, the accomplishments, the never-ending pressures of being an elite athlete. With you by his side, he’s found a serenity and sense of self far beyond what any championship could provide.

So tonight, as you cuddle together and let your energies flow over him in that uniquely intimate way, he’ll pour every ounce of devotion and love he feels right back into you. Because in the end, that’s the most powerful force of all — one that transcends even the wildest of your spells and charms.

As long as you two are bound together on this path, no force in the universe could ever curse him again.

[donatellawritings]

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🐇 introducing princess!reader, ugh i love her sm <3

you were fairly new to kildare island, completely wet behind your chanel-adorned ears. it had only been a few days, since your parents had made the switch from the cozy countryside of puerto rico, unpacking their final cardboard box that harshly clashed against the dreamy interior of your bright and sunny lakeside home. you weren’t surprised that your parents had chosen such a picturesque home of grandeur, they always had a niche for the finer things in life, a trait that was undoubtedly passed down to you.

you see, you had always been a spoiled princess, always insisting of having anything and everything that you wanted — and it was always given to you, without question. perhaps it was the fact that you were an only child? who cares, you were the precious little girl that your parents would go to the ends of the earth for, so why should you accept anything less, from anyone else?

as privileged as it may seem, you did have to admit that you loved living a life where you were pampered and had every single need, no matter how minute or ridiculous, fulfilled without question. you always wore the finest of fabrics from the most upscale brands, exercised in the cutest athleisure wear as you worked up a sweat on your peloton, i mean, you even made it a point to get your hair and nails done every other week. your parents’ banking statements were essays long, detailing your multiple visits to sephora, mainland boutiques, your hefty car note, and monthly spa membership fees.

but, you were far from a ditzy girl, in fact, you were so entitled to the point where you turned your button nose upward at every guy who approached you. you had yet to find a man who didn’t allow you to walk him like a pathetic little dog, you knew that you needed a man who would put you in your place, yet shower you with adornment and lavish gifts.

carefully scraping the tiny smear of residual lipgloss with the tips of your long almond french-manicured nails, you huffed as you flipped your blown-out hair over your shoulder. “ma, m’going to drop this off now!” you called out, tugging on your light grey mini skirt, your fingers dancing over the black lace and pink ribbon adornment, before you grabbed ahold of the white ceramic tray of lemon squares that your mother prepared the night prior.

you’d been given the task of introducing yourself to your neighbors, especially since you father had made it a point to extend the services of his construction company to the fellow members of the country club. your parents had praised you for being their sweet little girl who would be staying home for college to the community, so it was now your turn to seal your reputation as the perfect girl next door, and help uphold your parents’ fresh reputation as newcomers on figure 8.

your perky tits were cutely pushed up against the undone buttons of your undersized button up top, your gold rosary glinting against the sunlight as you made your chanel mules stepped out on the floorboards of your front porch.

𝜗୧

after about an hour of walking from door to door and exchanging your rehearsed pleasantries, while offering the sweet and tangy sticky treat, you’d finally made it to the final home that seemed to overlook the entirety of the community. your puffy cheeks ached from your stretched smile as the soles of your french-pedicure feet throbbed — maybe wearing heels as you walked from porch to porch wasn’t the smartest idea? balancing the tray of lemon gooey lemon squares onto one hand, you brushed a strand of hair from your extended lashes, letting out a small huff, before you mushed your finger into the doorbell.

it didn’t take long before the front door was answered, your rehearsed introduction flitting away from you as you looked up at the blue eyes that stared down at you. your lipstick stained lips parted as the twenty-something year old man stood, his jaw tight as he raised his eyebrows at you, before his eyes shamelessly fell to your pushed-up tits, “i, uh, hi! my family and i recently moved in, so i just wanted to introduce myself,” you smiled, a blush creeping to your cheeks as you revealed your name to the tall man.

“ah, s’that right?” he questioned, clearing throat with a nod to himself as he took it upon himself to lift the plastic wrap that concealed the melted lemon squares, before his curtain bangs fell in front of his eyes. “y’walked all the way here, by yourself, huh,” he mumbled, placing the wrapping to close around the tray, before bringing his intimidating gaze to yours.

with a nod, you nudged the tray in his direction, “would you like one? my mother made them fresh!” you beamed, restoring your role as the mannered girl next door, your trained resolve slowly burning away under the unforgiving north carolina sun.

oh, how he saw right through you.

wordlessly, the young man lifted the plastic wrap, one more, being the small gooey treat to his lips as he kept his eyes on yours, not missing the way you swallowed thickly as he wiped the corners of his pink lips with his ringed index finger and thumb. you watched pathetically with your lips parted as he licked over his lips, “rafe cameron,” he smiled smugly, extending a hand to you.

there was something dark, yet tantalizing about the young man that towered over you, it even brought an undeniable ache to the bundle of nerves between your plush thighs.

accepting his hand, you batted your dolly lashes at rafe, a warmth growing in your tummy as his large hand enveloped yours in a firm grip, his thumb barely kneading into the soft skin between your forefinger and thumb.

deciding to fall back into your stuck-up persona, you were the first to break the hold between you and race, your eyes squinting a bit as you took one step backwards, “it was a pleasure, rafe,” you sang, clutching the empty tray to be tucked into your side.

spinning on your heels, you could feel rafe staring at the under-curve of your soft ass that peeked beneath the tight knit fabric of your skirt, watching as your hips swayed with each step you took. it wasn’t until you were far enough from the young man that you tugged on your skirt to remain secure around your thighs. internally, you scolded yourself for losing event the slightest bit of your cool. you were too good for him, you were too good for him. way too good.

rafe knew this as well, yet he was always proactive when it came to getting what he wanted — even if he had to get a little dirty.