#neither of them are cooperating

[stvrchaser]

second chances

( pairing ) : sparrow!ben hargreaves x umbrella!gn reader 

( about ) : the brellies lost ben, but the sparrows lost the reader. the two reunite, but ben doesn’t seem so eager to catch up.

( warnings ) : angst, they actually hate each other – ben is a pain in the ass, the reader is no better, no happy ending bc they never resolve the problem… happy reading!

( words ) : 1800

( note ) : the person who requested this scenario asked for angst and i took that personally… anyway, the dialogue popped up in my head and i just had to write it down. i didn’t specify whether the feelings are romantic or not, so it’s really up to interpretation. also, i think this is the first work i’ve written in the past tense… no clue why i did that but my brain just wouldn’t have it any other way. i hope you guys don’t mind (but please leave your thoughts. i might keep writing in past tense in the future, if you guys prefer it)

*** also im really sorry about any duplicated paragraphs below the cut! i have trouble with this every time but i just can’t seem to get the formatting right :(

People don’t change overnight — everyone knows that. A person is too complex to turn over a new leaf in such a short span of time. Still, you dared to hope.

Things had gone well last night, all things considered. With the influence of alcohol and some newfound optimism for the newly-weds, Ben Hargreeves — the one who seemed to suck the life out of everyone whose oxygen he breathed — had been surprisingly tolerable. You’d hoped for it to last.

A stupid assumption, really.

From the way he stepped out of the elevator, alone, you should have known better than to keep your hopes up.

“Hey. You’re awake,” you greeted him, careful not to sound too chipper. Every second spent with him was calculated; each step held the potential to destroy the progress you’ve made, if any.

“Hey. You’re awake,” you greeted him, careful not to sound too chipper. Every second spent with him was calculated; each step held the potential to destroy the progress you’ve made, if any.

Situated by the kitchen counter, you made the best of what you had to cure a hangover — just a variation of tea, coffee, milk, sugar, and water. You supposed it made sense that your options were so limited. One can’t exactly go grocery shopping when most of the world is in ruins. You poured Ben a cup of tea, anyway. “Is Klaus on his way down?”

“How am I supposed to know?” he snapped. Whatever had been left of you that hoped things would change for the better suddenly retreated. It was as if he’d taken a needle to puncture your hypothetical bubble.

“Oh.” You tried not to sound too bitter. “Sorry. I assumed you guys patched things up after last night. You were practically attached at the hip.”

“There’s nothing to ‘patch up.’ We don’t even know each other.” He was being particularly nasty, spitting words like venom. You refused to stoop down to his level.

“Here. Have some tea,” you offer, setting the cup in front of him. Then, to lighten the mood, you tried to joke. “I don’t think the timeline changed your tastebuds, too.” He didn’t react, at first.

Seconds later, the change in him was almost palpable. It flashed through his eyes and coursed through him with such intensity that you swore you felt something in him snap.

It made him furious that you knew he preferred to take tea over coffee. Even worse, you knew exactly how to brew it. Except, of course, you didn’t know how he takes his tea. He’d never told you that. Well, not this version of you. You knew how to make Ben – the other Ben – his tea. This was just another excuse to compare the two of them again.

“Could you idiots stop smothering me?” He pushed the cup aside, a trail of steam left in its wake. The familiar hint of bergamot was intoxicating. Haunting. It flooded his senses, and while its scent was something he normally welcomed, the circumstance had made it strangely unsettling.

“We’re just trying to get to know you.” That was familiar, too – the infuriating, confounding, expected tone of compassion. One he hadn’t heard in years.

“Take the hint! I don’t want to get to know you. Any of you. I was drunk last night. Klaus kept bothering me. If I was sober, I wouldn’t have—”

Your blood boiled with fury to match his own. The personal jabs at yourself were bad enough, but there was something about the insults directed elsewhere — toward Klaus, of all people — that was simply unacceptable.

“That’s not fair,” you cut him off, your voice suddenly changed. You didn’t sound quite angry, but determined to get your defense across. “Klaus was trying to—”

“I don't care!” His fists slammed against the counter, the teacup trembling as he did. It creates a ripple, resembling that of a storm and the strong wind which might disturb the sea. Had you not been in the eye of the storm, it might have been mesmerizing. “It doesn’t seem like the rest of your siblings do, either. It’s just you and Klaus. You can stop pretending to give a shit. Maybe that’ll get him off my back.”

“Fine,” you surrendered. You meant it this time. “I’ll leave you alone. Just… go easy on Klaus, alright?” But Ben’s mouth kept plowing through your patience, like he didn’t believe you were willing to admit defeat so easily.

That was one thing they didn’t have in common, this stranger and your friend. Your Ben would have been smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“You don’t even know me. I’m not your Ben. I’m not pathetic—”

“Stop it.” Your rage punctured through your patience, bleeding out in continuous droplets, steady like the ticking of a clock. “You can say whatever you want about the rest of us, but I won’t let you ruin what we have left to remember him by. Everybody loved Ben. And the fact that they were trying to get to know you meant they could have loved you, too.” You stopped yourself to draw a breath, to express your disbelief and to keep your voice steady. “Hell, they probably still do. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been a dick this entire time. Right now, you’re the closest thing we have.” The explanation only upset him.

“You sure have a fucked up way of showing it. When you walked into the Academy, what were you planning to do? Erase us out of existence? And now that you can’t do that you’re trying to play nice so we’ll do whatever you say? You don’t love me — whatever that means to you people. You probably didn’t even love your Ben.”

You had the urge to send the steaming cup flying into him so that he might feel the way his words burn. You settle and retaliate in the closest fashion.

“I’m not playing some sort of game here. We’re not trying to manipulate you into believing that you’re better off on our side. You have a family. I get that. But have you considered that, maybe, it’s so difficult to believe that we loved you in another timeline because you’ve never felt loved like that here?” Ben tensed, and you knew he considered the possibility. You knew you hurt him, too.

“You’ll say anything to convince me, won’t you?”

Maybe you would have. Maybe, you would stoop so low to exploit his grief just so he could acquaint himself with the guilt and misery you’ve suffered — agony he couldn’t care less about unless, perhaps, he learned to suffer it too.

“You want proof? All of us left the Academy the moment we could. It didn’t matter that we had nothing to our name or… or that didn’t know anything about the world. We left because there wasn’t any reason to stay. But we fell apart way before that. Do you know why? It’s because one of us died. Our Ben died. It was bad enough when Five disappeared, but at least we could hope he was somewhere out there. We could hope that we might see him again. We buried Ben’s body. And we were so distraught that we let it tear us apart. We would have done anything to have him back, even for just a day. We still want to, to make up for every year we wasted when he was around and didn’t prove to him that we loved him. We would do anything to make up for every year we’ve grieved after we lost him. If you’d just give us the chance, we could show you.”

“No! You leave me out of this. You fucked up the first time around. That’s on you. I’m not gonna be your second chance or whatever to make you feel better about yourselves. You’re just upset because we pulled ourselves together.”

His words struck hard, leaving lacerations the size of rivers in jagged topography. Had the damage been physical, you were sure it would have bled you to death. But it wasn’t. Somehow, that made it worse.

Somehow, bearing the truth in mind prolonged a bleeding heart. And it wouldn’t stop so long as you lived.

“You know what, you’re right. I’m pretty fucking upset about that, too.” Ben looked surprised. You thought it might have been the only expression you’d ever seen on him, aside from bitterness. “I died in this timeline, didn’t I? I died for the same reason you did. But look at all of you.” You might have laughed. Or sobbed. But a noise escaped you for just a split second, and Ben seemed to realize what you were suggesting. “The Sparrow Academy stays standing, even after what happened to me, didn’t it? I’m the one you didn’t care about.”

“Don’t turn this around.”

“No,” you hiss through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to belittle my family because we miss our brother. You don’t get to think you’re so much better when the only reason you’ve gotten this far is because you don’t give a shit about anyone else.” You let your tears fall, but your demeanor never faltered, not even as you approached him, eyes ablaze. “Being cold and heartless might have given you an upper hand, but that does not make you better than me.”

He leaned closer, still seated on the stool. Mocking. With only a marble countertop setting you feet apart, the end of the world wasn’t consuming the rest of the world outside. 

Damn the Kugelblitz, really. The end of the world should have started in that room.

“No, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re all weak. You never stood a chance. You were always going to fall apart.”

“At least I’m trying to get it together. I’m trying to piece my family back together. I tried to get to know you because I thought, somewhere in there, I could find Ben. My Ben. I just wanted my family whole again. But you? You don’t even care that I’m here.”

He shouldn’t, he thought. It didn’t matter that you and the Y/N he knew had so much in common — more than he and the other Ben, anyway. You weren’t the same. Not really. You never would be.

“Because you’re not Y/N. They would have never been so pathetic.” 

You let out a laugh, dispensed in short breaths, each of which seemed to force him to sink lower into his seat.

“And I’m sure they trusted you with their life, didn’t they?” 

Your voice sounded patronizing, but held a greater cruelty than you imagined. While impossible to envision, you had meant to this stranger as much as Ben had meant to you. Suggesting that the sentiment wasn’t returned… 

Well, it would haunt him as Ben’s death haunted you. 

“I’m sure they felt comfortable enough, safe enough, to be vulnerable around you. A cold, selfish bastard.”

“You don’t know anything,” his voice trembled. He looked pale. Undone.

Distraught.

You delivered the final blow.

“I know that no version of myself would have ever trusted, much less loved, someone like you.”

[howcouldtheyletmebeanadult]

So...

holy shit this conversation, i have. so many thoughts.

i'm like, 80% sonic is gonna face some kind of betrayal from either dread or nine

[i3utterflyeffect]

Imagine being victim in stick!noogai au

This guy creates and tries to kill you so you trap him with in the computer and he is actually a very scared kid. No idea how to fight, backing away from you and panicking. Completely baffling and probably even makes victim angrier at first.

And if he never draws Chosen then victim is just stuck with this kid that is straight up sobbing

honestly the awkwardness was mostly outdone by the anger of chosen punching them (chosen just has a habit of punching people in this au i think) but without Chosen showing up it's really just a situation of 'wow, we're really both stuck here now. this is kind of pathetic huh'

[futureempressoftheuniverse]

when something has been banned from places both bc it's considered blasphemous and bc it's considered religious propaganda (for the same religion it was blaspheming) then you know it's got something

[moderndayamymarch]

he’s a ten but he’s currently committing long term identity fraud and is a deserter of the us army

[insecuregodcomplex]

for no particular reason

[byanyan]

icb I cleaned out some really old drafts that I kinda didn't want to let go of in order to bring down my number of drafts... only to save several answers to reply to and like several starter calls until my draft number got even bigger than it was before

[caterpillarinacave]

I am

on

the floor

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[dduane]

Had an idea you might be able to use for something: Klingon Soap Operas.

(sigh)

Thanks for the thought. I appreciate your kindness!

But unfortunately, because you've sent me the idea and I've read it, I can now not use it, ever. No matter how much I might like to.

This isn't about you, you understand. And in its way it probably seems like a cruel paradox. You were only trying to be helpful! But if I was working on something for Trek and this concept came up even in casual discussion, I would be honor-bound (and contractually required) to inform them that the idea had come to me from a reader or fan. And then—rightly, from their point of view—they would forbid me to use it, because the idea's originator might some day, despite all their friendly intentions now, sue them over it. And the evidence that I was at fault would be easy to obtain. Sending a DM on any major platform generates an electronic "paper trail" that will confirm its target has opened and read the message in question. And that electronic record can be subpoenaed and submitted as evidence, and would stand up in court.

"Oh, come on, who'd do a thing like that, what are the odds...?" people will say. But it's not generally known that I've already been involved in a high-stakes lawsuit in which someone tried to sue Mattel over material I wrote when developing the initial form of the "Barbie: Fairytopia" universe (and the first Fairytopia film) for them. I'd never so much as met or communicated with the person suing them, had never read even a word of their work... but they still went to great trouble and expense attempting to prove that I'd had access to their material and used it without permission.

Mattel won the suit (as I'd frankly been expecting: the attorney handling their defense was one of the most expert IP lawyers in the US). But it gave me the chills... and made it clear how very wrong things could go, and the kind of damage that could be done to my career and my personal life, if I even accidentally used ideas from unauthorized sources.

Seriously, folks. I know you all mean well! But please don't make me tap the sign. DO NOT SEND ME STORY IDEAS, no matter how vague or general or unformed they may be. To do so is to absolutely guarantee that they will never, ever happen.* (And in my own universes, your innocently-meant suggestion could mean that neither you or anyone else will ever see that particular Young Wizards or Middle Kingdoms plot, no matter how much you'd like to... because I take this stuff seriously.)

...Thanks, all.

*This is also why I don't read fanfic set in my universes. Which you also shouldn't send me: please and thank you.

ETA: I would really, really appreciate it if y'all would refrain from giving @eldritchcatpossumamalgam grief in the tags. They made an honest, well-intentioned mistake, that's all, and they don't deserve to be personally raked over the coals for it. (And any of you who think I would derive any kind of satisfaction from that happening plainly don't know me very well.) So thanks in advance for your cooperation.

[harmonysanreads]

Thinking about being shared between Yandere!Dr Ratio and Yandere!Aventurine.

But instead of being locked up in one room, they let you roam free—or at least, as free as two of the most overbearing men will deem fit. These two have no disagreement in terms of their intentions concerning you and can communicate almost seamlessly in this regard. Be not mistaken though, neither of them are particularly fond of this arrangement, but they'd much rather shake hands on the fact that their cooperation will be mutually beneficial instead of partaking in pointless feuds.

And their theory on this is quite credible ; Aventurine is more spontaneous and inconsistent with his affections while Ratio is more grounded. Albeit, Aventurine's job contributes to this, being out on missions and tasks when the IPC demands it. As such, when he does have you all to himself, his pent up frustrations and adoration rain down all at once. He's the most susceptible to your whims, just mention the name and he'll present it to you through any means. Never forget to thank him with a kiss or something similar within the first hour though, does he not deserve it?

Consequently, you end up spending most of your time with Ratio. He prefers to keep you in his vicinity at any given moment, though hardly do you end up conversing about menial topics. If his work involves sitting down for a prolonged time, it is a rule that you must perch atop his lap and remain still. If he's heading to a bath, you must accompany him, regardless of which hour of the night it is.

You're either seen silently sitting by the side in Ratio's lectures, serving as damage control if his temper has been tested beyond limit ; or, hanging by Aventurine's arm as he flaunts you as his ‘lucky charm’ in casinos and parades you around in shopping malls.

You are not a mediator in their arguments, for you do not match their heights in intellectual factors. You do not have the final say in your cuisine or clothing if you're going out with them, though they might ask for your opinion once-in-a-blue-moon. You're constantly tossed back and forth, but you're not allowed to have a favorite, even if they may entertain the idea in playful moods. Behind one another's back, they slyly lure you to vent about how suffocatingly the other has treated you. You'd be wise to understand that it is nothing but a trap.

It's not so bad, if you have no problem being treated as a pampered pet more than a human being with autonomous thoughts, that is.

tldr: the crack image i have of this au is reader sitting very still while ratio tries to make a sculpture of them and aventurine showering money on them to piss off ratio

[comatose--overdose]

Jason: Actually, you stay out of it. I'll deal with Dent this time.

Bruce: What? No. Not a chance.

J: Why not? First of all, he likes me more than you at this point. he'll be more cooperative. Also he owes me like., 20 grand.

B: Why does Two-Face owe you $20,000??

J: Well, he may have two faces but it turns out neither of them are a poker face.

[etfrin]

❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ doll — coriolanus snow & clemensia dovecote ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | threesome, cum eating, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), fingering (f. receiving) | lmk if I forgot something

☆　Pairing: tutor! Clemensia x fem! Reader x tutor! Coriolanus

☆　Summary: headcanons and a drabble for tutor! Clemmie and Coryo <33

☆　A/N: I want them both so deal with it :/

masterlist | navigation | bc: @cafekitsune

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — you were just an assignment to them at first. They agreed to tutor you because of the extra credits.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — you weren't cooperative at first. Your eyes filled with annoyance, your words filled with animosity that neither Coryo nor Clemmie knew the reason for.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — turns out you were always bullied by the rich and privileged so you had already assumed them to be the same.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — you were proven wrong. Coryo felt sympathy for you, as you both lived in a similar situation. Coryo sneaks out food from the academy to share with you during your solo sessions with him.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — Clemensia bought food from home to share with you. Bringing in the finest cuisines that you could only dream about eating, you always had leftovers to give to Coryo later.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — this helped win them plus points with you, and you begin to earnestly pay attention to the lessons. Try your best to impress them.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — it started with ‘rewards’ Clemmie begins to give you with your good grades. For a C you would get dresses and more, a B would get you makeup and branded perfumes, and an A would get you everything mentioned before along with whatever you wanted.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — of course, it wasn't because she had grown attached to you and wanted to spoil you to no end. She had begun to like your smiles, and your laughs, the small gasp you made when you did something right. There's no doubt in her mind that you deserved these gifts. It certainly helped that all the clothes were tailored just for you and made you look like the doll you are for her.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — with Coryo’s financial situation, he couldn't spoil you with lavishing gifts. So he simply manipulated you into craving his praise, his validation instead. When you get something wrong, he looks at you with such disappointment that tears pool immediately but gosh, when you get something right. His blue eyes brighten, his lips pulling up in a smile so radiant that it blinds you, making you unable to see the cold man underneath.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — soon, both of them realize their feelings for you. However both of them know better than to fight for your attention, they both devise a plan to share their sweet little doll instead. They slowly coax you into a relationship with them. You don't even realize the web of traps you are getting into.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — the study sessions including both of them increase. You squeeze between Coryo and Clemmie as they teach you. You can't take in air with Clemmie's hot breathing down your neck, making you shiver. Her fingers laced with yours in something that you thought was platonic but was anything but. You couldn't think with Coriolanus so close to you. His lips inches away from yours as he goes on and on about the history of Panem.

How the fuck did he manage to make history sexy was a mystery never to be known.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — then it happened, you snapped, leaning forward to brush your lips against Coryo. And Clemensia begins to press her lips on your nape. Her arm around your waist, trapping you in like a snake's hold.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .

nsfw drabble ahead

It seemed like Clemmie had you trapped between her and Coryo. Her fingers unbutton the silk blouse she had gifted you. Her cold hand now pressed against your bare, hot-to-touch skin. She whispered to you, “My sweet doll. Kiss him back, nice and slow. There you go darling, you're so smart.”

You moan into Coriolanus's mouth as your cunt begins to soak through your panties from Clemmie's words. Coriolanus bites your lower lip, his body pressed against yours. His hands on your face, controlling the kiss, dominating you with no chance of escape. He doesn't break the kiss even when you can feel yourself getting dizzy from the lack of air.

You gasp when he finally does break the kiss. Clemensia by then had already unbuttoned your blouse and unclasped your lacy black bra (also gifted by her). Coriolanus felt his cock throb as he saw Clemmie's freshly manicured hands knead your breasts, making sure to pinch your nipples to get them hard and perky.

You looked like a slut like this. Your lips are swollen, your eyes wide and your body is aroused. He could feel his eyes darken with lust and he leaned down to begin kissing and licking your right breast while he left the left one to Clemensia's mentations.

He sucks your nipple, making sure his tongue swirls around the bud. He pays special attention, nipping the bud occasionally, savoring the cries of pleasure leaving your lips.

Meanwhile, Clemensia was pinching your other nipple, her free hand trailing down your body to free you of your skirt, along with the soaking wet lace panties. She giggles as her fingers swipe at your wet folds. Her digits gather your arousal, all sticky and white. “Taste this, Coryo,” she whispered, interrupting Coryo from putting hickeys all over your chest.

Coriolanus gladly accepts your taste on his tongue, he diligently licks up your juices from Clemensias’ fingers. The sight makes your pussy clench around nothing, a moan of pure want escaping your lips.

“Loosen her up for me, Clemmie,” he said as she pulls out her fingers to begin teasing your pussy again. Clemensia gladly agreed with Coryo. She whispered to you, her lips brushing against your ears, “Next time, I will bring the strap I specifically ordered for you, sweetheart. So it won't be only Coriolanus’ cock you feel next time.”

You couldn't reply anything, not when her fingers began to dip inside your gummy walls. Stretching you out to take Coriolanus's cock. She begins to thrust in her fingers inside your walls, with a gentle pace. Her thumb rubbing at your clit. She crooks her fingers perfectly, her fingertips rubbing at your g-spot, making you see stars as your body jolts from ecstasy.

Coriolanus calms you down with soft kisses on your lips. “She's good at this, huh?” He coos at you, the tip of his tongue catching the teardrops that fall from your eyes. “But you can take it, pet. You're made for us after all. Our doll.” You nod at his words. You would do anything to please them both.

“She’s ready, Coryo,” Clemensia said. She takes her fingers outside of your warm, wet walls and presses her fingertips to your lips until you take her digits inside. You moan around her fingers as your tongue tastes you for the time.

Coriolanus nods at Clemmie's words. He was positioning his cock to your entrance. He smirks at you. “You're gonna take it like a good girl,” he whispered, no, commands you. And with that, he thrusts into you. His cock now kissing your cervix, your pussy pulsating around him and your gummy walls burning from the stretch.

Clemensia eats up your scream, covering your lips with hers as Coryo lets you settle down. You whine, Clemmie's hands holding you down and Coriolanus's hands around your hips, gripping so tight that bruises would bloom soon.

It doesn't take long for Coriolanus to begin to roll his hips, his dick pounding into your heat without care for your pleasure. Meanwhile, Clemensia's hands roam all over your body, pinching and kneading the flesh. Her lips never leave yours. She occasionally leaned back whispered praises about how good you are, and how much she will stretch you out with her strap, and how good she will eat you after this. Each of her filthy fantasies had your cunt clenching around Coryo's cock and he groans, his lips attaching themselves to your pulse point on your neck.

He doesn't pay you or Clemensia any attention, fucking pussydrunk he was, merely chasing his pleasure from your cunt. With Clemmie's constant praises, her hands worshiping you, and Coriolanus sucking the darkest hickey on your skin, his cock stroking your walls, his cockhead grazing your spongy spot inside your walls with every thrust.

It didn't take you long to have your eyes roll back, your body turning into jelly. Coriolanus groans as his thrusts turn sloppy. He cums inside of you with no warning, his body falling on top of you as he gasps. He whines, “Such a good girl. Such sweet cunt, that's my doll.”

Clemmie chuckles, looking at your fucked out state. She was going to have fun with you as soon as you gained some energy. And she tells you exactly that as she gets up to bring you and Coryo glasses of water.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚

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[sugurism]

ah your red /green flag post was really good. How about doing the type of person they are most likely to be attracted to..and if they would fall first or harder?

FALLING DOWN. ୨ৎ jjk men: their type of person + fell first, or fell harder?ㅤheadcanons

featuring ♰ㅤmultiple. (choso, higuruma, megumi, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna, toge, toji, yuji, yuta)

warning(s)! ♰ㅤNO PRONOUNS AND ANATOMY FOR READER. SFW (?) — toxic behavior ! possession ! some are delusional + yandere implied ! again, very much made based on personal opinions + i tried to write the characters off as canon as possible, but my favoritism will probably show ! sukuna (he's a warning of his own) ! violence + blood + death (mentions) ! cannibalism (mentions) ! obsession and possession ! not really all dark content but i will tag as so just to be sure, sukuna's part is insane ! mentions about marriage ! sadomasochism ! suggestive (sexual ideas about you) !

author’s note ♱ㅤthank you for everyone who's enjoying the red / beige / green flag post! you're all so sweet, it made my day, truly. im so happy, and this suggestion was so fun, anon. a small reminder so no one gets lost, though — please, read my rules before interacting. i don't take requests, but i consider suggestions. wrote this because i enjoyed the idea! it's not good, though. wrote this in a hurry and im currently working on other WIPs. don't know if i liked the result, tbh.

୨୧ CHOSO KAMO — attracted to someone's soul. fell harder.

the type of people choso likes is honestly pretty hard to describe. he is a romantic by nature, even if he is not aware of it. he really likes someone willing to cooperate with him and his family. anyone with an honest desire to protect him and his family and allow themselves to be protected as well.

with a body that was given to him (a dead body, even), he cares very little about physical appearance. a large part of him seeks to understand the essence of those he loves so that he can understand them without saying a word.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was after a bloody battle. he was covered in blood and injuries while using his body's natural regeneration to recover. however, you forgot that ── you forgot his strength, you forgot his ability. you saw him as human as yourself, and by extension, fragile. bruised. mortal.

“choso! are you okay?” your warm hand touches his face, and choso's stomach twists at the thought of your delicate, perfect hands getting dirty because of his rotten blood. the blood of a cursed creature, neither human nor curse. and the way you look at him now: with affection, care. with the desire to want to protect him, as he would like to protect you.

and at this moment, he knows. what he feels is love. he feels like he's been struck by lightning, electrified to the last cell in his body. “y──yes. of course.”

god, he needs to marry you. now.

୨୧ HIROMI HIGURUMA — attracted to an opposed strength. fell first.

this is personally inspired by my view of higuruma (and inspired by oc), but it would be an amazing cliché if he fell in love with a prosecutor. it is not exactly a person, but rather a dynamic. hiromi's type of person is someone who can argue their convictions and has the determination to defend their point of view. the kind of person who could get him back on track. someone who would argue back if he were wrong.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was a very simple day. nothing unusual. the weather a little dark, a late afternoon full of heavy clouds threatening to pour their rain on him and you. when you looked at him and smirked after “winning” an argument, he felt his own heart skip a beat in a way he never thought it could before.

he wonders if you can notice. it's obvious, how could you not? how could he not notice it earlier, he wonders. for some reason, the idea makes hiromi flinch. his mouth opens to retort, but he gives up. will saying something make it obvious how much he is in love with you? he should wait before saying something. he can do that. he can wait and wonder, will someday, your heart jump like his, when he is around you?

୨୧ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO — attracted to chaos. fell harder.

this may sound ironic, but considering megumi's deranged nature during fights requires equal and opposite strength. aka, someone as passionate and convinced as himself. someone who will turn and smile at him with blood on their hands as everything explode around you two.

the moment he realized he was in love with you was during a fight against a curse. a simple exorcism, in theory, but one where a creature suddenly appeared and was about to make him lunch. until its interruption, of course. shouting as you annihilated a curse so far from his level just to protect him ── a determination and raw fire in his eyes. it made you look like you could do anything, even kill gods.

it made his mouth go dry and his cheeks grow red. and megumi knew, it wasn't from adrenaline. it was something much, much stronger.

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI — attracted to calmness and stability. fell harder.

nanami already has a very chaotic presence in his life. satoru gojo's ironic giggles and crude jokes are terrifying. his senpai's irreverent behavior will haunt kento until the day he dies. therefore, nothing fairer than a partner who is calm, but not in the way he is calm ── cold, slightly arrogant, semi-distant from everything that is real. calm as water, in a serene and subtle, loving way. someone to share his burdens and allow himself to be vulnerable with.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was — weird. stress gets to even the toughest of men, and someone under as much pressure as nanami, for all his composure, is still susceptible to it. the smallest things can make a stressed salaryman's day hell, like today.

nothing worked. absolutely everything backfired in the worst way possible. he spilled coffee on his jacket, had to ask for another one, where the barista got his order wrong, and in the end, he was almost late to start his work schedule. as he passed you through the jujutsu high campus (in order to avoid that tall, white ghost that terrifies his underclassmen to this day), you made him stop.

being an assistant teacher isn't exactly an easy job, considering the vast array of (potentially problematic) students that inhabit jujutsu schools. but you are always able to get them all on track without using a drop of harshness. there's a firmness to its sweetness, sure, but it's not intimidating. the brats even apologize to you honestly when they make mistakes.

when you see him, you wave gently and smile. and that smile makes kento exhale very slowly. the stress escaping him as if drained away. not entirely, but it was something. and nanami has a talent for spotting things that seem insignificant, but actually aren't.

oh, your smile. your smile always does this to him.

୨୧ SATORU GOJO — attracted to gentleness and honesty. fell first.

despite all the compliments satoru receives, he is completely sure that ninety-five percent of them are not at all sincere. it's like a poorly done bribe in an attempt to get the favor or appreciation of the strongest, because he will always be that. first the strongest sorcerer, then satoru. first a title and then a person. it's just how things work, there's no point complaining about them.

but a person who can honestly see him as a human being first and as who he is, beyond his title. a trustworthy and caring person, someone he can genuinely let his walls down with without it being a decision he regrets later.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was on the verge of death. well, not at the brink of his death, but at yours. so many things could happen if he wasn't around, and they did. a fight with a curse user, and your obvious victory, but at what price? now he was waiting at the hospital anxiously, his fingers drumming the arm of the chair as he watched each person pass by.

every doctor, every nurse, every one of those miraculous people who could save your life. every second melted into its own agonizing torture, and satoru couldn't understand why. why was it so hard to calm down? he has been here before, so many times, with other friends in their deathbeds. it was agonizing all the same, but somehow, now it seemed worse.

when they finally said he could enter, satoru wasted no time. walking through the door and lowering her sunglasses towards him. you and your bruised body, lying on the bed and slowly turning to look at him. smiling through the pain, and his lips parting to murmur. “’toru. you're here.”

he sat down in the nearby chair and chuckled slightly, feeling his worries disappear. your voice, so gentle and truthful. so happy to see him — a friend, someone dear. not the strongest sorcerer, but him. “yeah. of course, i am.”

୨୧ SUGURU GETO. — attracted to passion. fell harder.

passion is one of the determining driving forces that makes humanity the sinister creatures that they are. passion for something can be good, like artists who created revolutionary works and opened the world's eyes to their problems. or, it can be terrible, as in geto's case: his passion is the cult and his new world.

he would like someone who is as passionate about something as he is about this philosophy itself. bonus points if the passion in question is the philosophy itself, but any number of other things might be acceptable.

it's difficult to describe a moment where suguru realizes he's in love with you, without defining a passion of yours. maybe it's a hobby like art, or maybe it's caring for a pet. it's necessary context, but whatever it is, he realizes your determination and ends up completely falling in love with it. with you.

be it watching you smiling while finishing a painting, petting your cat proudly, or anything that reveals you're determined to stick to your own principles. like he will stick to his.

୨୧ SUKUNA RYOMEN. — attracted to violence. fell harder.

i saw a post once, talking about how a sukuna's ideal type (assuming he had one) really is someone who wants him dead. it's hard to explain it, but he's definitely attracted to the more disturbing aspects of a person. in particular, a taste for violence and independence.

however, he might not like it so much if this independence became a challenge. he is willing to allow very extensive freedom to any human who interests him ── within certain limits. a king must not allow the absolute insubordination of those beneath him, after all.

he wants someone raw, and visceral. bonus points if there is a possibility that he will mentally destroy you and turn you into some kind of obedient pet. someone who was not made to be his, but could become, if he shaped you to be his and only his. don't kings enjoy having pets? he should, as well.

the moment he realizes he is in love with you is definitely a bloody scenario. you have just ripped apart a curse with your bare hands. watching you like a hawk, he sees you — covered in purple blood and panting. sukuna wonders if you would show this same voracity in other situations.

if he took you to bed, would you agree happily, spreading your legs at him and laying down obediently for him to do as he pleases? or perhaps you would try to stab him, or open his chest with your bare hands, as you did with that inferior little creature? ripping his heart out, looking him in the eyes while you take a bite of it.

he licks his lips at the thought.

୨୧ TOGE INUMAKI — attracted to spontaneous and joy. fell first.

toge does not have the ability to communicate in words normally, due to his technique's nature. he is fortunate to have access to other means of communication ── cellphones, notepads, even sign language. but something that attracts him is the perspective of someone who understands him well, and who has the energy to speak for him.

the moment he realizes he is in love with you is during a conversation. he, you and his friends are all walking and gathered together, discussing casual things. even with the hectic routine that you all have, it is very important to have these moments where you can act like normal people and not just wizards (he will bring sweets for panda, to make up for him not being able to come).

maki turns around, asking what he wants to eat. toge considers for a few moments. he honestly doesn't feel hungry tonight, but before he can respond in his ingredient language, you look at him for a second and help him communicate.

“hey, wait! i don’t think he’s hungry. right, toge?” he nods, a little surprised that you can understand before he even says anything. and while the sounds of chatter disappear around him, he focuses on you and your face. you, who always pays attention to him. you, who understands him.

୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO — attracted to a mix of chaotic and calmness. fell harder.

the loss of mamaguro affected toji in indescribable ways. a man should never be forced to bury the love of his life, but that's what happened. as a result, he returned to bad habits and destroyed his own life. so, his type ends up being something very difficult to define. i think he would still like someone like mamaguro, but not completely. the type of person who can be chaotic as well as calm. someone who doesn't necessarily fix him again, but someone with whom he can see companionship and honesty. kind of like partners in crime.

of course he appreciates your kindness, but he really lacks showing it back. a part of him stays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why you're so good to him — when toji is fully aware he's not good enough for you. generally, he wouldn't mind. he moves from woman to woman, relationship to relationship, simply for money. why is he caring now?

the moment he realized he was in love with you was actually during an argument. toji is someone who is extremely difficult to deal with because of his relaxed and self-serving nature ── plus, he purposely acts annoying during fights, but you never freak out. well, today you freaked out. and while you're swearing at him from the rooftops and pointing accusingly, he can only stop and feel himself melting. for some reason.

it doesn't make sense, of course it doesn't make sense. but your calmness contrasted by such abrasive anger is extremely attractive. it's more than attractive. he feels like gasoline and you feel like a match. and god, how he wants to burn.

୨୧ YUJI ITADORI — attracted to gentleness, honesty, and pride. fell harder.

yuji's destiny has always been marred by constant and untimely misfortunes. he loses friends and fights, he fails in moments where he should win, and the destruction upon him is both physical and mental. but there is hope. a kind person who genuinely understands him and can help him take the reins or share the burden when it all gets a bit too much. someone who watches bad movies with him and laughs at the terrible jokes he makes. someone who is willing to help him forget the horrors of the world for five minutes, or be rational when he is emotional.

the moment he realizes he's in love with you is when he leaves the cinema. a (very disgusting) sequel to his favorite horror film series just came out, and you were the only person who agreed to watch it with him. as he excitedly searches the bottom of the popcorn bucket for some leftovers, he notices you looking at him. "what?" he mumbles, crunching on the popcorn.

you laugh lightly, reaching out to wipe his crumb-covered cheek. “yuji, your face is all dirty! wait, i’ll get a napkin.” that little contact of your palm with his cheek is── scorching. there is no other way to describe it. the sensation is so sudden that as you move away to grab a napkin, he lets the practically empty bucket fall to the floor.

there was so much tenderness in your stare, so much care and appreaciation. even if it wasn't your cup of tea, even if the movie would be a horrible set-up for a date, was this a date? even with all that, you— enjoyed it. enjoyed spending time with him, being with him, caring for him.

oh god. he is so in love.

୨୧ YUTA OKKOTSU — attracted to roughness and sincerity. fell first.

honestly, yuta's type can be a mean person. he wouldn't admit it, because he doesn't know how to say it without sounding almost like a masochist, but someone dragging him around by the collar while he smiles like an obedient dog is a pretty attractive prospect. he feels that he could cooperate very well with someone who is the very opposite of him ── as strange as it may seem. his type of person isn't really specific, he kind of just wants the basics: honesty, loyalty, affection. but if he could choose? someone more raw and honest, for sure. someone who would set the world on fire.

the moment he realized he was in love with you was in a strange and awkward situation. after an argument with one of his friends, you were just going to turn around and walk away at a steady pace. he doesn't like conflict, guys ── it's very stressful and makes yuta extremely anxious ── so his reaction is to just kind of stand there looking like an idiot. but you grab him by the arm and pull him away. “don't just stand there, yuta. let's go.”

“y—yes. of course.”

despite this, he knows you wouldn't be rude to him, or wouldn't be rude without a good reason. still, the almost angry tone in your voice and the authority you exude. even though he knew that in terms of power levels he would be stronger? totally attractive. he can see himself following you back and forth and a kind of dynamic that works like that. kinder and somewhat socially anxious boyfriend, and you, a scorching flame that consumes everything around you.

he kinda wants to be consumed, anyway.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. thank you for reading! <3ㅤㅤthis was not proofread.

[sprout-fics]

OMEGAVERSE 141 MY BELOVED OH GOD IM GONNA THINK ABT UR WRITING ALL DAY

I do love this idea, so glad everyone enjoys this too!

Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Four: The First Heat)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Heat cycles, Comfort, SoapGaz, Slowburn

Masterlist

Your heat hits hard

It's not as bad as the one that nearly killed you, but to say it's uncomfortable would be an understatement

You don't notice it at first. You feel off, sure, but everyone has off days. You assume you just ate something bad at breakfast, shrug, and try to move on

As the day progresses you begin to wonder if you're coming down with something. You're parched, too warm, a little shaky. You think maybe it's a cold, that you'll just sleep it off

It isn't until you run into Price later that day that you realize

The scent of an alpha that's scent marked you in the past to help keep other away wafts across your senses, and before you can blink-

It sends you to your knees

Price is alarmed, and reaches for you, before he realizes exactly what's mixed in with your scent. You see his pupils dilatate, see his throat bob as he swallows, but he manages to haul you upwards and slowly helps you to your room

You're sluggish and hazy eyed by the time you get there, leaning your weight onto him fully as your legs refuse to cooperate. You try to apologize, and Price reminds you there's no need, that you can't help it, that he'll make sure you're safely put away

Yet he merely dumps you in your room and extracts himself before he can have a change of heart, quickly texts the others to inform them of the situation

You barely make it into bed, exhausted, feverish, muscles and joints aching. It doesn't take long for you to pass out

When you wake up, it's dark outside, your room is dim, and you feel damp, gross with sweat. Yet there's a little message on your phone from Gaz, letting you know there's a care package for you right outside the door

You manage to crawl over, open the door just enough to slide the box in. Your back presses to the door as you sit on the floor, eyeing the contents

Snacks, water, hygiene items, a little soap bar where someone has taken a blade to redundantly carve the word 'soap' into it, and a black dark hoodie with a scent so heavy that when you hold it to your face you moan.

You notice neither alphas has come to offer their assistance, and for that you're both glad and a little lonely about. The thought is shaken away as you stumble towards the shower, clean off, slide the hoodie on, eat and hydrate, and collapse back into bed

Maybe it won't be a bad heat, you think

You wake up and your world is on fire

There's only hot air as you gasp awake, clawing at your blanket, drenched in sweat, sheets soaked. Your skin itches, and you pull off the hoodie just to get a cool reprieve, only to drag it back on when the ache between your thighs clenches painfully

It feels like you're drowning, like your veins are molten, like you can barely breathe

And between your legs is a searing, pulsing emptiness that makes you clench around nothing, has you buck and gasp and whine in search of reprieve. Yet there's nothing to help. Not even the touch of your scent marked pillow, not even the smell of Ghost's hoodie or water or food

You manage to fumble for your phone, reach and text one single line

"He lp"

It's the middle of the night, you think they aren't awake, and after a few minutes you decide to fix this yourself, pulling yourself from bed towards a cold shower

You don't get far, legs collapsing under you the moment you stand. It's so much, and try as you may you can't seem to drag yourself very far, crying out in frustration and resorting to hauling a blanket from bed to curl on the floor

It's how Soap finds you, curled up and writhing in pain. You see his face float into view, ashen with concern, and still dressed in his sleeping clothes. You take one inhale and whine, arch your neck submissively because he smells faintly like Ghost, like Alpha.

It doesn't take long for him to help you into the bathroom, stick you in the shower with all your clothes on, and turn on the coldest water you can manage

"Yer burning up, hen'." He mutters, eyes cloudy with worry, a hand placed to your forehead. "Need tae cool you down."

He vanishes for a moment, and you whine until he comes back with a clean set of clothes

"Can you get dressed by yourself?" He asks, and you consider, shake your head

Soap is nothing less than a gentleman despite the fact he's already seen you naked before, manages to fumble you dry and get you into fresh clothes before helping you back into your room

It's there that you find Gaz, in the midst of changing your sweat damp sheets, bleary eyed but offering you a smile

You're considerably more relaxed by the time the two sergeants have you fed and hydrated, finally curled up between the both of them on your cot

They're soaked in Price and Ghost's scents, and it's enough to make the need between your thighs relax just enough for you to go limp between them

Your head is cloudy with lust, with need, swimming with low pulsing desire at bodies pressing into you on either side smelling like alpha

It makes you hiccup, tears forming in your eyes at wanting, needing, hoping for them as your blood thrums too warm in your veins, and your voice chokes on their names as if somehow you can summon them the quell the ache

You know, in some distant, logical part of your brain, that Price and Ghost are being more than decent about this, that even if you asked in this state they'd refuse you until your mind is clear

It doesn't stop you from being a whiny, needy, horny mess between the two men that smell like them. Your hips jerk automatically, seeking friction, even as a hand kneads the small of your back to try and soothe you into keeping still. it has the entirely opposite effect, makes your fangs pop out and a low, heady moan tumble past your lips

It aches

Yet then a large, firm hand grasps onto your nape, and you suck in an unsteady breath as someone who smells like an alpha scruffs you, making you automatically go limp and still

"Good omega." Soap purrs in your ear, and you shudder, whine, but remain pliant in his grip, wet eyelashes fluttering as a heavy fog of sleep descends upon you once more, safe in the arms of the two men you trust the most to keep you like this

[slttygeto]

cw: none. just fluff.

hanma flinches away from any form of intimacy that isn’t sexual at first. when you lean in to kiss his cheek, when you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind—he just stands there frozen, unsure of what to do, how to proceed with such random display of affection.

he finally learns to appreciate it when he’s about to leave for a toman meeting, his tie is not cooperating neither are his shoes or his hair—he’s starting to get pissed.

“hey, you’re okay,” you say softly when you feel breathe in harshly, you can feel his heart beat speeding up against your fingers as you rub his chest soothingly. your fingers then tug at his tie and you start to do it for him—without him having to ask. and shuji just… stares.

you're used to his intense eyes, but you find yourself smiling when you find him staring at you. you don’t mind, continuing to fix his tie before dusting invisible dirt off of his shoulders. your hand reaches towards his hair and you run your fingers through the dual toned strands, fixing them to your liking. it was always so pretty, such a nice color.

“there you go, all done.” you say it almost in a kindergarten teacher’s voice, sounding very proud that hanma has to lean down to capture your lips in a swift kiss that has you smiling against his mouth.

he pulls away then kisses you again, and then again and again—

“o-okay,” you giggle and place your hands on his shoulders, feeling his lips trail towards your neck. “shuji, you have to leave!”

“I do?” he mumbles against your neck and you hold back a pleasured sigh, knowing that the sound could easily change him mind and have him cancel all of his plans for the rest of the day.

“mhm baby you do,” you reply, planting a kiss to his cheek. “now go, you look good.”

he feels lucky, undeserving of such affection and love from you. he wants to fight back and tell you to go find someone better than him, more emotionally stable—but when he sees you looking at him from the balcony, waving excitedly as he starts the car, his cold heart melts.

home is where you belong.

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.