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#thank you Pink for understanding the assignment
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P!NK - Never Gonna Not Dance Again (Official Video)
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yandere-daydreams · 8 days
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Title: Or Someone Finds The Lid.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).
Word Count: 8.0k.
Commissioned by the very lovely @elsecrytt.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Prolonged Captivity, Severe Infantilization, Forced Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Wildly Unhealthy Dynamics, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Geto Suguru has an Oral Fixation, Gojo Satou has a Mommy Kink, and Nonconsensual Drug Use. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
[Part One]
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“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
It had to be close to the hundredth time you’d in the past week, in the days since you woke up in a distressingly pastel bedroom, hostage to your two always worryingly possessive, but only recently deranged boyfriends. You knew, more concretely, that it was around the eleventh time you’d spouted that exact line today and the fourth time in the past hour, and as always, you were answered with a sympathetic glance, a patronizingly sweet smile. You could only be thankful it was coming from Satoru, this time. Suguru would’ve been much more condescending.
“Because we love you.” Another common sentiment, purred with just as much enthusiasm as it had been the first time you’d heard it, or the twelfth, or the forty-seventh. “And because you look good in pink.”
You sighed audibly, and Satoru pretended not to notice – only pulling you that much closer and resting his head on your shoulder. You were quickly learning that personal space, like many prior luxuries you hadn’t known to enjoy, was a right that Satoru and Suguru could revoke at will. Currently, your body was folded against Satoru’s – your back slotted against his chest and his legs spread on either side of you, the chain still attached to your ankle spread out over the mattress and the handheld console he was only partially focused on balanced on your lap. You tried to treasure the opportunity to stare mindlessly at a screen (a special privilege, considering your usual means of entertainment consisted of crayons, elementary-grade chapter books, and a plastic tea set), but for whatever reason, watching Satoru play Animal Crossing for three consecutive hours was just as under stimulating as it had been pre-kidnapping.
“That’s not a real answer.” You nudged your elbow into his chest, and when that didn’t work, pushed at his arm, just trying to get his attention. Yet another perk of your newly assigned position in this relationship – Satoru and Suguru had never made an exceptional effort to listen to you before, but now, you might as well have been speaking another language. “This is just—It’s just been so much, and it’s all so frustrating, and I don’t—”
And, just like that, you were tearing up – your vision going foggy as you struggled to hold back tears, to swallow down the whine building at the base of your throat. It was less that you’d been crying more easily and more than you were always on the verge of tears; your anger and frustration and confusion constantly at their peaks, just waiting for an excuse to spill over and leak out. Immediately, Satoru dropped his console, cooing softly as he scooped you up and turned you around. You moved to hide your face, but he was faster, more determined – his hands cupping your cheeks before you could swat him away. You weren’t crying yet, not really, but he took pains to hum and kiss away the few tears that escaped despite your best efforts. It was alarming, that crying was the only thing that consistently got them to hear you out. You tried not to think about the implications of that when paired with the pastel-pink aesthetic and the overall toddler-adjacent treatment.
“I’m really frustrated, ‘toru,” you repeated, melting into his hands. There was another coo, another peck to your forehead, before you went on. “I just— I need to know why you’re doing this. You can tell me that much, can’t you?”
“I’ve already told you, baby. It’s because we—” You cut in with a miserable, heart-breakingly pathetic sniffle, and Satoru pouted, shaking his head. Still, he broke quickly enough. “Look, you know that Suguru and I had it kinda rough before we met you, right? When we were growing up, I mean.”
Vaguely. You knew that Suguru’s parents died while he was in high school, that it’d been some kind of freak accident, but he didn’t like to talk about it. You’d met Satoru’s family once, but ‘met’ might’ve been the wrong word for it. Really, you’d sat in the antechamber of an estate the side of a small shopping mall for a little over an hour, answering questions asked by a woman who hadn’t introduced herself before being informed that, while you were not deemed a suitable partner for Satoru, you also weren’t dangerous enough to be worth the effort it would take to actively keep you away from him. Most of the time, you just tried to pretend that neither of your former partners, current captors had any immediate family.
Reluctantly, you nodded, and Satoru rewarded you with another kiss – this one to the corner of your jaw. “I know you probably don’t get it, but me and Suguru – we care about you, we care about you a lot. And the world’s a really, really dangerous place. If something happened to you out there…” He trailed off, laughing airily. An arm looped around your waist, pulling you into his lap, his chest. Instead of trying to resist, you curled against him, burying your face in his shirt as he rubbed slow, small circles into the small of your back. “You’re better off here. Getting to keep you all to ourselves is just a bonus.”
You wanted to scream, to bash your fists against his chest, to point out that they were the only people who’d ever isolated, assaulted, or kidnapped you, but he was doing what you asked him to, and the worst thing you could’ve done was give him a reason not to be as generous in the future. “…I don’t understand why you had to do—” You nodded towards your clothes – a set of bright pink cotton pajamas dotted with strawberries – then the rest of the room. “—this, though, if you’re trying to keep me safe. Couldn’t you have just… not?”
Another laugh, this one more sincere. “That part’s just for us.” This time, when he squeezed you against his chest, he didn’t let go until you were squirming against him, struggling to breathe. “Suguru does tend to let the roleplay get a little out-of-hand, but it really does help. There’s just something about seeing you all sweet n’ dressed up, surrounded by cute, soft things...” He trailed off with an airy laugh. “Makes me feel… secure, y’know? Like we’re keeping you safe.”
Something thick and jagged caught in your throat. “…this was Suguru’s idea?”
If he heard you, then that was a question he wasn’t interested in answering. “I meant the other part, too.” And then, with a slightly longer, more lingering kiss to the apex of your throat. “You look really good in pink.”
You felt it a second later – a familiar shape pressing into your ass, already worryingly stiff. You pulled away from him, your disgust too reflexive to hide. “…it gets you hard to see adult women dressed like first-graders?”
“No, princess.” A pause, a sudden nip to the side of your neck. “It gets me hard when you dress like a first-grader.”
Thankfully, before you had time to start to unpack that, you heard the bedroom door open and glanced over your shoulder to find Suguru leaning against the frame. Concern was written clearly across his expression, but it dulled to affectionate exasperation when he saw Satoru wiping away your non-existent tears. “I thought I heard a struggle,” he explained, unprompted. You hadn’t put up much of a physical fight yet, but they were both clearly concerned you would – the literal chain around your ankle was evidence enough of that. “Is it time for the little princess to take her medicine?”
You seized up at the mention of your ‘medicine’ – sedatives administered in the form of tiny, heart-shaped pills that left you exhausted and disoriented for hours at a time, if they didn’t knock you out entirely. It was what they’d used the night they’d taken you, and Suguru seemed to like to pull them out whenever you cried, or screamed, or did anything they should’ve known to expect from an acclimating victim.
To his credit, Satoru didn’t jump at the opportunity to drug you into oblivion. Not this time, at least. “She got a little overwhelmed. I took care of it.”  You slumped against him, letting yourself relax. That was your mistake, really. Maybe you should’ve had more realistic expectations, too. “But,” he went on, pushing another, sloppier kiss into your neck. “She’s still pretty fragile. A few hours off probably wouldn’t hurt.”
It was awful – how easily they could talk about you like some distant, abstract subject, how quickly they seemed to forget you were capable of listening when not addressed directly. With a smile, Suguru moved forward, resting one knee on the edge of your mattress while Satoru held you in place – keeping you from scrambling back as far as your chain would allow. You tried to grit your teeth, to keep your mouth shut, but Suguru only clicked his tongue, cupping your face with one hand while pressing something small and chalky against your pursed lips with the other. “Darling,” he drawled, infusing as much syrupy condescension into the pet name as was humanly possible. “You remember what happens to bad girls who don’t do what they’re told, don’t you?”
Instantly, your heart dropped. You remembered.
Driving your nails into your palms, you unlocked your jaw and hesitantly opened your mouth. Suguru barely waited for your lips to part before shoving the pill past your teeth and down your throat, keeping two lingers lodged in your airway even as you sputtered and gagged around him. It was less that you swallowed his pill and more that you would’ve had to choke down anything he all-but force-fed you, but whatever you called it, Suguru was satisfied – drawing back with a pleased hum only to tap his saliva-coated fingers against Satoru’s lips, instead. You shut your eyes, but it wasn’t enough.
The last thing you heard were the wet, stomach-turning noises of Satoru’s affection before everything went fuzzy.
~
You only really acted out once – about three weeks in, when the initial adrenaline was starting to fade and the slow, vicious dread of prolonged captivity had just begun to set in. You weren’t allowed to leave your windowless, ambiently lit bedroom, and by end of the first week, time had turned into something viscous and unforgiving, the endless hours only broken up by visits from Satoru and Suguru. It was hard not to be constantly on edge – unsure if you’d been alone for hours and minutes, simultaneously dying to see them again and hoping you never would. It was hard to tell what they were thinking, when you were so caught in in your own spiraling thoughts to try and guess at theirs.
Speaking of – their dynamic had become a little clearer, even if how things had spiraled out of control so quickly was still lost on you. You and Satoru had always been the dominant personalities in your relationship, with Suguru as the calming presence that leveled the two of you out, setting arguments and keeping you from tearing out each other’s throats. Now, though, the roles were reversed. Satoru was happy enough to spend most of his time treating you like an oversized, particularly uncooperative stuffed animal; something to cuddle and coo over, but not necessarily train or expect to reciprocate. Suguru, though…
Suguru had expectations.
“I need you to hold still, love.”
Suguru’s fingers brushed over your spine as he fiddled with the complex array of buttons lining the back of tonight’s nightgown. You’d seen your closest, knew they must’ve spent a small fortune on dresses and shoes and accessories, but Suguru still seemed to prefer you in sheer, cotton nightgowns and lacey lingerie and humiliatingly childish loungewear – nothing you would’ve been able to wear outside of home, even if you’d put it on willingly. It was a blessing that Suguru and Satoru were as busy as they were – Satoru with his classes and Suguru with his religious group. Most of the time, you’d find Suguru’s chosen outfit on the foot of your bed and be trusted to dress yourself. Most of the time.
Just not tonight.
“Someone’s a little antsy.” It was Satoru, this time, as unhelpful as ever. He was sprawled across your bed, toying idly with your chain while you sat in front of a vanity on the other side of the room, deliberately avoiding your reflection in the tri-fold mirror. “You should’ve let me play with her in the tub. Then, she wouldn’t have the energy to squirm.”
You felt your face burn. As if being forced to drink out of sippy cups and color with crayons wasn’t enough, bathtime was quickly becoming one of your most unbearable daily trails. Suguru always made sure things stayed above-board, but having to watch Satoru fuck his own fist while Suguru lovingly dictated where, when, and how roughly to clean yourself wasn’t much better than the alternative.
“Absolutely not. You’re too rough, and the last thing we want is for our princess to get bruised because you can’t wait another half an hour.” Fenagling the last button into place, Suguru straightened his back, sighing contentedly. “Can you turn around for me?”
Biting down on the side of your tongue, you shifted on the velvet-cushioned stool, your back pressing into the edge of the vanity’s counter as you faced Suguru. You’d made a point of not looking at yourself, but you could imagine what he saw – a thin nightgown clinging to your damp skin, your posture shrunken and your eyes downcast, every part of you made to seem small and helpless. If the feeling of his gaze burning into you wasn’t telling enough, the overwhelming delight audible in his voice would’ve given him away in a heartbeat. “Satoru, you have your phone, right? I want a picture. And—oh.” Your eyes darted in his direction just in time to see him pull a stuffed animal from one of the larger stacks; a large, white rabbit teddy, its button eyes an overly familiar shade of blue. He held it by its ears as he handed it to you. “Hold onto this for a second, love.”
You felt something tighten in your chest. You were in a bad position. You were in a bad place. You needed to be careful, and yet, when you finally managed to say something, you could only seem to spit out the one thing you knew he wouldn’t want to hear. “I… I really don’t want to take a picture right now, if that’s alright.”
To his credit, Suguru’s didn’t falter, his grin only wavering slightly. “Love,” He paused, sighed. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to.”
“I know, but—” Your breath hitched in your throat. Really, it was a miracle you weren’t already crying. “Please, Suguru. Not right now.”
His expression darkened, and yet, the gentle sigh that slipped past his lips was nothing short of tender. Still holding the rabbit, he reached out – catching the lace of your nightgown’s collar with two fingers. For a second, he just played with the delicate fabric, careful not to damage it.
Then, before you could think to react, his fist was around your neck and you were being slammed into the vanity.
There was enough force behind the collision to splinter the wood upon impact, to knock the air out of your lungs and seed an awful knot of blinding pain in the back of your head. You gasped, but it was too late – his fist tightened around your throat and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move save what it took for your hands to find his and dig your nails into his wrist, his forearm, his knuckles, whatever you could reach. You never would’ve been able to pry him off, but you didn’t need to. He released you as abruptly as he’d lunged, and without his support, your body dropped off of the vanity’s now-dented desk and onto the carpeted floor, your dress falling into a limp heap around you. You were too shocked to cry, to sob, to scream. Suguru and Satoru had kidnapped you, dehumanized you, isolated you, but neither of them had ever hurt you. They’d never—
Except, that wasn’t true, was it? They had hurt you. The first thing Suguru ever didwas hurt you, bending you over his knee the second you disobeyed him, and Satoru helped.
For your own sake, you decided to consider this an escalation, a new development. Something neither of them would’ve been capable of, back when you still considered them your Suguru and your Satoru.
 You also decided, still for your own sake, that you couldn’t afford to think about this any longer. Suguru was already moving on, lowering himself to your height, pouting as he raked his fingers through your now-disheveled hair and evaluated your newly wrinkled dress. “I’m sorry, princess. I must’ve lost my temper. I know you must be upset – having your pretty outfit ruined and all.”
He waited a beat, then asked, “Don’t you have something to say to me?”
If you hadn’t been so scared, you might’ve slapped him. Instead, you just bit down on your bottom lip and mumbled an unsure “I… I’m sorry?”
“For what, exactly?”
“For—For talking back, and making you angry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know, love, I know. You would never mean to do anything like that.” He was still holding onto that fucking rabbit. You felt its velvet-soft material brush against your leg as he placed it, almost carefully, on the floor next to you. “I’ll tell you what – there don’t have to be any pictures. Why don’t you take your medicine, and we can allgo to bed?”
“No!” It was a purely automatic response, as reflexive as lashing out and latching onto his arm. When you realized what you were doing, you pulled away with a jolt, forcing your hands back into your lap and staring wide-eyed at the floor. “I mean, I’m sorry, I just—” You swallowed harshly. “Isn’t there… uh, another option? Please?”
Suguru opened his mouth, but Satoru cut in before he had the chance to answer. “Think it’s time to break out her pacifier, Suguru?”
You perked up. No part of you wanted to suck on a piece of plastic for the entertainment of your captors, sure, but it was better than the alternative. Fuck, you were having trouble of thinking of something that wasn’t.
Suguru seemed to like the idea, too. He shot Satoru an appreciative smile before pushing himself to his feet, before turning his attention back to you, eagerly waiting for your next bout of psychological torture.
It was only when he reached for the waistband of his sweatpants that you realized your mistake.
You might’ve protested – or, whined, at least – but the back of your skull still ached, and you could still see Satoru smirking in your peripheral, and he was already forcing his boxers below his hips, already curling a hand around the shaft of his cock. Disgustingly, terrifyingly, he was half-hard; his bloated tip flushed a darker shade of red, beads of arousal leaking from his blunt head and dripping down his shaft. Your thoughts seemed to waver, then fry, then blot out altogether – like a video game glitching in the middle of a cut scene. Maybe you should’ve just sat still for the fucking picture after all.
“The poor thing looks so startled,” Suguru cooed, glancing to Satoru. “Why don’t you lend her a hand?”
You were vaguely aware of Satoru moving, shifting, pushing himself off of your bed and crouching behind you. His thumb pushed past your lips and hooked your lower jaw easing your mouth open with as little grace as you had remaining dignity. You tried to bite down, obviously, but Suguru took hold of your hair and pulled – the sharp spike of pain immediately dispelling any thoughts of disobedience. “He’s helping you,” Suguru chimed, his voice taking on a cloying overtone. “You’ll have to thank him properly later on. When your mouth isn’t full, I mean.”
It wasn’t, but that changed quickly. Suguru was kind enough (or cruel enough) to move slowly, easing the head of his cock past your lips first, letting it sit on your tongue as you fought not to cringe against the bitter, musky taste. Satoru pulled his hand away as Suguru eased another inch into your mouth, then another, then another – letting out a rough groan as his tip hit the back of your throat with more than half of his shaft to spare. You fought the urge to gag, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You’d given him head before, but it’d always been on your own terms, with Satoru waiting on the sidelines to bail you out if you ever got tired of choking on your boyfriend’s stupidly big dick. Now, though, Satoru didn’t seem to want to do anything but breathe down your neck, and you doubted your consent was a factor either of them would stop to genuinely consider.
Ultimately, your enthusiastic cooperation proved unnecessary. Suguru kept his fingers tangled in your hair, his blunt nails biting into your scalp as he manually bobbed your head – slowly, at first, then faster, with enough force to leave your jaw sore after less than a minute of being split around his shaft. Saliva and pre-cum drooled from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chest and onto your nightgown, but if Suguru cared, the feeling of your throat convulsing around him was enough to warrant a momentary lapse in decency. “T-that’s it,” he muttered, mostly under his breath. “Good, good girl. See what happens when you’re well-behaved?”
You felt Satoru shift behind you, his hands skirting over your back as he skillfully undid the buttons Suguru had spent so much time fussing over. A pair of large, velvet-soft hands grazed over your waist, then your sides, before reaching your chest and cupping your tits – kneading the soft tissue like a pair twin stress balls fitted perfectly to his palms. “She looks better already,” Satoru laughed, thumbs swiping over your nipples. “You’re gonna thank mommy for being so nice with you, right?”
Suguru snorted. “I’m mommy?”
“Mhm. ‘cause you’re so pretty and you take such good care of our little princess.” He nudged you, propping his chin on your shoulder. “Go on, baby. Tell mommy how much you love him.”
You choked something out – more of a desperate whine than anything coherent – and Suguru threw his head back, cursing silently as his pace turned from sloppy to erratic. His cock battered into your throat with every thrust, your air supply constantly somewhere between minimal and nonexistent. It was only as the outskirts of your vision started to fade that Suguru hissed, gritting his teeth as he dragged your head into his hips, your nose pressing into his pubic bone and his cock so far down your throat, you could practically feel him in your lungs. A sudden twitch, a groaned exhale was all the warning you received before you felt something hot and thick fill your throat, your mouth, your diaphragm. He held you there for a moment, then another – savoring the sound of your fractured whimpering all-but drowned by his cum – before letting you go, watching through half-lidded eyes as you collapsed into Satoru’s waiting arms.
You lurched forward, moving to spit, to get him out of you, but Satoru’s hand was already covering your mouth – determined to keep Suguru’s taste on your tongue for that much longer. At the same time, you felt something small and soft being dropped onto your thighs, heard the shutter of a camera above you. Rather than trying to look at Suguru, you let your gaze fall to your lap.
Or, rather, the perfectly white, perfectly posed rabbit now resting peacefully on top of it.
~
It was two months before the chain came off – meaning, before Suguru and Satoru were happy enough with either your behavior or their security to let you roam freely (with heavy supervision, of course). It went without saying that you were ecstatic. You could barely sit still while Satoru undid the shackle, barely listen while Suguru told you their plans for the night – dinner and a movie marathon, not totally dissimilar to something you might’ve suggested when you still had the authority to be making suggestions. It didn’t matter. You were just happy to be doing anything, especially if it meant you got to leave that godawful room.
You only realized that you’d still been picturing your old apartment when you stepped out of the bedroom an abruptly realized you weren’t in an apartment at all, but a house – two stories with every window looking out onto a fence so tall, you would’ve had to be on the roof to see over it. It was decorated sparely, with what few shelves there were littered sporadically with Satoru’s gundams or parts of Suguru’s ongoing trinket collection, but minimalism was an appreciated change compared to the ongoing sensory nightmare that was your bedroom. You gawked at every empty surface, every plain white wall as Suguru herded you to the kitchen, where Satoru was busy plating what looked like udon. The seating arrangement was strange – there were only two chairs at the dining room table, but you were too caught up in your own euphoria to care. You grabbed a bowl and a pair of chopsticks, fell into a seat, and—
“Sweetheart,” Suguru started, his voice somewhat strained. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Uh,” You glanced at your bowl, abruptly confused. “Eating? I think?”
“Almost, but not quite. I guess I can’t blame you for not knowing.” He rounded the table, coming to stand at your side. You tried to get up, but it only took a hand on your shoulder to stop you. “Even something as simple as using utensils can be dangerous for little ones like you. Me and Satoru will be feeding you by hand, from now on.”
It was strange, really – how many little deaths you could die before going numb to it. It was terrible, how many times you could hear one of the two men you loved most in the world say you were more incapable than a literal child before it all just turned to static.
You wondered, distantly, if Suguru was offended that you didn’t engage with this part of him more willingly. It was clearly sincere, if fucked-up, and if he’d ever bothered to ask, you probably would’ve agreed to try it – not that you would’ve had much of a choice, in the later stages of your relationship. It was different for Satoru – as long as you were trapped and at his mercy, he’d be happy. Suguru wanted something… different, more complex. Suguru wanted reliance.
Suguru wanted to break you down.
“If you say so.” You heard your voice, felt your mouth moving, but you weren’t talking. “Can I… um, would it be alright if I asked for something, first?”
Suguru’s satisfaction was almost palpable. “Of course. Anything for you.”
“I think I’d like to take my medicine, now.”
Suguru answered quickly, but not quickly enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Satoru reach for the cabinet above the stove before thinking better of it and glancing over his shoulder, as if to make sure you hadn’t seen. It took everything you had not to react as Suguru responded.
“Of course,” he said with an airy laugh, nearly purring. “Not right now, though – we’ll wait until it’s closer to your bedtime. Try to focus on dinner.”
You only nodded eagerly, smiling sincerely for the first time in weeks.
~
It took two weeks for you to get your hands on their pills (you stole two, just in case), and three more to convince Satoru that a field trip – his description, not yours – wouldn’t be that big of a deal, not if you kept it short, not if Suguru didn’t find out. He’d always been ecstatic when you visited him at his university (a historic private school, so unlike the local community college you’d gone to, the one you missed with all your heart), and besides, what was worst that could happen? He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight, and the students were still on winter break. You could even wear your old clothes, just to make sure you didn’t attract attention. It’d just be the two of you, all alone in his office, with hours and hours and hours to kill. Really, how could it possibly go wrong?
You waited until you reached his office to slip both stolen pills into his coffee. He’d barely gotten his belt off before the effects kicked-in, but still, you waited until he’d been reduced to a drooling, half-conscious shell of himself before making your escape.
You’d been right – his campus really was deserted. You hurried past dark lecture halls and empty offices as you rushed in a direction you hoped would lead to an exit, glanced out of windows that looked onto lifeless courtyards as you thought about what to do next. The police weren’t an option. They hadn’t hurt you, not in any way you’d be able to prove, and even if you had the evidence, Satoru was rich, and to the law, there was no greater proof of innocence. You tried to think of phone numbers, of addresses, but you hadn’t had many friends before meeting Satoru and Suguru, and they’d made sure to whittle that unimpressive number down to zero over the course of your relationship. You cursed under your breath, even though there was no one around to hear you. You should’ve taken Satoru’s wallet after he passed out. You wouldn’t have been able to use to his cards, but it would’ve been nice to—
You rounded the next corner, then froze.
At the end of the hall, like an omen of death granted human form, stood Suguru.
You took a faltering step backward before breaking into a full, heart-pounding sprint. Suguru wasn’t close, but he was close enough. He let you get all of three steps away before fist curled around the back of your shirt, his muscular arm wrapping around your midriff, trapping you with as much effort as it might’ve taken to lift a kitten by its scruff. Still, you thrashed, struggled, fought – throwing your elbow into his stomach and kicking at his legs as he lifted you off the ground entirely, pinning your body against his chest. He wasn’t supposed to be here. You were told he’d be at his shrine today, all day, with a thousand little things to do that’d keep him distracted until you got away. This wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to be—
“Calm down,” he muttered, his voice distant, cold. “You’ll only make this worse for yourself.”
Immediately, you went still. It was a vague threat, but it was a threat, and Suguru had never threatened you before.
Or, you didn’t think he had, at least. It was getting so hard to tell, after everything they’d done to you.
He didn’t sigh, or shake his head, or speak again. He only lowered you back to the ground and, after taking your hand in his, led you back down the vacant halls, past the abandoned classrooms, and to the door of Satoru’s office. He paused outside of it, his dark eyes falling to you in a way you could only describe as void-like. You had to wonder why you every thought you knew him.
“You were trying to…?”
He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. Reluctantly, you nodded, and Suguru turned away from you, shouldering open the office door.
Satoru was on his feet, but only barely. He was supporting himself on the corner of his desk, his pale face flushed red and his clothes noticeably disheveled. At some point, he’d lost his sunglasses, and you watched his sky-blue eyes go wide as Suguru crossed the threshold with you following shortly after. “Suguru, princess.” His voice was weak, breathy. You could only imagine how you’d sounded strung out on their sedatives. “How far did she get? She caught me off-guard, but—”
Suguru let go of your hand and closed the distance between him and Satoru. You heard the sharp crack before you could process what he was doing – saw Suguru raise his hand and Satoru’s head snap to the side without ever linking either action with the other. Even Satoru, always so resilient, took a moment to recover, his expression going blank as Suguru spoke, unphased. “If you ever leave me, I’ll break your legs so badly, you’ll never be able to walk again.” You didn’t have to wonder if he meant it. It didn’t matter if he meant it. The words alone left shaking too violently to move, let alone run. “And if you do anything to help her, I’ll gut you alive.”
Your eyes darted to Satoru, to his visibly swollen cheek. Somehow, he seemed even more flushed than he had seconds before, his eyes half-lidded and his lips slightly parted. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought he looked—
Oh, god.
You should’ve gotten away when you had the chance.
Of course, things only got worse when he opened his mouth. “Yes, mommy.”
“Get on the couch and lay down. It’s not like you’re good for anything else, right now.”
“I will, mommy.”
He obeyed mechanically, collapsing onto the well-worn sofa that sat against the far wall. You’d always thought it was too big, too bulky, especially in such a confined state. When you asked Satoru why he bothered to keep it, he’d just laughed and claimed he liked to keep his guests comfortable.
You doubted you counted as a guest. Then again, you doubted you were going to be very comfortable, either.
Suguru glanced over his shoulder, his lifeless stare boring into you. “Straddle his waist and help him undress. You did this, so you’ll be taking responsibility.”
Fear was a surprisingly strong motivation. You were scrambling onto the sofa before you had a chance to think, planting a knee on either side of Satoru’s hips as you fumbled clumsily with his shirt. For his part, Satoru was either incapable of or unwilling to help you – a distant, careless smile soon painting itself across his lips as he watched you struggle. When he did move, it was only to bring a hand to the back of your neck and drag you downward, his mouth crashing into yours. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy attempt to choke you to death with his tongue, but Satoru still groaned as you separated, his face immediately finding the crook of your neck. “So glad Suguru got you back,” he slurred, nuzzling into you. “He’s so hot when he gets all jealous like that.”
You were only half-listening to him, already distracted. Suguru had moved, too – kneeling behind you, his hands finding your hips and dragging them into the air. Your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties to the side, and just as abruptly, three of Suguru’s broad fingers were pushed into your cunt. You whimpered at the sudden, borderline painful intrusion, but Suguru only scoffed. “Be grateful you’re getting this much prep. It’s already more than you deserve.”
That didn’t do anything to stop the pain, though. Suguru was merciless – sheathing his digits to the knuckle, spreading his fingers apart, making it clear that he wasn’t doing this for your pleasure, even if he didn’t seem to be getting much out of it, either. You tried to shut your eyes, to grit your teeth and bare it, but any attempts to ignore reality were swiftly cut short by the feeling of his unoccupied hand coming down on your ass with enough force to bruise. “Did I say could stop?”
He hadn’t, but Satoru was making things difficult – keeping you slotted against him as closely as you could. As Suguru’s fingers fucked into you, you managed to get an arm between your body and his, for the waistband of his jeans down just far enough to earn a satisfied grunt from Suguru. Strangely, the worst part wasn’t the strain in your cunt, or the heat of Satoru’s cock pressing into your stomach, but the feeling of Satoru’s wide, toothy grin pressing into the side of your neck – tangible proof of his euphoria. It was awful – just how clearly he was enjoying this. At least Suguru had the decency to go blank.
It was too much too suddenly with too little build up, but Suguru knew your body and, more damningly, your body knew him. Barely a minute had passed before you felt arousal stain the inside of your thighs, before the sound of his digits plunging into you took on a distinctive wet quality. You let your head lull into Satoru’s chest and dig your teeth into your tongue, willing away any embarrassing noises that would’ve added to your ongoing degradation, but if Suguru cared, you couldn’t tell. He soldiered on with that brutal, unyielding pace, ignoring your clit entirely in favor of beating his frustration directly into your pussy. Really, it was a miracle you felt anything at all. Well, anything beyond pain, anyway.
It was only when you tensed against Satoru, when you finally let a single, fractured moan slip past your haphazardly sealed lips, that Suguru abruptly stopped; pulling out of you before you could fully process what was happening. You glanced over your shoulder, misplaced disappointment softening the harsher edges of your fear, but Satoru was quick to catch your chin – redirecting your attention back to him. “Where do you think you’re going, princess?” he asked, rocking his hips into yours. “You’ve gotta stay on my good side too, remembered?”
As if you could forget.
Behind you, Suguru glowered. “I’ll deal with you when we get home.” To Satoru, and then, to you, “Do it. Make sure he doesn’t cum.”
Your instructions were clear, albeit unappreciated. Satoru let you straighten your back, his hands kneading at your thighs as you picked yourself up and, as mindlessly as you could, aligned the head of his cock with your entrance. You wanted to move slowly, to give your abused cunt time to adjust, but Suguru proved uncharacteristically impatient; taking you by the shoulders and spearing you on Satoru’s cock before you could so much as consider protesting. You went stiff, your brain too busy trying to make sense of your sudden fullness to order your body to move, but Satoru didn’t seem to mind – only tightening his vice-like hold and bucking into you from below, his cock battering into the deepest, most vulnerable part of you without the slightest trace of concern.
You were too startled to make noise, but Satoru had always been so much louder than you, so much more eager to pour out his every little thought. “She’s so fucking tight,” he breathed, grinding into you. “Been ages since I had her on top of me, too. Almost forgot how—” A slight gasp, a pitchy whine, “Almost forgot how pretty she could get, sitting on her daddy’s lap.”
Your sight blurred, and a few seconds later, you realized you were crying. Suguru didn’t respond, but you heard fabric shifting, felt one of his hands disappear for a moment before returning, now on the center of your back. With more force than he really had to use, he shoved you back down, pressing you flat against Satoru as he maneuvered himself behind you. Space was limited, availability even more so, but still, it wasn’t until you felt the head of his cock press against your stuffed slit that you realized what he was doing.
“N—no,” It was almost impressive, just how quickly you abandoned what was left of your pride. You tried to pick yourself back up, but Satoru was a snare – an arm looking around your waist while the other found your hip, holding you still for Suguru. “Please, you can’t, it’s not—It won’t fit, and—”
And, just like that, Suguru was pushing into you, bottoming out in a single thrust. As his hips pressed into your ass and he let out a quiet, almost inaudible groan, you could only wonder if either of them had ever really loved you.
There was a lapse – more for their sakes than yours – before Satoru started moving, already acclimated. “Such a good girl,” he drawled, grinding into you, seemingly unhappy unless he and Suguru were both fully planted inside of you. “See? It’s not that bad, right? I knew you’d be able to handle it.”
But you couldn’t. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably, hitched sobbed and agonized moans trickling past your lips every time either of them moved. Suguru sucked in a shuddering breath, then planted a hand on the small of your back, thrusting into you sharp and deep – his movements a stark contrast to Satoru’s. The stretch along was unbearable. Even on your best days, you’d struggle to take either of them to the hilt. Taking both seemed fantastical, implausible, fatal. It was genuinely surprising that you weren’t already dead.
It was doubly as surprising, then, that it felt so good.
 Most of it had to be your own fried nerves trying to make the best of it, to get you through this as quickly and as painlessly as was possible. You weren’t in control of anything; not your hands as they clawed blindly at Satoru’s chest, not your hips as you bucked pitifully into Suguru, and certainly not your cunt as it clenched even tighter around the cocks splitting it open. Satoru let out an airy laugh, two fingers dropping to your neglected clit. “It’s okay, baby, you deserve to feel good too,” he gushed, pushing lazy circles into the small bundle of nerves, drawing out yet another miserable sob. “Told you she’d like it.”
“She’s not supposed to,” Suguru grunted, digging his nails into your waist. Still, that didn’t stop him from burying himself inside of you, his cock twitching against the walls of your cunt. You couldn’t be sure what it was – the fullness, maybe, or the overstimulation, or your own desperation to just get this over with – but your vision burnt white, your body convulsing against Satoru’s as you came undone around them. Satoru followed shortly after, digging his teeth into the curve of your neck as he pumped something searing and vileinto you. Suguru let out a rough, throaty growl – throwing his head forward and hilting himself entirely inside of you. You shook your head, pleading silently, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to notice, and even if he had, you doubted it would’ve been enough to stop him from cumming inside of you, from ensuring that no part of you was left uncorrupted.
There was a short period of numb, thoughtless stillness – filled only by Suguru’s panting, Satoru’s mindless cooing, and the absence of your voice. Suguru shifted, and for a second, you panicked, convincing yourself that there was more, that he wasn’t done – but he only pulled out of you, fixing his clothes with his eyes focused pointedly on the point where your cunt was still stretched around Satoru’s cock, where it leaked and drooled onto Satoru’s lap. You weren’t so resilient, letting your eyes fall shut and slumping against Satoru.
For the very first time, as you lost consciousness, you felt the smallest, tiniest, most microscopic spec of relief that, at the very least, you wouldn’t be responsible for cleaning yourself up.
~
“Stay in the car. I’ll call when it’s time for you to bring her in.”
The ride had been near-silent, only occasionally interrupted by an odd comment from Satoru or a hissed warning from Suguru. Suguru drove while Satoru held onto you in the back seat, keeping you gathered in his arms, his jacket draped loosely over your shoulders. Satoru only nodded as Suguru let himself out, making no move to follow. Whatever this was, they must’ve already talked about it while you were blacked out.
You waited until Suguru had disappeared into the house before speaking, your voice hoarse and unsteady. “He hit you.”
“Mhm. You did a number on my chest, too.”
“But—” You cut yourself off and started over. “He hit you.”
He flashed you a smile, as careless as it was dismissive. “What do you want me to say, baby?”
“That this insane. That he’s insane.” You crossed your arms over your chest, curling into yourself. “You can leave, Satoru – we can leave together. All we’d have to do is—” The air hitched in your throat, but you managed to snarl something out. “—fucking go.”
“And why would we want to do that, exactly?”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
Satoru laughed, the sound breathy and light. “Because,” he said, nuzzling into your hair, “Suguru loves me. He loves us. You should know that – after today, especially.”
You opened your mouth, but shut it just as quickly.
This time, you had a feeling that he’d given you the only answer he was going to.
The next few minutes passed slowly. Satoru kept himself occupied, pushing slow, lingering kisses into your cheek and neck, while you stared mindlessly out of the window, trying to savor the last minutes of sunlight that you’d have for a long, long time. Eventually, Satoru’s phone buzzed. He didn’t even bother to check it before gathering you up in his arms and carrying you inside. You expected him to take you back to your bedroom, with its stuffed-animal lined shelves and bright pink walls and polished silver chain, but instead, he turned down a hallway you’d never seen before, into a bedroom that was distinctly not yours. Suguru was waiting for him, standing in the doorway to a dark closet. The edges of his lips quirked upward when he saw you. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was the closest thing you’d gotten to one from him all day.
Satoru placed you next to him, and your attention turned back to the closet. Any clothes or shoes had been cleared out to make room for a single, silver dog crate, nearly big enough to stretch from one wall to the other. The bottom was padded with a light pink blanket that you recognized from your bed, and a white rabbit plush had been left in the far right corner. A deadbolt hung, undone, from the open kennel door.
You might’ve broken down entirely, if you hadn’t been so devastated.
Suguru’s voice was deafening and serene, as beautifully composed as it was unspeakably terrible. “Get in, love.”
“I’m not—”
“You should probably listen to him,” Satoru cut in, placing a hand on your shoulder. “This is just about the nicest thing he suggested.”
You swallowed, your heart failing to beat. Out of some ancient, primal, preservatory instinct, your body moved towards the crate, falling to its knees and bowing its head to fit inside. The kennel was big for a dog, not for a person. You had just enough room to huddle against the farthest wall as Suguru slid the door into place, the deadbolt locking with a sadistic click.
“It really is a shame,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I was hoping you could be our darling princess for a little longer, but I’m sure you’ll make a much better bitch.”
Satoru helped him back to his feet, and together, they retreated back to the closet door, Satoru casting one more lovesick smile over his shoulder as he shut the door behind them, leaving you in total, endless, solitary darkness.
Your wretched sobs echoed off the barren walls as you finally started to cry.
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glitterycvm · 4 months
Text
"I'D UNDERSTAND "
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[•~college!au, aged!up kirshima x reader~•]fluff/slight angst/smut
[•~synopsis: you find out your boyfriend was just using you, don't worry ejiro will help you forget all about that~•]
[•~a/n: inspired by a situation my friend was js in, send requests!!~•]
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you couldn't believe it. after all that time? all those memories you two had together. it was all for nothing.
you and your (ex) boyfriend had been dating for a couple weeks. even though it was merely a couple weeks, you were convinced that he was the love of your life. you knew that he was the one. or at least you thought so-
gradually things got distant, he stopped making an effort overall, while you put in everything you had. you were confused and frustrated. you didn't do anything to him? so what was going on?...
then earlier this afternoon, you were catching up on some nearly-late homework assignments. as you scribbled your way through some equations a light buzz vibrated against your thigh.
curiously, you took out your phone and glanced over at the notification. you had got a message from your boyfriend.
you open his chats eagerly, for once he started a conversation with you. but your moment of glee soon came to an abrupt end as you read the first couple words.
"y/n. we need to break up"
you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. your stomach dropped making the guilty and panicky feeling overtake your senses even more.
you continue reading the paragraph, each word making that sick feeling grow in you. you couldn't believe that this was happening. it had to be a nightmare.
"tbh i was desperate for a prom date cs all my friends going had one and i didn't wanna be left out and at that point they were making fun of me so yea i shoulda js told the truth from the start instead of lying"
emotions flooded your mind. betrayal. disappointment. anger. were just to name a few. you were at a loss for words. you thought he actually loved you. he treated you better than any other guy you were previously with. and you get played?
you drop your phone, tears flooding your eyes as you fall onto your bed, head buried in the pillow below you. the only thing you felt like doing now was to cry your eyes out dry. sob until you got better if that was possible anymore. you felt stupid.
teardrops dampened the pillowcase below you face as you say there in sorrow. but your moment of mourning was soon interrupted by a series of knocks. a familiar voice following.
"y/n? you left your textbooks in the library-"
you quickly fix yourself up, taking in a couple deep breaths and wiping the tears off your cheeks. you swiftly get up from your bed, praying that the faint pink tint plastered all over your face wasn't too obvious.
your hand curls over the doorknob and you open the door slowly. being greeted with a familiar red haired boy. eijiro kirishima, your best friend. one of his arms holding up a stack of books, while the other was shoved in his jacket pocket.
"h-hey eijiro... thanks for bringing me these" you whispered, hiding your shaky rattled voice. eijiro looked down at you with a small frown. "you okay, y/n?" he asks, handing you the books, worry and concern evident in his tone.
those three words were all it took to make you crack. you erupted back into that familiar sorrow, eyes overfilling with water.
you then feel strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a warm and comforting embrace. without any thought you cry into his chest, a spot in his hoodie getting soaked.
a hand strokes your back softly as his soothing voice whispers in your ear "let it out, it's all gonna be okay y/n, I promise..." you hug him back even tighter, too lost in your emotions.
a couple moments pass before eijiro pulls away for a quick moment, arms still wrapped around you.
"you wanna tell me what's wrong?..."
you explain to kirishima everything that had just happened. he knew about this boyfriend you had and wasn't too trusting of him to begin with. he has a gut feeling something was off but he didn't want to burst your bubble so he kept quiet.
at least that's what he told himself. in actuality he couldn't tell if he was just jealous of him or if he actually had a guy feeling. something eijiro had never told you was that he had the biggest crush on you ever since you two had met. and every time you mentioned or introduced him to a new guy the only thing he could think of was how much better he was.
this moment was no different either. you told him in the past about how your boyfriend was treating you. from all the dry and lackluster conversations to the lack of attention. he heard it all. and he tried his best to comfort you, to try to look out for the both of you. when in reality he wanted you all for himself. he wanted to tell you how much of a better boyfriend he could be.
his blood boiled and his heart was full of fury. "that is so messed up." he grumbled arm wrapped around one of your shoulders as he held you in close, inhaling tye sweet scent of your shampoo.
"I know... im so tired of this ejiro. am I really that unlovable?.." you ask, glancing back up at the red haired male, eyelashes decorated with tiny teardrops. kirishima feels his cheeks reddened and blush as he thinks carefully about his reply. he could ruin your friendship if this doesn't go his way. but if it does workout, his dreams will come true. a moment passes before he replies.
"y/n, honestly I can't even hide this anymore from you. I love you. I mean it I swear. it drives me mad seeing you let these guys take advantage of you like this, you're too pretty and perfect to be treated like this. please- let me show you how good I could treat you-"
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and that's how it all started. you were laid down on your back, thighs pushed all the way to your chest as kirishima towered over you.
"relax for me mamas... ima make you feel so good..." he cooes into your ear, hand caressing your cheek. you listen to him and let go of all the tension you were holding in, a breathy exhale leaving your lips.
kirishima teases his tip in between your fold and clit, making the both of you let out a small moan. soon enough he gently pushes himself in, groaning at the way your wet walls clam down on his length. you grip the bedsheets next to you as the feeling of the pleasureable yet painful stretch engulfs your senses.
"you okay princess? can I start?..." he asks, checking in for any signs of discomfort on your face. it took everything in him to not start moving and pound the life out of you, he had fantasized about this moment since forever and it was finally in his hands.
you nod, and kirishima starts moving at a slow pace, making sure you were okay, after all the last thing he would ever want to do, is to hurt you. but soon enough he picks up the pace gradually, making you cry out for more. "your takin it so well for me mamas..." he praises, his hips bucking into your cunt even quicker.
"f-fuck she was made for me hm? bet that lameass boyfriend couldn't get ya like this" he mumbles, pointing your chin down to make sure you maintain eye contact with him.
he begins to get rougher, hands quickly shifting your legs from pressed against your torso to now your calves on his shoulders. the new position made him ram into that spongy spot, making your moans even louder.
it all felt so good, from the way his cock was now even deeper in you, the way his thrust became harsh and passionate you could only shut your eyes from the ecstasy.
"don't close your eyes on me mama, keep them open or I'll stop." he commands, drilling into your hole even faster now, the sound of skin slapping follow suit. you open your eyes, listening to his warning. he smirks and whispers down into your ear "good girl... you're so obedient for me mamas" he grins.
he pounds into you harshly, faint mumbles of " so-so sorry mamas... can't hold back anymore" as he drills into you, his grip on your hips was sure to leave a purplish bruise the next morning.
you feel the familiar know in your stomach tighten. "m'so close eijiro please!-" you mewl. "cmon baby... tell me who fucks you better? me or him?" he teases. "y-you do..." you mutter out, somewhat inaudible. he lightly slaps your cheek "the fuck was that?. tell me who the fuck you belong to-" he grunts out. "y-you, I only belong to you eijiro-" you cry out
"good girl, listenin to me so well..." eijiro grins and places a hand on your bud, digits rubbing quick circles all over it. bringing you over the edge.
your back arches and your thighs tremble. you let a loud moan as you feel the pleasure overwhelm you. the sight alone was enough to make kirishima reach his own high. he pulls out and begins to stroke his cock, letting out pretty groans as his lips part slightly.
long ropes of cum decorate your stomach as you both pant out heavily. you close your eyes, as you catch your breath. while you do so kirishima notices your phone on the other side of the bed, open.
he grabs it quickly without you noticing and snaps a quick photo. hurriedly tapping on your exes icon and sending him the photo.
"kinda sad that you let such a pretty girl like her go. it's okay i'd understand, you didn't deserve her anyways"
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miumura · 2 months
Text
━━━ NERD JAKE . . .
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| nerd!jake headcanons >< |
pairing nerd!jake x gn!reader genre fluff
warnings none? word count 0.8k+ ( 844 words )
💬 — NERD JAKE BRAINROT the voices have spoken to me and told me to write this. guys you don’t understand how much i live for nerd!jake works … like i don’t know but they are just probably a guilty pleasure of mines 🤓 so you knowww i also had to do something about it !! enjoy <3
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NERD JAKE who apologized a million times after bumping into you in the hallway, hurried to pick up your books instead of his scattered papers.
NERD JAKE who became rather flustered when you crouched down to help him, picking up his papers with an apology and a small "thank you” when he gave back the textbooks you dropped.
NERD JAKE who often takes a few glances at your work, purposefully lets you see his so you can correct your answers or ask him for help with anything specific.
NERD JAKE who easily tenses up when your arms touch, breathing sharply as you peek over his shoulder to compare his work with yours, his face turning a shade of pink as he tries to maintain his focus.
NERD JAKE who wears the biggest grin on his face while talking about topics he finds interesting, often uses hand movements to emphasize his words.
NERD JAKE who immediately turns off his phone after sending you a text message, gets overwhelmed with thoughts of whether he came off weirdly or said the wrong things, already considering unsending it.
NERD JAKE who always answers your text messages within the same minute, smiles to himself as you both talk about random things, often leading to late-night conversations.
NERD JAKE who offers to tutor you in the classes you're struggling with, is motivated mainly by the chance to spend more time with you — but also being able to help you too, of course.
NERD JAKE who loves your compliments and praises, is motivated to work even harder to impress you with his knowledge.
NERD JAKE who talks about how smart you are whenever he sees you frustrated with a problem, but often ends up rambling about how great he thinks you are, sometimes leading to his own embarrassment.
NERD JAKE who lets you sleep on his shoulder while he finishes the rest of your assignments.
NERD JAKE who always looks at you when the teacher explains there’s pair work, hoping you’d want to be his partner too.
NERD JAKE who listens to you attentively, making sure to remember to jot down your likes and dislikes later.
NERD JAKE who has a soft spot for you, unable to refuse anything you ask of him, even if it might get him into trouble.
NERD JAKE who keeps all the little notes you two passed around in class in a special box, often revisiting and rereading them whenever he misses you.
NERD JAKE who tries to focus on his studies, but his mind keeps drifting back to you, causing him to eventually plant his head on his desk, scattered with papers.
NERD JAKE who masks the things he does for you as friendly gestures to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the thought of potentially liking you, convincing himself it’s just being a good friend while his heart says otherwise.
NERD JAKE who can’t help but feel slightly jealous when you hang out with someone else, knows he can’t do anything about it and is left pouting.
NERD JAKE who comes up with random excuses whenever you ask to meet up, knows how much he wants to but can't let his feelings grow, especially after seeing you with another guy.
NERD JAKE who focuses on just admiring you from afar, doesn't want to take up too much of your time from your friends at school.
NERD JAKE who leaves an empty classroom with his face a red mess after you confront him about being distant and confess your feelings for him, his heart racing as he tries to process everything.
NERD JAKE who goes home and lies in bed thinking about the incident, replays the moment over and over in his mind before covering his head with his pillow and screaming into it in frustration and embarrassment.
NERD JAKE who stutters while trying to ask you out on a date, nervously fiddling his fingers as he waits for your answer.
NERD JAKE who spends so much time going through his closet trying to find the perfect outfit for the date, heavily debates whether he should wear one of his flannels.
NERD JAKE who gives himself pep talks, practicing to avoid fumbling his words and preparing enough conversation topics to ensure the date won't be awkward.
NERD JAKE who arrives at your house with a bouquet of flowers, complimenting your appearance with a gaze filled with admiration and nervous excitement.
NERD JAKE who spontaneously makes up jokes just to hear your laughter, cherishing the moments when he can bring a smile to your face.
NERD JAKE who completely loses his composure after you kiss him on the cheek, visibly flustered as he touches his face, wondering if he's actually dreaming.
NERD JAKE who walks you home, staying until he sees you safely enter your house before he heads off, a smile lingering on his face.
NERD JAKE who gathers all his courage to ask if he could be your boyfriend, his heart pounding with anticipation as he waits for your response, having poured his feelings into a website created just for this moment.
NERD JAKE who has been captivated by you since the moment you bumped into him, his thoughts fixated on you from the start.
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💭 — should i make more works like these because these are lowkey fun to write 👀
enhypen perm taglist is open ; comment or send an ask !
ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz
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pedriscroquettes · 3 months
Text
𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐍 ✮ PEDRI
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summary. your boyfriend loves you more than yesterday but less than tomorrow.
warnings. none just pure fluff. i’m so glad my starboy is back.
gabri speaks! listened to iman by maria becerra and it’s so pedri coded. had to write this immediately.
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the herd of sweaty players heading through the tunnel to their respective locker rooms was a surreal sight. this was the biggest assignment you had gotten in the three years of you working for a sports journalism column. obviously you knew your boyfriend had a hand in the big step and often received sly remarks from the coworkers you had never gotten along with because of it. luckily for you, you had never been one to undermine yourself or listen to the comments of others.
there was also your boyfriend who would constantly read your pieces out loud and compliment you on your endless knowledge of the sport and plethora of creative words. it was like having your own personal editor. you yearned for the nights before his breaks where the two of you would cozy up in front of the tv revising your works in progress.
“why can’t you ever write about me like this? actually why can’t you write about me period?” he would whine with his flushed cheeks making a special appearance.
“i don’t write about you because they only have me covering the scandinavian leagues.” you said matter-of-factly.
“just tell them you’re dating me.” he would always say.
you never did but with the spanish press it was inevitable that your relationship would see the light of day. your world had flipped instantly and you found yourself on the next flight to germany. it took you a lot of reassuring words to help you understand that you deserved to be there. your boyfriend didn’t write your pieces for you, you did, you were the important figure. so, there you stood with a mic patiently waiting for the player you’d be interviewing to show up.
your co-worker had failed to mention who you’d be interviewing which had you scrambling for various questions to ask. you were fortunate to have an extensive vocabulary for different positions so you were sure that no matter who you’d be talking to your manage to make them comfortable. when you’re met with incredibly pink cheeks you realize why your cameraman was so giddy on the walk towards the tunnel. they were making you interview your own boyfriend.
“live in one!” your cameraman yells loud enough for everyone to hear.
“you’re such a dick!” you quietly scold pedri who’s currently smirking at you.
“you wouldn’t have done it if you knew.” he shrugged and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes because it was true.
you notice the cameraman counting down from three and quickly regain your composure. it’s fascinating for your boyfriend seeing how well you hide your affection for him. this is the first time he’s ever seen you in action and it’s quite mesmerizing the way the lights make you glow and how well you speak. somehow with all the chaos surrounding you two and the sweat dripping off his forehead you’re more beautiful than ever. it must be because you’re in your element he thinks.
“croatia has really done a great job of keeping the ball outside their box, do you think you guys will be able to break through?” you move the mic towards him waiting for an answer.
“of course i mean my connection with rodri is just working super for well for us i think we’ll be able to advance through the midfield more in the second half. modric will not make it easy but that’s why we’re here, to stop him.” he pants.
“lamine has been excellent throughout the first half how do you plan on using him to improve the play?” you scramble to say as time is running out.
“well lamine is excellent with the ball i think he’ll able to get us far into their zone. it’s really a team effort. he’s probably ecstatic right now and that’ll definitely help us.” he answers.
“thank you pedri. good luck in the second half.” your words contain honesty and you give him the most sincere smile.
“thank you, hermosa.” he compliments you on live television.
you want nothing more than to slap him but his hands around your hips take you by surprise. his lips are so close to yours and you immediately forget the camera is still rolling. it’s a quick peck but it’s a kiss nothing less. it’s your turn to display your flushed cheeks. in the blink of an eye he’s gone and you’re left alone to deal with the aftermath. you hear your coworkers tease you through your earpiece and the cameraman is currently laughing at you. you’re quick to redirect to the anchors back at headquarters. that night you and pedri make headlines for your performance in the tunnel.
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slasherstories123 · 2 months
Note
Hello!! Can I please get some period comfort fluff with Jason, Thomas, RZ micheal and Art (whoever else you'd like to add) thank you xoxo
Slashers helping their S/O on their period
Pairing: Jason Voorhees, RZ! Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, and Art the Clown x GN! Reader
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Tags list: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @pink-apollo @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby @callsignwidow @endomishy
Jason Voorhees
Jason will do anything you ask just to help out, he hates seeing you in pain. Especially from cramps and will grab the biggest pain killer bottle he can find just to give to you.
He doesn’t understand the concept so it’s best to sit him down and talk about it just before the time comes just so he could help out.
Sadly. He isn’t a walking heating pad, if he were to place his hand on your stomach to try and soothe your cramps you’ll feel a cold sensation, ice cold to be exact.
He’ll put you in you a warm bath if he sees that your cramps are getting worse
He’s trying his best just to make sure you’re okay and will give you space if you need it.
He’ll cuddle you as long as you want if you want to given his cold body, if you don’t mind it, he’s never letting you go unless you say so just to be there as company and support.
RZ!Michael Myers
Michael doesn’t know much about periods, but he did have an older sister, even then, that wasn’t enough for him, all he knew was that it was a monthly thing women go through.
He knew you were going through it when he saw you curled up in a ball in bed from the excruciating cramps, he doesn’t know what to do until you tell him want your needs were.
He’s trying…for you at least, the best he can do is provide you medicine. All the while staring at your pained figure. If you want him to stay he will.
Michaels hands are warm, he always have something in his hands and will squeeze relentlessly. He’ll even let you place his hand on your stomach as your own heating pad just to help you (after your slight begging of course).
He’ll steal candy from the critters houses to give to you too, you’ll sometimes find them by your night stand or right by your pillow whenever you wake up from a nap.
Thomas Hewitt
He gets help from Luda Mae mostly. He’s clueless and ran straight to her when he saw you curled up in bed.
She’ll tell him everything you might need just so he can be a better help for you.
Thomas will find a way to cool you down since being hot AND on your period isn’t a good mix. He’ll do the smallest things, even if it’s a massage he’ll do it.
Even if you protest he’ll make you rest and will do any small tasks that were assigned for you.
In the night he’ll meekness you to take medicine before bed just so you won’t be in pain throughout the nights
Thomas skin is hot from the Texas heat. His hand makes the perfect heating pad for you too. Whatever cuddling position you’re in his hand will be on your stomach through the night.
Art the Clown
Art is definitely trying his best, and since his actions are different, he’ll go through extreme measures just to get the products you need for your period.
He’ll still pull rather weird tricks just to get a laugh out of you or to distract you from the pain in your stomach.
Most tricks involve weird tactics or disturbing ones, which are in his nature that you’ve gotten used to and you yourself even got to laugh at a few of them
Art is an affectionate guy who will squeeze you tight while cuddling if you ask him to. If it’s a small hug he’ll take it to the next level just to squeeze you in his arms like a stress toy.
Art will also govern you small twinkles he stole or found just to give to you to cheer you up if you’re having your period mood swings. Sometimes he’ll play along if you’re upset and cross his arms with a fake angry expression just to try and mock you.
It’s all harmless in the end.
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Please Professor
It’s my first upper division English literature class and only a month into the semester but I’m already struggling and getting marked D’s and F’s on assignments. I can’t fail this class, I need it to keep my university scholarship to stay in school. I reach out to my professor, asking to meet with him for some extra guidance and he agrees, but only has availabilities late in the evenings. I’m happy to comply, making the trek from my dorm to the English building at 9pm for our first meeting.
The English department is on the edge of campus and when I walk into the building, the whole place looks deserted this late at night. His office is the only one with lights on and I knock softly on his open door before stepping in.
“Hi Professor, thank you so much for finding the time to meet with me for extra help!” He looks up from the papers he’s grading and smiles at me. “Not a problem, I know my class can be overwhelming for a lot of students who aren’t used to the rigor that I expect. Come in and take a seat, we’ll have you whipped up into shape in no time.” He steps out from behind his desk and closes the door behind me as I walk in. I’m too preoccupied with getting my notes out to notice that he turns the lock on the door, locking us in.
“Let’s talk about some of your recent work, and we’ll work on a few things I have my mind on to help with your technique.” He circles around to the bookcase against his wall, grabbing a textbook. “Oh go ahead and reach over my desk to grab that workbook on my desk. There are some exercises there that I think will help you.”
I stand and reach across his large, dark-stained wood desk to grab the book. Suddenly, he’s on me. Before I can straighten up, he grabs the back of my neck and slams me against his desk. I scream briefly as the workbook tumbles out of my hand and I find myself pressed against the desk, the front of my body flush on it while I’m bent over. Before I have time to react fully, he bends down over me, and whispers darkly, “Now don’t struggle, because I’d hate to have to fail you for being a bad student. And I know how badly you need my class to stay in your program so right now, you listen to me and be a good girl and maybe I’ll consider letting you pass my class.”
I cry out, “Stop please professor, I don’t understand, what are you doing?”
“Of course you don’t understand, you stupid little slut. Too dumb to even comprehend what’s going on around you huh?” He chuckles darkly and I feel his hand cup my ass briefly before it cracks down on me, spanking me harshly over my skirt.
“Ah, wait no! Please, you can’t do this!” I try and push up off the table but he’s too strong. “Oh no pretty slut, you are going to take whatever I give you or else I will fail you right now and you’ll be kicked out of the school by the end of the week. Do you want that instead?” His hand rests on my ass, kneading my flesh roughly and the other one increases the pressure on the back of my neck.
“Please, no,” I whimper brokenly. I feel him breathe deep against my hair and he groans softly. “You’re mine for the semester, slut. And you are going to do whatever I want, just to keep your pretty little self on your scholarship.”
I start to cry, shaking slightly as my tears are dripping down my face and onto his desk. His hand comes off my neck and I hold still, knowing I can’t fight back in any way. His hand flips my skirt up and he sees the white panties I’m wearing with pink little bows printed all over them. “So pretty, slut,” he says as he runs a finger down between the globes of my ass, towards my pussy. I whimper softly and my hands come to grip the side of his desk.
“I don’t want you making any noise,” he says and without warning, I feel his hand crack down on my ass again, this time with more force. The spank makes my body lurch forward on the desk, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out. He doesn’t hesitate as he begins to rain down harsh spanks all over my ass and upper thighs. I cry harder, muffling my sobs as best I can as I feel each hit adding to the soreness.
He’s methodical as he continues, not stopping or slowing for what feels like hours. My ass and thighs are burning but slowly, I can feel my pussy reacting as well, swelling and starting to drip more and more with each hit. I squirm slightly, trying to discreetly rub my legs together to relieve some of the tension. He notices.
“You’re getting turned on by this aren’t you, slut?” He laughs softly and I whimper in protest, “Please no, I’m not, please stop.”
He grabs my neck again, “Don’t lie, that’s not the behavior of a good student. I can see your pretty pussy dripping through your panties from here, you dirty little slut.” I whimper, feeling my face burn as hot as my ass. He reaches down and slides a hand against my pussy, through my panties and I gasp. His fingers dance along my lips, my wetness making my panties cling to the outline of my cunt. Without warning, he grips my panties and tears them away from my body, leaving my pussy fully exposed and my skirt still bunched around my waist. I whimper and feel myself gush a little at his actions, the clench of my cunt making me feel even worse.
His fingers come to meet my bare body now, and he slides them against my slit, laughing when he feels how much I’m dripping. “Oh we’re gonna have fun this semester,” he says. His fingers pluck my swollen clit, and I arch my back and moan, the sound erupting out of me unbidden. He’s relentless as he works my clit quickly, my wetness letting his fingers slide deliciously over me, the friction making me eyes roll slightly. My legs are trembling as I feel my orgasm fast approaching and he knows it too. “Little slut, are you going to cum like this? All splayed out for your professor, so desperate for that passing grade that you’ll do anything, even degrade yourself like a common whore?” I whine softly, my head spinning from the pleasure as my pussy clenches.
I vaguely hear his belt jingling and the rustle of clothing but I’m too preoccupied with my approaching orgasm to understand what that means. He doesn’t let up on my clit and I can feel myself seconds from erupting, moans and whimpers coming out of my mouth desperately.
My body seizes and I feel my orgasm rush through me, making me let out a strangled moan as feeling hits. Suddenly, I feel his long, hard cock slam into my cunt and I wail. He fucks me hard and fast through my orgasm, not stopping to let me adjust to his length or his speed. I’m scrambling to stay on the desk as he rails into me, his harsh grunts in my ear and his bruising grip on my hips. “That’s it, squeeze my cock just like that, slut. Fuck, your cunt feels so good.”
My eyes roll back into my head as his cock pound into me, my previous orgasm hasn’t even faded before I feel a second one building. He doesn’t seem to care about slowing down to let me recover as he keeps his unforgiving pace, drilling into me and pulling groans and whimpers out of me. His hand goes back to play with my clit and I scream, the throbbing of my cunt mixed with his attention pushes my second orgasm over the edge. I feel my walls flutter around his cock and he groans in my ear as I cum, sobbing from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, he fucks me through my second orgasm, the rubbing of his cock against my g-spot making me see stars.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum in your tight little pussy slut.” I feel his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his orgasm. “I hope you’re on birth control, slut, because I’m gonna fill your cunt,” he says, his words punctuated by his thrusts. His groan is deep and guttural when he cums, the feeling of his cock erupting inside of me making my cunt clench harder around him, pulling him in. He stops for a second, letting his body cover mine, pressing even harder into the desk. His harsh breathing in my ear sends shivers down my spine.
“Flip over, get on the table, and hold yourself open,” his voice is gravelly as he pulls away from me, his cum dripping out of my cunt onto my legs. I whimper as I force my body to comply, pushing my sore and fucked out body onto his desk and spreading my legs, leaving my dripping cunt exposed to him. He smirks, “Stay there, slut.” He circles around his desk and I hear him opening a drawer and grabbing something before he comes back. It’s a vibrator. My eyes widen and I whimper, “Wait, no please. I can’t, it’s too much.” He leans into my face and growls darkly, “I don’t care, you’ll take what I give if you want to pass my class, got it slut?” I nod as tears start to fall again.
He clicks the vibrator on and I watch as the head blurs with its intensity. He brings it to my cunt, smirking slightly as he places his free hand on my hip, preemptively holding me down. His hand travels down and parts my folds to reveal my swollen clit, red and puffy from his previous attention. Without any preparation, he pushes the head of the vibrator directly on my clit and I scream. The intensity is so high and my body is already reeling from the overstimulation from his cock. The vibrator makes it all so much worse, but so good. I arch my back and buck my hips, desperately trying to dislodge him. “It’s time to earn your next grade, slut,” he says smirking.
“For every orgasm, you get 10%. Cum 10 times, and you’ll get 100% on the next essay.” My eyes widen and I sob, “No please, I can’t, please it’s too much!”
He smirks, “Or I could fail you now.”
“Ah please, no no no!” I’m crying, from the feeling of my poor clit being so thoroughly overstimulated and from the idea of him failing me. Despite my previous orgasms, I feel myself barreling towards another. The feeling builds as he grounds the vibrator harder against my clit, and I scream it out, feeling my pussy gush as I squirm and shake. He smirks, “10%.”
My next orgasm seems to blend with the first and I’m hardly coherent enough to process his words as he forces me to cum again and again.
Thirty minutes later, I’ve cum seven more times and my body is at its limit. “Please no more, please professor.” I’m almost unconscious, my voice cracking from my constant screaming and my cunt bright red from the vibrator. He’s uncaring as he stands over me, forcing my body to endure orgasm after orgasm.
“Just one more and you get a 100%, you’re so close, slut. Don’t stop now.” His smile is feral as he keeps the vibrator directly in my clit. My legs shake and I feel myself teetering at the edge of one more orgasm. The feeling overwhelms me, pain and pleasure blending into a euphoric feeling and my eyes roll and my back arches for one final time.
As the orgasm fades, my body lies limp, my legs dangling off his desk and head lolling. He finally clicks off the vibrator. “Good job slut, your first A in my class. Keep it up and maybe you’ll be passing in a month or so. I’ll see you next week same time.”
The semester ended last week and my grade for the class is already finalized on my transcript, an A+. But here I am, spread wide on his desk again, my cunt clenching and dripping around his cock as I cum like a perfect little whore for him.
“Such a good slut.”
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darqx · 17 days
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HEEEY MACARENA (ALRIGHT!)
Here's some long overdue BP and HH asks :) I tend to combine the two since there's not as many as the RADs, so this starts with BP and then moves into HH/Gen qs.
BP
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MUAH ~ (I actually doodled this some time last year for fun and whimsy, based on those long mouth kiss meme pics XD)
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A very quick overview of these types!
Vescordem: Maneaters/cannibals, excessively tall and strong.
Aleores: Minor dealmakers (goods and services). Jaw can unhinge and has venomous bite.
Sollicio: Major dealmakers - soul stealing ability. Often very good looking, has ichor powers.
Voxter: Ability to project 'thoughts' into someone else's mind - you ever have an intrusive thought? Same concept. All have a unique mark across the top part of their face.
Caumacies: Maneaters/cannibals, very strong. Has a third eye which sees only in heat vision - rarely opened simultaneously with normal eyes.
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Hmm M or MA15 i think 🤔
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You know, i actually have an idea for a game that has nothing to do with anything I'm currently doing XD One day i'll actually have time to make it, maybe. But anyway currently my actual project is i'm planning on making a comic \o/
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I AM PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE that i have thumbnailed like 70 pages of this bloody thing and i'm still only in the first quarter of the planned chapters lol OTL Once i finish thumbing the chapter I'm on I plan to go back and render the pages properly before starting to post them :D
...which should hopefully give me a buffer as i repeat the process for the next chapters |D
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You know, the concept of my characs being comfort characs for someone will never get old for me. It just tickles me pink ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ This answer will have two levels to it.
It's fine to RP or ask blog with Rire - he's one of my more "known" characs thanks to BTD so as long as credit is given (and it's made clear I'm not running the blog so it's not canon) then it's cool.
I'd prefer if no ask/RP blogs are created for any of my other BP or HH characs, as they are not as known yet. This may be revisited once i actually get the BP comic out but for now it's a no, sorry! (Though, if you are RPing in like...a private Discord with other friends who know who the characs are then I'm a bit more lenient with that.)
The reason for the BP/HH level is that ages ago when I had started establishing my own characs more, I randomly happened to find a forum where someone was RPing as Izm and .D but no one else knew who the characs were and so they clearly thought the RPer was the original artist and creator. Said RPer was not dissuading anyone of that notion. That has stuck with me for forever because at the time i never anticipated that someone would...actually try and do that with an OC. Like, bro srsly?!
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One pet peeve for everyone:
.D: Willfully stupid people
Izm: .D smoking. He could care less if anyone else smokes but .D is not allowed on his watch
Marcus: Having decisions made for him without his input
Zeke: "How's the weather up there?"
Wei Ren: When people think he can't understand English cos he has an accent and so they deliberately speak slower and louder
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Geez Caleb why are you damn RUDE
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Here's one i prepared earlier! 😌
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I'm not sure why you included Marcus as a demon, he's a human lol.
HH/More Gen
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There are clubs which are created by students but need approval from the adults to exist.
HH is one of the better boarding schools which generally turn out successful alumni. The "obvious problems" we see are not actually obvious lol.
He doesn't need such manipulations.
Thanks! I hope you are inspired to go forth and create stuff! :D
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One of the only perks of being a prefect at HH, really :d
Absolutely not lol
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4. These types of qs are always amusing to me only because you guys expect me to know but i absolutely do not XDD. Do normal people actually have a fave animal?? I dont even have a fave animal!! Anyway offshoot aside sorry that i can't even randomly assign anything, but if you are interested here is what they might be AS animals lol.
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They actually don't have names because they were randomly designed NPCs i drew as like, placeholders |D;
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Not including Rire or Nurse Isla:
.D is asexual, Izm is bisexual, and everyone else is straight probably. Caleb and Desmond are violently straight (as in Des is like very 90s stoner bro adamantly vocal about being straight and Caleb will actually try and break your neck for insinuating anything).
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I have some female characs but I dont draw them that often as they are more side characs in BP and HH. The ones ive's drawn at least once are Isla (who looks like this, also doodled above), Tish (Des's sister) and Kenzie and Kelly (Zeke's sisters).
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Every once in a blue moon i get an ask saying this but whenever i go to check nothing is wrong, so...nothing is wrong they do work |D; As the age old tech saying goes have you tried turning it off and on again? :d
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Aren't those kind of things supposed to be...based on yourself??
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irisintheafterglow · 2 months
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heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: sabrina carpenter - "please please please"
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summary: a school assignment leads you to team bofurin. a chance meeting in the cafe leads you to umemiya. where else will furin high lead you over the course of 5 days?
wc: 7.5k (lord have mercy)
cw/tags: umemiya hajime x gn journalist!reader, strangers to lovers, swearing/explicit language, brief canon-typical violence, blood, and peril, angst/fluff and injury hurt/comfort, ume's a gentleman but that gets tested lol
note: friends this is the longest thing i have ever posted here and i was really debating not posting it because i didn't like how it was turning out, but then i just pushed through the rest of it...and it became 7 thousand words.....ANYWAY really hope you enjoy !
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <33
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— Day 1 of 5: “Please, please, please // Don’t prove I’m right” 
A glass bottle shatters on the sidewalk below you, shadowy figures scattering into dark alleyways like rats. You grimace at their sadistic laughter and silently thank your host for not living on the ground-level. The sound of a shaking spray paint can echoes in the empty street and you watch a messy hot pink insignia appear as it's drawn on a shop window. Damn. This was going to be a long five days. 
“Wait, you want me to do what?” 
“You’ll be staying with a high school friend of mine who owns a store in the area,” your journalism teacher continues, quickly scanning over a student’s document and grading it without blinking. She swipes to the next document, mechanically repeating the same process of grading it and moving on. She doesn’t stop to see the shock on your face.
“Ma’am, I don’t know–”
“You’ll be fine, just stick to the populated areas and don’t go out at night. If you want to, you could even befriend some of those Furin kids,” she says as she absentmindedly clicks away at her keyboard. “It’ll be good for you to report on something other than the mathletes team, for once.” At least the mathletes are safe, you think to yourself. A little awkward, but nowhere near the delinquents at Furin.
“Hold on, may I ask why I’m the one doing this?” You wring your hands nervously, glancing at the afternoon sun sinking outside the classroom window. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me–” 
“You want the full-ride scholarship, don’t you?” Her eyes are beady through the thin rims of her glasses. You fight the urge to shrink away from her piercing gaze, one that you never become accustomed to no matter how many times you’re subject to it. “Trust me when I tell you that the judges will not care how many times the mathletes lost, no matter how eloquently you write about it.” You let your skepticism show on your face. 
“But they’ll care about a bunch of boys that get into fights every day?” If she cares about your deadpanned comment, she doesn’t acknowledge it. 
“My friend told me once or twice that there’s more to those Furin boys than meets the eye,” she says before turning back to her screen. Your confusion is still obvious, but the only help your teacher gives you is an indifferent shrug. “It’s up to you. But if you want a competitive edge, you need to take more risks.” You exhale, weighing your options and ultimately deciding that your career was more important. 
“When do I start?” 
You begin your morning early on your first day in Makochi. After leaving your host’s apartment and staring at the graffiti-covered high school that was drowning in plant overgrowth, you abruptly turned on your heel and decided to observe the people on the busiest street. You had no interest in exploring Furin High School itself, only the effects of crime and constant fighting on the uninvolved citizens. You catch a group of boys wearing black jackets heading in the same direction as you and duck into the nearest cafe, hoping to wait them out and watch how they interact with the town. Across the street, the owners of the shop that was vandalized with the pink insignia scrub the paint from the glass. 
“Good morning.” A girl with short brown hair greets you behind the counter, gesturing for you to take a seat on one of the stools. You thank her and set your notebook down next to you, flipping through the menu when you feel her staring at you. “Are you new here?” 
“I’m in town for a few days,” you reply. Her demeanor is friendlier than you would expect from an area that sees so much violence. “I’m from one of the neighboring high schools.” The girl nods, placing a cup of water in front of you, along with a set of chopsticks. 
“Are you visiting family? We don’t get many visitors here, so I’m just wondering what a new face is doing in town,” she says, nodding when you point at the menu item you want for breakfast. 
“No family here; I’m actually studying the town for an assignment. My teacher thinks that if I write about this town, it’ll help me get a scholarship.” Her mouth opens in an ah of understanding and she ducks into the refrigerator to retrieve some eggs. An idea pops into your brain and you open your notebook. “While I’m here, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Furin High?”
“Sure. Bofurin members eat here all the time.” Your eyebrows draw together and, unlike your journalism teacher, she understands and addresses your lack of knowledge. “Bofurin is the team that protects this town. It’s made up entirely of students at Furin High School. Actually, it’s a little funny that you stopped into here today, of all places, since–” 
“Kotoha!” The door flies open and the same group of boys that were behind you on the sidewalk corral into the cafe, the space suddenly too small for the number of people present. The source of the voice, a tall guy with bright white hair and coattails attached to his jacket, approaches the girl behind the counter with a blinding smile. “Did you miss me?” 
“No,” Kotoha deadpans, sending you a sympathetic look as more boys file into the cafe. “I was gonna say that you chose the one day Umemiya treats all his underclassmen to breakfast. Umemiya’s the leader, the tall idiot I was just talking to.” You grimace and begin to jot down what little information you’d learned about Furin, covering the side of your face with your hand and hoping none of the students question why you were there. It’s wishful thinking, unfortunately. 
“Oi.” You’re snapped from your brainstorming daze by a boy whose hair and eyes were two different colors. He was watching you write like you were plotting how to demolish the high school and you curse your luck for the millionth time that you picked the one cafe the Bofurin team frequented. “Who are you and why are you here?”
“Sakura, you can’t just say that to strangers. Tell them you’re sorry,” Kotoha, the girl behind the counter, chides. The boy’s cheeks turn pink and he turns away, muttering what sounds like a half-assed apology to you. “Don’t mind him,” she says to you with a warm smile. “He’s terrible around new people.” Sakura’s face twists into indignation. 
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are. You got into a fight on your first day here, and school hadn’t even started yet,” points out another student with blonde hair sitting next to a boy wearing dangling earrings and an eyepatch. You’re quick to write down anything and everything you were hearing, picking up pieces of conversation from the tables around you. “Hey, what are you writing?” The question doesn’t come off as accusatory, but you shut your notebook anyways and guard it like a treasure chest. 
“It’s nothing. Just homework,” you force out. 
“Homework,” the boy with the eyepatch echoes. “So, you live around here?”
“They go to a neighboring highschool,” Kotoha explains before you have the chance to speak. “They’re actually here to study Bofurin.” All three boys turn to you expectantly, as if you were going to interview them on the spot. 
“I’m just here to observe,” you say quickly, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m not here to interfere or get in your way or anything.” 
“Who said you would be getting in the way? I’m sure Umemiya wouldn’t mind–” 
“I wouldn’t mind what?” You jump, the same guy that called Kotoha’s name upon entering the cafe appearing like a ghost between you and the boys you were conversing with. “Have you three ordered yet? You need to eat! We have a big day today,” the person you assume is Umemiya instructs the boys. To your surprise, they’re quick to nod their assent and place their orders. “Good. Now, what was it I wasn’t going to mind?” 
“There’s someone here to study us,” the half-and-half haired kid mutters, pointing in your direction. Like before, the two other students scold him for his brashness. 
“Don’t say it like that, Sakura.” 
“It makes it sound like we’re animals in a documentary.” 
“Study us?” Umemiya ignores them and turns to you with a curious look. “Why?” Your face heats and you hastily close your notebook again, hoping that Kotoha would be done with your food soon so you could vacate the cafe and avoid it for the rest of your stay. 
“It’s for an assignment for school,” you reply hesitantly. 
“You don’t need to be so humble,” Kotoha calls over her shoulder from the stove. “You can tell them it’s for a scholarship.” The three boys next to Umemiya gape at you in awe, but you can’t help feeling the slightest bit embarrassed that you drew so much attention to yourself on your first day in town. You didn’t know much about the Furin boys except for their reputation as fighters, and you expected Umemiya to turn you away and kick you out on the spot. 
“I’ll be out of town in a few days, so you don’t need to–”
“You can shadow us.” What the hell did he just say? You blink at him, unsure if you hallucinated his words or if he actually said them. Umemiya’s face suddenly turns a shade redder and he turns to his three underclassmen, whispering uneasily, “That is the term for it, right?”
“I think so,” the blonde one whispers back. “Suo, you’re better with words. What does it–”
“You want them to follow you around and see how you guys work,” Kotoha says as she brings you your meal in a to-go container. “That’s what ‘shadowing’ means.” Umemiya thanks her with a thumbs-up before turning back to you. 
“What she said. Come with us as we go through our daily routines so you really understand what we do.” You start to stutter out a list of fake reasons why you couldn’t, something along the lines of getting in their way and needing to take a fish to the veterinarian. Umemiya doesn’t budge and sees through your nerves like glass. “You won’t be inconveniencing us at all, I promise. If anything, it’ll be good for more people to have an understanding of Bofurin.” 
“Yeah. If you just watch us from the outside, your writing’s not gonna be any good,” Sakura says bluntly. The two boys next to him flinch and cover their faces. 
“You should stop saying things like that, Sakura,” the boy with the eye-patch warns. 
“Like I said,” Kotoha mumbles in passing. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just like that.”
“So, what do you say?” Umemiya grins at you in a way that unwillingly makes your heart rate increase and, before your mind knows it, you’re nodding in agreement and he settles on the stool next to you. “Great! Before we start, do you mind if I ask you about yourself?”
—  Day 2 of 5: “I know I have good judgment // I know I have good taste”
It’s 7:00 am when Umemiya appears outside your door. 
“Good morning! Did you sleep well? I know yesterday was a lot, so hopefully we didn’t scare you too badly.” You rub your eyes and manage to give him a sleepy ‘good morning,’ trying to shake off the exhaustion after running around the previous day with Bofurin. The moon was hanging high by the time Umemiya dropped you off at your host’s apartment and you thought you were hearing things when he said he’d be back in the morning to pick you up. “We’re not gonna have time to stop by the cafe, so I picked up something for you to eat.” You open the small paper bag he hands you to find a pastry wrapped in a napkin, slightly squashed from the walk. “Do you have everything?” 
“Yes, I do. This is really nice of you Umemiya,” you say as you fall into step next to him. He shrugs and waves you off, but you catch the self-confident upturn at the corner of his mouth. Why you were staring at his mouth in the first place could not be waterboarded out of you. 
“Don’t mention it. What’d you think of yesterday? Oh, wait. Let me take this from you so you can eat.” Before you can stop him, he reaches over and carefully slides the strap of your bag from your shoulder and hoists it onto his. Surprised, you thank him again, something that you found yourself doing a lot since you met him. It wasn’t like you were trying to overstate your gratitude, Umemiya just kept doing things for you; on your first day, he did everything from crouching down to tie your shoe to herding you toward the side of the sidewalk, away from the busy street. So far, Bofurin was nothing like you’d previously imagined. 
“There’s a lot more structure in place than I thought there would be,” you answer, taking a few bites of the pastry. After Umemiya gave you a proper introduction to first-year class captain (and your self-proclaimed #1 skeptic) Sakura, he also introduced you to Suo and Nirei, the two boys that were with him. The rest of your first day was a flurry of meetings and broadcast announcements from the top of the school, mixed with an unexpected amount of pot transplanting on the roof. “I didn’t realize there would be such a clear hierarchy of power…or a community garden.”
“You thought we were just a bunch of kids who got into fights every day?”
“Yes–wait, no!” Your face burns while you backtrack and try to explain yourself. Umemiya doesn’t hear it and simply chuckles at your slip. “Okay, fine. Yes, I did think you were a bunch of kids that got into fights every day. But,” you pause, taking a look at the pastry in your hand. “There’s obviously more I need to learn.” 
“That’s alright,” Umemiya beams. The sun starts to peek over the roofs of the little stores and houses, painting Furin High golden as you approach. “That's why I’m here. Oh, and before I forget, give me your phone.” You watch as he dials his contact information in, even taking a picture of himself for the contact photo. “What do you think?” 
“Wow, you look great. Thanks for doing that for me.”
“Of course. Now you have a direct line to me in case you ever need anything!” He has a cute smile, speaks an unprompted voice in your head that you’re quick to silence. You’re about to tease him about being so friendly with strangers when you catch sight of a smear of hot pink running across the bricks beside you. Umemiya’s smile fades as you walk past the metal garage door of a food vendor, it too becoming the victim of the same pink marking you saw on your first night. 
“That’s the second one I’ve seen now.” His eyes are narrowed when you turn to him. He’s not focusing on what you’re saying; you can tell by the way the muscle in his jaw clenches that he’s running analyses like a supercomputer. “Do you have any idea who’s doing this?”
“There hasn’t been word of a pink team in ages, let alone one that has the audacity to come on Bofurin territory and claim it,” he says quietly.  
“They’re trying to take it from you?”
“Keyword ‘trying.’ Doesn’t mean they’ll be successful.” The darkness of his expression disappears in a blink and you’re met with a self-assured grin. “Ah, well don’t worry about it. We handle this kind of stuff all the time,” he reassures you, readjusting your bag over his shoulder and starting again down the sidewalk.  
“How often do you deal with stuff like this?” 
“Weekly, probably,” he shrugs and you make a mental reminder to write it in your notebook. 
“Are people just looking for a fight because you’re the strongest team, or is it something else?” Your mind momentarily brings you back to sitting across from the mathletes team in the school library, giving them food for thought and jotting down their responses. It was a little different, asking questions of Umemiya, but the familiar feeling of seeking answers is comforting muscle memory. 
“I don’t have a concrete answer for you, honestly,” he admits. “But, my theory is that people don’t like what we do here. We protect the town and discourage people from doing unethical things. People simply don’t like being told what they can’t do.” You nod, trying your best to remember everything he’s saying. It made sense why smaller teams would want to take down the most powerful team in the area, but the morality side and restricting the actions of others because they harm the townspeople was something you didn’t expect to also play into the situation. “Are you going to interview any other teams here?” You shake your head.
“I wasn’t planning on it. The answers that you’re giving me now are more than I could have hoped for,” you answer and you catch his satisfied smirk out of the corner of your eye. “Do you think I should study other teams?” 
“You don’t need to. You fit in better with us, anyway.” 
— Day 3 of 5: “Whatever devil’s inside you // Don’t let him out tonight”
Reports of the hot pink marking become more frequent the longer you stay with Bofurin, both for sightings on shop windows and shadows sneaking around alleyways just out of patroller’s lines of sight. The more teams Umemiya sent out to paint over the vandalism, the more sightings increased. To you, it was an indicator of growing tensions between Bofurin and surrounding, envious teams. 
To Umemiya, it was Wednesday. 
“We have a collaborative meeting with another team, Shishitoren, today,” he informs you on the walk from your host’s apartment to the school, your bag swinging weightlessly on his shoulder. “I’d like for you to join us, but it’s ultimately up to you.” 
“Do you have a history with them?” The team leader’s eyes space out and he blinks once, then twice, before coming back to the present. 
“Yeah…you could say that,” he chuckles. “Just don’t ask Sakura about his first one-on-one with them. He gets defensive.” You stifle a grin.
“Oh, did he lose?”
“He won, actually,” Umemiya corrects, equally as amused as you, “Which is the part he gets mad about, so you should probably steer clear of the subject all together.” You nod, interviewing Sakura being nowhere in your plans. “Suo and Nirei will be able to give you all the info you need, though,” he says quickly, mistaking your silence for discontent. “And of course, you could always ask me too.” He smiles at you and something in your brain short-circuits. 
Ever the professional, you try not to think about how nice Umemiya’s been to you when you arrive at the Ori, headquarters of Shishitoren. Steering away from the run-down screening room, you and Umemiya’s team climb up to the roof, where a group of guys wearing orange baseball jackets are waiting. 
“What took you so long? Breakfast is getting cold!” The team’s leader, Tomiyama, leaps from his seat on the ledge and bounds over to Umemiya. “Oh?” He pauses, looking you up and down before smiling brightly at you. “You brought your new friend, Ume!” You wave politely and introduce yourself, a little more relaxed with Umemiya at your side. 
“Smart,” comments whom you assume to be the second-in-command, Togame. He moves at a leisurely pace, barely even blinking as he lifts Tomiyama by the collar of his jacket and sets him at the other end of the meeting’s circle. “Our guys have caught at least three of their guys running surveillance on your side. Who knows what would’ve happened if you left your guest at the school alone.”
“Surveillance?” You frown, but Umemiya doesn’t look surprised. “And what do you mean, something could have happened?” 
“Rival members follow others around, learning their ins and outs,” Togame tells you. “Essentially what you’ve been doing, but uninvited. They’ve been getting pretty pissy about Bofurin lately, so they might’ve tried to use you as some kind of collateral if they knew Umemiya would be out.” The thought makes you gag, and the same discontent expressions can be found on all the occupants of the roof. 
“They’re not very nice, those guys,” Tomiyama pouts. “The ones we’ve questioned wanna take over your side, Ume.” So other teams want to take over Bofurin’s territory more often than Umemiya lets on, you think to yourself. Maybe not even on a weekly basis, but daily. 
“Did you let the guys you’ve questioned off the hook? Or you still have ‘em here?” Hiragi asks. 
“We don’t have any of them here, no,” Togame replies. “But we have a general idea of how they make their rounds and can probably catch a team or two when they start following Bofurin guys.” 
“Great,” Umemiya concludes with a single decisive clap. “Let’s go get ‘em.” 
“Alright, field trip time!” Tomiyama’s energy sends him practically bouncing off the walls. You pack up what little things you brought with you to the meeting and are ready to fall into step behind the guys, but Umemiya stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 
“Yo, Kaji.” The lollipop-mouthed second-year pulls down his headphones to listen. “Take them back to the school. Don’t want them there in case things get ugly.” You open your mouth to protest, ready to fire off why it’s important that you see the good, bad, and ugly of Bofurin, but Umemiya silences you with a shake of his head. “Please go. I’m not changing my mind.” 
“Why don’t you want me to be there?”
“Like I said, things could get ugly–” 
“And,” you cut in, “I’m capable enough to run if I need to. You can trust me to get out of there on my own.” The tone of his reply is soft and patient, like it was for your own good that you didn’t go. 
“Maybe next time, okay?” You frown, disappointment twisting in your gut. “I don’t doubt that you can handle your own if things get bad. I just…don’t want you to see it if things get bad.” He runs a hand through his hair and the flex of his large bicep suddenly clicks the pieces of understanding into place. There was a reason why he was the head of Bofurin and respected by all these rowdy team members, whether they were on his team or not. Though you hadn’t seen him fight yet, there was a more dangerous side to Umemiya that existed with the kindness he’d shown you. He didn’t want you there in case things got ugly because of him. 
“I–I see.” He nods with a sigh of relief and turns to leave; you pull your arms close to your body at the sudden chill as he walks away. “Umemiya?” He pauses at the doorway, his hand hovering over the handle as he looks over his shoulder at you expectantly. Several things occurred to you to say to them, all of them borderline condescending if he took it the wrong way. Don’t do anything brash. Make sure you come back. You shouldn’t need to use your fists for this. 
“Be safe, please,” is what you settle for. 
— Day 4 of 5: “Everyone makes mistakes // But just don’t”
You’re past the halfway point of studying Furin High and team Bofurin when Hiragi storms into the broadcast room, grumbling about being out of supplies. Umemiya isn’t worried and reassures his friend that they would have what they were missing by the end of the day. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin was having a significant effect on you, since you volunteer to do the run before anyone else does. 
To be fair, you did need to run back to your host’s apartment–who had so graciously started letting Umemiya in while he waited for you to get ready in the morning–because you’d forgotten to drop your notebook in your bag before rushing out the door. The list wasn’t huge, either, and you figured you could do the whole trip in about an hour: painkillers (Nirei misjudged his spacing and accidentally got kicked in the crotch), small bandages (Sakura, self-explanatory), wet wipes (Suo noted how dirty the desks became because of everyone’s shoes), and a few packages of plant food (Umemiya insisted on buying some potted flowers from the vendor on your street).
“Are you sure? One of the patrol teams can pick the stuff up,” Umemiya offers, eyeing you oddly. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin meant you also caught the team’s head staring when he thought you weren’t looking, and then quickly turning away when you looked back. “Or, if you go, let me send one of the class captains with you, just in case. Sakura should be on patrol in the area.” You shake your head and stand up to leave. 
“I’ll be fine, Ume, I promise.” The nickname slips out before you can stop it, but he doesn’t seem to notice, eyebrows drawn in concern as he watches the floor. You lightly rest your hand on his shoulder and he snaps out of it, exhaling through his nose before nodding, reluctantly. 
“Call if anything happens,” Hiragi grunts before turning to Umemiya. “Hey, weren’t you talking about giving them a–”
“Hiragi, you’re a genius,” Umemiya cuts in and moves to dig through a box at the corner of the room. “Hey, wait,” he says, gently catching your wrist before you’re out the door and pressing a jacket into your hand. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin, and you would know the jacket’s green collar and the insignia anywhere. “No one should bother you if you’re wearing it.” 
Ironically, absolutely nothing happens until you’re on your way back from the convenience store. Your host was waiting for you in the living area to give you your notebook, and the store was barely a block away from her apartment. You find the needed items easily, placing a bag of mixed hard candies and a box of new chalk into your basket because you noticed they were running out. It’s a perfect day as you walk back to Furin, all cloudless skies and cool breezes and smooth sidewalks. The Furin jacket fits snugly on your torso, sturdy enough to protect you from the chill in the shade but light enough that you don’t overheat from the sun. It’s nice, something you could get used to. 
You don’t realize they’re behind you until it’s too late. 
“So, you’re Bofurin’s bitch, huh? Nice to see you in the light.” You stop in your tracks and look behind you to see a dozen guys in hot pink team uniforms you don’t recognize. There shouldn’t be that many of a rival team on Bofurin grounds, right? What the hell were they doing here? 
“You gonna say something, or are you stupid as you are ugly?” 
“Aww, look at them. They’re shaking and they don’t even know why,” one of the guys in the front sneers. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll give you something to be scared of.” The group starts to approach you and your vision slows like everything was moving through syrup. You catch the symbol on their uniforms, the same one that’s been spray painted on the town’s buildings for the past few days. The encroaching team was trying to take you to get leverage over Bofurin. Not good. Definitely not good. 
“Umemiya’s gonna think twice about messing with us after they see how we mess up his little pet!” Umemiya. You need to get to Umemiya. Your senses come back to you like a freight train and you have half the mind to dig your shoes into the street and run. 
The rival team shouts after you and the sound of pursuing footsteps thunder down the road. With one hand gripping the plastic bag of supplies, you yank your phone from the jacket pocket and frantically swipe to his contact. Your assailants draw closer and you force more energy into your legs, barely outrunning them by a few seconds. You cut through an alleyway and round a corner, but a dip in the road simultaneously makes you trip, pain shooting through your ankle. Shit! Your finger misses the ‘call’ button on your phone and you tap the ‘send location’ button instead. It’s not what you were going for, but your only options were to stop to properly call for help and get caught or keep running on your tweaked ankle. With the group of guys racing around the corner to catch you, you have no choice but to keep running. 
“Get the hell away from me!” You skid to a halt and turn to face the team head-on, your voice unsteady and breathless. You were finally starting to recognize the buildings around you; at the same time, your lungs were aching unbearably. Your pursuers slow to a halt and you’re stuck in a standoff in the middle of the street, the townspeople shutting themselves away in their stores to minimize damage to their own livelihoods. You stumble backward when the team leader steps forward, a cruel grin covering his entire face. 
“C’mon now, we just wanna have a little chat with you, you being Bofurin’s newest addition and all.” The men behind him leer at you, swinging their bats and crowbars up onto their shoulders. 
“Take one step closer and all of Bofurin comes running,” you snarl, shoving your phone forward, your finger hovering over the ‘send location’ button.
“That’s a whole lotta bullshit spewing out of your mouth, sweetie.”
“Why don’t you shut yours, asshole?” You spit. Sure the phone was a bluff, a last-ditch effort to stall for time.
It didn’t matter.
You knew how quickly Bofurin organized. 
As the hot pink leader lunges the remaining distance between you two, he’s knocked to the side by a blur of black, green, and white. Sakura stands up straight, rolls his shoulders, and scowls at you. 
“Why didn’t you call us sooner, dumbass?” 
“What, you think I wanted to get chased down today?” You meet his attitude with your own irritation and exhaustion. “Why didn’t you get here sooner?”
“Just go somewhere safe, idiot,” he yells, slamming his fist into an attacker’s face. “Your boyfriend’ll be here soon, but we were closer when he messaged everyone!” You don’t have time to think about the idea of Umemiya texting all of Bofurin to descend upon your location.Your glare fades quickly into relief and you step backward as Suo and Kiryu launch themselves into the fight.  Kaji and Hiragi rush in within a minute, and you’re spun to face Umemiya before you register that he’s there. 
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” He searches your face, his anxiety evident. “What did they do to you?”
“I’m okay, I’m okay. They didn’t get me.” Your voice wavers when you try to put weight on your injured ankle, and it panics Umemiya even more. Other Bofurin members enthusiastically join the brawl, but all Umemiya can do is take your hands and scan your body, letting you use him to balance on your good foot. 
“They were chasing you? I knew I should have–” You give him a tired smile and pull his face up to meet your eyes. 
“I didn’t let them catch me. I’m safe, I promise.” He inhales like he’s about to say something, but his attention snaps behind you, his expression hardening in an instant. He slips in front of you like a shield and brings his forearm up to block the hand that was meant to grab you while you were distracted. He throws the attacker to the ground and it lies still, completely unconscious. 
“Hey!” The sound of Umemiya’s voice echoes in the street. The chaos stills, fists suspended in mid air. His eyes that looked so kindly on you darken into shadows, shutting out the sunlight and sending chills down the backs of everyone present. “Not enough to kill…” he orders, securing an arm around your waist and turning you away from the fighting, leaving his underclassmen to finish the job. “But enough.”
You’re a sweating mess and barely able to put weight on your ankle by the time you make it through the doors of Bofurin headquarters. You fall away from his supportive body and your shoulder hits the wall, stars scattering in your vision. Any attempt to drag yourself further, with or without Umemiya’s help, earns you nothing but a hiss and a white-hot flash of pain. Umemiya looks distraught, reaching forward and pulling back with indecisive uncertainty. 
“What do you need me to do? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” he pleads with you. “Please, tell me what you need.” 
“Water,” you croak, your voice hoarse and tired. “I just–I can’t–I can’t walk well–” Your feet leave the ground before you can comprehend that you’re in the air, Umemiya’s arms effortlessly lifting you and beginning the ascent up the school’s stairs. His body is steady and he barely breaks a sweat, stone-cold determination his only expression. Your decreasing heart rate pounds in your forehead and you squint against the light once he climbs to the roof. He sets you gently on a chair in the shade before retrieving a bottle of water, watching as you take a few sips before kneeling in front of you. 
“May I?” You blink, regaining your senses, and realize he’s asking if he can inspect your ankle. You hum, settling into the chair while he carefully rolls up the cuff of your pants. His fingers brushing your bare skin momentarily makes you forget any pain, a shock of lightning shooting up your spine as he swipes his thumb over the front of your ankle. He turns your leg over gently in his hands before deeming it okay. “It’s not swelling, thankfully, so it’s probably just a bad sprain at most.” He exhales, deeply relieved, but continues to run his fingers carefully over the tender area. 
“You couldn’t have predicted they would be there,” you say, his thoughts painted all over his face. 
“I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles, more irritated than you expected. He’s just mad at himself, not at you, you need to remind yourself.  
“You didn’t need to.” Your hand reaches itself out on its own accord, turning his face so you could meet his eyes. “I didn’t get hurt because of you.” 
“But you did get hurt,” he mutters, eyebrows drawn the same way as when he was analyzing the pink symbol a few days prior. The cogs in his brain were turning, you could see, but this time there was a lingering sense of shame. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.”
“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” He shrugs, but you catch the muscle in his jaw relax as his eyes soften. “If that’s not safe, then I don’t know what is.” 
“You’re not angry that I wasn’t there sooner?”
“I’m safest when I’m with you,” you state simply, ��and you found me at just the right moment. So no, of course I’m not angry with you.” Words slip out of Umemiya’s mouth before he’s able to register that they’re leaving, but he has half the mind to change the middle part of the sentence before he comes off as too overbearing. 
“I…care about you, deeply.” You smile, letting him take your hand into his own and press his lips to the inside of your palm. 
— Day 5 of 5: “We could live so happily // If no one knows that you’re with me”
It’s 7:00 am and Umemiya isn’t outside your door. 
You curl up on your bed and stare out the window, the street below milling with its usual morning business. After he dropped you off the previous night with a curt ‘sleep well’ and a reminder to ice your ankle, you were left in an eerily quiet bedroom while you tossed and turned thinking about the day’s events. A ring of the doorbell sends you hobbling down the stairs and throwing open the front door, only to be met with a very pink Sakura, flanked by Suo and Nirei. 
“Don’t go outside today,” Sakura says bluntly. Nirei flinches and Suo’s smile becomes slightly strained, both of them eyeing their class captain warily. 
“What he means,” Suo says before Sakura can say anything else, “is that you don’t need to come study Bofurin today.” Your heart sinks. This must have been because of the day prior. He was really mad that you got yourself hurt, huh? 
“Don’t look so sad about it,” Sakura mutters, his cheeks turning a slightly darker shade of red. “It’s annoying.” You stutter an unexpected apology and suddenly have the urge to hide back in your room until your train the next day. 
“I get it,” you say quietly. “He’s angry with me. Please give him my thanks for the hospitality he’s shown me this week. I’ll be gone by 8:00 tomorrow.” You move to close the door when all three boys practically throw themselves in the way. 
“Wait, that’s not what we meant!” Nirei’s eyes are the size of basketballs. 
“Please don’t listen to anything Sakura is saying; he has a hard time empathizing with others.” Nirei nods enthusiastically in agreement with Suo, slapping a hand over Sakura’s mouth to prevent the boy from speaking. “Really, that’s not what we mean by saying you don’t need to study us anymore.” 
“Umemiya wants you to take the day to rest,” Nirei explains quickly. “He doesn’t think you should be walking to and from the school on your injured ankle.” Your sadness is replaced with indignancy and you cross your arms over your chest. 
“He couldn’t have told me this himself?” 
“He would, but…” Nirei’s voice trails off and you catch Suo biting the inside of his cheek. Sakura’s the first to break the silence, peeling Nirei’s hand from his face. 
“Umemiya and the upperclassmen have been beating the shit out of those hot pink assholes since last night.” 
“It must’ve been pretty serious, since he didn’t even allow Suo or Sakura to go with them,” Nirei adds, “And they’re some of the best fighters in our class.” 
“How long has he been out?” 
“Hiragi said he called them late last night and a small team raided the hot pink team’s base.” That would mean Bofurin raided the base immediately after dropping you off. Why would he hide that from you? “Technically, he said not to tell you because he knew you’d panic,” Sakura continues. “So he sent us to tell you to take it easy. Don’t stab the messengers.”
“It’s ‘don’t shoot the messengers,’ Sakura,” Suo corrects and Sakura shrugs, indifferent. 
“And we’re already as good as dead anyway,” Nirei says, his expression dropping. “We weren’t supposed to tell you that he’s been fighting those guys that hurt you.” 
“It’s Sakura’s fault for yapping–”
“You wanna fight?”
“What’s done is done, little brothers.” You stiffen, blinking against the morning sun as Umemiya trudges into your vision. His handsome face has seen better days, small cuts and bruises littered all over his skin. He tossed his jacket over his shoulder, revealing the dirtied white shirt that wasn’t stained the previous evening. He rolls a broad shoulder and stretches his neck from side to side, his underclassmen scurrying away as he steps onto the welcome mat. “G’morning,” he greets in a tired voice. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Better late than never,” you deadpan, taking his hand and guiding him inside. “Thanks boys,” you call over your shoulder at the sheepish underclassmen. “I’ll take it from here,” you finish before shutting the door. 
“Gotta say, this place looks better when my vision isn’t blurry,” Umemiya jokes with a wince, collapsing into a chair at the dining table. You ignore his attempt at humor, retrieving the first aid kit from the closet along with a rag that you soak with warm water. His eyes are on you as you move about; you feel his gaze burn into the back of your neck. 
“If you weren’t already beaten to a pulp, I’d slap you,” you mumble, sitting across from him and gently patting the dried blood from his face. 
“And I’d let you,” he manages to smile, never taking his attention away from you. You can’t tell if your face is hot from his intense stare or from the anger bubbling in your stomach. Scooting closer, you start work on the cut above his lip, just missing his nose. “You smell nice.” 
“You need to stop talking.” His smile fades only slightly, his eyes ever watchful while you take care of his wounds. You hope he can’t tell how badly your hands are shaking as you tap antibiotic ointment onto his skin and cover it with a bandage. 
“You’re upset with me,” he says carefully, observing the way you’re conveniently avoiding eye contact. 
“You just figured that out?”
“You gonna tell me why, or are you just gonna keep scowling?”
“This is not how you usually do things,” you say through gritted teeth, gesturing to the evidence of fights all over his body. “You’re diplomatic. You’re understanding. You’re empathetic. You don’t…You don’t solve problems like this!” You don’t realize how loud your voice has become until you register the echo from the empty walls, nor do you realize that you were standing until his eyes were looking up at you. 
“How do you know that I don’t do this?”
“Because I watched you this week and I know how you work.” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know why you’d break all of that just because of some hot pink bastards running around your–”
“I did it because of you,” he says. “I did it because they hurt you.”
“You didn’t need to do that, Hajime.” It’s the first time you’d used his first name and something flutters in Umemiya’s stomach. He can’t do anything but stare at you in awe, watching as your emotions start to escape down your face in wet streaks. His body moves on its own, reaching out to wipe your tears to the side and standing so that your chests are nearly touching. His voice is barely a murmur, reserved only for you to hear. 
“You didn’t want me to do it?” Both your hearts are racing, slamming against your rib cages. 
“If it meant you getting hurt like this, then no.”
“I’d put myself through much worse if it meant you were safe,” he whispers. In this proximity, your anger flies out the window, along with your good judgment. He was so close, you could just–
“What else would you do for me?” His eyelashes flutter against yours. 
“Anything.” Umemiya thinks he has a broken rib from how little he can breathe. 
“Show me.” It’s like a rubber band snaps between your bodies as he finally leans down to kiss you, molding himself so that you could perfectly melt against him. His grip on your waist is rock-solid, holding you close enough that you feel him shudder when you scratch against his undercut. The sound you make when he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip makes his head go completely empty, the same feeling happening for you when his fingers graze the spot where your neck meets your chin. He kisses you feverishly, refusing to let you breathe until you’re forced to pull away lest you completely lose consciousness. 
“Do you always kiss the people you write about?” He winks at you and you roll your eyes, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“Only the ones I fall for,” you whisper back. “I’m still mad at you for ditching me this morning, though.” 
“I sent your three favorite underclassmen instead,” he argues but you shake your head, a smile teasing your mouth. “Fine. How can I make it up to you?” You hum thoughtfully, blinking at him in a way that sent Umemiya’s mind into a frenzy. 
“Kiss me again and we’ll call it even.” 
“Whatever you say.” 
— Day [???] of [???]: 
He’s waiting for you when you step off the train, a dazzling smile on his face that grows when he sees the certificate awarded to you with your scholarship funds. A dozen captains dot the platform, diligently watching the back of their leader as he brings down every guard he has and catches you in his arms. After enduring Umemiya talking their ears off, the silence that falls over the area as you bask in each other’s presence is enough of a reason to switch formations, allowing you time alone with the one man who would put himself through hell if it meant you were still his. 
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moralesmilesanhour · 1 year
Note
Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.
I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader
So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.
So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..
Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!
Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.
Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓
"I want my pen back."
wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol
The gel pen clattered to the ground.
“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.
“Thanks.”
Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.
You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.
He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable. 
But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).
Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.
A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.
Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.
You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.
“I like the new braids.”
He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.
“Huh?”
“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”
A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.
“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”
He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring. 
“Bitch, just ask him out already!”
Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.
“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.
A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?” 
She groaned.
“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”
Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.
“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.
Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.
“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”
Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.
“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”
…Oh.
The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.
Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came. 
Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word. 
“You good?” he asked.
You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.
“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”
“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.
Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.
Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.
Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.
“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.
“I want my pen back.”
Miles froze. 
“Which pen?”
You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.
“Oh.”
He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…
…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.
“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”
“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.
Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features. 
“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”
“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”
“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”
You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.
“Wait!”
“I’m waiting.”
“Come see me after school?”
You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.
“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”
He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.
“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”
“...Yeah, kinda.”
“For what?”
You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms. 
“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.
Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”
You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”
“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.
“I don’t?”
Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.
“These? Are cute as fuck,”
He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”
Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.
“So you like getting free stuff.”
“No-! I…”
The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.
“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”
He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.
“...I like you.”
At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.
“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”
The boy’s eyes lit up.
“Where do you wanna go?”
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elleluvsjurin · 3 months
Text
Forever And Always
Kim Minji x single milf!reader
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Synopsis: You’re the CEO of a company so you have to hire an assistant. Kim Minji is the perfect candidate for you. You guys build a connection, she finds out about your son, what happened with his father, and so on.
Warnings: g!p Minji, chubby fem!reader, flirting, reader is 26, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it), mentions of kids/past relationships, death and mentions of abuse, reader calls Minji “pretty girl”
word count: 1.8K
a/n: this does not the depict the idol irl also I wanted to age reader up for the plot
MEN DNI‼️
You’re typing away at your desk when Minji walks in. Since you’re in your headspace, you don’t notice. Minji clears her throat and you look up at her, locking eyes.
“Hello Miss. L/N” She bows and you smile.
“Oh don’t be silly, pretty girl. Call me Y/N.” You reply and you see a pink hue on her cheeks.
“Y-yes Y/N.” She stutters.
“Cute.” You mutter to yourself quietly and she stands there awkwardly, awaiting your response.
“Oh yes! Sorry. I have emailed you the list of drinks that I want you to pick up from the coffee shop down the street. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” You stop typing and look at her.
“Yes ma’am, I will go right away.” She walks out of the room and your eyes follow her, thinking not so innocent thoughts.
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She comes back after an hour, placing the different kinds of drinks on your desk.
“Thank you, pretty girl.” You mention
“You’re welcome.” She looks over at your desk, her eyes landing on a picture of you and a little boy who looks to be your son.
“Yes, he’s my son.” You say as you take notice of her eyeing your desk.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” she bows quickly and you chuckle, cutting her off.
“No need to say sorry, pretty girl. I don’t mind talking about him, I’m sure you were just curious.” You smile and take a sip of your latte. Her nerves calming down at your soft voice.
“Oh uhm- What’s his name?” She asks
“His name is Apollo and he’s 3.” You reply sweetly. She nods her head at your reply.
“Since today’s your first day I don’t really wanna place a huge burden on you but I will have you pick up a few items for me tomorrow and a few other things, mmkay?” You say and she nods her head.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Go home, I’ll see you tomorrow pretty girl.”
“I’ll see you as well Miss. Y/N.” Minji walks out of the room.
The next day rolls over and Minji arrives fairly early, earlier than you.
“Good morning pretty, you look cute today.” You say, eyeing her up and down while you unlock the door to your office. Minji is wearing a black skirt with a white blouse. You’re wearing a red body con dress with black stilettos.
“Thank you, Miss. You look very pretty as well.” She says nervously. You eventually open the door, walking in first with Minji trailing behind you, trying not to look down at your ass. You place your things down on your desk and sit in your chair.
“I’m going to hand you the keys to my car and I want you to pick up a bag that I ordered from the mall. Later, I’m gonna have you pick up Apollo from daycare. I already called the place and told them that you will be picking him up. But be careful, he’s a runner so you may have to hold him. I’ll give you extra for it. Understand, pretty?” You say politely
She nods her head in agreement but that’s not enough for you.
“Words. I need to hear your words, Minji.” You say sternly
“Y-yes Miss.Y/N.” She stutters
“Good girl.” You turn on your computer and hand her your keys so she can do the tasks that you’ve sent her. Minji is on her way to do her work that you assigned.
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The day comes and goes very quickly. You’re locking up for the day before you hear Apollo call your name.
“Mama!” Apollo exclaims in Minji’s arms. You grab him and kiss his puffy cheeks.
“Hello my love. How was he, Minj?” You ask as you ruffle his hair
“He did really well. Not too bad.” She blushes at the profound nickname.
“Ok. Thank you for picking him up. Do you need a ride?” You ask, concerned
“Uh if you don’t mind?” She says softly
“Of course I don’t mind. Let’s get going, yeah?”
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6 months pass since it’s been Minji’s first day. She’s been nothing but really helpful. She even watches Apollo from time to time, which you pay her extra for. She has really grown to enjoy hanging out with your little “family” and by family she means you and Apollo. She recently found out that Apollo’s dad was really abusive before you got pregnant and that he died in a car crash just before Apollo turned one. You, yourself has loved Minji since you laid eyes on her, even if you were thinking about getting in her pants. But now you and Minji hang out almost every weekend. You go out, go to your place to watch movies, and she spends the night sometimes. Like tonight, Apollo went with his grandparents so you and Minji can have a little “sleepover” in your bedroom.
“You know…you look so edible right now.” You slowly trail your hand up her thigh but you feel something hard poking your hand and you look down at her crotch
“Y-Y/N, I-…” She trails off
“Kim Minji, do you have a dick?” You laugh
“N-No….yes. I understand if you’re not interested in me anymore…” She says, defeated
“It’s ok baby, let me take care of you.” You say, getting on your knees in front of her as she looks down at you, awkwardly.
“Uhm..are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” She says quietly
“I want to. Relax, pretty girl.” She lifts her bottom up as you pull her pajamas pants down, leaving her in her boxers. You also pull off her boxers and grab ahold of her cock, staring at it.
“Y-Y/N? please.” She begs silently and you begin to softly kiss her pink tip.
“Hmm so quiet and cute but your cock makes up for it.” You slowly take her cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down as she whimpers. She runs her fingers through your hair as you throat her cock.
“F-fuck…yes.” Minji throws her head back while you work your mouth on her cock.
“God Y/N, please don’t stop.” She whimpers. You continue to bob your head up and down as she thrusts in your mouth. Her tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. At this point, the movie is background noise for you two as you continue your sinful act.
“a-ah fuck, im gonna cum!” she squeaks out, you two lock eyes together as her cock pulses in your mouth before she shoots her load into your throat. You swallow her entire load and you wipe the remnants off of the side of your mouth.
“Wow pretty girl.” You say and her cheeks turn beet red.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cum in your mouth..it just felt so good a-and I wanna do you now. May I?” She hurriedly says and you laugh at her flustered expression.
“Of course you can. Show me what you got.” You stand in front of Minji on your bed, taking off your nightgown for her. She stands up, slightly towering over you and she softly pushes you on the bed. You instantly spread your legs for the girl and her mouth waters. She starts by separating your pussy lips with two of her fingers and attaches her mouth to clit, sucking on it. Your hands find their way to her hair, slightly tugging on it as you moan.
“s-shit..” you trail off and roll your eyes to the back of your head and she starts by thrusting two fingers inside of your cunt. Going faster with each of your moans.
“oh my goodness….please minj~.” you beg, your moans giving her the motivation to thrust her fingers faster inside of you. Your moans start to staccato and you clench around her fingers, indicating that you’re about to cum. Minji looks up at you.
“Cum for me, Y/N.” You clench one last time and squirt all over Minji’s fingers.
“Fucking shit, Minji.” She pulls her fingers out of your cunt and slowly sucks on both of them.
“You taste amazing but I bet you feel even better.” She flips you over, placing you face down and ass up as she takes off her shirt and bra.
“Gosh Minj, you’re so rough.” You look back at her to see her placing her tip up to your entrance. She grabs your hair and pulls it back to where you’re looking at her.
“You’ve been trying to fuck me since day one. This isn’t what you want, no?” She completely slides into you and you whimper out.
“P-please I want it.” She bottoms out inside of you, gripping onto your hips, and she harshly thrusts inside of your cunt, making you squeak. She chuckles at your submissive state.
“How does it feel being pushed around now, hmm? You’re up under me now, Y/N. Do you understand me?” Minji taunts as she continues to abuse your pussy with her cock.
“Yes. Yes! I understand-..please just don’t stop.” You roll your eyes to back of your head when Minji smacks your ass, she bends down, her lips touching your ear
“Maybe I should knock you up for proof, hmm! How do you feel about that, Y/N? You’ll be mine forever and always.” She grunts when your ass comes into contact with her pelvis as she thrusts deep into your cunt.
“Fuck! I don’t care just keep on fucking me.” You scream out, her cock digging deep into your pussy.
“Gosh Y/N, I’m gonna cum. Let me cum inside?” She asks and you nod your head fast.
“Yes baby, cum in me.” Minji whimpers, her pace picking up and slowing down when she cums inside of you. Her orgasm trigger yours and you squirt all over her cock. Minji slowly pulls out of your swollen cunt, her dripping out of you and onto the bed.
“Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Minji goes back to her soft state.
“No, you didn’t hurt me. I just haven’t been sexually active in a long time, but I’m perfectly fine. It was amazing.” You reply and her cheeks turn a hue of pink. She goes over to kiss your lips and you melt into her.
“I-I really like you, Y/N..will you please give me a chance?” She hugs the side of your body and you think for a moment. She shyly looks away before you give an answer.
“Yes, I will give you a chance but at work we will have to keep it professional, mmkay pretty girl?” You reply and she nods her head.
“Of course. I can’t believe I finally get to call you my girlfriend!” She exclaims excitedly and you smile at her.
“Gosh. You’re so cute, pretty girl.” Minji blushes at your statement. You pull her into a kiss and she whimpers.
“S-sorry.” You chuckle at her
“Cute.” You guys end up cleaning up and you chill out by watching a movie for the rest of the night. Minji holds you and thinks of all the things she plans on doing with you and Apollo. You fall asleep in her arms and she kisses your forehead.
“Forever and always.” She mumbles…
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get0sfav · 10 months
Text
MEANIE! | ryomen s.
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↳ ryomen sukuna x f!reader
assigned to be the resident bad boy's lab partner who also happens to be your friend's twin brother? so cliche! loosing your virginity to him? even more cliche! ugh!
18+ Minors DNI!
warnings; university au, mean!sukuna, virgin!shy!reader, sukuna is yuji's twin brother, superr cliche, ooc sukuna, cussing, teasing, dub-con/ish, pet names (good girl, brat, doll, etc.), name-calling (slut, whore, fucktoy), degradation, fingering, ass spanking, biting, nipple play, slight groping, mentions of f!masturbation, size difference, doggy style, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (sukuna convinces reader to let him hit raw😔🤚🏼), multiple orgasms (2), choking, creampie, breeding kink, yuji catches the two of you🤓, not proofread.
wc; 2.7k
a/n; writing this made me realise how I was not built for this shit p.s this is so horrible but I had to post it because it was supposed to be up yesterday but eh, anyways, I promise the next fic would be a lot better thank you for reading. also lmk if anyone wants to be tagged in these fics !
tags(?); @satocidal <3
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A familiar set of pink hair caught your sight, and if you didn't know better, you'd assume it was Yuji. But it wasn't, because you weren't in the cafeteria, waiting for him on a bench, but rather in a class he didn't take. No, It was his brother- Ryomen Sukuna. They looked identical for the most part, except, they often didn't. Where Yuji had a soft face, adored with the biggest smile ever, his brother had a sharp, ink clad face with an ever present scowl on it.
Luck of course wasn't on your side when you got assigned as his partner. Yuji wasn't happy either, because no way in hell would he want you, one of his best friends to be anywhere near his brother. Not like you had a say in any of this, but this project was worth about 40 percent of your grade, and you needed to get an A+ on this one. Your last project went horribly because of your last partner, and you weren't about to let another lazy, or rather intimidating partner let you drag your grades down once again.
Sukuna was sat beside you, occupying nearly 2 whole seats with the way he was spreading his legs. He seemed the least bothered about what the professor was saying, didn't bother to make notes or anything. That automatically meant that you were going to take notes for the both of you.
Great.
Chewing at your pen while the lecture hall filled with low chatter of people talking to their partners, discussing whatever topic they were assigned, on contrary to you and your partner, who was still the least bothered about anything.
Building up the courage to finally talk to him, you turn around to face him, but your attempt to speak up was cut off by his intimidating glare, "You're gonna do all the work, I'll pay you- or whatever. I don't got no time for this shit." He scowled, looking back towards his phone. "I- but-" The words died down in your throat with another look from him.
The class was dismissed soon enough, as he threw his bag over his shoulder, giving you a look that you couldn't quite understand, "Well?" He raised a brow, the way he stared down at you from his height was quite intimidating. And when he put one foot forward, his gaze only became more imposing.
"C'mon, speak up."
"Well-" You took a deep breath, trying to sound a little brave while speaking "Well, what I meant to say is that I can't complete the project by myself- it's way too big, and it's worth like 40 percent of our grade."
"Then I guess you'll fail" He chuckled, bringing his phone out and ignoring whatever else you had to add onto the matter. He did not want to be bothered. He turned to face you, the most threatening thing you could think of was now looking at you, and he had no intentions of moving. It was quite the sight.
You simply backed down, almost shriveling into the little bubble you came out from. Well that was a shit show. No wonder his brother didn't like him. Hell, moments like these made you wonder how the hell him and Yuji are related, moreover, twin brothers.
"What do you expect me to do? Babysit you? You know how to write, how to research, I'm sure you can figure it out." Sukuna grumbled, before returning his eyes to the screen of his phone. He clearly didn't want to be bothered, but he also didn't want to give the dean another reason to get on his ass, so he'd maintain the conversation. For now, atleast.
"I wouldn't have bothered you if I could do it alone-" You stated, chewing on your fingernails "It requires two people, and I don't think I count as two so." The words simply spurted out of your mouth, and you had no idea where you got the confidence to even speak like that in the first place. Maybe it was because you had already decided that it was A+ or nothing, and there was absolutely no way anyone was going to stand between you and your grade.
"Oh? And why can't you do it alone?" Sukuna asked, finally turning his gaze from his phone up to you.
His gaze was almost threatening, as if he was sizing you up. Which he was. After a moment of silence, and a slight shake of his head, "Fine." He said, turning on his heel and walking away. He did not, however, wait for you to follow, even though the way he ended the conversation implied that he wanted you to follow him.
"Oh-" Was it really that easy? Or was there a catch to his agreement. Whatever it was, you were sure you could handle it, but as for now, you quickly stuffed your things in your bag, rushing after him.
"And one more thing" He called over his shoulder, still continuing to walk. His voice sounded stern, unamused. It didn't have the same warmth and softness to it that Yuji had. Sukuna sounded cold, threatening and had a slight edge to it.
"We're not partners. Don't talk to me more than you need to."
"Okay" It wasn't as if you wanted to talk to him either, but it wasn't a big deal to affirm what he had said. "Well? Should we go to the library or somewhere else?" You asked awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt.
"I do whatever I want, and you're coming with. We're going to study at my place." Sukuna did not go to the library to study- hell, he didn't even study, and definitely not in a pair. He didn't even acknowledge you until you spoke, but you would have to follow anyway. He turned to walk, expecting you to fall in line.
"Alright..." You spoke under your breath, following him back to his house. You had been there a couple of times when you hung out with Yuji, Megumi and Nobara, but you had never seen Sukuna around at that time, and you had a slight hint that most of the times he was out partying, or getting wasted one way or the other.
Atleast that's what Yuji had told you.
His and Yuji's apartment was close to the campus, and that's where you two went. He crept inside the house, removing his shoes at the door and you did the same. The same cold voice spoke once again, and you were left with no choice but to follow him to his room.
The lights were off, and the place was lit by a window that let the sun shine inside.
"You can sit on the bed." Not bothering to say anything else, he threw his bag on the floor, choosing to sit on his desk and working on his PC. Surprisingly, he actually knew what the topic was, and had already collected some material regarding it.
"kay" You nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed as you placed down your bag beside you, taking out your own laptop to work.
The two of you worked in silence, the only sound echoing in the room was the typing sounds of keys, or the occasional sigh that escaped his lips.
He continued, rolling his neck to ease up some tension, he seemed to work in silence, only calling your name when he needed something from you.
After a couple of hours, Sukuna pushed his chair back, stretching his arms out. He had finally finished and it was, rather impressive. Sukuna's writing skills were, to say the least, superb.
"Are you nearly done yet?" He stood up from his chair, walking to stand beside you, leaning down a little to see what you were doing on your screen.
"Yeah, I'm almost done. Could you just mail me everything you've written? I'll compile it and print it out and maybe tomorrow we can work on actually doing the project practically, since we're almost done with the theoretical part?" You spoke in a soft tone, looking at him, waiting for his response.
*He stared back down at you, for about a whole minute, his gaze was almost intimidating. "Check your email." He sighed, standing back straight to stretch his arms once more. You nodded, checking your email just as he asked, only to find the work you needed already there in your inbox. Wasn't he efficient.
"Oh, well, thanks. I think we're done for the day, right? I guess we'll meet tomorrow then?" You acknowledged, before packing up your stuff in your bag, giving him a curt nod, a way of saying 'thank you.' He simply gave you a quick look, probably his way of telling that he heard you. With that, you darted out of his room and towards the font door, without sparing another glance towards him.
As you exited his apartment, you realised that you may or may not have left your phone on his bed. Dreading to face his gaze once more, you needed your phone to get home, so, with sweaty palms, you knock on his door once, waiting for him to open it. The door flew open, with Sukuna's annoyed expression, eyebrows crossed in annoyance, "What the hell do you want now brat?"
"I- I think I left my phone inside." You gulped, and he simply lets out a grunt of annoyance, opening the door just enough for you to slip in, which you do quickly, rushing to his room where you previously sat to find your phone. Luckily, it was easily spotted, kept on the nightstand. You quickly pick it up and pocket it, turning around to find him leaning on the door frame with the same cruel eyes of his.
Refusing to make eye contact with him, you try to swiftly exit the room, but fate had other plans for you. Tripping on whatever invisible obstacle that was placed in your path, you fall. On Sukuna.
A yelp escapes your mouth, thankfully, his reflexes were quick, but not quick enough, causing the two of you to fall on the floor, him taking the most of the collison. You're way to afraid to even open your eyes, because you knew you'd be met with the most deathly glare from the man beneath you. What makes things even worse, you were basically stradling his lap, hands on his chest, and let's not forget- his hands, on your ass. Your cheeks turn crimson at the realisation, as you squeezed you eyes shut, hoping that maybe, somehow a strike of thunder would evaporate you from the world.
You're frozen in place, not being able to do anything as you await the meanest string of cusses ever heard, probably even a shove too, but no. What you hear is much, much scarier. A chuckle. A chuckle from the Ryomen Sukuna. "What's got you blushing like a 'fuckin virgin eh?" His chuckle resonated in the silent room, making heat creep up your entire body. You weren't sure whether it was from embarassment or something entirely different.
"Aw, you like my hands on your ass brat?" He teased further, slightly squeezing your ass in between his hands, eliciting a gasp from your lips, your eyes flowing open, only to see a smug smirl on his face. You were sure at this point, your entire face was red, and maybe, just maybe he was right. You just might like his hands on your ass.
Seeing your reaction, he pushes you so you were properly stradling his lap now, squeezing your ass once more, this time a little harder. "Let me guess- y're a virgin?" He concluded, from the looks you were giving. Was it really that obvious? Well, there's no point in lying anyway. You nod slowly, as he barks out a laugh, causing you to flinch a little, "Fuckin hell," He shook his head, the smirk still on his face, "Your cunt must be fucking tight, hm?"
His words made you shudder, and god you'd be lying if you said his words didn't give you the tingling feeling in your lower stomach. "Hah. Tell me this then, what would happen if i did," He gripped your ass tightly, and without putting in any effort, he lifted you up along with himself, causing you to mewl. Your legs were now hanging beside him, his hands still on your ass as he walked and thre you on his bed, quite a bit violently for your liking.
"W-What are you trying to do?" Your voice came out meekly, but he simply chuckled once more. "let's say; if i were to do, this," He moved closer to you, his hands gripping at your waist, pulling you closer to him, slowly snaking his hands under your shirt, his cold hands feeling electrical on your bare skin as you bit back a hiss, "And then, this," His hands were moving up and down your waist, inching closer and closer to the hem of your bra, "Do you like this?" He smirked, now enveloping his finger around your waist, pulling you in a way that you were laying on you back, with him on top of you.
Fuck him and his annoying, good looking, smug face. You never found him to be even remotely attractive before, so why were you dripping in your panties then? Was it your touch-deprived brain feel so turned on from finally being touched by someone else other than your own fingers? Probably.
Almost like he could read your mind, his skilled fingers traveled to the hem of your pants, raising his eyebrows, his way of asking if you wanted it. Not a single word came out of your mouth, breath hitching in your throat. You weren't sure yourself, whether you wanted this or not, but he took your silence as approval, pulling down your pants in an instant, followed by the removal of your shirt as well. It all happened so quickly that there was no time to process it, before his tongue was inside your mouth, while his hands roamed around your underwear clad body. You moaned softly in the kiss, his experienced lips guiding your own, his tongue exploring your mouth. Messy, sloppy and rough. He didn't stop kissing you, wanting to go on forever.
He breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips and the sight makes the sensation in your lower stomach even stronger, feeling yourself growing wetter and wetter every moment.
You want to say something, anything at all, but you trail off, your throat feeling dry when his fingers tease along the line of your jaw, down to your chin. Tipping it up, he leans in and leaves a warm kiss on your throat, trailing lower, lower and lower until he reaches the valley of your breasts, fingers travelling to your back to unclasp the hook of the bra, throwing it away somewhere along the rest of your clothes. He bites down on the sensitive skin just about your left nipple, before lapping it with his tongue. His free hand plays with your other nipple pinching and pulling at it.
Each and every action he does causes a new sound to erupt from deep within you, the way you responded made him go wild. There was just something about virgins that made him lose his mind. The way they responded from just the slightest touch- or how wet their cunts get from just kissing. But he'd have to admit, you were his favorite by far. It wasn't just you that responded to him, it was your whole body, wanting more and more from him. He loved it.
His fingers brush over your clothed folds before he cups your mound. Grinding the heel of his palm against you gently, you roll your hips up into his touch, rubbing against his hand, "God.. Do you feel that doll, feel how soaked you are? getting my hand wet by just rubbing it over your pantie, tch, I bet you'd stain my sheets from just how wet this little pussy is." Closing your eyes shut at his words, you feel yourself leaning more and more into his touch, wanting nothing more than for him to touch you, directly.
Eager pants leave you when his fingers teasingly dip between your folds through the thin material of your panties. The fabric is damp already and as he teases you with touches that are entirely too gentle for your rising desperation, you find yourself whining under his cruel touch. He simply chuckles, "tch, now, now, it's not nice to get all eager, you should be thankful to me." His actions get more cruel, as he does nothing but play with your folds from over the fabric.
Satisfied with how you’re whining underneath him, he slides his fingers to the hem of your panties, pulling them down with a snap against your skin, retreating to keep them in the drawer of his bedside stand. The air hits your wet cunt, causing you to shiver, as you push yourself on your elbows, watching him look at your cunt with greedy eyes. Spreading your legs further apart, two of his fingers dip into your hole and he is pleased to find it welcoming him into your tight heat. A loud moan slips past your lips, as you feel his fingers dip inside you.
This was way better than any time when you had touched yourself on your own, his two fingers stretching you out better than anything. The length of his fingers caused you to jerk, feeling the slightest bit of pain from how long and thick they were, small tears forming in the corner of your eyes "Shitttt look at you" He grunts, and you look up at him, only to see him palming the tent in his pants, "You're nearly crying from my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock doll?" He chuckles cruelly, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you.
Your walls pulse around him and you arch your body into him when he curls the digits up and rubs exploratively within your pussy, trying to find the spot that makes you see stars.
He's too rough, adding a third finger and pushes all three of them into you down to the knuckle. This tears a gasp from your throat and you buck your hips up into his touch, over and over again, as you feel the strength leave your legs. You were seeing stars now, eyes closed shut, gasps and moans leaving your mouth. He loved the sight, continuing his pace, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter.
"Su-Sukuna, 'm gonna cum-!" Your fingers grip the sheets beside you, your entire body shaking from the intensity and quickness of his fingers, moaning his name over and over again, "Good girl, good fucking girl, cum for me" He smirks, adding his thumb to rub circles on your clit, a yelp flies from your mouth as you're a sweaty mess under his touch. With a few more pumps from his fingers, you're yelling out his name, knuckles white from how hard you had been gripping the sheets as he guides you through your high, the intense wave of pleasure hitting hard, head hitting the plush mattress as your arms give out, and everything seemed a little dizzy around you.
He retreats his fingers, causing your cunt to clench around nothing. You hear him zipping down his pants, chuckling dryly. "Cmon slut, I ain't done with you yet." His hands grab at your waist, flipping you over so that your head was pressed against the mattress, and your ass was facing him. Huffing, you turn around to see him, eyes widening when you're met with the sight of his cock instead.
It was long, not too long but longer than the average one you saw in porn. He was girthy too, multiple veins running down to the tip of dick. The tip was flushed red, leaking with pre-cum, his hand grabbing the base of it. What caught your eye was that the tattoos that decorated his entire body ended just where his dick started.
"Aren't you going to use a- a condom?" You objected, slightly biting your lip. He simply scoffs, "Trust me, you don't want to use a condom for your first time doll, it's just more painful." He shrugs, his finger collecting the pre cum from his tip before pumping his hand up and down on his entire length. He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and a slight pout, "If you're that worried I'll buy you morning after pills alright?" He sighs, before aligning the tip of his cock with your already sensitive cunt, causing you to shiver.
One of his hands holds your waist, while the other grips your ass, slapping it twice and kneading the soft flesh, before he starts pushing more and more of his dick inside you, grunting every time your walls pulse around him.
You're holding back tears from how painful it was feeling, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw some blood. He notices how tense you are, massaging the small of your back, "Relax, it's going to be worse if you're tensed up, brat." His grip tightened against your hip, and just when he was almost inside you, he bottomed out, pulling your hips to meet his torso, eliciting a loud cry from you, and a drawled out grunt from him.
*"Fuck you're so tight" He moans, throwing his head back, giving you a moment to adjust to his length, tears spilling from your eyes. Carefully, he starts moving. You lean your head back, your jaw dropping open and a moan leaving your throat. The way his cock stretches your walls out, pain and pleasure are mixed together, "'s to big sukuna!" He ignores your cries, gripping tightly against your hit as he starts to pick up his pace, the pain slowly turning into a pleasurable feeling.
He pulls back totally, leaving only the tip inside your cunt before ramming inside. You cry out with pleasure, clenching your walls around his cock as he thrusts in and out of your pussy with no mercy. His hand which was previously gripping your waist grabs your left tit, groping and pawing at it, pinching the nipple over and over again. The bed shakes underneath you and sounds of skin slapping against each other resonate in the room. The scene was so lewd, your pussy making squelching sounds every time he thrusts a little harder, hitting the sweet spot within you.
Every so often the squelching nosies of your pussy can be heard as Sukuna thrusts his cock inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth gaping open as loud moans and whimpers leave your throat. He was too rough, too rough to be your first time, but there was this thrill you got every time he bullied past your walls, hitting deep inside you.
He grunts, his fingers trailing up your back and to the nape of your neck, before he grips it hard, pulling you back so that your back was against his chest. His hand now held your throat from the front, and the new angle made you feel that he was inside your stomach, thrusting harder and harder.
Sukuna watches as his cock slides in and out of you, filling you up with pleasure. Sinful whimpers and cries leave your throat, strained from the hand wrapped around your throat. He could get used to the scene, watching how your tits bounced up and down with every mean thrust of his, how your hands desperately tried to find something to grab a hold of. Oh how he loved this.
You moan, feeling your mind shut from the pleasure, and how strongly the feeling of pleasure was creeping up. You were going to come again, "Sukuna ah- ah shit! I'm- I'm gonna come!"
"Not yet" He grunts, breath fanning over your ear as his thrusts become sloppier, "Not yet" his words are drawled out, "Gonna fill you up, yeah, take it like the good whore you are mhm?" He whispers, licking your ear and nearly sending you over the edge, "Sukuna pl-please! I-I need to-" "Shit- fuck, cum on my dick then" You felt hot, sticky ropes of his cum filling you up, as he thrusts once more, feeling everything empty out in you.
It's a lot, oozing out from your sore, abused cunt. The two of you pant heavily, His fingertips give your throat a light squeeze as he starts to roll his hips back, and you drop to the mattress, feeling more than euphoric, stars, moons, the entire universe clouding your thoughts. You were on cloud 9, even though your core was still shaking, even if he had fucked his cum deep inside you. It didn't matter, it was all too ecstatic, the daze you felt better than any high anyone could have ever experienced. You heard him chuckle, feeling his hands press on your worn out and shaky thighs, almost as if massaging the sore muscles.
It's bad to set expectations from him though, because all he did was use his thumb to collect his cum that leaked out of your hole to your thighs, pushing it all back inside. Giving your ass one last slap he stood up, and got dressed in just his sweatpants, and just then, you heard your name being called.
Your eyes widen as you realise who it was, turning around to see Yuji standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and an expression of disgust on his face.
"Get out you measly brat" Sukuna groaned, pushing his hair back before slamming the door in poor Yuji's face.
This just got a lot awkward, didn't it?
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thatfandomslut · 7 months
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Regina's Ending
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Regina's part two ending to It's a Competition.
Word Count: 1k
Trigger Warnings: sad Janis, descriptive make out session
It wasn't Cady's information to share, but there she was in the English class that she shared with (Y/n), knee bouncing as she tried to keep herself from spilling Janis and Regina's secret. Their mutual crush on one of Cady's close friends had been eating her alive, and she had found herself in the middle of it somehow. She was dying to know who (Y/n) shared affections for. (Y/n) looked at her with a worried smile as she patted her arm gently. "Cady, what's wrong?" She inquired, examining her friend's tell-tell signs that she was holding in a secret.
Cady glanced over with her lips pursed as she squinted softly at (Y/n), and (Y/n) watched perplexed at how focused she got all of a sudden. "Do you have a crush on anyone at school?" She questioned, her soft blue eyes trying to search (Y/n)'s emotions. (Y/n)'s eyes went wide at Cady's question and she stared at the girl for a few long questions. "I'm sorry, that's personal, isn't it?" Cady sighed, resting her hand on her cheek, and tried to refocus her attention on the writing assignment they had to complete. But this was proving to be hard.
(Y/n) swallowed thickly as she tapped her pen gently on her paper. For a brief moment, she considered the pros and cons of telling Cady before deciding it would be okay to let her know. "I do, yeah," She said, causing Cady to turn to her so fast that (Y/n) was sure that she received whiplash. "I kind of have a thing for Regina. That's ridiculous though, right? Me having a crush on Regina George? I should lower my standards." (Y/n) chuckled bitterly, scribbling down a couple sentences for the assignment. She had never felt confident enough to share this information with anyone.
Cady looked over at (Y/n) sympathetically, as she had never shown signs of being self-conscious before. "I don't know, (Y/n). I think you would be surprised. Regina can be very kind, but even more so to you." Cady said, causing (Y/n) to eye her suspiciously. This caused Cady to glance away and clear her throat. "All I'm saying is maybe you do have a shot. You just have to give yourself the benefit of the doubt. You're very kind, caring, and pretty. Regina would be lucky to have someone like you as her girlfriend." Cady explained causing (Y/n) to nod a bit in understanding. After all, maybe Cady was right. She should give herself more of a chance to explore her crushes before putting herself down.
"Thanks, Cady," (Y/n) looked away from Cady, a small smile adorning her face. There was a part of Cady that felt bad that Janis wouldn't have a chance with (Y/n), but she was happy for (Y/n). Regina was going to be pleased when she found out, too. Or, when she asked (Y/n) to Spring Fling. Cady wasn't going to be the one who told Regina about (Y/n)'s feelings. It wasn't her place. That's why she didn't tell Cady about Regina's, either. She was, however; going to have to tell Janis so she stopped the competition. "You're a great friend. I really appreciate you."
Cady beamed at the compliment before starting back on her writing prompt. After school, she let Janis know that (Y/n) wasn't into her that way. Of course, Janis was upset, but she inevitably wanted (Y/n) to be happy, so she set aside her feelings as Damian and Cady comforted her with ice cream and scary movies.
(Y/n), on the other hand, was standing in front of Regina's door with a determined look in her eyes as she knocked on the door. When Regina's mom answered, she automatically sent her to Regina's room where Regina was working out the plans on her Spring Fling-posal. "(Y/n)? What are you doing here?" Regina questioned, standing up as she eyed the pink carnations in (Y/n)'s hands. Her eyes then met (Y/n)'s again, and the surprise left her eyes slowly, softening her features. "What are the flowers for?" It was a stupid question, but her head felt so foggy with the implication that this was real, she needed confirmation.
"They're for you," (Y/n) held them out, bracing herself for rejection. Regina paused for a moment before a smile tugged at her lips. She took the flowers before placing them on her dresser before turning to pull (Y/n) close. (Y/n)'s face turned a deep shade of red as Regina pressed a kiss onto her lips. Momentarily in shock, (Y/n)'s brows shot up before she slowly relaxed into the kiss, kissing back. Regina smiled against (Y/n)'s lips as they chased each other, Regina's tongue running along (Y/n)'s bottom lip, wanting for her to let her in. (Y/n) gave in easily and allowed Regina to have the dominance in the kiss. (Y/n) almost forgot she needed to breathe as Regina pulled away to catch her breath. "Woah."
Regina smiled at the word that left (Y/n)'s lips. "You should know I was ordering balloons and flowers so I can ask you to Spring Fling when we got back to my house after shopping Saturday," Regina spoke, trying to hide the fact that she was just as flustered. (Y/n) had to hold back the smirk threatening to tug at her lips over the fact Regina was a bit flustered.
"You don't have to do that, Regina." She reasoned as she kissed Regina's cheeks. Neither of them had dared move away from each other after their shared kiss. It was almost as if they were both scared that if they did, they would disappear and this would all be a dream. So, they stood there with Regina's hands around (Y/n)'s shoulders and (Y/n)'s hands hanging loosely on the back of Regina's neck.
Regina smiled down at (Y/n) as she began to smirk slowly her tongue resting on the top of her teeth as her lips parted softly. "Well, we can't disappoint Gretchen and Karen who want to have a part in this, can we?" She semi-joked, causing (Y/n) to laugh as she shook her head. Regina pulled (Y/n) in again, allowing them to kiss once more. Only this time, they knew it was real, they just didn't want to pull away anytime soon.
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savorypink · 6 months
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focus!
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you are everything. he's just alex.
smut.
"You said I'd get an A. What is this?"
You toss the paper in his direction as if it's contaminated. The B minus scribbled in the corner of your paper marks the beginning of the plague of imperfection threatening to riddle your body. If you held it any longer, your fingertips would've turned black. Alex merely stands there, but his heart begs to jump out of his chest.
"Well, uh," He stammers, admittedly cutely. "I had other papers to finish, and you asked me to do yours while I was busy..."
Your lips curl into a pout, and Alex feels his jeans tighten. "So, I'm not a priority?"
"No, no, no! It's not like that!" His voice is drenched in panic while yours remains coated in molasses. "I just...had things to do, y'know?"
"Important things? More important than me?"
You bat your lashes this time, and his knees turn to pudding. "Never! No!"
Opening your laptop, you ignore his reddening features and click on your e-mail. "Here's what's going to happen: I'm going to ask for a rewrite, and you're gonna write me a brand new paper—one that'll get me an A. Understand?"
He nods frantically, but you don't see with your head buried in your computer. "Verbal confirmation, please." You reiterate. 
"Whatever you say."
You peer from your laptop to smile at him, sweet and warm as spring. "You're the best, Aly."
Alex granted every wish you pleaded for whenever you waved a manicured finger. Your friends had been kind enough to direct you to him at a campus party. Timid and reeking of cigarettes, he fumbled with his flirting as he tried to keep his eyes off your chest. Your gaze proved too intense for him, and it wasn't like you were listening anyway. You gathered that Alex majors in monkeys and is in a band called Literature. Something tells you that you've mixed those two things up, but as long as he agreed to do your work, it didn't matter what he did on the side—or what he did at all. You ruled the pristine hallways of your university while he meekly sniffed the breeze in your wake. You've given more attention to the gum underneath your shoes.
It plucks your nerves when you realise he's still standing there, but you open your Myspace and begin scrolling. "You can go now. You have a paper to write."
Your brutal, icy shoulder only makes him eager to restore your warmth, but Alex isn't partial to a little bit of snow, and you could be a blizzard at times. "Well, I did write your paper, and um—"
"And what?" Your fuse is as short as your skirt.
His shaky fingers fiddle with the white sleeves of his hoodie, nausea and lust churning and warming his stomach. "You still haven't paid me. And there's the paper before that..."
And the one before that, too. You haven't been holding your end of the bargain, and the poor boy is within his right to complain. But, oh, you're just so busy! Sports, school, getting your nails done—okay, you may have told a tale or two to get out of doing your assignments, but what did he think making a deal with you would entail? If anything, he should be thankful for the attention. You don't have time to waste on boys.
Closing your laptop, you rise from your desk. As you take two steps forward, Alex takes two timid steps backwards until you've backed him into your bed.
"But Aly," you whine as you straddle him, "I told you I was busy that day! And I don't pay you to write papers that don't get me an A. In fact, I think you've been slacking."
Alex begins fisting the pink bed sheets in abundance, the sweet scent of your cotton candy perfume inescapable and dizzying. "No! 's not true!"
You pout with faux sympathy as your fingers work on unbuckling his belt. "Yes, it is! I'm worried about you, actually..." You cup his chin and turn his head to examine the acne along his jawline. "You're breaking out like crazy! Stress causes pimples, you know!" You exclaim. 
Your touches, while minimal and featherlight, nearly make him cream his pants. His large Bambi eyes look up at you in spectacle and guidance as you pull him out of his jeans, the leaky tip of his cock barely grazing the silk of your panties.
"My poor Aly, you're stressed 'cause you're not focused!" You pull your panties to the side before sinking onto him. Your hand clamps over his mouth before he can let out a pathetic, low groan. "You gotta stop worrying about everything and focus on me!"
"Y-yeah? You think?" His body melts into the sheets as your core swallows him whole, his eyes painfully rolling behind his skull. "Fuck, you're so tight..."
You take his lifeless hands and guide them under your skirt. His clammy palms restore to life to squeeze the supple flesh of your ass while his hips needily buck into you, a plea for movement on your end. Since you're feeling generous, you peel off your shirt and toss your bra to the side. Part of your deal was that he only saw you naked when your grades were above average. You begin with small, courteous bunny hops on his dick, and Alex is already mewling, his nails digging deliciously painfully into your skin. You hiss, and you remove his hands from your ass and place them on your chest, bouncing on him harsher and faster.
"You're not even looking at me! It's like you don't even care!" Your frown is prominent in your words, and you know he'll light himself on fire if it means you'd never have to cry. His eyes creak open, albeit slowly. The sun outside your window casts warm rays onto your form, your skin and hair shimmering brightly without effort, evidently celestial. The only thing you need is a halo.
"Huh?" His tone is reminiscent of how he stares at you, love-drunk and in a blissful, rose-coloured haze. Your bouncing slows, and Alex quickly throws a fit, languidly and whiny, squeezing your breasts needily. Your core tightens its embrace around him, your slick dribbling hot and slippery down his weeping cock. The bed creaks as you dip to his eye level, the bubblegum flavour of your lipgloss mere kisses away as your lips ghost over his trembling mouth.  
"See? You don't even listen!" You wail as you glide your pulsating walls up and down his cock at a snail's pace. "I've been so kind and sweet to you, and you can't even get me an A. I thought you liked me. I thought you'd be good for me."
His grubby paws claw and clutch at your skirt while his legs kick wildly at nothing. The movements rumble your bed, and your meticulously positioned stuffed animals fall to their sides. Your name spills from his mouth like a broken faucet, and your hips show no sign of speeding despite your core being enamoured by his desperation. "I'm good! Promise!"
"I know, baby. You just need to focus!" You kiss his flushed cheek before towering above him again. "So, what are you gonna do for me?"
You resume your bounces, and Alex rejoices with a hoarse moan. His large hands enclose your breasts to toy with them roughly, squeezing and kneading until your nipples respond in stiffness. "I'm gonna write you a paper. A good one! Really good..."
You give a roll of your hips as a courtesy. "Good boy."
His sloppy hips meet your bunny hops halfway as something sticky and hot begins to trickle down his cock. Your ride gets slippery and, to your annoyance, messier. You mask your desperation with aggression and bounce faster, your hands full with the sweaty fabric of his polo shirt. A particular spot within your core is struck, and your walls quiver around him in surrender, and, just this once, you moan. Alex stumbles in your wake, weakly moaning as he splotches your walls with his warm, irritatingly gluey release.
His whining and pants persist as you climb off his lap, ricocheting off the walls of your small dorm. You give him one last once-over as he liquefies into your sheets, churning into a puddle of pathetic lust and goo. You dig through your chest underneath your bed and fish out a fresh pair of panties, pulling off your worn ones and tossing them across Alex's deflating and expanding chest. He flinches cutely.
"For your troubles." You snort as you pull on fresh panties. You don't realise how low on panties you are until you pull on your shirt; perhaps you've been too generous with your handouts.
"They're doing dorm inspections today, so don't overstay your welcome. And clean yourself up, please?" you instruct, pulling on your jacket before throwing your gym bag over your shoulder. "I'd invite you to my practice, but I know you'll be busy with my paper tonight."
"Yeah..." He huffs. "Busy..."
You swing the door open and smile. "You're the best, Aly."
As you exit, your descent downstairs halts when you pull out your phone to relay a message your favourite puddle of goo.
There's Clearasil and pimple patches in my drawer. Thank me later. x
Opening the outside door, you remember one more thing.
And I want my panties back!!!
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cyberg4n · 1 year
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✧ 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀 — a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.
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paring: earth1610!miles x fem!reader
warnings: none
a/n: not proofread so i’m sorry if there’s any mistakes 🤧
summary: miles confesses his undying love for you.
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you knock on the front door, patiently waiting for a response. you hear miles and rio arguing about something. “basta, miles. lo tengo!” rio shouts, “¡mama por favor!” the door swings open, rio welcomes you in with open arms. “oh hello, it is so nice to see you sweetie!” she quickly pulls you into a hug, patting your back. you awkwardly laugh, looking over her shoulder. miles drags his hands down his head, an exasperated expression painted on his face. you pull away, giving rio a large smile. “it’s so nice to see you too, mrs. morales.” your eyes dart over to miles, pleading for help. he quickly runs over to the two of you, looping his arm around yours. “okaayy, we have to go study now, mama, so…” miles drags you over to his room — instantly shutting the door behind him.
he sighs in relief, watching as you examine his room. you pick up a pink beaten up plushie, giving him a funny look. “what? he’s my comfort plush.” he jokes, scratching his neck. you laugh, placing it back down. you swing off your backpack — grabbing a few papers out. you sit on his bed, laying out all the study materials. he sits down next to you, grabbing a pencil from the bedside table.
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you and miles have been studying in his bedroom for the past hour. you’re working on a math assignment, and he's helping you understand a difficult concept. you’re so focused on your work that you don't notice when miles puts his pencil down and turns to look at you. “could i ask you something?” he says softly. you look up and meet his gaze, noticing how beautiful his eyes are. “yea, what’s up?” you inquire, you're breath shakes once you see how close you are to him. miles deeply inhales and inches his hand closer to yours. “we’re friends right?” he asks. you stare at him, you can’t help but laugh. “of course we are, miles.” he nods in agreement, he looks almost more nervous than you. “well, i’ve been thinking a lot about you lately. i can't stop thinking about you, actually..”
your heart skips a beat as you began to realize what he's implying. you’re not sure how to respond. you always thought he was cute, but you never thought of anything beyond that — but now that he's said it, you realize you might have feelings for him too. “miles, what are you saying?” you ask, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “it’s just whenever i’m with you, i feel safe. i feel like i’m at home.” he says earnestly. your eyes widen, feeling a flush on your cheeks. “you’re my home, y/n. i can be myself around you without having to feel like i have to hide anything.” he studies your face, searching for an answer. “i won't be upset if you don't feel the same way. i just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me.” you blinked, taking a deep breath — looking into his eyes. “i’m not sure miles. i don’t know what to say.” you mumble honestly. his face pales, hanging his head low. “but, i think i feel the same way.” miles’ face breaks into a huge grin as he leans closer to you.
he hesitates for a second before kissing you. miles slides his hand into yours, rubbing his thumb over your skin. it’s a gentle, tentative kiss — the kind that feels like a promise for more. for the rest of the night, you and miles talked more about your feelings for each other rather than your actual studies. after you finish packing your stuff up. you say goodbye to miles, walking over to his door. your hand hovers over the doorknob before you turn around. you stand there, pausing. he looks back at you, awkwardly rubbing his arm. “did you forget something?” he asks. you nod, stepping closer to him before giving him one last peck on the lips. he melts into the kiss, hugging you tightly. he gives you an amused look, smiling wide. “thanks for tonight, miles.” you whisper, kissing his cheek. “i think i’m really going to ace that math test now.” you giggled. he beamed — nodding. “of course you will.”
as you walk home, you realize that everything feels different now. you’re not just friends anymore — you're something more. and even though you're nervous about what the future might hold, you know that you're excited to see where this new relationship takes you.
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lethalchiralium · 2 years
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I NEED A GHOST FANFIC WHERE WE FALL IN LOVE WITH GHOST AND WINNIE AND IT SHOWS THEIR RELATIONSHIP ABD MORE!!! OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH 🫶🫶🫶🫶
Dear Winter | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
a/n: my first 2023 post! happy new year!!! thank you for requesting and being patient - this took a while lol. it might not be what you want but i literally could not NOT write this. it would be illegal.
song reference: Dear Winter by AJR
summary: Simon had to find a toy for Winnie, but discovers what finally pushes him over the edge to confess his love for you.
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Simon didn’t feel like he should’ve been searching in his attic for a mindless little toy that Winnie wanted. He had packed it away when he recognized that she didn’t like it anymore, but now it’s all she’ll talk about. The goddamn elephant that he bought at the hospital when she was born - it was before he was able to see her. It sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and he put in a voice recording of himself saying, “I love you, Winnie.”
All Winnie ever wanted was the bear that Price had gotten her, the little green bear that did nothing but stare lifelessly. Now it was “I want Ellie, Daddy. I want Ellie!” all day and night, and his poor nanny was doing her best to keep Winnie entertained - which wasn’t enough, apparently.
He opened another plastic tub, placing the lid on the box beside it. It was full of Winnie’s baby clothes, ranging from frilly dresses to onesies. He dug through it, but still not seeing the pink elephant. He huffed in frustration, slamming the lid back on the tub and pulled it away, revealing another tub just like it.
This one was full of photos, which were of Winnie, him, and you specifically. Special milestones like when it was Winnie’s first steps, his eyes wide as he watched Winnie take her first steps. Or the picture in front of your family’s Christmas tree, the year he needed your help to figure out Christmas. Winnie sat on his shoulders and your arm around his back, his girls’ smiles large as his eyes were only visible from his cloth balaclava.
His girls.
His thumb swiped at your bubbly smile on the picture, a smile of his own now on his face.
He had fallen for you that Christmas. Spending more time with you than Winnie, since your three brothers kept the little one occupied for most of the trip. He had found you fascinating, you never pushed an answer from him, choosing to let him understand you first. He had very reluctantly allowed you to hug him, rest your head on his shoulder, and tried his best not to flinch when you grabbed his hand. That was two years ago - he was so far down the rabbit hole that he had convinced himself that you were just being friendly. He figured out later that you had a crush on him.
Simon sighed, beginning to move the large cluster of pictures out of the box and onto the floor when a folded piece of paper tumbled across the floor. He grunted in annoyance, dropping the pictures onto the spot next to him before stretching and reaching out for the paper, grasping it in his fingers. He was ready to toss it into the box when he looked back into it, only seeing old notebooks of his from when he was a kid. He thumbed the piece of paper, seeing a date that he remembered well.
If he was a little bit less tired of his daughter’s constant pleading for a toy he was very sure was in her room, he might have thrown the folded paper in the box again, shoving all of the picture on top of it. If he was a little more awake, he would’ve buried the paper at the bottom of the box - but it was something he had thought about for a few weeks.
It was an old assignment he had done in school as a teenager, on his 16th birthday when he used the last of his happiness and sanity to do the one assignment he really wanted to. Write a letter to someone in the future.
He tucked the piece of paper and the Christmas photo in his pocket, shoving the photos back in the box - he decided Winnie could wait another day for that stupid elephant. He slid the lid back on the tub and made his way back to the attic entrance. He quickly climbed down, pushing the ladder back up with one arm. It clicked into place and he turned away, making his way downstairs. He heard the thunderous footsteps of his daughter before she ran in front of him, her blanket tied around her shoulders as she held up her green bear. He watched her go by as she made the noise of an airplane, disappearing into the living room.
He looked back to where she came from, seeing a glimpse of you moving out of the playroom and into the front room. Simon then followed his daughter, walking into the living room as she then noisily made her way into the kitchen. He didn’t mind, he always hated noise but hearing his daughter have fun was an exception. Every noise his daughter made assured him that she was still alive, his worst fear was losing Winnie. He swiftly sat down on the couch, pulling out the folded piece of paper.
His fingers moved the flimsy paper to open, and it was like he was transported back in time.
Dear Winter,
I hope you like your name. I hope they don't make fun of you when you grow up and go to school, okay? 'Cause Winter is a badass name.
I hope you talk to girls or boys or anyone you like, I just hope you don't stay in every night. 'Cause I wish I was out tonight.
I hope you like your name. I'm hoping that someday, I can meet you on this earth.
I hope you like this letter. Even when you're thirteen and you scream at me for parenting you wrong.
I still hope you like your name. You know I cannot wait to teach you how to curse.
But Winter, please don’t move too far away. And please don't say I'm hovering when I call you to ask about your day.
I wanna hear about your day.
Will we still hang out and talk when I'm no longer in charge?
Winter, I hope you like your name. I hope you let me take a shot with you on your 21st.
He remembered writing this at a small park near his childhood home, turning it in the same day and hoping his teacher wouldn’t talk to him about it. He remembered forcing this piece of paper at the bottom of his bag when he got it back so his father wouldn’t see it, so his brother wouldn’t either and mock him. He had walked into his house, rushing through the hallway to the kitchen where his mother was humming.
“Mum,” He had said, she looked up from the food she was mixing in a bowl and smiled at him. He remembered how vibrant her dark blonde hair was, how his eyes matched hers - how her smile could instantly change his mood. He was a mama’s boy. “I got an A on my assignment.”
She set down her whisk and batted the flour off of her hands onto her apron, moved around the counter as he dug into his bag and handed her the folded paper.
Simon Riley would never forget how his mother had kneeled in front of him, held his hands and whispered, “I can’t wait to meet Winnie, I can’t wait for you to find someone who loves you even more than I do, Simon. You’ll be a good husband, a good father one day. You’ll always be better than him.” She had settled her hands on his face, wiping his tears as she said, “You’ll find her.”
He had planned to call his first daughter Winter, her name staying the same for a nickname. But, he now called his daughter, ‘Winnie’, so that it was like his mother was in his daughter’s life.
Dear Winter, I'm looking for your mom.
I gotta find a girl that doesn't mind that I'm inside my head a lot.
Winter, it won't be too long.
First, I just gotta find your mom.
“Simon.”
He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing your wide smile as your hands settled on your hips.
“Did you find it?”
He didn’t register your words, he just gazed at you. He folded the letter that he had wrote when he was sixteen, the only thing he would’ve ever had hope for was love. That all his teenage self wanted, a family to love and be loved by.
Did you find it? You said.
He wanted to hand you that letter. He wanted you to read the most vulnerable thing he’s ever created - he knew he shouldn’t. But fuck, he wanted to. He shoved the letter into his pocket, and calmly spoke, “No.”
Your face fell, looking deep in thought before you said, “You checked everything up there? I could’ve sworn I went through her whole room…” You began to mumble to yourself as Simon held out his right hand towards you. You immediately stopped talking, gaze looking to his hand then to his masked face. “What?”
He turned his palm towards the ceiling, as if he was asking for your hand. You looked back down at his hand before placing yours on his large palm. He gently curled his fingers around your soft skin and pulled you towards him. You sort of stumbled forwards, your knees now hit the front of the couch and his thighs ghosted the side of yours. His other hand came to gently hold your empty one that was settled by your side.
He could feel your heartbeat quicken as his finger pressed into your wrist. His own heart was beating so fast that he thought he wouldn’t be able to go through with this.
Did you find it?
The picture of you three? Yes, and it made him pull the letter out again. He bit the inside of his cheek before placing it in your palm.
“What is this?” You curiously asked, he gestured for you to open it. He let go of you then, allowing you to read the letter.
His heart was in overdrive as he watched you read it, eyebrows sort of furrowed.
“You asked me if I found it. I didn’t find what Winter wanted, but what I wanted. Want.”
You read the last line and looked up at Ghost, gasping as you now saw his maskless face. His brown eyes watched yours trace his face, commit it to memory. And your right hand reached out, ghosting the skin of his cheek before his own hand pressed it down, his face leaned into your touch. You memorized every white scar, the way his lips curved, his jaw - he was beautiful.
“Tell me if I’m wrong.”
His hand pulled yours from his face, allowing his other hand to place a folded photo on your palm. You took it and opened it, staring at it.
It was the one Christmas that Simon and Winnie had spent with your family. You were looking up at Winnie as the little two year old sat on Simon’s shoulders. She was reaching for you, and then you looked at him in the picture. Even with the balaclava on and his face turned, you could clearly see that he was gazing at you.
Your gaze looked up to Simon again, still amazed at how beautiful he was. You knew him for almost four years, and this was the first time you have ever seen his face. Your heart skipped a few beats as his hand grazed your hip.
Your hand rested on his shoulder, he spoke again. “You. You are what I want.” His other hand settled on your waist, sort of coaxing you closer to him. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his forehead against your stomach. Your hand moved from his shoulders to his dirty blond hair, you gazed down at it as he continued. “I didn’t always want to be a dad, I didn’t want to be after what happened to my family. But when Grace told me that she was pregnant, I ran. I ran away like a fuckin’ coward.” His arm moved from your hip up to hold the small of your back. “I…cared for her, I did. And when she died, I was surprised that I didn’t feel anything about it. Because I had to put all of my focus and strength in my daughter, the same thing you do while I’m gone.” He looked up at you now, his eyes meeting yours. “I care for you. And I can’t go a day without thinking of you.”
“Simon…”
“Please, tell me.” His hands pushed into your skin just a little more. “Tell me if I’m wrong and I will leave you be.”
You stared at him. You would have never expected any sort of confession from him, ever. He was the type to bottle everything up until he rots in a casket - not the type to say what he felt. And to be honest, your heart and stomach both fell from your body. You had pushed that ‘harmless’ crush all the way down into your soul, and here he comes- ripping layers of protection out of your heart and soul.
Your eyes darted to his lips then back up to his beautiful eyes, your thumb gently threaded across the short hair on the back of his head.
“Love me, Simon Riley.”
Oh Winter, I have already found your mom.
———
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