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yandere-daydreams · 4 months

Text

Title: Nurture.

Paring: Yan!Geto Suguru x Reader x Yan!Gojo Satoru (JJK).

A Continuation Of Nursle.

Word Count: 11.0k.

TW: Dub/Con, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Imprisonment, Mentions of Pregnancy/Childbirth, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Implied Semi-Public Sex, Forced Marriage, Panic Attacks/Disassociation, Mentions of Stalking, and Nonchronological Timelines. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You were never supposed to meet Geto Suguru.

It’d been a misstep in the never-ending trudge that was the cosmic timeline; a mistake on behalf of the universe that left you on the doorstep of his temple, glancing between the rustic entryway and the scrap of paper one of your student’s mothers had slipped into your hand a few weeks prior. “They should be able to help with your little problem,” she’d explained with a wink, a knowing glance towards your stiff shoulders, the dark bags under your eyes. “One visit, and you’ll feel like a teenager again.”

You’d smiled politely and told her that you’d give it a try and shoved her note into a drawer below your desk to be swiftly forgotten. You went to a doctor, then a chiropractor, then a psychologist, then briefly considered making an appointment with a fortune teller before finally relenting and deciding that you were, in fact, desperate enough for a miracle healer. It took three trains, two taxis, and more than a handful of helpful strangers, but you’d arrived at the messily scrawled address in one piece. You could still turn around, try your luck with another specialist, another bottle of over-the-counter sleeping pills – sane solutions that sane people fell back on when they encountered problems that sane people had. You could go back to your flat, your ever-growing pile of ungraded tests, and pretend you’d never been here at all. You could do the thing that crazy, desperate people didn’t do, and you could leave.

You took a deep breath, braced yourself, and crossed into the entryway.

An attendant caught you as soon as you’d stepped inside. He was male, middle-aged, wearing the most strained, plastered-on smile you’d ever seen as he bowed his head to you. After a moment of nervous delay, you returned the gesture. “I—Uh, a friend of mine pointed me in your direction,” you stuttered out, doing your best to speak through your anxiety. “She said your head priest could…”

You trailed off, struggling to find the right words. Thankfully, the attendant cut in before you could make yourself look like a complete moron. “Geto-sama?” Impossibly, his smile widened even further. “You’ve come to the right place - he’s a truly miraculous healer. He’s seeing another poor, suffering soul at the moment, but you’re free to wait outside of his sanctuary.”

With a quick nod and a few words of thanks, you were swiftly taken to and abandoned in a small sitting room that, you could only guess, led into the innermost shrine. You sunk into a remarkably uncomfortable wooden chair and managed to sit still for all of three seconds before looking for your next distraction. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to find.

Two girls sat on the other side of the room; sisters, you guessed, if not twins. One (Mimiko – it’d still be a few days before you learned her name) was perched on the edge of a chair identical to your own while the other (Nanako) sat cross-legged on the floor between her legs, fiddling with a hand-held console as her sister tried and failed to braid her hair. You couldn’t help yourself – a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watched Mimiko clumsily fumble with the messily divided strands of hair, her frustration written clearly across her expression. You’d always been comfortable around kids, as much as you never wanted to have your own. You didn’t know much about healing priests or mystic illnesses, but you knew how to handle a struggling seven-year-old.

When she looked away from her work, seeming to notice you for the first time, you offered her a bright smile, a quick wave. “Having a hard time?” you asked, gesturing towards her messy handiwork. “I can show you a few tricks, if you’d like.”

There was a long moment of hesitation, a quick look shared with her sister. “I understand if you don’t trust my credentials, but…” You fished out a few spare hair-ties out of your pocket: bright pink and adorned with equally garish bows, the color and design enough to make Nanako’s eyes light up. One of your more absent-minded students tended to forget hers, and you’d gotten into the habit of carrying a healthy stockpile on her behalf. “I did bring my own supplies.”

A few minutes later, you found yourself dutifully combing out Mimiko’s hair while Nanako admired her new pigtails. They seemed reluctant to talk to you, but you did your best to make polite conversation – well, as much as you could with two stand-offish grade schoolers. “Are you two waiting for someone?”

Mimiko pursed her lips, but Nanako wasn’t so shy. “Our dad,” she filled in, the kind of pride only an idealistic child could have for a parent heavy in her voice. “He hates monkeys.”

“Oh.” You did your best to sound surprised, rather than confused. “Does he work for the temple?”

“Mhm – he’s really strong, and super important.” She waited for you to num in acknowledgement, then went on. “You’re here to see him, right? He can definitely help you, if you are.”

Your hands faltered, a lock of Mimiko’s hair slipping out of your loose hold. “Your father’s… the head priest?”

Nanako nodded enthusiastically, and for the first time, Mimiko chimed in, “He’ll probably get rid of your creepy friend.”

This time, you stopped moving entirely. “I’m sorry, my friend?”

Mimiko glanced over her shoulder, moved to speak, but the screen door leading into the shrine slid open before she could answer you. It wasn’t an attendant, this time, but a man in monk’s garb with hair that reached past his shoulders and a grin less strained but just as artificial as that of his attendants. Geto Suguru, although it’d still be some time before you knew to call him that.

His dark eyes found you first, before moving to his daughters. “Girls,” he started, tone more playful than chiding. “Are you bothering my guests?”

The twins exchanged a long, weighty look before Nanako pushed herself to her feet and hurried to her father’s side. With a sigh of mock exasperation, he leaned down, letting her whisper something into his ear as you rushed to finish Mimiko’s braid. You couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it was enough to earn a pair of pursed lips from Suguru, a languid shake of his head. Without responding to her, he straightened his back, already ushering you inside. You took a deep breath, then followed him into the shrine.

He made no attempt to put on a show of false hospitality. Wordlessly, he left you loitering in the center of the very empty, very large room while he stepped onto a raised platform and collapsed onto his side, propping his elbow on a cushioned, stand-alone armrest. This time, when he sighed, it seemed to be out of a more genuine exhaustion, his eyes falling shut briefly as he propped his chin on his fist and brought his free hand to his temples. “I have to apologize for my daughters. If I could watch them constantly, it still wouldn’t be enough.” He opened his eyes, and instantly, you felt the full weight of his stare. If it hadn’t been a feeling you were so used to, it might’ve been enough to send a chill down your spine. “Now, how can I be of service to you?”

You dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to fidget. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping, lately. There’s been this weight on my back, like—”

“Like you’re being watched?”

He spoke confidently, as if answering a question he’d written himself. With your hands clenched into fists at your sides, you nodded. Suguru’s head lulled to the side, his smile taking on a satisfied lilt. “I thought so. Tell me – have you had any scorned lovers in the past? Boyfriends, fiancés, that type of thing?”

“A stalker,” you admitted. “But, he passed a few months ago. There was an accident, and—”

This time, he cut you off with a snap of his fingers. It was brief, barely a flash of movement, but you caught something in the corner of your eye – an amorphous shape perched above your right shoulder, a thousand eyes spotted across its baggy skin and a hundred curling tentacles wrapped around your arms, your chest, your stomach. You shut your eyes, winced, and when you opened them again, the creature was gone and Suguru held a small, pitch-black marble between his thumb and forefinger. He took a second to evaluate it before letting out an approving hum and bringing the marble to his lips, swallowing it whole. In your shock, it didn’t even occur to you to look away.

“These things tend to linger.” It was a meager explanation, but you accepted it whole-heartedly. For the first time in months, you were able to straighten your back, to drop your shoulders, to stand up without a single part of you crying out in protest. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so relieved.

“Thank you,” you nearly gasped, bowing at the waist. “Oh my god, I— I don’t have much money, but—”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask for compensation. Consider this—” A click of his tongue, a roll of his wrist. “—a favor between friends. The most I could ask for is a little of your time, in return.”

You would’ve given him your first-born child, if he’d asked for it. “Of course, anything. I really can’t thank you enough, sir.”

“It’s just— I’ve been trying to find a tutor for my daughters for the longest time, and they already seem fond of you.” For the first time since you’d stepped into his shrine, he sat up, facing you directly. “I understand that you’re a teacher?”

You left the temple a few minutes later, a new number programmed into your phone and a smile brighter than anything you’d worn in years painted across your lips.

You moved in with Satoru the same day he met Himari – as much being told to shove everything you couldn’t live without in a bag because you wouldn’t be coming back to your apartment could be called moving. You would’ve fought it more, but he’d been holding your daughter, and you couldn’t take that kind of risk with her. Not again.

Time seemed to pass in slow, thick clumps. Hours would pass in the blink of an eye and seconds would drag on and on and on until you couldn’t stand the idea of pretending you cared, anymore. A nursery was thrown together in one of Satoru’s guestrooms. When you mentioned that you’d never slept so far from her, Satoru cooed and kissed your cheek.

“It’ll be alright, baby. I’ve got enough monitors to last ‘till she’s eighteen. And, no offense, they’re a little more reliable than what you’ve been using.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll want her sharing a room with us.”

Something pricked at the back of your throat. “I could sleep in here, with—”

“Nope.” He was kind enough to shut you down before you could so much as start to get your hopes up. “Honestly, she should count herself lucky I’m willing to share at all.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Instead, you closed your eyes, and when you found the strength to open them again, the world was dark and your body was cold.

Once the novelty wore off, you fell into a steady routine. Once or twice a week, you’d make the trip to Suguru’s temple and do your best to drill seven years’ worth of public education into Mimiko and Nanako while their father saw his unfortunate visitors. They were smart girls, even if they were more interested in your love life than multiplication tables, and when you thought about Suguru had done for you, you couldn’t say you minded spending a few hours of your weekend in a scenic, rural temple surrounded by Suguru’s (sometimes off-putting, but never unpleasant) congregation.

It took two months before you saw Suguru’s composure slip. It’d been a mistake – an accident on your part as much as it was on his – but you hadn’t thought of it in such fatalistic terms in the moment.

You kept your hands in your pockets as you wandered through the temple’s courtyard, stretching your legs while the girls finished a worksheet on long division (chosen by Nanako over English contractions, much to Mimiko’s protest). Idly, eager to give them as much time as you could, you made your way around the inner sanctum’s perimeter, rounding a sharp corner before abruptly coming to a stop.

Geto sat on the edge of the raised porch, eyes closed and his shoulder braced against the side of a support beam. You moved to flee, to apologize for interrupting his meditation, but you noticed his hunched posture, his slightly parted lips, and let out a breath of a laugh, your panic fading into pity.

Ah, the poor thing.

He was so tired, he’d fallen asleep sitting up.

As little as you’d expected to see a grown man sleeping in public, you weren’t surprised. Suguru was always running himself ragged; either hosting guests or holding sermons or running errands on the temple’s behalf, always coming back with a certain weight to his steps and an off-kilter quirk to his smile. With a sigh, you kneeled next to him and after a moment of hesitation, shrugged off your coat, taking care not to wake him as you draped it over his shoulders. Immediately, he relaxed – an ounce of the tension in his shoulders dissolving as he slumped into himself. You’d considered waking him up, but decided against it. Your own months of sleepless nights and never-ending days were still fresh in your memory. You didn’t want to be the reason he missed out on a few precious minutes of much-needed rest.

You heard a screen door slide open, a high-pitched voice call your name from the other side of the temple. You pushed yourself to your feet, but paused, spared another glance toward Suguru. It was a stupid, spontaneous thing to do, you didn’t give yourself time to think better of it before brushing his bangs away from his face and pressing a kiss into his forehead – the kind of kiss you’d give to one of your students in the wake of scraped knees and playground arguments. When he failed to stir, you pulled back and crossed your arms over your chest, doing your best to keep yourself warm as you started back to where his girls were waiting for you.

Satoru was at your door as soon as the bell rang.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you must’ve known he wouldn’t give up old patterns so easily. He loitered in the hallway while your hyper-active students filtered out, slipped inside as the last of the stranglers did their best not to gawk at the inhumanely tall stranger with unnaturally white hair. By the time he crossed the threshold, you and Megumi were the only ones left, the latter dutifully waiting for his daily busy work at the corner of your desk.

Satoru acknowledged him with a click of his tongue, a quick ruffle to Megumi’s hair before he moved onto you. “There’s my pretty girl,” he half-said, half-sung as he slung an arm around your neck, pulling you into his chest. “Had you on my mind all day. Couldn’t stop wishin’ I had your pretty ti—”

You cleared your throat into your hand, nodding pointedly towards Megumi. Satoru’s grin faltered, then collapsed into a pursed-lipped frown. He didn’t say anything, but his thumb dug into your shoulder, his cruel eyes flickering to you over the dark lenses of his glasses. You didn’t need any further instruction. If Suguru taught you anything, it’d been how to get rid of unwanted company.

“Megumi.” You waved him toward you, and despite the mix of distrust and exasperation written clearly across his expression, he stepped forward. Still, you braced yourself before going on. As little as you wanted to associate him with Satoru, to blame him for what Satoru did to you, you hadn’t been able to meet his eyes all day. Whenever you looked at him, you couldn’t help but think about Himari, and whenever you thought about Himari—

“You usually walk home with Tsumiki today, right?” He didn’t, but you couldn’t think of a better excuse. Lately, it was all you could do to put one word in front of another, let alone actually manage to clear away enough of the thick, buzzing static clouding your mind to form an intelligent thought. “You should really get going, before she starts to think you left without her.”

His gaze dropped to the ground. He mumbled something just a breath below audible, and you forced yourself to smile. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I don’t want to leave you alone with him.” His tone was clipped, his eyes narrowed. “He’s… He’s gross, and weird, and you shouldn’t talk to him.”

If he’d been any other kid, if Satoru had been any other adult, you might’ve laughed, chided him for speaking so rudely about his elders. Instead, you only sighed, your smile faltering as you brought a hand to his shoulder. “We’re just going to have a little chat, that’s all. I promise, I’ll be just fine when we see each other tomorrow.” You paused, lowered your voice into something playfully conspiratorial. “Between you and me, I think he’s pretty weird too. Thanks for looking out for me.”

His scowl deepened, but he didn’t protest. After tossing one more glare in Satoru’s direction, he trudged out of your classroom, letting the door slam behind him. You didn’t have time to feel relief or dread or much of anything before Satoru was on top of you – his knee planted between your thighs, one of his hands groping at your waist while the other caught your chin, holding you in place while his lips crashed into yours, the kiss mess and open-mouthed and desperate. “The brat’s annoying,” he muttered, as he pulled away. “But I can’t say I don’t see where he’s coming from. If you’d been my teacher, I don’t think I would’ve been able to stop myself from bending you over your desk ‘n earning a little extra credit.”

A wave of nausea washed over you. You couldn’t stop yourself from buckling forward, but Satoru had already moved on, found his way to the side of your neck. “Please, don’t talk about my students like—”

Your voice gave out as he bit down – burying his teeth in your throat in less of a love-bite and more of an effort to eat you alive. You barely managed to stop yourself from crying out, but panic quickly swallowed whatever pain you might’ve felt. It’d leave a mark, one you wouldn’t be able to hide, not completely. Against your will, your mind flashed to Megumi and, if you’d been just a little weaker, you might’ve collapsed, passed out while Satoru lapped the blood now trickling down your throat. If you’d been just a little luckier, you might’ve fallen apart entirely.

Your hands shot to his hair, and Satoru let out a throaty groan. His hands fell to your thighs, and before you could so much as think to struggle, you were laid across your desk, folders and worksheets pushed aside in favor of trapping your body underneath his. “Always wanted to do this,” he muttered into your shoulder, already pulling your skirt to your waist. “Might have to go into teaching, too – just so you can return the favor.”

He might’ve gone on, but you were done listening.

You would have to request a change of classroom, tomorrow morning.

Nanako returned your coat to you a week later, rolling on the balls of her feet and grinning from ear to ear.

You saw Suguru more often, after that.

Granted, not too often, and never for very long. He was still a busy man, and most of your interactions were limited to minute-long conversations as you found each other heading in the same direction, a few niceties exchanged as you dropped Nanako and Mimiko off at the door of his shrine. He never struck you as overly guarded, but you could count the number of times you’d heard him speak about himself on a single hand. If it hadn’t been for his girls, you probably would never have learned his given name.

Winter had begun its swift and relentless approach, and you found yourself standing outside of the temple’s gates, watching the sun slip below the horizon and debating if it would be worth it to cough up the cash for a taxi, rather than dragging yourself through the labyrinth that was public transportation in the dark. As you checked your phone for the dozenth time, you caught a flash of movement in your peripheral and glanced up only to find Suguru – changed out of his monk’s garb and into a plain shirt and a pair of sweatpants that made him look more like an exhausted college student than the head of his own temple. He nodded to you by way of greeting, and you flashed him a smile. “Waiting for someone?”

“Something like that.” You looked back to your phone and sighed. “I might have to make our next session a little earlier. I forgot how dark it could get and, well, you know what it’s like in the city.”

You withered, but Suguru only brightened. “Let me give you a ride.”

“Are you sure? I’d hate to—”

“Please, (Y/n).” You could see why he had such a dedicated congregation. When he spoke, it was impossible not to listen. “Just think of it as a favor between friends.”

You wanted to refuse, to tell him not to waste his time, but a streetlamp buzzed to life somewhere above you and the last trace of your resolve crumbled. A few minutes later, you were in the back of a sleek, black car – Suguru sitting next to you and his driver hidden behind a tinted partition. More time than you would’ve liked passed in tense silence before you, more motivated by discomfort than gratitude, broke the quiet. “I was surprised when I found out Nanako and Mimiko were homeschooled.” Before he could respond, you realized how it must’ve sounded and tried to backtrack. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that! It’s just—you’re always so busy, and they’re such bright girls. I’m sure that, if you ever did want to get them enrolled, they’d do very well. It’d free up a lot of your time, too.”

You thought you saw him wince, but it could’ve just been a trick of the light. By the time you turned to face him properly, his expression was unreadable – his lips pulled into a thin line and his dark eyes focused on some unseen point in the distance. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this,” he admitted, before letting an airy sigh. “But… I made a lot of bad choices, when I first took them in. The were a bad situation, and I was young and stupid, and I— I think I might’ve fucked things up. For them, at least. I probably would’ve ended up in the same place eventually.” Another sigh, a lengthy pause. When he went on, his tone was heavier, his usual confidence greatly diminished, if not absent entirely. “…you don’t think I made a mistake, do you?”

You took a second to think, letting your eyes fall to your lap. “I don’t,” you said, finally. “The girls seem happy, and you’re providing for them. They won’t have normal lives, but—” You hummed, shrugged. “Who does?”

He seemed to relax, the harsh edges of his expression dulling. His eyes shifted to you. “You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

This time, you didn’t hesitate at all, shaking your head with a slight smile. “Consider it,” You let your tone dip into something teasing and secretive, raising your chin the way he tended to when talking to guests and members of his congregation. “a favor between friends.”

Your showmanship earned a dry chuckle, a softened gaze. After a long beat, he asked, “Would you mind if I, uh…” He trailed off, tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Would you mind if I tried something?”

Now, it was your turn to laugh. You’d assumed he was in his mid-twenties, but he must’ve been younger – he was acting like a teenager. “Go ahead, Suguru.”

Despite your reassurance, he stalled for a few seconds before, more than a little stiltedly, bending at his waist and resting his head gingerly on your lap. It was an awkward position, the back of the car too cramped for him to lay down properly, but his eyes fell shut and after the initial shock faded, you could only smile, raising a hand and combing your fingers idly through his hair. When you pulled the elastic band holding his half-bun together out of place, letting his hair fall loose over your thighs, he didn’t protest, only going that much more limp on top of you.

You two stayed that way for the rest of the trip; his head in your lap, your finger carding through his hair, the only noise that of traffic and the occasional muted hum when your attention started to drift. It was only when his driver pulled onto the curb in front of your complex that Suguru raised his head, blinking himself back into consciousness. You turned to let yourself out, only to feel him take up one of your hands – his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You didn’t have time to ask him what he was doing before you felt him cup your cheek, before you felt his mouth against yours.

The kiss was gentle but warm, shallow but lingering. He held you there, his lips barely yours, for a second, then another, before you snapped out of it and pulled away – your disgust as immediate as it was it was self-concentrated. If Suguru felt the same way, he hid it well. You could only make out the slightest trace of hurt in the down-turned corners of his parted lips.

He started to say something, but you were already rushing to apologize. “I’m sorry, Suguru. You’re a sweet kid, but I’m—” You forced yourself to laugh, the noise jolting and strained. “I’m nearly twice your age.”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t care how old you are.”

“Exactly.” You shook your head, dragging a hand over your face. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve been more clear about, I don’t know,” You gestured vaguely. “—everything. And I should really—”

Again, you moved to leave, and again, he stopped you. This time, he caught you by the wrist. “I’m not a kid.” You tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened. You felt something in your forearm begin to ache. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you how serious I am.”

“Absolutely not.” You pried the door open and jerked away from him just in time to stumble out of his car and onto the pavement. You saw his posture straighten, his body tense as if he was going to try to lunge at you, but mercifully, he must’ve thought better of it. His anger was, instead, focused entirely into his unblinking stare, and you did your best to speak in spite of the way his eyes burnt into your chest. “I… I think it would be for the best if we didn’t see each other, for a while. Tell the girls I’m out of town, and—” You swallowed, dryly. “—I think you should get some rest, Suguru. You need it.”

As awful as it made you feel, you slammed the door shut before he could respond. He didn’t try to chase you, but his car hadn’t moved by the time you made it to your flat. With your doors locked and your blinds pulled shut, you watched it until, hours after midnight, you nodded off.

He was gone when you woke up, and you could only hope he’d be mature enough to mind his distance.

Satoru’s face was buried between your thighs when you heard his phone ring, his hands curled around your thighs and your body perched on the edge of one of his rarely used marble counters. You would’ve missed it entirely if you’d been a little closer to the edge, if he’d been just a little nosier as he moaned and grunted into your cunt, but you weren’t, and he wasn’t, and the sound of that melodic dial-tone cut through the haze like a knife through fog (relatively ineffective, but still violent enough to draw attention). You straightened as much as you could, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging, gently. “Satoru, I think—”

“It’s not important,” he muttered against your thigh, drawing back just far enough to be audible. “’s probably just the kids. They said they were coming over, but—” He flashed you a smile, bright eyes catching the light. “They can wait ‘till we’re done. I can’t just leave my pretty girl unsatisfied.”

Immediately, the haze stiffened and shattered into a panic-inducing, heart-racing clarity. You straightened, cursed under your breath, but Satoru tongue was already lapping over your soaked slit, the bridge of his nose grinding against your clit as he all-but worshipped your pussy. This time, you didn’t tug, but pulled – doing what little you could to pry him off of you, but all you earned was a throaty whine, his fingertips dug that much deeper into the plush of your ass. His tongue bullied its way past your clenching entrance, curling and thrusting, and it took everything you had not to snap your thighs shut around his head, not to give him what he wanted. “Satoru,” you spat, using the same tone you’d put on for a misbehaving student. “S-stop.”

It was more of an instinct than a decision, more of a reflex than a choice, but either way, it didn’t seem to make a difference. With his eyes blearily focused on your expression, his mouth latched onto your pussy like it was the last thing he’d ever taste, he fucked you open with his tongue until your toes were curling, your legs twitching, your vision burning pure white in a way that made you wish you could give up on sight altogether. He nursed you through your climax until the last of your energy was spent before pushing himself to his feet and slamming his mouth into yours – his teeth cutting into your lips and your taste heavy on his tongue. By the time he pulled away, you were panting and he was wearing that awful, careless grin. You never thought you’d miss Suguru’s calculated smile, and yet.

And yet.

You didn’t have time to be angry. The kids came first – a thought that, if you’d given yourself a chance to linger on it, would’ve been more of a cause for concern. “Go clean yourself up, I’ll take care of the kitchen. Call them back as soon as you’re finished.”

“I love it when you get bossy,” he said, with a dreamy sigh. “It’s hot in a, like, ‘put me over your knee and spank me’ way, y’know?”

Your only response was a quick shake of your head, a repulsed curl of your lips. Satoru only laughed, pecking your cheek and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “They’ll love you. Megumi likes to act shy, but he can’t shut up about you. Tsumiki’ll just be ecstatic to have a baby sister,” he mumbled into your throat. “You wouldn’t break their hearts, would you?”

It might’ve hurt less, if there hadn’t already been two little girls somewhere in Japan who knew that you absolutely would.

You called Suguru from the curb in front of your flat, your head in your hands and tears streaming openly down your cheeks. He let it ring once, twice, before answering. You could practically hear the smile in his voice, practically feel the smugness in his tone. “I thought we weren’t talking, dear?”

You swallowed back another ragged sob. “It’s back.”

He was there within the hour – alone, this time, no girls and no driver. You stayed where you were as he let himself into your flat, returning only a few minutes later with a thoughtful hum and a thin frown playing on his lips. “It’s rare, but it does happen,” he started, as he sat down next to you. He was dressed in street clothes, rather than his monk’s garb. Somehow, that only made it more difficult to look at him. “Particularly restless spirits can lie dormant before reappearing stronger and more attached to their living host. A standard exorcism might no longer be enough to banish it.”

You felt something heavy and pointed drop into the pit of your stomach. Calling it 'stronger' was an understatement – you couldn’t believe something so massive, something so awful had ever been attached to you. When you let your mind wander, you could still see its dripping, pitch-black arms writhing over the walls and ceiling of your bedroom, still feel its countless eyes burning into you – a hundred, no, a thousand times worse than it’d been when Suguru had first sent it away. You buckled at the waist, burying your face in your knees, and Suguru rested a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles into your shoulder. You were thankful for the comfort, even if it would’ve taken you another few weeks to completely forget the feeling of his hand around your wrist. “Can you…” You cringed, shrunk into yourself. “Can you help?”

“Oh, absolutely.” If he’d been just a little more cocky, he would’ve been purring. “But I’m afraid it’ll cost you more than a favor, this time.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“I know.” His hand went still, settling on your shoulder. “But I need you to give me something, this time.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Anything,” you repeated, with all the desperation of a sinner laid bare before the altar. “Please, Suguru. Anything.”

“I need an heir.”

You could practically feel your heart split open and shatter inside of you. “…an heir?”

“For the sake of my congregation,” he said, like that explained anything. “We’ll have to get married first, of course. You’ll be taken care of until the child’s born, and then, you’ll be free to go.” His hand fell to your own, squeezing gently. “Or to stay with us, if that’s what you prefer.”

Any other time, the idea alone would’ve been enough to make you sick. Any other day, you would’ve told him that he could have anything, anything but that.

But, in the moment, all you could seem to think about was your flat and the monster inside of it. You felt yourself nod and, before you could take it back, heard Suguru laugh, felt his lips against your temple. “You’re making the right choice,” he muttered, the words nearly lost against your skin. “I love you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it back.

Tsumiki and Megumi were asleep in the guest room turned makeshift nursery. Megumi had been slow to warm, quick to hear Satoru introduce you as his ‘one and only’ and assume the worst (which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly wrong), but Tsumiki hadn’t been so stand-offish, and ultimately, whatever concerns an eight year old could have for your safety crumbled under his sister’s desire to fawn over your newborn. You were glad. You didn’t want him to worry about you. That was a mistake you’d made with Nanako and Mimiko. You’d let Suguru give them a reason to care if you left, and then, you’d left.

Your gaze drifted to Himari. She’d always loved attention (a trait you could only assume she’d inherited from her father), and she’d spent most of the afternoon and the entire evening basking in Tsumiki and Megumi’s adoration. Currently, she was sitting in your lap, giggling and clapping her hands together as you idly bounced her on your knee. The sight alone was enough to make your heart soar – any thoughts of Satoru and his wards fading into the background as you leaned forward and peppered her tiny face with kisses. It was a miracle that you loved her at all, let alone as much as you did. Pregnancy hadn’t been kind to you, and it wasn’t until the moment she was born that you could stand to think of yourself as a mother of a child, rather than just the incubator to a cultist’s pipedream. You’d never wanted children, but now that you had one, you couldn’t imagine letting anything in the world take her away from you.

Maybe, if he’d been a little kinder to her, if he hadn’t already had two daughters to spoil and adore, you might’ve been able to justify loving Himari less than you did, might’ve been able to leave her in his care when you pried a window open and fled in the middle of the night. He’d never been cruel to her, but no part of you believed that he wouldn’t have been if she’d failed to do what she’d been made for – if your love for her hadn’t been enough to keep you by his side. Even if you hadn’t loved her at all, you still would’ve taken her with you. No child deserved to be left in the care of a monster like Suguru.

You choose, deliberately, to only think about Himari, to tell yourself that you only ever had to think about Himari. You couldn’t afford to break your own heart a second time.

Choosing not to think about Megumi and Tsumiki proved more difficult.

It was a courthouse wedding, the ceremony little more than a few signatures and a hesitant ‘congratulations’ from the officiant. Suguru’s assistant – a blonde woman who looked at you with equal parts sympathy and disgust – acted as the witness. Suguru explained that, after your first child was born, there would be a more elaborate ceremony, something with rings and dresses and flowers that the girls could participate in. You were too dissociated to point out that there wasn’t supposed to be anything after the child was born, let alone something that would leave you that much more bound to him.

You expected him to take you back to your flat, or the villa on the outskirts of the city you’d visited a handful of times when he couldn’t meet you at his temple, but instead, you found yourself standing in front of one of the tallest, brightest hotels you’d ever seen. “It is a special occasion,” he said, as you stared blankly at the entrance. “I wouldn’t be a good husband if I didn’t spoil my wife now and then, right?”

“Please,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say, my love.” His smile was giddier than you’d ever seen it, amusement heavy in his voice. “Let me give you a hand.”

The interior was no less agonizing than the exterior. You could feel a hundred pairs of eyes burning into you as you hung off Surugu’s arm, your own legs too weak to be trusted to support you. Rather than relief, dread coiled in the pit of your stomach as he led you to your room – a suite on the highest floor. You considered, briefly, trying to tell him that you were afraid of heights, but decided against it. Even in your own head, it sounded too childish to be believable, and you couldn’t imagine dragging this out for a second longer than it absolutely had to be.

You stepped into the room and were immediately reminded that Suguru had been the one to make the arrangements. A bottle of wine sat in a bucket of ice on a velvet-cushioned ottoman. Bouquets of roses and their disembodied petals had been carefully spread across every possible surface – painting the room with misshapen splotches of bright red. A colorless atrocity of white silk and lace had been laid across the king-sized bed. You got close enough to recognize it for what it was (bridal lingerie, veil and all) before turning away and collapsing onto the foot of the bed, your vision blurry and your heart racing.

You felt your mouth go dry, your throat tighten, but you forced yourself to speak. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the silence. “Am I—” A pause, a distraught glance towards the monstrosity. “Am I supposed to wear that?”

“I might’ve been a little overzealous,” he admitted, stepping in front of you. Slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee, taking your hands in his. “I’ll be gentle, if that’s what you’re worried about. The only thing I want you to feel is pleasure.” He brought the underside of your wrist to his lips. “I love you.”

You couldn’t be sure what it was. How sincere he sounded, maybe, or how young he looked kneeling in front of you, away from his temple and out of his costume. He kissed the back of your hand, and a ragged sob tore past your lips, all the tears you hadn’t been able to shed during the ceremony suddenly beading in the corners of your eyes. As you tried to keep them at bay with your free hand, Suguru’s smile wavered, and for the first time that you’d seen, fell away completely.

He posed the question softly, carefully. You wished he would’ve been just a little more eager to break you. At least, then, you could’ve hated him for it. “…you really don’t want to do this, do you?”

There was no point trying to lie. You shook your head and watched as Suguru deflated. His eyes had always been dark, but in that moment, you could’ve sworn they’d never seen any light at all.

Before you could brace yourself, his mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise. You tasted blood, felt his tongue rake over yours; whatever gentleness he’d promised to show you little more than a distant fantasy. As his mouth moved against yours, his hand slipped under your dress – two fingers dragging over your slit through your panties before his thumb found your clit through the thin material and he pushed a rough, impulsive pattern into the sensitive bud. You shrunk into yourself, your hands finding their way to his chest before you could stop yourself from trying to push him away, but Suguru didn’t seem to care, to notice. Your panties were torn away entirely, and like a man possessed, he fell back to his knees between your open legs and started to devour you whole.

Your thighs were pulled onto his shoulders, his hands curled around your hips as the flat of his tongue laved over your slit, teasing the entrance of your pussy and flicking over your clit. He alternated between tracing vague figure-eights into your cunt and lapping up the slick starting to drip from your poor, confused pussy – your exhausted body eager to accept any affection Suguru had to show you, if you could even call what he was forcing onto your affection. You tried to reach for him, to pull him away from, but you failed to so much as make contact before he let out a near-violent snarl, calloused fingertips burrowing into vulnerable flesh as he pulled you that much closer, hauling your ass off the bed and leaving you on your back, your arms crossed over your face and your ankles crossed over his back. You sobbed openly, now, but your disparate cries were interrupted by cracked whimpers and half-swallowed mewls – little, pathetic sounds you didn’t have the strength to suppress. Suguru didn’t stop. Honestly, you would’ve been surprised if he could hear you at all over the sound of his own heady panting, of his tongue fucking into your now-soaked cunt.

You almost regretted not taking him back to your flat that first night – when he kissed you like you were the most delicate thing in the world. If you’d given in right away, he might’ve had the self-restraint to hold back. Or, to try to, at least.

One of his hands left your waist, falling low enough for the pad of his thumb to press into your clit. Messily, roughly, he toyed with the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue thrust shallowly into your cunt, curling and splitting apart the hot, clenching walls of your pussy. You felt a deep, full-chested moan reverberate up the length of your spine, and that was enough to leave you tumbling over the edge, to leave your thighs clenching around his head as you came undone on his tongue. He ate you out through the aftershocks, but didn’t stop - fucking you open with his tongue until you’d stumbled through another climax, then another, a mix of slick and saliva soon coating his chin and staining the sheets below you. By the time he pulled away, you were crying not from despair, but overstimulation; pangs of pure heat searing your nerves and leaving your cunt aching for reprieve. You were only vaguely aware of the mattress dipping beside you, of his chest pressing into yours as he kissed you for what felt like the hundredth time. As his lips pressed into yours, you decided that, if tonight was the last time you ever had to kiss someone, it wouldn’t be so bad. Not when compared to the alternative.

“I love you,” he mumbled, and then again as he pulled away, “I love you.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your voice felt like something you were no longer entitled to use; a vague concept that’d been placed at an inconceivable distance by some cruel deity. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Suguru bare his teeth in frustration. Your dress wasn’t so much removed as it was torn away from you, and you couldn’t help but wither without it. Modesty could only count so much when you could still see your arousal coating his lips, but still, it hurt.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he pulled you into the center of the bed and haphazardly dragged his shirt over his head. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You’d seen his bare arms plenty of times, watched him lift Nanako and Mimiko clean off the ground without so much as a trace of strain, and yet, something inside of you still curled up and died as your eyes raked over his sculpted chest, the corded muscle that seemed to cover every inch of him. More out of shock than anything, you moved to sit up, to put some distance between yourself and a man who looked like he could’ve torn your head off your shoulders on a whim, but he was quick to stop you, to press a palm into your chest and force you back onto the bed. With his other hand, he dragged his pants down just far enough to free his cock and, instantly, whatever desolation you might’ve felt at the sight of his bare chest was multiplied ten-fold.

You didn’t realize you were shaking your head until you moved to speak, your voice shaking and small. “That’s not going to—”

“It will.” That authority – that tone of absolute control – was back in full force. Still, you couldn’t seem to make yourself believe him. “I won’t stop until it does.”

Your heart fell into your stomach as he dragged his swollen, leaking tip over your pussy – the flushed head catching on your abused clit and drawing an airy whimper past your lips. He was, by far, the biggest man you’d ever seen, let alone slept with. As if that wasn’t enough, he was already harder than you knew someone could be – thick, pearly beads dripping from his tip and down his shaft, his more prominent veins almost pulsing as he aligned with your entrance. Even his balls were fucking huge.

Fit for a breeder, something vicious and awful whispered into the back of your mind. You tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t disagree.

Your eyes darted to his expression and met his, already blearily focused on you. You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was stolen away from you as his hips bucked forward and he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.

You’d been right, when you’d tried to stop him.

He was going to kill you.

Already, he was too much. A fresh wave of tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his cock threatened to tear you apart. Suguru let out a raspy groan, his head falling forward and he drew back, pulling out of you until only his head remained in your pussy only to snap his hip and bury himself that much deeper, only to stretch you that much further. “See?” One his hands fell to your lower stomach, the heel of his palm pressing into the soft flesh like he could feel the outline of his cock. He might’ve been able to. You were too scared to check. “You’re a perfect fit.”

There was another grunt, another breathy groan as he fell into an unsteady pace – every thrust brutal and back-breaking. His hands found their way to the headboard, curling around its upper edge as he fucked into you. He didn’t so much find the right spot as find a way to hit every spot constantly, his cock filling your pussy to the brim, leaving you desperately trying to clench down around him to no avail. A high-pitched whine – fractured and pathetic – tore past your lips, and Suguru let out an airy chuckle. “Not gonna be able to get enough of this.” His pubic bone scraped against your clit and you threw your head back, your back arching off of the mattress. Your sensitivity was rewarded with another laugh, a hand brought down just to grope idly at your chest. “I can’t let you out of my sight, from now own. I think I’ll lose my mind if I have to go a day without feeling this perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

It was hard to think, let alone piece two words together. Still, you managed to spit something out, fighting to speak above the sound of skin against skin, hips against hips. “B-but, you said— the baby—”

“Fuck the baby. This—” He slapped your clit, his touch harsh enough to make you cry out. “—is all mine.”

A hand around your throat, a new brutality to his thrusts. His grip wasn’t tight, he wasn’t choking you, and yet, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think about anything other than his cock and the feeling of your cunt being split open around it. “You’re mine.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded relieved. “And you always will be.”

Meeting Suguru had been a mistake. Asking for his help had been a mistake. Agreeing to this terrible deal had been a mistake.

But, cumming around his cock as that final possessive sentiment trickled past his lips was the biggest mistake you’d ever made or ever would make, again.

Your cunt clamped down around him – a vice around his cock. With your fists balled around satin sheets and your legs wrapped around his waist, your body convulsed underneath his, your pussy doing everything in its limited power to milk him dry. You heard Suguru curse under his breath, his hips pushing flush against yours as something thick and searing flooded into your cunt. What little managed to leak out around the base of his cock was caught with two fingers and forced back in; no drop wasted.

With a heavy exhale, Suguru dipped lower, his lips grazing over your cheek, then the curve of your neck. You shut your eyes, letting yourself deflate. It was over. No matter how you might’ve felt, no matter how much you might’ve wanted to crawl out of your skin, it was ov—

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pulled out of you, only to push back in; his rough, punishing pace only made slightly more bearably by the weight of his orgasm.

The next morning, you’d wake up to Suguru’s arm around your waist and a pregnancy test on the bedside table. It’d be too early to tell, but you wouldn’t bother to so much as open the box. Nothing could’ve kept Suguru from trying again, and again, and again in the days to follow.

Come to think of it, you couldn’t be sure if he ever stopped.

“How long is this supposed to last?”

Megumi and Tsumiki were walking a few yards ahead of you, stopping to stare into every other shop window before running ahead, and Himari was currently tucked against Satoru’s chest, occupying herself with a thorough (albeit, mostly oral) investigation of the collar of his shirt. You couldn’t cook and Satoru refused to do much of anything before noon, so the only choice left was to chase after promises of crepe trucks and cafes. Your question earned a hum, a glance toward you, but not much more. As little as you liked about Satoru, you were thankful he had such an even temper. Suguru was never so slow to react.

“Forever, preferably,” he answered, with a slight shrug. “Or until I die, at least – sorcerers have a pretty high mortality rate. I’m the best at what I do, but even the strongest ant gets crushed eventually.” He paused, pressed a quick kiss into the top of Himari’s head. “I’ll make sure to leave a big trust fund, though. You’re gonna be living off your daddy for a long, long time.”

You let your eyes fall to the sidewalk. “You don’t have to pretend you care about her. I know you’re only doing this because of him.”

If he’d denied it immediately, you wouldn’t have believed him. If he’d sworn that Suguru had nothing to do with it, if he’d dropped to his knees in front of you, if he’d told you that he loved you, you wouldn’t have believed him. But, in the end, he only pursed his lips, his head lulling to the side as he considered it. “At first, yeah,” he admitted, tracing patterns into Himari’s back. “I heard that he’d gotten with someone and… I got curious. I guess I was a little jealous.” He paused, his tone abrupt going light and sheepish. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, in retrospect – making the brats go to your school and following you around and all. I just wanted to see what kind of person could make Suguru go soft, but then I saw how you were with the little princess—” He lifted Himari above his head, grinning up at her while she spouted happy gibberish. “—and fell for you, head over heels. All I could think about was gathering you both up in my arms and takin’ you home.”

“You make us sound like stray animals.”

“I mean, you kind of are, right?” You jutted your elbow into his side, and he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Okay, okay, you’re runaways. I didn’t know you were so pedantic, (Y/n).”

He slotted Himari against his hip, his attention momentarily falling away from her as he shot a quick, teasing smile in your direction. “I like you.” His voice was soft, dull – like he was saying something you didn’t already know. Like he was giving something away. “And I want you to stick around.”

“I’m sure Suguru would’ve said the same thing.”

“I’m not like Suguru.” He found your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. “I wouldn’t let you go so easily.”

You opened your mouth, but closed it again just as quickly. Ahead of you, Tsumiki turned on her heel and waved excitedly. She’d picked a café (presumably with minimal input from Megumi); a picturesque little spot with a sun-speckled patio and overgrown garden boxes. Satoru’s hand tightened around yours, tugging you forward, and just this time, you didn’t bother trying to pull away.

The man on his knees in front of you was older – his hair receding and dotted with grey. A salaryman, you guessed, judging by his wrinkled suit, the ink stains on his sleeves. You couldn’t see his expression, not with his forehead pressed against the floor of Suguru’s sanctuary, but you could hear the pain in his voice as he pled for Suguru’s help, see the slight tremble in his shoulders. You didn’t have to assume the cause of his distress.

You couldn’t be sure when you started to see the spirits – or, the curses, you mean. It must’ve been around the end of the first trimester; your little glimpses at crooked monsters and mangled beasts solidifying into full, unrelenting exposure. Suguru suggested (after he’d finished celebrating what he would, later on, refer to as the best day of his life) that it might be a symptom of the pregnancy, that carrying a sorcerer’s child may’ve triggered some pocket of laden cursed energy buried inside of you, but you couldn’t help but think of it as some kind of cosmic punishment, even if you couldn’t begin to guess what you were being punished for.

It had to be a punishment, though. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be watching a small swarm of winged, imp-like creatures bite and scratch at the cowering salaryman, each swipe of their claws and nip of their pointed teeth enough to leave ragged, bloody stripes in his arms, his back. You felt bile rise into the back of your throat, but forced yourself not to shut your eyes, to keep your expression one of unbothered neutrality. Suguru would help him, just like he helped you.

As if by way of encouragement, you let your nails scrape over his scalp. After you started showing, the only job Suguru deemed you capable of was that of his new headrest. He took care of everything else – petitioning for maternity leave, moving you out of your flat and into the villa he shared with his girls, rewriting every little aspect of your life to better the role you’d inhabit for the next nine months: his pregnant wife. Currently, he was on his side, on leg bent at the knee and his head propped on your thighs, your fingers threaded through his hair. You’d cringed at the idea, at first, but Suguru insisted that it wouldn’t be an issue. The perks of leading your own cult, you guessed. No one could challenge his authority when he was the only authority they could possibly look to.

After a moment longer than you would’ve liked, Suguru cut off the salaryman’s incoherent rambling with a slight hum. Immediately, the salaryman fell silent, and Suguru let his head lull to the side, leaning into your palm. “Manami,” he started, addressing his assistant. She’d been called in shortly after the salaryman made his entrance. “How long has it been since our honored sponsor’s last donation?”

She glanced toward her tablet. “It’ll be five months this week.”

The salaryman scrambled to apologize. “I—I’m sorry, my store went out of business, and I—”

The corner of Suguru’s lips quirked downward. The entirety of the swarm descended onto the salaryman before you could so much as flinch away.

To say they tore him apart would be an understatement. One second, he was there, bowing in front of you, and the next, little more scraps of fabric and disembodied viscera decorated the floor of the sanctuary. Suguru snapped his fingers and, in an instant, the creatures vanished – leaving behind only gore and the thick stench of copper hanging in the stagnant air. Your hand stilled in Suguru’s hair. You might’ve passed out, if you’d been able to process what you’d just watched.

Suguru took notice of your distress quickly. That, or he just wanted to bask in his kill more privately. “If I could be alone with my wife for a moment, Manami.”

Her eyes flickered to you, lingering for a moment before she bowed her head. “Of course, Geto-sama. I’ll fetch someone to clean up this mess.”

Once she was gone, Suguru rolled onto his back, letting his eyes fall shut. “These fucking monkeys,” he sighed, with a shake of his head. “I swear, they’ll be the death of me. They can’t even seem to die without causing more trouble than they’re worth.”

“You can control them?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, dear.”

“The spirits.” And then again, with more urgency, “You can control them?”

His exasperation was swiftly replaced with self-satisfaction so potent, you could nearly taste it. “Would you expect anything less from me? Only a handful are strong enough to be helpful, but even pests can be put to good use.”

You felt like an idiot for asking. You felt like an idiot for having to ask, but you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “My spirit. The one I came to you for.” It felt like your tongue was coated in salt and ask. “Was he one of the stronger spirits?”

A beat lapsed in silence, then another.

Finally, Suguru let out a long, raspy exhale and brought a hand to your stomach. “I hope it’s a girl,” he muttered, almost absent-mindedly. “I hope she looks just like you.”

You took a single, stilted breath.

When you met your daughter a few months later, impossibly tiny and infinitely lovable and so agonizingly helpless, it would almost be a relief to see Suguru’s face staring back at you.

“She has your eyes.”

You heard his voice before you saw his face, but you would’ve known Suguru from aura alone. You froze in the doorway of the unlit nursery, searching for him in the darkness, but Suguru didn’t make himself hard to find.

“Not the color, but the shape.” He was standing next to the cradle, a soft smile painted across his lips and your daughter in his arms. She was sleeping, and you were thankful for it. You’d kept Himari away from him as much as you’d been able to in the weeks leading up to your escape, but even their minimal exposure had seemed crushing, at the time. Above all else, you never wanted your daughter to be able to recognize her father’s face. “Oh, but she must have my temperament. I’ve heard she rarely cries, even with nuisances like Satoru around.”

You’d left your phone in the living room. Satoru wasn’t home and he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning, but maybe, if you screamed, someone would hear you. Maybe, you’d be able to run while Suguru tore them apart, limb by limb.

In the end, it was all you could do to make yourself speak – your voice thin and prone to catching in your throat. “Get out of my apartment.”

“But this isn’t your apartment, is it?” With a quiet, hushing sound, he lowered Himari back into her cradle and turned to face you. “Honestly, if I’d known you were just going to run into another man’s arms, I would’ve been more careful with you. I wonder if you’ll feel more loyal to your husband with a chain around your neck.”

“You manipulated me. You made me have a ba—”

“I loved you.” He cut you off with all the delicacy of a rusty knife sawing through flesh. “I do love you, even if I’m starting to question how much of it you deserve.”

He stepped forward. You wanted to turn away from him, to run, but your body was uncooperative, too rigid to do anything more than shake as he came to stand in front of you. “Can you say it back to me? Just this once.” He brought a hand to your cheek. “I’ll forgive you for everything, if you do.”

You tried to. Not for him, but for your daughter – made expendable by her failure to keep you bound to Suguru. You tried to, but all that slipped past your parted lips was a wordless cry, torn and anguished and far from what he’d asked for.

“No?” He feigned disappointment, letting out an airy sigh. “I guess that’s to be expected.”

He took a deep breath, then rested his head against the dip of your shoulder. His hand fell to your stomach as he spoke into your skin.

“Maybe, after we have our second, you’ll change your mind.”

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wroteclassicaly · 3 months

Text

18+

When your best-friend Steve Harrington asks you to hold his fleshlight for him.

It wasn’t really something that either of you planned on happening. But then it just did. Steve had been pent up from work all day from typical annoying patrons, smart mouthed jocks from the high school, that were freshmen when he was a senior (tenfold karma, Harrington), and Keith’s particular way of criticizing his every move out of some form of nerdy revenge. You could count on one hand the times that Steve had to bail out of your two person movie nights on Fridays (Saturdays were for dates and Sundays were for hanging with the rest of the parties and running kids around), and tonight happened to be one of those occurrences. Usually, it would be for self-care or whatever reason he needed to spend alone, but when he’d barely shed his leather jacket upon entering his house, dusting snow off of his boots — he was about to crawl out of his skin by the time his massive palm was wrapped around the receiver, thumb strangled by its cord.

He was… off? And seconds after he’d cancelled without much reason, the line went dead. You wanted to give him space, especially because he usually called back to tell you goodnight. But after being unable to sit still and finish a generous portion of the large pepperoni pizza you’d ordered the two of you, you were grabbing your keys for the journey over to his place.

~*~

It didn’t take but five minutes before you reached Steve’s house, pulling in behind his familiar car. You dangle the copy - made spare from your pointer finger, trekking your way up to the door and letting yourself in, wiping at your wind-whipped, wet eyes. You know he’s not on the first floor, its entirety dark and a little cool. So you toss your coat and keys onto the small table beside the entryway, kicking off your boots to join his on the cheesy welcome mat, and you make your way to the second floor landing to his bedroom. Seeing a buttery glow spill out from the crack in his doorway, you’d proceeded, only to be met with a sight that only appeared in your late night fantasies… and pretty much your every waking thought.

Steve is facing his mattress, sheets tousled and clothing pooled beside him, stood on the left side of his bed, naked and glistening in the perspiration of teasing, observing his massive length as he edges himself, moving the toy slowly over his cock. You know what it is, you’ve seen it in magazines and stores, in some porn. A fleshlight, they call it. Your brain goes through a million thoughts at a couple seconds to spare.

Why doesn’t he have someone here to do this with? He can get a date?

Is he okay? Obviously he’s very okay.

Holy fuck… he’s big.

Holy fuck… he’s beautiful.

A little more than usual, waiting on the summer sun to tan his freckle and mole spattered skin. His hair has grown longer, curling at the nape, his shoulder blades and biceps defined from a regular regime. And that ass, the way it flexes and is perfectly plump, connecting to those hairy thighs and big feet, his own toes curling when he twists, a wet squelch coming from the faux cunt. There’s beautiful chestnut curls scattered across him sternum and connecting to a trail that surrounds his base and those full, heavy, balls. That cock… thick, barely able to be pushed back into the toy, his fingers having to peel back its soft pink layers to help ease the slick way, decorated in a vein that matches the one running along his forearm

And you must make some sort of noise, because your lips part to let in a gasp of air, causing his body to twist in a sudden defensive stance, clenching the toy so tight with a ‘caught’ pose. You go to move and the door spills open completely, slamming back into his dresser and shaking old sports trophies. You’re panting, seeking out the words to apologize, Steve is wincing from how hard he still is, attempting to cover his modesty. But the air shifts in the room and you gain a boldness, a restlessness that won’t be satiated, nor a conscience satisfied if you don’t ask.

“Can I help you?” A customer service line from working at Scoops with him. But it comes naturally.

Steve, biting his lip, disheveled — he nods. And it’s happening. A tickling ease, a line crossed.

“C’mhere.” He’s waving with his opposite hand. His ribcage expands as he gulps in lungfuls of air.

You’re at his side shortly, shyly. “W-what do you need me to do?”

His spare hand pushes back through his hair, amber gaze gone to a midnight sky, teeth milky white, defined jawline covered in stubble, and a perfect nose. His voice is raspy when he lets you know what he needs.

“Go get on my bed, lay back for me. Please?”

A fucking gentleman.

All of your clothes feel too tight, smothering you as you lay back on his bed, his pillow immediately invading you. Your hands are unsure of where to go, but he approaches slowly, kneeling his way into kneeling by your feet. “I’m gonna… Can I use this between your legs, honey? You don’t have to do anything, just let me do all the work.” He motions to the toy and you want nothing more, suddenly offered the world.

It’s your turn to say it now. “C’mhere.”

He’s using that enriched tendon covered forearm to prop himself up beside of your head, slotting right between your knees, his remaining hand wrapped so tightly around the toy that his skin is pulled taunt over his knuckles. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, releases it, licks it, and then he’s asking, “Can I?”

“Go. Do what you need to do. I’m right here, Steve.”

If you thought the toy was loud before, the sound of him working his lengthy girth through its walls right in front of you now — it’s surround sound. You’re watching, unable to help it, bones threaten to be dusted to ash from how hard your heart is ramming beneath your breastbone.

“Wanted to come over, but it’s been a shit week, an even shitter day. And I just needed to —“

“— Release some tension, right? I get it, I do it too. I have a cock that goes… I —“ you stop your horny rambling, face feeling too much warmed.

Steve’s face scrunches, teeth gritting, and he twists the toy until slowing it almost completely. “Tell me what you do. You fuck yourself with it, right? When everything is too much and not enough? Fuck, honey.”

He doesn’t verbalize, but you don’t either, simply accept the toy and hold it against your denim covered cunt, leaving Steve’s hands free to hold on either side of you, his nose nudging yours as he leans down — here, present. You copy his earlier motions, using the toy to glide along his length as he thrusts into it with a new focussed vigor. “That’s it. You feel so good, honey. Workin’ me so right.”

“I’m soaking — fucking — wet for you, Steve. Just so you know.”

His hips stutter and his nose finds its way into your eyelashes, cheek pressing into your own. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum into this thing, and I want —“

“— You want what, Steve?” You hold your breath.

He answers without fear or pause. “You.”

// Eat me paragraph //

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tarjapearce · 11 months

Text

Bad Teachings

College Professor AU! Miguel O'Hara x reader

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Smut (I tried my best, I swear ;w;) Mildly dubious-con. Age gap implied

Hope you like 🥹✨

The last semester felt impossibly harder, nerve wrecking and it was as usual chipping away the little social life you had. Not that you had many friends really, mostly of the people you hung out with, were people that always ended either paired with you or gathered in group works.

Sure you were invited to parties here and there, but nothing too concrete.

But right now, none of it mattered, as you sat before your teacher, Peter B. Parker, at the verge of tears.

"Look, I know it seems like you'll fail, but you still have a chance." He was packing up his things and then looked your way. " I know you care for the other classes, but this one is also important. I just can't help you out this time."

"It was just one assignment! Mr. Parker. One! I had none to drive me out to that place."

"What about your friends?"

"Just... Please?, This is my last class, I can't afford another semester here."

Peter was one of the few lax teachers out there that would help out here and there when he was able to. One of your favorites actually, contrary to what people said, he was a good teacher.

"I know, I know, kid. Just let me see what I can do ok? Im not promising anything, but I can try. Mr. O'Hara isn't that bad."

You groaned hopelessly.

"God, Im so dead"

"He's not that bad. He's all bark and no bite, I'm telling you"

"Not to question your decisions, Mr. Parker but from all the teachers you could've picked, why Mr. O'Hara?"

"Not up to me kid, administration's doing. Besides, I'll be gone just a couple of weeks. You'll do fine. I'll speak to him, okay?"

You just nodded, hope hanging on a thread.

-------

You were fucked . In fact, you could already picture your parents' mortified expression upon the news and the student loan could only stretch up so far . Miguel O'Hara was... brutal.

He took no shit from anyone, he had 'zero chill' or so you had heard among the other students that barely passed with him. However, you were learning what you needed and wanted to learn. He was demanding, but a great teacher.

"He's hot." One of your classmates admitted as you were gathered in study groups to do an assignment due in a couple of hours.

"I heard he's married."

"No, he's not. No kids, nothing."

"I heard his daughter died."

"He doesn't like talking about that, Jen."

You subtly glanced at him, so ever stoic, frowning and serious, checking and grading assignments like nothing. He was intimidating overall. Everyone behaved and actually studied when he teached.

Class ended shortly after you finished the study group. However you waited a bit longer when everyone had been out to submit your group's part. And also, probably have a chance to ask about your class status.

The first thing you couldn't help but notice was how snug the button t-shirt was on him, your nose detected a tingle of his cologne, His hair was long yet well kept and silky looking. Hell, he probably had a better hair routine than you. His hands movements were smooth and swift, as if they had memorized a pattern. He stopped and looked up to you. For being a man on his early forties he looked younger.

A chill ran down your spine.

"Leave it there." He went back to scribbling notes and you obeyed.

"Mr. O'Hara?"

"Hm?"

You sighed quietly, fearful he might sense your fear.

"Sorry to bother you, Um... I was wondering if-" you swallowed as he looked back at you with a slight frown in his face

"If Mr. Parker left any extra work for me?"

His brow raised in confusion

"I haven't seen Mr. Parker in months, niña. I was just called two days ago to cover up his spot."

Shit.

"R-Right. Uh, I just asked since he said he would-"

"Help you out? Yeah, that's not happening."

"I know it's just another day for you when students come here and cry-"

"You're not crying, so that's a first."

Your cheeks burned a little at his odd praising, but also you were embarrassed overall. Your favorite teacher had definitely forgot about you.

"Just... hear me out. This is my last class, my last semester's weeks And I truly cannot afford to repeat the class."

"And that is my problem because?"

Your lips tightened and soon your eyes turned glossy, but still you were determined to see it through.

"It's just 5 points I need to keep my score and have my record approved."

"The class ain't over yet. Better keep it up."

"Mr. O'Hara, pl-"

"No."

"I will buy you empanadas?" He snorted

"See you next semester, kid. Close the door when you're out."

His no was pretty much definitive. Sighing you marched away from the classroom and closed the door. You didn't cry. That was something.

----

The following days you spent holed up in the library, roomie to loud and messy to be around as you prepared for the pre evaluation for the finals, occasionally you caught a glimpse of Miguel O'Hara, working as usual in his favorite corner, un bothered.

What truly was pissing you is that some of your teammates hadn't submitted their part of the job, wich was due tomorrow. The whole report was half done and still it was alot left to do. You were trying. And just when you felt anxiety began worming it's way in you, the seat across you was dragged open and no other than Mr. Miguel O'Hara sat before you.

He looked at you with a blank yet curious gaze.

"You look like you're about to have a nervous wreck."

"I am."

"Right, here." He showed you a printed paper, "Meet me there, at 6. Don't make plans."

"What?" you squinted your eyes to read the information

"Thought you wanted help?" Exasperated at your obliviousness he huffed, "Guess not"

"Wait!" you snatched the paper out of his hands, "Sorry. Just.. Thank you" he smirked.

Your eyes lit up upon reading the paper and nodded. If it wasn't for you being so tired, and him being scary, you'd probably hug him.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" You spoke in between whispers.

"Si si, cállate. Look, it's a conference college is organizing, in a week, if you want those five extra, go. I'll be there. Don't make plans."

"Funny you think I have a social life, Mr. O'Hara. But thanks. I really appreciate it."

"At 6. Formal dress code."

"Gotcha." you nodded as you grinned. He left you alone.

----

You'd look like a liar if he saw you, a cocktail in your hand, chatting to a classmate that was nice enough talk to. It was a small celebration for a good score in the past assignment, you could breath a little, feel a bit hopeful.

"Did you saw Mr. O'Hara today? God..." the girl almost moaned in the spot.

"You kidding? He doesn't fuck his students."

"Who knows, I might be the first?"

"In getting reported maybe. Dude is scary. A friend of mine repeated twice with him."

"What about you, (Name)? I saw you in the library chatting with him."

The whole attention suddenly dropped on you.

"Ah, yeah he told me he'd see me next semester"

"Shut up. You're failing too?"

"Yeah. I mean, sure he's hot and stuff, but... yeah. I don't know how to tell my parents actually. Add me to the chat group, by the way"

Before the conversation turned into how half female college students wanted him, your classmate took you to another private spot. Mike Aguilar was his name, someone that like you, avoided unnecessary attention. What you didn't expect was that he stole a kiss from you. Between cocktails and making out with Mike for a long time, the loud music, it felt good. Felt good to experience the other side of broke colege student.

You ended up being taken to your room, railed up but Mike was gentleman enough to not indulge since you both were drunk. How long had been since someone actually indulged you? Even more so, that you had indulged yourself? You removed your pants.

You were alone, but locked up the door, and grabbed your phone. Looking up in the group chat you looked for Mike's contact and typed.

"Hey Miky"

He replied almost instantly

"Sup, hlt stuff?" He didn't care for the typos

"Wanna see aumthin?"

"*Something"

You giggled as he send a "🥴" emoji.

Biting your lip, you put the phone in a pillow and began recording. Hands trailing on your clothed breasts as you sat down and spreaded your legs. One of your hands dipped inside your panties as the other one uncovered your breast to then squeeze and toy with one.

Your mouth had shaped in an 'o' as you bucked your hips to ride slowly your own hand. Your moans were needy and they turned more wanton as you kept toying with your nipples and clit, soon gasping for air, coming undone.

You then brought your slicked fingers to your mouth and licked them clean with a groan. You then giggled and stopped recording. The alcohol buzzed fully in your system, not only clouding your judgment, but also firing up a dirty mind.

"For your eyes only"

You uploaded the video and pressed send.

Tossing the phone on your nightstand, you went back to keep indulging in yourself before your roomie could get back. But this time, you had in mind a very specific scary teacher to think about.

----

The constant beeping in your phone bolted you awake. You turned off the alarm and saw your phone. Your eyes went wide awake as dread crept up to you.

"So... What was that you wanted to show me?"

Oh no.

Panic surged through your body as seeing Mr. O'Hara's chat open with a 'video' description. Shaky fingers opened it up, only to reveal the 'seen' mark in the chat.

OH NO.

-----

Against all odds and what could go wrong, you showed up in class. Sure, sending a porn video of yourself to your scary teacher was a major fuck up. But failing class would be even a bigger fuck up of all times, You had one foot outside of it all. Once out of college you wouldn't see Mr. O'Hara, and eventually he'd forget it all. Besides, you were pretty sure that he'd receive that kind of messages on a daily basis.

Sighing, you entered the classroom and as quietly as you could you sat in the very back of it. Class went as normal as you could, but the feeling of being watched was always present. Thankfully class was over and just as you snuck to get in, you snuck out.

You couldn't look at him in the face, not after what you had done in that video. Another reason of why you didn't drink often. But now a new problem laid ahead. How would you face him on Saturday?

Talking about, you didn't even know what to wear. Maybe the universe was conspiring against you, but you were grateful enough that he didn't bring it up, maybe he didn't pay much attention. There were so many scenarios running your mind.

----

In the end, you wrote an apology. It was easier to just apologize without seeing his face, and maybe things would be buried and forgotten as days passed.

But no. He had requested to see you after class.

As you approached you squeezed the written apologize and sighed once you were before his desk, across him.

"I need you to sign here, to confirm your assistance tomorrow."

You gulped and took the pen, after sliding the letter to him. He cocked an eyebrow to you as you signed.

"What's this?" He took the crumpled paper and opened it up. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see, amusement in them. A knowing look seizing you.

"I'm so so sorry. The... The video I mean. It wasn't for you, I swear! But I was-"

"Drunk and stupid? Yeah. Noted." He tossed the letter in the trashbin and stood with his arms on his waist, "I thought you were better than that, (Name)"

Your eyes glossed over the disappointment in his tone.

"Has anyone else seen it?"

You shook your head.

His eyes glinted with something dark, something you couldn't actually pinpoint and to be honest you were too embarrassed to ask.

"Good. Anyway, 6 pm. Austen's Auditorium"

"T-That far?"

"Have a problem?"

"Uh, no. I'll be there. I'll call an Uber."

"I'll drive you."

"What? No! I mean, no. I'm uncomfortable enough as it is. Don't wanna make this even more awkward."

"Trust me, nothing that I haven't seen before, unfortunately."

"Yeah, no. I'll call an Uber. I'm financially fucked anyways. Thanks" His pupils dilated so ever softly at the way your lips muttered the word fucked. His face remained steely as usual, but his eyes gave away so much.

"Whatever. Meet me in the last row, second seat, then."

------

You showed up, high waisted, tight, black, upper knee length skirt with a small slit on the side, a cream colored blouse with matching bra and a black blazer with nude heels. It was the standar, and the only truly formal wear you had in your closet. Uber drove you to the venue and soon, you met Miguel and sat next to him. You could recognize some other students along some other teachers from other areas. Conference was about the new ways of teaching and learning, nothing too groundbreaking as you had originally thought.

The conference was two hours long and at the end, you signed up a paper sheet and was told to wait on the entrance as Miguel greeted and signed out.

"Let's go."

Miguel guided you by placing a hand on your lower back, and gave a gentle push for you to follow him.

"Car's on the third floor"

"I told you that I could get an Uber."

"And risk you to be kidnapped or something? Not a chance. Besides I wanna keep my job as much as I can."

"Gee, thanks for caring, Mr. O'Hara."

"Todo un placer, preciosa." He chuckled

Your knees trembled as he spoke in spanish, you were sat on the front seat and fastened your seatbelt. He started the engine but it just revved a couple of times before it went dead. And just when you thought nothing could go wrong, it started pouring. Hard.

"Shit."

You groaned in frustration and Miguel smirked.

"Why the rush? Have somewhere to go?"

"No, Mr. O'Hara. Just wanted to rest. I'm not used to wear heels actually."

"Thought you were meeting with that guy you were making out the other night"

Your eyes widened in utter embarrassment as he stretched in his seat.

"Jesus... this can't be even more embarrassing."

"As your teacher, I completely disapprove such behaviors. Specially with that cabrón. He's not a good person."

"What do you mean?"

"He's conditioned. Likes to spread out intimate content of girls he gets."

"How do you know this?"

"I told you, nothing I haven't seen before."

You sank in your seat, mulling over his words.

"Hate to admit but... Im kinda glad knowing this. I mean, I'm really embarrassed though, but-"

"You're glad that little video fell onto my hands and not someone else?"

You nodded, unable to look at him as your face flushed.

"Yes, what?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Must admit though." His hands on the wheel tightened. "It took me by surprise. Out of all the female students, you, did a whole show."

You gulped as your breath hitched. His eyes squinted and that dark tingle was back at it again

"Hands in those cute ass panties, riding your hand like it was the last thing you'd ever ride."

His hand pulled his hair back as he bit his lip so ever softly. You on the other hand were trembling, unable to look at him in the eye.

"Who were you thinking of?"

"N-None. I swear. This is... really really bad"

"Maybe, but so is sending really explicit videos to your teacher, preciosa."

You shut your mouth and looked at him, he leaned in and studied your face. His index and thumb taking your chin.

"You're trembling. Why? A pretty thing like you shouldn't fear me. I'm not gonna hurt you. Quite the opposite actually." His thumb caressed your cheek and his lips brushed over yours.

"I wanna make you feel as good as you did in that video." He kissed your cheek and bit softly at your earlobe earning a shudder. It was like if another person had took over him.

"Can I? You want me to make you feel good, muñeca?"

He was overwhelming your senses, then you felt him unbuttoning your shirt. You nodded.

"W-Wait... what if someone sees us?"

Miguel unbuckled your seat belt and pulled you for a deep kiss. Moaning, your hands raked down his chest, stopping at his belt.

"Don't worry on it. It's fucking pouring outside." He riled up your skirt up, exposing the fabric of your panties. His lips went to your neck and kissed a soft trail as his fingers dipped between clothed folds, earning a whimper. His free hand managed to pull out one of your breast and then rolled his tongue over it.

"So sensitive" His fingers rubbed in slow circles your little flesh mount. He took a moment to pull one of the windows two inches down, enough for air to seep in.

"Spread those legs for me, preciosa. Lemme see that pretty pussy." Your hips accommodated as your skirt was pushed upwards, he then removed your panties and smiled.

"Sit on the back seat. Can't taste you properly like that." With trembling hands you moved on the back leathery wide seat as he moved the front ones forward, leaving more space in the back. He removed his blazer and his tie. Your heels long forgotten in the front seat. He seemed like a caged animal in a tiny space, and you a small snack for him.

His hands kneaded the supple flesh of your thighs, you removed the blazer and soon he finished unbuttoning your shirt, your bra was unclasped, spilling your breast freely. He groaned and kissed you once more. In your haste you unbuckled his belt but he stopped you.

"Are you on contraceptives?"

His fingers spreaded your legs further, exposing your slick flesh. You just nodded dumbly.

"No habrá problema entonces." He muttered more to himself than anyone as he bend over, one of your thighs dangled in his left shoulder as he brought your slit closer to his mouth.

He did a small cross blessing on himself and a little prayer and licked his lips.

"We've got to be grateful for this meal." His tongue went flat against your slit and dragged it up. Your toes curled up and you groaned.

"Mira qué lindo coño tienes, mi amor." His lips focused in the little bundle of nerves, giving it soft suckles, kisses as his tongue dribbled in your inner folds.

"Podría comerte todo el día" He mumbled as he gave feathery bites on your plush flesh. His hands held your thighs, you were too enraptured in pleasure to mumble a coherent word. Instead your hands latched at his head softly and applied pressure only when he grew closer to that very sweet spot.

His tongue lapped up and soon his whole mouth disappeared between your folds. The obscene sound of his mouth working made your spine arch. He held you in place as his face kept buried between your legs. Your breath hitched as your body went taut. He switched in between devouring your clit and fucking you with his tongue.

"Y-Yes!" You hissed as searing pleasure crashed hard. Your toes curled in, and your body trembled, coming undone on his mouth. He made sure to clean you up before releasing your flesh with a wet pop. You pulled him for a kiss as the rain kept hitting the car, drowning any sound.

"Such a pretty and naughty baby." He cooed as he tied your hands behind your back with his neck tie, then pulled his pants down his knees and brought your knees close to your shoulders, exposing once more your puffed and wet cunt.

"Sending videos for me to watch" He pumped himself a couple of times before rubbing his flushed tip in your sopping folds. You moaned as he entered you slowly, feeling the good stretch of his cock in your walls and gasped.

Hearing your classmates talking about the possibilities of what Mr. O'Hara had between his legs was nothing compared to actually experiencing it as it dug deeper in your guts.

You gave a shaky whimper at how full you felt, and he was barely starting. You could only watch as his girth disappeared between your folds with ease.

"You're so tight, princesa." He kissed your temple, as you choked on a thrust he gave, shaking your whole body.

"Wanna be a good girl for me?" Nodding you groaned as he tangled one of his hands on your front bangs and held you still, to then ram his hips against yours. It earned him a sweet wail from you. He closed his eyes for a second, relishing at your warmth and tighteness

"So fucking good. Will give you a lil' present before you graduate." His hips slapped shamelessly and viciously, leaving you with little room to breathe properly. Your hands desperately trying to hold onto something

"Gonna miss you and this pussy when you're gone, you know that?" His voice rumbled through his chest between heavy pants and soft growls.

You were too cock drunk to actually speak, the lack of air was making you dizzy, soon you felt like a zombie, just grunting and moaning as his body crushed you, over and over, almost fucking you in to the seat. Miguel O'Hara was anything but gentle, in all sense of the word. The car shook softly and soon, you gritted your teeth as the pressure in your lower belly increased until you came on his cock. Gushing and clamping down hard.

Your body shook, and he cupped your cheeks, smiling at the debauched look on your face as you came, proud of himself. Your hands had numbed out, but he then untied them.

"Such a messy baby." His hips didn't stop, one of his hands snaked it's way to your neck and squeezed.

Your hands found a little strength to cling to his arm, his eyes never left you.

"Give me another one, mi amor"

He cooed as his hips fucked you silly, tears piling up at the corner of your eyes, overstimulation making a mess out of your senses. Your nails scratched his wrist as his thrust turned erratic, sloppier and finally he came as he cradled your limp body closer to his.

It was almost possessive. You gave a pathetic cry as you came with him. He kissed you softly and laid you gently.

He then pulled one of the windows down another couple of inches, letting air to refresh your burning body.

Your clothes were soiled, except for the blazer, the rest was drenched in sweat or covered in fluids. The good thing was that rain could cover up all evidence.

He looked at you in awe and pride.

----

"You look lovely in this one."

Mr. O'Hara's chat was opened, revealing a picture of you sucking his cock in his classroom with your graduation gown, looking at him with doe-like eyes.

"Thanks. You taste great, btw." You typed back, with a smirk

"Call me, Miguel, preciosa. I'm not your teacher anymore."

-----

Si si, cállate — "Yeah, yeah, shut up"

Todo un placer, preciosa - "My pleasure, gorgeous"

cabrón— Fucker

muñeca- Doll

No habrá problema entonces- "No problem then"

Mira qué lindo coño tienes, mi amor- "You have a pretty pussy, my love"

Podría comerte todo el día- "I could eat you all day"

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader

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donatellawritings · 2 months

Note

hiii mamita!! first off i wanna say i love ur writing and characterization SO MUCH!! ur my absolute fav latina representation in this fandom and im sending u sososo much love <3 secondly, could we pretty pls have rafe w latina reader who’s constantly using spanish around him and he eventually understands her enough to get some things but doesn’t say anything until she says something slick one day under her breath and he calls her out so she’s like oops🫢🫢🤭

tysm for the kind words, angel <3

this is so bff!rafe coded …

rafe was an obsessively busy man — the poor guy just had to keep himself occupied, or he’d find himself slipping off into the deep end. so, he never actually took the time to learn spanish, but he had a pretty basic understanding of the language, solely thanks to the fact that he spent most, if not, all of his free time around you, listening to your jumbled rants. and it was clear to him which words were profane and insulting, by the way you’d huff and roll your eyes whenever they rolled off of your tongue.

you see, rafe was fully aware of your bitchy side and how your sweet and delicate demeanor could quickly flip into a bratty and entitled state, especially when you didn’t get what you want — which just so happened to be your current dilemma with rafe.

it was simple — you wanted to soak up some sun in your brand new frankie’s bikinis two-piece, while your bossy best friend, rafe was adamant about going to the country club to catch up with topper and kelce, over a glass of whiskey.

lifting your miu miu sunglasses to sit atop of your shiny blown out hair, you leaned your head back against the cushion of your lounger, the sun deliciously biting your bronze skin, “pendejo,” you mumbled, rolling your bambi eyes as rafe began to walk away from where you reclined.

stopping dead in his tracks, rafe cocks his buzzed head to the side, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, “the fuck did y’just say to me?” he spoke, his voice low as he approaches you with quick and long strides, before yanking you up to your feet by your elbow.

with pouted lips, you kept your eyes away from rafe’s, “i didn’t say anyth—”

letting out an unamused chuckle, rafe grabs your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his, “y’lucky i don’t break y’fuckin jaw,” he warns, harshly releasing your face from his tight grip as he watches your eyes well with tears, “don’t start that cryin’ shit — fuckin’ kid,” he spits, balling his fists at his side for a brief moment, before opening his hands, muttering under his breath as he walks away from you.

furiously knuckling away the tears that threatened to spill down your flushed cheeks, you keep your head down, a wobbly pout on your swollen lips.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

rafe didn’t go to the country club that afternoon. and you sat by the pool for about an hour, mindlessly splashing your french pedicured feet in the light blue pool water — you hated when rafe was upset, more so when you were the reason for his anger. but, you also knew how volatile and impulsive the son of ward could become, so you decided to wait it out for as long as you could.

rising to your feet, wet footprints stained the pavement as you padded towards the door, you eyes sparkling with shock as rafe walked through the door, “what are y’still doin’ here?” he questions blankly, monotone and all as he brushes past you, shoulders tense and jaw locked.

ignoring the way your tummy swirled and churned with disappointment, you exhaled sharply through your button nose, deciding to force yourself to be unfazed by rafe’s harsh words, “i don’t like when you’re mad at me,” you whine, dragging yourself where rafe sat, legs spread and a sweaty bottle of cold beer in hand.

taking a quick swig of the beer, rafe shrugs, “and i don’t like when y’get a smart fuckin’ mouth with me, just because y’wanna be a spoiled fuckin’ kid,” he counters sharply, setting the beer down beside his foot.

you really pissed him off.

nodding your head, you quietly brought yourself to straddle your best friend’s hips, noticing the way he licked over his lips, before pressing them into a tight line, “can i give you a besito? i’m really sorry, rafey,” you sighed, batting your cutesy lashes as your softly brought your nails to scratch at rafe’s abdomen.

remaining silent, rafe earned a playful eye roll from you as you leaned your tits into his chest, pressing your full lips into his structured cheek with quick pecks, “i - mwah - am - mwah - sorry - mwah - papito,” you giggled between kisses, sealing your apologies with a stolen kiss to rafe’s lips.

craning his neck back to get a better look at you, your skin all bronzy and dewy from your earlier suntan, rafe raises his eyebrows, “papito? that’s a new one,” he comments, raising a hand to rest on your the sweaty skin of your lower back.

with wide doe eyes and parted lips, you gasp, “you like it?!”

letting out a defeated sigh, rafe pulls you in by the back of your neck to press a kiss to the top of your warm hair, “yeah, s’cute, kid.”

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #bff!rafe

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onsomenewsht · 28 days

Text

Helpless to the bass and faded light

About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking

》 Leah Williamson x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said

You don’t like football.

It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.

Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.

Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.

You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.

The things you do to make your parents proud.

How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.

“Pretty please, just this one”

“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.

You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.

“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.

The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.

Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.

“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”

She can.

“It’s a really important game, my love”

“For who?”

“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.

“I barely bear you playing”

“You love watching me play”

“I love you, period”

Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.

It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.

What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.

The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.

When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.

You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.

The things you do to make your lover happy.

“You know I love you, right?”

“You better never forget this”, you quip back.

The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.

She doesn’t need to know though, you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.

“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”

Nice try, you will not.

“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”

“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.

Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, its progress.

Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.

They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.

You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.

The one thing you all have in common.

“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”

Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.

“He sounds like an incredible father”

“Football obsession aside, he was good”

When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.

The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.

Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.

The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.

You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.

“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.

Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.

When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.

At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.

Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.

You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.

fine.

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #lw6 #woso #here we are #short and sweet #i hope you enjoy it #my wo(rd)so

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mvybanks · 1 year

Text

you drew stars around my scars

summary: when your boyfriend leaves you after finding out about your pregnancy, your best friend is not scared to take his place and show you how you and your baby deserve to be loved. (bestfriend!jj x pregnant!reader)

a/n: SHES HERE!!! i know that technically it wasn’t requested but by all of the asks i’ve gotten on this particular storyline, i had to! you guys have no idea how many times i had to do a research about pregnancy, i had to delete my google history😫 anyway, there’s a quote from friends from when rachel was pregnant AND the whole birth scene is just rachel giving birth because i have no idea how that works and friends was my only solution. i hope you guys like it!!! feedback is really appreciated <33

warnings: toxic and abusive ex, unwanted pregnancy, ANGST, mentions of sex (sfw), making out, reader goes into labour and gives birth (natural)

word count: 9.9k (i’m dead help)

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“i’m pregnant,” the conversation keeps replaying in your head, mocking you.

his voice is still clear in your mind, his laugh, so full of venom, “you can’t be pregnant.”

“i am, nathan. i took like ten tests, they’re all positive.”

and that look he gave you, as if you were scum, “that’s not my problem. you should’ve been more careful!” he yelled, starting to scare you.

“i didn’t mean this to happen. listen, we can-“

“there’s no we, no us!” the glass he had in his hand shattered on the wall beside you, for he had thrown it with force; had he tried to hit you?

“you’re not gonna trap me with a kid.”

“trap you? nathan, this is also your kid! it takes two people to-“ your words were cut off by the sound of a plate being thrown on the wall behind you, and that time you were sure you had been his target. when you looked at him, he was not the man you had thought he was. although you didn’t show it, you were terrified, and you still are, because you didn’t know where and when he would’ve stopped. you walked to your bedroom and started gathering the things he used to leave at your apartment.

“y/n, wait. i didn’t mean to do that. just-“ you began throwing his clothes at him, interrupting the empty promises he was about to made.

“you don’t want this kid? then leave!” you scream.

“i always knew you were just a bitch! should’ve left you months ago!”

“leave!” you shouted, taking the framed picture of the two of you from the coffee table and throwing it at the door as he closed it behind him.

your empty chest squeezes every time you catch a glimpse of the mess littering your floor and the reminder of what he was about to do because of his unjustified anger.

you fall on the ground, your back pressed against the wall behind you as loud sobs escape from your lips. tears are now falling down to your neck, drenching your eyelashes and your face. your hand shakily reaches for the phone that rests in your front pocket, pressing the contact for the only person you want to see right now.

“hey, y/n,” the melody of jj’s voice already brings you comfort, “what’s up?”

“j…” your trembling tone and the sound of your crying is now clear to him as he becomes scared of your well-being, which makes him interrupt you before you can continue.

“y/n? baby? what’s going on? where are you?”

as usual, the nickname makes butterfly erupt in your stomach, even in the state you’re in right now. however, what really warms your heart is the jingling of keys, already working his way outside his house just to get to you.

“i-i’m home. p-p-please, come h-here.”

“i’ll be there in five seconds, baby, okay?”

you hang up, too exhausted to answer as the last bit of strength you have left is currently being used to dehydrate your body since your tears seem to never stop.

when you hear the rumbling of his bike from outside, you finally take a deep breath, although it’s still hard to breathe between your sobs. you thank yourself for always having a spare key, which only jj knows about and where it’s hidden.

as soon as he enters the home, nervously looking for you, his face drops, horror is written all over his features as he looks at the sight before him: broken pieces of glass and ceramic are littering the ground, clothes are thrown on the couch and right on the front door, a picture on the floor that shows both you and your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend, but to jj that wasn’t a given yet.

his eyes finally found your shaking figure and he runs to you, anger and concern are the only emotions on his face as he crouches down in front of you.

“tell me he didn’t hurt you. tell me he didn’t throw this stuff at you because i swear to god i’m gonna kill him,” and you believe him.

perhaps you wouldn’t have if it was a different situation, but the look in his eyes clearly tells you that he’s about to commit murder if you don’t stop him.

“baby, please, talk to me. i just need to know that you’re okay, i need to know you’re not hurt,” he pleads, but your breathing gets harder the more you think about the bomb you’re about to drop.

“he didn’t hurt me,” you whisper softly, your crying finally calms down for a second.

“what happened?”

you look into his beautiful eyes, the same ones that never judged you and only ever gazed at you with so much affection and admiration, “i’m pregnant.”

even saying the words brings you to tears again as jj tries to calm himself down from the shock. his best friend, the woman he has loved for as long as he can remember, is pregnant…with another man’s child. he’s hurting, but he knows that it’s not about him and his stupid feelings right now.

“wha-whe- is it nathan’s?” he’s so shaken up by your confession he can barely make out a coherent sentence, but his question is a genuine one.

the annoyed look in your eyes tells him that it was a stupid question on his part, ‘whose would it be?’ your expression says.

“he left, j. he left me. he-” you stop yourself before you can tell him what he did, “he didn’t want us,” you simply say.

now he understands. he wants to kill him. he can’t believe he would do this to you, he knew he was a douchebag who didn’t deserve you, but this? this is low even for him.

jj wraps his arms tightly around your body, sitting on the floor next to you as he shifts in order to let you rest your head against his chest. he gently shushes your sobs as he rocks your body, bending his neck to press his lips on your forehead.

“it’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay, sunshine. i got you. we’ll figure this out, ” he whispers, reassuring and reminding you of his presence.

the name he used to call you when you were just two teenagers brings a whole different sentiment grow in your chest as you finally feel safe.

you hold onto his t-shirt for dear life while your sobs finally seem to die down.

“don’t go, please,” you murmur against the cotton of his shirt and he swears his heart breaks.

jj cradles your face in his hands, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs as they get rid of your tears, and he stares into your eyes, an intense and strange look in his, “never. i’ll never leave you, you understand? i’m right here.”

the rawness and honesty in his voice makes you let out another soft sob and he kisses your head again.

“listen to me,” he says once his eyes are fixed on yours, “i’ll be here for everything, okay? i won’t let you go through all of this alone. it’s you and me.”

you nod slowly, your head still in his hands, “you and me.”

jj has been your rock since you were just a couple of kids, of troublemakers running around the cut hand in hand. you don’t remember one time in your life where he wasn’t there, protecting you from everything that’s wrong in the world and holding you when things got tough.

and even in this new and complicated situation, one neither of you have ever been in, he doesn’t hesitate to step up and do what he does best: taking care of you.

once you don’t have any tears left in you, he watches as you relax against him, your arms around him as he keeps rocking you. jj lifts your body from the ground and brings you to bed, laying you on the mattress. he gently throws a blanket on your sleeping body before bending down to kiss your forehead.

when he goes to leave the room, the sound of your voice stops him, “where you going?”

“i’ll stay here, don’t worry. i was going to sleep on the couch,” he smiles, reassuring you that he’ll be here for you in the morning.

“can you stay…here?” your voice is weak and sleepy, and he can’t say no to you.

“of course, sunshine.”

he lies next to you and you immediately go to rest your head on his chest, while his arms wrap around you, protecting you for as long as he can. one hand starts smoothing your hair out of your face, while the other is firmly hugging your waist.

“j,” you call him, so softly he almost doesn’t hear you, “i’m scared.”

he tightly shuts his eyes and kisses your head again, his lips lingering on your skin a little too long, “i know; i know, sunshine, but i’m not going anywhere, okay? you’re gonna have to kick me out if you want me to stay away.”

you chuckle and nuzzle your head further in his neck, inhaling the perfume of cheap cologne that brings you so much comfort, “thank you.”

the next morning, you find yourself in an empty bed, no sign of jj. the thought of him leaving you too begins to crawl inside you, mixed with fear and disappointment. you can hear the soft sound of your old tv playing in the living room, you didn’t leave it on, did you?

you slowly walk to your kitchen, an open space with the living room, and there he is, your favorite person in the whole world standing in front of a cooking pan while humming a song to himself.

“g’morning,” you mumble, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you walk closer to him.

“good morning, sunshine,” he smiles at you, “i was making you breakfast.”

you grin at him; how stupid of you to think he would ever leave you.

your eyes scan the room as a frown starts to form on your face, “did you clean the mess from last night?”

he turns to you and nervously rubs the back of his head, “oh - uhm, yeah. there was glass everywhere, didn’t want you to get hurt, y’know.”

your feet take you to where he’s standing and your arms circle around his torso, resting your head against his chest. at first he’s startled by the sudden affection, but he recovers quickly, holding you close to him. you’re enjoying the comforting feeling of being in his arms when the smell of the eggs he’s cooking hits you, making you scrunch your nose.

suddenly, you feel an upsetting sensation in your stomach and you soon realize that your baby doesn’t agree with eggs.

“oh shit,” you say as you unwrap yourself from him and all but run to the bathroom, leaving a very confused jj behind you.

however, the sound of you being sick makes him move to the bathroom’s open door. you’re kneeling in front of the toilet, throwing up as you try to hold your hair back. jj immediately kneels behind you and wraps his hand around your hair while his other hand strokes your back.

when you’re done, you let yourself fall with your back against the bathtub while he follows you, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“what was that about?” he asks softly, “did you eat something bad last night?”

you chuckle, “morning sickness, j. gonna have to do this for a while.”

“you’re telling me you’re gonna throw up every morning?”

your hand plays with his shirt as your head finds a comfortable position against his chest, “i started having it a week ago and i did some research, it should last at least two months,” you sigh, “anyway, i’m going to the doctor this afternoon and i’ll ask her about it, just to make sure.”

“i’m coming with you,” he says, holding you tighter.

“j, you don’t have to,” although the smile on your face says otherwise.

his lips press against your forehead, “i told you, i won’t let you go through this alone.”

he keeps his promise, like always. that same afternoon he picks you up and brings you to the doctor’s office. when you’re ready for your exam, the doctor tells him that he can come into the room as your private parts are covered.

jj sits next to you as the gynecologist squeezes a cold substance on your stomach, prepping you for your sonogram.

“so,” she starts, eyeing the man beside you, “you are…?”

“i’m her best friend; jj, ma’am,” jj says, showing her a polite grin.

“well, nice to meet you. are you ready, y/n?”

you nervously smile at her, “yeah, i am.”

the gynecologist begins the sonogram and the sound of a pulse starts filling the room, “this is your baby’s heartbeat,” she smiles and you unconsciously grab jj’s hand, his fingers intertwining with yours immediately, “and this,” she points to a bunch of black and white lines, “this is your baby.”

a laugh full of disbelief escapes your lips and jj’s eyes fall on your face, admiring you.

“i’ll leave you alone for a couple of minutes, okay?” the doctor says before leaving the room.

he brings your joined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles, “you okay, sunshine?”

your eyes are full of tears when you answer him, “thank you for coming with me.”

“i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

jj maybank isn’t known for being responsible, for owning up to his mistakes, or for making the smartest decisions, but when it comes to you? he’d give up everything just to get you to show him that beautiful smile of yours that makes his insides churn up and his heart flutter in his chest.

therefore, when he finds out you’re going to tell your parents about the pregnancy, he doesn’t leave your side, just like he promised. he might be unreliable to anyone else that knows him, but to you he’s always been the only person you can count on.

his hand is squeezing yours as you both look at your parents’ reaction after finding out about your situation.

“is it his?” your father asks, pointing at jj.

“no, it’s nathan’s. he - uhm,” jj rubs his thumb on the back of your hand, comforting you, “he left.”

“oh, come here,” your mom walks to you, taking you in her arms and your dad does the same not long after.

“jj, don’t take this wrong way, son, but what are you doing here?” your father asks, confusion written all over his face.

your parents have known jj since forever, just like you, and they both know how much you care for each other. it’s not a secret they’ve been waiting for you and him to get together, but no one dares to say it out loud.

“she’s a strong woman, sir, i know she could do this alone but i don’t want her to. so i’ll be by her side as long as she’ll have me.”

your dad nods at him while your mom goes to give him a hug too, taking him by surprise.

after spending the rest of the day at your parents’, jj takes you home. it’s been a couple of days since your boyfriend left you and although you’re still hurt by what he’s done, every time you walk into your house and remember that he’s not there, a sense of relief washes over you.

before jj can go back to his apartment, he stops at the front door, the question eating him alive for days. he calls your name, bringing your attention to him, “listen, i don’t want you to talk about it if you aren’t ready but…what happened the other night? i - i keep thinking about the mess on the floor and it’s haunting me.”

you walk to him, resting your hands on his chest, “promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

his eyes look into yours, “i can’t promise you that,” his low and raspy voice makes your stomach flip.

“j…i don’t want you to get hurt.”

“what did he do?”

you lick your lips, slowly gnawing on the bottom one, “he threw some things,” you swallow thickly.

“at you?”

“jj, please-“

“just answer the question,” his eyes are full of rage and you don’t know what he’s going to do once he gets to know the truth, but you’re too far into the story to lie now.

“yes. he missed…twice. i - i think he was drunk, that’s the only explanation i have. he had never done something like this before.”

the look in his eyes is scaring you, not because you fear him, but because you fear what he might do. he protects you; that’s what he’s always done for you and knowing that he couldn’t do that when nathan was with you is killing him.

“j?” you ask as he still hasn’t said anything.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

your arm wraps around his bicep, stopping him, “you don’t have to do this. i’m okay.”

“because his aim is shit! that’s why you’re okay!” he all but shouts, “i’m just going to make sure he doesn’t have the chance to do it again.”

you place the hand that isn’t stopping him on his cheek, cradling his face and forcing his gaze on you, “i don’t like this,” you whisper, your faces closer than you had realized before.

his eyes finally soften; he slowly wraps his fingers around your wrist, that was brushing against his chin, and gently places a kiss on it, then on your palm, “he’ll get what he deserves,” he rasps as his forehead falls on yours, your noses brushing against each other.

“just -“ you sigh, your breath hitting his mouth, and he swears his heart skips a beat at the feeling, “be careful.”

he uses all of his self-control to not kiss your mouth until you can’t breathe anymore, but he can’t help himself from kissing the tip of your nose and then your forehead, “i will,” he reassures you.

when he shows up at your door the morning after, you don’t ask questions. the split lip, the purple bruise around his eye and the bandages around his hand are everything you need to know. he doesn’t tell you what happened and if you want to be honest, you don’t really want to know, so luckily, that was the last time either of you brought the subject up.

everyday, jj is there for you, holding your hair up when you’re sick and bringing you all the weird foods you start craving. when he said he wasn’t going to leave you, he meant it. he picks up all your calls immediately, even if it’s in the middle of the night.

“hey, sunshine,” he answers his phone, one night. he checks the time on the clock sitting on his bedside table: 3 a.m.

you’re already in your third month of pregnancy, so it’s been roughly a month since you found out. it has now become almost a habit for you to call him when you have a craving, therefore he doesn’t worry anymore when you call him so late at night.

“hey…this is going to sound weird,” you say, clearly nervous.

“what’s up?”

“i really, really want cookie dough ice cream…and popcorn.”

a moment passes before he answers, the sound of him moving some things around does not go unnoticed by you, “okay, i’ve got popcorn at my place. i can see if i can find an open gas station? for the ice cream, i mean.”

you smile, “you’re the best, you know that?”

“i know, but i love it when you say it.”

your cheeks turn cherry red, “text me when you’re coming, ‘kay?”

“sure, sunshine. don’t worry ‘bout me.”

the thing that still takes you aback is the lack of hesitation whenever you ask something; no one has ever treated you like this, except him but something feels different this time.

“my hero!” you say in a theatrical manner when jj enters your bedroom, a bag of popcorn in one hand and a small tub of ice cream in the other.

“gotta save the princess in distress,” he smirks before handing you the goods and leaving the room again, “i’ll get you a spoon.”

he holds you close to his chest for the rest of the night, almost lying to himself that this could be a habit for the rest of your lives.

you can’t deny how much you want this too, and your pregnancy hormones are making it even harder to resist him.

“oh, c’mon! it’s impossible nothing’s happened between you two yet!”

your friend, mar, is currently trying to make you talk about your ‘secret affair’ with jj, which doesn’t exist, but she keeps insisting it does.

you’ve been hanging out with her a lot more these past few months since she also has a baby, and you’re desperate for advices from someone who has already been through this.

“i swear, mar! why would something happen?”

“because he’s hot and he’s been head over heels for you since forever?”

you chuckle, before taking a sip of the water in front of you. you’re sitting at a café, hoping no one is listening to your conversation, “yeah, sure.”

she looks at you, cocking an eyebrow, “don’t tell me you don’t know. you really think he’s not in love with you?”

you shrug, “yeah, ‘cause he’s not. he’s my best friend, that’s it.”

“you’re telling me you’ve never, even once, looked at him in a different way? not even in a i-want-to-jump-his-bones kind of way?”

you’re sure your cheeks are turning red now, “maybe…but that doesn’t count!”

“what doesn’t?”

“i mean, i’ve always thought he was hot, but lately things have felt different - i have been feeling differently,” you correct yourself.

you don’t tell her that you’ve been admiring him from afar all those years of friendship, how watching him with someone else makes a sick feeling in your stomach grow, or how your heart seems to jump out of your chest whenever he touches you.

she leans closer to you, her elbows sitting on the small table between you, “different how?” she smirks.

“the jump-his-bones thing…” you mumble, “but i think there’s something different with me! i don’t know, maybe it’s the pregnancy.”

she seems to think about your words for a moment, “wait, this is about your fourth month, right?” you nod, “that’s totally normal! your hormones start going crazy around the fourth month of pregnancy. i couldn’t keep my hands off mike during that time,” she says, referring to her husband.

“is that what this is? i thought i was turning into a horny teenager.”

you both laugh before you continue, “i guess i can call my gynecologist and see if she can give me a pill or something.”

“oh yeah, that’s what you need: a good…pill.”

you playfully roll your eyes at her, “shut up.”

“i bet jj would be happy to help you with that by the way.”

“mar!”

she throws her hands in the air, “just saying.”

as you drive back home, your friend’s words keep replaying in your head.

could he really be in love with you? and even if he were, why wouldn’t he tell you, especially right now?

you mindlessly walk through the front door, still deep in your thoughts, when you hear a strange sound coming from the corridor. you automatically place your hand on your phone, ready to call ‘someone’, before your head turns to the window, your eyes searching for jj’s truck. when you see it right outside your house, you sigh in relief.

“jj?” you call his name, walking towards the sound.

“in here!” he yells, his voice now clearly coming from the empty room in your apartment.

when you find yourself outside the room, you have to stop yourself from actually drooling at the sight; he’s kneeling on the ground, shirtless and sweating, as he’s working with some pieces of wood. you’re not really sure what he’s doing but you’re sure as hell enjoying the view.

“j, what are you doing?” you ask as you enter what’s supposed to be a spare room, confusion and amusement written all over your face.

“i’m building a crib,” he says nonchalantly while your lips slightly part at his words.

your hand automatically travels to your growing belly, “what?”

“i thought i would get ahead of things, before everything becomes crazy and shit, i don’t know. wanted to surprise you,” he shrugs, although it’s obvious he cares about your reaction.

“is this going to be the baby’s room?”

he finally rises rom his kneeling position and walks to you, standing at the door to look at the room in front of you, “you don’t like it?”

tears start to form in your eyes and you don’t even know why, “it’s just - it’s so boring and plain! i-“ you take a deep breath and look at jj, “i love what you’re doing, j. it’s the sweetest thing someone has ever done for me but…this room is so ugly.”

you almost start to cry when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, bringing your body flush against his, and kisses your head, “i’m sorry,” you whisper against his naked chest, your insides turning at the feeling of his skin.

“hey, it’s okay. did you really think i wanted to keep those beige walls in a baby’s room?”

you crane your neck to look up at him, “you don’t?”

he chuckles, “of course not, baby. i wanted to paint the walls a different color, that’s for sure. i was thinking green. would you like that?”

you nod and wrap your arms around his neck, jumping slightly to rest your head right where his neck meets his shoulder, “yes, yes! that’s so pretty!”

he’s completely taken aback by your sudden burst of happiness, not that he minds, he would do absolutely anything to make you happy. jj wraps his arms tightly around your torso and spins you a little as you giggle, the sound like a sweet melody he never wants to stop listening to.

when your feet hit the ground again, you place your hands on his reddened cheeks and kiss one of them sweetly, “thank you.”

“anything for you, you know that.”

you smile up at him, showing him your sweetest smile, one that’s always been his. his arms are still circling around your torso, keeping you close to him and you swear you see his eyes flicker to your lips for a second, but that’s it; only a second, before he goes back to what he was doing previous to your arrival.

the next day, jj shows up at your house with full buckets of green paint, brushes and rollers in plastic bags and that grin on his face you love so much, “put on some old clothes, baby, because we’re painting a room today.”

you look at him incredulous, “are you serious right now?”

“uhhh, yeah?”

he walks to what will be the baby’s room while you run to your closet, excited to do this for your child. you wear a big, worn, white t-shirt, which you’re sure is actually jj’s, and a pair of denim overalls your mom gave to you when she found out about your pregnancy, since they’re bigger than your usual size.

jj swears his heart skips a beat when he sees you, the look suits you so much he wishes he could kiss you right then and there.

“so, are we doing this?” you ask, walking to him as he tries to stop staring and gawking at you.

he hands you a paint roller, already covered in the light pastel green tint, and you take it with a determined smile on your face, which he returns.

“where do i start?”

“just paint the center and i’ll do the edges and hard spots,” he says as he also picks his own roller.

“you think i can’t handle the ‘hard spots’, maybank?” you grin in a teasing manner, making fun of the way he spoke to you and doing air quotes with your free hand.

“i think i don’t want you to climb a ladder. i won’t help you if you fall on your ass.”

you push his shoulder jokingly, “shut up, you would carry me around for weeks if i ever fall,” you add, laughing at the image you have in your head of a very tired jj giving you piggyback rides.

“yeah, i would,” and the smile on his face is a genuine one this time.

you and jj fall in a comfortable silence as you paint the walls of your baby’s room, illuminated by the soft afternoon light coming from the window. everything has always been easy with him, you never once felt judged or self-conscious around him, because you know that no matter what happens, he’ll always take your side.

you glance at him from time to time, his thin, white cotton shirt giving you a full view of his abs. you can’t help yourself from feeling warmer only by looking at him, and at this point you’re not sure you can blame it all on your pregnancy hormones.

“wanna listen to some music?” he asks after a while.

“sure.”

jj takes his phone out of the back pocket of his ripped jeans, and after scrolling his screen for a while, he sets it down on the floor as ‘i’m walking on sunshine’ by katrina and the waves starts playing.

“seriously?” you laugh at him as he starts moving his hips to the music and bopping his head.

“what?”

he keeps painting, enjoying the giggles leaving your lips as you look at him.

“you’re ridiculous!”

“oh yeah?”

he takes your free hand and starts spinning you around which leads the acrylic covering the roll in your other hand to splatter on him and yourself.

“jj!” you act mad, although you can’t keep the laughter inside you.

“you know, green hair suits you,” he teases.

“oh, you’re dead!”

suddenly, your roller is sliding down his shirt as a gasp leaves his lips.

“you didn’t!”

in the blink of an eye, you’re both splattering paint on each other, your clothes ruined and your smiles so big your cheeks hurt.

you turn around as you squeal from the amount of paint you’re throwing at each other, but it’s so fun you don’t even care. when you ‘accidentally’ cover his face in green, it’s over.

your mouth is agape and a choked laugh escapes you at the sight. jj lets his roller fall down on the ground as he uses both of his hands to get rid of the paint, so slowly that it’s now become comical.

“that’s it. come here!”

he runs after you, making you scream in amusement, but the chase doesn’t last long as he wraps his arms around your torso from behind, slightly lifting you from the ground while you bend your legs and then he puts you immediately back with your feet on the floor, never letting you go. he smothers his face on your shoulder and cheek while you keep laughing, your stomach almost hurting from how much fun you’re having.

“stop, stop!” you try to say between choked gasps.

you manage to turn around in his arms and face him, stupid grins on both your faces and as you both realize how close you are to each other, your chuckles die down. you reach his green cheek with your hand, trying to get rid of the paint.

“green suits you, maybank,” you say, mocking him.

“i hate you,” his voice is hoarse as he looks down at you, wrapped in his arms and completely happy.

your hand travels down to his jaw, until your palm touches his chin; his breath hitches at your soft touch.

“you don’t,” you whisper.

your eyes flicker from his to his lips while your thumb brushes against his bottom lip, removing the residual green on them. you can’t help yourself from staring at them, biting your own bottom lip unconsciously.

“yeah, i don’t,” he mumbles, slowly leaning down as your mouths get dangerously close to each other and you can feel his breath fanning out on your parted lips.

his eyes stare into yours, a thousand words left unsaid. your other hand is resting on his hard chest and the loud thumping of his heart against your touch makes you flutter your eyes close.

“do you want me to stop?” he breathes out, with his lips already brushing against yours.

you open your eyes, and when you’re about to tell him to just kiss you - the sound of your doorbell wakes you up from your trance.

as your heart tries to get back to a normal rate, you unwrap yourself from his arms with an apologetic smile; you clear your throat, “i - i have to - uhm, the door-“

to say he made you a flustered mess is an understatement. he chuckles lightly, “right.”

when you open the front door, annoyed at whoever ruined the moment you were having with jj, the last person on earth you would’ve expected stands outside.

“nathan,” you gasp.

you look down at your clothes, green paint all over you, and then back up at him. is this really happening?

“is this a bad time?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“hey, who was at the-“

‘this is bad’ you think to yourself, horror clear on your face.

jj speed walks to you, an arm is thrown protectively in front of you as he gives the man the most intense death stare you’ve ever seen.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” jj asks with so much venom in his voice.

“i need to talk to you. what the fuck is he doing here?” nathan looks at you, completely ignoring the blond beside you.

“no. you’re going to stay outside and talk to me.”

shit.

“j, calm down, please. don’t do anything stupid,” you turn to the blond beside you, placing a hand on his chest, but it’s useless; he’s already walking outside, with you hot on his heels.

“get back inside,” he tells you, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him.

“hey, look at me,” you force his head to turn to you by placing your hands on his cheeks, and his gaze finally softens, “you’ve already done enough. stop it.”

“i don’t want you to be alone with him.”

“but i need to do this alone, please.”

you can see his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he looks between you and nathan, “whatever happens, i’m inside.”

you give him a reassuring smile, “i know.”

you watch as he walks back into your apartment, and you turn back to your ex boyfriend.

“what are you doing here, nathan?” you ask annoyed.

“you’re my girl and that’s my baby,” he says pointing to your prominent belly, “what is he doing here?”

“your girl? what are you talking about? you left us months ago!”

“no, you kicked me out-“

“because you didn’t want us! you tried to hit me, nathan! what the hell do you want from me?”

he walks closer to you, but you instinctively take a step back, showing him how much you fear him, and that makes a sick smile appear on his face, “that’s still my baby. you hate it, don’t you?”

what you don’t realize is that he’s not smiling at you, but at the blond man standing outside your door with his arms across his chest. the thought of leaving you alone with nathan was making him sick to his stomach and he couldn’t stay inside any longer.

“i don’t hate my baby. i’m their mother and i’ll love them until my last breath, and i know other people will too. they’re just unlucky to have a sick and piece of shit of a father-“

your breath is knocked out of your lungs when a hand almost hits you in the face; the blow is stopped by someone else’s fingers wrapped around nathan’s wrist.

“you think i don’t know why you came here?” jj spits at him, “did you really think i didn’t know you were here for revenge? you want nothing to do with this baby, you never did.”

nathan looks at you and then back at jj, “oh yeah? then why are you here? i know you’re just waiting for her to give it up like the sl-“ before he could end his sentence, jj’s hand wraps around his throat, throwing him on the wall beside your door.

“c’mon, what were you saying, huh? let’s see if you’ve got the balls to say it!” he yells in his face.

“get off me!”

nathan tries to get rid of jj’s assault, pushing at him as he can feel his fingers tighten around his throat, choking him.

“JJ! STOP IT!” you scream as you can see the brown haired’s face start to get redder, fighting for air.

“stay the fuck away from my girl, you got it?” jj all but growls.

he finally lets go of nathan, pushing his head back on the wall violently as he does so, emitting a groan of pain from him. nathan starts coughing violently, trying to regain his breath, when jj speaks again, “and if i see you near her again, if i hear you talking about her, i swear i won’t stop until you’re dead.”

he walks over to you, placing one hand on your back as he gently pushes you inside the house. when he closes the door behind him, he spins you around and his eyes are immediately scanning over your face, checking for injuries, “he didn’t touch you, right?”

“j,” you gulp, “you could’ve killed him.”

he licks his lips and then avoids your eyes, “should’ve done it the moment i found out what he did to you. he’s lucky i haven’t done it yet.”

you put some distance between you two, causing him to look at you with hurt written all over his features, “you could’ve gone to jail, jj. what the hell were you thinking?”

“i was thinking he was about to hit you! did you want me to give him a pat on the back for almost slapping you in the face?”

you rub your hands on your face, confusion and frustration hitting you all at once, “i don’t want you to get hurt or get in such serious trouble because of me. that’s all i’m saying.”

he takes a step closer to you, “you do realize i would go to jail for you? i don’t care. there’s no way i would’ve let him get away for hurting you and the baby. and yes, y/n, i would kill for the both of you.”

you inhale sharply, closing your eyes for a second. when you reopen them, you take the last steps that separate you and throw your arms around his neck, hugging him close to you. he’s quick to catch you, one arm wrapped tightly around your torso and the other resting on your head.

“just because you would go to jail for me doesn’t mean i want you to,” you whisper, your lips on his neck, “i need you to stay here…with us. i want the baby to know the wonderful man that you are, okay?”

his arm tighten, if that’s possible, around you, “okay, baby. i’m right here; not going anywhere.”

it’s been almost two months since the last time you saw your ex boyfriend now. nothing has changed between you and jj, although the air is different; there’s a tension every time you look at each other and neither of you knows how to deal with it.

lingering touches and stolen glances are part of your day to day life and you don’t know how long you can keep this facade up before one of you decides to do something about it.

it’s currently five in the morning and you’re lying on your bed as one hand rests on your belly, rubbing the naked skin lovingly. you were awoken by a weird sensation in your stomach but now everything feels normal and you’re trying to fall asleep again, when the feeling comes back.

“oh my god,” you whisper to yourself, “you’re kicking. oh my god!”

you reach for your phone immediately, giggling at the feeling of little feet kicking in your stomach.

you don’t even give him the time to say something, “j, you have to come here right now!”

well, that got his attention instantly and he’s already putting his shoes on as he asks: “what’s going on? are you okay? is the baby okay?”

“they’re kicking! they’re kicking for the first time, j. you have to feel this! oh my god, it’s so weird!”

jj is already getting in his car when he smiles widely at your voice, your happiness so clear in your words that his heart clenches at the sound, “yeah? good weird or bad weird?”

“good weird,” you say, sighing happily, “definitely good weird.”

“stay right there, love. i’ll be there before you know it, okay?”

you hear the sound of the motor of the car, already moving and ready to get to you, “m’kay. we’ll wait for you.”

when he arrives, he almost runs into your room and launches himself on the bed, letting a big laugh erupt from your lips; his favorite music.

“come here, come here. they started kicking like crazy when i talked to you!” you tell him as he climbs up higher on the bed to kiss your forehead, making you smile even wider.

you take his hand and place it on your stomach, although the movements have stopped at least five minutes ago.

“is it happening?” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your face, admiring your beauty slightly illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window.

“not anymore,” your hand guides his around on your belly, hoping the contact will make the baby move again, “i can’t believe you missed it.”

“hey,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, turning your attention to him, “it’s okay. i wish i was here for the first time, but i don’t want you to be upset about it. they kicked! we should be happy about this, sunshine.”

you smile at each other and you lean into his touch, “i know,” you sigh, “they’re already growing so fast, i can’t-“

the feeling of something moving inside you, interrupts you, “they’re doing it again, j!”

his hand is still resting on your stomach and he chuckles in disbelief when he can feel the movement too, “oh my god, this is amazing!”

you look at him, your eyes shining from the joy of sharing this moment with him, and when he turns to you again and notices that your eyes were already on him, he kisses your cheek, so slowly and with so much affection that it takes you by surprise.

“i wish i could be here for everything,” he confesses, almost to himself, “every little thing, i want to be here; for you and for them.”

“then stay,” the words escape your lips unconsciously, but there’s no turning back now, “i mean, if you want. you can move in.”

his eyes widen while a big grin plays on his face, “are you serious?”

you nervously bite your bottom lip, scared that he might think that you’re crossing too many lines, “yeah, if you want. you said you want to be here for everything and if you lived here, you could. it was just a thought, if you don’t want this, i-“

his arms wrap around you in a swift motion, startling you but you recover quickly by returning the hug, “i’ll take this as a yes?”

he looks at you, lying on his side as one arm is still resting on your waist, “of course! i care about you, both of you. i don’t want to miss anything.”

you smile at him and scoot closer to feel his comforting touch, “go back to sleep, sunshine,” he whispers, “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

jj spends hours watching you sleep, the sound of your soft breaths, the peacefulness on your features, the way you try to get closer to him, even in your sleep; he’s so in love with you, it hurts sometimes. he wants nothing but to spend the rest of his life like this, sleeping in the same bed and holding each other until morning comes.

and that’s how you spend your nights from now on. when you asked him to move in with you, you both agreed he would have to sleep on the pullout couch, because that’s what made sense, right?

but how can you sleep so far away from him when he’s so close? he’s your safe haven, always have been and always will. therefore, you end up sleeping on the pullout couch more often than you’d like to admit, and he ends up in bed with you, because he can’t stay away from you either.

‘i had a nightmare’

‘i can’t sleep’

‘do you feel like watching a movie?’

bad excuses to spend the night together, that’s what they are.

you’re currently lying on the pullout couch, jj’s head on your chest as you’re both trying to sleep. when he thinks you have drift off, his hand falls on your belly, gently stroking it as a thousand mental pictures of your future together fill his head. he unwraps himself from you and positions himself in order to place his head on your stomach. maybe it’s silly, but the book that lays on your bedside table said that babies can hear you even when they’re in the womb; so it’s worth a try, he thinks.

“hi, baby,” he mumbles against your skin, “i know we don’t know each other yet, but i love you very much, and so does your mom. you’re very lucky, y’know? she’s the best mom you could’ve asked for,” he softly kisses the skin, “and i swear i’ll try to be enough for both you and her. i wish i could give you everything in the world, but for now i hope my heart is enough.”

jj sighs, slowly rubbing the skin with his thumb, completely unaware that his movements woke you up a while ago, “you know, your mom already had my heart before, she always did, but sssh, this is a secret between you and me, mh?” he chuckles softly, “but you? well, you and your mom have been sharing my heart since the moment i found out about you. i know it’ll be yours forever, i don’t want it to be anyone else’s.”

a moment passes before he can get the next words out, “i love you both so much, you have no idea,” he says, his voice breaking as he does so.

“j?” you inhale sharply, too scared of making a sound. your heart is beating so fast and tears are welling up in your eyes as you look down at the man who’s been taking care of you for as long as you can remember.

“i - i thought you were asleep…” he says, his eyes full of fear as he gets up from his position to lay next to you.

“what was that about?” your voice is barely a whisper. did he just confess that he loves you? what did he mean?

“i read that babies can hear you even when they’re not born yet…thought maybe it would be nice to talk to them i guess,” his eyes avoid yours at all costs, hoping that you didn’t hear everything he said. the situation is already complicated as it is, he doesn’t want to make your life harder than it is right now.

“not that. the things you said…j, did you mean them?” your hand cradles his face, forcing him to finally look at you as a thousand emotions are written in his eyes.

“y/n, i-“

“yes or no. did you mean them?”

you don’t want to play childish games, not anymore. you can’t keep acting like you don’t know what’s going on between you.

“yes.”

the breath you let out is shaky and you can barely keep your composure with the amount of feelings you have right now. you’ve always known he loves you, but not like this. this is a different kind of love that you thought he would never have for you, and it scares you.

your hand falls from his cheek, but he’s quick to hold it in his, bringing it to his chest as you can feel his thumping heart beneath your touch; or maybe it’s yours, you’re not even sure at this point.

“nothing has to change, please,” his eyes search for yours, full of panic, “don’t push me away; not now. i have to take care of you and the baby, i can’t imagine a life without you. i can move out, if that makes you more comfortable-“

“yes. you should move out,” you don’t want to do this, and that’s clear by the way your voice breaks, but it’s what’s best for everyone involved, “you can come over whenever you want, but i don’t think you should keep living here.”

he drops your hand, putting some space between you two, as rejection is written all over his features. he slowly nods his head, keeping his tears at bay, “whatever you think is right for you.”

you avoid his eyes, sitting up, and you start to get up from the bed. for the umpteenth time, he’s putting your happiness before his. your eyes water as you stand in front of the couch, showing him your back before you turn around to face him, his body still laying on the mattress.

“this isn’t what i want, j,” you whisper.

he finally looks up at you, “then what do you want, y/n?” he raises from the bed, towering over you, “because i’ll do it. whatever you want, but you have to say it. you know what i want, what i’ve always wanted,” his face is so close to yours that you don’t know how long you’ll be able to hold yourself back, “now look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want the same things.”

you close your eyes for a second before looking up at him, “i want you to be happy and free. i don’t want you to feel trapped, with a baby and everything, i-“ you sigh in frustration, “i don’t want to be a burden, not anymore.”

“you were never a burden,” his hands are placed on your arms as if to beg you to stay, “and you never trapped me. i stayed because i wanted to. what do i have to do to make you understand that this is what i want? i’m not messing around, y/n.”

you swallow thickly, the intense look in his eyes making your legs feel weak, “j, i-“

“just tell me.”

“what if you regret-“

“please,” he whispers as he lets his forehead touch yours, your heaving chests almost brushing against each other from the closeness.

“kiss me,” and he does, instantly.

his lips move gently against yours at first, tasting you, until the kiss becomes more urgent and rough. his tongue thrusts inside your mouth, claiming it and exploring it for the first time. years and years of pining and sexual frustration all in one long and breathless kiss.

one of his hands rests on your hip, almost brushing against your naked skin, while the other is placed on the back of your head, before it starts to trail down along your spine. you can’t help yourself from moaning against his mouth, tugging on his hair as you do so, which makes a low groan slip from his throat. he slowly makes you walk backwards and pushes you against the kitchen counter, without ever breaking the kiss.

his hands wrap around your naked thighs, slowly reaching for your behind and helping you sit on the counter. your legs rest on either side of him as his hands touch the exposed skin of your legs.

you lightly push him away, your foreheads still touching as you try to regain your breath, “oh my god,” you breathe out, emitting a chuckle from him.

“i second that.”

your noses brush against each other as you take deep breaths, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this,” he mumbles on your lips.

“me too, j,” you say with your hands still tangled in his hair.

he pecks your lips once, then twice, before his mouth starts leaving a trail of wet kisses from your jaw down to your neck, sucking and lightly biting on the spot below your ear, making you gasp at the feeling; the sound going right into his pants.

“fuck - the things you do to me, sunshine…” he rasps, his lips still nipping and kissing your exposed skin.

“wait,” you say and he raises his head to look at you.

“you want me to stop? we don’t have to do anything.”

he rubs your thigh with his thumb, comforting you, “i want this; i really do, but…” you look down, too embarrassed to face him, “my body is…different now.”

“oh, baby. your body is perfect. you really don’t know how hard you make me, do you? you’re sexy as hell, baby. so fucking gorgeous.”

your let your eyes fall to the prominent bulge in his pants before looking up at him, your cheeks flushed, “hey, if you want to wait, i’ll do it. i’ll wait for you as long as you need. waited my whole life, i can do it a little longer,” he whispers, seeing your hesitation.

“you can’t say things like that and expect me to not want you to take my clothes off.”

he chuckles lightly, before you slowly jump down the counter and take his hand, intertwining your fingers together.

you begin walking towards your room, your back to the door and your front to jj’s. your lips press against his jaw, leaving sweet kisses, until they reach his ear, “i want you to make love to me,” you murmur, your lips on his earlobe, gently biting it as a growl leaves his mouth, “then i want you to fuck me.”

and let’s just say he doesn’t hesitate for one second. he worships your body all night, showing you exactly how you should be treated, how all of the other guys you’ve been with were nothing compared to what he’s able to make you feel. you’ve never felt more comfortable with someone in bed, and even in your situation, he still manages to make you feel beautiful and sexy.

you fall asleep in his arms, naked and finally happy.

week 34 of pregnancy

“JJ I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T DRIVE FASTER I’LL KILL YOU!” you yell as your boyfriend is driving you to the hospital.

his foot hits the gas a little bit more, his arm wrapped in front of you, as if the seatbelt isn’t enough.

“breathe, baby, just breathe,” he keeps telling you and you’re really close to strangling him.

another contraction hits you and you grab his arm, tightly shutting your eyes from the pain. jj quickly checks the time on the watch on the hand that’s gripping the steering wheel.

“shit,” he whispers to himself, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“what?”

“the last one was four minutes ago. the baby is coming and soon.”

“it hurts, j!”

“hold on, baby, we need to get to the hospital NOW.”

by the time a nurse is pushing you on a wheelchair down the hospital halls, the contractions are three minutes apart. once they bring you to your room, jj sits next to you, holding your hand in his.

“we’re here! we’re here!” your mom says as she enters the room, followed by your dad and mar.

“i need everyone to leave the room for a second,” your doctor says and everyone follows her orders.

she examines you, checking to see if the baby is ready, “okay, y/n. it’s time. two minutes and we’re going to start, okay?”

you nod, fear obvious in your eyes, “can they come in for a second?” you ask, referring to the people outside.

“of course, but just for a second,” she calls them in.

jj runs to your side, kissing your forehead sweetly and holding your hand again, “everything okay?”

“she said two minutes and we’re starting.”

he sees the panic in your eyes and brushes some hair out of your face, in order to comfort you, “it’s okay. everything’s going to be okay, mh? and i’ll be right here, baby, i’m not leaving you.”

after hearing your parents’ and your friend’s reassuring words, the doctor comes back, “okay, i need everyone, except the father, out.”

they all leave, jj still sitting by your side. the gynecologist raises one eyebrow at him, “are you the father?”

“yes,” you answer, without thinking twice.

he doesn’t say anything; one of his arms is resting on the pillow behind your back, for you’re in a sitting position, while his other hand is still tightly holding yours.

“okay, then. ready to push?”

you nod. as the whole process goes on, jj and your doctor’s words are the only thing that are helping you through this. one of jj’s arms is now under your knee, keeping your legs open, as you start crying.

the doctor gives you a five seconds break, waiting for the next contraction while your back hits the pillow behind you, giving up the fight.

“i can’t push anymore,” you cry, jj’s hand pushing your hair out of your face, sticked to your forehead due to the sweat, and yet he thinks you look like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“i know, sunshine, i know. a little bit more, you can do it,” he kisses the side of your head.

“i can’t, i can’t. can you do it for me?”

he looks down at you, smiling sweetly, “i wish i could, but you’re gonna have to do this one.”

“c’mon. again, y/n,” your doctor says, resuming your previous actions.

when you finally hear the sound of a baby crying, your whole body relaxes against the pillow.

“did so good, baby. you did so good,” jj praises you, pressing his lips to your forehead.

his eyes look for the baby, resting in the gynecologist’s hands, “oh my god. oh my god, it’s a girl,” he tells you.

you look for your baby and when you see her, tears start streaming down your face again, “oh my god. she’s so tiny,” you watch as the nurses bring her away from you, “where are they taking her? j, where is she?”

“it’s okay, baby. they’re just washing her.”

“oh, okay, but be careful, she’s really tiny!”

jj chuckles wetly, tears also running down his face. a nurse hands you your baby and you instantly hold her to your chest.

“she’s so beautiful,” you whisper.

“she looks like you.”

you look up at him, “how can you say that? she was just born!”

“she’s beautiful, so she must look like you.”

your lips lightly touch her forehead, admiring her as jj does the same. when your eyes search for him again, you find him completely in awe with the baby, rubbing her small, blanket-covered arm with his thumb.

“maybank, if you don’t kiss me right now, i swear to go-“

his mouth is on yours before you can end your sentence, gently kissing your lips.

“i love you so much, sunshine.”

“i love you, j. so, so much.”

taglist:

@jjmaybankisbae @rosie-cameron @idli-dosa @notslay-norcleor @ry1ssa @jjgirl4eva @poppet05 @jjsmads @solargazes @cindersnightmare @fairlymax @chaostudee @Isabellaheulwen @fictionlife4ever @alinag11 @neteyamo @goldenroutledge @tenaciousperfectionunknown @drewsgarfieid @urrtranny @highl1lac

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chronicdisasterwrites · 9 months

Text

gotta keep these kids on leashes

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru, shoko ieiri (gojo’s past arc)

genre + warnings: - MAJOR FLUFF !! alooot of swearing, smoking, sexual jokes, mention of grandparents doing it (lmao you gotta read it to understand), reader wants to murder the bois, suguru wants to die, everybody is CRAZY!

word count: 3,350 (rip)

summary: OKAY i wrote it. the dynamic quartet is back doing... nothing good. suguru gets hit on, the three losers do crazy stuff and surprisingly no one dies (shocker) :0

enjoy this tomfoolery <3

The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the curses are dying and you're not the one doing the killing, your head isn't pounding and your bed is so, so soft. Your window is slightly parted so the cool breeze is making the curtains dance and your skin prick. Nuzzling your head on the plush pillow and pulling your blanket higher so only your head is visible, you open your eyes, check the time, remember you have no classes, smile to yourself and dive back into the warm embrace that is sleep.

Until the tranquil atmosphere is disrespectfully shattered by the idiots you call your ‘friends’.

Your door is kicked open and the sudden sound was enough to make you jump and reach for your katana leaning against the bedside table. Your vision is blurry but your katana is half unsheathed as you contemplate killing the two perpetrators.

“Yeesh, you're hostile in the morning,” Satoru grins as he kneels on the ground and rests his obnoxiously large head on his obnoxiously large palms on the foot of your bed, like some petulant child who broke a vase and is now being their best self to appease their parents. “Nice bedhead,” his grin gets exponentially larger and your hand twitches against the hilt of your katana.

“I told you we should've knocked. You never listen, Satoru,” Suguru sighs as he walks through the gap that used to be your door.

Your morning is thoroughly fucked. The birds are dead, the curses are in your room, your head feels like it will explode and there are tiny fragments of wood all over your bed.

Your jaw clenches and eyes darken as you fully unsheathe your katana with the pure intention of murdering these morons.

“I will give you 10 seconds to run and hide.”

“Aw c’monnn,” Satoru’s obnoxious voice drawls as he attempts to pat your head, but before your blade had the chance to amputate his wrist, Suguru’s hand held Satoru’s away from you; therefore preventing a major bloodshed from occurring. Ever the mediator.

“Okay I think we pissed her off enough, Satoru,” Suguru says calmly as Satoru pouts with a small “Aw man”. Suguru lets go of Satoru’s hand as he slowly takes the katana from your hands and puts it into its scabbard. Releasing a breath he places his hand on your head and gently smooths down your wild mane.

He drawls your name and you look at him with furrowed brows and a deep scowl.

He chuckles, “We’re gonna have a day out and you can get all the mochi and pancakes your heart desires. Our treat, for ruining your sleep and…” he looks at the desecrated door, “…your door.” You hear Satoru whine about why you let Suguru touch your hair and not him and choose to ignore it.

He smiles when he sees the glint in your eyes at the mention of mochi and pancakes and your scowl gets smaller and brows get straighter. You sigh and get up off the bed, “Fine. I have to get dressed so get out.”

“Don’t be late, mochiii~ we’ll be waiting.” He manages to dodge the hairbrush you throw at his head perfectly as he jumps up to run out of the room while giggling like a schoolgirl.

Suguru laughs as he follows his dumbass friend out and you look at your completely fucked door, wondering what you did to deserve this.

—-

“Can you shut up, please? I'm begging at this point,” Your voice is tired and your eyes are glaring holes into the brunette’s head as she laughs and chortles into oblivion.

“They- broke your- they broke your door-” more laughter. “Dude this is a comedy-” more laughter and snorting. “comedy- gold-” Shoko slaps the table and wheezes as various strangers stare at the two of you and mutter among themselves with concerned faces.

You silently poke at your half-eaten cheesecake as you try to forget the events of the morning and ignore the moron sitting before you.

“Why didn't they torment you like that?” you grumble as you cut up the poor cheesecake with your fork and turn it into mush.

Shoko takes heaving breaths and sniffles as she takes a sip of her matcha latte and drags her chair forward. Her voice is light and thoroughly amused, “Because I'm not fun to tease. You, on the other hand, are the best person to tease,” her lips tilt up to a grin as she stirs her drink with her straw.

You stare at her with dead eyes. “I hate you,” you deadpan.

“Yeah, I love you too,” her grin gets wider and a few chuckles escape her as she bites on her straw.

The mall was pretty packed considering it was the weekend. Pretty girls window shopping and checking out people with their pretty friends. Couples walking around holding hands and laughing at each other's jokes. It was fun to watch them live their lives, as you lived yours. You wish you wore one of your cute, normal outfits instead of your uniform, just for today. But as you look down at your uniform, you appreciate it more. This uniform got you through some crazy times. Some near deaths, some deaths, a lot of blood. You feel comfortable in it, and it doesn't look completely awful.

Suddenly, you hear your name and Shoko’s name being yelled at in the distance and you both look at each other apprehensively and look around the little open cafe you were in. You quirk an eyebrow at Shoko and she shrugs, but then the sound of Satoru’s obnoxious voice yelling both of your names cuts through the chatter of the crowd and you both look to the side to see him running toward your table at full-speed screaming like an idiot. The moment he reaches your table he slams both hands down and heaves and wheeze as people stare at you with genuine concern.

“What the hell?! I've been looking everywhere for you two,” Satoru yanks Shoko’s matcha latte from her hands despite her “Hey!” of protest and makes a scrunched-up, disgusted face upon inspecting the bitten straw. He proceeds to open the plastic lid, chug the remaining latte, crumple up the cup into a tiny ball using his Limitless technique and drop it on the table for you and Shoko to gawk at.

He then looks at your cheesecake-turned-paste concoction and makes another face of pure disgust. “Can't you losers eat properly? Jeez,” he complains as he takes your plate and finishes the cheesecake mutation in two bites.

“Satoru…” you sigh for the umpteenth time that day, as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“What do you want?” Shoko completes for you with her nonchalant voice as she rummages her purse for her pack of cigarettes. At this point, you know you need one too.

He makes wild arm gestures like a cheerleader for every word he utters, “Suguru. Is. Getting. Hit. On.”

Your face is unimpressed and Shoko says “Aha” while holding up a pack of cigarettes.

Satoru visibly deflates as a look of pure shock crosses his face at the shameless nonchalance you both are portraying.

“Okay. So?” you shrug as you pick at your nails with your teeth.

Satoru pulls your hand down and holds it there as he leans down and gawks at you with his jaw dropped and furrowed silver brows.

“No, no. This is serious. Suguru is getting hit on and we're wasting time,” he stares into your eyes and you can see your reflection in the dark glass of his sunglasses. You bring up your free hand to fix your hair using his sunglasses as a mirror and something in his head cracks as he jolts up, grabs Shoko’s hand, and pulls you both towards the scene of the crime. You both scramble to take your purse and you leave more than enough money on the table before being dragged away by a tall, crazy man.

“Listen up. We are going to embarrass the shit outta him, okay?” He's walking faster as he makes his way out of the air-conditioned mall towards the outdoor food court. You and Shoko are reluctantly following him as you honestly have nothing better to do and you can't lie; embarrassing Suguru sounds really fun.

“Roger that, sir,” you do a mock salute and hear Satoru chuckle. “What's the plan?”

“You two will attack first. Shoko you gotta be as scary as possible and-” Satoru’s master plan phase-1 was interrupted by Shoko asking a tangible question. Or actually; questions.

“How scary? Can I slap him? Can I throw water on his face? Should I cry?”

Satoru groans and starts walking even faster. “Okay, you can do all of that, but remember your role is the ‘cheated girlfriend’, alright? You're mad but sad. Mad and sad.”

You hear Shoko mutter “okie” right as Satoru says your name, “You can act as the ‘cheated wife’ or something. Cry, latch onto him, beg him. Go crazy,” he throws a sly grin over his shoulder and you're concerned about the evil lilt his voice took when he said the word ‘crazy’.

“And what about you? What's your role?” you ask as you feel him slow down. You look ahead and see Suguru talking with a pretty woman with long, straight black hair. Satoru stops, steps behind you and Shoko, and says with his usual cocky demeanor, “You’ll see, Lil' Mochi,” and doesn't give you the chance to complain about the nickname as he shoves you both towards the victim of ‘Satoru’s Master Plan Phase-1’.

You and Shoko look at each other with devilish grins as you activate your inner drama queens and launch yourselves toward one unaware, unprepared Geto Suguru.

You gasp and squeal with a shaking hand against your open mouth, “Oh my- Geto Suguru?! How dare you! Especially now- how could-” You choke on a fake sob and place your palm on your stomach as Suguru slowly turns back with wide eyes and a bulging vein on his temple.

“While I'm pregnant with YOUR CHILD?! You're inhuman!” you fall to your knees fake crying your heart out as you cover your face with both palms and try your hardest to not break character.

You hear gasps all around you and the sound of Suguru stuttering, and you wonder if you overdid it.

You then feel someone lift you with their hands on your arms. You glance to see Shoko acting all ‘mad and sad’ as you fall into her arms and fake cry some more.

“It's okay, I understand,” she pats your head with her soft hands and spits fake venom at an even more bewildered Geto Suguru. “He tricked me too. He was cheating on you with me first, you know?” You crank up the fake crying upon hearing this and you feel Shoko’s chest shake and you feel your concentration slipping.

Shoko nudges your head and you look at her with completely dry eyes, as you keep clutching your completely baby-less stomach. Shoko pulls out two water bottles and hands you one. She nods at you and you nod at her. You both look at Suguru and he looks like he just watched his dead grandmother have sex with his dead grandfather or something. He looks aghast. You and Shoko walk towards him and Shoko steps ahead of you as you wait your turn.

“This is for cheating on me, you spineless pig! Even though I was cheating on you too!” she declares as she drenches Suguru in cold water. You hear more gasps and you see the woman he was previously talking to blanch with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. Suguru stands completely still as his bangs drip with water and his left eye twitches in pure rage.

Well, it's your turn. You step up and stare him down and fear for your life when Suguru stares back at you with a dangerous look in his eyes. You gulp down your fears and put on the bravest face you can muster, “And this is for breaking my heart and my hymen! And you weren't even that good!” For the added effect you choke on a fake sob after the last sentence and dowse him in some more cold water. You hear a bark of laughter from the crowd and you huff and hold onto Shoko as you both slowly step away from him as his cursed energy slowly grows and grows. Suguru drags his hand down his face and flicks his wrist splattering water by his side when you hear an obnoxiously loud scoff followed by an even louder voice.

“Can you stop your cryin’? It's hurting my ears,”

Satoru stands there looking like a full-on trophy wife, left arm stacked with shopping bags and right hand on his hip. Dazzled in a silver satin shirt; he definitely wasn't wearing before, with the top buttons open and sunglasses perched on his head, giving the crowd a clear view of his glittering sapphire eyes and very open chest.

You and Shoko gape at him in horror and you both look back at Suguru who looks like he might just explode. His uniform is soaked, his front hair is sticking to the side of his face, and his eyes just about look like they do when he’s fighting curses, except now they look unmerciful.

“Sugu, I'm done with my shopping. How about we go look at some furniture now, hm? ” Satoru slings the shopping bags over his shoulder and sends Suguru just about the sultriest look you've ever seen his face make.

You glance at Shoko and she glances back, and you both bite your lips to stop yourselves from spiraling into a peal of uncontrollable laughter.

Suguru seems to have had enough, as his eyes glazed over and he turns around to face the downright terrified lady.

“You seem nice, but I have some…” Suguru pauses, rethinks his sentence, and continues with a curt nod, “Well, take care.”

He gives her the sweetest, fakest smile as she returns a smile that looks more like a grimace and turns away. She looks back again and sees you and Shoko clutching onto each other for dear life, Suguru still smiling at her with a twitching eye and veins popping on his temple and neck, and Satoru spinning around swishing his shopping bags and singing Suguru’s name like a prayer, and quickly walks away.

The crowd slowly dissipates as you, Shoko, and Satoru stand in silence and Suguru slowly turns around, smile gone, and eyes narrowed, “You idiots… are lucky I didn't like her.”

You break first, and then Shoko, and soon the two of you are shaking each other, rolling around and laughing like absolute menaces. Satoru chortles seeing Suguru’s unimpressed poker face and walks up to him, placing the shopping bags down on the floor.

“C’mon it was funny and besides, we saved your ass. She seemed so boooring,” Satoru drawls and gags.

Suguru exhales as he closes his eyes and the muscle in his jaw twitches. Satoru finds a chink in his armor and grins. He's gonna break.

Satoru laughs and throws his arm around his best friend's shoulder and calls out to you and Shoko.

You two wheeze and try to catch a breath as you see Suguru’s serious face on the verge of breaking.

“Suguru, for the record, I thought she was really pretty,”

You voice your opinion with an innocent smile and Satoru facepalms.

Shoko giggles and shoves you, “That doesn't help, you idiot.”

You throw your head back and laugh, “I dunno dude, I think I lost a bunch of brain cells after that performance.”

“Not like you had any to begin with, Mochiii ~” Satoru mocks and you launch yourself at him as you both run around Suguru, you yelling profanities at Satoru and Satoru chanting “Mochi” and laughing like the actual spawn of the devil.

Suguru finally cracks. Resting his hands on his knees, he bends down and laughs freely, uninhibited; like a child. Shoko smiles and takes out two cigarettes from the pack she safely kept in her uniform pocket. She puts one between her strawberry lips and taps Suguru on his drenched head with her knuckles. Suguru looks up, his laughter subsiding, and accepts the outstretched cigarette held between Shoko’s fingers. He places it between his lips as he rummages his pockets for his little orange lighter. Finding it, he lights his cig and holds it in front of Shoko, as she lights her one. They stand next to each other and smoke their cigarettes while watching Satoru teleport behind you as he grabs you by the waist and spins you around. The sound of his cackling and your screaming fades into the background as Shoko asks, “You think they’ll ever tell each other?”

Suguru leans his head back and blows smoke into the sky. As people start filing out of the food court, you and Satoru were the only rambunctious morons making all the noise in the entire area. He looks at the scene unfolding before him; your head is locked between the junction of Satoru’s arm as his knuckles attack you with fierce noogies. You’re giggling while flailing around like a fish out of water as you try to shove him away but to no avail. Suguru huffs a laugh and takes another drag of his half-smoked cigarette, “Maybe, but not without help.” He nudges Shoko’s shoulder with his own and gives her a devilish grin. Shoko chuckles and stubs out her cig on the sole of her shoe, “What were you thinking? Push their faces together or ask Yaga Sensei to assign them on a joint mission?” She snorts, “That’d be something.”

Suguru hums. He stubs the cigarette butt on the ground and puts it in his pocket and says grinning cheekily, “Nah, I was thinking something more ridiculous. Something fit for two morons of their caliber.”

Shoko quirks an eyebrow and shakes her head with a smile, “Alright.”

You manage to escape Satoru's iron-clad grip after much effort. You boot him on his shin and make a run toward Shoko, tackling her in a massive bear hug. Shoko reciprocates the hug and you two waddle around conjoined like two baby penguins.

“Ow! That hurt!” Satoru limps toward Suguru and leans on him with his arm on his shoulder while Suguru does a hand-clapping motion. He receives a flick on the cheek from Satoru for that.

“That was literally the point, stupid,” you flip him off as he returns the very thoughtful gesture. You both chuckle and Suguru and Shoko send each other cheeky looks.

“Don’t think this is over, by the way,” Suguru says with a vengeance as he flicks you and Shoko on the forehead, to which you both reply with a small “ow”.

“I will get you all back for this. And it won't be pretty,” he ends his threat by flicking Satoru on the forehead; to which he replies with a whiny “I'm already injured, maaaan”.

“Bring it on, champ,” you grin and smack him on his back as you finally release Shoko as you pick up the shopping bags and swing them by your sides. Satoru joins you and takes a few off your hands as you all make your way out of the mall. The golden light marks your path with an incandescent glow. Time flies by incredibly fast when you’re with these children. It's scary, but at the same time, it's humbling. Being with them makes you want to live. They inspire you and drive you to reach greatness. They also make you want to store these precious moments into unbreakable vials or freeze time so you never have to leave. Nothing would go wrong, it would just be the four of you, through thick and thin, through blood and dust, through life and death. But you know you’re smarter than that. However, for today, you'll let yourself dream a little.

“So, how about some KFC?”

——————————————————————————-

a/n: not another slow-burn, pining, friends to lovers situation w satoru and reader whoops-

tagged: @porridgesblog, @stray-npc

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greenglowinspooks · 5 months

Text

Gävle Goat v.s. two drunk half-ghosts (DCxDP)

—

Tw: alcohol consumption (no way), one(1) mention of sex

Summary: Jason and Danny accidentally burn down the Gävle goat. You all voted for this, and I delivered. Merry crisis, tis the season and all that.

—

Jason wove through the ever-shifting crowd, an irritated scowl on his face.

Kori and Roy had dragged him here to celebrate a successful mission together, but the two had wandered off together not thirty minutes after they arrived, effectively stranding him in an unfamiliar club in Europe.

Now, his only two options seemed to be stealing someone’s car and getting back to their temporary safehouse himself, or waiting for the two to come back for him.

Still, considering the lecture he’d get from Dick if he hotwired a random guy’s car just because he didn’t want to wait for his friends, option one wasn’t much of an option at all.

It was humiliating. He was a crime lord, not a little kid who’d lost their mom in the store.

Jason sighed, slumping against the wall as he watched the drunken crowd swirl together.

He had never really felt at home in places like this, especially not since his resurrection. It always felt like people were staring at him, like they just intrinsically knew that he was other.

Jason startled when he felt someone tap on his shoulder.

“Sorry!” The stranger said, “I just, um, are you okay?”

Jason blinked. The person talking to him was clearly somewhat tipsy, wearing a blush on his face and a slightly loopy smile. How had he possibly snuck up on him? Was he really that deep in thought?

“My asshole friends ditched me, and now I’m stuck here,” Jason blurted out without thinking. The stranger barked out a laugh, clearly surprised.

“That sucks,” he said, leaning on the wall next to Jason. He hummed in response.

The stranger looked back at the open bar, where quite a few people were frantically miming to him. He motioned back to them, clearly hoping for them to stop, before just flipping them off. Jason chuckled at that.

“Those your friends?”

The stranger blushed brighter, the tips of his ears going red.

“Uh, yeah. We’re here to celebrate some legal stuff that I finally got done with, but, uh, they wanted me to go talk to you.”

Jason hummed again, giving the stranger a quick once-over. He was actually pretty cute; he had messy black hair, icy eyes, and an outfit that screamed “I’ve never been in a club before but my friends dragged me here anyways”.

If he was gonna be waiting for Kori and Roy anyways, why not have some fun?

“Well, I am technically here alone, now that my friends wandered off,” he said, looking at the stranger meaningfully.

The stranger grinned brightly, holding a hand out to him.

“Then, d’you wanna hang out with my friends and I? I promise we’re lot of fun! I’m Danny, by the way.”

Jason took his hand, the beginnings of a smile on his face.

“Call me Jason,” he said, following along as the (surprisingly strong) man dragged him over to his friends.

Danny was having the time of his life.

The restraining order on Vlad had finally been granted. The abolition of the Infinite Realms’ monarchy had gone through. And, on top of all that, he was on the most incredible club-hopping adventure of his un-life.

And sure, it might not have been the best idea to give ghost alcohol to Jason, the mortal his group had picked up in Germany, but he was taking it like a champ!

He hadn’t thrown up yet, in any case, so clearly it wasn’t that much of an issue.

Danny giggled, leaning up against Jason as they walked along the street, his ghostly friends filling the street.

As the night went along and they all got more and more tipsy, they’d mostly let go of their mortal forms. Despite being surrounded by a bunch of ghosts with death-blows clearly exposed and mythological creatures, Jason didn’t seem to be too bothered. He had an arm wrapped around Danny’s shoulders and was singing along with some of the ghosts in Arabic(?), his lovely baritone voice echoing out amongst the dead and unborn.

Danny just snuggled further into his side, enjoying the novel feeling of human warmth. He’d have to get Jason’s number after this, Danny sluggishly thinks. If he wasn’t freaked out by Danny being dead once he was sober, at least. He found that most people weren’t quite so open to cuddling up to a corpse. Even if that corpse could talk and walk around.

The streetlights around them began to spin as they once again walked into a rip in the veil. Everyone cheered as the lights warped and distorted, the sky becoming neon green and foggy.

Danny stumbled forward on unsteady legs, dragging Jason along with him. He wanted to get to the front of the group, to see where they were going before everyone else!

Jason tripped as Danny continued to drag him along, stumbling off the path and straight off the Realms island they were currently on. Danny, still clinging to him like a lifeline, fell alongside him.

A cheer from the spirits rang out above them, unaware of their mistake, fading as they fell. Before Danny had a chance to call out, though, they fell through another rip in the veil.

Jason sat up. He’d fallen face-first into a snowbank, and judging by the pair of legs sticking out of the snow, Danny had a similar fate. He dragged Danny out of the snow by the feet, tumbling over nothing and falling over in a heap.

Danny rolled over, laying down in the snow next to him with both arms around his waist.

Jason just looked up at the sky in awe.

It was most certainly the alcohol, or maybe the lack of pollution, but the sky looked so much more beautiful than usual.

There were so many stars in his blurry vision, and each one twinkled and shone and spun like they were dancing.

With a tremendous amount of effort, he got to his feet, dragging Danny up with him.

He twirled the man in his arms, his legs unsteady as he tried to waltz. Danny giggled, trying to match his uneven steps.

The arctic wind blew over them, carrying with it the snow and ice of the ages. The wind curled around them, spinning in circles around the pair as they danced. Sprites of fire glimmered in the corners of Jason’s vision, glimmering cheerfully. It seemed that something had caught alight, but nothing was going to distract him from the man in front of him, grinning widely with a blush that covered his entire face.

Jason fell over again, collapsing in the snow, and Danny fell over on top of him.

Light shimmered down from the snow-covered trees, falling onto Danny’s face. He scrunched his eyes closed, groaning in agony.

He was so, so hungover.

Served him right for agreeing to go out partying with Johnny of all people.

Danny’s head pounded to the beat of his heart, his core humming in rhythm. He buried his face into the fabric beneath him, trying desperately to block out the light from reaching his sensitive eyes.

Where was he, anyways?

The area around him was definitely snowy; even arctic, maybe, judging by how strongly his core was thrumming. Still, he was perfectly warm, laying on top of…

…a person?

Fuck, he was never partying with Johnny again.

Through great willpower, Danny squirmed off of the stranger and sat up, scrunching up his face as he turned away from the sun. It didn’t make his headache any better, though; the snow reflected the light almost as bright as the sun itself.

Fresh snow can have an albedo of 0.9, Danny remembered, a college lecture popping into his head. It had the highest level of albedo of anything on earth. That’s why it was bouncing the light of the sun directly into his poor sensitive eyes.

Of course Danny would wake up next to a strange man and the first thing that he thought of was science facts.

The man next to him groaned, immediately bringing his arm up to block the sun.

“What the fuck did I do last night?”

“I know, right?”

The man went abruptly still. It took all of Danny’s willpower not to laugh.

“…Do I still have my kidneys at least?”

Now Danny did burst out laughing, bright and cheery. And then he groaned and clutched his head.

“Oh gods my head hurts,” Danny hissed, “does this happen every time you drink?”

“Not unless you hate your liver.”

Danny laughed, and they both fell into silence for a few moments. It wasn’t comfortable silence by any means, though; it was unbearably tense and uncomfortable. Danny almost wished he could die on command, if only to get out of this.

“…Wanna go get breakfast?”

“Fuck yes,” Danny said, getting to his feet before helping the other man up. “Your treat?”

The other man laughed loudly.

“We’ve known each other properly for a total of five minutes, and you’re already bleeding me dry?”

“Come on, I’m a college student, it’s basically my job to ask for free food.”

The two of them sat in utter silence as they ate, watching the TV in the corner of the diner with a fascinating flavor of giddy horror.

Someone had burnt down the Gävle goat, and from the footage, it was very clearly them.

It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, luckily; the video had gone so staticky that it was very nearly unwatchable. But when combining the scene on the shitty box TV to Danny’s (very limited) memories of the night before, it was clear that they had done it.

“…Knew I forgot something that happened last night.”

Danny barked out a laugh at Jason’s comment, which earned him a sly grin in return.

“Better or worse than getting laid?”

“Eh,” Jason shrugged. “With most people? Better. With you? Worse.”

Danny laughed harder, wrapping a leg around Jason’s and waggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, arson isn’t the worst end to a first night out.”

Jason snorted.

“By the way, are you a meta? I just assumed, with the fire and all…”

Danny looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, I thought that was you.”

“What?”

Danny summoned a small burst of wind, twirling it around in his hands, creating tiny snowflakes.

“I can do that,” he said, gesturing to the snow, “but, like, fire? Nope.”

To Danny’s utter shock, a core in front of him pulsed in confusion, his own mirroring it.

Jason’s core. Jason was dead.

Jason looked at him, his face pale.

“Did you feel that too, or am I having a heart attack?”

Danny laughed nervously.

“As long as we don’t get arrested, I promise I’ll explain everything on the way back to Germany.”

—

Notes:

If Jason really was alive, he wouldn’t be for long after drinking ghost alcohol.

I brought up albedo because I learned something new in science class. Godbles

The wisps were Jason’s core forming and activating for the first time. That’s also what got the goat

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #dead on main #dead on main pairing #merry crisis 😐👍 merry chrysler #it’s extra funny that I’m doing this because I don’t even like christmas

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chaotic-toasters · 22 days

Text

Crashing

AUSWNT x Teen!Reader

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

"Hi, Macca!" You grinned, rushing into the Keeper's waiting arms. "I missed you!"

"I've missed you too, kid," she smiled, squeezing you tightly. "How's Spain treatin' you?"

"Good."

"What about me?" Alanna questioned. "I haven't seen you in a while too, y'know."

"Oh, hi Lani," you patted the defender on the shoulder. "Didn't see you there."

"You're so mean," the cityzen feigned hurt, all too familiar with your playful antics. "Kyra said to go and meet her and Charli in her room. They need you for something. Probably a prank."

"Alright," you gave her and Mac fist-bumps as you walked past. "If I turn up dead tomorrow, you know what happened."

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

"Hey, Ky, hey Char," you greeted, eyebrows raised as you followed Kyra into the room. "What was it you needed?"

"Y/N, perfect," Charli was suspiciously gleeful. "We've got some Tim Tams that we need eaten, but Ky and I have already had too many. You mind finishing them for us?"

"Sure," you agreed instantly, never one to deny a Tim Tam (even if it was way too early in the morning. "I'm down."

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

In short, you consumed three whole packets of Tim Tams. Kyra and Charli had shared a look, the former getting up and grabbing a coffee from otherwise empty desk. "You look kinda tired. Have some coffee, it'll help you get through the jetlag for now."

You hadn't thought much of it, so you'd graciously accepted it and finished it within the hour.

"Y/N! Kyra! Charli!" Lydia's voice called through the door, followed by a couple of knocks. "We've gotta head to training! Get ready to go!"

You rolled your eyes, much to Kyra and Charli's amusement. "Yes, mum!"

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

"MINIMINIMINIMINIMINIMINI!" you practically yelled, barreling towards the surprised Midfielder excitedly. "LOOKLOOKLOOKLOOK!"

"Woah, kiddo," she sidestepped, glancing over at Alanna. "You're a lot stronger than I am. Careful."

Alanna was quick to pull you into a hug in a fruitless attempt to calm you down. "What's goin' on, Y/N? You okay?"

You were shaking, bouncing up and down rapidly in the defender's arms. "What d'you mean? I'm great!"

You bolted away, somersaulting across the pitch before slamming your foot into a ball that had been laying on the ground. "WHEEEE!"

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," Tony ran over with Steph in tow. "What's happened, kiddo? You just excited?"

"Yeah yeah yeah!" you did a random backflip for no reason other than you feeling like it. "I'm excited! Yup yup yup!"

Ellie looked severely ashamed for what she was about to whisper to Hayley. "Is she... is she high?"

"No, there's no way," the Madrid player shook her head instantly. "She cares about her career way too much to jeopardize it with something like drugs."

"Yeah, you're right. But if she's not high, then what?"

Across the pitch, Lydia and Mackenzie's eyes swept over each and every player like hawks.

Instead of being worried that a new, younger keeper would take their places when you joined the national team, they immediately took you under their wings and declared themselves as your team moms. It wasn't a secret that they'd kill anybody who messed with you.

"Mac," Lydia elbowed the West Ham captain. "Over there."

Mac's eyes zeroed in on two best friends, seemingly worried as they whispered in each other's ears. "Oi! Cooney! Grant! You got somethin' to share with the team?"

Both of their heads snapped up, fear written clearly all over their faces.

Two tall, angry Australian goalkeepers was a terrifying sight for anybody, but up until now, none of the Tillies had been on the receiving end of your team moms' wrath. Safe to say, no one was prepared.

"You give my kid something?" Macca demanded, rolling up her sleeves. "Why's she actin' weird?"

Charli gulped. "We— we, uh..."

"Spit it out," Mackenzie growled, ignoring the fact that you were currently clinging onto her leg like a koala. "What. Did. You. Do. To. My. Kid?"

"We gave her a bunch of Tim Tams," Kyra blurted out, caving as soon as Lydia dragged her thumb across her throat menacingly. "And... and... Charli gave her a coffee with, like, eight packets of sugar in it!"

"Me?!" Charli cried. "You literally handed it to her! And it was your idea! I only agreed!"

"Oh, you two are so dead," Mac glared, lumbering forward with much difficulty considering there was a 140-pound human attached to her right leg. "I swear to God, I'm gonna murder you both."

Lydia did it for her, seizing both troublemakers by the fronts of their shirts. "You think this is funny? Y/N can be fuckin' dangerous when she's hyper! She coulda run over Mini!"

Kyra looked past Lydia's shoulder to where you were snuggling into Macca's knee and babbling about racecars. "Uh—"

A smack to the back of the head shut her up real fast.

"Not now, Ky!" Charli hissed through gritted teeth.

"Tony!" Kyra pleaded as Lydia's grip on her training bib became tighter. "Tony, please!"

The manager held up his hands, walking backwards and almost tripping on the drinks cooler. "Nope. Not getting involved."

"Steph—"

The skipper looked around wildly. "I... I have to go plan your funeral! In the bathroom! Bye!"

"Ras, please—"

The Madrid player was gone before the gunner could even finish her sentence.

Lydia's eye twitched.

"Uh-oh."

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

"Y/N, babes, you good?" Ellie asked, nudging you slightly.

You blinked slowly. "Huh?"

"I'm gonna go get Mac, I'll be right back."

True to her word, the Lyon defender returned a minute later with the ever-protective older keeper at her side.

"Y/N's kind of out of it," Ellie explained as your head bobbed slightly. "I think she's crashing from the sugar."

"Aww, kiddo," Mackenzie sat beside you on the bench, using a hand to place your head on her shoulder. "It's only three, you tired?"

"Mhmm," you murmured, only half-paying attention. "Sleepy."

She sent a cowering Kyra and Charli a death glare. "Go to sleep, kid. I'm sure Tony wouldn't mind. Right, Tony?"

The manager instantly agreed, giving you both an awkward and slightly terrified thumbs-up. "I— yup. Whatever you want, girls. It's- it's totally up to you."

Lydia walked over, brushing a flyaway out of your face. "I'll bring you up to your room when we're done here. Get some rest, kid."

#mackenzie arnold #woso x reader #Lydia Williams #matildas #alanna kennedy #hayley raso #ellie carpenter #caitlin foord #charli grant #kyra cooney cross #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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occamstfs · 3 months

Text

Wouldn't It Be Funny?

Back again with a longer military tf, Hope you enjoy! - Occam

Curtis and Joseph were bored out of their minds. After growing disenchanted with university life the two were well into a gap year and have been finding progressively less stimulating ways to waste away their time. Without assignments piling up and biweekly mandatory lectures they were firmly adrift as the days of the week blur together. Curtis continues scrolling on his phone while Joseph, phone ever-so-recently dead, tries to think of anything to do while it charges back up.

“Wait! I think my brother left a stash of beer last time he visited!” Curtis looks up and squints at his friend, “the best thing you think we could be doing right now is day drinking alcohol your brother left here months ago?” Joseph makes a motion inviting Curtis to produce a better idea which goes unanswered as he rolls his eyes and gets up to accompany Joseph on this ignoble quest.

Joseph leads Curtis to the hall closet where he had apparently thrown everything his brother, Nick, had left after staying over for a couple weeks. There is some deodorant and other toiletries scattered about although the floor, first and foremost however, what catches Curtis’ eye is an army uniform laying in a heap, in the corner of the closet. There is just something about it. Any time he starts to move his attention away from it another question pops into his mind requiring a deeper inspection of the jacket. He wonders how durable the uniform actually is? It looks as if it's never been worn though he knows that Nick has certainly done some training in it. He simply must have a closer look.

Before he could act on that, the jacket he so craved was chucked at him as Joseph found his bottled quarry underneath. “Score! It’s almost full too, we can have two each and rock, paper, scissors over the last one.” Joseph heads to the kitchen well on his way to some palatable lukewarm beers as he continues to chat busily at Curtis. His roommate doesn’t hear him however as the only thing on his mind is the scratchy jacket in his arms.

He almost blushes looking down and feeling it in his arms, quite a bit heavier than he thought it would be. Surely he should toss it back with the rest of Nick’s things but it’s such a nice jacket. Quite a shame it's gone so long just sitting in their unworn. Maybe he’d just toss it on as a prank. Yeah Joseph would love that, seeing his friend in this massive jacket. His body acts quicker than his mind though, swiftly putting it on, pulling the hem down to straighten it out and pulling the sleeves up so you can just see his hands out the end.

Curtis hears his friend opening bottles in the kitchen and grins as he pictures the look on Joseph’s face as he sees him wearing this. He zips it up and struggles to get wrinkles out of the pockets before the grand reveal. No reason to not try and look legit. For it to really be funny it needs to look good. As soon as the thought that this would be funny enters his mind however he has a sharp headache and groans. No longer able to recall the incongruity of the situation as he steps out to see his friend.

Rounding the corner Curtis quickly starts what is meant to be a comedically poor salute but instead executes one with the precision of a machine. This only heightens the comedy of it all from where Joseph is standing however, halfway through a bottle of beer he chokes and spits up the beer all over the counter. He takes a moment to recover from this waste of beer before looking up once more and laughing so hard he can’t stand up straight.

Curtis in turn clenches his fist hard enough to pop a joint as he feels aggressively defensive. Why is his friend laughing at him. His back tenses with more effort than he has sustained in months, and more strength then he has wielded in a lifetime, as he cannot let this slight go unreciprocated. “What’s so funny, Kid.” Joseph looks up to see Curtis with an expression of rage more genuine than any emotion he had seen of his friend in months. It is immediately met with a flinch and a recoil as Joseph can’t bring himself to his friends’ burning gaze, “Jesus Curtis is everything alright? I thought you were doing a joke?”

A Joke? Curtis’ neck spasms breaking him out of his statuesque posture and upon rubbing a neck more muscular than he thought possible, he remembers, of course he was doing a joke! Why else would he be wearing Nick's Jacket! Smiling as he remembers how good it landed, he heads over to his friend, “Sweet you already opened a bottle for me! What’s the move now, did you want to game?”

Joseph, shell-shocked by this return to spirits, assumes that the whole thing was now some shit joke, hands his friend a beer and heads to set up his PS5, “sure whatever dude, can you get the lights?” Which Curtis quickly does, not noticing his arms definitively stretching much further out of the jacket than they should. Waiting for his friend to finish the setup Curtis paces behind the couch, each step louder than the last as he grows less careful of his footing and he continues to ever so slightly grow into this jacket.

“Can you chill dude?”

“Oh! Sorry did-”

“And why are you still wearing my brother’s jacket!”

“Your brothers-” Curtis pauses to look at the name stitched onto his chest and is also shocked that he’s wearing Nick’s jacket though decidedly not for the same reason that Joseph assumed. “Woah sorry kid? I guess I was cold? Do you want me to throw it back in the closet?”

“Just take it off dude! And stop calling me kid,” puffing as he sits back on the couch and starts to play some game Curtis feels like he should recognize before taking off the jacket and heading to put it in the closet. He scratches at his chin as he tries to work out what feels so off right now. Hanging up Nick’s jacket, sure not to leave any creases, he remembers that he’ll probably need to shave soon so he doesn’t get a mark at the next inspection, his rougher hands feeling around his sharper jaw to check the damage.

Returning to the living room he trips over what he assumes is his own feet but is embarrassed to find; Ah! It’s his jacket! Thank god he let his discipline slack here and not back at base. He picks it up as Joseph turns around hearing the stumble and begins to hurry him back before instead asking, “did you do something with your hair?” To which Curtis tilts his head like a dog before Joseph shouts once more, “Dude! Are you wearing my brother’s socks!?”

“No of course not they would never fit.” He says looking down to see the same army green socks he always wears, not Nick’s. “Well my feet do seem larger than I thought they were.” continuing as he bends down to inspect his feet, Joseph scrambles over to do similarly, though neither notices as they slowly inch even larger across the carpet. Instead Joseph is immediately thrown for a loop hearing a loud groan from his friend as he stands back up. Now almost a head taller than he was before bending down.

“Fuck dude you’re so tall!” Joseph reaches up to put his hands on his friend’s shoulders. Curtis was always taller, a fact Joseph was already none too pleased with, but this was ridiculous. He almost has to strain and as he does finally get his arms up he immediately finds thick traps under his friend’s strained shirt, “Asshole! Have you been working out without me!?”

“Of course not. When would I? Or who would I even-”

“I mean, with recruiters right?” Joseph offers forth without the thought even consciously entering his mind. It made no sense to him but it was true. Suddenly it's as if some form of static fills the minds of both the men, a warm static buzzes through Curtis’ mind and body as he starts to unconsciously put the newly reclaimed uniform back on himself. Joseph experiences something far harsher in his own mind, the static is unbearably cold and punishing. He claws at his head, no longer able to hold two ideas of who Curtis is in his mind. And it is clear which reality is prevailing as Curtis slides his thicker arms into the jacket, flexing to make sure his uniform is fitting just right.

As he begins to zip up the jacket his pecs begin to make themselves well more than apparent. His decidedly larger nipples poking out as the apparently nylon shirt hugs his defined chest and he struggles to get the zipper closed without being uncomfortably tight on his pecs before deciding to just leave it unzipped for now. “Why would I be working with recruiters, lil’ dude?” He looks confused at his friend, or his friend’s little brother? Before smirking and seizing the chance, “If anything you’re the one who should be working with them, gotta be bigger than that to join up with us!” He puts a hand on Joseph’s head messing with his hair, jolting Joseph back to this new reality.

“Curtis! Do you not think something weird is happening here!”

“Oh? Did your brother not tell you I go by Curt?”

“My brother? Fuck dude! It’s his jacket! You’re wearing his jacket again!”

“Ah no lil’ dude this one here is mine, check it!”

Joseph looks at the clear name tag on his chest clear as day with Curt’s last name on it, not noticing as he seamlessly uses Curt’s apparent preferred name. Instead he stares at a symbol over the center of Curt’s chest clearly also different than the one on his brother’s uniform. Curt smirks as he points to it himself, “Impressed kid? I’m already a Private First Class, not too hard to outpace Nick though. I mean love the guy but come on! Show some hustle! We enlisted together for a reason dude!”

Suddenly Joseph feels that this statement was a bridge too far. He feels a pit in his chest as he feels he has just lost something greater than he can understand going to slap the exemplar of a man in front of him, “Snap out of it!” Before even nearing a strike however his wrist is snatched out of the air and held fast above his head. Curt stares daggers into Joseph at this sign of aggression, this challenge. His eyes darken as his stubble grows out even more. Joseph feels Curt’s grip grow even darker watching as the hair on his arms darkens spreading out from the sleeves. He brings in Nick’s little bro closer to his face as his warm, heaving breaths distract Joseph from the pain in his upheld wrist before he lets go and guffaws, “You’ve gotta be quicker than that kid if you want to enlist with us! Where is your brother anyway? ‘S why I came over right?”

Joseph is perplexed as Curt lets him go, also unsure as to why this mammoth of a man is in his living room. They are quickly assuaged as Curt gets a text from Nick. “Oh you need a ride did ya kid? No problem! He just wants you to bring over the jacket he left over here and we’ll head on out.” Curt struggles to shove his feet in his combat shoes before finding himself distracted as the shoes push out to fit his ever larger feet.

Joseph’s mind remains a battlefield but it is clear which side is soon to rout as he heads to the closet where he just wanted to grab some beer. Inside he finds not only his brother's jacket, expertly hung, but a second one that looks almost supernaturally comfortable. He pauses before reaching out, feeling an existential aversion to the jacket hanging in his closet. before there’s a brisk breeze through the house and he shivers. Joseph quickly grabs his brothers and slides into the latter jacket, a tad too big but the world around him feels much warmer now that he has it on.

After suiting up Joseph quickly rushes back to his brother’s friend, quite wanting to make a good impression on the private first class. As he rushes his footsteps quickly grow in volume as his tennis shoes thicken into pristine combat shoes and grow far wider as his feet race to keep up, filling their increased space. Barely avoiding tripping over his now massive feet, he sees that Curt is of course not a private at all but his Corporal, as he freezes and salutes. His biceps straining his sleeves as his stained white shirt begins to slowly make room for the soldier’s expanding muscle. “At ease Joe, Let’s go ahead and head on out.”

Curt leads Joe out to his lifted truck and has him get in before loading a few more things into the bed of his truck. There is a load of clearly dirty towels in the back seat as Curt clearly has an issue bringing in laundry after his workouts. Although he doesn’t make it a habit of driving recruits so it’s not usually an issue. Sitting in the musky cabin does immediately cause issues for Joe however, as he puts the seatbelt on he feels his body start to expand in every direction it can. His pecs push against both his shirt and the seatbelt. He pulls his tight shirt down, straining it to the brim as he feels a sudden itch in his crotch. His hand already down there and finding it impossible to bring his attention anywhere else he sees his bulge push out, almost doubling in size as he scratches his increasingly overgrown pubes. He struggles to cover the impossible to miss bulge forcing his brother’s jacket over his crotch, the added pressure and warmth overwhelms him as Curt notices from outside

Curt watches as his new recruit’s shoulders broaden and his jaw widens. He slightly shifts in his seat, almost gyrating, running the hand not shoved in his pants through his hair, leaving behind a respectable high and tight demanded of any respectable recruit.

Curt slowly opens the door giving the recruit the briefest of chances to at least perform decency. Immediately wrenching the hand from his pants to salute, shouting “Sir!” towards his Corporal, eyes growing deathly serious as he touches a visibly sweat covered hand to his brow. Curt’s eyes glint as he notices the action flung Nick’s jacket off and exposed Joe’s still expanding bulge and unzipped pants. The two feel a hunger starting to grow in their chests as Curt hops into the driver's seat. Adjusting his rear view as he juts up once more in height, his jacket making it apparent to all he is now a sergeant, Curt begins to drive off towards the base.

Curt puts his hand on Joe’s inner thigh, overstimulating the private who roughly clenches his jaw trying to keep it together. He feels pre start to soak through Joe’s fatigues as he starts to rub his thigh. Grunting as he too feels a powerful stirring in his crotch, his cock forcing itself further down his leg. “Wouldn’t want to stop at my place first, would ya’ Joe?” Joe stares at the sergeant ahead of him with a lust deeper than the can understand, and a hunger to grow even larger. Curt chuckles, “gotta release some of this energy before we break the new to Nick anyway.” He turns his car and begins to race towards his apartment on the base.

As the heat in the car begins to fog up the windows the two men could not remember anything besides who they were since joining the army. After an anything but quick fuck, they would get back to work on the base. Curt distracts himself as he commands his troops and Joe gets ready for his promotion ceremony, ready to rub it in his brother’s face that he was already going to be higher ranked. The two follow orders flawlessly as they always have, performing their duties with rigor. The only thing more present on their minds than dedication to their fellow soldiers being the excitement for the next time they are to fuck.

#masculinization #mental change #male tf #army tf #male transformation #muscle tf #reality change

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fullfriendnerdclutch · 2 months

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Richard actually preferred to spent his Spring Break lounging around his quaint and peaceful university town. But, since his Uncle drove all the way down to pick him up unannounced, simply because Richard is in the same state now, not like he could just shush that man away so he lazily packed his bag and hit the road with the 43 years old hulk of a DILF

They didn't talk much throughout the long trip into the farmland as Richard pretended to fall asleep before eventually really falling asleep on the way there. But he's dead wrong to assume that his Uncle is unaware of his avoidance. In fact, that very attitude is the sole reason why his Uncle came all the way down to pick him up. It's time to mold Richard into the perfect Dawson boys, and Spring Break provides the best timeline in order for Richard to hit his final alteration right during summer

When the pair arrived at the sprawling farm, Richard realized how stinking rich his family must be with all these acres of land under their possession. It's been more than a decade since he last visited the family farm, but clearly this visit will leave him with the memory about the family farm much more clearly. His uncle let him rest for the remainder of the day, he even fell asleep right after his quick dinner and cleaning himself. But Richard didn't expect that he needs to do some hard labour the following morning!

"Your cousin Adam is spending some time with his sickly wife while Steve took off for the entirety of this Spring Break to spend time with his kids. So I need your help, boy,"

"Wait, Adam is married?"

"Yes, a year ago, don't you remem--- oh yeah, you were on your gap year trip,"

The tone his uncle used irked Richard a bit, gap year trip, but he let it go. His mind is focused on the fact that Adam is the same age as him, and he's married? At 20? 19 if he considered the fact it happened a year ago.....what a totally different life the two of them have. His uncle snapped Richard's out of his mind as he told the pale, gangly-looking Richard to put on the boots before helping him around the farm and the ranch. Richard at first doubted that he could fit into the boots, but somehow it fits him just right. So, off he goes with his uncle

Day after day, the routine remained the same. He will wake up at around 5 or 6 AM, have his loaded breakfast and head out with his uncle. He surprisingly found himself enjoying the routine, he even started to address his Uncle with "Sir" and cooked the breakfast for the two. He simply didn't notice the change in his reflection on how his skin tanned on its own, how his form straightened rather than hunched per usual, how all his clothings somehow altered to solely consist of black t-shirt, jeans and some plaid shirt and he just didn't bother to ask his uncle for the whereabouts of his other clothing. He also failed to notice how his uncle has been subliminally planting in his subconsciousness that he enjoyed working in the farm, that he preferred to be called Dick since Richard sounded too posh for him, that Dick has always been interested with farming and the idea to continue the family's business, that Dick wanted to recruit some good trusted friends of his to join the family's business and how he needs to pivot to study about agriculture or farming in uni.....well, scratch that, he will probably drop out later in the summer and learn better about farming or agriculture by working with his Uncle.

Imagine the surprise his roommates got when Richard went back from his Spring Break 30 lbs heavier and looking like a Southern farm stud with his outfit and the way he got this drawl out of nowhere. And he apparently have a souvenir too for them

"Got these from my Uncle, now, try to put these babies on and tell me how it feels,"

---

Fast forward to summer, not only Dick really followed through with his drop out plan, he brings along his now much-more fitting roommate to join him in the farm

Hey there, a bit rushed with this execution but hope it's still an enjoyable read

#personality change #male muscle growth #male transformation

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thehusbandoden · 10 months

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You Flinch During an Argument -Bakugo Katsuki

I finished this yesterday but forced myself to wait to post it due to my one part a day pattern I've had going on.

Anyways~ as I said in Shoto's part, I did make this one a bit angstier, but I hope I didn't stray too far away from the original prompt :'). It's kinda bittersweet lol but I kinda like it.

Angst to fluff/Comfort | Kinda bittersweet~ | 993 words | female reader

Warnings!: arguing, yelling, being scared of your partner, parents arguing (the kids were not present), kids being left at school (not for very long), caps, excuses, self hatred, and insulting themselves (Bakugo). Please let me know if I miss any <33

You both had been fighting for at least half an hour, screaming at one another for this and that. It started with Bakugo 'forgetting' to pick up your sons from school, and has now escalated into you screaming at him for not 'caring about this family' and his yelling about how hard he works for your family.

No one was totally to blame, both parties had some points that were right, and some that were wrong. But it should have never reached that point.

~~~

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD I WORK TO PROVIDE FOR THIS FAMILY! I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU BEGGED FOR KIDS THAT I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HELP OUT MUCH! WHAT ELSE DO YOU EXPECT FROM ME!"

"I UNDERSTAND THAT- BUT YOU'VE HAD THREE DAYS OFF! YOU'RE FULLY RESTED- AND SHOULD'VE PICKED UP THE KIDS NO PROBLEM WHILE I WAS HELPING OUT YOUR MOM!"

"WELL WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO! I FORGOT ABOUT IT, OKAY! AND YOU DIDN'T CALL TO REMIND ME EITHER!"

"I EXPECTED YOU TO HAVE ENOUGH BRAINS TO REMEMBER, BUT I GUESS THAT WAS IDIOTIC OF ME!"

"I HAVE SO MUCH TO DEAL WITH BESIDES THIS BULL CRAP THAT'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY! I WORK, YOU TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS!"

"KATSUKI I CANNOT WATCH THE KIDS 24-7 WITHOUT YOUR HELP! I NEED BREAKS TOO! YOU HAVE TWO DAYS OFF A WEEK TO RELAX, AND CATCH UP ON SLEEP! WHILE I HAVE NIGHT TIME, BATHROOM BREAKS, RUNNING ERANDS, AND NAP TIMES TO CATCH A BREAK! I SHOULD BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY HUSBAND TO HELP OUT WHEN HE HAS TIME OFF!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTED THE KIDS IN THE FIRST PLACE- WHY ARE YOU WHINING TO ME ABOUT HAVING TO TAKE CARE OF 'EM!"

"WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THEY AREN'T YOURS!? WE BOTH AGREED ON DOING THE BEST WE COULD FOR OUR KIDS, AND YOU SAID THAT YOU'D HELP OUT WHENEVER YOU COULD!"

"Y/N IT WAS THIS ONE TIME- I WAS BUSY, I FORGOT!"

"YOU WERE PLAYING GAMES ALL DAY WITH YOUR FRIENDS! THAT IS NOT BUSY!"

Blazing anger filled Bakugo as he stepped towards you, planning on simply getting closer to you to somehow try and make you see his side of things. He didn't mean to forget about picking up his kids, he loves his kids, he was simply engrossed in talking about them to his friends as he gamed, totally forgetting about the time and the fact that they were at school, waiting for someone to pick them up.

In truth, Bakugo felt bad. Really bad. But you wouldn't stop, so he continued, his unwavering pride making it near impossible to simply apologize and leave the argument behind.

Storming towards you, Bakugo stopped dead in his tracks as you flinched from him, eyes holding a certain terror. Wait- did you- did you think he was going to hurt you?!

Apologies and 'are you okay's were caught in Bakugo's throat as he opened his mouth, too terrified to speak.

Y/n.. his y/n was scared..of him. HIs y/n- the person that tore him out of his 'I don't care about anything or anyone' stage. She brought him out of his dark pit of self loathing, hating himself for how weak he was, how he couldn't do anything compared to that idiot Deku. She brought light into his world, she is his light. His first and last love, his wife, his center, his other half, his partner, his reason for life, the mother of his children, his one and only lover, his queen, his everything.

And he scared her.

Screamed at her for something that was his fault.

Treated her so badly that she flinched away from him- terror filling her eyes.

Her gorgeous e/c eyes. The same eyes that his sons had inherited. Now he's brought tears to three sets of those goregous eyes. What a scum bag.

Pain seared through Bakguo as he embraced his y/n, knowing if he left now she would entirely break, thinking that he was giving up on her. On their love. When in reality, he would't be. He would never dream of leaving her, or their beautiful children.

Because no matter how much of an a-hole Bakugo may be, he would never stoop that low. Never. And so he held her, and continued to hold her as she tearfully cussed him out, telling him how much she loved him and how much of an a-hole he was for treating her like that, their kids like that.

He just held her, telling her that he was sorry, that he knew, that he would make it up to her -and their seven year old twins- somehow.

And for now, that was enough. His love, and comfort was enough as you clung to him, insulting him while telling him that you loved his idiotic self in the same sentence, telling him that you loved him too much to not be able to forgive him.

And that if he was serious about making things right, that you would help him.

Because you were Bakugo y/n*. You chose to take his name and become his wife. Bakugo has helped you through so many up and downs, so you would do the same for him. Because he truly loved you, and you truly loved him.

*Japanese last names go in front of the first name to pay respect to the family name, and that's why Kirishima and Bakugo's other classmates call him Bakugo instead of Katsuki -to pay respect to his family name-. So you would be (in Japan anyway) Bakugo y/n (if you choose to take his last name) and strangers/aquaintnesses/not so close friends and co-workers would call you Bakugo instead of y/n. Annd due to me not liking Bakugo a whole lot I call him Bakugo or Baka/Bakuhoe instead of Katuski and call Todoroki and Midoriya, Shoto and Izuku- do you get what I'm saying?? I hope you do <33

Series' masterlist | Bakahoe's Bakugou's masterlist | Main masterlist | Navigation

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated<33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

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denjjisgf · 4 months

Text

SHE LIVES IN MY LAP

megumi fushiguro x reader

SYNOPSIS ✧˚⋆｡ in an unexpected turn of events, you find yourself falling into the sheets with a new friend. as the days get shorter and nights no longer sticky and hot, your insatiable summer hookup appears to be more than just a seasonal arrangement.

CONTENT WARNINGS✧˚⋆｡ general: 18+ minors dni, alcohol consumption, megumi is a fuckboy sex!! minors dni!!! nsfw: afab (she/her) reader, vaginal sex, oral (m&f! receiving), 69ing, m! masturbation

W/C✧˚⋆｡9.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE✧˚⋆｡ hihi! it's been so long since i've written anything. this a repost of a series i decided to scrap, i've decided to come back from the dead to finish it in a one- shot! i hope everyone likes it __〆(￣ー￣ )

playlist

JUNE✧˚⋆

notification center:

[ suguru:: we’ll be there in ten. make sure to bring sunscreen! ]

[ satoru:: and make sure to wear something skimpy ;) ]

you set down your phone with huff, trying to suppress a chuckle at your friends. checking the time one last time, you scramble to get the last of your things, tossing everything and anything in your bag. three rasps at the door stops you in your tracks, your sandal clad feet patter to your front door as you wonder who could possibly be here. standing in the frame was gojo, forearm lazily propped against the wood, leaning into you with a proud look on his face.

“you guys said ten minutes, it’s been three, satoru. i’m still not ready.”

cerulean eyes peer down at you over gojo’s staple circle frames, a smug smile adorning his face as he gives you a quick up and down look. “well, good thing you still have time to change. i said skimpy, i know you can do better,” he says with a smile and mocking tone. almost as if it was rehearsed, the lanky silver fox’s partner in crime pops his head out behind gojo’s shoulder. “don’t be mean satoru!” suguru says with a playful slap on gojo’s shoulder. “you look great, y/n. let’s head out!”

the car ride to the docks is just as you had expected: chaotic. the two men argued the entire way, each one convinced they knew the best way to a place they have never been too. and at gojo’s instance, the three of you ended up taking a twenty minute detour in the wrong direction. when you finally pull into the dirt parking lot, suguru turns in his seat to face you in the backseat, “we’re here,” he says, a hand scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry about the confusion earlier. satoru said he looked up directions before we left, but i should’ve known better than to trust him.”

“what are you talking about? look! we are here!” gojo’s exclaims pridefully, swinging open his door and stepping out. he stretches, hands linking together over his head with a sigh, his loose t-shirt raising just a little to expose his milky white skin and toned body. “and it’s all thanks to my great directional skills.”

your door opens suddenly, suguru’s head peeking inside wearing his gentle and familiar smile, linking his arm with yours to pull you out of the backseat. “so,” you turn to suguru questioningly, “how exactly do you two know these people?”

instead, gojo replies, quick and concise. sneaky almost. “close friends. we go way back. i practically raised those kids, taught ‘em everything they know.” suguru snickers at his friend’s words, the pair exchanging a dangerous glance that, if you didn’t know them as well as you did, you would’ve missed. “almost a little too well, if you asked me,” the dark hair man added, lips upturned into an innocent smile, but eyes deadly and secretive. all too knowing if you said so yourself. the two men continued on the path towards the docks where the party was being held, long strides keeping themselves paces ahead of you, ending the conversation abruptly.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you shout expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer, but dying on the inside to know. suguru stops in his tracks, head looking over his shoulder and gaze falling on your own.

“what’s the fun in telling you now?”

ᰔ summer was megumi’s favorite time of year. it always brought his favorite things: reckless decisions and girls in bikinis. he made a sport of feeding hot girls sugar sweet words like frozen strawberry daiquiris, serenading them into his bed night after night. his friends’ annual summer kickoff party was his ideal playing field, so many people, so many choices, he never knows where to start.

you see, there are several factors that went into the tradition of their party. now that he and nobara left for college, yuuji, commuting locally, prepared the get to together in their arrival. a proper summer kickout. on the surface level, it appeared to be a fun, festive way for people to get shitfaced, washing away the stress and anxiety of finals with clear liquor and cheap beer, but for megumi, it was so much more than that. when summer finally rolls around, the heat melts off layers of clothes, making everyone hot and bothered in other ways besides the weather. it’s everyone’s fantasy to have a silver screen summer fling, after all, no one wants to spend the hottest time of year alone. this party was the perfect setting for lonely women to lay some groundwork and find the perfect rent-a-boyfriend for three months. and what’s better than horny, hopeful women?, megumi thought.

megumi plays his role of the cool, calm, and collected silent guy like a pro, having girls all on him or stealing glances and fluttering their lashes when he comes around. he smiles to himself, scrolling through the new additions to his contacts list. the familiar ring of laughter causes his ears to perk up, raising his head to find the friendly faces of gojo and suguru. trailing behind them was someone he had never met.

who, are you?

his stare drifted to meet gojo’s, the white haired man pushing his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose and raising an eyebrow with a taunting smirk. megumi didn’t need words to know what gojo was telling him- come say hello, i know you want to. he turns to face the other direction, legs moving to walk as far away from you before curiosity gets the best of him and he caves into gojo’s all too tempting game.

nursing a solo cup filled with god knows what, megumi stalks you the entire party. he can’t seem to take his eyes off you, being short and brash when girls come up to him, focus completely astray and only on you. his eyes widen, swallowing thickly as he watches suguru and gojo tug and pull at your coverup, nudging you to undress and get in the water with them. gojo pulls your hands into his own, holding them up above your head. he yanks you closer, bringing your face inches from his own causing you to recoil into suguru’s chest, ass pressed firmly to the front of his hips. turning to look his younger friend dead in the eyes, the smallest glint of daring challenge reflecting in suguru’s dilating pupils, fingers teasingly playing with the hem of your sundress.

megumi glares. hard. jealousy disguised as irritation, his jaw ticks at the spectacle his friends are putting on. regardless, he feels himself get warm, fidgeting with the collar of a shirt that he wasn’t wearing and readjusting the discomfort in his swim trunks. he watches, making eye contact with suguru, who has long since abandoned his hovering position and settled below you, face in front of your ass. large hands slide the flowy fabric up your thighs, bunching it at the tops of your hips and sliding a finger under the waistband of your bikini bottoms, snapping it against your skin. you gasp at the sudden smack to your sensitive skin, your mouth making a pretty o shape that has megumi’s eyes rolling. “oops, my bad i didn't mean to snag you there,” the dark haired man purrs, soothing the sting with a careful rub. you shove the two of them away, a scowl dressed on your face, “i can undress myself without the help of you idiots. what are you doing?” despite your tone, megumi can clearly see your frazzled state, red blush spread across your cheeks and chest.

you dirty girl, i bet you liked that, huh?

megumi’s mind was running a hundred miles an hour. he couldn’t stand to be here anymore. you had long abandoned your dress and your bathing suit left little to the imagination. the straps of your top digging into your neck, triangles cover the bare minimum of your breasts leaving them spilling out the sides. sitting down in a lounger, he faked innocence, sunglasses set high on the bridge of his nose to cover his wandering eyes. he kept a close eye on you throughout the party, observing the way your body moved as you danced, as you emerged from the water, wet and dripping.

the last straw was when suguru and gojo convinced you to join them at the makeshift bar on the shore. the two men took turns mixing you drinks in plastic cups, laughing at your pinched face as you downed drink after drink, the bitter taste of alcohol making you stick your pretty, pink tongue out in disgust. yet, you continued to take cups from your friends, enjoying the light fuzziness and lowered inhibitions taking over your body. raising your cup to you lips, suguru tipped the bottom to make you down the contents, the burning sensation of liquor running down your throat and trickling out of the corners of your shiny lips. long slender fingers pluck the plastic cup from your hands with a chuckle, “woahh, slow down there. you’re making an awful mess of yourself.” gojo tilts your face up to his own and checks to make sure megumi is watching. he brings his thumb to swipe away the remnants of the sticky liquid running down your chin and licks it off his finger. that’s it, megumi thought, standing up from his seat to leave the party, his nerves beyond irritated from his friend’s incessant dick measuring.

“yo! megumi!” yuuji calls out, running towards his raven haired friend. “do me a favor and run up the road to get some ice bags! the beers are drowning in warm water right now,” with a firm grasp on your wrist, the energetic boy spins you away from your conversation and straight into a stranger with a thud. your hand laid flat against the expanse of their chest, holding yourself steady from yuuji’s previous uncontrolled movements.

“i even found you a buddy to go with you! megumi, meet y/n.”

“it’s, uhm-” he falters, hints of crimson bashfully spread over his cheeks, conscious of the heat your palm emanates onto his bare skin, manicured nails scratching lightly over his peck and sending shivers down his spine. he felt like a fool, finally getting the opportunity to have you and all he can do is fumble over his words. your doe eyes were wide and glossy from the alcohol, and what only you know as desire. looking into his eyes, dark and narrowed, attention solely focused on you, you feel yourself get hot. shy almost. you chalk it up to being tipsy bordering on drunk.

“c’mon bro, take the keys,” the jingle of car keys cut short as megumi brings his hand up to catch the lanyard haphazardly tossed at him. “now hurry up! everyone’s waiting!” megumi rolls his eyes and takes your hand in his own, dragging you towards the parking lot. “hold on, let me tell my friends i’m leaving! what if you kill me or something?”

“don’t worry about it, gojo and geto were invited here by me. you’ll be fine.” you stop in your tracks, almost losing your balance in the soft sand, “wait, so you’re the one who invited us.”

“invited them, you mean. just,” he sighs with frustration,”let’s go, i want to get there and back.” he drops your hand and begins to walk away, leaving you in his shadow. “are you coming or not?” he asks, looking over his shoulder, low eyes and the smallest of smiles, willful temptation written all over his face.

“yea. i’m coming.”

leaving a few steps of space between yourselves, megumi leads you through the maze of the parking lot. stopping at a car you can only assume as yuuji’s, you watch the dark haired boy squeeze his way to the passenger’s side door and opening it. “i’ve been drinking, i really shouldn’t drive.”

he sighs, shoulders dropping in exasperation as if he can’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth. in an instant, you feel his hand wrapped delicately around your wrist, fingers hovering over your pulse point, your heart beating faster as he slides you front of him and ushers you into the seat. he leans into you, faces inches from yours and eye contact never breaking. for just a moment, the two of you drink in the sights of each other. you admire the faint scatter of sun blessed freckles on the bridge of his nose, the curvature of his lips, soft and slightly pouted. and in this moment, you can’t help but find him attractive. just for a moment though.

“don’t you think i know that? you practically crawled on all fours to catch up.”

he moves swiftly, pulling the seat belt over your lap, clicking it into place. you look to the side, avoiding his stare and he can do everything but ignore the subtle pink dusting across the highpoints of your face, the smallest of indents forming as you bit the inside of your cheek, deep in thought. you were bothered by his words and he loved it. something about seeing you like this, annoyed and bothered. he needed to see more. as wrong as it was, he was losing it, he could feel himself being pushed to the edge, the threads of intricate control being snipped, leaving him loose and fraying. megumi loved his flirtatious games too much, but needed more time to pull you apart, like lovesick girls do to flowers, petal after petal till nothing was left. bare.

“too tight?” he asks. you shake your head, unable to speak, words unspoken on your tongue and thoughts void from you mind, plucked away by his nimble touch and wrapped around his finger. “let’s go then.”

ᰔ “soo,” his hand meets to back of your headrest. “do you like to cuddle?” he cranes his neck, hooded eyes low and lazy as he searches the back windshield, reversing from the parking spot.

your faces twists with displeasement, jaw dropped and eyebrows knitted together, “what kind of fucking question is that?”

“the kind of question to get you to make that face,” his voice honeyed and teasing as he counters your expected response. silence fills the car, satisfaction spread out in a small smile and slightly crinkled eyes as megumi soaks in your frazzled reaction. he likes to see you irritated, to push your buttons. megumi likes to toy with headstrong women, to make them whining messes for an arrogant man. an asshole. you could practically hear the winning bell ring: megumi, one. his game of banter beginning with your speechless defeat.

but he was gorgeous. his hair dark and perfectly messy, his bangs swooped low enough to shape his face but show off his eyes. colored like a storm, you could stare into them for hours. the summer sun did his justice, his tanned skin glistening under its magnification. a physique of the gods, you try not to stare and he pretended not to notice.

you settle into your seat, the alcohol catching up and sending your head spinning. watching out the window, you fall into your thoughts, figuring out a way to break the silence. “so what’s your deal?” you exclaim, folding your hands into your lap and turning to look at megumi, focused on the road and contently ignoring you. “i know you have so much going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”

“y’know, i saw you drink a lot, maybe you should stop talking and save these questions for later? maybe when you’re sober?”

you roll your head to your shoulder to turn to him with small smirk. oh, so he wants to be like that, “and i saw you talking to a lot of girls, maybe you should stop being a slut?”

he chuckles, side eyeing you with a playful glare and a tick in his jaw, clearly enjoying the banter. “i bet you think you’re real funny.”

“and you must think you’re cute. we all have our flaws, megumi.”

he slides his palm along the wheel, turning into a parking spot and bringing the car to a stop. he hops out of the driver’s side, jogging around front of the car and opens your door. he follows you over to the white cooler in the front of the convenience store where you play with the padlock, the hinges creaking as pull the handle open.

reaching into the ice cooler you tug on the bag relentlessly. megumi brings his hand to grip onto the door’s frame, leaning in behind you, his breath shallow and warm against the shell of your ear. “do you need help?” the sheeted ice cementing the plastic down to the bottom of the container loosens as it cracks, “from you? no thanks.” you lean down into the cooler to yank on the bag with better leverage, determined to prove a point: you did not need help, and you didn’t need megumi either. the plastic tears from the bag and your hand flies up causing you to stumble backwards, banging your head on the roof of ice box. you yelp, quick to bring a hand up to your throbbing head, wincing at the touch. you turn to lean your back against the cool metal only to be met by megumi, who takes the opportunity to get closer, his hands cupping your face with concern. he makes room for himself between your legs, inching closer to you, “are you alright? does it hurt?”

he leans in closer as he flits his gaze from your eyes to your lips as if he’s done this a million times.

it all happens so fast. you blink and he’s rushing you, pressing his lips firmly against your own. you tug at his shirt, opening your mouth when he runs his tongue over your bottom lip tantalizing slow, tasting you thoroughly. you both walk backwards, lost in the kiss, until you feels the hood of the car hit the back of your calves. you break away from each other panting lightly, your hand caressing alongside his jaw and his own planted firmly on your waist. you nod your head, motioning towards the car and he smiles.

he can’t keep his hands off of you. his hand scrambles to open the door, too distracted by the curves of your body, missing the handle a few times. you grab onto his shoulder, ushering him a few steps forward, pushing him in front of you to make room for the door as it swings open. “get inside,” he whispers shakily. his mind is racing, his voice long gone of its normal confidence to command.

you fall back, your skin making contact with the leather, hot to the touch and sticking to your sweat sheened back. you run your fingers through his hair as lowers to meet you, his knee bent between your legs, one hand parting your thighs, inviting himself in. scrambling back to make room, you seat yourself back pressed against the inside door. his hand comes up to the window with a slap, bracing himself above of you. your hand cradles his face, your thumb stroking along his jaw, before enveloping his lips with yours once again. you taste sweet like peaches, hints of tequila on your tongue as you take turns welcoming each other into your mouths. you mimic his breathless moans of pleasure and fill the car with your whines, your hips colliding with his thigh as you mindlessly grind against him. your kisses become sloppy, teeth gnashing and spit everywhere, desperation and need filling both of you to the brim.

clutching his shirt in your fist, you use the momentum to push him into seat position, swinging one knee over his leg, and grounding yourself in his lap. he kisses you feverishly, his head light and spinning, completely overwhelmed by the intoxicating taste of you. adrenaline coursed through his veins at your movements, hips grinding slowly on top of him, relieving the pain of his aching cock. you thread your hands through his hair, carding through his soft locs before tugging his head back to expose his neck. a moan slips from his lips, pink, spit slicked and swollen while you smear kisses on his collarbone. he paws at your chest, he pulls your breasts out from your bikini top, taking a moment to admire you.

“you’re so hot. i haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since i saw you,” he groans, a palm pressed to the small of your back he leans into you, taking your nipple into his mouth. you bring a hand up to rest on the crown of his head, moans spilling from your lips, coaxing him to continue. he eats up all of you. mentally recording every inch of your body, every cry sounding heaven in his ears, just to shamelessly replay this moment for his convenience. his hips cant with yours, messily grinding for relief when he reaches to pull his trunks down. “m-megumi, wait,” you plead and cup his face with both hands. he stops, panting between the valley of your chest, catching his breath while nuzzling against you. “not now, not here.”

the two of you drove back to the lake in silence. separately your thoughts run wild at what just happened. pulling into a parking spot, megumi turns to you in the passenger’s seat, mouth agape slightly, the words you both want to hear on the tip of his tongue. he needs to see you again. the last thing megumi had expected this morning was to share a heated makeout session in the backseat of his best friend’s car with a borderline stranger. he never acts out of impulse, every decision thought out and calculated with precision. what you both had done crossed so many lines in megumi’s mind. honestly, what was he thinking?! it was broad daylight, parked in front of a mini convenience shop, while on a trip the two of you managed to stretch 20 minutes longer than it should have. he should be racked with guilt. he should be ashamed of his lack of self control. and if he was smarter, he should have never agreed to leave with you when yuuji asked. but something festered deep inside him, flipping up every stone of reason and leaving the boy on his hands and knees, grasping at the cool, level-headed persona he once had down to a t.

twisting your head slightly, you scanned his face, searching for a clue- anything- to what he might say next. your fingers drummed on the car door, suddenly self conscious under his scrutinizing gaze. almost as if he sensed your discomfort, megumi drops his head down low to meet your eyes, a feather light slide of his fingers under your chin to draw you closer. a breath stops dead in your throat at his close proximity, noses grazing against one another as his takes his lower lip in between his teeth before looking sideways out the windshield. yuuji comes barreling at you two with an open smile, two cans held sloppily in both hands.

“‘s about time! what took so long? were you guys fucking or something?” he stutters out, a drunken flush to his sun kissed skin. megumi chokes at his friend’s comment, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously and guilt so obviously displayed on his face. you elbow him, motioning to grab the bags of ice in the backseat. you watch his arm reach down, the muscles in his bicep and forearms flexing deliciously, making your head spin and the dull throb of your arousal grow steadily. you have got to get out of this car. it was hard enough to keep your hands off of him in the parking lot earlier, but he was just too close. too accessible. too desirable. the things you wanted to do to him, the positions you wanted to bend into for him making you swoon.

lost in your daydreams, you had failed to notice yuuji’s perplexed face and megumi’s shameful pout, like a puppy that chewed up its owner’s shoe, the energy now tense. “we forgot to buy the ice.”

ᰔ the worst part about apartment buildings are the thin walls. unfortunately for the neighbors of megumi’s current conquest and tomorrow’s history, they are the ones being royally screwed over that evening. bangs and thuds came from mutually sharing walls and laminate wood flooring belonging to a girl whose name megumi can’t seem to remember. rolling off her body and over onto the sheets, megumi stares up at the ceiling, a blank expression worn on his face.

a hand creeps up his chest, a singular finger dragging up over the valley of his abs and scratching lightly over his chest teasingly. his mind begins to race, arousal causing his dick to twitch under the thin cotton sheets. megumi is no stranger to scores of nail shapes and crescents on his skin, littering his body, but this time, it just feels…well, it feels wrong. since your encounter the other day, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind, his body buzzing with the excitement of a chase, of someone who won’t cave in right away and give him what he wants, of someone different. the physical gesture of the woman lying besides him so genuine can’t be anything but superficial when it’s your handprint branded into his skin instead.

as soon as light snores fill the room, megumi rises from the bed, picking up his scattered clothes, eyes adjusting to dark. his phone buzzes on the nightstand next to him, the low vibration close to inaudible, but his ears pique up in anticipation. the screen illuminates a long awaited text message from an unknown number followed by another incoming notification; “come over.”

he had begged gojo and geto days ago for your number, swallowing his pride and stooping low to get the chance to see you again. at first, they had told him no, savoring the moment of keeping you their little secret and away from their junior’s prying eyes and wandering hands. it wasn’t often that the two had something megumi couldn’t. but after some calculated bribery and forced compliments and praise, gojo had slid your contact card into megumi’s messages. he had texted you immediately, too impatient to wait any longer and all too eager to get you underneath him, but his only response was a delivered text and empty chat.

copying the address you sent, he pastes it into the maps app on his phone, his fingers shaking, adrenaline and desire replacing the blood in his pounding heart and sending it straight to his head. he’s delirious, head spinning and eyes blown out from lust. he feels like a teenage boy again, completely void of control and arousal raging throughout his entire body, consuming him whole. grabbing his keys, he opens the front door of the apartment and takes off.

JULY✧˚⋆

ᰔ you’re deep into summer now, the buzz of power lines gentle while the world spins on around you. everyone has settled into the season, your city now booming with vacationers– seasonal and first timers– while locals stick to tradition. you love it, the late night bonfires, the crowds along the pier, seasonal fruit stands and sunrises. july is a constant stream of life and excitement, you thrive in the feeling of endless possibilities.

shortly after the first time megumi pulled up to your place, he found himself tapping his homescreen, waiting for your texts nightly. you’d call for him and he would show up, the gas tank full and heart beating fast. he’d drive you to the not so secret secret look out spot, a perfect view of the valley and the lake, before unfolding you in the backseat with lust alone. yet only he knows this himself, deep down, that megumi would’ve gladly ripped open his chest and handed you his heart if it meant you could stay by his side in the eternal summer heat.

over the past month, you realized you hadn’t learned much about megumi. you knew he was simple. liked what he liked and didn’t what he didn’t. he never did stuff he didn't want to do, but acted selflessly at times. he was smart, always the most intelligent person in the room, for better or for worse. there was an unnerving edge to the man’s impenetrable walls that irritated you. despite the lack of intimate exchanges of emotion, you could no longer deny the feelings you had when you were with him. you had to tell him.

you couldn’t shake the fear of everything crashing and burning, your heart being stomped on when you inevitably find megumi buried in another person. he shamelessly used women, gardening a persona of the stoic playboy while away at college. if someone asked for proof, he’s got more than enough ‘are you up?’ messages and shameless videos reeking from his phone, the stench of his sexual conquests known without the visuals. he’s been spending so much time with you. he wouldn’t have the time to be messing around with other people, right? you tell yourself. just have fun, it’s a fling. it’s just sex. nothing more… right?

most nights, you’re straddling megumi in the driver's seat, one hand bracing yourself on the wheel, the other sliding against the center console, and both of you moaning at the sight of you slowly sinking down on his cock.

“god, you feel so good. this all for me?” he slurs at the warm hug your pussy greets him with, “just accept it, this filthy pussy is mine.” he fucks you open with precision, molding your insides to fit him and only him. you pant, your lips open in the prettiest shape and drool collecting in your mouth while the stretch of him burns just right. veins prominent like he’s pumping iron, he grips on the fat of your hips to hold you up, your legs shaking while you slam down to meet his hips halfway. everything is so lewd, sweat perspirated on your foreheads and pressed together to breathe the same air. your eyes meet and he whines, the slapping sound of his balls hitting your ass fills the car.

leaning back a little, you arch your back and let the moonlight bathe you from the foggy windshield. the coolness of the air relieves you from heat of his body moments before. he’s slowed down now, pushing his cock up to bury itself deeper inside of you with a slow grind. bringing his hand up to smack your tit hard, he leaves you red before smoothing away the pain with a tug on your nipple. a free hand finds comfort on your back while he takes your breast it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and nipping playfully when he pulls away. meeting your gaze, megumi’s dick throbs inside you at the sight and you feel him thicken and speed up his pace.

“ah! o-oh my,” you’re cut short by the graze of his teeth along your bare chest, ghosting bites and leaving wet kisses. your walls coax him in with every thrust. you’re close and he’s gone, you feel him chasing after his orgasm as he draws you closer to yours.

“megumi please- don’t stop! right there, megumi, -ah!”

megumi moans, ropes of hot cum spilling over his hands as he falls back his pillows. it’s been a week since you’ve texted him. it’s been a week since that time in the car and he’s still chasing that feeling of your slick dripping down his dick while you squeezed him of everything he’s got. he feels unsatisfied while he takes a tissue and cleans himself, longing for your tongue wrapping around him, swallowing the load he haphazardly tosses into the wastebin.

raking his hands through his hair, loose strands fall back to cover his eyes, and he searches his bedsheets for his phone. chains of messages and attachments crowded his notification center but none from you. he was disinterested in everyone but you; he thought about you constantly, wondering what you were doing at any given moment. he was infatuated and beyond annoyed. why are you suddenly playing hard to get? why do i miss you so much?

he never worked this hard, he was overly confident in his skills of making women scream and curl in his hands. but your quiet remarks of praise, the smallest “yes, megumi” or “megumi it feels so good” he’d do anything to hear that breathy tone you used just for him. now it’s been a week and he’s starting to miss you more than ever.

ᰔ everyone has their favorite time of day. there are people that chase dawn like a dream and those who thrive in the mid hours. there are people who wait, soaking in the maturity of time till the late hours. and yours, were the times of day you laid in bed with megumi.

a few midnight dates later, the boundary between you two was redrawn as megumi chased your up the stairs to your place. after a long night of 21 questions and the pad of mad libs you bought together now complete, you had settled into the car seats with heads turned to share a gaze for what felt like an infinity. summer lived around you, the sounds of insects and faint traffic in the background but inside the car with megumi, you were forever frozen. his phone chimes and the moment faded under the fluorescent light. “do you want to get that?” you asked, looking at the phone and back at him.

“no. not really.” he reached for your hand, flipping it so his palm is flat against yours. locking eyes with your own, he spoke softly, “i was wondering if i could stay the night.”

graduating from the backseat, the two of you learned your bodies moved in sync, following the same mess of footsteps in the hall and onto your bed. he spun his hands over every inch of your body, devoted all night and getting lost in you as if it was the first time all over again. afterwards you’d laugh hours into in the morning, waking to outstretch in an empty bed, wondering what time he left this time.

from the very night you slid into his passenger seat, you were trapped. locked in by seatbelt, megumi became the driver of your summer’s escapade. night after night, days turned weeks, you grew to purr for the sound of his engine pulling up to the street in front of your house. his smile, those words of adoration he lets slip when you touch on him just the way he likes. what was once playful was treading dangerous waters. you chewed the cherry stem of your milkshake and woke up in the concerned look drawn on gojo’s face.

“have anything you wanna share with the group?” he teased, gesturing to the empty booth. you two would take a break in the week to catch up and meet at your favorite diner. normally it was all jokes and gossip. you made it a rule not to talk to gojo about his friends, the messy group being a tense subject for him at times, a can of worms that explodes into angst and a soured mood. you felt off based to talk to him about megumi, since all you know about their relationship is that it’s rocky. but a part of you is dying for solace and gojo knows megumi better than anyone, so you decide to take a chance.

“i’m worried my feelings for megumi are more than a crush.” gojo looks up at you quick, surprised by your forthright response. “oh, we’re getting straight into it,” he pushes his drink out of the way and folds his hands attentive on the table, grinning like a fool. you hadn’t talked to him about megumi since he asked for permission to give the man your number. “shut up, you asked- and it’s not like it’s love or anything! we’ve only been hooking up, y’know, here and there.” you ramble, filling the silence with excuses and filler, dancing around what you truly mean to say. gojo could see right through you. the truth was, you did love megumi. you wanted to be with megumi more than anything.

“what if this isn’t just a summer fling?” you voice goes soft, breaking at the smallest words, “what if i’ve gone and fallen for the guy who was supposed to be temporary?” when you were with him, you felt so good, so real, something you had never felt before. the sex was incredible, but looking past that, things were different now from before. the situationship you signed up for was different. small talk turned playful in the late nights. suddenly, you were texting each other good night and awaiting at the photos he’d send at work or smiling with yuuji and nobara while hanging out, letting you know he was busy, but couldn’t wait to see you that night.

“are you sure you want to get into something serious with that certified hoe? you can never trust them when they leave for school,” your friend laughs at his joke and you smile small. gojo can be nothing more than an antagonist at times, an echo of the voices screaming at you to end things with megumi. maybe they are right, you think. “but maybe you should just talk to him.”

AUGUST✧˚⋆

ᰔ on day eight of radio silence from you, megumi broke his double texting rule and asked you to hangout. he was driving himself crazy, no longer able to stand the silence without you. he stared at the empty chat, hovering over the unsend button when three bubbles appeared on the screen.

i’m free around 7. i think we should talk

talk?, he thought, what would we be talking about? he panicked, you must’ve met someone else. you were leaving him even though there was nothing to truly leave. ever since megumi has met you, his entire world has turned upside down, unable to find his heartbeat steady around you. at first it was lust, he couldn’t help but crave your touch. but as he tries to ease himself of this foreign feeling, megumi realizes his mistake.

your relationship had thrived off the simplicity of no strings attached, free from lingering feelings and unrequited love. but somewhere along the way, megumi got lost in tangled limbs and soiled sheets. you had woven every fiber of your being into a tight leash around his neck, reeling him back in every time. he wanted you to think he was a changed man. he is a changed man! he smooths his hands down his pants and sent you a short response back. he was determined to see you later that evening ready to convince you the best place for you was in his lap, with him. forever.

you eyed the clock with dread, each tick crawling unbearably slow as you wait for megumi to arrive. when he texted earlier, you felt your stomach drop. after unintentionally ghosting him, you didn’t expect him to text you. it had been over a week since you had left his message unread, hoping he would get the hint and all your blossoming feelings would fade away with the memories of him in the fall.

so in the hour prior to his arrival, you pep talked in the mirror, you made lists of pro and cons, and battled with yourself on how to tell megumi you couldn’t see him anymore. when he got there, you were going to be firm and assertive, and tell him that you simply were not interested anymore! you were going to be honest about you feelings and lay all cards on the table, despite your anxiety saying otherwise. it was the mature thing to do, you told yourself.

when you open the door, megumi is on you, swallowing you whole by taking his head into your hands and locking your lips with his. he pushes you out of the door frame and the entire time you’re welcoming him deeper into your mouth. he kissed you with a thousand words of love and hoped you got the message. you break the kiss, lightly panting against his mouth. his hands were still holding your head close to his own, keeping you close and in arms reach.

“it’s been eight days,” he says low. “where have you been?” you’re surprised. from his initial kiss at the door to this now sudden care and concern. you search his eyes for clues and turned up empty. he was as distant as ever with a hint of fear swirling in his dark eyes, leaving you shrinking into your skin. he walked forward and you stepped back, moving further into the hall. meguimi’s arm reaches to block your passage in the hall, cornering you towards your bedroom. “well? are you gonna answer?” your heart quickens, all of your preplanned speeches disappearing from your mind when he’s looming over you. is he angry?

you’ve reached your bedroom, the door ajar. “i- i didn’t know how to tell you. can we talk please?” you sputter out, nervous now that he’s got you trapped against the door frame. megumi’s brows are knit together and his nostrils flare in irritation, you’ve never seen him angry, much less upset. his eyes looked cloudy and you desperately yearned to reverse time. you’re stepping into the dark room and he follows.

from the moment the door shuts, he’s tearing yours and his clothes off and pushing you onto the bed. he’s more eager than normal, his pants tight from his erection and hands shaking just slightly. he takes ahold of your chin and ushers you into a kiss, shimming out your pants. you slide a hand to his cheek and let his tongue meld with yours. “i don’t want to talk right now,” he says like a secret. he exhales and lets his mouth shift to smear open mouthed kisses against yours and down your neck. you lift your arms up to let him take off your shirt, catching you as you fall back to the bed. he pulls off his own and lowers himself to kiss down your chest.

he suckles on your skin, love bites and bruises swelling in his wake, while his grip is tight on your waist, dragging your hips against his erection and guiding your legs to wrap around his body. he looks up at you with pleading eyes,“ just let me love you. one last time,” he breaths against your tummy, hugging your middle tight. you feel heat bloom in your gut, your walls clenching under his gaze. you look away, shy, and attempt to cover the blush dusting your cheeks. he smacks a wet kiss on your cheek before rolling onto the bed beside you. in that split second, the room spins and your heart beats with the warmth of his body besides you. your heart swells, did he just say love?

the belt clanks as he undos it and pulls his pants down in one movement. he situates you on your knees around his head, blown pupils lost in the other as you look down at him. “are you ready?” he asks. you nod and he hums with acknowledgement. with that, you rise up to all fours and let his arms weave between your legs. he repositions himself to have his face aligned with your cunt and exhales with satisfaction at the sight.

almost as if he’s seeing you for the first time, megumi’s heart pumps desire through his body. you knew exactly how to get him riled up more than anyone else and you’ve barely even touched him. “it’s been so long since i’ve tasted this pussy,” he groans, drinking in the view of you, legs wide and trembling at the strain of the position he has you in. “i missed you.”

his eyes float back to your weeping cunt in front of him. he feels your body tremble with anticipation, his breath fawning over your skin and stare burning into you. he moves his index finger around your hole, inspecting it, pulling your sticky lips apart and licking them clean and you gasp.. you lower yourself down to elbows and let a glob of spit fall onto his cock, stroking him as he pulls your pussy apart by the threads. “fuck, that feels good,” he sputters, thrusting up as you take him into your mouth. you gag on him, tears collecting in your eyes, “did you miss me too?” he teases, his voice low and sets the hairs on your body on edge. the blood is rushing to your head and megumi’s teasing leaves you hot and dizzy. matching sloppy circles with your slurping of his cock, megumi slots his fingers in your hole and focuses on your clit throbbing and pulsating in his mouth.

“mm.. you did. look at this mess,” your moans vibrate around his shaft when he pushes two fingers inside you shallowly. he lets them tease you and focuses on the erect bundles of nerves at the top of your pussy. he peels the hood of your clit back and lets himself suck on you further, lets his head get crushed between your locked legs no longer slack in his grasp. his fingers are deep, further in you than before, dragging sweet pressure along your walls. the pleasure he’s giving you making you grind along his face. he ruthlessly slams his hips up into your open jaw, balls hitting your chin as your spit pools pathetically out of your mouth from the overstimulation of everything. his dick slips out of your mouth while you choke out for air, your throat stretched from his rough thrusts. you rest your head on his thigh and watch his cock bob while he buries his face between your legs.

your resistance wearing thin, your mind spins with each stroke along your walls. “megumi, i’m gonna cum!” he’s coaxing you open, letting your slick drip down his fingers, squelching and filth fills the room. you unfurl in his hands into a wet mess, and megumi eat you like a man starved. you can feel your orgasm hurling towards you when he sucks your clit back into his mouth, letting your mind go numb with pleasure. megumi groans when you spill into his mouth, he watches you cream around his fingers before licking them clean.

cleaning you of your sugar sweet essence, spread thick and shiny on his lips and chin, he throws you forward to face the foot of the bed. you feel his bare chest slide along your back, allowing one hand to trace the curves and dents of your body. he feels up every inch of your exposed skin before laying his palm flat on your shoulder, shoving you flat against the mattress. “tell me you want me,” you can’t breathe and his fingers walk up your arm meeting in the crevices of your knuckles.”tell me you need it, you need me to make you feel this good.” your ass is up, pussy fluttering in response to his airy voice, hot and slow against the shell of your ear.

“ y/n, tell me you need me.”

he rocks his hips against your ass, pushing his cock down to slide between your folds and coat himself. he fucks your wet thighs, groaning selfishly while you vibrate for him. you’re so sensitive and his tip catches your clit with every stroke. you're wrapped up in his scent, his sweat, every sensation and brush of his body on yours more than you can handle. all of his actions are so drawn out and agonizing, his very touch leaving you raw, your senses overloaded. interlocking his hand over yours, he laces his fingers so tight it hurts.

“please, hurry, i-” he slides himself inside of you without warning, pushing past the resistance of your walls and letting your initial pain manifest in tight squeezes instead. “oh my god, it feels so good,” you gasp out, moans cascading from your lips while you adjust to his length he hisses and pulls your ass apart to watch the rest of him get enveloped in your silken pussy. you twitch and reflexively rut back against him, chasing your orgasm, and using him for pleasure. “i need you, megumi. please, don’t tease anymore,” you whine and let your ass bounce back against him once more. he grins wicked and his eyes rolls at the needy cling of your heat around him.

both hands grab at your waist, pinching it tight as he fucks you rough, dragging your body along his shaft without forgiveness. he works his hands in your hair, pulling at the roots to yank you upright, your limp body a whimpering wreck, like putty in his hands. with you against his chest, he angles himself just right to continue thrusting into your sopping pussy. his hand holds your hips down and your back bows when the other forcefully cups over your mouth, muffling your moans. megumi has never been this rough with you, more often than not, gentle and serving, not handling you without a care. your thoughts are screaming his name and your body is on fire under his touch. with every thrust, he finds heaven between your soft thighs.

his hips fumble and are sloppy as he ruts into you, “i’m gonna cum. oh fuck- cum with me.” messy fingers meet your clit as megumi rushes to pull another orgasm out from you. you’re seeing white when megumi spills his cum inside of you, warm and thick, your pussy milking him. panting, the two of you fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs, exasperated and smiling. you whine when he pulls his half hard cock of out you, your pussy sensitive and sore when you feel his cum push out of you with every achy throb.

stillness settles in the room, but the awkward silence is suffocating. after sex, you’d have to pry megumi off of you, his still sweaty body stuck to yours while he peppers you with kisses and adoration. he treated you like the most precious woman in the world and laying beside you is another man. you turned your head to look at him. his stare was focused on the ceiling, unmoving, his body looked tense. your let your hand skate to his side, where you nestled your fingers within his. your fingers are soft and comforting, all of his nerves soothing at the slightest touch.

“is everything alright?” you ask with concern and megumi wants to cry for the first time in a long time. was he ready to lose you already, he asked himself. he mourned the memories you hadn’t created together in the ceiling fan whirs. he can’t speak, all his words on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t seem to muster the strength to tell you about his feelings. you sigh and release his hand, tucking yours together in your lap.

“i wanted to talk to you about us. summer is coming to an end and i’m afraid i can’t keep doing this. i think it’d be best, for the both of us. things can just go back to normal,” his ears are ringing, the blood drumming so loud it’s drowning out your voice. megumi feels like he’s sinking in the ocean, watching your body float above him and leaving him to drown in murky waters. “you’ll go back to college and i’ll stay her. i’m sure you have a bunch of.. people waiting for you,” you force a smile and he sees insecurity crack in it. of course it’s about his (erm) history with women. he feels the shame and pain of every woman he had left broken, making them feel alone. to make matters worse, you’re so calm and collected, he feels like he doesn’t even deserve your kind rejection. he wasn’t ready to lose you. not yet.

“megumi, are you listening to me?” you ask. when his face turns to meet yours devastation written all over it, his eyes look misty like he was on the verge of crying. “megumi! what’s wrong?”

“so that’s it? you’re done with me? i don’t want things to go back to normal. i love you! i love you and- and you’re just afraid! after all everything we’ve been through, our time meant something to me. i thought we had something. not just a summer fling.” his words knock the air from your lungs– love?! of all the things you had prepared for, having your feelings be reciprocated was last on the list. you tingled with joy, the sensation making you high.

“i haven’t been with anyone else. it’s only been you, since we met. i don’t want to be with anyone else” megumi rolls onto his side to stare at you, hoping his words reached you, and that you’d receive them with open arms and change your mind. your hand knots itself in his hair when you kiss him, fast and overly excited. he smiles against your lips and deepens the kiss.

“i love you too.”

- a few months later

“baby, can you believe it’s december 5th already? i’ll be home in two more days.” megumi pulls his scarf up to cover his mouth, cold air puffing from his mouth. he was on his way home from class when he called you, relieved from finishing his last exam day and hearing your voice. his smile is hidden from the camera, but you see it anyways

“i can’t believe the semester is over already. i can’t wait to see you,” you giggle while tying the slipnot of your current crochet project, it’s a hobby you’ve recently picked up, gifting out mittens and hats to all your friends when the temperatures dropped.

“i’m ready to be home with you.” he says. things with megumi have been more than expected. since he’s left for school, you talk daily, receiving the same adorable photos, most of the time of him studying or out on campus. you share pictures of you on the quad with yuuji and voice memos telling him how you miss him. he’s come back twice for long weekends, surprising you after your last friday class, and taking you for lost time. things couldn’t be any better.

the two of you chat all the way to his dorm, making plans for his return, and reminding him not to forget gojo’s birthday gift when he leaves.

“i love you megumi! i’ll see you soon”

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