#[[ hi i still work for 6 hrs ]]

[evilkaeya]

caelus wingman moment

[skunkes]

experiencing a weird thing where im trying to go to sleep earlier (because im tired and sleepy) but i take so long to fall asleep its the exact same thing as just going to bed late...feel so hopeless and i always end up tired either way... im very big on "i can always try again tomorrow" mentality in any way it can be interpreted (interactions with others, mood, the amount of work i do etc) but its so hard to Try Again when you're always too tired to do anything...

[deerpilled]

Just trying to watch an interview and q+a segment with a friend when bob starts flirting with one of the callers out of nowhere.

https://youtu.be/EvHq5UTRldo

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Okay, so, the ask about yandere platonic dick cheating and how the reader would react has me wondering; what would happen if the reader somehow found out that Dick didn't actually change and decided to go no contact, because they couldn't trust him or maybe because they just don't want to be around someone like that? Would that cause Dick to spiral more? What exactly would be the consequences of going no contact? (Like a complete cut off, although it'd be a bit hard to do that since they live in the same house)

(I was a bit disappointed to read that he probably wouldn't change, but it seemed realistic to me because habits are hard to break and everyone in the batfam is messed up. Although, I imagine after years of therapy or something similar there might be some sort of change. But, I doubt anyone in the batfam is getting therapy... except maybe reader)

Sorry yeah, i don't like to think Dick is actually a cheater or this shitty. I just like to humor different scenarios i get requested. But you cannot deny that this man is a messy whore. THIS IS THE FACE OF EVILLL

context

Look, cheaters are so sloppy. Even the ones who put the most effort into it are always bound to slip up. I imagine batsis isn't a fool. Like Richard...no way did you just go from being a serial cheater to suddenly being completely cleansed. You're an addict baby boy.

Like i said at first he's actually wanting to get clean for his baby sis and to be a good role model. I think it'd be very obvious to you that he's actually trying. He's irritable and really struggling to cope with the fact he has to put the phone down. You can see him obsessively checking his phone for what you'd assume to be a message or notification from one of his hookups. You can tell he's torn up about loosing his partners because he came clean about his unethical practices....

There's no hiding. This is such a deep seeded issue and it is really taking a toll on him. This is something like you said will need YEARS of therapy to fix.

So now Dick is trying to bullshit you a few days later...right in front of your salad! He's just sooo happy and he's proud about this new leaf turned????? Yesterday he looked like he was about to breakdown in tears because he'd been abstinent for just 48 hrs...and now he's glowing???

Dick, your patrol ended at 2 am last night...you came home at 6 am...please don't play with me rn.

not me getting heated. lol

He doesn't explicitly tell you he's back to his old ways. He's willing to keep lying his way into keeping you and this habit but it's undeniable. You know that his gf only forgave him because he lied to her too. It makes you sick when you saw the text of him telling her that he's busy with family and then left out for the rest of the day to go be with someone else.

Maybe you explode on him about it? Last time you were as nice as you could be about it but you cannot deal with the games anymore.

I liked to think in this scenario you're yelling at him and he's just still gas-lighting you, He throws every card to make you feel bad for accusing him. It absolute drives you mad. He's just so calm while you're are trying not to strangle him.

"Baby bat, i love you. I think you're just tired and are imagining things. You're convincing yourself that i'm still the old Dick because you're hurting...i understand and I forgive you. Maybe we should set up therapy sessions to help you let go of the past? Hmm?"

"YOU MOTHER FU-"

Ugh but i love him he's so fucked

The irony of him suggesting you therapy when he's the one riddles with mommy issues and the most insane coping mechanisms...

Dick isn't going to allow you to go no contact. You cannot go no contact with someone you live in the same house with. You are bound to interact and when you are dealing with someone like dick...it just won't work. The bat kids are extremely resilient and are well versed in making someone crack. You wouldn't be the exception.

More realistically you'd probably just be cold towards Dick. That's the best you can do. Not really responding to him and basically stone walling...

But i imagine this version of Dick to be much more forceful. He's done with your self righteousness. How dare you suggest moving out. That isn't an option because he needs to see his baby sister everyday. You are breaking up the family over this. You cannot cut him off because he's flawed...it's not that serious y/n. None of the other siblings are breathing down his neck. Maybe if you weren't so frustrating..he could actually become a better person. You are the one that is preventing him from being better with all your pressure!!

You packed your bags and are fully ready to walk out of this family for good because there's just too many wrong doings swept under the rug and here comes dick who is FUMING... He's trying to rip your bags out of your hands and grab you up..

You are not doing this to him. Stop being so-

Maybe your siblings step in and help you to leave. They help Dick calm down because they respect that it's your choice to live how you'd life.

Dick isn't stopping once you're gone. Especially if you're still in Gotham. There's a shadow that follows you where you go. Tons of messages and calls from unknown numbers. Even scarily enough..a blue toy bird left at your door with a small note that read

"Missed me, my little birdie? We'll be seeing each other again soon."

[thedensworld]

My Woman | K.Mg

Pairing: Ceo!Mingyu x Directors!Reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Summary: Everyone in the building hate your leadership and start to think that you were only able to secure the position because of your husband, the CEO.

Been letting this one sitting in my folder for 6 months??? Anyway, enjoy!🧚‍♀️

Since you were appointed as the new director of Tasty Kim, a food label under Kim Group, the atmosphere in the company has been anything but welcoming. The former director, despite being demoted for money laundering from company production costs, was beloved for his friendly and tolerant nature. The staff had grown accustomed to his easy-going management style.

In contrast, you introduced a series of new regulations focused on discipline and time management. Your strict approach to auditing has caused considerable stress among the staff, who are struggling to keep up with your demands.

"I want the file on my desk tomorrow at 10," you demanded, your voice leaving no room for negotiation.

When it wasn't there, your frustration was palpable. "Why isn't it on my desk?" you asked sharply.

"You had 8 hours of work yesterday; what were you doing?" Your tone conveyed the gravity of their oversight.

"This isn't the first time, and I won't tolerate this kind of negligence. I'll be reporting you to the HR team. You can explain yourself to them."

The tension in the office is undeniable, and it's clear that your expectations are clashing with the staff's previous work culture. But to transform Tasty Kim into a more efficient and successful entity, you believe these changes are necessary, even if they are met with resistance initially.

And that's how people started to think you were only able to manage the position because of your husband, Kim Mingyu, the current CEO of Kim Group. Rumors began to circulate, whispering that your authority stemmed more from nepotism than merit. The staff's skepticism grew, casting a shadow over every decision you made. Yet, you remained resolute, determined to prove that your leadership was defined by your capabilities, not your connections.

Your professionalism was proven when you delivered your protest to none other than your own husband, Kim Mingyu, the current CEO of Kim Group. He had ordered every label under Kim Group to push revenue expectations while cutting costs. A heated debate ensued shortly thereafter. You explained to the board that cutting costs for Tasty Kim would only result in a decrease in quality.

No one knew how hard you worked for the company. Everyone just thought you were the queen of the Kim Group, a mere decoration to fill the space, a director without any competence to lead the company.

One day, you opened your email to find hundreds of hate messages, likely sent by disgruntled workers. Sometimes, packages would be delivered to you, containing nasty items that you knew were from your employees. Did you report this to HR? No, you chose to ignore everything, focusing solely on the company's needs.

But there was one person who always treated you like a human in this company. Mr. Song, the security guard, always greeted you with a warm smile, just as he had done for the past 15 years, when you still worked for Mingyu's father as his secretary till now. He might be the only person who truly knew who you were and how hard you worked for this company. Other workers had zero idea that you had been with the company since your twenties.

Mr. Song's small acts of kindness were a beacon of hope in an otherwise hostile environment. His understanding and quiet support reminded you that someone appreciated your dedication. Despite the loneliness and the endless challenges, those brief moments with Mr. Song gave you the strength to persevere.

You're not just Kim Mingyu's wife.

"You're not sleeping?" Mingyu asked, his voice soft as he entered your home office.

You turned your head to him, closing the file on your desk as you watched him approach. "Are they sleeping?" you asked, referring to your 5-year-old twin sons. He nodded.

"Still have work to do? Need help?" Mingyu offered, and you shook your head.

"I'm done. Just checking a few things," you said with a tired smile.

Mingyu sat on the couch near your desk. "Seungcheol hyung said he was visiting," he told you, and you hummed in acknowledgment.

"No, I actually called him to come," you informed him, and Mingyu chuckled.

"Just like I guessed. Is something wrong with the company? The last time I checked, Tasty Kim has been the most stable since you took over."

You rubbed your face, a gesture that concerned Mingyu. "I just need a few pieces of advice. I think I'm a cold woman."

Mingyu didn't deny it outright. "You are," he said carefully.

Your brow raised in surprise. "Really?" A pang of disappointment colored your face, and Mingyu immediately shook his head.

"No, I mean, sometimes you are. But you're a warm lover and mother."

Lover and mother. Those words echoed in your mind.

"Maybe it's been too long since I focused so intensely on the company," you murmured, a hint of doubt creeping into your voice.

"Why?" Mingyu asked, curiosity in his eyes, not fully understanding what you were referring to.

"Let's go to sleep," you told him, standing from your seat and reaching for his hand.

He took it, squeezing gently. "Alright, let's get some rest. We'll figure everything out together."

As you walked out of your home office, you felt a small measure of comfort in his words. Even amid the challenges and doubts, you knew you weren't alone.

*

Mingyu's disbelief turned to anger as he examined the photos of the gruesome package and the disturbing emails that Chan, your secretary, had detailed. His jaw tightened with fury as he realized the extent of the harassment you had endured since taking on the role at Tasty Kim.

"What is this?" Mingyu demanded, his voice laced with frustration as he glanced at Hansol for confirmation.

Hansol nodded grimly, showing him the evidence again. "These were sent to her office. It's been ongoing for months," he explained, his own expression reflecting the seriousness of the situation.

Mingyu's mind raced as he tried to piece together the implications. "Is this related to what you discussed with Seungcheol?" he wondered, his concern for your safety evident in his widened eyes.

He wasted no time in contacting Seungcheol, demanding an explanation. Seungcheol sighed heavily as he recounted the events that had unfolded over the past months.

"It's clear this is coming from Mr. Park's circle," Seungcheol explained wearily. "They've been spreading malicious rumors about her and now escalating to these actions. I've urged her to take action to track them down before it escalates further."

Mingyu's anger simmered as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. "We need to act swiftly," he declared, his voice firm and determined. "I want those responsible identified and dealt with immediately. This ends now."

Mingyu's mind raced back to the day he had to make the tough decision to fire Mr. Park. His audit team had uncovered illegal activities involving company funds, actions that nearly drove the label to bankruptcy. If not for your diligent efforts in handling the crisis at Tasty Kim—your first company role ever—Mingyu knew the outcome could have been devastating.

It had been six challenging months since you formally took the helm, but the results were undeniable. Under your leadership, Tasty Kim's performance had significantly improved. Your dedication and strategic decisions had turned the tide, restoring stability and fostering growth within the company.

As Mingyu reflected on the recent incidents targeting you, his resolve strengthened. He couldn't allow the malicious actions of Mr. Park's associates to undermine all the progress you had achieved.

Mingyu instructed Hansol to work closely with Chan to expedite the search for the culprits behind the malicious acts. His tone was resolute as he outlined the urgency of identifying and addressing the threats targeting you and Tasty Kim.

"We need to move swiftly on this. I want regular updates on the progress."

Hansol nodded in understanding, his expression mirroring Mingyu's seriousness. "Understood, sir. We'll start immediately," he assured, turning to leave the office with purpose.

Mingyu tucked the twins into bed as he always did, Han mentioned something unexpected. "Mom was crying, I saw her crying in her office," Han whispered softly, his eyes wide with concern.

Hoon quickly covered Han's mouth and leaned in close. "Mom said not to tell Dad," he whispered urgently.

Mingyu's heart clenched at the revelation. He hadn't expected to hear this, and the thought of you in tears weighed heavily on his mind. He finished tucking the boys in, trying to keep his expression calm despite the turmoil inside.

After tucking the twins in and assuring them everything was alright, Mingyu quietly made his way. As he entered your room, he found you slumped over your desk, fast asleep amidst scattered reports and documents. Mingyu's heart sank at the sight of your exhaustion, etched deeply in the lines of your face. Gently, he gathered the papers into a neat pile and carefully lifted you into his arms.

You stirred slightly as he carried you to the bedroom, your head resting against his shoulder. Mingyu laid you down on the bed, pulling the blankets over you with tender care. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his heart aching with the desire to protect you from any further distress.

The next morning, Hansol hurriedly informed Mingyu that Chan had located the culprits and had them gathered in the conference room. Mingyu's expression hardened with determination upon hearing the news.

"Keep them there. I'm on my way," Mingyu replied briskly, his voice tinged with controlled anger.

He swiftly made his way to your company, each step echoing his urgency to address the situation. Mingyu entered the conference room where Hansol and Chan stood solemnly by the door, waiting for his arrival. Inside, the culprits sat uncomfortably, their uneasy glances exchanging silent admissions of guilt.

Mingyu entered with a commanding presence, his gaze sweeping over the group with intensity. His jaw was set, a silent testament to his resolve to confront those responsible for causing distress to you and disrupting the company's harmony.

"You've caused significant harm to this company," Mingyu began, his voice steady but stern. "Your actions have not only targeted my wife unfairly but have also undermined the trust and morale of our team at Tasty Kim."

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle in the room. The culprits shifted uncomfortably under Mingyu's piercing gaze, realizing the gravity of their actions and the consequences they now faced.

"I want each of you to explain yourselves," Mingyu continued, his tone unwavering. "Justify why you thought it acceptable to engage in such disgraceful behavior."

One by one, they offered fragmented explanations, some stumbling over their words while others struggled to meet Mingyu's unwavering gaze. He listened intently, his disappointment palpable as their excuses fell short of justification.

"This ends now," Mingyu declared firmly, his voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Effective immediately, you are terminated from Tasty Kim."

The culprits exchanged nervous glances, realizing the severity of their fate. Mingyu turned to Hansol and Chan with a nod, silently instructing them to escort the individuals out of the room and off the premises.

Mingyu turned as he heard the distinctive click of your heels approaching. He straightened, a mixture of surprise and admiration crossing his features as you walked toward him with purpose. You bowed politely, a gesture of respect that momentarily caught him off guard.

"What brings you to this company without notice?" you asked, your tone calm yet curious, as you stood before him with unwavering composure.

Mingyu's gaze softened as he looked at you, struck by your strength and determination even in the face of recent challenges. "I needed to ensure everything was handled," he replied, his voice filled with a mix of concern and gratitude. "And to support you."

You stood before Mingyu, your expression serious yet composed. The click of your heels echoed faintly in the hallway as you spoke, addressing him directly but respectfully.

"I appreciate your swift action in handling the situation," you began, your voice steady. "However, these individuals are my team members. I understand the severity of their actions, but I believe termination may not be the only solution."

Mingyu regarded you thoughtfully, sensing the underlying tension in your words. "They have caused significant harm," he replied, his tone firm yet open to discussion. "Their actions were detrimental to both you and the company."

You nodded, acknowledging the seriousness of the situation. "I agree that their behavior cannot be condoned," you continued, choosing your words carefully. "But I believe there may be alternative measures we can consider—perhaps disciplinary actions or retraining."

Mingyu's frustration was palpable as he listened to your response. He had expected solidarity in his decision, given the severity of the situation. Yet, your stance on considering alternatives to termination seemed to undermine the gravity of the offenses committed against you and the company.

"Your compassion is commendable, but these actions cannot go unpunished," Mingyu stated firmly, his voice tinged with disappointment. "They crossed a line that jeopardized everything we've worked for."

You met his gaze evenly, understanding the weight of his words but steadfast in your belief. "I agree that consequences are necessary," you countered, your tone measured. "But I believe in second chances and rehabilitation, especially when it comes to our team members."

Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "This isn't just about rehabilitation," he argued, his voice slightly raised with emotion. "It's about setting a precedent. We cannot allow such behavior to repeat itself."

You maintained your composure, sensing his frustration but staying firm in your conviction. "I understand your concerns," you replied calmly. "But I believe we can address this while still upholding our values of fairness and redemption."

Silence hung in the air for a moment as Mingyu processed your words. Finally, he nodded reluctantly. "Fine," he conceded, though his expression remained stern. "But I expect strict monitoring and zero tolerance moving forward."

You nodded in agreement, relieved that he had accepted your approach, albeit reluctantly.

After the tense discussion in the hallway, Mingyu expressed his desire to speak with you privately. Without hesitation, you nodded and gestured for him to follow you to your office. The click of your heels echoed softly in the corridor as you led him through the bustling office environment.

Once inside your office, you closed the door behind you, creating a brief moment of privacy amidst the hectic day. Mingyu stood near the window, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression a mix of frustration and concern.

Mingyu's demeanor softened when he stare at your eyes. His shoulders relaxed, and a flicker of relief crossed his face as he turned towards you. Without a word, he closed the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

Surprised but touched by his gesture, you leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence and the reassurance it brought. Mingyu held you close, his touch conveying both support and gratitude for your partnership in navigating the challenges they faced together.

In that moment of shared understanding and solidarity, the tension that had lingered between you dissolved. Mingyu's embrace was a silent affirmation of trust and unity, a reminder that despite any disagreements, you were a team united in purpose.

Mingyu's concern was evident in his expression as he spoke softly, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "Why didn't you tell me about what was happening?" he asked gently, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

You met his gaze evenly, appreciating his genuine concern. "I wanted to handle it," you replied honestly, your voice steady. "I didn't want to burden you with the details, especially when you have so much on your plate already."

Mingyu nodded slowly, understanding your perspective but still feeling a pang of regret. "You're not a burden," he assured you earnestly. "We're partners, and I want to support you through everything."

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of his words and the comfort they offered. "I know," you replied sincerely. "But I thought I could handle it on my own."

Mingyu gently touched your arm, his touch reassuring. "We're stronger together," he reminded you gently. "Next time, please don't hesitate to share."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding and support. "I promise," you replied, a small smile touching your lips. "I won't keep things from you again."

With Mingyu's hand still on your arm, you both shared a moment of quiet understanding and solidarity.

*

A year later, Tasty Kim celebrated its 35th anniversary with grandeur and nostalgia. Mingyu stood proudly on stage, addressing the gathered crowd with a mix of reverence and pride. Behind him hung a large portrait of his late father, the founder of Tasty Kim, symbolizing the legacy that had brought them to this milestone.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mingyu began, his voice carrying a tone of deep respect. "Today marks a significant milestone for Tasty Kim. Thirty-five years ago, my father founded this company with a vision of excellence and innovation in the culinary world."

He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over the audience before settling on you, seated among the distinguished guests. A warm smile graced his lips as he continued, "I stand here today not only as the CEO of Kim Group but also as a son honoring his father's legacy."

Mingyu's voice filled with emotion as he acknowledged your pivotal role in their journey. "I would be remiss not to mention the woman who has been my colleague, my business partner, and the mother of my children," he said, his words carrying a depth of gratitude and admiration. "She has been my rock, guiding Tasty Kim with wisdom and grace."

The audience applauded warmly, recognizing your significant contribution to the company's success. Mingyu continued, his voice unwavering with pride, "Together, we have faced challenges and celebrated triumphs. Today, we honor not just the past but also the future we continue to build together."

As Mingyu concluded his speech, he stepped down from the podium and walked over to where you were seated. With a gentle smile, he took your hand in his, a silent gesture of appreciation and unity that spoke volumes about the partnership and love that had shaped their journey at Tasty Kim.

*

"Mr. Kim, we need to report this to the HR team," you insisted firmly.

Mr. Kim raised his hand to stop you. "No, Ms. Ji," he said calmly. "It's alright."

"I took this as feedback from my workers," he continued, his tone resolute.

Confusion etched on your face, you met his gaze. "What? This is crossing the line, Mr. Kim," you countered.

He shook his head, his expression serious. "They must have had a reason to do this. I'm glad that the people I work with didn't stay silent when something went wrong."

"Find them for me," Mr. Kim instructed firmly, his voice carrying a blend of authority and understanding. "Let me have a talk with whoever did this."

Later, you discovered it was a new security member who had incidentally seen his payments reduced due to new regulations on security members whenever items went missing from their secured areas.

"His name is Mr. Song. He has been here for five months,"

[lightseoul]

cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining lmao (if you look extra closely)

masterlist | part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

“You’re late.”

At the sound of the pro-hero’s all-too-familiar gruff voice, you freeze, ass barely touching the chair you were about to sit on.

From where he sits across from you, Bakugou is now scowling.

Great, you think to yourself. Twenty seconds in and you’ve already triggered the beast.

“Sorry,” you say with the most apologetic smile you can muster. “Something urgent came up.”

At that, his scowl deepens, and his eyes seem to search for something as they flicker over your features. You feel yourself getting warm under the intensity of his gaze.

Three years of working under him and it still flusters you—being studied so blatantly by the #2 Pro-Hero, Bakugou Katsuki.

“What possibly could’ve been more urgent than an important meeting with your fucking boss?”

You internally scoff at his tactlessness, though you manage to seem unfazed on the outside. At the very least, the three years of being the HR head of the Ground Riot agency have taught you how to deal with a certain someone.

Bakugou’s eye twitches so minutely, probably out of annoyance brought by the feigned innocence written all over your face.

You could lie and let the conversation move forward. But you’re feeling a little reckless, still reeling from that damned phone call you had a few minutes ago.

So you tell him the truth.

“I just got dumped over the phone.”

You expected a disinterested harrumph in response, not a choking fit over the ice-cold water he just downed.

You jump on your feet, circling the table to—supposedly—gently pat his back. Before you do so, though, you hesitate, hand awkwardly frozen mid-air, wondering for a second if touching any part of your boss’s body could put you in HR danger.

Once you gathered practically everyone in the restaurant’s attention and Bakugou has stopped coughing, you hesitantly circle back and sit on your chair.

“Are you okay?” you ask, as he wipes his mouth angrily with his napkin.

“‘m fine,” he croaks, not meeting your gaze for a moment before finally looking you in the eye.

He looks like he has something to say, but his words never come. His mouth merely opens and closes ever so slightly, you could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at it.

Why are you staring?

“Great,” you shoot him a smile, grabbing one of the menus and thumbing through the decidedly sticky pages.

A pause.

“...You could’ve canceled, you know.”

At the sound of his uncharacteristically quiet voice, you look up, surprised.

“What?”

He sighs, probably irritated by your confusion. “You could’ve canceled the meeting,” he explains, “I would’ve understood.”

You can’t help but smile at him, the feeling of gratitude blooming in your chest. At the sight of it, he looks away, solemn.

“A commitment is a commitment,” you reply. “We already blocked off the hour to meet with the restaurant owner, and I don’t want to waste your precious time off patrol.”

“...Even though you just got dumped?”

Your heart throbs painfully at the mention of what just happened to you, but you quickly school your expression into a neutral one.

“Especially because I just got dumped.”

He chuckles. “What, you the type to throw yourself into work when life gets extra shitty?”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jab. “Don’t act like you don’t do that yourself, Bakugou-san.”

“I wasn’t,” he defends, smirking as he leans back against his seat. “Was just curious.”

Before you can even register what he just said, a waiter suddenly appears to your right, startling the both of you.

Bakugou then proceeds to order for himself, and as he does so, you study his face despite yourself, heart weirdly thrumming at the implications of what was just said.

“Make sure to have the report ready by 5 PM tomorrow,” he says, breaking the silence as you walk towards where he parked his car. “‘m planning to stop by the office to read it before the night shift starts.”

“Got it.”

Before you know it, you’ve already arrived. Despite yourself, your heart sinks at the thought of going home. Whether it’s because you literally just got dumped unceremoniously or because the surprisingly pleasant meeting is coming to an end, you don’t know.

Bakugou turns to face you, a hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his keys. “You sure you don’t need a ride?”

You nod. “The bus station is just a few blocks away.”

A silence falls upon you.

Again—there’s that serious look on his face as he studies you so intensely, it almost feels like scrutinizing. You’ve always felt vulnerable under Bakugou’s sharp gaze, but today it’s been extra piercing.

Finally accepting that it’s the end of the day and it’s time to go home, you nod again—more cheerfully this time—before you turn to leave.

You’re about a few feet away from him when he calls your name.

“For what it’s worth,” he semi-shouts, “it’s that dumbass’ loss.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt.13

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: we are so back. here is the next part!! we maaaaay or maaay not be close to an end. i am predicting between 18-20 parts total, idk yet so we're going to find out (it could even be less!). once again, thank you all for your patience and still enjoying this series even during my unannounced hiatus due to my ailment. im back and ready to get everyone in their nana feels xo

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8, pt.9, pt.10, pt.11, pt.12,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Tuesday

After an event Monday, full of congratulations and praise, you returned to face the work you’ve accepted to take on. 

Takada scheduled a proper meeting with you and Nanami, as he confessed his misapproach in not including Nanami during the promotion consideration. This would include your future training to become an Office Manager, and all the leadership building you would have to do. It was a bit nerve wracking, having the CEO of the company and your boss sitting you down in a room to discuss your new role, but alas, that is what being an adult is about. 

It was a lot to take in. An influx of emails plagued your inbox, with several including onboarding procedures from HR. A few emails came from Shoko and Geto, offering their support in your transition as well. Many congratulations came from other colleagues, many who you’ve never met before. Your nerves were clear in the shaking of your hands, your fingertips reticent to tap another key of your keyboard. 

You let out a deep breath, attempting to waive the anxiety. You push away the keyboard and sit back in your chair, covering your face with your cold, clammy hands. As you feel your own warm breath press against your face, you are quickly reclaimed back by reality with a tap on the shoulder. 

“Mm?” You look up to see Nanami with a cup in his hand. You point at yourself questionably, receiving a curt nod from the blonde-haired stallion. Your eyes narrowed at the bit of hair that hung at the very center of his hairline while you grabbed the warm, closer to hot, cup. “Thank you very much. Is this coffee?” 

“Hot chocolate,” Nanami hums as he begins to take a seat beside you. This is the first time that he had truly returned to his desk next to yours, as he spent the time in his office during the company’s client hosting. In his other arm housed a stack of documents, with his briefcase hanging from his hand. “I figured it’d be too cold to get your usual iced coffee, and you don’t seem too big of a fan about regular hot coffee.” 

“This is true,” you say simply, not giving him the opportunity of meeting his eyes. You side-eye towards the stack of documents, watching as he begins to compartmentalize the sea of folders. Your thumb flicks at the edge of the lid, smelling the sweet scent of chocolate with melting whipped cream. “Oh– why didn’t you ask me to help you move some of your things, Nanami?” 

“Hm?” He asks. “Can you repeat that?”

“I said, why didn’t you ask me to help you bring all that?” You repeat. “Your office is a bit far from here, Nanami. You could have called me over to assist you.” 

A shameless, small smile crawls at his lips as he continues to file his things away. He wouldn’t know how to describe it, but he was giddy to hear his name, just his name, from your lips. You, on the other hand, could only squint and stare at him curiously before returning to your onboarding documents. Another long sigh leaves your mouth, and you begin to distract yourself by blowing into the little hole of your hot chocolate. 

Nanami looks over at your monitor (Mr. Nosey) and gives you a sympathetic look, “ah, this is the worst part about a promotion. I’m sorry.” 

You look over at him and shake your head, “ah, no no, it’s not a big deal. Honestly, it’s the least stressful thing about this whole process.” 

“Is there something that’s stressing you out?”

“Yeah,” you say, “my promotion.” 

Nanami emits a quiet chuckle, leaving one folder on his desk before closing the drawer on his lower right. You looked at the folder a bit, it looked rather peculiar. It was lumpy in an uneven way, as the top of the folder was the highest point, and the slope lowered towards the bottom. Whatever he has in there is not my business, you repeat to yourself. After all, nothing has changed. You were still upset with him. 

“What’s so scary about it?” Nanami hums curiously. 

“I’ve always been the one managed,” you begin simply, not one moment needed for thought. “And I’m capable under those circumstances. I’ve never managed anyone before in my life, so how can I have any confidence in something I’ve never done before?” 

Nanami turns his chair to you, your eyes quickly need to divert to safety. He was dressed in this navy blue turtleneck, with his usual dark fitted pants. The tight cotton hugged his muscles kindly, you could see the veins of his biceps even. But it was the way those massive thighs were separated, the space between it so grand that your mind might be stuck in the gutter until the end of time. This was a horrible time for such thoughts. You decide to suck it up and look into his hazel eyes. Though still a sight, you felt calm to see his more soft demeanor. 

“Well, let’s take for example what you’ve done since joining this company,” Nanami points out, “you have managed to start at Legal, then transfer into Sales with perfect ease, and now you’re here in Finance. You have quite the talent to be able to go into these departments, doing work right under the Head of each one.” 

“But it is because of everyone's guidance that I’m able to perform the way I do,” you say quietly. “How can I take pride in it if you all are what shaped me into the worker I am?” 

Nanami looks at you with a grin, “you wouldn’t have gotten hired if you weren’t great, Y/N. Especially being hired by Geto. I’m accounted for, but Geto is a stickler for good workers.” 

You giggle at that, “it’s his way or the highway, huh?” 

Nanami turns back to his computer, “you wish it was a highway. It’s his way or none.” 

You felt your body settle a little more. Despite your feelings towards Nanami at the moment, it felt the way it used to. The dynamic felt just the way it did before everything happened. But there was definitely something different there, something new yet nostalgic. You weren’t sure what, but you wanted to keep fighting against his efforts. Your skepticism over his feelings was still quite high, and you didn’t want him to convince you that easily. 

Even if you wanted to give in and have him all to yourself already. 

“Oh, Y/N, I almost forgot,” Nanami begins, his eyes still glued to the screen. “I asked Takada shacho to extend our lunch break to about 2 hours, so I made reservations at that omakase place right outside the office.” 

You jumped. “2 hours?” 

Nanami doesn’t even flinch, “I asked him for extra time so we could discuss the plan regarding your transition as Office Manager. Though, I have no intention to talk about work during our break.” 

You halt for a moment, thinking about his words. “Nanami, you lied?” 

“I… stretched the truth,” Nanami hums innocently, “it looked like you might need a bit of a break, so I figured it was the perfect opportunity to take you out of the office for a little.” 

He’s being sweet. You can’t let him win, but truthfully, he was being too sweet. Why is he being so damn sweet?

“I…” you begin slowly, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. You felt it warm your throat, coating the nerves in your stomach with its sweet heat. “Thank you, Nanami. I appreciate it.” 

“Of course,” Nanami says with a short smile. “Besides, I wanted to properly congratulate you. Having breakfast with the rest of them was nice, but as your boss, I owe you a proper celebratory meal.” 

You quickly wave your hand at him, “no no, Nanami, it’s me who owes you everything. I would have never gotten promoted without your guidance and praise.” 

Nanami pinches the bottom of the folder he left on his desk, and carefully slides it over to you. He then begins to rise from his chair, lifting his arms in the process to stretch. “Could you sort these very quickly? I need to use the bathroom.” And with that, he practically jogs away, disappearing from your sight, and the conversation. 

You look down at the folder and hesitate, unsure at its lumpy state. But, Nanami would never prank you or make you do anything weird, so what was the worry really? You slide it closer to you, and open it up, revealing 3 camellia flowers. The beautiful pink flowers with white ombre tips opened up so delicately, the floral smell sauntering around you. As you lifted them, you could tell they were picked up this morning. They were still wet and cold from the winter weather. 

It was strange. You were upset with him, yes, but you also felt your heart like him just a bit more. A smidge. It wasn’t some grand gesture, but he went out of his way and bought you flowers. And he also went to get you a hot chocolate, because he’s now catching onto the things you like. And he’s taking you out of the office for a little bit of time because he noticed you were stressed out and wanted to help. 

He had always been considerate, yes, but this was taken to another level you never could have imagined. 

The walk over to the restaurant was brief, but brutal. The winds were sharply passing the two of you, bringing your body temperature way down. Although you were no longer sick, you were still a bit sensitive to the cold. You didn’t notice it, but Nanami walked ahead of you not just to lead you, but a futile attempt to shield you from the wind. 

Warmth washed over you from the strong heaters above the entrance of the restaurant. You fix your hair while walking towards the host, whose attention is strictly on Nanami. Which is fair, given the fact that this man was essentially hand-crafted by God himself. 

You follow right behind as the host (with dismay in her face upon noticing you) guides the two of you towards your area of the sushi bar. It was at the end of the bar, which was nice as it was more secluded and away from the other diners. You begin to remove your winter garments, your hair getting tussled in the process. As you fix your hair, Nanami walks over to your chair and pulls it out for you, waiting for you to take your seat. 

Flustered, you look down at your feet, “a-ah, thank you, Nanami.” 

He nods, watching as you go around to take your seat. But, the chairs were particularly high, similar to a high stool, but with a chair back. And, silly you decided to wear a skirt as you bought new heat tech leggings and wanted to take it for a test run. They kept your legs warm, yes, but now you couldn’t get yourself into the seat. 

Nanami notices your struggle and immediately offers out his hand. “Use the spindles to lift you up. You can use me to keep yourself from falling in the process.” 

Shyly, you take his hands and do as he instructed. In moments, you were in the chair, and felt Nanami proceed to push you in. Your cheeks were in heat as you watched Nanami get into his own seat upon undressing his coat and propping it behind him. You quickly distract yourself with the small paper menu placed before you. But your body took your attention once more, as you were getting a little too warm. 

You decide to take off your cardigan, unbuttoning it slowly before removing it. Nanami looks over curiously, “‘m surprised you’re taking that off, considering how cold you usually are.” 

“It’s just really hot in here all of a sudden,” you comment, concealing the secondary fact that he was making you flustered. Underneath the cardigan was a skin-tight, long sleeve shirt. You didn’t think much of it, but when Nanami’s eyes trailed down, he quickly snapped his neck around. “They have the heat on max here, I swear.” 

“Y-yeah,” Nanami says, clearing his throat. “I feel it as well.” He keeps his words curt, but he struggles to let them out. His mind went places it’s never gone before, and he felt embarrassment shoot at his heart. This feeling was foreign, and he wasn’t sure what to do, or how to control it. All he knew was that seeing your dents and curves was a danger to his mind and body. 

It wasn’t that you were reserved or anything. You simply adhered to the dress code expectation. Pencil skirts, professional blouses, and short-heeled shoes. So, it was rare to see you in this nature. And, as Nanami had not worked with you until this year, he has never seen you outside of your work clothes, or noticed you at the holiday parties in the past. 

“Ah, before I forget,” you begin quietly. You place your hands under your thighs, feeling your nerves heighten. “Thank you kindly for the camellias… they’re very beautiful.” 

Nanami looks over at you, hazel eyes boring into your own, “you’re very welcome. I was impressed at how they bloomed in this weather.” 

You nod, “they’re known for being tough, as they can grow and survive in the winter.” 

“I’m not good with words,” Nanami begins quietly, his straight face ironic considering his future words, “but the florist informed me that they are symbolic for adoration. So, I wanted to give you these to express my feelings for you.” 

You suddenly begin to choke, taken aback by Nanami’s abrupt confession. He quickly hails one of the sushi chefs, who quickly runs over with a glass of water. Soothing your throat with the refreshment, you quietly clear your throat a few times until the itch goes away. One of his hands holds you from your elbow, the warm touch of concern making you cough a few more times, just enough for your eyes to water. 

“Are you alright?” Nanami’s voice is painted with a bit of worry. 

You wave your hand at him, “‘m fine, please don’t worry.” 

A moment of silence ensues as you regain yourself. Nanami stares at you, his eyes searching for some sort of approval in your expression. But your face was flush, your eyes darting anywhere else but at Nanami. Concerned, he quickly attempts to take fault, “was it something I said? I apologize if so.” 

You immediately shake your head, still unable to look at him, “n-no, no, it’s not that…! Actually, you’re… much more romantic than I though.” 

Nanami’s cheeks turn rosy, “I… am trying my best to understand my feelings and make up for my… less-than-ideal confession.” 

You finally look over at him, and quickly lament ever being so rude to him. His sincerity was ornate all over his expression, his eyes uncertain but his hands rubbing together anxious, seeking approval, or at the very least, patience. You are Nanami’s first time feeling whatever he is feeling. Although he was a grown man, you had to understand his circumstance (though self-imposed) raised him this way. What was he but a man trying to navigate love for the first time. 

Of course, this still didn’t earn him leniency points. However… 

“Nanami, you are very romantic for someone who's never been romantic,” you hum warmly. “I’m still not completely convinced but… you’re putting up quite the fight for a novice.” 

“I didn’t think so,” Nanami agreed, bringing his hands to his knees to latch onto them. “But I’m not too concerned. I have until the holiday party to convince you, no?” 

“Correct,” you say promptly. 

Nanami then hails for a chef once more, requesting a bottle of sake for the two of you. “Then I suppose I have nothing to worry about.” There he was. The confident Nanami you’ve known for almost a year now. The man who couldn’t be shaken, not even by an earthquake. A businessman at his peak. 

You scoff, your sympathy quickly going out the window, “is that so?” 

Nanami nods, his eyes narrowing down at the small, warm pitcher of sake before him. He passes you your choko, and begins to fill it carefully with the sake. After filling his own, he quickly lifts it, prompting you to lift your own. The two of you down it like a shot, with your spin shivering from the alcohol. 

Nanami lets out a satisfied sigh, “Y/N, I will make you mine by the end of the holiday party.” He looks over at you, his hazel eyes holding a sort of conviction you have never seen before. Loose blonde hairs tickle at his forehead, but his expression was warm yet tantalizing. “Whatever it takes, it will happen. It’s either my way, or my way, no exceptions.” 

You cover your mouth with your hand, unable to even reply snappy at his words. But you quickly regain yourself, reminding yourself of his poor confession, followed by his even worse reasons for it. Grabbing the sake, you pour yourself another cup full and press your fingers down against the rim of it. “And what do you know about making somebody yours?” You whisper, a dash of attitude in the challenging question. 

Nanami shrugs, sliding the cup from your hold before downing the drink himself. You scoff from the audacity, but it was… a little exciting. The way his lips pressed against the cup where yours previously made its mark. It was like an indirect kiss, but you might be getting ahead of yourself. 

The always respectful Nanami was currently a bit disrespectful– dare you say rebellious. Drinking during a lunch break, stealing your sake. The gull. 

“I know nothing, you’re absolutely right,” Nanami admits, his voice hoarse from the sake. “But I do know that you will be my first. So, prepare to give me feedback once I do make you mine.” 

Taglist (OPEN)

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

@gradmacoco @nymphsdomain @whatelsecouldgowrong @myynameisbuckyy @nanamjai

@a-sor @typicalchels @celestialzdiviner @satoru-is-the-way @sannieworshipper

@shibataimu @galagcica @a-cloudy-dreamy-day @aporcelainphantom @monikosman1311

@fashionably-a-hippie

[metyouinthehallway]

𝒞𝒪𝐿𝒟 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒜 ~ 𝒫𝒜��𝒯 𝟤

summary; matt & you have been hooking up for quite sometime now, you decide that now is as good as ever to tell him how you feel. even if he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings.

Pt.1 here

a/n: this is so rushed I have work in like 6 hrs & I neeeed sleep

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

It’s been nearly two days since your last encounter with Matt. He’s made no effort to contact you and vice versa.

You decide to march your ass over to the triplets house. Hesitant to knock on the front door, you inhale the cold air, bracing yourself for metaphorical impact.

It’s so cold in LA that the forecast calls for snow and you swear it’s Matt’s icy words from the other night thats causing it.

Releasing your breath, you knock on their front door, not even a minute later, you’re met with Chris.

“Hey?” He looks confused. Trying to remember if you all had plans today, you didn’t. You needed to talk to Matt, you hadn’t even prepared a speech. You’re winging it apparently!

“Hi, Is Matt home?” You ask, a tight lipped smile forming across your face, your arms hugging around your torso to preserve as much body heat as possible.

“In his room, yeah. Be careful though. Someone’s gotta stick up their ass…” He lets out a dry laugh, opening the door more to let you in.

Thanking Chris, you head up the stairs and down the hall to Matt’s room. Bracing yourself to face his wrath.

Fists balled up, you knock gently. A groan of annoyance can be heard from the other side of the door followed by the shuffling of feet.

“What-” Matt swings open his door, stopping in his tracks when he’s met with your face. His hair is disheveled and his eyes squinted from the bright light of the hallway.

“Gotta second?” You ask him, scared he’ll just slam the door in your face. But he doesn’t, he nods, inviting you in his room. “Actually, I was thinking we could go for a walk.” You suggest, he clearly wasn’t dressed for the occasion. A grey tank top and basketball shorts would not suffice for the bizarre west coast weather.

“Well, gimme a second.” His tone isn’t snappy but it’s not neutral either. Matt disappears into his room, exiting a few minutes later dressed for the cold in a black hoodie and sweatpants.

“Lead the way.” He gestures, following suit behind you, the two of you start for the sidewalk of his neighborhood.

“So someone shoved a stick up your ass?” You joke, trying to lighten the clearly glum mood. “Why don’t ya pull it out, bozo?” You turn your head to look at him, shoving your hands in your hoodie pocket.

“I don’t have a stick up my ass, y/n.” Matt states sternly. “I’m just confused… about whatever it is you’re starting to feel for me.” He explains, this is good. He’s communicating rather than shutting you out.

“I’m not sure how else I can describe it. I just… I like you?” It comes out as more of a hypothesis than a fact. Your head drops, your eyes staring at the cement below your feet as the two of you continue walking, a fresh dusting of snow places itself on California soil. “It’s snowing.” You giggle awkwardly.

“Mhm,” Matt hums, not sure what to say next. He thinks for a moment before speaking again, “Look, it scares me. Okay? I mean, you’re my closest friend, I don’t even wanna think about what Nick and Chris will have to say about this.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Matt grabs your hand, squeezing it gently.

“You don’t even feel the same way Matt.” You scoff ever so subtly, the warmth of his rough hands sending bolts of electricity through your body. “What’s there to be scared of?”

“I handled your confession poorly,” He starts, and you can swear it sounds almost scripted. “You know I don’t know how to process my feelings, y/n.” Matt groans, his hand still holding yours.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said to you,” He admits, dropping your hand, he turns to face you completely, his nose red from the dry air and flurries of snow scatter themselves across his eye lashes. “And I’m sorry. What we do, its… it’s fun f’me. I don’t wanna ruin it. But,” He hesitates, both his hands now gently grip your shoulders.

“Matt, you’re being all weird….” You furrow your brows, his eyes looking directly into the window of your soul as he thinks of how to word his next sentence.

“I don’t wanna keep hooking up with you.” Your expression falters at his words, feeling your heart drop to your ass. “I want you, like more than your body.” His hands roam upward to cup your rosy cheeks, thumbs padding across your skin. You exhale, you need to be careful with your choice of words now.

But, before you can even think about what to say next, his lips are already on yours. It’s beyond different from the passionate ones you shared in the privacy of his room.

His lips move against yours with meaning. As if to do the speaking for him, he pours all of his emotion into his every movement. It’s quite romantic, the way his hands slide down to grip your waist, pulling your body closer to his, the way you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, moving your lips with his. The snow falling from the grey sky above you adding to the romanticism of it all.

He doesn’t care if anyone sees the two of you sharing a precious moment on the sidewalk. He doesn’t care if it’s snowing, he doesn’t give a shit if he’s freezing his ass off right now, he just wants to be in your presence.

You’re the first to pull away. catching your breath, he loosens his grip on your waist, as if he’s scared to break you. His lips part slightly, searching your eyes for any reassurance.

You didn’t intend on kissing him, you actually came over to tell him how much of a dick he was to you the other night. You wanted to turn the other way and leave his sorry ass on the sidewalk. But god, it was near impossible for you to control yourself.

“I want to start over. Forget about all of it. I know it’s not realistic. But, I wanna take you on a real date. Maybe one that doesn’t end in the backseat of my car?” Matt offers, his voice laced with emotion.

“I think that sounds doable.” You can’t help the grin that’s growing on your face. Matt was all you wanted all along. He was all you needed.

[beardysuits]

Bulking Up pt 1

Ian, just the sight of him inspired conflicting emotions ranging from rage, to jealousy, to desire, to lust. Ian was the pretty boy of the office and the boss's favorite. He could literally do no wrong, and yet, I was probably the only one who knew what he was really like. See Ian and I went to college together and even participated in the same internship program. He and I also had to share the same job duties, schedule, and workload. Only Ian decided his time wasn't worth the work and decided it was up to me to do the work for both of us. Obviously initially I told him absolutely no way, but that all changed when he got some dirt on me.

Mr. Galveston was head of the law firm Ian and I worked at and if we were tasked with naming the first three words which came to mind when we though of him, it would be intimidating, big, and daddy. Despite running an entire firm and raising three kids, Mr. Galveston still seemed to have the time to run every morning and lift weights. It helped too that he was graced with the hairline of a 20-year old and the skin I'm sure he had to perform a ritual sacrifice to obtain. As you can imagine, I had spent many late nights fantasizing about him, he was prime spank bank material! Unfortunately those late nights alone were not enough for me and my stupid horny brain.

I may have definitely broken some HR guidelines. One day we had a meeting where Mr. Galveston had praised my latest work and it ended with a "good job son". My cock immediately got hard and I had to adjust myself as discreetly as possible. As soon as the meeting concluded, I had to excuse myself and run to the bathroom to pump one out. What I didn't realize is that Ian had followed me, peaked over the stall door and snapped a photo of me, hand gripping my cock and cumming all over the toilet bowl.

"Say cheese," he said to me. The cheeky bastard. I begged Ian not to tell anybody what I had done and he agreed, for a price. So, that was how I got stuck working later and later hours to get the work done for both of us, while Ian sat on his ass all day flirting with our female colleagues. And the worst part about it? If Ian in some weird twist of character told me to get on my knees and blow him, I would still say yes in a heartbeat. I mean, he was built like a god. 6 pack, veiny arms, pecs like an olympian. He was a fucking model and he knew it. Meanwhile there was me, pudgy, couldn't grow a beard to save my life, and just short enough for him to call me munchkin as he held his hand out for his work. I hated his guts.

It was a typical Tuesday night at the office and I had ordered myself a pizza, which I ate at my desk while wrapping up my work and about to start Ian's. I glanced at the clock. 6 PM. I should have been able to leave an hour ago, but got held up doing some data entry Ian was tasked with at noon. Now I still had a stack of papers for him to get started on. There was a rap of knuckles at front of my desk. I looked up to find Tabitha, the office kook. She was a nice enough woman, but she certainly didn't have too many people speak with her for a reason.

"Marty, what are you doing here so late?" she asked me. I swallowed my latest bite and cleared my throat.

"Just need to finish some things here and I'll be heading out. What about you?" I asked her. She sighed and twirled the medallion she always wore around her neck.

"Catching up from my vacation. Being gone a week lets things pile up. Oh, but what I wouldn't do to return to Europe in a second..." she droned on and on about her trip, which I had heard about three times already. But, she was also one of the few people to be genuinely kind to me, so I let her ramble while I set Ian's work aside.

"Oh and goodness! I almost forgot! How could I?" he said, startling me awake after I had zoned out. She pulled her purse forward and fished around in it before holding her closed hand out to me.

"I found this little beauty while I was out there. There's a small village out in the countryside which is said to be the ancient home of witches. I saw this and just thought of you," she said. She opened up her hand, and in her palm was... a rock.

It was a pretty rock, don't get me wrong. It shone and had shimmers of jade green crackling along it's flat surface. But again, it was a rock.

"Oh wow Tabitha that's... beautiful," I told her. She nodded, took my hand, and placed the rock in my palm.

"It's said to be a wishing stone. You hold it close to your heart, wish your deepest desire to it, and place it under your pillow. It's said those who are truly worth of their wish will have it come true."

I twirled the rock around in my hand before setting it on the desk.

"Thank you Tabitha, that's very sweet of you," I told her. I really was touched she thought so nicely of me.

"Well, make sure you have that wish be a good one. Maybe even get you out of here a little earlier next time," she said with a wink. "I have to go home to the cats though, you find your way out of here soon, okay?"

I waved her off as she went the door. I got back to Ian's paperwork, but found it hard to concentrate. The stone kept catching my attention. It was like it caught the light at every angle and shone its shimmering green gaze back at me. About an hour later, I gave up and left Ian's work half done.

Once I was home, I slumped on the couch and turned on some TV. I couldn't even focus on the most mindless of shows though. Every thought came back to the stone. I fished it out of my pocket and turned it through my fingers. Wish on the stone and it would come true, yeah right....

I could see my reflection in the window next to the couch and sighed. My glasses were askew and somehow I didn't notice. I adjusted them and saw a pudgy little geek, still in his work suit, too tired to even take it off. I pushed at my belly, which for the past few weeks kept pushing harder and hard to get out of this tight button down shirt. Sighing, I looked at the stone. Why not?

I wish... I wish I could have what Ian has.

Of course that's where my mind went. Ian had it all. Looks, charm, and now a little nerd doing all of his work for him. My eyes became incredibly heavy and it was like I got hit with a tranquilizer. No surprise, working late hours had become the norm. My hand slumped behind the couch cushion and not a second later, I slumped off to sleep.

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

The ringing of my phone fluttered my eyes open. I grumbled trying to find it in the depths of the couch cushions. Eventually I found it stuck deep in the back. I held it up and turned off my alarm I had set. 6 am, perfect time to be awake. I tried to open my phone through half closed eyes. It had facial recognition, but the stupid thing couldn't catch on to my face. I retired a few times before it prompted me to put in the passcode. I fumbled with it some before finally getting in, and going over some emails. I stumbled off the couch and shuffled to the bathroom.

I had to find some Tylenol, I had a killer headache. I was just about to reach the bathroom when I felt something catch on my feet and force me down. I crashed to the ground and groaned. Fuck... what the fuck even happened? I turned around and saw my pants around my ankles. Or... wait what? I could see down my legs, which were half the size in girth, but twice the size in length. That's... a trick of the morning grog right?

I turned myself around to sit on the ground and looked my legs up and down. They were hairier than before, and the skin was taut with muscles spreading across the curvature of my calves. Holy shit what the fuck was going on? I panicked standing up, kicking off my pants in the process. Rushing to the bathroom, I threw the lights on and was met with Ian in the reflection!

Holy fuck!

I grabbed at my cheeks and pulled at them, which Ian mirrored perfectly in the reflection. Grabbing at my chest through the now oversized shirt, I patted myself, feeling a rock-hard torso in return. I gripped at the button and ripped it open, sending the buttons flying across the bathroom floor. I was met with Ian's muscles greeting me. Tracing my (Ian's?) fingers over them, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Oh my god, I was Ian! Almost instinctively, my fingers rubbed over his nipples and I could feel the same shiver race down my body.

I looked down and found Ian's cock flopping, not even attempting to be contained my XXL underwear that was at least three sizes too big now. My hand was trembling as I slipped the boxers down and found his veiny cock fly almost wildly.

It had just as many veins as his arms did and was almost as thick as them it felt like. I took my new hands and gripped the shaft, it felt so natural to be holding on to it. Even a couple of strokes in and I found out that Ian was quick to precum. My new cock was instantly lathered up as I slicked it back and forth, each pump making his cock feel even girthier somehow.

I laid one of his hands down on the bathroom counter and looked at myself. Ian was hunched over, stroking his cock and smiling mischievously at me.

"Oh fuck daddy, that feels so good," I said without even thinking. "Ohhhh... FUCK Mr. Galveston, pound my tight hole!" I yelled. I thrusted myself back and forth, fantasizing about my boss bucking my hips as he plowed his thick daddy dick deep into Ian.

"Harder! Faster! That's right sir, breed meeeeee," I begged. I bit my lip and made Ian look back at my pathetically. Oh if I could only get Mr. Galveston to ACTUALLY fuck my new hole, make me his little bitch. I pumped harder and harder, fucking my new hand. I could feel the cum build until eventually climax hit.

I let go of my cock and moaned as loud as I could, feeling Ian's cock spray his delicious cum all over the bathroom. It was like a fire hose was set loose, letting streams spray around the room. Each bit hit harder than the last. Eventually I was left standing in the bathroom, breathing heavily and watching as Ian tried to stand up straight after spraying his essence everywhere.

Once I got control of myself again, I peered into the mirror and saw through the drips of cum, Ian's face elated. I couldn't help but smile at my new face and body, now ready to take on the world. I stuck my tongue out and lapped at the cum which was beginning to run down the mirror's face. It tasted so fucking good, like pure masculinity was captured in a liquid state.

Watching Ian become my little lap dog at my bidding made me horny all over again. This was just me going solo, wait until I use my phone to download Grindr and see what fresh pieces of meat want a slice of Ian! Speaking of my phone, it started to rumble on the counter. I picked it up and my heart sank, it was Ian. I cleared my throat, trying to emulate my old voice before answering.

"Uhh.. he-hello?" I choked out.

"What did you do you son of a bitch?!" Pierced through the other line. I coughed again.

"Ian? What's going on?" I asked.

"Like you don't fucking know! What do you look like right now? Who the fuck are you?!"

I recognized the voice, it was mine! Oh shit, I didn't just become Ian, we swapped!

"Ian, I gotta come clean, I'm you," I told him. What was the point in hiding it?

"What. Did. You. DO!?" He screeched. Damn, was my voice always that high pitched? It was whiny and pathetic.

"First off, I didn't do anything! I just woke up and found myself like this. Secondly, calm down, we'll figure this out. Just... just get dressed and get to the office. We'll figure it out there, we need to act normal," I told him.

"Oh yeah fucking right! What the fuck am I supposed to wear? All I have here are my clothes and your fat fuck of a body sure as shit isn't going to fit in them!"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," I said. "Listen, the sooner you get there, the sooner we figure this out. Better get dressed munchkin." Calling me by my old nickname felt empowering in some way. Before he could retaliate, I hung up the phone on him. Looking at myself back in the mirror and grinned back.

"Yeah, like I'd ever give this up," I said. But, I should probably get dressed and meet up with him. Looks like it's going to be a fun day. Now, let's see if I can find anything tight enough to show off this body.

[gatorpond]

i hate to do this, but i need help again. my brother died in late may & i've been struggling since to eat, sleep, or take care of myself. i have a work backlog & was unable to do my physical therapy so my pain is slowing me even more. if anyone has the ability/feels like donating, my kofi is here. shares are super appreciated.

y'all have helped me so much & i can't thank you enough. i really can't. i don't know how to even put that into words. i don't have much of an irl support system and y'all have literally saved my life during this time. i wish i could function better so i could stop needing help. at this point, i've lost weight, have been too dissociated to function, and have been set back months of work on my physical therapy. my disabilities are back in full force. i struggle to remember to take my meds. i sat in my chair and didn't move for 6 straight hrs yesterday. i've also been spending much of my time helping my mom sort thru medical records/legal paperwork. i don't want to reveal too many details publicly, but his death was. traumatic & potential medical malpractice. i cannot overstate how hard this has all been. i'm not trying to twist ppl's emotions to send me help; i just want to be very clear what my situation is. i'm applying for food assistance again (was rejected last time) but for housing, utilities, insurance, medications, there's no assistance in my state. i have to have funds. all of that to say: i'm sorry to have to keep leaning on y'all so hard. i'm trying to get my feet under me, i swear. but i still can't seem to manage it. this shattered my world. i hate that i need to worry abt finances at all right now. thank y'all for any help. and for those who have been so patient with me wrt comms & owed art: i cannot say thank you enough. y'all have been so understanding. i'm working on your pieces as much as possible, i promise. if you have questions, my dms are open. you can contact me thru email/telegram too.

[cocomanga]

The Sweetest Beat - Set 6 *pt.1

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader,

CW: Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Oral, BDSM, Unprotected Sex, Edging, Drunk Sex, Aggressive Sex, Overstimulation, NPD Abuse/Trauma, Intense Feral Megumi.

READER DISCRETION ADVISED: HEAVY Noncon/Dubcon Please DO NOT proceed if that triggers you. This is the Megumi I want to royally f*ck up my life honey. I couldn't find him in fics so I created him myself. Brace yourself.

Note: please block me if my work is not your cup-o-tea. I do not own any of the character art Reader is encouraged to listen to music mentioned for context :)

Total WC : 12.1K

Wanna take it from the top? Start at Set 1🎶;)

<< The Sweetest Beat - Set 5

The Sweetest Beat - Set 7 >>

TSB - Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Playlist

**Hey reader... Please note, this is a ROUGH draft, meant to be completed and released by his birthday (12.22). I released it as close as I could to the date, but edits are still necessary. I'll add those later, but for now, enjoy! ;)**

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro is the leader of a fresh new rock band. They're currently playing covers and gaining a following at an alarming rate, skyrocketing his career as an indie artist. But when his best friend introduces him to a beautiful someone and sparks fly, he's challenged to navigate her fear of loving freely.

..... Minors: You have no business here. Love you, but please don't ....

▶6TH SET LIST Waterfall (I Adore You) – Yebba (feat. Sweata) Nutshell – Alice in Chains Different Masks for Different Days – FKJ Every Kind of Way – H.E.R. Muni Long – Hrs & Hrs Back to Love – Robert Glasper (feat. SiR & Alex Isley) Pyramid Song – Radiohead Feel Something – Chris Brown Coco Jones – ICU Hunting Bears – Radiohead When We – Tank Love Song – 311 Fade Away – Lucky Daye Blood Money - Vancouver Sleep Clinic Something In The Way – Nirvana Adorn – Miguel My Song – H.E.R

Megumi flinched, his lids lowering into a squint as he processed your words. “E – Excuse me?” his reply came out in a bit of a huff as his eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. His radio played

Waterfall (I adore you) – Yebba

You paused, eyes fluttering a bit before you answered, “Oh, I think you heard me.” You drawled with full confidence. “You…” you whispered, your eyes dropping down toward his legs, then slowly scanned his entire form, up until they reached his and you bit your lip. “… were bad.” You then gently cupped his face between your warm hands with a soft smirk.

Megumi chuckled under his breath, peering down at you in surprise. The beating of his heart, loud in his own ears as his eyes flicked back and forth between yours, taking in the way they burned in desire.

Your head tilted to the side, one eyebrow raised, indicating you challenged his presumption that you couldn’t possibly be serious.

You remained steadfast as you locked eyes, your gaze traveling downward, resting on his lips, the tips of your fingers following behind as they grazed his bottom lip, tracing his chin, then trailing down his neck, gliding down his broad chest, riding the highs and lows of his pectorals until they slid gently across his sensitive nipples, forcing a flinch.

They moved even lower pressing into his solid ab muscles, your fingers curling around his waist, your hands lightly gripping his sides.

Your gaze met his once more, savoring the nice, warm feeling building up in your core as you stared into each other before you turned your attention to the bedside table, reaching for your bag.

You unzipped the pouch, and from inside, retrieved a bit of blue fabric, the sheen reflecting the light as it slowly came into view.

You moved gracefully, laying the pouch back down on the table. “Why don’t you have a seat on the bed for me, hm?” you whispered, motioning toward the mattress behind him with an upward nod.

Megumi’s tangible gaze raked hungrily across your beautiful, curvy silhouette, pausing at your lips before he finally moved, stepping blindly back against the bed, a squint in his eyes as he plopped down, curious what you’re planning. “What’s go–”

“You seem to have forgotten sweetheart.” You interrupted, “I have no problem getting what I need from you.”

Megumi felt his dick twitch behind his pants as you spoke, his body revealing his excitement to see you in this state again. You were right. He recalled that first night, you sneaking feels of him as you squirmed around in the bed while he pretended to sleep. He sat wide-eyed, studying your every move, realizing that whatever you wanted, he'd be sure to give it to you.

You stepped closer to him, with the two pieces of fabric, wrapping one around your neck, allowing it to hang loose down the front of your body.

You held the second piece in your hands, end to end. He parted his knees as you drew closer, his eyes gaping up intently as he cut them toward you and you leaned in, your chest stopping mere centimeters from his face.

“Close your eyes”. You whispered as you looked down at him.

He did as you asked, his knee swaying anxiously back and forth.

You reached up and tied the cloth around his head, covering his eyes, sliding your fingertips down his neck, resting your hands on his shoulders. The tension in the room as palpable as the body heat between you.

He reached his hands up in an attempt to place them somewhere on your body, yet they were met with a quick smack.

“No touching.” You demanded, as you finished securing the knot.

He huffed as he placed his hands back down flat on the bed at his sides, his lips disappearing into his mouth. He could feel his heart racing, heat spreading out to each of his limbs from the heavy beating of his heart.

You stepped back a couple feet away, admiring how unbelievably sexy he looked blindfolded, especially as he was completely unaware of what you would do. As you stood observing him, you relished the tingly feeling that coursed through your body. It was as if you could still feel him, regardless of the literal distance between you, as

Nutshell – Alice in Chains

played on his speaker. The sound of your voice remained soft and low as you asked, “Can you see anything?”

Megumi turned his ear toward you, his face toward the floor. “No.” he replied.

“What’s your favorite color?” you asked.

Megumi paused a few seconds, switching the direction he faced to the opposite side. “I uh...” he huffed “I don’t need one”.

You frowned, curious. “You don’t need a favorite color?”

Megumi cracked a tiny smile, allowing it to fade on his lips as quickly as it formed as both his hands squeezed the bedding on either side of him. He breathed, “I don’t need a safe word.”

Your eyebrows jumped as you grinned, entertained by his arrogance. “You sure about that?” You questioned.

He dropped his head down as if to give it a moment of thought, the stretch of his lips already melting you into a mess.

“Mostly. But I’m … more than happy to risk it.” He replied. His overwhelming desire to receive whatever you had in store for him, overriding any intention to mute any part of it.

“Okay then.” You responded softly, excitement surging through you like electric currents. “Take off your clothes”.

Megumi stood up from the bed, standing still a moment as if to be certain you were paying attention. His cloaked eyes seemed to pierce straight through you as he reached for the hem of his tee. You watched him pull it off, his solid ab muscles coming into view bit by bit as he raised it, then his chest as he lifted it up and over his head.

He tossed the shirt onto the floor, pausing as he faced you. A shiver ran down his spine as he took a moment to savor the atmosphere. He balled each of his hands into fists, quickly releasing them before reaching for the elastic of his pants.

“I’ve always liked this feeling…” he murmured.

You glared a bit at him as you questioned, “What feeling”?

“… the feeling… of you watching me.” He replied as he began to grip his pants, his bottom lip disappearing behind his teeth. You could swear he was looking directly at you.

“You wouldn’t be cheating now, would you?” you asked, a playful tone lacing your voice.

“And deprive myself of this? He mused. “Never. I promise, I can’t see you.”

He slid his thumbs into his waistband, pulling them down, allowing them to pool at his feet before he stepped out. He was wearing dark blue boxer briefs this time, black band.

You hissed softly, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly at the sight of his body, your core clenching, your heart squeezing inside your chest.

“You know, you were amazing up there tonight.” You whispered, your eyes raking over his frame. “You made momma very proud.”

You observed him for a few moments, noticing his hands opening and closing again into fists, observing it as a means for him to release some of his pent up tension.

“Lie back on the bed. With your head at the headboard.”

He did as you asked.

“Hands back against the pillows?” you requested.

He did as you asked.

Different Masks for Different Days – FKJ

played as you walked over to the bed, and stood over him for a moment… “You have a beautiful body, Megumi.” You breathed, as a light blush pressed forward on his cheeks, halfway hidden by the fabric.

He flinched as you touched his skin, your fingertips gliding slowly down his bare chest, tickling as they reached his abdomen. Your hand pressed into the bed as you slowly crawled over him, straddling his belly, your knees on either side of him as your thighs pressed into his sides, flush against his warm skin.

He raised his hands up to touch you. You gripped both of his wrists, pinning them down to the pillows all to easily, as you leaned into his ear, “I said don’t touch.”

Your breath was hot on his skin as you moved closer to the shell of his ear, lowering your voice to barely a whisper. “Be a good boy.” You said, as your breasts pressed into his chest. Your parted lips glided across his jaw, your teeth grazing, then catching a grip on a bit of skin that made it's way behind them.

Megumi’s brow furrowed as he began to squirm underneath you.

You then leaned forward, allowing your clothed breasts to cover his face as you tied his hands together with the remaining fabric, tethering them to the headboard.

He turned towards them, opening his mouth, his tongue pressing forward as he kissed and sucked against your smooth flesh as you pressed them against his cheeks. Once he was securely bound, you slid your hands slowly down each of his arms, noticing his breathing becoming more labored.

“You okay baby?” you asked, sweetly.

“I’m better than okay.” He answered, “but… I need you.”

“Awww… sweetheart.” You said, leaning in, cupping his face, then rubbing your nose against his cheek, nuzzling as you grinded your soft, sensitive sex against his belly, the tip of his dick just behind you, grazing your upper thigh as it sprawled across his hip.

You drew closer, kissing his lobe softly as you whispered, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take good care of you.”

You felt his body shudder under your touch, his lips remaining parted as he huffed harder, pressing his head back into the pillows.

Megumi could feel the tension becoming more difficult to bear, building the excitement within him, as he now wondered just how much more of this he could take. It felt like an eternity to him since he was last in this position with you, and he wanted nothing more than to devour you completely.

You pressed your body a little more firmly into his as your tongue glided up the side of his neck, planting opened mouth kisses, the same as the ones you loved to receive from him, as you continued to grind yourself against him. You watched his face twisting in agonizing pleasure, taking special care to avoid touching his middle.

“Are you excited?” you cooed, your hand massaging the other side of his neck, your thumb tracing the lines in his throat.

“Very.” He huffed, behind heavy breaths.

“What do you need, baby?” you whispered, your fingers from both hands sliding up the back of his neck through his hair, gripping it as you continued to massage, nuzzling and kissing.

Megumi hissed, “I… ~haah~… I need … you to untie me.”

“Oh yeah?” you breathed, “Already huh? And why would I do that?”

He turned his head toward you, “I’ll … make you feel good… I wanna take you… taste you…” he huffed, swallowing hard as he began tugging against the headboard, his biceps contracting, veins pressing forward against the skin of his arm.

“Hmm... that sounds so very nice.” … you drawled. “But … I’m not quite sure you’ve learned your lesson, love.

He huffed, biting his lip again just before you laid another couple kisses on his collar bone.

You glided your lips over to his, pressing them together in a deep, warm kiss. You slipped in your tongue, humming against his mouth as you sucked his lips, teasingly extending the length of the kiss as you continued. His hips began to buck slightly forward as he moaned, the wet muscles inside your mouths dancing together in a warm, soft embrace, the sensation triggering your middle to produce more slick.

Every Kind of Way – H.E.R.

played as the sound of your kisses vibrated throughout your body, the tantalizing taste of his warm mouth, exciting you all the more. Megumi was beautiful. And seeing him like this made your heart race like nothing else ever had. It was a delight teasing him.

“You want me?” you spoke against his lips.

“Haah… yes…” Megumi’s voice came out almost as a whine as his hips pressed upward into nowhere, begging for contact.

You began to slide your body lower, rubbing his chest as you peppered more kisses, your tongue gliding across his pecs, then against his nipples. You sucked each of them gently as he flinched.

His abdominal muscles contracted as you blew against them, his frown deepening as your hands then slid down lower, “Mmmh…” you moaned, feeding off of his pleasure, his body shuddering underneath you as you took in the sound of his moans. You licked your lips as you observed how rock solid his dick appeared as it pressed against the fabric of his boxers.

You hovered your face over his middle, your hands gliding up and down his sides at his hipbone. His huge cock was difficult to avoid as it hung sideways across his hips, thick, stiff and long, and there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

You slid your fingers up his inner thigh, slipping them under the hem of his boxers, exposing more of his skin, so tender in this area, teasing his middle as you lightly scraped his flesh under your nails, your tongue flicking out before kissing each thigh.

“Aaah fuck” Megumi plead, squirming underneath you. “Baby…” He panted, through clenched teeth, “I… haah ~ I’ve been waiting so long.”

You grinned, satisfied with his reactions as you pressed his thighs outward continuing to kiss them, massaging, squeezing and pressing his skin with the pads of your thumbs, inching closer to his throbbing middle.

Megumi’s hips rotated, bucking forward, begging as he frowned, his muscle flexed against his jaw as he clenched his teeth in an attempt to maintain his pride, his entire body betraying his calm. His speaker played

Hrs & Hrs – Muni Long,

 as Megumi begged, “Mmmh ~ more” hissing, barely above a whisper. “Just fucking let me have it…” he complained, pulling against his ties.

“So anxious, baby…” you muttered as you squeezed his thigh harder.

Megumi spoke through his heavy breaths; “I wanna fuck you... deep ... so deep... I wanna … bury myself inside you.”

Your heart twisted in your chest as you positioned yourself between his legs, his words stirring the fire already burning you from your core as you kneeled on the bed.

“You wanna bury… this… inside me?” you whispered, as you slid your fingers up his clothed shaft to the tip, already soaked with precum, as your other hand gently cupped and squeezing his clothed sack, evoking another flinch in his body and a guttural moan from his lips.

You gripped his length, stroking it back and forth, the fabric sliding between your skin and his. “You want … this… deep inside me?”

“Yes… fuck!…” Megumi moaned deeply, pressing his head back against the pillows as he pulled his tether tighter against the headboard, his hip movements now jerking, becoming more prominent.

Your heart fluttered at his neediness, your smile growing wider as you curled your fingers into the band of his boxers, pulling the front of them up toward you as you unveiled his beautiful, thick, throbbing member. He lifted his hips to assist you in removing them, and you casually tossed them to the floor.

As his hard veiny cock bounced freely in front of you, you leaned in, pupils blossoming as you took in the sight, your face mere inches from it as you hissed, sliding your hand up his thigh, then finally curling your fingers around the bottom of his shaft.

Megumi’s groan escaped his throat from even deeper inside him, as your hand gripped his throbbing member. “Aaah…” it’s temperature a stark contrast against your hand, so warm you could feel it pulse against your skin.

“Mmm… Your cock is so fucking gorgeous, Megumi.” You moaned as you stroked it.

Megumi’s breaths hitched as he murmured, “Inside...”

“Aww… sweetie…” you teased. “I just wanna spend a little more time with it okay?” you leaned in, planting slow, open mouthed wet kisses along its length, starting at the base, humming as you moved upward.

You stroked it lovingly a few times as you muttered, “so fucking pretty”. You flicked out your tongue at the base, licking him all the way to the tip, which glistened with precum just before you sucked it clean, the soft inner part of your lips kissing it with a smack before releasing.

“Mmh… and you taste so good …” you whispered as you teased.

Megumi trembled as he groaned, “Ssshit! … Ngh! I won’t last…” the delicious sensations sending tremors through him, intensified by him being unable to see you.

Back to Love – Robert Glasper (feat. SiR & Alex Isley)

set the mood as you giggled and continued, licking him like a lollypop, and sucking eagerly as you reached his angry head. After just a few passes, your tongue flicked over the tip once more, you opened wide and shoved it as deep inside your mouth as it possibly could go, gagging slightly as it reached your throat.

Megumi turned his face, burying it against his arm, his mouth opening into a silent scream, working overtime not to cum, his moans causing your core to clench harder every time.

You coated him with your saliva as you sucked, and sucked, and sucked him off, your hands stroking in tandem with the movements of your head, his warm, veiny shaft gliding smoothly across your tongue. It felt so good to please him like this.

“Fuck! ~ I can’t take it…~” Megumi warned as he bucked his hips a few times, thrusting his thickness into your throat as your hand massaged his shaft. “Shit! … I’m gonna come… I’m gonna … fucking come.”

You hummed against him with pleasure as you sucked harder, your heart skipping beats as you deeply satisfied yourself by satisfying him, your cheeks caving as your lips and tongue glided along his hot length.

The thought of him, the way he makes you feel, his brilliance, his kindness towards you, his scent, his gorgeous face, his dominance, his talent, all stimulating you more as you pleased him, enveloping his sensitive thickness in your soft warm mouth.

You reached your other hand up to rub his chest as you stroked and sucked him… yet pulling it out of your mouth with a pop, catching your breath, “Haah…. Not yet, baby…” you drawled, grinning as your hand slid down his chest.

“Agh! … the fuck!?…” Megumi whimpered, with both frustration and excitement.

You snickered as you crawled up to meet his face, straddling yourself across his hips, careful not to nick him with your heels as his solid length glistened in the dim light and laid straight up against his belly. You sat up, pressing your clothed center on it as he bucked it against your clit, your hands resting across his chest, flinching and moaning as it rubbed roughly through your covered folds.

Pyramid Song – Radiohead

blended into the atmosphere as the both of you moaned together. You rubbed your sex along the length of his hardness, nearly cumming yourself at the feeling, Megumi’s mouth hanging slightly open as he released heavy breaths, thrusting toward you.

“Agh you fucking tease!”  he whined, clenching his teeth.

You leaned into him, giggling as you reached up and placed both hands on his cheeks as you slid them upwards, your fingers hooking underneath his blindfold to remove it.

As you unveiled his eyes and he slowly opened them to meet your hungry gaze, the contact sent pangs to your heart. You slid your tongue, feather-light across his lips, then past them into his mouth for another deep, warm kiss, your tongues dancing excitedly against each other.

Your lips slid across his, slowly sucking his bottom lip, then planting one last peck on his chin as you leaned in, pressed your mouth against his ear to whisper, “Just a little more” as you sucked his lobe into your mouth.

You pulled back, only to see Megumi’s heavily hooded gaze, his pupils blown out dark as he heaved, frowning deeply as he observed you. You pressed your torso up as you straddled him, giving him a perfect view.

“You like what you see?” you moaned, grinding against him as you locked eyes, your hair falling over your face, your lips slightly swollen and deep pink from sucking his cock. You threw your head back, strands of your hair tickling his legs as it swayed, your hardened nipples pressing forward against the thin fabric of your dress as his dick throbbed against your sex, pleading for entry.

Megumi was unable to take his eyes off you, feeling palpitations in his heart for this person, this woman, beautiful inside and out, that he’s allowed to take over his emotions, his body, his life. “Fuck…”

You flinched again shuddering on top of him from his angry cock as it ruffled your folds, the head laid against his abdomen, pointing directly toward Megumi’s face from under the warm covering of your pussy, moans spilling from your lips, as your hands slid up and down his chest.

His body quivered as he approached his limit, oversensitive, his chest rising and falling faster, his desire pushing past the boundary of excited toward feral as he clenched his teeth, hissing.

You leaned forward propping yourself up on your left knee, your left hand next to his shoulder for leverage, as you hovered your middle over his, your right leg, stretched out across the remaining length of the bed, your feet still clad in your heels. You flipped your hair back over your right shoulder, meeting his gaze as you pulled your strappy panties aside, then gripped his heavy cock with your hand, rubbing the tip across your wet folds.

You smirked a bit, teasing, “is this what you want?” you asked, pressing the head ever so slightly into your wet opening.

“No…” Megumi’s brows formed a hard line, eyes screwing shut as he hissed, “noooo no no…” steadily pulling against his bondage as his body shuddered. “C’mon baby, let me out.” he plead again, pressing his face against his bicep.

“No?” you questioned, tilting your head, confused about how that was his answer. “Are you sure about that?” You teased, easing his tip past your slick folds, sinking it slowly inside you, moaning a bit with every inch.

Desperate to take care of this on his own, Megumi fought against his desire to watch, yet couldn’t tear his eyes away as he witnessed his thick length slowly stretch you open, slipping smoothly into your hole, disappearing inside your sweltering heat.

Megumi wailed the loudest he ever had since you’d known him, overwhelmed with pleasure as you rested your body on top of him, your walls wrapping around him as warm as a velvet blanket.

“Haaaah FFUUUUCK!”

Your eyes fluttered shut, rolling into the back of your head as you settled almost completely on top of him, your hands trembling as you moved them to rest on his pale, muscular chest. You doubled over, burying your head in his neck, barely able to contain yourself, air hitching in your throat as it passed your lips. His speaker played

Feel Something – Chris Brown.

Megumi’s heart pounded as hard as a bass drum as he watched your reaction, seeing and feeling you shudder on top of him as his length reached into the innermost secret and deepest parts of you, aching to beat himself even further inside until you could take no more, until he reached the sweetest spot, until you screamed his name.

His member hardened even more as you hovered with him buried in your depths, nearly to the hilt. You moaned loudly as your core squeezed him even harder, your chest heaving. It took everything for you not to cum at that moment. Your eyes opened slowly, meeting his hedonistic gaze.

“Don’t move… let me out.” He begged with suppressed urgency, his expression that of a chained wild animal, desperate to devour his prey.

“No.” you whined, between clenched teeth, leaning into his lips, causing more friction from your quivering core against his aching cock.

Megumi’s frown deepened as your torso inched closer to his, biting his lip, nearly breaking his flesh, trying as hard as he could not to release inside you immediately.

“Go ahead and cum for me.” you whispered, gripping and pressing your hands into each of his biceps on either side of him.

You then pulled your ass upward, and his dick out a bit, then thrusted hard back down on top of him, whimpering from the excruciating pleasure as you threw your head back, “haaaah!”

“Nnngh!” Megumi panted, his head jerking back as you repeated your thrusts, over and over, his dick gliding beautifully and smoothly in and out of your heat, the friction just delicious against your tight gummy walls.

You pressed down on him repeatedly, flicking out your tongue against his neck, your hips working miracles against his stubborn dominance, your slick heat firmly gripping his hot cock, milking him, the head pounding closer to your cervix.

Your hands migrated up toward his neck as you gripped each side, “You like that baby?” you whispered into the shell of his ear, “letting momma … Ngh… u – use you like this?”

You very much preferred being underneath him, but Megumi’s reaction goaded you on, and was so enticing, so irresistible that you couldn’t help yourself.

Your body tremored from your very core, as you moaned out in a sensual whisper, “haaahhh! ~ I’m cumming baby…” as you thrusted even faster.

Megumi yanked against the headboard, pulling and grunting, his eyes rolling back, heavy breaths exiting his mouth at each of your thrusts, a violent tremor suddenly shaking his entire being until he finally came…hard.

You melted on top of him as thick ropes of his hot semen coated your insides, your core releasing arousal all over him. “Ha~aaah! You breathed with satisfaction as you turned your face to the heavens.

His body convulsed as he spilled inside you, his veins pressing forward along his arms, he came so much, that after a few moments his seed found its way out of your hole, flatlining as it dripped down his shaft and you continued to move your hips slowly up and down his oversensitive member.

Megumi kept his head held back as he heaved, having enjoyed every second, allowing his high to wash over him. He then pulled harder against the tether as he trembled. “Please… Haah…~ haah… Please fucking let me out, baby...” He plead quietly.

You giggled cutely, very pleased with yourself as you looked down at him in his weakened state, leaning in to untie his restraints,

The moment his hands were free, he sprang forward, sitting up, his right arm wrapping around your waist, his hand firmly gripping your thigh as his left arm held the back of your head and his lips slammed into yours.

His tongue lashed around your mouth greedily, the warm, soft contact with the inside of yet another part of your body, exciting him. He easily flipped you over onto the bed next to him on your back.

“Such a bad girl”. He quipped, his hand threading through your hair.

You bit your lip as you chuckled, both of you heaving as you took in each other’s features. He leaned in for another kiss, this time much slower, as his hands began to explore your body.

“My turn.” He murmured.

His large hands slid down your side against your matte silk dress, sliding to your breasts, where his fingertips gently grazed over your hardened buds, rotating them slowly, the soft fabric separating your skin from his as it glided across, making you shudder as he became hard all over again between your legs from being close to you.

Coco Jones – ICU

Began to play as he pulled back from his kiss. Your big pretty eyes met Megumi’s, his forehead rested against yours as you lie still, just feeling him. Your gazes exchanged fire as you trembled, your chests heaving, his body warm and firm as he encompassed you.

“Hey there, sweetness… you ready for me?”

Megumi moved his body down, relaxing his face between your breasts. His long fingers reaching around each one, squeezing as he kissed and inhaled your scent. He pressed your soft skin gently against his cheeks, his touch reaching every nerve, making your entire body tingle.

The sound of the wet smacks of his kisses and deep moans vibrated in your ears, his hands and body weight pressed down on you, making you feel protected and desired, the fragrance of soap and incense wafting up from his body, hair tickling your chest as his jet-black strands glided across your flesh, his wide eyes observing every one of your secret places.

His hands slipped under your dress, exposing your pretty skin as he lifted it up and off. Having him restrained revealed the difference feeling his hands on you made. His touch never failed to set every one of your senses on fire.

His mouth locked on to you as his lips pursed softly around your nipples, suddenly pulling hard to suck them in, the juxtaposition of the warm softness of the flesh of his lips and the tinge of pain behind each suck making you shudder to your core.

His darkened blues flicked up as he sucked, making contact with yours, pupils blown out further, glazed over, glaring.

Each time your gazes met, it was as if your heart had been squeezed inside your chest, each beat pulsing a surge of electricity through every limb.

Megumi’s cock was now rock solid as the head rested at your entrance, still coated and leaking from before.

He maintained eye contact and slowly pressed in, watching your face contort in pleasure You lifted your legs up, pressing your calves against his back as he tunneled inch by inch into your velvety soft core without stopping until he bottomed out.

He loved to see you this way, writhing and helpless underneath him as he handled your body, making you hurt so good from taking his cock. It made him fucking crazy. Feeling his member buried deep inside your warmth like this, knowing you absolutely loved for him to fuck you.

His eyes fluttered shut as his lower lip trembled slightly, the both of you moaned upon entry, the glide as smooth as silk.

Neither of you moved, your collective eyes closed as he held that position inside you, Megumi’s face resting in the crook of your neck, his tongue lapping as softly and desperately as a divine dog, his kisses sopping wet, his breath hot on your skin as he pressed the bottom of his shaft against your clit.

You waited for the wave to calm, releasing some of the tension from your lungs through heavy breaths, but your body betrayed you, the sheer force and power behind his hold on you making you cum immediately. You wailed out, gripping the back of his neck with one hand, scratching red marks into his back with the other as your core clenched on to him so tightly, that you forced an even louder moan from him.

Hunting Bears – Radiohead

cooed as your body seethed beneath him. As the fire that Megumi lit inside you seared through your veins, the deepest, most concealed, cold, hardened corners of your heart continued to melt like hot wax, sweat seeping from your collective pores.

He reached down to grip your ass firmly, one cheek in the palm of each hand as he held you, your legs opening obscenely wide for him as he pressed in even deeper, his face still buried in the crook of your neck as he licked and sucked at your throat, all the way up to your ears.

Megumi was molding you, shaping you as an expert artisan, his hands, his rock hard member, making you, sculpting you into a form intricately tailored for his satisfaction alone, the secret cave of your heat, carved out perfectly by and into the shape of his tool.

Likewise, you had carved a space from his heart that only you could refill. Everything about you, from your person, to your beautiful voice, the gleam in your eyes, to the way you received him, gently yet unintentionally massaging his ego and his manhood, you had locked him down into a den of pleasure that he had no desire to leave.

He growled against your skin, thrusting over and over., “Mmgh, everything about you is mine.”

As he opened his eyes, he waited to see yours. You kept your face turned sideways as your eyes screwed shut. He felt so good, your body couldn’t help the response, so much so… that you just … couldn’t…

“Look at me” Megumi insisted.

His reached his hand up to rest on that comfortable place at the base of your neck, his fingers curling around your pulse point, your body trembling uncontrollably as he pulled out a bit, then pressing in slowly, deeply, his forefinger turning your face toward him.

Your hooded, hazy, round eyes rested on his face. His beautiful face.

“Keep looking at me.” He whispered his words between huffs, “Only look at me… ngh… I love to see you cum” he breathed into your ear behind thrusts.

He rested his forehead on yours, his eyes piercing, “Do it again.” He punctuated his sentence with a hard thrust.

He hit you so deep that your entire body convulsed as his tip kissed your cervix. You wailed out, “Aaaagh! Megumi!!” as your body tensed, shaking, hot cum coating his stiff cock all over again, your breaths, vibrating against his hand as he gripped your neck, nearly inflicting pain.

Your pleading face washed red; your mouth gaped open and your eyes rolled back as you took the entirety of his thick length deep inside your hole. His radio played,

When We – Tank.

“I’m the one making you feel this way.” He continued to thrust into you, “It’ll always be me.” Megumi groaned, pulling out slowly, then plunging in again, and again as he kept a firm grip on your ass, skin on skin slapping, echoing off of the wall of his loft as he forced louder moans from your lips.

“That’s it, sweetness… open up that pretty pussy… let me in… I’ll die inside.” his hand gripped your neck tighter, his strong arm locking you in place as he beat his name into the depths of your core.

He lightly pressed his open mouth against yours as he held your throat and you both exchanged air, trembling from the intensity. Megumi hissed directly into your mouth softly, “God, I missed you… Cum. Cum again for me.”

You began to sob underneath him oversensitive and overworked, but dying with pleasure as he commanded you, rutting hard into your heat as he dipped his tongue into your mouth, sucking at your swollen lips, then sliding it slowly down your chin, to your throat, back up your jaw with hot kisses, to your cheek, then back to your lips.

You whimpered softly … “Me~gumi … ha~ah” behind your tears. You gripped his back, sinking you nails into his flesh, as he continued to pound his cock into your sopping wet cunt.

“Mmmm … you remember, don’t you?” he continued, punishing you at a relentless pace, “You remember being on your knees for me?” he whispered into the shell of your ear, “Being a good little slut for me? Lemme hear it..”

It hit you again like a tidal wave “y–yes... s–sir… you murmured, as your pupils pulsed with hearts. I’m … I’m cu–cumming again! … ha~ah!”

Megumi released your neck, gliding his fingers into your hair as you came, fisting it into the top of your head as he fucked you silly.

He was unequivocally yours. And you really were his. Ask him to do anything and he’d do it. Your name was branded onto his heart, and his body melded into yours.

And you, you couldn’t imagine being without him. Where could you go and not desire him? He fulfilled you in a way that no one else could. He was IT for you.

And it was not hard to recognize.

You were head over heels in love with him.

You wanted every bit of him. His quirks, his faults, his issues, his blemishes, his love. All of it.

He supported you, cared for you, regarded you, considered you, and made you feel fucking amazing.

So you let go and allowed yourself to fall. And as afraid as you were, you realized you already had.

Deeply.

Megumi remained inside you, refusing to disconnect as he pressed his face against your cheek and breathed, “I love you.”

*~*~*~*~*

Your eyes parted, a bit of light shining through Megumi’s large window, the curtains pulled open, revealing the dark morning sky. You were slightly disoriented, having awakened in his room. The moment you recalled where you were, a feeling of deep satisfaction washed over you. Happiness. Being with Megumi Fushiguro like this in his home, you felt so … safe.

You took a deep breath as you peered through the mostly dark at his pretty sleeping face. The man that you already know you have decided to give yourself over to. How long has it been since you’ve felt this?

Love Song – 311

played softly on his speaker as you reached your hand over to brush your fingers through his hair, you smiled warmly as you took in his not-so-subtle beauty, the feeling of never wanting to leave this spot, weighing your body down comfortably.

Your fingers slid up and down his muscular arm, and you reluctantly turned away from his face, moving to exit the bed. His hand suddenly wrapped around your waist, stopping you.

“Where are you going?” he asked in a muffled, sleepy voice.

You turned back to him, “To the bathroom, babe.” You whispered, kissing him on the cheek, resting your lips on his face as your fingers curled around his neck.

“Mmmh…” Megumi moaned deeply. “Don’t leave.”

You smiled warmly. “I wouldn’t dare.” You whispered as you turned to look at his clock, noticing it was just past 7am. You got up and grabbed your phone, wandering off to the bathroom.

Megumi watched as you slid it off of the bedside table, unable to sate his curiosity regarding who you’d want to call at this hour. Of course, you had never given him any reason to believe you were interested in anyone else, but surely, just about any man would be interested in you.

But he decided just to relax and enjoy your presence here with him, after you had just given him one of the best and most gratifying nights of his life.

You turned to peek at his beautiful form as he lay under his black blankets, his pale skin and pretty blue eyes peering back toward you in your birthday suit as you stepped into his oversized adidas slides and your robe you brought.

His appearance warmed your heart as you fought the urge to jump back into bed and wrap yourself in his arms.

You disappeared around the frame of the door, across the hall into the bathroom, closing the door to be sure you could have the conversation you wanted without it reaching his ears. You turned on the shower, sat on the toilet and dialed the number.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Maki?”

“Girl… It's SO early!” she huffed, with a little annoyance in her voice.

“I know, I know! I’m so sorry.” You whispered. “I had to take an opportunity since he’s not close by. So, when can we do this?” You asked, cupping your hand over your mouth. “It's so close… I wanna be sure to finish in time.”

“Definitely tonight for sure.” She answered. “The guys agreed to practice what you sent, and they think they’re ready for your first visit. Also, I talked to her, and she says she’s cleared.”

You suddenly started freaking out a little. “Oh my god, I’m so nervous!” you squeaked, “I told him I had to work later. How can we keep him from the studio?” You questioned, turning toward the door in case he barged in.

“Yuji promised to take care of that. And Ino will be here with us. He’s gonna take care of the drums.”

“Yes!!” you giggled, almost too loud, shrinking quickly and covering your mouth again. “Agh! You’re the BEST! Okay! I’ll see you at three, right?”

“Yup. Three sharp! His birthday is in a week.” Maki replied, “Oh, and be prepared. He’s not gonna like that we did this.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Yeah, I figured as much, but you know I don’t care, right? I can’t wait to piss him off a little.” You said, with a wrinkle in your nose.

“Oh my God girl, you’re exactly right for him. Ha-ha!” Maki says, joking but serious.

You suddenly hear a light knock on the door. You turned, slightly startled, per your attempt to be sneaky. “Yeah?” you answered.

“Hey, you want waffles?”

“Yum! Yes! Thank you!” you said to Megumi, then turned back toward the phone to reply to Maki whispering, “Okay I gotta go! I’ll see you later!”

“Okay, don’t accidently spill the tea.” she answers.

“Hehehe… I’ll try not to.” You replied, ending the call.

You hurried and stripped down, hopping into the shower so as not to appear more suspicious than you already did.

*~*~*~*~*

Fade Away – Lucky Daye

now played on his flat screen. So, you have to work later, huh?” Megumi asked, stuffing his mouth with a forkful of waffles that had no syrup.

“Yup” you answered. “Those have gotta be dry.” You teased, frowning.

“Yea, a little. He shrugged. But they’re already sweet. And I have coffee.”

“True. They’re also tasty though. I didn’t realize you were such a good cook.” You said, smiling.

“I had to cook a lot as a kid. I learned pretty early. My mom didn’t spend much time at home with me and my sister before she passed, and my dad wasn’t around … until he was.” His eyebrows jumped before he looked over at you.

You gazed at him thoughtfully, considering that you had actually not had many conversations with him about his parents. Or his sister. “Are you and your sister still close?”

“We are. We don’t talk as much as we’d like to though, since she’s studying abroad and pretty busy. I’d say we chat like, two to three times a week?”

You continued to rake your gaze over him, a warm smile gracing your face as you nodded slowly. You watched him eating, that relaxed, pouty, blank look on his face ironically warming your heart. He was always so adorable, and you couldn’t wait to embarrass him to pieces.

You recalled talking to him a bit about his parents yesterday before the show at “dinner”, and he told you that he got along well with them both. He mentioned that he and Toji had a hard time after their mom passed and disappeared for a while, leaving him alone with his sister. When he finally came back, he worked hard to get closer to Megumi and Tsumiki.

Regardless of it all, Megumi grew up a beautiful person, caring for his sister under difficult circumstances, and still becoming a powerful presence, on his way to being a full-fledged star. Which, you already felt he was. You loved everything about him, whether he was the leader of a rock band or a janitor.

“Do you think I could meet her sometime?” you asked, curious what he thought of it.

“I don’t mind at all. And I think she’d like that.” He squinted ever so slightly toward you as he slowly chewed the last of his waffle, leaning back in his seat. “so… what do you wanna do until you have to go to work?”

“Hmm… I dunno. It's too cold to go out at the moment… I still have quite a while before I have to go. Wanna watch a movie?”

“Yup.” He replied.

“Okay. I’ll get this, you get the movie?” You said as you grabbed the dishes from the table.

“Cool. I’ll get a quick shower while you do that and come right back.” He said.

You watched out of the corner of your eye, stuffing the dishwasher with your plates as he reached for the remote, choosing a romance film.

~*~*~*~*~

You were surprised at how exhausted you were, with all the work you’d been doing, but you gathered that it must be the adrenaline keeping you afloat as you walked quickly toward your office building from the train station.

It had already been 4 days since you saw Megumi last, and today, you had to run in to work to grab a few things before heading to the rehearsal before he showed up with Yuji.

When you texted, you told him you were working, and it was already about 6:25. You were scheduled to be at the studio by 7. You were in quite a hurry, hoping you could grab your drive from your desk and head back. You stepped off of the elevator and turned the corner to walk the aisle to your desk, only to see someone already sitting there.

“Um... May I help you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side as you tried to get a look at the stranger's face as he sat at your computer, typing. You were considerably surprised at how he managed, since it was locked.

The stranger didn’t turn to look at you, his demeanor devoid of any regard for the fact that he was absolutely not supposed to be all up in your personal space. “No, I think I can manage. Thanks.” He replied in a deep voice, quite nonchalantly.

You huffed, “Perhaps you can, but ... what exactly are you doing at my desk?” you asked, rolling your eyes from behind his back. He appeared to be extremely well built, tall, and had tattoos all up and down his semi bulky muscular arms, most of them hidden behind his barely transparent white oxford which he had rolled halfway up his forearms.

“Last time I checked it belonged to the company.” He replied rather rudely, still without even bothering to turn and look at you.

You scoffed, now irritated. “Pardon me, but who are you?”

“I’m Sukuna.” He answered, still seated in the opposite direction as he typed away at your computer. “And who, pray tell, are you?” he asked, squinting toward the screen, as he rummaged through your apps.

“I'm the owner of all the belongings you're currently hovering over and the files you've invaded. I'll need you to please remove yourself from my seat.”

Sukuna turned himself around to face you, finally, frowning, his expression softening, and morphing from irritated to slightly amused after setting eyes on your face, shocked at your audacity as he crossed his arms.

You crossed yours in response, raising your eyebrows, blinking a few times with pursed lips as you waited for him to comply.

He chuckled, locking eyes with you “Well well...” he huffed as he finally stood slowly, towering nearly a foot above you. “Looks like we have a live one in this department.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa...” Geto chimed in, power walking over from around the corner to explain what’s whats going on. He quickly introduced you, “this is Sukuna. You remember we spoke briefly about him coming by to help us out here, right?”

“Mmmm” you replied, your eyes flicking from Geto back to Sukuna, looking him up and down as he smirked back at you. “I wasn't aware my privacy would be in question upon his arrival.”

“Oh, it isn't. I politely offered my services since you're a little ... overwhelmed.” He seemed to love the sound of his own voice as you watched the pretentious look on his face as his words drawled from his mouth.

“Well um ... ‘Sukuna’, is it?” you replied, “that tends to happen when a single person is processing the work of five. But we appreciate your assistance. Were you looking for something in particular among my personal belongings?”

Geto took a deep breath as he noted the obvious tension between the two of you, “My apologies, we needed these documents,” he handed a piece of paper over to you with a list, as your glare continued to cut into Sukuna’s gaze.

“You happened to be the only one who had them downloaded. I apologize for not calling you about it sooner, but we're on a deadline and needed them quickly.” Geto explained.

You gently took the paper from him, taking a quick peek before handing it back to him, moving toward your seat which was directly behind Sukuna. “If you'll ... excuse me?” you requested.

Sukuna motioned, stretching out one of his hands, granting you access to your own desk, the corners of his lips turning down a little in the corners.

You sat for a few moments, taking a deep breath as you felt their eyes on your back, quickly pressed a few keys, then swiveled in your chair back to Geto. “All done, and all sent to your primary. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Uh,” he paused for a moment, his eyes flicking to Sukuna then back to you as he pressed his lips into a hard line. “No, I think that'll be fine for now”.

Sukuna continued to glare your direction, with his large arms crossed, “Except... I'll need you to hang out here for a few hours to answer some questions about that project.”

“Yeah...” you shook your head and shrugged, “I'm afraid that's a commitment I'm unable to keep at the moment since I have prior engagements.” You replied sharply, nodding with a tiny smirk. “also, that's a request generally made by management?”

“Unfortunately, one of the requirements of this position is to be available for overtime at the request of management ... which I currently am.” He retorted, squinting slightly as his lips turned up slyly at you.

Your eyes widened slightly as you turned them toward Geto, hoping to hear reason escape his lips.

“I think we can manage without her just this once, huh Sukuna?” he chuckled in a way that you hardly found funny, patting Sukuna on the shoulder as he maintained his curious gaze at you as you peered up toward Geto.

“I just came by to pick up a few things. See you Monday?”

“We most certainly will.” Sukuna answered, regardless of the fact you weren't talking to him. His eyes followed you until you disappeared around the corner, back to the elevator.

*~*~*~*~*

Blood Money - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

played on the studio speaker as you sat on the couch. "I wanted to kick his smug ass." You said to Nobara as she sat next to you behind Ino's panel.

“Shit, I don't blame you. What the hell is up with Geto these days? He seems to be leaning on you quite a bit for the well-being of that office. Maybe it's time you asked for another raise.”

“Yeah, no kidding. That Sukuna character is gonna be a real headache for sure. Thank God I didn't have to actually stay there today. I told Megumi I was going to work, now I don't have to feel bad for lying to him. You chuckled, I actually did have to ‘work’.” You said, rolling your eyes.

“Well, he's out with Yuji now, they won’t be here until around 9, so I think you're in the clear.”

“Nice.” You replied.

“Hey lady, you're up!” Ino called.

You smiled over at Nobara, and stood, heading over to the sound booth and the live microphone.

“Don't freak out, singer.” Choso teased. “We got you”.

You scrunched your nose up at him and smiled, then spoke into the mic, to help Ino adjust it to your voice. “But it's only been a couple days. You guys have this memorized already?”

“Who you think you're talking to?” Choso quipped, and they all chuckled. “Nah, I’m just kidding, we're good though.” He continued. “We have the track here if we screw anything up, but we've gone over it quite a few times at home separately and together, so don't worry.”

You breathed a sigh of relief cringing a little at his pretend arrogance, but he was right. Your music was hardly anywhere near as complicated as theirs, but you still wanted everything to be perfect. Megumi deserved for you to try your best, though you knew he wouldn't care if you did the whole thing wrong especially in a situation like this. He would love your singing.

“Okay lets do this.” you said as Ino queued you in.

*~*~*~*~*

The rehearsal was a success, a million pounds of weight seemed to be lifted off of your shoulders after it was all done.

You went down the line, hugging each of the band members for working with you so well. You couldn’t believe how fast they got the material, though they are all experts, so it really shouldn’t have surprised you as much.

“Are you guys sure you’re comfortable singing backup for me?” You said to Maki, after hugging her last.

“Not uncomfortable in the slightest.” Choso replied, “I figured you had chops, but damn girl!”

“For real.” Yuta interjected. “I’m gonna love playing for you. With vocals like that? It's an honor.”

“Fire.” Toge chimed, as he nodded.

“Seriously, quit worrying.” Maki reassured. “It was perfect.”

“And it will be perfect, no matter what.” Ino chimed. “Who wrote that anyway?”

“I did.” You answered. “I had it all in my head but couldn’t play all the parts the way I wanted to, so I just roughly attempted them on the guitar.” You shook your head. “You guys brought it to life in a way that I never dreamed I’d hear it. I’m so grateful.” You said, holding your hand up to your mouth as tears came to your eyes.

“Megumi’s just … I want him to love it.” you looked around to them all, “And I couldn’t have asked for a better sound in a million years. Thank you so much you guys.”

“Anytime.” Ino replied. “No, seriously. Any time. You must be planning to finish an album, right? That voice and that music can’t go to waste. I won’t allow it.”

You looked over at Choso as he nodded in agreement with his eyebrows raised, along with the rest of the band, their expressions reflecting that you’d probably better get your shit together while they’re all on the same page about supporting.

“Oh my god, y’all are gonna make me cry.” You said, as you turned to walk quickly out the booth door toward Nobara with a huge smile on your face.

Ino shook his head at you, smiling as he grabbed his things, rushing to leave out the back door early to avoid Megumi seeing him, since he lived out of town, and wanted to surprise him with his visit.

“Girl! That was fucking amazing!! I’m so excited for you!” Nobara said, smiling widely, and extremely excited.

You plopped down on the couch next to her, covering your face with your hands. “Thanks, love. I’m really freaking out right now, but it's gotta be done.”

“Tch… You know he’s gonna kick your ass, right?”

“Hehe, yeah… or kiss it if I’m lucky.” You mumbled as you looked at her out the corner of your eye.

Nobara’s entire face opened up in shock as she laughed. “Ahhh!! Oh my god, listen to you!” She pushed your shoulder off of her as she teased you, and you both giggled.

Just then, your phone rang, interrupting your moment with a call from a number you didn’t recognize.

You finished giggling as you explained, “I think I might have to take this. Gimme a sec.” you held out your finger as you stepped out of the inner studio out to the open area.

Something In The Way – Nirvana

played on the speaker as you answered.

“Hello?”

The caller asked if you were available without bothering to introduce himself, in a deep, stern voice.

“Speaking, how can I help you?”

“This is Sukuna. I’m calling to inquire about the overtime we discussed. Our deadline is fast approaching, and it seems we need all the help we can get on this project.”

You couldn’t believe this man had the audacity to contact you on your private phone, actually demanding work from you on your day off.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I won’t be available until Tuesday morning as scheduled.” You frowned angrily, your tone firming, “Just exactly how did you obtain my personal number?”

“I requested it from Geto. I’m making calls to our subordinates, offering the opportunity to acquire more income as well as –”

“Excuse me,” your eyes pressed shut “did you just say, subordinates?” you scoffed. Geto never spoke to his employees that way. Though you did work “under” him, he was far more likely to use the term “team member”. It was clear that this man was already bringing down the morale in the workplace and now bringing down your individual morale outside of it.

“Yes,” he continued, “we are your superiors are we not? We have a quite a bit to accomplish and will require as many hands as possible.”

“I’m sorry, but… were you not hired for this very reason, Sukuna? As a longtime employee of this company, I’d like to suggest you take this as an ‘opportunity’ not only to legitimize your position there, but to reinforce Geto’s faith in your abilities.”

Your phone began to ring just then from another line. You glanced at it, unable to recognize this number either.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another call coming through. I’ll be happy to speak with Geto at a later date if you’d like to discuss this further. Have a good evening.” you rolled your eyes as you ended the call, answering the next one.

“Hello?” you answered, your tone possibly a little too curt.

“Hello? … this is Tsumiki … I’m calling for –”

“Oh hi!” you introduced yourself, extremely excited. “Tsumiki, I am so glad you called. I’m so happy to hear from you! Thank you so much for being a part of this.”

“Oh of course. It's not a problem in the least! I’m glad someone is doing it because as you probably know, he would never.”

You chuckled a bit. “Not in a million years. I just hope he doesn’t kill me after.”

“You and me both.” she said as you giggled together.

“So, you’ll be able to make it? I mean, it won’t put a strain on you, right?”

“Not at all.” She replied happily, “I’ll be there with bells on. I’m ecstatic to see him. It's been too long. And It’ll be great to meet you, too.”

You hear the door open to the studio from outside the building, watching Yuji and Megumi stumble in, as Yuji teased him about something silly. You turned back toward the phone covering the mic as you spoke.

“Oh my God, same! I’m so excited but he’s here I gotta go!”. You whispered with your hand over the phone as you turned toward the boys, who seemed too distracted to notice you.

“Okay! I’ll shoot you a text when I land.” She said. You hurried to end the call, hoping to escape his view as you rushed back to the inner studio from the foyer where they entered. You plopped down next to your friend on the couch.

Megumi and Yuji arrived at around 9:30, far more than just a bit tipsy as you could tell by their conversation. Moments later, they wandered into the inner studio room.

“Where the hell have you guys been?” Nobara asked as she got up to hug Yuji.

Megumi did a double take as he noticed you in the room, and stared down at you with a tiny frown on his forehead, turning the rest of his body your direction.

“And what are you doing here?” He asked, quietly, holding his liquor almost as well as he holds his drumsticks.

“Hey. I'm just hanging out.” You shrugged. “Don't mind me.”

He stared at you for a beat, his eyes looking you over in that way. “What are you up to?” he asked, suddenly.

“Up to?” your eyes grew small as you looked around, puzzled. “Me?”

Megumi tilted his head “yeah. YOU.” His brow furrowed as he questioned you, “You've been acting weird lately. What's up with you?”

“Ugh...” you chuckled. “Nothing... I’m just hanging out with my friends.”

He stared at you, squinting. “Commere” he leaned in, gripping your hand to pull you up from the couch.

“Whats up Megz?” Yuji asked, as Nobara leaned against him in a hug.

“Nothing. We'll be right back.” Megumi replied as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you toward the door. He was quite wasted, slightly playful, and severely uninhibited, likely triggered by your unexpected presence.

“Megumi... what are you –?” you asked as he pulled you toward his office, pushing your body in front of him as he pressed you into the room with his body from behind, closing and locking the door behind him.

“You're up to something.” He said.

Fucking smartass. 

You thought, as you stumbled around to his glare, standing an inch away from your face.

You scoffed, crossing your arms, your eyelids fluttering as you licked your lips. “You have a problem with me being at your studio Megz?”

“No, I don’t, and you know that. Now tell me what the fuck you're up to.”

You laughed at his misplaced seriousness, your mouth gaping open at him cussing at you, finding it terribly amusing how he appeared a little flustered and suspicious, his cheeks red from his drinks.

“I'm not up to anything! Noby told me you went out with Yuji and would be back here, so I came after work!”

“You're lying” he said with an upward nod, looking down at you. He didn’t raise his voice, but it was clear he was genuinely suspicious.

“I heard you giggling on the phone in the bathroom at my place the other day, and again just now. You didn't spend all night at work because I saw you in town at 630. What the fuck are you tip toeing around for?”

“Megumi! Fucking relax okay? Chill. Everything's cool, I'm just here to hang out with you at the studio.” You kept smiling, completely entertained by his demeanor, yet practically giving yourself away, since it made you appear to be lying all the more.

“Look.” He turned to the side, legitimately irritated, a deep pout forming on his lips before he spoke, “If you’ve got other stuff going on, you can just tell me.”

You paused, staring at him in total confusion. “What? … Megumi… are you serious?”

“I feel like I could be pushing you too hard. But I don’t want you to feel pressured. If you’re interested in some–”

At that, your jaw immediately dropped. “Oh my god…” you squeezed your eyes shut as you shook your head quickly. Stop.” You said. “You’re very tipsy… and you’re letting your imagination run wild.” You walked over to him, cupping his face in your hands. “Regardless of whats happening with me, that’s the absolute last thing on earth that would happen.”

You leaned in, kissing him softly on his lips, lingering. “I love you, too. More than anyone or anything else on this earth.”

You peered into his eyes, a frown forming on your face out of genuine concern that he may actually be crazy enough to believe you’d leave him. “If I could reach into my chest and remove my heart to give it to you, I would.”

“This?” you continued, resting your hand on his chest, and then yours, “Is solid. Okay? Do not worry about that. Ever.”

Megumi nodded as he bit his lip in an attempt to hide that he was upset. Unfortunately you still found it adorable, kissing him several times on the cheek, then hugging him tightly.

“It's late. You have work in the morning, right?” he said as you held each other.

“Yeah, Noby is gonna give me a ride home.”

“Good. Cause you know I can’t right now.”

“No. You can’t.”

*~*~*~*~*

You were so glad you didn’t need to see Sukuna’s face for the next few days at work, since he ended up stuck working the projects he was hired for. You spent the next few days there, then rehearsing at home, making sure your performance would be flawless.

It was finally time to celebrate. You arrived at Nanami’s with Nobara and Tsumiki. You walked toward the building, ecstatic to see exactly what would come of this surprise that you know will likely get you into a ton of trouble.

“Everyone’s here” Nobara said, smiling over at you from the bar. “Nanami let us take over the place for the night, so Megumi’s assuming it's gonna just be another dress rehearsal for their next show.”

“Okay, perfect!” you said, your voice squeaky and excited.

“Yuji says he’s on his way. They should be here any second.” Todo said as he walked over to the three of you at the bar. Everyone was present, including many of the bar’s VIP’s that never miss a single one of their shows, most of them recognizable by Todo, Yuji, and the band.

“I’m so fucking nervous.” You said, as you took a deep breath, turning to look at both Tsumiki and Nobara, each of them sitting on either side of you.

Tsumiki rested a hand on your arm in reassurance. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be great! Nobara told me how good you are. Just trust yourself and everything will be perfect.” She said with a warm smile.

You took a quick breath out, “Yeah… Just relax…” you told yourself.

Nobara squeezed your forearm. “You got this. He’s gonna love it.”

Adorn – Miguel

played on the speaker. You smile at her as suddenly everyone in the building began cheering the moment Megumi walked in with Itadori at his side.

Todo called out from the front of the bar, “Here he is! The birthday boy, and the greatest rocker around, Megumiiiii!”

You watched as air filled his lungs and his eyes widened in shock, then simultaneously roll as he shook his head, dropping his face toward the floor, then cutting his eyes up at Yuji, who grimaced, stepping a foot or so away from him slowly.

“I’m gonna fucking ki –” Megumi stopped mid-sentence as he watched you saunter over toward him, with his sister.

You watched as he caught her in his sight, stunned and wide-eyed. Your heart nearly melted at the look on his face, as it was more than obvious that he was happy to see her.

“Tsumiki…?” he said, almost as if he didn’t really believe she was there, as she reached up, to hug him, a huge smile gracing her pretty face.

Just as he formed his lips to ask “what –?”, shaking his head, he turned his attention toward you, meeting your gaze. The wrinkle in his forehead disappeared as he realized you were the one responsible.

His eyes smiled at you as his lips disappeared into his mouth and he averted his gaze, trying hard to hide the blush on his cheeks. It was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.

Of course, you weren’t as good at hiding yours as he was. Couldn’t help but stare at his pretty face, unable to contain the heat spreading outward from the bottom of your heart.

“She’s an amazing woman, Megumi.” Tsumiki said, smiling over at you as you continued to blush.

“Yeah.” He answered. “Yeah. She is.” He raked his gaze over you, taking in how beautiful you looked.

He wrapped one arm around you to cup the back of your head and kiss you once on the cheek as he leaned into the shell of your ear, “Be prepared to be paid back for this with interest.” He whispered, sending a shudder down your spine.

He turned and slammed the shot Yuji stuffed into his hand seconds earlier, then to Tsumiki as she began to chat with him.

You smiled as you made your way back over to Nobara at the bar, glowing with happiness to see Megumi so pleased. You sat for a moment, watching people make their way over to speak to him, and him, really, really wanting to avoid all the human interaction. It was awfully funny and cute, and you were more than happy to suffer whatever consequences he had in store for you for putting him in this position later.

You peered up toward the stage, as the boys prepared to begin. Choso gave you an upward nod, queuing you to come up.

Megumi hadn’t caught his signal, presuming he would just go up and get ready to play. Yuji grabbed his arm just as he was about to pass your special seat, the one that allowed you to see him so clearly onstage.

You felt like your heart would beat clear out of your chest, but you peeled yourself from your seat, eyeballing Megumi, biting your lip as you made your way over to walk up on stage, Megumi glancing back in total confusion.

“Have a seat.” Nobara said to Megumi, patting your seat, the cushion still warm as he sat, watching in shock as you went up the stage left stairs.

“What… in the hell… is going on?”

“Just relax. Here.” Yuji said as he handed him a bottle of Guinness, Tsumiki smiling warmly at him as she sat next to him, a huge grin across her face, excited.

You made it backstage, standing behind the curtain, trembling. Your eyes closed as you breathed in and out, hoping to regulate your nervous system. You felt a couple of strong hands squeeze your shoulders, you open them up to see Choso, a goofy grin on his face as he reassured you.

“It’ll be perfect. No worries. We’ve all got your back, just sing. You can do it.” You smiled, nodding. He walked across the stage with the rest of the band, as everyone cheered.

Megumi sat watching as Ino made himself comfortable at his kit. “Ino’s here, too?” he said, as he squeezed his temples.

Choso took the mic. “Thank you, guys for coming out! We’re glad to be here celebrating our leader’s birthday! Whoo!!” Everyone cheered as Megumi cringed. “But we have a treat for you all. A special guest will be singing with us tonight, so give her a hand as she comes to the stage.”

Everyone began to cheer as you swallowed thickly, making your way over to the microphone. The nerves shot through your body like electricity, your gaze peered out toward the crowd as the lights shone bright on you. Of all the times you had done this, nothing could have prepared you for this experience. Singing for this man, was the epitome of exhilarating.

“Thank you all for having me.” you said as you turned to Choso and the band. “And thank you, Megumi,” you turned toward him past the audience as he sat in your seat, “for being such an amazing artist, an amazing inspiration, especially for me, and an even more amazing partner. I love you, so very much, and we hope that you’ll love our performance tonight.”

The lights dimmed, and Toge queued you in with a few notes.

My Song – H.E.R.

Began to play, as you sang the song directly to Megumi and everyone quietly listened. You sang this song from the depths of your heart, as every word made you think of him. He has been the light in your life, one of the only people to love you past your flaws, to stick around regardless of how many mistakes you feel you make and is willing to be here for you.

His inspiration had helped you become stronger in everything you’ve tried to do, and you couldn’t imagine being this close to any other man. Everything about him made you happy, and you felt you could be in this place with him, in this space with him, forever.

Maki and Choso helped beautifully with the background vocals, supporting you express yourself perfectly. And Toge, simply could not have played it better. You recalled that first night you spent with Megumi, when Toge’s piano played so beautifully as the two of you drew closer.

Megumi sat almost perfectly still as you sang to him, barely blinking, barely breathing. He carried the same expression he did as he watched you sing at that wedding, the same admiration, adoration and confidence in you as you’ve always seen. It was as if he gave you wings, and you loved him so much for it. You were able to believe freely, to dream freely, to hope, and to love freely with him by your side.

His eyes locked onto yours, and as your gazes met, it was as if you could feel his heart beating just for you. Even from where he sat from far across the room. Megumi was so beautiful that you simply couldn’t imagine your life now without him. He needed to know it. And everyone else needed to know it too.

The last chord rang, and the crowd cheered as his gaze remained fixed on yours. The cheers seemed to last a full minute as all of Megumi’s friends looked to him to witness how happy he appeared to be.

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... to be continued ... 🥰

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<< Set 5 / Set 7>>

Set 7 Preview: Coming Soon... ;)

Taglist: (if you dont want to be tagged, please lmk!!💖)

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Thanks for reading! ✨🥰✨

Notes: As always, I welcome any and all critiques, suggestions, and comments regarding my work, since I truly feel all of those may make me a much better writer! I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read my little stories, and if you'd like to be tagged in releases, don't hesitate to comment below! 😊💖🎶

©cocomanga 2024 | Please do not plagiarize, copy, or distribute my work.

Fanart Art: Courtesy of @pinterest-business / @berserker049 Ombre Caution/DNI & Animated lines: Courtesy of @CafeKitsune

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Why do some of us not *hate* Tamlin?

I am pro-tamlin, not pro feylin. I would prefer Tamlin to never have to deal with the NC ever again. If SJM never types his name out again I will be happy.

Tw: light mentions to DV, SA, and Divorce.

Feyre is written in a way that makes it feel like she is intentionally manipulating us against Tamlin to justify her leaving him the way she did, and to put Rhysand up on a pedestal.

The abrupt and sloppy way SJM handled Tamlins' character assassination induced my fight or flight. Let me explain:

My parents divorced when I was 4, and I had to learn, quickly, how to interpret people's true intentions and empathize with where they are coming from vs just blindly listening to someones account of what happened. My father got custody of us and would use the same elements against my mom that Feyre uses against Tamlin. I HAVE to read between the lines or I would fall to the intentional manipulation.

"She left me so she probably cheated" "he trapped me in the house" "she has a new boyfriend so she doesn't care about you anymore" "he hit me [when I was actively TRYING to get him to hit me to sway public opinion of him]"

Everytime Feyre left for the NC, she did so kicking and screaming. Every indication Tamlin could see was that she did NOT want to go with Rhys, until he gets a letter from her saying to not come looking for her that she doesn't want to be with him. Tamlin didn't know she could read or write. Had that been my love I would assume it was a ransom note too, written by someone else. Had she actually spent 1 hr winnowing to Tamlin, tell him face to face, then winnow back (with an escort) he MIGHT have gotten the hint.

A tithe was a weird thing to use to show how cruel Tamlin is, considering how 2/3 of the night court live in constant fear, children's bones are broken for misbehaving, the CoN are trapped there. SJM really showed us that she has no political knowledge what so ever. I barely started ACOFAS and when Feyres talking about the unnatural sum of her money, my first thought is "You don't amass that level of wealth without oppressing someone." Lucien said that Tamlin would be expected to hunt down those not able to pay the tithe, but when we get to Tamlins actual actions he just said "get it together in 3 days or pay double next time". In my initial reading, I interpreted it as another mask (like how Rhysand acts). Tamlin does this due to tradition, he is expected to act a certain way, but *I felt* he had no intention of acting out what he said. It was just a line he was expected to say to send the wraith away without others expecting the same.

Feyre and Tamlin were not right for eachother because they were not eachothers mates. People can exist fine separately, and be incredibly toxic together. From page 1 we see Feyres inherent inability to empathize with anyone, she has it bad, she has to hunt, therefore her sisters don't do anything. But she also can't cook, so who was preparing the meat she brought home? It gave me "housework isn't real work" vibes. Feyre also doesn't communicate very well, which would explain why a literal mind reader was able to help her better than Tamlin was. I saw Tamlin trying but not being able to help her because he couldn't read her mind.

Feyre didn't want to be trapped in a manor for a few hours while she was displaying manic behavior, but she condoned her sisters be trapped in the HOW for 6 weeks immediately after losing their lives. She condones the treatment of the people in Hewn city and supports the literal Jim Crow laws placed against them in Velaris when all they wanted was to leave. She condones and supports trapping Nesta in HoW after the war just to force Cassain on her so Feyre can play matchmaker.

Feyre is an inherently self centered sociopath. She can read minds and still can't develop a shred of empathy.

Just leave Tamlin alone. Damn.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceres Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Workplace harassment, pregnancy complications, verbal abuse, grief, and loss. Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Redemption Arc, Workplace Dynamics, Gamer Culture, Mystery Identity, Mild Violence, Pregnancy Complications, Emotional Hurt, Disassociation, Depression.

A/N: Before you start reading— 1. Man, after finalizing this chapter, I was the Ben Affleck meme outside, chain-smoking my sanity away. 2. Minors, DNI. It’s not spicy, but seriously, don’t ruin your innocence here. 3. Our reader is tough as nails, but damn, even I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. 4. I’ve sprinkled some links, a playlist, and a meme to lighten the vibe, but customize the vibe however you need. 5. Fair warning: the ending’s gonna hurt. If you’re not in the headspace for that, skip the parts marked with { }. Take care of yourself, okay? Let’s get wrecked together.

Previous Chapter 5 - Something Soft, Something Sharp (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 6 (alt ending 1.2) - Veiled Realities

The gaming convention hall pulsed with energy—screens flashing with gameplay demos from various companies, creative souls showcasing their cosplays, excited chatter bouncing off the high ceilings, and the occasional triumphant shout from someone winning a round. You kept your barely see-through-only for you-hood low, blending seamlessly with the crowd as you moved toward your company’s booth. The email from your employee still sat in your inbox, her words playing on a loop in your mind:

“I wanted to bring to your attention a concerning issue that has been occurring within our team. Certain male employees have been engaging in inappropriate behavior towards their female colleagues, making comments that suggest women do not belong in the gaming industry.

Despite providing multiple rounds of workplace etiquette training, these individuals continue to make such remarks, often doing so after the training sessions have concluded. While we have attempted to address the situation discreetly, the behavior has persisted and is becoming increasingly problematic.

I felt it was important to make you aware of this issue, even if no immediate action is taken, as you are committed to fostering an inclusive and respectful work environment.”

You weren’t about to let it slide.

Your gaze landed on your company’s booth, where a small group had gathered. Two men—mid-forties, loud with unwarranted confidence—were smirking as they leaned toward a younger woman who stood stiffly, her arms crossed.

“Come on,” one of them said, his voice dripping with condescension. “You can’t even finish a round without dying. How are you going to tell us what to do?”

“Yeah,” the other chimed in, his laugh grating. “We're not sexist or anything, but gaming’s just not your thing. Stick to HR or something.”

You gritted your teeth, the instinct to step in bubbling beneath the surface. But you held back, watching as the woman squared her shoulders and prepared to fire back. Before she could, you pulled out your phone. With a few quick taps, an email was swiftly dispatched to the CHRO, with the COO, CSO, CMO, and the event coordinator all included in the loop for informational purposes.

The response from the CHRO came immediately: "We’ll start the off-boarding right away."

Within minutes, the two men’s phones buzzed simultaneously. They frowned, pulling them out, only for their faces to pale.

“What the—”

“Fucking hell!”

They stared at their screens, then at each other, and finally back at the woman they’d been harassing. “It’s you—”

Before they could finish, your voice cut through, calm. “You have five minutes to vacate the premises, or security will escort you if needed.”

The woman blinked at you, her surprise quickly replaced by a smirk as the men stammered and shuffled off grumbling to gather their things. You turned away before she could say anything, your hood still obscuring your face.

Then a loud voice rang out. “No, no, NO! Game broken! Is not me! Me loyal fan!”

Heads turned, including yours, to a really tall man with bright white hair and pale skin standing at the demo station, gesturing wildly at the screen. His coat hung loosely around his shoulders, and he wore dark sunglasses indoors. With his striking appearance, he could easily model for Giorgio Armani.

“Mechanics! Broken! No strong! Me? Strongest!” he declared, his English so fractured and accented that it took you a moment to piece together what he was trying to say.

One of your employees—a nervous-looking junior—stammered, “Uh… sir, maybe you just need more practice?”

The man looked personally offended. “Me beat curse! Me GOAT!” He paused, frowned, and then switched to rapid Japanese, clearly too frustrated to stick with English.

The junior blinked, helplessly lost. “Uh… what?”

The woman who had been dealing with the earlier bullying snorted. “Looks like you’ve got competition, Steve,” she muttered, glaring at her now ex-coworker as they left before turning to the man. “Sir, maybe try again? Second round’s free.”

“Free?” His face lit up like a Christmas town. “Yay! Free! Strongest WIN!”

“Stop embarrassing yourself,” came a calm, deep voice from behind him.

You tilted your neck to see another man—a tall figure, though not quite as towering as his counterpart—impeccably dressed in black. Neatly styled blond hair framed his face. With his striking looks, he would make a perfect brand ambassador for Tom Ford or Bironi; he resembled a male Victoria's Secret model. Beneath his green-tinted glasses, his eyes flicked to the white-haired chaos generator with the resigned air of a pet parent.

The white-haired man turned to glare at him. “No embarrassing! Winning!”

“Winning,” the blond deadpanned, glancing at the screen where the white-haired one’s character had just been obliterated.

He pouted, muttering something in Japanese that sounded suspiciously like an insult, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

The blond man sighed heavily and said something in Japanese. “Sore wa gēmudesu. Kojin-tekina fukushūde wa arimasen.” (“It’s a game. Not a personal vendetta.”)

The white-haired one said something that the blond pointedly ignored. “Sō, fukushūda! Noroi o uchiyabutta. Subete o uchiyabutta, daga kono bakageta... Mekanikku dake wa!” (“Yes, it is vendetta! I beat curses; I beat everything, but this stupid... mechanics!”)

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but find the men’s voices incredibly attractive, even though they were completely different from each other—or was it the fact that they were speaking Japanese? Anyone with half a brain cell knew how undeniably masculine the language sounded.

“Anata to issho ni kurubekide wa nakatta to wakatte imashita.” The blond said, his tone clipped as he hovered by a different station, playing an older game in your company’s lineup—one that hadn’t done well financially but had won multiple awards and had a loyal following. (“I knew I shouldn’t have come with you.”)

You weren’t usually one to ogle men, but damn, the blond one’s biceps looked very chewable. Underneath his overcoat, you could imagine them flexing as he moved his fingers on the keyboard.

You immediately cringed at your own thoughts and made a mental note to stop spending so much time with your unhinged employees.

The white-haired one ignored him. “More round!” he yelled at the junior, who sighed and let him.

The man launched into another round, biting his lower lip in concentration like a child. Was that lip gloss?!

He was really close to perfecting the strike when the in-game AI learned his moves and took him down. He looked like he was about to cry, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how adorable he was.

The blond’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes narrowing slightly in recognition—or perhaps suspicion. “You’re enjoying yourself?” he asked, his English perfect, despite the accent.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

The white-haired one suddenly perked up, finally noticing you. His eyes widened, and he jabbed a finger in your direction. “You! Pretty hoodie lady! Play?”

Caught off guard, you blinked, face still obscured by the hood. “Play what?”

“Game!” He gestured wildly at the screen. “Strongest win! You lose!”

The blond groaned softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Gojo, stop harassing strangers.”

“Me no harass! Me... invite!” The Gojo declared, beaming at you.

Against your better judgment, you stepped closer, curiosity outweighing caution.

The woman from earlier smirked, stepping up to the console. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

“Think you better?” He grinned, clearly convinced he was about to crush you, then pointed at the blond. “Nanamin, see me!”

“Don’t call me that!” The blond spat at him, making you think—was ‘Nanamin’ a derogatory word in their language?

The blond furrowed his brow, his gaze flicking over you. Something about the way you carried yourself seemed… off. Not in a bad way, but something didn’t fit in his mind.

You slid into the seat across from Gojo, the monitors facing the opposite way. “Alright, fine. Let’s see what the ‘strongest’ has got.”

The first round was a blur of offensive movements and insults—Gojo threw out broken English mixed with Japanese, your focus entirely on the screen.

To your dismay, he was… good. Annoyingly good. You’d come up with the idea and then tested this game for over 5,000 hours. You were basically omniscient in it—knew every trick and exploit, but Gojo’s reflexes and instincts were ridiculous.

So you cheated.

Subtly, of course.

A quick input enabled God Mode, giving you just enough of an edge to win the round.

Within minutes, Gojo’s smug grin crumbled as you utterly demolished him in-game, your hands moving with muscle memory.

The blond, who had been watching silently, let out a low chuckle. “Looks like you’ve met your match, Gojo.”

Gojo froze, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the screen. “You cheat!”

You grinned, leaning back. “No, I’m just better,” you said smoothly, your voice calm. Inside, you panicked a little; he couldn’t have possibly known; your screen wasn’t facing him.

“Yes! CHEAT! Me see!” He tapped his temple. “Muttsu no me! Me see!” Then he made a gesture that encompassed the whole planet with his long, troll-like arms. (“Six eyes.”)

You smirked, but before you could respond, the blond interjected. “Gojo, you’re imagining things.”

“Sōzō janai yo! Kanojo wa hontōni zuru o shita nda! Anata mo mitadesho. Eigo de itte!” Gojo gestured wildly at Nanami, who barely glanced at him. (“I’m NOT imagining! She literally just cheated! You saw it too. Say it in English!”)

“You’re hallucinating,” the blond said flatly.

“I am NOT!”

“Yes, you are. You’re tired. No more video games; go sit down over there.” The blond had seen you cheat, but he wasn’t letting the opportunity to embarrass Gojo pass.

Gojo sputtered, clearly betrayed, while you fought to keep a straight face.

“Impossible!” Gojo huffed at you, but there was no malice in his tone, only a kind of begrudging admiration. “You… strong.”

You shrugged, pulling your hood up just enough to smile. “Told you.”

Gojo’s throat made a strangled sound that suspiciously resembled a mewl; he seemed like a nerd. “Me ahh Gojo Satoru. He Nanami Kento.” He pointed at the blond without looking away from you.

Nanami’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, his expression unreadable.

“So, Gojo and Nanami are your names? I believe Japan has a different naming convention, right?” You asked, steering the conversation away to avoid revealing your own name. Surrounded by a crowd, you felt uneasy about receiving random CVs and taking selfies with men whose hands seemed to wander a bit too freely.

Nanami was caught off guard by your knowledge. “You are correct. No, those are our surnames. He doesn’t know much English.”

He continued eyeing you with a poker face. “I don’t suppose you’d tell us your name?”

You scrambled to respond, giving them your gamer tag, which sounded surprisingly like a real name.

Gojo laughed, while Nanami’s gaze remained fixed on you. “Pardon my English, but I meant your real name.” He looked a bit smug as if saying, I-didn’t-stutter.

Damn! They were too perceptive. “Maybe next time,” you said, already rising to your feet, turning on your heel, and slipping into the crowd before they could press further.

You could feel their eyes on you, with Nanami’s gaze lingering the longest, as if he were piecing together a puzzle.

Later, after you walked out of the convention hall and made your way toward the food stalls, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You’d come to check on your team and ended up with a story you’d never forget.

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo was still at the booth, raving about the “mysterious hoodie lady” who was, in his words, “gaming goddess.” Nanami simply shook his head, filing away the memory of your smile for reasons he didn’t fully understand.

Nanami commented, “We never got her name.”

Gojo, beaming, muttered, “Me find her. Strongest reserves rematch.”

Nanami rubbed his temple. “It’s ‘deserves.’”

Gojo waved him off. “Ya ya that!”

//

Hours later, you stepped outside to go home.

The alley was dimly lit, the faint glow of a flickering streetlamp casting long shadows against the brick walls. You tugged your hood tighter, the weight of the day settling heavily on your shoulders as you made your way through. Just as you reached the halfway point, angry voices broke the quiet, followed by the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps closing in.

“You think you can fire us just like that?” One of the men sneered, his face twisted with rage as he stepped into view. His friend loomed beside him, cracking his knuckles with an air of smugness.

You stopped, turning slowly to face them. Your pulse quickened, but you kept your tone cold. “I don’t think,” you replied, as you shifted into a defensive stance. “I know.”

The first man lunged, and you dodged, pivoting on your heel to avoid his clumsy attack. Your brain kicked into overdrive, calculating angles and weaknesses as you landed a solid kick to his shin, your heels digging in. He stumbled, cursing, but his friend was already charging at you.

You ducked, your fists up, but you weren’t trained for this. They were bigger, stronger, and clearly fueled by rage. Damn it, you thought bitterly, wishing you’d waited for Megumi—or at least brought your security detail in regular clothes.

“HEY!”

The voice boomed down the alley, startling everyone. You froze mid-dodge, turning toward the source of the voice.

Gojo stood at the entrance, his white hair glowing faintly under the streetlamp. His grin feral, hands shoved casually into his pockets. “What this? Fight? Without me?” His English was awful, the words garbled but unmistakably confident.

Behind him, Nanami appeared with the air of someone ready to ruin someone’s day. His eyes locked on the men, his expression grim. “Let’s divide and conquer.”

What followed was a masterclass in contrasts, a scene you’d replay in your mind for days.

Gojo’s opponent barely had time to process the incoming whirlwind before Gojo sidestepped his first punch with an exaggerated lean, one hand cupping his chin as if bored. “Loser shit,” he said.

The man swung again, and Gojo ducked low, popping up behind him like a magician revealing his latest trick. “Try harder! Or you go home?” His English faltered, and he switched to Japanese mid-sentence, gesturing at the alley’s exit.

Frustrated, the man lunged, but Gojo pivoted effortlessly, his movements mocking. “Ah-ah!” he teased, flicking the man’s forehead with enough force to send him faltering back. He could have actually flicked him through the wall, but he was trying to impress you, not terrify you. Then, with a theatrical spin, he delivered a sharp kick to the back of the man’s knees, sending him crashing to the ground.

“Strongest wins!” Gojo declared triumphantly as the man groaned in pain.

Meanwhile, Nanami was a study in calm brutality. His opponent came at him swinging, fists wild and uncoordinated. Nanami stepped to the side, his movements smooth, allowing the man’s momentum to carry him forward.

The attacker stumbled, and Nanami seized the opportunity. A precise jab to the spine sent the man gasping, doubling over in pain. Without missing a beat, Nanami delivered a swift knee to the stomach, his face utterly impassive as his opponent crumpled to the ground.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, adjusting his collar with indifference.

Within moments, both men were on the ground, groaning and defeated as the security—who’d arrived mid-fight—dragged them away.

Gojo glanced over at Nanami. “Why so serious, Nanamin?!”

Nanami shot him a flat look. That was the only phrase Gojo knew properly.

Gojo turned to you, his grin impossibly wide. “Hoodie lady! You okay?”

You adjusted your hood, making sure your face stayed hidden, though a faint smile tugged at your lips. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Nanami stepped closer, his gaze lingering on you with quiet intensity. “You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, his tone edged with concern.

“I can handle myself,” you replied, though your voice softened.

“Clearly,” Nanami said, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see a notification from your ride. “Well, thanks again for saving me.”

You turned to leave, but Gojo moved faster than you could anticipate, stepping into your space with a speed that made your heart skip. He leaned in, his face far too close as he tilted his head, his eyes still obscured by the ridiculous sunglasses. “Name,” he demanded, his tone expectant.

“Gojo,” Nanami barked, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking him back. “Control yourself.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, still obscured by your barely see-through hood.

Well, they did save you, and no one was around right now, but they could be stalkers. So you only told them your nickname, essentially half your first name.

Gojo repeated it, his accent thick as he rolled the syllables around in his mouth like a taste he wanted to savor. Nanami echoed it under his breath, committing it to memory with far more subtlety. You had never loved your name more.

Gojo clapped his hands together, his grin as bright as the streetlamp above. “Okaaay, now us food! You come us!”

You blinked at him, bewildered.

Nanami immediately choked, “My apologies, my colleague means, would you like to join us for dinner?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Maybe next time. My grumpy ride is here.”

Before they could argue, you slipped past them as the soft hum of a sleek black Maserati cut through the alley’s quiet. The car glided to a stop, the sharp lines of its body catching the faint light from the streetlamp. The door opened smoothly, revealing a young Japanese man with sea urchin spiky black hair and a scowl sharp enough to rival Nanami’s deadliest glare.

He stepped out, his tailored suit pristine despite the late hour. His deep blue eyes swept over the scene, narrowing slightly as they landed on Gojo and Nanami. There was no mistaking the barely contained irritation in his expression as he glared daggers at the two men.

You smiled faintly as you approached and side-hugged him; his gaze softened, though the crease in his brow remained.

“You’re late,” he muttered, holding the door open for you. His English and accent perfectly matched yours, so Gojo deduced he definitely hadn’t lived in Japan much.

“You’re crabby,” you replied, sliding into the passenger seat.

“I wouldn’t be if you didn’t insist on wandering into alleys like this,” he said, his tone exasperated but tinged with familiarity. He cast one last glance at Gojo and Nanami, his lips curling slightly in what could only be described as a warning.

“Wait... you sent the security?” You asked, tone surprised.

“Yes.” He clipped, tone not revealing much. You’d later learn that the men who’d tried to hit you disappeared under mysterious circumstances after tonight. When you asked Megumi, he’d just glare at you and mutter about not having time to look into freeloaders.

Gojo tilted his head, his six eyes narrowing as he watched the interaction with growing curiosity. Nanami too had his gaze locked on the Maserati as the young man slipped back into the driver’s seat. The way his hand lingered on the steering wheel, his face scanning you for injuries. His head tilted slightly toward you as you spoke, suggesting something closer than casual acquaintance.

Nanami thought of looking you or the young man up on LinkedIn only to realize he never actually saw your face or knew the man’s name.

As the car pulled away, the faint glow of the interior lights illuminated your face behind the dark-tinted windows for just a moment. Gojo’s grin widened as he caught a glimpse of your smile, and Nanami’s eyes narrowed as he committed the fleeting image to memory for some reason he still didn’t understand.

Gojo’s eyes remained fixed on you as the guy driving whisked you away, scolding you for not waiting for him.

Nanami was also watching your retreating car in the distance. His thoughts lingered on the brief glimpse of your smile—the only part of you they’d truly seen. “Boyfriend?” He asked.

Gojo smirked, “You are awfully curious today, Nanamin.” Switching back to Japanese.

“Just answer the question.”

“I’m actually not sure. But the boy is a Zen'in; interestingly enough, the one’s father I killed before Suguru ran away.”

Gojo’s smile widened as you removed the hood from your face a few meters away. He had never been more grateful for his six eyes.

Good. He had a face now.

He clapped Nanami on the back. “Hoodie lady is full of surprises.”

Nanami’s expression remained unreadable. “You don’t even know her full name.”

Gojo’s grin only widened. “I’ll find her.”

Little did you know you had just met your future husbands.

//

After ensuring a safe distance between you and the men he’d encountered, your best friend turned to you, his expression serious. “Stay away from those two; they are sorcerers.”

"But aren't you?"

He immediately cut you off, "I only share the bloodline nothing else. You know what sorcerers did to my father. Besides, I think it was one of them."

You understood the weight of Megumi’s words, but you also knew why his father had been killed. It wasn’t because sorcerers were inherently dangerous, but because he had been too much of a thrill-seeker. “You do realize I’m not your child, right? I’m older than you.”

“Well, that’s too damn bad, Grandma.”

“Heyy!”

He chuckled to himself, but the laughter quickly faded as he asked, “What did they want with you anyway?” He was trying hard not to let you know he was probing.

“Nothing. They just wanted to know my name, and I kept dodging it with pseudonyms. Then they asked me to dinner, and I told them next time. But you don’t have to worry about it. I don’t think I’d ever see them again.” You said this absentmindedly, focused on ordering takeout on your phone before you arrived home.

“Good. Keep it that way. Don’t entertain them again.”

“Italian?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.

“Get that Spinach and Broccoli Alfredo from that small place. Put it on my card.” He liked the dish, but it wasn’t his go-to for special occasions; it was yours.

“Aww, what’s the occasion?”

“You almost getting beaten up.”

You scowled at him.

“Relax. I’m just making sure you’re okay, or my father will resurrect himself and beat my ass.” He laughed, but there was an edge to his humor.

You thought of the men for a few days, their faces lingering in your mind, but you quickly moved on with your hectic life. You were determined not to let Megumi down. He didn’t have many friends besides you that he’d hang out with, let alone have around with his mom, and with his dad gone, he’d never recover from the betrayal if something happened to you.

But when had you ever listened to Megumi?

Today, you wished you had.

--

After they’d left you alone, the days bled together in a haze of exhaustion and dread. You busied yourself with the mundane tasks of preparing for the twins, folding impossibly tiny clothes, and arranging bottles on the counter like talismans against the pain threatening to consume you. Sukuna had been true to his word, filling the gaps with his presence and resources, but even his towering strength couldn’t shield you from the memories.

Each kick, each flutter, was a visceral reminder of the life growing inside you—a life you were determined to protect. Yet, every movement felt like a betrayal, a reminder of the faces you couldn’t erase. Gojo’s sharp grin, dulled now by sorrow. Nanami’s stoicism, cracking under the weight of his regret. They haunted you, their voices whispering in the silence of your nights, their hands ghosting over your skin in dreams that turned to nightmares.

One evening, Sukuna returned, his silhouette framed by the doorway. He carried bags of groceries, the muscles in his arms flexing as he set them down with more care than you thought him capable of. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by something foreign: concern.

“You’re wearing yourself thin,” he said, his voice rough but quiet. His crimson eyes swept over you, lingering on the trembling in your hands as you folded a onesie.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though the lie sat heavy in your chest.

“Princess,” he said again, softer now, and the nickname cracked something inside you. “You’re not fine.”

Your hands froze mid-fold, the fabric slipping from your fingers. The room seemed to tilt, the walls closing in. “I don’t know how to do this,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Sukuna crossed the room in three strides, his arms encircling you. His touch was firm, grounding, and you let yourself lean into him. “You’re doing it,” he murmured against your hair. “And you’re not alone.”

But the words couldn’t reach the hollow ache inside you.

//

The next day, the soft knock at the door was more polite than usual, almost hesitant. Sukuna didn’t wait for you to answer—he never did; he never even knocked—but this time, he lingered in the doorway, his hulking frame lit by the warm glow of the sunlight filtering in through the window. His expression was unreadable, though the faintest flicker of something nervous passed through his crimson eyes.

In his hands, he held a large box, haphazardly wrapped in crinkled newspaper and secured with what looked like electrical tape.

“What is that?” You asked, narrowing your eyes.

He grunted, stepping inside and setting the box down on the coffee table with a thud. “It’s for them,” he said, jerking his chin toward your stomach.

You blinked, thrown off by the unexpected gesture. “You got them… a gift?”

He shot you a glare, defensive already. “Don’t make it weird. It’s not a big deal.”

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you shuffled over to the box, careful to lower yourself onto the couch. Sukuna watched, his arms crossed over his chest, as you peeled back the layers of tape and newspaper.

Inside was chaos.

A mishmash of items tumbled out—two tiny leather jackets, complete with spikes on the shoulders; a set of Blobfish plushies; and what could only be described as baby-sized combat boots, polished to a mirror shine.

Your jaw dropped. “Sukuna… what the hell is this?”

He shrugged, his smirk returning, though it was softer than usual. “Gear. For when they’re old enough to not embarrass me.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up, loud and uncontrollable. It startled even you, breaking through the thick fog of grief and exhaustion that had clung to you for days. “Spiked leather jackets? Combat boots? What are they, tiny bikers?”

“They’re going to be strong,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact as he dropped onto the armchair across from you. “Might as well dress the part.”

You shook your head, still laughing as you held up one of the jackets. It was absurdly small, the spikes dulled for safety. “This is so extra.”

“You’re welcome,” he shot back, though the faint twitch of his lips betrayed his satisfaction at your reaction.

You set the jacket down, your laughter fading into a softer smile. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Sukuna leaned back, his gaze locking onto yours with a rare intensity. “I know,” he said simply.

For a moment, the room was quiet, the air between you charged with something unspoken. He broke the silence first, waving a hand toward the mess of items on the table. “I’m not saying they’ll ever use this crap. Just… figured it might make you laugh.”

Your chest tightened, the ache of loss mingling with something warmer, something unfamiliar. “It did,” you admitted, your voice softer now.

“Good.” He stood abruptly, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “I’ll pick up something more normal next time. Maybe. Only if you drink enough water.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Please don’t. This is perfect.”

Sukuna’s smirk widened as he swaggered toward the door. Just before he left, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder, and said, “I’m not going anywhere, Princess.”

In a moment that could only be described as peak Sukuna, he turned to make his grand exit, only for his nose to collide with the door frame with a resounding thud.

“Stupid... who put this here?” He grumbled, rubbing his nose furiously as if it were the door’s fault for existing. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the room like a cackling hyena.

“Maybe it’s a sign you should start ducking!” You teased, and he shot you a look that was half annoyed, half amused, like a cat that had just been splashed with water, but it was warm.

“I’ll just buy a bigger door!” He retorted, throwing his hands up in exaggerated exasperation.

With that, he turned to leave again, but not before bumping his head against the door frame once more, muttering, “This door is clearly out to get me.” You couldn’t help but laugh even harder.

And then he was gone, leaving you surrounded by the absurdity he’d brought with him. You looked down at the tiny jackets and boots, your hand resting on your stomach as the twins stirred softly. Maybe your laughing did calm them.

//

Same night, your bedroom was cold, the soft glow of a nightlight casting shadows that seemed to shift with your every movement. You slept in the center of the room, one hand resting on your swollen belly. The twins kicked softly, their presence grounding and tormenting you in equal measure.

The guilt was a living thing, coiled tight around your chest. Sukuna had done everything—more than you could have asked for—but the lie you’d spun had fangs. Each day, it bit deeper, carving wounds you couldn’t heal.

You woke screaming, clutching your stomach as panic clawed at your throat. Sukuna was there in an instant, his hands steady on your shoulders, his voice sharp and commanding. “What is it?”

“They’re going to take them,” your voice raw and broken. “They’ll find a way.”

“No one’s taking anything,” his crimson eyes blazing with an intensity that should have comforted you. But the storm inside you raged on.

“You don’t know them,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “They’ll stop at nothing.”

Sukuna cupped your face, his touch surprisingly gentle in his large hands. “They won’t get near you. Not while I’m here.”

But his words were like whispers against a hurricane. You turned away, your gaze falling to the crib, its bars a reminder of the prison you’d built around your heart.

“I’ll protect you,” you murmured to the twins, your hands trembling as you traced the curve of your stomach. “Even if it kills me.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence heavy and oppressive.

“I won’t let you die.” Sukuna whispered. You turned to look at him only to be kissed by him on your temple. It wasn’t anything passionate; it was as if he was sealing a promise.

//

The next morning, you shuffled into the living room, your back aching from another restless night. The twins had been unusually active, their cursed energy—or at least what you deduced was cursed energy—pressing against your insides like waves crashing against fragile glass. You’d woken up drenched in sweat, the faint outline of one of their hands or feet briefly visible under your skin before retreating into the shadows of your body. It was horrifying and beautiful, and you hated that you didn’t know how to feel about it.

Sukuna was already in the living room, sitting on the floor, a cup of coffee in his hand. He glanced up as you entered, his crimson eyes scanning you like he could read every thought you were trying to suppress.

“You look worse than usual,” he said, his voice cutting but not cruel.

“Thanks,” you muttered, dropping onto the couch with a wince.

He didn’t respond right away, just set his cup down, straightened and stretched, his maroon hoodie riding up, revealing markings on his stomach. He watched you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. Despite being on the floor, he was somehow on eye level with you.

After a moment, he stood and disappeared into the kitchen. You didn’t have the energy to ask what he was doing.

When he returned, he was holding a glass of water and a small bowl filled with neatly peeled and cut fruit. He handed them to you without a word, his hand lingering for a moment as you took the bowl.

“Eat,” he said simply, sitting back down on the floor in front of you.

You stared at the fruit. “You didn’t have to—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “Just eat.”

You did, the sweet and sourness of the fruits grounding you. Sukuna watched, his gaze flicking between your face and your stomach.

After a while, he spoke again, his voice softer. “You hate looking at yourself, don’t you?”

Your breath caught; you definitely had a type. Type that kept seeing through your lies!

You didn’t answer, but the way you looked away was answer enough.

Sukuna shifted closer, resting his forearms on his knees. “Can I?”

You frowned, unsure. “Why?”

“Just trust me, Princess,” he said, his smirk faint but not unkind.

Reluctantly, you let him. His hands moved to your baby balloon, his touch firm but careful, soothing you as he pressed his palms against the curve.

“Feel that?” he murmured as one of the twins shifted beneath his hand, the movement almost shy.

You nodded, your throat tight.

“They’re strong,” he said, his voice steady. “They know you’re protecting them.”

Another flutter beneath your skin, this one softer, more deliberate. Sukuna’s hands didn’t move, his warmth radiating through you like a shield against the chill that had settled in your bones.

“You’re not broken,” he said after a moment, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “And you’re not alone in this.”

“You sure are comfortable touching them now.” You teased.

He snorted. “And here I thought I was helping you feel better.”

You laughed and closed your eyes as the twins settled, their energy calming under the weight of his words. The war inside you felt a little less unbearable.

//

A few days later, the apartment was warm, sunlight streaming through the half-open blinds and landing in soft streaks across the living room floor. You sat on the couch, one hand absently resting on your stomach while the other scrolled through your phone. You weren’t looking at anything in particular, just trying to distract yourself from the relentless ache in your lower back and the twins’ ongoing UFC match in your uterus.

Sukuna walked in, carrying a bag of groceries like it was filled with feathers as usual. His broad shoulders filled the doorway as he kicked it shut behind him. He looked at you, then at the untouched snack bowl on the coffee table, then back at you.

“You didn’t eat the strawberries I cut,” he said flatly, setting the bag down.

“I wasn’t hungry,” you replied without looking up.

“You’re always hungry,” he shot back, folding his arms.

You finally glanced up at him, raising a brow. “Maybe I’m evolving.”

He snorted, dropping onto the armchair across from you. “Yeah, into a cranky gargoyle. What’s up with you today?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, your tone too breezy.

His eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating. “Bullshit.”

You sighed, setting your phone down. “I’m fine, Sukuna. Can’t a woman just sit in peace without being interrogated?”

“Not when that woman’s got two cursed powerhouses doing cartwheels inside her,” he replied, his smirk faint but pointed.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back against the couch. “I’m just tired, okay?”

He stared at you for a long moment, his crimson eyes flicking to your stomach, then back to your face.

“You’re not tired,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “You feel weird. About your body.”

Your head snapped up, your mouth opening to protest, but he cut you off with a raised hand.

“Don’t even try to deny it,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You’re confident, sure. You’re also human. You’re carrying their demon spawns, and it’s messing with your head. I’d feel weird too.”

You blinked, thrown off by the bluntness of his words. “That’s… not exactly how I’d put it.”

“Whatever,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Point is, you’re not as slick as you think you are, Princess.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or be offended. “And what, you’re here to be my body image coach now?”

“Very perceptive of you,” he said, standing abruptly. He grabbed the bag of groceries and pulled out a tub of chocolate ice cream and a loaf of bread. Even your cravings weren’t original from your husbands.

“What are you doing?” you asked, watching in bemusement as he started slathering jam on a slice of bread.

“Making you a snack,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Pickle and peanut butter sandwich. Ice cream chaser. Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“That’s disgusting,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

“Yeah, well, so’s the idea of that white-haired one being someone’s dad, but here we are,” he quipped, tossing the sandwich onto a plate and handing it to you.

You stared at the monstrosity, then at him. “This is your solution to my body issues? Weird snacks?”

“No,” he said, sitting back down and gesturing at you with a flourish. “My solution is this: you’re hot, you’re badass, and if anyone says otherwise, I’ll break their spine. But you’re also you, which means you’re allowed to feel weird about turning into a walking incubator for two special-grade cursed-energy gremlins. Doesn’t mean you’re less of anything.”

You blinked. “That’s… oddly sweet.”

“I aim to please,” he grumbled, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. “Now eat the sandwich before I change my mind.”

You laughed, taking a tentative bite of the pickle-peanut butter monstrosity. It was terrible, but for some reason, it made you feel a little better.

//

The next day, the air was crisp, the kind of weather that made the leaves crunch underfoot and the sunlight feel softer. Sukuna strolled beside you, a reusable shopping bag slung over his shoulder like a fashion statement, his other hand steadying you as you waddled along the cobblestone path of the farmer’s market, your face obscured by a large mask. The twins had been kicking non-stop since breakfast, and your back felt like it was holding the weight of the world.

“I don’t know why you dragged me here,” you muttered, squinting at a stall of overpriced honey jars.

“Because you’ve been sulking for days,” Sukuna replied, smirking. “And I’m tired of watching you fold tiny clothes and cry about it.”

Before you could retort, he veered off toward a stall selling baby onesies, grabbing one with a print of a cartoon goat that read Mommy’s Little Terror. He held it up, raising a brow. “This fits their vibe.”

You snorted despite yourself. “They’re not even born yet, and you’re assigning them a vibe?”

“Yeah,” he said, tossing it into the bag. “And this.” He grabbed another onesie, this one pink and emblazoned with Future World Domination Leader.

You laughed, leaning on his arm for support as the twins shifted again. Sukuna noticed immediately, crouching slightly to meet your eyes. “Tired?”

“A little,” you admitted, though your body screamed a lot.

Without a word, he scooped you up effortlessly, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. “What are you—put me down!”

“Shut up, Princess,” he said, grinning as heads turned to stare at the giant man carrying a visibly and heavily—maybe too heavily—pregnant woman like she weighed nothing. “You’ll thank me later.”

An older woman at a nearby stall clasped her hands together, her face lighting up. “Oh, isn’t he just wonderful? So attentive!”

Sukuna didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, I’m pretty great,” he said, flashing her a cocky grin. “My wife’s a champ, though. Carrying our twins and still managing to look this bewitching.”

You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder. “Stoppp.”

He ignored you, turning his attention to the woman. “I’m so proud of her. She’s going to be an amazing birthgiver.”

The woman beamed, clearly swooning. “You’re both so lucky!”

“Yeah,” Sukuna said, his voice softening just enough for only you to hear. “I am.”

//

Later that week, Sukuna insisted on taking you grocery shopping. You protested, but he ignored you as usual, guiding you through the aisles with a hand on your lower back.

“Pickles?” he asked, holding up a jar with a raised brow.

You nodded, reaching for it, but he pulled it back. “What’s the magic word?”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “Please.”

He handed it over with a smug grin. “See? Was that so hard?”

At the checkout, the cashier—a young woman with doe eyes—couldn’t stop glancing at Sukuna, her cheeks pink as she scanned the items.

“These pickles,” she started, clearly searching for a conversation starter. “A craving?”

Sukuna nodded solemnly. “Yeah. She’s eating for three, and I’m eating for stress.”

You choked on a laugh, swatting his arm. “Don’t listen to him.”

The cashier giggled nervously, her eyes lingering on Sukuna a moment too long. He didn’t even notice, too busy helping you into your coat and carrying all the bags in one hand like they weighed air.

Outside, you leaned against him, your feet aching. “You didn’t have to do all of that.”

He smirked, draping an arm around your shoulders. “Sure I did. It’s my job to keep you entertained.”

//

A couple of days later, at the park, Sukuna insisted on renting a swan paddle boat “for the twins.” The boat was comically small for his frame, his knees practically up to his chest as he paddled with exaggerated effort and heavy breaths.

“Why are we doing this?” you asked, trying not to laugh.

“Because I like suffering,” he said, glaring at the water like it had personally offended him.

He was doing it for you, to make you laugh as much as possible.

Then when you finally broke into giggles, he grinned, satisfied.

//

That night, when you struggled to sleep, Sukuna sat by your bed, massaging pain-relieving oils into your swollen ankles with surprising care. His hands were rough but gentle, his expression focused.

“You don’t have to do this,” you murmured, your voice thick with exhaustion.

He glanced up, his crimson eyes softer than you’d ever seen. “I know,” he said simply, his hands never faltering.

You fell asleep to the sound of his low, rumbling voice, humming an off-key lullaby he’d probably made up on the spot. His humming seemed to soothe the twins into no-cartwheeling sleep, which helped you relax for the night.

Sukuna never thought he could be perfect, but in those moments, he was everything you needed.

//

The next day, the yoga studio smelled faintly of lavender and freshly cleaned mats. Sukuna walked in beside you, his presence as imposing as ever. His crimson eyes swept over the room, narrowing slightly at the women who turned to gawk. He helped you settle onto your mat with the kind of careful attention that seemed absurd coming from someone like him, crouching to adjust the pillow beneath your knees before straightening to his full, towering height.

The murmurs started immediately. Low at first, barely audible, but growing louder with every second. You could feel the weight of their stares pressing against your skin, even through the mask you wore to keep a low profile.

Sukuna noticed too. His gaze darkened, his smirk vanishing as his eyes darted across the room. “What’s their problem?” he muttered under his breath.

You tried to ignore it, focusing on your breathing as the instructor began leading the class through stretches. But the whispers didn’t stop.

“She’s the one,” someone hissed, loud enough to reach your ears.

“Carrying twins,” another added, voice dripping with disdain.

You clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms. Sukuna’s head snapped toward the source of the voices, his expression hardening.

And then, of course, Karen appeared.

She strode across the room, her leggings pulled so high they might as well have been a second ribcage. Her smirk was cruel as she stopped in front of you.

The room went quiet. She loomed over you—as you were sitting on the floor—her arms crossed, her expression smug. “What’s it like being the talk of the internet? The woman who couldn’t keep her men in line?”

You felt Sukuna tense beside you, his hand twitching at his side. You placed a hand on his arm, silently telling him to hold back. “I’m here to practice yoga, not entertain you.”

Karen’s smirk widened, her gaze flicking over you like you were something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “Practice yoga? That’s rich. You mean parading around with your ‘fake husband’ after your other two clowns beat people up? Gave people permanent injuries?”

Then she turned to Sukuna and continued, “Oh, I knew for a fact you were a chum who got stuck with her. I was right, and you lied.”

You kept your grip on Sukuna’s arm firm. You spoke calmly but firm. “Watch your mouth! First of all, don’t bring Sukuna into this. Second, I was the one holding them back. I didn’t incite it. I kept my employees alive that day.”

Karen’s gaze swept over you, landing on your stomach, clearly not ready to back off. “Honestly, it’s impressive,” she continued, her tone dripping with mockery. “First, you marry two men, and then you end up with him?”

Sukuna’s growl was low and guttural, his towering frame eclipsing hers. “Watch it.”

“Karen,” you yelled, “you don’t know anything about my life. You don’t know what I’ve been through, what I’ve survived.”

“Survived?” Karen scoffed. “You mean you survived your ‘unnatural ways’ coming out in front of the entire world? Or is it surviving the fact that no one takes you seriously anymore?”

“Sukuna,” you said, your voice lowering. “Let’s just go.”

Your stomach was churning, the weight of her words sinking in like lead. Sukuna’s hand rested lightly on you, grounding you, but even his presence couldn’t shield you from the growing stares around the room.

Karen stepped closer, looming over you, invading your personal space. It felt as though she might resort to physical violence with you at any moment. Her voice dropped, but the venom in her tone remained unmistakable. “People are calling you a sex addict, you know. Can’t say I blame them. Married to two men, pregnant with God knows who’s kids, and now cozying up to him?” She sneered. “You’re not just a scandal—you’re a disgrace. You can’t live without dick can you! What now? You’ll add him to your harem too, you whore! If I were in your place, I would have killed myself!”

The words hit like daggers, each one twisting deeper. Your breath caught, but before you could respond, Sukuna moved.

It happened in an instant.

You gasped, “Ryo!”

The slap cracked through the studio like a thunderclap, silencing the room. Karen stumbled, clutching her cheek, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

Sukuna loomed over her, his towering frame casting a shadow that swallowed her whole. His voice was low, a growl that rumbled through the silence. “Say one more word, and I’ll make sure you never speak again.”

Karen’s confidence crumbled instantly, her wide-eyed shock betraying the venom she’d spewed moments ago. She glanced around the room, searching for someone—anyone—to come to her defense, but the silence was deafening. The other mothers avoided her gaze, their expressions a mix of discomfort and quiet satisfaction.

Her husband wasn’t there, of course. He’d finally had enough of her tirades, her endless need to dominate every room she walked into. The divorce papers had already been filed, and his absence spoke louder than any words ever could. Karen, with her toxic cocktail of insecurity and unchecked cruelty, had been left with nothing but her bitterness.

She didn’t belong here. She wasn’t pregnant and had no intention of ever being so. For years, she’d come to these classes not to bond or prepare for motherhood but to belittle and bully anyone she deemed weaker. She was a relic of high school, clinging to the power she once wielded over others, desperate to make someone else feel smaller to distract from her own failures.

Today, you had been her target. Her divorce had clearly left her hellbent on tearing someone else down, and she might’ve succeeded—she might’ve even turned to violence—if Sukuna hadn’t intervened. You were glad Sukuna didn’t see gender while serving people their karma.

Your heart pounded, but you forced yourself to stand—or try to. A sharp cramp shot through your side, stealing your breath. You stumbled, clutching your stomach as the twins shifted violently.

Sukuna caught you before you could fall, his hands steadying you as he glared at Karen.

His growl cut through the silence. “We’re leaving,” he said, his voice cold and final.

He didn’t move at first, his glare fixed on Karen like a wolf deciding whether the hunt was worth it, like debating whether she deserved another hit.

Finally, he relented, his muscles relaxing as he focused on you. “I’ll get you a private instructor,” he added, his tone softening as he looked at you.

The twins stirred. Pain shot through your abdomen, and you gasped, clutching at Sukuna’s shirt.

“Hang on,” he muttered, his voice softening as he carried you out of the studio.

Behind you, Karen stood frozen, her face pale and her cheek still burning red. No one moved to comfort her. No one even looked at her. The only sound in the room was the quiet creak of the door as it closed behind you.

//

Once in the car, you buried your face in his chest, your breathing erratic. He held you close, his large hand stroking your hair awkwardly but gently.

“Don’t listen to them,” he said, his voice firm but uncharacteristically tender. “Only you know the truth. Only you know what you went through and how you survived.”

//

The ride home was quiet. Sukuna carried you inside, settling you on the couch with the kind of gentleness that made your chest ache.

But the silence stretched on, and the weight of Karen’s words pressed down on you like a vice. The twins shifted again, their energy erratic, feeding off your turmoil.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Sukuna crouched in front of you, his large hands resting on your knees. “Don’t,” he said firmly. “Don’t apologize for insecure humans.”

You nodded, but the hollow ache in your chest didn’t ease.

As the hours passed, you found yourself staring out the window, the city lights blurring as tears filled your eyes.

Sukuna stayed close, his presence steady but silent. When the tears finally came, hot and unrelenting, he pulled you into his arms, holding you as you cried.

And though he didn’t say it, his arms were a fortress around you as the world outside kept spinning, cruel and unforgiving. He silently vowed that no one would ever hurt you again.

//

Days after that, the silence that pressed down on your chest and made it hard to breathe. You sat curled up on the couch, an old photo clutched tightly in your hands. It was worn at the edges, the glossy finish dulled from countless times you’d held it. In it, Gojo was grinning, his arm slung lazily over Nanami’s shoulders. You were in the middle, laughing at something you couldn’t remember now, your face lit with a happiness that felt like it belonged to someone else. The pain it brought was sharp, raw, an open wound that refused to heal no matter how much time passed.

Maybe you didn’t love them anymore—not in the way you once had. That love had been replaced by something darker, heavier. But the ache of what they’d done to you, the way they’d left you to drown in your own loneliness while they found comfort in each other… it consumed you.

You didn’t hear Sukuna until he was standing in the doorway, his broad frame silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” he asked, his voice softer than usual but still carrying that edge of exasperation.

You startled, quickly tucking the photo under your thigh. “I’m not doing anything.”

His crimson eyes narrowed, and he crossed the room in two strides, crouching down in front of you. “Don’t lie to me, Princess. You’re terrible at it.”

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I just… I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have left.”

The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but they were out before you could stop them. Sukuna’s expression shifted to something unreadable.

“You’re joking,” he said, his voice flat.

“I’m not,” you whispered, your hands trembling in your lap. “I mean, they didn’t care about me, not really, but… I still left, and so much happened. People got hurt.”

“You kept the people alive!” Sukuna said, his tone sharper now. He leaned closer, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “You walked away because they didn’t deserve you.”

You shook your head, the tears falling faster now. “What if I made a mistake? What if I should’ve tried harder? Maybe none of this would have happened.”

“Stop,” Sukuna snapped, his voice cutting through your spiral. He grabbed your chin gently but firmly, forcing you to look at him. “Do you really think that despite one of them having the gift of six eyes, if he still couldn’t see the life growing inside you, they wouldn’t have taken you for granted through the pregnancy as well?! They’re the ones who fucked up. Not you. They had you—you��and they chose to ignore you. That’s on them, not you.”

The conviction in his voice made your chest tighten, but the doubt still lingered. “But—”

“No,” he interrupted, his thumb brushing against your jaw in a soft gesture. “No ‘but.’ You didn’t leave because you stopped loving them. You left because they stopped showing you they loved you.”

His words cracked something in you, like an old vase you never saw but always sensed the presence of in your heart’s home.

You let out a shaky breath, the photo slipping from your lap and landing face-up on the couch. Sukuna glanced at it, his jaw tightening for a moment before he reached for it. He studied it silently, his thumb brushing over your smiling face.

“They didn’t deserve this version of you,” he said, his voice low. “And they sure as hell don’t deserve the you now.”

The warmth in his words, the unguarded softness, made your heart ache in a different way. He handed the photo back to you, his hand lingering over yours for a moment.

“I’m not saying it’ll stop hurting,” he admitted, his crimson eyes meeting yours. “But don’t waste your time wondering if you should’ve stayed. You didn’t leave for no reason. Remember the past version of yourself in that exact moment when everything was crumbling around you. What you felt. Don’t put yourself through that.”

You nodded, the weight in your chest easing just slightly. Sukuna stood, offering you his hand. “Come on,” he said, his smirk returning faintly. “You’ve been crying for hours. Let me make you something to eat before you wither away. Besides, you deserve better. Better than them. Better than what they gave you.”

Then smugly added, “Someone as amazing as me.”

Despite yourself, you laughed softly, taking his hand.

//

The first signs came like whispers in the dark—a sharp, fleeting twinge low in your abdomen, a dull ache spreading like ripples in water. You brushed it off as stress, convincing yourself it was nothing.

But Sukuna noticed. He always noticed.

His crimson eyes tracked your every move, narrowing at the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your hand lingering on your belly a beat too long.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you lied, forcing a smile.

His gaze hardened, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “You’re a terrible liar, Princess.”

That evening, as you struggled to stand after dinner, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. Sukuna was at your side in an instant, his large hand steadying you.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. “We’re going to the hospital.”

You tried to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced you.

// Music

{The hospital was cold, sterile as usual. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting harsh shadows on the linoleum floors. The smell of antiseptic clung to everything, making your stomach churn.

You sat on the examination table, the thin paper gown sticking uncomfortably to your skin. The room felt too bright, too exposed. Sukuna sat beside you, his broad frame dwarfing the small plastic chair. His expression was unreadable, but his hand rested on his knee, the tension in his fingers betraying his calm façade. The fake husband playing the role perfectly.

The doctor entered, her face carefully neutral, but you caught the hesitation in her movements.

“Let’s take a look,” she said, her tone professional but soft.

The ultrasound gel was cold against your skin, and the room silent except for the faint hum of the machine. You stared at the monitor, waiting for the familiar sound of their heartbeats.

But the silence stretched on.

The doctor’s brow furrowed, her hand pausing over the probe.

“What is it?” Sukuna’s voice was tense.

The doctor hesitated, her hand hovering over the ultrasound machine as though the pause could soften the blow. Her eyes flicked to you, then back to the screen, her expression unreadable.

“I’m… not detecting a heartbeat.”

The words knocked the air from your lungs.

“No,” the denial spilling out before you could think. Your voice trembled, barely audible. “No, that’s not right. They were moving. Just yesterday. I felt them. I was craving pickles, and I had really bad back pain too; they were moving so much.”

The doctor’s face was heavy with sympathy as she set the probe down. “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, the room tilting around you. Your hand flew to your stomach, pressing against the curve as if your touch could summon them back, as if you could will them to respond. “They can’t be gone,” you choked out, your voice breaking.

The doctor took a breath, her voice steady but clinical, as if detachment could lessen the cruelty of what she had to say. “It’s an extraordinarily rare case—heteropaternal superfecundation combined with double fertilization. Their development was… incompatible with life.”

The medical jargon felt cruel, meaningless. Just noise.

Sukuna’s hand found yours, his grip firm, grounding, but it only highlighted how far away you felt. It made it real. His jaw was clenched, his crimson eyes darker than you’d ever seen, but he said nothing. He couldn’t.

Your head spun, the walls closing in, the fluorescent lights glaring like they were trying to expose every raw nerve. The doctor’s voice faded, a dull hum drowned out by the pounding of your own heartbeat.

“They were mine,” you whispered.

Sukuna leaned closer, his hand steady against your back.

The doctor excused herself quietly, the door clicking shut behind her. The silence that followed pressed against your chest like a weight you couldn’t lift.

You sat frozen, your hand still pressed to your stomach, waiting for something—anything. A kick, a flutter, some proof that they were still there.

But there was nothing.

You curled into yourself, clutching your stomach as though you could shield what was already gone.

“They were mine,” you repeated, the words a broken mantra. “They were mine.”

Sukuna’s grip was almost bruising. His other arm wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest.

He didn’t speak, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. He just held you, his breath steady against your hair as your world fell apart.

After months of crying, your tears had finally run out. You couldn’t will them now, not that you wanted to.

You were done.

The dissociation came slowly, creeping in like a shadow. You faded into hollow silence, your body still in his arms. You stared at the floor, your eyes unfocused, your mind retreating into a void where the suffering couldn’t reach you.

Sukuna’s voice broke through the fog, low and firm. “Stay with me, Princess.”

But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

The hollowness swallowed you whole, leaving nothing but the ghost of what could have been.

But Sukuna stayed, his presence a steady anchor in the storm, an anchor you couldn’t see.

//

The procedure to remove them was a nightmare. The machines beeped; the cold metal of the instruments glinted, their sharp edges catching your eye and filling your chest with dread.

Sukuna stood by your side. His hand wrapped around yours like a hazy lifeline, anchoring you to a reality you didn’t care about.

His crimson eyes never left your face, his expression unreadable but tense, his jaw set as though he could will the universe to reverse itself by sheer force.

The procedure began, the doctor’s voice a muted hum in the background. Pressure built in your abdomen, the sensation alien and invasive, like something being torn away from the core of your existence. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste grounding you.

But you didn’t scream no matter how much it hurt. You couldn’t bring yourself to care whether you made it or if the universe would be kind enough to end it all through a freak incident of medical malpractice.

Sukuna didn’t flinch, didn’t move, his grip tightening as if to remind you he was there. The machines continued their cold, unfeeling symphony, and the minutes stretched into an eternity.

//

When it was over, there was only silence. The absence of their presence, a void that swallowed everything else.

The doctor murmured something to Sukuna, her words slipping past you like water over stone. You sat up shakily, the hospital gown sticking to your damp skin, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts. But mind wasn’t there.

“I want to see them,” you whispered. “Please.”

Sukuna was in front of you in an instant, his broad chest blocking your view as he pulled you into his arms. His grip was firm but careful, cradling you as though you might shatter as the doctors moved discreetly behind him.

“No,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “You don’t want to see them, Princess. Trust me.”

You clutched at his shirt with trembling hands. “They were mine,” you choked out, your words muffled against him.

“They still are,” he murmured, his tone softer than you’d ever heard. His hand stroked your back in slow, grounding motions, his presence steady even as his own turmoil blared beneath.

The sight of them would haunt him forever.

He’d seen them as the doctors worked quickly, their small, fragile forms laid out in a shallow steel tray. The boy’s limbs were long, spindly, his jawline so sharp it was almost serrated. His translucent skin revealed a web of delicate veins, branching like cracks in glass. The girl’s features were softer, her tiny hands fused into curling nubs, her face serene despite the unnatural bulge beneath her closed eyelids. Their hair split down the middle—one half blond, the other stark white—a cruel mirror of their fathers.

They were chimeric, a grotesque fusion of too much DNA, as the doctors explained to him later, alone. “Incompatible with life,” they had said clinically, as though that phrase could encompass the enormity of the loss.

They told him there was no recorded case of such a thing ever happening.

Sukuna stayed silent through it all, his hand flexing at his side as if he wanted to destroy the room, the machines, the universe itself. But when he returned to you, he was calm again, his rage buried beneath layers of quiet resolve.

The hospital was a blur after that, like you were seeing through water. Sukuna dealt with the hospital staff in his usual manner—efficient, cold, terrifying. He had the remains cremated, sparing you the finality of their lifeless forms. You barely noticed when he disappeared to speak with the staff, his voice low and clipped, or when he returned, his presence looming beside you like a shield you didn’t ask for.

When you asked about the remains, your voice hollow and detached, he didn’t sugarcoat it. “It’s already done,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for questions.

You nodded, not because you agreed, but because you didn’t care enough to argue.

“Let’s go home,” he said, his voice steady as he helped you to your feet.

You clung to him as he carried you out of the hospital, but your expressions remained unreadable. The hollow ache in your chest felt endless, but Sukuna didn’t let go, his presence a fragile shield against the unbearable weight of what you’d lost.

//

The days after were an endless cycle of nothingness. Sukuna filled the void with his relentless presence, taking over everything he already used to manage. He cooked meals you barely touched, cleaned the apartment with medical precision, scheduled your appointments, and arranged therapy without asking.

“You need this,” he said when you stared blankly at the brochure he placed in front of you. His tone firm, final.

You went because it was easier than refusing. The therapist spoke gently, her words carefully chosen, but they washed over you like white noise. You answered her questions in monotone, offering just enough to keep the sessions moving. He drove you to and back from your appointments and waited for you in between.

“It’ll take time,” she said once after your session, her voice warm with reassurance. Sukuna nodded. You didn’t respond.}

//

At home, you spent hours by the window, staring at the sea. The waves rolled in and out, unchanging, as if mocking the chaos that had become your life. Sukuna hovered in the background, his movements quiet. He never pushed, never demanded anything from you.

Sometimes he’d sit nearby, reading or scrolling through his phone, his presence grounding in its consistency. Other times, he’d leave you entirely alone, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway as he gave you space you didn’t know how to fill.

When nightmares came, they weren’t violent anymore. They strangled you silently. You’d wake in a cold sweat, your chest heavy with an ache that felt like it would never leave. Sukuna was always there, sitting at the edge of your bed, his hand resting on your shoulder or his voice a low murmur in the dark. Had he stopped sleeping? You were too dissociated to argue.

“It’s okay,” he’d say, though you didn’t believe him.

One night, you woke to find him standing in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the faint light from the hall. He didn’t notice you watching as he muttered under his breath, his voice low and dangerous.

“If they ever come near you again, I’ll kill them.”

You didn’t ask who he meant. You didn’t want to know.

No matter what Sukuna did—his soft gestures, his quiet presence, his unwavering care—you remained numb.

He brought you flowers once, bright and vibrant, placing them on the table with a small, awkward shrug. You glanced at them briefly before returning to your spot by the window.

He cooked your favorite meal, setting the plate in front of you with a forced smirk. “Eat, Princess,” he said, but when you pushed the food around with your fork and left the table without a word, he didn’t stop you.

Even when he tried to make you laugh—muttering sarcastic comments about the people outside, rolling his eyes dramatically when the news played something ridiculous—it barely registered.

The world felt distant, like you were watching it through frosted glass.

Sukuna’s presence was the only constant, but even that felt like something happening to someone else.

And though you didn’t react, didn’t acknowledge the weight of his efforts, he stayed. Silent, steady, unyielding.

//

One night when the pain got too much, you walked to his room and cried in his chest. After months.

He held you the way he always did, but it was stronger this time, as if trying to anchor you in a storm that wouldn’t pass. He didn’t fill the void with empty reassurances, nor did he push you to speak.

The next day, things went back to you staring at nothing.

--

Japan

Gojo sat slouched, manspreading on the couch, his T-shirt messy like his hair, eyes uncovered, hands dangling between his knees, a photo clutched so tightly the edges were crumpled. The room was dim, lit only by the gray haze of a city that never quite slept. His six eyes scanned the image for the hundredth time, even though he knew every detail by heart—the grainy black-and-white outline of two unmistakable shapes, curled together like yin and yang. He’d gotten it from the hospital you visited before leaving.

He let out a hollow laugh, the sound breaking the oppressive silence. “Twins. Our twins.” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard.

Nanami stood by the window, staring out at the endless city lights. His sweater covered with alcohol stains, his sleeves rolled up to reveal veins that looked ready to burst.

Gojo tilted his head back, his eyes burning as he stared at the ceiling. “Do you think she—” He stopped, his voice failing him. He tried again. “Do you think she hates us?”

Nanami’s face was as if it had been carved from stone, but his eyes betrayed the storm beneath. “She doesn’t hate us,” he spoke lowly. “She… doesn’t trust us. There’s a difference.” It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

Gojo’s laugh was sharper this time, almost cruel. “Trust? Trust died the night we left her alone in this goddamn drawing room. Remember that? Her silently crying, begging us to tell her we cared, and we…” His voice faltered, and he shook his head. “We crawled into bed together like cowards.”

Nanami’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching, shattering the glass he’d forgotten he was holding. But before Gojo could look up, his own RCT healed him. He stared at the disappeared wound like he wanted it back. “I remember, but I don’t think that was the final straw. I think it was the same weekend.”

Gojo stayed silent for a long time at that and then asked, “do you think they’ll look like her?” His voice softened, and he stared down at the photo, his thumb brushing over the image. “Her smile…”

Nanami’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I hope they don’t look like us.”

Gojo’s head snapped up, his six eyes narrowing. “Why the hell would you say that?”

Nanami’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Because we ruin everything we touch.”

Gojo leaned back, letting the photo fall to the coffee table. His hands ran through his hair, tugging hard enough to sting. “They’re better off without us.”

Nanami walked over and sat across from him, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of them. “Everything hurts.”

Gojo’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile before falling flat. “Hurt? Nanami, this… this is beyond hurt. This is…” He gestured vaguely, words failing him. “I’m empty. She’s gone, and I…”

Nanami reached for the photo, his fingers brushing against the image. “At least we have this,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with something raw. “Something to know it was real.”

He paused for what felt like an eternity and then added, “She’ll protect them.”

Gojo’s six eyes dimmed, their usual brilliance dulled by exhaustion. “Yeah. She’ll protect them. From us.”

Nanami’s grip on the photo tightened. “From the world we brought her into.”

The two men sat in silence, the photo lying between them like a ghost of what could have been. The air was thick with grief, regret, and a despair so deep it felt like drowning. Neither spoke again that night.

A/N: Okay, y’all, save the rage essays for after the next chapter—then hit me with your 14-page death threats. This pain was necessary for the redemption arc, but I promise groveling starts in the new year. Pain first, comfort later—like a good skincare routine. Drop your theories, death threats (creative ones pls), or tell me if Gojo should be banned from gaming conventions forever. Your comments = my serotonin boost, so don’t hold back. Did this chapter ruin your day, your week, or your will to exist? Let me know. 😘"

Chapter 7 (alt ending 1.3) - Sapphire Echoes (Tumblr/Ao3)

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[rainyorca]

You're So Handsome When I'm All Over Your Mouth 𓇼 Reigen Arataka X Reader

Content warnings: F!reader, nsfw, cunnilingus, p n v, slight voyeurism, sick!reader, established relationship, smut.

Word count: 2,716

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

Reigen isn’t at all a careless lover. He’s very attentive, observant, and careful. Not once has he hurt you, on purpose at least. Sometimes the grip he has on your thighs is enough to bruise but of course he never truly means to do that. He gets excited fairly easily, years of abstinence makes it a bit hard for him to stay still. Especially when there’s such a lovely prize standing in front of him. 

You're half asleep, worn out from the sickness you had recently caught. It was a simple cold but eventually led into something that made you stay home from work and here you are, 6 pm on a Tuesday bedridden and just waking up from a short nap. You're sprawled out on the soft blankets of your bed, legs open slightly and arms slightly above your head. You're in your panties and one of Reigen’s t-shirts that you stole from his closet a few months ago. 

He’s standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with a flushed face as if he’s never seen you like this before. You rub your sleepy eyes, sitting up slightly to look at him. “Hey Reigen,” you mumble, your throat dry and voice raspy. You try to sit up but he stops you, getting on the bed and hovering above you slightly. He gently pushes your shoulder down and then feels your forehead with the back of his hand. “Do you feel hot? Is that why you’re laying on top of the blankets instead of under them?” He questions with a rather serious face. “Nooo,” you hum, “I just woke up.” 

“I can see that,” he backs up, standing back on the ground. “What’re you even doing here,” you say, it comes out more like a statement than a question. “Just came to see how you were feeling,” he responds, sitting at the edge of the bed, “and you told me to come by whether I felt like it, that’s why you gave me the spare key remember?” You nod slowly, trying to recall that conversation from months ago. You watch him loosen his tie and let it drape around his neck. For some reason you start to feel hot not just in your face but between your legs too. He takes off his jacket and then unbuttons his shirt just a little so you can see his collar bones. To distract yourself, you start asking about him so he could do his usual rambling. 

“How was your day?” You ask, watching his expression change a bit at your question. “It was good, there were a lot of evil spirits today. Mob and Serizawa did an excellent job today,” he responds, “as did I of course.” 

“I expect nothing less from the greatest psychic of the modern age,” you tease and he narrows his eyes at you. You know his little secret, you always have. You are incredibly hard to lie to after all. “Let’s not forget who’s bedridden and currently pantless in front of her boss,” he pinches the skin of your calf, “completely unprofessional.” 

“And yet my boss broke into my house, came into my room, which happens to be the place I change and sleep mind you, hence no pants, and watched me wake woke up,” you shoot back, “you wanna talk about unprofessional because I got a whole list of things that HR would deem as unprofessional.” 

He’s silent for a moment and then lets out a breathy chuckle. “Good to see you still have a sense of humor even when you're all gross and sick,” he says, patting your leg. “If I was gross you wouldn’t be looking at me like that,” you respond, letting your head fall back on your pillow. You can feel his eyes on you. His fingers trail up to your thigh, rubbing the soft flesh as he tries to make you feel better by his warm touches. “I’ll make you some tea,” he says, squeezing your thigh before getting up. 

You feel that pit in your stomach form, the feeling you always get upon your arousal. You close your legs, rubbing your thighs together as you try to get rid of the feeling. The image of him standing over you has been seared in your mind and you can’t get it out, it only adds to heat between your legs. You clamp your eyes shut, slowly trailing your hand down into your panties. You can hear him in the kitchen, humming a little tune as he brews your tea. 

A hiss escapes your lips when your fingers brush over your sensitive clit. You slowly rub circles, focusing on the mental image of your boyfriend. It’s risky, doing something like this with him here but you know he won’t mind it. You continue to run circles on your clit, picking up in pace until you can feel your panties are practically soaked. Soft moans fall off your lips as you try to force yourself to your release as quickly as possible. 

You keep this up for as long as you can, trying to get one out before he comes back but if you’re being honest, you want him to walk in on you. That’s when you hear rustling by the door. You open your eyes slightly to see if Reigen is standing there and to your enjoyment, he is. You stop for a moment but keep your hand in your panties. “Reigen,” you sigh, a little raspy. He has your tea in one hand and a bowl of grapes in the other. He must’ve known that you hadn’t eaten today. He has a slight pout on his face, it was more of a frown actually. Your eyes travel down to his pants where you can see a visible bulge and a small stain of precum seeping through his gray pants. 

“Reigen,” you repeat a bit more happily this time. “I leave you alone for a few minutes and this is what you spend your time doing,” he sighs, walking over and putting your tea and grapes down on the nightstand. “Sorry,” you apologize, sheepish. “I told you earlier today I would take care of you,” he says, slowly crawling into bed with you, “and you’re not letting me do that by doing this on your own.” 

You suddenly feel nervous, which was weird. Maybe it was because of the way he slowly moved down between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. He kisses your thighs, his hands rubbing the sides of them and pushing them together. He scoots down a little further, laying on his stomach. He closes his eyes as he sucks small reddish-purple marks on your skin. He hovers about your cunt, opening his eyes to watch you. He moves your panties to the side, maintaining eye contact as he sticks his tongue out and presses it against your sensitive bud. You swear your brain just short circuited at the way he was looking at you but you kept your composure. He continues with his open mouth act, rolling his tongue around your clit but never closing his lips down on you. 

It’s the fact that he looks so servile while doing this. His eyebrows are arched and his eyes are lidded and innocent. He’s already making quiet noises that hit you deep in your soul. He finally closes his mouth around your clit, sucking and rolling his tongue over your sensitive bud. He still looks up at you with those innocent eyes. You throw your head back with a whine, not being able to handle looking at him or you’ll cum way sooner than you want to. 

He slides down to your entrance, sucking at you until he slips his tongue in. You let out a satisfied sigh, a lazy smile on your face as he eats you out like your the best dessert he’s ever had. Your hands find their way to his head, running through his dirty blonde hair to grab a handful. You're not a head pusher, you just like to keep your hands on a somewhat stable surface. You can feel the bed moving as he rubs himself against the blankets, the feeling causing his eyes to tear up. “Rei,” you whimper, feeling him move up to your clit again. His hands are on both your thighs, pushing them open for better access. You grind your hips against his face slightly, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge. 

He just looks so perfect down there, he’s focused and determined to make you feel better and it’s certainly working. Your hands fly up to grip your pillows when that coil in your stomach starts to unravel. Pleasure prickles down your spine and you dig your nails into the soft flesh of your pillows. He pushes two fingers into you, earning a little whine of surprise from you. It’s perfect, everything about this moment is perfect. He's moaning quietly into your cunt, making you vibrate in anticipation as you try to delay your own orgasm. 

Your back arches off the bed as your orgasm washes over you. He closes his eyes and focuses on really pulling it out of you. You whine his name like a prayer except it’s much sweeter and more beautiful to him. He puts his mouth back at your entrance to collect your release, pulling away from you slowly with his mouth open in a quiet pant. 

Your slick and release is all over his mouth and chin, he’s panting quietly but has a satisfied look in his eyes. “You’re so handsome when I’m all over your face,” you huff, taking in the sight. He smiles at you, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and sitting up. He’s still positioned between your legs and you can see the outline of his cock in his pants. He stares down at you, his shoulders rising and falling with every breath he takes. “Feeling any better?” He asks, leaning in so he can press his forehead against yours, “need a drink really quick?” 

You reach behind him and push on his ass so his hips meet yours. He lets out a little noise of surprise before laughing a bit. “Okay, okay,” he hums, sitting back again and fiddling with his belt, “yes ma’am.” You lay your head back on your pillow at that simple word that just makes you want him even more. He finally undoes his belt and drops it on the floor, pulling his pants down just enough so he had some room. “Where do you want me?” He asks, brushing his hair back with his hand. You love how messy his hair looks like that, and seeing his face without the bangs makes you really realize just how pretty he is. “Everywhere, all at once,” you respond jokingly. “I wish I could,” he sighs, leaning down and pressing his cock against your folds. 

He rubs against you a bit to get himself prepped and then he gets back on his knees again and grabs your hips. He lifts your lower half off the bed, your upper back still on the bed. You let your arms fall limp above your head as he holds you at kinda an upside down angle, but your head is still resting you on pillows. He uses a free hand to press his cock into you, sliding into your entrance with ease. A noise of satisfaction from you echoes in his ears and he holds you there for a few seconds before slowly pulling out and then pushing back in. 

Not even a few minutes in and he’s already a mess, he’s practically drooling at this point. The only sounds that fill the air of your room are skin against skin and a mixture of his louder, whiny moans and your quieter ones. He’s always been a little more vocal than you. His thrusts are at a decent pace, not too slow or too fast. It’s a bit hard for you to breathe since your nose is stuffy so you keep your mouth open. “You feel so good—-haah,” he groans, “so so good.” You reach down to rub your fingers over your clit, matching your pace with his thrusts. “I love it when you do that,” he slurs out, digging his nails into your hips. He picks up his pace a little, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows as he focuses on getting a decent quick pace. He swallows, trying to keep himself from getting sloppy. 

You clench down on him like a vice, causing him to let out a little strangled moan. He’s gentle with you, because he knows your body is probably already aching. This is why he’s such a good lover, his attention to details, to everything. The sting from his nails in your skin contributes to your overall pleasure though and he knows that. He knows what you like and how you like it. The specific words he says and how he says them. You’re most sensitive parts of your body, he knew everything really. He only learned this much about you because of all his times watching you while you pleasured yourself. He was the one with the idea and you’ll  never regret telling him yes because now he knows you so well especially only after a few months of dating. 

He ignores the ache in his legs from being in this position too long and instead focuses on your face. “You’re so pretty—-fuckk,” he whines when he feels you clench around him again. “Reigen,” you whimper his name, moving your fingers against your clit with more vigor. “I’m gonna cum,” you huff, clenching your free hand around your pillow. “Me too,” he breathes, sounding more fucked out than you. His over sensitivity always gets the best of him. “Wanna fill you up so bad,” he grunts, letting his head fall a little. He usually likes cumming on your stomach, seeing how pretty your skin looks with his release sticking to it. Today he’s definitely gonna have a hard time pulling out. “Fuck I’m gonna cum inside you,” he groans out, sounding more apologetic. 

Your body tightens as your release starts to approach, you continue your efforts on your clit, just a little more sloppy now. He’s first to cum, his body tenses up and shakes as he reaches his climax. He lets out the most beautiful sound you’ve heard from him in a while. It was like a sob mixed with a moan, whiney and a little long. He throws his head back, eyes rolling back as he continues to fuck you through his orgasm. During that time you hit your release, letting it wash over you. Your toes curl and your back arches even more off the bed. You just wanna pull him in and kiss him but he’s still holding onto you tightly. He thrusts a few more times into you before holding himself inside you. He stays there for just a few moments, catching his breath before pulling out with a sigh. He drops your hips, letting you rest comfortably on the bed now. 

He leans down, putting his hands on either side of you. You can feel his sweat dripping into your skin. He slowly lays down letting his head rest on your upper stomach while the rest of his body is slotted between your legs. “I don’t know if that’ll necessarily make me feel better,” you sigh, finally being able to breathe, “but at least I got what I wanted after being alone all day.” You lift a hand to run your fingers through his hair, carefully feeling the dirty blonde strands. “Reigen,” you say, raising a brow. You can feel his chest rise and fall slowly on your stomach. “Reigen?” You question again, lifting your head to see if he was watching you. 

You let out a sigh when you realize he’s fast asleep. His eyes shut softly and his lips parted as he took in shallow breaths. “Aren’t I supposed to fall asleep on you,” you mumble to yourself, “I’m the sick one after all.” You brush some strands of  hair out of his face and even though you're slightly irritated, his sleeping state makes you smile.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼

[villain-crown]

forbid | @jegulus-microfic | words: 657

critical care, part 3 (part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9)

a Jegulus nurse!AU

The thing about calling a code blue was that it could quickly turn into social hour if you weren’t careful. Mates that you hadn’t seen in awhile came out of the woodwork from all over the hospital to get in on the action, leading to a sort of impromptu reunion over the patient you were working to snatch from the claws of death.

“Lily! Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in ages—“

“Dorcas! What unit are you on these days?”

“Oi, Barty, I thought they fired you!”

Like now, apparently, as every person James had ever fucking met decided to grab a front row seat to spectate as he tried to make small talk with Regulus Black.

“It was a lovely day yesterday,” James began when they’d finished delivering a second shock to their patient. “The sun was out. Do you get out much, Regulus?”

James could feel Sirius’s suspicious gaze as Regulus glanced incredulously away from the new rhythm tracing itself on the cardiac monitor.

Still v. fib.

“…No. Sirius locks me in my bedroom and just lets me out four days a week when it’s time for me to be here—what the fuck kind of question is that, Potter!?”

Bloody hell, but Dorcas had clearly lied to Marlene about Regulus’s personality.

Sweet, Dorcas had called him.

No. This was a feral devil cat with a mouth full of knives and Merlin save him but James was so fucking into it.

“I wouldn’t rule that out,” Barty Crouch Jr. butted in unnecessary, watching Regulus’s vitriol land with an entertained expression. “One time I asked Reg if he wanted to check out my new apartment and Black threatened to peel my face off and put it on the CPR mannequin. I still haven’t gotten a proper answer.”

“There’s no need for him to go anywhere with you unsupervised, Crouch,” Sirius scowled, turning up the energy level of the defibrillator for their next attempt. “Just describe it to him.”

“Describe it? Well, okay. Picture it, Reg. You and Evan, in my bed—“

“Stop messing with him, idiot,” Regulus rolled his eyes, finally shoving Crouch’s arm off his delicate shoulders as Sirius picked up a spare saline flush and squirted it right in the blond’s face. To Sirius, he added, “he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, you know.”

“I’m calling HR you fucking asshole!”

“Fine, if you want to play that game. I’m sure they’d love to hear about you taking it from Lupin in the supply room last month.”

“Reggie! You can’t say dirty things like that! I forbid it!”

“I say a lot worse under the right circumstances, Sirius.”

James felt a flash of lightning race down his spine as Regulus maintained unwavering eye contact with him as he said so, ignoring Sirius’s outraged sputtering.

“I told you not to let Sirius catch you looking at his baby brother,” Marlene pointed out in an undertone, sidling up to James in the already crowded room.

“He’s bloody perfect.” James replied, unrepentant. “I’m going to marry him.”

“Dorcas called him sweet. I’m not getting that vibe.”

“Maybe he just needs a little… persuading.”

Marlene rolled her eyes, opening the airway drawer of the crash cart at Dorcas’s behest. “He’s mean, James.”

“He’s pretty, Marlene.”

“…You aren’t going to see reason, are you?”

“Absolutely not. Regulus Black is going to have my children.”

She looked back at the petite man with obvious misgivings. “If he doesn’t kill you first.”

“He could carve his initials into me with a scalpel and I’d thank him.”

“…You’re fucking crazy.”