#“wait hes actually taking care of me?”

[wasyago]

Could you give us some more about gem in the au? I love all the stuff about this au

very funny to me how i said "oh im not gonna do anything else for this au" and here we are now...

first of all, have a doodle. it felt unfair that all the other characters have refs bit gem doesn't, so here she is now

gem is not "officially" part of the crew, she doesn't really like cave exploring unless it's like, a big open cave close to the surface. anything more complex than that and she's out. but she does love her caves obsessed friends, so she usually ends up being the one to drive them to the sight, and often stays outside in case of emergency.

on the night pearl and tango died she was doing exactly that, chilling outside in their van waiting for them to return. who knew that everything would end this way...

gem is... interesting to think about. because she lost two very dear people to her, but she wasn't actually there to see with her own eyes. and after etho tells her about what happened down there... it's not that she doesn't believe him, etho's changed appearance being proof, but its certainly hard to grasp. and she just has to accept it as a fact.

and then she also has to take care of etho, who is injured and so deeply affected by everything that happened that she probably feels a little bad for not being able to fully understand what he's going through. she's also grieving and she's in a lot of pain from loss too, but she has to put it to the side to be there for her mess of a brother.

i dont think she blames him, not consciously at least. she probably doesn't think etho is lying, or that he killed them on purpose and is now pretending. she knew him her whole life, this is not something etho would do. but it's still difficult. for both of them it's very difficult.

[dadvans]

when I want to run away (I drive off in my car) [bucktommy]

Chimney comes over with an armful of DVDs. Mandated brother-in-law break-up bonding time. Buck is pretty sure that isn’t a thing, at least not the kind that Chimney seems to be suggesting with what are discernibly all romcom titles. Buck is pretty sure Chimney should be taking him out and getting him wasted and encouraging him to get laid, but then again he’s friends with Tommy too so there might be some allegiance at play here.

He groans when Chimney puts on Say Anything.

“What, you actually know a movie made before 2012?”

“Tommy loves this one,” Buck replies. There had been a showing at repertory cinema in July and Tommy had dragged them both to escape the afternoon heat. It had been… sweet. There had maybe been three other people in the place who ignored them in the back row, making out like teenagers.

“Yeah, he’s always been a secret softie,” Chimney says.

“I’d say you should be over at his place with these,” Buck continues, flipping through the titles. Love Actually. The Proposal. Crazy, Stupid, Love. “These are actually his favorites. Wait, was I your second choice?”

“What? No,” Chimney says, but he sounds kind of cagey about it.

“He’s probably too busy cliff diving or BASE jumping.” Buck drops the DVDs. “He was the one who dumped me, remember? I don’t think he’s too hung up to need a chick flick movie marathon.”

“Now that is not true. Secret softie, remember? He’s hurting as much as I’ve ever seen, he just doesn’t wear it on his sleeve like some people.” Chimney gives him a very pointed look. “I bet he stood outside your door a half hour after he left hoping you’d chase after him, feeling like a total idiot.”

That’s new. “Did he tell you that?”

Chimney shrugs. “Maybe not verbatim, but he may have let something slip in a moment of total weakness.”

Buck snorts. “So, what are you doing over here with me and these then?”

“I was maybe hoping I could inspire you into some of your usual Buck heroics,” Chimney admits, then has the gall to look offended when Buck twists to stare at him, confused. “What? I’m a meddler. I notoriously meddle. C’mon, he said some things he wishes he could take back, but maybe he’s not as confident as you give him credit for. He’s a romcom guy. He could use a little woo-ing too, you know. Someone who makes him feel like he’s worth fighting for. A big gesture! Not—not moving in or anything, but just—you see what I’m saying here?”

Buck stares at young John Cusack paused on his TV screen and smiles to himself. “Yeah, I think I might.”

He spends the rest of the day off his couch driving through half the pawn shops in Glendale before he finds himself, sun setting at his back, outside Tommy’s house. He parks between Tommy’s truck in the drive and walks down the sidewalk where Tommy’s kitchen window is lit up and open.

Tommy comes outside thirty seconds later to the sound of Peter Gabriel blasting out of the second hand stereo Buck’d finally found with an aux input at St. Vincent de Paul’s. His mouth twitches as he crosses his arms before he coughs and tucks his head down, briefly.

“Really?” He asks when he blinks back up at Buck, eyes wet like the last time Buck saw him: hope there, fleeting, wanting so badly to swim to the surface and stay. “Wait, did you plug your phone into that thing?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, loud enough over the music the whole neighborhood can probably hear him. “I don’t know how to burn CDs.”

Tommy’s smile finally cracks through, and he nods before taking several careful steps across his dead lawn, feet bare, so he can get two tentative hands on Buck’s hips. “Well, if you want to come inside,” he says, “I can show you.”

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Medical Emergency

Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fe!Reader -> When Jake gets a call asking to pick you up from the hospital, it's safe to say he's confused. Especially considering neither of you were known for getting along with the other.

Disclaimer: Enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, descriptions of being ill (nothing fully specified, just fainting a lot, low blood sugar and hormones), swearing, fluff, steamy moments, he takes care of you. This has been in my w.i.p for a while now so it's kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

It was safe to say Jake was confused to find out he was your emergency contact. 

It was known to most people in the town that you and Jake weren’t exactly the best of friends. The hatred started all back when he was brought into Top Gun the first time round. Before he suddenly became the best, of the best of the best. And each year he came back, it only got worse. 

Neither of you would be surprised if everyone in San Diego knew about how much you and Jake didn’t get along. 

So, yeah. Getting a call from a Nurse called Emma telling him he needed to come and pick you up from the hospital…he was confused. 

He’d spent most of the day training the new recruits at Top Gun. He was on base when he got the call, but twenty minutes later, he was parked outside the hospital and was being shown to your room. 

“She’s to take two of these every six hours for the next three days. If she has any drastic changes; dizziness, nausea, vomiting, etc. Bring her back. But she should be okay.”

He hadn’t even been told what had happened. 

Then he saw you. 

On a typical day, your hair was either up or down. You typically wore bright colours since the kids in your class like to point them out and name them. And even at the end of the week when you’d walk into the Hard Deck, Penny already having your drink waiting for you, and you’d look tired and ready to go to bed, you were still…bright. Put together. 

But from where he was standing, you were dressed in grey sweats and a Top-Gun hoodie. Most likely, you thought it was your brother’s. But from the worn hole around the edge of it let Jake know it was his. One your brother had never returned to him. 

You looked…like you needed to be comforted. 

Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of your skull. Any hints of make-up had been long washed away. Your nail polish was chipped, if not already peeled from your nails. 

Finally slipping your shoes on, you stood slowly. You looked like you needed to sleep for a year, and maybe take another nap for eight months. 

“Just sign here and here and then you’re free to go.”

Jake watched as the nurse’s words just about registered in your ears before you slowly picked the pen up from her hand and signed your name at the bottom of the paper. 

Reaching to grab the rest of your stuff, Jake almost swooped forwards. “I’ve got it.”

You just nodded. “Thanks.”

Any other day, you would have told him you could do it yourself and tell him to fuck off. 

He picked up your overnight bag and, with a hand at the bottom of your back, led you out of the hospital. 

“This way.”

You followed him back to his car and once he knew you were safe inside the passenger seat, he rounded the car and got into his seat. 

“I did tell them just to call me a cab. You can just drop me off down the road. You don’t need to-”

“I’m not letting you walk home.” He told you. “What’s your address?”

Part of Jake wished you’d fight him more about walking home. At least that way he’d know you were actually okay. He still would have driven you home, but…he wanted you back. 

Typing your address into his phone, he followed the sat-nav. 

By the time he pulled up outside your house, you were asleep. He waited for five minutes, letting you sleep whilst he researched and read the prescription you’d been given. 

Then he looked up at your house. You had to have a spare key. 

Carefully, he left his car and walked up your path. He looked in all the typical places until he found a small patch of wood from your porch coming loose. Inside was your key. 

So, opening your door and carrying your things inside, he came back for you. 

Unbuckling your seatbelt, he placed one of your arms around his neck before placing his own arms around your back and under your legs. 

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

And you did. 

Shutting the door to his car with his back, he carried you into your house, shutting your front door with his foot before taking you into your bedroom and laying you on top of your sheets. Looking around, he found a basket of blankets just under your window. 

However, as he covered you up, he checked your temp with the back of his hand. You seemed okay. 

Then you reached for him. 

It was only for a few seconds, but you held his hand before your body fell back to sleep. 

Before he left your room, Jake got you a glass of water and left your window on a latch. And then he stayed. 

Kicking off his boots by the door, he locked everything up around your home before laying down on top of the guest bed with a million and one questions circling around his head. 

Why was he your emergency contact? What had happened? Why didn’t anyone else tell him you were in the hospital for, clearly, more than a couple of hours? 

You spent the next two days in and out of consciousness. The hospital told Jake not to worry and that it was a good sign you were sleeping. He’d wake you every couple of hours and give you your tablets. 

And each time, you’d wake up with the same confusion of how and why he was in your house. And then you’d remember. And apologise. And thank him. Before he’d tell you to lay back down and get some rest. 

By the time you came round, you woke up to texts pinging on your phone. 

How could you not tell me you were dating someone?

We SERIOUSLY need to catch up about this when you’re back in. 

Your boyfriend called the school. Why is this how I’m finding out you’re sick?

Get better soon, honey xoxo

Also, don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got your class covered. 

One of your fellow-teacher best friends. You and her had joined the school as teachers in the same year. She had been away on a cruise for the last two weeks. 

Slowly, everything that had happened over the last two days came flooding back to you. They had called Jake. He had come to get you at the hospital. He kept waking you up. Had he stayed that whole time? Was he the one to call your school?

Pulling yourself from your bed and heading to the bathroom, you caught a look of yourself in the mirror. You looked…rough. And also the exact same as you had when you’d left the hospital. Maybe there was a little more colour in your cheeks. 

And you did feel better. 

The room felt still and you didn’t feel like throwing up all your insides out, despite being unable to do so. 

Drying your hands on the towel, you made your way through your home. Things were…tidy. Militarily so. The last time your place, although tidy, had looked militarily tidy had been when your brother had visited you before he got deployed again. 

So, either, he was here now. Jake was still here. Or you had a ghost haunting your house that just so happened to be in the Navy. 

Walking down the stairs, you found a pair of boots at the bottom of your stairs. They definitely weren’t yours. 

Then you heard someone in the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread and chicken noodle soup wafted through your home. 

It was a minute or two before Jake spotted you. It felt like a fever dream, watching him in your kitchen, dressed normally, a towel slung over his shoulder as he slid the bread buns from the tray to a cooling rack. 

“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”

You nodded. “Did you cook?”

“How are you feeling?” Jake made his way over to you, his hand coming to touch your forehead and cheeks. You swatted his hands away. You could have sworn you saw him smile after you did it. 

“Get off me, I’m fine.”

Jake smiled as he watched you make your way to sit down on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You looked way better than you had done when he saw you in the hospital. 

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday.” He told you, continuing to slide all but one of the bread buns onto the cooling back. The final one, he dropped onto a plate before dishing out a bowl of the soup. 

“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”

You looked at the food in front of you. “You made this?”

“I made it.”

You looked at him sceptically. “Is this how you plan to kill me? She was weak, your honour. I just wanted to help her.”

“Why would I take care of you for three days and then kill you? It’d be easier if I did it in three days.”

“So you did think about it.”

Jake rolled his eyes and handed you a fork. “Just eat.”

You couldn’t lie, it was one of the best meal’s you’d had in a long time. And as you ate, you looked around your home. Your books had been tidied away and back onto your shelves. All except two. One you were part way through reading and one that was…almost finished. But not by you. 

You didn’t notice as Jake watched you take everything in. Your books, your pots of pens. You dish towels, your spices and other baking ingredients. Some had even been put into the jars you had been meaning to fill back up. Then you noticed the smaller things. Like how he’d put up the wooden signs in your kitchen you’d been planning to do for months, and how he’d cleaned…everything. 

It looked like he’d done a complete renovation of your place whilst you’d been knocked out. 

Then you noticed the pile of papers on your kitchen counter. 

The English and maths tests you’d given to your class a few weeks ago. You hadn’t finished marking them. 

But Jake had. 

You took the top paper and looked it over. 

“Did you mark these?” You flipped through the pages. Not only were they marked, but they were marked correctly. They even had a sticker on each of “well done” or “great stuff”. 

You heard Jake chuckle. “I am a teacher, too, you know.”

“You’re a…Top Gun instructor. Not a third-grade teacher.”

“I do suppose I am over qualified to help but-”

You shook your head. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so insulting.

“No, I-I mean, thank you. But you didn’t have to do this. Any of this.” You gestured around your home. “You already did enough bringing me home.”

“I wanted to ask you about that. Why was it me that brought you home? Surely you have people who you actually like, to be your emergency contact?”

Tyler watched as you fell silent and searched for the words to tell him. 

“You’re…not.” Taking a breath, you looked up at him. “They…they tried a couple of people. They couldn’t make it. One of the nurses knows Penny so called and asked if she had anyone’s number who I knew. I did try and tell them to just call me a cab.”

He let your words settle over him. 

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who else did you call? Who didn’t pick up?”

You listed them off. Most were people in your family and a couple of friends. 

“I would have fought them on it but-”

“I’m glad you called me.” Jake admitted you. And it struck you. “Give me your phone.”

You slid it over to him. And he called his number from your phone. 

“If anything like that happens again, I want you to call me.”

“Jake-”

He shook his head. “You’re not fighting me on this. Fight me on everything else. Anything else. But not this. Call me.”

So you just nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. And eat up, too.”

You did. “You say that as if we’ve got some place to be.”

“We do.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

Twenty minutes later he practically shoved you into your bathroom en-suit telling you to shower and get changed. 

“I thought my nurse was meant to be kind.”

“I am kind!” He said. “And I’m not a nurse. And I’m a friend.”

You laughed a little at that one. 

“I’ve seen the inside of your junk drawer. I’m your friend. I have to be, or else I don’t have a word for it.”

He did have a point on that. Your junk drawer…even you hadn’t seen the inside of that thing in at least a year. 

So, after getting dressed, taking the last of your antibiotic and forcing some kind of health smoothie Hangman had made you with the blender he found at the back of your cupboard, you found yourself back in the passenger seat of his car. 

“Where are we going?”

He said nothing, just smiled and pulled the aviators from his collar and put them on before starting his engine and for a moment you wondered if that was what he did when he got into his jet. Flash his million-dollar smile before starting his jet engine and taking off into the sky. For a moment you wondered what it would be like to watch him land and look over at you just like he did. 

But then you forced yourself back to reality. 

This was Jake Seresin, aka Hangman. Given that name because he hangs his team out to dry. 

But he didn’t leave you. 

In fact, he was the only one to show up. 

And the first to stay. 

You read the road signs as best as you could until you realised where he was taking you. 

“You know there is a beach like ten minutes from my house.”

He nodded. “I know. But you’re there all the time. You’ve seen that patch a thousand times. This is different.”

“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe. But they always say the beach can work a thousand miracles. Come on.”

It was a five minute walk to the bottom. 

“Is it usually this empty?”

He looked around. “There’s usually a couple more people, but yeah. This is usually it. Not many people drive this far down. They think it’s not the best but to me…couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Huh.”

“What?” Jake asked, looking at you. 

You continued looking out to the water. You shook your head. “No, nothing. Just…never thought you’d be the sentimental type.”

“Well…I’m not.” 

You looked at him. 

“To most people.”

It was at that moment you felt a small crackle. Either in your chest or your gut, something crackled. And you felt the blanket of hatred you had for Jake Seresin start to fade. 

His call sign might be ‘Hangman’, but you had a strong feeling that when it came to those he cared about…he tried his best to stick around. And even if he couldn’t, he’d make a memory of them to last a lifetime. 

 For the rest of the day, you spent most of your time lying on the beach watching the waves or reading your book, which he had packed. And it was…one of the best days you’d had in a long time. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?” Moving the book from his face, Jake looked at you from beneath his shades as you lay on your stomach beside him. 

“This? Less than a week ago I’m pretty sure people would have made money on you and I killing each other. Why are you helping me?”

“Because you need it. And I’m pretty sure anyone else would believe you when you say that you don’t.”

“And you don’t believe me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean you know me?”

You watched as he smiled and tried to kill the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Y/n.”

You were still getting used to the fact he was using your first name. Usually it was your last, or some sweet nickname like ‘Sweetheart’ that would grate through your entire body. 

“You spend most of your time making sure everyone feels okay and is doing okay. The only time you actually let your feelings know is when you’re taking shit to me. You deserve a break. You deserve to take one before your body forces you to have one.”

Hearing his words as he spoke, you slowly sat up until your back was to the water and you were fully facing him. 

“Plus, your brother asked me to look out for you. And I’d rather not suffer his wrath again.”

Okay, that had to be complete bull. Your brother’s wrath when it came to protecting you, that was true. But why ask Jake of all people given he knew your history and track record with him. 

And what did he mean by again?

You barely had time to ask all of your questions before you watched him stand up, throwing his book closed to the ground. You mentally scolded yourself for letting your eyes wander all over him. 

You weren’t blind to the fact Hangman looked, well, like him. A daring smile, enough charm to charm even the most sourest of people and the body to go with it. But before today, you had been immune. At least, you considered yourself immune since the blanket of hatred that you held for him seemed to block plenty out. 

Worst of all, he caught you. 

You knew he caught you because of the smirk on his face and the chuckle that escaped his broad chest. 

“Shut up.” You groaned, forcing yourself to stand. “I’ve been in the hospital. My immune system is temporarily weakened.”

“It isn’t the first time I’ve caught you, Sweetheart.” Seresin drawled just as you looked at him both annoyed and confused. And maybe slightly offended that he thought you had, before today, purposefully checked him out. 

But he just laughed. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

“But what about our stuff?”

“It’ll be safe. I know most of the people on this beach, they’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”

Taking your hand in his, he led you down the beach, under a small cove and through to the otherside where some rocks were covered in seaweed and sand. 

And for a while, you and Jake explored the place. You’d never been this far down the beach so finding out it existed was a bonus. Finding seaweed to pop and watching the crabs crawl across some of the rocks was fun. 

You’d never stop to take a break. Straight out of college, you’d begun teaching. It had been in your home town until your brother got accepted into Top Gun. And, with an internalised fear of losing him, you moved out to San Diego. You knew after a while he’d be stationed somewhere else, but you’d managed to find a home there. And when your brother was stationed not too far from his Top Gun base, the rest of your family moved closer. 

Since then, it has been helping them get settled, tutoring their children after spending all day teaching. It was sleepless nights spent alone at home, living off the quickest food you could make because you simply didn’t have time to cook. It was running yourself so far into the ground that the one person who you never thought would even step foot into your home was the only one to show up and give you enough space to actually relax. 

So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun. 

And hearing your name, and calling out his name above the waves, without hatred or malice behind it, was fun, too. 

“Come and look at this.”

Carefully, you made your way over the rocks, trying your best not to slip and hit your head. And you did so, until the last rock before you joined him. 

Letting out a small yell as you reached out to try and catch yourself, he threw out his hand and caught you. 

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Can you stand?”

You lowered yourself to a lower rock, still holding onto his arms before letting go and allowing yourself to take his hand and help you up the rest of the way. 

“What am I looking at?”

It was a starfish. 

The rest of the day, you and Jake explored the shore, skipped rocks on the calming water, sunbathed and even took a swim in the water. 

By the time the sun had set, you found yourself sitting with him on the hood of his car, a pizza box between you both, watching the planes fly from the airport. 

A week ago, if anyone had told you that you would have done any of this, especially with Hangman, you would never have believed them. 

“Thank you, for your help.” You blurted out as you watched another plane fly into the sky. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do.” You wanted him to listen to you. “Given our track record for being nice to each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t turn up at the hospital to bring me home. But you did. And you made sure I didn’t fall into some kind of coma after it. And today you gave me the first day, I think, ever, where I’ve not done a thousand things for somebody else and enjoyed what I was doing. So, I do need to thank you for that.”

“Are you saying…you…like me?”

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, but you tried to force it away. “Okay.”

“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”

“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him. 

Smiling, he took another slice of pizza. “You like me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You like me. I am now your friend. We are now friends.”

You shook your head, holding in a laugh. “Just shut up and eat your pizza.”

It was safe to say after that, that everyone was shocked at the dynamic between both you and Hangman. 

They had all gotten so used to the insults and borderline flirty comments you’d both sling each other's way, it had become like white noise. So, when it was gone and replaced with laughter and smiling, it gave everyone a terrified feeling. 

“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”

Penny shook her head as she poured another pint. With a smile, she nodded over to the other end of the bar. “They’re over there.”

Twenty minutes later, it had become like a social study for everyone in the bar to watch you and Jake. 

“Do you think they fucked? Got all that pent up energy out?”

Coyote shook his head. “No, he would have told me. How long have they been like this? Maybe they’ve been hypnotised into liking each other?”

Rooster shook his head. “The hypnotist left like three months ago. Maybe they’re…faking it. Do you think they heard us talking about them last week? About who would kill who first? Maybe they’re teaming up so nobody wins?”

Penny shook her head as she wiped down the bar. “Well, whatever it is, it’s a nice change. She looks a lot happier. They both do. Who knows, maybe next we’ll be holding a wedding here.”

“Not their wedding?” Rooster seemed shocked. “Penny, they were about three insults away from killing each other three weeks ago.”

“Love is blind, as they say.”

For the rest of the night, people watched you and Jake sat together. Seresin and Y/l/n. Hangman and Sweetheart. 

And then they watched as you walked home. 

Together. 

It was safe to say everyone was shocked to their core. For the first time ever, there had been a night where both you and Jake had not only been in the bar at the same time but had also sat together for the whole night, and not once killed each other. 

Verbally or otherwise. 

“You know, you’re not as big of a dick as I thought you were Seresin. Tonight was a nice change.”

“I have been known to be kind once in a while.”

“Keep this up, you might be fit to see another day.”

“So might you.” Jake replied as he watched you climb the steps of your front porch. “I meant what I said, about taking a break. You deserve one, Y/n.”

You took in what he said with a small nod before adding. “You know, it’s still freaking me out, you even know my first name.”

“If it helps, the nurse had to tell me.” He said. “Guess I’ve called you by your last name so much, I forgot your first.”

“Is that why you keep saying it? So you don’t forget?”

He shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You know, it is okay if you forget it once in a while.”

Jake smiled a little at that. “How could I forget the name of the woman who once dumped three shots of tabasco sauce into my drink?”

“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”

“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”

You unlocked your door. “I still plead not guilty.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Sure you’re okay on your own?”

You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have an early start in the morning?”

He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, Sweetheart.”

He waited for you to lock your doors before he got into his car and drove back home. 

The following weeks continued the same way. If anybody who was anybody saw you and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin together, in the same room, talking. They would stop and watch. 

Never in a million years did anyone expect you and Jake to talk, never mind actually become friends. 

Each Friday, you met each other at the bar. You both have a drink. You’d both sit and talk. Maybe some of your old ways were still there with each other, but there was less “25 to life” about it and more “affection” in the words you both said. 

However, it nearly gave people an aneurysm when they thought you were both actually dating. 

Two people who were thirty seconds away from physically fighting each other every day had gone from, well, that, to…to…to dating?

It couldn’t be…could it?

And the rumours that had been spread by one of the bar regulars, after she’d spotted both of you grocery shopping together before spotting Jake’s car leave from the top of your road hours later, were only fueled when they heard about what happened at the school. 

It had been months since you fainted and you had been getting better. You felt better, you felt like you had more energy. And with Jake’s help you started to feel like a person again. A person who wasn’t wholly consumed by their work constantly, whether they were ten miles from the building or not. 

Except, one morning, you woke up and felt…off. 

Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe your period was coming early. It has been doing that lately. Surprising you when you least expected or wanted it. 

Just a few weeks ago, it had arrived early once again. And the pain you’d felt in the days before nearly floored you. And when you hadn’t showed up at the bar like you’d agreed to with Jake, he came looking for you. That night he’d taken a quick trip to the grocery store after you told him what happened. He looked after you. Made sure you were okay. The next day, he drove you back to the store and you stocked up on supplies and snacks. 

It was also later that night when he surprised you by making dinner. 

Opening up your fridge, you took one of the healthy smoothies that Jake had left you the last time he’d come round, before packing it into your bag and heading to work. 

Your queasy feelings only got worse. And then…you felt it. 

Sticking on a documentary for your class, you took your phone and slowly made your way towards the teachers bathroom, stopping off at the next class. 

“Can you keep an eye on them for a couple of minutes?” 

Your best friend nodded. “Course’ honey.” Before asking her TA to go next door. 

“You okay?”

You tried your best to look okay, despite everything you were feeling inside. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”

As the TA headed next door, you made your way towards the bathroom, then dialled his number. 

“Hey,” Jake said as he answered. “Just about to call you. They’ve got a showing of The Wizard of Oz tonight at the theatre, if you wanted to go-”

“Jake.”

“Are you okay? What’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it your brother-”

“Every…” You swallowed thickly before carefully lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the wall, and unlocking the door. “Everything’s okay, it’s just…”

Jake had a strong feeling he knew what was happening. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”

“Okay.” You could hear him leaving his office and getting into his car. “Is the door unlocked?”

You didn’t answer. 

“Y/n.”

“I’m here.”

Jake breathed. “Y/n, Sweetheart. Is the door unlocked to the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Does anyone else know you’re there?”

You explained what happened as best as you could. 

“Just, please get here soon?”

“I will, Sweetheart. I promise. I’m almost there.”

You didn’t know how long had passed but it wasn’t long before you heard your name being called out by Jake. 

Pulling the door open a little from the floor, Jake ran towards it and peeked inside. There you were, sat with your knees close to your chest, against the wall. 

He stepped inside before crouching down. 

“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”

Checking you over, Jake cupped your face. “Hey, no. No. I’m glad you called me. You can always call me. How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy. It’s better now but still like the room is spinning. And I’m not harnessed in.”

“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”

You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”

Helping you up, Jake took your hands in his and you stood up. 

“Come on, we’re getting you checked out at the ER.”

You would have fought him on it but considering the last time it happened they kept you in overnight, you went willingly. 

Thankfully, you didn’t pass out even when the dizziness and the nausea felt like they were getting worse. 

By the time the doctor saw you, she did all of the routine checks before turning and looking at Jake and back to you. 

“Is there a possibility you could be pregnant? I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here with similar symptoms and-”

Oh shit. 

“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”

“We’re- We’re not together.”

A few more awkward moments like that filled the next couple of hours until both yourself and Jake seemed to give up on correcting people. 

By the time they discharged you, they told you your blood sugar levels had dropped and your hormones were beginning to change with your cycle. Along with the advice to try and reduce stress. 

Driving you home that night, Jake made a detour. Towards the diner and then towards the beach along The Hard Deck. 

It was quiet for a Tuesday evening, but yourself and Jake just sat and ate dinner whilst watching the water push in and pull out constantly across the sand until eventually, laying your head on his shoulder, he placed his arm around your own. 

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

“Thank you for calling me. Are you feeling any better?”

You nodded, gratefully. “Just a little tired, that's all.”

“I’ll drop you off at home, soon, if you’d like.”

You nodded then looked at him. And before you could stop yourself, you asked him; “Would you stay with me? Tonight? If you can’t- or if you don’t want to-”

“I’ll stay.”

“A-are you…sure?”

Jake nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll stay with you.”

You didn’t know what else to say other than thank you, so pressing a light kiss to his cheek, you said as much. “Thank you.”

You could have sworn you saw him blush as he smiled and looked down. “Anytime.”

It was odd really, laying beside the man you thought you’d be telling your kids about when you were older. About how much you hated him and how much he hated you, and why neither of you could sit next to each other at the Thanksgiving table every year. 

Jake had decided to stay in your guest bedroom, but the minute you heard him lay down in his bed, you felt…awake. Not wide awake. You were still tired. But you weren’t settled. Something inside of you wanted to be closer to him. 

So, after an hour of laying on your back, staring at your ceiling and listening to the distant shore line, with the odd rumble of a car’s engine running up and down the road every now and again, you got up. 

Jake had left his door open. If you shouted for him, or needed him, he would be able to hear you. Usually, he’d be out like a light, waking up at the smallest of noises. But this time, he couldn’t sleep. 

Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom. 

Then he heard you. 

From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you. 

“Hey, everything-”

“Can I stay with you?”

Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”

Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side. 

Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him. 

“Is this okay?”

He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed. 

“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”

In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”

Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other. 

“Good.”

Not too long after that, you both fell asleep. 

And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move. 

If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning. 

And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him. 

“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you…like me.”

Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”

“Jake.”

Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you. 

“Do you trust me?”

You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it. 

“Yes.”

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”

He seemed nervous. 

“Can I kiss you?”

If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl. 

But no. 

He asked. 

And something in your gut jumped. 

So you answered; “Yes.”

Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life. 

You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together. 

Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight. 

No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said. 

Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm. 

“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work. 

“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”

Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm. 

“I’ll meet you here, after work?”

That made you smile. “Okay.”

Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed. 

“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”

With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle. 

“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”

One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him. 

Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags. 

He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head. 

“See you tonight?”

“See you tonight.”

The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you. 

And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 

You smiled. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“You’re back.”

You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”

“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”

He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”

“I know, but I needed the distraction.”

Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day. 

“Distraction from what?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Nothing, huh?”

At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck. 

“Jake.”

The way you said his name went straight to his dick. 

As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”

Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him. 

“Have you been thinking about me?”

Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”

“Yes,” your voice came out breathy. 

“Is this okay?”

You nodded. 

“I need words, darlin’.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”

As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him. 

And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion. 

You didn’t hate him anymore. 

You hadn’t hated him for a long time. 

All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water. 

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo- 

The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so. 

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for. 

And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t. 

Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you. 

And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long. 

By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. 

Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest. 

“Good morning.”

“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”

“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”

With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off. 

“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”

He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”

Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite. 

“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”

“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck. 

Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so. 

You laughed. “No it’s not.”

He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”

“How do you know this is yours?”

With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”

Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie. 

A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before. 

J.H.S

“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”

And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”

“Jake…”

“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”

“I want to date you.”

He looked up at you. 

“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”

“I want you around, too.”

“So, yes.”

Jake smiled. “Yes?”

You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”

Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. 

It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked. 

And lost a lot of money. 

But Penny won it all. 

She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.

[smarteoasis]

❀ new things - nishimura riki

warnings : pussy eating, cussing, inexperienced riki, over stimulation

wc : 914

“i've never eaten out a girl before.” as those words leave your best friends mouth, you stiffle a laugh. “seriously? how's that possible?” you don't believe him, since he's had many girlfriends before.

“im serious! don't laugh at me..” he pouts, glaring at you from embarrassment. “well, why are you telling me?” you rub your eyes in disbelief, questioning him.

“uh.. i was kinda hoping you could teach me.” now this time you don't hold in that laugh. slapping your hand over your mouth, you sit up straight as you notice the pouty look on his face. “wait, actually? you want me to teach you how to eat pussy?”

he nods, mumbling “yea.. was hoping i could try it on you or somethinh..”

your eyes widen, each word making you more shocked, confused and wet. even though it sounds crazy weird, you shrug, sighing. “okay, fine. whatever. i can teach you.” he looks up eyes wide and cheeks red.

“really..? thank you. i just.. don't wanna embarrass myself if i ever have to eat a girl out.. ya know.” you nod, running a hand through your hair. “got it. go wash your hands first though.”

he obeys, running to your bathroom as you take your shorts and panties off on the bed.

when he comes back, his eyes widen as he sees you laying down, legs spread and cunt dripping.

you roll your eyes, “just get over here. ” he stutters, crossing his arms. “i,. didn't think we'd get into this so quickly.”

you shush him, motioning him to get between your legs. riki nods, laying on his stomach and taking ahold of your soft thighs, eyes glued to your pussy.

“do i start.. with the clit? or.. or the hole?” he looks up, his cheeks tinted pink. “doesn't matter. just, use your tongue on both, switch it up.” he nods, taking his wet tongue out and slowly nudging your clit with it. you take a deep breath, the stimulation already good.

he gives kitty licks to the nub before wrapping his lips around it, sucking softly. you gasp, gripping his hair. “like that.. good.” he nods, happy with his progress as he sucks on the clit more harshly.

you cuss under your breath, moaning quietly. “down there too..” riki quickly moves his tongue down to your sopping wet hole, licking it. “like that.. put your tongue in.” he obliges, sticking his tongue inside hesitantly as he rubs your clit with his thumb.

the double stimulation makes your toes curl, wrapping your thighs around his head and squeezing him in place. “s-so good..”

riki hums, the vibration going straight to your core. he sucks on your clit, prodding his midle finger at your gushing hole. you moan his name, already feeling an orgasm coming, the whole situation turning you on. riki looks up at you, wanting you to feel good and wanting to learn.

he pulls away from your clit for a second, chin glistening with your juices. “am.. am i doing okay?” you nod, tugging his head back down to continue.

riki doesn't complain, sucking on your clit and softly sticking a finger into your hole. he moans against you, your warm walls engulfing his long finger. he pumps it in and out slowly, curling it at the spongy spot that he heard feels good.

“shit.. im so close, don't stop.” riki nods, adding a second finger inside as his tongue continues working on your puffy clit.

he curls his fingers, forcing them deep inside to feel all your good spots. unexpectedly, he sticks his tongue inside with his fingers, making you cum quickly.

“cumming!” you announce, your thighs squeezing around his head as he doesn't stop, riding out your orgasm. after a couple of seconds of you panting, you look down at him.

“mm.. enough now.” he doesn't pull away, lapping away at your cunt as his fingers slam inside you. you yelp at the over stimulation, squirming on the bed.

riki is too pussy drunk to care, slurping your cum away like he hasn't had a meal in a good while. he pulls his fingers out, pinching your clit and receiving a squeal from you.

he digs his tongue deeper into your cunt, eating you out like a starved man. you notice how his hips rut against the mattress, a bulge forming in his tight boxers, hidden away in his grey sweats.

you feel another orgasm coming, groaning in pleasure and pain. “fuck.. im gonna cum again.” he hums happily, looking up at you and making eye contact as he sucks on your clit.

the visual makes you squirt on his tongue, your cum dripping down his nose, lips and chin. you moan loudly, shaking more than before.

riki licks your release up, kissing your clit softly. you force his head away, not able to take three sudden orgasms. “too much..” you pant, closing your legs. he sits up, looking at you with wide eyes, your cum shiny on his mouth.

“was i good?” he asks, hoping to receive praise.

you sigh, patting his head. "yeah yeah, clean yourself up." he wipes his chin and lays down next to you. “that was fun.” you sigh, humming in agreement and tiredness.

“i need a nap. you're crazy.” he snickers, watching you fall asleep. as you drift off, riki asks.

“can you teach me how to have sex next time?”

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (9) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: sorry this update took forever !!! enj <3

//

there are no words that can describe how incredibly awkward you feel when you wake up.

last night—after you and yoongi crossed that unspoken line and messed around—you two ended up tangled together.

it’s strange because in between soft touches and sleepy murmurs—you actually got to know him in ways you never expected.

you recall it all.

his quiet voice filling the spaces between the darkness and your hushed breathing so you could hear every tone, every word, and every breath of his crystal clear. 

yoongi told you stories and confessions that slipped out between shallow breaths. childish yet meaningful things he probably didn’t even realize he was saying.

you remember him murmuring about the way his mom used to hold his hand when he couldn’t fall asleep as a kid, or how he swore he’d never own a fish again because when he was 11 years old... he had 14 goldfishes and they all died one by one 2 weeks later.

he swears it wasn't his fault.

you tell him you believe him.

(you really do.)

he also talks about his quiet love for early mornings, how at peace he feels when he’s the only one awake in a still-sleeping world. in that half-dazed vulnerability, yoongi let you in. 

just enough for you to see a side of him you hadn’t expected, a part that was softer, quieter, more open.

then, you two talked about baby injeolmi.

how you two don't really care about the gender and just want a healthy baby. so much so that you both agreed to not know the gender and to just be surprised on the day of. oh, and how you do want a baby shower and think hye mi is already plotting that...

then, you two talked about the moving in thing again.

that's when you pretended to go to sleep and actually fell asleep. yoongi only laughed at you, fully knowing that you're just nervous. you're moving in one way or another.

he knows it.

you know it...

but aside from the way the talk ended; it went well.

no, the talk wasn’t everything…

but it was something. 

now, with the morning light filtering through the blinds, reality started to seep back in.

the familiar awkwardness of two people who shared more than they’d planned. you can feel his warmth beside you, his hand still loosely draped over your waist, and a twinge of nervousness fluttered in your stomach.

you glance at him, expecting him to be asleep. but then, his eyes blinked open, groggy but sharp enough to catch the slight flush in your cheeks. 

still half-asleep, his voice rough as he mumbles, “hi…”

for a second, neither of you move, as if lingering in that quiet, unguarded space between sleep and reality. suddenly aware of the intimacy, he clears his throat, his gaze softening but pulling back just a bit.

you offer him a shy smile, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you.

“a-about last night…”

he chuckles softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “yeah… last night…”

then, he pauses to gather his words.

“wait, are you talking about me yapping or me sucking your tits?”

none. you’re talking about pretending to fall asleep regardless, your shy smile breaks as you burst into laughter. he joins your laughter and sighs. 

“i mean, are we gonna talk about any of it or is acknowledging it good enough for now? i don’t know if i’m awake enough for the conversation but i will be if you want to—”

“all good,” you assure him. “i don’t know where i was going with any of it. i guess i just wanted… to know if you—”

“i liked it,” he tells you, not digging any deeper. “you getting to know me, me sucking your tits—all of it.”

as promised, yoongi takes you to the baby store. 

your eyes light up the minute you step foot in it. it’s then that yoongi remembers exactly who he’s having this baby with. 

you and your fucking babyfever. 

the baby store is a mix of pastel colors, tiny clothes, and gentle lullabies playing over the speakers. yoongi trails behind you as you wander through the aisles. one hand resting on the cart as he pushes it along, his eyes constantly flicking to you with a quiet, thoughtful focus.

though you two are pretty good at communicating—the whole physical affection part? that’s still a little wonky. for instance, every time you pause to examine something, yoongi is right there, his hand slipping gently around your waist to guide you to the next aisle or just to linger beside you. it’s so subtle that, at first, you think it’s an accident, a reflex. 

but then it keeps happening.

at first, it throws you off—his casual closeness.

the way he stays so near, like a shadow. you’re not used to this kind of attention from him.. this quiet and steady affection. but strangely enough, you find that you don’t mind it. in fact, there’s something comforting about the way he stays close, attentive to your every move.

when you stop to touch a soft little onesie covered in tiny clouds, yoongi doesn’t even hesitate. he reaches over, gently taking it from your hands and adding it to the cart without a word. 

you shoot him a questioning look, but he only shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips as if to say, whatever you want.

“yoongi, you know you don’t have to buy everything i touch, right?” you remind him, glancing at the growing pile in the cart.

yoongi just chuckles, unbothered, and places his hand on your waist again as you reach the aisle full of toys. his touch is warm and grounding, making it hard to argue with him.

“you’re not carrying any of it home, so relax,” he says with a smile that’s both charming and final. “i like this shit too. they’re cute or whatever—”

then, your fingertips brush as you both reach for a soft, star-patterned onesie. he lets go first, letting you hold onto the onesie.

“this one’s cute,” you say softly, running your thumb along the fabric. then, you bite back a small smile when you realizes yoongi hasn’t moved his hand from your waist.

“yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. his voice is softer than usual, but before you can read into it, he takes the onesie and tosses it into the cart. then he grabs a few more items without asking you, each time ignoring your attempts to peek at the price tags.

“yoongi..."

"what?"

"are you serious?"

he looks at you blankly. "don't we need these things?"

you nod but give him a stern look. "yeah, but we can't buy out the whole store."

"why not?"

"first of all, that's insane... and second of all—a-are you just—"

you reach for a soft, stuffed rabbit, just curious to feel it, and—predictably��he plucks it right out of your hands, tossing it into the cart.

"you are."

"i'm what?"

"seriously?" you huff, barely holding back a grin. “you’re not even letting me decide if i want it. you're tossing it in just because i touched it.”

he remains unbothered by your protests. 

“what if i just think you have good taste?” he says, glancing at you with a hint of mischief. 

and with that, he gives you a gentle nudge, guiding you further down the aisle with that warm hand still resting at your side.

“are you saying that just to flatter yourself?”

“what do i have to do with this?”

“well, you’re my type and my babydaddy—”

“i’m your type?” yoongi tilts his head at you. "good to know..."

you blush, eyes wide from embarrassment. before you can make up some excuse to save face, he leans in and playfully pinches your waist.

“you're my type too, mama.”

you clear your throat and redirect the conversation.

"s-should we pick a crib?"

yoongi gestures his hand for you to lead the way.

as you begin to walk, you turn your head and send him a glare.

"... and be serious about this part, okay? this is the crib we're picking out. read the packaging and make your judgement. i'm gonna end up choosing the prettiest one that might not function as well as the ugly one... so, can i trust your taste on this?"

yoongi nods, pushing the cart with a steady, unhurried pace, his hand resting casually on the handle.

“you can trust me,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

... and so, you do.

you trust him.

when you reach the checkout, you step forward to pay but—

yoongi slips right past you.

casually handing over his card to the cashier before you even get a chance. you cross your arms and narrow your eyes at him, watching as he signs the receipt, completely unbothered.

the total is easily above $3,000. 

he meets your gaze with a look that’s almost playful, his expression all wide-eyed innocence, as if he hadn’t just ignored your efforts.

"yoongi," you begin, voice firm. “we’re both injeolmi's parents, and it’s not fair for you to pay for everything. at least let me pay half—”

he doesn’t respond right away, just nods patiently, his attention focused on gathering the bags the cashier hands him. his face is calm, listening but clearly not swayed. he loads a big box containing the crib into the cart, then places the bags filled with tiny clothes, blankets, and toys right beside it, adjusting them carefully.

you press on, leaning slightly forward, hoping to get through to him.

“we’re both responsible here... i know i'm not a nurse practitioner like you, but it's not like i can’t contribute, you know—"

“i know.”

yoongi glances over his shoulder at you, his mouth quirking in the faintest smile as he stacks the last bag. he seems unbothered by your scolding, more amused than anything.

“this is my baby too and i feel uncomfortable letting you do this much—”

finally, he turns to you, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair back from your cheek in a gesture so casual it nearly makes you forget your own irritation. 

“do what? provide?”

you're tongue tied.

“all done? feel better, mama?” he asks, his tone light, but his eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “if not, go ahead. say what you want. say what you need to say. i’m listening.”

you let out a small huff, crossing your arms more tightly, trying to stay serious.

“you’re not paying for everything, yoongi.”

he raises one eyebrow, his expression softening but still unwavering. 

“i am. i did.” he shrugs, nonchalantly. it feels like he’s teasing you even though he isn’t. “___, i’m all done with this topic now. are you?”

“no, actually, i—” you start, feeling your frustration build.

“great,” he interrupts, his smile spreading into a grin that makes your heart skip. 

he reaches down, taking your hand in his, his grip gentle yet firm, and begins to guide you toward the exit, leaving you no room to protest. 

his thumb rubs lightly over your knuckles as he holds your hand, a grounding gesture that calms you, even as he completely ignores your point. 

“let’s go home,” he says softly, his voice warm, as though it’s the simplest decision in the world.

home.

following yoongi inside his condo, the familiar sight of his place tugging at something inside you. 

it’s been a while since you’ve been here. the memories of that night still linger like a quiet hum in the back of your mind, but you push them aside. 

focus on the present. 

focus on the baby.

he leads you through the hallways, and you try to ignore the way your pulse quickens as you walk past his bedroom. you know it’s silly—nothing’s changed here. but still, the weight of the space feels different, heavier now. maybe it’s because this time, you’re here for something else. 

this time, it’s about the baby.

and the fact that you’ll be moving in soon… fuck, your mind begins to spin.

then, yoongi stops in front of a door, his hand resting lightly on the handle. he opens it slowly, stepping aside to let you in. 

“this is the guest room,” he says, but you can tell he’s hesitating, like he’s waiting for your reaction. “soon to be baby injeolmi’s room…”

you step inside, your gaze instantly drawn to the empty space. it’s clean, quiet, the pale walls untouched by time or use. the sunlight pours in from the window, making the room feel warmer, but it’s still just a room. 

there’s nothing personal about it. 

nothing that belongs to anyone yet.

but you can already picture it—nursery furniture, soft colors, the quiet hum of a baby’s lullaby filling the air. you glance back at him, noting the careful expression on his face. he’s watching you, waiting for your approval. waiting for your thoughts, even if you’re not sure what to say. you wonder if he’s nervous too, if this feels as strange to him as it does to you.

for a moment, your mind drifts to that night—the night everything changed. 

the night you slept together. 

the night you felt something more than just friendship between you two. the way his touch felt, the way his lips lingered on yours, and how quickly it all faded into the awkward silence the next morning.

"i also made space for your things in my room. i'm not finished clearing out my all shit but i will be by next week. does that sound okay?"

"huh?" you blink. "n-next week?"

yoongi nods.

"i think i gave you enough time to think things over... and don't act like this is a surprise. i brought it up last night. you pretended to sleep."

your eyes widen.

"i—"

"move in with me next week," yoongi says. "... you can pretend to sleep mid conversation in my bed from now on."

by an hour and half in, you and yoongi have filled the space with scattered remnants of baby gear—boxes, parts of cribs, and the disassembled pieces of a changing table. they all lay haphazardly across the floor. 

it’s oddly comforting.

the clutter somehow feels like a soft reminder of the chaos and excitement that’s about to come.

yoongi is kneeling on the floor, tools in hand, as he begins to assemble the crib, the sound of metal and wood clicking together filling the otherwise quiet room.

you lean against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him work with a careful, focused precision. his brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched as he concentrates on each piece. his sleeves are rolled up, revealing forearms that make it hard to focus on anything else. you swallow, not bothering to hide the way your eyes drift to the muscle in his arms as he works.

and then, almost instinctively, he looks up at you, his gaze meeting yours as if he can feel your eyes on him.

“baby injeolmi’s clothes need to be washed,” he says, his voice low but firm, his hands already reaching for another tool. “you want to do this 50/50? fine. but i don’t want you getting hurt.”

you push off the doorframe, rolling your eyes as you walk toward him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

you’re not used to him treating you like you’re made of glass, but you get where he’s coming from. still, it doesn’t sit well with you.

“i’m pregnant but i’m not fragile,” you argue. “i can help you with the crib—“

he doesn’t budge, his jaw tightening as he focuses on the task at hand. 

“humor me then,” he says, his tone patient, but there’s an underlying edge of stubbornness that makes it clear this isn’t up for debate.

you’re about to argue further, but the way he’s working—so effortlessly, so damn focused—has you momentarily silent. the way his arms flex as he screws the pieces together, the tension in his shoulders, the occasional glance up to check in on you—it all just feels so... domestic, and so right in this moment.

you step back a little, your breath catching as you take in the scene. yoongi, with his sleeves pushed up, lost in his work, looks so different from the guy you met—still him, but somehow more.

more... grounded. more steady.

your gaze lingers, unable to pull away.

your cheeks heat, a strange flutter in your chest as you realize you’ve been staring too long. When Yoongi catches your eye, his expression unreadable for a split second, you scramble to regain your composure.

“i’ll, uh…” you quickly clear your throat, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. “i’ll get started on baby’s laundry. do you have clothes that need to be washed too? i can do a load—i mean… fuck—y-you know what? how about i make us some lunch first? yeah. i’ll do that.” you say, quickly backing away before your feelings get the best of you.

your steps are hurried as you leave the room, but you can still feel the heat in your face, the warmth of his gaze following you as you retreat.

yet, the image of him—focused, strong, and all yours—lingers, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you step into the kitchen.

in the kitchen, you decide to keep it simple yet comforting. 

something easy to share, nothing too fancy. you settle on making caprese chicken sandwiches with a side of fresh fruit and chips. 

you finish grilling the chicken and layer it on the toasted ciabatta. you add slices of fresh mozzarella, letting it melt slightly, then pile on thick tomato slices and fresh basil leaves. a drizzle of balsamic glaze finishes it off before you top it with the other half of the bread, pressing it together gently when yoongi walks in. 

without a word, he leans against the counter beside you, his presence as familiar as the scent of the meal. he doesn’t wait for you to finish; instead, he picks up a melon slice and takes a bite.

“can’t you wait two seconds?” you laugh, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

yoongi just grins, completely unbothered. he takes another bite.

“fruit always taste better when moms cut them,” he says, his voice teasing but laced with that quiet sincerity of his. “oh, should i say milf? or is that jungkook’s line?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

the way he stands there, so effortlessly himself, makes your chest tighten in a way you didn’t expect. he’s always been like this—comfortable, confident, and somehow, when he’s this close, it feels like everything else fades away.

as he pulls away, you notice a small smudge of melon juice on the corner of his lips. without thinking, you reach up to wipe it away, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. the movement feels natural, almost automatic, but something about the intimacy of it makes your heart flutter. you don’t hesitate, bringing your thumb to your mouth to clean it off.

“mhmm,” you moan. “tastes sweet.”

then, the moment freezes.

yoongi stares at you, eyes wide, as if he’s seeing you for the first time, like the simple action has somehow shifted everything. the air between you thickens, and suddenly, it feels like there’s more than just the space in the kitchen separating you.

you stand still, unsure of what to do next. 

your eyes lock, and in that second, something unspoken passes between you. it’s not just the closeness or the warmth of the kitchen—it’s a pull, an undeniable magnetism that makes your chest tighten and your breath catch.

yoongi’s gaze drops to your lips, and you can feel the tension, the quiet yearning between you both. his hand twitches slightly at his side, like he wants to reach for you, but he’s holding back, waiting for you to make the first move.

and just as you’re about to lean in, your belly gives a sudden flutter.

you gasp, your eyes widening in surprise, and instinctively, you reach for his hand, pressing it gently to your belly. 

“oh my god.”

“what?”

“yoongi… i think… here—”

you hold your breath, waiting, and then—

there it is again. 

a small, unmistakable kick.

yoongi’s eyes light up with awe, his fingers curling slightly around your hand as he feels it, a slow smile spreading across his face. he doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, his eyes fixed on your stomach, filled with wonder and something deeper that you can’t quite place.

you squeeze his hand, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you both.

“did you feel that?” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. 

yoongi looks up at you, his eyes softer now, holding something deeper than the simple wonder of the moment. 

the air around you two has shifted into something more intimate. then, his gaze flickers to your face, his heart fluttering in his chest as he steps a little closer, his thumb gently brushing over your hand.

… and as he looks into your eyes, his pulse quickens. 

it’s not just the baby’s kick he feels—it’s this quiet, undeniable pull between you two. his chest tightens with the weight of it, and for a moment; this is everything to him. 

everything.

he gulps as he soaks in your presence and sinks into the idea feeling of love beginning. then, slowly and then all at once; he accepts it. 

“yeah,” yoongi says, tone warm and ever so sure. “i feel it.”

as you look up to meet his eyes, yoongi’s lips tug into a smile. dipping his head low, he kisses you.

[inthedarkshadows000]

Thoughts at 3 am:

Dating suguru meant tolerating Satoru as his very whiny, half boyfriend.

Who, he had been unable to keep away after a few dates

"Suguru come on!!! I need to make sure she is good enough for us."

"Us? And no. You just want her to knows that she can't come between us, even though there is no us romantically. That's how you scared away the rest."

Who had actually told you exactly what Suguru said he would but instead of being weirded out, to his utter amazement, had just laughed and said "Don't worry, I'll just be the less pretty, side chic then, deal?"

Who had your name saved in his phone as Boyfriend Stealer. Yet dumped any of his flings/girls if they used it against you, even if it was kind of his fault for the misunderstanding.

Who would randomly put up infinity around Suguru right before you were about to jump him, because he is petty like that.

"Yes toru, I got you your favourite sweets. So if you could, please lemme hug our shared boyfriend after staying away from him for two, entire days. The two days that you spent with him on a mission. All alone."

"Oh! Why would you not begin with that, silly? Gimmme it."

Who would constantly rile you up only to expand his eyes dramatically and say, "Suguru!!!! Look at her!!! She is being to me!!! Will you really let her talk to your pretty partner like that!" All the while clinging onto his arm like a little damsel in distress.

"Satoru if you didn't want her to be mean to you then maybe you shouldn't have been pulling her hair like a kindergartener."

"You've changed Sugu, she has finally created a wedge between us!!!! I knew this would happen!!!! Why god why?! Why didn't you just make me ugly, if you really wanted to punish me? Why make me go through this?!"

Who would wiggle himself between the two of you during a walk, forcing you to stop leaning on his shoulder. Instead, you would wrap an arm around satoru's waist to reach over to your boyfriend's arm.

Who would whine for days after Suguru proposed to you, till you both got him a promise ring, to make sure he knew that he wouldn't be left alone, not to mention days of massive pampering because we were a few days late and it caused him emotional stress.

However, dating suguru also meant tolerating having satoru as your very sweet, half boyfriend.

Who kisses you on your forehead just as sweetly as Suguru does, on you you lips, before leaving for their mission.

"Well if you are Suguru's lucky charm, there's no way you aren't mine too." Was his logic.

Who puts up infinity around you when a guy starts becoming too chummy, while the two of you wait in a line for your orders and Suguru takes care of the table.

Who stood up to the elders when they bullied you for distracting the strongest because you simply existed.

Who would step in to take over any social situation because you needed a breather and Suguru to feel less overwhelmed but were too polite to leave.

Who would take turns with Suguru too nurse you back to health because both of them had missions and Suguru didn't want you alone.

Who had suddenly started relying on you to take care of him just as he had on Suguru, for so many years.

"Y/n..."

"Y/nnnnnnnnn......"

"Yes I do have your extra hair ties ru and no your shades aren't lost toru, you left them with megumi. You can use the extra pair I keep here for you."

So, although it was Suguru that you were in a relationship with, you realized that Satoru was a package deal. Not that you minded, afterall looking at them bickering like an old couple, it was obvious that there would be no Suguru to love without Satoru and no Satoru without Suguru.

You can't have YIN without it's YANG, can you?

[kkayyerr]

Mean! Rafe with pogue! Reader when she regresses like how is he? Is he gentle? Does he tease? Those kinds of things, thank you xx

I got you!

I loooove writing headcanons.🫶🏻

Warnings: Age regression, Dark!Rafe, controlling behavior, manipulation, slight abuse.

– He would probably first met you when you would visit his sister. He knew that you were one of the Pogues, but it wasn’t what he found interesting about you.

– Your behavior wasn’t usual for a Pogue. You were quiet, shy and somewhat childish. Somehow he didn’t found you as annoying as the rest of them, he enjoyed observing you quietly, analyzing your behavior.

– Rafe won’t admit his interest in you to anyone, especially not to his sister, always making snarky comments about you when talking to her.

– „What is she, a five year old?”

– He wouldn’t mind saying things like that to your face, laughing when you will give him a pouty face, that he would secretly find adorable.

– „What was that, little girl? Too sensitive to handle a small tease?"

– But when he would first saw you in the fight that his friends started with Pogues, he would push you to the side, holding you in his hands, so you won’t get hurt. He would find a lot of excuses about that later, when his friends would confront him about being soft to the Pogue.

– Rafe would probably give you a little smirks every time he would see you at his house or somewhere else.

– When he would find out that you are regressed, he would wait for the perfect opportunity to ask Sarah to babysit you for her, and when that opportunity will come, he would make sure that there’s only you and him in the house. He would also make sure that this would be the last time you were talking to Sarah.

– „You know, I’m not like your friends, kid. I actually care about your well-being.”

– He would play with your mind, making you actually believe everything he said.

– „Baby, you’re too precious to think about that Pogue’s shit. Just let me take care of you, alright?"

– Soon enough, the brave Pogue girl will become daddy’s little doll.

– „No one will take care of you better than I do, baby.”

– He would make sure that you are way too eager for his attention and affection to actually leave, or even think about going back to the Pogues.

– Rafe would teach you manners, watching as you slowly turn into the true Kook, because he would be damned if he would let his baby’s brain being stuffed with that Pogue’s bullshit.

– He would dress you himself, adoring your little pink outfits and small ribbons in your hair, that he would braid himself.

– Everytime you would ask to see your friends he would just change his manner to the cold one, and watching as you slowly forgetting about wanting to see them, now crying because of lack of affection.

– „I told you baby, I don’t want you around your friends no more, they are bad influence. Let’s just go to the Topper’s house, yeah?”

– You won’t say „no”, because you know that there will be consequences for you.

– He won’t be using physical punishments. He would just left you alone when you will need him the most, waiting for you to come begging for forgiveness, hoping for at least crumps of his love.

– His favorite words are „yes, Daddy”.

– Rafe wouldn’t hesitate beating the shit out of the Pogues right in front of your eyes, if they would try and talk to you.

– When you will start crying because of the shock he would just hold you close, being much gentler than he usually was.

– „Daddy just wanted to protect you, baby”.

– You would never question his actions, because „Daddy always knows better”.

– Always.

[creamflix]

❤︎ — choso kamo likes it in purple !

content warnings: established relationship. soft!dom reader, very submissive bottom choso. use of "squirting" strap-on, reader "cums" inside choso. slight corruption kink? he believes he's been bred. heavy feminization (choso is referred to as "girl," and having a "pussy.") breeding kink (?). prostate stimulation. lots of praising. begging, desperation. dirty talk. reader is implied to be wearing a strap-on but can be read as having a d1ck.

event masterlist ❤︎ general masterlist

as the words leave choso’s lips — so pure and hopeful you can’t even believe he’s serious — you freeze for a moment, unsure if he’s joking or genuinely believes this. there’s a sparkle of sincerity in his eyes, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks as he waits, breath held in anticipation.

“you know… men can’t actually… get bred, right?” you try, keeping your tone soft, not wanting to break his heart if this is news to him.

his brows knit together in confusion, eyes darting to yours. “they… they can’t?” the innocence in his voice nearly undoes you, the hopeful naivete in his words so raw, so sweet. “but… i thought… you could… you know, fill me up like that.”

you bite back a smile, his innocence wrapping around you like a soft blanket, tugging at your protective side. “welll, there’s another way to do something close to that,” you say, gently trailing your fingers down his arm. “it’s… different, but it can still feel just as good.”

he tilts his head, intrigued but still a little lost. “different? what do you mean?”

you take a small breath, careful not to sound too eager, knowing how fragile this moment is for him. “it’s something called pegging, and it’s… well, i’d be the one… filling you up,” you explain, your voice dropping to a gentle, almost coaxing tone. “i’d take care of you, make sure it feels good. all you have to do is trust me.”

choso’s eyes widen a bit, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears. there’s a glint of hesitation, but it quickly melts into something else — a spark of curiosity and excitement that he can’t hide.

“so… i just have to relax, and you’ll do everything?” his voice is quiet, laced with uncertainty, yet there’s something undeniably eager beneath it, a soft flicker of desire mingling with his innocence.

“that’s right,” you assure him, brushing a thumb over his knuckles in reassurance. “just let go, and i’ll take care of everything. i promise.”

the weight of your words sinks in, his gaze searching yours with wide, trusting eyes. he’s so vulnerable, so open, like a blank canvas ready for you to leave your mark. it stirs something deep within you, a protective desire mixed with a thrill, knowing you’re about to guide him through something so intimate, so new.

“okay,” he whispers, voice barely audible, his cheeks a warm, rosy hue. “i trust you.”

you smile, a gentle yet possessive warmth blooming in your chest. “good. we’ll go slow, make sure you’re comfortable every step of the way. just focus on how it feels, yeah?”

his nod is small, but the way his eyes darken slightly, that glimmer of curiosity overtaking any lingering nervousness, tells you all you need to know. he’s yours to guide, to corrupt just a little, and he’s eager to let you.

“you’re gonna do amazing, choso,” you murmur softly, pressing a reassuring kiss to his cheek, savoring the way he melts under your touch, the way his breath hitches with excitement and anticipation.

. . . .

watching him so eagerly scrub himself is honestly one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen.

he’s already flushed from the warm water and his own effort, his hair clinging damply to his face as he carefully makes sure everything’s as perfect as possible. the way he keeps glancing back at you, eyes wide and seeking approval, sends a warmth through you that’s hard to put into words.

when he’s finally finished, he straightens up, a soft blush painted over his cheeks as he nervously meets your gaze. “is… is this okay?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a tinge of eagerness hidden beneath his shy tone.

you can’t help but smile, reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from his face. “you’re perfect, cho,” you murmur, watching the way his eyes light up at the praise. “you did such a good job.”

he visibly relaxes at your words, his lips curling into a small, hopeful smile. “really? i just… wanted to make sure everything’s right for you.”

“it’s more than right,” you assure him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his temple, feeling his breath hitch at the closeness. “now, just lie back and relax for me, okay? i’ll take care of everything from here.”

he swallows hard, nodding as he settles onto his back, his body tense but willing. as you position yourself, letting your breath ghost over his flushed, sensitive hole, you can feel his whole body tense, his fingers digging lightly into the sheets. he’s already trembling slightly, his eyes half-lidded, looking at you with such trust, such anticipation.

“you look so pretty like this, y'know that?” you murmur, trailing a finger along his thigh, enjoying the way he shivers under your touch. “all flushed and waiting so patiently.”

he bites his lip, his cheeks darkening even further. “i just…wanna be good for you.”

the softness in his voice tugs at your heart, and you can’t help but cup his face, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “you’re already so good, cho. just relax for me, okay? i promise i’ll make it feel good.”

his nod is small, but he lets out a shaky breath, his muscles loosening slightly as he settles deeper into the bed. as you trail your hand down, letting your fingers brush over his entrance, you can feel him tense up again, his eyes fluttering closed as he braces himself.

“just breathe f'me, cho,” you whisper, pressing a reassuring hand to his thigh. “one finger first, niiicce and slow.”

he nods, exhaling as you press in gently, watching as his expression shifts from nervousness to something softer, a quiet pleasure that builds as he adjusts. “mmph… it feels… different,” he murmurs, voice breathy as he blinks up at you, his eyes dazed but full of wonder.

“good different or bad different?” you ask, your tone playful as you press a little deeper, watching the way his body responds.

“good,” he whispers, his lips parting slightly as his hips shift, instinctively pressing closer to you. “reaally… good.”

the softness in his voice sends a thrill through you, and you lean in, pressing gentle kisses along his inner thigh as you move your finger slowly, carefully, giving him time to adjust. “you’re doing so well, cho,” you murmur, feeling his breath quicken at the praise. “'m gonna add another, okay?”

his nod is almost frantic, his body arching slightly as you slide another finger in, and a soft gasp escapes him. “it’s… it’s intense,” he breathes, his voice quivering as he shifts, adjusting to the feeling.

“just relax, sweetheart,” you coo, your free hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on his hip. “let me take care of you. just focus on how it feels.”

he lets out a shaky breath, his body melting under your touch, and you watch the way his eyes flutter closed, his face flushed and soft as he surrenders completely to you. it’s a sight that fills you with an almost possessive warmth, knowing he’s given himself over to you so completely, so trustingly.

“you’re so good for me, cho,” you whisper, leaning down to press a kiss just above his navel, savoring the way he shivers beneath you. “such a good boy, letting me do this.”

his eyes flutter open at your words, and he looks at you with a mixture of adoration and desire, his voice barely above a whisper as he replies, “i… i just wanna be yours. all yours.”

but the minute the first drop of warm spit lands inside choso, his reaction is immediate — his body jolts, a soft, desperate sound escaping him as he clings to the sheets beneath him. “nnngh — ahh,” he breathes, his voice breaking slightly as your fingers continue their rhythmic, careful motion, scissoring him open with a gentle, deliberate pressure that sends shivers down his spine. his hips twitch forward, fighting the urge to bear down on your hand, every sensation building into a burning ache he’s never felt before.

“s-sensitive,” he manages, his voice soft and breathy, cheeks flushed as he fights to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch the way you handle him. but every time you move, every time your fingers press just right, his lids flutter shut as he lets out another needy, mewling sound.

“just relax, cho,” you murmur, a hint of playfulness in your tone as you lean closer, watching his expression shift with every move. “the more you relax, the better it’ll feel. promise.”

“mmph… i-it already feels… too good,” he whispers, his voice catching in his throat, a fresh bead of precum sliding down his dick and pooling on his abdomen, mixing with the rest that’s already spilled there from his endless, leaking arousal. his breathing’s heavy, labored, each inhale catching as your fingers curl inside him, stretching him open.

“that’s a good thing,” you reply, leaning in to let your breath ghost over his flushed, sensitive skin as another glob of spit lands right in his hole. it’s messy, warm, and he lets out a choked whimper, his thighs trembling as you slide your fingers deeper, twisting just enough to draw another gasp from his lips.

“a-ah… can’t… can’t believe it feels… like this,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper, his head tilting back as he looks up at you with a dazed, half-lidded gaze. “it’s… so much.”

“it’s gonna be even better when i fill you up properly,” you tease, nodding to the pretty, purple toy sitting beside you, glistening and ready. “think you can handle it?”

he shudders, his face going a deeper shade of red as he looks at it, his breath coming in quick, shaky pants. “i… i don’t know,” he admits, though his voice is lined with excitement, his body pressing instinctively against your hand. “but i… i wanna try.”

“that’s my good boy,” you coo, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath, his skin damp with a fine sheen of sweat. “let’s get you all ready, then. gotta make sure you can take it, right?”

“y-yeah,” he breathes, his lips parting as he lets out a soft, needy moan when you spread him a little more, pressing down on the spot that makes his whole body tense up. “oohh — nngh… right there, please… please don’t stop,” he babbles, his voice pitching higher, sounding utterly wrecked.

“don’t worry, i got you,” you whisper, savoring every little sound he makes, every shiver that wracks his body as he squirms beneath you. “gonna make you feel so good, cho. you just keep being a good boy for me, m'kay?”

his answer is a soft whimper, and when you finally pull your fingers free, he lets out a needy, desperate sound, his hole clenching around nothing, aching for more. you give him a reassuring smile, reaching for the toy, letting him watch as you slick it up, his wide, dazed eyes following every movement.

“ready?” you ask softly, positioning it just at his entrance, waiting for his signal.

he nods, his lips trembling as he bites back a whimper, his legs falling open just a little more. “please… please, i want it,” he whispers, his voice full of trust, of need.

you press forward slowly, watching his face as he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he takes the stretch, his breath stuttering with each inch. “oh — oh my god,” he moans, his voice breathy, broken, his whole body trembling. “s-so… so full…”

“you’re takin' it so well,” you murmur, guiding his hips gently as you sink in deeper, letting him feel every inch, watching as he bites his lip, struggling to keep his composure.

“ahh… can’t… can’t believe… feels so… so big,” he gasps, his hands fisting the sheets as he tries to keep himself together, his mind spinning with pleasure. “oh, god… i don’t… don’t know how long i can…”

“just breathe f'me, cho,” you whisper, your voice soothing as you run a hand over his trembling thigh. “you’re doing amazing. just let it happen.”

you start slow with choso, letting him settle into the feeling, easing him into this vulnerable position you know he’s never experienced before. he’s flushed from head to toe, his breath coming in soft, shaky pants as you fill him up inch by inch, your hands firm on his thighs to keep him grounded.

“you’re doing so well, cho,” you murmur, your voice warm as you lean in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “look how pretty you are, takin' it all like this.”

his cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink at your words, but even as he squirms under you, you can feel his hands grasping at the sheets, fingers curling tight as his hips instinctively shift, pressing down on you as you’re easing inside him.

“more,” he breathes, his voice shaky, threaded with need. “please… i can… i can take it. want all of it…”

you chuckle softly, watching him struggle for composure, his soft, pleading tone making it harder and harder to hold yourself back. “you’re so greedy, aren’t cha?” you tease, leaning down to brush a hand over his cheek, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. “isn’t this your first time, sweetheart? thought we’d take it slow.”

he lets out a frustrated whimper, his hips bucking up as his fingers twist in the sheets, desperation clear in every line of his body. “i know, but… it feels so good,” he gasps, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to rock against you. “need it harder, please… don’t be gentle with me. i can take it, i swear…”

“oh, i know you can,” you reply, voice low and teasing as you push in deeper, watching his body arch under the pressure. “you’re takin' it so well already, aren’t ya, baby? so eager, like you were made for this.” you give his thigh a squeeze, letting him feel the weight of your hands holding him down. “succhh a good lil' thing, lying here alll spread out and begging to be filled.”

he moans, his whole body shuddering as he tightens around the strap, his face twisted with a delicious mixture of pleasure and frustration. “yes… yes, just like that,” he whines, his voice trembling as his hands scramble against the sheets, trying to get a hold of something, anything, to ground himself. “please… want all of you. i’ll be good, i promise…”

“yeah? wanna be good f'me?” you murmur, pressing down harder, drawing another sweet, desperate sound from his lips as he writhes beneath you. “if you’re really good, i might just give you what you want, might just fill you up till you can’t think straight. that what you want, hm?”

he nods frantically, his eyes wild as he looks up at you, his cheeks flushed, a few strands of hair clinging to his forehead. “yes, please, please,” he babbles, his voice pitching higher as he arches his back, pressing himself against you. “wanna be filled up so bad… wanna be yours. wanna feel it all the way inside —”

“you’re already mine,” you tell him, sliding a hand down to grip his hips as you pull him closer, the friction sending a delicious jolt through both of you. “my pretty lil' thing, begging to be bred like this. look at you, so desperate, so needy for it.”

he whimpers, his eyes glazing over, his lips parting as you pick up the pace, thrusting harder, each push drawing another broken moan from his throat. “oh — oh god,” he gasps, his voice catching as his hands fist tighter in the sheets. “pleaassee… please don’t stop, i need it, need you…”

“such a greedy little thing, wanting more already?” you tease, leaning in so your breath ghosts over his flushed skin. “you love being filled up, don’t you? love it so much you’re begging for more before i’m even halfway done with you.” you punctuate your words with a firm thrust, watching as his eyes roll back, his lips trembling as he tries to stifle another needy whimper.

“y-yes… love it… love being yours,” he breathes, his voice breaking as he rocks his hips to meet your thrusts, his entire body trembling as he surrenders completely to you. “please… please don’t stop, i’ll be good, i swear… want it all. wanna be filled, bred, everything—”

“that’s my good boy,” you murmur, your voice soft and possessive as you press him down, feeling his body shiver beneath you. “gonna give you exactly what you want, gonna fill you up till you’re leaking, till you’re a mess, all mine.” your hand slides down, pressing just above his navel as you thrust, watching as he keens under the pressure, his body arching desperately.

“oh — oh god, yes,” he moans, his voice breathy and broken as he melts into your touch, his thighs trembling as he surrenders completely. “please… please don’t stop…”

the words send a thrill down your spine, and you lean in, pressing a soft, possessive kiss to his parted lips. you murmur against his mouth, your voice a low promise. “’m not stopping till you’re completely filled, dripping, and every inch of you is mine.”

the sounds spilling from choso’s lips are nothing short of desperate, his voice cracking as he whines and sobs beneath you, his hands grasping at the sheets like they’re his last anchor.

“please — please, i need it, need you inside me,” he wails, his breath coming in hitched, broken gasps as his hips try to meet your every thrust. “’m yours, just — just fill me up, please, i can’t — i can’t stand it anymore!”

your chuckle is low and dark, a rumble that only serves to make him even more frenzied. “oh, you want me that badly, huh? look at you, all spread out, begging to be filled up. such a pretty thing, a needy little mess, all for me.” you lean in, your voice a mocking purr as you bring one hand up to grip his hip, steadying him as he bucks helplessly beneath you.

“yes! yes, just like that,” he sobs, his body shaking as you drive into him, unrelenting, each thrust deep and purposeful. his own dick twitches, leaking over his abdomen, completely untouched, yet throbbing from the sheer stimulation.

“oh god, please,” he breathes, his voice climbing higher, his cheeks wet with tears as he writhes, completely overwhelmed. “please, i need it so bad, please breed me, fill me, i’ll be good, i’ll take it all—"

“you think you deserve it, baby?” you murmur, watching his reaction as you lean down, letting your breath skim over his ear, savoring the way his body arches, every nerve alight. “you really think you deserve to be bred like this? to be filled up until you’re leaking and ruined?”

he whimpers, nodding frantically as he looks up at you, his eyes glazed and unfocused, cheeks flushed as he struggles to form coherent words. “yes, yes, please, i need it,” he begs, his voice a broken whisper. “i’ll take it all, i’ll be good, i’ll be so good f'you. please, i can’t — i can’t take it anymore… need to feel you inside, need it so much…”

your fingers itch, hovering over the pump, the mechanism that’ll fill him just like he wants, but you hold off, savoring the sight of him completely undone, the way he thrashes, how utterly vulnerable and needy he’s become under you.

“then you’re gonna have to beg a little more for it, baby,” you coo, a sadistic grin on your face as you thrust into him harder, drawing another sob from his lips.

“if you want me to fill you up like that, you better tell me exactly how much you need it. every. plap filthy. plap little. plap detail.”

he chokes on a whimper, his hands scrambling to grip anything as he gasps, shuddering from head to toe. “i — i need it so bad,” he sobs, his voice trembling as his body writhes beneath you. “need to feel it, deep inside, want it so badly it hurts… please, please, i’m begging you. i’ll be your good girl, i’ll take it all, just — just give it t'me, fill me up like you promised.”

the sound of that, the desperate, feminine way he’s reduced to pleading, breaks something in you, and your fingers move to the pump, hovering as you look down at him, savoring his flushed, tear-streaked face.

“you’ll take it all, won’t you?” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his damp temple as you finally press the pump, a rush of warmth spilling into him, filling him up just as he’s been begging for. his breath catches, his whole body tensing as he feels it, his eyes rolling back as he lets out a strangled, blissed-out cry, his own length twitching uncontrollably, spilling over himself in sheer ecstasy.

“there you go,” you whisper, your voice laced with pride as you watch him fall apart completely beneath you, his body shaking, his breath coming in desperate gasps as he lies there, utterly spent and full, just like he wanted. “such a good girl, taking it all like that. you look so pretty, all filled up and ruined for me.”

he nods, a dazed, satisfied smile tugging at his lips as he reaches for you, his fingers trembling as he clings to you, his breath softening as he nuzzles into your touch. “thank you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, exhausted and content. “thank you so much…”

you can’t help but laugh softly as you press a tender kiss to the tip of his flushed, sensitive cockhead, feeling him shudder and whimper as his hips twitch up, already overstimulated from everything you’ve put him through. he looks utterly adorable, his cheeks still pink, hair messy and sticking to his forehead. you brush a few stray strands back, catching the dopey, lovestruck grin spreading across his face as he meets your gaze.

“thank you,” he mumbles, his voice soft and full of reverence, his fingers trailing over your shoulder, warm and affectionate. “that was… that was amazing.” he hesitates for a second, biting his lip before looking at you with those wide, hopeful eyes.

“so… do you think… maybe we’ll have kids soon?” his cheeks flush deeper as he says it, glancing shyly away, clearly brimming with excitement. “i mean… i can already feel it working,” he adds, a little whisper that makes you stifle a laugh.

you smile, squeezing his hand as you help him clean up, listening to him ramble with that innocent optimism that’s so genuinely choso. “oh, yeah?” you tease, hiding a smirk as you hand him a warm towel. “think i did a good enough job breeding you, huh?”

he nods enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up, his smile wide and absolutely precious. “definitely,” he says, a look of complete certainty on his face. “i mean, with how full i feel… it’s gotta work. we’re practically guaranteed a family.” he trails off with a dreamy sigh, looking up at you with such genuine adoration that it almost makes you feel bad for not explaining the biology to him sooner.

but right now, seeing him so happy, so content, you decide to let him have this moment. “well, you certainly did a good job taking it all,” you say with a soft smile, ruffling his hair as he leans into your touch, beaming.

“i’ll be the best dad,” he murmurs, eyes sparkling as he starts rambling, envisioning the family life he’s already got mapped out in his head. “we could go to the zoo, and i’ll teach them all about the animals… oh! and we’ll have matching sweaters! i mean, maybe… maybe just for the holidays.”

“and we’ll do all of that,” you say, grinning as you pull him into a warm hug, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “but maybe we’ll have a little biology lesson first, hm? just so we’re both, uh… prepared.”

“biology lesson?” he asks, tilting his head, curious but entirely unbothered. “doesn’t that mean more practice?”

you laugh, patting his back. “maybe it does.”

❤︎ taglist: @ghost-buddies @no-irefusetotellumyname @byerno6 @anime-s1ut @stinkarinka @aldebrana @toessssw @mima0127 @ilovyoo m sorry this one took a bit longer, hope you like it <3

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[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Sixteen

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Sixteen: Teruhashi's Tears and Rifuta's Crush

Summary: Teruhashi comes over and interrupts Saiki's New Year, but somehow she isn't the worst guest that comes. Also, (Y/N)'s hypothesis is spot-on about Rifuta.

            Mr. and Mrs. Saiki laughed as (Y/N) told them about one of the many (unfortunate) adventures they had been on with Saiki—this time a tale of the karaoke party where Saiki had to end up performing. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t want his parents to know he’d done something so public since it would encourage them to bother him to do stupid stuff in front of people, but it was a fond memory since (Y/N) had been there, taken most of the attention, and made the entire thing worth it. So, he let (Y/N) continue as they beamed when they remembered dancing around and pretended to do it again. All-in-all, this was turning out to be a perfect New Year’s Day.

            Alright, I’ve got the plan! I casually tell him Happy New Year, and then when I mention the festival, he’ll want to come along!

            Saiki’s mood darkened. Of course Teruhashi was already here to bother him on a lovely day. So, to stop her from interrupting, he grabbed onto the doorbell of his house with his psychic abilities and smothered the sound of it.

            There. No ruining my day.

            “Hey, can I help you?”

            Saiki jerked as he heard a voice speaking to Teruhashi. He hadn’t heard any other thoughts approaching, and the voice—

            Him!

            “What’s wrong, Kusuo?” asked (Y/N), noticing Saiki’s tiny change in mood.

            There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Saiki stood. She peered out the window and beamed.

            “It’s Kusuke and Kokomi!” she said. “What a lovely surprise.”

            Oh, that explains his mood, thought (Y/N), smothering a little chuckle. Saiki saw their amusement and scowled—though there was no real malice. (Y/N) chuckled and patted his hand. “We’ll deal with it.”

            “Don’t let them in,” said Saiki as his mom headed to the door, but she was already opening the door.

            “Welcome in!” she said, beaming. “Oh, Kusuke, you’re home!”

            “Mom, it’s been a while,” said Kusuke, smiling.

            “Happy New Year,” greeted Teruhashi politely. She saw (Y/N) and started slightly. “Oh, (Y/N). You’re here?”

            Fortunately for Teruhashi, there was no annoyance at seeing them. They were friends, and that friendship meant Teruhashi’s inevitable jealousy at not getting Saiki alone was dampened. (And that was fortunate for Teruhashi because bad thoughts about (Y/N) meant getting onto Saiki’s bad side).

            “My parents are out of town on a work trip,” said (Y/N), smiling. “The Saikis were nice enough to invite me over.”

            That was the complete truth, they merely left out that Mrs. Saiki had also rambled about how “if (Y/N)’s family wasn’t going to take care of them as a family, then they were going to be part of the Saiki family, and Kusuo should get a move on and make sure they never leave because they’re just too sweet and—” (and so on and so forth).

            “When are your parents actually at the house?” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) shrugged. They were pretty much used to living independently at this point.

            “Wait, do you two know each other?” said Mr. Saiki, looking between Teruhashi and Kusuke.

            “She was ringing the doorbell, so I brought her in,” said Kusuke. His intelligence had just known it would irritate Saiki.

            “The doorbell?” said Mr. Saiki.

            “Oh, my, I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear it!” said Mrs. Saiki.

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at Saiki. He looked away, and they tutted.

            This is a huge revelation! I had no idea Saiki had an older brother! thought Teruhashi. But I don’t really like his type…Speaking of siblings “Is Kuriko here today?”

            “What?” said Saiki’s parents.

            Oh, right. Saiki had forgotten about his feminine name. I pretended to by my own sister, who doesn’t exist. I have to let them know.

            “Kuriko?” said Mrs. Saiki, frowning.

            “Oh, right, kuriko!” Mr. Saiki grabbed something from the kitchen—literal kuriko. “Here is kuriko for you.”

            That’s kuri chestnut paste.

            “No, I mean Saiki’s sister,” said Teruhashi. She looked at (Y/N). “You met her.”

            “Right,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Isn’t it amazing how similar she and Kusuo look? Especially since their brother—”

            “You can call me Kusuke,” said Kusuke.

            “No.” Saiki didn’t need him being familiar or friendly with his partner.

            “—looks so different with the blonde hair. Kuriko and Kusuo both have pink,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s true,” said Teruhashi, smiling.

            Good clue, thought Saiki. Hopefully his parents would get the hint.

            “I don’t know any Kur—Mm!”

            Kusuke shoved the kuri chestnut paste into his dad’s mouth and smiled. “Oh, of course! Our sister, Kuriko.” Of course the genius had figured the plot out. “She’s abroad right now, like I was. You know her?”

            “Oh, really?” said Mr. Saiki, still a little confused but starting to get it.

            “I do,” said Teruhashi.

            Unbelievable, thought Saiki.

            “Which country did she go to?” asked Teruhashi.

            “Paraguay,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “Paraguay?” said Teruhashi, amazed.

            “Shut up,” said Saiki to Mr. Saiki.

            “Kusuo, I have a present for you!” said Kusuke, successfully changing the subject (not that a “gift” from Kusuke would be much better than the present conversation). “I have one for you, too, (Y/N)!” He held up envelopes.

            Never mind, this is good. Saiki could see the money inside with his x-ray vision.

            “Oh, I can’t accept that,” said (Y/N), waving their hands.

            Teruhashi glanced between (Y/N) and the envelope. Saiki’s brother prepared a gift for them? That’s very close…

            “Well, you are Kusuo’s pa—”

            “Pal!” interrupted (Y/N) before Kusuke could blurt out the word “partner.” Embarrassed, they took the enveloped and bowed. “Thank you!”

            Close one… (Y/N) and Saiki breathed a sigh of relief.

            We need to get out of here, thought Saiki. He tapped (Y/N) on the shoulder and gestured to the door.

            They nodded and grabbed their coat—pink with hearts embroidered on the pockets. They headed towards the door, and Saiki pulled on his boots.

            “We should invite Kokomi,” whispered (Y/N).

            “No,” said Saiki. He wanted a nice moment with (Y/N).

            “She and Kusuke with each other is going to be a problem,” pointed out (Y/N).

            Saiki hated they were right. “Fine, but then we go out the two of us.”

            “Of course,” said (Y/N), kissing Saiki’s cheek before going back to the living room to invite Kokomi.

            Saiki let out a little sigh. Oh, wow. He’d never get tired of their affection.

l

            This is the worst-case scenario. Saiki glared ahead of himself as Kusuke walked through the crowd with them.

            Why is his brother tagging along? Teruhashi had deflated. With (Y/N) at least that was a friend and she could still have a moment with Saiki—Not happening—but with Kusuke, that was going to be weird.

            I should have known Kusuke would tag along, thought (Y/N). The genius had known what would annoy Saiki.

            I need to get out of here with (Y/N), decided Saiki. Risking Teruhashi and Kusuke interacting was fine—he was too tired to care.

            “By the way, do you have a crush on Kusuo?” said Kusuke, turning around with an “innocent” smile. He looked directly at Teruhashi.

            Her face promptly turned several shades of red, and she coughed. “You shouldn’t embarrass Saiki like that!” she said nervously. “And we’re just friends! It’s nothing more!”

            “Oh, good,” said Kusuke.

            He knows she’s lying. (Y/N) and Saiki exchanged a worried glance.

            I knew I wouldn’t like him, thought Teruhashi.

            “I mean, you obviously don’t have anything in common,” said Kusuke, still with that “innocent” smile. “You’re different as night and day.”

            “What?” said Teruhashi. “Saiki and I have plenty—”

            “What are you saying?” Kusuke’s smile had dropped, and he looked at her coldly.

            “What?” said Teruhashi.

            “I can see through you. You’re not worthy of Kusuo,” said Kusuke.

            Teruhashi froze. No one had ever spoken to her like that.

            “You thought you could fool me?” said Kusuke. “Well, it’s to be expected. You probably have been pampered your whole life because of your looks. But Kusuo is on a different level.”

            “Hey!” said (Y/N), glaring at him. “Leave Kokomi alone!” Even if they knew Teruhashi didn’t have a chance with Saiki, Kusuke was just being mean.

            I realize now why I don’t like this guy, thought Teruhashi, staring at Kusuke with wide, shocked eyes. He hasn’t gasped even once since meeting me. There’s never been anyone who wasn’t interested in me.

            “Come on, Kokomi. Let’s leave this jerk,” said (Y/N), taking Teruhashi’s hand. Kusuke had been unnecessarily cruel, and (Y/N) wasn’t going to stand around while their friend was hurt.

            “Don’t look at me like that, Kusuo,” said Kusuke as Saiki glared. “I was just teasing her. We both know only one person is worthy of you, and that’s because they aren’t shallow and have some real spirit! They stand up to everyone! That’s some real power against a monster like you.”

            Saiki ignored the insults directed at him and the compliments towards (Y/N). (He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that his entire family liked (Y/N) or irritated that even his annoying brother liked them).

            “Kokomi?” said (Y/N), gazing at their friend in worry. They still held her hand.

            I’ve never felt such shame. I won’t forgive him! declared Teruhashi. She sniffled, and a tear fell. “I—I never meant to—”

            “Sorry, I know you’re a talented actress, too,” said Kusuke, looking past the crying. But everyone else was glaring at him as the crowd noticed the perfect pretty girl crying. “What’s going on? These people are surrounding us.”

            “They’re surrounding you. Not us,” said Saiki, taking (Y/N)’s hand and pulling them back as the crowd advanced on Kusuke.

            My secret pretty girl technique, Angel Tears! thought Teruhashi.

            “Who do you think you are?!” shouted the crowd. “You made Teruhashi cry!” They rushed Kusuke.

            “Are these all her boyfriends?” he remarked.

            “We’ll bash your head in!” cried the crowd.

            “Kusuo? (Y/N)?” Kusuke sweat-dropped and looked at them.

            “What do you want us to do?” said Saiki, deadpan.

            “Get him!” The crowd jumped onto Kusuke.

            “Wow, he was defeated by Kokomi,” said (Y/N), impressed.

            “And there’s a perfect distraction.” Saiki pulled (Y/N) through the crowd as Teruhashi watched her “hard work” proudly.

            “Shouldn’t we be worried about Kusuke?” said (Y/N), looking back at the crowd.

            “He’ll be fine. He always has a plan,” said Saiki.

            “Fair enough,” chuckled (Y/N). “And he does deserve a little bit of fear for being so mean.”

            Saiki smirked. He agreed. And, now, as he pulled (Y/N) far away from Teruhashi and her fans, he could really enjoy the New Year Festival. With (Y/N) and only (Y/N).

            “We should go on the Ferris Wheel,” said (Y/N) excitedly, squeezing his hand.

            “Okay.” Anything they wanted, they were getting.

            And so, he let them lead him to the line and watched them grin out the window of the compartment all the way to the top. (Y/N) smiled as they saw the city spread out before them, all the people small and faraway.

            “So pretty,” they said, smiling.

            “Very,” agreed Saiki. But he wasn’t looking at the view. No, he was looking at the smile on (Y/N)’s face. And, unable to help himself—why would he when they looked so handsome in the golden light of the sun—he leaned and kissed their cheek.

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, they turned towards him, and, before he could pull back, (Y/N) kissed him. Saiki happily kissed back.

            A perfect New Years.

            What could be better than this?

l

            “We have a problem,” said Saiki as the lunch bell rang.

            “Huh?” said (Y/N). “Are you alright?”

            “Rifuta is going to try to confess to me,” said Saiki.

            “Uh-oh,” said (Y/N). They had forgotten about Rifuta developing a crush on Saiki (though they also knew that Rifuta 100% also had a crush on Teruhashi and was a bit confused).

            “Let’s leave to eat lunch before she gets here,” said Saiki.

            “Got it,” said (Y/N), grabbing their bento box and following Saiki out. They took the long way around the school and headed to the yard. There were too many people around for Rifuta to confess, so that was good.

            “I’ve been using my telepathy to give her dreams so that she hates me, but it’s not working,” said Saiki.

            “She and Kokomi are very single-minded,” said (Y/N). They paused. “But I think that Rifuta is just a bit confused. Maybe if you get her to realize she’s head-over-heels for Kokomi more than she is for you, that’ll help?”

            “…She’d hate me for Teruhashi liking me, and then my reputation would be ruined,” said Saiki.

            “Fair point.” (Y/N) winced. They’d seen Kusuke get dragged away by people who were angry that Teruhashi was upset, and they didn’t want to see what would happen to Saiki if he upset Rifuta—it wouldn’t be as bad as upsetting Teruhashi, but it wasn’t preferable. “So what do we do?”

            “I don’t know,” said Saiki.

            “…What if we acted closer?” said (Y/N).

            Saiki looked at them. “What?”

            “If Rifuta thinks you’re dating someone, she’ll back off. She’s just competing with Teruhashi, not really interested in you, so it could help,” said (Y/N). They waved their hands. “I-It doesn’t have to be me so it’s not obvious we’re really dating, we can get Miko or something, but it’s just an idea—”

            “Let’s do it.” Saiki was desperate to get Rifuta off his back, and maybe being unavailable would explain his “unbelievable” disinterest in Rifuta.

            “Okay, I’ll text Miko—”

            “No, you and me.”

            “Are you sure? If she really believes we’re dating, that’s another person finding out,” said (Y/N). “And it could get out that we’re dating—”

            “If it does, it does. It has to happen at some point,” said Saiki.

The blowback from Teruhashi and the craziness of people finding out would be troublesome, but if it meant just being himself with (Y/N), in public, then he was fine with it. (Y/N) and Saiki both knew their relationship as their business and no one else’s, but they supposed it would have to happen at some point.

            Plus, this could begin to get the idea of them dating into people’s heads so when it finally came out it made a sense. It eased people into it so they didn’t freak. (Honestly, it was fairly obvious to the audience that they liked one another, so why wouldn’t it be for people in the story?)

            “Okay,” said (Y/N). “Then we’ll act affectionate to get Rifuta to realize you’re not interested for a real reason.”

            Saiki nodded.

l

            (Y/N) counted to ten as Saiki entered the lobby of the school to get his shoes. Rifuta was waiting for him, and he had walked right by her. Now it was their turn. They were a little giddy at the idea of being affectionate with Saiki in public. They weren’t a huge PDA person, and they didn’t care about people knowing they were dating—they didn’t act much differently than they had before except for being sweeter and kissing—but this was still fun.

            Alright. Here we go.

            “Kusuo!” (Y/N) smiled as they rounded the corner and walked up to Saiki. They took his hand. “Are you ready to go out?” They leaned in, their head on his shoulder.

            “What?” Rifuta couldn’t help but speak aloud as she stared at the sight. He’s got a partner?! Really? No way!

            “I am,” said Saiki, brushing their hair from their face affectionately. “Let’s go.”

            “Saiki! Is that your partner?” said Rifuta, getting right to it. Her hands were on her hips as she looked between the pair.

            Didn’t expect her to be so direct. I guess someone else is really finding out today.

            “I am,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Your Teruhashi’s friend and are dating him?” said Rifuta, hands on her hips.

            “Hm? What does Teruhashi have to do with who’s dating him?” said (Y/N), tilting their head in “confusion.”

            They don’t know Teruhashi likes him?! Oh, no! How will Teruhashi feel?!

            Saiki heard Rifuta’s thoughts and blinked. (Y/N)’s analysis of a suppressed crush on Teruhashi was correct.

            “W-Well, uh, doesn’t your friend know?” said Rifuta, trying to cover.

            “I think relationships are very private. Don’t you?” said (Y/N), smiling and friendly as ever.

            “I, uh, I guess—” Rifuta was growing confused by her worry for Teruhashi and how to react to (Y/N) still being sweet as usual. No thoughts of liking Saiki herself came to her mind—Saiki was pleased by that. I don’t feel jealousy, hate, or anything. Weird. I’m just confused. I guess I don’t like him after all?

            Looks like it went well,��thought Saiki.

            But then why do I still feel so upset? Why does my stomach hurt? Why do I keep thinking about how Teruhashi will react to this? thought Rifuta.

            “Uh, oh, Kusuo, Kokomi’s coming,” said (Y/N), seeing a glow appearing at the end of the hall. “I don’t think we can risk her finding out.” Her crush was still so steady that the blowback to their friendship would be horrendous.

            Oh, no! Teruhashi is coming! She’ll see them together! I have to do something!

            What?

            Rifuta shoved (Y/N) and Saiki forward, and they stumbled into the storage closet. She slammed it closed behind them and stood in front.

            …Huh?

            I did not see that coming.

            “Oh, Imu!” said Teruhashi, spotting her friend. “Long time no see.”

            “Y-Yes,” said Rifuta, growing nervous.

            “What’s was that?” whispered (Y/N), looking at Saiki.

            “I don’t know.” He supported himself by his arms, but they were still incredibly close in the cramped closet. “Ask the girl who shoved us in here.”

            “Are you on your way home?” said Teruhashi, smiling.

            “Yes, I’ll be leaving soon, too,” said Rifuta. Why did I cover for them? Because she would be sad if she saw?

            “Let’s go home together!” Teruhashi grinned and linked her arm with Rifuta’s.

            Rifuta blushed, and her heart pounded. She’s so close! Wow! Shaking her head, she pulled away. No, no way! If you think everything is fine, you’re mistaken! She steeled herself and looked at Teruhashi. “Do you like Saiki, Teruhashi?” If she admits she likes him, I’ll open the door and show her! I’ll make you cry your eyes out!

            Saiki and (Y/N)’s eyes widened. If they were found like this and their relationship came out—Oh, boy. Teruhashi would be upset, and they’d be hunted down for the rest of their days.

            Nervously, Teruhashi blushed. “Y-yes. I’ve never really liked a boy before, so I’m not sure, but I think I do.”

            “Why? Was it love at first sight?” said Rifuta.

            “No. I was the opposite,” said Teruhashi. “At first, I didn’t like how he was never attracted to me. I was so angry with him that I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

            I see. I get it now, thought Rifuta.

            I knew it was the idea of someone not treating her as a pretty thing to look at, thought (Y/N). Teruhashi needed to be valued as more than her looks, and Saiki was the first person to look at her without paying attention to her appearance, which was attractive to her.

            Teruhashi! I love you! Rifuta hugged Teruhashi suddenly.

            “Not what I expected,” murmured Saiki.

            “Huh?” said (Y/N).

            “She loves Teruhashi,” said Saiki. “You were right.”

            I’ll never beat her beauty and kindness! Rifuta held Teruhashi close.

            “What’s going on, Imu?” asked Teruhashi, confused.

            I’m so hopeless! I love her! Rifuta smiled with a wide smile.

            “I knew it,” asid (Y/N), smiling.

            “What’s the matter?” asked Teruhashi.

            I felt such anger because Saiki didn’t choose Teruhashi, but now I’m so relieved you weren’t taken from me. “I’m rooting for you!” said Rifuta. Even if she was lying a bit, she wanted Teruhashi to be in a fulfilling relationship. “I want you to be happy!”

            “What’s gotten into you?” asked Teruhashi, worried at the sudden change in attitude.

            “This is so much worse,” said Saiki.

            “It’s nothing. Let’s go home together,” said Rifuta.

            “She’s going to help Teruhashi,” groaned Saiki as Rifuta and Teruhashi walked away from the closet.

            “Uh-oh. I guess this backfired a bit?” said (Y/N), wincing. “Sorry. It was my idea.”

            Saiki shook his head. “It’s fine. Rifuta just had a realization. It had to happen at some point.”

            “Who else would be someone’s gay awakening?” laughed (Y/N) slightly. They reached for the door handle. “At least we can leave now and one less person has a crush on you. And we didn’t get found in here. That would have been a scandal.”

            “Scandalous, huh?” Saiki smirked slightly.

            (Y/N) looked at his expression. “Uh, Kusuo? You alright?”

            Saiki leaned in and kissed them. (Y/N) was surprised but kissed back—they weren’t saying no to a kiss from Saiki. One of his hands supporting himself went to their waist and pulled them closer. (Y/N)’s felt the pressure and smiled into the kiss. Their hands rose and tangled into his hair as he kissed them.

            When the passionate kiss ended, Saiki leaned his forehead against theirs. “That is scandalous.”

            (Y/N) looked at him, breathless. “When did you become a flirt?”

            Saiki just smiled, leaned back in, and kissed them.

            “We—” kiss “—have—” kiss “—to—” kiss “—go—” kiss “—home—” (Y/N) spoke between kisses.

            Effortlessly, Saiki teleported them and their belongings back to his house, all the while continuing to kiss them. “There. Let me kiss you.”

            (Y/N) laughed, pulled him in, and kissed him.

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[kanasbinwriting]

Hello! Could you possibly write a Sol x gn reader where the reader calls Sol and tells him to come inside and cuddle with them because they've been tired mentally and emotionally and just want to be held? And that they actually know that he's been sneaking in their apartment but they don't really care and actually they find it a little cute

Also I'm sorry if this sounds awkward, I don't know how to words things properly 😅

SOL X READER

Thank you so much for your request ^^ I really enjoyed writing this!! I hope I did an okay job

Fun fact, I'm actually working on making a Sol figure out of clay 💪

Anyway, enjoy!!

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It was dark outside; nothing could be heard but the wind rustling through the leaves and the occasional hum of cars driving by. You felt tired, but no matter how hard you tried to fall asleep, nothing worked—the stress consuming you whole.

You sat up on your bed, trying some breathing exercises you saw online to calm your racing mind, but to no success. Your mind was occupied with all sorts of things that caused you a great immense of stress and you couldn't help but feel emotionally drained as a result. Oh, to have someone hold you close right now. You let out a small whine as you rubbed your eyes. You glanced over at your phone charging on the bedside table, thinking to yourself. Sol, wouldn't mind if you called him, right? You picked up your phone and checked the time. Sol should be on his way right now. But waiting for him would be a bit awkward, you doubted that he'd even go near your window if he saw that you were still awake. You looked to your bedside table once more, where a glass of orange juice stood untouched, waiting for you to take a sip. You could just drink it and let the sleeping pills do their work, or at least that's what you think that he'd put in your drink to ensure you'd be sound asleep around the time he arrived for his nightly visits.

With a deep sigh, you decided to not drug yourself tonight. Maybe you could just give him a call. It wouldn't come off as weird, right? In all defence, he was the one breaking into your apartment every night. If anyone was weird then it was definitely him and not you for calling him at this ungodly hour. You tapped on his contact and raised your phone to your ear, calling him. No answer. Was he asleep? No way. He wouldn't be. You looked at your phone in disbelief and tried it again after a few seconds. You stood up from your bed and made your way toward the window when he finally picked up.

"H-Hello..?" He greeted you in a hushed tone.

You let out a chuckle.

"Are you serious?" You asked playfully.

"Huh?" Sol replied in complete confusion. "What do you mean...?" his tone shifted nervously, but before he could question further, you cut him off with a smug grin.

"Look up." Now looking down at him from your open window.

He froze and went completely silent, not daring to move a single muscle.

"W-what—"

You hung up and leaned further out the window.

"Why, hello there!" You called, winking unbeknownst to him.

He slowly raised his head to look at you and the look on his face was priceless. You gave him a knowing smile, waiting for him to say something. "I can explain...!" He stammered, raising his hands in defence.

"Can you now?" You settled your chin in your hand, your elbow propped up on your windowsill.

"I-I was... just going for a walk" You looked at him with a bored expression on your face

"Oh, really?"

"Yes." He nodded trying to look confident. He might've convinced you if it weren't for his all-black outfit and mask. With a sigh, you decided to end the senseless interrogation.

"Just come inside."

"What...?!" He exclaimed loudly in bewilderment.

"You... want me to come inside?"

"That's what I said, yes."

You walked away from your window and sat on your bed. It took Sol a few seconds to process what had just happened. He pinched his cheek to confirm he wasn't dreaming. Upon realising that it was, in fact, real, he quickly but carefully climbed to your apartment. As he slipped in through your window, making sure to close the window, he now stood before you, his face flushed crimson red. You let out a yawn and made yourself comfortable on your bed to which his breath slightly stutters."Can we cuddle?"

"What...?" he stammered, looking taken aback. "I said, can we cuddle?" You repeated, motioning for him to join you. He hesitated for a moment before muttering a quiet "Fuck it..." before walking toward you. He awkwardly tried to make himself comfortable next to you, keeping his arms close to himself, too nervous to touch you. His whole body tensed when you, without warning, wrapped your arms around him snuggling your head against his neck. Inhaling his scent, you let out a contented sigh. He lets you wrap your limbs around him, sensing that there's something wrong. He began to ease up in your embrace, wrapping his arms around you and began to gently stroke your head.

"Thank you..." You whispered quietly against his neck and he felt a shudder run down his spine. "No problem..." He whispered back, as a lovesick expression appeared on his face. Not paying him any mind you closed your eyes and slowly began to drift off to sleep in his his embrace.

[megumiluvv]

Choso has noticed these little things with you lately. Just simple things, like how you clean his apartment while Yuji naps, or how you take naps on his couch on particularly boring days. He finds himself subconsciously leaving a blanket out on the couch before he leaves for work, or stacking the pile of dishes in the sink so it’d be easier to manage.

He comes home after a rough day, working one of his umpteen jobs where many customers (who aren’t always right, he finds) yell at him for hours, and sees that you’re asleep on the couch, the dishwasher is going, and dinner has been cooked. Though nothing regarding the dinner has been actually eaten, maybe you were waiting for him to come home? He sets his things down, trying to be quiet and let you sleep, but his keys fall and wake you up with a start.

“Who’s there?” You sit up, sleepiness evident in your voice.

“It’s just me, don’t worry.”

“Gah, I fell asleep,” you mumble and get off the couch, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders.

“That’s alright. Yuji still asleep?”

“Yeah, gotta wake him up…”

“I’ll do it,” Choso says.

“No, you look like you had a rough day, and if I sit down again, I’ll go back to sleep.”

“Didn’t know my couch was that comfortable.”

You laugh and go to wake Yuji, while Choso warms up the food. Yuji clings to you when you exit the boy’s bedroom, Choso can tell he’s been asleep for a while. The kid perks up when he sees food, though, and hops from your arms to the dinner table.

Another little thing Choso has noticed: you always walk certain paths to get somewhere in his apartment. Like taking the left side of the hall to get to Yuji’s room, or going behind the couch to get to the bathroom. Round the corner quickly and dodge the ends of the kitchen island by curling your body the other way. However, sometimes you miss and hit your side, making Yuji giggle and eliciting a groan of pain from yourself.

You sit down, rubbing your side that’s sure to bruise tomorrow, and poke Yuji’s nose playfully. The boy giggles and shoos your hand away, then takes a bite of his food. Choso sits with you two and eats quietly, just observing.

When did this all start to feel so normal? You’re just his neighbor, but you feel like part of the family now. You’ve also gotten used to when Sukuna visits, even combatting the witty remarks with some of your own.

“Choso, chooosoooo, anyone there?” You tease and get his attention.

“Hm?”

“Are ya tired or somethin’? You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Ah, sorry about that.”

“No, it’s alright, just wanna check on you is all.”

“Thank you. I’m alright, just had a long day at work.”

“I see. Go get some sleep, I’ll put Yuji to bed and lock the door on my way out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this. Take care of yourself, Choso.” You smile and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Why are you so perfect?

Yuji watches as Choso goes to bed and looks up at you. “He looks at you like how Megumi looks at pretty flowers.”

You would’ve choked on your food if you didn’t swallow two seconds before the boy spoke. “What does that mean, Yu?”

“I dunno, maybe he thinks you’re pretty. I think you are. I’m gonna go put on my pajamas.”

And just like that, the boy disappears, leaving you alone to process the words he said. You eventually snap out of it and clean up, tucking Yuji into bed and making sure he’s asleep before going next door to your apartment. What did Yuji mean by that? Is there a chance he likes you too? You never noticed anything out of the ordinary, so what little thing did Yuji notice?

Masterlist

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

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[dadvans]

Your latest ficlet is so good… I can’t stop thinking about Tommy having to tell Buck about their 10 year old, it’s delicious

(part one)

There really isn’t much cool to do in Ukiah. Buck told Tommy this and he could hear Tommy rolling his eyes over the phone the way he said, “Buck, we live in Tehama, she’ll cope,” and then Tommy had said, “we can all go to a park, you can kill me and they’ll never find the body, it’ll be a great way for you two to bond.”

So, just before noon on a Saturday morning one month after the CFCA, Buck sees his daughter for the first time in person, watches her as she practically dislocates Tommy’s arm as they enter his favorite coffee shop and she bounces right up to the counter, braids swinging. It’s quiet, morning rush over and lunch rush yet to come, so he hears Tommy say, “you can have one flavor.” He hears his daughter’s voice for the first time when she leans on the butcher block counter top, smiling, and says, “a white hot chocolate with raspberry, please,” like she’s getting away with murder.

“That’s a small,” Tommy says, “and a medium drip, thanks. For here.”

“With whipped cream,” their daughter adds.

“None for me,” Tommy says, as if automatic. Like they’ve done this a hundred times. Maybe they have. He digs out his credit card and taps it against the register screen before he actually looks up and around to spot Buck sitting in the far corner. He nods. Buck raises a tentative hand, gives a small wave, and then Tommy is leaning down and getting their daughter’s attention, pointing him out.

She skips over while Tommy waits at the counter.

Buck wants to puke.

“Hi,” she says, and she reaches out a hand like she’s a little adult. “I’m Mary.”

“Nice to meet you, Mary,” Buck says, by some miracle finding his voice. He shakes her hand. “I’m uh, I’m Buck.”

“Daddy said your name is Evan,” Mary says, letting go and sitting down.

“Oh, yeah, Buck’s just my nickname. It’s what my friends call me. So, you can call me Buck too.

“Evan’s my middle name,” she continues, as if she didn’t hear or care. His daughter. “Mary Evan. Evan’s usually a boy’s name, but girls can be named Evan too. Like Evan Rachel Wood. She’s the mom in Frozen Two.”

“Yeah,” Buck says weakly. He didn’t know that, even if Jee made him watch everything Frozen before she hit high school. “My niece used to love that movie.”

Tommy walks over to join them, two mugs on little plates in hand. The smaller one has a mountain of whipped cream, sprinkles, and a straw.

“Here’s your cup of sugar, kid,” he says, sliding it in front of Mary before sitting down with his own. He takes a sip and gives an approving nod. “Not bad.”

“Yeah, I like this place,” Buck says, trying to keep his tone even. “They roast their own beans, so my house gets their coffee from here.”

“That must make you popular,” Tommy says, voice wry but not unkind, “Chief.”

“Daddy says you’re a Chief that doesn’t fly helicopters but still fights fires,” Mary says. The table shakes a little, because she’s kicking her feet.

“Uh, yup, just a boring, regular firefighter,” he replies. He can’t stop looking at her. Even with her braids she’s got frizz coming out from underneath her beanie bright red, redder than he was when he was her age but without ever seeing a picture of Tommy as a kid he’s sure she gets it from him. Her eyes are blue like the Pacific Ocean, murky and deep. She’s wearing a puffer vest and long sleeves even though it’s late September. Tommy always ran cold too, he remembers, thinking of the one summer they shared together.

“That’s not boring,” Mary tells him, so serious, before taking a sip of her drink. “I like engines more than helicopters. Did you know helicopters have a thirty-percent higher chance of crashing than planes? I’m learning percentages in school.”

His heart bursts. Yeah. She’s his fucking kid.

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷

Syx: So when I said find a hobby, I didn’t mean buy a fixer-upper.

Icarus: I know!

Syx: Ok but if you knew then why?!

Icarus: Because it’s better than half of the shitholes on the market!

Syx: I bet I could find something better. Watch.

Icarus: NO! No.

Ares: Why are you guys yelling? I have such a bad headache.

Icarus: Can’t handle your liquor anymore? 

Ares: I can leave. 

Icarus: Oh he’s cranky.

Syx: Incredibly.

Winona: Hey! Uh, sorry to bother you losers but Icarus, there’s people outside.

Icarus: Huh?

-

Icarus: Hello! 

Umber: Hi, we heard someone moved into the old house on the gulch and we wanted to welcome you. Hope you don’t mind!

Icarus: Not at all. 

Umber: I’m Umber, this is my son Wren. My wife Juniper. Talia and my sister Sienna. Wow that was a mouthful. 

Icarus: [ chuckles ] Icarus and my sister Winona. These are my friends, Syx and Ares. My grandma is…

Winona: Sleeping.

Icarus: Ah, yes.

Juniper: We brought some apple pie for all of you. 

Winona: Mom used to make this all the time! Icarus, maybe she can teach you how to bake. 

Icarus: Oh-

Juniper: Actually, Sienna here made it. I just packaged it up. 

Icarus: We’ll have to say thanks, right Winona? Winona?

Winona: Sup. You guys cool?

Wren: Probably.

Winona: Sick.

Sienna: Nice to meet the fool that bought this place.

Icarus: Uh-

Umber: Christ Sienna-

Sienna: A joke!

Icarus: I mean you aren’t wrong.

Sienna: See? He agrees. Anyways, let us know if you need any help.

Icarus: I appreciate it. 

Icarus: So how long have you lived here?

Umber: Whole life. It’s rare when people leave.

Icarus: Ah. What happened to the folks who owned this home?

Umber: Old age, a sweet couple, they never had kids. They always said the whole town was ‘nough. With no one to take care of the house, things got rough to say the least.

Icarus: I see.

Umber: [ chuckles ] How’s it coming along?

Icarus: Bad, honestly. The cleanup took a few days. 

Umber: I wonder how many trash bags it took.

Icarus: Plenty. Cleared out the store down the street.

Umber: I bet Bill loved that.

Icarus: Definitely, the guy let me take home a soda. Sun’s hot here. No one tells you that.

Umber: Wait ‘til summer.

Icarus: Oh boy. Some of the pipes were damaged and on top of that we needed an electrician.

Umber: Was it expensive?

Icarus: Very. Most of the foundation is good but I replaced a few beams. That was difficult. 

Umber: Well next time you do that, let me know. I can help you out. We don’t want the house collapsing on ya.

Icarus: Wouldn’t that be something.

Umber: You’d be in some deep shit to say the least. 

Icarus: [ chuckles ] I guess so. Wanna see the house?

Umber: Lead the way.

[arcanarix]

Make That Double, Ch10 - Yan!SatoSugu X Fem!Reader [AO3]

❥ Word Count: ~7.8K

❥ Warnings: non-con, rimming (m. receiving btwn stsg), double piv penetration, lactation kink (w/ geto), mommy kink (w/ geto), fingering (f. receiving), cunnilingus, pussy slapping

❥ Summary: Double the trouble, or double the fun? Difficult to say when you're unfortunately roped into the affairs of two powerful shamans who can't leave each other alone, either.

Lately, activity has picked up quite a bit for Geto and his goons. He’s had to be absent for longer stretches of time, which gives you more time to plot. You do have the incantation and the instructions memorized by heart that Miguel has given you, and during times which he remains behind, he has coached you through a bit of the technique he’s embedded into your necklace, which is actually something called a cursed tool.

Much of this world is still unknown to you, even with the briefings Miguel has been kind enough to give you—hopefully without any of Geto’s curse spirits monitoring, but according to Miguel, most of the time they’ve had a green light on all of this.

“Initially, Geto instructed me to make it so that when you wear that necklace, it binds him to you,” he explains to you one day when Geto had been out of the city to take care of some urgent matters that you don’t care to know the details about. “It also grants you the ability to see curses, but I’d imagine he hasn’t released any around you since he hasn’t felt the need to…”

You interject, “No, actually. I… I tried to pull some things before and I saw some barely there blobs trying to prevent me from trying anything. So yeah, while my perception of curse spirits aren’t strong, I know that they’re around me all the time. Geto must keep some around to make sure I’m not up to anything that might hurt me. Before you ask, I don’t sense or feel any around me now but I figure you already picked up on that.”

Miguel doesn’t need you to elaborate, thankfully. He grunts in response, adjusting his scarf.

“Trust me, you’re not going to be stuck here for much longer. Not going to even lie to you, I’m pretty worried about Geto. Since the last family meeting, he’s been a bit…”

“A bit what?” you ask, furrowing your brows as you beckon him to specify.

“…out of character, I suppose. Have you noticed him moving differently at all?” Miguel crosses his arms over his broad chest and stares you down, waiting for a direct answer.

You think hard for a moment. Sure, he’s been a lot more hands off especially lately. He has lasted way longer than he had before. He keeps his promise of Satoru not touching you, and instead they remain focused on each other, and you’re allowed to mind your own business unless Geto requests for you to try something—gently, actually. Surprisingly gently. He doesn’t seem angry or disappointed when you refuse anything you’re not ready for, and he doesn’t even try to manipulate or charm you into it like he had in the beginning.

“…Actually yes, but I didn’t think too much of it. Just thought it was another way for him to try to get his way with me.”

Miguel draws out a sigh. “Well, there you go. Geto’s a principled guy. He doesn’t shift his gears at the drop of a hat, so either he’s thrown in the towel or something else is going on that even I can’t understand.”

What the literal fuck does that mean?

“That doesn’t…I’m sorry. I don’t think I get it. He’s still…you know. Himself.”

“You sure about that?” Miguel challenges, dark eyes boring into yours, almost like he’s piercing through your very soul. “Because had I not known any better, he gave himself up the minute he let you into his life. Of course I could be wrong.”

You chew on your lower lip, considering.

“What makes you so certain I shouldn’t take this, his motivations, at face value?”

“It’s like I told you, Miss …. He’s a principled guy. The minute he let you into his life is the minute he realized the inevitable.”

Oh whoop dee doo. More cryptic bullshit. Should you pry anymore?

“I see,” you reply, shifting in your spot. “Thank you, Miguel. For everything. I just hope that I can pull this off.”

“The chances of things working out for ya are slim, Miss …, but not zero.”

Geto seems a little distracted by something as he shuffles around the bedroom, preparing a change of clothes for the night. Perhaps it has something to do with what you overheard in a meeting you aren’t supposed to be around for and had it not been Miguel who caught you eavesdropping you likely would have been reprimanded or punished or something else right now.

But Geto doesn’t appear suspicious of you even now. You remain seated on the bed, completely bare. You feel comforted by the silk sheets against your skin as you clutch it tight toward your body. You slowly breathe out, trying to relax your nerves as much as you can around him.

You jump in your spot as he stands at the foot of the bed before kneeling to you. He’s disrobed, tied his long, luscious locks into that tight bun. He looks shockingly unthreatening, but you know better.

“I fear things may become a bit…messier in these next two or so years,” he sighs, and even you can see something must be weighing on his shoulders—what is his plan with the Night Parade? Does it matter? "I’m not sure how much longer there’s going to be.”

He joins you on the bed, and you shift in your spot, supporting your back against the headboard as you cast him a curious look. He leans into you, resting his head into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply, willing himself to relax. You grunt a bit from the added weight. He may appear skinny but he does maintain quite a bit of muscle and it’s evident in when he carries you.

“I need you,” Geto murmurs into your skin. His arms cage around the dip of your waist and you squeeze your eyes shut, biting back a sigh. God, you’re so fucking tired of this bullshit. No one’s meant to live like this, and he expects you to smile and fucking bear it.

You know, you’ve just gotten used to the idea that Geto isn’t initiating much intimacy anymore. All in an effort for you to warm up to the idea of a future with him and with the twins. But it’s not working for you, and he realizes that maybe his efforts are in vain and it all means he can still take advantage of you. While you have accumulated quite a number of small wins, you know they aren’t going to last forever. They’re fleeting, at best.

“What is it that you need, darling? Use your words.” Gods every time this feels so gross yet you don’t really have a say in that, don’t you? Even if Geto has given you a little more room for some illusion of agency you know not to let it get to your head. You snap off your bra and push out your breasts, presenting one of your stiff nipples to him.

“I need you,” he repeats, practically panting at the sight, running his tongue over his lips a few times.

Geto’s mouth hangs open a bit, his cheeks flushed, he’s been craving this for some time and you can tell. He’s kept his hands off for far longer than before, and maybe with the recent developments that you only inadvertently hear about (and by extension don’t confront Geto over because you learned your lesson the last time), you don’t protest and are a bit more receptive to what he wants. Relationships are give and take… even if he does basically all of the ‘taking’ in this particular brand of it.

His lips latch onto your bud, and you already feel the milk rushing out of your tit and spilling into his waiting tongue. He groans in delight as your sweet milk tickles his taste buds in the best way and one of his hands moves to fondle your unoccupied tit, his finger flicking the other bud to stiffness and pinching it playfully, making you inhale sharply. He laughs at your reaction; the dietary plan he’s put you on isn’t all that restrictive but he has mentioned the particular ingredients like fennel seeds, for instance, aids in producing more milk. The meds further stimulate the production and you’re more than certain some of the formula for all of this may have been imbued with that ‘cursed energy’ you hear and Gojo babble on to with each other on more than one occasion.

The glorbs every time he sucks up your milk like a suction are so audible and fucking disgusting each time. But he wants to be taken care of, that’s fine. You can do that. More like you have to do that. Your fingers scratch at his scalp, and he purrs, seeming to like that. He nips at your nipple in response and you whimper from the sharp contact. His tongue laves around the sensitive skin, and you moan low, not realizing how flushed and debauched you are yourself.

“Sugu…ru…” your voice is a bit strained but he hums in response, playfully flicking the tip of his tongue against the bud he just finished feeding off of before his mouth latched onto the other nipple. He takes both his hands and squeezes the large mounds of squishy flesh and you wriggle beneath the weight of his body. He growls like it’s a warning, sucking harder on your nipple like he needs it to survive and it might not be too far off the mark considering the recent developments. You feel something wet pooling in your groin and you know the sheets must be lightly damp by now and you aren’t ashamed of it anymore, more like on the path to true acceptance. Because it’s not going to be much longer. You’re so certain of it; soon you’re going to be free of this humiliation, and Geto can die alone and pathetic like he’s been destined to.

Your fingers dig tightly into the sheets when Geto sucks a bit harder, his wet muscle flicking off the droplets of milk that have gone astray. His lips trail between your plump mounds, feathery light but worshipping every bit of skin they touch. He stops, nips at your soft skin before lapping his tongue against the sore spot, leaving a few more marks behind. He trails down your stomach, peppering soft kisses there.

“Mamma,” his voice rumbles like a lion’s roar. “You’re so perfect for me.”

“I’m happy I make you happy, darling,” you manage to say, clamping your hand over your mouth to conceal an embarrassed shriek when you feel his tongue twist between your folds. Your body shivers and you feel a little dazed. At this point Geto knows how to make you feel good, knows how to make this not all that awful and you hate that so much. You hate that someone you loathe with everything you have has this kind of power over you.

“You make me feel the most alive I’ve ever felt,” he mumbles as his tongue laves around your sensitive core, the tip flicking against your stiff clit. “I want you to marry me.”

You don’t want to. You don’t, yet you know that even if you do, you still have a shot at getting the fuck out of there. Should you just… give in for now? Let him have another win?

Is it going to make a difference in the end? Even you admit you have your doubts. When Miguel explains the technique he’s used on your insignia, he says that there is still a chance for it to fail. In fact that there’s a higher chance for it to fail than succeed which is why you need to use it wisely. Maybe on another occasion when Geto fucks off with Gojo for a while.

A chance for it to fail doesn’t mean your success rate is completely 0. Just remember that.

“But Suguru…” you start to protest, but he cuts you off by shushing you harshly.

“Marry me and make this blasted world worth living in again,” he interjects while sucking on your folds, and your legs tremble, instinctively tightening around his shoulders. His hands rest against your fleshy thighs, massaging you gently. The wet noises from your pussy seem to echo in the bedroom, and your cheeks dust pink from more embarrassment. Even if you don’t have any potential witnesses this is so humiliating.

“But… Suguru, I…m not… ready…” you babble, you try to play up your role, but a response is a harsh slap on your pussy, making you weep a little. “Please, I just…”

Geto hushes you while twirling his tongue around your stiff clit, before closing his lips around it and sucking hard. Your heart is pounding so hard you feel like it’s going to burst out of your chest. Your body is clammy and sweaty and more heat pools in your groin and stomach.

“You,” he grunts, dragging his tongue down your spongy skin. “Are the only reason for me to tolerate a life like this. So marry me, Mamma.”

No.

He spits onto your pussy and dips his tongue into your hole, his eyes rolling upward to enjoy your debauched state.

“It’s not a request,” he growls low between lapping his tongue up and down your pussy. You feel like you’re floating in air; you hate that he knows how to make your body feel all kinds of euphoria when in reality you feel anything but around him. Your breathing is already labored and ragged, and that self-assured smirk on his face makes your face go red from both fury and arousal.

“Suguru…!” you shout, tightening your legs around his neck.

You see stars behind your eyes when you come, the sensation practically dizzying and you’re glad you’re grounded by the bed. Geto reacts with a string of dark chuckles, so condescending, so maddening. Your eyes peer up to meet his, piercing, twinkling from triumph.

He grins down at you, his hands still ok the fleshy parts of your thighs as he presses affectionate kisses between them. Your brain might short circuit and definitely not for the reasons Geto hopes.

He drags you down until you’re at his level, his body tenting over yours like a shield from the world. Like he wants to protect you from the horrors of it, but doesn’t he understand that all the horrors you have faced at all are all because of him?

He hasn’t even broken a sweat himself, leaning in to press his forehead against yours, syncing his breathing with yours. You try to appreciate the stillness of the moment before he decides you don’t deserve any time to breathe, but he seems pushy about the marriage bit.

His hands on your thighs adjust them so they hook around his hips. You whimper. You know what comes next.

“Marry me,” he murmurs again as his lips ghost over yours. “Please.”

No.

“Okay,” you reply weakly, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips finally meet yours, ravishing them. You don’t really kiss back but your mind drifts off to when you desired being kissed passionately like this, with someone you genuinely love and who genuinely loves you. Maybe Geto believes he’s in love with you, but it can’t be true.

“I love you,” he drawls against your lips, pulling away for a moment to slip on a condom.

Maybe he believes that he loves you. It’s fine if he does but you know you never will. His lips find the crook of your neck as his cock breaches your hole, and your throat tightens as you fight back another whine.

“No,” he commands with a yell, nipping against yours jaw. “Let me hear you, Mamma.”

“Suguru…” you reply in a weaker tone, and he growls in disapproval, sharply bucking his hips. His whole body is coated in sweat and some of his hair clings to his forehead and around his cheeks. Even in this state, he looks something akin to a powerful deity.

“Suguru!” you cry, arching your back into the mattress.

“Better,” he purrs into your skin, before licking along your neck and throat. “I want to hear more of your lovely sounds. We must commemorate today. You’re mine for the rest of our lives.”

No. You aren’t. You never will be.

“Suguru, please, I—!” You’re cut off with a kiss; he refuses to hear another word out of you now (unless it’s a preferred response). His tongue twirls around yours as each languid, smooth roll of his hips slides his length just a bit deeper inside. You feel the tip of his cock brush against it and you whine into his lips, hands sliding down his sides which makes him the one shuddering all over now.

It’s over before you know it; your walls clenching around his length and he keeps pumping inside you without stopping for a breath. His lips remain locked on yours; your fingers sink into his muscled skin and you swear your body might give out but he refuses to let up the erratic pace.

He pulls away just slightly, purring into your mouth.

“You are perfect for me, Mamma.”

You wish you could agree. But you do admit, from your focal point, the way his hair falls over his face and perfectly frames his sharp features makes him look like something from the Heavens. The way his eyes soften looking down at you, and not even with a hint of condescension, it’s… different. Whatever must run through his mind, it can’t be good, and it can’t add up for you. If he’s convinced that he’s in love with you, then you can’t change that. But you can work with it.

He doesn’t pull out for a while, just taking the time to feel you around him. To feel himself inside you. He sighs in content, resting his head between your breasts drenched in his spit, your sweat, and splotched of milk that he gladly licks up without so much as a second thought before lifting himself back up to flash a little smirk at you.

But even his smirk seems off. It doesn’t carry the same energy of someone who knows they have taken you away from everything for their personal amusement.

And you find yourself wondering what Miguel might mean by Geto officially surrendering to his fate.

Your hand reaches up to cup his face, brushing some of his fringes behind his ear. He is a breathtaking man. A devil with the face of an angel—isn’t that why demons make themselves appear angelic? To lure victims into a sense of security?

He leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand. His forehead scrunches a bit as he relishes in how your walls still feel like they’re pulsating around his cock, a few aftershocks from your orgasm.

“I need more,” he says, peppering little kisses around your face down to your collarbone.

“Suguru,” you reply, your hand dragging down to the crook of his neck. “Let’s rest for a bit. You seem tired, darling. Something’s troubling you.”

“You don’t have to worry about it,” he replies between more heated kisses. “It’s politics. Between our worlds. It doesn’t concern you.”

“You keep saying things like that, darling, but don’t you just…”

“Just what?” he beckons.

“Don’t you need someone to actually…talk to?” You can’t believe what you’re doing here; didn’t you just say you learned your lesson the last time you tried to meddle into business that had nothing to do with you?

His eyebrows furrow at that. Obviously you’re in no position to ask such things of him. But it’s more of a push in the right direction, a suggestion. Nothing more. He doesn’t have to agree with you.

“Won’t change anything,” he says after a period of reflection. “I appreciate that you’re trying, my love. But your role is with the twins and I, separate from all of that. You’re with your family here.”

You will NEVER be family.

Delightfully oblivious as ever to your own wars clashing in your mind, Geto kisses your lips again. Slow. Gentle. Passionate. Like he really believes he loves you.

The kiss grows more heated again, and sometime during he’s finally pulled out, he didn’t even come, his cock still painfully hard and standing erect wrapped in that condom. This is the first time he hasn’t chased after his own pleasure once he took care of you. This time he seems fully devoted to pleasing you, making you satisfied.

He bites, nibbles your lips and moans like an actor in a lewd video into your lips that have become cracked and red and swollen from his treatment.

“Suguru…?” you manage to utter between each kiss, each one more desperate than the last.

Geto moans your name, low and needy.

“I love you,” he confesses again, “I love you.”

You find yourself unable to say it back, but you don’t get a chance to say a word anyway; his lips meet yours again. You find yourself trying to return it, at least be a little responsive or reactive, try to keep him unsuspecting for a while longer. Even if you know he carries all of his monsters or apparitions with him whenever he’s gone for longer stretches of time, you can’t help but fear the slightest chance that he has someone—or something—keeping an eye on you even if Miguel or Suda insist that they would have known all along.

You can’t afford anymore fuck-ups. You can’t fuck up your chances again.

Finding time to spare for Satoru has become increasingly more difficult. With Yaga practically on Satoru’s ass 24/7, he can’t exactly make quick pit stops to the temple anymore. They have had to find compromise somewhere, so Geto has been back to visiting his penthouse.

Even if logically nothing can be done should Gojo not follow direct orders from the higher-ups, he still can’t afford more penalties, and Geto can’t afford to raise any more suspicion from the long stretches of time he’s been hiding away from his own duties. Just for a few moments with the love of his life.

“Are you sure about this?” Gojo asks, intertwining his fingers with Geto’s as they lounge in his king sized mattress. Sure, Geto may have excused these longer absences of his own as part of his duty but it’s in reality to stay a while longer with Gojo. Gojo’s the one feeling like a burden now, but Geto won’t have it much like Gojo won’t have it every time Geto talks down on himself and how much he means to Gojo. Can’t go around being a hypocrite, right? “It’s a big step, you know! I’ve always expected you’re going to marry someone as sexy and perfect as her. I mean, I was hoping it’d be me but I understand we can’t necessarily given the situation here.”

Geto rolls his eyes a little in jest at that last comment. Of course, in Geto’s world, they’re already married, practically inseparable, but Gojo has his world, and Geto has his. And they have to act as if they don’t interlock their bodies like rabid, mating animals between everything that’s going on.

“Yes,” Geto answers, kissing into his shoulder. Gojo sighs dreamily at the contact, snuggling closer to his lover. “I’m marrying her.”

“That’s great,” Gojo replies, but there’s an underlying hint of longing in his tone. “But how does she feel?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Geto quips as he trails more kisses along Gojo’s exposed, sweaty skin, humming at the salty tang hitting his tongue. “Isn’t this what you wanted for me, Gojo? Her being here gives me more of a reason to tolerate a life like this.”

Gojo can’t help but scoff at that sentiment, eyes flickering with something akin to envy.

“So what, I’m not enough?” he mutters like a stubborn child. Geto rolls his eyes again.

“Baby, look at me—“ Gojo does, “—Of course you are,” Geto counters, pecking his lips for good measure. “You know what I mean.”

“I know,” Gojo replies with a longing sigh. He accepts another kiss, unable to hide the smile playing on his lips in spite of how much he feels like he’s going to miss out. “I’m sorry.”

Geto hums in response before capturing his lips again in another fervent kiss, a hand snaking down his chest to draw lazy patterns across one of his pecs. Gojo sighs again in that dreamy way, completely putty in Geto’s hands and he’s unashamed of it whatsoever. Geto is the love of his life, his one and only, and Geto feels the same except now there’s someone else thrown in the mix that they can both have fun with too.

“You’re always my forever, Satoru,” Geto swears in a whisper, his tone tender—a side to him only Gojo gets to witness. “We just have other matters to sort through now.”

Geto playfully pinches one of Gojo’s nipples and that draws a gasp from his lips, and Geto laughs heartedly, dragging his tongue along the defined lines of his muscles. Gojo brushes his long, slender fingers through Geto’s endless locks of soft hair, and Geto purrs in approval.

“I do really miss Princess, you know…” Gojo points out with that grin widening and brightening his previously sullen and worn features.

“Then come by sometime before the ceremony,” Geto suggests, “We must commemorate the occasion, don’t you think?” Geto insists with a knowing expression as he rests his chin on Gojo’s strong chest.

“Of course,” Gojo answers, that grin still plastered on his face like it’s been sewn on there. A little glint in his azure eyes suggests something a bit… worse, like there’s something else he’s plotting.

While Geto’s still off visiting Satoru, you’re still left with little time to plot your escape plan when you have to attend to the twins the majority of his absence. Both Miguel and Suda have found ways to pull you aside to give you a pointer or two but they know they don’t want to make things more suspicious to the twins but they seem so lost in their own universes you doubt it’s going to be much of an issue.

But a part of you also knows not to underestimate anything. A part of you still tries to amplify your perception of curse spirits but you don’t detect any around you at this point in time. No matter what you’re doing, whether you’re accompanying the girls during their video game sessions or when they want to opt for something else. Or when they want to go out and about—not without one of Geto’s loyal goons keeping a close eye on you while you take the twins out of the temple. You do try to see if you can pick up any during any outings with them but you have failed each time. The most you can make out are outlines of spirits, but Nanako and Mimiko has exorcised them before you can react.

That’s where you learn a bit more about what they can do. Mimiko can manipulate with that doll she carries around with her everywhere. Meanwhile, you understand why Nanako is attached to a camera—she can manipulate curse spirits through photos. You don’t understand what any of this means, but it’s interesting to watch. Even if you don’t understand the full extent of what happens in front of you just yet.

Miguel has mentioned during one of his limited coaching sessions that the first step to being a sorcerer at all is being able to perceive curses. Yet you have failed spectacularly at that part. It’s true that kids and animals are the most sensitive to their presence, and you might have recalled sensing spirits like the Hat Man or the Smiling Man from popular lore.

“All curses are human-born,” he remember him explaining to you one day. “They develop through the negative emotions of humans. That’s why we often hear that most of our struggles are self-made. It’s true, isn’t it, given what we h ave to deal with, huh? Being a sorcerer is a thankless job and often seen as a bunch of hooey to those monkeys. Let’s just say it’s worse in the more rural areas, where people like me and the twins came from.”

“I can only imagine,” you find yourself mumbling in response. “This must take a lot of self-control to master.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” he concedes with a nod. “But manipulating and controlling your cursed energy—something everyone has, sorcerer or not—takes mostly a deeply innate ability. Some people are just gifted at that stuff. Like Geto or that Satoru Gojo punk. They’re the best a small world like ours has to offer.”

“So I’ve been told,” you mutter to yourself.

Miguel rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder, flashing you a smirk. “Listen, Miss …. Just remember you do have backup in case things go awry. I can’t guarantee we won’t get caught, but don’t worry about us when that happens. You need to get out of here. You don’t belong here.”

You can’t help smiling.

“I’m so glad you’re deciding to help me get the hell out of here,” you breathe, “I just can’t help but wonder why.”

Miguel gives you a non-committal hum.

“You just seem like someone worth sticking out for,” he replies, “But honestly, I don’t really have a good reason behind it. Seeing someone like you, someone who was probably minding your own damn business before all of this, going through what you are… just doesn’t sit right with me. I’m not claiming to be good, like I told you before.”

“Thank you,” you tell him again. He returns your smile.

“No need, Miss ….”

“Princess!” Gojo exclaims with glee riddled all over his expression as he climbs down the stairs to greet you. “Congratulations on your engagement. It was going to happen sooner or later.”

He strides up to you, cups your face and greets you with a long smack of his lips against yours before approaching Geto and doing the same. Geto secures a possessive hold around Gojo’s hips so he doesn’t pull entirely away from him and it doesn’t seem like Gojo’s protesting, anyway. When Geto twists his neck to face you, your face falls upon realization. You know that look.

That can’t be good news for you, but when do you ever have good options between them?

“My love, can you make this final exception for the sake of celebration? Satoru does want to wish us well, you know,” Geto scoots you closer into him, his lips against your ear. “After that, he doesn’t have to touch you again, but you can do whatever you like.”

“But Suguru,” you begin, before eyeballing Satoru who’s waiting beside you with eagerness evident in those sharp oceanic eyes, deeply unsettling the longer you stare at them. Something about Satoru aside from the obvious seems… off-putting. You can’t place what it is, but you know you have heard many of Geto’s goons refer to him as some kind of God in the world of jujutsu sorcery. But he’s far from a merciful God, or even a good one.

But you do remember what Miguel says about that—that they’re sorcerers, not saints. They don’t claim to be good or right in whatever they do, and this holds true for both Geto and Gojo.

Gojo bounces his leg out of impatience, meeting your gaze full of hope and passion. He has missed having the agency to touch you, to do as he pleases…

“Please, my love,” Suguru pleads with a little growl, his hand reaching out to you and brushing his finger along the chain around your neck, jingling a bit as it moves. “Just this once. I won’t request this again another time.”

You don’t believe that in the slightest, yet you know you might not be here for much longer than you have to be. You cling onto that hope that whatever you plot with Miguel and Suda that it will work even if those chances are slim.

He promised it’s not zero, you remind yourself, that’s enough for me.

“Okay,” you concede with a weak tone, unable to wholly say no this time. If Geto swears this will be the only time before the marriage ceremony.

Tweedledum’s eyes twinkle from sheer happiness, and Geto loosens his grip on him so he has full autonomy to pounce on you and pin you to the large couch like an untamed animal. Geto laughs in dark amusement as Gojo smothers your face and neck in slobbery, sloppy kisses before he locks his body around yours; your chests pressing so tightly together you fear you might suffocate from the proximity.

“Fuck, gorgeous, I missed you, missed you so much,” Gojo babbles between playful and messy little swirls of his tongue against your jaw. You can’t even struggle or squirm; the added weight too much, keeping you secured in place and a gasp leaves your lips as he digs one of his knees into your crotch, forcing your legs apart. He digs into your crotch and grinds against your sensitive core, which you already feel some slick building and dampening your panties and his pants.

“Looks like she missed you, Satoru,” you hear Geto purr from somewhere above you but you can’t even adjust in your place. You hear Gojo groan as Geto yanks his pants and boxers down, leaning into to smack his lips against his ass and perineum.

Gojo lets out a shuddering gasp, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he whimpers and wriggles closer to the sensation.

“God you’re so fucking mean,” Gojo bites out, pathetically nibbling at your ear to try to ground himself and you hate that you’re immobile practically.

“Please… can’t breathe,” you gasp out and Gojo’s lips quirk upward as he adjusts himself ever so slightly, but still rubbing his knee into your damp crotch.

“Sorry about that, Princess. Better?” he purrs into your ear before nibbling on the lobe. You whimper in response. A slight improvement sure but you’re still immobile, just how they like it.

Gojo’s eyes dilate as Geto slathers his tongue around the rim of his tight hole, and he moans low into your skin.

“Fuck, fuck, baby, stop…” he begs through a lewd moan. “Being so fucking mean…”

Geto’s hand comes down hard on his ass.

“Do you mean that, Satoru?” he teases, the tip of his tongue catching into his hole and making Gojo squirm under the slightest touch or sensation

“N-no,” he groans, inching his ass closer and sticking it more upward like the obedient dog Geto’s trained him to be. You keep your eyes shut, unable to witness this like you have countless times before. Gojo seeks reprieve from the torment by tormenting you; his knee still grinding into your crotch and making you whimper and whine and weep. His lips leaving behind little marks that tingle in their wake.

“Sssatoru…” you slur, your eyes rolling back into your skull as your orgasm sends shockwaves through your body. He grunts in approval, plunging his slobbery lips onto yours and rolling his tongue against your shier one. He grabs one of your hands and guides it to his cock, veiny and swollen and leaking. You wrap your hand around his size and brush your thumb against his slit and he sucks in a shaky breath, approving and needy. He’s getting worked on both ends and he adjusts his position for you to have some wiggle room and you can focus on getting him off while Geto is still busy eating him out. His expert tongue laves between his perineum and his asshole and somehow Gojo can still maintain some semblance of composure.

“Don’t worry, Princess,” he strains his voice through the soft moans as he fucks his cock into your soft palm. “I got you. You have nothing to worry—fuck—about.”

He peels your panties aside and dips his finger between your damp, slick folds and you utter a little whimper.

“Please, I can’t,” you plea, but Gojo only tuts at you as he draws lazy circles around your stiff little bundle of nerves.

“Yes you can,” he snarls, grunting as his own orgasm rushes through his body but somehow he can remain composed while he’s tending to you. Geto shuffles around in the back, before repositioning Gojo and you by extension. Gojo sits up and rests you on one of his legs as he continues to play with your soaked pussy.

Your hand doesn’t dare to leave his cock, knowing you could be punished if you did, even if Geto swears not to bring harm to you, it doesn’t mean he can’t find other ways to get his point across. Geto watches from beside the two of you as you fondle each other. Your body is coiling from the intense heat, and you find yourself bucking into Gojo’s skillful, eager fingers.

“That’s it,” Gojo praises, kissing your cheek. “I’m not so bad, right Princess?”

When you don’t answer, you hear Geto click his tongue in disapproval. Dread fills your chest at that.

“He asked you a question, love.”

“You m-make me f-feel good, Satoru,” you stammer and Gojo coos at you as he slips another finger inside you.

“Goooood. That’s all I want, Princess. I just want to make you feel good, be a part of your life. S’not fair that I don’t get my share these days but bearing the responsibility of being the strongest means I can’t be here as much as I’d like to be. Can you forgive me for that, Princess?”

He twists his fingers inside you and brushes against your spot, making you thrash in his hold. Your grasp on his shaft tightens and he sighs in delight.

“I f-forgive you b-but w-we miss you. S-satoru…!” Your free hand clutches at his wrist as you feel another wave of an orgasm coming on and you can’t take it; you splatter all over his hand and some of your arousal splashes onto the ground.

“Gorgeous,” Gojo murmurs, his tone reverent, “So fucking gorgeous on my fingers. Now you can take my cock. It’s missed your perfect little pussy.”

Geto chuckles as he tears open the condom and helps Gojo slip it onto his strained, throbbing cock. He presses a soft kiss to the tip before Gojo hoists you up like you weigh a bucket of feathers and sinks you onto his cock until just the head enters your tight, soppy heat. Your juices make it easy to slide you all the way down to the base of his cock, and Geto growls as he watches the scene unfold intently; his hand resting on his lap as his own cock strains against his slacks.

“Fuck, so fucking tight. Guess even Gsto’s cock doesn’t stretch you out for long, huh? Fucking perfect for me,” Gojo babbles as he bounces you on his cock like you’re his cheap whore and it feels so fucking humiliating yet you’re moaning because you can’t deny how good it feels. Gojo’s size doesn’t make you as uncomfortable as Geto’s does; he’s much easier to take.

“Hear that, Suguru? Man, she fucking loves me!” Gojo cackles as he bucks his hips in time with moving you up and down.

“Of course she does,” Geto replies as he pets Gojo’s hair, kissing his temple. Geto rests his free hand on your clit and rubs hard on it, making you shriek from the overstimulation. The sounds of Gojo’s cock slapping against you and the lewd squelching from your juices reverberates through your ears like a loud bass and fuck you hate it so much. You hate that it’s beginning to feel kind of good.

“You should see how fucking good you look right now,” Gojo rambles on again as he whips out his smart phone, switching on the selfie camera and recording you and him.

You hate seeing yourself. You hate what you see right in front of you—Gojo’s wide, manic grin as he oogles his long, veiny cock disappearing into your dripping cunt and your face. Your fucking face is what’s humiliating. Your complexion is reddened; your face and neck is coated in sweat. You appear limp and completely out of it—like you’ve given up though that can’t be further from the truth. You have to sell the naive damsel role because that’s what they both like, making them think they have full power over you but someday soon you’re going to stick both your fucking middle fingers at them when you’re riding off into sunset toward sweet freedom.

He stops the short recording and sets his phone aside; his tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth as he fucks deeper inside of you, groaning as your walls clench and flutter around his length.

“You’re killing me, Satoru,” Geto laments, frowning as he palms himself through his slacks before finally pulling himself out. “Hurry before I stick my cock inside with yours.”

Your eyes widen at that in sheer horror as your head turns to Geto’s direction. His expression makes your heart sink; he’s not interested in sparing you a little dignity and really plans on bullying his cock alongside Gojo’s because he’s growing impatient.

“No no no, please, Sugu… I can’t!” you shout, shaking your head frantically as tears well in the corners of your eyes.

Geto’s frown deepens, his forehead wrinkling as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles.

“You can take it, my love,” he coos as he fists his cock into full hardness. You bite back a choked sob.

“No, no, Suguru…please it’ll be too much..!”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you protest but Geto disregards everything you say as he wraps his cock.

“Damn, Suguru,” Gojo cackles, “Can’t let it wait, huh?”

“Shut up,” he hisses as he pushes the tip of his cock into your pussy, and Gojo moans feeling Geto’s dick rub against his. The stretch absolutely fucking hurts and you weep, babbling endlessly and begging him not to go further but he doesn’t listen to you this time. Maybe he’s getting tired of being kind to you.

He manages to fit a good portion of his size inside and you’re sobbing so hard, your body is on fire and not in a pleasant way. They fill you up and stretch you out and they’re cackling together like the psychopaths they are.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Gojo growls, kissing the top of your head as he spears his cock into you with deadly precision. “Fuck fuck fuck you’re so much tighter. ‘M gonna come.”

And he follows through on his word, fucking into you with one last hard thrust before he gives you a little mercy and slides his cock out so Geto can have his way with you.

Gojo trails kisses all over your tear-strained face and ignores your continued weeping and begging to stop.

“Shhhh, we’re just getting started, Princess. We have so much making up to do before you and Suguru tie the knot, yeah? Just relax and let us take care of you. That’s all we want.”

Such fucking lies.

Geto growls as now he’s the sole cock drilling into you, and you’re stretched nice around his size. Your walls are still fluttering and squeezing around him and trying to suck him inside deeper and Geto looks down at you with a feral gaze, something you haven’t seen since the day he took you.

“Too bad I don’t have the intention of fucking a few babies into you,” he chuckles, reaching out to trace the gold chain jingling around your neck with each jerk of his hips. He tugs a bit on the chain and you avert your gaze. He frowns at that, tugging again and making you look at him. “You know I can’t afford to bring more monkeys into this world, but the idea of coming inside you is… enthralling. Perhaps we can save that for when I fuck your perfect ass.”

“Damn,” Gojo whistles, his arms circling your waist. “That’s going to be so hot. Fuck her full of cum and then have her walk around like that all day. Perfect way to ensure she belongs to you, yeah Suguru?”

“Exactly,” he laughs in response, a wicked smirk on his face. His hand comes down to smack your pussy and you scream, but Gojo secures his hold on you.

“Shhhh, Princess. Don’t squirm too much or he could hurt you. He doesn’t want to, you know?” he whispers in a mock soothing tone.

“Please, Sugu…. It already hurts,” you cry, sniffling, your eyes bloodshot and puffy from all of the tears you’ve shed.

“You can take it,” he grunts with another sharp slap on your quivering cunt. “You can do it, my love. Come for me.”

In spite of everything the world spins as you come down hard on his cock, arousal gushing out and it’s not the prettiest sight to you but it must make Geto and Gojo as gleeful as children on a Christmas morning.

“Sugu…” you murmur, body going a bit limp but you remember Gojo saying they barely begun. This is so tiring. But Geto pulls out with a soft moan, but his cock is still hard. Needing.

“What is it, my love?” he asks in that affectionate tome he’s been using so much more lately. Without the underlying condensation, just pure love, like he really believes he does love you.

As if someone who loves you would do things like this without so much as a shred of remorse. Gojo is silent behind you, sitting back and enjoying the scene unfold.

“I-I can’t,” you stammer, “Please, I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” he urges a bit more gently. “This is a celebration, my dear. Lean into it.”

He kneels on one knee until his mouth is level with your cunt, his eyes sparkling with need and lust.

“We just want to take care of you,” he goes on, pressing a kiss to your spent cunt. “That’s all we want.”

You shake your head again.

“Can’t,” you keep pleading, “I can’t, I can’t…”

“Sure you can, Princess,” Gojo murmurs, “You have to. It’s the least you can do. After all, Suguru’s risking a lot just to be with you.”

Huh?

“I’m risking everything just to be here too,” Gojo continues while Geto pushes his tongue into your cunt. “So do this for us, baby. Because once Suguru married you, it’ll make things easier for us to be together. You’ll understand soon, I promise.”

“B-but…”

Gojo shushes you again before silencing you completely with a heated kiss. You can’t put up much of a fight anymore, in that moment.

This will be the only time you surrender to this battle, but not the fucking war.

[theflagscene]

Let’s talk Jack and Joke’s perceived parental roles -

It’s laid out in plain words in episode ten so that there is absolutely no doubt whatsoever, Jack and Joke have taken Toi Ting in and have no plans on returning her to her deadbeat abusive bio-dad. I believe that it going to stay that way, so we’re going to keep to that assumption of her being adopted or fostered by them legally once everything is sorted.

Note: not looking for arguments about the legitimacy of blood relations verses found/chosen family. An adopted child is that person’s child, you do not need to have carried them in your body for them to be yours.

I adore that YinWar have been pushing back against the stereotypes around gay men and queer media in general about what roles a person takes in the relationship, they’ve mostly been focusing on the sexual aspect because that is the part that people tend to get the most hung up on.

Yet I find it wildly interesting how easily Jack and Joke fall into what would be considered the ‘heteronormative parental roles’ when it comes to Toi Ting. It’s not a bad thing! No, it’s actually quite nice to see. They’re not forcing any ‘husband/wife’ ideals into their relationship, they just naturally fall into the roles that are appropriate for them as a couple and a family unit.

Jack is very much in the ‘father’ role, remember, father does not instantly mean masculine or emotionally stunted. He is the protector, he is a trained martial artist and debt collector, he is physically intimidating. He is firm and chastising but also patient and forgiving, he is the one Toi Ting feels physically safe with the most, she runs to him for help, she learns her bravery and defiance from him. He absolutely will pat her back, smooth down her hair and allow himself be to dragged away by the hand to get ice cream. He is playing the role of not just a father figure, but a daddy. (stop giggling at that word, the internet has ruined us all 😝)

Meanwhile, Joke has one hundred percent filled the ‘mother’ role for Toi Ting. Again, not because he’s femme or whatever - side note, there’s nothing wrong with being femme! Joke is a natural carer, he wears his emotions on his sleeve because he never had anyone care about him before. He is gentle and a listener, both things that serve him well as a thief. When Toi Ting comes running to Jack for physical protection, it is Joke that offers emotional protection. He is the one that takes her into his arms and calms her down, he hugs her, reassures her and speaks with clam and loving words to bring her big scary emotions back down to a more manageable level. Joke can redirect her attention and is the one that sits and paints with her, Jack just ‘supervises’, aka is a big dope that’ll ruin the painting lol. But together Jack and Joke are able to offer Toi Ting what she needs, both a mother figure and a father figure, regardless of their genders.

Which leads me into the absolute heartbreak of a scene at the end of episode ten, where Jack and Joke find themselves in the one place no parent ever wants to find themselves. Stuck on the other side of those damnable white doors, unable to get to your child.

Joke has an emotional response, very much a mother’s response. Again, mothers tend to be the ‘emotional nurturers’ so them being more giving with their emotions is to be expected. And I would just like to point out how exceptional War plays that role, he is a mother waiting in terror to find out if his baby is dying or dead.

The blank horrified stare, the shaking hands and quivering movements, the fact that his legs fail him and he ends up curled up on the floor. Covering his mouth to keep the sobs in, yet unable to stop the silent flow of tears, barely even noticing when Hoy tries to comfort him. Joke doesn’t snap out of his shock until Jack shows up.

Jack on the other hand has a very ‘fatherly’ response, the pacing, the pinched expression, the heavy breathing and muttering before just exploding with anger, swearing loudly and looking for someone to blame. He can’t break down just yet, he’s too angry, too scared, he’s not the emotional support. He’s the protector, the provider and he hates himself for failing. Yin played that so well, how he kept moving to touch his head, putting his hands on his hips, fidgeting as he paced, forcing the camera to keep up with his near frantic movements.

Where Joke froze, Jack found movement.

Where Joke was quiet, Jack exclaimed loudly.

Where Joke allowed tears to flow, Jack held his pain tightly in.

Joke and Jack are Toi Ting’s mother and father, and that final hospital scene just proved it.

[darklydreamingdaddydom]

He could tell his girlfriend was getting quite stressed from work and school…  She never seemed to get a break.  So he waited until she had a solid 5 days of nothing..  With no one or thing to worry about.

    A lot of planning was involved, he cleaned out an old storage room and put in a crib with plastic sheets and cuffs on each corner of the bed (good for changing naughty rebellious little girls who wet and mess themselves.)  

    There was a cabinet, filled with diapers, powder, wipes, and cute little outfits that made her look like a 3 year old..  There were also paddles, vibrators, rope, cuffs, and crops etc. depending on how bad his little girl decided to be.

    Finally it was time..  She came home from work with a sigh of relief..  He handed her cranberry juice with laxatives and diuretics.  Soon enough she would realize that she needs diapers, and Daddy’s guidance.

    “Sweetie, I want to talk to you about something..  I know things have been so stressful for you, and I want to help.  Let me take care of you this weekend, so you can just relax.”  She loved the idea of that, it sounded perfect to her…  Little did she know what was actually in store for her.

    Some time had gone by, and she was beginning to get a bit suspicious…  Why did he keep feeding her snacks and drinks?  She had all ready had so much, but she didn’t want to disappoint him..  Suddenly a need to pee washed over her and she doubled over trying to hold it.  

    “What’s wrong baby?”  I asked, as I pulled her onto my lap.  “I’m not a baby,” she responded rather indignantly.  “Now let me up, I need to use the bathroom.”  She squirmed in my lap as I held her in my arms, she gave me a strange look as she struggled.  “Listen baby girl, I’m going to take care of you this weekend, but you’re going to have to follow some rules…  Rule number 1, bathroom off limits.”

    “You’ve gone crazy, haven’t you?”  She asks in disbelief, the pressure growing in her bladder.  “Crazy for you little girl,” I teased as I began to tickle her.  Now she really began to squirm and writhe about, but suddenly froze as I felt my own crotch begin to get soaked, with a steady *drip drip* on the floor.  

    “Oh my God, Sarah, didn’t you just say that you weren’t a baby?”  She was didn’t know how to process what happened, red in the face and utterly humiliated..  She just wanted to hide, she couldn’t believe that she just wet herself, now she was soaked.

    “C’mon sweetie, lets get you cleaned up.”  Before she knew it she was being carried in his arms..  She really did feel like a baby in that moment, and it was kind of nice knowing that he was there to take care of her..  But then she saw it.  He opened a door to what looked like an adult nursery.  

    Before she could say anything he had laid her down and began locking her ankles and wrists into the cuffs attached to the four corners of her crib.  That’s right, her crib, because she was the only one in sight who wet themselves like a toddler.

    “What are you doing?!”  She yelled and she flailed about against her cuffs.  Relax sweetie, this is for your own good..  You need to give this a chance, the cuffs are just in the beginning to help you settle in..  They may be used as punishment in the future if you’re going to be a naughty little brat.  “Are you fucking crazy?!”  She yelled.  He gave her a hard swat on her butt, and that was enough for her to go quiet, with just a small whimper, as she looked up with pleading eyes.

    He began to cut her clothes off of her, until she was completely naked.  The look in her eyes betrayed her, was she secretly enjoying this all ready?  Could she finally give up control to someone else?  He did make her feel safe, even though she was completely helpless now.  But then she saw it, he pulled out a thick diaper from the cabinet, and her face grew more red then he had ever seen.

    “What are you doing with that?..  Please no..”  She begged, and she lifted her cute little ass for him without even thinking.  Before she knew it he had expertly taped the thick diaper in place between her legs.  She couldn’t help but press her diapered butt against the changing pad bringing it back and forth as the diaper rubbed against her princess parts, making her moan.  She felt so humiliated and helpless, why was it turning her on so much?

    He slapped her diapered but again, and told her no cumming without permission was rule number 2.  She pouted and looked up at him, about to plead for a second time before she caught herself..  She didn’t want to be in diapers!  This was ridiculous!

    “You’re going to behave, right baby?”  He let her out of her restraints, and lifted her onto his hip, carrying her back over to the couch.  He pulled a sheet off the couch, which turned out to be waterproof.  Important when you have a leaky baby to take care of.  Into the wash it went, to be ready again in a few hours when her diaper is at its leaking point.  

    He held her in his lap again, giving her soft kisses and rocking her..  She was still trying to get over the fact that her Daddy was holding her in nothing but a diaper, when she felt a sudden intense pressure in her bowels.  She blushed at the thought of calling him Daddy, and began to squirm.  “Please let me up, I really need to go.”

    “That’s what your diapers are for sweetie, just relax and let go”  She wasn’t having it though.  She kept trying to fight and even buck against him as he held her down in his lap.  It was to no avail, she couldn’t struggle and hold it..  She felt herself losing control, blushing as she let farted and her belly growled and grumbled.  She stopped struggling and focused all of her might on holding it in.

    She began to cry as the mess forced its way out of her and filled the back of her diaper.  It just kept coming as she grunted and struggled to push it into her tight diaper.  She was utterly exhausted and spent by the end, and a complete mess.  Makeup down her face from crying, and the fullest diaper she could imagine.  She began wetting herself, but didn’t even care at this point.  She just tried to hide in his arms, really feeling like a baby for the first time.

    He patted her mushy diaper, pressing it into her..  She didn’t even try to stop him any more.  “You’re such a good girl, you’ve gone through a lot baby..  Lets get you cleaned up with a bath and then get you in a fresh diaper.  Then we can curl up and watch a movie.

    She sighed as he was carrying her again.  She was humiliated, but she knew she was in good hands..  She would never admit it, but she might be enjoying this after all.